modern London, the 'term' was to old London, from the accession of Henry
VIII. to the death of George II., and many of the existing commercial
and fashionable arrangements of a London 'season' maybe traced to the
old-world 'term.'
In olden time the influence of the law-colleges was as great upon
politics as upon fashion. Sheltering members of every powerful family in
the country they were centres of political agitation, and places for the
secret discussion of public affairs. Whatever plot was in course of
incubation, the inns invariably harbored persons who were cognisant of
the conspiracy. When faction decided on open rebellion or hidden
treason, the agents of the malcontent leaders gathered together in the
inns, where, so long as they did not rouse the suspicions of the
authorities and maintained the bearing of studious men, they could hire
assassins, plan risings, hold interviews with fellow-conspirators, and
nurse their nefarious projects into achievement. At periods of danger
therefore spies were set to watch the gates of the hostels, and mark who
entered them. Governments took great pains to ascertain the secret life
of the collegians. A succession of royal directions for the discipline
of the inns under the Tudors and Stuarts points to the jealousy and
constant apprehensions with which the sovereigns of England long
regarded those convenient lurking-places for restless spirits and
dangerous adversaries. Just as the Student-quarter of Paris is still
watched by a vigilant police, so the Inns of Court were closely watched
by the agents of Wolsey and Thomas Cromwell, of Burleigh and Buckingham.
During the troubles and contentions of Elizabeth's reign Lord Burleigh
was regularly informed concerning the life of the inns, the number of
students in and out of town, the parentage and demeanor of new members,
the gossip of the halls, and the rumors of the cloisters. In proportion
as the political temper and action of the lawyers were deemed matters of
high importance, their political indiscretions and misdemeanors were
promptly and sometimes ferociously punished. An idle joke over a pot of
wine sometimes cost a witty barrister his social rank and his ears. To
promote a wholesome fear of authority in the colleges, government every
now and then flogged a student at the cart's tail in Holborn, or
pilloried a sad apprentice of the law in Chancery Lane, or hung an
ancient on a gibbet at the entrance of his inn.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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