The Good Old Times.

Waipawa Mail, Volume XIII, Issue 2502, 6 September 1890, Page 3

The Good Old Times.

The Tudors were particularly fond of savage punishments ; most readers will remember how, in the reign of Elizabeth, a man named Stubbs lost his hand for writing a pamphlet of Radical tendencies. And in the reign of Elizabeth’s little brother there was an Act passed to the effect that anyone striking with a weapon in a churchyard should lose an ear. Now, readers of Mark Twain will remember a certain dog named Andrew Jackson who enacted that any dog fighting with him should lose a hind leg. But Andrew had not foreseen the . sa of a dog who should have no hind leg to loose. Consequently, when the case arose that legislator was taken aback, and the result was serious. But if that dog had read the Statutes at Large, he would have been put on his guard by an analogous case duly provided for in the statute now under consideration. The makers of that Act, wiser than Andrew Jackson, foresaw the case of an offender who should have no ears to lose. So they enacted, “ and if the persons so offending have none ears whereby they should receive such punishment, that then they may be burned in the cheek with a hot iron having the letter F therein whereby they may be known for fraymakers and fighters.” But this Act was mild and gentle compared with one passed in the reign of Edward’s father, whereby the crime of poisoning was punishable by boiling alive. Mr Froude apologises for this Act! But even Mr Froude does not venture to apologise for the Act passed in the thirty-third year of his of his hero, whereby the punish ment for striking in the king’s palace a blow whereby blood shed was that “ the right hand be stricken off before the Lord Great Master, or, in his absence, before the treasurer of the Mirshalsea.” Then, with the most cold-blooded ferocity, the statute goes on to prescribe all the details of the savage Act. There is to be present, we are told, “ tbe king's chief surgeon to sear the stump when the hand is stricken off.” Tbe sergeant of the pantry is to be present “ to give bread to the party that shall have his hand so stricken off.” And the sergeant of the cellar is to attend ‘‘then and there ready with a pot of red wine to give the same party to drink after his hand is so stricken off and the stump seared.” Mark the nice attention to detail so characteristic of great minds —the wine is to bo red wine, and it is not to be given immediately after the cutting—the bread would do then ; the wine was to be kept to revive the victim after the more trying operation of searing. How Sir Mungo Malagrowther, in the “ Fortunes of Nigel,” gloats over the prospective sufferings of the hero under the searing process 1 The sergeant of the ewry had to come “ with clothes sufficient for the surgeon to occupy about the same execution.” The “ ewry ” was probably the lavatory, from the ewers kept there, and the “ clothes ” would be the towels. The master cook also “ shall be then and there ready and bring with him a dressing knife, and shall deliver the same knife to the sergeant of the larder, who shall also be then and there ready and hold upright the dressing-knife till execution be done.” It is clear that the surgeon was in attendance, only to attend to the victim after 4he cutting, and not to do it himself, for it seems that the amputation was done by the roagh-and-ready method of laying the kuife on the wrist and staking it with a beetle brought to the spot by the sergeant of the woodyard together with “ a cord and staple to bind the said hapd.” The 'most curious detail iu the business is the attendance of

the “ sergeant of the poultry .... with a cock in his hand ready for the surgeon to wrap about the said stumf when the hand shall be so stricken off.” And the most gruesome detail is the presence of the “ chief ferror ” or blacksmith “ to bring with him searing-irons to deliver to the surgeon w7±en they he Tiot.” Lastly, the groom of the falconry is to be “ then and there ready with vinegar and cold water and give attendance upon tbe surgeon.” Truly the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel. —Comhill Magazine.