As Lord Brampton pointed out in his Reminiscences, the judges in mid-Victorian days were afraid to trust their own judgment in matters of handwriting, and powers almost occult were ascribed to the expert, who, after all, only uses ordinary scientific methods.
The true function of the handwriting expert is to act as a sign-post to the jury. His observation has been trained to notice minute points of resemblance and difference, and he is thus in a position to point out in what respect and to what extent two handwritings resemble one another or differ, and it is then for the jury to draw their own conclusions from the facts laid before them.
It is now no uncommon occurrence for a judge in summing up a case to the jury to emphasise the point that the evidence of the expert is only a matter of opinion, and that the real decision rests with them. In this way it is possible for the judge to correct the too decided statement of opinion which the expert is sometimes, under stress of cross-examination, forced to give.
Netherclift, who was the chief expert in the days when Lord Brampton was at the bar, had such faith in his methods that finally he came to believe that he could never make a mistake.
This belief received an amusing check in a case in which he was under cross-examination by Lord Brampton (then Mr. Hawkins).
Netherclift had claimed that his system gave infallible results, and had further stated that his son, whom he had trained, made use of the same system.
“Then,” said the wily advocate, “your son working on your system is as good as you are?”
“Yes,” replied the father with some pride in his voice, “he is.”
“That is to say, he, too, is infallible?”
“Yes,” again replied the witness.