“A. L.” and the prisoner were perhaps the only two men who at the moment were clear and contented that the right thing had been done.
But it was in the County Courts that one learned one’s first lessons, and as more and more those courts are becoming the elementary schools of advocacy it becomes increasingly important that the judges who preside should have had some sound experience in the business themselves. We youngsters in Manchester were greatly to be congratulated on the presence of Judge Russell, the learned author
of a well-known treatise on Mercantile Law, who presided in the Manchester County Court. Russell sifted out his advocates very rapidly. At first when you knew little or nothing about it he did the case more or less for you. If he found you had any initiative capacity at all he allowed you to flutter your wings on your own. But if you tried to soar to absurd heights he non-suited you on the wing, as it were, to prevent more serious accidents in the course of your aviation; indeed, he was if anything too fond of the non-suit, regarding it as a very present help in time of trouble. But though somewhat strict in technical matters, he was a good lawyer and a useful judge for a junior to practise before. If you could do your work to his satisfaction you need not fear making your bow in the High Court. He was an autocrat, but his autocracy was beneficial to business and justice. Anything like trickiness or ill-faith was abhorrent to him. On one occasion a very learned but rather artful counsel read a correspondence to him and omitted a damaging letter, hoping, no doubt, to deal with it later on. When the letter came out Russell looked very black.
“Is that letter in your bundle of correspondence, Mr. X.?” he asked.
“Yes, your Honour—and I was going——”
“Were going——” repeated Russell sarcastically. “Judgment for defendant.”
It is wonderful how easily a good or bad reputation is made, and how careful the young advocate should be to keep his shield unspotted. I remember
having a very bad class of insurance claim which was tried before Lord Coleridge. Some Blackburn people had insured an old gentleman, described as an egg merchant, who died very shortly afterwards. It appeared that the deceased’s employment in recent years had been leaning against the door of a public-house and falling in when it opened. He had not merchanted any eggs since 1862. These things and the rascality of the whole proceeding, which was little short of a conspiracy to defraud, became so apparent as the case went on that at last I said I could not believe in the truth of my evidence, and refusing to call any more witnesses told Lord Coleridge my reasons, and retired from the case.
Lord Coleridge smiled somewhat sarcastically, as I thought, saying, “A very candid expression of opinion about your clients, Mr. Parry, and I have no doubt the jury will agree with you.”
A few weeks later I was supporting a counterclaim in a weary, complicated case at Liverpool, the last in the list before Coleridge, without a jury. I felt sure that if he would adjourn to the next day I could make him see there was something in it. Addison, who was for the other side, ridiculed it, and I quite thought Coleridge would cut it short and run up to town. About 6 o’clock, however, Coleridge said, “I haven’t the least idea what Mr. Parry’s counterclaim is about, and you think it is all nonsense, Mr. Addison; but I am sure he believes in it, and, as I know he wouldn’t continue a case unnecessarily, I shall adjourn.” We had the best