There is no reason to suppose that the custom of giving and receiving

presents was more general or extravagant in the time of Elizabeth than

in previous ages; but the fuller records of her splendid reign give

greater prominence to the usage than it obtained in the chronicles of

any earlier period of English history. On each New Year's day her

courtiers gave her costly presents--jewels, ornaments of gold or silver

workmanship, hundreds of ounces of silver-gilt plate, tapestry, laces,

satin dresses, embroidered petticoats. Not only did she accept such

costly presents from men of rank and wealth, but she graciously received

the donations of tradesmen and menials. Francis Bacon made her majesty

"a poor oblation of a garment;" Charles Smith, the dustman, threw upon

the pile of treasure "two bottes of cambric." The fashion thus

countenanced by the queen was followed in all ranks of society; all men,

from high to low, receiving presents, as expressions of affection when

they came from their equals, as declarations of respect when they came

from their social inferiors. Each of her great officers of state drew a

handsome revenue from such yearly offerings. But though the burdens and

abuses of this system were excessive under Elizabeth, they increased in

enormity and number during the reigns of the Stuarts.

That the salaries of the Elizabethan judges were small in comparison

with the sums which they received in presents and fees may be seen from

the following Table of stipends and allowances annually paid, towards

the close of the sixteenth century:--

L _s._ _d._

The Lord Cheefe Justice of England:--

Fee, Reward and Robes 208 6 8

Wyne, 2 tunnes at L5 the tunne 10 0 0

Allowance for being Justice of Assize 20 0 0

The Lord Cheefe Justice of the Common Pleas:--

Fee, Reward, and Robes 141 13 4

Wyne, two tunnes 8 0 0

Allowance as Justice of Assize 20 0 0

Fee for keeping the Assize in the Augmentation

Court 12 10 8

Each of the three Justices in these two Courts:--

Fee, Reward and Robes L123 6_s._ 8_d._

Allowance as Justice of Assize 20 0 0

The Lord Cheefe Baron of the Exchequer:--

Fee 100 0 0

Lyvery 12 17 8

Allowance as Justice of the Assize 20 0 0

Each of the three Barons:--

Fee 46 12 4

Lyvery a peece 12 17 4

Allowance as Justice of Assize 20 0 0

Prior to and in the earlier part of Elizabeth's reign, the sheriffs had

been required to provide diet and lodging for judges travelling on

circuit, each sheriff being responsible for the proper entertainment of

judges within the limits of his jurisdiction. This arrangement was very

burdensome upon the class from which the sheriffs were elected, as the

official host had not only to furnish suitable lodging and cheer for the

justices themselves, but also to supply the wants of their attendants

and servants. The ostentatious and costly hospitality which law and

public opinion thus compelled or encouraged them to exercise towards

circuiteers of all ranks had seriously embarrassed a great number of

country gentlemen; and the queen was assailed with entreaties for a

reform that should free a sheriff of small estate from the necessity of

either ruining himself, or incurring a reputation for stinginess. In

consequence of these urgent representations, an order of council,

bearing date February 21, 1574, decided "the justices shall have of her

majesty several sums of money out of her coffers for their daily diet."

Hence rose the usage of 'circuit allowances.' The sheriffs, however,

were still bound to attend upon the judges, and make suitable provision

for the safe conduct of the legal functionaries from assize town to

assize town;--the sheriff of each county being required to furnish a

body-guard for the protection of the sovereign's representatives. This

responsibility lasted till the other day, when an innovation (of which

Mr. Arcedeckne, of Glevering Hall, Suffolk, was the most notorious,

though not the first champion), substituted guards of policemen, paid by

county-rates, for bands of javelin-men equipped and rewarded by the

sheriffs. In some counties the javelin-men--remote descendants of the

mail-clad knights and stalwart men-at-arms who formerly mustered at the

summons of sheriffs--still do duty with long wands and fresh rosettes;

but they are fast giving way to the wielders of short staves.

Amongst the bad consequences of the system of gratuities was the color

which it gave to idle rumors and malicious slander against the purity of

upright judges.

When Sir Thomas More fell, charges of bribery were preferred against him

before the Privy Council. A disappointed suitor, named Parnell, declared

that the Chancellor had been bribed with a gift-cup to decide in favor

of his (Parnell's) adversary. Mistress Vaughan, the successful suitor's

wife, had given Sir Thomas the cup with her own hands. The fallen

Chancellor admitting that "he had received the cup as a New Year's

Gift," Lord Wiltshire cried, with unseemly exultation, "Lo! did I not

tell you, my lords, that you would find this matter true?" It seemed

that More had pleaded guilty, for his oath did not permit him to receive

a New Year's Gift from an actual suitor. "But, my lords," continued the

accused man, with one of his characteristic smiles, "hear the other part

of my tale. After having drunk to her of wine, with which my butler had

filled the cup, and when she had pledged me, I restored it to her, and

would listen to no refusal." It is possible that Mistress Vaughan did

not act with corrupt intention, but merely in ignorance of the rule

which forbade the Chancellor to accept her present. As much cannot be

said in behalf of Mrs. Croker, who, being opposed in a suit to Lord

Arundel, sought to win Sir Thomas More's favor by presenting him with a

pair of gloves containing forty angels. With a courteous smile he

accepted the gloves, but constrained her to take back the gold. The

gentleness of this rebuff is charming; but the story does not tell more

in favor of Sir Thomas than to the disgrace of the lady and the moral

tone of the society in which she lived.

Readers should bear in mind the part which New Year's Gifts and other

customary gratuities played in the trumpery charges against Lord Bacon.

Adopting an old method of calumny, the conspirators against his fair

fame represented that the gifts made to him, in accordance with ancient

usage, were bribes. For instance Reynel's ring, presented on New Year's

day, was so construed by the accusers; and in his comment upon the

charge, Bacon, who had inadvertently accepted the gift during the

progress of a suit, observes, "This ring was received certainly

_pendente lite_, and though it were at New Year's tide, yet it was too

great a value for a New Year's Gift, though, as I take it, nothing near

the value mentioned in the articles." So also Trevor's gift was a New

Year's present, of which Bacon says, "I confess and declare that I

received at New Year's tide an hundred pounds from Sir John Trevor, and

because it came as a New Year's Gift, I neglected to inquire whether the

cause was ended or depending; but since I find that though the cause was

then dismissed to a trial at law, yet the equity is reserved, so as it

was in that kind _pendente lite_." Bacon knew that this explanation

would be read by men familiar with the history of New Year's Gifts, and

all the circumstances of the ancient usage; and it is needless to say

that no man of honor thought the less highly of Bacon at that time,

because his pure and guiltless acceptance of customary presents was by

ingenious and unscrupulous adversaries made to assume an appearance of

corrupt compliance.

How far the Chancellors of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries

depended upon customary gratuities for their revenues may be seen from

the facts which show the degree of state which they were required to

maintain, and the inadequacy of the ancient fees for the maintenance of

that pomp. When Elizabeth pressed Hatton for payment of the sums which

he owed her, the Chancellor lamented his inability to liquidate her just

claims, and urged in excuse that the _ancient fees_ were very inadequate

to the expenses of the Chancellor's office. But though Elizabethan

Chancellors could not live upon their ancient fees, they kept up palaces

in town and country, fed regiments of lackeys, and surpassed the ancient

nobility in the grandeur of their equipages. Egerton--the needy and

illegitimate son of a rural knight, a lawyer who fought up from the

ranks--not only sustained the costly dignities of office, but left to

his descendants a landed estate worth L8000 per annum. Bacon's successor

in the 'marble chair,' Lord Keeper Williams, assured Buckingham that in

Egerton's time the Chancellor's lawful income was less than three

thousand per annum. "The lawful revenue of the office stands thus,"

wrote Williams, speaking from his intimate knowledge of Ellesmere's

affairs, "or not much above it at anytime:--in fines certain, L1300 per

annum, or thereabouts; in fines casual, L1250 or thereabouts; in greater

writs, L140; for impost of wine, L100--in all, L2790; and these are all

the true means of that great office." It is probable that Williams

under-stated the revenue, but it is certain that the income, apart from

gratuities, was insufficient.

The Chancellor was not more dependent on customary gratuities than the

chief of the three Common Law courts. At Westminster and on circuit,

whenever he was required to discharge his official functions, the

English judge extended his hand for the contributions of the

well-disposed. No one thought of blaming judges for their readiness to

take customary benevolences. To take gifts was a usage of the

profession, and had its parallel in the customs of every calling and

rank of life. The clergy took dues in like manner: from the earliest

days of feudal life the territorial lords had supplied their wants in

the same way; amongst merchants and yeomen, petty traders and servants,

the system existed in full force. These presents were made without any

secrecy. The aldermen of borough towns openly voted presents to the

judges; and the judges received their offerings--not as benefactions,

but as legitimate perquisites. In 1620--just a year before Lord Bacon's

fall--the municipal council of Lyme Regis left it to the "mayor's

discretion" to decide "what gratuity he will give to the Lord Chief

Baron and his men" at the next assizes. The system, it is needless to

say, had disastrous results. Empowering the chief judge of every court

to receive presents not only from the public, but from subordinate

judges, inferior officers, and the bar; and moreover empowering each

place-holder to take gratuities from persons officially or by profession

concerned in the business of the courts, it produced a complicated

machinery for extortion. By presents the chief justices bought their

places from the crown or a royal favorite; by presents the puisne

justices, registrars, counsel bought place or favor from the chief; by

presents the attorneys, sub-registrars, and outside public sought to

gain their ends with the humbler place-holders. The meanest ushers of

Westminster Hall took coins from ragged scriveners. Hence every place

was actually bought and sold, the sum being in most cases very high.

Sir James Ley offered the Duke of Buckingham L10,000 for the Attorney's

place. At the same period the Solicitor General's office was sold for

L4000. Under Charles I. matters grew still worse than they had been

under his father. When Sir Charles Caesar consulted Laud about the worth

of the vacant Mastership of the Rolls, the archbishop frankly said,

"that as things then stood, the place was not likely to go without more

money than he thought any wise man would give for it." Disregarding this

intimation, Sir Charles paid the king L15,000 for the place, and added a

loan of L2000. Sir Thomas Richardson, at the opening of the reign, gave

L17,000 for the Chiefship of the Common Pleas. If judges needed gifts

before the days when vacant seats were put up to auction, of course they

stood all the more in need of them when they bought their promotions

with such large sums. It is not wonderful that the wearers of ermine

repaid themselves by venal practices. The sale of judicial offices was

naturally followed by the sale of judicial decisions. The judges having

submitted to the extortions of the king, the public had to endure the

extortions of the judges. Corruption on the bench produced corruption at

the bar. Counsel bought the attention and compliance of 'the court,' and

in some cases sold their influence with shameless rascality. They would

take fees to speak from one side in a cause and fees to be silent from

the other side--selling their own clients as coolly as judges sold the

suitors of their courts. Sympathizing with the public, and stung by

personal experience of legal dishonesty, the clergy sometimes denounced

from the pulpit the extortions of corrupt judges and unprincipled

barristers. The assize sermons of Charles I.'s reign were frequently

seasoned with such animadversions. At Thetford Assizes, March, 1630,

the Rev. Mr. Ramsay, in the assize-sermon, spoke indignantly of judges

who "favored causes," and of "counsellors who took fees to be silent."

In the summer of 1631, at the Bury Assizes, "one Mr. Scott made a sore

sermon in discovery of corruption in judges and others." At Norwich, the

same authority, viz., 'Sir John Rous's Diary,' informs us--"Mr. Greene

was more plaine, insomuch that Judge Harvey, in his charge, broke out

thus: 'It seems by the sermon that we are corrupt, but we know that we

can use conscience in our places as well as the best clergieman of

all.'"

In his 'Life and Death of Sir Matthew Hale,' Bishop Burnet tells a good

story of the Chief's conduct with regard to a customary gift. "It is

also a custom," says the biographer, "for the Marshall of the King's

Bench to present the judges of that court with a piece of plate for a

New Year's Gift, that for the Chief Justice being larger than the rest.

This he intended to have refused, but the other judges told him it

belonged to his office, and the refusing it would be a prejudice to his

successors; so he was persuaded to take it, but he sent word to the

marshall, that instead of plate he should bring him the value of it in

money, and when he received it, he immediately sent it to the prisons

for the relief and discharge of the poor there."

[13] A portion of the oath prescribed for judges in the 'Ordinances for

Justices,' 20 Edward III., will show the reader the evils which called

for correction and the care taken to effect their cure. "Ye shall

swear," ran the injunction to which each judge was required to vow

obedience, "that well and lawfully ye shall serve our lord the king and

his people in the office of justice; ... and that ye take not by

yourself or by other, privily or apertly, gift or reward of gold or

silver, nor any other thing which may turn to your profit, unless it be

meat nor drink, and that of small value, _of any man that shall have

plea or process before you, as long as the same process shall be so

hanging, nor after for the same cause: and that ye shall take no fee as

long as ye shall be justice, nor robes of any man, great or small_, but

of the king himself: and that ye give none advice or counsel to no man,

great or small, in any case where the king is party; &c. &c. &c." The

clause forbidding the judge to receive gifts of actual suitors was a

positive recognition of his right to customary gifts rendered by persons

who had no process hanging before him. It should, moreover, be observed

that in the passage, "ye shall take no fee as long as ye shall be

justice, nor robes of any man," the word "fee" signifies "salary," and

not a single payment or gratuity. The Judge was forbidden to receive

from any man a fixed stipend (by the acceptance of which he would become

the donor's servant), or robes (the assumption of which would be open

declaration of service); but he was at liberty to accept the offerings

which the public were wont to make to men of his condition, as well as

the sums (or 'fees,' as they would be termed at the present day) due on

different processes of his court. That the word 'fee' is thus used in

the ordinance may be seen from the words "for this cause we have

increased the fees (les feez) of the same our justices, in such manner

as it ought reasonably to suffice them," by which language attention is

drawn to the increase of judicial salaries.

[14] Mr. Foss observes: "In 1350, William de Thrope, Chief Justice of

the King's Bench, was convicted on his own confession of receiving

bribes to stay justice; but though his property was forfeited to the

Crown on his condemnation, the king appears to have relented, and to

have made him second Baron of the Exchequer in May, 1352, unless I am

mistaken in supposing the latter to have been the same person."

CHAPTER XV.

GIFTS AND SALES.

By degrees the public ceased to make presents to the principal judges of

the kingdom; but long after the Chancellor and the three Chiefs had

taken the last offerings of general society, they continued to receive

yearly presents from the subordinate judges, placemen, and barristers

of their respective courts. Lord Cowper deserves honor for being the

holder of the seals who, by refusing to pocket these customary

donations, put an end to a very objectionable system, so far as the

Court of Chancery was concerned.

On being made Lord Keeper, he resolved to depart from the custom of his

predecessors for many generations, who on the first day of each new year

had invariably entertained at breakfast the persons from whom tribute

was looked for. Very droll were these receptions in the old time. The

repast at an end, the guests forthwith disburdened themselves of their

gold--the payers approaching the holder of the seals in order of rank,

and laying on his table purses of money, which the noble payee accepted

with his own hands. Sometimes his lordship was embarrassed by a ceremony

that required him to pick gold from the fingers of men, several of whom

he knew to be in indigent circumstances. In Charles II.'s time it was

observed that the silver-tongued Lord Nottingham on such occasions

always endeavored to hide his confusion under a succession of nervous

smiles and exclamations--"Oh, Tyrant Cuthtom!--Oh, Tyrant Cuthtom!"

It is noteworthy that in relinquishing the benefit of these exactions,

the Lord Keeper feared unfriendly criticism much more than he

anticipated public commendation. In his diary, under date December 30,

Cowper wrote:--"I acquainted my Lord Treasurer with my design to refuse

New Year's Gifts, if he had no objection against it, as spoiling, in

some measure, a place of which he had the conferring. He answered it was

not expected of me, but that I might do as my predecessors had done; but

if I refused, he thought nobody could blame me for it." Anxious about

the consequences of his innovation, the new Lord Keeper gave notice that

on January 1, 1705-6, he would receive no gifts; but notwithstanding

this proclamation, several officers of Chancery and counsellors came to

his house with tribute, and were refused admittance. "New Year's Gifts

turned back," he wrote in his diary at the close of the eventful day,

"and pray God it doth me more credit and good than hurt, by making

secret enemies _in faece Romuli_." His fears were in a slight degree

fulfilled. The Chiefs of the three Common Law Courts were greatly

displeased with an innovation which they had no wish to adopt; and their

warm expressions of dissatisfaction induced the Lord Keeper to cover his

disinterestedness with a harmless fiction. To pacify the indignant

Chiefs and the many persons who sympathized with them, he pretended that

though he had declined intentionally the gifts of the Chancery

barristers, he had not designed to exercise the same self-denial with

regard to the gifts of Chancery officers.[15]

The common law chiefs were slow to follow in the Lord Keeper's steps,

and many years passed before the reform, effected in Chancery by

accident or design, or by a lucky combination of both, was adopted in

the other great courts. In his memoir of Lord Cowper, Campbell observes:

"His example with respect to New Year's Gifts was not speedily followed;

and it is said that till very recently the Chief Justice of the Common

Pleas invited the officers of his court to a dinner at the beginning of

the year, when each of them deposited under his plate a present in the

shape of a Bank of England note, instead of a gift of oxen roaring at

his levee, as in ruder times." There is no need to remind the reader in

this place of the many veracious and the many apocryphal stories

concerning the basket justices of Fielding's time--stories showing that

in law courts of the lowest sort applicants for justice were accustomed

to fee the judges with victuals and drink until a comparatively recent

date.

Lucky would it have been for the first Earl of Macclesfield if the

custom of selling places in Chancery had been put an end to forever by

the Lord Keeper who abolished the custom of New Year's Gifts; but the

judge who at the sacrifice of one-fourth of his official income swept

away the pernicious usage which had from time immemorial marked the

opening of each year, saw no reason why he should purge Chancery of

another scarcely less objectionable practice. Following the steps of

their predecessors, the Chancellors Cowper, Harcourt, and Macclesfield

sold subordinate offices in their court; and whereas all previous

Chancellors had been held blameless for so doing, Lord Macclesfield was

punished with official degradation, fine, imprisonment, and obloquy.

By birth as humble[16] as any layman who before or since his time has

held the seals, Thomas Parker raised himself to the woolsack by great

talents and honorable industry. As an advocate he won the respect of

society and his profession; as a judge he ranks with the first

expositors of English law. Although for imputed corruption he was hurled

with ignominy from his high place, no one has ventured to charge him

with venality on the bench. That he was a spotless character, or that

his career was marked by grandeur of purpose, it would be difficult to

establish; but few Englishmen could at the present time be found to deny

that he was in the main an upright peer, who was not wittingly

neglectful of his duty to the country which had loaded him with wealth

and honors.

Amongst the many persons ruined by the bursting of the South Sea Bubble

were certain Masters of Chancery, who had thrown away on that wild

speculation large sums of which they were the official guardians. Lord

Macclesfield was one of the victims on whom the nation wreaked its wrath

at a crisis when universal folly had produced universal disaster. To

punish the masters for their delinquencies was not enough; greater

sacrifices than a few comparatively obscure placemen were demanded by

the suitors and wards whose money had been squandered by the fraudulent

trustees. The Lord Chancellor should be made responsible for the

Chancery defalcations. That was the will of the country. No one

pretended that Lord Macclesfield had originated the practice which

permitted Masters in Chancery to speculate with funds placed under their

care; attorneys and merchants were well aware that in the days of

Harcourt, Cowper, Wright, and Somers, it had been usual for masters to

pocket interest accruing from suitors' money; notorious also was it

that, though the Chancellor was theoretically the trustee of the money

confided to his court, the masters were its actual custodians. Had the

Chancellor known that the masters were trafficking in dangerous

investments to the probable loss of the public, duty would have required

him to examine their accounts and place all trust-moneys beyond their

reach; but until the crash came, Lord Macclesfield knew neither the

actual worthlessness of the South Sea Stock, nor the embarrassed

circumstances of the defaulting masters, nor the peril of the persons

committed to his care. The system which permitted the masters to

speculate with money not their own was execrable, but the Lord

Chancellor was not the parent of that system.

Infuriated by the national calamity, in which they were themselves great

sufferers, the Commons impeached the Chancellor, charging him with high

crimes and misdemeanors, of which the peers unanimously declared him

guilty. In this famous trial the great fact established against his

lordship was that he had sold masterships to the defaulters. It appeared

that he had not only sold the places, but had stood out for very high

prices; the inference being, that in consideration of these large sums

he had left the purchasers without the supervision usually exercised by

Chancellors over such officers, and had connived at the practices which

had been followed by ruinous results. To this it was replied, that if

the Chancellor had sold the places at higher prices than his

predecessors, he had done so because the places had become much more

valuable; that at the worst he had but sold them to the highest bidder,

after the example of his precursors; that the inference was not

supported by any direct testimony.

Very humorous was some of the evidence by which the sale of the

masterships was proved. Master Elde deposed that he bought his office

for 5000 guineas, the bargain being finally settled and fulfilled after

a personal interview with the accused lord. Master Thurston, another

purchaser at the high rate of 5000 guineas, paid his money to Lady

Macclesfield. It must be owned that these sums were very large, but

their magnitude does not fix fraudulent purpose upon the Chancellor.

That he believed himself fairly entitled to a moderate present on

appointing to a mastership is certain; that he regarded L2000 as the

gratuity which he might accept, without blushing at its publication, may

be inferred from the restitution of L3250 which he made to one of the

purchasers for L5250 at a time when he anticipated an inquiry into his

conduct; that he felt himself acting indiscreetly if not wrongfully in

pressing for such large sums is testified by the caution with which he

conferred with the purchasers and the secrecy with which he accepted

their money.

His defence before the peers admitted the sales of the places, but

maintained that the transactions were legitimate.

The defence was of no avail. When the question of guilty or not guilty

was put to the peers, each of the noble lords present answered, "Guilty,

upon my honor." Sentenced to pay a fine of L30,000, and undergo

imprisonment until the mulct was paid, the unfortunate statesman

bitterly repented the imprudence which had exposed him to the vengeance

of political adversaries and to the enmity of the vulgar. Whilst the

passions roused by the prosecution were at their height, the fallen

Chancellor was treated with much harshness by Parliament, and with

actual brutality by the mob. Ever ready to vilify lawyers, the rabble

seized on so favorable an occasion for giving expression to one of their

strongest prejudices. Amongst the crowds who followed the Earl to the

Tower with curses, voices were heard to exclaim that "Staffordshire had

produced the three greatest scoundrels of England--Jack Sheppard,

Jonathan Wilde, and Tom Parker." Jonathan Wilde was executed in

1725--the year of Lord Macclesfield's impeachment; and Jack Sheppard

died on the gallows at Tyburn, November 16, 1724.

Throughout the inquiry, and after the adverse verdict, George I.

persisted in showing favor to the disgraced Chancellor; and when the

violent emotions of the crisis had passed away it was generally admitted

by enlightened critics of public events that Lord Macclesfield had been

unfairly treated. The scape-goat of popular wrath, he suffered less for

his own faults, than for the evil results of a bad system; and at the

present time--when the silence of more than a hundred and thirty years

rests upon his tomb--Englishmen, with one voice, acknowledge the

valuable qualities that raised him to eminence, and regret the

proceedings which consigned him in his old age to humiliation and gloom.

[15] It should be observed that many persons are of opinion that the

Lord Keeper's assertion on this point was not an artifice, but a simple

statement of fact. To those who take this view, his lordship's position

seems alike ridiculous and respectable--respectable because he actually

intended to forbear from taking the barrister's money; ridiculous

because, through clumsy and inadequate arrangements, he missed the other

and not less precious gifts which he did not mean to decline. Anyhow,

the critics admit that credit is due to him for persisting in a

change--wrought in the first instance partly by honorable design and

partly by accident.

[16] The cases of John Scott, Philip Yorke, and Edward Sugden are before

the mind of the present writer, when he pens the sentence to which this

note refers. The social extraction of the English bar will be considered

in a later chapter of this work.

CHAPTER XVI.

A ROD PICKLED BY WILLIAM COLE.

"A proneness to take bribes may be generated from the habit of taking

fees," said Lord Keeper Williams in his Inaugural Address, making an

ungenerous allusion to Francis Bacon, whilst he uttered a statement

which was no calumny upon King James's Bench and Bar, though it is

signally inapplicable to lawyers of the present day.

Of Williams, tradition preserves a story that illustrates the prevalence

of judicial corruption in the seventeenth century, and the jealousy with

which that Right Reverend Lord Keeper watched for attempts to tamper

with his honesty. Whilst he was taking exercise in the Great Park of

Nonsuch House, his attention was caught by a church recently erected at

the cost of a rich Chancery suitor. Having expressed satisfaction with

the church, Williams inquired of George Minors, "Has he not a suit

depending in Chancery?" and on receiving an answer in the affirmative,

observed, "he shall not fare the worse for building of churches." These

words being reported to the pious suitor, he not illogically argued that

the Keeper was a judge likely to be influenced in making his decisions

by matters distinct from the legal merits of the case put before him.

Acting on this impression, the good man forthwith sent messengers to

Nonsuch House, bearing gifts of fruits and poultry to the holder of the

seals. "Nay, carry them back," cried the judge, looking with a grim

smile from the presents to George Minors; "nay, carry them back, George,

and tell your friend that he shall not fare the better for sending of

presents."

Rich in satire directed against law and its professors, the literature

of the Commonwealth affords conclusive testimony of the low esteem in

which lawyers were held in the seventeenth century by the populace, and

shows how universal was the belief that wearers of ermine and gentlemen

of the long robe would practice any sort of fraud or extortion for the

sake of personal advantage. In the pamphlets and broadsides, in the

squibs and ballads of the period, may be found a wealth of quaint

narrative and broad invective, setting forth the rascality of judges and

attorneys, barristers and scriveners. Any literary effort to throw

contempt upon the law was sure of success. The light jesters, who made

merry with the phraseology and costumes of Westminster Hall, were only a

few degrees less welcome than the stronger and more indignant scribes

who cried aloud against the sins and sinners of the courts. When simple

folk had expended their rage in denunciations of venal eloquence and

unjust judgments, they amused themselves with laughing at the antiquated

verbiage of the rascals who sought to conceal their bad morality under

worse Latin. 'A New Modell, or the Conversion of the Infidell Terms of

the Law: For the Better promoting of misunderstanding according to

Common Sense,' is a publication consisting of a cover or fly-leaf and

two leaves, that appeared about a year before the Restoration. The wit

is not brilliant; its humor is not free from uncleanness; but its comic

renderings[17] of a hundred law terms illustrate the humor of the

times.

More serious in aim, but not less comical in result, is William Cole's

'A Rod for the Lawyers. London, Printed in the year 1659.' The preface

of this mad treatise ends thus--"I do not altogether despair but that

before I dye I may see the Inns of Courts, or dens of Thieves, converted

into Hospitals, which were a rare piece of justice; that as they

formerly have immured those that robbed the poor of houses, so they may

at last preserve the poor themselves."

Another book touching on the same subject and belonging to the same

period, is, 'Sagrir, or Doomsday drawing nigh; With Thunder and

Lightning to Lawyers, (1653) by John Rogers.'

Violent, even for a man holding Fifth-Monarchy views, John Rogers

prefers a lengthy indictment against lawyers, for whose delinquencies

and heinous offence he admits neither apology nor palliation. In his

opinion all judges deserve the death of Arnold and Hall, whose last

moments were provided for by the hangman. The wearers of the long robe

are perjurers, thieves, enemies of mankind; their institutions are

hateful, and their usages abominable. In olden time they were less

powerful and rapacious. But prosperity soon exaggerated all their evil

qualities. Sketching the rise of the profession, the author

observes--"These men would get sometimes Parents, Friends, Brothers,

Neighbors, sometimes _others_ to be (in their absence) Agents, Factors,

or Solicitors for them at Westminster, and as yet they had no stately

houses or mansions to live in, as they have now (called Inns of Court),

but they lodged like countrymen or strangers in ordinary Inns. But

afterwards, when the interests of lawyers began to look big (as in

Edward III.'s days), they got mansions or colleges, which they called

Inns, and by the king's favor had an addition of honor, whence they were

called Inns of Court."[18]

The familiar anecdotes which are told as illustrations of Chief Justice

Hale's integrity are very ridiculous, but they serve to show that the

judges of his time were believed to be very accessible to corrupt

influences. During his tenure of the Chiefship of the Exchequer, Hale

rode the Western Circuit, and met with the loyal reception usually

accorded to judges on circuit in his day. Amongst other attentions

offered to the judges on this occasion was a present of venison from a

wealthy gentleman who was concerned in a cause that was in due course

called for hearing. No sooner was the call made than Chief Baron Hale

resolved to place his reputation for judicial honesty above suspicion,

and the following scene occurred:--

"_Lord Chief Baron._--'Is this plaintiff the gentleman of the same name

who hath sent me the venison?' _Judge's servant._--'Yes, please you, my

lord.' _Lord Chief Baron._--'Stop a bit, then. Do not yet swear the

jury. I cannot allow the trial to go on till I have paid him for his

buck!' _Plaintiff._--'I would have your lordship to know that neither

myself nor my forefathers have ever sold venison, and I have done

nothing to your lordship which we have not done to every judge that has

come this circuit for centuries bygone.' _Magistrate of the

County._--'My lord, I can confirm what the gentleman says for truth, for

twenty years back.' _Other Magistrates._--'And we, my lord, know the

same.' _Lord Chief Baron._--'That is nothing to me. The Holy Scripture

says, 'A gift perverteth the ways of judgment.' I will not suffer the

trial to go on till the venison is paid for. Let my butler count down

the full value thereof.' _Plaintiff._--'I will not disgrace myself and

my ancestors by becoming a venison butcher. From the needless dread of

_selling_ justice, your lordship _delays_ it. I withdraw my record.'"

As far as good taste and dignity were concerned, the gentleman of the

West Country was the victor in this absurd contest: on the other hand,

Hale had the venison for nothing, and was relieved of the trouble of

hearing the cause.

In the same manner Hale insisted on paying for six loaves of sugar which

the Dean and Chapter of Salisbury sent to his lodgings, in accordance

with ancient usage. Similar cases of the judge's readiness to construe

courtesies as bribes may be found in notices of trials and books of

_ana_.

_A propos_ of these stories of Hale's squeamishness, Lord Campbell tells

the following good anecdote of Baron Graham: "The late Baron Graham

related to me the following anecdote to show that he had more firmness

than Judge Hale:--'There was a baronet of ancient family with whom the

judges going the Western Circuit had always been accustomed to dine.

When I went that circuit I heard that a cause, in which he was

plaintiff, was coming on for trial: but the usual invitation was

received, and lest the people might suppose that judges could be

influenced by a dinner; I accepted it. The defendant, a neighboring

squire, being dreadfully alarmed by this intelligence, said to himself,

'Well, if Sir John entertains the judge hospitably, I do not see why I

should not do the same by the jury.' So he invited to dinner the whole

of the special jury summoned to try the cause. Thereupon the baronet's

courage failed him, and he withdrew the record, so that the cause was

not tried; and although I had my dinner, I escaped all suspicion of

partiality."

This story puts the present writer in mind of another story which he has

heard told in various ways, the wit of it being attributed by different

narrators to two judges who have left the bench for another world, and a

Master of Chancery who is still alive. On the present occasion the

Master of Chancery shall figure as the humorist of the anecdote.

Less than twenty years since, in one of England's southern counties, two

neighboring landed proprietors differed concerning their respective

rights over some unenclosed land, and also about certain rights of

fishing in an adjacent stream. The one proprietor was the richest

baronet, the other the poorest squire of the county; and they agreed to

settle their dispute by arbitration. Our Master in Chancery, slightly

known to both gentlemen, was invited to act as arbitrator after

inspecting the localities in dispute. The invitation was accepted and

the master visited the scene of disagreement, on the understanding that

he should give up two days to the matter. It was arranged that on the

first day he should walk over the squire's estate, and hear the squire's

uncontradicted version of the case, dining at the close of the day with

both contendents at the squire's table; and that on the second day,

having walked over the baronet's estate, and heard without interruption

the other side of the story, he should give his award, sitting over wine

after dinner at the rich man's table. At the close of the first day the

squire entertained his wealthy neighbor and the arbitrator at dinner.

In accordance with the host's means, the dinner was modest but

sufficient. It consisted of three fried soles, a roast leg of mutton,

and vegetables; three pancakes, three pieces of cheese, three small

loaves of bread, ale, and a bottle of sherry. On the removal of the

viands, three magnificent apples, together with a magnum of port, were

placed on the table by way of dessert. At the close of the second day

the trio dined at the baronet's table, when it appeared that, struck by

the simplicity of the previous day's dinner, and rightly attributing the

absence of luxuries to the narrowness of the host's purse, the wealthy

disputant had resolved not to attempt to influence the umpire by giving

him a superior repast. Sitting at another table the trio dined on

exactly the same fare,--three fried soles, a roast leg of mutton, and

vegetables; three pancakes, three pieces of cheese, three small loaves

of bread, ale, and a bottle of sherry; and for dessert three magnificent

apples, together with a magnum of port. The dinner being over, the

apples devoured, and the last glass of port drunk, the arbitrator (his

eyes twinkling brightly as he spoke) introduced his award with the

following exordium:--"Gentlemen, I have with all proper attention

considered your _sole_ reasons: I have taken due notice of your _joint_

reasons, and I have come to the conclusion that your _des(s)erts_ are

about equal."

[17] Of these renderings the subjoined may be taken as favorable

specimens:--"Breve originale, original sinne; capias, a catch to a sad

tune; alias capias, another to the same (sad tune); habeas corpus, a

trooper; capias ad satisfaciend., a hangman: latitat, bo-peep; nisi

prius, first come first served; demurrer, hum and haw; scandal. magnat.,

down with the Lords."

[18] Even vacations stink in the nostrils of Mr. Rogers; for he

maintains that they are not so much periods when lawyers cease from

their odious practices, as times of repose and recreation wherein they

gain fresh vigor and daring for the commission of further outrages, and

allow their unhappy victims to acquire just enough wealth to render them

worth the trouble of despoiling.

CHAPTER XVII.

CHIEF JUSTICE POPHAM.

One of the strangest cases of corruption amongst English Judges still

remains to be told on the slender authority which is the sole foundation

of the weighty accusation. In comparatively recent times there have not

been many eminent Englishmen to whom 'tradition's simple tongue' has

been more hostile than Queen Elizabeth's Lord Chief Justice, Popham. The

younger son of a gentle family, John Popham passed from Oxford to the

Middle Temple, raised himself to the honors of the ermine, secured the

admiration of illustrious contemporaries, in his latter years gained

abundant praise for wholesome severity towards footpads, and at his

death left behind him a name--which, tradition informs us, belonged to a

man who in his reckless youth, and even after his call to the bar, was a

cut-purse and highwayman. In mitigation of his conduct it is urged by

those who credit the charge, that young gentlemen of his date were so

much addicted to the lawless excitement of the road, that when he was

still a beardless stripling, an act (1 Ed. VI. c. 12, s. 14) was passed,

whereby any peer of the realm or lord of parliament, on a first

conviction for robbery, was entitled to benefit of clergy, though he

could not read. But bearing in mind the liberties which rumor is wont to

take with the names of eminent persons, the readiness the multitude

always display to attribute light morals to grave men, and the

infrequency of the cases where a dissolute youth is the prelude to a

manhood of strenuous industry and an old age of honor--the cautious

reader will require conclusive testimony before he accepts Popham's

connection with 'the road' as one of the unassailable facts of history.

The authority for this grave charge against a famous judge is John

Aubrey, the antiquary, who was born in 1627, just twenty years after

Popham's death. "For severall yeares," this collector says of the Chief

Justice, "he addicted himself but little to the studie of the lawes, but

profligate company, and was wont to take a purse with them. His wife

considered her and his condition, and at last prevailed with him to

lead another life and to stick to the studie of the lawe, which, upon

her importunity, he did, being then about thirtie yours old." As Popham

was born in 1531, he withdrew, according to this account, from the

company of gentle highwaymen about the year 1561--more than sixty years

before Aubrey's birth, and more than a hundred years before the

collector committed the scandalous story to writing. The worth of such

testimony is not great. Good stories are often fixed upon eminent men

who had no part in the transactions thereby attributed to them. If this

writer were to put into a private note-book a pleasant but unauthorized

anecdote imputing _kleptomania_ to Chief Justice Wiles (who died in

1761), and fifty years hence the note-book should be discovered in a

dirty corner of a forgotten closet and published to the world--would

readers in the twentieth century be justified in holding that Sir John

Willes was an eccentric thief?

But Aubrey tells a still stranger story concerning Popham, when he sets

forth the means by which the judge made himself lord of Littlecote Hall

in Wiltshire. The case must be given in the narrator's own words.

"Sir Richard Dayrell of Littlecot in com. Wilts. having got his lady's

waiting-woman with child, when her travell came sent a servant with a

horse for a midwife, whom he was to bring hoodwinked. She was brought,

and layd the woman; but as soon as the child was born, she saw the

knight take the child and murther it, and burn it in the fire in the

chamber. She having done her business was extraordinarily rewarded for

her paines, and went blindfold away. This horrid action did much run in

her mind, and she had a desire to discover it, but knew not where 'twas.

She considered with herself the time she was riding, and how many miles

she might have rode at that rate in that time, and that it must be some

great person's house, for the roome was twelve foot high: and she

should know the chamber if she sawe it. She went to a justice of peace,

and search was made. The very chamber found. The knight was brought to

his tryall; and, to be short, this judge had this noble house, park, and

manor, and (I think) more, for a bribe to save his life. Sir John Popham

gave sentence according to lawe, but being a great person and a

favorite, he procured a _nolle prosequi_."

This ghastly tale of crime following upon crime has been reproduced by

later writers with various exaggerations and modifications. Dramas and

novels have been founded upon it; and a volume might be made of the

ballads and songs to which it has given birth. In some versions the

corrupt judge does not even go through the form of passing sentence, but

secures an acquittal from the jury; according to one account, the

mother, instead of the infant, was put to death; according to another,

the erring woman was the murderer's daughter, instead of his wife's

waiting-woman; another writer, assuming credit as a conscientious

narrator of facts, places the crime in the eighteenth instead of the

sixteenth century, and transforms the venal judge into a clever

barrister.

In a highly seasoned statement of the repulsive tradition communicated

by Lord Webb Seymour to Walter Scott, the murder is described with

hideous minuteness.

Changing the midwife into 'a Friar of orders grey,' and murdering the

mother instead of the baby, Sir Walter Scott revived the story in one of

his most popular ballads. But of all the versions of the tradition that

have come under this writer's notice, the one that departs most widely

from Aubrey's statement is given in Mr. G.L. Rede's 'Anecdotes and

Biography,' (1799).

CHAPTER XVIII.

JUDICIAL SALARIES.

For the last three hundred years the law has been a lucrative

profession, our great judges during that period having in many instances

left behind them large fortunes, earned at the bar or acquired from

official emoluments. The rental of Egerton's landed estates was L8,000

per annum--a royal income in the days of Elizabeth and James. Maynard

left great wealth to his grand-daughters, Lady Hobart and Mary Countess

of Stamford. Lord Mansfield's favorite investment was mortgage; and

towards the close of his life the income which he derived for moneys

lent on sound mortgages was L30,000 per annum. When Lord Kenyon had lost

his eldest son, he observed to Mr. Justice Allan Park--"How delighted

George would be to take his poor brother from the earth and restore him

to life, although he receives L250,000 by his decease." Lord Eldon is

said to have left to his descendants L500,000; and his brother, Lord

Stowell, to whom we are indebted for the phrase 'the elegant simplicity

of the Three per Cents.,' also acquired property that at the time of his

death yielded L12,000 per annum.

Lord Stowell's personalty was sworn under L230,000, and he had invested

considerable sums in land. It is noteworthy that this rich lawyer did

not learn to be contented with the moderate interest of the Three per

Cents. until he had sustained losses from bad speculations. Notable also

is it that this rich lawyer--whose notorious satisfaction with three per

cent. interest has gained for him a reputation of noble indifference to

gain--was inordinately fond of money.

These great fortunes were raised from fees taken in practice at the

bar, from judicial salaries or pensions, and from other official

gains--such as court dues, perquisites, sinecures, and allowances. Since

the Revolution of 1688 these last named irregular or fluctuating sources

of judicial income have steadily diminished, and in the present day have

come to an end. Eldon's receipts during his tenure of the seals cannot

be definitely stated, but more is known about them and his earnings at

the bar than he intended the world to discover, when he declared in

Parliament "that in no one year, since he had been made Lord Chancellor,

had he received the same amount of profit which he enjoyed while at the

bar." Whilst he was Attorney General he earned something more than

L10,000 a year; and in returns which he himself made to the House of

Commons, he admits that in 1810 he received, as Lord Chancellor, a gross

income of L22,730, from which sum, after deduction of all expenses,

there remained a net income of L17,000 per annum. He was enabled also to

enrich the members of his family with presentations to offices, and

reversions of places.

Until comparatively recent times, judges were dangerously dependent on

the king's favor; for they not only held their offices during the

pleasure of the crown, but on dismissal they could not claim a retiring

pension. In the seventeenth century, an aged judge, worn out by toil and

length of days, was deemed a notable instance of royal generosity, if he

obtained a small allowance on relinquishing his place in court. Chief

Justice Hale, on his retirement, was signally favored when Charles II.

graciously promised to continue his salary till the end of his

life--which was manifestly near its close. Under the Stuarts, the judges

who lost their places for courageous fidelity to law, were wont to

resume practice at the bar. To provide against the consequences of

ejection from office, great lawyers, before they consented to exchange

the gains of advocacy for the uncertain advantages of the woolsack, used

to stipulate for special allowance--over and above the ancient

emoluments of place. Lord Nottingham had an allowance of L4000 per

annum; and Lord Guildford, after a struggle for better times, was

constrained, at a cost of mental serenity, to accept the seals, with a

special salary of half that sum.[19]

From 1688 down to the present time, the chronicler of changes in the

legal profession, has to notice a succession of alterations in the

system and scale of judicial payments--all of the innovations having a

tendency to raise the dignity of the bench. Under William and Mary, an

allowance (still continued), was made to holders of the seal on their

appointment, for the cost of outfit and equipages. The amount of this

special aid was L2000, but fees reduced it to L1843 13_s._ Mr. Foss

observes--"The earliest existing record of this allowance, is dated June

4, 1700, when Sir Nathan Wright was made Lord Keeper, which states it to

be the same sum as had been allowed to his predecessor."

At the same period, the salary of a puisne judge was but L1000 a year--a

sum that would have been altogether insufficient for his expenses. A

considerable part of a puisne's remuneration consisted of fees,

perquisites, and presents. Amongst the customary presents to judges at

this time, may be mentioned the _white gloves_, which men convicted of

manslaughter, presented to the judges when they pleaded the king's

pardon; the _sugar loaves_, which the Warden of the Fleet annually sent

to the judges of the Common Pleas; and the almanacs yearly distributed

amongst the occupants of the bench by the Stationers' Company. From one

of these almanacs, in which Judge Rokeby kept his accounts, it appears

that in the year 1694, the casual profits of his place amounted to L694,

4_s._ 6_d._ Here is the list of his official incomes, (net) for ten

years:--in 1689, L1378, 10_s._; in 1690, L1475, 10_s._ 10_d._; in 1691,

L2063, 18_s._ 4_d._; in 1692, L1570, 1_s._ 4_d._; in 1693, L1569, 13_s._

1_d._; in 1694, L1629, 4_s._ 6_d._; in 1695, L1443, 7_s._ 6_d._; in

1696, L1478, 2_s._ 6_d._; in 1697, L1498, 11_s._ 11_d._; in 1698, L1631,

10_s._ 11_d._ The fluctuation of the amounts in this list, is worthy of

observation; as it points to one bad consequence of the system of paying

judges by fees, gratuities, and uncertain perquisites. A needy judge,

whose income in lucky years was over two thousand pounds, must have been

sadly pinched in years when he did not receive fifteen hundred.

Under the heading, "The charges of my coming into my judge's place, and

the taxes upon it the first yeare and halfe," Judge Rokeby gives the

following particulars:

"1689, May 11. To Mr. Milton, Deputy Clerk of the Crown, as per note,

for the patent and swearing privately, L21, 6_s._ 4_d._ May 30. To Mr.

English, charges of the patent at the Secretary of State's Office, as

per note, said to be a new fee, L6, 10_s._ Inrolling the patent in

Exchequer and Treasury, L2, 3_s._ 4_d._ Ju. 27. Wine given as a judge,

as per vintner's note, L23, 19_s._ Ju. 24. Cakes, given as a judge, as

per vintner's note, L5, 14_s._ 6_d._ Second-hand judge's robes, with

some new lining, L31. Charges for my part of the patent for our salarys,

to Aaron Smith, L7, 15_s._, and the dormant warrant L3.--L10,

15_s._--L101, 8_s._ 2_d._

"Taxes, L420.

"The charges of my being made a serjeant-at-law, and of removing myselfe

and family to London, and a new coach and paire of horses, and of my

knighthood (all which were within the first halfe year of my coming from

York), upon the best calculation I can make of them, were att least

L600."

Concerning the expenses attendant on his removal from the Common Pleas

to the King's Bench in 1695--a removal which had an injurious result

upon his income--the judge records: Nov. 1. To Mr. Partridge, the Crier

of King's Bench, claimed by him as a fee due to the 2 criers, L2. Nov.

12. To Mr. Ralph Hall, in full of the Clerk of the Crown's bill for my

patent, and swearing at the Lord Keeper's, and passing it through the

offices, L28, 14_s._ 2_d._ Dec. 6. To Mr. Carpenter, the Vintner, for

wine and bottles, L22, 10_s._ 6_d._ To Gwin, the Confectioner, for

cakes, L5, 3_s._ 6_d._ To Mr. Mand (his clerk), which he paid att the

Treasury, and att the pell for my patent, allowed there, L1, 15_s._ Tot.

L60, 2_s._ 8_d._ The charges for wine and cakes were consequences of a

custom which required a new judge to send biscuits and macaroons, sack

and claret, to his brethren of the bench.

In the reign of George I. the salaries of the common law judges were

raised--the pensions of the chiefs being doubled, and the _puisnes_

receiving fifteen hundred instead of a thousand pounds.

Cowper's incomes during his tenure of the seals varied between something

over seven and something under nine thousand per annum: but there is

some reason to believe that on accepting office, he stipulated for a

handsome yearly salary, in case he should be called upon to relinquish

the place. Evelyn, not a very reliable authority, but still a chronicler

worthy of notice even on questions of fact, says:--"Oct. 1705. Mr.

Cowper made Lord Keeper. Observing how uncertain greate officers are of

continuing long in their places, he would not accept it unless L2,000 a

yeare were given him in reversion when he was put out, in consideration

of his loss of practice. His predecessors, how little time soever they

had the seal, usually got L100,000, and made themselves barons." It is

doubtful whether this bargain was actually made; but long after

Cowper's time, lawyers about to mount the woolsack, insisted on having

terms that should compensate them for loss of practice. Lord

Macclesfield had a special salary of L4000 per annum, during his

occupancy of the marble chair, and obtained a grant of L12,000 from the

king;--a tellership in the Exchequer being also bestowed upon his eldest

son. Lord King obtained even better terms--a salary of L6000 per annum

from the Post Office, and L1200 from the Hanaper Office; this large

income being granted to him in consideration of the injury done to the

Chancellor's emoluments by the proceedings against Lord

Macclesfield--whereby it was declared illegal for chancellors to sell

the subordinate offices in the Court of Chancery. This arrangement--giving

the Chancellor an increased salary in _lieu_ of the sums which he could

no longer raise by sales of offices--is conclusive testimony that in

the opinion of the crown Lord Macclesfield had a right to sell the

masterships. The terms made by Lord Northington, in 1766, on

resigning the Seals and becoming President of the Council, illustrate

this custom. On quitting the marble chair, he obtained an immediate

pension of L2000 per annum; and an agreement that the annual payment

should be made L4000 per annum, as soon as he retired from the

Presidency: he also obtained a reversionary grant for two lives of the

lucrative office of Clerk of the Hanaper in Chancery.

In Lord Chancellor King's time, amongst the fees and perquisites which

he wished to regulate and reform were the supplies of stationery,

provided by the country for the great law-officers. It may be supposed

that the sum thus expended on paper, pens, and wax was an insignificant

item in the national expenditure; but such was not the case--for the

chief of the courts were accustomed to place their personal friends on

the free-list for articles of stationery. The Archbishop of Dublin, a

dignitary well able to pay for his own writing materials, wrote to Lord

King, April 10, 1733: "MY LORD,--Ever since I had the honor of being

acquainted with Lord Chancellors, I have lived in England and Ireland

upon Chancery paper, pens, and wax. I am not willing to lose an old

advantageous custom. If your Lordship hath any to spare me by my

servant, you will oblige your very humble servant,

"JOHN DUBLIN."

So long as judges or subordinate officers were paid by casual

perquisites and fees, paid directly to them by suitors, a taint of

corruption lingered in the practice of our courts. Long after judges

ceased to sell injustice, they delayed justice from interested motives,

and when questions concerning their perquisites were raised, they would

sometimes strain a point, for the sake of their own private advantage.

Even Lord Ellenborough, whose fame is bright amongst the reputations of

honorable men, could not always exercise self-control when attempts were

made to lessen his customary profits, "I never," writes Lord Campbell,

"saw this feeling at all manifest itself in Lord Ellenborough except

once, when a question arose whether money paid into court was liable to

poundage. I was counsel in the case, and threw him into a furious

passion, by strenuously resisting the demand; the poundage was to go

into his own pocket--being payable to the chief clerk--an office held in

trust for him. If he was in any degree influenced by this consideration,

I make no doubt that he was wholly unconscious of it."

George III.'s reign witnessed the introduction of changes long required,

and frequently demanded in the mode and amounts of judicial payments. In

1779, puisne judges and barons received an additional L400 per annum,

and the Chief Baron an increase of L500 a year. Twenty years later,

Stat. 39, Geo. III., c. 110, gave the Master of the Rolls, L4000 a

year, the Lord Chief Baron L4000 a year, and each of the puisne judges

and barons, L3000 per annum. By the same act also, life-pensions of

L4000 per annum were secured to retiring holders of the seal, and it was

provided that after fifteen years of service, or in case of incurable

infirmity, the Chief Justice of the King's Bench could claim, on

retirement, L3000 per annum, the Master of the Rolls, Chief of Common

Pleas, and Chief Baron L2500 per annum, and each minor judge of those

courts or Baron of the coif, L2000 a year. In 1809, (49 Geo. III., c.

127) the Lord Chief Baron's annual salary was raised to L5000; whilst a

yearly stipend of L4000 was assigned to each puisne judge or baron. By

53 Geo. III., c. 153, the Chiefs and Master of the Rolls, received on

retirement an additional yearly L800, and the puisnes an additional

yearly L600. A still more important reform of George III.'s reign was

the creation of the first Vice Chancellor in March, 1813. Rank was

assigned to the new functionary next after the Master of the Rolls, and

his salary was fixed at L5000 per annum.

Until the reign of George IV. judges continued to take fees and

perquisites; but by 6 Geo. IV. c. 82, 83, 84, it was arranged that the

fees should be paid into the Exchequer, and that the undernamed great

officers of justice should receive the following salaries and pensions

on retirement:--

An. Pension

An. Sal. on retirement.

Lord Chief Justice of King's Bench L10,000 L4000

Lord Chief Justice of Common Pleas 8000 3750

The Master of the Rolls 7000 3750

The Vice Chancellor of England 6000 3750

The Chief Baron of the Exchequer 7000 3750

Each Puisne Baron or Judge 5500 3500

Moreover by this Act, the second judge of the King's Bench was

entitled, as in the preceding reign, to L40 for giving charge to the

grand jury in each term, and pronouncing judgment on malefactors.

The changes with regard to judicial salaries under William IV. were

comparatively unimportant. By 2 and 3 Will. IV. c. 116, the salaries of

puisne judges and barons were reduced to L5000 a year; and by 2 and 3

Will. IV. c. 111, the Chancellor's pension, on retirement, was raised to

L5000, the additional L1000 per annum being assigned to him in

compensation of loss of patronage occasioned by the abolition of certain

offices. These were the most noticeable of William's provisions with

regard to the payment of his judges.

The present reign, which has generously given the country two new

judges, called Lord Justices, two additional Vice Chancellors, and a

swarm of paid justices, in the shape of county court judges and

stipendiary magistrates, has exercised economy with regard to judicial

salaries. The annual stipends of the two Chief Justices, fixed in 1825

at L10,000 for the Chief of the King's Bench, and L8000 for the Chief of

the Common Pleas, have been reduced, in the former case to L8000 per

annum, in the latter to L7000 per annum. The Chancellor's salary for his

services as Speaker of the House of Lords, has been made part of the

L10,000 assigned to his legal office; so that his income is no more than

ten thousand a year. The salary of the Master of the Rolls has been

reduced from L7000 to L6000 a year; the same stipend, together with a

pension on retirement of L3750, being assigned to each of the Lords

Justices. The salary of a Vice Chancellor is L5000 per annum; and after

fifteen years' service, or in case of incurable sickness, rendering him

unable to discharge the functions of his office, he can retire with a

pension of L3500.

Thurlow had no pension on retirement; but with much justice Lord

Campbell observes: "Although there was no parliamentary retired

allowance for ex-Chancellors, they were better off than at present.

Thurlow was a Teller of the Exchequer, and had given sinecures to all

his relations, for one of which his nephew now receives a commutation of

L9000 a year." Lord Loughborough was the first ex-Chancellor who

enjoyed, on retirement, a pension of L4000 per annum, under Stat. 39

Geo. III. c. 110. The next claimant for an ex-Chancellor's pension was

Eldon, on his ejection from office in 1806; and the third claimant was

Erskine, whom the possession of the pension did not preserve from the

humiliation of indigence.

Eldon's obstinate tenacity of office, was attended with one good result.

It saved the nation much money by keeping down the number of

ex-Chancellors entitled to L4000 per annum. The frequency with which

Governments have been changed during the last forty years has had a

contrary effect, producing such a strong bevy of lawyers--who are

pensioners as well as peers--that financial reformers are loudly asking

if some scheme cannot be devised for lessening the number of these

costly and comparatively useless personages. At the time when this page

is written, there are four ex-Chancellors in receipt of pensions--Lords

Brougham, St. Leonards, Cranworth, and Westbury; but death has recently

diminished the roll of Chancellors by removing Lords Truro and

Lyndhurst. Not long since the present writer read a very able, but

one-sided article in a liberal newspaper that gave the sum total spent

by the country since Lord Eldon's death in ex-Chancellors' pensions; and

in simple truth it must be admitted that the bill was a fearful subject

for contemplation.

[19] During the Commonwealth, the people, unwilling to pay their judges

liberally, decided that a thousand a year was a sufficient income for a

Lord Commissioner of the Great Seal.

PART IV.

COSTUME AND TOILET.

CHAPTER XIX.

BRIGHT AND SAD.

From the days of the Conqueror's Chancellor, Baldrick, who is reputed to

have invented and christened the sword-belt that bears his name, lawyers

have been conspicuous amongst the best dressed men of their times. For

many generations clerical discipline restrained the members of the bar

from garments of lavish costliness and various colors, unless high rank

and personal influence placed them above the fear of censure and

punishment; but as soon as the law became a lay-profession, its

members--especially those who were still young--eagerly seized the

newest fashions of costume, and expended so much time and money on

personal decoration, that the governors of the Inns deemed it expedient

to make rules, with a view to check the inordinate love of gay apparel.

By these enactments, foppish modes of dressing the hair was

discountenanced or forbidden, not less than the use of gaudy clothes and

bright arms. Some of these regulations have a quaint air to readers of

this generation; and as indications of manners in past times, they

deserve attention.

From Dugdale's 'Origines Juridiciales,' it appears that in the earlier

part of Henry VIII.'s reign, the students and barristers of the Inns

were allowed great licence in settling for themselves minor points of

costume; but before that paternal monarch died, this freedom was

lessened. Accepting the statements of a previous chronicler, Dugdale

observes of the members of the Middle Temple under Henry--"They have no

order for their apparell; but every man may go as him listeth, so that

his apparell pretend no lightness or wantonness in the wearer; for, even

as his apparell doth shew him to be, even so he shall be esteemed among

them." But at the period when this licence was permitted in respect of

costume, the general discipline of the Inn was scandalously lax; the

very next paragraph of the 'Origines' showing that the templars forbore

to shut their gates at night, whereby "their chambers were oftentimes

robbed, and many other misdemeanors used."

But measures were taken to rectify the abuses and evil manners of the

schools. In the thirty-eighth year of Henry VIII. an order was made

"that the gentlemen of this company" (_i.e._, the Inner Temple) "should

reform themselves in their cut or disguised apparel, and not to have

long beards. And that the Treasurer of this society should confer with

the other Treasurers of Court for an uniform reformation." The

authorities of Lincoln's Inn had already bestirred themselves to reduce

the extravagances of dress and toilet which marked their younger and

more frivolous fellow-members. "And for decency in Apparel," writes

Dugdale, concerning Lincoln's Inn, "at a council held on the day of the

Nativity of St. John the Baptist, 23 Hen. VIII. it was ordered that for

a continual rule, to be thenceforth kept in this house, no gentleman,

being a fellow of this house, should wear any cut or pansid hose, or

bryches; or pansid doublet, upon pain of putting out of the house."

Ten years later the authorities of Lincoln's Inn (33 Hen. VIII.) ordered

that no member of the society "being in commons, or at his repast,

should wear a beard; and whoso did, to pay double commons or repasts in

this house during such time as he should have any beard."

By an order of 5 Maii, 1 and 2 Philip and Mary, the gentlemen of the

Inner Temple were forbidden to wear long beards, no member of the

society being permitted to wear a beard of more than three weeks'

growth. Every breach of this law was punished by the heavy fine of

twenty shillings. In 4 and 5 of Philip and Mary it was ordered that no

member of the Middle Temple "should thenceforth wear any great bryches

in their hoses, made after the Dutch, Spanish, or Almon fashion; or

lawnde upon their capps; or cut doublets, upon pain of iiis iiiid

forfaiture for the first default, and the second time to be expelled the

house." At Lincoln's Inn, "in 1 and 2 Philip and Mary, one Mr Wyde, of

this house, was (by special order made upon Ascension day) fined at five

groats, for going in his study gown in Cheapside, on a Sunday, about ten

o'clock before noon; and in Westminister Hall, in the Term time, in the

forenoon." Mr. Wyde's offence was one of remissness rather than of

excessive care for his personal appearance. With regard to beards in the

same reign Lincoln's Inn exacted that such members "as had beards should

pay 12_d._ for every meal they continued them; and every man" was

required "to be shaven upon pain of putting out of commons."

The orders made under Elizabeth with regard to the same or similar

matters are even more humorous and diverse. At the Inner Temple "it was

ordered in 36 Elizabeth (16 Junii), that if any fellow in commons, or

lying in the Louse, did wear either hat or cloak in the Temple Church,

hall, buttry, kitchen, or at the buttry-barr, dresser, or in the garden,

he should forfeit for every such offence vis viiid. And in 42 Eliz. (8

Febr.) that they go not in cloaks, hatts, bootes, and spurs into the

city, but when they ride out of the town." This order was most

displeasing to the young men of the legal academies, who were given to

swaggering amongst the brave gallants of city ordinaries, and delighted

in showing their rich attire at Paul's. The Templar of the Inner Temple

who ventured to wear arms (except his dagger) in hall committed a grave

offence, and was fined five pounds. "No fellow of this house should come

into the hall" it was enacted at the Inner Temple, 38 Eliz. (20 Dec.)

"with any weapons, except his dagger, or his knife, upon pain of

forfeiting the sum of five pounds." In old time the lawyers often

quarrelled and drew swords in hall; and the object of this regulation

doubtless was to diminish the number of scandalous affrays. The Middle

Temple, in 26 Eliz., made six prohibitory rules with regard to apparel,

enacting, "1. That no ruff should be worn. 2. Nor any White color in

doublets or hoses. 3. Nor any facing of velvet in gownes, but by such as

were of the bench. 4. That no gentleman should walk in the streets in

their cloaks, but in gownes. 5. That no hat, or long, or curled hair be

worn. 6. Nor any gown, but such as were of a sad color." Of similar

orders made at Gray's Inn, during Elizabeth's reign, the following edict

of 42 Eliz. (Feb. 11) may be taken as a specimen:--"That no gentleman of

this society do come into the hall, to any meal, with their hats, boots,

or spurs; but with their caps, decently and orderly, according to the

ancient order of this house: upon pain, for every offence, to forfeit

iiis 4d, and for the third offence expulsion. Likewise, that no

gentleman of this society do go into the city, or suburbs, or to walk in

the Fields, otherwise than in his gown, according to the ancient usage

of the gentlemen of the Inns of Court, upon penalty of iiis iiiid for

every offence; and for the third, expulsion and loss of his chamber."

At Lincoln's Inn it was enacted, "in 38 Eliz., that if any Fellow of

this House, being a commoner or repaster, should within the precinct of

this house wear any cloak, boots and spurs, or long hair, he should pay

for every offence five shillings for a fine, and also to be put out of

commons." The attempt to put down beards at Lincoln's Inn failed.

Dugdale says, in his notes on that Inn, "And in 1 Eliz. it was further

ordered, that no fellow of this house should wear any beard above a

fortnight's growth; and that whoso transgresses therein should for the

first offence forfeit 3_s._ 4d., to be paid and cast with his commons;

and for the second time 6_s_ 8d., in like manner to be paid and cast with

his commons; and the third time to be banished the house. But the

fashion at that time of wearing beards grew then so predominant, as that

the very next year following, at a council held at this house, upon the

27th of November, it was agreed and ordered, that all orders before that

time touching beards should be void and repealed." In the same year in

which the authorities of Lincoln's Inn forbade the wearing of beards,

they ordered that no fellow of their society "should wear any sword or

buckler; or cause any to be born after him into the town." This was the

first of the seven orders made in 1 Eliz. for _all_ the Inns of Court;

of which orders the sixth runs thus:--"That none should wear any velvet

upper cap, neither in the house nor city. And that none after the first

day of January then ensuing, should wear any furs, nor any manner of

silk in their apparel, otherwise than he could justifie by the stature

of apparel, made _an._ 24 H. 8, under the penalty aforesaid." In the

eighth year of the following reign it was ordained at Lincoln's Inn

"that no rapier should be worn in this house by any of the society."

Other orders made in the reign of James I., and similar enactments

passed by the Inns in still more recent periods, can be readily found on

reference to Dugdale and later writers upon the usages of lawyers.

On such matters, however, fashion is all-powerful; and however grandly

the benchers of an Inn might talk in their council-chamber, they could

not prevail on their youngsters to eschew beards when beards were the

mode, or to crop the hair of their heads when long tresses were worn by

gallants at court. Even in the time of Elizabeth--when authority was

most anxious that utter-barristers should in matters of costume maintain

that reputation for 'sadness' which is the proverbial characteristic of

apprentices of the law--counsellors of various degrees were conspicuous

throughout the town for brave attire. If we had no other evidence

bearing on the point, knowledge of human nature would make us certain

that the bar imitated Lord Chancellor Hatton's costume. At Gray's Inn,

Francis Bacon was not singular in loving rich clothes, and running into

debt for satin and velvet, jewels and brocade, lace and feathers. Even

of that contemner of frivolous men and vain pursuits, Edward Coke,

biography assures us, "The jewel of his mind was put into a fair case, a

beautiful body with comely countenance; a case which he did wipe and

keep clean, delighting in good clothes, well worn; being wont to say

that the outward neatness of our bodies might be a monitor of purity to

our souls."

The courts of James I. and his son drew some of their most splendid fops

from the multitude of young men who were enjoined by the elders of their

profession to adhere to a costume that was a compromise between the garb

of an Oxford scholar and the guise of a London 'prentice. The same was

the case with Charles II.'s London. Students and barristers outshone the

brightest idlers at Whitehall, whilst within the walls of their Inns

benchers still made a faint show of enforcing old restrictions upon

costume. At a time when every Templar in society wore hair--either

natural or artificial--long and elaborately dressed, Sir William Dugdale

wrote, "To the office of the chief butler" (_i.e._, of the Middle

Temple) "it likewise appertaineth to take the names of those that be

absent at the said solemn revells, and to present them to the bench, as

also inform the bench of such as wear hats, bootes, _long hair_, or the

like (for the which he is commonly out of the young gentlemen's favor)."

CHAPTER XX.

MILLINERY.

Saith Sir William Dugdale, in his chapter concerning the personal attire

of judges--"That peculiar and decent vestments have, from great

antiquity, been used in religious services, we have the authority of

God's sacred precept to Moses, '_Thou shall make holy rayments for Aaron

and his sons, that are to minister unto me, that they may be for glory

and beauty_.'" In this light and flippant age there are men irreverent

enough to smile at the habiliments which our judges wear in court, for

the glory of God and the seemly embellishment of their own natural

beauty.

Like the stuff-gown of the utter-barrister, the robes of English judges

are of considerable antiquity; but antiquaries labor in vain to discover

all the facts relating to their origin and history. Mr. Foss says that

at the Stuart Restoration English judges resumed the robes worn by their

predecessors since the time of Edward I.; but though the judicial robes

of the present day bear a close resemblance to the vestments worn by

that king's judges, the costume of the bench has undergone many

variations since the twentieth year of his reign.

In the eleventh year of Richard II. a distinction was made between the

costumes of the chiefs of the King's Bench and Common Pleas and their

assistant justices; and at the same time the Chief Baron's inferiority

to the Chief Justices was marked by costume.

Henry VI.'s Chief Justice of the King's Bench, Sir John Fortescue, in

his delightful treatise 'De Laudibus Legum Angliae,' describes the

ceremony attending the creation of a justice, and minutely sets forth

the chief items of judicial costume in the Bench and Common Pleas during

his time. "Howbeit," runs Robert Mulcaster's rendering of the 'De

Laudibus,' "the habite of his rayment, hee shall from time to time

forwarde, in some pointes change, but not in all the ensignments

thereof. For beeing serjeaunt at lawe, hee was clothed in a long robe

priestlyke, with a furred cape about his shoulders, and thereupon a

hoode with two labels such as Doctours of the Lawes use to weare in

certayne universityes, with the above described quoyfe. But being once

made a justice, in steede of his hoode, hee shall weare a cloake cloased

upon his righte shoulder, all the other ornaments of a serjeant still

remayning; sauing that a justyce shall weare no partye coloured vesture

as a serjeant may. And his cape is furred with none other than menever,

whereas the serjeant's cape is ever furred with whyte lambe."

Judicial costume varied with the fashion of the day or the whim of the

sovereign in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Subsequent

generations saw the introduction of other changes; and in the time of

Charles I. questions relating to the attire of the common law judges

were involved in so much doubt, and surrounded with so many

contradictory precedents and traditions, that the judges resolved to

simplify matters by conference and unanimous action. The result of their

deliberation was a decree, dated June 6, 1635, to which Sir John

Bramston, Chief of the King's Bench, Sir John Finch, Chief of the Common

Pleas, Sir Humphrey Davenport, Chief of the Exchequer, and all the minor

judges of the three courts, gave subscription.

CHAPTER XXI.

WIGS.

The changes effected in judicial costume during the Commonwealth, like

the reformation introduced at the same period into the language of the

law, were all reversed in 1660, when Charles II.'s judges resumed the

attire and usages of their predecessors in the first Charles's reign.

When he had satisfied himself that monarchical principles were sure of

an enduring triumph, and that their victory would conduce to his own

advantage, great was young Samuel Pepys's delight at seeing the ancient

customs of the lawyers restored, one after another. In October, 1660, he

had the pleasure of seeing "the Lord Chancellor and all the judges

riding on horseback, and going to Westminster Hall, it being the first

day of term." In the February of 1663-4 his eyes were gladdened by the

revival of another old practice. "28th (Lord's Day). Up and walked to

St. Paul's," he writes, "and, by chance, it was an extraordinary day for

the Readers of Inns of the Court and all the Students to come to church,

it being an old ceremony not used these twenty-five years, upon the

first Sunday in Lent. Abundance there was of students, more than there

was room to seat but upon forms, and the church mighty full. One Hawkins

preached, an Oxford man, a good sermon upon these words, 'But the wisdom

from above is first pure, then peaceable.'" Hawkins was no doubt a

humorist, and smiled in the sleeve of his Oxford gown as he told the

law-students that _peace_ characterized the highest sort of _wisdom_.

But, notwithstanding their zeal in reviving old customs, the lawyers of

the Restoration introduced certain novelties into legal life. From Paris

they imported the wig which still remains one of the distinctive

adornments of the English barrister; and from the same centre of

civilization they introduced certain refinements of cookery, which had

been hitherto unknown in the taverns of Fleet Street and the Strand. In

the earlier part of the 'merry monarch's' reign, the eating-house most

popular with young barristers and law-students was kept by a French cook

named Chattelin, who, besides entertaining his customers with delicate

fare and choice wine, enriched our language with the word 'cutlet'--in

his day spelt costelet.

In the seventeenth century, until wigs were generally adopted, the

common law judges, like their precursors for several past generations,

wore in court velvet caps, coifs, and cornered caps. Pictures preserve

to us the appearance of justices, with their heads covered by one or two

of these articles of dress, the moustache in many instances adorning the

lip, and a well-trimmed beard giving point to the judicial chin. The

more common head-dress was the coif and coif-cap, of which it is

necessary to say a few words.

The coif was a covering for the head, made of white lawn or silk, and

common law judges wore it as a sign that they were members of the

learned brotherhood of sergeants. Speaking of the sergeants, Fortescue,

in his 'De Laudibus,' says--"Wherefore to this state and degree hath no

man beene hitherto admitted, except he hath first continued by the space

of sixteene years in the said generall studio of the law, and in token

or signe, that all justices are thus graduat, every one of them alwaies,

while he sitteth in the Kinge's Courts, weareth a white quoyfe of silke;

which is the principal and chiefe insignment of habite, wherewith

serjeants-at-lawe in their creation are decked. And neither the justice,

nor yet the serjeaunt, shall ever put off the quoyfe, no not in the

kinge's presence, though he bee in talke with his majestie's highnesse."

At times it was no easy matter to take the coif from the head; for the

white drapery was fixed to its place with strings, which in the case of

one notorious rascal were not untied without difficulty. In Henry III.'s

reign, when William de Bossy was charged in open court with corruption

and dishonesty, he claimed the benefit of clerical orders, and

endeavored to remove his coif in order that he might display his

tonsure; but before he could effect his purpose, an officer of the court

seized him by the throat and dragged him off to prison. "Voluit," says

Matthew Paris, "ligamenta coifae suae solvere, ut, palam monstraret se

tonsuram habere clericalem; sed non est permissus. Satelles vero eum

arripiens, non per coifae ligamina sed per guttur eum apprehendens,

traxit ad carcerem." From which occurrence Spelman drew the untenable,

and indeed, ridiculous inference, that the coif was introduced as a

veil, beneath which ecclesiastics who wished to practice as judges or

counsel in the secular courts, might conceal the personal mark of their

order.

The coif-cap is still worn in undiminished proportions by judges when

they pass sentence of death, and is generally known as the 'black cap.'

In old time the justice, on making ready to pronounce the awful words

which consigned a fellow-creature to a horrible death, was wont to draw

up the flat, square, dark cap, that sometimes hung at the nape of his

neck or the upper part of his shoulder. Having covered the whiteness of

his coif, and partially concealed his forehead and brows with the sable

cloth, he proceeded to utter the dread sentence with solemn composure

and firmness. At present the black cap is assumed to strike terror into

the hearts of the vulgar; formerly it was pulled over the eyes, to hide

the emotion of the judge.

Shorn of their original size, the coif and the coif-cap may still be

seen in the wigs worn by sergeants at the present day. The black blot

which marks the crown of a sergeant's wig is generally spoken of as his

coif, but this designation is erroneous. The black blot is the coif-cap;

and those who wish to see the veritable coif must take a near view of

the wig, when they will see that between the black silk and the

horsehair there lies a circular piece of white lawn, which is the

vestige of that pure raiment so reverentially mentioned by Fortescue. On

the general adoption of wigs, the sergeants, like the rest of the bar,

followed in the wake of fashion: but at first they wore their old coifs

and caps over their false hair. Finding this plan cumbersome, they

gradually diminished the size of the ancient covering, until the coif

and cap became the absurd thing which resembles a bald place covered

with court-plaster quite as much as the rest of the wig resembles human

hair.

Whilst the common law judges of the seventeenth century, before the

introduction of wigs, wore the undiminished coif and coif-cap, the Lord

Chancellor, like the Speaker of the House of Commons, wore a hat. Lord

Keeper Williams, the last clerical holder of the seals, used to wear in

the Court of Chancery a round, conical hat. Bradshaw, sitting as

president of the commissioners who tried Charles I., wore a hat instead

of the coif and cap which he donned at other times as a serjeant of law.

Kennett tells us that "Mr. Sergeant Bradshaw, the President, was afraid

of some tumult upon such new and unprecedented insolence as that of

sitting judge upon his king; and therefore, beside other defence, he had

a thick big-crowned beaver hat, lined with plated steel, to ward off

blows." It is scarcely credible that Bradshaw resorted to such means for

securing his own safety, for in the case of a tumult, a hat, however

strong, would have been an insignificant protection against popular

fury. If conspirators had resolved to take his life, they would have

tried to effect their purpose by shooting or stabbing him, not by

knocking him on the head. A steel-plated hat would have been but a poor

guard against a bludgeon, and a still poorer defence against poignard or

pistol. It is far more probable that in laying aside the ordinary

head-dress of an English common law judge, and in assuming a

high-crowned hat, the usual covering of a Speaker, Bradshaw endeavored

to mark the exceptional character of the proceeding, and to remind the

public that he acted under parliamentary sanction. Whatever the wearer's

object, England was satisfied that he had a notable purpose, and

persisted in regarding the act as significant of cowardice or of

insolence, of anxiety to keep within the lines of parliamentary

privilege or of readiness to set all law at defiance. At the time and

long after Bradshaw's death, that hat caused an abundance of discussion;

it was a problem which men tried in vain to solve, an enigma that

puzzled clever heads, a riddle that was interpreted as an insult, a

caution, a protest, a menace, a doubt. Oxford honored it with a Latin

inscription, and a place amongst the curiosities of the university, and

its memory is preserved to Englishmen of the present day in the familiar

lines--

"Where England's monarch once uncovered sat,

And Bradshaw bullied in a broad-brimmed hat."

Judges were by no means unanimous with regard to the adoption of wigs,

some of them obstinately refusing to disfigure themselves with false

tresses, and others displaying a foppish delight in the new decoration.

Sir Matthew Hale, who died in 1676, to the last steadily refused to

decorate himself with artificial locks. The likeness of the Chief

Justice that forms the frontispiece to Burnet's memoir of the lawyer,

represents him in his judicial robes, wearing his SS collar, and having

on his head a cap--not the coif-cap, but one of the close-fitting

skull-caps worn by judges in the seventeenth century. Such skull-caps,

it has been observed in a prior page of this work, were worn by

barristers under their wigs, and country gentlemen at home, during the

last century. Into such caps readers have seen Sir Francis North put his

fees. The portrait of Sir Cresswell Levinz (who returned to the bar on

dismissal from the bench in 1686) shows that he wore a full-bottomed wig

whilst he was a judge; whereas Sir Thomas Street, who remained a judge

till the close of James II.'s reign, wore his own hair and a coif-cap.

When Shaftesbury sat in court as Lord High Chancellor of England he wore

a hat, which Roger North is charitable enough to think might have been a

black hat. "His lordship," says the 'Examen,' "regarded censure so

little, that he did not concern himself to use a decent habit as became

a judge of his station; for he sat upon the bench in an ash-colored gown

silver-laced, and full-ribboned pantaloons displayed, without any black

at all in his garb, unless it were his hat, which, now, I cannot

positively say, though I saw him, was so."

Even so late as Queen Anne's reign, which witnessed the introduction of

three-cornered hats, a Lord Keeper wore his own hair in court instead

of a wig, until he received the sovereign's order to adopt the venerable

disguise of a full-bottomed wig. Lady Sarah Cowper recorded of her

father, 1705:--"The queen after this was persuaded to trust a Whigg

ministry, and in the year 1705, Octr., she made my father Ld. Keeper of

the Great Seal, in the 41st year of his age--'tis said the youngest Lord

Keeper that ever had been. He looked very young, and wearing his own

hair made him appear yet more so, which the queen observing, obliged him

to cut it off, telling him the world would say she had given the seals

to a boy."

The young Lord Keeper of course obeyed; and when he appeared for the

first time at court in a wig, his aspect was so grave and reverend that

the queen had to look at him twice before she recognized him. More than

half a century later, George II. experienced a similar difficulty, when

Lord Hardwicke, after the close of his long period of official service,

showed himself at court in a plain suit of black velvet, with a bag and

sword. Familiar with the appearance of the Chancellor dressed in

full-bottomed wig and robes, the king failed to detect his old friend

and servant in the elderly gentleman who, in the garb of a private

person of quality, advanced and rendered due obeisance. "Sir, it is Lord

Hardwicke," whispered a lord in waiting who stood near His Majesty's

person, and saw the cause of the cold reception given to the

ex-Chancellor. But unfortunately the king was not more familiar with the

ex-Chancellor's title than his appearance, and in a disastrous endeavor

to be affable inquired, with an affectation of interest, "How long has

your lordship been in town?" The peer's surprise and chagrin were great

until the monarch, having received further instruction from the courtly

prompter at his elbow, frankly apologized in bad English and with noisy

laughter. "Had Lord Hardwicke," says Campbell, "worn such a uniform as

that invented by George IV. for ex-Chancellors (very much like a Field

Marshal's), he could not have been mistaken for a common man."

The judges who at the first introduction of wigs refused to adopt them

were prone to express their dissatisfaction with those coxcombical

contrivances when exhibited upon the heads of counsel; and for some

years prudent juniors, anxious to win the favorable opinion of anti-wig

justices, declined to obey the growing fashion. Chief Justice Hale, a

notable sloven, conspicuous amongst common law judges for the meanness

of his attire, just as Shaftesbury was conspicuous in the Court of

Chancery for foppishness, cherished lively animosity for two sorts of

legal practitioners--attorneys who wore swords, and young Templars who

adorned themselves with periwigs. Bishop Burnet says of Hale: "He was a

great encourager of all young persons that he saw followed their books

diligently, to whom he used to give directions concerning the method of

their study, with a humanity and sweetness that wrought much on all that

came near him; and in a smiling, pleasant way he would admonish them, if

he saw anything amiss in them; particularly if they went too fine in

their clothes, he would tell them it did not become their profession. He

was not pleased to see students wear long periwigs, or attorneys go with

swords, so that such men as would not be persuaded to part with those

vanities, when they went to him laid them aside and went as plain as

they could, to avoid the reproof which they knew they might otherwise

expect." In England, however, barristers almost universally wore wigs at

the close of the seventeenth century; but north of the Tweed advocates

wore cocked hats and powdered hair so late as the middle of the

eighteenth century. When Alexander Wedderburn joined the Scotch bar in

1754, wigs had not come into vogue with the members of his profession.

Many are the good stories told of judicial wigs, and amongst the best of

them, is the anecdote which that malicious talker Samuel Rogers

delighted to tell at Edward Law's expense. "Lord Ellenborough," says the

'Table-Talk,' "was once about to go on circuit, when Lady Ellenborough

said that she should like to accompany him. He replied that he had no

objection provided she did not encumber the carriage with bandboxes,

which were his utter abhorrence. During the first day's journey Lord

Ellenborough, happening to stretch his legs, struck his foot against

something below the seat; he discovered that it was a bandbox. Up went

the window, and out went the bandbox. The coachman stopped, and the

footman, thinking that the bandbox had tumbled out of the window by some

extraordinary chance, was going to pick it up, when Lord Ellenborough

furiously called out, 'Drive on!' The bandbox, accordingly, was left by

the ditch-side. Having reached the county town where he was to officiate

as judge, Lord Ellenborough proceeded to array himself for his

appearance in the court-house. 'Now,' said he, 'where's my wig?--where

_is_ my wig?' 'My lord,' replied his attendant, 'it was thrown out of

the carriage window!'"

Changing together with fashion, barristers ceased to wear their wigs in

society as soon as the gallants and bucks of the West End began to

appear with their natural tresses in theatres and ball rooms; but the

conservative genius of the law has hitherto triumphed over the attempts

of eminent advocates to throw the wig out of Westminster Hall. When Lord

Campbell argued the great Privilege case, he obtained permission to

appear without a wig; but this concession to a counsel--who, on that

occasion, spoke for sixteen hours--was accompanied with an intimation

that "it was not to be drawn into precedent."

Less wise or less fortunate than the bar, the judges of England wore

their wigs in society after advocates of all ranks and degrees had

agreed to lay aside the professional head-gear during hours of

relaxation. Lady Eldon's good taste and care for her husband's comfort,

induced Lord Eldon, soon after his elevation to the pillow of the Common

Pleas, to beg the king's permission that he might put off his judicial

wig on leaving the courts, in which as Chief Justice he would be

required to preside. The petition did not meet with a favorable

reception. For a minute George III. hesitated; whereupon Eldon supported

his prayer by observing, with the fervor of an old-fashioned Tory, that

the lawyer's wig was a detestable innovation--unknown in the days of

James I. and Charles the Martyr, the judges of which two monarchs would

have rejected as an insult any proposal that they should assume a

head-dress fit only for madmen at masquerades or mummers at country

wakes. "What! what!" cried the king, sharply; and then, smiling

mischievously, as he suddenly saw a good answer to the plausible

argument, he added--"True, my lord, Charles the First's judges wore no

wigs, but they wore beards. You may do the same, if you like. You may

please yourself about wearing or not wearing your wig; but mind, if you

please yourself by imitating the old judges, as to the head--you must

please me by imitating them as to the chin. You may lay aside your wig;

but if you do--you must wear a beard." Had he lived in these days, when

barristers occasionally wear beards in court, and judges are not less

conspicuous than the junior bar for magnitude of nose and whisker, Eldon

would have accepted the condition. But the last year of the last

century, was the very centre and core of that time which may be called

the period of close shavers; and John Scott, the decorous and

respectable, would have endured martyrdom rather than have grown a

beard, or have allowed his whiskers to exceed the limits of mutton-chop

whiskers.

As Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, and subsequently as Chancellor,

Eldon wore his wig whenever he appeared in general society; but in the

privacy of his own house he gratified Lady Eldon by laying aside the

official head-gear. That this was his usage, the gossips of the

law-courts knew well; and at Carlton House, when the Prince of Wales was

most indignant with the Chancellor, who subsequently became his familiar

friend, courtiers were wont to soothe the royal rage with diverting

anecdotes of the attention which the odious lawyer lavished on the

natural hair that gave his Bessie so much delight. On one occasion, when

Eldon was firmly supporting the cause of the Princess of Wales, 'the

first gentleman of Europe' forgot common decency so far, that he made a

jeering allusion to this instance of the Chancellor's domestic

amiability. "I am not the sort of person," growled the prince with an

outbreak of peevishness, "to let my hair grow under my wig to please my

wife." With becoming dignity Eldon answered--"Your Royal Highness

condescends to be personal. I beg leave to withdraw;" and suiting his

action to his words, the Chancellor made a low bow to the angry prince,

and retired. The prince sneaked out of the position by an untruth,

instead of an apology. On the following day he caused a written

assurance to be conveyed to the Chancellor, that the offensive speech

"was nothing personal, but simply a proverb--a proverbial way of saying

a man was governed by his wife." It is needless to say that the

expression was not proverbial, but distinctly and grossly personal. Lord

Malmesbury's comment on this affair is "Very absurd of Lord Eldon; but

explained by his having literally done what the prince said." Lord

Eldon's conduct absurd! What was the prince's?

CHAPTER XXII.

BANDS AND COLLARS.

Bands came into fashion with Englishmen many years before wigs, but like

wigs they were worn in general society before they became a recognized

and distinctive feature of professional costume. Ladies of rank dyed

their hair, and wore false tresses in Elizabethan England; but their

example was not extensively followed by the men of their time--although

the courtiers of the period sometimes donned 'periwinkes,' to the

extreme disgust of the multitude, and the less stormy disapprobation of

the polite. The frequency with which bands are mentioned in Elizabethan

literature, affords conclusive evidence that they were much worn toward

the close of the sixteenth century; and it is also matter of certainty

that they were known in England at a still earlier period. Henry VIII.

had "4 shirte bands of silver with ruffes to the same, whereof one was

perled with golde;" and in 1638 Peacham observed, "King Henry VIII. was

the first that ever wore a band about his neck, and that very plain,

without lace, and about an inch or two in depth. We may see how the case

is altered, he is not a gentleman, or in the fashion, whose band of

Italian cutwork standeth him not at the least in three or four pounds;

yea, a sempster in Holborn told me there are of threescore pound price

apiece." That the fops of Charles I.'s reign were spending money on a

fashion originally set by King Henry the Bluff, was the opinion also of

Taylor the Water Poet, who in 1630 wrote--

"Now up alofte I mount unto the ruffe,

Which into foolish mortals pride doth puffe;

Yet ruffes' antiquity is here but small--

Within this eighty years not one at all;

For the Eighth Henry (so I understand)

Was the first king that ever wore a _band_;

And but a _falling-band_, plaine with a hem;

All other people knew no use of them.

Yet imitation in small time began

To grow, that it the kingdom overran;

The little falling-bands encreased to ruffes,

Ruffes (growing great) were waited on by cuffes,

And though our frailties should awake our care,

We make our ruffes as careless as we are."

In regarding the falling-band as the germ of the ruff, the Water-Poet

differs from those writers who, with greater appearance of reason,

maintain that the ruff was the parent of the band. Into this question

concerning origin of species, there is no occasion to enter on the

present occasion. It is enough to state that in the earlier part of the

seventeenth century bands or collars--bands stiffened and standing at

the backward part, and bands falling upon the shoulder and breast--were

articles of costume upon which men of expensive and modish habits spent

large sums.

In the days of James I., when standing bands were still the fashion, and

falling-bands had not come in, the Inns of Court men were very

particular about the stiffness, cut, and texture of their collars.

Speaking of the Inns of Court men, Sir Thomas Overbury, (who was

poisoned in 1613), says: "He laughs at every man whose band sits not

well, or that hath not a fair shoe-type, and is ashamed to be in any

man's company who wears not his cloathes well."

If portraits may be trusted, the falling-band of Charles I.'s time, bore

considerable resemblance to the falling neck-frill, which twenty years

since was very generally worn by quite little boys, and is still sometimes

seen on urchins who are about six years of age. The bands worn by the

barristers and clergy of our own time are modifications of this antique

falling-band, and like the coif cap of the modern sergeant, they bear

only a faint likeness to their originals. But though bands--longer than

those still worn by clergymen--have come to be a distinctive feature of

legal costume, the bar was slow to adopt falling-collars--regarding them

as a strange and fanciful innovation. Whitelock's personal narrative

furnishes pleasant testimony that the younger gentry of Charles I.'s

England adopted the new collar before the working lawyers.

"At the Quarter-Sessions of Oxford," says Whitelock, speaking of the

year 1635, when he was only thirty years of age, "I was put into the

chair in court, though I was in colored clothes, a sword by my side, and

a falling-band, which was unusual for lawyers in those days, and in this

garb I gave the charge to the Grand Jury. I took occasion to enlarge on

the point of jurisdiction in the temporal courts in matters

ecclesiastical, and the antiquity thereof, which I did the rather

because the spiritual men began in those days to swell higher than

ordinary, and to take it as an injury to the Church that anything

savoring of the spirituality, should be within the cognisance of

ignorant laymen. The gentlemen and freeholders seemed well pleased with

my charge, and the management of the business of the sessions; and said

they perceived one might speak as good sense in a falling-band as in a

ruff." At this time Whitelock had been about seven years at the bar; but

at the Quarter-Sessions the young Templar was playing the part of

country squire, and as his words show, he was dressed in a fashion that

directly violated professional usage.

Whitelock's speech seems to have been made shortly before the bar

accepted the falling-band as an article of dress admissible in courts of

law. Towards the close of Charles's reign, such bands were very

generally worn in Westminster Hall by the gentlemen of the long robe;

and after the Restoration, a barrister would as soon have thought of

appearing at the King's Bench without his gown as without his band.

Unlike the bar-bands of the present time--which are lappets of fine

lawn, of simple make--the bands worn by Charles II.'s lawyers were

dainty and expensive articles, such as those which Peacham exclaimed

against in the preceding reign. At that date the Templar in prosperous

circumstances had his bands made entirely of point lace, or of fine lawn

edged with point lace; and as he wore them in society as well as in

court, he was constantly requiring a fresh supply of them. Few accidents

were more likely to ruffle a Templar's equanimity than a mishap to his

band occurring through his own inadvertence or carelessness on the part

of a servant. At table the pieces of delicate lace-work were exposed to

many dangers. Continually were they stained with wine or soiled with

gravy, and the young lawyer was deemed a marvel of amiability who could

see his point lace thus defiled and abstain from swearing. "I remember,"

observes Roger North, when he is showing the perfect control in which

his brother Francis kept his temper, at his table a stupid servant spilt

a glass of red wine upon his point band and clothes. "He only wiped his

face and clothes with the napkin, and 'Here,' said he, 'take this away;'

and no more."

In 'The London Spy,' Ned Ward shows that during Queen Anne's reign legal

practitioners of the lowest sort were particular to wear bands.

Describing the pettifogger, Ward says, "He always talks with as great

assurance as if he understood what he pretends to know; and always wears

a band, in which lies his gravity and wisdom." At the same period a

brisk trade was carried on in Westminster Hall by the sempstresses who

manufactured bands and cuffs, lace ruffles, and lawn kerchiefs for the

grave counsellors and young gallants of the Inns of Court. "From

thence," says the author of 'The London Spy', "we walked down by the

sempstresses, who were very nicely digitising and pleating turnsovers

and ruffles for the young students, and coaxing them with amorous looks,

obliging cant, and inviting gestures, to give so extravagant a price for

what they buy."

From collars of lace and lawn, let us turn to collars of precious metal.

Antiquarians have unanimously rejected the fanciful legend adopted by

Dugdale concerning the SS collar, as well as many not less ingenious

interpretations of the mystic letters; and at the present time it is

almost unanimously settled that the SS collar is the old Lancastrian

badge, corresponding to the Yorkist collar of Roses and Suns, and that

the S is either the initial of the sentimental word 'Souvenez,' or, as

Mr. Beltz maintains, the initial letter of the sentimental motto,

'Souvenez-vous de moi.' In Mr. Foss's valuable work, 'The Judges of

England,' at the commencement of the seventh volume, the curious reader

may find an excellent summary of all that has been or can be said about

the origin of this piece of feudal livery, which, having at one time

been very generally assumed by all gentle and fairly prosperous

partisans of the House of Lancaster, has for many generations been the

distinctive badge of a few official persons. In the second year of Henry

IV. an ordinance forbade knights and Esquires to wear the collar, save

in the king's presence; and in the reign of Henry VIII., the privilege

of wearing the collar was taken away from simple esquires by the 'Acte

for Reformacyon of Excesse in Apparayle,' 24 Henry VIII. c. 13, which

ordained "That no man oneless he be a knight ... weare any color of

Gold, named a color of S." Gradually knights and non-official persons

relinquished the decoration; and in our own day the right to bear it is

restricted to the two Chief Justices, the Chief Baron, the

sergeant-trumpetor, and all the officers of the Heralds' College,

pursuivants excepted; "unless," adds Mr. Foss, "the Lord Mayor of London

is to be included, whose collar is somewhat similar, and is composed of

twenty-eight SS, fourteen roses, thirteen knots; and measures sixty-four

inches."

CHAPTER XXIII.

BAGS AND GOWNS.

A Book About Lawyers · 第 11 / 15 章