In these dark and unforgiving times, a little humor is needed. A classic book, found in many editions, is A.P. Herbert, Uncommon Law (1935). Some American works have assumed that it was a collection of genuine (but unusual) court decisions and transcripts. But it is pure fantasy, with gentle mockery of many quirks of litigation. Some elements are old-fashioned; but puffed-up pointless cross-examination isn’t.
The book has dozens of odd legal fantasies. To intrigue you, here are a few snippets from one of its chapters.
“... there were some sharp exchanges between Sir Ethelred Rutt and Sir Humphrey Codd, in which both the famous advocates constantly thumped on the desk, raised their eyebrows, and blew their noses. Sir Ethelred’s brief is marked four thousand pounds, with ‘refreshers’ of two hundred pounds a day, and it is the general opinion in legal circles that the case will never finish. Had the defendant company been unable to secure his services, it is calculated that the case would have been clearly intelligible from the beginning, and in all probability would have been concluded in a day.”
. . .
“The Judge: Without anticipating anything I may have to say at a later stage, and subject to anything which may be disclosed in evidence next year, and bearing in mind the relations of the parties, and without prejudice to the issue of forgery, and prima facie and status quo, and not forgetting the Boat Race, I think it right to say that so far as I understand the law (and, of course, I am a mere child in sir Ethelred’s hands) I shall at a suitable moment be prepared to say that the question is relevant and should be answered, subject to the consideration that this sentence has now continued so long that it may be arguable that the law has altered in the meantime.”
. . .
“Sir Ethelred: I put it to you that the suggestion I have put to you is consistent with the hypothesis that the answers you have given are easily distinguishable from the true facts? Yes or No?”
. . .
“Sir Ethelred: ... Did you stay at the Grand Hotel Palermo, in September 1911 with a woman purporting to be your wife?
Witness: Yes
Sir Ethelred: Was she your wife?
Witness: Yes.
Sir Ethelred: On the evening of the 11th of September were you in your private room with a woman?
Witness: Very likely.
Sir Ethelred: Be careful, Mr. Stanley--the house was being watched you know. At nine p.m. did you draw the blinds in your private room?
Witness: Very likely.
Sir Ethelred: Ah! So you drew the blinds? Will you tell the court and jury why you drew the blinds?
Witness: To annoy the watchers.”
. . .
. . .
“Sir Ethelred: Would it surprise you to learn that this letter which you wrote on the 30th May is in your own handwriting? Yes or No?
Witness: No.”
. . .
“Sir Ethelred: At Palermo, in September, there would be good sea-bathing?
Witness: Yes
Sir Ethelred: Would it be fair to say that you bathed at Palermo?
Witness: Yes
Sir Ethelred: In company with this woman who accompanied you?
Witness: Yes.
Sir Ethelred: Mixed bathing?
Witness: Certainly. My wife is a woman.
Sir Ethelred: Of course, Mr. Moss, I don’t suggest that there is anything wrong in mixed bathing.
Witness: Then why did you refer to it?
Sir Ethelred: Milord, I claim the protection of the Court.
The Judge: Mr. Moss, I am here to protect learned counsel, and I will not have them insulted. It is little I am allowed to do in these proceedings, but at least I can do that. Sir Ethelred is paid a great deal of money for cross-examining you, and the longer he cross-examines you the longer will the case continue and the more will Sir Ethelred be paid. It is therefore very selfish of you to take the bread out of his mouth by objecting to his little excursions into fancy. Moreover, he has the mind of a child, and has not the least idea how people really behave. He gets his ideas from French plays and detective stories, and you must admit that he is most entertaining. Moreover, he is very sensitive, so please answer his questions kindly, and don’t upset him.”
The Expert Witness Case (Carrot v. Guano Assn.)
– Hon. J.E. Côté
