Thursday, October 03, 2013

Silky Advocacy

I sat on a three day appeal at the Crown Court last week. The defence counsel was an experienced QC and he was clearly well accustomed to addressing juries. For those of us who practice in the lower courts it is a rare treat to listen to high quality advocacy. We allowed the appeal but as we expected the costs application was eye-watering. We ordered the sum to be 'taxed' (assessed)  but even if the appellant had to pay it himself he would have had value for his money, as he is in a profession where even a low-level criminal conviction can have devastating consequences, personal; and professional. 

14 comments:

  1. It was always a pleasure to chair betting & gaming licence hearings addressed by specialist and able QCs; sadly, an opportunity rarely now afforded to the independent, locally informed magistracy.

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    1. On the authority of Wodehouse, I had sofar thought the offense of choice for the well heeled Briton was stealing a bobby' cap and throwing it into the nearest pond.

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    2. There is always Mr. Toad:

      `To my mind,' observed the Chairman of the Bench of Magistrates cheerfully, `the only difficulty that presents itself in this otherwise very clear case is, how we can possibly make it sufficiently hot for the incorrigible rogue and hardened ruffian whom we see cowering in the dock before us. Let me see: he has been found guilty, on the clearest evidence, first, of stealing a valuable motor-car; secondly, of driving to the public danger; and, thirdly, of gross impertinence to the rural police. Mr. Clerk, will you tell us, please, what is the very stiffest penalty we can impose for each of these offences? Without, of course, giving the prisoner the benefit of any doubt, because there isn't any.'

      The Clerk scratched his nose with his pen. `Some people would consider,' he observed, `that stealing the motor-car was the worst offence; and so it is. But cheeking the police undoubtedly carries the severest penalty; and so it ought. Supposing you were to say twelve months for the theft, which is mild; and three years for the furious driving, which is lenient; and fifteen years for the cheek, which was pretty bad sort of cheek, judging by what we've heard from the witness-box, even if you only believe one-tenth part of what you heard, and I never believe more myself--those figures, if added together correctly, tot up to nineteen years----'

      `First-rate!' said the Chairman.

      `--So you had better make it a round twenty years and be on the safe side,' concluded the Clerk.

      `An excellent suggestion!' said the Chairman approvingly. `Prisoner! Pull yourself together and try and stand up straight. It's going to be twenty years for you this time. And mind, if you appear before us again, upon any charge whatever, we shall have to deal with you very seriously!'

      Then the brutal minions of the law fell upon the hapless Toad; loaded him with chains, and dragged him from the Court House, shrieking, praying, protesting; across the marketplace, where the playful populace, always as severe upon detected crime as they are sympathetic and helpful when one is merely `wanted,' assailed him with jeers, carrots, and popular catch-words; past hooting school children, their innocent faces lit up with the pleasure they ever derive from the sight of a gentleman in difficulties; across the hollow-sounding drawbridge, below the spiky portcullis, under the frowning archway of the grim old castle, whose ancient towers soared high overhead; past guardrooms full of grinning soldiery off duty, past sentries who coughed in a horrid, sarcastic way, because that is as much as a sentry on his post dare do to show his contempt and abhorrence of crime; up time-worn winding stairs, past men-at-arms in casquet and corselet of steel, darting threatening looks through their vizards; across courtyards, where mastiffs strained at their leash and pawed the air to get at him; past ancient warders, their halberds leant against the wall, dozing over a pasty and a flagon of brown ale; on and on, past the rack-chamber and the thumbscrew-room, past the turning that led to the private scaffold, till they reached the door of the grimmest dungeon that lay in the heart of the innermost keep. There at last they paused, where an ancient gaoler sat fingering a bunch of mighty keys.

      `Oddsbodikins!' said the sergeant of police, taking off his helmet and wiping his forehead. `Rouse thee, old loon, and take over from us this vile Toad, a criminal of deepest guilt and matchless artfulness and resource. Watch and ward him with all thy skill; and mark thee well, greybeard, should aught untoward befall, thy old head shall answer for his--and a murrain on both of them!'

      The gaoler nodded grimly, laying his withered hand on the shoulder of the miserable Toad. The rusty key creaked in the lock, the great door clanged behind them; and Toad was a helpless prisoner in the remotest dungeon of the best-guarded keep of the stoutest castle in all the length and breadth of Merry England.

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    3. :-)) It's funny to think, having read The wind in the willows as a child, I was left with the impression of its being a serious, even sad book. I was obviously much to young for it, must have a second go at it asap

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  2. I feel that I gained immeasuraably in my chairing skills by from time to time sitting alongside a crown court judge on appeals, and learning much that I could apply in the mags' court.

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  3. The two big differences in Crown Court procedure tend to be a) there are more 'jokes' emanating from the Bench and b) there are more eager-to-please chuckles echoing from the well in response.

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  4. I loved that passage as a boy of seven!

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    1. Well, my edition had highly dramatic pictures. I have a vague recollection of Toad ( a real toad, if one dressed in a morning suit) cowering in the dock...eventuaaly I chose to be a defense counsel. Deep, deep impression.

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  5. I remember being on a cash forfeiture case. We agreed the forfeit and then came the costs issue, and in such matters any ability to pay is not a matter for us.

    There were two defendants, each represented by fairly young barristers. One stood up and said she would speak for them both. She opened her file and took out four copies of sets of pages that were passed to the bench. I noticed a slight smile cross the face of the prosecuting lawyer, a pretty eminent 'junior'.

    She started going through the pages drawing our attention, and that of the prosecutor, to certain facts. After a few minutes he stood up saying, whilst reluctant to interrupt, he thought perhaps he should let his learned friend know that he was very familiar with the text she was referring to as it came from a book, that he had written. She didn't have a lot to say after that.

    After a quick check of the total, which was wrong and in his favour by £50, we reduced it by that amount and agreed the costs. If my memory is correct the total of the costs for the preparation, which took many months, and the two day hearing was just over £17,000. The forfeit amount was about £75,000.

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    1. I would have just laughed in your face and not paid a penny.

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    2. Do you know what "contempt of court" is?

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  6. 'Value for money', in order to reverse a wrongful conviction, sounds debatable.

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    1. It will be a daily reality in the Crown Court under the Legal Aid reforms, where costs will be capped at legal aid rates, with the successful appellant being expected to foot the difference between that sum and his/her actual costs, as I understand.

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