Chapter XI: The Scene at the Modern Ceremony

Humorous account of a recent Flitch festival, which appeared in the London _Star_, may be reproduced in part, as an outsider's impression of the modern ceremony--

The sun poured down on Dunmow meadows. Most of the population of the country round was gathered in holiday dress, and a steam barrel organ, which neighed a series of melodies without intermission, drove all the birds to the adjoining counties and made things sonorously cheerful. The rustics threw balls at cocoanuts, drank beer, ate cakes, and disported themselves innocently through the early hours awaiting the matrimonial inquisition.

The huge marquee tent, where the secrets of several households were to be ruthlessly laid bare, was visited by a number of chubby gentlemen who whispered mysteriously. Finally, at three o'clock all was ready, and public shillings flowed in a steady stream into the committee's hat. Soon the tent was crowded to suffocation.

There was a platform with a big chair for the judge, a bench for the claimants and tables for the counsel. There were twelve seats for the jury on the left. An assortment of functionaries walked to and fro on the stage and disappeared into side rooms through _portières_ artistically constructed of old corn bags blended in tasteful harmony. Finally the _portières_ swung back and the historical company appeared.

There was a Judge in scarlet and ermine wearing a full-bottomed wig which appeared to have been thoughtfully improvised overnight from a woolly grey doormat. There were two Counsel in wigs and gowns, one for the claimants and one against them. There was an Usher in a gown and fishing pole, which, it was explained to anxious enquirers, was his rod of office. This picturesque party sat down with great gravity, and looked at each other with great gravity until the jury came in.

The Jury created a sensation. It consisted of six pairs of strawberry and cream cheeks, six dimpled noses and six new straw hats. It wore other things also, including white dresses and knots of pink ribbon to indicate its official importance. It also giggled and then looked serious, but it did not all giggle at once or look serious at once.

After the young misses came six lads with knots of ribbon and feet which the owners seemed to want to get out of the way. One juryman in his despair had the courage to begin a conversation with the young jurywoman in front of him.

It is one of the rules of the Flitch that the married couples shall be judged by a Jury whose matrimonial knowledge is purely theoretical.

The first couple were a parson and his wife, both a little portly. They were a charming couple however, and had the documents to prove it. The second pair was a doctor and his wife and both wore eye-glasses. They were slender. The wife smiled pleasantly and the husband looked shrewd and good-natured. The lady belonging to the third couple seemed starched and stiff and her husband had rather a crisp expression. The first name of the male claimant in this case was William Willie. Smaller absurdities than this have been the subject of a domestic scene, but the life of Mr. and Mrs. William Willie was understood to be beautiful. Mrs. William Willie was a laundress, and William Willie occasionally helped her.

The history of each couple was given. They were all of middle age and had all been married within a few years. Mr. William Willie, it was said, fell in love with Mrs. William Willie at Hounslow, and, though called to foreign parts, returned to find her faithful.

The attorney for the claimants was an eloquent man. He spoke of Fitzwalter and other things and then he said that he was confident that his clients would safely pass the ordeal and told the jury so repeatedly, the jury giggling each time.

When the first couple stood up it was certainly very funny. The audience laughed loud and long. There is nothing very much funnier than a sedate and elderly couple being gravely questioned in the presence of hundreds of people concerning the details of their daily life. Mr. William Willie said his wife was the best woman in England, and she always sweetly bade him goodbye when he went and greeted him with a loving smile when he came. The searching questions were so absurd and were answered in such a straightforward way that the Counsel for the claimants lost control of himself and laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks, the audience doing likewise.

Mrs. William Willie was equally straightforward but a little uncomfortable. She explained that her husband wiped his feet in muddy weather, did not smoke too much and never indulged in spirituous liquors.

Finally the Counsel, with a triumphant glance at the Jury, turned this pair over to the opposing Counsel.

Then came some impromptu repartee between Counsel, which was entirely successful. Then searching questions by the Counsel for the Bacon and more laughter. Mr. and Mrs. William Willie had testimonials from friends who had visited them to say that a cross word was unknown in their home. Counsel said that was all very well, but no one quarrelled before company. He wanted to know whether affairs were equally amicable in private. With great ingenuity he went over all the various ways in which husbands manage to ruffle the feathers of their spouses, but finally based his address to the Jury on the general valuelessness of testimonials and the all-round improbability of the whole story.

Then came another hot argument for the claimants, and the Judge summed up with great impartiality. After this the case went to the Jury.

It was awkward at first, but soon it got to whispering quite busily. Each jurywoman leaned back and was talked to by the juryman behind her, six pink ears being in such close proximity to six downy upper lips that nobody was in the least surprised when it was announced that the Jury wished to retire. It retired and it was gone many minutes. It was even feared that it had eloped, and the usher with the fishing pole was sent after it, and brought it back. It settled down with more giggles and the verdict was announced: For the claimants. And there was a storm of applause.

The other two cases passed off similarly and more quickly. Two such tender husbands and two such happy wives were never seen. It was a foregone conclusion in each case.

The chairing of the two couples through the crowds in the meadow with their Bacon swinging before them followed.

It is hardly necessary to add the comment of an historian of Essex on the attempt "to raise the ghost of the Custom": "The ceremony was only a theatrical parade of dry bones; the ancient spirit of the thing was not there--so impossible is it for society to go backward or to clothe with flesh the skeleton of an obsolete habit or dead custom, which modern feeling and refinement have long entombed."

Three years ago an imitation of the Dunmow celebration was attempted at Walthamstow.

In 1909 the farmers round about Dunmow, by co-operating to form a Dunmow Flitch Bacon Factory, carried forward the Bacon tradition on new lines.

This local record--by a Vegetarian! for _tempora mutantur_, and with the changed times which have overthrown the Flitch, _nos mutamur in illis_--should not close perhaps without the following extract from a rhyme in _Punch_. If a little better than some other poetical effusions on the subject of the Flitch, it certainly ignores the basic principle of the Flitch foundation, that it takes two to make a quarrel!--

If ever through the coming year,
You feel a mood of deep distress,
The cause whereof may not appear
(Maybe the cook, or cussedness);
If there should come the moment when
You seem to lose your self-control,
And counting slowly up to ten
Fails to relieve your soul;
If you should feel insanely prone
To controversial debate
Till reason totters on her throne
For pure desire to aggravate;
If you would madly say, you will,
Merely because I hope you won't,
Dear, though it almost makes you ill,
Think of the Flitch, and don't.

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DUNMOW TOWN HALL, where the ceremony presided over by Harrison Ainsworth took place.

"COUNSEL FOR THE BACON."--Mr. T. Gibbons in this rôle cross-examining a Claimant.

PRIORY CHURCH IN 1802.--From a drawing of this date, valuable as showing a part of the edifice now demolished.

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IN LITTLE DUNMOW.--A typical old dwelling in Little Dunmow. It was such an one, Rose Farm, that Harrison Ainsworth had in mind in describing his Dunmow Flitch Inn.

"PRIORY PLACE."--An extremely old building now in use as cottages, where the Courts of the Lord of the Manor were held. Supposed to be on the site of the Priory Manor house.

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