CHAPTER XXV - THE BAR (CONT'D)

STORIES OF THE BAR.

Many interesting stories are told of incidents occurring during the progress of trials in Shelby county. For example the Shelby County Record of January 19, 1876, tells this story: “DeSilva had a case last Monday before a justice in the colony. Witness started to say something that would hurt his part of the case, when DeSilva said: ‘Henry! Henry! He mustn’t say that.’”

That the early unmarried members of the bar did not have their minds wholly absorbed by the law is proved by this local item, appearing in one of the Harlan newspapers in the seventies: “It is reported that on the evening of the lecture at the supper table a young lawyer, whose name is -------, became so much absorbed in looking at the lecturess that he was caught making futile efforts to eat soup with his fork.”

In the early days the members of the bar seem to have devoted more attention to one another than the occasion justified when perhaps they ought to have been keeping their minds on the law and evidence of the case which they were trying. During the progress of the Gardner-Zimmerman trial in May, 1887, annoyed by the constant quarreling of counsel, the court, while waiting for a witness turned to the attorneys and remarked, “Now, gentlemen, we have a few minutes’ leisure. You will devote the time to quarreling.” It is said that this remark of the court set the attorneys back to such an extent that they finished the week without exchanging another cross word.

If tradition bears the torch of truth in the matter, several of the Harlan attorneys have had some difficulty in handling Scriptural quotations safely. One attorney, it is said, wishing to emphasize before a jury that flight of one charged with crime indicated a guilty conscience, intended to say, “The evil flee when no man pursueth,” but what he insisted on saying was, “The evil pursue when no man fleeth,” which version he repeated with great emphasis several times when he thought he detected an effort on the part of the other attorneys to laugh him out of court. Another attorney, deeming it his duty to correct the erring brother, declared it as his fixed opinion that “No man pursueth when the evil fleeth.”

On another occasion at the Methodist church, when the church was crowded, a legal brother intending to edify the congregation by quoting the words, “May my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth and my hand not forget its cunning,” surprised and delighted his hearers by declaring solemnly, “May my hand cleave to the roof of my mouth and my tongue not forget its cunning.”

The author is indebted to Hon. G. Smith Stanton, whose recollections occur elsewhere in this volume, for the following story of early days in court at Harlan. [The Joe Smith therein mentioned was the father of Tom C. Smith who practiced law in Harlan]:

“Every good story having a Western brand was during the war repeated by the friends and enemies of President Lincoln as Old Abe’s last. One of the stories appropriated as one of Abe’s actually originated in the court house in Harlan, Shelby county, Iowa, and a lawyer by the name of Joe Smith was the originator. As already stated, my place on the Pigeon was about half way between the county seats of Shelby and Harrison counties. I often entertained the court and bar as they passed from one county seat to the other. They were a witty and bright lot of fellows, but poor in purse. Their clothes had seen long service and represented all the styles before the war. Joe was a great wit, and unfortunately, always broke. Once while attending court at Harlan and while waiting for his own case to be called, he got quite interested in the case which was being tried. The seat of the trousers of one of the attorneys who was trying the case was worn through, and as he wore a sack coat and while addressing the jury would lean forward, one could see through the hole in the trousers the white shirt within. A philanthropic brother attorney had drawn up a subscription paper and passed it around among the lawyers for signature, the purport of which was to buy the brother attorney a new pair of trousers. Seventy-five cents in those days would have accomplished the mission. When it came Smith’s turn to sign, he, being broke as usual, wrote the following endorsement on the subscription paper: “On account of my financial condition I am unable to contribute anything toward the object in view.”

In the early days of the county there resided therein a Swede who had been a rather rough citizen, it is said. He subsequently left the county, and one day word came back that he had died while fighting a prairie fire. A case arose in the district court in some way involving the Swede’s career. G. W. C. addressing the jury said, “They tell us ------ died fighting fire, and for aught that you or I may know, gentlemen of the jury, he’s fighting fire yet.”