"At a certain trial an extremely pretty girl was called as a witness. The Lord Chief Justice was very particular about her giving her full name and address. Of course he took note. So did the sheriff's officer! That evening they both arrived at the young lady's door simultaneously, whereupon Sir Alexander tapped the officer on the shoulder, remarking, 'No, no, no, Mr. Sheriff's Officer, judgment first, execution afterwards!"
There never was a barrister whose rise at the Bar was more rapid or remarkable than that of Sir Alexander Cockburn, and along with him was his friend and close associate as a brother lawyer of the Crown and Bencher of the same Inn, Sir Richard Bethel, who became Lord Chancellor a few years after Sir Alexander was made Chief Justice. Sir Richard once said to his colleague, "My dear fellow, equity will swallow up your common law."—"I don't know about that," said Sir Alexander, "but you'll find it rather hard of digestion."
Although the wit of Lord Justice Knight Bruce was somewhat sarcastic it was rarely so severe as that of Lord Westbury. There was always a tone of good humour about it. He had indeed a kind of grave judicial waggery, which is well exemplified in the following judgment in a separation suit between an attorney and his wife. "The Court has been now for several days occupied in the matrimonial quarrels of a solicitor and his wife. He was a man not unaccustomed to the ways of the softer sex, for he already had nine children by three successive wives. She, however—herself a widow—was well informed of these antecedents; and it appears did not consider them any objection to their union; and they were married. No sooner were they united, however, than they were unhappily disunited by unhappy disputes as to her property. These disputes disturbed even the period usually dedicated to the softer delights of matrimony, and the honeymoon was occupied by endeavours to induce her to exercise a testamentary power of appointment in his favour. She, however, refused, and so we find that in due course, at the end of the month, he brought home with some disgust his still intestate bride. The disputes continued, until at last they exchanged the irregular quarrels of domestic strife for the more disciplined warfare of Lincoln's Inn and Doctors Commons."
Of this judge the story is told that a Chancery counsel in a long and dry argument quoted the legal maxim—expressio unius est exclusio alterius—pronouncing the "i" in unius as short as possible. This roused his lordship from the drowsiness into which he had been lulled. "Unyus! Mr. ——? We always pronounced that unius at school."—"Oh yes, my lord," replied the counsel; "but some of the poets use it short for the sake of the metre."—"You forget, Mr. ——," rejoined the judge, "that we are prosing here."
Mr. Justice Willes was a judge of kindly disposition, and when he had to convey a rebuke he did so in some delicate and refined way like this. A young barrister feeling in a hobble, wished to get out of it by saying, "I throw myself on your lordship's hands."—"Mr. ——, I decline the burden," replied the learned judge.
One day in judge's chambers, after being pressed by counsel very strongly against his own views, he said with quaint humour: "I'm one of the most obstinate men in the world."—"God forbid that I should be so rude as to contradict your lordship," replied the counsel.
Mr. Montague Williams in his Leaves of a Life relates the following story of Mr. Justice Byles. He was once hearing a case in which a woman was charged with causing the death of her child by not giving it proper food, or treating it with the necessary care. Mr. F——, of the Western Circuit, conducted the defence, and while addressing the jury said: