Anglo-American Memories

by George W. Smalley

This great and eventful career has lasted more than fifty years, and with the end of 1909 Sir George Lewis, being seventy-six years old, retired from business, leaving his son, Mr. George Lewis, and his other partner, Mr. Reginald Poole, both for many years his associates, to be his successors. Both are widely known as learned and skilful in the law; both have been trained in Sir George's methods; and the new firm is still, like the old, known as Lewis & Lewis, and they are still of Ely Place, Holborn.

It is characteristic of old days and ways in London that Sir George Lewis was born in one of the three houses now occupied by the firm. His father was a solicitor before him; a man of repute and ability, yet none the less is this vast business the creation of the son. There are in London many firms of solicitors known the world over; the Messrs. Freshfield, for example, solicitors to the Bank of England. But there is seldom or never a fame due to one man. It is due to combined action, to organization, to concentration upon one kind of business. The firm of Lewis & Lewis knew no limitations. The public thought of Sir George Lewis as the man to whom the conduct of great causes was habitually entrusted; sometimes criminal, sometimes social, often divorce cases, often those causes in which the honour of a great name or a great family is involved. True, but the business of Messrs. Lewis & Lewis was first of all a great commercial business. Sir George's permanent clients were among the city firms famous in finance, or in banking or in industry. That was the backbone of the business and continues to be.

The first case in which Mr. Lewis made himself known to the public arose out of the failure of Overend, Gurney & Co., then one of the leading houses in the City of London. He fought that case single-handed against barristers of renown; a bold thing for a solicitor to do, and perhaps without precedent. He did the same thing in the Bravo murder case, and held his own, and more than his own, against Attorney-General and Solicitor-General. No doubt, had he chosen, he might have gone to the Bar and become distinguished at the Bar, but not so had he chosen to model his life. He never could have played the part he has, had he done that. For the dividing line between solicitor and barrister in England is just as clearly drawn as ever. You may be one or the other; you cannot be both; you may pass from one to the other, but you must elect between the two.

I ask myself sometimes what London society would be to-day had there been no Sir George Lewis. It certainly would not be what it is. There have been many, many causes célèbres in which his name has figured in open court, or in the still more open newspapers. But they are as one to a hundred of those which have never been tried, and never supplied material for legal proceedings or for printed scandal. The simple truth is that Sir George Lewis, though the most successful of solicitors in contested causes, has made fame and fortune by keeping cases out of court and out of print. He carried the art of compromise to its highest point. He saw that alike in the interests of his clients and of the public, and in his own interest also, the greatest service he could do was to prevent litigation. On that he has acted consistently for fifty years.

Of how many lawyers can anything like that be said? Sir George Lewis stands alone. The money results of his policy are splendid. His renown is splendid. But the misery he has soothed and the social disruptions and disturbances and far-reaching disasters he has prevented are a tribute more splendid still. And perhaps never has the value of his advice been so evident as when it has been rejected.

In the matter which shook London society perhaps more than any other of recent years, Sir George Lewis on one side, and a brilliant young solicitor, Mr. Charles Russell, son of the late Lord Chief Justice, on the other, had come to an agreement. The instrument they had drawn jointly was ready for signature. So quietly had all this distressing business been transacted that, had the instrument been signed then and there, the world would never have heard there had been a disagreement till it learned there had been a settlement. But outside influences intervened. One of the two signatures was withheld. Then scandal broke loose and the sewers of London overflowed all winter. There were reproaches, recriminations, divisions; all London taking one side or the other. Then in the spring the same instrument, word for word, was signed. The solicitors had never wavered nor perhaps ever doubted that since they were agreed their clients must ultimately agree. It is a typical example of Sir George Lewis's methods. But the mischief that had been done by intruders could not be undone.

Sleeping for half a century, or for only years and months, in the black japanned tin boxes which line the walls in Ely Place and in his safes were papers enough to compromise half London and scandalize the other half. Sir George, reflecting some years ago on this state of things, looked through the collection and then burnt the whole. That is the best possible answer to the foolish story that he intended writing his memoirs. His sense of professional etiquette and his sense of honour may both be judged in the light of these flaming documents. It had been necessary, of course, to preserve some of these papers for a time, on the chance of their being needed again. But think of the relief with which hundreds and hundreds of people heard of the burning! It is almost as if the tragedies of which all record was thus destroyed had never happened.[[1]]

[[1]] I have since asked Sir George himself about this conflagration story. He answered: "Yes, it is true, but there are things here"—touching his forehead—"which I can neither burn nor forget."

Sir George Lewis could coerce as well as coax. He could use threats, but never a threat he was not ready to fulfil. By and by his character came to be so well understood that a letter from Ely Place became almost a summons to surrender. But always on reasonable terms. With all that, he had a kindness of heart to which thousands of people can testify. I suppose no lawyer ever did so much for clients without fee or reward. If you were his friend, if you were of a profession, if you came to him with a letter from some friend, if you came to him in poverty with a case of oppression, he would take infinite pains for you and no fee. He had all sorts of out-of-the-way knowledge; copyright law, for one, on which he was an authority, and in which few solicitors are authorities. There is this link between copyright in books and in plays and theatrical contracts; the contract is commonly drawn by the publisher or manager, who is a man of business; and the author or actor, who is not, is expected to accept it. It was this solicitor's pleasure to redress that balance.