V
Judge Cooke— They’ll
Never Forget This One
He dispensed jusliee wilh merry and
good humor «ind good sense.
Charles Cooke was especially daz¬
zling. The middle name, Mather, sig¬
nified relationship on his mother's side
to Cotton Mather. New England theo¬
logian and witch hunter. He entered
the freshman class at Wake Forest in
1860, and quit that spring to join up
with the Confederate Army. After the
War he studied law and opened an of¬
fice in Louisburg. The eager young
man’s first case was before Harry
Webb, a colored magistrate elected by
his lately enfranchised race. Showing
his excellent schooling, Cooke deftly
laid before the court the applicable
laws and demanded a judgment ac¬
cordingly. Magistrate Webb helplessly
shook his head, "Mr. Cooke, don’t
you know tain't no use giving judge¬
ment against dat man? He can’t pay
no costs."
Not too discouraged by this blow
to the citadel of law and order, Cooke
went on to become one of the most
sought-after attorneys in this section
of the state. He jumped fect-first into
the political arena and stayed there, a
champion for over thirty years. His
last post, which he held for 14 years,
was that of Superior Court Judge in
the 4th district.
The stories told about Judge Cooke
would probably Till a good-sized vol¬
ume. Somebody really ought to collect
them, because the younger generation
is gradually forgetting this almost
legendary hero of Franklin. Famous
. for his wit and compassion as well ns
for his copious knowledge and skill.
Judge Cooke helped out many an un¬
fortunate in his day. As an advocate,
he was formidable, and on the bench
he never missed a trick.
On one occasion. Wiley Person, later
to lead the Senate bust-up of tobacco
co-ops. was pleading a case in Cooke's
THE STATE. January 19. 1963
court. As the proceedings dragged on.
Judge Cooke leaned back and closed
his eyes. After some time. Person,
somewhat miffed, whispered to the op¬
posing lawyer, "It’s no use to go on
with the testimony now, as the Judge
is asleep.” Judge Cooke never opened
an eye, but drawled, "Col. Person, I
know more law asleep than you’ll ever
know awake.” The case continued.
Judge Cooke's popularity was well-
nigh universal, as is proved by this
story. Although a pillar of the Baptist
Church, the Judge liked his toddy. An¬
other prominent member frowned
mightily on this habit and made mo¬
tion that Cooke be turned out of the
church. The congregation endorsed the
Judge — and turned out the tec-
totaling plaintiff.
Once while Judge Cooke was hold¬
ing court in Clinton, a little Negro man
was brought before him. charged with
selling liquor.
The Negro couldn’t walk, except on
his hands, and he weighed only about
ninety pounds. He was unable to do
anything except drive a butt headed
steer hitched to an open cart, from
which he sold vegetables.
One day, officials found several bot¬
tles of whiskey hidden under the
covering and had him arraigned be¬
fore the court.
"Where is the defendant?" Judge
Cooke demanded when the court was
opened.
"Here I be. Jcdge," the little Negro
answered. He was seated on the floor
before the Judge’s desk and could not
be seen.
"I don’t sec you, Fcrd; where is
yoT* the Judge asked, adopting the
Negro dialect as he sometimes did in
cases of this kind.
JUDGE COOKE
"Here I be," the Negro answered
again.
Judge Cooke peeped over the top of
his bench and saw’ the little man.
"Is that you?" he asked.
Then he turned to the sheriff and
said "Sheriff, take Ferd and set him
up on that chair."
The sheriff did so, and when the
Judge saw the little Negro's condition
he turned around and faced him.
"Fcrd," said the Judge, "they tell
me you’se 'cused of selling liquor. Is
you guilty or not guilty?”
"Esc guilty. Jcdge," said Fcrd.
"Well, Fcrd, ain’t you got no sense
a-tall? Don’t you know it's ag’in’ the
law to sell liquor?"
Ferd looked at the Judge seriously
and said: "Well, Jcdge, you see I can’t
work, and I don't want to steal, and
folks won’t buy my vegetables, and
scllin’ liquor's the only way I know
how to make an honest living."
Turning to the sheriff. Judge Cooke
said:
"Sheriff, take Fcrd up and carry’
him out there and set him on the roots
of that big oak tree outside. Maybe
some of his folks will come along and
get him after a while. And Mr. Clerk
(Con limit'd on pave 27)
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