The chief judges were, however, generally accomplished men, of first-rate talent as lawyers; and the chancellors, with few exceptions, had been learned, able, and dignified; qualities, which Lord Lifford was the last to unite in an eminent degree.
On the subject of judges, I cannot omit a few anecdotes of a very different description from the foregoing, totally extra-judicial, which occurred in my own time.
Baron Power was considered an excellent lawyer, and was altogether one of the most curious characters I have met in the profession.—He was a morose, fat fellow, affecting to be genteel: he was very learned, very rich, and very ostentatious. Unfortunately for himself, Baron Power held the lucrative office of usher of the Court of Chancery, which was principally remunerated by fees on monies lodged in that court. Lord Clare (then chancellor) hated and teazed him, because Power was arrogant himself, and never would succumb to the arrogance of Fitzgibbon, to whom in law he was superior. The chancellor had a certain control over the usher; at least he had a sort of license for abusing him by inuendo, as an officer of the court, and most unremittingly did he exercise that license. Baron Power had a large private fortune, and always acted in office strictly according to the custom of his predecessors; but was attacked so virulently and pertinaciously by Lord Clare, that having no redress, it made a deep impression, first on his pride, then on his mind, and at length on his intellect. Lord Clare followed up his blow, as was common with him: he made daily attacks on the baron, who chose rather to break than bend; and who, unable longer to stand this persecution, determined on a prank of all others the most agreeable to his adversary!—The baron walked quietly down early one fine morning to the south wall, which runs into the sea, about two miles from Dublin; there he very deliberately filled his coat-pockets with pebbles; and having accomplished that business, as deliberately walked into the ocean, which received him cordially, but did not retain him long, his body being thrown ashore with great contempt by the very next tide. His estates devolved upon his nephews, two of the most respectable men of their country; and the lord chancellor enjoyed the double gratification of destroying a baron, and recommending a more submissive usher in his place; and when all parties were out of mourning, got his own son, the Honourable Hubert Fitzgibbon (a very nice child at that time), into the patent. They might have blamed Lord Clare for drowning the baron; but there is no law human or divine which forbids a man from providing for his own offspring when he has the opportunity. So, as such or such an office must exist, if the business is duly performed, it is nothing to the nation who executes it.
Had the matter ended thus, it might not have been so very remarkable; but the precedent was too respectable and inviting not to be followed by persons who had any particular reasons for desiring strangulation; as a judge drowning himself gave the thing a sort of dignified legal éclat! It so happened, that a Mr. Crosby Morgal, then an attorney residing in Dublin, (of large dimensions, and with shin bones curved like the segment of a rainbow,) had, for good and sufficient reasons, long appeared rather dissatisfied with himself and other people. But as attorneys were considered much more likely to induce their neighbours to cut their throats than to execute that office upon themselves, nobody ever suspected Morgal of any intention to shorten his days in a voluntary manner.
However, it appeared that the signal success of Baron Power had excited in the attorney a great ambition to get rid of his sensibilities by a similar exploit.—In compliance with such his impression, he adopted the very same preliminaries as the baron had done; walked off by the very same road, to the very same spot; and, having had the advantage of knowing, from the coroner’s inquest, that the baron had put pebbles into his pocket with good effect, adopted likewise this judicial precedent, and committed himself in due form into the hands of Father Neptune, who took equal care of him as he had done of the baron; and, after having suffocated him so completely as to defy the exertions of the Humane Society, sent his body floating ashore, to the full as bloated and buoyant as Baron Power’s had been. This gentleman was father to a lady of fortune and some rank, still living, and whose first husband met a much more disagreeable finale, being shot against his will by his brother candidate at an election. She has herself, however, been singularly fortunate throughout life.
As a sequel to this little anecdote of Crosby Morgal, it is worth observing, that, though I do not recollect any of the attorneys immediately following his example, four or five of his clients very shortly after started from this world of their own accord, to try, as people then said, if they could any way overtake Crosby, who had left them no conveniences for staying long behind him.[[80]]
[80]. The Irish attorneys had, I believe, then pretty much the same reputation and popularity enjoyed by their tribe throughout the United Kingdom. They have now, in each country, wisely changed their designation into that of solicitors. I recollect one anecdote, which will, I think, apply pretty well to the major part of that celebrated profession. Some years ago, a suitor in the Court of Exchequer complained in person to the chief baron, that he was quite ruinated, and could go on no further! “Then,” said Lord Yelverton, “you had better leave the matter to be decided by reference.”—“To be sure I will, my lord,” said the plaintiff: “I’ve been now at law thirteen years, and can’t get on at all! I’m willing, please your lordship, to leave it all either to one honest man or two attorneys, whichever your lordship pleases.”—“You had better toss up, head or harp, for that,” said Lord Yelverton, laughing. Two attorneys were however appointed, and, in less than a year, reported that “they could not agree:” both parties then declared, they would leave the matter to a very honest farmer, a neighbour of theirs. They did so, and, in about a week, came hand-in-hand to the court, thanked his lordship, and told him their neighbour had settled the whole affair square and straight to their entire satisfaction! Lord Yelverton used to tell the anecdote with great glee.
Mr. William Johnson (the present Judge Johnson) was one of my brother barristers whose smiles were not always agreeable to me when we went circuits together. I liked his frowns extremely, because they were very sincere, extremely picturesque, and never niggardly. But as to smiles, my own had the trouble of mounting up from my heart; he, more wise, had an assortment ready prepared for the use of his policy: in this particular, therefore, we were not matched.