CHAPTER LXI.
NEW PALACE YARD AND WESTMINSTER HALL.
"I can re-people with the Past; and of
The Present there is still, for eye and thought,
And meditation chasten'd down, enough."—Childe Harold.
New Palace Yard in the Seventeenth Century—The High Gate—"Paradise" and the "Constabulary"—The Fountain—The Ancient Clock-tower
and "Old Tom"—An Old Tale re-told—A King's Lamentation—Perkin Warbeck in the Stocks—Punishments for Libel—Leighton and
Prynne in the Pillory—Execution of the Earl of Holland, the Duke of Hamilton, and Lord Capel—Titus Oates—The "Turk's Head"
and the Rota Club—Statues of Lord Derby and George Canning—William Godwin, the Novelist—Westminster Hall—Heads of the
Regicides exposed on the Top of Westminster Hall—The Fate of Cromwell's Head—Old Views of the Hall—Shops there—The Timber
Roof—The First Day of Term—London Lickpenny—Peter the Great and his Lawyers.
Fortunately we are not unacquainted with the
general appearance of Westminster in the reign of
Charles I., for among the etchings of Hollar,
known as "the Long London Views," are sketches
of the Parliament House, Westminster Hall, and
the Abbey. Two of them are given on page 403.
They were worked at Antwerp, in 1647, and show
the whole river frontage, with wherries and covered
boats. St. Stephen's Chapel stands well out, over
a garden covered with trees, but it has lost the highpitched roof which once surmounted it. Between
Westminster Hall and the river is a row of low
houses, from which stairs lead down to the river;
and there is another garden, with stairs, near the
present site of Cannon Row.
At the northern end of Westminster Hall is an
open square, with a tower near where now is
the entrance to King Street; there are a quantity
of sheds against the chief entrance, which is continued on either side by wings of the Tudor style
of architecture. At the north-west corner of the
square is an entrance into St. James's Park under a
gateway, standing as nearly as possible where now
is Storey's Gate. In the foreground, almost in the
centre, stands a conduit in the classical style, and
the centre of the square is filled with heavy rumbling
carriages, pedestrians, and market-women.
Such was the appearance, in the middle of the
seventeenth century, of the open space fronting the
principal entrance to Westminster Hall, and known
as New Palace Yard, so called from its having been
the great yard or court in which William Rufus
intended to build a new palace, of which Westminster Hall was to have formed no mean part.
Indeed, the Abbey, the Church of St. Margaret,
and the Hall, which now stand almost in isolation,
were at one time far more closely connected with
each other and St. Stephen's Chapel, and formed
part of one harmonious group. Smith writes, in
his "Antiquities of Westminster:"—"A stone wall,
with some houses and a clock-house, and also a
gate towards the Woolstaple, occupied, in the time
of Richard II., the north side of New Palace Yard;
and a similar stone wall, with a gate at the end of
Union Street, enclosed it on the west. This wall,
by a gate at the north end of what is now St.
Margaret Street, was connected with another like
stone wall, extending westwards from the west side
of Westminster Hall, so that New Palace Yard was
completely enclosed; and lastly, at the south end
of St. Margaret Street, across the north end of the
present Abingdon Street, were in like manner stone
walls with gates in them. By these means, with the
Old Palace on the east and south sides, and a close
adjoining Westminster Abbey, and the Abbey itself
on the west, the close having a stone wall round it,
Old Palace Yard, like the New, was completely
enclosed."
The gate on the west side was called the High
Gate, from its stateliness and beauty. It was commenced by Richard II., in 1384, on the east side
of Union Street, and at the entrance of the Broad
Sanctuary, but never completely finished; it was
used for a short time as a prison, and was demolished in the reign of Queen Anne. The gateway on the south side, opening into a lane which
led to St. Margaret's Church, was taken down a
quarter of a century later, as "obstructing the
passage of members on their way to Parliament."
Upon the east side stood portions of the palace,
which likewise had a gate beyond the Star Chamber,
close to the King's Stairs, upon the bank of the
Thames, and leading to the stairs. This water-gate
was pulled down, to make room for the south-west
abutment of the new bridge, at its erection.
"Of all the remarkable places in England,"
writes Dr. Mackay, in his Book on the Thames,
"this and its neighbourhood is perhaps the most
remarkable; and no other place upon the Thames—not even the princely towers and purlieus of
Windsor itself—can vie with these in the recollections which they recall or the emotions which they
excite. There stands yet—survivor amid calamity (fn. 1) —the elegant Hall of Westminster, with its entrances
into the Chief Courts of Justice of this kingdom:
courts in which Gascoigne, More, Hale, Bacon,
Camden, Holt, Coke, Mansfield, Eldon, Brougham,
and a host of other eminent and learned men,
have presided. There also are the remains of
the Houses of Lords and Commons, where the
liberties of England were gained gradually but
surely, through long centuries of doubt and darkness. There began the struggle for freedom, which
never ceased till its object was won; there was
heard the eloquence of all the patriots that have
arisen in our land since the days of Pym, Hollis,
and Hampden; there was tyranny resisted by the
tongue and the vote, stronger weapons in a right
cause than the glaire or the gun; there was the
right established, the wrong cast down, civilisation
extended, and slavery abolished. There in former
days were to be seen and heard a Cranmer, a
Strafford, a Laud, and a Cromwell. Nearer our
own age, a Marlborough, a Harley, a Walpole,
a Bolingbroke, and a Chatham. Nearer still, a
Pitt, a Fox, a Burke, a Grattan, and a Sheridan;
a Canning, a Mackintosh, a Wilberforce and a
Romilly; with many others who have written their
names for good or for evil on the pages of history.
And here too, in our own day, walking and
breathing among us are to be seen, in this
appointed season, a Wellington, a Brougham, a
Denman, a Melbourne, a Russell, a Durham, a
Peel, and an O'Connell, with hundreds more of
great yet lesser note, whose names are inscribed
already in the book of history, but whose deeds
are not yet ended, and who are destined, perhaps,
hereafter to make a still greater figure in the
annals of the mightiest empire that the world ever
saw."
From Mr. Mackenzie Walcott's "Memorials of
Westminster," we learn that in Palace Yard were
anciently pales about five feet high, put up to
protect foot-passengers from mud and from danger
also. Within these rails, close to St. Stephen's
Chapel and the private Palace, were two messuages
called "Paradise" and the "Constabulary," both
of which were granted by Henry VI. to John,
Duke of Bedford. Towards the north-west corner
of the court stood a beautiful fountain, the water
of which fell in large cascades, and on the occasion of special state ceremonies was made to run
with streams of choice wine. King Henry VI.
granted permission to the parish to make use of
the surplus water which flowed from the conduit;
and under the date 1524 there is the following
note in the churchwardens' accounts:—"Memm.
The King's Charter for the Condett at the Pales'gate remayneth in the custody of the Churchwardens." The fountain was removed in the reign
of Charles II.
On the front of a house which formerly stood
exactly opposite the entrance into Westminster
Hall was a dial inscribed with the line from Virgil,
"Discite justitiam moniti," an inscription which is
said to refer to a fine on a certain Chief Justice,
named Ralph de Hingham, or De Hengham, in the
reign of Henry III., for erasing or tampering with
the Court Roll. The fine was employed, as we
have stated in a previous chapter, in the construction of a bell-tower containing a clock, which, as
it struck the hours, was intended to remind the
ermined judges, as they sat in the Hall, of the fate
of their "brother" and predecessor. The clocktower remained here till 1698, when the great
bell, called "Old Tom," was granted to the new
cathedral of St. Paul's, whither it was removed,
and stood under a shed in the churchyard until the
turret was prepared for its reception.
From the fact that, previous to the grant of
"Old Tom," St. Paul's was destitute of any heavy
bell, it has been conjectured that this must have
been the distant clock which the sentinel on duty
at Windsor Castle, during the reign of William III.,
declared struck thirteen instead of twelve times at
midnight, in order to prove that he could not have
been guilty of sleeping upon his post, as he was
accused by the guard who relieved him after the
due time. The story is thus recorded in the
Public Advertiser, Friday, June 22, 1770:—"Mr.
John Hatfield, who died last Monday, at his house
in Glasshouse Yard, Aldersgate, aged 102 years,
was a soldier in the reign of William and Mary,
and the person who was tried and condemned by
a court-martial for falling asleep on his duty upon
the Terrace at Windsor. He absolutely denied
the charge against him, and solemnly declared that
he heard St. Paul's clock strike thirteen; the truth
of which was much doubted by the court, because
of the great distance. But whilst he was under
sentence of death, an affidavit was made by several
persons that the clock actually did strike thirteen
instead of twelve; whereupon he received his
Majesty's pardon. The above his friends caused
to be engraved on his plate, to satisfy the world of
the truth of a story which has been much doubted,
though he had often confirmed it to many gentlemen, and a few days before his death told it to
several of his neighbours. He enjoyed his sight
and memory to the day of his death."
Palace Yard in its day has witnessed strange
scenes. Here, in 1297, when deserted by the
Constable and Marshal of England, Edward I.,
with his son Edward, the Primate, and the Earl of
Warwick, "mounting a platform erected against the
front of Westminster Hall, lamented the burdensome taxes which his wars had laid upon England,
and assuring the assemblage that he was proceeding
to Flanders for the sake of his people, commended
his son to their love." The air was rent with the
outburst of unanimous loyalty which responded to
his appeal.
Towards the close of the year 1497, Perkin
Warbeck was brought from the Tower to Westminster; and in the following year he was taken,
while attempting to make his escape out of England,
and was set for a whole day in the stocks upon a
scaffold before the entrance to Westminster Hall,
where he read his confession, written with his
own hand, "not without innumerable reproaches,
mocks, and scornings."
John Stubs, the Puritan attorney, and Robert
Page his servant, had their hands cut off in New
Palace Yard, in 1580, for a libel against Queen
Elizabeth; and a few years later, William Parry, a
prisoner drawn from the Tower, was here hung
and quartered for high treason. Here, in 1587,
Thomas Lovelace, by a sentence of the Star
Chamber, inflicted for "false accusations of his
kinsmen," was "carried on horseback about the
Hall, with his face to the taile;" he was then
pilloried, and had one of his ears cut off. In 1612,
Robert Creighton, Lord Sanquire, a Scotch nobleman, was hanged for murder in front of the Hall.
(See Vol. I., page 184.)
In Palace Yard the pillory was frequently set
up in the days of the Stuarts, and even of our
Hanoverian sovereigns. Thus we read that in
1630, Alexander Leighton, the father of the Archbishop, was put into the pillory, after a public
whipping, for "a fanatical and rude libel on the
queen and bishops." Four years later, William
Prynne, the irrepressible assailant of the clergy,
being found guilty in the Star Chamber Court of
being both a schismatic and a libeller, was sentenced to be branded on both cheeks with the
letters S. L., to lose his ear in the pillory in Palace
Yard, and to be imprisoned for life; the letters
S. L., meaning "schismatical libeller," but which he
wittily declared must stand for "Stigmata Laudis,"
the brands of Archbishop Laud. Fortune, however, stood his friend; his own party came into
power, and he was not only released from prison,
but got a seat in Parliament in 1640.
Amongst those who have suffered by the headsman's axe in front of Westminster Hall was Henry
Rich, first Earl of Holland. He had been employed by Charles I. in various posts, and amongst
other offices had negotiated the marriage between
the King and Henrietta Maria. But afterwards
he changed sides repeatedly, and was "faithful to
neither cause, fighting at one time for the King,
and at another for the Parliament." At last he
was captured by the stern Roundheads, who, tired
of his never-ending changes, put an end to him
by beheading him, in company with the Duke of
Hamilton and Lord Capel, in 1649. "Hamilton
and Capel," writes Mr. Larwood, "died with dignity; but Lord Holland, after having petitioned
for his life, thought fit to die like a coxcomb, and
appeared on the scaffold dressed in white satin
trimmed with silver, which made Bishop Warburton
say that he 'lived like a knave and died like a
fool.'"
In the year 1685 Titus Oates was stripped of
his ecclesiastical habit, and led round Westminster
Hall with a placard set upon him declaring his
iniquity; and he afterwards stood a narrow chance
of being torn to pieces in the pillory. A wag of
the day, speaking of Titus Oates, wittily said—if we
may take "Joe Miller's Jest Book" for truth—"that
he was a rogue in grain, and deserved to be well
threshed."
In 1764, "a libel on the laws of the land," in
the shape of a pamphlet published under the title
of "Le Droit du Roy," a "dangerous essay, and
condemned by both Houses of Parliament," says
Hunter, was burnt by the common hangman before
the gate of Westminster Hall; and in the next
year John Williams was pilloried here for having
published the celebrated No. 45 of Wilkes' North
Briton.
In New Palace Yard, near the Palace Stairs, was
the "Turk's Head," otherwise known as "Miles'
Coffee House," where the noted Rota Club met.
This club was founded by James Harrington, in
1659, as a kind of debating society, for the dissemination of republican opinions, which he had
glorified in the "Oceana." The design of this club
was to promote the changing of certain members of
Parliament annually by rotation.
On the formation of Bridge Street the dimensions
of New Palace Yard were somewhat contracted by
the building of new houses on the north side; but
on their removal, in 1864, the Government decided
upon leaving the space unencumbered with buildings, and have erected in their place simply an
ornamental railing. The eastern side of the enclosure is formed by part of the new Houses of
Parliament and by the southern side of the front of
Westminster Hall, and the not very inviting Law
Courts. Westward, and extending as far as the
Sessions Houses, the ground has been laid out as
an ornamental garden, intersected by broad carriagedrives and footpaths. The various divisions are
formed with grass-plots bordered with flowers, and
a low ornamental railing. Here are bronze statues
of the late Lord Derby and George Canning; the
former is by Mr. Noble, R.A., and the latter by the
late Sir Richard Westmacott.
At his official residence in New Palace Yard,
close by the entrance to Westminster Hall, died in
the year 1836, William Godwin, the novelist. He
was a native of Wisbeach, in Cambridgeshire, and
the son of a Dissenting minister. Beginning life
as a Nonconformist minister, he afterwards associated with the violent and democratic politicians
of the day, and ultimately became an avowed freethinker and despiser of religion, and the companion
and friend of a party amongst whom were Holcroft, Thelwall, Hardy, and Horne Tooke, whom
he defended when afterwards arraigned for high
treason. Godwin then courted and frequented the
society of Lauderdale, Fox, and Sheridan. He
married the celebrated Miss Mary Wolstonecraft,
authoress of "A Vindication of the Rights of
Women," by whom he had a daughter who married
the poet Shelley, and who was herself an authoress
of some note. Godwin wrote and published the
"Memoirs of Mary Wolstonecraft," "An Essay on
Population," in opposition to Malthus, "A History
of the Commonwealth of England," and other
political works. He is, however, best known as a
novelist by his story of "Caleb Williams," &c.
With the exception of the great door and window
facing Palace Yard, Westminster Hall, which we
are now about to enter, has not a very commanding
aspect in its exterior; indeed, nearly all that
strikes the eye from the outside is of comparatively
modern construction. The front is bounded on
each side by projecting square embattled towers.
The towers are pierced with pointed windows, and
beneath are niches with canopies, which still show
traces of their original carved work; in these niches
is a series of statues of the kings of England, from
the time of Stephen, standing in rows above each
other. Between the towers is the body of the Hall,
rising with a high pointed roof, and terminated by
a pinnacle; and above the spacious porch is a large
and magnificent window. In the spandrels of the
doorway are the arms of Edward the Confessor and
Richard II., together with other sculptures.
Some time after the Restoration, the head of
Oliver Cromwell, whose remains had been dug up
from their burial-place at Tyburn, was set up on
the top of Westminster Hall along with those of
the regicides, Ireton and Bradshaw. The following
authentic account of the subsequent fate of the
head we take from a letter, signed "Senex," in the
Times of December 31, 1874:—
"Ireton's head was in the middle, and Cromwell's and Bradshaw's on either side. Cromwell's
head, being embalmed, remained exposed to the
atmosphere for twenty-five years, and then one
stormy night it was blown down, and picked up by
the sentry, who, hiding it under his cloak, took it
home and secreted it in the chimney corner, and,
as inquiries were constantly being made about it
by the Government, it was only on his death-bed
that he revealed where he had hidden it. His
family sold the head to one of the Cambridgeshire
Russells, and, in the same box in which it still is,
it descended to a certain Samuel Russell, who
being a needy and careless man, exhibited it in a
place near Clare Market. There it was seen by
James Cox, who then owned a famous museum.
He tried in vain to buy the head from Russell; for,
poor as he was, nothing would at first tempt him
to part with the relic, but after a time Cox assisted
him with money, and eventually, to clear himself
from debt, he made the head over to Cox. When
Cox at last parted with his museum he sold the
head of Cromwell for £230 to three men, who
bought it about the time of the French Revolution
to exhibit in Mead Court, Bond Street, at half-acrown a head. Curiously enough, it happened
that each of these three gentlemen died a sudden
death, and the head came into the possession of
the three nieces of the last man who died. These
young ladies, nervous at keeping it in the house,
asked Mr. Wilkinson, their medical man, to take
care of it for them, and they subsequently sold it
to him. For the next fifteen or twenty years Mr.
Wilkinson was in the habit of showing it to all the
distinguished men of that day, and the head, much
treasured, yet remains in his family.
"The circumstantial evidence is very curious.
It is the only head in history which is known to
have been embalmed and afterwards beheaded.
On the back of the neck, above the vertebræ, is the
mark of the cut of an axe where the executioner,
having, perhaps, no proper block, had struck too
high, and, laying the head in its soft, embalmed
state on the block, flattened the nose on one side,
making it adhere to the face. The hair grows promiscuously about the face, and the beard, stained
to exactly the same colour by the embalming liquor,
is tucked up under the chin, with the oaken staff
of the spear with which the head was stuck upon
Westminster Hall, which staff is perforated by a
worm that never attacks oak until it has been for
many years exposed to the weather.
"The iron spear-head, where it protrudes above
the skull, is rusted away by the action of the
atmosphere. The jagged way in which the top of
the skull is removed throws us back to a time when
surgery was in its infancy, while the embalming is
so beautifully done that the cellular process of the
gums and the membrane of the tongue are still to
be seen. Several teeth are yet in the mouth; the
membranes of the eyelids remain, the pia-mater and
the dura-mater, thin membranes, which I believe
lie over the brain, may be seen clinging to the
inner and upper part of the skull. The brain was,
of course, removed, but the compartments are very
distinct. When the great sculptor, Flaxman, went
to see it he said at once, 'You will not mind
my expressing any disappointment I may feel on
seeing the head?' 'Oh, no!' said Mr. Wilkinson,
'but will you tell me what are the characteristics
by which the head might be recognised?' 'Well,'
replied Flaxman, 'I know a great deal about the
configuration of the head of Oliver Cromwell. He
had a low, broad forehead, large orbits to the eyes,
a high septum to the nose, and high cheek-bones;
but there is one feature which will be with me a
crucial test, and that is, that, instead of having the
lower jaw-bone somewhat curved, it was particularly short and straight, but set out at angle, which
gave him a jowlish appearance.' The head exactly
answered to the description, and Flaxman went
away expressing himself as convinced and delighted.
PALACE YARD, FROM THE SOUTH. (From a View by Canaletti.)
"The head has also a length from the forehead
to the back of the head which is quite extraordinary, and one day, before Mr. Wilkinson retired
from practice, his assistant called him into the
surgery to point out to him how exactly the shaven
head of a lad who was there as a patient resembled the embalmed head of Cromwell upstairs, and
more particularly in the extreme length between
the forehead and the occiput.
"Mr. Wilkinson mentioned the circumstance to
the gentleman who brought the lad to him. 'No
wonder,' said the gentleman, 'for this lad is a direct
descendant of Oliver Cromwell, whose name, like
this boy's, was Williams before they changed it to
Cromwell.' It was curious that this type should
re-appear or remain after so many years.
"When the head was in the possession of
Samuel Russell he was frequently intoxicated when
he showed it to his friends, and they cut off pieces
of the hair, until the head was closely cropped.
"A correspondent in the Globe of September,
1874, believed that the body of Cromwell, after
removal from the Abbey, was buried in Red Lion
Square, and another body substituted and sent on
to Tyburn with Ireton and Bradshaw. But it is
not probable they could have obtained an embalmed body for the purpose. The embalmed
head is now in the possession of Mr. Horace
Wilkinson, Sevenoaks, Kent. There is a small
hole where the wart was on his forehead, and the
eyebrows met in the middle. The head has the
appearance of hard, dry leather."
INTERIOR OF OLD WESTMINSTER HALL. (From a Print published in 1797.)
Formerly there stood several old buildings in
the front, almost before the gate of the Hall; but
these have been long since pulled down, and the
whole of this part is now exposed to view. But it
was not only on the outside of the building that
the space was encroached upon; for a large part
of the inside also was occupied by the stalls of
sempstresses, milliners, law stationers, and secondhand booksellers, and even publishers. There is
an old engraving of the Hall by Gravelot, representing these bookstalls as they were in his time,
and Mr. Cunningham tells us that the duodecimo
edition of the remains of Sir Walter Raleigh was
printed for Henry Mortlock at the "Phœnix" in
St. Paul's Churchyard, and at the "White Hart in
Westminster Hall." Pepys tells us in his Diary,
under date 20th January, 1659–60, that he had
been "at Westminster Hall, where Mrs. Lane and
the rest of the maids had their white scarfs [i.e.
bought them], all having been at the burial of a
young bookseller in the Hall." Laud also in his
Diary records the fact that in February, 1630–1,
the Hall itself had a narrow escape of being burnt
down, through some of the little stalls and shops
taking fire. And in like manner we read in "Tom
Brown's Amusements," published in 1700:—"We
entered into a great hall, where my Indian was
surprised to see in the same place, men on the one
side with baubles and toys, and on the other taken
up with the fear of judgment, on which depends
their inevitable destiny. In this shop are to be
sold ribbons and gloves, towers and commodes by
word of mouth; in another shop land and tenements are disposed of by decree. On your left
hand you hear a nimble-tongued painted sempstress
with her charming treble invite you to buy some of
her knick-knacks, and on your right a deep-mouthed
cryer, commanding impossibilities, viz., silence to
be kept among women and lawyers."
In the "New View of London," published in
1708, this noble apartment is thus described:—"This hall was formerly made use of by the kings,
&c., for feasting, and also as a room to relieve the
poor; but for many years past—viz., since the
ninth year of Henry III.—it has been the place
where these Courts of Judicature sit. 1. The High
Court of Chancery near the south-west angle.
2. That of the Queen's Bench near the south-east
angle. 3. The Court of Common Pleas near the
north door on the west side; and on that side
above the steps is the Exchequer Court. . . .
The sides are also used for shops, chiefly booksellers and milliners, and the feasts of our coronations are here kept. The length of this Hall is 228
feet, breadth 66, and height 90 feet. Contiguously
to the south-east part of this Hall, up thirty-two
steps, are the House of Commons and Speaker's
Chamber, Court of Requests, Painted Chamber
(said to have been Edward the Confessor's bedchamber, and now at the upper end fitted with a
table and seats, where the Lords and Commons
meet at a free conference between the two Houses
about amendments to Bills, &c.), the House of
Lords, Princes' Chamber (where the Queen is
robed and unrobed on her coming to Parliament),
and some others."
"It is very probably," continues the author of
the above-mentioned work, "the most capacious
room in Christendom, without pillars, taking it in
all its dimensions of length, breadth; and height.
It is situated on the south side of New Palace
Yard, whence is a passage through this fabric to
the Abbey, College, and School of Westminster.
This room was first built by William Rufus in the
year of our Lord 1097, as several authors affirm:
the walls are of stone (partly boulder), the windows
of the Gothic order, the floor paved with stone;
but that which is most of curiosity is the roof
covered with lead. It is made of Irish oak, so
that it is always clean and free from that filth which
is occasioned by vermin. There are no pillars to
support the roof, notwithstanding its great altitude;
but that is very artfully done by neat buttresses
of the said timber, adorned and enriched with
angels, &c. Under them are, however, much more
noble ornaments of guidons, colours, and standards,
ensigns and trophies of victory obtained most completely by the confederates under the command
of his Grace the Duke of Marlborough." This is
followed by a minute description of the "colours
and standards" in detail with their mottoes and
inscriptions. There is no doubt these are the same
standards which afterwards were hung in Whitehall
Chapel, and which now decorate the new military
chapel in Birdcage Walk. The "colours," adds the
"New View," are a hundred and thirty-eight, and
there are thirty-four "standards."
We get a pretty correct view of the inside of
Westminster Hall as it must have appeared in the
early part of the reign of George III., from a print
published in the year 1797, entitled "The First
Day of Term." It shows the centre of the Hall
filled with a motley throng, while on either side are
the rows of banners mentioned in the above extract,
beneath which on the east are rows of bookstalls,
and on the west side sundry stalls of milliners,
with ladies making purchases at the counter. At
the further end of the Hall, upon the steps, are
two large boxes or pews, in which are seated six
officials in wigs and gowns, and looking as grave
as judges. Below the print are the following
Hudibrastic lines:—
"When Fools fall out, for every Flaw
They run horn-mad to go to Law.
A Hedge awry, a wrong-plac'd Gate,
Will serve to spend a whole estate;
Your case the Lawyer says is good,
And Justice cannot be withstood;
By tedious Process from above
From office they to office move,
Through Pleas, Demurrers, Dev'l and all,
At length they bring it to the Hall:
The dreadful Hall by Rufus rais'd
For lofty Gothic arches prais'd.
The First of Term, the fatal Day,
Doth various Images convey;
First from the Courts with clam'rous call
The Criers their Attorneys call;
One of the Gown, discreet and wise,
By proper means his Witness tries,
From Wreathcock's gang, not Right nor Laws,
It assures his trembling Client's cause,
This gnaws his Handkerchief, whilst that
Gives the kind ogling Nymph his Hat;
Here one in love with Choristers
Minds singing more than Love's affairs;
A Serjeant, limping on behind,
Shows Justice lame as well as blind.
To gain new clients some dispute;
Others protract an ancient Suit.
Jargon and Noise alone prevail,
While Sense and Reason's sure to fail
At Babel thus Law Term's begun,
And now at W——tm——r go on."
It will be seen from the copy of this print, which
we engrave on page 541, that the interior of the
Hall was not wholly occupied by the lawyers and
the Law Courts, but, as stated above, was made to
accommodate an array of stalls of booksellers, law
stationers, and milliners. We learn from the Diary
of Laud and from Strype that the rents paid by
these tenants belonged to the Warden of the Fleet.
To this Wycherley alludes, in the Epilogue to the
Plain Dealer:—
"In Hall of Westminster
Sleek sempstress vends amid the Courts her ware."
There is, or rather there was, published, a companion print to the above, entitled "The Last
Day of Term," representing the lawyers going out
of Court, with their clients grouped around them,
some chuckling with delight over their gains and
buttoning up their breeches pockets with an air of
conscious pride, whilst others—a far larger tribe—are wailing and gnashing their teeth with disappointment. A copy of this print, said to be
unique, is in the collection of Mr. Gardner.
Westminster Hall is mentioned in "London
Lickpenny," a ballad by John Lydgate, the Benedictine monk of Bury St. Edmunds, about the end
of the fourteenth or the beginning of the sixteenth
century, whose verses are placed by Gray next to
those of Chaucer; the lines show, at all events,
that the lawyers of that day were very like those of
the present time. The countryman from Kent, a
veritable "Johnny Raw," on reaching Westminster
Hall, finds "clerkes a great rout," and is much
surprised on hearing an officer of the Court stand
up and cry out, "Richard, Robert, and John of
Kent." The sound of the word "Kent" is music
to his ears; but he finds—strange to say—that he
can do nothing in London without money. It is
the same as with the Eternal City two thousand
years ago, "Omnia Romæ cum pretio." He tries
the Common Law Courts and Chancery Courts,
always with the same result, namely, that justice
must be paid for:—
"In Westminster Hall I found out one
Which went in a long gown of raye;
I crouched and kneelèd before him anon,
For Mary's love, of help I him pray,
'I wot not what thou meanest,' 'gan he say:
To get me hence he did me bede;
For lack of money I could not speed.
"Within this Hall, neither rich nor yet poor
Would do for me aught, although I should die;
Which seeing, I got me out of the door,
Where Flemynges began on me for to cry,
'Master, what will you coppen or buy?
Fyne felt hats, or spectacles to read?
Lay down your silver, and here you may speed.'"
The same fate again befalls poor "Lickpenny"
outside the Hall:—
"When to Westminster-gate I presently went;
When the sun was at hyghe prime;
Cooks to me they took good intent,
And proffered me bread, with ale and wine,
Ribs of beef, both fat and full fine,
A fair cloth they began for to spread;
But wanting money, I might not there speed."
In making his way through the crowd at Westminster Hall he has lost his hood. On reaching
Cornhill he sees his own hood hanging up for sale—a sort of joke which has been a hundred times
repeated in farces and tales of country bumpkins.
The end is that he goes back into Kent just as he
left it, or perhaps a little poorer and perhaps a little
wiser, exclaiming—
"Now Jesus that in Bethlehem was born
Save London, and send lawyers true their meed,
For who wants money with them shall not speed."
Even as far back as the reign of Charles II.
Westminster Hall appears to have been a great
place for booksellers' stalls: thus Pepys tells us,
under date September 4, 1663—"To Westminster
Hall, and there bought the first news-booke of
L'Estrange's writing." This L'Estrange was the
author of numerous pamphlets and periodical publications, and afterwards Licenser of the Public
Press to the King. Again we find Pepys writing
in his Diary, October 26, 1660: "To Westminster
Hall, and bought, among other books, one of the
Life of our Queen, which I read at home to my
wife; but it was so sillily writ that we did nothing
but laugh at it." We get another glimpse of the
appearance of the Hall a few months later, for in
May, 1661, the inimitable Pepys writes: "I went
to Westminster: where it was very pleasant to see
the Hall in the condition it is in now, with the
Judges on the benches at the further end of it."
With reference to Westminster Hall, Barrow tells
an excellent story in his "Life of Peter the Great."
When that sovereign was in London, and was taken
to Westminster Hall, he very naturally asked who
were those gentlemen in wig and gown whom he
saw there in such numbers. In reply he was told
that they were lawyers. "Lawyers!" he exclaimed
in utter amazement; "why, I have but two lawyers
in the whole of my dominions, and I mean to hang
one of them the moment that I return home."