Hamlet And The Madness Of Neighbour Disputes

A LITTLE PATCH OF LAND

Mr Ramage and Mrs Strachey were in dispute about a very small piece of land. Both required access over the disputed land to other parts of their own land. The obvious solution was to share this valueless patch of earth; but no, this was a dispute between neighbours and when neighbours fall out common sense flies out of the window.

Mr Ramage won at first instance but Mrs Strachey won in the Court of Appeal. The title link is to the Court of Appeal judgment.

As Lord Justice Sedley said (wryly understating the truth):

"In the present case a poorly drawn conveyance left in doubt the ownership of a patch of ground a fraction of an acre in size. Neither party, so far as one can tell, needed to own it in order to enjoy the use of the rest of their land, though both found its use convenient. Whichever of them held title to it, an easement of use or access should have satisfied the other's needs. But instead of reaching a compromise along these lines, war was declared. Unlike Old Caspar after Blenheim, we can now tell who won; but whether the expenditure on law and lawyers, vastly exceeding the value of the piece of land, has been worthwhile one has to doubt."

I dislike neighbour disputes because everything always gets out of hand.

I tell clients a story about an old case I was involved in. It was a dispute over a parking a parking space on a private road. It did not end up in a judgment but only because my client's opponent, in the course of one of their regular out of court altercations, dropped down dead of a heart attack. I declined instructions to continue the proceedings against the widow.

Never get involved in a neighbour dispute. It is really an area of law where the only winners will be the lawyers. That advice and my little story have never discouraged anyone.

As Lord Hoffman said in an earlier case:

"Boundary disputes are a particularly painful form of litigation. Feelings run high and disproportionate amounts of money are spent. Claims to small and valueless pieces of land are pressed with the zeal of Fortinbras's army."

The reference is to an exchange between Hamlet and a captain in Fortinbras's army (Hamlet Act IV, scene iv):

FORTINBRAS

"HAMLET
Goes it against the main of Poland, sir,
Or for some frontier?

Captain
Truly to speak, and with no addition,
We go to gain a little patch of ground
That hath in it no profit but the name.
To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it;
Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole
A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.

HAMLET
Why, then the Polack never will defend it.

Captain
Yes, it is already garrison'd.

HAMLET
Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats
Will not debate the question of this straw:
This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace,
That inward breaks, and shows no cause without
Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir.

Captain
God be wi' you, sir."

This leads into Hamlet's final soliloquy which I do not hesitate to quote in full:



"How all occasions do inform against me,
And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not
That capability and god-like reason
To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
Of thinking too precisely on the event,
A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom
And ever three parts coward, I do not know
Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;'
Sith I have cause and will and strength and means
To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me:
Witness this army of such mass and charge
Led by a delicate and tender prince,
Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'd
Makes mouths at the invisible event,
Exposing what is mortal and unsure
To all that fortune, death and danger dare,
Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great
Is not to stir without great argument,
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw
When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,
That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,
Excitements of my reason and my blood,
And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,
Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough and continent
To hide the slain? O, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!"

Reflect and consider that if you wish to find quarrel in a straw then you may pay a heavy price and that that is so even if you win.