The jury at Max Clifford’s trial have had a tough time of it trying not to get the giggles, as his alleged victims wrangle with medical experts over what constitutes a ‘freakishly small’ penis.
In the archive, there are reports of other moments that have compromised the solemnity of a British courtroom. At York in 1836, the assizes were interrupted by a large cat ‘in a very infuriated state’:
‘It rushed from the body of the court upon the counsel-table; it next jumped on the bench; and, after attempting to pay a visit to the Jury, it made a rapid descent on the head of one of the learned counsel, inflicting a scratch upon his forehead with its claws. This outrage was the signal for a general movement among the profession. The feline intruder, regardless of all dignity and decorum, dashed anew among the briefs upon the table; from thence it made its way into the crier’s box, and almost instantly quitted the court.

Britain’s best politics newsletters
You get two free articles each week when you sign up to The Spectator’s emails.
Already a subscriber? Log in
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in