My Lords, on happier mornings than this one, after I became the Leader of your Lordships’ House, there would from time to time come a knock on my door and a smiling, spectacled face would somewhat hesitantly edge round it. “May I have a word?”, that gentle, quiet-spoken voice would ask. How readily I always welcomed in the late Lord Judge, mildly puzzled that I would be so deferred to by someone so much more gifted than me.
Of course, infinite courtesy was a mark of his, as was that genial humility that belied his remarkable career. He was born in Malta in 1941 and, as a baby, was almost killed during the fascist siege; thank goodness for the errant hand of that Axis bomb aimer. He became a brilliant scholar. He was called to the Bar in 1963, took Silk in 1979 and, as we know, went on to become a great judge, first in the High Court in 1988, and then as a Justice of Appeal in 1996. He became the President of the Queen’s Bench Division in 2005 and was the Lord Chief Justice from 2008 to 2013.
Beyond the bare bones, I am not qualified to speak of that very great legal career but, when he retired as Lord Chief Justice, he became, I would submit, a very great parliamentarian. Noble Lords know how it is in this place: no one ever reads a speech. You sometimes struggle to calculate, as yet another page of typed script is turned, how long it is going to go on. But with Igor it was so different. He would appear with a few notes on a couple of sheets of letter paper, often written down not much before, and would speak for four minutes or so in the simplest and most beautiful English, forged into arguments of steel and illumined by humour, quote or anecdote. He would seize the whole House by the scruff of the neck and compel its attention.
He became Convenor of the Cross-Bench Peers in 2019 and, as Cabinet Office Minister responsible for the constitution and later as Leader of your Lordships’ House, I regularly met him. My predecessor, my noble friend Lady Evans of Bowes Park, and my noble friend Lord Ashton of Hyde, who both much regret not being able to be here, have asked me to express their fondest appreciation of their own exchanges with Lord Judge in the usual channels and how they ever valued his charm and sound sense—as they saw it, a mentor, counsellor and friend. Once, my noble friend Lord Ashton remembers that, in a very British manner, they conducted a whole negotiation with a House of Lords mouse which neither of them mentioned sitting motionless on the chair behind Lord Judge’s right ear. Igor, it seems, like Orpheus, could even charm the animals.