I was retained at Hertford Assizes, with Peter Ryland as my leader, to prosecute a man for perjury, which was alleged to have been committed in an action in which a cantankerous man, who had once filled the office of High Sheriff for the county, was the prosecutor.  Wealthy and disagreeable, he was nevertheless a henpecked tyrant.

Mrs. Brown, his wife, was a witness for the prosecution in the alleged perjury—­which was unfortunate for her husband, because she had the greatest knowledge of the circumstances surrounding the case; while Mr. Brown had the best knowledge of the probable quality of his wife’s evidence.

When we were in consultation and considering the nature of this evidence, and arranging the best mode of presenting our case to the jury, Brown interposed, and begged that Mr. Ryland should call Mrs. Brown as the last witness, instead of first, which was the proper course.  “Because,” said he, “if anything goes wrong during the trial or anything is wanting, Mrs. Brown will be quite ready to mop it all up.”

This in a prosecution for perjury was one of the boldest propositions I had ever heard.

I need not say that good Mrs. Brown was called, as she ought to have been, first.  The lady’s mop was not in requisition at that stage of the trial, and the jury decided against her.

I was sometimes in the Divorce Court, and old Jack Holker was generally my opponent.  He was called “Long Odds.”  In one particular case I won some eclat.  It is not related on that account, however, but simply in consequence of its remarkable incidents.  No case is interesting unless it is outside the ordinary stock-in-trade of the Law Courts, and I think this was.

The details are not worth telling, and I therefore pass them by.  Cresswell was the President, and the future President, Hannen, my junior.

We won a great victory through the remarkable over-confidence and indiscretion of Edwin James, Q.C., who opposed us.  James’s client was the husband of the deceased.  By her will the lady had left him the whole of her property, amounting to nearly L100,000.  The case we set up was that the wife had been improperly influenced by her husband in making it, and that her mind was coerced into doing what she did not intend to do, and so we sought to set aside the will on that ground.

Edwin James had proved a very strong case on behalf of the validity of the will.  He had called the attesting witnesses, and they, respectable gentlemen as they undoubtedly were, had proved all that was necessary—­namely, that the testator, notwithstanding that she was in a feeble condition and almost at the last stage, was perfectly calm and capable in mind and understanding—­exactly, in fact, as a testator ought to be who wills her property to her husband if he retains her affection.

The witnesses had been cross-examined by me, and nothing had been elicited that cast the least doubt upon their character or credibility.  Had the matter been left where it was, the L100,000 would have been secured.  But James, whatever may have been his brilliance, was wanting in tact.  He would not leave well alone, but resolved to call the Rev. Mr. Faker, a distinguished Dissenting minister.