<h3> CHAPTER XXXII <br/><br/> SIR GEORGE LEWIS—KING'S SOLICITOR AND FRIEND<br/> A SOCIAL FORCE<br/> </h3>
<p>Lord Russel said of him:</p>
<p>"What is most remarkable in Lewis is not
his knowledge of the law, which is very great, nor
his skill in the conduct of difficult causes, in which
he is unrivalled, nor his tact, nor his genius for
compromise. It is his courage."</p>
<p>That was said not long after the Parnell trial,
in which Lord Russell—then Sir Charles Russell
and afterwards Lord Chief Justice of England—who
had long been at the head of the English
Bar of his own time, proved himself the equal of
any advocate of any time. Yet he must divide
the honours of that trial with Sir George Lewis.
The profession, or the two professions of barrister
and solicitor, divided them if the public did not.
The public has almost never the means of judging.
The work of preparing a great cause is carried on
in the solicitor's office. The barrister takes it up
ready made and the way in which he handles his
material is seen of all men. But no barrister
badly briefed could make much of a complicated
case. In no trial was this truer than in the Parnell
trial. Parnell was perhaps the greatest political
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P302"></SPAN>302}</span>
leader of his time, and the least scrupulous. He
had a black record, and the men behind him a
blacker. Not even Sir George Lewis could wash it
all white, but without him the judgment would
have gone far more heavily against the Irish
dictator. And if ever there was a case in which
Lord Russell's eulogy on Sir George Lewis was
to the point it was the Parnell case. It needed all
his courage in handling facts to save his client
from a condemnation which would have carried
with it his banishment from public life.
Mr. Gladstone marked his sense of the service done
by making Mr. George Lewis Sir George Lewis.
The knighthood some years later became a baronetcy,
the late King, I believe, suggesting it.</p>
<p>For the late King, while Prince of Wales, had
stood to the great solicitor in the relation of client,
and this business connection had become one of
friendship. They were much together at Homburg,
where both spent three or four weeks each
year for many years. Homburg is a place where
the houses are of glass and everything is known.
The Prince gave his dinners at Ritter's or at the
Kursaal in the open air. If he went afterward to
play whist—for these were ante-bridge days—at
Mr. Lewis's rooms, that was known. Nor is
publicity, so far as Prince and King are concerned,
much less in England, and when Mr. Lewis dined
at Marlborough House, or was present at a levee
at St. James's Palace, or was a guest at Sandringham,
all these things were of common knowledge.
And since the English are a very loyal people, who
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P303"></SPAN>303}</span>
had a strong personal attachment to their late
King, the confidence and liking the King showed
him won for Sir George the confidence and liking
of others.</p>
<p>This great and eventful career has lasted more
than fifty years, and with the end of 1909 Sir
George Lewis, being seventy-six years old, retired
from business, leaving his son, Mr. George Lewis,
and his other partner, Mr. Reginald Poole, both for
many years his associates, to be his successors.
Both are widely known as learned and skilful in
the law; both have been trained in Sir George's
methods; and the new firm is still, like the old,
known as Lewis & Lewis, and they are still of Ely
Place, Holborn.</p>
<p>It is characteristic of old days and ways in
London that Sir George Lewis was born in one of the
three houses now occupied by the firm. His
father was a solicitor before him; a man of repute
and ability, yet none the less is this vast business
the creation of the son. There are in London many
firms of solicitors known the world over; the
Messrs. Freshfield, for example, solicitors to the Bank of
England. But there is seldom or never a fame
due to one man. It is due to combined action, to
organization, to concentration upon one kind of
business. The firm of Lewis & Lewis knew no
limitations. The public thought of Sir George
Lewis as the man to whom the conduct of great
causes was habitually entrusted; sometimes criminal,
sometimes social, often divorce cases, often
those causes in which the honour of a great name
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P304"></SPAN>304}</span>
or a great family is involved. True, but the
business of Messrs. Lewis & Lewis was first of all
a great commercial business. Sir George's
permanent clients were among the city firms famous
in finance, or in banking or in industry. That
was the backbone of the business and continues
to be.</p>
<p>The first case in which Mr. Lewis made himself
known to the public arose out of the failure of
Overend, Gurney & Co., then one of the leading
houses in the City of London. He fought that
case single-handed against barristers of renown;
a bold thing for a solicitor to do, and perhaps
without precedent. He did the same thing in the
Bravo murder case, and held his own, and more
than his own, against Attorney-General and
Solicitor-General. No doubt, had he chosen, he
might have gone to the Bar and become distinguished
at the Bar, but not so had he chosen to
model his life. He never could have played the
part he has, had he done that. For the dividing
line between solicitor and barrister in England is
just as clearly drawn as ever. You may be one
or the other; you cannot be both; you may pass
from one to the other, but you must elect between
the two.</p>
<p>I ask myself sometimes what London society
would be to-day had there been no Sir George
Lewis. It certainly would not be what it is.
There have been many, many <i>causes célèbres</i> in
which his name has figured in open court, or in
the still more open newspapers. But they are as
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P305"></SPAN>305}</span>
one to a hundred of those which have never been
tried, and never supplied material for legal
proceedings or for printed scandal. The simple truth
is that Sir George Lewis, though the most successful
of solicitors in contested causes, has made
fame and fortune by keeping cases out of court
and out of print. He carried the art of compromise
to its highest point. He saw that alike in
the interests of his clients and of the public, and
in his own interest also, the greatest service he
could do was to prevent litigation. On that he
has acted consistently for fifty years.</p>
<p>Of how many lawyers can anything like that
be said? Sir George Lewis stands alone. The
money results of his policy are splendid. His
renown is splendid. But the misery he has soothed
and the social disruptions and disturbances and
far-reaching disasters he has prevented are a
tribute more splendid still. And perhaps never has
the value of his advice been so evident as when it
has been rejected.</p>
<p>In the matter which shook London society
perhaps more than any other of recent years, Sir
George Lewis on one side, and a brilliant young
solicitor, Mr. Charles Russell, son of the late Lord
Chief Justice, on the other, had come to an agreement.
The instrument they had drawn jointly
was ready for signature. So quietly had all this
distressing business been transacted that, had the
instrument been signed then and there, the world
would never have heard there had been a disagreement
till it learned there had been a settlement.
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P306"></SPAN>306}</span>
But outside influences intervened. One of the
two signatures was withheld. Then scandal broke
loose and the sewers of London overflowed all
winter. There were reproaches, recriminations,
divisions; all London taking one side or the other.
Then in the spring the same instrument, word for
word, was signed. The solicitors had never
wavered nor perhaps ever doubted that since they
were agreed their clients must ultimately agree.
It is a typical example of Sir George Lewis's
methods. But the mischief that had been done
by intruders could not be undone.</p>
<p>Sleeping for half a century, or for only years and
months, in the black japanned tin boxes which
line the walls in Ely Place and in his safes were
papers enough to compromise half London and
scandalize the other half. Sir George, reflecting
some years ago on this state of things, looked
through the collection and then burnt the whole.
That is the best possible answer to the foolish
story that he intended writing his memoirs.
His sense of professional etiquette and his sense
of honour may both be judged in the light of these
flaming documents. It had been necessary, of
course, to preserve some of these papers for a
time, on the chance of their being needed again.
But think of the relief with which hundreds and
hundreds of people heard of the burning! It is
almost as if the tragedies of which all record was
thus destroyed had never happened.[<SPAN id="chap32fn1text"></SPAN><SPAN href="#chap32fn1">1</SPAN>]</p>
<p><br/></p>
<p class="footnote">
<SPAN id="chap32fn1"></SPAN>
[<SPAN href="#chap32fn1text">1</SPAN>] I have since asked Sir George himself
about this conflagration
story. He answered: "Yes, it is true,
but there are things
here"—touching his forehead—"which
I can neither burn nor forget."</p>
<p><br/></p>
<p><span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P307"></SPAN>307}</span></p>
<p>Sir George Lewis could coerce as well as coax.
He could use threats, but never a threat he was
not ready to fulfil. By and by his character
came to be so well understood that a letter from
Ely Place became almost a summons to surrender.
But always on reasonable terms. With all that,
he had a kindness of heart to which thousands of
people can testify. I suppose no lawyer ever did
so much for clients without fee or reward. If you
were his friend, if you were of a profession, if you
came to him with a letter from some friend, if
you came to him in poverty with a case of oppression,
he would take infinite pains for you and no
fee. He had all sorts of out-of-the-way knowledge;
copyright law, for one, on which he was an authority,
and in which few solicitors are authorities.
There is this link between copyright in books and
in plays and theatrical contracts; the contract is
commonly drawn by the publisher or manager,
who is a man of business; and the author or
actor, who is not, is expected to accept it. It
was this solicitor's pleasure to redress that balance.</p>
<p>He was a law reformer. Again unlike most
successful men who are apt to be content with
things as they are. The letters he wrote to <i>The
Times</i> on such matters as the creation of a Court
of Criminal Appeal, alteration in the law of
divorce, the administration of Justice, and other
high legal questions show him a great scientific
lawyer, with a mastery of principles. He has
essentially a legal mind, and he wrote with a
luminous precision and force not always characteristic
of the legal mind. And he had what every
<span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P308"></SPAN>308}</span>
judge on the bench ought to have, and a few of
the greatest really have, an unerring perception
of such facts as are essential, and a power of
dismissing all the rest. Sir George Jessel had that;
one of the greatest judges. Students of ethnology
may remark with interest that both were Jews.
When such a man quits the stage it is an irreparable
loss to his friends, to his clients, and to the
world generally. The feeling is more than regret,
for ties are broken which never existed before
and will never exist again. Sir George Lewis's
position was unique because his personality is
unique. So will his fame be. Reputation in the
law is for the most part transitory. But this
will endure.</p>
<p><br/><br/><br/></p>
<p><SPAN id="chap33"></SPAN></p>
<p><span class="pagenum">{<SPAN id="P309"></SPAN>309}</span></p>
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