Chapter XIV: The Heavy Charge
No, madam, the charge of the judge does not mean his bill for expenses or his salary for trying the case. A charge implies something grave, heavy, and aggressive. It is what the judge tells the jury about the case. It is never light or humorous, but ponderous and hard to understand. The court-room doors are locked, no one must come in or go out during the charge.
The judge looks solemnly at the jury, the jury straighten up from the desponding attitude they gradually have assumed during the address of counsel.
The end is near and they begin to have hope. They appear interested and a gleam of awakened intelligence is in their eyes. Now at least they are going to hear what they wanted to know about the case. The judge will probably tell them something new and clear up the points they did not understand. It may be even he will explain why he made those strange rulings during the trial and what that mysterious conference was when he called the lawyers to his desk and they talked together for so long.
The judge begins: "Gentlemen of the jury, the plaintiff in this case seeks to recover," and then he goes on to tell them what the plaintiff wants, which is just what the plaintiff's lawyer has been telling them. The judge must have been asleep while he was talking for he is saying the same thing over again, only in a little different language. After that the defendant's case is set forth. There again that is what the defendant's lawyer was saying. It does not appear reasonable that they are compelled to hear six times what the case is about. There were the two openings of counsel at the beginning, the two summing up at the end, and now the two explanations of the judge. There ought to be an allowance made for the jury possessing a little intelligence.
The judge then tells again what the witnesses have said, in not quite so many words, but covering the main points. There is no use in that. The jurymen think they ought to remember fairly well what was said. The judge admits it after he is through by saying himself: "Gentlemen, you are to be governed by your own recollection of the testimony rather than by what is said by either side in summing up or by the Court." If he means that he should have kept still and let them have their own recollection.
Then he goes on: "If you believe any witness has wilfully testified falsely as to a material fact, you may disregard that witness's whole testimony." Of course, is that not the reason for their being there? Why, the judge in the beginning made them swear to decide the case "according to the evidence." The jury is going to do exactly that. They are going to decide which side is lying and which side is telling the truth. They are not quite so stupid as not to know that. There seems no need in insulting them by telling them that they need not believe a witness unless they want to. Why are they there?
The judge tells them that the function of the jury is to decide the facts and for him to decide the law. That is fortunate, for they could not understand the law, even if they wanted to; it is a silly business and it is not common sense. What the jury feels is that the judge's charge is leaving it to them without any trouble about the law. But wait a moment, the judge is going on to tell them about the law as applied to the particular facts before them.
The important principle of law they are being told is what is known as the preponderance of evidence and the burden of proof. The judge goes on at great length about the weight of evidence. The weight of evidence, he says, is the preponderance of proof and the preponderance of evidence is the weight of evidence, and the man who has the burden of proof must have the weight of evidence and the weight of evidence being the preponderance of evidence is also upon the man who has the burden of proof. And the preponderance of evidence does not mean proof beyond a reasonable doubt, as in criminal actions, but that the proof must be heavier on one side than the other and the one who has the burden of proof must sustain the preponderance of evidence. That is the law; the judge has said it. What it means the jury give up. The lawyers nod their heads wisely. The judge has stated the law correctly.
The judge may go on a little further and tell them more about the burden of proof and the preponderance of evidence. He may say that the weight of evidence does not mean the number of witnesses. The mere fact that one side has six and the other side only two does not mean that the jury are to believe the side who has six. The jury know that when probably they are all exaggerating somewhat they are going to decide the way the thing happened. Then the judge tells them, having seen the witnesses, "That they may consider their bearing on the stand and their manner of giving testimony." Surely they are going to do that. Is not the best way of knowing whether a man is telling the truth to look at him and watch him while he is talking? There is little sense in the judge advising them to consider his bearing on the stand.
Another thing the judge says is that they are not to be governed by sympathy or prejudice in arriving at their verdict. This is a caution that the judge thinks necessary. He forgets that when they are in the jury-room, with locked doors and no one to disturb them, they are going to do exactly as they are inclined. Prejudice and sympathy are for unintelligent people who do not know what they are about. Both lawyers have been telling the jury what intelligent men they were and it seems unnecessary for the judge to say that they are not to be governed by prejudice and sympathy. Suppose the defendant is a rich corporation, they are not going to find against it because it is rich. The company can stand the loss of a few dollars out of its pocket better than the poor man anyway. Not that they are going to decide for that reason.
As these accumulating evidences of the judge's misunderstanding of their attitude of mind pile up, the jury sink back into their seats. After all, the charge of the judge is not more understandable than most of the other parts of the trial. The saving point about it is that the end is drawing near and they can soon get away and have a smoke in the jury-room, and afterwards go home.
The judge, while he is charging, understands a little of what has been going on in the jury's mind. He has seen the gleam of interest which was in the jury's eyes at the beginning gradually die out. He notices how they fall into resigned attitudes. He has a glimmering that the good old legal aphorisms which he has been enunciating with such care about the burden of proof, the weight of evidence, the credibility of witnesses and the caution about sympathy and prejudice, are not very convincing to the jury. But the conventions require that he must go on.
"Gentlemen," he says, "I must instruct you to eliminate from your minds any discussion of counsel upon questions of law or rulings of the court upon the rejections of testimony, or decisions upon motions to dismiss or direct. They involve matters of law with which you are not at present concerned. In arriving at your verdict you are to consider only the evidence."
Perhaps the judge feels a trifle foolish and therefore he becomes more emphatic and solemn. He carefully and in a painstaking manner defines the law of negligence. He tells them the law of negligence involves two cardinal principles. "The first is that the plaintiff must establish that the defendant by its employees was guilty of negligence, that he failed to act as a prudent and careful man; second, that the plaintiff must have shown himself free from contributory negligence; that unless the jury find both of these, that the plaintiff cannot recover." Then perhaps he interjects a little more about the balance of proof as to these particulars. "If the jury find the plaintiff was negligent and the defendant was negligent, they must find a verdict for the defendant. If they find the plaintiff was not negligent and the defendant was negligent, then they may find a verdict for the plaintiff, provided they find, etc., etc. Otherwise should they find the plaintiff was not negligent and the accident happened not through the negligence of the defendant, then again must they find for the defendant, or again--" but the jury by this time is exhausted. The alternatives do not interest them. The judge may know what he is talking about, but they do not. The interesting question is how much are they going to give the plaintiff.
The judge finally becomes worn out, a kind of self-hypnosis sets in. He remembers so many phrases and legal maxims that he might enunciate, his brain becomes confused as to selection. There are volumes of charges to juries which he has more or less learned by heart. There are so many glittering and vague generalities about the law of negligence, the law of contracts, the law of evidence, the burden of proof, or the weight of testimony, that he could go on indefinitely. The jury have ceased to understand and the judge realizing the hopelessness of this situation, winds up by saying--"So, gentlemen, bearing in mind what I have just told you and the evidence in the case, you will retire and consider your verdict."
The jury begin to gather their hats and coats, when up jumps one of the lawyers and says: "One moment, please. I ask your Honor to charge that if the jury find the cow that was in the plaintiff's garden was a white cow and not a red cow, then their verdict must be for the defendant." "I so charge," says the judge. "I except," says the other lawyer, "and I ask your Honor to charge the jury that if they believe the cow was the property of the defendant, their verdict must be for the plaintiff." "I refuse to charge in those words," says the judge, "there may not have been any cow or he may not have eaten the cabbages." Or the lawyer for the railway may ask the judge, "That if the jury find that the driver was forty feet away from the tracks and the car was a hundred feet away from the corner of Seventy-eighth Street when he first saw the car, and the car was going at a rapid rate and the conductor pulled the bell and the driver was sitting on the right-hand side of the wagon and might have seen the car had the car been one hundred feet below the corner, then in that event I ask your Honor to instruct the jury that the plaintiff was guilty of contributory negligence and cannot recover."
The question is undoubtedly a poser. The judge is evidently worried; if he make a wrong guess and says "yes" or "no" at this juncture, the appellate court may say: "Error, judgment reversed, new trial ordered." What happens is that the judge takes a chance. The lawyer says, "I refer you to 169 New York Court of Appeals Reports, page 492; in the case of Jones _vs._ Metropolitan, the court there said that the refusal to so charge was reversible error." The judge looks wise and finally says, "yes." There is a little playing of politics in this; he has possibly been thinking how the jury are going to decide and realizing that what he charges won't make any difference, he plays safe by charging what the losing side wants.
These requests to charge may go back and forth indefinitely with rulings and exceptions. Either lawyer may except to a portion of the judge's charge, thus serving notice upon him that unless he hurry up and change it he may be reversed on appeal. That is the reason why the charge of the judge has not a great effect. He has to be too careful.
In New York State the judge can not say what he thinks about the case. In other words, the charge must be indefinite. In England and the Federal courts in this country, the judge may legally express his opinion as to how the case should be decided, but that is as far as he can go. The distinction is a relic of the old days of the jury system when the judges would imprison the jury until they found as was wanted. Now the judge may only express a preference and the jury may do as they please. In some courts the democratic idea of the independence of the juryman goes to the extent of not allowing the judge to say anything specific.
The result is that the jury are confused. They are usually of so independent a nature that the judge's charge would not greatly influence them. The clients sit by utterly confounded; they hear the judge wisely say, "I think perhaps yes, but on the whole it may be no," and when he is through, not understanding as much as the jury, they think the judge's charge is very fair. Having said little of import it probably is.
The continental method is so entirely different, that it is shocking. In the courts in France the judge practically says for his charge, "You've heard the evidence, now go on out and do what's right." This again illustrates the difference between the old and the new ideas of courts. The old is a battle ground where the issues are defined, the courts are kept within narrow limits and the rules of the ordeal observed strictly, and the modern, merely an investigation of a dispute with the glamor of a contest left out. It is an investigation of facts, which however bitter may be the personal animosity, should never lose sight of the main idea of arriving at the plain truth, in a common sense way.
At last the lawyers are silent, the trial is over, the judge patiently asks are there any more requests to charge, and there being no more, he turns to the jury and says, "Gentlemen, you will retire and consider your verdict." Slowly they file out, conducted by the court attendant, to the jury-room.
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The Man in CourtChapter XIV: The Heavy Charge
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