One of the urgent priorities of the first Federal Congress was the formation of its organization, formulation of rules for its conduct, & the selection of appropriate officials & devices to represent their authority. Following British tradition, the newly organized House of Representatives & the Senate each appointed a Sergeant-at-Arms. For its symbol of the commonality of the American people, the House adopted the mace in the tradition of its mother country, while the Senate utilized a gavel or knocker. First used during meetings in New York of the House of Representatives, the mace was destroyed by the British when they burned Washington, & it was not until 1841 that another was acquired. Over the years the mace has been used primarily to quell quarrels between Congressmen on the floor, & to bring absent House members to meetings so that a quorum could be formed. The mace has been invariably effective in bringing order among turbulent House members. Although a Sergeant at Arms served the same function in the United States Senate, he was not provided with a mace. Order was maintained by an ivory knocker or form of gavel that has been used for the purpose for almost two centuries.

When the First Fed. Congress convened in N.Y. City, an urgent priority of the newly formed legis. branch of the gov¿t. of the U.S. was formation of its org. It is not surprising that it was formed of two bodies, similar to those of the British Parliament. Next in order was the formulation of rules for the conduct of both of its chambers, & the selection of appropriate officials & devices to represent their authority. Following British practice once more, the new House of Rep. & the Senate appointed Sergeants-at-Arms. As symbols of the their authority, the House of Rep. adopted the mace, & the Senate used a gavel to bring the body to order. These symbols of authority are discussed in this study, which also discusses the gavel of the Amer. Philos. Soc. Ill.

International law's rich existence in the world can be illuminated by its objects. International law is often developed, conveyed and authorized through its objects and/or their representation. From the symbolic (the regalia of the head of state and the symbols of sovereignty), to the mundane (a can of dolphin-safe tuna certified as complying with international trade standards), international legal authority can be found in the objects around us. Similarly, the practice of international law often relies on material objects or their image, both as evidence (satellite images, bones of the victims of mass atrocities) and to found authority (for instance, maps and charts). This volume considers these questions; firstly what might the study of international law through objects reveal? What might objects, rather than texts, tell us about sources, recognition of states, construction of territory, law of the sea, or international human rights law? Secondly, what might this scholarly undertaking reveal about the objects - as aims or projects - of international law? How do objects reveal, or perhaps mask, these aims, and what does this tell us about the reasons some (physical or material) objects are foregrounded, and others hidden or ignored. Thirdly what objects, icons and symbols preoccupy the profession and academy? The personal selection of these objects by leading and emerging scholars worldwide, will illuminate the contemporary and historical fascinations of international lawyers. As a result, the volume will be an important artefact (itself an object) in its own right, capturing the mood of international law in a given moment and providing opportunity for reflection on these preoccupations. By considering international law in the context of its material culture the authors offer a new theoretical perspective on the subject.

Squire offers a comprehensive history of legislatures, core institutions in American political development

Commanding its own museum and over 200 years of examination, observation and scholarship, the monumental embroidery, known popularly as the Bayeux Tapestry and documenting William the Conqueror’s invasion of England in October 1066, is perhaps the most important surviving artifact of the Middle Ages. This magnificent textile, both celebrated and panned, is both enigmatic artwork and confounding historical record. With over 1780 entries, Szabo and Kuefler offer the largest and most heavily annotated bibliography on the Tapestry ever written. Notably, the Bayeux Tapestry has produced some of the most compelling questions of the medieval period: Who commissioned it and for what purpose? What was the intended venue for its display? Who was the designer and who executed the enormous task of its manufacture? How does it inform our understanding of eleventh-century life? And who was the mysterious Aelfgyva, depicted in the Tapestry’s main register? This book is an effort to capture and describe the scholarship that attempts to answer these questions. But the bibliography also reflects the popularity of the Tapestry in literature covering a surprisingly broad array of subjects. The inclusion of this material will assist future scholars who may study references to the work in contemporary non-fiction and popular works as well as use of the Bayeux Tapestry as a primary and secondary source in the classroom. The monographs, articles and other works cited in this bibliography reflect dozens of research areas. Major themes are: the Tapestry as a source of information for eleventh-century material culture, its role in telling the story of the Battle of Hastings and events leading up to the invasion, patronage of the Tapestry, biographical detail on known historical figures in the Tapestry, arms and armor, medieval warfare strategy and techniques, opus anglicanum (the Anglo-Saxon needlework tradition), preservation and display of the artifact, the Tapestry’s place in medieval art, the embroidery’s depiction of medieval and Romanesque architecture, and the life of the Bayeux Tapestry itself.

"Auslander's emphasis on the power of 'things' as a motor of historical change permits her to present a refreshingly new set of arguments about well known historical events."--Denise Z. Davidson, author of France After Revolution: Urban Life, Gender, and the New Social Order "This lucidly written book brilliantly merges material culture firmly into political history, and enriches both. Leora Auslander's original interpretation of changing gender relations in the age of the democratic revolutions offers fresh ways to understand the emotional and political work that has shaped national identity and persists into our own time. A remarkable accomplishment."--Linda K. Kerber, author of No Constitutional Right to Be Ladies: Women and the Obligations of Citizenship

The previously untold story of the violence in Congress that helped spark the Civil War In The Field of Blood, Joanne B. Freeman recovers the long-lost story of physical violence on the floor of the U.S. Congress. Drawing on an extraordinary range of sources, she shows that the Capitol was rife with conflict in the decades before the Civil War. Legislative sessions were often punctuated by mortal threats, canings, flipped desks, and all-out slugfests. When debate broke down, congressmen drew pistols and waved Bowie knives. One representative even killed another in a duel. Many were beaten and bullied in an attempt to intimidate them into compliance, particularly on the issue of slavery. These fights didn’t happen in a vacuum. Freeman’s dramatic accounts of brawls and thrashings tell a larger story of how fisticuffs and journalism, and the powerful emotions they elicited, raised tensions between North and South and led toward war. In the process, she brings the antebellum Congress to life, revealing its rough realities—the feel, sense, and sound of it—as well as its nation-shaping import. Funny, tragic, and rivetingly told, The Field of Blood offers a front-row view of congressional mayhem and sheds new light on the careers of John Quincy Adams, Henry Clay, and other luminaries, as well as introducing a host of lesser-known but no less fascinating men. The result is a fresh understanding of the workings of American democracy and the bonds of Union on the eve of their greatest peril.

This volume offers the most significant analysis of how parliament re-emerged in Myanmar in the span of a post-junta decade (2011-2021).

"For an astounding two millennia-from the Etruscans of the seventh century BCE, then through the Romans under all their forms of government, indeed down to the last Byzantine dynasty-political authorities used the device known as the 'fasces' to induce respect as well as fear. This was a bundle of wooden rods and a single-bladed axe bound with leather straps-in essence, a mobile kit for punishment. In the Renaissance, some writers and artists found it irresistable to associate the fasces with an old (and unrelated) didactic tale from Aesop illustrating how sticks are stronger once bundled. And so, over the course of the sixteenth through the early twentieth centuries, the Roman emblem came to represent not just expected concepts such as power, punishment, and justice, but now also strength, unity, and liberty against tyranny. The "Fascist" movement of Benito Mussolini, which seized power in Italy in October 1922, purported to revive the Roman emblem in its original form. But it retained aspects of the modern reimagining of the fasces, and introduced still further novelties, such as glorification of the 'lictors', the lowly attendants who carried the fasces in antiquity. Since World War II, the fasces has seen widespread but uneven eradication, in the context of a public that has grown progressively unconversant with the symbol. It is precisely the fasces' long history and relative present-day unfamiliarity that has given an opening to right-wing extremists searching for a symbol that is potent, but not widely provocative at first glance"--

From the Colonial to the Contemporary explores the representation of law, images and justice in the first three colonial high courts of India at Calcutta, Bombay and Madras. It is based upon ethnographic research work and data collected from interviews with judges, lawyers, court staff, press reporters and other persons associated with the courts. Observing the courts through the in vivo, in trial and practice, the book asks questions at different registers, including the impact of the architecture of the courts, the contestation around the renaming of the high courts, the debate over the use of English versus regional languages, forms of addressing the court, the dress worn by different court actors, rules on photography, video recording, live telecasting of court proceedings, use of CCTV cameras and the alternatives to courtroom sketching, and the ceremony and ritual that exists in daily court proceedings. The three colonial high courts studied in this book share a recurring historical tension between the Indian and British notions of justice. This tension is apparent in the semiotics of the legal spaces of these courts and is transmitted through oral history as narrated by those interviewed. The contemporary understandings of these court personnel are therefore seen to have deep historical roots. In this context, the architecture and judicial iconography of the high courts helps to constitute, preserve and reinforce the ambivalent relationship that the court shares with its own contested image.