A very legal Monday

I have had less extraordinary Mondays. The swearing in of the new chief justice at the Royal Courts of Justice and the opening of the legal year at Westminster Abbey were witnessed by yours truly yesterday - though that wasn’t a requisite of the events - all before lunchtime.

By 8.30am I was in an already full, and still filling, Court 4 at the RCJ. I’d had to collect my name badge, just a slip of paper (nice paper, mind). Assigned seating was a first for me but it was a day of firsts.

Assigned to seat 4, I settled in before finally looking at the name on the paper. Bianco Castro, Law Gazette. I presumed it’s me. I haven’t met a colleague with my moniker in the masculine. It’s not the first time I’ve been referred to as Bianco and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I shrugged it off: today’s not about me – or Bianco.

The swearing in of lady chief justice Carr started right on time and the atmosphere in the court, where it was standing room only, was jovial. Lord chancellor Alex Chalk's speech elicited the loudest and longest laughs, including one from Carr herself, as he recalled an online murder mystery Christmas party: ‘Her cross examination of witnesses was thorough. I understand terrifying was the actual word.’

Well-received speeches from the master of the rolls Sir Geoffrey Vos, Law Society president Lubna Shuja and bar chair Nick Vineall filled most of the rest of the 50-minute ceremony.

Surprisingly, apart from the oaths, Carr herself did not speak on the momentous occasion. I didn’t dwell on it too long though as Westminster Abbey was next on the programme. The abbey didn’t disappoint. It is impressive, as it was built to be, and it was hard to take everything in, especially when you’re there for work and not for fun (not that openings of legal years aren’t fun of course). The grandeur of the abbey was made slightly surreal by a sea of wigged and robed arrivals.

The procession was a long one, lasting some 20 minutes before everyone was seated and the service began. This would be a good point to digress into arguments about church and state, but I’ll simply note that the tradition dates back to the Middle Ages when judges prayed for guidance at the start of the legal term. The Westminster Abbey service dates from 1897 and there has been a ceremony almost every year since.

Chalk gave a reading of Proverbs 8: 1-17 - 'Does not wisdom call' - as did Carr, her first public 'speech' since becoming LCJ. She chose Philippians 4: 4-9 'Let your gentleness be known to everyone...'.

The Reverend Robin Griffith-Jones, master of the Temple, welcomed '65 national bar leaders from more than 35 jurisdictions' to 'this unforgettable service'.

He said: 'Hundreds of people gathered here who have dedicated their lives to service of the law. This morning should surely be a time of thanks. Thanks from us to the legal community on behalf of the millions and millions of citizens around the world who depend on you for law and liberty.'

In his speech, he also gave a very interesting titbit of information that I plan to trot out at every possible opportunity to make myself sound smarter than I am. According to Griffith-Jones, our Royal Courts of Justice were built on the old jousting grounds of the Knights Templar. Very apt.

Griffith-Jones also gave ‘two special thanks’ including one to Carr’s predecessor. ‘Six years Lord Burnett has served as lord chief justice,' he said. 'Turbulent times [but] all dealt with good grace. In the first lockdown, Lord Burnett led our whole court system online within days. On all sides, it is said Lord Burnett that we all owe you more than we will ever know. Thank you from us for the last six years.’

Of Lady Carr, he said: ‘Known to many of us, [she] is hugely admired by all. We give thanks for your appointment [and] for all the work that will follow.’

Some additional prayers followed, a hymn (the lady behind me sang beautifully which was a nice bonus), then a blessing and the national anthem.

Everyone stood as the judges filed out, taking less time than for filing in. Perhaps the prospect of the lord chancellor’s breakfast put a spring in their step? Sadly I wasn’t invited to that so, after making my way out of the abbey, I headed toward the small crowds that had convened by the barriers closing the road.

It was an experience I won’t forget. It felt a little like I was walking off a film set and back to normality where people were wearing baseball caps rather than horsehair wigs and sporting clothes of all manners of colours rather than the regal red, black and gold robes that had just surrounded me.

It added to the strangeness when a judge, seemingly out of nowhere, appeared and tourists were quick to corner him and ask for a photo. He happily obliged and I was walking away as a family of six surrounded him and smiled for the camera. 

‘That’s great, that’s really good,’ I overheard a woman say as she showed her friend the picture. ‘You don’t see that every day.’