The Unrepealed
I had never given much
consideration to the question of unrepealed laws.
These are laws on the British Statute which have
fallen into disuse due to irrelevance in modern
times. Legally binding they might still be, but
Parliament has never bothered to officially
repeal dozens of them. What, after all, would be
the point of prosecuting the drivers of London
cabs for failing to carry adequate hay to feed a
horse for a day. The internal combustion engine
has long replaced the horse, so the fact that
drivers of hayless black cabs could be
arrested has never concerned the Metropolitan
Police.
This issue was brought to
public attention by the evangelical wing of the
anti-smoking lobby. They had realised that ‘Arson
in Her Majesty’s Dockyards’ remained a
capital offence and brought the first successful
prosecution of a tourist who carelessly discarded
a cigarette-end on a pavement in Portsmouth’s
Historic Dockyard. Even the judge at the trial
agreed that the penalty lacked proportion, but he
had no choice under the law than to sentence the
guilty to be hung from the yardarm of HMS Victory.
Initially, I drew no
connection between this legal anomaly and my
purchase of Manor Cottage. It was only when
researching the history of my home that I learned
that the cottage was the last remnant of the old
feudal manor and that, together with the
ownership of the cottage, I inherited the title
of ‘Lord of the Manor’. This would have
been no more than an interesting historical
curiosity had it not also given me a number of
unrepealed legal rights in relation to the
village.
The locals initially
entered into the spirit of the fun by providing
free food from local shops and free ale at the
local hostelry.
Thus all seemed to be going
very well in the village until I was the victim
of an untrue and scurrilous accusation. How could
anyone in the twenty-first century accuse me of
being a witch? Twenty villagers did, however, and
the stupid and unrepealed medieval obligation to
burn witches was invoked.
The Jailer stands at the
door and tells me that the stake is prepared. I
reply that I don’t smoke and so, no, I don’t
have any matches - but that will not delay
matters for long...
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