The Angry Exile: Victoria and Victorian attitudes

The Hangman

Into our town the Hangman came,
Smelling of gold and blood and flame.
And he paced our bricks with a diffident air,
And built his frame in the courthouse square.
The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
Only as wide as the door was wide;
A frame as tall, or little more,
Than the capping sill of the courthouse door.
And we wondered, whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal, what the crime
That the Hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.
And innocent though we were, with dread,
We passed those eyes of buckshot lead --
Till one cried: "Hangman, who is he
For whom you raised the gallows-tree?"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
And he gave us a riddle instead of reply:
"He who serves me best," said he,
"Shall earn the rope of the gallows-tree."
And he stepped down, and laid his hand
On a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for another's grief
At the Hangman's hand was our relief
And the gallows-frame on the courthouse lawn
By tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way, and no one spoke,
Out of respect for his Hangman's cloak.
The next day's sun looked mildly down
On roof and street in our quiet town,
And stark and black in the morning air
Was the gallows-tree in the courthouse square.
And the Hangman stood at his usual stand
With the yellow hemp in his busy hand;
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike
And his air so knowing and business-like.
And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done
Yesterday, with the foreign one?"
Then we fell silent, and stood amazed,
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."
He laughed a laugh as he looked at us:
"Did you think I'd gone to all this fuss
To hang one man? That's a thing I do
To stretch a rope when the rope is new."
Then one cried "Murder!" and one cried "Shame!"
And into our midst the Hangman came
To that man's place. "Do you hold," said he,
"with him that was meant for the gallows-tree?"
And he laid his hand on that one's arm.
And we shrank back in quick alarm!
And we gave him way, and no one spoke
Out of fear of his Hangman's cloak.
That night we saw with dread surprise
The Hangman's scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
The gallows-tree had taken root;
Now as wide, or a little more,
Than the steps that led to the courthouse door,
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
Halfway up on the courthouse wall.
The third he took -- we had all heard tell --
Was a usurer, and an infidel.
"What," said the Hangman "have you to do
With the gallows-bound, and he a Jew?"
And we cried out, "Is this one he
Who has served you well and faithfully?"
The Hangman smiled: "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows-beam."
The fourth man's dark, accusing song
Had scratched our comfort hard and long;
"And what concern," he gave us back.
"Have you for the doomed -- the doomed and Black?"
The fifth. The sixth. And we cried again,
"Hangman, Hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick," he said. "that we hangmen know
For easing the trap when the trap springs slow."
And so we ceased, and asked no more,
As the Hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night,
The gallows grew to monstrous height.
The wings of the scaffold opened wide
Till they covered the square from side to side;
And the monster cross-beam, looking down,
Cast its shadow across the town.
Then through the town the Hangman came,
Through the empty streets, and called my name --
And I looked at the gallows soaring tall,
And thought, "There is no one left at all
For hanging, and so he calls to me
To help pull down the gallows-tree."
So I went out with right good hope
To the Hangman's tree and the Hangman's rope.
He smiled at me as I came down
To the courthouse square through the silent town.
And supple and stretched in his busy hand
Was the yellow twist of the hempen strand.
And he whistled his tune as he tried the trap,
And it sprang down with a ready snap --
And then with a smile of awful command
He laid his hand upon my hand.
"You tricked me. Hangman!," I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men...
And I no henchman of yours," I cried,
"You lied to me, Hangman. Foully lied!"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
"Lied to you? Tricked you?" he said. "Not I.
For I answered straight and I told you true --
The scaffold was raised for none but you.
For who has served me more faithfully
Then you with your coward's hope?" said he,
"And where are the others who might have stood
Side by your side in the common good?"
"Dead," I whispered. And amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me:
"First the foreigner, then the Jew...
I did no more than you let me do."
Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
None had stood so alone as I.
The Hangman noosed me, and no voice there
Cried "Stop!" for me in the empty square.

Maurice Ogden

Thursday, 2 June 2011

Victoria and Victorian attitudes

Apparently we're not allowed to swear in Victoria anymore. In fact it turns out that offensive language has been an, er, offence, since the sixties even if there isn't anyone around to hear it, but Victoria's wonderful new improved Liberal with a silent 'Il' government have decided it's a good idea to give the police powers to impose fines of $240 for

... using language deemed to be indecent, disorderly, offensive or threatening.

Deemed to be? Deemed? And who gets to decide that, because since it's an on-the-spot fine it sounds awfully like it'll be the cops. Currently that might not be a big deal since they're having a bit of a work to rule at the moment and are sufficiently annoyed with the government to flash their lights at drivers to warn them to slow down for speed traps, so I can imagine them choosing to turn a blind eye to someone's potty mouth, but that's not going to last beyond the time they get a pay deal sorted out or give up.

And what's the thinking behind this? Beyond the possibility that the Liberal In Name Only government of Victoria wants everyone in the state to sound like characters from a Jane Austen novel all the time. Believe it or not they think it'll give the police more time to for real police work.

Yes, they really said that.

The crackdown — which extends the Baillieu government's ever-growing law-and-order agenda — means police will be able to issue infringement notices for offensive behaviour and indecent language similar to parking and speeding fines.

Attorney-General Robert Clark said the idea was to lower the police workload by allowing them to issue fines instead of tackling bad language using the court system.

"It frees up police time for other law enforcement activities and enables them to more readily issue penalties against those offenders who deserve them," Mr Clark said.

While I can see a certain amount of sense in the idea of not getting cops to waste heaps of time on prosecuting a trivial swearing offence through the courts it's clearly not occurred to the AG or the government that with coarse language being so commonplace that even Prime Ministers have been known to swear live on air they could end up with police doing little but hand out swearing tickets all day long. Hardly freeing up police time for other law enforcement activities, is it? Look, Robert, if you really want the police out there doing high value police work the answer is not to encourage them to spend even more time go after the low hanging fruit of easy ~~crimes~~ offences committed by not-actual-criminals against non-existent victims, but instead to identify all the victimless crimes on the books

However, being a law abiding citizen I will be washing my mouth out from now on, which means a change to my usual blogging subjects. I will no longer blog on things that annoy me and induce me to apoplectic and sweary rage, so from this point on this will become a travel blog. I have two destinations to talk about today, one in Austria and one in the Orkneys, both of which I'd hope will meet with the approval of the Attorney General.