Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 01.pdf/270

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
The Great Seal.
233

Chancellor's house in the night-time and feloniously stolen and carried off the clavis regni.

The truth was that very early in the morning of the day in question some thieves did break into Lord Thurlow's house, in Great Ormond Street, which then bordered on the country. Coming from the fields they had jumped over his garden wall, and forcing two bars from the kitchen window, went upstairs to a room adjoining the study. Here they found the Great Seal inclosed in the two bags so often described in the close roll,—one of leather, the other of silk,—two silver-hilted swords, belonging to the chancellor's officers, and a small sum of money. With the whole of this booty they absconded. They effected their escape without having been heard by any of the family; and though a reward was offered for their discovery, they could never be traced.

In 1812 an amusing incident occurred in connection with the Great Seal. During the autumn, part of Lord Chancellor Eldon's house, at Encombe, was destroyed by fire. The scene Lord Elton afterwards described very graphically in his old age: "It really was a very pretty sight," he said; "for all the maids turned out of their beds, and they formed a line from the water to the fire-engine, handing the buckets; they looked very pretty, all in their shifts. While the flames were raging he was in violent trepidation about the Great Seal, which, although he was not in the habit, like one of his illustrious predecessors, of taking to bed with him, he always kept in his bedchamber. He flew with it to the garden, and buried it in a flower border. But his trepidation was almost as great next morning; for what between his alarm for the safety of Lady Eldon and his admiration of the maids in their vestal attire, he could not remember the spot where the clavis regni had been buried.

The entire household turned out and commenced digging for the hidden treasure. "You never saw anything so ridiculous," he said, "as seeing the whole family down that walk probing and digging till we found it." This was the Great Seal which Erskine held for the brief space of fourteen months, and concerning which, though the loss of office was a serious blow both to his ambition and his purse, he could afterwards afford to joke so pleasantly. At a dinner-party Captain Parry was asked what he and his crew lived upon during the Arctic winter. "We lived chiefly on seals," he replied. "And very good living, too," said Erskine, "if you keep them long enough."

Later, William IV. was very angry with Lord Brougham for taking the Great Seal to foreign parts in his valise. A young lady once made it her pleasure to obtain the seal from this gallant old lawyer, and compelled him to go down on his knees to her on a rather public occasion, before she would restore it to his keeping.

The chancellors who have had the custody of the Great Seal have by no means found the office a bed of roses. The history of their lives, in former times, unfolds a series of struggles with disappointed aspirants and even with their sovereigns. In later years the impeachment of these high officials has been of frequent occurrence; and within the last four centuries no less than six lord chancellors have been brought to the bar of their country to answer for alleged malfeasance in office,—Cardinal Wolsey, Lord Bacon, Lord Keeper Finch, Lord Clarendon, Lord Somers, and Lord Macclesfield; and of these Lord Somers alone was acquitted. In 1865 Lord Westbury was forced, by the emphatic expression of the popular will, to resign his office as chancellor, under circumstances which appeared to leave no doubt that his official record was not free from stain.