Of the thousands of anecdotes relating to life at the Bar, the following is consistently one of my favourites:
A young barrister is conducting his or her first jury trail and despite the strength of the Crown's case has done a wonderful job. Hour upon hour has been spent in preparation, no stone has been left unturned and the closing speech has been carefully crafted and honed (it was thought) by repetition whilst standing before the mirror that night. However, whether carried away by the moment or the passion invested in the case as a whole, at an essential point during the speech and almost as an aside, these words were audibly and unconsciously uttered: "Members of the jury, using that analysis as a template, you may think the prosecution case to be a load of bollocks!" Oblivious to the fact barrister X continued the oratory and with a thunder seldom seen in a closing speech in relation to shop theft finished and sat down, almost as an empty vessel.
The Learned Judge, having waited for a few moments, calmly directed the jury upon the law before dealing with the evidence in brief. With the jury bailiffs being sworn, the jury retired to begin their deliberations and the learned judge with a gracious bow retired to his chambers.
Almost at once the uproar began. As barrister X was told of the comment by prosecution counsel, the flush of youth and relief drained from the face within an instant. Confirmed by the clerk, then the usher, the stenographer, and finally the assortment of random members of the public found within any court, it dawned on barrister X with horror, that the comment had indeed been made.
"What shall I do?" asked barrister X in panic. The response was universal: an apology should be made to the judge in chambers.
An audience was sought and granted, and on legs weakened by the ordeal, barrister X walked the short distance to judge's chambers and knocked on the door. "Come in," replied the kindly voice.
"Sit down Barrister X," said the judge, "I understand you wish to see me about a personal matter." "I'm so sorry for what I said Your Honour," stammered Barrister X in reply, "I was nervous I suppose...it just came out...I meant no discourtesy of course...and I would just like to say thank you for not immediately correcting me in open court in front of the jury."
The judge nodded sagely. "Well", he replied, 'I did think about saying something, but I thought that if I did you'd tell me to f*%k off!"
That, to me, says a number of things about life at the Bar. It indicates the investment of time that most barristers give to even the most simple of cases and the work that goes in behind the scenes. It indicates the passion and craft that is inherently part of the job. It indicates that we all make mistakes at some time or another, that we are all human. It shows that there is a humorous side to what goes on both inside and outside court, and it provides a glimpse of the mutual respect between the bar and judiciary (and professional and lay client) that underpins the whole system.
Ultimately, the criminal Bar is a referral profession that prides itself on the quality of advice and advocacy that it provides. It rightly prides itself on its tradition, its history, its integrity, honesty and independence. That is why, despite the doom and gloom that is manifest at present, we return to court day in and day out to (I hope) uphold those traditions - traditions people may think are worth fighting for. Whilst change is always going to occur, one hopes that people recognize the need for a quality advocacy service, provided by an independent Bar.
A young barrister is conducting his or her first jury trail and despite the strength of the Crown's case has done a wonderful job. Hour upon hour has been spent in preparation, no stone has been left unturned and the closing speech has been carefully crafted and honed (it was thought) by repetition whilst standing before the mirror that night. However, whether carried away by the moment or the passion invested in the case as a whole, at an essential point during the speech and almost as an aside, these words were audibly and unconsciously uttered: "Members of the jury, using that analysis as a template, you may think the prosecution case to be a load of bollocks!" Oblivious to the fact barrister X continued the oratory and with a thunder seldom seen in a closing speech in relation to shop theft finished and sat down, almost as an empty vessel.
The Learned Judge, having waited for a few moments, calmly directed the jury upon the law before dealing with the evidence in brief. With the jury bailiffs being sworn, the jury retired to begin their deliberations and the learned judge with a gracious bow retired to his chambers.
Almost at once the uproar began. As barrister X was told of the comment by prosecution counsel, the flush of youth and relief drained from the face within an instant. Confirmed by the clerk, then the usher, the stenographer, and finally the assortment of random members of the public found within any court, it dawned on barrister X with horror, that the comment had indeed been made.
"What shall I do?" asked barrister X in panic. The response was universal: an apology should be made to the judge in chambers.
An audience was sought and granted, and on legs weakened by the ordeal, barrister X walked the short distance to judge's chambers and knocked on the door. "Come in," replied the kindly voice.
"Sit down Barrister X," said the judge, "I understand you wish to see me about a personal matter." "I'm so sorry for what I said Your Honour," stammered Barrister X in reply, "I was nervous I suppose...it just came out...I meant no discourtesy of course...and I would just like to say thank you for not immediately correcting me in open court in front of the jury."
The judge nodded sagely. "Well", he replied, 'I did think about saying something, but I thought that if I did you'd tell me to f*%k off!"
That, to me, says a number of things about life at the Bar. It indicates the investment of time that most barristers give to even the most simple of cases and the work that goes in behind the scenes. It indicates the passion and craft that is inherently part of the job. It indicates that we all make mistakes at some time or another, that we are all human. It shows that there is a humorous side to what goes on both inside and outside court, and it provides a glimpse of the mutual respect between the bar and judiciary (and professional and lay client) that underpins the whole system.
Ultimately, the criminal Bar is a referral profession that prides itself on the quality of advice and advocacy that it provides. It rightly prides itself on its tradition, its history, its integrity, honesty and independence. That is why, despite the doom and gloom that is manifest at present, we return to court day in and day out to (I hope) uphold those traditions - traditions people may think are worth fighting for. Whilst change is always going to occur, one hopes that people recognize the need for a quality advocacy service, provided by an independent Bar.
2 comments:
Enjoyed that story - Today... The Sun had a story abopput a proecuting barrister rugby tackling an escaping defendant and keeping his wig on.
I managed to slide it in to a blog post ...
Honestly, BB, I wish I knew why I am trying to do it -I'm quite stumped for an answer that doesn't sound cliched and that chambers hasn't heard and cringed at a thousand times before ( e.g. I feel its a calling/I want to be of help/I'm a compulsive helper/will work for nothing, because its the job satisfcation that counts/I value the independence of the bar its a quality I hope is mirrored in myself and so on and so forth) - I expect I'll come up with something sooner or later that doesn't have the various and sundry pupillage selction commitees about to read my applications falling off their chairs laughing.....
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