'COUNTY-COURT DAY'
The monthly sitting of the County Court in a country market town is an
event of much interest in all the villages around, so many of the causes
concerning agricultural people. 'County-Court Day' is looked upon as a
date in the calendar by which to recollect when a thing happened, or to
arrange for the future.
As the visitor enters the doorway of the Court, at a distance the scene
appears imposing. Brass railings and red curtains partition off about a
third of the hall, and immediately in the rear of this the Judge sits high
above the rest on a raised and carpeted dais. The elevation and isolation
of the central figure adds a solemn dignity to his office. His features
set, as it were, in the wig, stand out in sharp relief--they are of a
keenly intellectual cast, and have something of the precise clearness of
an antique cameo. The expression is that of a mind in continuous
exercise--of a mind accustomed not to slow but to quick deliberation, and
to instant decision. The definition of the face gives the eyes the aspect
of penetration, as if they saw at once beneath the surface of things.
If the visitor looks only at the Judge he will realise the dignity of the
law; the law which is the outcome and result of so many centuries of
thought. But if he glances aside from the central figure the impression is
weakened by the miserable, hollow, and dingy framing. The carpet upon the
daïs and the red curtains before it ill conceal the paltry substructure.
It is composed of several large tables, heavy and shapeless as benches,
placed side by side to form a platform. The curtains are dingy and
threadbare the walls dingy; the ceiling, though lofty, dingy; the boxes on
either side for Plaintiff and Defendant are scratched and defaced by the
innumerable witnesses who have blundered into them, kicking their shoes
against the woodwork. The entire apparatus is movable, and can be taken to
pieces in ten minutes, or part of it employed for meetings of any
description. There is nothing appropriate or convenient; it is a
makeshift, and altogether unequal to the pretensions of a Court now
perhaps the most useful and most resorted to of any that sit in the
country.
Quarter sessions and assizes come only at long intervals, are held only in
particular time-honoured places, and take cognisance only of very serious
offences which happily are not numerous. The County Court at the present
day has had its jurisdiction so enlarged that it is really, in country
districts, the leading tribunal, and the one best adapted to modern wants,
because its procedure is to a great extent free from obsolete forms and
technicalities. The Plaintiff and the Defendant literally face their
Judge, practically converse with him, and can tell their story in their
own simple and natural way. It is a fact that the importance and
usefulness of the country County Court has in most places far outgrown the
arrangements made for it. The Judges may with reason complain that while
their duties have been enormously added to, their convenience has not been
equally studied, nor their salaries correspondingly increased.
In front, and below the Judge's desk, just outside the red curtain, is a
long and broad table, at which the High Bailiff sits facing the hall. By
his side the Registrar's clerk from time to time makes notes in a
ponderous volume which contains a minute and exact record of every claim.
Opposite, and at each end, the lawyers have their chairs and strew the
table with their papers.
As a rule a higher class of lawyers appear in the County Court than before
the Petty Sessional Bench. A local solicitor of ability no sooner gets a
'conveyancing' practice than he finds his time too valuable to be spent
arguing in cases of assault or petty larceny. He ceases to attend the
Petty Sessions, unless his private clients are interested or some
exceptional circumstances induce him. In the County Court cases often
arise which concern property, houses and lands, and the fulfilment of
contracts. Some of the very best lawyers of the district may consequently
be seen at that table, and frequently a barrister or two of standing
specially retained is among them.
A low wooden partition, crossing the entire width of the hall, separates
the 'bar' from the general public, Plaintiff and Defendant being admitted
through a gangway. As the hall is not carpeted, nor covered with any
material, a new-comer must walk on tip-toe to avoid raising the echo of
hollow boards, or run the risk of a reproof from the Judge, anxiously
endeavouring to catch the accents of a mumbling witness. Groups of people
stand near the windows whispering, and occasionally forgetting, in the
eagerness of the argument, that talking is prohibited. The room is already
full, but will be crowded when the 'horse case' comes on again. Nothing is
of so much interest as a 'horse case.' The issues raised concern almost
every countryman, and the parties are generally well known. All the idlers
of the town are here, and among them many a rascal who has been, through
the processes, and comes again to listen and possibly learn a dodge by
which to delay the execution of judgment. Some few of the more favoured
and respectable persons have obtained entrance to the space allotted to
the solicitors, and have planted themselves in a solid circle round the
fire, effectually preventing the heat from benefiting anyone else. Another
fire, carefully tended by a bailiff, burns in the grate behind the Judge,
but, as his seat is so far from it, without adding much to his comfort. A
chilly draught sweeps along the floor, and yet at the same time there is a
close and somewhat fetid atmosphere at the height at which men breathe.
The place is ill warmed and worse ventilated; altogether without
convenience, and comfortless.
To-day the Judge, to suit the convenience of the solicitors engaged in the
'horse case,' who have requested permission to consult in private, has
asked for a short defended cause to fill up the interval till they are
ready to resume. The High Bailiff calls 'Brown _v_. Jones,' claim 8_s_.
for goods supplied. No one at first answers, but after several calls a
woman in the body of the Court comes forward. She is partly deaf, and
until nudged by her neighbours did not hear her husband's name. The
Plaintiff is a small village dealer in tobacco, snuff, coarse groceries,
candles, and so on. His wife looks after the little shop and he works with
horse and cart, hauling and doing odd jobs for the farmers. Instead of
attending himself he has sent his wife to conduct the case. The Defendant
is a labourer living in the same village, who, like so many of his class,
has got into debt. He, too, has sent his wife to represent him. This is
the usual course of the cottagers, and of agricultural people who are
better off than cottagers. The men shirk out of difficulties of this kind
by going off in the morning early to their work with the parting remark,
'Aw, you'd better see about it; I don't knaw nothing about such jobs.'
The High Bailiff has no easy task to swear the Plaintiff's representative.
First, she takes the book and kisses it before the formula prescribed has
been repeated. Then she waits till the sentence is finished and lifts the
book with the left hand instead of the right. The Registrar's clerk has to
go across to the box and shout an explanation into her ear. 'Tell the
truth,' says the old lady, with alacrity; 'why, that's what I be come
for.' The Judge asks her what it is she claims, and she replies that that
man, the Registrar's clerk, has got it all written down in his book. She
then turns to the Defendant's wife, who stands in the box opposite, and
shouts to her, 'You knows you ain't paid it.'
It is in vain that the Judge endeavours to question her, in vain that the
High Bailiff tries to calm her, in vain that the clerk lays his hand on
her arm--she is bent on telling the Defendant a bit of her mind. The Court
is perforce compelled to wait till it is over, when the Judge, seeing that
talking is of no avail, goes at once to the root of the matter and asks to
see her books. A dirty account-book, such as may be purchased for
threepence, is handed up to him; the binding is broken, and some of the
leaves are loose. It is neither a day-book, a ledger, nor anything
else--there is no system whatever, and indeed the Plaintiff admits that
she only put down about half of it, and trusted to memory for the rest.
Here is a date, and after it some figures, but no articles mentioned,
neither tea nor candles. Next come some groceries, and the price, but no
one's name, so that it is impossible to tell who had the goods. Then there
are pages with mysterious dots and strokes and half-strokes, which
ultimately turn out to mean ounces and half-ounces of tobacco. These have
neither name nor value attached. From end to end nothing is crossed off,
so that whether an account be paid or not cannot be ascertained.
While the Judge laboriously examines every page, trying by the light of
former experience to arrive at some idea of the meaning, the Defendant's
wife takes up her parable. She chatters in return at the Plaintiff, then
she addresses the High Bailiff, who orders her to remain quiet, and,
finally, turns round and speaks to the crowd. The Judge, absorbed in the
attempt to master the account-book, does not for the moment notice this,
till, as he comes to the conclusion that the book is utterly valueless, he
looks up and finds the Defendant with her back turned gesticulating and
describing her wrongs to the audience. Even his command of silence is with
reluctance obeyed, and she continues to mutter to herself. When order is
restored the Judge asks for her defence, when the woman immediately
produces a receipt, purporting to be for this very eight shillings' worth.
At the sight of this torn and dirty piece of paper the Plaintiff works
herself into a fury, and speaks so fast and so loud (as deaf people will)
that no one else can be heard. Till she is made to understand that she
will be sent out of Court she does not desist. The Judge looks at the
receipt, and finds it correct; but still the Plaintiff positively declares
that she has never had the money. Yet she admits that the receipt is in
her handwriting. The Judge asks the Defendant who paid over the cash, and
she replies that it was her husband. The account-book contains no
memorandum of any payment at all. With difficulty the Judge again obtains
silence, and once more endeavours to understand a page of the account-book
to which the Plaintiff persists in pointing. His idea is now to identify
the various articles mentioned in the receipt with the articles put down
on that particular page.
After at least three-quarters of an hour, during which the book is handed
to and fro by the clerk from Judge to Plaintiff, that she may explain the
meaning of the hieroglyphics, some light at last begins to dawn. By dint
of patiently separating the mixed entries the Judge presently arrives at a
partial comprehension of what the Plaintiff has been trying to convey. The
amount of the receipted bill and the amount of the entries in the page of
the account-book are the same; but the articles entered in the book and
those admitted to be paid for are not. The receipt mentions candles; the
account-book has no candles. Clearly they are two different debts, which
chanced to come to the same figure. The receipt, however, is not dated,
and whether it is the Defendant who is wilfully misrepresenting, or
whether the Plaintiff is under a mistaken notion, the Judge for the time
cannot decide. The Defendant declares that she does not know the date and
cannot fix it--it was a 'main bit ago,' and that is all she can say.
For the third time the Judge, patient to the last degree, wades through
the account-book. Meanwhile the hands of the clock have moved on. Instead
of being a short case, this apparently simple matter has proved a long
one, and already as the afternoon advances the light of the dull winter's
day declines. The solicitors engaged in the 'horse case,' who retired to
consult, hoping to come to a settlement, returned into Court fully an hour
ago, and have since been sitting at the table waiting to resume. Besides
these some four or five other lawyers of equal standing are anxiously
looking for a chance of commencing their business. All their clients are
waiting, and the witnesses; they have all crowded into the Court, the
close atmosphere of which is almost intolerable.
But having begun the case the Judge gives it his full and undivided
attention. Solicitors, clients, witnesses, cases that interest the public,
causes that concern valuable property, or important contracts must all be
put aside till this trifling matter is settled. He is as anxious as any,
or more so, to get on, because delay causes business to accumulate--the
adjourned causes, of course, having to be heard at next Court, and thus
swelling the list to an inordinate length. But, impatient as he may be,
especially as he is convinced that one or other of the parties is keeping
back a part of the truth, he is determined that the subject shall be
searched to the bottom. The petty village shopkeeper and the humble
cottager obtain as full or fuller attention than the well-to-do Plaintiffs
and Defendants who can bring down barristers from London.
'What have you there?' the Registrar's clerk demands of the Plaintiff
presently. She has been searching in her pocket for a snuff-box wherewith
to refresh herself, and, unable to immediately discover it, has emptied
the contents of the pocket on the ledge of the witness-box. Among the rest
is another little account-book.
'Let me see that,' demands the Judge, rather sharply, and no wonder. 'Why
did you not produce it before?'
'Aw, he be last year's un; some of it be two years ago,' is the reply.
Another long pause. The Judge silently examines every page of the
account-book two years old. Suddenly he looks up. 'This receipt,' he says,
'was given for an account rendered eighteen months ago. Here in this older
book are the entries corresponding with it. The present claim is for a
second series of articles which happened to come to the same amount, and
the Defendant, finding that the receipt was not dated, has endeavoured to
make it do duty for the two.'
'I tould you so,' interrupts the Plaintiff. 'I tould you so, but you
wouldn't listen to I.'
The Judge continues that he is not sure he ought not to commit the
Defendant, and then, with a gesture of weary disgust, throws down his pen
and breaks off in the middle of his sentence to ask the High Bailiff if
there are any other judgments out against the Defendant. So many years'
experience of the drifts, subterfuges, paltry misrepresentations and
suppressions--all the mean and despicable side of poor humanity--have
indeed wearied him, but, at the same time, taught forbearance. He
hesitates to be angry, and delays to punish. The people are poor,
exceedingly poor. The Defendant's wife says she has eight children; they
are ignorant, and, in short, cannot be, in equity, judged as others in
better circumstances. There are two other judgments against the Defendant,
who is earning about 12s. a week, and the verdict is 1s. a month, first
payment that day three weeks.
Then the solicitor for the Plaintiff in the 'horse case' rises and informs
the Judge that the parties cannot settle it, and the case must proceed.
The Plaintiff and Defendant take their places, and some thirty witnesses
file through the gangway to the witness-room to be out of Court. The
bailiffs light the gas as the gloom deepens, and the solicitor begins his
opening speech. The Judge has leant back in his chair, closed his eyes,
and composed himself to listen. By the time two witnesses have been
examined the hour has arrived when the Judge can sit no longer. He must
leave, because on the morrow he has to hold a Court in another part of the
county. The important 'horse case' and the other causes must wait a
month.. He sits to the very last moment, then hastily stuffs deeds,
documents, papers of all descriptions into a portmanteau already
overflowing, and rushes to his carriage.
He will go through much the same work to-morrow; combating the irritating
misrepresentations, exposing suppressors, discovering the truth under a
mountain of crass stupidity and wilful deceit. Next day he will be again
at work; and the same process will go on the following week. In the month
there are perhaps about five days--exclusive of Sundays--upon which he
does not sit. But those days are not holidays. They are spent in patiently
reading a mass of deeds, indentures, contracts, vouchers, affidavits,
evidence of every description and of the most voluminous character. These
have been put in by solicitors, as part of their cases, and require the
most careful attention. Besides causes that are actually argued out in
open Court, there are others which, by consent of both parties, are placed
in his hands as arbitrator. Many involve nice points of law, and require a
written judgment in well-chosen words.
The work of the County Court Judge at the present day is simply enormous;
it is ceaseless and never finished, and it demands a patience which
nothing can ruffle. No matter how much falsehood may annoy him, a Judge
with arbitrary power entrusted to him must not permit indignation alone to
govern his decision. He must make allowances for all.
For the County Court in country districts has become a tribunal whose
decisions enter, as it were, into the very life of the people. It is not
concerned with a few important cases only; it has to arrange and finally
settle what are really household affairs. Take any village, and make
inquiries how many householders there are who have not at one time or
other come under the jurisdiction of the County Court? Either as
Plaintiff, or Defendant, or as witness, almost every one has had such
experience, and those who have not have been threatened with it. Beside
those defended cases that come before the Judge, there are hundreds upon
hundreds of petty claims, to which no defence is offered, and which are
adjudicated upon by the Registrar at the same time that the Judge hears
the defended causes.
The labourer, like so many farmers in a different way, lives on credit and
is perpetually in debt. He purchases his weekly goods on the security of
hoeing, harvest, or piece work, and his wages are continually absorbed in
payment of instalments, just as the tenant-farmer's income is too often
absorbed in the payment of interest and instalments of his loans. No one
seems ever to pay without at least a threat of the County Court, which
thus occupies a position like a firm appointed to perpetually liquidate a
vast estate. It is for ever collecting shillings and half-crowns.
This is one aspect of the County Court; the other is its position with
respect to property. It is the great arbitrator of property--of houses and
land, and deeds and contracts. Of recent years the number of the owners of
land has immensely increased--that is, of small pieces--and the litigation
has correspondingly grown. There is enough work for a man of high legal
ability in settling causes of this character alone, without any 'horse
case' with thirty witnesses, or any dispute that involves the conflict of
personal testimony.