side
door, never more to enter the Court of Queen's Bench; "but it will
be a consolation to you to think that your names will be associated
in history with the most remarkable trial that has ever occurred in
the annals of England."

There was another jury outside Sir Alexander Cockburn's immediate
observation that always struck me, and I saw a good deal of it, as
not the least notable feature in the great trial that at one time
engrossed the attention of the English-speaking race. That was the
crowd that gathered outside the Courts of Justice, then still an
adjunct of Westminster Hall.

As there never was before a trial like that of the Claimant, so
there never was a crowd like this. It had followed him through all
the vicissitudes of his appeal to the jury of his countrymen, and
of his countrymen's subsequently handing him over to another jury
upon a fresh appeal. It began to flood the broad spaces at the
bottom of Parliament Street in far-off days when the case of
Tichborne _v._ Lushington was opened in the Sessions House, and it
continued without weariness or falling-off all through the progress
of the civil suit, beginning again with freshened zeal with the
commencement of the criminal trial.

Like the Severn, Palace Yard filled twice a day whilst the blue
brougham had its daily mission to perform, the crowd assembling in
the morning to welcome the coming Claimant, and foregathering in
the evening to speed him on his departure westward. It ranged in
numbers from 5000 down to 1000. Put the average at 3000, multiply
it by 291, the aggregate number of days which the Claimant was
before the Courts in his varied character of plaintiff and
defendant, and we have 873,000 as the total of the assemblage.

As a rule, the congregation of Monday was the largest of the week.
Why this should be, students of the manners of this notable crowd
were not agreed. Some held that the circumstance was to be accounted
for by the fact that two days had elapsed during which the Claimant
was not on view, and that on Monday the crowd came back, like a
giant refreshed, to the feast, which, by regular repetition, had
partially palled on Friday's appetite. Others found the desired
explanation in the habit which partly obtains among the labouring
classes of taking Monday as a second day of rest in the week, and
of devoting a portion of it to the duty of going down to Westminster
Hall to cheer "Sir Roger."

Probably both causes united to br