The Puddleford Papers: or, Humors of the West

Turtle's affidavit was a curiosity. It covered all the "p'ints," as he called them – "all the 'ish-ers' of law and all the 'ish-ers' of fact."

According to this document, he set up error in the judgment below: —

1. "'Cause the justis' had counselled with the defendant, and had sworn to go for her anyhow.

2. "'Cause the justis' allowed Sile Bates, one of the jurymen, to leave the jury, and pettifog for Charity Beadle.

3. "'Cause there wern't but five jurymen to try the cause, and there had orter been six.

4. "'Cause counsel hadn't mor'n half got through arguing the case to the jury, when the justis' shut them off, and forcibly sent out the jury to deliberate on their verdict.

5. "'Cause the justis' err'd in everything from the beginnin' to the end of the cause.

6. "'Cause he 'low'd Charity Beadle's set-off, which was agin all kind-er law, and never heer'd on in the books.

7. "'Cause the justis' drank liquor while he was tryin' the cause.

8. "'Cause the justis' got inter a passion while he was tryin' the cause.

9. "'Cause the jury got drunk while they were tryin' the cause.

10. "'Cause liquor was sold clus by the court room all the time they were tryin' the cause.

11. "'Cause one of the jurymen warn't fit to sarve – he bein' no voter – or if he was, he never had voted.

12. "'Cause, as he understood, the jury flopp'd a copper to see who should win the cause.

13. "And, finally, the verdict warn't no verdict, 'cause the jury didn't agree."

Here were "p'ints" enough to overthrow the most righteous cause in the world. This affidavit was filed before Squire Longbow, within the time prescribed by statute, as appeared by the return of the magistrate to the county court, and the return itself of Squire Longbow was also spread out as large as life on the files of the same.

If there was anything that Squire Longbow did pride himself upon, it was his returns to county court. He had often said, "that he would like to see the man who could pick a flaw in one of his papers." He said "that none of his decisions had ever been 'squashed' by the upper courts. He knew what la' was, and when a man knew the law, he would allers be sustained."

I do not know as it is worth while to give the full return of the Squire to the threatening array of legal objections found in Turtle's affidavit. He argued every one of them as if his very existence, both as a man and a magistrate, depended on the result. In substance, he returned to the first point, —

"That of course he counselled some with both of the parties. He didn't want folks quarrellin' 'bout nothin' – a-spendin' their time and their money – and how could he know anything about the case, if the parties didn't tell him. He was a sworn officer, bound to do his duty, or throw up – if he should ish-er papers for everybody that axed him to, without lookin' into the case, he wouldn't do nothin' but try causes. His time was worth sumthin', as well as other folkses. It was his business to see that every plaintiff had a case, and that every defendant had a defence. Turtle counsell'd with him first, and he tho't Turtle had a case – but he lied to him, or was greatly mistaken, at any rate – Miss Beadle counsell'd next, and he then saw it was all up with Turtle, but it was too late to stop proceedings, for the summons had gone out, and couldn't be stopp'd; if it could-er been, he'd stopp'd it."

To the second point, the Squire returned, —

"That he did 'low Sile Bates to leave the jury, and 'pear as counsel for Charity Beadle – that that was constitutional right – right-er counsel in all crim'nal cases, thank the Lord, was presarv'd yet – and the case was a crim'nal case, or a kind-er crim'nal case – 'twarn't for debt, and must be crim'nal. He couldn't choose counsel for anybody – thank the Lord that was a personal right – Charity Beadle had the right to choose her own counsel – it warn't none of his business who she took – how could any one take her counsel away from her by putting him outer a jury – that would destroy the constitution itself. If the court would jist look inter Story on the constitution, he'd see how that was; and if he ever did make a righteous decision, that was a righteous decision. The woman sav'd her case by it – for if she hadn't had any counsel, the greatest injustice would-er come on't – maybe the jury would-er 'greed – and she– nobody knows where she would-er been now."

To the third point he returned, —

"''Cause there wern't but five jurymen,' it is said. Well, there warn't. What of it? Five were jist as good in this case, as six; 'cause if five couldn't agree, how could six?'"

To the fourth point, as follows, —

"He did choke off counsel while they were argerin' the cause to the jury, and swore the officer and sent out the jury to deliberate. He'd do it agin, under like circumstances. They vi'lated the dignity of the court – there wern't no order nor nothin' – everything went on hurly-burly – there was more racket than if there was a town-meetin'. One thing there had got-ter be, and that was order in his court – he might-er sent them all to jail for contempt – but he wanted to be mild with 'em – he didn't allers think it best to go to the length of the la' – two counsel talkin' to the jury at onct was agin all la' – it was a great contempt of court – they'd orter been fin'd ten dollars apiece – but he didn't want-er fine 'em – he took a shorter course – he acted in his discretion – and he had a discretion in sich cases – any other court would-er done as he did, or worse, maybe. So long as he was magistrate, he meant to be magistrate – and his court was a court – and that thing people had got-ter find out, sooner or later."

To the fifth point, as follows, —

"He'd jist submit that to the higher court."

To the sixth point, as follows, —

"He did let in the set-off of Charity Beadle, and he did it, arter examinin' all the 'thorities on that p'int. He consulted Squire Brown, too, who did business down inter the State of New York, as justis', more'n ten years, and who had a great many jist sich cases afore him. The Squire said it was la' there, and had bin ever sin' he was a boy – and York la' was good la' anywhere. Story was dead for 'lowin' sich kind-er set-offs, and his works were all in favor on't – and it would be a likely p'int for anybody to set up that sich a set-off couldn't be allow'd. Filkins sues for so much money for so many slanders – now, then, he would jist like to know, if five slanders are worth ten dollars to her, if five slanders wouldn't be worth ten dollars to Charity Beadle – and if one ten dollars ain't jist as good as another ten dollars – he would like to know if one don't suffer jist as much as t'other – and if one hadn't orter be paid jist as much as t'other. If you go lyin' round 'bout me, you've got to pay, but if I go lyin' round 'bout you, I hain't got-ter pay – he'd like to know what justis' there was in all that – he didn't b'lieve Turtle thought so himself, but he was allers tryin' to bull-rag the court – and he warn't goin' to be bull-ragg'd by him nor nobody else."

To the seventh point, as follows, —

"He didn't know whether Mr. Turtle meant to be personal or not. He didn't know whether he meant to say, right out, that he was drunk, or not. If he did, he was a liar. He had no right to slander him onter the public records of the higher courts, in that sort-er way. What if he did drink? he had a right to drink – that was his business – when anybody can say that Squire Longbow is unfit for business from 'licker,' then there's time 'nough to blow out at him, and not afore – he shouldn't notice that p'int any furder."

To the eighth point, as follows, —

"'Got inter a passion?' He did rise in his wrath onct or twict, to presarve the order of the court. He warn't goin' to sit and be trampled on. He was de-tar-min'd that justis' should take its course, if he had to fight to do it. He couldn't keep Turtle down any other way – he'd used up all the fines in the staterts agin him, and that wouldn't do – he tore on worse than ever – and he'd jist say here, it was high time the fines were increas'd. He informed the court that Turtle said, 'he hadn't but one eye, and that he couldn't see but a little ways – that he hadn't as many brains as an 'ister – that his head was full-er cobwebs or bumble-bees, he didn't know which – that his judgment warn't good on a common note-er-hand – that he warn't up to the school-marm, for she could read – and that he did get inter a passion that the court should have been so trampled upon – for he would presarve the dignity of his court so long as he was magistrate – a great deal depended upon order in court – and when everything was a-goin' topsy-turvy, there warn't no justis' – he should allers, use jist as much force as was necessary to presarve order – and get into a passion, too, if he wanted to."

To the ninth point, as follows, —

"He didn't know whether the jury were drunk or not – that's their biz-ness, not his'n – they could answer for themselves on that p'int; and if Mr. Turtle wanted to know how that was, he'd better ax 'em; he warn't a-goin' to – he never took away any of the priv'leges of the jury – they were sacred things to him. When he tried cases, he did as he was a mind-ter, and the jury did as they were a mind-ter – if they wanted to drink, he wouldn't interfere – 'twas out of his jurisdiction – he never did dabble with a jury, nor he never would – but he would say that the jury 'peared very well, listened to all the evidence as men should – stay'd out long 'nough to consider on the evidence and gin in a verdict, he verily believed, 'cordin' to their oath."

To the tenth point, as follows, —

"Licker might-er bin sold clus to the court-room – but it warn't sold in the court-room – that he'd never 'low'd since he was a justice – every man who drank, went inter the bar-room, and thar was a strong pe-tition and a clus door atween the two rooms – he wouldn't-er 'low'd a drop in the court-room – he had allers bin very keerful 'bout that – they did drink onct or twict, but it was in the bar-room – the trial was very long and very troublesome – and the jury got dry – but they drank every time in the bar-room, and not in the court-room – and he was keer-ful every time they did drink, to 'journ the court, to save all questions – and he would say that Turtle drank as often as anybody – and onct, certainly, he moved to 'journ the court for to drink, and nothin' else – and now he goes up to the higher court, and makes a fuss 'bout it – the staterts said there should be no licker sold in the room where the court is held – not out of it, nor in the next room – and he'd allers bin a la'-'bidin' man, and allers meant to be."

To the eleventh point, as follows, —

"He didn't know whether the juryman was a voter or not – 'twas none of his bizness – best known to himself – if he set, knowin' he warn't a juryman, he orter to be proceeded agin by the next grand jury."

To the twelfth point as follows, —

"How in airth did he know anything 'bout floppin' coppers – he warn't thar – he warn't a juryman – he was the court – they might-er flopped for all he knew – but he had seen Mr. Swipes, who was one of the men who set, and he says thar warn't a copper flopped."

To the thirteenth point, as follows, —

"There was a verdict, and it was recorded on his docket – it was, 'that the jury couldn't agree, one of 'em standin' out 'cause he was a-feared or wanted to be pop'lar with somebody;' and that was jist as it was gin in."

Squire Longbow had returned much more matter to the court than he was required to do by his affidavit, which has not been stated – mere speculations of his own about the law and facts of the case as they appeared before him, all of which he said the court "orter know."

The judge of the county court was an enlarged edition of Longbow himself – enlarged, because his jurisdiction was greater. He was one of the foremost men of the county, because he was one of the most independent. He owned a great deal of land, and a great deal of stock – bought and sold much – and had acquired a practical knowledge of the way things were done in a new country. He had been school inspector, highway commissioner, supervisor, and member of the legislature, and he was now judge. He did not know any law, except what Bates, Turtle, and other kindred pettifoggers had taught him – and when he shot at a case, he shot in the dark. He was right half of the time upon the result of chances; and that, perhaps, was doing as well as half the judges do, who pretend to more knowledge in the profession. He was a stumpy, red-headed man, and very "percussion" in his decisions – gave very short or no reasons for them – and like Longbow, didn't know a technicality from a sign-post.

The law points in the appeal were first to be argued – if Turtle failed on them, he was then entitled to a trial on the facts.

Turtle argued his law points in a pile. He flung the whole return at the judge in gross, playing first upon this string, and then upon that, abusing everybody connected with the cause but his own witnesses and himself, until he blew himself almost entirely out of breath.

He began by flattering the court. "It was sunthin'," he said, "to have a county court to 'peal up to – if 'twarn't for that, he'd stop business – Squire Longbow had got so that la' warn't la' any more with him. When he first came inter the settlement, he was a pretty good justis, but he was as woolly as a sheep now. If he got a crotchet inter his head, you couldn't beat it out – he was worse now than he was afore he got married the second time. The cause below was killed by him – he was 'torney, and justis, and jury – he had 'greed to go for defendant from the start – had knock'd the jury inter fits by takin' Sile Bates off on't agin la' – had let folks in to swear that hadn't lived in the State six months, and nobody know'd whether they were to be believed or not; but the presumption of la' was agin 'em – that he cuss'd him for it, but that didn't do any good – that the Squire drank himself, and let the jury get drunk, shocking as the fact might be – and yet he warn't a drunken man – rather a sober man – but it was done by him to fuddle the jury, and spile his cause – that he let in the almight-i-est set-off he ever did hear on – the very thought on't was 'nough to give this court spasms – and this court orter for that, if for nothin' else, 'point a guar-dine over him – that he told him when he did it, that he'd foller the case to the backside of sundown, and blow him inter flinders, but he didn't seem to care 'bout it – that the jury did flop on the verdict, and the justis' knew it, and his return warn't worth shucks on that p'int" – and so on for an hour or more, until he became exhausted.

Sile Bates rose and said, "that, 'cordin' to the return of the justice, Turtle's speech was a lie!"

Mr. Turtle hurled an inkstand and contents at Bates's head, which besmeared him from head to foot.

Mr. Bates hurled another back at him, which emptied its contents upon Mr. Turtle.

The court called them both to order, reminding them that things were going too far.

Mr. Bates declared "it was a lie!"

Mr. Turtle said "he should boot him if the word was repeated."

Mr. Bates repeated the word, and was booted through the court-house door.

Difficulties being settled, counsel appeared in court very amiable, covered with ink, ready to proceed.

Mr. Turtle attempted to 'pologize to the court – "he had no 'pology for Bates."

The court remarked that "it wasn't necessary – the doctrine of set-off would apply."

Mr. Bates said he had no speech to make – the court knew the justice who made the return – if it believed him, then Turtle might as well cave.

During this uproar, Philista Filkins with her friends, and Charity Beadle with her friends, each troop ranged round their counsel, were looking upon this war of words with the most intense anxiety. Miss Filkins had attired herself for the occasion in a mussy crape dress, a pinched-up hat, and a black shawl, being, as she said, in affliction. She declared that Miss Beagle tried to "spile" her character, and she felt it, for that when that was gone, one might as well give up, and die. She carried a deep-set grievance in her face, a fixed anguish, which occasionally broke up into a snuffle. She was sustained, however, as has been seen, in her trials, by a few benevolent Puddleford ladies, who had most magnanimously followed her and her case, reckless of time and money, and who said, "they meant to see the end on't, cost what it might."

Miss Beadle and her friends were a very different-looking tempered body. They were charged to the brim with acid and red pepper. They looked and felt lightning, and any one could see at a glance that they meant to fight as long as there was a hair of their friend left. It was generally understood that they had agreed to "throw in around" and help Miss Charity out, and her case had now, of course, become their case, and Bates was as much their lawyer as Miss Beadle's lawyer – and Turtle, when he got "ramptious," was jest as "sassy" to them as he was to the court, or Miss Beadle, they said – "and if they were not greatly mistaken, he'd see the day that he'd repent on't."

The women who composed these two hostile factions got into several side-fights between themselves, what Ike called "collateral ish-ers" – and twitted each other of a dozen or more dead and buried slanders, which had for a long time been forgotten. Mrs. Bird gave Aunt Sonora a regular "runnin' over," as she call'd it – "a piece of her mind, that would last her as long as she liv'd." She told Aunt Sonora, who was one of Miss Filkins's body-guard, that "she was a pretty old woman to come up thar and try to screen that Filkins critter—she'd better stick up for her– she was a nice old woman – a handsum old woman – a beau-tiful old woman – she'd better be home a-takin' care on her children – she'd better be a mendin' her husband's old breeches – it would look a great deal better. What if Filkins had lied as much about her, or her old man, she'd ask her that. Guess'd she'd make the fur fly some – guess'd she wouldn't-er stood it no longer than other folks – guess'd she couldn't get along without a character better'n other people – guess'd she hadn't got any too much to brag on, anyhow, if reports were true – s'pose she should rake up all she'd heer'd about her, and go tellin' it round arter everybody, where would she be. Bah! how I hate sich folks," she continued, putting on one of her most contemptible faces, and spitting like a mad cat, at Aunt Sonora.

Aunt Sonora was a philosopher on such occasions. She knew the storm would soon blow over, and that Mrs. Bird would be "round," to take tea with her, in less than a week – so she took a quiet pinch of snuff, and told Mrs. Bird in reply, that "she'd call onto the court, if she cut any more of her antics round her – she ought-er recollect she was in the high court, and they didn't 'low any flabbergastin' in sich places; she'd be in jail quicker'n scart first thing she know'd, and her hull pack with her, if they didn't keep mighty mum. She wasn't in Puddleford now, she'd find, if she let her mouth spit bile at that rate."

Mrs. Bird sobered down.

Squire Longbow was also present, to see the end of this famous suit. The Squire usually followed his cases into the county court, "to look arter 'em," as he said, "and to explain things." He was dressed in his best suit of homespun, and also had on his most dignified air. He did not even wince during the scathing Turtle gave him and his return, feeling perfectly sure that he couldn't be hurt by any country 'torney in the upper courts. He "ray-ther thought he was known thar." The county judge, in a very summary and careless manner, decided, "the p'ints Mr. Turtle had raised warn't good; they were all agin the return of the justis'; and he must pay respect to the lower courts."

(Here Squire Longbow drew his pocket handkerchief and blew his nose like a trumpet, to call the attention of the by-standers to the decision.)

He would repeat – this for the benefit of the Squire, evidently – "they were all agin the return of the justis', who was an old magistrate, and had did a great deal of business."

(Here the Squire bowed his head, by way of assent, to the court.)

"The court orter say, further, that Mr. Turtle's affidavit was sworn to, and how he could have sworn to such an affidavit, right agin the return of the justis', was mor'n he know'd; perhaps Mr. Turtle know'd himself, and could inform the court."

Mr. Turtle said that was his business. Mr. Turtle spoke very short, for he was greatly nettled.

The court said, "it didn't make any difference – it warn't neither here nor thar – the p'ints were all squashed, and that was his decision; costs to go agin Turtle."

"Agin Turtle," exclaimed Ike, rising, "costs agin Turtle!"

"Agin Turtle's client," said the court, correcting himself.

"That sounds a leetle more like a court of justis'," added Ike; "but it was a bull-head decision, he would say that, if he rotted in jail for contempt, that is, if anybody could commit contempt agin such a bass-wood-headed court, as this had got-ter be!"

A jury was now about to be impanelled to try the case between Filkins and Beadle a second time, and this was no small matter. The whole county had heard of this remarkable suit, and had talked about it, and each person had allied himself or herself to the parties. A very small matter will throw a new country into a tempest of excitement, as a very few matters of importance exist to get excited about. When the panel was filled, and the clerk had announced that fact to the court, Ike saw, or thought he saw, some of the most violent Beadle men in the county among the number. He had only two peremptory challenges, and if he could not remove some of them for "cause," as the books say, "he was gone up," as he thought to himself.

Mr. Buzzlebaum, a hickory-headed farmer, with short hair, which stuck up all over his head like a porcupine's quills, was a very dangerous man. Ike knew he was a bachelor, and he had been strongly suspected of "paying some attention" to Miss Beadle; so Ike put a few questions to Mr. Buzzlebaum.

"Mr. Buzzlebaum," exclaimed Ike, "you a juryman in this case?"

Mr. Buzzlebaum said he was.

"Y – e – s," drawled Ike, "so I see," as if he had got on the panel fraudulently some way.

"Know Miss Beadle?"

"Yes!"

"You do know the 'oman then?"

"Yes!"

"Sot up at her house any?"

"Sot up!"

"Yes, sot up; don't you know what that is by this time, at your time-er life, Mr. Buzzlebaum?"

"Well, what of it?" asked Mr. Buzzlebaum.

"What – of – it! Je-ru-sa-lem!" exclaimed Ike, slapping a book on the table, and looking fury at the court. "The man says 'what of it?' – sittin' up with the defendant nights a-courtin' her, and then wants to know what of it? Wouldn't he be a pretty man to try this case?"

"Sot up where?" inquired Buzzlebaum.

"How do I know where! Ever talk of marryin' the 'oman, hey?"

"Wal!" heaved Buzzlebaum.

"No wals here; you're sworn now; out with it. Didn't you tell old Soper, if she warn't so old and rusty-like, you'd strike, hit or miss? What, sir?"

"Wal!" groaned Buzzlebaum again.

"Guilty as a dog; won't answer; is a-goin'-ter die game, right inter the face of the court," exclaimed Ike.

Mr. Buzzlebaum began to scratch his head, and just got an idea of what "sot up" meant, and declared, "he'd never sot up with Miss Beadle, nor nobody else, but he warn't goin' to answer any more questions;" and asking another juryman for his hat, which stood among a huddle of hats outside the jury-box, "leaned" for the door, amid the cries of the court, clerk, Bates, &c., of "hold on," "don't go," "stop him," "bring him back, sheriff," &c. But Buzzlebaum didn't return.