'Worship Street': H. C. Biron

Ward's chromolithograph catches Henry Charles Biron, stipendiary magistrate at Worship Street Police Court in East London, seated at his bench in a tall, throne-like chair upholstered in dark green leather—an object that dwarfs him comically and underscores the pomposity of minor judicial office. Biron sits in profile, grey-haired, sharp-nosed, hands folded over papers, wearing a sober black frock coat rather than robes. The caption 'Worship Street' names the court without naming the man, a Vanity Fair conceit that assumes readers share the gossip. Ward's target is institutional self-importance, rendered with his characteristic economy of line and quiet, dry wit.