Part 2 (2/2)

Sir James was a noted cross-examiner and verdict-getter, but on one occasion he was beaten. Tom Cooke, a well-known actor and musician in his day, was a witness in a case in which Sir James had him under cross-examination.

Scarlett: ”Sir, you say that the two melodies are the same, but different; now what do you mean by that, sir?”

Cooke: ”I said that the notes in the two copies are alike, but with a different accent.”

Scarlett: ”What is a musical accent?”

Cooke: ”My terms are nine guineas a quarter, sir.”

Scarlett (ruffled): ”Never mind your terms here. I ask you what is a musical accent? Can you see it?”

Cooke: ”No.”

Scarlett: ”Can you feel it?”

Cooke: ”A musician can.”

Scarlett (angrily): ”Now, sir, don't beat about the bush, but explain to his lords.h.i.+p and the jury, who are expected to know nothing about music, the meaning of what you call accent.”

Cooke: ”Accent in music is a certain stress laid upon a particular note, in the same manner as you would lay stress upon a given word, for the purpose of being better understood. For instance, if I were to say, 'You are an _a.s.s_,' it rests on a.s.s, but if I were to say, '_You_ are an a.s.s,' it rests on you, Sir James.” The judge, with as much gravity as he could a.s.sume, then asked the crestfallen counsel, ”Are you satisfied, Sir James.”--”The witness may go down,” was the counsel's reply.

Lord Justice Holt, when a young man, was very dissipated, and belonged to a club, most of whose members took an infamous course of life. When his lords.h.i.+p was engaged at the Old Baily a man was convicted of highway robbery, whom the judge remembered to have been one of his early companions. Moved by curiosity, Holt, thinking the man did not recognise him, asked what had become of his old a.s.sociates. The culprit making a low bow, and giving a deep sigh, replied, ”Oh, my lord, they are all hanged but your lords.h.i.+p and I.”

We have already given examples of personalities in the retorts of counsel upon members of the Bench, and if the same derogatory reflection can be traced in the two following anecdotes of judges' retorts on counsel, it is at least veiled in finer sarcasm. A nervous young barrister was conducting a first case before Vice-Chancellor Bacon, and on rising to make his opening remarks began in a faint voice: ”My lord, I must apologise--er--I must apologise, my lord”--”Go on, sir,” said his lords.h.i.+p blandly; ”so far the Court is with you.” The other comes from an Australian Court. Counsel was addressing Chief Justice Holroyd when a portion of the plaster of the Court ceiling fell, and he stopping his speech for the moment, incautiously advanced the suggestion, ”Dry rot has probably been the cause of that, my lord.”--”I am quite of your opinion, Mr. ----,” observed his lords.h.i.+p.

On the other hand, judges can be severely personal at times, and Lord Justice Chitty was almost brutal in a case where counsel had been arguing to distraction on a bill of sale. ”I will now proceed to address myself to the furniture--an item covered by the bill,” counsel continued. ”You have been doing nothing else for the last hour,”

lamented the weary judge.

And Mr. Justice Wills once made a rather cutting remark to a barrister.

The barrister was, in the judge's private opinion, simply wasting the time of the Court, and, in the course of a long-winded speech, he dwelt at quite unnecessary length on the appearance of certain bags connected with the case. ”They might,” he went on pompously, ”they might have been full bags, or they might have been half-filled bags, or they might even have been empty bags, or--.”--”Or perhaps,” dryly interpolated the judge, ”they might have been wind-bags!”

[Ill.u.s.tration: HENRY BROUGHAM, BARON BROUGHAM AND VAUX, LORD CHANCELLOR.]

When Lord Brougham attained the position of Lord Chancellor he was greatly addicted to the habit of writing during the course of counsel's argument of the case being heard before him. On one occasion this practice so annoyed Sir Edward Sugden, whenever he noticed it, that he paused in the course of his argument, expecting his lords.h.i.+p to stop writing; but the Chancellor, without even looking up, remarked, ”Go on, Sir Edward; I am listening to you.”--”I observe that your lords.h.i.+p is engaged in writing, and not favouring me with your attention,” replied Sir Edward. ”I am signing papers of mere form,” warmly retorted the Chancellor. ”You may as well say that I am not to blow my nose or take snuff while you speak.”

When counsel at the Bar, a witness named John Labron was thus cross-examined by Brougham at York a.s.sizes:

”What are you?”

”I am a farmer, and malt a little.”

”Do you know d.i.c.k Strother?”

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