The Prisoner at the Bar: Sidelights on the Administration of Criminal Justice

by Arthur Cheney Train

The inordinate number of cases which the magistrates have to dispose of results oftentimes in an inconclusive method of hearing charges of misdemeanors or of felonies, which, if the defendant be held at all, must of necessity be tried in a higher court or, as the magistrates say, "go downtown." If the defendant be a man of some influence, with enough money to retain a boisterous and bully-ragging lawyer, the line of least resistance may lead the judge almost unconsciously to regard the case as having "nothing in it." If, on the other hand, the complainant be a man of independence and insistence, with perhaps a bit of a pull, it is much easier to "hold" a defendant than to assume the responsibility of "turning him out." In point of fact some magistrates are prone to shift the responsibility off their own shoulders and to "hold" anyway. Thus there can be "no kick coming" so far as they are concerned. There are also cases where, rather than take the time for a careful examination of the case, the magistrate will "hold," when, if he had really examined into it with the necessary care, he would find that there was no reasonable ground for his action. Now the grand jury is apt to find an indictment almost as a matter of course, and the defendant must then be placed on trial before a petit jury. In large measure this is the reason why the calendars of the criminal courts are crowded with cases which should never have gone beyond the police court, and why prisoners charged with homicide often lie for months in the Tombs before the petty business of the General Sessions can be cleaned up sufficiently to allow time for their trial. In this way much of the work which should be done by the police judge is cast upon the already over-burdened petit jury. The evil, however, does not stop there. When a petit jury finds that a majority of the cases brought before it have little or no merit it frequently gets the idea that all criminal business is of the same character and that it is empanelled for the purpose of a general jail delivery. After a jury has "turned out" twenty men in succession it can hardly be blamed for thinking that the twenty-first, who may be a real sinner, ought likewise to be sent home with the others to join his family. Respect for law cannot be maintained unless each part of the machine of justice does its full duty and assumes its own burdens and responsibilities.

It goes without saying that no official comes into closer contact with the police than the magistrate. He gets to know them collectively and individually as no other person can. In determining what should be done in any given case he takes largely into consideration the personal equation of the officer making the arrest. He is able to detect exaggerated or manufactured evidence, which might easily pass as truth and perhaps convince a jury in a higher court. Hence one of the arguments for giving him a wider original jurisdiction. Petit juries are ordinarily disinclined to convict and send a man to State's prison in what seems to them trivial cases. If the magistrate had a wider scope in the disposal of such cases one of the principal reasons for our lack of respect for law (the sentimental and arbitrary action of juries) would be largely done away with.

The magistrate, if he be the right kind of a man, can do more real good, right more real wrongs, and exert a more wholesome and salutary influence upon the working people of large cities than any benevolent or charitable association. He can do much to break up the alliance of the police with crime and to prevent arbitrary acts of violence and lawlessness upon their part committed either to compel the payment of blackmail or cover derelictions of duty.

The police judge also soon learns the character of the practitioners who appear so constantly before him. Many a case which on its face seems founded on justice may be shown by a little questioning on the part of the magistrate to be nothing but an attempt to "hold up" or injure the defendant. The quasi-criminal classes know well the power of the criminal law and frequently invite it to secure private vengeance. When two rogues fall out there is often a race to see who can get to the police court first. In other cases the dense ignorance of complainant or defendant renders justice almost impossible. The shyster plays upon this to his profit. There is a story told of a practitioner with a large Italian following who was accustomed to display prominently upon a table in his office a small Testament and a huge Webster's Dictionary. After his clients had stated their case he would turn to them and ask:

"Do you wish the law from the big book or the little book?"

The clients would inquire the relative cost.

"The law from the little book is ten dollars—the law from the big book is twenty-five dollars."

The clients would consult together and on the assumption that the bigger the book the better the law, would almost invariably pay their twenty-five dollars and procure the best advice which Noah Webster could give.

The fact that most police magistrates are appointed for purely political reasons is much to be deprecated. The days of bribery are over, but occasionally the public has some excuse for believing that the desire to do "a favor" for a political friend may have influenced the action of one of them. This would have less color were they usually appointed for some other and better reason than mere party fealty. Ordinarily the appointment goes to some faithful worker, who has won distinction in ward politics. Like enough he may make an excellent judge. At any rate he has a direct personal knowledge of the people with whom he is called to deal. He has equally first-hand information of local conditions and the personnel of the police attached to the neighboring precincts. His judgment is apt to have a practical wisdom that a mere student of law could never achieve. He knows a crooked officer, a crooked lawyer, and a crooked complainant when he sees one. Whatever the verbal testimony happens to be he may very well "know different." He is, as the slang phrase accurately puts it, "wise to his job." And when all is said and done the "influence" exerted upon him will probably be only a request to "Do the best you can for So and So,—he's a friend of mine," which will not affect his action in the least. A college-bred lawyer with no actual knowledge of existing conditions might have the wool pulled over his eyes at every turn, and, while theoretically enforcing the law as it is printed on the statute books, fail utterly to achieve the rough-and-ready justice which the situation demands and which his less educated brethren can dispense by virtue of instinct acquired from long experience. It must be admitted, however, that the system of political appointments is just as bad, if not worse, when applied to police magistracies as when exercised in higher places. The appointees may or may not turn out successfully, and in New York we have had some extraordinary surprises in both directions.

Did space permit a judicious selection of the historic rulings of traditional magistrates would make entertaining reading. One of the most famous was that of a certain learned member of this bench who is said to have discharged a defendant accused of killing a robin in Central Park in the following words: