Law and Laughter Part 1

Law and Laughter.

by George Alexander Morton and Donald Macleod Malloch.

PREFACE

The scope of this volume is indicated by its t.i.tle--a presentation of the lighter side of law, as it is exhibited from time to time in the witty remarks, repartees, and _bon mots_ of the Bench and Bar of Great Britain, Ireland, and America. The idea of presenting such a collection of legal _facetiae_ originated with the late Mr. D. Macleod Malloch, and it is greatly to be regretted that by his untimely death, his share of the work had reached the stage of selecting only about one-half of the material included in the book. His knowledge of law, and his wide reading in legal biography, was such as would have increased considerably the value of this volume.

In addition to sources which are acknowledged in the text, I have to mention contributions drawn from the following works: W. D. Adams'

_Modern Anecdotes_; W. Andrews' _The Lawyer in History, Literature and Humour_; Croake James's _Curiosities of Law_; F. R. O'Flanagan's _The Irish Bar_; and A. Engelbach's comprehensive and entertaining _Anecdotes of the Bench and Bar_. I am further indebted to Sir James Balfour Paul, Lyon King of Arms, for permission to include "The Circuiteer's Lament,"

from the privately printed volume _Ballads of the Bench and Bar_, and to the editor of the _Edinburgh Evening Dispatch_ for a number of the more recent anecdotes in the Scottish chapters of the book.

GEO. A. MORTON.

CHAPTER ONE

THE JUDGES OF ENGLAND

Mr. Justice Darling, whose witty remarks from the Bench are so much appreciated by his audiences in Court, and, it is rumoured, are not always received with approval by his brother judges, says, in his amusing book _Scintillae Juris_:

"It is a common error to suppose that our law has no sense of humour, because for the most part the judges who expound it have none."

But law is, after all, a serious business--at any rate for the litigants--and it would appear also for the attorneys, for while witticisms of the Bench and Bar abound, very few are recorded of the attorney and his client. "Law is law" wrote the satirist who decided not to adopt it as a profession. "Law is like a country dance; people are led up and down in it till they are tired. Law is like a book of surgery--there are a great many terrible cases in it. It is also like physic--they who take least of it are best off. Law is like a homely gentlewoman--very well to follow. Law is like a scolding wife--very bad when it follows us. Law is like a new fashion--people are bewitched to get into it. It is also like bad weather--most people are glad when they get out of it."

From very early times there have appeared on the Bench expounders of the law who by the phrase "for the most part" must be acquitted of Mr.

Justice Darling's charge of having no sense of humour; judges who, like himself, have lightened the otherwise dreary routine of duty by pleasantries which in no way interfered with the course of justice. One of the earliest of our witty judges, whose brilliant sayings have come down to us, was Henry VIII's Lord Chancellor, Sir Thomas More, who lost his head because he would not acknowledge his king as head of the Church. To Sir Thomas Manners, Earl of Rutland, who had made a somewhat insolent remark, the Lord Chancellor quietly replied, 'Honores mutant mores'--Honours change manners. Sir Thomas's humour was what may be called _quiet_, because its effect did not immediately show itself in boisterous merriment, but would undoubtedly remain long in the remembrance of those to whom it was addressed. Made with as much courtesy as irony, is it likely his keeper in the Tower would ever forget his remark? "a.s.sure yourself I do not dislike my cheer; but whenever I do, then spare not to thrust me out of your doors." Nor did his quaint humour desert him at the scaffold: "Master Lieutenant," said he, "I pray you see me safe up; for my coming down let me shift for myself." Even with his head on the block he could not resist a humorous remark, when putting aside his beard he said to the executioner, "Wait, my good friend, till I have removed my beard, for it has never offended his highness."

Another judge of the sixteenth century, Sir Nicholas Bacon, who resembled Sir Thomas More in the gentleness of his happiest speeches, could also on occasion exhibit an unnecessary coa.r.s.eness in his jocular retorts. A circuit story is told of him in which a convicted felon named Hog appealed for remission of his sentence on the ground that he was related to his lordship. "Nay, my friend," replied the judge, "you and I cannot be kindred except you be hanged, for hog is not bacon until it be well hung." This retort was not quite so coa.r.s.e as that attributed to the Scottish judge, Lord Kames, two centuries later, who on sentencing to death a man with whom he had often played chess and very frequently been beaten, added after the solemn words of doom, "And noo, Matthew, ye'll admit that's checkmate for you."

To Lord Chancellor Hatton, also an Elizabethan judge who aimed at sprightliness on the Bench, a clever _mot_ is attributed. The case before him was one concerning the limits of certain land. The counsel having remarked with emphasis, 'We lie on this side, my lord,' and the opposing counsel with equal vehemence having interposed, 'And we lie on this side, my lord'--the Lord Chancellor dryly observed, "If you lie on both sides, whom am I to believe?" It would seem that punning was as great a power in the Law Courts of that time as it is at the present day. When Egerton as Master of the Rolls was asked to commit a cause--refer it to a Master in Chancery--he would reply, "What has the cause done that it should be committed?"

Many witticisms of Westminster Hall, attributed to barristers of the Georgian and Victorian periods, are traceable to a much earlier date.

There is the story of Serjeant Wilkins, whose excuse for drinking a pot of stout at mid-day was, that he wanted to fuddle his brain down to the intellectual standard of a British jury. Two hundred and fifty years earlier, Sir John Millicent, a Cambridgeshire judge, on being asked how he got on with his brother judges replied, "Why, i' faithe, I have no way but to drink myself down to the capacity of the Bench." And this merry thought has also been attributed to one eminent barrister who became Lord Chancellor, and to more than one Scottish advocate who ultimately attained to a seat on the Bench.

And to various celebrities of the later Georgian period has been attributed Lord Shaftesbury's reply to Charles II. When the king exclaimed, "Shaftesbury, you are the most profligate man in my dominions," the Chancellor answered somewhat recklessly, "Of a subject, sir, I believe I am."

Bullying witnesses is an old practice of the Bar, but for instances of it emanating from the Bench one has to go very far back. A witness with a long beard was giving evidence that was displeasing to Jeffreys, when judge, who said: "If your conscience is as large as your beard, you'll swear anything." The old man retorted: "My lord, if your lordship measures consciences by beards, your lordship has none at all."

A somewhat similar story of Jeffreys' bullying manner, when at the Bar, is that of his cross-examining a witness in a leathern doublet, who had made out a complete case against his client. Jeffreys shouted: "You fellow in the leathern doublet, pray what have you for swearing?" The man looked steadily at him, and "Truly, sir," said he, "if you have no more for lying than I have for swearing, you might wear a leathern doublet as well as I."

Instances of disrespect to the Bench are rarely met with in early as happily in later days. There is, perhaps, the most flagrant example of young Wedderburn in the Scottish Court of Session, when with dramatic effect he threw off his gown and declared he would never enter the Court again; but he rose to be Lord Chancellor of England. Scarcely less disrespectful (but not said openly to the Bench) was young Edward Hyde when hinting that the death of judges was of small moment compared with his chances of preferment. "Our best news," he wrote to a friend, "is that we have good wine abundantly come over; our worst that the plague is in town, _and no judges die_."

[Ill.u.s.tration: ALEXANDER WEDDERBURN, EARL OF ROSSLYN, LORD CHANCELLOR.]

In squabbles between the Bench and the Bar there are few stories that match for personality the retort of a counsel to Lord Fortescue. His lordship was disfigured by a purple nose of abnormal growth.

Interrupting counsel one day with the observation: "Brother, brother, you are handling the case in a very lame manner," the angry counsel calmly retorted, "Pardon me, my lord; have patience with me and I will do my best to make the case as plain as--as--the nose on your lordship's face." Nor did the retort of an Attorney-General to a judge, after a warm discussion on a point which the latter claimed to decide, show much respect for the Bench. The judge closed the argument with "I ruled so and so."--"_You_ ruled," muttered the Attorney-General. "_You_ ruled!

You were never fit to rule anything but a copy-book."

Verse has been used as a medium of much amusing legal wit and humour, although law and law cases do not offer very easy subjects for turning into rhyme. But a good ill.u.s.tration is afforded by Mr. Justice Powis, who had a habit of repeating the phrase, "Look, do you see," and "I humbly conceive." At York a.s.size Court on one occasion he said to Mr.

Yorke, afterwards Lord Hardwicke, "Mr. Yorke, I understand you are going to publish a poetical version of 'c.o.ke upon Lyttelton.' Will you favour me with a specimen?"--"Certainly, my lord," replied the barrister, who thereupon gravely recited:

"He that holdeth his lands in fee Need neither shake nor shiver, I humbly conceive, for, look, do you see, They are his and his heirs for ever."

In Sir James Burrows' reports is given a poetical version of Chief Justice Pratt's decision with regard to a woman of English birth who was the widow of a foreigner.

"A woman having a settlement, Married a man with none, The question was, he being dead, If what she had was gone.

Quoth Sir John Pratt, 'The settlement Suspended doth remain Living the husband; but him dead It doth revive again.'"

Chorus of Puisne Judges:

"Living the husband; but him dead It doth revive again."

The Chief Justice's decision having been reversed by his successor, Chief Justice Ryder's decision was reported:

"A woman having a settlement Married a man with none; He flies and leaves her dest.i.tute, What then is to be done?

Quoth Ryder the Chief Justice, 'In spite of Sir John Pratt, You'll send her to the parish In which she was a brat.'

_Suspension of a settlement_ Is not to be maintained.

That which she had by birth subsists Until another's gained."

Chorus of Puisne Judges:

"That which she had by birth subsists Until another's gained."

[Ill.u.s.tration: EDWARD THURLOW, BARON THURLOW. LORD CHANCELLOR.]

Many of the well-known witticisms attributed to great judges are so tinged with personality--even tending to malignity--that no one possessing respect for human nature can read them without being tempted to regard them as mere biographical fabrications. But such a construction cannot be put upon the stories told of Lord Chancellor Thurlow, whose overbearing insolence to the Bar is well known. To a few friends like John Scott, Lord Eldon, and Lloyd Kenyon, Lord Kenyon, he could be consistently indulgent; but to those who provoked him by an independent and fearless manner he was little short of a persecutor.

Once when Scott was about to follow his leader, who had made an unusually able speech, the Chancellor addressed him: "Mr. Scott, I am glad to find you are engaged in the cause, for I now stand some chance of knowing something about the matter." This same leader of the Bar on one occasion, in the excitement of professional altercation, made use of an undignified expression before Lord Thurlow; but before his lordship could take notice of it the counsel immediately apologised, saying, "My lord, I beg your lordship's pardon. I really forgot for the moment where I was." A silent recognition of the apology would have made the counsel feel his position more keenly, but the Chancellor could not let such an opportunity pa.s.s and immediately flashed out: "You thought you were in your own Court, I presume," alluding to a Welsh judgeship held by the offending counsel.

As a contrast to Lord Thurlow's treatment of Scott's leader, the following story--given in Scott's own words--shows how the great Chancellor could unbend himself in the company of men who were in his favour. "After dinner, one day when n.o.body was present but Lord Kenyon and myself, Lord Thurlow said, 'Taffy, I decided a cause this morning, and I saw from Scott's face that he doubted whether I was right.'

Thurlow then stated his view of the case, and Kenyon instantly said, 'Your decision was quite right.' 'What say you to that?' asked the Chancellor. I said, 'I did not presume to form a case on which they were both agreed. But I think a fact has not been mentioned, which may be material.' I was about to state the fact, and my reasons. Kenyon, however, broke in upon me, and with some warmth stated that I was always so obstinate there was no dealing with me. 'Nay,' interposed Thurlow, 'that's not fair. You, Taffy, are obstinate, and give no reasons. You, Jack, are obstinate too; but then you give your reasons, and d--d bad ones they are!'"

Another anecdote again ill.u.s.trates the Chancellor's treatment of even those who were on a friendly footing with him. Sir Thomas Davenport, a great Nisi Prius leader, had long flattered himself with the hope of succeeding to some valuable appointment in the law; but several good things pa.s.sing by, he lost his patience and temper along with them. At last he addressed this laconic application to his patron: "The Chief Justiceship of Chester is vacant; am I to have it?" and received the following laconic answer: "No! by G--d! Kenyon shall have it."

Scarcely less courteous was this Lord Chancellor's treatment of a solicitor who endeavoured to prove to him a certain person's death. To all his statements the Chancellor replied, "Sir, that is no proof," till at last the solicitor losing patience exclaimed: "Really, my lord, it is very hard and it is not right that you should not believe me. I knew the man well: I saw the man dead in his coffin. My lord, the man was my client." "Good G--d, sir! why didn't you tell me that sooner? I should not have doubted the fact one moment; for I think nothing can be so likely to kill a man as to have you for his attorney."

As Keeper of the Great Seal Thurlow had the alternate presentation to a living with the Bishop of ----. The Bishop's secretary called upon the Lord Chancellor and said, "My Lord Bishop of ---- sends his compliments to your lordship, and believes that the next turn to present to ---- belongs to his lordship."--"Give his lordship my compliments," replied the Chancellor, "and tell him that I will see him d--d first before he shall present."--"This, my lord," retorted the secretary, "is a very unpleasant message to deliver to a bishop." To which the Chancellor replied, "You are right, it is so; therefore tell the Bishop that _I will be_ d--d first before he shall present."

Lord Campbell in his life of Thurlow says that in his youth the Chancellor was credited with wild excesses. There was a story, believed at the time, of some early amour with the daughter of a Dean of Canterbury, to which the d.u.c.h.ess of Kingston alluded when on her trial at the House of Lords. Looking Thurlow, then Attorney-General, full in the face she said, "That learned gentleman dwelt much on my faults, but I too, if I chose, could tell a Canterbury tale."