The Law and I: 44 Years in Litigation

By John Clarke

Delve into the riveting memoir of an attorney who navigated the transformative world of litigation law in private practice. Journey back to an era when senior partners donned wing collars and were addressed as clerks by their surnames, and when solicitors weren’t confined to specialisations.

Experience the spectrum of clients he represented, from navigating harrowing cases at police stations – covering everything from murders to activists challenging government departments – all the way to the House of Lords, now known as the Supreme Court.

Beyond the courtroom, he shares insights into his dealings with prisoners, including those under maximum security, managing matters from adjudications to parole requests. Simultaneously, he paints a picture of his life outside the law, tending to an 18-acre smallholding.

As he reflects on his career, the author offers a poignant commentary on the evolving landscape of legal practice, weighing in on the advancements and setbacks since his retirement. This is not just a tale of law but of resilience, adaptability, and profound change.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Nov 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781035816453

John Clarke

John Clarke has been involved in anti-poverty struggles since he helped to form a union of unemployed workers in London, Ontario, in 1983. He is a founding member of the Ontario Coalition Against Poverty (OCAP) and worked as one of its organizers from 1990 to 2019. He is currently the Packer Visitor in Social Justice at York University in Toronto.

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About the Author

John Clarke practiced as a litigation solicitor for 44 years, beginning as an articled clerk in Westminster and later working in Brighton, King’s Lynn, and Wisbech. He specialized in Criminal and Prison Law for 37 of those 44 years. Additionally, he managed an 18-acre smallholding while maintaining his legal practice.

Dedication

DEDICATED to my patient wife and all the long-suffering secretaries who had to type all the witness statements and deal with the multitude of complaining clients.

Copyright Information ©

John Clarke 2023

The right of John Clarke to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

All of the events in this memoir are true to the best of author’s memory. The views expressed in this memoir are solely those of the author.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781035816439 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035816446 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781035816453 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

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Synopsis of Book

This is a narrative of my 44 years as a lawyer from training in a firm with an ancient telephone exchange in the centre of London in 1970, where the senior partner had a wing collar—the firm acting for the Church Commissioners. My route to a litigation practice in Brighton to advising and litigating for life sentence prisoners incarcerated at the highest security prison of Whitemoor in Cambridgeshire.

In-between, I acted for clients suing different government departments, one case leading to a ‘House of Lords’ decision. The narrative has stories of difficult clients and their unusual cases and problems I had with Judges.

I include my family background of lawyers, I had to live up to my great grandfather, Sir Edward Clarke who defended Oscar Wilde and my father who Judged Nazi civilians in Brunswick in 1945, became a barrister and then a Judge at the Old Bailey. During the last 35 years, I also ran an 18-acre smallholding as well as being a full-time litigation solicitor, which attracted the more eccentric clients.

The book ends with my personal conclusions as to the changes in practice, moral and attitudes of solicitors and the law over the 44 years.

1. Starting work

I stood in Victoria Gardens overlooking the Thames. It was a Monday morning on 21 September, 1970. I was 23. Ten minutes to go and I’d have to walk to 10 Little College Street. I peered at the Thames flowing slowly past and wondered if my tie was straight.

My wife of 10 days (we had married 10 days ago, against my father’s wishes) had just dropped me off and had taken our motorbike to where she was working in London. This was my first day of work in the law and to be honest, I had no idea what to expect.

I had 8 minutes to go but I didn’t want to be late or early—just on time. I wore my new pin stripe suit, I had bought for my wedding, shoes polished, hair straight. So, I crossed the road, walked past the Rodin sculpture I would see daily for the next two years and into the entrance of 10 Little College Street. I noticed on the door was a shiny brass plate, Radcliffes & co. it announced. I was to work here as an articled clerk for 2 years, the compulsory period with a solicitor’s firm for those who had done a law degree which I had.

So I had landed. I wasn’t nervous about going to university and being introduced to law there, but I was nervous about going to Radcliffes. Once again, I surprise myself now that I never was interviewed by the partners or saw any of them before I started. I didn’t make my own decision about whether I would like to go there. But I had no guide as to what to look for and how to be critical. My father, a Judge, had set it up for me, but the partners never saw me.

I was early on my first day, and waited in Victoria Park next to the House of Lords before I appeared for duty at this awe-inspiring solicitors’ office right at 9 a.m. across the road from the House of Lords.

I really forget those few hours after I walked into those offices. I was introduced to a South African called Mr S a partner who was meant to look after me; his office didn’t look very legal-like. It had ghastly hidden lights behind a curtain. I nodded to him and then I was ushered up to the Trust department on the top floor where I worked the first day if you can call it that, and then for the first 6 months.

I rarely met Mr S who I was articled to and should therefore have supervised my training. Well, I was articled to him but I hardly ever met him. I was put at a desk on my first day with a pencil and a bit of paper and left there.

It was up to kind-hearted, obedient Clerks who were poorly paid to sort me out and there were several of those Dickensian figures. They were relied on to earn the money for the partners, while the partners all gathered in the partner’s room each afternoon round a green baize table where they signed the post offered up to them by the clerks.

The firm’s telephone exchange just inside the front entrance to Radcliffes was the old plug-in type.

Down in the basement was the strong room manned by two men in brown sober functional coats, a storage for deeds and black deeds boxes with names of executors and deceased people carefully hand painted on them in italic white paint.

So, what did I do? I didn’t do much training as such and there was no monitoring of the progress of my understanding of the law I was involved with.

First, I had to draft my articles. I had not been taught at university how to do that; I had to use my initiative and ask another articled clerk or a clerk keeping out of the way of the partners. I just copied someone else’s deed.

I didn’t see much of the partners. I started in the Trust department. It managed very rich people’s Trusts by being in touch with stockbrokers and buying and selling shares through them. The partners were usually Trustees of such trusts nominated by themselves when drawing up the wills that created the trusts. They also gave themselves pecuniary legacies of £100 in the wills, which was a lot of money in those days. The firm also gave themselves the right to charge for just being Executors (as well as their firm charging for proving the will after the death). The Trust department was not too bad. I was in a room with other clerks and I think the secretaries liked the young men there. The firm had about 7 or 8 articled clerks but I didn’t socialise with them outside the office.

However, I did visit one secretary at her flat because I volunteered to clear her garden. Did she dupe me into doing this? Did she have designs on me? I was very naïve. I still socialised occasionally with old school friends but they slowly dwindled from my social sphere.

There was one articled clerk I got friendly with and went to dinner at