THE last words in a chapter of Southampton’s legal history were written in midsummer 1933 with the closure of its unique court house.

The Bargate, used for centuries as the site for the town’s Quarter Sessions, heard its last cases before business was formally transferred to the new Civic Centre.

They were only two prisoners, one indicted for shop and office breaking and the other for burglary. With both men expected to plead guilty, it had been deemed unnecessary to summon the Grand Jury, though a petty jury was waiting in case either changed his mind and denied the offences.

In keeping with the occasion, there was a colourful scene as the Recorder, P F M Schilledr, was met at the West Station – now the Central Station – by the Mayor, Cllr W D Buck and other dignitaries, before being driven in an open carriage with an escort of mounted police officers.

In the first case, James Carr, a 27- year-old labourer, however, caused a complication in the proceedings when he admitted entering the Surrey Hotel in Queen’s Terrace, the home of Edwin Jones, but without intent to steal.

“That is tantamount to pleading not guilty,” the judge ruled.

“Certainly,” agreed prosecutor Walter Lloyd who, in the absence of witnesses, decided to proceed by reading the depositions.

The judge considered that was an unsatisfactory course to take and asked how long it would take to get witnesses to court.

Mr Lloyd had a brief conversation with Detective Inspector Percy Chatfield, the officer in the case, and then informed the court: “I understand that Mr Lewis, the licencee of the Surrey Hotel, is taking advantage of not being wanted and is elsewhere at the time.”

That turned out to be Goodwood races!

The court then consulted law books before it was accepted Mr Lloyd could proceed by using just the statements. Carr was then asked whether he wanted to change his plea. He replied he did not, and the prosecution accepted it.

The court then heard how Carr had entered the hotel with a kitchen knife and wearing women’s gloves to prevent leaving his fingerprints behind, but his luck ran out.

He had expected the publican to be out all night but he unexpectedly returned within minutes of leaving and found the intruder standing in the middle of the dining room.

Carr immediately confessed: “I’m caught.” Then he poetically added: “Satan finds work for idle hands to do.”

Carr pleaded for a chance before the judge. “I swear I will never steal anything again. I have a good chance of a job in the north if I can get there.”

The Recorder acceded, binding him over for two years.

Less fortunate was the other prisoner, Edward Hunt, 30, who the judge regarded as “an out and out criminal and a cunning one”.

The judge denounced the slater after he had admitted burgling a house in Shakespeare Avenue. He also admitted breaking into three business premises in Ulster House on Canal Walk on the same night where he stole a revolver.

The judges asked Inspector Chatfield why Hunt was considered “a moral imbecile”.

The inspector replied: “I have known this man for 15 or 16 years and without doubt he is very cunning and can act the simpleton if he wishes.”

Hunt then handed a written statement to the judge who read it and then jailed him for 12 months with hard labour.

And with that, the court passed into history.