THE STRATFORD LAWYER.
The arrival of strangers to take up their abode for any length of time
in such a town as Stratford-upon-Avon, always furnished matter of
curiosity and speculation amongst the inhabitants. The neighbours were
known to each other so well, and there was comparatively so little
travel, that a certain degree of suspicion attached to all new-comers in
those dangerous days. When any of the townsmen had business, even a few
miles off, it was usual for them to arrange matters go that two or three
might travel in company. Neighbour Fustian, the hosier, having business
in Warwick, agreed to travel the road in company with neighbour Lambe,
the glover, whose trade made him a visitor to Coventry, whilst the
latter stayed the convenience of mine host of the Falcon, who was,
peradventure, bound for the latter town, and all three, mounted and
armed, went and returned in company, rather than trust purse and person
singly to the chances of the road.
Robbing on the highway, although by no means so common as in the
preceding reign, was still frequent. The woods were thick in this part
of Warwickshire, and the gentlemen of the shade found it easy to elude
pursuit after a highway robbery. Nay, but a few short years before, and
during the York and Lancaster feuds, which had deluged the land with
blood; what with disbanded men-at-arms, thieves, and caitiffs of one
sort or other, the roads were but cut-throat defiles, and the country
round a continued battle-field.
So that during the troublous reign of Henry VI. it had been especially
ordered, that between the towns of Coventry, Warwick, and
Stratford-upon-Avon, the highways should be widened, by cutting down
trees on either hand, in order that travellers and wayfarers might have
more room to defend themselves against the numerous robbers and caitiffs
infesting those parts.
On the morning following the transactions we have recorded in the
foregoing chapter, there were several subjects of interest commented
upon and discussed in the little back room which constituted the office
of one Pouncet Grasp, the head-lawyer of the town. One was the sojourn
of several strangers, whom no one knew anything about, at one of the
hostels: another was a dark and alarming rumour of a suspicious sort of
illness having broken out in the suburbs: and another was the
circumstance of a man, having all the appearance of a person of
condition, having been found, stabbed in several places, and lying, with
the pockets of his doublet rifled, a stiffened and unhandsome corse, in
the road leading to the ferry beyond the church.
Master Pouncet Grasp himself was seated upon a high stool near the
window of his office, which looked into a green and bowery garden,
having at its further extremity a most pleasant bowling-green; the river
just to be distinguished in the distance beyond, amongst the marshy
meadows.
Some two or three clerks were seated in different parts of the
apartment, all busily engaged, pen in hand, scrawling strange
hieroglyphics upon certain sheets of parchment before them, making a
dreadful sound of incessant scribbling with their pens.
Master Grasp himself, the monarch of all he surveyed, and an especial
tyrant over the unfortunate clerks he presided over, was the only
personage in that small apartment who seemed to have freedom of thought
and motion, and license to take his attention from the crackling
parchments beneath his nose.
If our readers have ever taken the trouble to picture to themselves the
clerk of Chatham, with his pen and ink-horn hung round his neck, they
will have some idea of the figure of our Stratford lawyer in his own
office. Only that, whereas we imagine the clerk of Chatham to have been
a sort of dreamy, drawling person, Master Pouncet was rather more swift,
sententious, and mercurial. Law had sharpened his wit, irritated his
temper, levelled his honesty, and urged his avarice.
Any one to have watched him when alone in his glory, and only seen by
his clerks, would have taken him to be half insane. The moment, however,
a client or a stranger appeared, he put on a new face and a demeanour
suited to the occasion; appearing wise in council, amiable in
disposition, and staid and sober in manners, whereas before he had been
like a chattering ape irritated with a hot chestnut.
"Now do I wonder who these strangers may be," he said, leaving off his
writing and jumping round in his seat; "truly I must run down to goodman
Doubletongue and confer with him on the subject. Will Shakespeare," he
said, jumping back again, "get thee down to----Ah, I forgot that
pestilent Shakespeare hath not been to the office for a whole week. Ah,
the caitiff! Oh, the villain! See, too," he said, opening his desk and
searching amongst his papers, "the vile rubbish he inditeth when he is
here in place of copying what is set before him. What! you grin there,
do ye? driving wights that ye are. Grin, my masters, _whilst ye work_,
an ye list. But, an ye _leave off_ to grin, see an I brain ye not with
this ruler. Shakespeare--ah, a pretty name that, and a precious hounding
scamp is the fellow that owns it. Here's goodly stuff toward! Here's
loves of the gods and goddesses for you! Here's Venus, Adonis, Cytherea,
hid in the rushes; Proserpina and Pluto, besides half a dozen heathen
deities, devils, satyrs, and demigods, all dancing the hays in a lump!"
So saying, Pouncet Grasp turned over the leaves of a sort of manuscript
poem, written upon a quantity of backs of letters and dirty sheets of
paper, and, after glancing through the contents, sent them fluttering
and flying at the head of one of his clerks.
"There," said he, "that's the way my ink is spoiled, and my documents
destroyed. I suppose now, that your friend and crony there," he
continued, addressing himself to the young man at whose head he had
thrown the manuscript, "I suppose your unintelligible friend calls that
incomprehensible and unaccountable rubbish a sort of rough draught of a
poem. I'm not learned in such productions, but methinks he that wrote of
such lewd doings ought to be whipped at the cart's tail, or put in the
stocks at least."
"I was not aware," said the youth addressed, (and who under cover of his
industry had been laughing all the time Master Grasp was reading the
poem), "I was not aware William Shakespeare has ever written a poem
about the gods."
"_Si-lence_," cried Grasp, sticking his pen behind his ear and looking
fierce, as he wheeled round and faced about, first to one and then to
another of his clerks. "_Si-lence_, ye scoundrel scribblers, or by the
Lord Harry----"
The clerk, who knew from experience the irritable nature of his
taskmaster, took the hint and redoubled his exertions with the pen and
parchment before him, only occasionally, as he stole a furtive glance at
his companions and observed the lawyer's attention in another direction,
lolling out his tongue or executing a hideous grimace at him.
"I pr'ythee, sirs, inform me," said Grasp, again interrupting the
silence he had commanded, "when was that mad-headed ape last in this
office?"
"Of whom was it your pleasure to speak?" inquired the youth who had
received the compliment of the poem at his head.
"Of whom should I speak, sinner that I am, but of him of whom I _last
spoke_--that incomprehensible, uncontrollable varlet--that scribbler of
bad verse--that idle companion of thine?"
"He was here but yesterday," said the lad.
"Yesterday!" said Grasp, "why I _saw_ him not; I _heard_ him not;
neither did he indite a line of that I left for him to work at."
"He was fetched away almost as soon as he came," said the lad.
"Fetched away! who should fetch William Shakespeare away I trow, and
from my house, without leave, licence, and permission granted _from_ and
_by_ me to take the person of the said Shakespeare?"
"Master Walter Arderne, from the Hall, called for him, and they went
away together," said the lad.
"Master Arderne, an called for one of my lads here! why what's in the
wind now I trow, and why sent ye not to the Falcon for me, ye sinner?"
"He asked not for you, sir," returned the lad, "he asked for William
Shakespeare."
"Now the fiend take thee for a stupid dolt," said Grasp; "what an if he
did ask for William Shakespeare, of course it was me he wished to confer
with; only, as he found I was out, he inquired for the first idiot who
had sense enough to take his message, and the chance fell upon the
greatest scrape-grace and the most consummate ape in the whole lot.
"Miserable sinner that I am! That varlet hath forgotten to deliver the
message he received from Master Arderne. Who knoweth the import of such
message, so entrusted, and confided, and given, and--and--lost perhaps
for ever?----Ah! and----Peradventure Sir Hugh Clopton hath been seized
with apoplexy, and I have been sent for to confer about his will, or
mayhap Master Arderne hath wished for my advice, anent drawing up the
articles of marriage betwixt himself and that most beautified of young
ladies his cousin.----Or, peradventure the match may have been broken
off, and he may wish for my advice on the let and hindrance thereof.
Nay, it is impossible to say in how much I am deteriorated and damaged,
both in purse, person, and reputation by the mistakes, misconduct, and
mismanagement of that pestilent conglomeration of vices, idleness, and
villany--that scurvy companion, that ill favoured----"
"William Shakespeare, I suppose you mean," said that youth himself, who
at the moment entered unperceived, and stood smiling at the door whilst
he listened to the scurrility of Grasp. "Nay, finish your sentence, and
fill up the measure of your abuse, master-mine," said Shakespeare,
advancing towards Grasp, who seemed struck all of a heap by his
presence. "I have heard it is your pleasure to rail upon me behind my
back, and, as I well know I deserve some slight portion of your anger, I
am as well content to receive it myself, in place of its being put upon
these lads, my fellows."
"Nay, good William," said the lawyer (whose excitement seemed to have
vanished in a most unaccountable manner, in the presence of his clerk);
"I named you not, I meant you not, I spoke not your name, that I am
aware of. At least not at this precise moment. Did I name our good
William lads? Did I couple his name--?"
"If you did, I care not," said the youth, "since (as I have before said)
I feel myself in some sort deserving of your censure. The law suiteth
not my disposition, neither can I give my mind up to its dry study. I
wrong thee, Master Grasp, when I attempt to serve thee, and I should use
oceans of ink and reams of paper ere I learnt even how to serve a writ
properly. It is easier to pretend to be what we are not, than hide what
we really are, Master Grasp, and I will be content to be under
imputation of those ill names you have given me, provided you add not
lawyer to the number; only, in as much as you have favoured me with
those terms, we must be content to part. I do not _beat thee_, Master
Grasp, because thou art weak in body, and somewhat old; but I do warn
thee not to couple my name in future, when you speak of me, with those
opprobrious epithets you have just used. I am no villain at least, and
so farewell for ever, Master Grasp." And Shakespeare turned abruptly and
left the office.
"Now that's what I call a circumstance," said the lawyer; "here's a
large mouth, here's a goodly gentleman: a stipendiary, a stripling, a
mere school-boy, who hath scarce been two months in my office, and to
rebel, and take himself off thus. Well, be it so. I am well rid of the
rebel, but an I have him not on the hip ere long, my name is not Grasp.
And now I forgot to demand of him the message sent to me from Clopton
Hall. My boots! my boots!" he called to the serving-wench, "and tell
Davey to clap saddle upon Sorrel. Troth I will ride to Clopton, and
inquire me of the steward what's amiss there."
When the serving-man brought the lawyer his boots, he announced a client
in waiting. "One to advise with your worship," said the man, "upon
matters of import, as he saith."
"Ah," said Grasp, "what manner of man, Davey man, and where
from,----what's his name too?"
"A would not give his name, but a said he were from Warwick," said
Davey.
"From Warwick, Davey? eh? Right, good Davey. I do expect one from
Warwick to-day,--I had forgotten as much--and so you showed him into the
front chamber?"
"I did, master," said Davey.
"And is all in order in that apartment, Davey?"
"It be so," said Davey.
"Papers, parchments, deeds, and strong boxes, all in their places,
Davey?" inquired Grasp.
"Yes, master, like nest-eggs. He! he! he!"
"And you told him I was engaged with another client on business of
import,--of immense import,--eh, Davey?"
"Trust I for that!" said Davey.
"Good, then, take him a cup of wine, Davey. Tell him I will see him the
moment I am disengaged, and then bring me hither my capon and tankard.
And d'ye hear,--after you have done that, mount Sorrel yourself, and
ride over to Clopton; make some excuse to introduce yourself into the
servants' hall, and just take a look, and observe if there be anything
out of the common there. You understand?"
"He! he! hap I do," said Davey, with a knowing wink, as he hurried out
to execute his several commissions.
When the important little lawyer condescended to give audience to the
particular client his serving-man David had announced, he found himself
in company with a tall aristocratic-looking person, dressed in the
somewhat faded appointments of a military man of the period: that is to
say, he wore the leathern doublet usually covered by the breast-plate
and back-piece, the stains upon it showing it had seen much service in
the field as well as the table, whilst the scarf and jingling spur still
farther denoted the profession of arms.
"Master Algernon Neville!" said the man of parchment, as soon as the
striking figure of the visitor saluted his eye on entering the room. "I
would your honour had sent in your name. I should hardly have kept you
so long in waiting here. Body o' me, I had no idea it was your
honourable self."
"Nor much desire so to find it, I dare be sworn, Grasp," said the
visitor. "But, sooth to say, I am come to thee again, and upon the same
errand as when I last was here."
"Advice, eh?" said Grasp; "truly your honour shall have it,--the best I
can give."
"I am bounden to thee, good Grasp," said the visitor, "for thy advice;
but there was, as thou knowest, something else I required of thee
besides thy advice, good as it doubtless was."
"Moneys?" said Grasp. "Truly I am not likely to forget I did also
advance certain moneys,--moneys you required to take you over to
Scotland."
"And now, if I require more moneys," said the visitor, "can you
accommodate me again?"
"Marry can I," said Grasp; "what sum does your honour require?"
The visitor hesitated. He looked shrewdly at Grasp, and taking the pen
from the inkstand marked on a piece of paper several figures.
"I want that," he said, handing the paper to Grasp.
"Mass, a round sum!" said Grasp; "but upon such security as you can give
you shall have it, honoured sir. Nay, double an you want it."
"Why, gad a-mercy!" said the visitor, in some surprise, "hast thou been
the Virginian voyage since I saw thee last? Rich thou hast always been
since I knew thee, but so ready to part with thy moneys I never knew
thee before."
"Your honour will pardon me for the simile," said Grasp; "but there are
a sort of men who are fortune's favourites, and who like cats ever light
upon their legs. Your honour hath surely heard a piece of news which
nearly concerns you?"
"I know of no news likely to effect my fortunes," said the visitor,
"having but lately arrived in England. Hast thou anything of import to
communicate?"
"Body o' me," said Grasp, "why, I concluded you _had heard_, or I had
communicated it immediately I saw you! Know you not the Earl of
Westmoreland is dead!"
"Nay, is this true?" said Neville, starting.
"True as that your honour is his next heir," said Grasp.
"And where died he?" inquired the visitor.
"In Italy, where he hath been long in exile, as thou know'st."
"Ah!" said Neville, "this is somewhat unlucky!"
"Unlucky?" said Grasp. "Heard ye ever the like o' that! What can be
unlucky that bodes your honour so much good? You are in fact and in
right, _de facto et de jure_, next heir to the earldom of Westmoreland."
"Would that I had known of this but yesterday!" said Neville,
abstractedly; "'twould have spared me from participating in this last
business."
"Did your honour observe anything?" said Grasp, staring at his visitor,
who seemed wrapped in the thought and cogitations consequent upon the
news he had just heard.
"'Tis no matter," he muttered at length to himself, "I will betray them
all. Harkee, good Grasp," he continued, after a considerable pause,
"'tis quite true, that which thou say'st. I am next heir to the title
and estate of Westmoreland. But it follows not, therefore, that I shall
succeed to them, as I am in disgrace and under suspicion. Could I indeed
do some acceptable service to the Queen, I might recover those estates
and honours forfeited by the rebellion of the earl just now deceased."
"That were, indeed, a way to recover," said Grasp; "but does your honour
know of any acceptable service that might do yourself honour and her
majesty pleasure?"
"I do," said Neville, "and you can aid me in it; but I warn you, it is
attended with danger."
"In aiding you I serve the Queen, it seems," said Grasp, "Is't not so?"
"It is so," said Neville.
"Ergo, it is profitable," said Grasp.
"It is so," said Neville.
"Then am I content to encounter the danger," said Grasp, "since I am
well aware that titles, honours, and profit are not to be gained without
some sort of risk; and now tell us, honoured sir, what is to be done."
"To discover a plot and arrest the traitors," said Neville.
"Ah," said Grasp, with alacrity, "that were indeed a circumstance. An
you could find such a matter as a ready-made plot, and light upon a nest
of traitors, I should say you were in luck's way, as usual, good Master
Neville."
"I can do both, good Grasp," said Neville, "and that not a thousand
miles from this town; nay, not a thousand yards from this house."
"Ah, say'st thou," said Grasp, "not a thousand yards from this house? As
sure as my name is Grasp, your words point at the strangers who have
been for the last two days playing at hide-and-seek at the Checquers. Am
I right, good sir?"
"You are," said Neville.
"Now, praise be to my sagacity," said Grasp, "I all along suspected
those mysterious men of being evil-doers. There is treason and concealed
villany in their very shadows as they glide about. What is the nature of
their designs and their intent, good Master Neville? are they emissaries
of the Spaniard? or are they----"
"Let it suffice, their intentions are dangerous to the safety of the
Queen, and they are secretly drawing into their conspiracy many Catholic
gentlemen in this county who are discontented with the present
government. Nay, five of them are sworn by the most binding oaths to
sacrifice themselves to the service of taking the life of the Queen."
"Oh, the villains!" said Grasp, rubbing his hands with delight at the
prospect of being accessory to the discovery of a conspiracy of so much
magnitude. "Oh, the caitiffs! a plot to destroy our blessed Queen, and
ruin the nation! now that's what I call worth living to hear of. I'm a
made man, that's clear."
"Nay, but," said Neville, "we must go warily to work, good Grasp; and I
must damp the exuberance of thy glee a trifle, inasmuch as this business
is likely to implicate and deprive thee perhaps of a client of thine."
"Ah," said Grasp, his countenance falling a little, "that's rather bad,
who is the man?"
"Sir Hugh Clopton."
"Thou hast taken my breath away," said Grasp, recoiling a pace or two.
"Sir Hugh Clopton, whom men call the good Sir Hugh, engaged in such a
bloodthirsty and jesuitical plot as this? Are you quite sure, honoured
sir, of the correctness of what you utter?"
"I am quite sure that some of those engaged and deeply pledged to
assassinate the Queen have been in hiding at Clopton Hall within the
last two days. Nay, I shall be able to identify several of the best
Catholic families in this county, as having been in correspondence with
emissaries in Scotland, not only to assassinate Elizabeth, but to set
the Queen of Scots at liberty, and place the crown upon her head."
"Nay, this is glorious," said Grasp; "the plot does indeed thicken, as
the saying is. The fiend take the good Sir Hugh; I would sacrifice fifty
such clients, and see them hanged, drawn, and quartered into the
bargain, for such a chance as this. And now let us lay our heads
together, and consult how to capture these bloody-minded conspirators
with most advantage to our own proper selves. How shall we proceed,
honoured sir? Shall we rouse the whole _posse comitatus_, and attack the
house in which these miscreants are engendering, and hatching, and
concocting those horrors; or, shall we go incontinent, and give secret
intelligence to Sir Thomas Lucy at Charlecote?"
"That I must leave to your discretion, good Grasp," said Neville. "Your
part must be to secure them ere twenty-four hours have elapsed.
Meantime, I must ride post haste to London, and give information to the
Queen or her ministers of the whole affair."
"I would your worship would remain here, and capture the caitiffs,
whilst I proceed up to town with information," said Grasp. "Methinks, as
you are a man of _war_, and I am a man of _law_, that would be the most
proper arrangement."
"By no means," said Neville. "Manage the matter as I have told thee. Do
it well and effectually, and reward is sure to follow to us both. It is
essential that I should myself gain favour by the discovery, and if I
should succeed to the estates and title of Westmoreland, I shall not
forget the service you have rendered. Be wary, and prosper. Farewell."
So saying, the visitor hastily took his leave, and a few minutes
afterwards was riding furiously towards Warwick, on his way to London.
"Now, there's a bloody-minded and dangerous Jesuit for you," said Grasp
to himself. "He thinks I know not that he's a Catholic, I suppose, and
that I cannot guess he has been as deep in this vile plot as the rest of
them. But I do bear a brain, and I can perceive that the death of his
relation hath completely turned his conscience, and now, in place of
helping to murder the Queen, he's going to hang up all his associates,
by turning evidence. A bad world, my masters, and bad folks in it! But
then it's by the bad I gain and thrive; bickerings, quarrellings,
evil-speaking, lying, and slander, plots, counterplots, conspiracies,
hangings, and headings, are my especial good. So now to consider and
contrive this matter. Let me see--I instantly hasten off to the high
bailiff, get together a sufficient body of his men, and then, my
masters, look to yourselves! A plot to kill the Queen, subvert the
Government, and burn the whole kingdom in an _auto-da-fe_! By all that's
good, the business will not be effected without blood-letting on both
sides! Let me see, who have we of approved valour and conduct to aid us
in this capture? There's Master John Shakespeare; he's a good man and a
true one, that will thrust in, and smite hard. His grandsire did good
service at Bosworth Field. Then there's Goodman Rivett, the armourer; he
hath an arm of might, and a heart of steel,--him will I also look up, an
we need special men. Then there's--Yet," continued Grasp, pausing, and
considering the matter, "methinks, after all, it would be better to put
the affair at once into the management of Sir Thomas Lucy. Yes, I will
incontinently and instantaneously proceed to Charlecote, and do so. Let
me see; 'tis now about one hour after noon. I shall catch the proud
knight just before he takes his post-prandium ride."
So saying, Grasp donned his hat, and prepared for his visit to
Charlecote.