The Dignity of a Mayor; or, Municipal Insignia of Office.
By R. S. Ferguson, F.S.A., Mayor of Carlisle 1881-2 and 1882-3.
PART II.
(Continued from p. 71.)
THE ordinary shape of a great mace is well known, and needs little description. A shaft and a bell-like head; on the base of the bell are the royal arms, and the bell is ornamented by an open-arched crown with orb and cross on the top. The sides of the bell are divided into four compartments by demi-female figures; and the rose, thistle, harp, and fleur-de-lis, each occupies a compartment, and is crowned. The shaft is divided into stages, and flying supports occur beneath the bell, and the shaft and base are covered with foliage. The heads frequently unscrew, and form loving cups. At Beaumaris the bells of the two maces contain drinking cups, and at Pwllheli the mace is nothing else but a two-handled drinking cup, with an oak pole stuck up its hollow foot.
The sergeants’ maces are simpler in form, and the crown is a mere open circle of fleur-de-lis and crosses.
At Nottingham the sheriff has a mace, and at one or two places there are maces for the mayoress.
When the Crown visits a town, the mayor should give up his staff of office to the king, or queen, and himself bear the mace before his sovereign. At Coventry, when William III. visited that city, the mayor carried the mace and an alderman the sword. To a royal personage other than his sovereign, the staff should not be given up, unless that personage be there to represent the sovereign, but the mayor should carry the mace. In 1503 the Lord Mayor of York himself carried the mace before the Princess Margaret. On the occasion of royal visits to the City of London, the Lord Mayor tenders to the sovereign his jewelled sceptre. Sometimes the mace itself is given up to the sovereign, as at Stafford, where the mayor kissed the mace and handed it to James I., who admired it greatly, and then returned it. At Cambridge the mayor delivered his mace to Queen Anne, who did the like.
Many corporations, in addition to their maces, possess swords of state or honour. According to the best authorities, the oldest symbols of municipal powers were the sword and the dragon, both of Roman origin, the one being the cohortal ensign of the Romans, the other the insignia of Supreme Justice.
“At Amiens (says Dr. Thompson in his Eng. Mun. Hist.), the insignia of Supreme Justice consisted of two swords of antique shape, carried in the hands of two officials, and a similar custom prevailed among almost all the great Corporations of France, which undoubtedly had a continuity from Roman time.”
The sword, then, is the symbol of criminal jurisdiction, as the mace is of civil. The County Palatinate of Chester had a state sword, which is figured in the Visitation of that county in 1580, published by the Harleian Society; while the Bishop of Durham, so long as he was a temporal power and had criminal jurisdiction, was presented with a sword on taking possession of his see.
The right to have a sword borne before a mayor was originally conferred either by charter, which may often have merely confirmed a previous practice, or by a royal present of a sword. Thus James I. gave the City of Canterbury a sword to be borne before the mayor. Hull has two swords, one given by Henry VIII., the other by Charles I. The authorities of Carlisle purchased a “Sword of Honour” in 1635-6 for £4 13s. The blade at least was second-hand, for it bears the date of 1509, and was made at Milan. The authority to bear it was given by royal charter in 1637, but it was probably purchased in London by a deputation who went there to arrange about procuring the charter. On the locket of the sheath is cut the letter S in great size, and I have never found a satisfactory account of what it means, unless it stands for sword. Our governing charter at Carlisle gives us the right to have a sword by authorising us to have an official “qui erit et vocabitur Portator Gladii nostri coram Mayore Civitatis prædictæ.”
The grant by charter of a sword differs in various places: at King’s Lynn the sword is to be sheathed, at Chester it is to be borne before the mayor “in our absence,” and point upright. I take it that the sword should always be point upright, and that the Corporations of London and York are wrong in putting it on their achievements of arms with the point down. I take it, it should never be lowered but in the presence of the Crown. The swords are generally sheathed, but the sword at Great Yarmouth is carried unsheathed in time of a European war. At Lichfield a sword is kept permanently fixed over the mayor’s pew, and sheathed, but the sheath is withdrawn when the mayor attends church. At Carmarthen the sword, by charter of Henry VIII., is ordered to be “freely and lawfully” borne before the “said mayor in manner as is accustomed to be done in our City of London.” A curious story comes from Coventry, that in 1384 the sword was carried behind the mayor because he had not done justice. The Corporation of Chester and the dean and chapter of that place fell out about the sword; the ecclesiastics objected to the mayor bringing his sword to church, but it was decided that
“As often as the mayor repaired to the church to hear divine service or sermon, or upon any just occasion, he was to be at liberty to have the sword of the city borne before him with the point upwards.”
The information I have before me only furnishes the names of five places as having Caps of Estate or Maintenance, namely, London, York, Coventry, Exeter, and Waterford. They are generally worn by the swordbearer, and I imagine that many more places than I have mentioned provide their swordbearers with fur coverings for their heads; but it is not to be taken for granted that every fancy hat, whether of fur or not, worn by a swordbearer is a Cap of Maintenance. Gwillim defines a cap of maintenance as a cap of dignity, worn by dukes in token of good government and freedom. Planché makes it the same as the “Abacot,” a cap worn during the fourteenth, fifteenth, and commencement of the sixteenth centuries by royal and noble personages, varying in form, and ultimately taking a shape not unlike a Glengarry cap, made of crimson velvet and lined with ermine, and occasionally placed by heralds beneath crests instead of the ordinary wreath. It appears of that shape as a crest to the arms of the City of York, but at London, both in the armorial bearings and on the swordbearer’s head, it is of fur, of the shape of an inverted flower-pot. At Coventry it is also of fur, and round, while at Exeter I believe it is of red velvet. The history of this is known: it was presented to the City of Exeter by Henry VII., and was worn by the swordbearer until lately, when, on the suggestion of Mr. Tucker (Somerset Herald), it was ordered to be carried before the mayor on a cushion. I do not know the history of the other fur caps of maintenance I have enumerated. If I did I might be able to throw some light on the matter, but I own to being a little in the dark as to caps of maintenance. If, as Gwillim says, the cap of maintenance is a mark of freedom, its association with the swordbearer (the sword denoting criminal jurisdiction) may mean freedom from all extraneous criminal jurisdiction.
If this is so, I would suggest to the powers that be to lay down the following rules:—
That every mayor may and should have a mace; the mayor of a borough with a separate commission of the peace—a mace and a sword. If, in addition, his borough has quarter sessions of its own, then he should also have a cap of maintenance.
The Corporations of Colchester, Dover, Southampton, Norwich, Beaumaris, Preston, Great Yarmouth, Poole, Rochester, Boston, Waterford, &c., possess Silver Oars, the symbol of the maritime jurisdiction once enjoyed by those places, but abolished by the Act of 1840, placing all creeks and rivers in Great Britain under the High Court of Admiralty. The origin of this symbol is not known, but it is a natural one, and is, or was [for the Court is merged, I suppose, into the High Court of Justice] the badge or mace of the High Court of Admiralty, and was laid before the Judge, as the great mace used to be laid before the Chancellor, when he presided in Chancery. The one belonging to the High Court of Admiralty is said to be 130 years old, but an older one with the arms of Queen Elizabeth thereon was once in existence. That belonging to the Admiralty of the Cinque Ports is older still. One belongs to the Governor of Bermuda, who has Admiralty jurisdiction. These civic oars, like the maces, divide into two classes: large ones, like that formerly at Boston, or that now at Great Yarmouth, meant to be carried as maces before the mayor; small ones, as at Colchester and Dover, the badges of authority of the water-bailiffs, who showed them, when executing process, as the sergeants-at-mace did their maces. That at Dover is 6 in. long, and is contained in a brass cylindrical box. The Colchester one is 10 in. The one which was sold by Boston in 1832 is 3 ft. 3 in. long, and was carried as a mace; it is of the date of Queen Elizabeth, and is now in the possession of Lord Brownlow. That at Yarmouth is 4 ft. long, and has the Royal arms and those of the borough on the blade. It was presented in 1745, and is of silver gilt. It is carried before the mayor and behind the maces. Rochester possesses both a great and small silver oar.
Much information as to silver oars will be found in the 30th and 31st volumes of the Institute’s Journal.
By far the greatest part of the chains and badges worn by mayors are modern, of various degrees of ugliness, and I certainly hope the antiquaries of a future age will not judge of the art of the nineteenth century from a collection of mayors’ chains. There are exceptions, such as the chain presented to Exeter by the Institute in 1874, which consists of sixteen main links, conjoined by small ones. Of the former, eight are castles, an idea taken from the arms of the city; seven are composed of the letter X, surmounted by a crown; the sixteenth is a cinquefoil, containing a representation of the hat presented to the mayor by Henry VII., and from the cinquefoil depends the badge on which is, in enamel, the arms of the city.
I do not know that a mayor’s chain and badge has any particular symbolism; I do not think that it is in the nature of a “collar.” It merely marks out its wearer as a man of importance, and requires no special authority to authorise its assumption. It is part of the idea of a mayor, inherent in him. But I must protest against some municipalities which have, without any right whatever, provided their mayors with collars of SS. The Lord Mayor of Dublin wears one, but the collar was given to the city by Charles II., so there is no doubt as to his right to wear it; but I think the Lord Mayor of London would find great difficulty in satisfying the College of Arms as to his right to a collar of SS, which was given him (temp. Henry VIII.), not by the Crown, but by a subject, Sir John Alleyne. The town council of Cork coolly ordered a fac-simile of the Dublin one to be provided for their mayor. The council of Derby purchased Lord Denman’s collar of SS, and their mayor wears it. Coventry, Nottingham, Stamford, Kingston-on-Thames, and other places possess modern chains of the “SS pattern,” as the jewellers call it, and their mayors wear them. They might with equal propriety assume the insignia of the Order of the Garter.
The use of chains is not confined to mayors; several other civic dignitaries wear them—sheriffs, and aldermen in some instances. York provides a gold chain for its Lady Mayoress, and is ungallant enough to weigh the chain when it is handed to a new Lady Mayoress, and again when she gives it up; an old scandal asserts that a former Lady Mayoress appropriated some of the links. Hull, which, by the way, possesses a mayor’s chain of the date of 1564, sold its Mayoress’s chain. At many towns the waits, or town musicians, had badges with chains for suspension: these are generally of silver, and the badges bear the arms of the place. Several curious examples exist. Lincoln has a mayor’s ring, but whether it is ancient or not I do not know, nor do I know of any other place.
As to civic robes, I can give no information and lay down no rules. The mayor of Carlisle is one of the few mayors who possess no robe, and I rather congratulate myself thereon. I was utterly unprepared for the gorgeous spectacle presented by my brother mayors at the Mansion House in 1882. Every variety of material, of colour, and of pattern was to be seen that the wildest imagination of the tailor could devise.
Although the mayor of Carlisle has no gown, the unreformed corporation of Carlisle had them in the seventeenth century, as shown by the records of a Court Leet, held on Monday, October 22, 1649:—
“We order (that according to an ancient order) the Aldermen of this Citty shall attend the Maior upon every Lord’s day to the Church in their gounes, and likewise to attend the Maior in the Markett-place at or before the sermon bell to the Church, sub pena vis. viiid. toties quoties; and the Common Counsellmen to attend likewise, sub pena 3s. 4d. toties quoties.
“We order that the present bailiffes of this Cittie shall forthwith provide for either of them a decent gowne for the Honnor of this Cittie, sub pena.”
The lateness of the hour warns me to stop. I daresay many of you think I have been but wasting the evening in gossip over trivial matters. “But,” as Mr. Thompson writes, in his “English Municipal History,”—
“The citizen of olden times looked upon the municipal insignia with a political significance. When he saw the mace and sword, when he saw the banner of his community unfurled, his heart exulted at the thought that his fellow-citizens and he constituted a body enjoying entire independence, their own civil and criminal jurisdiction, and a name in the land which kings and lords respected.”