<108>Unconscious of their high destiny, and utterly unembarrassed by any theories about their constitutional position, the Commons May 4.Sentence upon Michell.steadily pursued the course upon which they had entered, and continued to strike at practical abuses. The day after judgment had been delivered in the case of the late Lord Chancellor, they were summoned to the bar of the Upper House to hear Michell sentenced to degradation from the order of knighthood, to imprisonment during the King’s pleasure, to a fine of 1,000l., and to perpetual exclusion from public office.[148]
Not many days before, a fresh case of corruption had been laid before the Lords. It had been proved, to the satisfaction of the Commons, April 24.Charge against Sir J. Bennett.that Sir John Bennett, the Judge of the Prerogative Court, had abused the opportunities afforded by his jurisdiction, to extort large sums from those who had, in due course, applied to him for letters of administration.[149]
With these vigorous proceedings the King had no reason to be displeased. With his usual indolence, he was glad enough to see April 20.The King on good terms with the Houses.others labouring to detect abuses which he had never discovered himself. If he was jealous at all, it was rather of the form than of the substance of authority. It was in this spirit that, on April 20, he had addressed the Houses. They would do well, he said, to <109>take away all patents that were grievances, and likewise those grievances of unjust judges. It was a happy thing for him to be informed of such great abuses. But let them beware of attacking his Ministers for private objects;[150] and above all, let them see that they did not abridge the authority of the courts, or of the Royal prerogative.[151]
These last words were evidently directed against a bill which had just been read a first time in the Commons. Under The Bill for Chancery Reform.the modest title of ‘An Act for the Reversing of Decrees in Courts of Equity on just cause,’ it provided that, at the re-hearing of any case in Chancery, the two Chief Justices and the Chief Baron should act as assistants to the Chancellor, or, in other words, that the final decision in a court, the main value of which consisted in its readiness to afford redress against the injustice committed by the common law judges, should be entrusted to a body in which those very judges composed the majority. Such a bill would doubtless be highly satisfactory to Coke, as it would give him back, at a blow, all the ground which he had lost in his dispute with Ellesmere in 1616. But James, whatever his motives may have been, did good service in opposing so retrograde a measure.[152]
The House had, in the course of the session, given way too often to the King’s susceptibilities to make it probable that Fresh supplies refused.offence would be taken at this last specimen of self-assertion. There were, however, some demands to which it was impossible to assent. For the first time for more than two months, James addressed a few words to the Commons on the subject of the state of the Continent. He was continuing to negotiate, he said, in hope of peace; but in the meanwhile it would be necessary to purchase arms and to prepare for war. All this would require money; and the <110>subsidies which had been so freely granted were already spent. He hoped, therefore, that an additional supply would not be refused.
James had yet to learn, that the one way to gain support from the Commons was to take them into his confidence. Vague assurances of good intention were not enough, unless he could openly invite their co-operation in carrying out a definite policy. They accordingly received his demand with studied silence, and returned no reply whatever.
It was evident that time was weakening any confidence which, at the beginning of the session, the House may have been The patent for alehouses condemned.April 21.inclined to repose in the foreign policy of the King. But in domestic affairs he was still, within reasonable limits, able to have his way. The very day after he had asked for a fresh subsidy, the patent for alehouses, which had been virtually condemned weeks before, but which had never been actually declared a grievance, was brought up for discussion. Hard things were said of Mandeville, who had been one of the referees; and there was every sign that the House wished to call him to account for the part which he had taken in the matter. But there was one obstacle in the way. The patent had been already withdrawn by proclamation; and the King, who had so lately recommended the House to be careful of infringing the Royal prerogative, might take umbrage if they showed their distrust of his word by passing a formal censure on an abuse which he had already disposed of, or if they again stirred up the old question of the responsibility of the referees. Phelips, impetuous as he was, recommended, at least, delay; but the resolution to proceed to a parliamentary condemnation of the grant was supported by men of such known moderation as Roe and Sackville, and they had no difficulty in carrying their point.[153]
James, as soon as he heard what had passed, showed every sign of vexation. It was strange, he said to Cranfield, who was The King’s displeasure.fast rising into the position of a mediator between the Crown and the Commons, that the House could not remember what he had said till the sun had gone once about. <111>Cranfield did what he could to pacify him. The House, he replied, had done nothing but what was for his Majesty’s honour. James told him that he thanked them for that, but that he wished they would not be so careful for his honour as to destroy his service. He would not have the referees questioned, unless it could be shown that they had been influenced by corruption. Any man was capable of making a mistake.
The Commons retreated, without loss of dignity, from the position which they had assumed. They examined Mandeville’s April 24.The Commons give way.certificate in favour of the patentees, and, affecting to be thoroughly satisfied with it, passed on to inquire into the conduct of the patentees themselves. Yet it was soon evident that there was no serious intention of prosecuting the matter further. The offenders were released on bail. They were examined by a committee, and a report was presented to the House. It was then ordered that the question should be taken into consideration at a future day, and the matter was allowed to drop.[154]
Another difficulty, which arose about the same time, was less easily settled. On April 18, Yelverton was, by the King’s permission, April 18.Yelverton blames the King.fetched from the Tower and examined in the House of Lords upon his knowledge of the circumstances attending the grant of the patent for inns, and the patent for the manufacture of gold and silver thread. Smarting under his imprisonment, he let fall some rash words about his own punishment. If ever, he said, he had deserved well of his Majesty, it was by his conduct in the affair of the patent for inns; and yet his behaviour on that occasion had been the cause of his present suffering.[155]
If James had been displeased with the Commons for their attack upon Mandeville, he was April 24.The King demands he shall be questioned.furious with the Lords for permitting such words to pass in silence. He fancied that he saw in their conduct evidence that they were ready to welcome an assault upon Buckingham. He went down at once to the House, gave <112>his own account of Yelverton’s proceedings, and called upon the Peers to punish him for the slander.[156]
Yelverton’s spirit was now fully roused. Standing at bay, he refused to explain away his words. He had done his best, he said, April 30.Yelverton attacks Buckingham.to stop the proceedings of the Exchequer against the offenders who had kept open their inns in defiance of the patent. It was for this that he had been threatened with the ill-will of the all-powerful favourite, who stood ‘ever at his Majesty’s hand, ready to hew him down.’ Mompesson had brought threatening messages, telling him that, if he did not take care, he would run himself upon the rocks, and that, unless he supported the patent, he should not hold his place for an hour. “My Lord,” it had been said to him, “has obtained it by his favour, and will maintain it by his power.” Yelverton then turned fiercely upon Buckingham. “Howbeit,” he said, “I dare say if my Lord of Buckingham had but read the articles exhibited in this place against Hugh Spencer, and had known the danger of placing and displacing officers about a king, he would not have pursued me with such bitterness.”[157] At this daring outburst, cries were heard on every side, bidding the speaker to hold his peace. Buckingham, who was always more ready to bear down opposition than to silence it, bade him haughtily to proceed. “He that will seek to stop him,” he said, “is more my enemy than his.” After some interruption, Yelverton was permitted to go on, and concluded by asserting that he was ready to prove all that he had said.
As soon as the prisoner was removed, Buckingham rose again. Yelverton, he said, had objected to the proceedings in the Exchequer, and his objections had been accepted by the King; but he had originally assented to them for the sake of his fee of ten shillings upon each case. As for the charges against himself, he threw himself upon the House; but he must beg their lordships to remember that Mompesson, who was said to have carried the message, was absent, and could not be examined.
<113>After some further conversation, Yelverton was recalled, to be further questioned upon his conduct relating to the patent. As soon as the examination was at an end, Buckingham moved that he might be committed a close prisoner to the Tower, for his reflection upon the King’s honour, in declaring that James had allowed the Royal authority to be usurped by a subject. Against this proposal Southampton protested. He was supported by Saye, who pointed out that the words had been spoken, not against the King, but against Buckingham. The House finally decided upon sending Yelverton back to the Tower, without mentioning the cause of his committal.[158]
The next day a message was brought from the King. He had naturally been provoked by a comparison which implied a parallel Question between the King and the Lords.between himself and Edward II., and by the suggestion that he had inflicted punishment upon Yelverton merely for his refusal to follow Buckingham’s caprices. At Buckingham’s request, he said, he should leave the insult which had been directed against his lordship in the hands of the House; but he should himself take care to vindicate his own honour. Such a message, no doubt, seemed simple enough to James, but there were some among the Lords who replied that the King had no right to take out of their hands the judgment of a fault which they were still engaged in investigating. In spite of the opposition of Buckingham and the Prince, these objections prevailed, and a remonstrance was drawn up to beg the King to allow the House to deal with the whole matter. Before this remonstrance James gave way, and signified his intention of leaving Yelverton entirely to the Peers.[159]
It can hardly admit of a doubt that though many amongst the Lords took an ill-concealed pleasure at this attack upon the favourite, Yelverton’s unguarded speech had put him completely at the mercy of the Court, and it was impossible to vote for his acquittal without entering into a direct conflict with the Crown. Even under these circumstances, a scene occurred which betrayed for a moment the passions <114>smouldering beneath the surface. The notes of Yelverton’s May 8.Debate on Yelverton’s case.attack upon Buckingham were read, and a question was raised whether he should be heard in explanation of his words.[160] Arundel rose to dissuade the House from hearing the prisoner any further. We have his words, he said, and Quarrel between Arundel and Spencer.nothing more is necessary. In itself such a doctrine was not likely to meet with acceptance amongst the opponents of the Court, and it was specially unpalatable as coming from one who, as the representative of the Howards, might well seem to have strayed from his natural position in swelling the ranks of the supporters of the favourite. The feeling of the popular party was felicitously expressed by Spencer. He was surprised, he said, to hear such a doctrine from the Earl of Arundel, for he remembered that two of his ancestors, the Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Surrey, had been unjustly condemned to death without a hearing. Stung by the retort which he had called down upon himself, Arundel sprang to his feet. “My Lords,” he replied, with all the haughty insolence of his nature, “I do acknowledge that my ancestors have suffered, and it may be for doing the King and the country good service, and in such time as when, perhaps, the lord’s ancestors that spake last kept sheep.”[161] An insult so uncalled for was received with a storm of reprobation on all sides. Suffolk attempted to interpose. He was even more nearly related than Arundel to those of whom Spencer had spoken, and he truly said that he thought that he had heard nothing but what was to their honour. The Prince then stepped forward, and demanded the adjournment of the House. For more than a week no further reference was made to the affair, and time was given for the angry passions May 12.Discussion whether Yelverton is to be heard.which had been excited to calm down. In the meanwhile Yelverton’s case, which had been interrupted by Arundel’s unseemly attack upon Spencer, had been brought again before the Lords. On May 12 Buckingham moved that the House should proceed at once to censure him for his insult to the King. Again <115>voices were raised, demanding that he should first be heard in his defence. Bishop Morton attempted to mediate. “The words,” he said, “were scandalous, whatsoever their meaning was. But let us hear what meaning he places on them himself.” Against the suggestion thus made, Arundel rose defiantly. “Sir Henry Yelverton,” he said, “is not judged unheard. He spake the words openly in this House. He had time to explain himself, and his speech we have in writing.” But neither Arundel nor Buckingham was able to carry the House with him on such a question. The Lord Treasurer and the Archbishop of Canterbury joined in protesting against a doctrine that an accused person was not to be heard in his own defence. Dorset, Suffolk, and Southampton followed in their wake. At last, in order to satisfy the exigencies of the King, it was agreed that the words spoken touched the King’s honour as the House did ‘yet conceive.’[162] No final judgment was to be passed on them till the prisoner had been heard.
Accordingly, on the 14th, Yelverton was brought to the bar to answer for himself. Unable to offer any legal proof that Mompesson May 14.Yelverton heard.had not invented the messages which he had brought from Buckingham, he was reduced to explain away his words as best he might. There must have been many present who felt that the spirit of his accusation was true. But there was no evidence before them to show that it was literally true, and the Lords did not venture, perhaps did not wish, to cast upon the King the stigma which would be implied in a dismissal of the charge. Yelverton was accordingly declared to have attacked the honour of the King. With regard to the words spoken against Buckingham, the House was less unanimous. All were willing to declare them to be scandalous; but a minority — we know not how large, nor of whom it was composed — protested against declaring them to be false.[163] May 16.His sentence.The prisoner was then sentenced to pay ten thousand marks to the King, and five thousand to Buckingham; to be imprisoned during pleasure, and to ask pardon for his offence.
On the following day the House proceeded to deal with <116>Arundel, whose indomitable pride was unconquered. To the House, he said, he was ready to apologize. To Lord Spencer he had nothing to say. May 17.Arundel committed to the Tower.He persisted in his refusal, and was sent as a prisoner to the Tower, from which he was only released at the special request of the King, and upon an engagement from the Prince of Wales that he would see a reconciliation effected between the two peers.[164]
By Buckingham the result of the proceedings against Yelverton was regarded in the light of a personal triumph. He was now, he was heard openly to boast, “Parliament-proof.” With that magnificent display of generosity which he knew well how to assume towards a beaten adversary, he at once remitted his share of the fine, and the Prince was requested by the House to express a hope that the King would be equally merciful.[165]
Not only had the favourite succeeded in bringing his own barque into smooth waters, but he had carried his brothers with him into a safe harbour. Charges against Buckingham’s brothers withdrawn.With the abandonment of the inquiry into the patent for alehouses, the charge against Christopher Villiers fell to the ground, and Sir Edward, who had lately returned from his mission to Germany, was allowed to take his seat in the Commons without further molestation, though he prudently declined to avail himself of the permission till the storm had completely blown over.[166]
Seldom has the unfitness of the Lords to act as a judicial body been more clearly brought out than in the treatment <117>which Yelverton received at their hands. No real effort was made to sound to the bottom that evil system of which Yelverton’s hints had Liberty of speech.disclosed the abysses. No attempt was made to define the law which limited the free expression of opinion on the actions of persons in authority. It was enough that Yelverton had uttered or implied a condemnation of the King’s proceedings; and even those who believed that what he said was true, shrank from pronouncing a sentence in his favour.
Yet, in truth, though much may be done by the substitution of trained and independent tribunals for a body composed, like the House of Lords, of men either dependent on the Court, or influenced by their own political feelings, the fault did not lie entirely with the composition of the tribunal by which Yelverton was tried. It is only when the great truth that liberty of speech is a good thing in itself has sunk deeply into the national conscience, that such scenes as those which attended Yelverton’s condemnation become impossible, and unhappily the Peers did not stand alone in their ignorance of this corner-stone of freedom.
During the early years of James’s reign, indeed — except when actual treason was supposed to have been committed — Proclamation against free speech.little had been heard of penalties for words spoken or printed on political subjects. The times were quiet, and there was no general inclination to take part in the quarrel which divided the Crown from the House of Commons. With the attack upon the Palatinate, all this was changed. The nation was resolutely bent upon following one line of policy. The King was no less resolutely bent upon following another. Hard words were spoken everywhere, if not of the King himself, of the King’s ally, the King of Spain; and these words sometimes found their way into print, or into sermons which, in those days, had a real political importance. Dec. 24, 1620.James was sorely irritated. Of the real benefits of freedom of utterance he knew as little as any of his contemporaries. He issued a proclamation[167] <118>forbidding men to speak on State affairs. Scot, the author of the clever pamphlet, Vox Populi, was forced to save himself by flight.[168] Dr. Everard, a London preacher, was summoned before the Council, 1621.January.Cases of Scot, Everard, and Ward.and was committed to the Gatehouse, for inveighing in a sermon against the Spanish cruelties in the Indies.[169] But the case which most justly attracted public attention was that of Dr. Ward, of Ipswich, a man of considerable reputation as a preacher, who possessed the unusual accomplishment of ability to express his thoughts with his pencil as well as with his pen. He had lately put forth his skill as a caricaturist upon a picture which Gondomar had been able to represent as an insult to his master. On one side was to be seen the wreck of the Armada, driven in wild confusion before the storm. On the other side was the detection of the Gunpowder Plot. In the centre the Pope and the Cardinals appeared in consultation with the King of Spain and the Devil.[170] Ward paid for his indiscretion by a short imprisonment, followed by an inhibition from preaching any more at Ipswich. By the people he was regarded as a martyr, and a story was freely circulated, telling how in reality he owed his punishment to the manly stand which he had taken against the election of a Papist as a knight of the shire for the county of Suffolk.[171]
The invariable correlative of restraint upon speech is licentiousness of action. The repression to which James had subjected Insult to Gondomar.the spirit by which Englishmen were almost universally animated, only caused that spirit to burst out in irregular channels. As Gondomar was one day passing down Fenchurch Street, in his litter, a saucy apprentice shouted after him, “There goes the devil in a dungcart.” Stung by the taunt, one of his servants turned sharply upon the offender. “Sir,” he said, “you shall see Bridewell ere long for your <119>mirth.” “What!” was the reply, “shall we go to Bridewell for such a dog as thou?” Suiting his action to his words, the lad raised his fist, and knocked Gondomar’s follower into the gutter. The ambassador appealed to the Lord Mayor for justice, who, April.sorely against his will, sentenced the apprentice, and his companions who had supported him, to be whipped through the streets. That an Englishman should be flogged for insulting a Spaniard was intolerable to the London populace. A crowd soon gathered round the cart, the youths were rescued, and the officials whose duty it was to carry out the sentence were themselves driven away with blows. Gondomar once more complained to the Lord Mayor, but the Lord Mayor, who in heart sympathized with the offenders, drily informed him that it was not to him that an account of the government of the City was to be rendered. James was next appealed to, and at once responded to the appeal. He came down in person to Guildhall. If such things were allowed, he said, he would place a garrison in the City, and seize its charter. The end of the affair was tragical enough. The original sentence was carried out, and one of the apprentices died under the lash.[172]
The feeling of indignation with which James’s one-sided severity was received spread to higher regions. Chafing under April 30.Floyd insults Frederick and Elizabeth.the self-imposed silence which had for many weeks restrained their tongues from even mentioning the name of the Palatinate, the Commons were in a temper to catch eagerly at the first opportunity which offered itself to give vent to the thoughts which were burning within. It was not long in coming. An aged Roman Catholic barrister, named Floyd, who had been imprisoned in the Fleet by the Council, had been guilty, as the House was informed, of the heinous offence of rejoicing at the news of the battle of Prague. “Goodman Palsgrave and Goodwife Palsgrave,” he had been heard to say, “were now turned out of doors.” At another time he had argued that Frederick had no more right <120>than himself to the Bohemian crown. Witnesses were called to prove the truth of the story. Floyd denied that he had ever said anything of the kind. May 1.The next day, though additional witnesses corroborated the statements previously made, Floyd persisted in his denial.
Then followed a scene, the like of which has seldom been exhibited in an English Parliament. Phelips proposed that Exasperation of the Commons.Floyd should ride with his face to the horse’s tail from Westminster to the Tower, bearing on his hat a paper with the inscription, “A popish wretch, that hath maliciously scandalized his Majesty’s children,” and that he should then be lodged in the horrible dungeon appropriately known as Little Ease, ‘with as much pain as he shall be able to endure without loss or danger of his life.’ Terrible as Phelips’s suggestion was, it was not harsh enough for his hearers. All consideration for the rights of free speech, all thought of proportioning the punishment to the offence, was lost in the whirpool of passion. A few words by Roe and Digges, not on behalf of Floyd, but on behalf of the Lords of the Council, who might resent any attempt to meddle with their prisoner, were followed by an immediate explosion. “If we have no precedent,” said Sir George More, “let us make one. Let Floyd be whipped to the place from whence he came, and then let him be left to the Lords.” “Let his beads be hung about his neck,” cried Sir Francis Seymour, “and let him have as many lashes as he has beads.” Sir Edward Giles hoped that he might be pilloried at Westminster, and whipped. Sir Francis Darcy was not content unless he might be twice pilloried, and twice whipped. Each member, as he shouted out his opinion, was more savage than the last. Let a hole be burnt in his tongue. Let his tongue be cut out. Let him be branded on the forehead. Let his nose and ears be lopped off. Let him be compelled to swallow his beads. Another member, with cruel irony, added that he had wished to recommend the heaviest possible punishment, but that, ‘as he perceived that the House was inclined to mercy, he would have him whipped more than twice as far as those who offended against the ambassador.’ At this stage John Finch, the future Lord Keeper of Charles I., <121>attempted to interpose. The House, he said, had no sworn evidence upon which to act. This reasonable suggestion was scouted by Walter, whose conduct on this day is the strongest evidence of the criminal follies into which even an honourable man may fall, in times when the principles upon which freedom and morality rest have not yet been engraved upon the public mind. “Let Floyd’s lands and goods,” he said, “be given to raise a force to recover the Palatinate. Let him be whipped for laughing at the loss of Prague, thereby to make him shed tears.” Alone amongst the popular party, Sandys, the veteran champion of liberty, showed some glimmerings of sense. The real cause of Floyd’s offence, he observed, was the difference in religion. If in his punishment his religion were touched, he would be looked upon as a martyr. Nor was it proper to whip a gentleman. Though this was not much to say, it had its effect. All thought of branding and whipping was relinquished; yet the poor old man, who had committed no real crime, was sentenced by the House to be Sentence upon Floyd.pilloried three times, to ride from station to station on a bare-backed horse with his face to the tail, and a paper on his hat explaining the nature of his offence. Lastly, he was to pay a fine of 1000l.[173]
When the members came down to take their places for the next morning’s sitting, it was with the full expectation that they would be able to May 2.Objections of the King.feast their eyes upon the sufferings of Floyd as they passed through Palace Yard. Nothing of the kind however was to be seen. They were told by the Chancellor of the Exchequer that the King had commanded him to thank them for their care of his honour, and then to ask them two questions. Could they show that they had authority to inflict punishment upon anyone who, not being one of themselves, had neither offended against their House nor against any of its members? And if they could satisfy him on this point, would they inform him how they could condemn a man who denied his fault, without being able to take evidence on oath against him? A record was <122>then handed in, from which it appeared that in the reign of Henry IV. the Commons had acknowledged that they had nothing to do with sentencing offenders.
Now that the excitement had passed off, there were few whose opinion was of any value who did not recognise that Hesitation of the Commons.the assertions implied in the King’s questions were unanswerable. It was certain that over Floyd the Commons had no jurisdiction whatever. In fact, earlier in the session they had, in dealing with Mompesson, expressly renounced the right wdiich they had now intemperately assumed. Noy, whose authority stood high on such questions, after denying the supposed right of the House, moved for a committee to search for precedents. Even this was more than Hakewill was willing to concede. It would, he said, be entirely useless. He had himself searched diligently for such precedents, and he was certain that none were to be found. Coke, who had been absent the day before, and who knew perfectly well what the law was, now interfered. He had no wish to bolster up an indefensible position, but he feared lest, in its recoil from a position which had been found untenable, the House might surrender claims which were fairly its own. The literal sense of the record presented to them would, he showed, debar them from scrutinising even the conduct of their own members. But they were not bound to acknowledge its force. It was no Act of Parliament. “Let his tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth,” he ended by saying, in his magisterial way, “who says that this House is no Court of Record. Though we have not the power of judicature in all things, yet we have it in some things.”[174]
The only question which remained was, how to recede with dignity. It was finally decided that the King should be asked to May 3.Negotiations with the King and the Lords.put the sentence in force by his own authority, but that he should be told at the same time that the Commons did not consider themselves bound by the record which he had produced. Such a solution could not be satisfactory to anyone. In requesting the King to confer by his mere prerogative validity upon an invalid <123>sentence, the Commons were asking him to put forth powers which in another cause they would have been the first to dispute. After some further negotiation, James signified his intention of leaving the matter in the hands of the Lords.
Accordingly the Lords, as a preliminary to their investigation of the matter, proceeded to clear up the question of jurisdiction. May 5.At a conference held on May 5, Coke had much to say on the right of the Commons to punish offences which affected their own House, but had nothing better to say about Floyd’s case than that the words against the Electress ‘were spoken against the members of the House of Commons; for a daughter is part of her father, and the King May 16.The Commons give way.is ever intended to be resident in that House.’ The result of the discussion was the acceptance by both sides of a declaration, which, under cover of leaving the law precisely as it stood before Floyd’s name was mentioned, virtually gave the victory to the Lords.[175]
As far as the poor wretch who was the unwilling subject of the dispute was concerned, it would have been better if he May 26.Floyd sentenced by the Lords.had been left to the tender mercies of the Commons. The Lords, probably to show that they had no kindly feeling towards Papists, raised his fine from 1,000l. to 5,000l., declared him an infamous person, whose testimony was never to be received in any court of justice, ordered him to be imprisoned for life, and to be whipped at the cart’s tail from London Bridge to Westminster Hall.[176] It was no merit of the Peers that the whipping was remitted by the King, at the instance of the Prince of Wales.
Strangely enough this abominable sentence was, at least according to the doctrine which has been ultimately adopted, Doctrine finally adopted on the jurisdiction of the Lords.as unconstitutional as that which had been pronounced by the Commons. The Lower House did not think it consistent with its dignity to prefer a definite charge against Floyd at the bar of the House of Lords, and, ever since that evil day on which, surrounded <124>by a band of armed satellites, a misguided Sovereign attempted to drag the leaders of the Long Parliament to a trial before the Peers, it has passed into a political axiom that, except in matters in which their own members are concerned, the Lords can only exercise criminal jurisdiction upon the presentment of the House of Commons.[177]
This doctrine, indeed, may be supported by arguments far stronger than those which the lawyers of the seventeenth century derived from the analogy between the functions of the House of Commons and the functions of a grand jury; for, by requiring the co-operation of two independent bodies, it went far to lessen the chances of hasty and passionate injustice. However the evil of entrusting judicial functions to a political body might be mitigated, it was none the less distinctly an evil, only to be tolerated because at the beginning of the seventeenth century the remedy would have been worse than the disease. Advisable as it might be that political prosecutions should be conducted before judges and not before the House of Lords, there were no judges in existence to whom the duty of conducting such trials could safely be entrusted. Revocable at the pleasure of the Crown and, since the overthrow of Coke, having the prospect of dismissal ever dangling before their eyes, the majority of the judges could not, as long as human nature is what it is, be impartial in such matters. If it was a bad thing that a court should be guided, like the House of Lords, by its political sympathies, it would have been far worse to trust questions of high political importance to a court warped by self-interest like the King’s Bench or the Common Pleas. Nor were there wanting other reasons to justify, at least for the time, the renewed claim of Parliament to exercise jurisdiction over state offences. The time had come when the nation was beginning to watch with a jealous eye the conduct of the high officers of state. The time had not yet come when a vote of its representatives would be sufficient to remove them from office. It was only by the fear of a criminal charge that they could be in any way controlled, and no tribunal of less authority than Parliament could deal with <125>them at all. It was by giving us at once a body of independent judges, and a House of Commons which was strong enough to control the Executive Government, that the Revolution of 1688 introduced a new state of feeling, which before long virtually put an end to parliamentary impeachments.[178]
The Lords had still two cases to dispose of. With the Bishop of Llandaff they dealt mercifully. It was proved that May 30.Cases of Bishop Fieldhe had taken from Edward Egerton a recognisance for 6,000l. upon a promise to do his best to procure for him the good-will of the Chancellor. But the money had never been paid, and no service had been rendered in return. Such arguments would have availed Floyd but little. A member of the House of Lords was not likely to appeal to the Peers in vain. They contented themselves with handing over the offender to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who promised to admonish him publicly in convocation. He did not, however, take the admonition seriously to heart, for the first thing that he did after the Houses ceased to sit was to implore Buckingham to promote him to a better bishopric.[179]
Sir John Bennett was still to be kept May 31.and of Sir J. Bennett.in suspense. Time would not allow a complete investigation of his case, and he was released on bail, with orders to prepare a reply to the depositions against him.[180]
Whilst the Lords had been mainly occupied with judicial business, the other House had not been idle. Patents for the May.Several patents condemned by the Commons.sole engrossing of wills, for the levying of lighthouse tolls, for the importation of salmon and lobsters, for the making of gold-leaf, and for the manufacture of glass were voted to be grievances. A monopoly bill had been passed by which the decision of the question, whether the protected manufacture was a new invention or not, would from henceforth be left to the ordinary tribunals. There had been long and anxious debates upon the alleged decline of <126>trade, which seems to have been suffering temporarily from the effects of the war in Germany; and many rash and unwise restrictions were proposed in a vain hope that, with their aid, commerce might be restored to a flourishing condition. There had been an attempt also to set on foot an inquiry into the state of Ireland, which had been promptly checked by the King, who held that this was a subject with which he was himself perfectly competent to deal.
On May 28, however, in the very midst of their toils, the Commons were startled by a royal message directing them to May 28.The King directs an adjournment.bring their labours to an end within a week. The gentry, they were told, were wanted in their own neighbourhoods; the lawyers were wanted in Westminster Hall. Yet the House need not fear that their time had been wasted. There should be no prorogation to compel them to recommence their work at their next meeting. There would be a simple adjournment, and they would thus be able to resume their business at the stage at which they had left it.
The House was taken by surprise. There could be little doubt that more was intended than had been said. It may be either that James was nettled at the contemptuous silence with which his demand for a fresh subsidy had been met, and at the pretensions of the Commons in their claim to jurisdiction over Floyd, or that he wished to hinder any renewed legislation upon recusancy. Rumour, too, was busy in bringing to his ear news of the proceedings of the opposition party in the Upper House. Their ill-will against Buckingham, it was told, had not relaxed, and suspicious meetings had been held at Southampton’s house in Holborn, to which members of the House of Commons had been invited. It was even said that a scheme had been concocted for diverting future subsidies from the Exchequer, by sending them over directly to the fugitive King of Bohemia.[181]
<127>In vain the Commons appealed to the Peers to aid them in obtaining a change in the King’s intentions. All that James May 29.Proposal of prorogation.allowed the Lords to say was, that if the Lower House wished to get ready a few bills by the end of the week the King would give his assent to them, an act which, according to the notions of the day, would bring the session to a close, thus involving a prorogation instead of an adjournment.
Such an offer, in truth, was entirely illusory. There was not time to give a thorough discussion to the bills upon which Dissatisfaction of the Commons.the Commons had set their hearts. The statement made by the Lords was received with open discontent. Tongues were loosed which had for four months been placed under strict restraint. “The country,” said Sandys, “is in a dangerous state. Our religion is rooted out of Bohemia and Germany. It will soon be rooted out of France.” Sandys then moved that nothing more should be done that day. Their hearts, he said, were full of grief and fear. Perhaps time might temper their passions. After this Cranfield tried to speak, but the House refused to listen to him, and Sandys’s motion was adopted.
Reflection in this case did not bring a change of mood. The next morning Phelips painted in mournful colours the evil May 30.estate of religion abroad and at home, and urged that one more appeal should be made to the House of Lords. The Lords listened, but could give no hope whatever of inducing the King to prolong their sittings. They would do what they could. They would agree to the passing of an Act declaring that, in this case at least, the royal assent to a few selected bills should not prevent the resumption of business, when they next met, at the stage at which it had been left. But the Commons would not hear of such a compromise. To an offer made by James to close the session after prolonging their sittings for a week or ten days, they were equally deaf. There was no time, they thought, left to do anything worthy of the name of a session. They would prefer the adjournment originally proposed.[182]
<128>Yet the last advances of James towards the Commons had not been wholly thrown away. Their temper had been ruffled, but June 4.The last sitting.only for a moment. They resolved to return thanks to the King for his offer of an additional week.[183] At their last sitting they listened with evident satisfaction to Cranfield’s assurances that the burdens under which trade was suffering should have the immediate attention of the Government.
There were those, however, present who felt that this was not a fitting conclusion to the labours of the House. In the stormy discussions of the past week words had again been heard on that subject which the vast majority of the members had most deeply at heart, but they had not been always spoken wisely. For three months the House had disciplined itself into silence, by its earnest determination to act if possible in unison with the King. Carried away by the feelings of the moment, Sandys and Phelips had let fall expressions by which Gondomar might be led to imagine that England would no longer present a united front to the enemy. A few moments only now remained to wipe away such a conception. Accordingly, whilst there was yet time, Sir John Perrot rose, in the midst of a discussion upon the mode of levying customs at the ports. It was Perrot who, at the commencement of the session, had moved that the Commons should partake of the Communion together ‘as a means of reconciliation,’ and as ‘a touchstone to try their faith.’[184] In a similar spirit he now addressed them. The House he said, had Perrot’s motion.shown itself careful of the ports; but there was something still more necessary, namely, to provide for that port which would be the surest resting-place, and which would procure for them a perpetual rest when the merchandise, trade, and traffic of this life would have an end. True religion must be maintained. Abroad it was in sad case. At home it was in danger. At the beginning of the Parliament the King had declared that if the Palatinate could not be recovered by treaty, he would adventure his blood and life in its cause. Let them therefore, before they separated, make a public declaration that, <129>if the treaty failed, they would upon their return be ready to adventure their lives and estates for the maintenance of the cause of God and of his Majesty’s royal issue.
When Perrot sat down it was evident that he had touched the right chord in the hearts of his hearers. “This declaration,” said Cecil, “comes from Heaven. It is received with acclamation.It will do more for us than if we had ten thousand soldiers on the march.” The motion was put and assented to amidst universal acclamation. “It was entertained,” says one who took part in the scene,[185] “with much joy and a general consent of the whole House, and sounded forth with the voices of them all, withal lifting up their hats in their hands as high as they could hold them, as a visible testimony of their unanimous consent, in such sort that the like had scarce ever been seen in Parliament.”[186]
A committee was at once appointed to prepare the declaration. In a few minutes its work was done. “The Commons assembled in Parliament,” so The Commons’ declaration.ran the manifesto, “taking into consideration the present estate of the King’s children abroad, and the general afflicted estate of the true professors of the same Christian religion professed by the Church of England and other foreign parts; and being troubled with a true sense and fellow-feeling of their distresses as members of the same body, do, with one unanimous consent of themselves and of the whole body of the kingdom whom they do represent, declare unto the whole world their hearty grief and sorrow for the same; and do not only join with them in their humble and devout prayers to Almighty God to protect his true Church, and to avert the dangers now threatened, but also with one heart and voice do solemnly protest that, if his Majesty’s pious endeavours by treaty to procure their peace and safety shall not take that good effect he desireth, in the treaty whereof they humbly beseech his Majesty to make no long delay;— that then, upon the signification of his pleasure in Parliament, they shall be ready, to the uttermost of their powers, both with their lives and fortunes, to assist him; so <130>as, by the Divine help of Almighty God, who is never wanting unto those who, in His fear, shall undertake the defence of His own cause, he may be able to do that by his sword which by peaceable courses shall not be effected.”
Again, when the declaration had been read, the hats were waved high in the air. Again the shouts of acclamation rang out cheerily. Adjournment of the House.Perrot had been just in time. The messengers from the Lords were at the door to notify the King’s order to adjourn to November 14. The Commons answered that, according to custom, they would adjourn themselves. Before the motion was put, Coke stood up, and with tears in his eyes, repeated the prayer for the Royal Family, adding, as he finished it, “and defend them from their cruel enemies.”
For a time the work of the House of Commons was at an end. Complaints had been heard that the long months of labour Review of the first part of the session.had produced nothing with which the constituencies could be reasonably satisfied. With the exception of the Act by which the subsidies had been granted, not a single Bill had been passed. So far as legislation was concerned, monopolists were as safe as ever. The claims of the prerogative were as undefined as at the commencement of the session. Yet the Houses had not sat in vain. They had rescued from oblivion the right of impeachment, and had taught a crowd of hungry and unscrupulous adventurers that Court favour would not always suffice to screen them. They had made judicial corruption almost impossible for the future. Yet the highest of their achievements had not been of a nature to be quoted as a precedent, or to be noted down amongst the catalogue of constitutional changes. Far more truly than any member of that House dreamed, a crisis had come in which Protestantism was to be tried in the balance. There was a danger greater than any which was to be dreaded from the armies of Spinola or the policy of Maximilian,— a danger lest moral superiority should pass over to the champions of the reactionary faith. And it was at such a crisis that the English House of Commons placed itself in the foremost ranks of those who were helping on the progress <131>of the world. Cecil spoke truly when he said that their declaration would do more good than if ten thousand soldiers had been on the march. It showed that James and Frederick and John George were not the utmost that Protestantism could produce; that it had given birth to men who might be ignorant of much, but who were steeled with the armour of self-denial and self-restraint, and who were willing to sacrifice themselves for the common cause. It was of no political advantage to England that they were dreaming. They formed no schemes of national aggrandisement like Richelieu, they cherished no personal ambition like Gustavus. They thought of the poor inhabitants of the Palatinate, of the Bohemian churches empty or profaned, of the silenced voices of the ministers of the Gospel; and, though they never more than half-trusted James, they had the penetration to recognise the fact that it was only under James’s leadership that they could help in averting the catastrophe. Therefore, they disciplined themselves into silence, and restrained their zeal, lest by a moment’s ill-considered speech, they should alienate the man who alone was in a position to give effect to their wishes. They had done more than gain a victory. They had ruled their own spirits.
When James first heard that a declaration on the affairs of the Palatinate had been voted, he was much displeased; but as soon as he read it, his opinion changed. He ordered it to be translated into the chief languages of Europe, in order that foreign nations might learn to respect the loyalty of the English people.[187]
James was, no doubt, glad enough to regain his independence of action. No candid person will complain of his determination to Bacon’s imprisonment and release.moderate the harshness of Bacon’s sentence. He probably thought, as everyone else thought, that his late Chancellor was far more guilty than he really was; but the memory of old friendship and of years of devoted service indisposed him to harshness. For some days after the sentence was pronounced, Bacon was allowed to remain unmolested at York House, out of consideration for his <132>health.[188] But before the Parliament broke up, he was conducted to the Tower.[189] It was never, however, intended that he should remain long a prisoner. A warrant for his release was sent to him, with an intimation that he would do well not to use it till June 2.after the Houses had risen. So great, however, was his impatience that he could not wait, and came away at once, before the last sitting had taken place. Sir John Vaughan’s house at Parson’s Green was assigned him as a temporary residence. As, however, the place was within twelve miles of the Court, he could not be permitted to remain there long. A little breathing-time was granted him to settle his affairs; but on June 22, June 22.he was obliged, much against his will, to betake himself to Gorhambury.
Any other man would have been crushed by the blow by which Bacon had been surprised, and would have resigned himself, at least for a time, to lethargy. His History of Henry VII.Bacon only saw in his exclusion from political life an additional reason for throwing himself heart and soul into other work. In less than five months after his liberation he had completed that noble history of the reign of Henry VII. which stands confessedly amongst the choicest first-fruits of the long harvest of English historical literature.[190]
Two days before Bacon’s removal to Gorhambury, the sentence of the House of Lords upon an offender of a very different kind Degradation of Michell.was carried out. Sir Francis Michell was in due form degraded from knighthood. The spurs were hacked from his heels, the sword was broken over his head, and the heralds proclaimed to the applauding bystanders, that from henceforth he would be known as “Francis Michell, Knave.” He was conducted back, amidst the <133>hootings of the mob, to Finsbury Gaol, from which, about a fortnight later, he was contemptuously set at liberty.[191] Not long afterwards, Mompesson’s fine was granted to trustees, for the use of his wife and child.[192]
Against this lenity to men for whose faults the Government was more than half responsible, there would have been little to be said, if it had not been June 16.Arrest of Southampton, Sandys, and Selden.sharply contrasted with harshness exercised in another direction. James had been deeply annoyed at the consultations which had been held between Southampton and certain members of the Lower House, with the object, it was said, of opening direct negotiations with Frederick and Elizabeth. On June 16, Southampton, as he rose from the council-board, was ordered into confinement. On the same day, Sandys and Selden were arrested, the latter, though not a member of Parliament, having, it is said, given offence by an opinion delivered in support of the jurisdiction of the Commons over Floyd.
Anything more impolitic it is impossible to conceive. At once a belief in the unreality of the apparent concord between the Crown and the Lower House began to spread. A story was eagerly repeated that, when the searchers applied to Lady Sandys for Sir Edwin’s keys, she had answered that she wished his Majesty had a key to her husband’s heart, as he would then see that there was nothing there but loyalty. It was to no purpose that the world was carefully informed that the prisoners were not called in question for anything done in Parliament. Men shrugged their shoulders incredulously. The wildest rumours flew about. Coke, it was said, had been sent for. The Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Lichfield had been imprisoned. July 13.Imprisonment of Oxford.It was not long before another nobleman shared in reality Southampton’s fate. A year before, the Earl of Oxford had surprised all who knew him by leaving those dissipations in which his <134>youth had been passed, for the sake of hard service under Vere in the Palatinate. But he did not remain long upon the Continent. In company with the more demure Essex, he hurried back, as soon as the summer was over, to take his place in the House of Lords, and he now thought himself justified by the very moderate amount of hardship which he had undergone, in grumbling about the thankless reception which had been accorded to his services. One day he inveighed over his wine against Popery and the Spanish match, and his words being reported to the King, he was placed under arrest.[193] James was sufficiently vexed to issue a fresh proclamation ‘against excess of lavish and licentious speech of matters of state.’[194]
Fortunately for James there was one amongst those to whom he willingly listened, who was able to warn him against the consequences of Williams, Lord Keepersuch blunders as these. Since he had warded off a breach with the Commons, Williams had found the King’s ear open to him on all occasions. His first thought had been to claim his own reward. The see of London was vacant, and he lost no time in asking for it.[195] Before his pretensions could be satisfied, a still more brilliant prospect opened itself before him. It was necessary to provide a successor to Bacon. Ley and Hobart had been pointed out by rumour as competitors for the office, but it was soon understood that the King’s choice would rest upon Cranfield. Before, however, the selection had finally been made, it happened that Williams, who had learned many secrets as Ellesmere’s chaplain, was consulted on a point of detail relating to the profits of the place, and that James was so struck with the ability of his reply, and with his thorough knowledge of the subject, that he at once declared that he would entrust the Great Seal to no one else.[196]
<135>It is true that Williams was a clergyman only in name, and that he was not likely to be tainted with those faults by which so many ecclesiastical politicians have been ruined. Yet any sovereign who in our days should be guilty of such a choice, would justly be regarded as insane. For the last two centuries the equity administered in the Court of Chancery has been growing up into a body of scientific jurisprudence, which can only be grasped by those who have received a special legal training. It was far otherwise at the commencement of the seventeenth century. It was the business of Chancery to supply a correction to the highly artificial rules of the Common Law, and until the time came for the growth of a better and more coherent system, it was sufficient that the Chancellor should be possessed of a mind large enough to grasp the general principles of justice, and quick enough to apply those principles to the case before him. He would bear, in fact, very much the same relation to the other judges which is in our day borne by a Secretary of State to the permanent officials of his department. Such a man, when he is first appointed, knows less of the details of business than his subordinates; but he brings to its transaction a mind less trammelled by routine, and therefore more open to the admission of new and enlarged conceptions.
As might have been expected, many objections were raised against the King’s choice. “I had thought,” said Bacon, with a sneer, “that and Bishop of Lincoln.I should have known my successor.” Yet it does not appear that anyone complained of Williams’s ignorance of law. Some said that he was too young; and that it was unfair to others ‘that so mean a man as a dean should so suddenly leap over their heads.’ To remedy the last complaint as far as it was possible, James announced his intention to translate Bishop Montaigne to the see of London, and to give to Williams the bishopric of Lincoln, which would be vacated by Montaigne. The Great Seal should not be placed in his hands till after the congé d’élire had been issued.[197]
On July 16, the new Bishop received the seal by the title <136>of Lord Keeper. He had far too much tact not to be anxious that his promotion should be as unostentatious as possible. At his own request it was given out that he was appointed on probation, and that some of the common-law judges would take their seats with him on the bench as his assistants.[198]
Williams’s next step was to apply himself diligently to the study of law. Every day he shut himself up for hours with Serjeant Finch, in the hope of making himself fit for the duties of his office before Michaelmas term began.
In addition to the bishopric of Lincoln, he was allowed to retain in commendam the deanery of Westminster and his other ecclesiastical appointments. How far was he fit for his post?It was to them that he must look for the means to maintain the state of his office. The legitimate income of his post did not exceed 3,000l. a-year, and he would not be allowed to eke out this revenue from those questionable sources which had supplied his predecessor. There must be no more taking of gratuities under any pretence whatever. “All my lawyers,” said James, with pardonable exaggeration, “are so bred and nursed in corruption that they cannot leave it.”[199] Williams was the very man to effect the necessary change. If his ideal of purity was lower than Bacon’s, in practical shrewdness he was far his superior. He was never for a moment in doubt of that of which Bacon was certain to be ignorant,— the precise light in which any action was likely to be regarded by ordinary men, and he shunned everything approaching to corruption like the plague.
As an adviser in domestic affairs Williams was likely to prove useful to the King. At a time when united action between James and his people seemed once again to be possible, it was of no light moment that he should have some one at his ear who was not overburthened with plans and conceptions of his own, but who was quick to detect the changes of popular feeling, and who looked rather at what was practicable than at what was theoretically in agreement with a certain set <137> of maxims. Williams was now the first to discern the impolicy of imprisoning such men as Sandys and Southampton. He lost no time in whispering his apprehensions into Buckingham’s ear, and he did not whisper in vain. Nothing tickled the favourite’s vanity so delicately as the display of a public forgiveness of his enemies. On the morning of July 16, he General liberation of prisoners.hurried up from Theobalds, and visited all who for one reason or another were supposed to lie under his mortal displeasure. Within a few days the prison doors were flying open on every side. Southampton, Oxford, Sandys, Selden, Yelverton, and Floyd regained their liberty. Nor was the boon confined to those whose offences were still recent. Northumberland, after fifteen years’ detention, was allowed once more to breathe the fresh air amongst the woods of Petworth. Naunton, too, was released from the confinement in which he had remained ever since the rash words which he had spoken in January; and even Captain North, whose voyage to the Amazon had given such offence to Gondomar, recovered his liberty at the same time.[200]
On another point Williams’s remonstrances were less successful. Arundel’s services in the House of Lords could Arundel Earl Marshal.hardly be forgotten. Amongst the old nobility he alone had taken up Buckingham’s cause with warmth. On July 15 the Earl Marshal’s staff was placed in his hands. It was not long before two patents, one confirming him in his office, the other assigning him a pension of 2,000l. a-year, were brought to Williams to be sealed. To the latter, remembering the penury of the Exchequer, the Lord Keeper gave an unwilling assent. To the former he entertained the strongest possible objection. By the wording of the patent powers over all cases in which rank and honour were concerned were conveyed, as it would seem, with studied vagueness; and of all men living, Arundel, with his passionate haughtiness, was the least fit to be trusted with authority of such a nature. Williams, however, uttered his remonstrances in vain, and Arundel was formally authorised to <138>repeat before meaner audiences those outbursts of insolence which even in the presence of his peers he had not been able to restrain.[201]
About this time accident brought Williams in contact with a man who was hereafter to prove his bitter enemy. Little had been Laud made Bishop of St. Davids.heard of Laud since his injudicious proceedings at Gloucester. He had accompanied the King to Scotland, and is said to have given offence by the pertinacity with which he urged James to reduce the Church of Scotland to a complete conformity with her English sister. It is, however, not improbable that this story was invented at a later date. But whatever the truth may have been, if there was any estrangement between the Dean of Gloucester and the King, it quickly passed away. On June 3, the day before the adjournment of Parliament, James was heard speaking graciously to him. “I have given you,” he said, “nothing but Gloucester. I know well that it is a shell without a kernel.” At Court it was understood that he was to succeed Williams in the deanery of Westminster. According to a story which afterwards found credence, Williams, bringing Buckingham to his aid, entreated earnestly that Laud might have the bishopric of St. David’s instead. It has, with great probability, been suspected[202] that Williams was actuated by the simple desire to keep the deanery for himself. At all events, his recommendation of Laud is said to have met with an unexpected obstacle in James, who objected to the harsh and impracticable nature of the man. At length the King yielded to the pressure put upon him. “Take him to you,” he said, “but on my soul you will repent it.” If the whole story is anything more than a pure invention, it may be that James, though he saw Laud’s fitness for presiding over the public services of such a church as Westminster, and appreciated to the full his learning, his devotion to the throne, and his hatred of Puritanism, was yet well aware that he was <139>singularly unfitted by nature for an office which, like that of a bishop, demanded no ordinary temper and discretion.[203]
Before the new Bishops were consecrated, an accident occurred which caused for some time a postponement of the ceremony. July 24.Abbot’s accidental homicide.It happened that the Archbishop had gone down to Lord Zouch’s estate at Bramshill, to consecrate a chapel. In the morning he was taken out to amuse himself by shooting with a bow at the deer. Unfortunately, the deer at which he was aiming leapt up, and the arrow, missing its mark, struck a keeper who was passing along a sunken path out of the Archbishop’s sight. In half an hour the man was dead.
Not a shadow of blame was to be imputed to Abbot. “No one but a fool or a knave,” said James, as soon as he heard of the accident, “would think the worse of him. It might be any man’s case.”[204] The manner in which Williams received the news was no less characteristic of the man. About the moral nature of the action he did not trouble himself for a moment. But he thought much of what people would say about it. By the common law, he told Buckingham, the Archbishop had forfeited his estate to the Crown. By the canon law he had committed an irregularity, and was suspended from all ecclesiastical functions. It was difficult to say what was to be done. If the King were harsh, the Papists were certain to find fault. If the King were lenient, the Papists would find fault with that, too.[205] Williams, at all events, took care that no stain of irregularity should rest upon himself. He would not, he said, be consecrated by a man whose hands were dipped in blood;[206] and his objection was shared by Laud, who bore no good-will to the Archbishop.[207]
<140>The scruples of the two deans were respected, and Abbot was not allowed to take part Pardon of the Archbishop.in their consecration. The Archbishop’s case was referred to a royal commission, and by its recommendation a special release from all irregularity was issued under the Great Seal.[208]
Whilst Williams was thus engaged, upon the whole, in assuaging enmities and in counselling moderation, Cranfield was July 9.Cranfield raised to the peerage.rising no less rapidly into favour. It is not likely that he felt any great disappointment at the preference which had been shown to Williams. No one knew better than himself that the Court of Chancery was not the sphere in which he was best qualified to shine. It was as a financier that he had risen, and it was as a financier that he must retain his grasp upon power.
James took care to let him feel that it was not from ill-will that he had passed him by. On the day before the Great Seal was placed in the hands of Williams, the man who, not many years before, had been a mere city apprentice, was enrolled, by the title of Baron Cranfield, among the peers of England. It was not the first time that men of comparatively humble origin had won their way to that high place by sheer force of ability. But Cranfield was the first whose elevation can in any way be connected with success in obtaining the confidence of the House of Commons. In the earlier part of the session, he had placed himself at the head of the movement against the patents, and he had lost no opportunity of bringing the policy of the Crown into unison with that of the Lower House. In the last stormy debates before the adjournment he had done more than anyone to allay the existing irritation, by the readiness with which he assured the House that all their wishes with regard to trade would be carried out by the Government during the recess.
Accordingly, on July 10, the long deliberations of the Council were followed by a proclamation which swept away at a blow no less than July 10.Proclamation against monopolies.eighteen monoplies and grants of a similar nature. A list of seventeen was added, against which anyone who felt aggrieved was at liberty to appeal to a court of law. Other popular declarations <141>followed. Informers were no longer to be tolerated. Excessive fees were not to be taken in the Courts. Certain restrictions placed upon trade by the merchant adventurers were to be abolished. On the other hand, the exportation of wool was to be prohibited, and that of the noted iron ordnance of England was to be fenced about with additional precautions. As far as trade and manufactures were concerned, James was content to walk in the track which had been marked out by Parliament.
[148] Lords’ Journals, iii. 89, 95, 108.
[149] Proceedings and Debates, i. 233, 241, 256, 279, 297; Lords’ Journals, iii. 87.
[150] This was probably a reflection from his own mind of Bacon’s belief that he was attacked factiously. Bacon had not yet acknowledged his faults.
[151] Proceedings and Debates, i. 285.
[152] Ibid. i. 274. There is a copy of the Bill amongst the MSS. of the House of Lords.
[153] Proceedings and Debates, i. 297; Commons’ Journals, i. 586.
[154] Proceedings and Debates, i. 308, ii. 52.
[155] Lords’ Journals, iii. 77.
[156] Lords’ Journals, iii. 81. Salvetti’s News-Letter, April 27⁄May 7.
[157] Lords’ Journals, iii. 121.
[158] Elsing’s Notes, 42.
[159] Lords’ Journals, iii. 104, 114.
[160] Lords’ Journals, iii. 111, 115; Elsing’s Notes, 71.
[161] Words spoken in the House, May 8, S. P. Dom. cxxi. 15.
[162] Elsing’s Notes, 77.
[163] Elsing’s Notes, 79.
[164] Chamberlain to Carleton, May 19, June 9, S. P. Dom. cxxi. 44, 88. Salvetti’s News-Letter, May 18⁄28. It is worth while to compare this story, as told at the time, with that which has been adopted by subsequent writers from Wilson’s history. Wilson makes Spencer follow Arundel with an imaginary speech, “When my ancestors were keeping sheep, yours were plotting treason,” omitting all reference to Spencer’s real words. Both the letter and the spirit of the narrative are thus entirely sacrificed.
[165] Lords’ Journals, iii. 123, 124. Chamberlain to Carleton, May 19, S. P. Dom. cxxi. 44.
[166] Lords’ Journals, iii. 76; Proceedings and Debates, ii. 3.
[167] Proclamation, Dec. 24, 1620, S. P. Dom. clxxxvii. 87.
[168] Chamberlain to Carleton, Feb. 3. Locke to Carleton, Feb. 16, S. P. Dom. cxix. 64, 99.
[169] Mead to Stuteville, March 10, Harl. MSS. 389, fol. 37.
[170] Description of Ward’s Picture, Harl. MSS. 389, fol. 13.
[171] Mead to Stuteville, Feb. 24, ibid. 389, fol. 21. Petition of Ward, May 31, S. P. Dom. cxxx. 127.
[172] Meddus to Mead, April 6; Mead to Stuteville, April 7, Harl. MSS. 389, fol. 50, 48; Council Register, April 2.
[173] Commons’ Journals, i. 601; Proceedings and Debates, i. 370.
[174] Commons' Journals, i. 603; Proceedings and Debates, ii. 5, 13.
[175] Commons’ Journals, i. 604, 608; Lords’ Journals, iii. 119, 124; Proceedings and Debates, ii. 15, 19, 29.
[176] Lords’ Journals, iii. 134.
[177] Hale’s Jurisdiction of the Lords, 95. See, for Floyd’s case, Hargrave’s preface to this work, xvi.
[178] The case of Warren Hastings was an exception, as a question of Indian, not of English government.
[179] Field to Buckingham, June (?), Harl. MSS. 7,000, fol. 57.
[180] Lords’ Journals, iii. 143, 148.
[181] Compare the examinations in the Appendix to Proceedings and Debates, with a letter by Ashley to Buckingham, May 12, Cabala, 2. How anyone, in the face of this letter, can maintain that Buckingham had taken part, except from timidity, in the overthrow of Bacon, I am unable to understand.
[182] Proceedings and Debates, ii. 118, 159; Lords’ Journals, iii. 140, 148, 153.
[183] Proceedings and Debates, ii. 161.
[184] Commons’ Journals, i. 508.
[185] Edward Nicholas.
[186] Proceedings and Debates, ii. 170.
[187] Chamberlain to Carleton, June 9, S. P. Dom. cxxi. 88.
[188] On May 12 Southampton reminded the Lords that Bacon had not yet been sent to the Tower, and ‘hoped that the world may not think our sentence is in vain;’ Buckingham replied that ‘the King hath respited his going to the Tower in this time of his great sickness.’ — Elsing’s Notes, 79.
[189] Chamberlain to Carleton, June 2, S. P. Dom. cxxi. 69.
[190] Chamberlain to Carleton, June 9, ibid. cxxi. 88. Bacon to Buckingham, May 31, June 5, 22, Letters and Life, vii. 280, 282, 292. Bacon to the Prince of Wales, June 7, ibid. vii. 287.
[191] Chamberlain to Carleton, June 23, S. P. Dom. cxxi. 120. Meddus to Mead, June 22, Harl. MSS. 389, fol. 96. Michell’s petition, June 30, S. P. Dom., cxxi. 135.
[192] Grant to St. John and Hungerford, July 7, Sign Manuals, xii. 71.
[193] Examinations. App. to Proceedings and Debates. Meddus to Mead, June 22. Mead to Stuteville, June 23, Harl. MSS. 389, fol. 96, 98. Chamberlain to Carleton, June 23, July 14, S. P. Dom. cxxi. 121; cxxii. 23.
[194] Proclamation, July 26, S. P. Dom. clxxxvii. 95.
[195] Williams to Buckingham, April (?), Cabala, 374.
[196] Hacket’s Life of Williams, 52.
[197] Chamberlain to Carleton, June 23, S. P. Dom. cxxi. 121.
[198] Williams to Buckingham, July 27, Cabala, 260.
[199] Chamberlain to Carleton, June 23, S. P. Dom. cxxi. 121.
[200] Chamberlain to Carleton, July 21, Aug. 4, S. P. Dom. cxxii. 31, 60.
[201] Williams to Buckingham, Sept. 1, Cabala, 261. Grant of Office, Aug. 29. Grant of Pension, Aug. 30. Patent Rolls, 19 Jac. I. Parts 13 and 1. Locke to Carleton, Sept. 22, Sept. 29, S. P. Dom. cxxii. 140, 152.
[202] By Dr. Bliss, in his notes to Laud’s Diary.
[203] Hacket, 63. Some of the particulars of the story are in direct contradiction with Laud’s Diary (Works, iii. 136); and Hacket, even when uncontradicted, is seldom to be fully trusted. But James’s part in the conversation is characteristic, and the story, as I have given it above, may perhaps be hypothetically admitted.
[204] Lord Zouch to Sir Edward Zouch, July 24. Digges to Carleton, July 28, S. P. Dom. cxxii. 37, 47.
[205] Williams to Buckingham, July 27, Cabala, 260.
[206] Mead to Stuteville, Sept. 19, Harl. MSS. 389, fol. 118.
[207] Chesterman to Conway, Aug. 28, S. P. Dom. cxxii. 94.
[208] Hacket, 68.