The golden years of law

Peter Carter-Ruck looks back at the last 50 years of law and assesses whether the profession was better off in the days of waistcoats and pinstripes

I shall never forget 1952.

The momentous event was the death of George VI and the ascent to the throne of Elizabeth II.

I had taken a week's leave to complete the first edition of Libel and Slander.

My wife came into my study to say that the King had died.

We were both in tears.

King George VI had reigned for 15 years, much of which was during the war, with great courage.

How different was legal London then.

The offices of my four-partner firm were in what was then an important part of legal London - Surrey Street, Norfolk Street, Arundel Street, Essex Street and Howard Street - the preserve of many leading firms, lying between the Strand and the Embankment.

How different were the offices from today? Few had a boardroom, so partners had to keep their offices tidy for seeing clients.

Paper had not yet started to proliferate.

I used to take Law Notes monthly, with 25 pages, to keep up to date, compared with the monthly Current Law today, with more than 400 pages.

The Gazette, almost as brief as Law Notes, was published monthly.

In 1952, there were only 20 new statutes compared with 53 in 1996.

An income tax return was a few pages, compared with the 77-page 'Employers Pack' I have just received from the Inland Revenue.

There were few copying machines.

To take a copy you first placed the paper in a printer, then the copy in a fixing tray, then into a cleaning tray and, finally, in a flat-bed heated drier.

Three copies were taken of every letter typed; one for the office letter book, one for the file and one for the costs clerk.

The dictating machines recorded onto a plastic drum, which was collected by the secretary and re-shaved for use again.

We certainly worked hard and, on occasions, my secretary, on a manual typewriter, would produce 40 letters in a day.

There were few articled clerks and no legal executives, and the managing clerk reigned supreme.

Our managing clerk, who had lost a leg in the First World War, looked after personal injury work, conveyancing was done by one partner, and the rest was handled mainly by myself - whether it was divorce, probate, trust, wills, commercial litigation, company formation or libel and copyright.

And how different were the disciplines of those days? I never went to court, even to appear before a master, without a black jacket, waistcoat, striped trousers, and stiff collar and tie.

I saw one solicitor reprimanded by the master for being without a waistcoat.

Our managing clerk was addressed by everyone as 'Mr Hill' - only secretaries were known by their Christian names.

Lunch, when without a client, for me involved going to a local hotel each day, for which the charge was 1s 9d for three courses, unlike today when you see partners queuing in Prt--Manger to buy their sandwiches.

Loyalty to one's firm was almost universal.

There were rarely any changes and it was almost unheard of for a partner to jump ship and join another practice.

Life was more formal but, in many ways, more friendly, more relaxed and more congenial.

The secretary often had either a room on her own or worked with one other.

I welcome every innovation in technology, though many firms have failed to reap its advantages.

I used to expect a reply to letters in three to four days but now, even with fax and e-mail, I often have to send reminders and wait up to a fortnight for replies.

My regret is of the inexcusable proliferation of legislation and printed matter, and the size - and therefore the lack of personal individuality - of some of the large London firms.

We are tending to lose an important part of our community, the family solicitor to complement the family doctor.

See Feature

Peter Carter-Ruck is a media and trust consultant at Pellys, Bishop's Stortford