From ‘Anecdotes and Reminiscences’ of the Connaught Bar,’ an article by Mr George Orme O’Malley QC, published in the Western People of 11 November 1897:

“It is incredible what a passion the Irish bar, though in general excellent temperate fellows, had for fighting each other and being quickly and easily reconciled. A duel was, as in Germany, considered a necessary part of a young man’s education, but by no means a ground for future animosity.

The practice of duelling was in its decline just previous to the year 1850, when it may be said to have died out principally in consequence of the narrow escapes of some of the survivors from being hung for murder. ..

While the law was somewhat doubtful as to the punishment awaiting the survivor, high official personages in Ireland still continued to have recourse to duels when anger or resentment or real or fancied insult blinded to their judgment.

Many are still alive who witnessed that sensational episode in the trial of O’Connell… when the then Irish Attorney General, Mr. Cusack Smith, afterwards Master of the Rolls, incensed at the sarcasms of his bitter opponent, Mr. Gerald Fitzgibbon, QC, threw a challenge in a hastily worded letter across the QCs’ table, Mr. Fitzgibbon opened and read it and after a moment’s calm deliberation, read it for the court. The Attorney General, still boiling with indignation, was nevertheless obliged at the instance of his cooler colleagues to withdraw the offensive, and no more was heard of the matter.

An intimate friend of mine, to my own knowledge, figured in four of these events between the years 1845 and 1850. In one of these a celebrated and successful barrister named French was the friend of the litigant and assaulted his opponent within the precincts of the Four Courts when retiring from the Judges Chamber, and notwithstanding that an attachment had issued against the aggressor for contempt of court, the gentleman who was assaulted waved that summary remedy and sent a message to his assailant instead. My informant, who possessed a plausible and persuasive power, contrived a friendly instead of a hostile meeting between the belligerents, and after much persuasion induced them to accept an invitation to dinner, and there and then affected a reconciliation which led to a permanent friendship.

The next interesting event with which, to my knowledge, my friend figured, was on circuit. When the celebrated Judge Keogh was a leading member of the Connaught Bar, an action was brought by a local schoolmaster against his landlord for an illegal distress on his residence in the Assize town. The plaintiff was represented on trial by barrister named Casserly, then known in college and elsewhere for his pugilistic capabilities. The night before the trial, a consultation was held at the residence of the schoolmaster between the attorney, the counsel and the client until a late hour, where their nerves were strengthened and their intellects enervated by free interpretations of whiskey punch, these events having come to the knowledge of the bar, and amongst the rest, of Mr. Keogh, who with an inexperienced junior was counsel for the defendant.

The former took advantage of the appearance on the table of a servant maid of the plaintiff, who was produced to depose to the circumstances connected with the alleged illegal distress, and she, on a searching cross examination, admitted that on the night of the consultation she had supplied the learned gentlemen with frequent supplies of hot water and copious quantities of John Jameson until an early hour in the morning.

When addressing the jury, Mr. Keogh, with that caustic and vigorous style for which he was remarkable, denounced this drunken mode of legal consultation, and depicted the members of it, and especially Casserly, in the most scathing terms. Immediately after the trial was over, that gentleman swore an oath of vengeance against his colleague and sent written challenges by his friend, the attorney in the cause, requiring him to meet in the next morning.

Mr. Keogh talked to his junior, who had some experience in matters of this kind, and they determined on submitting the quarrel to the judgment of the bar, and accordingly three kindred spirits were summoned to meet in the bar room, the members being then engaged in court. These three met in the bar room to decide this important question. The senior was moved to the chair and each of the others moved and seconded the following resolution.

“At a meeting of the Connaught Bar duly summoned and assembled. Brother Atkinson as the Chair moved by Brother Rutledge, seconded by Brother Walton it  was unanimously resolved that the observations this day made in the case of O’Brien against O’Keefe my brother did not exceed the privileges of an advocate, and accordingly that our brother Keogh not be permitted to accept the challenge of Casserly.”

This resolution having been communicated to Brother Casserly, he was heard to swear in the language of the day that the first time he met him he would break every bone in his brother Keogh’s body. This fratricidal threat having reached Keogh’s ears, he appealed to his stalwart junior to defend him from assault, which the latter willingly undertook to do shortly afterwards. The two emerged from the courthouse as they saw Casserly and in his attorney crossing the green, a wide public space in front, and Keogh under the wing of his rash young friend marched boldly forward to give him the opportunity, as he said, and have it over. But strange to say, the two victims of his denunciations passed by with only scornful looks. Before they were out of hearing, Keogh sneeringly remarked ‘I knew he had no courage, the low poltroon.‘

 Another event, more ludicrous than dramatic, took place between Serjeant Armstrong and Francis McDonough, QC, in the presence of the full court. Both these learned counsels contested viciously the borough of Sligo, Armstrong having been defeated by McDonough’s more wily attack, and he retained a better recollection of his defeat, which he displayed whenever they were opposed to each other in court, as they frequently were.

On one occasion the Serjeant was unusually bitter, and McDonough, who originally came from the fighting realm beyond the Shannon, to wit, the Kingdom of Connaught, retorting bitterly. The battle became war, until at last McDonough invited his opponent to come outside and dare to repeat the language he had just used. As this challenge did not seem to have been accepted, McDonough turned triumphantly to a witty QC, since the Chief Justice and now a law Lord who also hailed from Connaught and remarked, ‘I think that is the way for us Connaught gentlemen to deal with such fellows.’ ‘Yes,’ said the humorous QC, in tones heard by the advancing outer bar. ‘That’s the way to talk to him.’”