Forty years of 'Spy'

by Sir Leslie Ward

CHAPTER IX

THE LAW

The Inspiration of the Courts.—Montague Williams.—Lefroy.—The De Goncourt case.—Irving.—Sir Frank Lockwood.—Dr. Lampson, the poisoner.—Mr. Justice Hawkins.—The Tichborne case.—Mr. Justice Mellor and Mr. Justice Lush.—The Druce case.—The Countess of Ossington.—The Duke's portrait.—My models.—The Adventuress.—The insolent omnibus conductor.—I win my case.—Sir George Lewis.—The late Lord Grimthorpe.—Sir Charles Hall.—Lord Halsbury.—Sir Alfred Cripps (now Lord Parmoor).—Sir Herbert Cozens-Hardy.—Lord Robert Cecil.—The late Sir Albert de Rutzen.—Mr. Charles Gill.—Sir Charles Matthews.—Lord Alverstone.—Mr. Birrell.—Mr. Plowden.—Mr. Marshall Hall.—Mr. H. C. Biron.

"The reason of the Law is ... the law."—Sir Walter Scott.

The Law Courts held more possibilities for me than most "hunting grounds," because I invariably found my subject without the difficulty of "stalking" him, and with the advantage of wig and gown to add to the individuality and relieve the conventionality of his unprofessional habiliments. Another advantage lay in the fact that when a barrister or a judge was conducting a case or presiding on the bench, a host of peculiarities and idiosyncrasies became evident, and I had the satisfaction of observing all unnoticed. In some cases the very fact of being "on the spot" refreshed my memory, for on one occasion I forgot the features of a certain judge, and felt I must have another glimpse to recall them before I could revive my inspiration. Oddly enough, I recollected him perfectly the moment I set my foot upon the steps of the Law Courts, and, returning to my studio, I completed the drawing.

I found my friend Montague Williams (who perhaps defended more prisoners than any counsel of his day) an inestimable help when I wished to find an especial opportunity of watching any well-known criminal or legal character. Besides being a busy lawyer, he had a considerable personal knowledge of the men with whom, during the discharge of his duties, he had come in contact, and whom he regarded with more sympathy and kindness as to their possible reclamation than many men in his profession. He always found it necessary to believe fully in the innocence of the persons he was defending; and as he was naturally very excitable, he would work himself up to fever pitch, bringing tears to his own eyes as he described with pathos and righteous indignation the overwhelming injustice of the case against his client. His enthusiasm usually impressed the jury immensely. I recollect his saying once in an access of sentimental appeal: "Think, gentlemen—think of his poor mother!"

The Lefroy case was a curious and very unpleasant affair; probably my readers still remember the strange story of robbery and crime in a railway carriage, and the long and continually iterated innocence of the accused man whom my friend was defending. I went down (as I was curious to see the prisoner) to the Law Courts with Montague Williams one day. Lefroy's physiognomy was in itself almost enough to condemn him in my eyes—for his bad mouth, weak face, and chin that seemed to have altogether retreated, with the abnormal head with a very large back to it, all gave me an impression of latent criminalism. As I returned with my legal friend in the cab I ventured to say as much to him.

"Good Lord, man," he said. "Look at yourself in the glass ... if appearances went for anything you'd have been hanged long ago."

I had neglected to shave that morning, it is true; but in spite of my omission I felt a trifle overwhelmed by my friend's verdict, much as it amused me.

At the De Goncourt trial (one of my early recollections) I sat next to Irving. I was busily engaged in making a sketch of Benson, who had been brought into the witness box with his latest decoration of broad arrows, and I remember that Irving congratulated me upon my drawing. On another occasion I watched Frank Lockwood (as he was then) listening to a case as one of the general public, pencil in hand, ready to portray anything that struck him. The case before the court concerned an accident to a pedestrian (a Scotchman) who was summoning a carter or the company he represented, for damages. The carter accused the plaintiff of drunkenness on the occasion of the accident, when he alleged that the man was so drunk that he reeled up against the wheel of his cart. I was amused to see Mr. Lockwood make a quick sketch of a drunken highlander attired in a kilt reeling against a cart wheel, with a glimpse of the Strand in the background, and send it up to the judge.

In the case of Dr. Lampson, the poisoner, I passed notes to the prisoner who mistook me for Montague Williams' clerk. Williams had defended the man on a previous occasion, but this time the charge was a grave one, for the accused was said to have visited a young relative (who stood between him and a sum of money), and given him poisoned cake which set up such violent symptoms that suspicion rested upon the doctor. The death of the boy, following shortly after, led to the arrest of Dr. Lampson, who was tried and found guilty.