A JUDGE’S MEMORIES

Evening Star, Issue 21308, 12 January 1933, Page 4

A JUDGE’S MEMORIES

SHOT iH COURT GLADSTONE'S FRIEND DISRAELI Humour is such a redeeming feature of the law—cynics have said, the only redeeming feature—that a judge with a wholesome zest for it may indeed be regarded as thrice blest. That zest has always characterised Sir Edward Parry ; it did not desert hi in even when he was shot at in court and seriously injured (writes Trevor Allen, in ‘John o’ London’s Weekly’). When he was sitting in the Manchester County Court he was compelled to withdraw the certificate of a bailiff against whom complaints had been made. As he concluded his judgment, “a barrister to my right in the court rose to make an application. I turned my head to ask him to wait a moment. This movement probably saved my life. For a terrific explosion took place near the left of my face and my had fell with a bump on the table. I was under the impression it was a dynamite bomb. Then there was a second explosion which caused mo intense pain. I knew then someone was firing at me. The first bullet, which would have smashed my face bad I not turned my head, only ran along the side of my jaw, tearing the muscles; the second entered at the back of my ear and lives with me still. But the third, which seemed to give me even greater pain, never hit me at all. I expect I tried to drag my head away. By that time Henry Thomason, one of our clerks, had bravely tackled my assailant, who was the man I had deprived of his certificate, and as they fell together the man fired again, and the bullet went into the plaster of the opposite wall and then out into the court.” LISTENING AND HEARING. But the gift of laughter was not long in overtaking even a terrifying experience such as this. Sir Edward found he was stone-deaf in one ear, whereupon George Wright, the surgeon attending him, said consolingly:— “Don’t worry about it, judge; it’s only the left ear, and in the Manchester Court that’s the defendant’s side, and you never listen to him, you know.” “ That may be.” said Sir Edward, “ but there is all the difference between not listening and not hearing when you do listen.” .That experience, says Sir Edward, made him sympathetic towards anyone who pleaded neurasthenia, for even today he cannot sit still if anyone opens a sodawater bottle behind him, and he is distinctly gun-shy. A medical friend who gave evidence for insurance companies was subsequently discussing with him the problem of neurasthenia in relation to malingering, and with the professional contempt for the amateur ho said: ‘I really believe you think you could teach me something about a subject which has been my life study.’ “ ‘ I could teach you all about it,’ I replied, with equal assurance. ‘‘ ‘ And how would you set about it, pray? ’ “ ‘ I should empty a revolver into the back of your head when you were not expecting it. If you got well again, you would know all there is to be known about neurasthenia.” ’ CONVERSION AND CONVERSATION. Sir Edward’s concern with religion, as a young man,. was not without its humours. A fellow marshal, Lister Drummond, would discuss Roman Catholicism with him into the small hours. One night Mr Justice Mathew, who occupied an adjoining room, knocked furiously on the wall, and in the morning he asked: — “ ‘ Whose bedroom is next to mine? ’ “ ‘ I believe mine is, judge,’ I said, with hesitancy. “ 1 H’m! Then who on earth was talking to you until 2 in the morning? ’ ‘ Well, you see,’ I replied, more cheerfully, seeing a mischievous retreat. ‘lt was Drummond, but I’m sure you will approve of it when I tell you that he wants to convert me to the Holy Faith! ’ ‘Does he?’ road Mathew, bang• ing his fist on the table and glaring at Drummond. ‘ Then you may take it straight from me, Drummond, that if you continue to convert Parry in the small hours of the morning, I leave the church.” ’ In politics Sir Edward was also the pilgrim of many a smile. When Liberal supporter of Mr C. D. Hodgson in Buckinghamshire he encountered a countryman who assured him he was voting for Hodgson because he was Gladstone’s man:

“ ‘ We know a bit about them politics down, here,’ he continued, in a monotonous sing-song. ‘ You see, Disraeli he lived down Hughenden way. They made him Lord Beaconsfield, and he’s buried over yon. We was very proud of him, we was.’ I began to think there was a blunder somewhere, and said: ‘ But Hodgson is Gladstone’s man, you know.’ “ ‘ All right, I understand, I .nderstand,’ he said, rather testily. ‘ I told you we know all about them things here. When Disraeli was alive, why, him and Gladstone lived like brothers, didn’t they? And I say, now one’s dead vote for t’other.’ *’ WHAT THE OLD WOMAN SAID. Charley M'Keand, “ that delightful advocate,” once rushed into court to defend an old woman indicted for larceny without having had time to study the depositions, but was soon in the middle of an eloquent harangue: “ And what, gentlemen, did the poor woman say when the magistrate’s clerk asked her for her defence? I will read you her very words, and I think you will agree with me that they bear the stamp of conscious innocence.” . . . M'Keand seized the papers and turned them rapidly over. “ Let me read you her exact words. Ha! here we are. Oh! Hm!’’ He faltered a little when lie saw them. “Well, gentlemen, this uneducated woman does not put it as you or I would put it, but I said I would read her words, and I will. What she says is: ‘ How the hell could I have the boots when he was wearing them?’ And, gentlemen,” continued M'Keand in a concluding burst of eloquence, “ I ask you, with some confidence. how the hell could she?” Sir Edward once rebuked a man for backing up his wife’s absurd story. “ You should be more careful,” he said, “ and I tell you candidly I don’t believe a word of your wife’s story.” “ Yer may do as yer like,” said the man mournfully, “ I’.ve got to.” SHOWING RESPECT. One of Sir Edward’s minor functions was trying to persuade widows not to decimate their scant funds by buying expensive tombstones. He recommended one widow to discuss the matter again in about twelve months. When she returned after that period he said : “‘I do hope, Mrs X, you have thought over all I said to you last time about the tombstone.’ She looked down on the ground, fnd 1 feared we were going to have tear,!. “‘ I think there are many better ways of showing respect,’ I ventured. “‘Yes, sir,’ she began, falteringly; ‘ so do I, sir.’, “ ‘ I’m very glad,’ I said heartily, “ ‘So am I,’ she said, blushing. ‘You see, I’m going to be married again.’ ”