Up before the Beaks
| DOI | 10.1350/jcla.2012.76.1.742 |
| Published date | 01 February 2012 |
| Date | 01 February 2012 |
| Author | David Kirk |
| Subject Matter | Opinion |
OPINION
Up Before the Beaks
David Kirk*
Chief Criminal Counsel, Financial Services Authority
I recently visited the brand-new court centre on the Marylebone Road,
the City of Westminster Magistrates’ Court. This courthouse replaces the
complex in Horseferry Road (a building which I still think of as new,
although in fact it was opened in1974), and will dispense justice in most
criminal cases in central London. First impressions were that it is a very
well-appointed and functional building with ample space and facilities
for the court user.
All criminal cases pass through magistrates’ courts. The vast majority
of them are disposed of before the beaks, who are in many ways the
unsung heroes in the criminal justice system. Magistrates are also a
surprisingly powerful lobby, and the Magistrates’ Association represents
the interests of its members with great tenacity. I recall Law Officers of
the Crown quaking at the prospect of having to address the Annual
Conference of the Magistrates’ Association.
When I first trod the boards as a pupil barrister in the mid-1970s there
were four central London magistrates’ courts—Bow Street, Great Marl-
borough Street, Clerkenwell and Marylebone Road. They were all
crowded, noisy, bustling places with few facilities. As soon as you
entered the court building you were assailed by a sense of feverish
activity as you pushed through the throng to make your way to the cells,
or tried to locate your client by a form of open outcry. If he was in the
cells, you addressed him (and anyone else who happened to be in the
same cell) through the wicket, an aperture which, if memory serves, was
always just too low for comfort. The courtrooms were designed to an
old-fashioned plan, that had the magistrates looking down on proceed-
ings from a frowning dais, and the prisoner in the dock looking up from
behind nothing more secure than an iron railing. Bow Street was the
classic, forming the set for many courtroom dramas both real and
fictional. Bertie Wooster appeared in Bosher Street Magistrates’ Court in
front of Sir Watkyn Bassett, father of the impossibly wet Madeline—‘the
stars are God’s daisy chain’—Bassett. Sir Watkyn fined Bertie £5 for
stealing a policeman’s helmet on Boat Race night. Rather more seri-
ously, William Joyce, Lord Haw Haw, saw the inside of the Bow Street
cells on his way through the justice system towards the gallows. It was
the seat of the Chief Metropolitan Stipendiary Magistrate. This sense of
history was, perhaps, an important element in the majesty of the law
that was dispensed in these surroundings.
* The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily
reflect the views of the Financial Services Authority or the Journal of Criminal Law.
1The Journal of Criminal Law (2012) 76 JCL 1–3
doi:10.1350/jcla.2012.76.1.742
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