Old maids and fortune-hunters

Everything should have been perfect for John Coleridge, a descendant of the famous poet. He was educated at Eton and Balliol College, Oxford, and enjoyed a successful career at the bar, and then a rapid rise in the judiciary and politics. Coleridge was appointed solicitor-general, attorney-general, chief justice of the common pleas and lastly lord chief justice of England.

Coleridge had established a successful legal practice on the Western Circuit, where he made a fortune. He was in demand with his good looks, impressive manner and persuasive advocacy. A liberally minded man, Coleridge became a ‘firm and consistent’ supporter of women’s suffrage as well as an active anti-vivisectionist, campaigning against cruelty to animals, mainly in medical experiments.

As a barrister he was involved in the infamous 1871 Tichborne case, which fascinated and divided Victorian Britain over a claim from a possible imposter to be a missing heir. When on the bench, Coleridge was involved in several landmark judgments, including:

• R v Coney [1882], which effectively outlawed bare-knuckle prize fighting;
• R v Dudley and Stephens [1884], which outlawed eating a cabin boy even if it was necessary; and
• Gordon-Cumming v Wilson and Others [1891], which concerned allegations of cheating at cards. The Prince of Wales had to appear as a witness, much to the irritation of his mother.

On becoming chief justice of the common pleas, Coleridge was made a peer, Baron Coleridge, of Ottery St Mary in Devon. In 1875, the three common law courts (the Court of Queen’s Bench, the Court of Common Pleas and the Court of the Exchequer) merged to become divisions of the new High Court of Justice. The head of each court continued in post, but after the deaths of Sir Fitzroy Kelly and Sir Alexander Cockburn in 1880, the three divisions were merged into one, with Lord Coleridge as lord chief justice of England.

Coleridge’s first wife died young and his daughter Mildred was expected to take over her mother’s role in running the family home. She then met a man called Adams. Coleridge objected to her relationship with this man, variously regarded as a blackguard or fortune hunter. Mildred’s brother wrote a disparaging letter to her, probably at their father’s behest, which led to libel proceedings forcing Coleridge to appear in his own courtroom.

The experience of his appearing in court was described by sympathetic people as ‘painful’ and even ‘grossly indecent’. The litigation was expensive, protracted and embarrassing, leading to media and public speculation about the personal lives of the rich and famous. Over two years, there were two trials, one appeal, a settlement, two failed mediations and two marriages.

Coleridge eventually found romance during an Atlantic crossing. Somewhat later, he married this much younger lady of a lower social status, resulting in even more press speculation and gossip.

At one point, Adams could not find any solicitors to act for him in his case against the lord chief. Adams had been married before but that union had been annulled because he had not lived in Scotland, where the ceremony had been held, for the regulation period of days. This led to more questions about his private life and whether he was truly single or married in the eyes of society.

Coleridge felt he had good reason to dislike Adams, whom he thought of as a badly dressed journalist with a full beard (apparently, Coleridge did not like beards). ‘What do we really know of him?’ the judge asked.

There was an incident in ‘a darkened room’ between Mildred and Adams, when, shockingly, they were alone together. Her father accepted her protestations of innocence, but no doubt remained highly suspicious of Adams. One of the letters reproduced in the book refers to the danger of Mildred becoming ‘a white elephant’, not a nice thing to call a relative. The phrase was popularised at the time by P T Barnum’s circus, which displayed an animal of that colour.

There is something of the old fogey about Coleridge. Despite his modernity on some causes, Coleridge’s court rulings were described as having the ‘smell of the Middle Ages’. He did, however, embark on a judicial tour of America, where he gave countless speeches and met lawyers. Some in England thought that he was making a fool of himself and damaging the reputation of the judiciary. Perhaps he was a man out of his proper time. One wag said God had intended Coleridge to be a bishop, but by accident he became a judge.

This all makes for an excellent book featuring ‘old maids’ who might be left on the shelf, blackguards, fortune-hunters, and children cut off without a penny. All of this was topical. The Married Women’s Property Act 1870 had allowed women to own their wages and inheritances separately from their husbands. It was not until the 1882 act that married women had full control over all their property, including property acquired before and after marriage, and were allowed to enter into contracts and litigate.

I wonder what his colleagues on the bench thought of this and how such issues would be dealt with today. Nowadays, lovers and irate parents communicate by text and email, which will probably not be preserved for posterity.

The book is the result of extensive research into archives and newspaper records and is a remarkable work of scholarship. A very interesting read.

David Pickup is a partner at Pickup & Scott Solicitors, Aylesbury