The use of maces in a ceremonial capacity can be lost in a modern context. The mace as a combat weapon dates back to at least the 12th century. At its simplest, a mace is a heavy metal round, cylindrical, or square-ish piece affixed to a wooden shaft. Foot soldiers quickly found that the mace was able to produce concussive and blunt force damage against opponents wearing metallic armor, where edged weapons of the day were less effective against that type of armor. One can imagine taking a mace hit while wearing a metal helmet would more than live up to the phrase, “getting one’s bell rung.” Even if the force of the mace hit did not kill an opponent, the chances of rendering the unlucky helmed infantryman combat ineffective were much greater than a similar hit from a sword. Maces also had the advantage of being cheaper to produce than swords. Even a blacksmith of mediocre skill could produce a basic mace, where sword-marking requires an advanced level of smithing knowledge.

The effectiveness, simplicity, and low cost of the mace meant that both noble knights and regular foot soldiers were often equally equipped. Not wishing to wield a weapon available to any commoner, those with means began embellishing the design of the mace. The artistic improvements of maces outstripped their usefulness on the battlefield with the advent of gunpowder, but the mace was not totally forgotten. If one pays close attention to marching bands, the Drum Major can be seen carrying a mace. In today’s marches down main street, the mace is used for direction and keeping tempo for the band. The original use of the mace was as a weapon for the Drum Major to protect his drummers. Being the chief means of communication during the gunpowder era, drummers were vital to conveying orders over the din of battle.

The medieval weapon began to take on a more ceremonial role in the early Renaissance. During military negotiations it was a common practice for the host to bring out their mace and lay it on a plinth. The gesture indicated that the host was laying down his arms and the negotiations would be peaceful. The allure of military pomp and circumstance bled over into the civilian world and wildly intricate maces began to represent town leader’s and university’s symbol of authority. Today ceremonial maces are used throughout the British Commonwealth as a symbol of that country’s legislative body to govern. A number of religious bodies also make use of a form the mace in their ceremonies. The Church of England, for example, has a position known as a verger who utilizes a ceremonial mace (usually referred to as a staff in ecclesiastical parlance) to conduct worshipers around the church.

Most Americans would be surprised to know that the “mace tradition” was incorporated into the practices of the United States House of Representatives. During the first Congress in April of 1789, one of the first resolutions passed by the House of Representatives was to establish a sergeant-at-arms with a mace as his symbol of office.  The mace would not be presented to House of Representatives until 30 January 1798 and the timing could not have been more fortuitous.  Two weeks later, Representatives Matthew Lyon and Roger Griswold would be involved in a dustup during a legislative session. For Lyon’s unforgivable sin of spitting tobacco juice on Griswold without official redress, Griswold took it upon himself to exact retribution by trashing Lyon with a wooden walking stick. Wishing to keep his skull intact, Lyon picked up a pair of fire tongs to stave off Griswold’s blows. The two men were pulled apart by their legislative brethren and the sergeant-at-arms without any appreciable injury.   While it is unknown if the mace was physically used to break up the fracas, the mace’s symbolic conveyance of authority put a stop to the altercation.  Much like a police officer’s badge is a societal signpost that a person has been entrusted with enforcing laws and keeping the peace, the House of Representatives Mace is the the sergeant-at-arms’ symbol of authority to enforce propriety on the House floor. The original mace was destroyed in 1814 when the Capitol Building was burned during the War of 1812. A new mace was commissioned and has been in use since 1842. The sergeant-at-arms still uses a Congressional Mace as a reminder to caning-minded Representatives such bad behavior is strictly verboten.

The University of Edinburgh’s original ceremonial mace had a colorful back-story. The legend of the university mace begins 120 years before the university was chartered in Saint Andrews.  Bishop James Kennedy was a notable behind the scenes political figure who was very briefly the Chancellor of Scotland and founded Saint Andrew’s Saint Salvador College in 1450.  The legend holds that Bishop Kennedy commissioned six different silver ceremonial maces from Parisian goldsmith Johne Mair in 1461.  When Bishop Kennedy died in 1465 two versions of what happened next are commonly told. The first being that upon his death each of the maces were deposited in Kennedy’s tomb within Saint Salvador’s chapel. The other version of the story is that during the Scottish Reformation in 1560 the maces were hidden in Kennedy’s tomb to conceal the ornaments from overzealous Protestants bend on plundering Catholic riches. In either case, the legend picks up with the six maces being found in Kennedy’s tomb around 1683. Three of these maces would, and still do, reside at Saint Andrews. The other three were sent as gifts to the Universities of Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Aberdeen.

As fanciful as the legend of Kennedy’s maces are, there’s not much historical merit to the anecdote. Of the mace legend, University of Saint Andrew’s Art History Reader Julian Luxford said, “That is a pleasant, romantic and basically harmless myth.”  The University of Edinburgh backs up Luxford’s position because their records indicate their mace had been in use since 1640, but has no idea how the University obtained the mace. The providence of the mace didn’t concern the Edinburgh Town Council or the Scottish Parliament who borrowed the University’s mace from 1651–5 and 1660 respectively.  It’s possible that the legend was known to Deacon Brodie and he thought the University’s mace was more valuable than it actually was.