diminish smuggling in his section of Kent unless we get rid of the local magistrate, a young man named Albert Sarton.”
“He says that, does he?”
“Oh, he says far worse. According to Mr. Eccles-and I quote him-”The man is either corrupt, or the most incompetent ever in the history of the magistracy.’”
“That indeed is a powerful indictment,” said Sir John. ”Yet I have known colleagues who impressed me as
“The odd thing is,” said the judge, ”I’ve met the fellow, and he didn’t seem at all as Eccles described him.”
“You’ve met this Albert Sarton?”
“Yes, I have, and I remember him well. As it comes to me, I had been invited up to Oxford to address the law faculty and students. The invitation came from an old friend of mine, a former classmate he was and now a professor there. At the party given me afterward, he brought forward a good-looking young fellow not much older than your lad here”-nodding toward me. ”He gave his name as Albert Sarton and said that he was quite the most promising student lawyer they had had at Oxford in his memory. He urged me to keep young Sarton in mind for the judiciary-after a proper amount of seasoning, understand. Well, then he left me with this young fellow, and I had a chance to talk with him myself, and I must say, I was very favorably impressed by him. Not only did he show great intelligence, he also showed something far rarer among those young university fellows-good sense.
“All this was a few years past,” he continued. ”But when, just last year, the post in Deal came open, I remembered meeting this young Sarton, and I inquired after him. I found he had just passed the bar and was looking for a post. Work as a magistrate has always seemed to me good preparation for a career in the judiciary- as I’ve said to you, Sir John, each time I’ve offered a judgeship to you.”
Sir John waved a hand in a dismissive manner. ”Well, we needn’t go into that again,” said he.
“As you wish. But to continue, I happened to have another old friend in Deal, a squire who lives in a manor house up above the town-a Sir Simon Grenville. Do you perchance know him, too? I was specially close to his father at Oxford.”
“I fear not, Lord Mansfield. I leave London only on those errands on which you have sent me. I know no one in Deal.”
“Ah, well.” The chief justice shrugged indifferently. ”In any case, he is quite influential in those parts, and when he heard that young Sarton came so highly recommended, he promised to do all that he could to see that the post was offered to him. That, essentially, was all that was necessary, though Sir Simon did say that there was some slight opposition to Albert Sarton because he was not from east Kent.”
“They don’t like outsiders, I take it.”
“Don’t seem to-no, they don’t. In any case, Sarton got the job, partly through my sponsorship, and I’d heard nothing ill of him until this man George Eccles came forth with these complaints. They all have to do with the smuggling trade thereabouts. Deal seems to be the center of it, at least currently. Eccles says he is letting known smugglers go free, and so on. Says he even consorts with them. Frankly, I find it difficult to credit his complaints. First of all, they were not at all specific. Secondly, I know Sarton is not stupid-and therefore not likely to be incompetent; and as for him being corrupt, well, having met him and talked with him at some length, I can only say, I doubt it.”
“Did you express these doubts to Mr. Eccles?” asked Sir John.
“No, I did not. His appointment with the Chancellor of the Exchequer intervened. As soon as ever he had unburdened himself against Albert Sarton, he leapt to his feet and announced that he must be off to meet with no less than the Chancellor of the Exchequer himself. I had the awful feeling when he told me that he meant it to impress me.”
“Surely not,” said Sir John, suppressing a snicker.
“Well, one does get these suspicions from time to time.”
“Hmmm, tell me then, what do you wish me to do about all this?”
“Oh, I think you know. I’d like you to go down there to Deal and meet this Albert Sarton, look at his court records, interview him, ask round town about him, and form your own judgment of him. If it goes against him, then I shall pull him from his post immediately. Even if you have naught but misgivings, I shall remove him. I cannot have the power of one magistrate challenged, for it calls to question the authority of all the rest.”
Sir John sighed and said nothing for a long moment. At last did he speak up, saying, ”You give me greater right to judge him in this matter than I desire. How long would you say I should devote to this matter?”
“Oh, a few days, a week at the most.”
“Well, I doubt I can make an investigation of such importance in such a short time. The future of this Sarton fellow depends upon it, after all.”
“Then take as long as you must.”
“I have another objection-a personal one.”
“All right, let me hear it.”
“You could not have asked me to go at a worse time. My wife has gone up north to care for her ill mother, who seems near death. Departing thus, she has left me in charge of the two children-the lad here, who offers no problem, and a girl of fifteen, who does. I cannot leave her here, yet even less easily can I bring her with us to Kent.”
Lord Mansfield considered the matter. ”I would call that a problem,” said he, ”albeit not an insoluble one. Let me tell you what accommodation I can make. I shall find you a place at the residence of Sir Simon Grenville. If I write him within the next hour, I can catch the last post coach, so that he will have a day’s notice before your arrival. The fellow is ever after me to come down for a visit. He’ll be happy to welcome you.”
Sir John appeared a bit troubled by the suggestion. ”I should say, sir, that it does not necessarily follow that he would accept me as a reasonable substitute for your distinguished self.”
“He will if I tell him to,” said the Lord Chief Justice in a manner which made it clear he would brook no argument from Sir Simon, Sir John, nor indeed from any other.
“Perhaps.”
“It would be far better,” said Lord Mansfield, ”to have the girl you mentioned in the manor house than in such quarters as the town of Deal might provide.”
”I’ll grant you that.”
“And I daresay Sir Simon will be your best contact there in Deal. He knows Sarton, of course, having connived with me to put him in his position. And he must know Eccles, as well. In fact, he should be able to introduce you to any number who can be helpful there in Deal. It is, after all, no city.” Lord Mansfield stopped abruptly at that point, thrust forward, chin first, and growled, ”Well, what do you say?”
“What indeed? You seem to have thought of everything.”
“No, not quite. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll provide transportation, as well. I’ll not need my coach for the next few days and Lady Mansfield is up at our place in Hampstead. I can get by in hackneys. My coach and coachmen are yours for the remainder of the week.”
“I am quite overwhelmed. But tell me, who will take my cases?”
The Lord Chief Justice fluttered his fingers, as if to say that this was a matter of negligible importance. ”Oh, Saunders Welch, I suppose. I shall speak to him myself about it. He’ll not dare to show reluctance.”
Thus was it settled. The two talked on a few minutes more and between them arranged the details of our departure. I, for one, looked forward to the journey. With Sir John I had visited Portsmouth, Bath, and Oxford, each so different from the other two. Quite naturally I wondered, too, in what way Deal would differ, little knowing the brutal and bloody history that I would write from the events we endured there.
Lord Mansfield bade a swift farewell, declaring that he must write that letter to Sir Simon Grenville if he were to be given a proper day’s notice. He rang for the butler, who appeared instantly (he must have been eavesdropping at the door) and showed us out to the street.
Once away, Sir John turned in my direction and asked, ”Is there a hackney about? Can you find one for us?”
This surprised me. While there had been reason enough to take a coach to Bloomsbury Square-at least it was so in Sir John’s estimation-there seemed little need now to hurry back to Bow Street. Why did we not walk? It
