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Toffs
v. hoi polloi in an Edwardian court room by Brian Slyfield
Rigg, Innes, Lucas, Padwick, Scrase-Dickins, Burrell,
Eversfield, Harben, Hornung and Clifton-Brown – a
roll-call of some of the richest landowners, from the
largest houses, around Horsham towards the end of the
reign of Edward VII. Some with old money, some with
new, but magistrates to a man. To sit on the Bench in
those days you had to have a dominant position in the
community, and be a pillar of the Establishment. What
is more, class barriers were made of concrete in those
days, and there was no crossing the divide. Justice
was dispensed by the upper classes, and to the old
standards, and it was this privileged toffs' club (men
only, of course) that dished out fines, hard labour
and spells in prison to the lower orders, for what now
might seem to be the most trivial of offences. It was
still pretty feudal back in the 1900s.
So if some foolish soul was caught poaching a few
rabbits from Sir Merrick Burrell's land around Knepp
Castle, and he was up before John Peter Hornung of
Compton's Lea and later West Grinstead Park
(previously a Burrell property), he would be most
unlikely to get a sympathetic hearing. Likewise any
member of the hoi polloi up to no good in the Lucas
deer park out at Warnham would have got short shrift
from the likes of Herbert Addington Rigg, who lived in
some splendour at Wallhurst Manor, near Cowfold. There
were mutual interests at stake.
Let us take a closer look at a few of these justices
of the peace, some of whom - to be fair - had a
considerable body of achievement behind them, while
others, with a rich daddy, were just born lucky. And
let us also trawl though some of the cases they dealt
with in the magistrates' court in the old Town Hall in
Market Square, for it is only by looking at specific
examples that one can get a real flavour of the
climate of the time.
 Rigg
was a man of considerable attainment, and if anyone
was suited to preside over Horsham's justice it was
him. The son of Jonathan Rigg of Wrotham Hill Park,
Kent, he went firstly to Tonbridge and then Trinity
College, Cambridge. He was called to the Bar in 1871,
and practiced firstly on the Northern Circuit and then
at the Parliamentary Bar. He bought Wallhurst in 1887
and spent time and money restoring and developing the
property. Apart from his Bench responsibilities he was
a member of both Horsham Rural District Council, the
local Board of Guardians and West Sussex County
Council. He hunted with the Crawley and Horsham, and
was a leading light in the Sussex Archaeological
Society and a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries. He
married into the Chappell family, 'well known in the
musical and literary world', as he put it in a potted
biography. All in all a significant figure, one who
had strong opinions (and who apparently expressed his
feelings 'very plainly and unmistakably'), and who had
made his way in many fields. This formidable man died
in 1924, and by an odd coincidence a relative of his,
three generations down the line, happens to be an old
publishing colleague of mine.
His fellow JPs must have been stretched to keep up
with him. Sir Merrick Raymond Burrell may not have had
his mental firepower, but he more than made up for it
as the possessor of one of Sussex's more illustrious
pedigrees. His family's baronetcy was created in 1774,
and he was the 7th holder of the title. While his
principal seat was at Knepp Castle, the family could
also lay claim to West Grinstead Park (before it
passed into Hornung's hands) and Ockenden House,
Cuckfield (now a hotel). He was born in 1877, educated
at Eton (where else?), and avoiding further studies at
either of the two Universities, served as a Lieutenant
with the 1st Royal Dragoons in South Africa. He was a
member of the Cavalry Club, and in two marriages (the
second to Coralie, the daughter of the
splendidly-named J Porter Porter of County Fermanagh –
Porter's daughter) fathered two sons and two
daughters.
Then there was Charles Robert Scrase-Dickins of
Coolhurst – the grand gates to the house are on the
left as you leave Horsham on the Cowfold road, just
past the Doomsday Green cross-roads – who also had
property in County Mayo. Another old Etonian, he
gained an MA from Christ Church, Oxford and in later
life, apart from serving as a Deputy Lieutenant for
Sussex, was Lord of the Manor of Brighton and much
involved in the well-being of its hospital. His mother
was the daughter of Robert Aldridge of St Leonards
(now apartments). and the Aldridges could once lay
claim to most of the Forest – so these two families
held much influence over land to the south and east of
Horsham.
And what about Charles Eversfield, who lived in
perhaps the most splendid of all the local mansions.
Denne Park sits proudly on the top of Denne Hill,
approached by a fine tree-lined avenue. Eversfield was
born there in 1871, and in due course inherited the
house from his father. Just for a change he went to
Wellington, and after Jesus College, Cambridge devoted
much of his time to the breeding of English Springer
Spaniels, which he trained for field trials, and he
claimed to have been 'a most successful competitor in
England for several years'. Eversfield sounds quite
fun, and he was a man who also enjoyed cricket, golf
(he represented his University) and shooting. He was a
clubbable fellow, and was a member of the New Oxford
and Cambridge, the Automobile and Pratt's.
When some hapless local stood before the Bench,
perhaps accused of drinking more than was good for
him, and disturbing the peace and tranquillity of
Horsham's streets on a Saturday night, a selection of
these formidable chaps would have fixed him with a
beady eye, administered a short, sharp lecture and
slapped a fine on the poor man or sent him off for a
few days' hard labour (all the while, no doubt, making
a mental note not to employ him in any capacity on
their own extensive estates).
We have given the toffs some space, so now let's take
a look at some of the hoi polloi who appeared in the
court room - those on the sticky end of the wicket, as
it were.
Frederick Jenner was in a spot of bother in January
1908 - but it was a routine matter. His cart was
without a light in New Street at 5.30pm, so he was
quickly dispatched by Messrs Rigg, Hornung and Harvey
with a 5s fine. At that same hearing Albert Jupp,
Ernest Burstow and Herbert Potter, together with five
other 'lads', were found guilty of playing hockey on a
Sunday – near Denne Road bridge – and they were each
fined 1s for their pains.
A sadder case the following month was that of George
Marshall, who was found begging at West Grinstead. He
had previous form, and as a result was sentenced to
seven days' hard labour, which probably meant breaking
stones for road repairs - the usual punishment for
this type of crime. Later in February William Hutt, a
bricklayer's labourer, was in court for being drunk
and begging from a woman at 9 Clarence Road ('to help
him on his way'). The magistrates commented, sternly,
that 'it was very silly of people who help to make
beggars. However we cannot deal with them. You will
have a week's imprisonment'.
People who started chimney fires were fined (Fred
Butler from Hurst Road got a 2/6d penalty, with no
previous convictions – 'much laughter in court'), and
lack of motor lights was also taken seriously. The
driver of a traction engine at Southwater was fined
10s for such an offence, and a motorist without an
offside light was fined 5s, despite his implausible
defence that his light was 'very warm, and the gale
must have put it out'.
An interesting case came up in April 1908. Jaakeff
Prelooker from Ifield, the editor of the
'Anglo-Russian', refused to pay his rates. He was
classified as an alien, with no right to vote, and at
the time of course his wife – an Englishwoman – did
not have the vote either. His stance was taken as a
political one, to draw attention to the women's
suffrage movement, and indeed there was a protest
meeting in the Carfax the very same day as the court
hearing. In his case a distress warrant was issued.
Poaching prosecutions were never far from the courts,
and again in April William Booker and Cecil Sendall
were charged with game trespass. They had been caught
red-handed on John Peter Hornung's property at
Compton's Lea 'in search of conies'. The landowner,
quite rightly of course, was not sitting on the Bench
at the time, but they were still fined 10s each. A few
months later Jessie Streeter got away with a lighter
5s fine for chasing after the Hornung conies. That
plot of land, near today's Harwood Road and now built
on, must really have been a happy hunting ground for
rabbit poachers.
But Arthur Richardson was particularly foolish to have
stolen a roll of chicken wire from Eversfield
property, and the result was a tougher one – one
month's hard labour.
Patsy Kelly, drunk on a Sunday night, and 'interfering
with several young men during band practice' and 'a
person in a bath chair', got away with a 5s fine, but
poor Annie Mills from Warnham, with her face 'greatly
disfigured with bruises', was not so lucky. She was
found drunk in the Carfax at 5pm, and ended up with
seven days hard labour. A certain PC Backlog attended
court – an appropriate name for a law enforcement
officer today, some might think.
Lastly, a case with a happy result. Jessie Morley was
accused of stealing 6d-worth of beer and whisky while
a barmaid at the Bedford. This was a funny old
business, and it looks as if the landlady, Mrs
Fieldsend, had brought the case against Jessie out of
spite. The court room was crowded, and they all heard
how a man called Andrews was given a free pint of beer
worth 2d. He and another had come into the pub and
asked for drinks, and the barmaid said 'fill up this
glass - it is my honeymoon day, I will see to
payment'. However, to much applause, the court ended
up by deciding that there was no case to answer; it
was declared that 'never had been heard a more
preposterous case', and the Bench agreed to give
Jessie a certificate fully exonerating her.
On this positive note, after some depressing tales of
fecklessness, drunkenness and poverty, all sadly
typical of the time, what a good way to end this brief
dip into courtroom life in Edwardian Horsham.
Brian Slyfield |
