We not only note, in this quotation, that the lawyers carried green bags, but we find, in contemporary literature, frequent allusion to these bags, which certainly had been of the same colour ever since Charles the Second's time, and so continued until the reign of George III. Bands were worn, but they were not the little things they are now, and there was no distinctive wig—nay, some men were bold enough to wear their own hair. Lady Sarah Cowper has left a memorandum[571] respecting her father, Lord Cowper, which throws light on this subject: 'The Queen after this was persuaded to trust a Whigg ministry; and in the year 1705, Ocbr. she made my father Ld Keeper of the Great Seal in the 41st year of his age—'tis said the youngest Lord Keeper that had ever 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.' But it is said that when he appeared at court in his wig, the Queen had to look at him more than once before she recognised him.
So much for the barrister. Of the other branch, the attorney, we hear very little. Ward certainly portrays him in no very bright colours. 'He's an Amphibious Monster, that partakes of two Natures, and those contrary; He's a great Lover both of Peace and Enmity; and has no sooner set People together by the Ears, but is Soliciting the Law to make an end of the Difference. His Learning is commonly as little as his Honesty; and his Conscience much larger than his Green Bag. Catch him in what Company soever, you will always hear him stating of Cases, or telling what notice my Lord Chancellor took of him, when he beg'd Leave to supply the deficiency of his Councel. He always talks with as great assurance as if he understood what he only pretends to know: And always wears a Band, and in that lies his Gravity and Wisdom. He concerns himself with no Justice but the Justice of a Cause: and for making an unconscionable Bill, he out does a Taylor.'
The courts of law were conducted with as much decorum and dignity as now; but there is no doubt that false witnesses could be hired—nay, they had a regular name—'Knights of the Post'; a name which certainly dates back as early as the time of Charles I., when 'a roaring gul and Knight o' th' post' were coupled together. In Anne's time 'Knights of the Post are to be had in the Temple Walks from Morning till Night, for two Pots of Belch, and a Sixpenny slice of Boil'd beef'; and Ward's friend, the attorney, 'is so well read in Physiognomy, that he knows a Knight of the Post by his Countenance; and if your Business requires such an Agent, he can pick you up one at a small Warning. He is very understanding in the Business of the Old Bailey and knows as well how to Fee a Jury Man as he does a Barrister. He has a rare knack at putting in Broomstick Bail; and knows a great many more ways to keep a Man out of his Money, than he does to get it him. Tricks and Quirks he calls the cunning part of the Law; and that Attorney that practises the most knavery, is the Man for his Money.'
Queen Anne's reign was not prolific of great lawyers, although Lords Somers, Cowper, and Harcourt were alive. The two former had the felicity of being scarified by Mrs. Manley in the 'New Atlantis.' The former, under the name of Cicero, is accused of seducing a friend's wife, and then imprisoning, and finally making away with, her husband; and the latter was charged with committing bigamy. His brother Spencer Cowper, too, was unhappy in his connection with the fair sex, he having been, with three others, arraigned for being concerned in the murder of one Sarah Stout. He was acquitted, and probably remembered the fact when afterwards he was a judge, in which capacity he was very merciful. Lord Cowper put an end to an old custom, by refusing to receive New Year's gifts from the officers of his court and the counsel of his Bar; by which his wife says he lost 3,000l. per annum; but even then, although his salary was nominally 4,000l., he managed, by fees to which he was entitled, to make it up to 8,000l. If Evelyn is to be believed, he knew how to take care of himself. '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 £2000 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 £100,000, and made themselves barons.'
CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE RIVER.
Use as a highway — River slang — Rates of watermen — Description of wherries — Pleasure parties and barges — The Folly — Its frequenters — Gravesend tilt boat — Fares at the Horse Ferry — The Fleet Ditch.
The River Thames was then a veritable 'silent highway,' in the sense of affording transport for passengers for short distances. In fact, the wherries then took the places in a great measure of our present cabs; and a cry of 'Next Oars' or 'Sculls,' when anyone made his appearance at the top of 'the Stairs,' was synonymous with 'Hansom' or 'Four Wheeler.'
Poor Taylor, the Water Poet, had, more than half a century before, sung the decadence of this highway, but it still fairly held its own, and was in great request. When Sir Roger went with the Spectator to Spring Gardens, Foxhall (that naughty place where the 'wanton baggage' of a mask tapped the old knight on the shoulder, and asked him if he would drink a bottle of mead with her, and where Sir Roger told the mistress of the house 'He should be a better Customer to her Garden, if there were more Nightingales, and fewer Strumpets'), he never dreamed of going any other way than by boat. He chose out the boatman with the wooden leg, and afterwards regaled him with the remains of their luncheon, to the waiter's astonishment.
Addison was writing a superfine paper 'for gentlemen, by gentlemen,' so he softens down the language for which the river was noted, and ignores the torrent of licentious ribaldry with which every boat greeted each other, and which was known as 'River Wit.' He certainly hints at it, but simply touches it, and then changes the subject. When Sir Roger, in the kindliness of his heart and the forgetfulness of custom, bids the passing boats Good Night, he merely says, 'But to the Knight's great Surprize, as he gave the Good Night to two or three young Fellows a little before our Landing, one of them, instead of returning the Civility asked us what queer old Put we had in the Boat, and whether he was not ashamed to go a Wenching at his Years! with a great deal of the like Thames Ribaldry. Sir Roger seem'd a little shock'd at first, but at length assuming a Face of Magistracy, told us, That if he were a Middlesex Justice, he would make such Vagrants know that Her Majesty's Subjects were no more to be abused by Water than by Land.
But Brown gives us the unadulterated slang, which cannot possibly be reprinted for general perusal—indeed, his whole account of the river, although it is far too graphic to be omitted, and it gives us certainly the best contemporaneous description we have, must be somewhat expurgated to fit it for modern tastes. 'Finding my Companion thus agreeable to my Humour, I steer'd him down Blackfryars towards the Thames side, till coming near the Stairs, where from their Dirty Benches up started such a noisy multitude of old grizly Tritons, in sweaty Shirts, and short-skirted Doublets, hollowing and hooting out Next Oars and Skullers, shaking their Caps over their bald Noddles, seeming as overjoy'd to see us as if we had been Foreign Princes come out of stark Love and Kindness to redeem them and their Families from Cruel Popery and Slavery. I bawl'd out as loud as a Speaking Trumpet, Next Oars, and away run Captain Charon from the Front of his wrangling Fraternity, with a Badge upon his Arm that the World might behold whose Slave he was, and hollow'd to his Man Ben to bring the Boat near, whilst the rest withdrew to their Seats, calling one another Louzy Rogue and Sorry Rascal, giving us a clear passage without further Molestation.