[Transcriber's Note: In the original text, the section for M. Justices Melville and Parker appears across from the section for M. Justices Joyce and Washington, on the following page.]
The dress of barristers is the same for the Common Law Bar as for the Chancery Bar, but the details of both gown and wig signify to the initiated much as to the professional position of the wearer. The difference between the junior's stuff gown and the leader's silk one has already been referred to, but it is not true that a barrister having "taken silk," that is, having become a K. C. or a leader, always wears a silk gown, for, if he be in mourning, he again wears a cotton gown, as he did in his junior days, but, to preserve his distinction, he wears "weepers"—a six-inch deep, white lawn cuff, the name and utility of which originated before handkerchiefs were invented. Moreover, when in mourning his "bands"—the untied white lawn cravat, hanging straight down, which all barristers wear—have three lines of stitching instead of two. Under his gown, a K. C. wears a "court coat," cut not unlike an ordinary morning coat, though with hooks and eyes instead of buttons, while the junior wears the conventional frock coat. On a hot day, a junior wearing a seersucker jacket and carelessly allowing his gown to disclose it, may receive an admonition from the court, whispered in his ear by an officer.
Wigs, which were introduced in the courts in 1670, and have long survived their disappearance in private life, were formerly made of human hair which became heavy and unsanitary with repeated greasing. They required frequent curling and dusting with powder which had a tendency to settle on the gown and clothing. About 1822, a wig-maker, who may be regarded as a benefactor of the profession, invented the modern article, composed of horse hair, in the proportion of five white strands to one black; this is so made as to retain its curl without grease, and with but infrequent recurling, and it requires no powder.
The wig worn by the barrister in his daily practice has already been described, but, when arguing a case in the House of Lords he has recourse to an extraordinary head-dress, which is precisely the shape of a half-bushel basket with the front cut away to afford him light and air. This, hanging below the shoulders, has an advantage over the Lord Chancellor's wig in being more roomy, so that the barrister's hand can steal inside of it if he have occasion to scratch his head at a knotty problem, whereas his Lordship, in executing the same manoeuvre, inevitably sets his awry and thereby adds to its ludicrous effect.
To the unaccustomed eye, the wig, at first, is a complete disguise. Individuality is lost in the overpowering absurdity and similarity of the heads. Then, too, there is an involuntary association of gray hair with years, making the Bar seem composed exclusively of old gentlemen of identical pattern. The observer is somewhat in the position of the Indian chiefs, who, having been taken to a number of eastern cities in order to be impressed with the white man's power, recognized no difference between them—although they could have detected, in the deepest forest, traces of the passage of a single human being—and reported upon returning to their tribes that there was only one town, Washington, and that they were merely trundled around in sleeping cars and repeatedly brought back to the same place.
By degrees, however, differences between individuals emerge from this first impression. Blond hair above a sunburned neck, peeping between the tails of a queue, suggests the trout stream and cricket field; or an ample cheek, not quite masked by the bushel-basket-shaped wig, together with a rotundity hardly concealed by the folds of a gown, remind one that port still passes repeatedly around English tables after dinner. But it must be said that, while the wig may add to the uniformity and perhaps to the dignity—despite a certain grotesqueness—of a court room, yet it largely extinguishes individuality and obliterates to some extent personal appearance as a factor in estimating a man; and this is a factor of no small importance, for every one, in describing another, begins with his appearance—a man's presence, pose, features and dress all go to produce prepossessions which are subject to revision upon further acquaintance. One thing is certain, the wig is an anachronism which will never be imported into America. For the Bar to adopt the gown (as has been largely done by the Bench throughout the country) would be quite another matter and it seems to work well in Canada. This would have the advantage of distinguishing counsel from the crowd in a court room, of covering over inappropriateness of dress and it might promote the impressiveness of the tribunal.
The bag of an English barrister is also an important part of his outfit. It is very large, capable of holding his wig and gown, as well as his briefs, and suggests a clothes bag. It is not carried by the barrister himself, but it is borne by his clerk. Its color has a deep significance. Every young barrister starts with a blue bag and can only acquire a red one under certain conditions. As devil, and as junior, it is not considered infra dig. to carry his own bag and he has ever before him the possibility of possessing a red bag. At last he succeeds in impressing a venerable K. C. by his industry and skill in some case, whereupon one morning the clerk of the K. C. appears at the junior's chambers bearing a red bag with his initials embroidered upon it—a gift from the great K. C. Thereafter he can use that coveted color and he may be pardoned for having his clerk follow him closely for awhile so there may be no mistake as to the ownership. Custom requires him to tip the K. C.'s clerk with a guinea and further exacts that the clerk shall pay for the bag, which costs nine shillings and sixpence, thus, by this curious piece of economy, the clerk nets the sum of eleven shillings and sixpence and the K. C. is at no expense.