Free Brothers In Law by Henry Cecil Page A

Bolster a red bag, Ernie?” he says over the third pint. “I’ll try, old boy,” says Ernest. And if Ernest tries the answer is probably “yes.” It’s a funny custom. The only people who make anything out of it really are the people who make the bags. But it’s a sort of milestone in a chap’s career. The day he gets his red bag. You certainly won’t find your way to the Woolsack without one.’
    They discussed the other milestones in a career at the Bar; then they talked about County Courts.
    â€˜What’s this judge like?’ asked Roger.
    â€˜Well, fortunately,’ said Henry, ‘there aren’t any others like him today. I don’t mean by that that he’s a bad judge. He isn’t. But he’s very inconsiderate. Furthermore, he’s peppery, pompous and conceited, but he’s quite a good judge for all that, though not as good as he thinks he is. Incidentally, one of the funniest things I ever heard happened in front of him. Like to hear?’
    â€˜That’s one of the reasons I’ve come,’ said Roger.
    â€˜Charles told you that, I suppose,’ said Henry, and they both laughed.
    There were three main characters in the story which Henry told Roger. The first was a barrister called Galloway, a well-intentioned, very serious and literally-minded man. The second was a former County Court judge called Musgrave.
    â€˜He’s dead now,’ said Henry. ‘He was a nice old boy and quite a good judge when he tried a case, but he was a wicked old man and wouldn’t sit after lunch. There aren’t any others like him today, either.’
    â€˜What d’you mean?’ asked Roger.
    â€˜What I say. He wouldn’t sit after lunch. He spent part of the morning either making people settle cases or adjourning them for one reason or another and finally he tried what was left and rose at lunchtime. Very rarely he came back after lunch, but, usually he made some excuse for postponing any case which hadn’t finished by lunchtime until another day. I liked him, but he certainly was naughty. Well, one day Galloway had a case in front of Musgrave. It was an accident case which would have been likely to occupy a considerable part of the day. The judge had a medical referee sitting beside him to advise. When I say sitting, well, it was arranged that he should sit. The only question in the case was whether a man’s illness had been caused by the accident, but a good deal of evidence would have had to be given about it. Before the judge sat he sent for the doctors who were being called on each side and told them to have a word with the medical referee. After they’d had a chat for ten minutes or so, the judge went in to see them himself. Five minutes later he came into Court, sat down and announced that there would be judgment in the case for the defendants with costs.
    â€˜â€œBut–” said the unfortunate Galloway, who was appearing for the plaintiff.
    â€˜â€œBut what?” said the judge, quite severely.
    â€˜â€œBut–” repeated Galloway.
    â€˜â€œIf that’s all you have to say, Mr Galloway, I’ll have the next case called,” and this was duly done.
    â€˜Well, of course, the plaintiff wasn’t going to take that lying down. His case had never been tried. The judge had no doubt acted upon what the doctors had told him behind closed doors. It was a complete denial of justice. So the plaintiff appealed to the Court of Appeal and Galloway started to tell their Lordships all about it. He hadn’t gone very far with the story before the president of the Court, Lord Justice Brand, said: “It’s very difficult to believe that this really happened. Naturally, I’m not doubting your word, Mr Galloway, but how can it have happened as you say without your saying something to the judge?”
    â€˜â€œI did say something, my Lord.”
    â€˜â€œOh – what