Book Review: Brief at Court – A Memoir of the Bar

Book Review by Master Tina Landale

Brief at Court: A Memoir of the Bar, by Judge Seán Enright

The funniest memoir I have ever read. This book took over my weekend; I could not put it down. A memoir of the Bar in the last Century in which the author describes his new head of chambers:

‘Bob, solidly built, white hair, red-faced, and reckoned to be a safe pair of hands, but he was always too kind for his own good. Bob defended a robbery at the Bailey and it became obvious after a few days, that a lady juror had taken a fancy to Bob’s robber client. Bob took her down to meet the client in the cells, where a private and mutually satisfactory meeting took place, but somehow the Recorder of London found out. The Recorder was Sir James, who always insisted on high standards, and when this indiscretion came to light, he got his teeth into Bob and never let go. That was the end of Bob’s aspirations for silk, and suddenly, all in chambers were under his little black cloud.’

There were more fundamental problems for young barristers starting out in the law. The profession was governed by privilege and class. The old school tie had a long reach, and the author gives a compelling account of being on the outside and the struggle to get in.

Access to the profession was mirrored by the process of appointment to the Bench, which was no more or less than a tap on the shoulder at a member’s club: the Garrick, the Reform or at Lords. The Circuit Bench and stipes were drawn from narrow demographics and many, scarred by war service, were terrifying.

Working pupils were often all at sea. If you were lucky, you might get the brief the day before, but sometimes ingenuity was needed to get the brief to counsel: the hand over in a layby or a drop off point. Sometimes the brief was just thrown from the train onto a station platform. It was a world untroubled by data protection.

‘Bernie was required to throw the brief onto the platform at Guildford where it would be collected by a member of chambers. He leaned out the window and delivered a perfect lob, the result of long practice, I suspect. But the red ribbon broke on impact and the brief exploded and papers scattered like confetti at a wedding. All this caused a difficulty with British Rail who alleged a breach of some obscure railway regulation …’

Brief at Court, the title of Seán Enright’s book, took me back to far off days when young barristers turned up at court without a clue who they would be representing and why. I quickly realised this book is so much more than a collection of funny stories and missteps in a long legal career. The tone of the book is light but there are hints for young barristers, subtly delivered. For Middle Templars, the author skilfully evokes the haunts and the atmosphere of a bygone age:

‘Life revolved around Middle Temple Lane. Halfway up the cobbled slope was the entrance to the library, the common room, the café and the bar. The bar was run by Jess, an ancient and fierce blue-rinse tyrant who had firm views about everything and women, in particular. As far as she was concerned, the women who frequented Middle Temple Bar fell into two categories: those who were barristers; ‘shouldn’t be allowed’, and those who were not barristers; ‘gold diggers’…’

There was no internet, no laptops, no mobile phones and the profession was run by subtle conventions that were nowhere written down for young barristers, and the challenges for the author came thick and fast:

‘The clerk to chambers, died suddenly and there was a crisis because many of the chambers’ solicitors were his contacts, and they disappeared with him. This was a blow because the people in that set were hard working professionals, but they were also generous and because the widow was broke, chambers stumped up for the funeral.

It should be said that we reclaimed the VAT on the funeral, but this gave rise to a tense meeting between the VAT inspector and the chambers treasurer. It went like this:

“It’s a business expense?” asked the VAT inspector.

“Yes.”

“And it’s wholly and exclusively referable to your business?”

“Of course.”

Our Chambers treasurer was right, of course, but being right was not always enough with the VAT inspectors, who were utterly ruthless.’

The author’s view on the justice system back then was chaotic and barbaric, which generated many miscarriages of justice. The turning points through which the author lived and worked: the creation of the Crown Prosecution Service, the Criminal Cases Review Commission and a system that regulated disclosure in criminal cases. Perhaps most of all, PACE (Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984) which, for the first time brought regulation and transparency to policing. From these events, a fairer and modern justice system emerged. The author’s analysis is personal, has a light touch and makes you laugh out loud.

Those decades witnessed a revolution. Not just a revolution of law and practice, but access to the profession and appointments to the Bench moved towards merit-based selection, and all those barriers of privilege, gender, race, sexual orientation and disability began to fall away. We have come a long way.

The force of this memoir only really becomes apparent in the closing chapters, as the turn of the century approaches. The author has a very easy writing style, drawing in with wit, with reason. As this memoir develops, it challenges the social conventions of the age.

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