“(II). De centum vero paribus eligentur viginti quatuor, assensu centum parium, qui singulis annis removebuntur: quorum duodecim eschevini vocabuntur, et alii duodecim consultores. Isti viginti quatuor, in principio sui anni, jurabunt se servaturos jura sancte ecclesie et fidelitatem domini regis atque justiciam quod et ipse recte judicabunt secundum suam conscienciam, etc.
LIV. Iterum, major et eschevini et pares, in principio sui eschevinatus, jurabunt eque judicare, nec pro inimicitia nec pro amicitia injuste judicabunt. Iterum, jurabunt se nullos denarios nec premia capturos, quod et eque judicabunt secundum suam conscienciam.
LV. Si aliquis juratorum possit comperi accepisse premium pro aliqua questione de qua aliquis trahatur in eschevinagio, domus ejus ... prosternatur, nec amplius ille qui super hoc deliraverit, nec ipse, nec heres ejus dominatum in communia habebit.
The three salient features in common are (1) the oath to administer justice fairly; (2) the special provisions against bribery; (3) the expulsion of any member of the body convicted of receiving a bribe.
If we had only ‘the oath of the Commune,’ we might have remained in doubt as to the nature of the administrative body; but we can now assert, on continental analogy, that its twenty-four members comprised twelve ‘skevini’ and an equal number of councillors. We can also assert that it administered justice, even though this has been unsuspected, and may, indeed, at first arouse question.” (Round, p. 240.)
We conclude, therefore, from continental analogy, that the twenty-four of London comprised twelve “skevini” and an equal number of Councillors. What became of this Council?
Round is of opinion, in which most will agree, that this Council was the germ of the Common Council, and he points out that the oath of a member of the Common Council, like that of the ancient Council of twenty-four, still binds him—(1) not to be influenced by private favour; (2) not to leave the Council without the Mayor’s permission; (3) to keep the proceedings secret.
Now the oath of an Alderman (Liber Albus, Riley’s translation, p. 267) is quite different. It is the oath of a Magistrate and superintendent of a ward—
“You shall swear, that well and lawfully you shall serve our lord the King in the City of London, in the office of Alderman in the Ward of N, wherein you are chosen Alderman, and shall lawfully treat and inform the people of the same Ward of such things as unto them pertain to do, for keeping the City, and for maintaining the peace within the City; and that the laws, usages, and franchises of the said City you shall keep and maintain, within town and without, according to your wit and power. And that attentive you shall be to save and maintain the rights of orphans, according to the laws and usages of the said City. And that ready you shall be, and readily shall come, at the summons and warning of the Mayor and ministers of the said City, for the time being, to speed the Assizes, Pleas, and judgments of the Hustings, and other needs of the said City, if you be not hindered by the needs of our lord the King, or by other reasonable cause; and that good lawful counsel you shall give for such things as touch the common profit in the same City. And that you shall sell no manner of victuals by retail; that is to say, bread, ale, wine, fish, or flesh, by you, your apprentices, hired persons, servants, or by any other; nor profit shall you take of any such manner of victuals sold during your office. And that well and lawfully you shall (behave) yourself in the said office, and in other things touching the City.—So God you help, and the saints.”[4]
Again, for English evidence. The City of Winchester shows also the existence of a Council of twenty-four, which continued until 1835:
“Il iert en la vile mere eleu par commun assentement des vint et quatre jures et de la commune ... le quel mere soit remuable de an en an.... Derechef en la cite deinent estre vint et quatre jurez esluz des plus prudeshommes e des plus sages de la ville e leaument eider e conseiller le avandit mere a franchise sauver et sustener.” (Round, p. 242.)
“There shall be in the City a Mayor elected by common consent of the twenty-four ‘Jurats’ and the Commune.... The which Mayor is to be removeable from year to year. Further, in the City there must be twenty-four ‘Jurats’ elected from the most notable and the wisest of the City, both loyally to aid and to counsel the aforesaid Mayor to protect and to maintain the franchise.”
At Winchester the twenty-four retained their distinct position, and it was not till the sixteenth century that the Aldermen were interposed between the Mayor and the Council.
Thus did London get the recognition of its Commune—its community,—and with it the Mayor. There was certainly reason for the suspicion and hostility of the old-fashioned Conservatives towards the new constitution. Some of the citizens, we are told, in the first exuberant joy over their newly-acquired liberties thought that henceforth there would be no need of a King at all. They pictured to themselves a sovereign State like that of Genoa, Pisa, or Venice, in which the City should be independent and separate from the rest of the country. I dare say there were such dreamers. Three years later, in 1194, we hear of citizens who boasted that “come what may, the Londoners shall never have any King but their Mayor.” Fortunately, the Mayor himself observed wiser counsels.