Half a century ago, being ignorant children, my fellow articled clerk and I were indignant when we were summoned to our respective principals’ offices and told not to help the porters open the post in the library.
We had just pitched up and thought they needed a hand. This continued for several days before we were told to desist. It was kind of us, but not part of our (ill-defined) duties.
Later it became apparent that not even the assistant solicitors, let alone the managing clerks, were allowed near the library during opening hours. It was only when I moved to Simpson’s practice that I learned how justified the partners had been.
Not all firms took such a sensible and strict view. One I knew had a much more relaxed – perhaps cavalier – attitude. Criticism by other solicitors was regarded as something of a badge of pride. Letters were marked as for a cricket score. A letter which began ‘We are surprised not to have had a reply…’ scored one or two runs. Something stronger such as ‘astounded’ was worth a boundary four. ‘Unless we receive a reply by return we shall have no alternative…’ scored six. With the last letter opened, scores were totalled. Shortly after, the partner told me this firm had closed.
Another nagging concern for any partner is the over-loyal employee. The person who is first in the office every day; who never leaves until everyone else has gone home; who never takes a holiday; who lives at home with their elderly mother. Simpson, my second pupil master, had a particular rival among the local solicitors and rather fancied poaching a paragon who boasted all these qualities. It was only when the man developed measles in middle age that a cupboard in his room was opened and out fell bundles of unstamped conveyances and mortgages. But even partners can be dangerous. Years later, Simpson took a partner – with a view to succession – who was just that. It came to light only when the local registrar put a stop to a remarriage. The partner had faked divorce papers. The cupboard door flew open; the partner received a suspended sentence; Simpson paid the debts, and sold what was left of his practice.
James Morton is a writer and former criminal defence solicitor
