Chronicles of an Old Inn; Or, A Few Words about Gray's Inn
Part 5
The greater part of the valuable collections made by Richard Gascoigne is now at Wentworth Woodhouse, Yorkshire. There are also relics of the Gascoigne family at Ickwellbury, Bedfordshire.
William Gascoigne became a student of the Law at Gray's Inn, and was early enrolled a member of that learned Society. His career was both brilliant and rapid. Towards the end of the reign of King Richard II. he was already so eminent in his profession that, in 1398, he was made one of the King's Serjeants.
There are records of many transactions at this period, all of which give proof, not only of Gascoigne's great abilities as a lawyer, but also testify to the esteem in which he was held on account of the fidelity and uprightness of his advice, and the invariable justice of his decisions. His great merits caused him to be appointed one of the Commissioners for Henry of Lancaster, Duke of Hereford, when this Prince was about to go into banishment.
Gascoigne had to watch over the interests and receive all moneys that might come to the Duke during his absence from England. A most onerous appointment, involving not only considerable difficulty but also no inconsiderable danger, for in those turbulent days the law of might frequently warred most successfully against the law of right.
So early as the second year of the reign of King Henry IV., Gascoigne was made Chief Justice of the King's Bench, and we find that in 1403 Judge Gascoigne and Ralph Nevill, Earl of Westmoreland, were commissioned by the King to levy and assemble forces in the counties of York and Northumberland in order to quell the insurrection of Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland.
Somewhat later these Commissioners were also empowered to treat with this same rebellious Earl.
When Archbishop Scrope and others were taken in arms against the King, His Majesty would have had Gascoigne immediately to give sentence of death against the contumacious Archbishop; but the Chief Justice refused, resolutely declaring he would not pronounce such a sentence in so irregular and illegal a manner. This refusal brought upon him the King's high displeasure, but the people praised him much for his justice and his moderation.
Again, when certain abbots, priors, knights, esquires, and other persons of distinction had been wrongfully accused, and were suffering imprisonment in consequence of the evidence of a perjured witness, Sir William detected the fraud. He then caused the false witness to be exposed and condemned, and obtained the release of the guiltless persons.
About this time, also, attorneys, by reason of their multitude, and from their malpractices, had grown to be a public nuisance. Chief Justice Gascoigne caused an Act to be passed limiting their number in every county. They had also to swear every Term that they would deal faithfully and truly by their clients, and could it be proved that they had not done so they were liable to be imprisoned for a twelve-month and condemned to pay a ransom according to the King's pleasure.
In the abstract of the Parliament rolls there is a lone insertion made of a curious and important case referred in part to the judgment of the Chief Justice. William, Lord Roos of Hamalake, brought an action against Sir Robert Therwit, one of the Justices of the King's Bench, inasmuch as he had withheld certain manors and commons in the county of Lincoln, and that he had lain in wait with five hundred men to seize or apprehend the said Lord. Sir Robert confessed his fault before the King, and offered to abide by the award of two Lords of the complainant's kindred.
These two Lords made a long judgment, and amongst other items enjoined that Sir Robert should make a great feast at Milton-le-Roos. That for this feast he should prepare two fat oxen, twelve sheep, two tuns of Gascon wine, and other provisions. That he should then assemble there all such knights, esquires, and yeomen as had been his accomplices. That they should then confess their fault to Lord Roos, craving his pardon, and offering him five hundred marks as compensation. Lord Roos should refuse this sum, but he should pardon them, and partake of their dinner.
The arbitration respecting the land however, which was the point of the greatest difficulty, was to be referred to Sir William Gascoigne, the Chief Justice.
But the event which became so noticeable in legal and in historical annals, is a remarkable circumstance that has been described by many writers, namely, his having committed the Heir Apparent to the Throne, Prince Henry, to prison for contempt of Court.
A story so extraordinary has of course been seized upon by dramatists and poets, who have so embellished the original history, that they have caused the fact to be doubted by some. However, the affair has been too simply related by some of our best historians and other grave writers to permit reasonable doubts that the circumstance did actually take place as recorded.
It appears that a servant of Prince Henry's being arraigned at Westminster before Chief Justice Gascoigne for felony, the Prince, hearing of the matter, came hastily into Court, and commanded that his follower should be unfettered and set at liberty immediately.
This demand was refused, the Chief Justice exhorting the Prince to be patient, for his servant was to be tried according to the ancient laws of the realm, adding that even in case the rigour of the law should condemn the accused, His Highness might still obtain the gracious pardon of the King, his father.
Far from being appeased by this answer, the anger of the Prince seemed only the more inflamed, and striding fiercely to the Bar, he endeavoured to rescue the prisoner by force.
Thereupon the Judge, with admirable courage and intrepidity, commanded the Prince to forbear and to depart on his way; but the Prince's rage at being thus thwarted made him quite beside himself, and, turning hastily towards the Bench, he either struck, or endeavoured to strike, the Chief Justice.
At so unparalleled an insult the Court was stricken with horror, and many threw themselves around the Judge, fearing the Prince was about to slay him, but Sir William, nothing moved by the affront that had been offered to him, nor by the peril in which he was placed, never stirred from his seat, and with dignified calm, and with a bold and assured countenance, said to the Prince:
"Sir, remember yourself. I keep here the place of your Sovereign Lord and father, to whom you owe double obedience. Wherefore in his name I charge you, desist from your wilfulness, and from this unlawful enterprise. From henceforth give good example to them, who hereafter will be your own subjects. And now, for your contempt and disobedience, go you to the prison of the King's Bench, whereunto I commit you, and remain there a prisoner, until the pleasure of the King your father be further known."
So dignified was the Judge's bearing, so noble and calm were his few coercive sentences, wherein were combined the paternal authority of the King, and the awful gravity of the Judge, that the Prince was instantly subdued.
His Highness at once laid aside his weapon, and doing reverence to the Court, he straightway withdrew, and submitted to the disgraceful punishment--a punishment degrading indeed to a Prince, the Heir Apparent to the Throne, but well merited from the outrageous insult that had led to it.
When some officious persons represented the affair to the King in such a manner that His Majesty might well have taken offence at it, the wise monarch, the wise father, defeated the ill-will of the informers by "thanking God, who had given him not only a judge who could minister, but also a son who could obey justice."
Prince Henry had been carefully educated and governed at the University of Oxford, and was afterwards for some years engaged with his father's armies in stilling the commotions constantly taking place on the borders of Wales. He seems to have done well also when first appointed President of the Council, for again our old chronicler tells us that the Commons voted him thanks for his good employment of the treasure; but, unhappily, before his Royal father's death he abandoned himself to dissolute courses, and made discreditable associates his intimate companions and friends.
After his father's death, however, on ascending the throne as Henry V., he discarded his unworthy followers, and applied himself with both assiduity and talent to the government of his kingdom.
We learn from Tressel's continuation of "Daniel's Collection of the History of England, 1641," that the King, addressing himself to his former friends, said:
"It was sufficient that for many years he had fashioned himself according to their unruly dispositions, and had wandered with them in a wilderness of riot and unthriftiness; whereby he had made himself almost an alien to the hearts of his father and allies, and had so disparaged himself, that in the eyes of mankind his presence was grown vulgar and stale, and like the cuckoo in June, was heard but not regarded." The King then proceeds to relate in brief, that when one of his associates was summoned before the Lord Chief Justice he had interposed, and had even struck the Judge, and that for this offence he had deservedly been committed to prison by the Chief Justice. The King thus terminates his speech: "For which act of justice I shall ever hold him worthy of the place and of my favour. I wish all my judges to have the like undaunted courage to punish offenders of what rank soever."
It is greatly to the honour of Henry V. that the brave and good old Chief Justice retained his post until age and infirmities compelled him to relinquish it.
Sir William Gascoigne appeared in his place in Parliament and sat in Court in Westminster Hall during the first year of the reign of King Henry V. But his long and arduous career had aged him before the allotted threescore years and ten that are given to man, and in 1413 he quitted public life.
He did not long survive his retirement, but, after a short illness, expired within a year of his resignation.
His funeral was celebrated with the magnificence due to his eminent dignity, his honourable family, his large fortune, and his exalted fame.
On a stately monument in Harwood Church, Yorkshire, where he was interred, he is represented lying at full length, attired in his judge's robes, with a hood drawn over his head. At his right side is a long dagger; on the left, a purse fastened to his girdle. One of his wives lies beside him. There are the remains of an inscription cut in brass around the edge of the tomb. Unfortunately, during the Civil Wars much of this brass-work was torn away.
In the east window of the same church there still remain some portions of the ancient glass, and in this glass can be traced the figure of a man arrayed in the scarlet robes of a judge. Both on his right hand and on his left is the figure of a kneeling woman, and above these three figures are the arms of the Gascoigne family, and also those of the Mowbrays and of the Pickerings.
LORD BURLEIGH.
William Cecil, Baron of Burleigh, Burghley, or Burley, for some time Secretary of State during the reigns of Edward VI. and Queen Elizabeth, and eventually Lord High Treasurer of England, was one of the ablest statesmen, one of the worthiest ministers that England, or indeed, any other country, has ever possessed.
He was born at Bourne, in Lincolnshire, in 1520, and was educated at the Grammar Schools of Grantham and Stamford.
He was then sent to St. John's College, Cambridge, where, finding himself associated with several young men of much talent, he was seized with such a vehement passion for learning, that it is related of him that he hired the bell-ringer to call him up every morning at four o'clock.
Unfortunately, he applied himself with too much zeal to his studies, for, by neglecting to take due precautions to keep himself in health, he brought on a severe illness, of which he was with difficulty cured.
Amongst other painful disorders, want of exercise caused his legs to swell to an immense size; and his physicians always declared that this distressing illness laid the foundation of the severe attacks of gout from which he suffered greatly during the latter years of his life.
However, during his youth, no amount of suffering could subdue his passion for learning.
He doubtless loved knowledge for the sake of acquiring knowledge; but, at the same time, it is evident from the notes he made, that a keen desire to excel all his companions and contemporaries was one of the chief spurs to his exertions.
At sixteen he read a "Lecture on Sophistry," and at nineteen he had written a lecture in Greek, a very remarkable circumstance, even amongst students at this time, as there were but few men, either at Cambridge or elsewhere, who were so perfectly masters of Greek that they could write and deliver a discourse in that language.
From Cambridge he proceeded to Gray's Inn, where he soon attracted attention, both by his energy and by the assiduity with which he applied himself to the intricate study of the law.
He was happy in the possession of two excellent qualities, qualities not often found united in the same person, sound judgment, and a remarkably retentive memory. He strengthened these powers not only by indefatigable application, but also by his habit of recording with his pen every incident or remark that appeared to him worthy of notice, both when reading or from observation. The prodigious number of notes he has left behind him, testify to the marvellous industry and care with which he devoted himself to any subject of interest.
He also seized every opportunity of meeting and conversing with clever men, delighting much in free disputes upon all sorts of subjects, by which means he early became an eloquent and a correct speaker.
He had originally intended to adopt the Law as a profession, but chance introduced him to the knowledge of, and led to his obtaining the favour of his Sovereign.
Happening one day to pay a visit to his father, who was at that time Master of the Robes to the King, he met there two priests, chaplains to O'Neill, a famous Irish Chief, who was then at the English Court. Falling into a violent dispute with them, touching the supremacy of the Pope, young Cecil displayed so much skill in the argument, which was carried on in Latin, that the circumstance came to the King's ears.
Henry, who was one of the most learned princes of the age, and who delighted in learned people, desired to see the young man who had evinced such remarkable talent, and was so favourably impressed with Cecil's good manners and good conversation, that he presently gave him the reversion of the post of _Custos brevium_.
This early introduction to Court led to an alteration of plans with respect to the Law; and as Cecil's marriage, which took place soon afterwards, with the daughter of Sir John Cheeks, brought him to the notice of the Duke of Somerset, he resolved to devote himself to the career that was now open to him.
The Protector, the Duke of Somerset, took him into great favour, and soon appointed him Master of Requests, a position of considerable importance; and in 1547 still further promoted him by advancing him to the dignity of a Secretary of State.
As another mark of regard the Protector allowed Cecil to accompany him to Scotland--a proof of affection that had well-nigh cost the young statesman his life. At the battle of Musselburgh Cecil must have been killed in the _mêlée_, had not one of his friends saved him at the expense of losing his own arm.
Within a year after the Scottish expedition the Duke of Somerset fell into disgrace, and Cecil, sharing in the misfortunes of his friend and patron, was also sent to prison, where he remained three months. On the accession of Elizabeth, however, he was not only set at liberty, but he was reinstated in his office of Secretary of State, and in 1561 the additional appointment of Master of Wards was conferred upon him.
Notwithstanding all these dignities and emoluments, his life at this time was a sorely troubled one. Not only did factious opposition distract both the Government and the Kingdom, but endless conspiracies were formed that threatened each one of the Ministry. Like the old fable of the dragon's teeth, no sooner was one plot discovered and crushed than another arose in its place.
In Leicester also Cecil had a powerful and formidable rival; but the favourite, unfortunately for himself, was intemperate in speech, and rash and violent in action.
Cecil, on the contrary, was remarkable, not only for the control he possessed over his temper during political controversies, but also for the moderation of the opinions he gave to the world. All men also agreed that he was eminently just.
The Queen, therefore, was far too clear-sighted not to perceive how valuable a minister, how judicious a counsellor she had in Cecil. The Queen also saw plainly that Cecil's interests were intimately interwoven with her own; and this wise Sovereign perfectly understood that he was fitted to be her adviser and her minister whose personal welfare, and indeed safety, depended upon the _success_ of the counsels that he gave.
Thus, amidst all the political storms and tempests that convulsed these troubled times, Cecil, by his skill and prudence, steered both himself and his Royal Mistress safely through the rocks and shoals by which they were surrounded. Others rose and fell, but Cecil ever maintained his position, and year by year gained fresh honours.
In 1571 he was raised to the Peerage by the title of Baron Burleigh. He was soon afterwards appointed Lord High Treasurer, and the great distinction of the Garter was bestowed upon him.
But while his public life was thus brilliant, his heart was bowed down by domestic affliction. His first wife had lived but a few years, and after her death he married Mildred, daughter of Sir Anthony Cooke and elder sister of Anne Cooke, afterwards Lady Bacon.
These sisters were remarkable for their beauty, their accomplishments, and their learning. They were well skilled in music, could converse in many foreign tongues, and in their knowledge of Latin and Greek were equal to some of the most famous scholars of the day. Both these fair and charming women not only obtained but succeeded in keeping the strong love of their husbands.
After a married life of forty-three years, the loss of the wife he had so fondly loved rendered Lord Burleigh a broken-hearted man. His health gave way under the excess of his affliction, and, for the first time during his long and arduous career, he felt himself unable to perform the duties of his office.
He became changed in many ways. The brightness and cheerfulness of his temper left him. He grew silent and melancholy, and from the sad hour when she, who had been the angel in his house, was taken from him, he never regained that sunny hopefulness of disposition that in happier days had been one of his peculiar characteristics.
He entreated the Queen to allow him to resign, for he desired now to spend the remainder of his days in quiet and retirement; but Elizabeth, well aware that his abilities were as brilliant as ever, was unwilling to part with her most trusted counsellor.
He yielded to the Royal command, and from this time laboured if possible more assiduously than ever, giving himself neither rest nor relaxation. Notwithstanding such prodigious exertions, and the acute sufferings he endured from attacks of gout, his life was prolonged beyond the usual age of man.
His last memorable public act was endeavouring to give peace to his country, when reasonable terms might have been obtained from Spain.
These terms, though considered reasonable by Burleigh, were violently opposed by the Earl of Essex; who, having gained some reputation by the sword, was unwilling to favour peace.
He, in fact, expressed himself in such passionate language, that the Lord Treasurer, after listening for a considerable time in calm silence, was at length moved to say, "that the noble Lord seemed intent on nothing but blood and slaughter."
Then he pulled out a prayer-book, and with a dignity befitting his age and experience, and with an earnestness that deeply impressed those around, he pointed to the following words: "Men of blood shall not live out half their days." This was his last appearance in public.
Never again did Lord Burleigh attend either Council or Parliament, but even when confined to his bed during the last trying and suffering illness, he prepared and settled a new treaty between the Queen and the States, whereby this nation was relieved of an expense of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds per annum.
Then, having filled the highest and most important offices of State, in the seventy-eighth year of his age, calmly and peacefully, about five o'clock in the morning of the 4th of August, 1598, surrounded by his children and grandchildren, his dearest friends, and by many old and faithful servants, he passed away from this life, full of years, rich in honours, at peace with all men, and humbly trusting by the mercy of his God, he should again see her whom he had so passionately loved.
The history of Burleigh's life is the history of England during one of the most anxious and troubled, but also one of the most memorable and glorious periods this country has ever known.
For forty years this great statesman guided the helm of Government, and although the Queen from time to time allowed others to have influence with her, yet whenever difficulties arose or matters occurred of more than ordinary moment, it was in her long-tried and faithful Minister that Elizabeth invariably confided.
The moderate views, the calm foresight and wisdom of this consummate politician, caused him not only to be regretted after his death, but to be valued during his life, a good fortune that but rarely falls to the lot of even the most celebrated political leaders.
Burleigh deserved, and he obtained, the esteem and respect both of his Sovereign and of her people, and from the beginning to the end of his glorious career, however much men may have differed from him in opinion, they ever acknowledged his honesty of purpose, his hearty love for his country, and his earnest desire to increase both her prosperity and her renown.
At this distance of time, when subsequent events have shown the fallacy of most of the hopes and fears that then influenced mankind, many may see reason to disapprove of his policy; but it must be remembered that in the sixteenth century swords were more readily drawn than they now are. Measures that to-day seem needlessly harsh, were often forced upon statesmen of that period by the fears and also suspicions of their own partisans.
Not only was Burleigh gifted with talents beyond the ordinary endowments of men, but in all outward seeming Nature had been lavish in her kindly gifts to him. Well-shaped, handsome, and graceful in person, he also possessed in no common degree that winning charm of manner that not only gains the affection of friends, but which also adds such especial happiness to the intercourse of domestic life.
His mode of living was such as became a man of high rank, entertaining with magnificent hospitality all those who, from rank, merit, and talent, were entitled to his acquaintance. To every one who came to his house he was courteous and cheerful, for he held that a host should not, by silent or reserved behaviour, mar the enjoyment of his guests.