His wife used every argument she could think of to induce him to accept a lawyer's services for his defence, but he would not consent to it, saying, "I'll stand up and tell 'em what I did, and own what was wrong. If so be they turn agin my true defence, they wont believe the lies of a long-shore lawyer." Like many other sailors, the unfortunate fellow had a dread of the legal profession; and trusting to the mercy of the court, and the facts of the case coming out on his trial, determined to defend himself. Clare's friends also urged him to alter his determination, but in vain; and with great reluctance they gave up their pleading, and were compelled to abandon him to his own resources. There was great excitement on the Common Hard at Portsmouth, on the morning when the signal gun from the Victory announced the holding of a court-martial on Clare's case. Crowds of what are termed "the lower orders" were assembled all along the portion of the Hard off which the flag-ship was moored, their object being to witness the embarkation of the officers of the court, who were to be conveyed on board in boats specially detailed for the duty. Every one was in full dress, and the handsome blue and gold uniforms of the officers contrasted strongly with the squalid appearance of the crowd who swarmed around them. As each member of the court left his carriage at the end of the wharf, he found, to his disgust, that he had to walk between a line of these "lower orders," who, unabashed by his grand air and dazzling uniform, passed remarks upon any one who happened to be unpopular, in a manner more free than pleasant. Not having any fear of the lash, they gave their thoughts free vent. "There goes lanky Jack, who flogged a boat's crew because his wife ran away with a sojer officer," screamed a woman in the crowd, as Captain Curt, a well-known advocate for the lash, walked down and entered the boat. "Lord help Tom Clare if there's many more like _him_ in the court," said another lady. Some commanders were more popular, particularly with the Irish women, who formed no small part of the crowd; and gratuitous advice, such as, "Be aisy wid the poor boy, captain, aroon," or, "Say a good word for poor Tom, for the love of the mother of yez," were freely offered on all sides. The spectators up to this time were, excepting in their observations, tolerably quiet. But when Commander Puffeigh, Lieutenant Crushe, Mr. Cravan, Mr. Shever, and the other witnesses, came down to the wharf, a loud yell of hatred broke from the people, and several stones were thrown at the officers. Unfortunately on their arrival at the end of the pier, they found no boat to receive them, and for ten minutes had to bear the insults of the mob. Puffeigh was resplendent in a brand new uniform, which fitted him like a tight pair of boots; in fact, he was so well tailored, that he could scarcely breathe. "Isn't that a picture for a tax-payer?" cried a voice.