Page images
PDF
EPUB

At the end of six years from his entering the army, when he had reached the rank of Lieutenant, the attention of Erskine was by mere accident directed to the bar. Being stationed, during the summer of 1774, in a country town where the Assizes were held, he rambled one day into court; and Lord Mansfield, who presided, having noticed his uniform, was led to inquire his name. Finding that it was the boy whom he had aided ten years before in going to sea, he invited him to a seat on the bench, briefly stating the principal points of the case, ani showing him other civilities which were peculiarly gratifying under such circumstances. Ekine listened with the liveliest interest. The counsel were considered skillful and eloquent; but it often occurred to him, in the course of the argument on both sides, how much more clearly and forcibly he could have presented certain points and urged them on the minds of the jury. "And why not be a lawyer?" was the thought which instantly forced itself on his mind. "Why not carry out the early aspirations of boyhood?" Any one of a less sanguine temperament would have felt the attempt to be hopeless, burdened as he was with a young and growing family, and wholly destitute of any means of subsistence except his commission, which must, of course, be relinquished if he entered on the study of the law. But Erskine's whole life was one of daring enterprise. The very difficulty of an undertaking seemed only to impel him forward with greater eagerness. Being invited to dinner by Lord Mansfield, who was delighted with his conversational powers, he brought out at the close of the evening the question which was already beating at his heart, "Is it impossible for me to become a lawyer?" Mansfield, who admired his talents and spirit, did not utterly discourage him, and this was enough for one of his sanguine temperament. He consulted his mother, who had the same habit of looking on the bright side of things, and who perfectly understood the force of his character, and found to his delight that she was almost as eager as he was to see him enter on the undertaking. He accordingly became a member of Lincoln's Inn, about the middle of 1775. His term of legal study might be materially abridged by his taking a degree at one of the universities, and to this he was entitled, as son of a nobleman, without passing an examination, if he kept his regular terms. He therefore became a member of Trinity College, Cambridge, early in 1776, paying no attention whatever to the studies of the place, and contriving, at the same time, to keep his terms at Lincoln's Inn. He still retained his office in the army as a means of support, having obtained leave of absence for six months, and at the end of this time sold out his commission and husbanded his resources to the utmost. He lived in a small village just out of London; and Reynolds, the comic writer, says, in his "Life and Times," The young student resided in small lodgings near my father's villa at Hampstead, and openly avowed that he lived on cow-beef, because he could not afford any of a superior quality; he dressed shabbily, and expressed the greatest gratitude to Mr. Harris for occasional free admissions to Covent Garden, and used boastingly to exclaim to my father, "Thank fortune, out of my own family, I don't know a Lord." In July, 1778, he was called to the bar, and according to all ordinary experience of the profession in London, he had reason to expect a delay of some years before his business would sup. port his family.

[ocr errors]

But the early life of Erskine was full of singular adventure. Not long after his call to the bar, he was dining with a friend, and happened to speak of a Captain Baillie, whose case at that time awakened great interest in the public mind. As Lieutenant Governor of Greenwich Hospital, Baillie had discovered enormous abuses in the management of the institution (which was used for political purposes), and had publicly charged them on Lord Sandwich, First Lord of the Admiralty. For this he was prosecuted on a charge of a libel, at the instance of Sandwich, who kept, however, behind the scr aes to avoid any opportunity of bringing him before the court

on the merits of the case. As the trial was soon to come on, Erskine remarked on this conduct at table with great severity, not knowing that Baillie was present as one of the guests. The captain was delighted with what he heard; and learning that his volunteer advocate was a young lawyer, as yet without business, who had himself been a sailor, declared to a friend that he should at least have one trief. Accordingly, Erskine's first retainer of a guinea was put into his hands the next day, and it never occurred to him but that he was the only counsel in the case. As the trial approached, however, he found there were four distinguished advocates before him, and he also found they had so little hope of success, that they advised Baillie, at a consultation, to pay the costs, and in this way escape trial, as the prosecutors had kindly proposed. Erskine alone dissented. "My advice, gentlemen," said he, "may savor more of my former profession than my present, but I am against consenting" "You are the man for me," said Baillie, hugging the young advocate in his arms; "I will never give up."

The case came on before Lord Mansfield in the afternoon of November 23d, 1778. The senior counsel of Baillie consumed the time till late in the evening, in showing cause why the rule should be dismissed; and no one expecting Erskine to come forward, the case was adjourned until the next day. The court was crowded in the morning, as the Solicitor General was expected to speak in support of the rule, and, just as Lord Mansfield was about to call upon him to proceed, Erskine rose, un known to nearly every individual in the room except his Lordship, and said, in a mild but firm tone, "My Lord, I am likewise counsel for the author of this sup posed libel, *** and when a British subject is brought before a court of justice only for having ventured to attack abuses which owe their continuance to the danger of attacking them, * * * I can not relinquish the privilege of doing justice to such merit, I will not give up even my share of the honor of repelling and exposing so odious a prosecution." The whole audience was hushed into a pin-fall silence, and he then went on to ask in regard to his client, "Who is he? What was his duty? What has he written? To whom has he written? and what motive induced him to write?" Taking these inquiries as the heads of his speech, he went on, in brief but eloquent terms, to show that Baillie, as Lieutenant Governor of the Hospital, was bound in duty to expose the abuses of the institution—that he had written nothing on the subject but what was undeniably true-that he had written it for the information of the Governors of the Hospital, who ought to be informed on such a subject and that his only motive in writing had been the protection of those who had lost their limbs and periled their lives in fighting the battles of their country. In closing, he turned from Captain Baillie to the First Lord of the Admiralty, “Indeed, Lord Sandwich," said he, "has in my mind-" [Mansfield here reminded him that Lord Sandwich was not before the court, when Erskine, borne away by his feelings, instantly broke forth]," I know he is not formally before the court, but for that very reason I will bring him before the court! He has placed these men [the prosecutors] in the front of the battle, in hopes to escape under their shelter; but I will not join in the battle with them; their vices, though screwed up to the highest pitch of human depravity, are not of dignity enough to vindicate the combat with me. I will drag him to light, who is the dark mover behind this scene of iniquity. I assert, that the Earl of Sandwich has but one road to escape out of this business without pollution and disgrace, and that is, by publicly disavowing the acts of the prosecutors, and restoring Captain Baillie to his command. If he does this, then his offens will be no more than the too common one of having suffered his own personal inter est to prevail over his public duty, in placing his voters in the hospital. But if, on the contrary, he continues to protect the prosecutors, in spite of the evidence of their guilt, which has excited the abhorrence of the numerous audience that crowd this

*

court; if he keeps this injured man suspended, or dares to turn that suspension into a removal, I shall then not scruple to declare him an accomplice in their guilt, a shameless oppressor, a disgrace to his rank, and a traitor to his trust." "FINE AND IMPRISONMENT! The man deserves a palace instead of a prison who prevents the palace, built by the public bounty of his country, from being converted into a dungeon, and who sacrifices his own security to the interests of humanity and virtue." Considering all the circumstances of the case, it is not surprising that Lord Campbell should pronounce this "the most wonderful forensic effort which we have in our annals." It is hardly necessary to say that the decision was for the defendant : the rule was dismissed with costs.

Never did a single case so completely make the fortune of any individual. Er skine entered Westminster Hall that morning not only in extreme poverty, but with no reasonable prospect of an adequate subsistence for years. He left it a rich man. He received thirty retainers from attorneys who were present, it is said, while retiring from the hall. Not only was his ambition gratified, but the comfort and independence of those whose happiness he had staked on his success as a lawyer were secured for life. Some one asked him, at a later period, how he dared to face Lord Mansfield so boldly on a point where he was clearly out of order, when he beautifully replied, "I thought of my children as plucking me by the robe, and saying, 'Now, father, is the time to get us bread.'' His business went on rapidly increas

ing, until he had an annual income of £12,000.

The next year he added to his reputation by a masterly defense of Admiral Keppel before a court-martial at Portsmouth. His experience in naval affairs recommended him for this service, and he performed it with unabated zeal for thirteen days, which were spent in examining witnesses and arguing points of order, after which he wrote out the speech which the Admiral read to the court. This was followed by a unanimous verdict of acquittal; and so strongly did Keppel feel the value of the young advocate's services, that he addressed him a note in token of his gratitude containing a present of a thousand pounds, adding, "I shall ever rejoice in this commencement of a friendship which I hope daily to improve." Erskine, with the boyish hilarity which always marked his character, hastened to the villa of the Reynoldses, and, displaying his bank-notes, exclaimed, “Voilà the non-suit of cow-beef, my good friends."

He came into the House five years after, in November, 1783, as a supporter of the Coalition ministry of Mr. Fox and Lord North. Nearly all the lawyers being on the other side, great reliance was placed on his services by the friends of the new government. But they were sorely disappointed. His habits were not suited to parliamentary debate. His understanding was eminently a legal one; he wanted the stimulus and encouragement of a listening court and jury; and was embarrassed by the presence of sneering opponents ready to treat him with personal indignity. His vanity now turned to his disadvantage, and put him in the power of his antagonists. When he commenced his maiden speech, says Mr. Croly, in his Life of George IV., "Mr. Pitt, evidently intending to reply, sat with pen and paper in his hand, prepared to catch the arguments of his formidable adversary. He wrote a word or two. Er. skine proceeded; but, with every additional sentence, Pitt's attention to the paper relaxed, his look became more careless, and he obviously began to think the orator less and less worthy of his attention. At length, while every eye in the House was fixed upon him, with a contemptuous smile he dashed the pen through the paper, and flung them on the floor. Erskine never recovered from this expression of disdain; his voice faltered, he struggled through the remainder of his speech, and sank into his seat dispirited and shorn of his fame." Sheridan remarked to him at a later period, "I'll tell you how it happens, Erskine; you are afraid of Pitt and that is the

Aabby part of your character." There was too much truth in the remark Erskine could bear any thing but contempt. He recovered himself, however, at a later period of life, and made quite a number of very able and eloquent speeches; in fact, he would have stood high as a parliamentary orator, if he had not so completely outshone himself by the brilliancy of his efforts in Westminster Hall.

"As an advocate in the forum," says Lord Campbell, "I hold him to be without an equal in ancient or modern times." What is rare in one of so brilliant a genius, he had no less power with the court than with the jury. It was remarked of him, as of Scarlett, that "he had invented a machine by the secret use of which, in court, he could make the head of a judge nod assent to his propositions; whereas his riv als, who tried to pirate it, always made the same head move from side to side." He was certainly not a profound lawyer, as the result of original investigation; his short period of study rendered this impossible. But he had the power of availing himself more completely than almost any man that ever lived, of the knowledge collected for his use by others. His speech on the Rights of Juries, in the case of the Dean of St. Asaph, is universally admitted to show "a depth of learning which would have done honor to Selden or Hale;" and so completely had he thrown his mind into the case, and made himself master of what black-letter lawyers spent months in searching out as the materials of his brief, that he poured forth all this learning, in his argument before the court, with the freshness and precision of one who had spent his life in such researches. He always, indeed, grasped a cause so firmly, that he never forgot a principle or a decision, an analogy or a fact which made for his client, while he showed infinite dexterity in avoiding the difficulties of his case, and turn ing to his own advantage the unexpected disclosures which sometimes come out in the progress of a trial. Nothing could be more incorrect than the idea of some, that Erskine owed his success chiefly to the warmth and brilliancy of his genius. The dryest special pleader never managed a cause with greater caution. Even in his Indian Chief, in the case of Stockdale (p. 696), a passage which verges more toward poetry than any thing in our eloquence, he was still, as a writer in the Edinburgh Review remarks, “feeling his way every step he took." His boldness was equal to his caution. In his defense of the liberty of the press, and of the rights of the subject when assailed by the doctrine of constructive treason, he had some of the sevenest conflicts with the court which any advocate was ever called to maintain. When the jury, in the case of the Dean of St. Asaph, brought in their verdict, "Guilty of publishing only," which would have the effect of clearing the defendant, Justice Buller, who presided, acting on the principle then held by the court, considered it beyond their province to make this addition, and determined they should withdraw it. Erskine, on the other hand, seized upon the word the moment it was uttered, and demanded to have it recorded. After some sparring between him and the court, he put the question to the foreman, "Is the word only to stand as a part of the verdict?" Certainly," was the reply. "Then I insist it shall be recorded," says Erskine. "The verdict," says Buller, "must be misunderstood: let me understand the jury." The jury," replied Erskine, "do understand their verdict." Buller. "Sir, I will. not be interrupted." Erskine. "I stand here as an advocate for a brother citizen, and I desire the word only may be recorded." Buller. "SIT DOWN, sir. REMEM BER YOUR DUTY, OR I SHALL BE OBLIGED TO PROCEED IN ANOTHER MANNER.' Erskine. "YOUR LORDSHIP MAY PROCEED IN WHAT MANNER YOU THINK FIT; I KNOW MY DUTY AS WELL AS YOUR LORDSHIP KNOWS YOURS. I SHALL NOT ALTER MY CONDUCT." The spirit of the judge sunk before the firmness of the advocate; no attempt was made to carry the threat into execution.

[ocr errors]

66

It was this mixture of boldness and caution, it was the keen sagacity and severe Logic of Erskine, which laid the foundation of his unrivaled power over a jury. It

was owing to these qualities that, when he threw into his argument all the strengta of his ardent feelings, and all that beauty and richness of illustration which his glow ing fancy supplied, no one ever suspected him of wishing to play upon their passions; the appeal was still so entirely to their intellect, that the jury gave him their sympathies without hesitation or reserve. And if he seemed to digress for a moment from the line of his reasoning, as he sometimes did for the sake of relieving the minds of his auditors, he still showed the same sagacity in turning even this to the further ance of his argument, for he always brought back with him from these excursions some weighty truth which he had gathered by the way, and which served to give a new and startling force to the urgency of his appeal. To these qualities he added. a good-humored cheerfulness in the most difficult cases, which put him on the best terms with the court and jury. They wished him to succeed, even when they had made up their minds that he must fail. It is easy to see the advantage he thus gained. Sometimes, under his inanagement, the worst cause seemed wholly to change its aspect; as in the case of Hadfield (given below), in which Kenyon, who presided, showed himself at first to be strongly prejudiced against the prisoner, but had his views so entirely changed that, at the close of Erskine's argument, he took the extraordinary step of recommending to the Attorney General not to proceed in the case, but to allow an immediate acquittal. Only one trait more will be added to his character as an advocate. He was uniformly kind to the younger members of the profession. He was the last man on earth to injure or depress a rival. When Sir James Mackintosh made his celebrated defense in the case of Peltier-a case which he might naturally expect, from his superior age and devotion to a free press, would have been committed to his care-he showed no mean jealousy; he attended the trial, and, before retiring to bed that night, addressed a note to the young advocate expressing his warmest admiration of the defense, as one of the most splendid monuments of genius, learning, and eloquence."

Nine of Mr. Erskine's ablest arguments are given in this collection. It is unnecessary here to dwell upon their merits or the circumstances out of which they sprung : these are detailed at large in the Introductions which precede the speeches. The writer would only urge upon the general student in oratory not to pass over, as belonging exclusively to the lawyer, the four great arguments of Erskine in the cases of Lord George Gordon, of the Dean of St. Asaph, of Hardy, and of Hadfield. The technical terms are briefly explained in notes, so that no embarrassment need arise from this cause. As specimens of acute and powerful reasoning, enlivened occasionally by glowing eloquence, they are among the finest efforts of genius in our language. Nothing can be more useful to our young orators of any profession, than to make themselves perfectly acquainted with these admirable specimens of reasoning, whatever toil it may cost them. Such productions, as Johnson said of a similar class of writings, 66 are bark and steel to the mind."

Mr. Erskine, as already mentioned, came into Parliament in 1783, as the friend and supporter of Mr. Fox. He adhered to him in all his reverses, and at last shared in his success. When Lord Grenville and Mr. Fox came into power in 1806, Erskine was appointed Lord Chancellor, thus verifying a prediction which he made twenty-seven years before, just after he was called to the bar, and which (for he was inclined to be superstitious) he probably ascribed to some supernatural agency. "Willie," said he to his friend William Adam, after a long silence, as they were rid ing together over a blasted heath between Lewes and Guilford, in 1779, " Willie, the time will come when I shall be Lord Chancellor, and the Star of the Thistle shall blaze on my bosom!" His dream was now accomplished. But the office of Lord Chancellor was one to which he was very little suited. All his practice had lain in . another direction he was wholly unacquainted with the laws of property, so essen

« PreviousContinue »