shall be directed to the mayor and sheriffs of the city of Norwich aforesaid, to see the said parties do the said penance in the said city, upon Saturday, the 22d day of this present month of November, openly in the market-place there, with papers on their heads, whereupon shall be written the same words above written.”
The old mode of trial by ordeal, consisting as it did of an appeal to Heaven for judgment, either directly by miraculous interference, as in the ordeals of fire and water, or indirectly, in the ordeals of single combat, might well have had their charms in the memory of culprit and jurors both, when such a substitute alone was offered by the courts of justice that had superseded them. There are, however, two extremes that may be gone to about every thing; and we believe a little wholesome penance might, even in the nineteenth century, not come amiss to stir up the wits of many a sleepy juror. Certes, they often richly merit it.
From the assize court we bend our steps upward, to the region where we may feel at no loss in our search for objects of genuine antiquity, and find ourselves in the Council Chamber; and here we arrive at the very pinnacle of magisterial dignity—the zenith of municipal glory—the seat of mayoralty and aldmermanship and common councilship, once broadly separate and distinct in their grades of rank and
power, in very truth an upper and a lower house, a peerage and a commons—assembling themselves in chambers becomingly graduated in their degrees of splendour—but now, alas! in these degenerate days of reformation and democratic sovereignty, as some might please to call them, all merged into one conglomerated body corporate—shall we add, of order Gothic composite?
The old chamber looks as if it had seen better days; two or three patched-up windows of variegated colours, still retaining many quaint and curious devices, bear witness of the taste and liberality of our forefathers; and imagination, by the aid of history’s pen, can fill up the unsophisticated plain glass lights at the side, with the old subjects that once occupied their space, but which have fallen a sacrifice to the despoiler’s barbarous hand;—one of the unjust judge, who, being flayed alive, was succeeded in office by his son, and the picture, so they tell us, was elucidated by some very characteristic specimens of antique poetry—to wit, the first two lines of general advice, addressed to all who may ever be in a position to profit by it,—
“Let alle men se, stedfast you be,
Justice do ye, or else like you fle;”
and an additional verse to the unfortunate son who succeeded him in office:—
“You that sittyst now in place,
See hange before thy face
Thyn own Fader’s skyn,
For falsehood; this ded he wyn.”
Another equally original specimen of the judgment of Solomon is thus explained:—
“The trewe and counterfeit to trye,
She had rather lose her Ryght—
Saying, the Soulders ware redy
To clyve, with all their myght.”