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.
Whenever he could obtain a little relaxation from the press of public
business, he would hasten to the country, for his great delight was to
improve and beautify both his family seat at Burleigh and his house
and gardens at Theobalds; but above all he loved Theobalds, and, as
he expresses it, always fled there whenever it was possible to bury
himself in its delightful privacy.
Lord Burleigh had also two other places of residence--his lodgings at
Court, and his house on the Strand. In his house in London he had
fifty persons of his family, and his expenses there, he writes to
a friend, were thirty pounds a week when absent, and between forty
and fifty when present. At Theobalds he had thirty persons of his
household. Besides the sum he gave away in charity, he directed that
ten pounds a week were always to be laid out in keeping the "poor" at
work in his gardens. His stables cost him about a thousand marks a year.
In his service, or, rather, in his household, he had ever young men of
much distinction, they deeming it an honour to serve him.
Besides his customary hospitality, he several times entertained the
Queen sumptuously, and at an expense of many thousand pounds.
He built three fine houses--one in London, on the Strand, another at
Theobalds, and a third at Burleigh. All these houses were, though
large and grand, still more remarkable from their neatness and general
convenience.
Though thus spending both liberally and magnificently, Burleigh was
ever prudent and careful. He took good heed as to how his money went.
He kept rigid accounts, and attended carefully, even minutely, to all
domestic matters.
Writing to a friend respecting household arrangements, he says:
"My house of Burghley is of my mother's inheritance, who liveth and is
the owner thereof. I am but a farmer; yet, when I am in the country, I
must buy my grain, my beef, my mutton; and, for my stable, I buy my hay
for the greatest part, my oats and my straw totally."
When in the country he loved to walk about and talk to the country
folk, and would often stop to soothe little children in their troubles,
or watch them in their play, so gentle was his temper, so abundant was
his good-nature.
At his death, notwithstanding his liberal and magnificent expenditure,
and though he was so little avaricious that he made less during his
forty years of office than most men at that period would have made in
seven, so prudently had he managed his affairs, that he left about
£4,000 a year in land, £11,000 in money, and about £14,000 in valuable
effects.
SIR EDWARD COKE.