Month: July 2020

Barristers Successfully Challenge Exclusion from Side Passages of Court, 1848

In an era in which the courts, and not parliament, served as the primary venue for Irish political theatre, one significant side benefit of being a barrister was the opportunity of a ringside seat!

The Kilkenny Journal, 24 May 1848, contains a report of an interesting minor skirmish which occurred in the course of the trial for sedition of the Young Irelander Thomas Francis Meagher, transported to Van Diemen’s Land for life later that year:

“Mr French, High Sheriff… ordered the police to keep clear the side passages of the court, which on the most ordinary occasions – not to speak of one on which so much interest was excited, are crowded, or at least free to access…. These passages were closed against all admission from without.  A number of barristers, who were unable to procure seats in the places usually assigned to them, and rudely denied admission, deputed one of their body to represent the matter to the High Sheriff in the following note:

‘THE BAR TO THE SHERIFF

Members of the Bar anxious for admission to the side passages, wish the Sheriff to inform them why those places are exclusively reserved for tipstaffs and policemen.’

To this application Mr French wrote on the fold of the note the… not very dignified reply.

‘THE HIGH SHERIFF TO THE BAR

Because the Sheriff chooses.’

The gentleman of the Bar [then] wrote .. a respectful note to Chief Justice [Doherty] enclosing both notes – whereupon the learned Judge, with that courtesy which never forsakes him, forthwith directed Mr French to admit the members of the Bar into his preserved enclosures whether [he] choose it or no.”

The selfsame Mr French was a regular complainer about barristers at early solicitors’ meetings!

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Doing ‘Circuit’ in a Motor, 1907

From the Freeman’s Journal, 2 July 1907:

“The march of science received a new illustration at the Four Courts yesterday, when some half-dozen members of the Leinster Circuit started in a motor car from the Four Courts for Nenagh, at which town the Assizes open today. The car was a big one of the St Denis pattern, and this new way of going the rounds of the Leinster Circuit was the subject of a great deal of comment. Other members of the Bar spoke of the innovation with evident amusement. Some of the older barristers remarked on this move as recalling the old days when parties started on the circuit from the Four Courts in a smart “four in hand.” The private vehicle, although now a horseless one, has once again superseded the train in this respect. The starting of the party to ‘do circuit’ was an occasion of much interest and amused comment to the onlookers who witnessed their departure from the Four Courts, among whom were many well-known members of the Bar.”

The passionate impetuosity characteristic of the successful Edwardian advocate was not always conducive to steady control of wheeled vehicles. The older barristers mentioned above would no doubt have been familiar with the sad story of Walter Long BL, holder of a first-rate practice on the North-East Circuit, who died tragically in 1890 after having met with an accident whilst riding on a tricycle. Mr Long’s obituary described him as of genial disposition and even temper, and stated that, had he lived a few years longer, he would certainly have occupied a place in the foremost ranks of the profession.

Country roads, too, could be full of surprises, as another Irish barrister, Henry Lover, found out in 1873, when the horsecar taking him to a fishery enquiry at Tramore was involved in an unexpected collision with a van belonging to Batty’s Travelling Circus. Mr Lover was fortunate enough to escape with only a leg injury.

I hope this gallant band of Circuit travellers took their time and arrived safely in Nenagh!

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Three Legal Men and a Baby, 1832

From the Dublin Morning Register, 27 March 1832;

“On Friday last, an infant child was picked up by a girl of the town in one of the piazzas, at the Four Courts, where women of her character are nightly accustomed to resort. She… attempted to lodge it with the watchman on the station, by whom she was taken into custody… and was brought up before three magistrates yesterday morning. [A]n application [was] made to the Mendicity [Institution] to receive the child, but… fearing the consequences of opening their establishment as an asylum for foundlings, the managers refused it admission. The churchwardens of St Michan’s were next applied to, but they could not receive the child on the parish, as the example would be fatal…

The magistrates said the child was likely to be sacrificed between the two parties, as the girl who had so innocently got it into her charge, could scarcely be expected to keep it [unpaid]… they thought it came within the denomination of “street beggar” and should be received as such by the Mendicity… and in the mean time [left] in the care of the girl [with] a small sum of money to provide for its support.”

The ‘piazza’ in which the baby was found must have been one of the passages running from the central area of the Four Courts to the eastern and western wings, originally open on both sides.

Abandonment of unwanted infants was such a common occurrence that the London Inns of Court had to set up a foundling scheme to provide for ‘exposed children’ left within its precincts. Many of the Inns of Court foundlings (all of whom were given the name ‘Temple’) did not survive infancy; some, however, were reclaimed by mothers whose financial circumstances had subsequently improved.

There is no record of any baby ever having been deposited within the precincts of the Law Library itself, but one hopes that, had this occurred, the Benchers of King’s Inns, under whose control the Library was, would have shown similar charity to their colleagues in England!

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Solicitor Restrained from Breaking Through Judicial Procession Sues for Assault, 1898

From the Weekly Nation, 30 April 1898:

“Constable 141A was summoned [for assault] by Mr Alfred MacDermott, solicitor.

Mr McDermott said he was crossing under the covered passage at the coffee room door of the Four Courts [when he got] a blow across the chest from the defendant… he was seized from behind by the defendant by the collar and pushed up against a stone pillar and held there.  The next thing he heard was Judge Johnson saying “Let go that gentleman; he is a solicitor.”

Cross-examined: He was aware it was the custom of the judges to walk in procession on the first day of the term.  He had a stick with him.  He always carried a stick.  Have you got it today? No (laughter) You left it at home for this case.  The procession had not all passed, but there was no judge passing at the time he sought to pass. 

Evidence was given that the procession of judges had about half passed when Mr MacDermott, stick in hand, tried to force his way through them between the Lord Chancellor and Judge Johnson .. the constable told the people to keep back.  Mr Mac Dermott began to remonstrate, and said “How dare you, Sir!” Then he forced his way across… The constable caught him by the coat.  Mr MacDermott tried to pull away and they went up against the stone pillar.

[The magistrate] said in his opinion Mr MacDermott improperly attempted to force his way across the procession, and break the line of the procession.  The constable did no more than his duty, and the summons must be dismissed.   The result was received in court with applause.”

The coffee-room was situated in what is now the Law Library and the covered passage where all this occurred is today the Square Hall. The judges were proceeding to the Benchers’ Rooms which were in the vicinity of the current Barristers’ Tea Room.

Mr MacDermott had previously eloped to Gretna Green with Charles Stuart Parnell’s sixteen-year-old sister Sophy. The marriage was not popular with all members of the Parnell family. Parnell’s sister Emily liked to refer to Sophy and Alfred as ‘Beauty and the Beast.’

Still alive in 1898, Emily must have enjoyed reading about the incident above!

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Barrister Railway Fatalities, 1862-1921

From the Dublin Evening Telegraph, 11 January 1921:

“The sad news of the tragic death of Mr Henry Kennedy, a member of the Irish Bar, in Switzerland on Saturday night reached the Four Courts today.  It appears that while getting into a train about 11.30 p.m. at the frontier on his way home, he missed his footing and was killed on the spot.  The deceased gentleman was a son of the late Mr HP Kennedy, formerly Crown Solicitor for County Cavan, and brother of Mr Vincent Kennedy, ex MP… He joined the North West Circuit, and was afterwards Junior Crown Prosecutor for the County of Longford.  Mr Kennedy also joined the army in 1916, was on active service in Gallipoli and Egypt, and was subsequently discharged invalided.”

Some days later, an unnamed Irish barrister was also present on the Dublin to Derry Express when it ran into a huge landslide between Pomeroy and Donaghmore, ploughing into tons of earth so that it rocked like a ship on a stormy sea. Luckily, everyone survived and the barrister was home before curfew.

He was luckier than Mr H Thompson, barrister, of Dublin, originally from Belfast, who died in 1862 as a result of a derailment at Faversham, Kent, when three last carriages and the break-van separated from the preceding carriage and ran down an 15-foot-high embankment.

Just the stress of train travel could be fatal even if no accident in the strict sense of the word occurred. In 1867 William Henry Shegog, barrister, of 15 Mountjoy Square North, fell heavily on the platform at Amiens Street (now Connolly) Station immediately after stepping out of the train, and was carried to Jervis Street Hospital, where life was found to be extinct. He had been down the country collecting his rents.

English barristers had a much higher domestic railway fatality rate during this period, with tragic deaths recorded at King’s Cross (1880), Blisworth (1890), Herne Hill (1891), Taunton (1906), Euston (1911) and Retford (1912). Irish barristers, on the other hand, seemed to suffer particular ill-fate when travelling by railway abroad.

Mr Kennedy in particular was most unfortunate – it seems very bad luck to survive Gallipoli, only to die on a chilly Swiss platform. I wonder if, given the time of year that was in it, he was struggling with skis, or if his injuries during the War contributed to his loss of balance, or both? Perhaps he was tempted into travelling by a poster like the one above?

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