The square after Piccadilly on the Monopoly board isGO TO JAIL. The accompanying picture may show a police officer blowing a whistle but the person who actually sends you to jail is a judge in a court room, so today's post is about criminal courts in London.
Supreme Court
Top of the heap is the Supreme Court which is based in the former Middlesex Guildhall in Parliament Square. It hears civil and criminal cases and was established as recently as 2009. It also has fabulous carpets as I once discovered on an Open House visit. Had you been there yesterday you could have heard the judges ruling on the Dartmoor 'right to roam' case, but that's civil rather than criminal so I didn't go there.
Court of Appeal
Second in the pyramid is the Court of Appeal based at the Royal Courts of Justice in the Strand. It too hears civil and criminal cases and was established in 1875. Again it's a fabulous place to visit for Open House should you ever get the chance. Courts 6, 7 and 8 were in operation yesterday hearing cases including "Application for leave to appeal against a confiscation order" and "Pronouncement of an application for leave to appeal to the Supreme Court". They didn't appeal so I didn't go there either.
Crown Courts Second tier: Central Criminal Court (the Old Bailey) Third tier: Croydon, Harrow, Inner London (Newington), Isleworth, Kingston, Snaresbrook, Southwark, Wood Green, Woolwich
My photo shows Snaresbrook Crown Court which is the busiest Crown Court in the UK handling over 7000 cases a year. It's based in the former Wanstead Infant Orphan Asylum, a truly Gothic pile which later became Royal Wanstead School before being converted into a Crown Court in 1974. It's set in lovely lakeside grounds, which helped when they needed space to add a five-court annexe in 1988. I got as far as the front steps but decided against going in and taking a seat in a public gallery to watch heaven knows what.
Magistrates' Courts North: Barkingside, City of London, Ealing, Hendon, Highbury Corner, Romford, Stratford, Thames (Bow), Uxbridge, Westminster, Willesden South: Belmarsh, Bexley, Bromley, Croydon, Lavender Hill, Wimbledon
All criminal cases start out at a Magistrates' court, although many are passed up to Crown Courts sharpish. There are no juries here, only JPs, who can hand out sentences of up to twelve months or dole out fines. My photo shows Thames Magistrates Court on Bow Road because that's the one I've walked past thousands of times without ever going inside. Maybe I will one day, hopefully of my own volition, but I wasn't convinced observing the reprobates before the bench would be overly enlightening. So I went somewhere much more famous.
This is the Old Bailey, or to give it its official title the Central Criminal Court of England and Wales. It hears criminal cases from the London area as well as anything important that gets passed its way, often the biggest cases of the day. And anyone over the age of 14 is allowed to go inside, take a seat inside a courtroom and observe proceedings, so I did. But it isn't necessarily easy. Visitors face airline-style security on the way in, obviously, but additional strict rules require that "Cameras, Recording Equipment, Radios and Telephones" are not permitted. This means you can't turn up with a mobile phone on your person, nor is there anywhere to deposit one, and it did feel strange travelling from home with an empty pocket. The list of unacceptables also includes food, sweets, liquids, perfumes and large bags, plus (in a relatively recent update) vapes, smartwatches and Fitbits, so do check carefully first.
The Old Bailey has 18 courts spread across three floors. The first four are the ornate historic ones, these where the larger cases are heard, and are accessed via the main on-street entrance. But I skipped those in favour of the other fourteen, these stacked up in a 1970s annexe built on the site of Newgate Prison, because these offered a wider range of cases to observe. Their entrance is tucked away in Warwick Passage, a weekdays-only alleyway which passes underneath the court building, and which also tends to gather a smaller queue than the biggie round the front. It's not a particularly nice place to wait, especially without the distraction of a phone to scroll through, but at least it's dry if it rains. The red CLOSED light above the door is switched off at 10am when the door quietly opens (and turned on again at 12.40pm before lunch and 3.40pm before the end of the day).
The public entrance, quite frankly, is not up to a decent standard. Expect to hold the door open for whoever's behind you in the queue. Expect to wait at the foot of the staircase until called up, individually. Expect to turn your pockets out and maybe even remove your shoes at the top of the stairs, because none of this security was foreseen in the 1970s so they've had to squeeze the detector arch onto the first floor landing. Don't expect a waiting room, everyone gets to linger on one of three tiny landings or in the stairwell until called through into the appropriate corridor. And don't expect any obvious indication of what case is in what court, they mostly expect you to know in advance, which it turns out family members/friends/acquaintances of the accused generally do.
So which courtroom to visit? The day's cases at the Old Bailey are postedonline, generally a day in advance, so you can scan down in advance and see what takes your fancy. Blimey, I thought, it's that case that's been in the news, and that other case that's been in the news, and another, and another... though never for a good reason. It thus feels a bit odd waiting on the landing alongside those with a particular interest in each case (Dad? Grandma? gang boss?), especially when you don't have a smartphone and have subsequently forgotten precisely what's on where. I felt like a complete impostor and somewhat reticent to tie my colours to one particular case, but the court official swiftly spotted I was here as an independent observer and offered a couple of options - "ABH or attempted murder?" And then I was ushered inside.
It looks just like it does on the telly only with more people in the room. A long bench for the judge, a bank of desks for the barristers, a couple of rows for the jury and a glass box for the accused. The public gallery meanwhile hangs above it all, concealing where the witnesses sit underneath, although you're no longer allowed to sit in the front row I presume for security reasons. Observers are also expected to sit quietly and not make any kind of obvious movement, and to stick around for at least half an hour, so an usher sits up the far end to keep an eye. I wish I hadn't unintentionally sat on the slightly squeaky seat. I've done juryservice before so this wasn't all new to me but it was interesting to observe the discussions the judge and officials have before the twelve jurors filed in. All rise!
I'd turned up mid-trial during quite a complicated case, which was a bit like starting to watch a crime drama at episode three. I still don't know precisely what the accused did, only what the outcome was because I spent my morning listening to the testimony of an expert witness. They were utterly professional and very explicit as they addressed their comments to the jury and educated them on a particular topic as applied specifically to this case. I learned plenty. The prosecution lawyer was meticulous, her questioning style providing clarity, whereas the defence lawyer who followed was showier and it was hard to see what his point was. I enjoyed the moment where he mis-addressed the judge and she threw back a jokey barb and all the courtiers laughed.
But gosh it's slow work. The accused had already been here for days and faced several more, their boredom plain to see as the minutiae of their alleged handiwork was picked over. Punishment, it seems, starts long before sentencing. But they did have a tablet to fiddle with, indeed everyone in the court appeared to have a laptop or tablet, essentially to swipe through several pages of evidence and to make notes on. We spent a very long time looking at the images on page 81, then page 82, then going back to scrutinise page 81 again, all additionally displayed on screens around the court so everyone could see. Technology has certainly moved on since I sat on the jury benches with a pad of paper.
I was struck by quite how many people were needed to keep the show on the road. The bank of bewigged barristers outnumbered the jury, for example, despite only two of them having anything to contribute during the morning session. Everyone has to be present for everything, however long it lasts, which ties up a vast amount of expertise (and salaries) potentially for no reward. At one point the judge admitted that the Old Bailey has staffing problems at present and they were having to shuffle personnel around, which meant not every trial was proceeding as expected. Given how long ago the crime under her scrutiny had originated, it seemed evident that our legal system is struggling to move forward at a reasonable rate.
As the digital clock on the judge's bench ticked round towards 1pm, the stomach of the man sitting behind me in the gallery started rumbling uncontrollably. The defence lawyer apologised for not quite finishing with the expert witness, who'd now need to come back after lunch, and negotiations then took place regarding how many of the afternoon's potential witnesses could be realistically called. I spotted the accused yawning again before the call went up to clear the public gallery and I was back out again on the institutional staircase. I have no idea whether they'll ultimately be found guilty, nor did I feel the need to come back and sample more. But I was reassured that the Central Criminal Court is painstakingly picking through some of the more heinous cases our legal system has to offer, and if you want to go and see it happening then anybody can.
