9 ■;"» Birn-ER & Takher, The Selwood Printing Work^ Fbome, and London. PREFACE. In the following pages I have once more tendered my mite of industry towards the tardy restoration-fund of historical research ; this time in the further hope of proving that original matter is not necessarily uninteresting, but that the Romance of Society, as read in the infallible records of the past, possesses attractions greater and more lasting than a many conceptions of impossible humanity. In these Essays descriptive of social life during the second half of the i6th century, I have attempted to place before the reader some familiar names in new characters, with the aid of a mass of information, desultory I must confess, but perhaps curious, as it is certainly new. The " star " of this historical company is none other than that lord of Littlecote whose evil fame has descended to us from a barely contemporary gossip, and is now best known through the exquisitely pathetic ballad of "The Friar of Orders Grey," in Rokeby, together with Burke's version of the same legend. In these pages Wild Darrell will appear in two parts, those of the Landlord and the Courtier, while his name or fortunes will be found more or less connected with several other characters of the period. Dr. Richard Cox, Elizabeth's Bishop of Ely, will speak for the state of the Anglican Church, with Latimer as prologue. iv Preface. Master Edward Baeshe, the veteran Surveyor of Navy Victuals, is the type of the honest Official, to whom a foil will be presented in the person of one Uriah Babington and his more aristocratic accomplices in the great Irish Army contract frauds between 1598 and 1606. Sir John Popham is the 'Ls.'wyer par excellence for ^& period between the declining years of Plowden and the rising stars of Coke and Bacon ; while none but Sir Thomas Gresham could decently be installed in the character of the Mer- ' chant. The part of the Burgess has brought to light a promising debutant in the person of a young London grocer, George Stoddard by name, who will, I venture to predict; take no mean place amongst our stock Elizabethan worthies. The Host has scarcely a " speaking part," but will be represented for the nonce by him of the " Tabred " inn in Sduthwark, supported during the later acts by the worthy landlord of the " Gastill " inn, without Smithfield bars. The prototype of the Steward will be found in the person who acted in the like capacity in attendance upon William Darrell, both at Littlecote Hall in the county of Wilts, and Warwick Lane, nigh unto Paternoster Row in the City of London. The impersonation of the Tenant is so multifarious (by reason of the traditionally insecure tenure of the rdle) that it has been found impossible to engage any prominent candidate for the public favour, for which reason the part has been discreetly resolved into a chorus of Tudor agriculturists. It only remains for me to admit frankly that I have fol- lowed my personal inclinations in the historical colouring of fa my materials. I may claim, however, the just credit of haviijg redeemed the character of Wild Darrell from the most part of the odium which has unwittingly attached to it. He is here in fact (to pursue my metaphor) the hero rather Preface, v than as the villain of the piece. So, too, Edward Baeshe has received here for the first time the due recognition of the important services which he rendered to his country. On the other hand, I have often felt myself constrained to represent our countrymen of the Elizabethan era in the more un- favourable aspects of their social life. If I should have herein unconsciously offended the courteous reader by my unguarded views on certain momentous questions, let him reflect that even an historian has acquired by long usage the right to his individual opinion, one indeed to be wisely tolerated as a necessary introduction to the original materials which, after all, it is his chief business to prepare for the use of others. Now I have unearthed these gems ; I have cut, polished, and set them as I was best able ; if you do not admire the handiwork, I pray you, value the purity of the stones. London. Sepu 20th, 1886, CONTENTS. PART I.— IN THE COUNTRY. PAGE Chapter I.— The Landlord 3 Chapter II.— The Steward 17 Chapter III.— The Tenant 26 PART 11.— IN TOWN. Chapter : IV.— The Burgess 45 Chapter V. — The Merchant 58 Chapter VI. — The Host 72 PART III.— AT THE COURT. Chapter VII.— The Courtier 89 Chapter VIIL— The Churchman 103 Chapter IX.— The Official 119 Chapter X.— The Lawyer 133 Appendix I.— Notes and References to Chapters L-X. 147 Appendix 11.— The Darrell Papers 183 Index 279 PART I. IN THE COUNTRY. CHAPTER I. THE LANDLORD. On the 26th of August, 1549, there was a death at Littlecote, the seat of the ancient family of the Darrells of Wiltshire. Sir Edward Darrell, last but one of his line, had passed to his fathers, and was buried with the pomp of torches, wax lights, and bearers, and all the rites of the Anglo-Catholic Church, amidst the lamentations of the parish poor, for whom he had provided mourning, of his retainers, to whom he had be- queathed legacies, and of his neighbours, whose loans were unexpectedly repaid by direction of his will. There were, however, some circumstances connected with the event that were not as they should have been. During the last few years there had been a sad scandal at Littlecote. Its dame had quarrelled with her lord, and, more strangely, with her own relations as well. The cause of this breach may perhaps be found in the presence in the Littlecote household of a young gentleman, a distant kinsman of the family, who married Sir Edward's lady as soon as she was freed by his death. However that may be, she was separated from her husband, who ignored her in his will, and disinherited her son in so far as he was able. When Sir Edward died there was a new mistress at Littlecote, who obtained the adminis- tration of his estate, and who styled herself his widow, though the law recognised only the cast-off wife as his dowager. To the former, however, he devised a great part of his estates by his will, having previously conveyed another portion in trust to her use for her life. By his wife, Elizabeth Essex, Sir Edward Darrell had two children, a son and heir, William, and a daughter. A short 4 Elizabethan Society. time either before or after his death, however, another son was borji to him; but who was his mother there is no evidence to show. He is not once alluded to in the con- temporary history of the family ; and though he was returned by inquisition as his brother's heir, the fact is no proof of his legitimacy, nor did he ever lay claim to the family estates. It is possible, then, that this second son may have been the issue of an illicit attachment with the mysterious woman who supplanted Sir Edward Darrell's lawful wife and heir. At least it was afterwards asserted in the course of litigation that the absolute enjoyment of the estates assured to this lady was conditional on her not marrying during her benefactor's life ; and that immediately after his death, she married first one husband and then another. William Darrell was left at his father's death, a child of nine years old, in a situation of exceptional difficulty. His boyhood, passed during the worst years of the Reformation, could scarcely have been a bright or peaceful one, apart from the consideration of those domestic complications which have been already alluded to. Sir Edward Darrell had left behind him real property of very considerable value for those times, and a personal property which had been nearly wholly absorbed in the payment of his funeral and testamentary expenses ; but it would not appear that he intended his eldest son to benefit greatly by either the one or the other. Of the twenty-four manors of which, at the lowest computa- tion, he died possessed, sixteen, at least, were subject to the life interest of other members of his family by his own act ; while two or three more were encumbered for long terms of years. Moreover, it is certain that this disposition was not made from purely prudential motives, in view of the hazards attending a long minority in troubled times. Thirty years later William Darrell was still paying over to the woman whose moral claim was at the best doubtful, a heavy rent-charge upon the estates which were his birthright. Thanks to Magna Carta, aijd to her own official connections, Sir Edward's widow was secure of her reasonable dower ; but it is at least remarkable that her husband, with every oppor- The Landlord. 5 tunity of arranging his affairs, should have made no better provision for a wife who, if we accept the traditional gene- alogy, was about to become the mother of his youngest child. No sooner was Sir Edward Darrell gone than the friends whom he had loaded with benefits, and the enemies whom he had kept at bay, sunk their differences with the common object of plundering his heir. First the tenants of Chilton Folyat, a manor purchased by his grandfather from the Crown at its full value, developed symptoms of conscience as to the lawfulness of paying their rent any longer to a lord who had no power of compulsion at hand. This course they pursued at the instigation of the Earl of Rutland, a neigh- bouring magnate, who extemporized an ancient claim to the property in question without a tittle of evidence to make it good. But his lordship exerted all his court influence, and, taking the law into his own hands, broke into Chilton Park with an armed band of retainers, and encamped upon the disputed territory. A collision ensued, and the young heir prosecuted some of the parties at the next quarter-sessions for trespass and assault. The Chilton tenants, becoming bolder, pressed for their rents to be returned to them. Finally the case resolved itself into a lingering suit in Chancery, the result of which could have been never once in doubt. Throughout the whole period of William Darrell's minority, he was an exile from the home of his ancestors. Here the spurious Lady Darrell reigned supreme, for her rival had married a young husband, and had gone to reside in another county. She had received the rents and enjoyed the profits of many a fair manor unmolested, and had gathered a pretty strong faction in the neighbourhood, besides covering her retreat by allying herself with a gentleman of good position without dispensing, on this occasion at least, with the cere- monies of the Church. But as soon as the young heir of Littlecote had attained his majority, he Instituted a suit to recover more than his nominal ownership of the home manors, basing his claim upon the following grounds : That, in the first place, he was the lawful heir ; and, secondly, that the demise made by his. father for the lady's benefit only ex- 6 Elizabethan Society. tended over the period of his minority. Hereupon the de- fendant sought to prove that by an early deed these manors were demised to her for her life ; and that upon her subse- quent marriage, after her benefactor's decease, the guardian of his heir attempted to dispossess her, but, after long strife, failing to do so, he gave way, " to ease his conscience," and admitted the justice of her cause. The reply on the part of William Darrell to this explanation was clear and decisive as regarded the home manors, the real point at issue. He pro- duced a deed dated three years later than that under which the . defendant claimed, whereby the property in dispute was conveyed to his guardian in trust for the lady during the heir's minority only. This trust was, he showed, merely fulfilled by his guardian. Why then, it was asked, did Sir Edward alter his disposition of those estates, or why did his mistress consent to benefit by that disposition, if she could have claimed a life-interest undeir an earlier deed ? Hence- forth William Darrell was in possession at Littlecote until the day of his death. ■^ There can be little doubt that Sir Edward Darrell's dow- ager viewed these proceedings on her son's part with intense satisfaction. Indeed, about this time she was on the best of terms with him; and the two now opened a masterly campaign against her paternal family, the Essexes, who were at the bottom of most of the family embarrassments, with the sole view of profiting by them ; and who were a pack of as greedy, false, and cringing knaves as any perhaps in the county. Dame Elizabeth Darrell had received as a reasonable dower the modest annuity of almost £4,0 (;£^30o) a year in land. This assignment, ten years after date, her son acquired at ten years' purchase; with the condition attached that certain ancient tenants, specified by name, should be un- molested in their holdings, which was confirmed by a bond Darrell was required to enter into to that effect with his stepfather, John Rogers. The most considerable of these favoured tenants was an old servant of the family who had sub-let his holding to one of the younger Essexes and another The Landlord. 7 of that faction ; and who was secretly bought over by the Darrells. The latter, therefore, having completed their arrangements, made a sudden descent upon the sub-tenants' farms, impounded all their cattle, and sued their servants for trespass and damage. The fury of the enemy was intense. They called upon the lessor to make good his title ; but he found that he had mislaid the documents. They claimed the forfeiture of the bond, but there was none to prosecute the claim, for Dame Elizabeth's second husband was dead, and she herself was acting in collusion with their overlord, neither was their own position recognised by any previous deed : it depended on their lessor's title, and he had betrayed them. On every side, therefore, Darrell's triumph was complete ; but the victory was dearly bought. Henceforth his enemies devoted themselves body and soul to his utter destruction. It is easy to note after these last occurrences the increasing animosity which characterized the quarrel. The tenants of yet another manor defied their lord, and dragged him into court, there to defend his conduct. These were the copy- holders of Wanboro', whose ire had been excited by certain reforms of which the lord's steward had given notice in the manor court. They commenced a suit in the feudal Court of Requests for protection against their lord's malice. Here charges and counter-charges of a very extraordinary nature were brought forward. Darrell, it seems, had ejected certain of his tenants, and replaced them by more pliant vassals. These he supported against the rebellious majority, and the two parties soon came to extremities. Several of the old tenants were arrested by the new ones on a charge of felony. They were broMght before a neighbouring justice and committed for trial. Darrell exerted himself to make an example for the protection of his own people. He collected evidence and pressed for a conviction. The accused were returned guilty ; but found means, as Darrell bitterly complained, to obtain the Queen's pardon, contrary to all right and justice. To the action of the Wanboro' copyholders, Darrell replied with a cross-suit in Chancery to compel evidence for a trial at the common law. Meanwhile the case of the former, after 8 Elizabethan Society. hanging fire for a long time at the Court of Whitehall (Re- quests) came on for hearing ; when an injunction was issued to secure the plaintiffs in their holdings until the further hear- ing in Chancery. This decision was highly displeasing to Darren's side. One of his people refused at first to recognise the writ, observing incredulously " that it was a counterfayte and made under a busshe"— to the "evil example," as it was reported, of "many others." Foiled in one direction, Darrell fell back on his Chancery suit. The case had been directed to stand over till Michaelmas term ; but on the 28th of October, the defendants were suddenly served with notice to appear and make answer afresh on the 29th. The sum- mons was dated the 26th, though neither motion nor order had been made. In fact, the defendant's counsel had grossly neglected his client's interests, and had allowed his opponents to steal a march. Worse than this was Darrell's position with regard to his Berkshire tenants at UfiSngton. The chief of these was a nephew on whom he had lavished every kindness, and he, upon the occasion of some dispute, the merits of which are uncertain, though the law afterwards decided in the uncle's favour, made the following return for his benefactor's favours. Under his leadership a band of rioters armed with sword and buckler and the " picked " staves, which, to the manifold breach of the peace were then to be found in every man's hands, made a forcible entry into the lands in dispute. The shepherds whom they found in the fields after a few blows fled before them : so leaving some of their number to guard the fleecy "loot," they pursued their march to the mansion house, which they approached in skirmishing order. The garrison consisted only of two of Darrell's dairywomen ; but the invaders, fearing the possibility of an ambuscade, or more probably an action for burglary, did not at once mount to the assault, but turned the siege into a blockade, and " laye in contynuall awayte " about the house for the space of four or five days. During all this time they placed sen- tries on the terrace and patrolled the grounds, receiving sup- plies and reinforcements from their allies in the neighbourhood. The Landlord. 9 At last the house was stormed and the garrison suffered all the horrors of a miniature sack ; the place being henceforth occupied by the enemy in force. Meantime the detachment mounting guard over the flocks were reconnoitred by the trembling shepherds solicitous for their charge, as it was just then lambing time. These worthies, however, resenting the intrusion, seized the invaders, and, hoisting their heels aloft, " drew them violently a greate distance, their hedes knocking against the ground," and cast them headlong forth. Last of all was the case of the manor of Axford, one of the most weighty causes of those times. This estate had been con- veyed by Sir Edward Darrell to his father-in-law, Sir William Essex, and had been devised by the latter to his eldest son with option of purchase to Sir Edward Darrell and his heirs at a stated price. The sum in question was tendered by Sir Edward to the younger Essex, but was refused by the latter, and the matter was allowed to drop. But William Darrell was not a man to treat the subject so lightly. He considered himself the life tenant by succession to an inalien- able birthright, and without otherwise molesting the Essexes' tenant, began to fell timber on the manor. A law-suit at once followed, throughout which Darrell continued to fell timber as before in spite of his counsel's remonstrances. The Essexes supported their tenant, and the case was protracted for some twenty years ; while personal feeling became more and more embittered throughout its progress. All the above-mentioned contests were the result of a com- bination of Darrell's tenantry instigated by his personal enemies. Besides this, however, an individual tenant would at times exert himself to the injury or annoyance of the unpopular lord. One such having become indebted for the sum of ;£^200, his bond was accepted at six and twelve months, with a forfeit of 400 marks. The first half payment became due, was not presented, and Darrell pressed the forfeit of his bond. The tenant's story was that he repaired punctually with his money to Littlecote, and there, in the great hall, paid it over and obtained the receipt (produced). But Darrell, in league with the sheriff, distrained all his crops and cattle to 10 Elizabethan Society. a value far beyond even the sum of the forfeit ; and not con- tent, therewith imprisoned him "with yrons." The plaintiff's attention being called to the fact that this receipt was dated a year previously, he explained that this error was purposely introduced into the receipt by Darrell himself, profiting by his ignorance, and that it was clearly of a piece with all that person's other wickedness. With regard to the first count, however, we find, upon analysis, that the specified chattels seized by the lord could not possibly have exceeded in value the amount due. Moreover, there is proof that this unjust sheriff was actually putting into force the law, at that very time, in order to recover a debt due to the Crown half a century before by Darrell's great-grandfather, and that the former, disappointed of the sum promised him, was compelled to recover it in the ordinary course. These circumstances, taken in connection with each other for the first time, afford matter for serious reflection. William Darrell's rent-roll was no doubt at one time con- siderable. His father died possessed of twenty-five manors in various counties, the gross rental of which could not have been much less than ;^2000 by the year. What with aliena- tions, law-suits, and a higher rate of living, his son's average income scarcely exceeded half that amount. At the time of his greatest embarrassments, it was actually between £,^00 and ;£'8oo, apart from contingencies and expedients. About half of this was derived from the nett rents of some half-dozen manors ; and the rest was made up of arrears, dues, and the proceeds of the home farms at Littlecote and Axford. Against this must be set the working and incidental expenses of the farms and household ; the discharge of interest and annuities ; and the social and extraordinary expenses such as were entailed by the lord's territorial position or his visit to London before referred to. Darrell, however, was per- petually in difficulties. He owed money to usurers, to tradesmen, and to many of his neighbours. He anticipated his rents, and had pawned , much of his plate. These trans- actions brought him into collision with creditors whose importunities and familiarity his proud nature would little The Landlord. 1 1 brook ; and so one more element of discord was added to the feudal relations of our hero. There can be small doubt that this continual drain was chiefly owing to law-costs. Indeed, no other possible explanation presents itself. Darrell's house- hold consisted of retainers who had grown old in the service of the fainily, who were careful of their lord's interests as of their own, and the cost of whose maintenance did not, we know, exceed £^o a year. His worship himself was a model of sobriety in his private life. He enjoyed right good cheer without employing the services of a French cook. He drank little without shame, and smoked much without boasting. He did not ride forth with a gay cavalcade to hawk at partridges and wild fowl, or hunt his neighbour's deer like his father. He dressed in grey fustian like a yeoman, netted his game in a business-like manner, and waited to be supplied with venison by his friends. He preserved his trout and cultivated the gentle craft to supply his table. He paid a Dutch gardener and kept him lavishly supplied with seeds and implements. He farmed scientifically and successfully, and presented his sovereign with a sample of wheat for which he could command ;^S a quarter of our money, in a year when prices were low. He talked philosophy with his neigh- bours, when he was not at law with them. He read the Ancient Fathers, and cultivated a choice prose style of his own ; and he was better read in the law than most country practitioners of his tiriie. Finally he neither married the richly jointured relict of a near relative, nor " kept a brace of painted madams at his own command," but he devoted the best years of his life to a " Platonic " intercourse with a highly cultivated woman, the neglected wife of his father's youthful friend. Darrell's famous amour was the turning-point of his life. It was, indeed, as common for men of his class to debauch their neighbours' wives, as for two yeomen to draw on each other at a county fair, or for a 'craftsman to be butchered by his fellow in Smithfield. The atonement for bloodshed or dishonour done was trivial if it were not exacted on the spot. The offender could be reached best through his purse ; he 12 Elizabethan Society. bribed the law and escaped; or at the worst he was dis- franchised for a year or two. But Darrell's sin was his enemies' opportunity. Their triumph was insolent in pro- portion as it was unlooked for. A Wiltshire squire to cherish a romantic passion ; to write and receive love-letters, to meet in secret, to fly to London with his paramour, and no acres to be got ! It was as though another lord Say had insulted the intelligence of the commons of England ! One and all, they cried, "Away with him!" Sir Walter Hungerford abandoned his wife : the law was put in force, spies were employed, and witnesses suborned. For all this the lovers were unshaken in the vow they had plighted. The lady's father stood by her. Leicester espoused her cause, and Lady Sidney and her friends laughed over the little scandal. One of the injured knight's half-brothers took up his quarrel. He drew on Darrell and would have slain him, if the latter had not closed with him. Yet for all that Darrell suffered for this lady's sake, he was amply repaid by the tender love and noble constancy expressed in her letters to him. Then the Essexes and their crew bestirred themselves. They appeared in the justice room of Newbury, where the case of Darrell against Hide was being heard before Commissioners, and with all the impetuosity of malice accused one of the Little- cote servants of a foul murder. The sittings were suspended and the accused sought, but in vain. The justices repaired to Darrell's lodgings for information. He received them courteously, produced the missing servant, and refused to screen him from his accusers. The impression caused by this conduct was excellent. At last the passion of the informers broke loose. With bitter threats and imprecations they denounced Darrell himself as an accomplice in the murder. He replied to the wild charge with a mournful dignity, and the justices were visibly embarrassed. But the accused was a marked man, a sickly sheep, and any consider- ation towards him would have been dangerous. Finally bail was taken for him to meet the charge. This was the crisis of Darrell's fortune, and he sank beneath it. He was over- whelmed with debt, he was formally accused of one murder. The Landlord. 13 and suspected of another ; he had to bear the odium of debauchery and fraud, he was at law with nearly all his tenants, and in a state of open warfare with most of his neighbours ; finally he had been thrown into gaol and com- pelled to promise an enormous bribe, ;£^3000 at least of our money, to the Lord-Lieutenant of his county, the needy courtier Pembroke, Sidney's brother-in-law and his own kins- man, in order to obtain his release. Meanwhile, his bitterest foes were thirsting for his blood. They drew together and attacked all who were known to favour his cause. Even in this extremity Darrell was the same as ever, dignified, imperturbable, and sarcastic. He wrote to his fellow-justices to inform them of the lawless attitude of his enemies, and to warn them that the position could be strained no further without bloodshed. All this time, however, he was making good his retreat. He was in close communication with his friends at court, and was preparing to buy the protection which the law could not extend unbought. At last the blow fell. It came from Pembroke, who pressed for his promised ransom. The alternative was of course im- prisonment upon a private bond, for the wily statesman only issued his threatening notices through the mouth of his ser- vants ; and Darrell had but his own copy of the corre- spondence to support an improbable tale. All this Darrell knew only too well, but he answered the insolent message with calm disdain : " He was a freeman, and subject to none but the prince, to whom my lord was subject as well as he." To a second communication, still more violent and threaten- ing, he returned word : " that he would pray for his lordship." Soon he was with Popham, concerting measures for his safety. In the ante-room he met a servant of his lordship, who whis- pered that there were "strange courses intended" against him, and bade him " look to it." He answered impatiently, " Is there nothing always but strange courses in hand ?" Then he sacrificed his estates, and with them all hopes of continu- ing his ancient line, and fled to the Court. It is generally supposed that in the olden days, and there- 14 - Elizabethan, Society. fore especially in those of " good Queen Bess," peace and goodwill prevailed in a country whose sparse population was of necessity united in the common interest of self-preserva- tion. History, however,— or rather that small branch thereof which is not wholly dependent on mere supposition, — teaches us exactly the contrary lesson. With a less population, there will be found a preponderance of private interests ; with a greater, the advantage of the few must be subservient to that of the many. Moreover, in a great body politic, there is no room for local or corporate assertions and jealousies such as during the period before us absorbed almost the whole ques- tion of domestic government. The idea of individual interests, by legitimate methods, was remote as compared with that of class or family interests maintained by the traditional weapons of protection and plunder. Rather it was a war of native' against alien, of town against country, of those who had not against those who had a prerogative of wealth and power. The English trader complained that the realm was " pestered with fforreyne wares." The artisans " would have corne set out at a lower price and bound to be kept so still ; " while the former again " would none of that." The peasantry " would have al the gentilmen destroyed." The citizens " and those other that lived most on gentilmen," would " but have them reformed." Again, the gentry and " wise men of our county" reported of the towns, "that they be of no good government, and full of light people, as wevers, tuckers, sheremen, glovers, and suche other which livethe losely and without due obedyence." With the gentry themselves matters were even worse. Inter-marriages sowed the seeds of physical and mental corruption. A large proportion had a reversionary interest in their neighbours' possessions, and this they were only too eager to convert into an immediate one. The above considerations deeply affect any view that we may take of William Darrell's circumstances or conduct, for their local application at least will be obvious. Sir Philip Sidney wrote his sister's " Arcadia " amidst Wiltshire scenery and society. It was of Wiltshire towns, such as Marlborough The Landlord. 15 and Newbury, that the above unfavourable report was re- turned by Darrell's neighbours and friends, while of the latter themselves, he, a childless benefactor among kinsmen who hungered to divide the spoil, could write in the bitterness of his heart, " that day that a man would have my landes or my goodes, that day he would have my life also." The great distinction which existed between Darrell and his neighbours, and which made him appear as their foil, was this. He lived for his social and political relations ; they lived by them. With all his love of political chit-chat, and his budget of Court news, Darrell took little active part in local politics or government, then merely the reflection of the central. His name only appears once in the reports touch- ing the usual burning questions of Musters, Recusants, and Justices of the Peace, and he was only once returned to Parliament. Now, to his piishing and ambitious neighbours, the Government, or rather the Court, was the mysterious power that " bringeth all good things." They were for ever dragging themselves prominently into the notice of the Minister by their obsequious zeal for his interests. When the proper time came they looked for their reward — a grant of escheated lands, a dissolved monastery, or some other spoil of blood or sacrilege for which they watched patiently as a dog watches for the tossed bone. Their names may be found in nearly eVery parliament of the reign — with those of lawyers, monopolists, and usurers, the rising gener- ation of county magnates — and on nearly every local page of the State Papers. Thus Darrell's neighbours were prospering greatly after the traditions of their order. They were, like him, of the old race of unjust stewards who had bought the freehold of their stewardship for a song. But unlike him, they were shrewd, hard-headed men, with no care or ambition but to lay up acres. They had no sentiment, for they married money and wrangled over the settlements. They had no taste, for they conversed and wrote like Methodist preachers. Their one enjoyment was to be always gaining ; their one anxiety was to lose nothing that they had gained. Thus their great strength 1 6 Elizabethan Society. in those unquiet times was as " promoters " of jealousies and feuds amongst their neighbours or their own restless tenantry, feeling themselves most secure in the weakness of others. Knevett had married with Baynton, St. John with Hunger- ford, Hungerford with Long, Long with Danvers. Nearly all had married with Darrell. All fought with one another, but most of all with Darrell. Moreover, this is no piece of local colouring. The family and feudal history of Dacre and Bracebridge in the North, of the Greshams in the East, of Foljambe and Byron in the Midlands, of Corbet and Kyn- aston in the West, of Bray and Shelley in the South, will be found to contain exactly similar incidents differing only, and that not always, in degree. The reign of Elizabeth found the Esquire what the Reformation made him, a knavish syco- phant. The next century found him as he made himself, a blunt, earnest, thoughtful man, heartily weary of Courts, and distrustful of Governments. CHAPTER II. THE STEWARD. Of stewards,* other than "Ministers" of the Crown, there were two kinds. There was one who acted as a land-agent, supervising the tenants, presiding at the Courts of the manor, or manors, in which the lord had jurisdiction, and taking custody of the records which commemorated the customs with regard to copyhold lands, common of pasture, and the various easements and profits taken with the licence or by tie assignment of the lord through his deputy. The other was rather a house-steward than an agent. He paid the retainers' wages, and regulated the minage (and menu) of the household. In most cases he also overlooked the farm operations upon the lord's demesne, collected the rents, engaged and paid the labourers, sold the produce, and bought the stock and implements required about the house and farm. He was also the lord's cashier, if not his private secretary, and made all his ordinary disbursements for business or pleasure, ac- counting for the whole sums received by him either from the rents, or as advanced from time to time by his employer. The former description of steward, the lord's agent or officer, was usually a lawyer, or at least with some knowledge of law. The following is an excellent example of the social position of the great majority of the class. An old servant in the family of a Dorset magnate took, according to the common practice, of the time, a smallholding from his lord, probably at a nominal rent during his life. This favoured retainer had a son, educated and brought up for the law, and a student of Gray's Inn. Through his father's application he eventually got the appointment of steward to the Dorset and Somerset estates of the: latter's 17 C 1 8 Elizabethan Society. benefactor. In discharge of his office he was expected to sit on sixteen different court-leets, court-barons, and manor- courts, his remuneration being 20s. a year, and the court fees, which, however, it was alleged, did not, in this ,case, do more than cover the steward's travelling and incidental expenses. But, as probably in many other cases, this in- troduction led to better things. The steward's father died, and the son begged the reversion of his holding on the same easy terms, namely, without the usual fine, or heriot, amount- ing in this case to twenty marks. This was at first granted him, but eventually he was required to pay half that sum before he could be admitted. It is important to note that the chief qualification of the candidate in the above instance was distinctly referred to as consisting in his local knowledge. The prospect of an appointment on these terms must have led to the legal education and eventual prosperity of many a child of the soil, and have exercised a social influence akin to the ordination of villeins in the earlier age. The manorial steward had, however, a good deal to put up with. With an exception always in favour of his lord, he was one of the best abused people in the whole country-side. Fraud, malice, and even actual violence were commonly im- puted to him in the discharge of his functions. Sometimes it is complained that he has received bribes to divert or delay justice; at another he is accused of interested favouritism, as when he has espoused the cause of one copyholder (his own sub-tenant) against another, and "favoureth the said defendant in this mater," being a "grete ruler in the said court." As might have been expected, the steward also plays a considerable part in one of the favourite charges of the day, that of extorting money, etc., by a threat of criminal accusation, or, as it was elegantly expressed, " to charge him falsely and hang him for the same." On one occasion, when Wild Darrell's tenants were at open feud with their lord, and a well-grounded charge of felony had been preferred against some of them, a sensational tale was introduced in Coui;t— how, while the accused lay in gaol, they were visited at midnight by the steward of their manor (his wicked master The Steward. 19 remaining without), who, after failing to persuade them to renounce their claims to certain disputed property, departed in a rage, with the comfortable intimation that they should all be hanged for their contumacy. But, on the whole, the chief brunt of these agrarian battles was borne by the lord himself, especially when he happened to have a turn for the study of the law. On the other hand, it is rare to find instances of a disagreement between the lord and his steward. Such, indeed, did occur, as in the case of Sir Thomas Gresham's mother and widow, both of whom had litigation with refractory agents, the former selling up the offender's executor, and the latter gaining her suit. We even find a dishonest bailiff misappropriating his lord's rents, on the strength of the latter's indefinite sojourn in the Fleet for contempt of Court. But it may be believed that, in a vast majority of cases, the Elizabethan land-agent was a plodding and methodical official, eminently deserving of the trust reposed in him. The two following letters will illustrate admirably the more delicate business which fell within this worthy's province. They are both addressed to the influential personage who acted either as land-agent or house-steward to the mighty Earl of Shrewsbury. My humble comendacons promised ; yt may plese you the same to under- stand that in the later end of this last sommer abowte sixe or eight wekes paste my wife lent a blacke curtail nage to one Ales Fletcher, to Worsworthe in the Peike, from whence the nage strayed westward and was taken as a wafe att Belper, or near thareabowte, and is in a ground of my Lo. of Shrewsberye's. I beseche you, good Mr. Williamson, to do me the favore you can for the recouvry of my curtail. He is an old jade, and as false as he is old ; his eares and tayle cutt, his nose slitt, his mane shorne, a lettle white of one of his for-fete, two saddle spottes on the far side, somewhat dale backt, and hath a bare spote of one of his buttockes, as if it were scalded. He hathe bene stifled of bothe his hynder leges, and is white spotted in both the hames with garteringe. When he was lent, he was not fully recovered of a stiflinge on his ner hinde lege, but drewe yt somewhat after hym, and was sore in the ham with gartering. He rackes and trottes, and if the cuntry had bene champion (champaign), he wool have corame whome. I pray you, good sir, let thes bearer have yo^ letter in my beyhalfe to my lordes officer in Belper, and if I may do you the like pleasure wher I dwell, you shall commande me wherein I may. Thus hopinge of yoi: assured frendshipe herein, most humbly I take my leave. Yo' assured to command. This xxviij October. Andrews Nedham. 20 Elizabethan Society. It will be observed that the equine portraiture, contained in the above letter, is nearly as unfavourable as that given in a much-admired passage from Shakespeare of Petruchio's famous steed. The incident also affords proof of the tenacity with which a yeoman of those days could cling to the least valuable items of bis worldly gear, the "jade " in question not being worth, at the outside, more than lis. 4^,, and this letter being sent all the distance to London from the Derbyshire highlands. The second letter is from a scion of the ancient family of Foljambe, then probably a page in the suite of the Earl of Shrewsbury, during his attendance at court in one of the many troubled periods of his life. Mr. Williamsonn, — I protest to you by o\ L. God, th' occasions I have uppon ,Saturday ?'' I have mentioned in my forniier letteres be unfayned. I shall forfet xl;^ for want of payment of xx;^ that day, and shall be putt forthe of my lodgeinge to the woorst sort of gis-house, if I doe not that day lickwise pay what I owe in the ' house, w'=^ is xx;£' t above, for sins the ten pounds I last received from my lord, I never had pennie but on foure pounds forthe of the contree, w'=^ hathe brought me to this uttermost extremitie. Therefore good Mr. Williamsone help me this day or to-morrow by some meanss ette of my own or uppon loane till things be ordered : but in anie wise I pray you lett me wi'out delay know yo^ mynde and answere etfc by yoTself, or by yo^ letter, or by some discreet man, Mr. Beamond that was here about Rdyner's matter or some otM whom ye lieste to sende to have conference w* me ; if he be a lawier I shall like him betP. And thus most hartely wishing quiet end of these matters, to the honor and comoditie of my L. and to the relieff of my miserie here I bid you farewell. yore. This xxij* of Marche. H. FoiJambe. I were lothe to trouble Mr. Roger Manners ageine in this cause, and yet I Woulde take anie course of quiet, though to my disadvantage. To his lovinge frende, Mr. Nicholas Williamsonn. Deliver these. The type of steward most commonly met with was no doubt rather a combination of the lawyer-agent and foreman- butler, in the shape of a factotum such as Justice Shallow's man Davy— consulted by his master, now about the dinner, and now about the farm, overlooking both the accommodation of the guests and the conduct of the labourers, and exerting his The Steward. 21 influence upon the administration of justice within the manor. The prototype of Davy might easily be found in "Wild" D^rrell's steward at Littlecote, as his work is recorded in the accounts transcribed by his master. This steward was John Bordman, probably the successor of the wicked agent before referred to, the latter having risen in the world, and become a " gentleman " on his own account. It would be difficult to turn to a more complete description, by means of those most unerring and fascinating records of social history — figures — of the life and manage of an Elizabethan family, at home in the country or on a visit to town, than is here presented to us. In Sir Edward Darrell's time, fifty years before, a con- siderable extent of land in Littlecote and Wanborough was farmed by the lord. Now, however, the Wanborough farm had been ai)andoned, and a more convenient one taken in hand withirf the manor of Axford.- Amongst Sir Edward's effects, at his death, were included outstanding crops valued at £10 ; live stock, and the usual implements and utensils of farm and dairy. His great strength, like that of most land- owners of his time, was in sheep. Of these he bequeathed by his will 523 to his retainers, in lieu of legacies of 40J. each. 420 of the above were valued at only 2s. apiece ; 43 at about 2 J. ^d. ; and 60 more at 2s. 6d. These low prices are explained by the periodical murrain, then raging amongst the flocks, for at this very time the administratrix was allowed for 160 sheep which had died at Wanborough, and 100 at Littlecote, all within two months. Thus we have 750 sheep accounted for, which would bring the total number, by a moderate estimate, not far short of the limit of 2,000, allowed by the Government to individual owners.^ In his son's time this system of farming had given place to a more scientific one. The farms at Littlecote and Axford, under the management of William Darrell's steward, produced a considerable bulk of wheat and barley, both of fine quality and commanding fair prices ; beasts were reared and fattened, and there was every requisite for an extensive dairy. For example, in 1589, in the half-year ended at Midsummer, ' 25 H. 8, c. 13. Missing Page Missing Page 24 Elizabethan Society. It was also the duty of Darrell's steward to collect the rents at Lady Day and Michaelmas, from half a dozen manors containing not many fewer than a hundred tenants. This money went to swell his schedule of receipts, and was urgently needed to defraiy the town and country house-keeping and his master's personal expenses. At Easter he paid the wages of fourteen servants, and one woman-servant at Littlecote, amounting to £\1 is.; and those of seven others (One a woman) at Axford; in all, £22 5 J. 2d. The steward himself received \os. The maintenance of such a household as that of Littlecote was no slight responsi- bility. Every week the steward with two menials rode into Newbury or Ma:rlborough, put up at an inn — the Bull, perhaps, at Newbury, or the Beare at Marlborough, the landlord of which was a tenant of the worshipful Mr. St. John ; did his marketing ; dined (himself well and his attendants humbly), and returned with his purchases. These consisted usually of seven to fifteen score of beef at a time, or in Lent several couple of huge dried ling, with a few spices and groceries ; a bonne bouche, such as a beast's belly or a neat's tongue, and (very rarely) a pound or so of soap or candles. When the family were in London, the whole conduct of the journey, the communications with Littlecote, and the relays of fish, game, and poultry from thence were regulated by this ubiquitous official. He himself was backwards and forwards half his time between the country mansion and the town lodgings, ever watchful, ever omniscient. He neglected nothing the whole time, except ever now and again the weekly trip to market, and then he had laid in double supplies beforehand. That he did not neglect the comfort of either establishment will be evident from the fact that the Littlecote household was supplied with the liberal allowance of 2,500 pounds of meat and about 450 pounds of fish, with all other requisites in keeping, between 25th January and 6th July. Certainly the steward was not weighted with any personal attendance on his unfortunate master. The latter was escorted by a semi-legal secretary, a poor relation, and was nearly all his time at Westminster, or closeted with his counsel. His leisure The Steward. 25 he spent at Court, or shut up at home with a tobacco-pipe, paper, and ink. He seems to have seen little of his energetic steward except to advance money for the house-keeping, and even this he sometimes left on the table before going abroad. On July 14th, after a week's visit to Reigate, Darrell made his last journey home to Littlecote. The party supped at Hounslow on that day, dined at Maidenhead the next day, and supped at Reading. On the i6th, they arrived at New- bury, relieved the poor who turned out to welcome them, dined, and rode on to Littlecote. The steward paid all the reckonings by the way, amounting to £-^ "js. This is the last entry made in the accounts which have sur- vived of this estimable major-domo, all being transcribed with his master's own hand. Almost immediately after his return to the home of his fathers, Darrell fell sick of his last great illness. He died in October following, and Popham's agent seized on all his papers and remained in possession. We do not know whether the household was broken up or no. In great part at least it doubtless was, and the faithful retainers who with their fathers had stood by the last lords of Littlecote in good or evil fame dispersed to other service or to the wars. Be this as it may. Wild Darrell's frugal steward could have felt little joy at the scenes of sumptuous extravagance and riotous splendour which replaced the sober cheerfulness of the old-fashioned Elizabethan household. CHAPTER III. THE TENANT. In olden times, and certainly as late as the reign of Elizabeth, every owner or occupier of the land, low born or gentle, was in some sort or other a tenant, that is to say' was one, who on condition of holding himself ready at the lord's behest to attend his person, or to relieve his civil obligations, or to make a casual appearance at his court, or merely by the tie of fealty, held his lands by military service, or at a nominal rent, or at its market value, or in fee simple, as the case might be. All who fell below this chivalrous standard of tenure, we con- veniently class as peasants, villeins, or serfs, according to our political or historical predilections. But any assimilation, any transfusion of tenures, or any amelioration of social conditions, we, like the loyal disciples of the general historian that we are, absolutely refuse to do with. Yet the whole history of the i6th century should have'^ initiated us into the great social change, long in preparation, for some time actually in progress, which reached a climax after the final accomplishment of the so-called Reformation of the temporal position of the Church. When we find the land changing hands on all sides, granted by the Crown to needy courtiers, laid out to advantage by able speculators, and cultivated with untiring diligence by the highly-rented tenant farmer or husbandman, we might have given credit to the age for some improvement wrought externally. As it was, the position of the tenant, of whatever degree, was indeed im- mensely improved by the competition of the age. Land was no longer regarded as a military or labour-fee, but as a serious industry and profitable investment. For half a century, a Q {Chapel cf- Ka.se' ) Sr PETER'S CHURCH EAST LAND •r ^ t4 1^ AUSTIN'S I ip, ruddock's ^I ;^ SALTER'S \.j-M>-ii_G ETT'S lavender's M Y L E T T 'S BRADWELL CHURCH Plate I. ft- ^H- AN ELIZABETHAN HAMLET. (From an Origittal Plan of the Manor of Brad-well Essex.) The Tenant, 27 violent land-fever raged in town and country. The Crown was a ready seller, and found still more eager buyers. These new men, officials, merchants, lawyers, usurers, jostled the ancient owners, impoverished by mismanagement and ex- travagance, and each other. Both alike joined in an attempt to wrest from the sub-tenant his vested interest or fixity of tenure in the land. The history of this struggle is well seen in the case of such a manor as that of Conisboro', which had been granted by Letters Patent of Elizabeth, at the beginning of her reign, to Henry Carey, Baron Hunsdon, her own cousin in blood. Amongst other copyholders of that manor was one John Glasdall, described as yeoman, whose father of the same name had died nearly twenty years back seised of forty acres, " as of fee according to the custom of the said manor," all of which " descended and came, as of right it ought to do," to his son and heir. The latter, for his part, was not only admitted as tenant, but ever since "hathe well and truelie paide his rente, done his suite, service, and customes, and by the said custome hath bene quietlie and peaceablie in posses- sion of the premysses." Hunsdon wishing now to dispossess this tenant, and having no case at law, brought a Chancery suit on the pretence that the defendant had got possession of his Letters Patent, and that he was thus entitled to relief in equity ; his real object being to discover evidence from the admissions of the tenant on his oath, so as to raise a new question of title hitherto inadmissible at the Common Law. Therefore, to defeat this object, the tenant denied all know- ledge of any records except his own copy of the Court Rolls, and prayed to be dismissed. In the same way, the lord called upon the copyholders to make answer to complaints that they had concealed evidence such as the original Court-books and rolls of the manor. In another case, Hunsdon brought a suit against certain sub-tenants of the manor to establish his seignorial privileges. The tenant of Cushworth held of the manor of Conisboro' in fee by knight-service, homage, fealty, escuage, suit of court and a yearly rent of tenpence, and shortly before his death demised his holding for a term of 28 Elizabethan Society. years to two neighbours. His orphan heir being an infant, the lord claimed his wardship and the custody of his lands, calling upon the lessees to disclose the nature of their lease. It seems more probable, however, that the deceased tenant had commuted his free but uncertain tenure by knight-service, for a fixed tenure by fealty and rent through fine, and sur- render to his lord, and that he had conveyed, not demised, his lands in trust to the present defendants to elude the waste nearly always incurred,, in spite of Magna Carta, during a- feudal wardship. Hunsdon's application therefore for dis- covery of rent appears in this light as another expedient for gaining eviden'ce with a view to 'formal litigation. This method of procedure was, however, a recognised legal fiction, so far as fiction could exist in equity, and was not exercised only at the expense of humble and unfriended tenants. Another aggressive peer of this reign. Lord Huntingdon, took similar proceedings against the heir of Andrew, Lord Windsor, who had been for fifty years a copyhold tenant of the classic manor of Stoke Pogis. It was allege;d by the plaintiff that either the present holder or his father, by means of their social position, had got possession of the Court Rolls of the manor under pretext of making a copy therefrom. The defendant of course proved the custom of the manor and produced his own copy, disclaiming all knowledge of the original. The great object of the copyholder being to obtain at any"* cost a freehold in his tenure to the extent at least of an estate of inheritance, and that of his lord to benefit by the greatly enhanced value of the land, while reserving to himself the right of avoiding his engagements by a legal subterfuge, the issue between the parties centred in the interpretation of the_^ immemorial customs of the manor. This interest was not only claimed for the life estate of the widow by the usual custom of fi-ee-bench, and for the heirs of the deceased copy- holder, whether lineal or collateral, in perpetuity or for a limited number of lives ; but even for his executors and ad- ministrators, for an arbitrary period determined by custom. The Tenant. 29 In fact, the variations of copyhold tenure were not only as- similated to those of every form of free-service, but actually exceeded the latter in many instances in respect of fixity of tenure. Thus we find at the same period two cases of disputed interest, in one of which the obvious rights of a free tenant were successfully opposed by his lessor ; while in the other, the similar right of a base tenant was established by the immemorial custom of the manor. In the former instance. Sir James Foljambe of Derbyshire demised sixty acres of land in Yorkshire to a tenant who paid a fine of £^ and the old and accustomed rent and feudal services, the term of the demise being for fifteen years and occupation being to the tenant and his assigns. The tenant died, but by his will appointed his heir as his assign for the residue of the term of lease, which will was proved and the assign admitted. The next lord, Sir Godfrey Foljambe, however, endeavoured to avoid the lease, and in a Chancery suit discovered evidence for an action at the Common Law. In the second case two executors claimed possession of copyhold lands in Southamp- ton under the following special custom of the manor, that from time immemorial the widow of a deceased copyholder should enjoy a life estate in his holding for her free-bench, so long as she remained a widow ; and that after her death the executors, administrators, or assigns, should enjoy the profits of her lands till the Michaelmas following her decease. In some cases of complicated or inconvenient customs the lord and his tenants came to an arrangement at a manor-court specially held for the occasion, when the customs and services of the manor were revised and renewed, and a deed executed by the parties for their maintenance. This was done in the case of the manor of Cosonary in Cambridgeshire ; but not long after, the manor came to a new lord, who refused to be bound by the revised customs and ignored the deed executed by his predecessor. In this case, it will be observed, the whole effect of the former settlement was neutralised ; for, by the Common Law, customs to be binding must be of imimemorial usage. Thus by destroying the later record, and appealing only to 30 Elizabethan Society. the ancient rolls and to evidence in support of them, a hungry grantee of the Crown could practically confiscate the tenant- right of his copyholders which they had probably acquired at a great sacrifice. Another point tenaciously adhered to by the tenant against the innovations attempted by the lord was the fixity of fines paid on the admission of his heirs. Thus we have the record of a dispute between Littleton of Worcestershire, Leicester's kinsman, and his copyholders of Hales-Owen manor. These stoutly asserted the immemorial Custom of paying for their holdings a money fine and a rea- sonable heriot. In another case, in Derbyshire, the tenant claimed as an immemorial custom that the deceased tenant was succeeded by his widow, and she in turn by the eldest son or daughter (this being an estate for three lives), each paying for admission the best beast as a heriot, and no more. In fact, though universally attempted, rack-renting was scarcely ever successfully practised by Elizabethan landlords. The oppressed tenant (for he held himself to be oppressed in that he was excluded from the benefits of a long-cherished custom) knew where his remedy lay, and was exceedingly apt at discovering the same to his tyrant's confusion. If evidence of the customs to which he appealed existed, it was sure to be forthcoming, and, when produced, it was equally certain to receive due recognition at law. Usually a commission was issued to examine witnesses in perpetuA rei memorid ; but even this was in most cases unnecessary. Every free tenant had the counterpart of his lease, and every copyholder his copy of the Court Rolls, both sufficient title-deeds against the mere rapacity of their lords. Sometimes, however, no such ordinary course was efifectual, owing to the peculiar circum- stances of the case. This might arise from the influence of the lord, or of a rival nominee, as in the following instance. Here "a very simple man and nowe so pore a man that at this present he lyveth on the charyte of good people," ob- tained the reversion of a messuage in Alston Sutton, Somer- setshire, consisting of i cottage, 3 acres of land, 10 acres of arable, i yard-land, and a meadow, then in the occupation of his mother-in-law, the customary interest being for three The Tenant, 3 1 lives. When the reversion fell in, he was admitted, and paid the fine, and discharged the customary services for eight or nine years. After that interval, however, he was dispossessed by the lord in favour of a new tenant, contrary to the custom of the manor. It seems, however, that though this tenant imagined himself to be invested in a new interest by virtue of his bargain with the lord, the latter admitted him with the mental reservation that he inherited in right of his wife, the third and last life under the original term. Therefore, when the explanation took place, he would be able to quote Scrip- ture for his purpose out of the " records " of the manor to prove that the interest was extinct with the last heir. The ill-used tenant seems to have recognised this fact, for he complains that if he should proceed in the usual way the lord and his steward " wyll so boulster and beare the matter against him as they have alredie done, and they be men of great power and abylytie, so that he shall never have rem- edie.'' In another case the injured copyholder stood alone in his assertion of a customary right ; in fact, the lord and steward for once took a neutral part in the dispute. One of the Shropshire Corbets died seised in an estate of inheritance of 300 acres, with a tenement by copy of Court Roll from the lord of the manor of Longden. Now the cus- tom of that manor was that the younger son alone inherited ; or, if there were no younger son, then as in the case of Borough- English according to the Common Law. Corbet the elder died leaving an elder son in Shropshire and another son, much younger, in London. The former (his brother's existence being unknown save to himself) presented himself before the steward and demanded to be admitted as his father's heir according to the custom. To this the steward objected that being the only son, he was therefore the eldest, and so inadmissible. But the claimant replied ' with well- feigned astonishment that if he were the eldest, it might surely have been obvious that he was also the youngest pari passu. This explanation seemed to the steward so plausible that he blushed and held his tongue, at the same time ad- mitting the heir as tenant. Years afterwards the younger 32 Elizabethan Society. son, describing himself as a merchant-taylor of London, turned up and claimed his inheritance under the custom. He established his identity so satisfactorily that the steward, to whom the question no longer stood in the light of an abstract proposition, but as one easily solved by recourse to the " rule of two," could not refuse to admit him in lieu of his brother. The present sub-tenants also, being kinsmen of the family and taking in the altered position of affairs, readily " atturned," and procured favour with the new heir. Upon the latter 's return to London, however, his brother sold his reversion as presumptive heir to a powerful clansman, and these two appearing together before the surviving sub-tenant, an old man of above seventy years, threatened him that unless he " avoyded " forthwith, they would " charge and burden hym w' murder or felonye and hange hym for the same." The old peasant, acting perhaps advisedly, "avoided " accordingly, leaving the enemy in possession, to the undoing of the heir, " being a pore apprentyse." The wronged tenant had no hope of redress, because if he went to the Common Law he would be referred to the Court of the manor, being a copy- holder, and there the custom prevailed that all disputes be- tween copyholders should be decided in the Court by the copyhold suitors only. As there were just then but four of these, two of whom were defendants to the case, and the others openly pledged to the same side, he had small chance of obtaining justice. This is only one of a multitude of cases in which the absence of the heir, usually a mechanic in some distant town, gave the lord or his accomplices an opportunity for evading the established custom of the manor. The case of this ap- prentice might be matched by that of the heir to a copy- holder's estate of inheritance in half an ox-gang of arable land in Yorkshire. When the lad came south to find work, his grandfather was in possession, the custom being that tenure was vested in the holder and his heirs for ever. This was the beau-ideal of a copyholder's ambition, his position being practically assimilated to that of free-socage, namely, "To have their messuages and tenements to them during The Tenant. 33 their lives, and after their deceases, to the eldest sons of their bodies lawfully begotten, and for the lack of such issue, the remainder thereof to the next persons of the same blood paying the rents accustomed." — Customs of Borrowdale. However, whilst the grandson was working as a blacksmith in London, the grandfather and father died in quick suc- cession, and the holding was easily appropriated by the lord in the absence of any claimant, a willing tenant offering him- self in the shape of a neighbouring parson, who defied the heir when at last he appeared upon the scene. Cases indeed sometimes occurred in which an aggressive lord, driven to extremities, made the whole body of his copy- holders defendants to a suit in order to prejudice the evi- dence of those who must appear as the chief local wit- nesses. In other cases, however, the proceedings were con- fined, to a definite issue, the tenants claiming under a specific formula remaining " of record " in the Court Rolls of the manor. This might be concerning a claim to estate of in- heritance by the words, " Sibi et suis," to fell timber, or collect brushwood on their own holdings ; to demise their holdings for term of years without license ; or to alienate the same on payment of a fixed fine per acre. On the whole, perhaps, the position of the Elizabethan- copyholder, villein, or even serf, as some people would still delight to call him, was an independent and prosperous, if not an honourable one. Of political independence, indeed, he knew nothing, but then neither did two-thirds of the freemen around him. It was the social combination of classes and interests by which he benefited, and by the ficti- tious importance attached to the prosperity of the land interest by both of the rival parties in the State, by the Conservative advocates of an agricultural revival in oppo- sition to the free trade and radical movement in the towns ; and by the mercantile interest itself, athirst for those poli- tical and social distinctions which a connection with the land— alone afforded. The fashion has, indeed, been revived of late years, in spite of the lucid arguments to the contrary effect of Hargrave D 34 Elizabethan Society. Rogers and even Hallam, of pointing confidently to the servile condition of a certain class of base-tenants on the authority (inter alia) of certain commissions pro regina amongst the Duchy of Lancaster records as late as the reign of "Elizabeth. These commissions are issued by the Crown, in right of its Duchy, to inquire what lands and goods certain persons are seised of; since, the possessors being villeins regardant to manors indicated herein, their real and personal estates ought of right to come into the hands of the Crown. But these authorities overlook the fact that the existence of villeinage regardant at this period, as a legal fiction, has never been denied, only the circumstance that it was ever enforced. The motive of the Crown, indeed, was here very plain. Information has been received by its officers that the base-tenants of certain manors were not only reduced in circumstances, but were even steeping themselves in still greater embarrassments through an attempt to acquire fresh holdings by means of mortgages from unprincipled usurers, and loans from their good-natured neighbours— thus increas- ing local distress in bad seasons by their own reckless im- providence. Therefore these commissions were issued, as the^ result of which an inventory was made of the exact value of the tenant's lands, goods, and chattels, and of the amount of his good debts and bad debts. In every case where the tenant still held, lands, they were found to be of considerable extent, but barely stocked ; while the total of his assets was nearly equalled by that of his outstanding debts.\ Now the Crown had here a perfect right to demand such inquiry. Its demesnes were extensive, its bailiffs no honester than their contemporaries, and concealment or suspension of rents was, as appears from numberless examples, only too easily prac- tised. Therefore it was above all things necessary that tenants should be solvent. Moreover, in time of need those who had so hopelessly crippled their resources could not be depended on to perform the services in regard of which they held their lands at almost a nominal rent. But to sup- pose that the Crown really looked on these tenants as its serfs, chattels to be forfeited at its need or pleasure, would be The Tenant. 35 the height of absurdity. Many of them were men of good social position in all but the matter of their impending bank- ruptcy. One was a worthy artisan who lived in a house in Norwich assessed at 40J. yearly, and valued at £ifi at least, with another house of the same value, tenanted by a foreign merchant — both his freehold. This person, living in a highly rated house, which contained, besides the shop, a hall, buttery, parlour, kitchen, and other chambers, substantially furnished throughout, with assets valued at fiii'j \js., including all the necessary plant for his handicraft, was a " villein " whose property "ought of right to come into the hands and posses- sion " of the Crown, at the worst, for the neglect of some antiquated service! The presumption is monstrous on the face of it. It would argue no love of sentiment to affirm that the nation had outlived the day when such a state of things was possible. The copyholder's position had undergone great changes since the statute of Henry VIII. The fact is, that those who argue from the internal evidence only of these commissions, overlook the external evidence disclosed by the returns. In the case of alleged villeinage pleaded as a bar against a plaintiff in this same reign, we are not for a moment to suppose that the aggressor committed a trespass upon his tenant's property because he seriously disbelieved in the latter's right to consider that property his own. The plea was only raised as an after-thought to drive the plaintiff to a compromise. It was a technical objection, curious enough, and worthy of being carefully discussed, but deserving also to be set aside. Such frivolous objections have been only too common in the history of our Common Law. The true explanation of the case before us is that, against possible assets of £11^ 17s., the tenant owed nearly ;£^ioo without any ready means of discharging his obligations. His houses were mortgaged, and the corporation of his city was amongst his principal creditors. This, then, was especially a case which called for the interference of the tenant's responsible lord. But as there was no idea of confiscation, so there was no outrage intended or imagined. Even in the case of base- .tenants on the most favourable footing, their houses were 36 Elizabethan Society. rummaged, and their goods appraised to insure a full dis- charge of the lord's heriot. Now, such proceedings would tend to civil warfare ; then, they were regarded only as the prescriptive right of a superior caste to order the affairs of its dependants in the interests of both. In one case, a "villein" against whom such an inquiry was awarded, was styled "gentleman" in the commission itself. In fact, numbers of well-to-do yeomen who had acquired land which they could not afford to stock, stooped to surrender their freeholdings and receive them again as base-tenures, under the temptation of thus retaining them at a nominal rent. How had the villein acquired even his scanty immunities of old, except in mitigation of obsolete barbarism ? And how should he fail to obtain proportionate concessions in a still later age, and under far more altered conditions of social life ? So far, therefore, from the position of the base-tenant being- sharply marked out, there was no , appreciable difference between-his condition and that of an average free-tenant by service or rent. The latter was undoubtedly more intelligent, and the prospects of his connection with the land extended, beyond the term of his lease. As the great object of the copy-holder was to obtain fixity of tenure, so that of the free- tenant was to acquire the freehold of his farm. Rent had increased in most cases in a far higher ratio than the value of produce. Moreover the agriculturist was not directly benefited by the thriftless expenditure of the dissolute gentry as was the citizen. His, therefore, was the voice that in times of civil tumult clamoured for the landlords to be exterminated, while the worthy citizen was content with a promise of reform. But if rents were excessive, title in land was precarious to the great, and proportionally cheap to the humble speculator who took his opportunities. The contrast, indeed, is striking between the rigorous provisions of an ordinary legal demise such as any of those which survive made between Archbishop Sandys and his son (the lawyer and pupil of Hooker), or the latter and his own sub-tenants, and the easy tenure of what in so many cases may justly be called a customary . freehold by copy of court roll, qualified by the immemorial ^ Copyhold House. Copyhold Cottage. Copyhold House. Copyhold Barn, Plate II. pp. 36-7. COPYHOLD TENEMENTS IN THE REIGN OF ELIZABETH. (From an Original Survey.) The Tenant. 37 usage of the locality. But, for all that, the life of even the^ humblest free-tenant was a distinct advance in social organ- ization. How fully able such a one was to protect his own interests in his tenure, as well as to take instant advantage of the weakness or necessities of his landlord, the following memorandum will prove. It would seem that the writer had taken a lease of one of the numerous capital mansions, dis- used or secondary manor houses, which abounded throughout the country, together with a small quantity of land surround- ing it ; and that subsequently the lessor repented of her contract and wished to buy the tenant out. " To bee allowed me. "Ffyrste to be allowed mee j yeare's rent for the howsse after the ratte I paye for the lands, that is for vij ackers — \6s. 2>d. \ for the howsse ;£'3 3^. 4^. that rent she had of me this yere so I am to be allowed for the howsse j yeares rent— £1 3 J. 4^. AUso I hirred the howse and lands of hir the 14 day of JanT and at our lady she had of me for her haulfe yeres rent 55J. and I had no more for it but the pasture aboute the howsse the wiche I offered for 8j. and the rent of ffrere's howse 6s. the wich is 14J. in all that I had for my haulfe yeres rent that she had of me, and in consiens I am to be alouyd the rest — 4IJ. All hir hay liefe.styll in the bame and the bame is not repared acording to hir bargen, so that it hath spyled my corne as you may se to me losse — 20s. AUso if they will have my lesse, let them pay well for it, conseder- ing how ryoutusly by forse they have taken away my pos- sessions to my great trubbell and hinderaunces — £^. Allso for my dung and the carridges of it to my wheate closse, in Ladd's closse — 10s. The whiche wheate I will have at harvest with the proffet of the grounds, untell my wheate be of, as all the reste of the pasture abowte the howsse tell our Lady day. Allso I am to be allowed for the fencing the garden, heggine of the orcharde and hegges abrod on the grounds. Allso if yow do agree then I must have tyme tell our Lady or Mydsomer day to carry away my corne, straw, and hay, and that I have in the barnes, as all other things that be myne on the grounde. Allso she had of me this o 8 Elizabethan Society. yere £6 lys. beside I have payed to the pore, to the gayle, and for the fyften— ;^3." The state of agriculture did not offer many inducements to- the practical tenant-farmer of those ddys. The cultivation of grain was a necessity with him, as also was the fattening of cattle ; but neither of these branches paid so well as the sheep-runs and dairy farms of the wealthy grazier, whether he were bishop, esquire, or shopkeeper. Prices had risen considerably, but rents had increased in still greater propor- tion. The population of the towns, the chief consumers, were mostly supplied through middle-men ; so that here the farmer's profit was curtailed." Second in magnitude of consumption was probably the public service defrayed by the Government. From the fre- quent complaints of its contractors, it is probable that the allowances of the Government did not correspond with the increased market value of commodities. We know further that such complaints received but little attention. Therefore as most of these contractors were enriched by their office, the presumption is inevitable that the Crown or its agents were very undesirable customers for the farmer's produce. This is rendered almost certain from the fact that the Government did not, as might have been supposed, buy of middle-men. The grain, oxen, sheep, pigs, and other provisions required for victualling purposes by land or sea were bought up in comparatively small quantities everywhere throughout the country. A single contrac,tor for one trifling expedition would usually despatch his agents through half a dozen counties to drive hard bargains for the patentee of the Crown, where they would have the benefit of the officious zeal " to be aiding and assisting unto them " of all the king's justices, ministers and bailiffs, Shallow, Dogberry and the rest. When Latimer, in one of his famous sermons, called to mind the prosperity of an earlier agricultural age in the case of his own father, he was probably sincerely convinced that the present condition of the farmer was a very bad one by comparison. His father occupying a farm at the end of the previous century, was rented at not more than ;^4. Against The Tenant. 39 this he seems to have cultivated enough land to engross the labour of half a dozen journeymen, including pasturage for 100 sheep, and 30 kine, to which must be added a due pro- portion — at least one-half — of young or fatting beasts, and two teams of oxen or horses, a nag, pigs and poultry, and the usual utensils and fixtures of farm and homestead. Now if this version be true, and it is probably a good deal overstated, it is no wonder that the tenant should have been able to serve his country and the interests of his own family so well. But supposing that under Edward VI. the then tenant paid, according to Latimer, £16, instead of £/^ ; the gross value of produce had increased by nearly one-half, and the purchasing power of money to the agriculturist had decreased by, say one-fourth. So that, supposing the elder Latimer's profit to have been £2i„ that of his successor would be £2^ ; which, less the balance of the rent reduced to contemporary value, would, roughly, make a difference of the original rent between the two. Therefore out of £2/^ yearly saved on a precarious tenure this prosperous yeoman furnishes himself with a nag and armour ; gives alms to the poor ; finds portions for his daughters, and educates his son ; none of which things his over-rented successor is able to accomplish. But in how many instances was the rent of land quadrupled .■• With the copyholder the increase might be one-third, with the favoured free-tenant; two-thirds, with all the rest, not more than double. The difficulty of the tenant was not to live from the land, but to obtain land to live on, always with fixity of tenure presupposed. Moreover, the military liabilities of the earlier period were as nothing beside those incurred by the yeoman or free-tenant under the stormy reigns of Henry VIII. and Edward VI. With regard to charity, upon which Latimer lays such stress, it is sufficient to object that it was out of fashion. But that the estate of a later-day tenant was equal to meeting such appeals, we may instance the bequest of one who left effects not much exceeding ;£'20, and on the strength of this bequeathed 60s. and 15 bushels of wheat to the poor.* A tenant of this standing could not only portion his * Nearly a fourth of the whole estate. 40 Elizabethan Society. daughter, but. minister to her extravagancies on the occasion of visits to her friends or junketings at home, as the following extract will testify : " For the apparell of EUyn at Chalms- forde and elsewhere ;^3. Delivered to her at Mr. Danyell's 20J. Sense she was marryed and before in olde golde £,}, IS. 4^." As for the ability of the later tenant farmer to provide a promising son with a scholastic education, we find numerous cases in which the sons even of husbandmen had their college expenses, including furniture, books, dress, and private coaching, guaranteed to them by their relatives or friends. It is painful to add, however, that in many instances the guarantee was broken ; but the ability to have fulfilled it seems indisputable. Latimer had good cause to reproach his own age with the sins of covetousness, selfishness, and want of faith ; but these after all were rather negative virtues, if we may judge from the worldly prosperity which they brought to those who practised them. It was, in truth, a frivolous age in the light of a bygone" earnestness and religiousness of life. The gains of industry and science, diminished by no regard for the interests or necessities of others, were spent on their possessor's personal pleasures ; in eating, dress, gambling, and lewdness. The increased expenditure upon the least harmful of these diver- sions alone will speak for itself, as in the case of the following analysis of the goods and chattels of a husbandman of the times when Latimer preached his sermons. He was pro- bably a copyholder, for the rent of his land was only 20s. a year. The value of all his live and dead stock was ;^55. His household effects included 3 bedsteads, 4 mattresses, a flock bed, pillows, coverings, hangings, and 10 pair of sheets. Amongst the ware were pewter dishes, and 3 dozen trenchers. " His wyve's rayment " consisted of " Hur best gowne, ioj. Hur olde gowne, Sj. A kyrtell of Russett, 9^. 2 kyrtells of Fusten, qj. Hur best peticott, 4r. Hur olde peticott, is. A payer of foresleves and the coffer together, 3J. A silver pynne, \s. 2d. The best hokes, is. lod. A payr of smale hokes, 6cl. 3 rebonds, is. 6d. The best cappe, 2s. ^d. A smoke, Sd. A neckecher, 6d. 5 kerchers, $s. 3 napkyns. The Tenant. 41 1 J." The good man's wardrobe was composed of "A gowne, Sj. a dublet and jacket, 6s. M. 2 payr hoses, 2s. M. 2 sherts, \s. 6d. A blake sieved cote, 3J. 6d. A Fryse, is. Bd. A canvas dublet, lod. A cappe, 6d." Thus was ushered in the state of agriculture under Elizabeth. Now the profits were still larger, and tenure more secure. In the middle of the reign the stock of a con- siderable tenant was valued at over ;^400. But besides this, the remainder of his lease, with four years to run, was also taken into account. The profits of the farm were estimated at £io a year ; so the sum of £Z^o was included in the valuation to represent his tenant-right. ' This one case may be taken as an example of the state of the tenant's affairs in hundreds of others during the reign. But if the profits to be derived from the land were large, those of trade were still more enormous. If the farmer could save a fortune, the trader made it, with greater effort indeed, but twice as rapidly. The latter, therefore, was ever on the look-out for a profitable investment in land. At the same time, the country gentleman who lived beyond his means was always entan- gling in difficulties both himself and his tenants. The latter were continually being harassed by mortgagees who had fore- closed or creditors armed with a bond in the nature of a statute staple. The free-tenants fared badly in this respect : the copyholders worse. Both would have experienced the worst but for the protecting arm of the law ever raised to succour them. PART 11. IN TOWN. CHAPTER IV. THE BURGESS. Thrift, enterprise, and the punctual observance of a code of morality which admits of everything for, and permits of nothing against the worldly interests of its professors, have for more than three centuries enriched this country, and in it none more than the citizens of London. In this aspect, the latter might be considered as the great workers in the commonwealth, those by whose care and diligence the sove- reign state itself has been supported and increased, with the blind instinct, it is true, which urges on an indefinite exten- sion of the population without regard to health-space or food resources, but yet with that conscious instinct which has never yet learnt the lesson of fallibility. However, these London citizens would be workers only. It was enough for them to store up golden honey, the capital which was to feed the growing labour resources of the country : as well as the lazy playmates of royalty, who swarmed about the Court ; for ever consuming, wasting, producing nothing but wars and famine, and rebellions ; with no stake in the country but their own worthless lives, forfeited ten times before the hour of retribution was come. Therefore they would have no wars. War was the support of the needy and discontented ; they were both rich and flourishing through peace. The time had not yet come when merchants found their account in plundering a warlike government willing to be plundered to propitiate such allies. In the beginning of Elizabeth's reign the good citizens shunned all warlike gear. This body prayed that they might be excused even the volun- teer profession of arms, seeing that " the moste parte of them 46 Elizabethan Society, are apprentices and handycraftes men, who contynually are kepte at worke ; who also if they should have that libertie to be trayned and drawen from there workes in these matters, wolde thereby fall into such idleness and insolency that many W? never be reduced agayn into any good order or service." Such were the sentiments of those "that lived most on gentlemen." The latter for their part held very similar opinions. "If suche wilfulnes they reported shoulde enter into their heddes as hath bynne sene to often in England then mighte thei sone have th? th'. were not fitte for them to use." When all England was in mourning for her greatest fighting man, one civic company only, the Grocers', followed his remains to St. Paul's. Three years later, Sidney's uncle (to her cost, England's generalissimo) would have nought to do with the London train-bands, " as knowing what burghers are." So the Londoner pursued the paths of peace which conducted him anon to warehouse palaces, and in his later days to pleasant manor houses, where haply his descendants still reign in his stead, and where his knightly arms are em- blazoned on the panel, as are his virtues on the wall of the adjacent church — false heraldry either record. But though they were never weary of listening to com- parisons drawn in their own favour with the ant or the bee, there was one analogy from insect-life the application of which to themselves filled their hearts with anger and dismay. "What ado was there made in London," says Latimer, "at a certain man because he sayd, and indede at that time on a just cause : ' Burgesses,' quod he, ' nay, butterflies ! ' And yet would God they were no worse than butterflies. Butter- fiyes do but theyre nature ; the butterflye is not covetouse, is not gredye of other men's goods, ... is. not mercilesse." It seems at first sight difficult to conceive what cause for displeasure the citizens should have had against the author of this trifling epigram. We must remember, however, that the received reading of natural history was then purely alle- gorical. The butterfly was the great type of human frailty, which in spite of all outward show of natural beauty and The Burgess. 47 virtue, cannot yet escape corruption, but rather plunges deeper into the slough of filthy lucre ; just as the winged insect, mindful of its ancient nature, descends from the pure sunlight and the fresh flowers to batten on festering carrion within some secret glade of the forest. ' The corruption which had contaminated the Londoner was nothing less in the eyes of the Christian world than the sin of usury — the crying evil of the age. We find allusions to it everywhere, in contemporary literature ; some distorted pic- tures ; others only too faithful delineations. One of the most remarkable of these is given in the "Looking Glasse for London and England," in the scenes between the usurer and his clients : — Gentleman. I pray you, Sir, consider that my losse was great by the com- moditie. I tooke up, you knowe. Sir, I borrowed of you fortie pounds, whereof I had ten pounds in money and thirtie pounds in lutestrings, which when I came to sell againe, I could get but five pounds for them, so had I, Sir, but fifteene pounds for my fortie. In consideration of this ill bargaine, I pray you. Sir, give me a month longer. Usurer. I answered thee afore not a minute. What have I to do how thy bar- gain proved ? I have thy hand set to my booke, that thou receivest fortie pounds of me in money. Gentleman. I, Sir ; it was your device that, to colour the statute ; but your conscience knows what I had. The next scene is laid in a Court of Law, where the usurer's victims have appealed for their bonds to be cancelled so as to escape the forfeit. Usurer. What, Maister Lawier, what make you heere mine adversary for these Clients ? Lawyer. So it hath chanced now. Sir. Usurer. I know you know the old proverbe. He is not wise that is not wise for himselfe. I would not be disgraced in this action, therefore here is twentie angels. Say nothing in the matter, and what you say, say to no purpose, for the Judge is my friend. Lawyer. ^ Let me alone, I'll fit your purpose. Then judgment is given — a close parody of many a judg- ment which the authors must themselves have- heard ; just as Bunyan may have heard the sentence passed upon Faith- ful — " you have forfeited your recognizance, and he to have the land." We must take into account, however, the relations 48 Elizabethan Society. of many contemporary satirists with regard to their subject. Shakespeare was the son of an alderman who had sunk below the level through his own supineness and unthrift. Ben Jonsbn had writhed under the jeers and hootings of a citizen pit; and, moreover, only adapted Italian vice to English scenery in his imitations of Plautus and Terence. Even Latimer was the victim of a charitable trust, yoked to a dishonest co-trustee, just as Walton, who always railed at the law, was himself its victim. Young Thomas Lodge, the dramatist, was the son of another alderman who had prospered without incurring the stain of usury. But under his father's roof he had the opportunity of studying another type of citizen life, a specimen of the true butterfly breed, the actual model (it may be) of his usurer, George Stoddard, the hero of our sketch. In the reign of Queen Mary there was in business with Master Thomas Lodge, grocer, of London, an old apprentice, now become his manager or agent, with opportunities of doing a little business on his own account. George Stoddard must have begun life in a very humble way. When he was not driving bargains with customers, he was employed in Flanders, Ireland, or even in Russia, upon some financial mission, in the profits of which he generally managed to have a share. All his expenses were recorded by himself very carefully, thus : " I came to Andwarpe the 18 day of June, in the morninge, and my carfe began at the Inglys Hous the sayme day at neyt." " For my charges coming from London to Andwarpe le 18 June, £2 4J. "jdr " Lost at boules senes my comynge to Andwarpe, 3J. 2d ; and at dyse at Mr. Robynsones, ioj.," etc. The young agent's whole object was to save money for the investments which his genius pointed out to him. It was with him now the seed-time of his fortune, and he strained every nerve to sow plentifully. He paid his own expenses in his master's service, for he had a verbal agreement with the latter that these should be allowed him — with any per cent, interest — at his convenience. His own stock was not large. He had ;^20 in "olde golde" and "brasletts" in his chest. All the The Burgess. 49 rest of his property was out at interest, and he could well wait to reap the harvest in due season. Sometimes he was hard pressed for money. He owed £\6 and interest for four quarters to one of the house, and he makes a note for the payment of half the amount by another with the pressing appendix, "My frend doo this in God's name." In his personal expenses Stoddard practised the most rigid economy. In spite of himself, however, he was led into many extrava- gances, for he was obliged to court the society of the well- dressed roisterers on whom he preyed. Thus, while he payed petty sums for repairing " slippers " and " showne," and for mending " doblyt," " houes," and gloves, till their latter state must have been most unpresentable ; to " a person for taking out the lyninge of my cassok and putting in bucram ; " for " 5 newe bands to my olde sherts, w'. making and setting of the ruffes thereto," he incurred also expenses far beyond his position or means. Thus we find the entries, "a payer of gloves parfoumynge, loj." "Dressinge my hatte w'. the lyninge, u." "Dressinge my swerde." "For a lyttel whyte turtall, other wyes a horse, £2!^ The same "at grass at i2d. le weke." "A ryding cloke w'. silke and buttons." "Riding houes, 6s" Thus equipped, our citizen was wont to repair to Staines with his spaniel and fowling- piece, where there resorted also, no doubt, kindred spirits in a higher sphere of life, such as needy dissipated courtiers fcom Windsor. Amongst these he plied a brisk trade in com- missions and loans, all of which (with the profit therefrom accruing neatly worked out) went to swell the credit side of his private ledger. Therefore, the outlay in horseflesh and appointments once made, he could well afford what was " lost at divers tymes at the dyse playinge when I was at Stanes, \Qs." or " for fyndinge of Trevye when he was lost turning ought of Stanes, 2J." A similar motive for dissipation will doubtless explain the entry : " Th'. I paid in iij maskes 14J. 4//." The total of our worthy's yearly expenses at this trying period of his life was about £jo on an average — his fixed income being only ;^20. At last the day of reckoning and of triumph for George E 50 Elizabethan Society. Stoddard arrived. Matters were now ripe for an explanation with his master, a worthy easy-going citizen who had recently been elected to the position of an alderman, and who on account of his extraordinary expenditure for that proud occasion had hitherto deferred, the question of his indebted- ness to his talented assistant. The latter, however, who had studied the question in all its possible bearings for nearly seven years, suddenly brought the result of his calculations to the light. He had faithfully set down every possible item for which his master could reasonably be expected to pay ; and while forbearing to press for the debt, had reckoned interest and compound interest thereon till the whole amounted to a sum which must have astonished and alarmed his patron not a little. The chief items were made up as follows : — "A note what mone Mr. Thomas Lodge, alderman, doth owe unto me, George Stoddarde. ;f 85, which I alouyd for the lose of syllver which my M'. made alowans for in K? Edwarde's daye, with the ockapying therof for six yeres, £\']2 6= 3''. For ^23 w* I ought for to have for my going and beinge in lorlonde seven munts, promysed be Mr. Lodge after the rate of 40;^ a yere, w*" woold have gained at lest i^46 n». 6^. For the ockapying of ^443 6= 8* for 3 yeres and a hayffe, w=^^ woolde have gayned in ockapying or other wyes putting forth at lest;^670 14' 3^. For paying of £(>o by exchange at 2o» S* at the interest aloueyd the Quynes M? agent in Flanders, w^!" Mr. Lodge ought to have p?, be that he had the other £(iO at 2i» and no interest p?,;^3 5'. For a legosy w=li my Mr. Prat dyd gyve me by his wylle w* I have not as yyt rec* , £'^ 6= 8^. Item — my Mr. owes me for a wayger layde w'!? hee upon a boye or a girle, the wych I have wone, so that he owythe me £v los 3a. So the total dew unto me George Stoddard w^h Mr. Lodge ovpyheth me is ;^II98— ;f758" (less ;^443 6» 64, and more £1 6» 8*, and other items). The £wi 6s. 6d. here deducted is the subject of another memorandum. "A note what raone I have ever reseyvyd of this sum ^'*} I demand of Mr. Thos. Lodge, alderman at this present daye. I have rec? of this sum here agaynst at divers and sundry tymes as aperes by there owne bondes, ;£'443 6= 6\ It?'. More the doo demande of me, w* ye saye was p? unto me, but I knowe yt not and lycke cas as dyd apere by there owne byll w* I tar in peces in presens of them all, and promysyd that I would paye yt when my M'. dyd allowe me my mone wych he sayth he will doo w* the helpe o( God. Then of thys mone The Burgess. 51 above sayde I have spent in my ordynary charges as was to be provyd, and as the arbitrers did perseyve and know well, in this his servys and trade nothinge thereof alouyd me of my sayde Mt Mr. Lodge, but dyd promys me afor them, w^? was T. Stokmede, Fr. Robynson, and H. Hamaike, to alowe me hereafter, for that he was nowe called to be an alderman and colde not then doo yt but herafter and yf God dyd spare him lyf, " etc. Of this earlier payment also, more than half was on ac- count of interest upon the principal account which had baen manipulated by the agent so entirely to his own advantage that ^£"44 6s. 6d. had grcfwn in three years to £170, and the remainder in like proportion. Thus with a little capital of something near ;^5,ooo (of our value) in hand, and not much less put out at interest in other quarters, George Stoddarde began business on his own ac- count as a grocer, with the fairest promise of success. He adhered still to his old principle of never neglecting an oppor- tunity of securing a large return for his capital or stock, how- ever wild the bargain might have appeared to more sober traders. He relied in the first place on his own judgment and experience ; and, secondly, on the means he could adopt for covering his liability. Sitting quietly at home, he would work out the whole position, and having ascertained that the result would be highly favourable to himself, he would then satisfy himself by good proof that the security left with him was genuine. If he had reason to think that a property was " reyted too highly," a memorandum to that effect was made, and a supplementary bond must be forthcoming from his debtor under threat of immediate proceedings to recover the amount already advanced. The law was cheap and effective for those that knew how to procure its good offices, and our grocer was deeply versed in all its intricacies. Fisher was his attorney, and he regularly retained some of the most skil- ful counsel of the day, including Manwood, Fanshawe, and George Darrell, first cousin of William Darrell, of Littlecote, mentioned below in his uncle's will. The fees of the above for each term, with their instructions, were entered by him- self, and formed a considerable item in his expenditure. But it was money twice saved. In speculations on Exchange, he 52 Elizabethan Society. at this time meddled little ; for he lacked the royal patronage which made men like Gresham and Sharrington wealthy, and such transactions were not uniformly profitable. Thus we find the entry, " For the lose of £60 taken up in London of W?> Sherrynton at 22^ 2^**, remytted from Andwarpe, and bougte agayne at 21^ \\^, wherein is lost, making in all £6z 1^ More by account w* I doo owe him for that he haythe p^ senes o^ last cleryng ;^3 7^" One of his chief debtors about this time was Thomas Starkye, a draper, whom he " backed " to a considerable amount, but with his usual caution in the matter of security, as witness this note : " M? That I, George Stoddard, have ,been bounde unto Robert Housse, clotheworker w^ Thos. Starkeye for the som of £ifi, for the \i^ ye s4 Starkeye must put me in sortes to have me harmeles or the mone goues not oute of my bonds her ageynst." With regard to his business as a grocer, George Stoddard seems to have prided himself on taking as little cash as possible over his counter. In the early part of Elizabeth's reign the spirit of commercial enterprise, so strong in the breasts of her subjects, had little or no scope, and the old traditions of the Catholic religion made usury pure and Simple an object of reproach. To avoid both of these dif- ficulties, a compromise was arrived at. The merchant who wished for a larger margin of profit on his wares than was mapped out for him by the economical policy of a paternal government, entered into what Shylock called a "merry bond " with his customers — when he knew them. The nature of these bargains will be best seen from the following in- stances recorded in Stoddard's ledger. "J. Klynt to G. S. 4' S^, being for my night gowne forryd, to him sold, to pay at his daye of marreayge, and yf yt pies God I doo deye afor him or his marreage, then he topaye nothinge for it. Styven Myllney, Merch'. Taylof , to G. S. for a payer of gloves, to pay me for them 20s whan J. Howsard, servant at this present w'. Mr. Thos. Lodge, Alder- man of London, doo marry EUyne Sarttinge, servant w1 W™ Stoner. So that yf he doo not marry I must have nothyng. F. H., Merchant Taylor, to G. S. 3 sabylls of the very best w?'' shall com from Russer, wher now he is goinge, and ys for a gowne, other wyse caulyde a doudge, w'. all things thereto belonging, or to paye me at his return as aforsaid zo^. The Burgess. 53 Artur Edwards to G. S. £21^ 10^. He owithe me at his returne from Russer for a sword gerdyl, 2 marterne skynes ; for a longe gune callyd a fouUinge pease, 3 sabell skjmes of the best, or elles a good fell to mak a clok of ; for a spanyell callyd Tryvey, 4 sabyl skynes ; for 2lb whyt sheuger candy w^** he promised me woolde be solde ther for 30 Rubbylls or more a lb, so that he haythe promysed 8 frenche crownes of yt at the lest or the vayllowe therof. More, for a payer of shytts he lyfft to paye at his cuminge from Russer wher the shipes is nowe gone by no byll of his hand for lacke of tyme £,\'i 13" 4'*. R.' Leds to G. S. for a Ringe callyd a Ryboys j^i 13' 4*, to paye at my daye of marryage or elles at his ower of Deythe. For a Rayper for 40'', to paye at his daye of marige or elles not. For a Dager, to paye me at his comynge from Venys a nage or gellding w^'' shalbe worth 40' at the leste. For 6 handkerchers 13° i^, to paye at his first chylde to me or my exsekewters. N. Small, clothworker, to G. S. S;^ for a gre gellding, to be p? at his next chylde •]£, or at his ol of daythe <,£. By Mary Cotton, gentilwoman, of Hamsher, 28 Desember at nowne, lij^,, for two Ryngs, a Dyamaunde and a Rybboi : to be p? to me or assignes by her or assigns at here daye of marryayge or ower of Daythe whether of them comyth first. At wyche bargaine made ther was present sytting at the tabyll, Mr. Edmond Forde, of Hartinge, Co. Sussex. Thes after named — Sweet, Doctor Setun of Wynchester, Mr. Ed. Forde, squire and jostus, w? his wyffe, Mr. Derynge, gentil- man, who marryd here syster, and his wyffe w?"" is her syster, N. Small, cloth- worker of London, John Vyolyt, Fyshmonger, Mr. Forde, of Harting, young Thos. Folce her cossen, w'. dyvers other that war ther, w* I knew not ther names and as for ane byll by her hand I have none by resson ther is so many witneses to the bargane makinge." This last singular entry suggests more problems than could be easily solved or profitably answered. By whom were the rings to be eventually paid for .? _ By the bridegroom, the bride's father, or out of the lady's own pin-money or jointure.' Again, what was the meaning of all this aristocratic gathering under the young grocer's roof at the hour of noon .? Were they clients, or customers, or guests, or gossips .' Verily this burgess also was a butterfly ! From a " merry bond " to colour the statute qn the " lute- strings " principle, the transition was easy to an actual advance of hard cash in the form usually of a wager, though neither would this , have been found to be " so expressed " in the bond. " Fras. Robynson to G. S. 200^ lent him in form following : that F. R. must gyve me zoo£, for the sayde lO;^ at my coming from Russer, wher one Inglys ship hath byne alredy, 54 Elizabethan Society. and yf I marre before I go thether, then the sayd Fransis must repaye me 20;^ agayne, and Imust give his wyflfe a payer of sieves of velvett, but if I deye he must have it. Fr. Robynson owes me at my daye of marryayge 20^. Francis Bayer to G. S. 4° 2* and is so much he must gyve me yf I have not young Mrs. Lowson unto my wyffe, the forsaide sum, and yf I doo marry her then he is to paye me nothing, and is for 2^ \^ gyven him in money, and he to pay me dubbelir As Stoddard did in fact marry soon after this date, he brought off both these bargains, though it would be too much to say that their terms offered a direct inducement to the thrifty citizen to incur the expense of a young wife. In the following instance also he seems to have known his man, though it is not likely that the " byll " in question contained any mention of the dice, which were in as little favour with the law as usury. " J. Fabyan to Qt. S. &o£, and is for so much p* unto the s* J. F., and is to paye me so much ageyne when I or any other for me do knowe that he doo ever in all his lyffe tyme playe at dyse or tabyll, or put his mone to any youes by eny other man or woman or chylde, wherunto the dyse doo pertayne. And so cloinge on his part not being well keypt he shall forfyt as more playn shall apere by his bill." Another excellent bargain which our grocer made was with this same gentleman, to whom he lent ;^400 on his bond to pay 20 per cent, for it during the lender's life, with a generous permission to retain the principal for ever. In other words, to receive £/yX) and give a bond for ;^8o a year, or five years' purchase. Stoddard, we may mention, contrived to live at least another ten years, as was perhaps to be expected under the circumstances. Stoddard had a house in " Buttelle Lane," which he kept in very good repair with the assistance of the " tyler," " plomer," and other workmen, whose services were frequently called in. Perhaps we should not wonder so much at the durability of most of our old buildings if we knew the sums that were lavished upon their erection and repair. But then domestic The Burgess. 55 architecture was under the control of the State, which also was the one great employer and patron of mechanical genius. Our domestic history of the sixteenth or seventeenth centuries is nowhere richer than in such statistics ; yet we, who pretend to possess biographies of Inigo Jones and Sir Christopher Wren, know nothing of these things. Be this as it may, the condition of his house and its contents was a constant source of satisfaction to Stoddard, for we find him amusing himself with calculations as to what " I might levy in my house in Bouttelle Lane," viz., " In my wyve's counting-house, in the larder-house," etc. During the first decade of Elizabeth's reign, life went very smoothly for George Stoddard. It is true he made bad bargains occasionally, but such events were very rare in his financial history. Thus he accounts for a deficiency " in the waye of monee lente for corne for the city," through the Grocers' Company, which was to be received " whan we can gyt yt." So, too, he lent a considerable sum to a relative, who promised " to paye agayne the next wycke folloinge, w'=!? as yyt I have not rec**, nor knowe not when I shall." Again, he enters a debt from a friend which " I lent him longe senes to pay me agayne when I can gyt yt ; " and in the same way alludes to the price of an " old mare " which he had been persuaded to buy for his sister Marjery. But the worst treatment he experienced in this way Wcis when a certain "Nurse Sturnsand" carried off in triumph for gj. a "rede Spanyshe blankyt" which had cost igj., to which he adds, by way of explanation, " and she alouyed me no mor." Yet his affairs were then most flourishing. In one average year he puts down his liabilities at ;^i,096 ioj., and his assets at £,2,1 i,2, 3 J. 4, and had security in property and bonds for £^1)1^, plus ;^200, and a supplementary £^0, for which the debtor's brother was liable. The next entry tells the history of what followed. " What I have reC? of Francis Ascough : — " Sale of his cloth, \i,^£. " Debts owed to him, 4i3;£', I20.£', and S7£. " For his londes w'^'^ is sold, 300;^. " More he must put in, his brother, H. T. Askow, to paye at 2 yeres, 8o;£'. " So doinge he is all relecyd w^ me from the begynnyng of the world to this daye." Elsewhere we find separate calculations as to the result of this execution, by which it would appear that the usurer had sold up his victim even to his bedsteads and cupboards. Mr. Alderman Lodge had not been very successful in his investments in land. On one occasion he was " evicted and chased " from a manor of which he was the occupier under a will. But he was one of the old school of citizens, and his former apprentice was one of the new school, which was changing the whole face of the land. Such men were content with small beginnings. They would snap up the interest of needy copyholders in the reversion of their customary free- holds, and having thus gained a footing in the soil, they could administer to the necessities of embarrassed landowners, such The Burgess. , 57 as William Darrell, until a whole manor fell within their grasp. Thus Stoddard was a party in a Chancery suit on the following account. A certain copyholder of the manor of Hadley devised his holding, with the approbation of the steward, to his two sons. These being involved in money difficulties sold their interest to another, who for a similar reason sold it to Stoddard. The eldest' son, however, of the deceased tenant claimed possession from the incomer as his father's executor. Stoddard, however, adhered to his right, though lamentably vague as to names and dates — a circumstance which gave great occasion for sarcastic allusions, on the part of his opponent, to the "glass windows" (j.e. blanks) in his bill. On another occasion we find the entry by Stoddard himself of 30J., " P? to Mr. Tymply, stuard of the copyhold lande callyd Cokrells, when he and his wyffe did knoledge yt for my yowse." The last we hear of George Stoddard is in the year 1572, in a case of alleged' breach of contract brought by a London merchant against that worthy and other leading merchants on 'Change, with whom he had insured a ship (above its value we may presume), which was supposed to be lost at the time when the policy fell in, but, being afterwards heard of, the underwriters refused to pay the insurance money, to the great vexation of the owner. We may suppose that Stoddard, like so many of his con- temporaries, lived to enjoy the fruits of his usurious thrift. Probably his heiress married the son of some Court official, who founded a family with a new prestige, derived from the irreproachable union of place with wealth ; and perhaps his grandchildren fought amongst themselves over the prudent citizen's ill-gotten acres.^ Whether this were so or not, Stod- dard's life was only that of many another, who passed in his own day for a clever and successful knave, and who has since been revered as a citizen-patriarch, one of the good old time. ' There are good reasons for believing that this was actually the case. CHAPTER V. THE MERCHANT. Amongst the financial successes of an age unparalleled for its money-making activity, none was more complete or more instructive than that achieved by the founder of the Royal Exchange. Thomas Gresham, however, was no creature of civic fable, no self-made prodigy like Whittington. We can read the history of his life between the lines of account-roll and despatch, pleadings and decree. Perhaps, even, for their sakes and our own, we know too much of his relatives, patrons, and allies ; but then our knowledge will not have been acquired in vain. The great master of exchange, the useful agent of the Crown, the financial adviser of ministers, the oracle of the city, the merchant prince, patron, and benefactor, becomes also, in his inevitable relations to the age in which he lived, an usurer, the son and nephe^ of usurers ; a monopolist, the nominee of corrupt courtiers, and the associate of thievish contractors ; and a landlord, the son, nephew, cousin, husband of a name as foul as any in the annals of oppression, eviction, and plunder. Yet if he were of these he was not like unto them ; and higher praise than this can be awarded to no distinguished Englishman of the latter half of the sixteenth century. Young Thomas Gresham had the best of introductions into commercial life. His father. Sir Richard, and his uncle, Sir John Gresham, were both city magnates, both employed by the Crown in delicate missions on the Continent, such as the payment of the King's debts, the negotiation of fresh loans, or the provision of metals and stores. It was not, however, till the year 1553, when his age was forty, that Thomas 58 The Merchant. 59 Gresham began to serve the Crown permanently in foreign parts. His official engagement was from 1553 to 1557 as H.M. agent in Flanders and other foreign parts, for sundry great and weighty affairs there, with his headquarters of course at Antwerp. In relation to these affairs, we iind him writing to Northumberland, how his uncle. Sir John Gresham, stormed " at the fixing of the rate of interest so low." He also did good service to that body by his zealous champion- ship of the privileges of Merchant Adventurers in their rivalry with both the Hanse Traders and the Merchant Staplers. At Antwerp he would be acquainted with younger agents of the party, such as George Stoddard, as well as with rivals of a bye-gone generation like the Johnsons. Another ministerial correspondent was Devonshire, who, in the next reign, gave him a commission to buy plate to the value of ;^2,ooo or more of our valuation. Mary had suc- ceeded to the English throne a year before ; but Gresham, though attached to the party of progress, kept his post. In fact, he was despatched as a special agent to Spain in September, 1554, and his place was filled during his absence by his uncle and another agent, who continued the serious part of his work ; namely, the settlement of the King's debts. In 15SS, by order of Philip II., Thomas Gresham undertook to raise 46,000 florins towards the pay of Almain mercenaries. From March, 1557-8, to the 17th of November, 1558, under a new term of service, he was engaged in similar transactions. Then followed the accession of Elizabeth. This was a fortunate event for Gresham. His term of service was con- tinued from the 24th November, 1558, to the 26th April, 1562, during which period he was busied in the settlement of the foreign debt and in the negotiation of a new one, besides extensive commissions for the supply of munitions of war. In 1560 he was again assisted by his uncle. Thomas Gresham's position was now assured. He was knighted in 1559, for the value of his services could no longer be concealed. It is true that slight difficulties arose in his dealings with a parsimonious Government, which grumbled at the system of usance, and once returned 6o Elizabethan Society. inferior equipments on his hands. Still he could afford to smile at these petty slights, for he had made interest in high places. Cecil, who just then was- greatly embar- rassed by an extravagant outlay upon his mansion and grounds, was deeply indebted to him. In addition to this, Sir Thomas kept a sort of financial supervision over his patron's hopeful heir, just then abroad upon a linguistic tour under the jealous tutelage of Master Thomas Windebank. Gresham remitted funds to the latter for the expenses of his charge, and on one eventful occasion received them in his house in Antwerp. This was at a critical period of the trip, just after Master Thomas Cecil, stung by the bitter tirades of his father, and inexpressibly bored by the moral harangues of his governor, had threatened to run away. Windebank, terrified at the prospect of what might happen to the morals of his pupil in this dire event, consented to notice some improvement in the behaviour of Mr. Thomas. Perhaps the lad had been sobered by contact with the grave and kindly merchant. In any case, it was determined, to Windebank's relief, that they should give up their visit to Italy, and so Master Thomas escaped the " inticements to pleasure and wantonness " which that delightful country was supposed to hold out. Cecil, however, was so impressed with the doleful forebodings of Windebank that he resolved to marry his graceless offspring the moment he set foot in England. All this was in 1562; from that year Gresham was continued in his post uninterruptedly till 1 574. The Newhaven campaign gave abundant employment to the Queen's agent in Flanders, in the way of contracts for armour, weapons, and stores. In 1565 Gresham was in England, and one of the commissioners for viewing cavalry horses in the county of Middlesex. In the same year, too, he was finding money for the Government with the treasury empty. In 1566 he was surety for the payment of German miners to be brought over for developing the latest craze of the Court in the search of mineral treasures. Thus he was unconsciously responsible for the reading one of the darkest pages of our social history. It was from his party in the City that this ridiculous enterprise received its chief The Merchant. 6i support. The Duysterswyvels of that age were engaged to transmute all the sttata of this island into gold and copper, and their creatures were sent forth to prospect upon the estates of refractory Catholic peers, who were held at bay during the process by the threats and insults of the Queen's favourites. The cautious Cecil alone was not duped ; neither were the English navvies, who beat the outlandish experts into a jelly. The nation perchance paid dearly for its minimum of copper with civil war. Yet, fifteen years later, the City, and Gresham with it, gloated over the flashing quartz brought home by Frobisher ; and the council listened with greedy ears to a nautical tale of strange lands, whose fountains were filled with pearls, and whose rivers ran over golden beds. In 1568 Gresham received the Cardinal Chitillon in his London and country houses. At this time he was making great provision of building material for Cecil, and was acquiring for himself the riverside manors of the attainted Duke of Somerset. He could claim the exercise of patron- age, too, by demanding official posts for members of his family. During 1570 and 1571 he was especially active. The Royal Exchange was opened, and he was providing stores for the Government, raising loans in Antwerp, Hamburg, and Cologne, and upholding the interests of the Merchant Adventurers against the Staplers, who, now that the wholesale production of raw wool in England was a thing of the past, naturally desired freedom to export rough cloth like other people. In the former year, however, a cloud gathered over his household out of that which was intended as a mark of confi- dence from the Government. To his keeping was committed the third sister of the unfortunate Greys, Lady Mary, who had made a stolen marriage with the Queen's Sergeant Porter. No sooner had Gresham received this odious charge, than he desired, to his lasting credit, to be rid of it, and he wrote to that effect to Burghley. Probably Gresham did not greatly relish either the political or worldly condition of his captive guest. All men who valued their interests shrank from a 62 Elizabethan Society. contact with the whole race of Greys and Seymours, as though this younger strain of the Blood Royal bore in it the taint of leprosy. That astute peer, Pembroke, had long before allowed himself to be divorced from the second of those charming sisters to marry "Sydney's sister." More- over, in spite of some slight concessions by the Crown, the circumstances of the family were extremely reduced, and probably the Lady Mary came to Gresham House in no better plight than that which was so frankly described by Her Grace of Suffolk. All this must have seemed very shocking to Gresham, after he had with characteristic precision made an exact calculation of his prot^gie's income. Perhaps he even spoke his mind to her upon the subject, for we find her writing bitterly to Cecil about her dependent position, and even hinting that it would be better if she could earn her own living. Then there was another draw- back. The charms which had seduced the official gravity of the Sergeant Porter were viewed with jealous eyes by Gresham's lady. This latter embarrassment was what no doubt weighed most with our merchant when he renewed his application to the Government at every opportunity. This was at first acceded to, but nothing was really done in the matter. Soon the lady's husband died, and Gresham wrote that she took it very grievously. Thenceforth, at the end of nearly every despatch from him to the Treasury on the usual subject of funds and liquidation, is the monotonous request, " Remember the Lady , Mary." It was once pro- posed that she should go to her father-in-law's ; but another objection arose, as he was a gay widower. At last he married again, but still she did not go. Between 1570 and 1574 Gresham was still actively engaged in raising sums and prolonging debts for the Government. In 157s this official engagement ceased. He could superin- tend the work of his agents and factors, and go to and fro between his house and the Exchange ; but he was old, as he reminded the Government, and also lame with gout, and nearly blind. Gresham, like his patron Burghley, was- a victim to the gout, which he only subdued by the greatest The Merchant. 63 strictness in his diet In 1577, Wilson, the Flemish political agent, writes to Burghley extolling the eflficacy of Rhenish wines for working a cure in this way. He claims for it that it not only comforts the stomach, and relieves humours and rheum, but obviates the unpleasant habit of promiscuous spitting, which seems to have been a symptom of the malady. The great living advertisement of this remedy (for the writer was interested in the German wine trade) is Sir Thomas Gresham, who, if he had drunk only half as much Gascon wine as he has done Rhenish, would not be half so healthy as he is at present — a striking statement certainly, but one scarcely complimentary to Sir Thomas, even in its ambiguity. Gresham's last public appearance (so to speak) was in relation to the fund raised by adventurers for Frobisher's voyage. To this, however, he only subscribed £Zo paid up ; the lead in the enterprise being~taken by Sir Lionel Ducket, with Dr. Dee and other edifying scoundrels. In 1579 Sir Thomas Gresham died, without surviving issue. The question naturally arises, how did Sir Thomas Gresham make a fortune out of his official employment ? His actual salary was 20J. a day, and all extra allowances were supposed only to cover his bare working expenses in journeys, labour, and material. His own private fortune, inherited from his father, was no doubt considerable, but this was chiefly invested in land, nor does he seem ever to have drawn upon it. Yet his working capital must have been enormous, for his credit was practically inexhaustible. The rate of broker- age was not high, \ per cent, and the whole of this did not fall to his share. If any further profit was made by him, it would seem impossible that it should have escaped detection. It will be necessary, however, in order to dispose of this assumption, to glance at the complicated system of accounts kept and submitted by him to the Government. In an average year, such as that of 1562-3, Gresham's account stood as follows. He was charged with various sums out of different branches of the revenue, received from different officers, and with loans which he had negotiated from numerous merchants, the whole amounting in that year 64 Elizabethan Society. to ;^S 5,288 \^s. id. The loans were in different proportions ; but taking one at random, that made by Christopher Prewne, a merchant stranger of Antwerp, it will be found that it amounts to ;^7,ooo sterling. Besides these loans, there were certain sums taken up in Antwerp by exchange ; for it must be remembered that besides the vast political interests of England on the Continent, all of which implied the trans- mission of subsidies, there was a vigorous campaign being carried on in the north of France, which centred in the siege of Newhaven (Havre). Of this latter class of trans- action we may take another sum, ;^3,ooo, negotiated by Gresham. As a set-off", therefore, against the principal of the loan and the credit of the Government above mentioned, Sir Thomas demanded to be allowed for the repayment of the principal (;^ 7,000) plus interest fixed at 12 per cent, amounting altogether to ;^8,i8o 6s. 8d. This loan was to ex- tend over three months, from August isth to November 15th ; but, as was usually the case, double usance was required, and the term prolonged to December isth. As a bonus on this prolongation, Master Prewne received the additional sum of ;^8i 16s., or I per cent., though in many cases as much as 3 per cent, was extorted. In the same way, with regard to the sum exchanged, Sir Thomas was allowed to reckon the 20s. sterling as 22s. 3^., 22s. 2\d., 22s. 2d., 22s. i^d., etc., to recoup himself in the transaction, that increase being then the difference of the exchange. There was also the usual brokerage to be allowed. The security of the Government for the repayment by Gresham of the principal on loans was the return of the bonds to be vacated. When the days of payment fell due, there was a Council of Ways and Means at the Treasury. Some bonds were paid and cancelled ; others were prolonged ; and new ones were issued. When these were ready, the bond was carefully locked up in the Treasury, and the counter-bound posted to the lord mayor, when the city of London was the acceptor. It was one of Gresham's most onerous duties to keep the Treasury up to the mark in the punctual discharge of this routine, red tape being not unknown in 1562. As an example of a transaction The Merchant. 65 on a larger scale, we may take the warrant of the Govern- ment (addressed to Sir Hugh Pawlet) to negotiate ;^ 20,000 by exchange on Antwerp, which was also undertaken in this same year by Gresham. This was in December, when the Government was making desperate attempts to push on operations at Newhaven. The actual sum raised (at a day's notice, all but ;^2,ooo) was £\<^,\ I2J., the loss by exchange on ;£'5,ooo, part of a sum subscribed in London but returned from Antwerp as not covered by the advice, the rate being here about 2\s. 2\d. Gresham's own share in the allowances of his account was considerable. He claimed his own salary at 20J. per diem continuously, and that of four clerks at \s. 4d. ; also a very large sum to defray the expenses of himself and all his agents in travelling, posting, and conveying. His bill for office furniture, paper, etc., was prodigious, and the annual allowance of £76 13J. for the rent of a house in Antwerp must have lodged him very sumptuously during his exile. So far matters had gone smoothly enough with our mer- chant. During this first period of his official career, from 1558 to 1563, he had been allowed the full amount of his claims, and he had even a surplus to the good of more than ;£■ 3,000. Eleven years later, however, at the termination of his employment by the Government, he met with a rebuff from the Treasury which caused a crisis in his fortunes. For the year 1574 Gresham's private ledger showed a satis- factory balance. He had to account for £6^7,^82 12s. 8^d, and he was able to show disbursements for the Government of ;f 648,862 14s. o^d., or nearly ;£■! 1,000 to the good. But previous to this he had presented his official statement up to the 3rd May, 1574, the date at which his' engagement ceased. In this the proportions remained the same, but the balance was reversed, the totals of receipts and allowances being in- creased to ;^677,248 4s. S^d. and £6sg,o<^g 2s. i^d. respectively. Amongst the former were ;^9S,484 los. for Flemish and ;^S 5.175 for English loans. As fast as the Treasury had pro- duced fresh items to swell the charge, Gresham had produced evidence of corresponding disbursements. But in the end, when the totals had reached the respective amounts last stated, Gresham was ;£'i8,i49 is. g^d. to the bad. Against this he was allowed, as was usual, the surplus of his last account, which with other extraordinary allowances reduced The Merchant. 67 the debt to ;^I2,367. On this again he was allowed the difference of the exchange at 22s. 6d., bringing the amount to ^^10,083 1 5 J. 4fi?., less ;^iio (a handsome allowance) for the expense of auditing. It did not seeni possible that Gresham could reduce the deficit any further ; but he had a last card to play, and he threw it boldly down, claiming to be allowed full interest at 12 per cent, and exchange at 22J. 6d. on the principal of his last surplus, which had already been allowed. This interest and exchange alone was found to reach the enormous sum of ;£"! 1,506 i8j. o\d., and would have been still more, but that Gresham only calculated it upon ten years, in recognition of the recent generosity of the Govern- ment in lending him ;^ 5,000 for his private speculations. Besides, he only wanted to clear the account. On his last claim, therefore, Gresham stood with about ^1,400 to the good. The commissioners, however, at once rejected the claim, as they could not well avoid doing, but dropped a hint about the wisdom of an application in other quarters. The fact is, that the Treasury had already made startling discoveries in the details of Gresham's last account, and Burghley himself had handled the document very roughly. The statement, for instance, that acquittances had been handed in for large sums, lent by the Adventurers and Staplers, was struck out without comment. So was another claim for the annual expense of feasting the Queen's creditors. Gresham had charged the symmetrical sums of ;^2,i25 for each of the two items of travelling and posting. The Treasury could not allow more than ;^i,ooo. His own salary and that of four clerks amounted to ;£^5,403 19J. 6d. ; it was found that only two clerks were to be allowed for during the whole eleven years. Another modest claim for ;^i,i25 for journeys and boat-hire to and from the Court to the City was reduced to ;£'5oo. The office expenditure was put in as ^531 5 J., which was quickly altered to ;£'200. The expense of house rent at Antwerp was laid at £666 13J. 4d?. in the account, but the Treasury thought ;£^300 would meet the expense. To those acquainted with the value of money, labour, and commodities in those days, comment on these 68 Elizabethan Society. figures will be needless. The Treasury itself gracefully re- frained from comment. Gresham was not slow in making up his mind to meet the emergency. Like the great diplomatist that he was, he grasped the whole situation and his proper course of action at a glance. He repaired to the official auditor, who was on the point of going into the country for his summer holiday, and blandly asked him if, as all his (Sir Thomas's) papers and accounts were in his keeping, he would oblige by lending the duplicate of the official account during his own vacation, the authentic account being even then under critical examina- tion by the Commissioners. The official readily complied with this request, and started for his holiday. Immediately Gresham caused the usual concessory foot-note to be added ■ to this imperfect document, setting forth the statement and allowance of his claim for interest and exchange on the surplus, already rejected, and posted off to Kenilworth, where the Queen was now being royally entertained by Leicester. Her Majesty was just then in the granting mood ; the favourite was all-powerful ; Gresham had found means to secure his good offices ; and the account was passed in consider- ation of his former services. Armed with the royal sanction. Gresham obtained the signatures of the Commissioners, who, to judge from their names, were probably in attendance at the Court. These were Burghley, Leicester, Walsingham, Mild- may, and Knolles, and all were well disposed at heart to the royal merchant. Judge then the surprise of the worthy auditor, when he returned from his holiday, to find that the duplicate account, with a foot-note added in an unknown hand, had been already signed instead of the original. He was eventually compelled to fill in the account, which should have sealed Gresham's fate, from the once worthless double which had now become, pending its engrossment, the authori- tative record of the disposition of six millions (present value) of public money. It is not too much to say that Gresham was ;^io,ooo (;^6o,ooo) to the good by the successful issue of his mission. He had received this sum, and had not accounted for it. What further share he secured of the The Merchant. 69 plunder we can only estimate by his private wealth. At least we need no longer wonder how official fortunes could be amassed under Elizabeth. Sir Thomas Gresham's widow was the executrix, and benefited largely by the disposition of his property. The munificent bequests which were carried out under his will are well known. It is possible, however, that his bereavement by the loss of his heir had much to do with this public generosity. He had little interest in continuing the family name. He was not on the best terms with his lady, or he might have adopted her son by a former marriage — for, like so many of his contemporaries, he had wedded a richly jointured widow. His heir-at-law was his cousin, William Gresham, son of his uncle, Sir John, but he was both amply provided for already, and also of no good repute either in his own family or with the world. Perhaps it was disappointment in the character of this son that led Sir John Gresham also to devote a con- siderable part of his wealth to charitable uses. At any rate, his wishes in this respect were not respected by the former, who, after his father's death, attempted to repudiate Sir John's benefaction to the county with which he was chiefly connected as a landowner. This was the foundation of the Norwich school, under the guardianship of the keepers and commonalty of the Mystery of Fishmongers, for the " solicitous instruction and teaching of children and young men in grammar for ever." William Gresham had not only succeeded to immense estates as his father's heir, but to still greater landed property as the heir-at-law of his cousin Sir Thomas ; for many manors had been strictly entailed by Sir Richard Gresham. As a landowner the new head of the family was extremely unpopular. He was engaged in scandalous litigation on all sides. Sometimes it was with a religious corporation from whom he had withheld his rent. At another with commoners whose rights he had confiscated by wholesale inclosures. He sold property to one without a sufficient title, and harassed another in the Chancery to be relieved from an inconvenient bond. Moreover, he was at constant feud with his cousin's tenants and mortgagees, asserting his claims under a supposed yo Elizabethan Society. entail by Sir Richard. We can hardly wonder that Sir Thomas Gresham should have preferred the claim of his native city to those of such an heir, especially when he could enjoy the additional satisfaction of reproducing upon a chosen site the familiar Exchange of his beloved Antwerp. It is also not improbable that Sir John Gresham's heir shared the stigma attaching to the name of a successful and not over- scrupulous agent of the Crown. A contemporary satirist indeed wrote the " Epitaph of that base and sordid usurer, Sir John Gresham, knight of the dung-hill, buried in hell." But this was petty malice. Sir Thomas Gresham himself did not fare much better in his relations to the land, and his widow was involved in more important lawsuits herein than perhaps another of her contemporaries. His mother, too, during her widowhood had similar experiences, and collisions occurred even between members of the family. Sir Thomas Gresham found himself disseised of manors to which his title, derived through his father as grantee of the Crown, was disputed by the repre- sentatives of the original owners. This happened chiefly in the case of dissolved monastery lands, and was a penalty which many other owners had to pay for their ill-gotten possessions. Upon his death, Gresham's widow was engaged in suits in a dozen different counties with tenants, copyholders, neigh- bours, or claimants. At one time it was a steward whose accounts were not properly adjusted ; at another time a ser- vant of her late husband sued her for wages withheld. She was at law about lands bought by Sir Thomas from Robert, Earl of Leicester, and William Darrell of Littlecote ; whilst she had an action against the former's brother, the Earl of Warwick, for infringing a patent for casting ordnance- Meanwhile, careless of her husband's memory, she allowed the Royal Exchange to fall into grievous decay, and suffered a severe reprimand on this score from the Council, with a threat of the Queen's displeasure ; for she was bound to repair by the terms of the founder's will. The citizens of London, on the other hand, only wished that she might live long enough to appoint a mathematical reader for her hus- ^/^Vr^LvtMA^; x^a c^'' -,i?.^. ^-4 ^ o The Merchant. 71 band's college. After her death her son was engaged in fresh litigation. It was not by her means that the name of Gresham is still associated with pleasant memories. We need not, however, alter our opinion of Sir Thomas Gresham's cha- racter from anything that we may unexpectedly learn to his disadvantage. Those only whose imperfect narration will never be changed for the historic present of modern research need to grieve thereat. To them Whittington will always remain a " marvellous boy," and to them Sir Thomas Gres- ham also will continue the evangelist of exchange and the spontaneous millionaire who (it is whispered with an uneasy consciousness that the same story has been told elsewhere) dissolved a priceless pearl in the goblet which he drained on a certain great occasion. In sober truth, however, Gresham was neither better nor worse than the age made him. To say that he was honoured and respected by his contemporaries does not necessarily- prove that he was a great or a good man ; and the fact of his obtaining great riches does not like- wise convey the assumption that they were honestly got. Most people assume both points, presumably through igno- rance of the manners and morals of any age, not excepting their own. There was one requisite to safety and success at the court of Elizabeth, and that was self-control. The possession of this virtue was the secret of the success of men like Burghley, Leicester, Pembroke, Popham, Knevet, and Gresham ; and the absence of it the cause of the splendid failures of Sidney, Hatton, Essex, and Raleigh. The contrast is seen in the case of Popham, the impassive and avaricious, sitting in moral judgment upon Raleigh, the covetous and versatile. Raleigh was reminded by the politic chief justice that he might have lived comfortably on the ;^3,000 per annum that he had already sucked out of the country, had not greed and ambi- tion driven him to restless intrigue. The Government of EHzabeth drew the line in official license at indiscreetness and sedition. The .discretion of Sir Thomas Gresham was a better part than Raleigh's madcap valour. CHAPTER VI. THE HOST. Distance of time, perhaps, it is that lends enchantment to every historical view of the past. In that great realm of fiction all things have befallen (to flatter our pride or to serve our purpose) according to the likeness that they have taken from our fancy. We, or rather our poets for us, have cleansed and shaved a race of filthy savages ; have put armour over their war-paint ; girt them with lance and sword, instead of dart and dirk, and set them on chargers which must have differed greatly from the modern breed of forest pony; and to their charge have committed the most sacred symbols of Christianity, whose descendants are scarcely yet quit of the superstitions of devil-worship. Last of all, we have till yester- day styled them our ancestors. We have reckoned our historical progress by wars and pestilences ; the former always just, the latter always fortuitous. Our princes were the fathers of their people, and our churchmen the good shepherds of their flocks. Our wealth was well-gotten, and the land flowed with wine and oil. Every man eat and drank beneath his own roof-tree ; or if he did prefer other cheer which needed no " bush," he sought it in one of these mystic castles, ruled by a governor as courteous as he was liberal ; where the meats were highly spiced, and the drink was blood- red wine ; where poets divine were his boon companions ; where he assisted at plays and pageants which have since been decked for immortality; where all was rare and free, and curious — because it is old. How the times are changed. The Quixotic castle has become a gin-palace; the host an abhorred publican. The victuals are barely licensed; and The Host. 73 the grape has given place to the barleycorn. The players have been once more conducted over the frontiers of society ; the bears are monopolized by the furrier, and the fighting cocks are consumed as capons. Only the divine poet re- mains, and we are changing him like the rest. But how was the airy fabric ever raised ? Why was the old English ale- house thus converted into the temple of the muses, with mine host for its high priest .' Because (it must be answered for us) in a state of what is called civilization, men must have some outlet for their animal natures, if they would shun inward corruption. It was thought better that such as had no family or social ties should confine themselves to recog- nised and suitable localities for the celebration of their orgies. There, if their voices were high, if their speech were lewd, if the liquor ran out of their cheeks, or if they stabbed a comrade in a drunken brawl, what harm was there done? Marry, small harm to the individual and less to the State. The youth who ran armed through the streets, flushed with insolence and wine, were not of the tavern breed of revellers. They were political agitators, reactionists, club-men. Assas- sination with them was another incentive to drink. They spurned against the people, and the people swept them away. What the state of the public peace was, even in the reign of Elizabeth, we may easily gather from the indictments of those who had offended against it and expiated all too easily their offences. The English were notoriously a lawless race. The whole aim of early legislation was directed towards the preservation of order by the maintenance of a strict police. The sanctity of the person was above all things regarded, and the security of property was carefully subordinated to this object. A man's stake in the community was the pledge that he respected the safety of his neighbours, or their bodily health in every aspect. When the first tie of society was broken by his own guilt or negligence, he paid the penalty in his purse — and this was found an effectual deterrent. The litigious spirit which set the claims of property' above the inviolability of the person was an outcome of Norman thought and manners. There have been romantic periods of society, 74 Elizabethan Society: when a man held his life cheaper than his worldly gear. The transition was, however, a momentous one from a period when local self-government busied itself with precautions to satisfy the demands of the individual to consideration in matters of food adulteration, hygiene, locomotion, and the like, to one in which the Crown bore the main weight of this responsibility lightly enough upon its own shoulders — itself the supreme landlord, the jealous guardian of the privileges of property. Let us take a few cases at random under Elizabeth, in \vhich armed violence had a fatal termination. Nottingham. — A man, attacked by another with a stick, drew his knife upon him and stabbed him. Dorset. — A traveller, equipped with a piked staff, ' quarrelled with another, who drew his sword upon him and pursued him till the former was brought to bay by a hedge and impaled his pursuer (inflicting a wound eleven inches deep, as the evidence showed). Monmouth. — A quarrel and fight with staves, Sussex. — A man, pursued by his enemy with a bill, till stopped by a garden wall, stabbed him with a dagger. Norfolk. — A traveller with a piked staff, pursued by one with a black-bill, and stopped by a cart in a narrow lane, turned and slew his pursuer. Kent. — Two sword-and-buckler men fought ; one trying to escape was stopped by a hedge, whereupon he fought it out, and cleft his adversary's skull. Derby. — Five fatal duels with staves. Southampton. — Duel with staves. The party assaulted ran from his adversary till he despaired of his life before he felled him. Cornwall. — One, armed only with a knife, slew his pursuer, armed with a sword, for want of breath to run any further. Sheffield. — Two artisans fought with knives, to the death of one, after the victor had blown himself by running to the top of a hill. Berwick. — A fight with knives, after the insulted party could escape no further for a wall. Essex. — A countryman, employed with a pitchfork, was insulted by another carrying a bill ; but as he fled from his assailant, he was stopped in the field by a tree — to the cost of his pursuer's life. Smithfield. — Affray with swbrds and daggers, after one party had fled till they despaired of their lives. Fleet Street. — A citizen, who was at feud with a neighbour, waited about his door armed with sword and buckler. When his enemy at length " emerged (by a happy chance similarly armed), he found himself violently attacked ; and being impeded in his retreat by a " crowd," faced his enemy and slew him in self-defence. It need not be supposed that in any of these cases the crime was premeditated. At any rate, the presumption that a gross provocation had been received by one entitled to the protection of the King's peace, in the absence of implicating evidence, was enough for a central jurisdiction whose guiding maxim was "hang or pardon." In the old days of blood atonement, life was not taken with such impunity. The Host. 75 We often, however, meet with cases which seem to show the utter recklessness towards the lives of others which pre- vailed among men of hasty temper, resulting in most terrible catastrophies. Northamptonshire. — A girl named Marian, maid-servant to a farmer, was lead- ing a pair of horses with a harrow, walking in front of them. Her master, who was ploughing in the next field, observing that the harrow progressed slowly, stole behind the horses and suddenly belaboured them ; with the result that horses and machine passed over the body of the imfortunate girl, inflicting a horrible death. The provocation pleaded was the laziness of the servant, a plea that was held sufficient. Lincolnshire. — A farmer was ploughing, and a lad leading the horses. As he did not urge them on to his master's satisfaction, the latter, taking up his iron-shod plough staff, aimed a tremendous blow at the head of the near-side horse, which, glancing from his frontal, lighted on the servant's head and killed him on the spot. Here again the brutal homicide escaped, for in the eyes of the law the horse was to blame rather than the man. In the concluding case it is difificult to see how the presumption of intent was avoided. Two men were in a tavern-yard, when (it was admitted) a quarrel, strife, .and blow ensued. But without noticing this further, the narrative proceeds to the effect that one of the parties had in his hand a hand-gun, of the value of 6j. %d. With this he was amusing himself by taking imaginary aim at the tree-tops, etc., out of all possible danger, and so fired the piece ; which, however, did not go off. Thereupon, believing it to be loaded only with powder and brown paper, and seeing that no "fumus" or "sagittacio" took place, the sportsman lowered his piece and proceeded to pick out the touch-hole, when it suddenly went off, and shot the other in "his left side, which then lay unguarded." It is difficult to imagine how the weapon could have been handled in the way described, so as to be pointed at an on- looker's left side. The men must have been facing one another, and the "quarrel, strife, and blow" will explain the rest. There can be no doubt what fuel inflamed this lawless heat. In an earlier age the people fed more on the fruits of the earth than on the beasts of the field, and their beverage was mild in proportion. Fish was enormously consumed, and so, too, were white meat and dairy produce. Tillage on a small scale produced cheap cereals and vegetables. Bacon took the place of beef In fact, bread was cheap and butchers' meat was dear, than which no healthier sign can y6 Elizabethan Society. exist of a nation's welfare. The mass of the people drank grain-beer and cyder; the upper orders and their retainers drank French wines or Rhenish. The change came with the social Renascence of the middle sixteenth century. Tillage was changed for pasture-grazing. Grain was dear, and coarse meat was cheap. Bacon and fish went out of use. Game and poultry became luxuries, and vegetables were practically unknown. The people fed on salt-beef, or roast and inferior mutton, with bad meal ; and this monotonous cheer they washed down with potent liquor. The very ale had undergone a change. The Flemish first practised the art of beer-brewing in its perfection. We benefited by this art, and also by the importation of spices from the East. Now the composition of a tankard of strong ale was as ela- borate as that of burnt sack or negus, and it had all the marvellous effects attributed to it by the dramatist. The wines, too, were the strong, luscious, and fiery vintages of Spain or Italy, rather than the French clarets ; for we had no Gascony now to conciliate, but were content to play the game of Spain against our ancient suzerain. In fact, the Crown, in later times, at least, made a handsome profit by this weakness of its subjects. The Plantagenet- kings had been content to pay their own expenses out of the custom and toll kvied upon imported wines ; that is to say, the supply needed for the royal cellar, or for the expected bounty to Church or Court. In the Tudor period, however, long leases of these customs were granted on terms most advan- tageous to the Crown, and even then the reversion of them was eagerly sought for. The farmers were usually enterpris- ing vintners, who profited by the growing demand for the sweet wines of the Mediterranean, Under Henry VII., the wine trade was not worth more than ;^2,ooo a year to the Crown ; under Elizabeth, at least ;^6,ooo, and as much again to her favoured agents. It cannot indeed be said that the Crown gave open encouragement to the retail sale of liquor ; on the contrary, the general tone of its proclamations tended to the suppression of superfluous taverns, while local option was anticipated by carefully limiting their number by statute. The Host. 'J J But, unfortunately, what the Crown did with one hand, it undid as rapidly with the other. Neither central nor local government could endure that prices should be left to the adjustment of demand and supply, and thus, as in the case of all similar interventions, the legislators defended their own object. When the sale of drink was unrestricted, the demand exceeded the always uncertain supply, and prices rose, prohibiting excessive indulgence ; but when the demand was arbitrarily checked, prices fell of necessity, and the worst class of consumers found ,the means of gratifying their appetites. The history of Sir Walter Raleigh's wine licenses is a good instance. In his tripartite indenture, with power to license any taverns anywhere above those determined by Act of Parliament, to a convenient number, he grants to A. B., of , to keep one tavern or wine- cellar there, or to sell in his own house, or anywhere in the said town, etc., wholesome wine at his own price, any law, statute, etc., notwithstanding. Provided always that French wines such as Gascon, Guyon, etc., which may be bought for ;^ii a tun, or less, shall not be sold above i^ 4"^ per gallon ; and sweet wines, such as sacks, malmseys, etc., bought at £B a butt, not to be retailed at more than 2' per gallon. Mus- , catel only to be sold "at his or their moste profite and commoditie," any statute, etc., notwithstanding. Practically, however, this bonus on the sweet and heady wines of Spain, Italy, and Greece, together with extraneous causes, sent up the price of the lighter French wines. When Wild Darrell sent out for a quart of claret from the Bell, 6d. was the lowest price ever charged for it. The enforced demand for the former class of vintage also was the cause of its adultera- tion. Spanish wines, we learn, were " doctored " in Holland, as they may be to this day at Bordeaux. Thus a corre- spondent of John Johnson, the Staple merchant, writing at the beginning of this reign, commissions him to send over " xv or XX buttes of sackes yf you may have them that drinke not of the Romanye, and that be not brued in Zeland syns ther comyng over, at v li x^ or so." It is, indeed, very easy to trace the political leaning which 78 Elizabethan Society. influenced the commercial transactions of this country with regard to wine, as well as other commodities. When Henry VIII. invaded France, his army was primed with the vintages of his Spanish allies. No trade was more lucrative than that of a Spanish merchant who imported sacks and canarys. We even find Elizabeth's agents in the States puffing the Protestant "Rennish" and also the Spanish sacks, "brued in Zeland since their coming over," at the expense of the wines of France, to whose use they attribute a variety of maladies which their own forefathers certainly never experienced. But then the times had altered ; the vintage that had cooled the heat of the real conquerors of France was not priming strong enough for their descendants, who sat as the models of Bar- dolph and Pistol ; and the flagon emptied at Chaucer's Tabard, appeared bilt " thin potations " to Mistress Quickly's guests in Eastcheap. In truth, their canarys was " a mar- vellous searching wine," but its effects were scarcely credit- able either to the Government or the nation. In one aspect, as we hinted before, the tavern served a useful purpose. Just as the sanctuary made an admirable penitentiary, and the monastic hospitium anticipated the necessity for a poor-house, so the ancient ale-house, while it pandered to one vice of society, at least covered its naked hideousness. It is a remarkable fact, that though a tavern brawl had rarely a fatal ending, yet when bloodshed did happen, when a wretch broke his fellow's skull with a pewter pot or brass candlestick, he seldom escaped the full penalty of his crime. It would probably be impossible now to form a right esti- mate of the number of inns, taverns, ale-houses, or cook-shops in proportion to the requirements of the population. In an earlier age, they were Certainly not in excess of the wants of the traveller or consumer ; but the sudden change in the social life of the nation, from the pursuits of agriculture, that is, to the manufacture of the wool which was formerly imported raw, and the disappearance of the religious hospice, may have had a greater effect than we know of. Even such a tem- porary influence as the licensing of extra taverns by patentees The Host. 79 of the Crown such as Sir Walter Raleigh must have swelled the aggregate enormously. We have perhaps a thousand of Raleigh's licenses, and three times that number may have been issued, giving an increase, from this one source alone, of some 300 per annum. Contemporary literature and topo- graphy, so far at least as they can be trusted, entirely support this hypothesis. The ale-house and its congeners were in- deed singularly amenable to the central or local authority. If a man was "wanted," the innkeepers could be made to furnish a description of all suspicious guests. This latter expedient, of course, was chiefly resorted to for State motives, to discover the lurking-place of some rash Spanish or Italian immigrant, " suspected to be an horrible Papist." For or- dinary purposes, it was thought enough to regulate the number of licensed houses and insure the observance of due sobriety. Mine host might not get drunk himself, nor allow any of his guests to assume that abnormal condition ; to facilitate which no " tippling " was permitted except during the recognised dinner-hour. Offences against these provi- sions were punishable by fine and imprisonment in the stocks. Moreover, every innkeeper was ordered to place in his rooms a breviat for the information of his guests in the matter of the better observation of fish-days. " What's a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent 1 " Mistress Quickly com- plained. The non-observance of these fast-days, however, was no slight matter. Not only did the fisheries suffer in consequence, but the benefits of an occasional variation of the interminable diet of salt-beef and bad beer must have been incalculable. The obligations of the Crown towards one class of its subjects may not have been economically imperative, but a patriarchal Government was bound to cour suit the welfare of each. Yet the fishery question mattered little by the side of that of the sanitary condition of a people who, already decimated by the foulest of diseases, continued blindly to derive their chief subsistence from flesh which did not satisfactorily assimilate salt, less wise herein than their fathers. The people themselves were chiefly entrusted, as usual, with the execution of this edict. In every ward of 8o Elizabethan Society. London, for example, a jury was sworn, and charged by the alderman, for the true inquisition of killing, selling, dressing, or eating of flesh this present Lent, contrary to the laws and statutes of this realm and Her Majesty's proclamation and express commandment. In accordance with this they make diligent search, divers and sundry times, in all Inns, Tabling-houses, Taverns, Cook-houses, and Victualling-houses, within their ward. After such diligent search they either resolve that they have not hitherto found any to ofifend against these laws, or they present the names of others who have so offended to the ofificer. The Innkeeper, however, paid somewhat dearly for this recognition of his social importance. Whenever funds were urgently needed for some work of national importance, besides contributions from the clergy, impositions on ship- ping, licenses for exporting grain, benevolences, loans from city companies, and other noted expedients, a license re- imposed on every tavern or ale-house was sure to be resorted to. Thus, on the occasion of the projected repair of Dover harbour, a work of the first importance and magnitude, when the Government was at its wits', end for money, it acted on a former suggestion of the disinterested citizens of the port in question, and levied a rate upon the licenses of all the ale-houses throughout the kingdom. This was in 1 577. In July 20th of that year the order was made by the Council for the return of an exact account of the number of inns, ale- houses, and taverns throughout England, with a view to levy- ing a tax on them towards the cost of repairing Dover harbour. This tax was rated at 2s. 6d. for every new license granted to such houses of entertainment. It is needless to add that all existing licenses were declared void at a few months' notice. An exaction of this kind was not only profit- able at the time, but was also useful as a precedent for future emergencies. Thus, a few years later, we find the citizens of Canterbury petitioning for a grant out of impositions on ale-houses towards the improvement of their commerce. The returns made in obedience to the above order are very instructive. In the large and populous county of The Host. 8 1 Norfolk, for instance, containing the third city of the king- dom, there were 480 houses. In an unevenly populated county such as Stafford, 105. In a thinly populated and barren district like the Scotch borders, the east and middle marches, there were as many as 238. In Middlesex itself there were actually ^y6; namely, 132 inns, 24 taverns, and 720 ale-houses. It was the latter, the " tippling houses " of the time, tha;t gave most offence to the sober. The inn or tavern, where it was not used merely as a wine-cellar, was the genuine descendant of the old hospice. The Tabard, Tabred, or Talbot, even, as it was sometimes called, was one of the ancient hostelries which flanked the great southern road where it widened up to the foot of London Bridge. This was the house that received, and actually accommodated, Chaucer's Canterbury pilgrims and many another company bound on the same pious mission, though none, we may well believe their host, " so mery." , The arrangements of this inn about the middle of Elizabeth's reign would be much the same as those of any other hostel on the same scale. On the ground floor, looking on to the street, was a room called ",the darke parlor ; " a hall, and a general reception room, called " the parlor." This was pro- bably the dining-room of the house, as it opened on to the kitchen on the same level. Below the dark parlour was a cellar. On the first floor above the parlour and the hall were three rooms, " the middle chamber," " the corner chamber," and " Maister Hussyes chamber," with garrets or " cook- lofts " over them. Above the great parlour was another room. There were also rooms called " the Entry chamber," and " the Newe chamber," "the Flower de Luce," and "Mr. Russell's chamber," the position of which is not specified. A ware- house, presumably under a separate roof, a coal-hole, and an oven-house, a double stable with an oat-loft over it, and a similar stable with a hay-loft over it. The host of such an inn as the Tabard, with his family and guests, was not very sumptuously accommodated in the matter of furniture. But then the requirements of the establishment were easily satisfied. There would be a large assortment of G 82 Elizajbeihan Society. brass and copper kettles, pans, pots, and basins. Brass or latten candlesticks, chafing-dish, and mortar. Also tongs, pot-hooks, and irons ; gridiron, frying-pan, dripping-pan, and steamer. In the still more important pantry- department we should find a plentiful gradation of pewter pots, from the pottle down to the gill ; glasses, stone galley-pots, and trenchers. The provision of linen, however, would be lavish even according to modern ideas. In a contemporary house we find thirteen pair of sheets ; 15 tablecloths of damask and diapers ; 3 cupboard cloths ; 5 dozen and 2 table napkins ; 6 dozen napkins of damask, diaper, holland, cut-work, and lead-work; 22 hand-towels; 11 towels of the same quality as the napkins ; and 7 pillow-cases. With regard to sleeping accommodation, there were joined bedsteads, with feather, flock, standing, or settle beds ; bolsters, pillows, blankets, and coverlets. The remaining furniture included cupboards, side- boards, chests, tables, chairs, stools, and forms. Often, too, there were a few pictures and the universal hangings. The host himself was no longer the host of Chaucer, the portly and flourishing vintner, the fairest burgess in Chepe. The number of members had far outgrown the limits of that company, and many carried on the trade who were wholly unconnected with the guild. Thus in the year 1584 the freehold of the Tabard was in the hands of Robert Mabbe, citizen and goldbeater of London, who also owned a garden and a messuage " adjacent to the backsyde thereof," called the "Abbot's Lodging." This property had descended to him from his father, John Mabbe, who had at one time encum- bered it ; and in the same manner the son pledged it as part security for ;^iooo which he owed to a gentleman with the attractive name of Aphabelle [Affable] Partridge. Nearly twenty years later an execution for this debt was levied under a writ of Elegit on the Tabard, which thus passed from its old owners. The circumstance is of interest because a modern and highly original Shakesperian scholar, having got hold of part of this story, has evolved therefrom a charming souvenir of the Elizabethan drama, in which the buxom hostess of the Tabard, as the wife of John Mabbe, suggests The Host. 83 to the divine bard of Stratford and Southwark (then, by the way, unborn) a delicate fairy image, hight " Queen Mab," as a feature of a forthcoming play. And this in sober earnest, as though " Mab," " Puck," and all the rest had not been pure Keltic for a thousand years. We find by the returns from the shires in 1577, that the average ale-house keeper formed one of the poorest and most squalid classes of the community. This was especially true of the country sort, as indeed it may be held to be in the present day. In London, perhaps, the taverner was rather objectionable in another aspect. Here the host himself, unless actually a professed vintner or cook, was nominally a member of some other trade guild — a cloth-worker or the like — and left the supervision of the inn business to his good wife. A host of this kind, a sleeping partner in the trade, might too often be ranked as either a parasite or an usurer. He used his sociable position to entrap unwary spendthrifts with expectations. He lodged them or boarded them ; he advanced them money for their dissipations ; he even interested himself in their affairs, and transacted their legal business, or overlooked their property. All this he would patiently perform on the strength merely of a certain security. But when the proper moment arrived, when the heir came to his own, or the bond could be . renewed no more with safety, then the rash youth had reason to repent of his confidence. Cases of this kind were very common. Sometimes it was the gentleman's gentleman or courtier's page who had run up a bill at the Rose and Crown while his lord was following the Court, and whose clothes and trinkets werp seized and sold at the valuation of his landlord's gossip, to satisfy the debt. Then there were such cases as the following. The owner of the " Castell " inn, without Smithfield Bars, held an advantageous lease of some grounds adjacent, called the "Fernefield," from a certain gentleman of position, Thomas Chichely, Esq. The latter, who was advanced in years, was a frequent visitor at his tenant's establishment, where he spent most of his latter days, and where he re- ceived every care and attention. His host lent him money §4 Elisubethfin Society. when he required it, and his hostess made him savoury- meat at the cost of an enormous outlay in spices, and ordered in for him runlets of " Rennish " wine, " and besides did serve his torne and occupye and dispose herself at his pleasure." Master Chichely, however, had not, like Falstaff, " practised upon the easy -yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve his uses both in purse and in person." The pair after- wards admitted that they had thus humoured the old gentle- man with a view to the renewal of their lease. Moreover, the property itself was a security, the reversion of which they already counted on. Thus matters continued till Thomas Chichely died. Thereupon the same specious attentions were lavished afresh upon his heir. The latter received money to help him bury his father. More money was lent to his wife, who accompanied him to London. The young couple, with their servants and horses, were lodged and entertained. The old family house in St. John's Lane was put in a state of repair ; the roof new-guttered, and the outbuildings re-tiled. An immense stock of wood and coal was laid in, and everything made comfortable, at the expense of the landlord of the Castle. More than this, all the legal and personal expenses connected with the administration of the deceased squire's estate were defrayed by his host; and when the latter was disabled by illness, he paid a deputy, " who travailed at his affairs in my stead, being then visited w'. sickness." At last, when the heir had settled down into the enjoyment of his property, his obliging entertainer presented an account for all the disbursements made on his own or his father's behalf. It is sad to relate, however, that the younger Chichely found this reckoning so little to his taste that he called his host an usurer, and flatly refused to pay. We do not know the result of the contest ; but at least we may be sure that mine host had made good his security, and probably the coveted " Fernefield " was annexed to the freehold of that hospitable establishment, the Castle inn, without Smithfield Bars; Cases of this kind were not confined to London only. The shires, which had their village usurers, had also their village 'pandars, though the means of evil were not here so ready to The Host. 8 5 their hands. The following case is nearly a repetition of the one last mentioned. A young profligate was maintained by a Chester tavern-holder, and all his wants and extravagances freely catered for on the understanding of a liberal settlement " when he came to his living." The guest lodged with a mercer, but " tabled," with his wife and servants, at the inn. This mattered little, however, for the host had to find the money for his lodgings, as well as for the bill he inevitably ran up for silks and finery from the worthy mercer's shop. This continued for two years, in which time the young gentle- man spent rather more on his own " table " than his wife and the servants together. Besides this, their host paid for a grey gelding, and the keep and shoeing of this and another horse. Then there was money lent the heir at divers times,. notably when he came to Chester Assizes with the squire, his father. At this time he was cast in an action, and the host had to pay the sheriff's costs and the lawyer's fees. Again more money was forthcoming " when he came to Wryme Hill cock fyght w'. his father ; " and more still in order that he might. go " to the boules to my coz. Manering." Another important item was ale, both "when he entertained his father and a., company," and "at other times." There were also several payments " for a servant to ride into Leycestershire," the object of which seems to have been merely to order and bring home something special in the way of " white hose lined w^ sarsenett" Before, however, the heir came to his living, such as his father, whose example he seems only to have emulated, would have left it to him, matters came to an issue between the host and himself. This circumstance was perhaps unfor- tunate for the former, though no doubt at the worst he recovered his outlay. From the above account of Elizabethan inns we may not be able to gather much that can be counted in their favour ; yet once more we should not forget that they were but an expedient of the times. The social habits of the people had been suddenly and violently changed ; and, as a natural result, they became restless, lawless, and thriftless. Their brains were turned by the religious excitement and political S6 Elizabethan Society. activity amidst which they lived, followed surely by a terrible reaction. This is why the voice of the nation tolerated taverns, for the same reason that the Chinese tolerate opium dens, and Shakespeare wrote, " Measure for Measure." This also may be why we who are too far advanced to tolerate anything, look back with curious eyes on those venerable institutions whose like can hardly now be endured among us. But then they are not old. PART III. AT THE COURT. Henry VII. (From an iHiHat Letter in an Inrolled Account.) Margaret, Countess of Richmond. (From a Contemporary Initial LetUr.) Henrt VIII. (From a Design for Original Leflers Patent in the sol* year, supposed to he hy Holbein. <^! S^'^^^ ^) James VI. (Front a Contemporary Drawing in the State-Paper Office.) Plate IV. A TUDOR FAMILY GROUP. CHAPTER VII. THE COURTIER. Our ideal of a courtier in any, but especially in an Eliza- bethan age, is, in truth, a somewhat impossible one. To readers of memoirs and despatches (and even of modern periodicals) the statesman is no mere creature of flesh and blood, with worldly cares and social aspirations. His aims may be visionary, and his genius misdirected, but his ambi- tion is never sordid or his, actions commonplace in the eyes of his fellow-subjects. He is successful and great, or he is great and unfortunate ; but as a man amongst men, as one who must in all events live himself and raise the worldly fortunes of his house to the level of his own temporal position, as such, we have in all times steadfastly refused to regard him. The result has been that our courtier has ceased to belong to himself or to his own ; that his congenital identity is com- pletely effaced, and that his character is only good or bad as it regards his sovereign and his country. The view of a statesman who should neglect his family, oppress his tenants, or plunder his neighbours, is too. remote to be entertained. He stands or falls with the result of the statecraft of his party — his country's relations with foreign powers, or its own material prosperity. It would be impossible for any serious historian to depart from this treatment of his subject. A writer who should deliberately represent Leicester as a veri- table Bluebeard, or Cromwell as a grotesque hypocrite in the bosom of his family, would be scouted for a pitiful libeller of the eccentricities of greatness. Such imputations are the legitimate expedients of party warfare, and to this region of literature we say that they should be relegated. 89 90 Elizabethan Society. None the less, it is undoubtedly of interest to review, after the decent interval of three centuries, any stray facts con- , nected with the personal history of a public character when- ever the rare chance presents itself of deriving these from original and authentic sources of information. Otherwise we may paint our hero pretty well any colour we please out of the liberal assortment of ingredients prepared for our use by the professional diarist of successive periods of society. The wisest and the surest method, however, is to. treat the person in question as only a representative Englishman of his times, to watch him marry and give in marriage, buy and sell, and (literally) eat and drink with other men ; for to trace the family connections and social position of any individual in the past is the only satisfactory means of ascertaining his actual relations with the age in which he lived. There is also another class of courtier, the suitor or depen- dant, the prot^gi or hanger-on of greatness. This is the species which has furnished the types best known to us, all of a more or less degraded character, as though they were designed as foils to their betters. But both classes will come under our notice here in their proper places, Sir Francis Walsingham, Elizabeth's Secretary of State, married early, in the reign of that Queen, Ursula, widow of Sir Robert Worsley. By that lady he had a daughter, Frances, as^good a match as any at the English Court. Of about the same age with her was Penelope Devereux, daughter of Walter, the poor Earl of Essex. The latter of these maidens married wealth and ugliness in the person of Lord Rich. The former, two years later, was wedded to the poorest and most accomplished gentleman of the age, Sir Philip Sidney. Neither, however, married for love, a motive indeed which was then rarely considered at all in regard to ' such alliances. The young Sidney was once looked upon as a possible suitor for the hand of Mistress Penelope. There can be little doubt that he entertained a real passion for her. But both were poor, so the lady was contracted by her guar- dian (sold, the sentimentalists say) to a wealthy baron, while the son of the ruined Lord Deputy of Ireland married the The Courtier. gr great heiress, Frances Walsingham. The famous sonnets upon Astrophel and Stella were written, we are often reminded, on the eve of the poet's marriage with the fair lady of his choice, and therefore could but have been an exercise in those Platonic doctrines held in such favour by his royal and learned mistress. These apologists, however, have forgotten another circumstance of the case. Sidney had a rival for Frances Walsingham's hand in a youth named Wickerson. This young gentleman was heavily punished for his ambitious love by a sojourn in the Marshalsea, where he addressed a most touching appeal to his mistress's father. This was February, 1583; in March, Frances Walsingham was married to Philip Sidney. The lover of Penelope Rich certainly did not find his " heart's desires " in wedlock. He chose to find his high ideal of a woman in his married sister Mary, Countess of Pembroke, and gave his romantic imagination free scope in writing her "Arcadia." When he had been two years married, and just before he became a father, he was burning to visit the ends of the earth with Drake. Then he passed over to the Continent, and perished, the high-souled victim of his own rash enterprise — Argalus, but without a Parthenia. Dame Frances Sidney, strangely enough, married again, Robert, second Earl of Essex, the brother in arms and affection of her late husband. Their son Robert was the famous general of the Parliament,, first husband of the aristo- cratic adulteress and murderess, Frances Howard. Less particular in his second choice, the Lord-General married an illegitimate grand-daughter of the Paulets, whose family estates he had assisted in confiscatingi There was another curious tie between the families of Sidney and Devereux. Essex had married the daughter-in-law of Sir Henry Sidney. His father's widow married that knight's brother-in-law, Robert, Earl of Leicester. This was Lettice, daughter of Sir Francis KnoUes, and she has been even sus- pected of poisoning one husband to marry another. Her first husband, Walter Devereux, who revived the honours of the Bourchiers, was a good soldier but an unsuccessful courtier. Essex's embarrassments must at one time have been consider- 92 Elizabethan Society. able, which his literary attainments probably at no time were ; both of which facts may be gathered from the letter (which has not, it is believed, before been printed) given below. This nobleman's daughter, Penelope, who had married Sidney's " Rich " rival, agreed worse with her lord than her lover did with his wife. She had a liaison with Sir Chris- topher Blount, which the sentimentalists have agreed to palliate by the excuse of a real passion, though if the amours of a married heroine are equally to be excused on the grounds of their being at one time Platonic, and at another delight- fully romantic, it is difficult to see what room remains for guilt. These relations, however, according to the above, led to a happy marriage between the divorcee and her lover, created (by them) Lord Mountjoy in 1600. Unfortunately, however, the heralds give us another version of the story, in which the lady, after bearing several illegitimate children to Charles Blount, Lord Mountjoy, marries that nobleman, then created Earl of Devon, in or about the year 1605. If, there- fore, this second marriage actually took place, the first could scarcely have been an edifying one. More curious still is the fact that Sir Christopher, the Arcadian lover of the neglected Penelope, had himself espoused the somewhat disreputable relict of the two Earls of Essex and Leicester. We find Sir Christopher Blount and Dame Lettice, his wife, widow of Robert, Earl of Leicester, engaged in a Chancery suit by bill of revivor with Thomas Dudley and others to recover the capital messuage called Leycester House, with tenement, shops, and houses appertaining thereto, situate in the parish of St. Clement without Temple Bar, formerly the estate of the co- petitioner's late husband. Thus it would appear that the relations between the parties were, to say the least, somewhat mixed. But if the sentimentalists are sincerely convinced that their heroine married her mother's widower (the seducer of his own wife's daughter), they are heartily welcome to their theory. Sir Henry Sidney married, as his third wife, Mary Dudley, daughter of John, Duke of Northumberland, and sister of the The Courtier. 93 future Earl of Leicester. The latter, while still Lord Robert Dudley, with the usual fate of an adventurer, was concerned in a good many discreditable transactions, driven thereto by poverty and ambition. A certain John Littleton (afterwards Sir John, the head of an old Worcester family) happening according to his own account, to be in the city, and being there credibly informed that Lord Robert Dudley intended to sell the site and lands of " his late dissolvent monastery " in payment, as the rumour had it, of his large debts, and going to the court of St. James, met there Lord Robert, and questioned him concerning the truth of the report. There- upon Lord Robert replied that he was "mynded and no lesse than enforced to do so " ; and, indeed, had already ordered the sale. Then John Littleton, being a poor kinsman of his lordship, of his great love and affection for him, begged that he would keep the lands and permit him to advance 200 marks for " a year, two, three, or longer, as he myght con- venyently repaye the same " ; and he had little doubt that other devoted friends would do the like, and so subscribe the amount of his debts ; or, in plain words, offered him a mortgage upon the property in question. For this generous offer Lord Robert gave him great thanks, but "his debtes be so grete" that he must sell the whole property without reserve ; and so parted from him. After whose departure, Littleton stood musing long how foolish it was in Lord Robert to reject his offer ; that, too, the monastery in ques- tion was in his own parish, and curiously enough adjoining his own premises, so that it was "very necessary to his housekeepyng, and like to be very noisome if any stranger sh"! obtayne it." In fine, he sent immediate word to Dudley to crave preferment of purchase if the place must be sold. The result was that two retainers, George Tuckey and another, came down to his house at Frankley, in Worcester- shire, to conclude the purchase. But when he learnt that part of the property was already engaged to be sold or leased in small parcels, this kind-hearted kinsman became " discouraged " in his purpose ; but at length he contrived to secure what he was led to believe was the whole estate. 94 Elizabethan Society.. and also a great bargain. Eventually, however, he discovered that a most essential parcel of the property, amounting to a yearly rent-charge of £26 6s. Bd., had already been settled on Dame Anne Dudley, Lord Robert's wife, and that he had in reality concluded a most disadvantageous bargain, having been fairly outwitted by the courtier. The Dame Anne Dudley, here mentioned in a contemporary record, was Leicester's first wife, the unfortunate Amy Robsart, as she is commonly called. It may be noticed, in passing, that the name Amy — presutning that it occurs in contemporary manu- scripts of authority — is an extremely rare one. It is obvious how easily the name Aime might be read for Anne ; and though, of course, there must be colour for the existing spelling, it is undeniable that the lady in question was styled Dame Anne Dudley in a strictly contemporary document. After the Earl of Leicester's death, Sir John Littleton and George Tuckey before mentioned contrived to get hold of these jointure lands, which had been demised by the earl to Arthur Robserte, probably a relative of his injured wife. Leicester himself divorced his second wife, Douglas Howard, to marry Dame Lettice Devereux, and bastardized his only son Robert, an accomplished gentleman, whose treatment at the hands of the Crown forms one of the greatest scandals of the Court of James I. Sir Henry Sidney's daughter by Leicester's sister became the third wife of Henry, second Earl of Pembroke. William, the first earl, had married Anne, sister of Catherine Parr, and that queen dowager married Lord Thomas Seymouf, brother of the Duke of Somerset. Again, the Protector's daughter married John Dudley, after- wards Duke of Northumberland. Pembroke's father-in-law, Sir Henry Sidney, was, we have seen, himself the son-in-law of Northumberland. In addition to this involved relation- ship, there was also a secondary one. Pembroke's first wife was Catherine, daughter of Henry Grey and Frances Brandon, daughter of Mary Tudor. Somerset's son, Edward, married the unhappy Catherine Grey, and their, younger son, William Seymour, married Frances Devereux, the sister of Essex. Catherine Parr was Pembroke's aunt and Somerset's The Courtier. 95 sister-in-law, whilst the previous queen had been the latter's own sister. The indirect connection of all the families that have been alluded to here with the royal line is very strik- ing, especially when we- remember that in Lettice Knolles Devereux and Dudley married the nearest of kin to a queen who, perhaps, so nearly joined her blood still more directly with their own. Sir Francis Knolles had married the niece of Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth's mother. His heir, William (created Earl of Ban- bury), married, as a second wife, Elizabeth Howard, who brought forward a quasi-posthumous heir to the honours of Banbury, of dubious paternity though undoubted legiti- macy. Lettice Knolles, the daughter of Sir Francis, was the grandmother of Robert, second Earl of Essex, who mar- ried Lady Francis Howard, sister of his great-aunt. His own aunt, Penelope Rich, was mother of the illegitimate Mountjoy Blount, whose daughter married, in the next generation, the questionable issue of Lettice's brother by her grandson's wife's sister. Thus, through Lettice Knolles alone, half of the illustrious courtiers of the day — Leicester, Essex, Blount, Walsingham, Sidney, Mountjoy — were related to Elizabeth- consanguineously. It is not, therefore, to be wondered, seeing that the political significance of these alliances is so obvious, that they should appear in most cases unnatural, or at least devoid of healthy sentiment. Sir Francis Walsingham, on the ist July, 1565, covenanted with John Worsley that in consideration of his marriage with Ursula, widow of his brother, Robert Worsley, he would settle lands, to the yearly value of 100 marks, upon the lady, which he did to the entire satisfaction of herself and her friends. Nevertheless, on the occasion of certain family dif- ferences, a Chancery suit was resorted to (1576), in order to establish the equity of the transaction. In 1592, Dame Ursula Walsingham instituted a Chancery suit to be protected in possession of lands in Chilton Foliat, Wilts, late the estate of William Darrell, Esquire, but purchased from him by her late husband. Sir Francis Walsingham, who settled the same 96 Elizabethan Society. upon herself. It is herein stated that Dame Ursula was the widow of Sir Thomas Walsingham, her brother-in-law. The William Darrell mentioned here was the lineal de- scendant of Sir George Darrell, whose daughter Elizabeth married Sir John Seymour, and became the grandmother of Jane Seymour, the wife of Henry VIII. William Darrell and Edward VI. were first, cousins three times removed, and thus the former shared intimately in the royal connection of the Seymours, Pembrokes, and their allies in blood. Be- sides the above ramifications, there was another common tie between these families. Andrew Rogers, son of Sir Richard Rogers, of Bryanstone, Dorset, married Mary Seymour, daughter of the Protector and sister of Anne, the wife of Northumberland's son, John Dudley. Edward, Lord Beau- champ, son of the Earl of Hertford and Catherine Grey, married Honora, Sir Richard's daughter, and his brother, William .Seymour, married Frances Devereux, Penelope's elder sister. Now John Rogers, a younger brother of Sir Richard, was the second husband of William Darrell's mother ; so that, apart from his other influential connec- tions, it would have been difficult to have found an Eliza- bethan gentleman as " greatly kinned " as the last Lord of Littlecote — a scholar, soldier, and lover worthy of the great age in which he lived ; and last of all, against his own will, a courtier also. " Wild " Darrell, a proud, reserved, and scrupulous man, was at bitter feud with all his great neighbours and most of his own kindred. He had wearied many with scholarly con- ceits and legal niceties ; he had exchanged words with one and blows with another,' and had spoken hard truths of all. He had courted the neglected wife of an old ally with a chivalrous devotion which won her heart, and had atoned for a guilty passion towards her by bowing his haughty spirit to endure for her sake imprisonment and contumely, worse to him than death. At length, however, his affairs had come to such a pass that he was driven to seek protection at the Court. Here Darrell met with the welcome ever accorded to a wealthy suitor. He was indeed reduced to great straits The Courtier. 97 for ready money, but still was he the lord of thousands of broad acres upon the famous downlands of three fertile southern counties. He had no heir of his body, nor any prospect of leaving such a one behind him, for the one woman to whom he stood pledged by a solemn vow was wedded to a younger life than his. Moreover, those versed in the scandals of the times knew that more than doubt attached to the legitimacy of his younger brother and presumptive heir. Darrell therefore wrote his mind to two men of leading at the Court, both distantly connected with his own family. To one he would assure a manor " standing in as good sort in every condition " as any in the land, the clear rental of which alone amounted to ;^300 by the year of the money of that time. To the other he made an offer, slighter in name, but sufficient to arouse the interest of an Elizabethan courtier. The first of these tenders was made to his kinsman, Sir Thomas Bromley, the Lord Chancellor, and was repeated, upon his death soon afterwards, to another relative, Sir- John Popham, the Attorney General, who had already rendered him great services in his hopeless maze of litigation. The second was made to Sir Francis Walsingham, This resolution once taken, and the sacrifice made, the effect upon the immediate fortunes of the petitioner was elec- trical. The greatest lawyers of the day busied themselves with his affairs, pushed his matters through, and curbed his impatient rashness with calm and often stern advice. The Secretary of State, at the same time, hastened to extend to " his very loving friend " the benefit of his immediate protec- tion. He spoke fair words to the rancorous enemies of his prot^g^, chief amongst whom was Pembroke, but gave them plainly to understand that they must relinquish their pursuit, and stayed all extreme proceedings on either side in the guise of a mediator between the parties. With regard to the considerations in return for which they had achieved these desirable results, both of Darrell's patrons were consistent in their behaviour. They congratulated themselves freely upon their good fortune, and wished that none worse might befall them, without daring to expect the event ; and they gently H 98 Elizabethan Society. deprecated their client's generosity. For Elizabethan states- men could preserve their outward dignity, at least, under circumstances the most trying to their moral welfare. Almost immediately, however, a great opportunity offered itself for removing Darrell from the dangerous surroundings of his own country. The Armada threatened England, and men and horses were pressed into her defence from every shire. Darrell, who was diligently fed with rumours and details, caught the martial fever of the hour, and made gallant offers of personal assistance, beyond his own liabilities, to his new friend the secretary. His zeal was represented favourably to the Queen, and was rewarded with an invitation to present himself in defence of Her Majesty's person, in immediate attendance upon his patron. The latter also, careful of his future interests, required the officers of the Crown for Darrell's own district to dispense with the levies required of that gentleman in consideration of his present services ; for the Lord of Littlecote had agreed to undertake the equipment of the cornet of horse which Walsingham had thought it incum- bent on himself to furnish towards the national defence. Thus it was that Wild, Darrell became a courtier. When the excitement of the Armada had died away, he found enough to occupy him in London, where henceforward he spent the best part of his time. With something like a dozen different lawsuits on hand, a divorce case, actions for dam- ages, for trespass, or Chancery suits with his tenants, he was constantly closeted with Mr. Attorney, Mr. Secretary, or his ordinary legal advisers. Nearly every day he or his confi- dential servant (a poor relation) took boat to the Temple or to Westminster, and thence to the Court, returning again to the city. At other times his destination was Lambeth or Fulham, from the latter of which points he was ferried over with his horse on his way to interview Mr. Secretary. It would often happen that his patron had withdrawn from Court for a few days on account of bad health, and had to be followed to " Barne Elme." Another favourite pilgrimage was from the Temple to the " Old Swanne," and sometimes as far as Ratcliffe. These frequent journeys ran away with The Courtier. 99 money, though " Bote-hier " was comparatively cheap. Our hero's legal experiences, too, were ruinous. There were the fees of some score or more of counsel and attorneys ; fees to clerks, sheriff's fees, the cost of motions, entries, certificates, returns, fines, alienations, conveyances, licenses, pardons, oaths, examinations, subpoenas, copies, drafts and engross- ments, transcripts, and such like. Then there were " tips " to ushers, messengers to the porter at Walsingham House, and to my Lord of Leicester's man, besides £ip down to my Lord of Leicester's officer. And yet Darrell, with all his experience and aptitude for business, had not the legal mind of so many of his contem- poraries. He fought blindly, desperately, for the justice of his cause, risking every point, and saving none, till his difficulties and disappointments weighed him down into the grave. When Darrell came to Court as a privileged suitor, he occupied a house in Warwick Lane, a narrow thoroughfare which, jointly with Ave Maria Lane, connects Newgate Street with Ludgate Hill, running across the bottom of Paternoster Row. The position was a very good one, for on the south lay the river by which, as we have seen, he had easy access to Westminster or the Court. On the west side, he was ten minutes' walk (with Holborn Hill to climb) from Gray's Inn and Staple Inn. As near neighbours he had the Lords Cobham, St. John, Dacres, and Buckhurst, with many more of note ; whilst in the Strand was Leicester House, where Lady Leicester, her daughter, Penelope Rich, and her daughter-in-law, Frances Essex, talked and jested upon the romantic love affair of Mr. Secretary's new prot^gl Here, then, Darrell took up his abode, living in such style as befitted his condition. Such of his retainers as could find no accommodation in the house were quartered elsewhere, for there were some half-score at least who wore their lord's livery and badge. Bedding and other necessary furniture had been sent up by carrier, and with the addition of a set of long " table-bordes," " formes," and a " countinge table," together with a few dozen trenchers, pewter pots, and other substantial loo Elizabethan Society. ware, the arrangements might be considered complete for a bachelor establishment, which could well dispense with such embellishments as prints in "small black frames hung all over the rooms." Tapestry and hangings en suite covered a multitude of sins (or vermin), and then the family plate, reduced, alas ! in bulk year by year, set out in the broad cup- boards, or on the oaken presses, would light up the recesses of the great chamber with a golden glory. Darrell, however, added a few artistic touches of his own. He ordered two chairs, " covered with grene," in the true aesthetic style ; curtains of " Wedmoll " lace, hung on rods and- looped with rings, carpets, and some expensive matting for the reception rooms. But if Darrell was humbly lodged, at least he fared sumptu- ously at his table. Littlecote was a long day's ride from London (by easy stages it was three), yet its owner contrived to have nearly all the delicacies of the cbuntry conveyed to him from thence. Throughout the summer there were always two at least of the local " talent " engaged in fishing upon the manor, and the results of their skill, in the shape of baskets of fresh-caught " trowtes," the famous trout of Littlecote, coveted prey of the modern angler's day-dreams, were despatched to London by express messengers. Besides these, " fesant netts " were plied, and partridges decoyed, with other fowl, in goodly numbers for the London household. It is sad, indeed, to learn that this "pot hunting" was chiefly perpetrated during the month of May. The capture or consumption of a "fesant" on May 9th was a barbarity unknown to earlier ages, which kept their seasons in principle like our own. The home dove-cote — that lucrative seignorial appanage — fur- nished countless " pigeon pies," twelve of which were delivered tp Holborn Bridge on a single occasion ; and venison, rabbits, chickens, " grene gese," and other poultry were forthcoming in equal abundance. Then there were the strawberries which Cornelius, the Dutch gardener, supplied with a niggardly hand (as might be expected from one of his class). The summer of 1589 must have been indeed an early one, for in that year these were ripe in the middle of May (old style). The Courtier. lor Beneath such good cheer as this, supplemented by purchased viands of every description, with light' wines and ale, did Darrell's " table-bordes " groan twice a day during his last London season. Sometimes we 6nd his worship with a party dining out at the " Bell," close at hand, at the " Queenes Hed " in Pater- noster Row, at the " Kinges Hed " in New Fish Street, or even at Ratcliff. Once there is an entry for 6d. paid to see a play at " Powles," and many a one for alms given to the poor. For a new-fledged courtier Darrell was perhaps remarkable for the studied plainness of his dress. There was the inevit- able clean shirt daily, with collars, cuffs, bands, and socks, according to the evidence of the weekly washing bill. For common wear there was a suit of plain " gene '" fustian, with silk buttons. But Cornelius, the tailor, had orders for two doublets and cloaks, one of " murry satten " and the other of " black satten," both lined with taffeta of corresponding shades, for State occasions. Darrell no doubt both wrote and read much ; we know that his correspondence was exten- sive, and we find him quoting the Fathers. Certainly he made use of a great quantity of paper and ink. As a solace of his lonely hours he smoked enormously for the times, ordering at one time half a pound of tobacco, which cost 30J., nearly ;^io of our money. At the same time he drank but little, usually half a pint of " charnikoe " or claret at his two meals, and perhaps ale as a breakfast, or sack allayed with oranges, sugar, and milk. There is something strangely pathetic in perusing these personal details, entered with his own hand, of the daily life of one whom writers in all times have agreed to stamp as one of the blackest characters of his age, at the same time that they have commemorated the edifying lives of his greedy and remorseless kinsfolk and allies, and instinctively we feel a distrust of what we have learnt to believe as to the real character of society near the brilliant Court of Elizabeth. On the 14th of July, 1589, William Darrell left London on a visit to Littlecote, and there he sickened and died on the 1st of October following. Then the false friends who had 102 Elizabethan Society. wrecked his happiness, and the hungry usurers who had devoured his substance, fought over the spoils. Popham, faithful to the last, though wise only for himself, had an agent on the spot, who seized the papers of the deceased and despatched them in chests to London, there to await the arbitration promised between the respective claims of the Attorney-General and the Secretary of State. The titles of humbler claimants were submitted to the lingering processes of the law ; and soon the county ruled by Pembroke, the birth- place of the " Arcadia," was enriched by one new magnate, and the English Queen deigned to visit the lost home of the unfortunate kinsman who had assisted her so gallantly in her hour of need, and who had dragged out the last year of his short life in obscurity at her Court. CHAPTER VIII. THE CHURCHMAN. " The influence of the Church '' would be the first impression left upon our minds after a searching inquiry into the social history of the Middle Ages, though whether such influence were exercised for good or for bad is a remote consideration upon which those of us who are not already committed to an opinion may be trusted to decide for ourselves. But what- ever opinion we may arrive at, we still have encountered certain facts or phenomena (if it so please us to term them) which must remain as we have found them, be they for or against our individual opinion. We shall have recognised in the Church the professional peacemaker between states and factions, as between man and man ; the equitable medi- ator between rulers and their subjects ; the consistent cham- pion of constitutional liberty ; the alleviator of the inequalities of birth ; the uninterested and industrious disseminator of letters ; the refiner of habits and manners ; the well-meaning guardian of the national wealth, health, and intellect ; and the fearless censor of public and private morality. We shall have found too that, though long before the close of the period under our notice, not all of the above agencies are universally and consistently exercised, yet even when the Church felt her froward charge slipping from her grasp, when her temporal wealth was confiscated, and her spiritual func- tions interdicted on pain of death, even in that bitter hour she clung fondly, faithfully, to her flock, as though fearful of the moral, and still more of the social reaction to which it would be exposed ; or were it only with the blind attachment of one who has felt that her mission is not yet fully worked out. i'04 Elizabethan Society. This transition period of the Church's social influence may be conveniently extended to the final accomplishment of the Reformation. After that event the investigator will search in vain for any influence of a Church at all. The people had become weary of their ecclesiastical leading-reins. A new life had opened out to them. They had felt their strength in conquest, and their aptitude for commercial enterprise. The tree of knowledge had been transplanted into their midst, and flourished marvellously in the air of courts and palaces. Both rich and poor had eaten of its long-forbidden fruit, and found it passing sweet to the taste. An appeal to their private judgment flattered the vanity of many who had endured the mental discipline of a Catholic Church with ill- concealed impatience. Now every man was his own theo- logian, his own ritualist, his own spiritual adviser. He read the Commination Service over his neighbours, and deter- mined their conduct or his own according to his particular version of the Scriptures. So far this mattered little, it was but a debate in which perhaps the new school had the better of the argument. But mark the result ! The Reformers pulled down the " crows' nests " — those venerable Gothic piles, cloister hospitium and sanctuary — and were forced to replace them with the hideous lazar-houses of poverty and crime. Where once on the monastery lands garden-patches of grain and pulse and pot-herbs filled in the landscape, tracts of bare down supported thousands of murrain-wasted sheep. The agricultural population had disappeared in these districts. They had flocked to the towns to become fullers, workers, or dyers of the fleeces grown upon the land where they had before guided the plough. Others had gone to the^ wars, or to play at a yet more desperate game. Many had perished from want, and more still on the scaffold. Then a new class of society was formed out of those who had bene- fited by these changes, courtiers who plundered the people, landlords who evicted their tenants, officials who cheated the Government, merchants, usurers, and pandars, who preyed upon the vices of the great, or the woes of the unfortunate. All reserve, all decorum had gone out from the life of the The Churchman. 105 people. They observed no fast day, neither did they enjoy any holiday as of old. They gorged themselves with un- wholesome food till they were decimated by loathsome diseases. The towns were flooded with tippling-houses, bowling-alleys, tabling-dens, and each haunt of vicious dissi- pation. Murder, rapine, and every form of lawless violence were practised with comparative impunity. The state of society was the worst that had ever before been in the land. And where, all this time, was the influence of the Church at work } There was no pretence even of such an influence. The bishops were mostly starveling pedants, creatures of a court faction, whose fingers itched after filthy lucre ; or else good, plodding, domesticated men, with quiverfuls to provide for ; graziers or land-jobbers who had mistaken their voca- tion. Narrow, harsh, grasping, servile, unjust, they were despised as much by their masters as they were hated by their flocks. The inferior clergy, the typical parson or parish priest, scarcely existed at all. Half the parishes in many dioceses had no proper cure. Many more were provided for with a trembling conformist, or a lewd and insolent bigot. In the best of cases the curate was at the mercy either of the Crown or the amateur theologians, his parishioners. This, of course, is only the social aspect of the question. An examination of the respective merits of differing creeds does not come within the scope of practical history. These are only the facts of the case as we find them. It may, of course, have been really for the benefit of the nation to ac- quire a pure theology, and the rudiments of a classical educa- tion, to the loss of every art and every fiction which coloured the naked ugliness of humanity. It may have been to the advantage of civilization that trade and enterprise should escape from the trammels by which they had been arbitrarily confined, and that the wealth of the nation should be in- creased by the successful application of usury and fraud and piracy. Or, again, it may be sound economy that the land should be worked productively and labour find its true bent, even though hundreds of hamlets were desolated, thousands of peasant proprietors robbed or evicted, and the producer 1 o6 Elizabethan Society. and consumer live their short, laborious, and unhealthy lives, leaving behind them a malignant and ineradicable taint of blood. All these things may be just and fit and necessary ; but when centuries have elapsed, and we are still the same children of sentiment, not one jot nearer the sticking point of bearing the responsibility of our own actions, we may find a pitiful moment, when our eyes are not resolutely shut against the light of historical truth, to ask ourselves whether our vaunted Reformation was really the great and holy cause we have learnt to deem it, and to silence for awhile those shameless praters who interpret history only by the results of their own slothful and interested research. Impatient of discipline, however, the nation had certainly become, at least, near the beginning of the sixteenth century, and hence the poor laws and the ale-house long before its close. The following story, rightly takenj will best illustrate the point at issue between Church and people, the sore which the clerical shoe pinched. It is told in the sufferer'? own words, and a more picturesque and nafve relation it would be difficult to find. A certain handicraftsman of Pembroke, by name William Waryng, was in the habit of using the laudable pastime of archery with the intent (according to his own version) of qualifying himself as an efficient citizen rather than with any view to his own profit or pleasure. Nay, he even made it his duty to set aside the Lord's day for the more complete performance of this secular duty, sacrificing thereby his own religious convictions to the exigencies of his country's service. Unfortunately, however, for William Waryng, his well-meant endeavours to comply with an Act of Parliament excited the adverse comment of his spiritual pastors, by whom he was rebuked, cited, and censured with such severity that the per- formance of the penance enjoined upon him deprived him of the ornament of his hair and subjected him to all the symp- toms of the lues venerea. This was in the summer of 1529. But whilst William Waryng lay sick of his phenomenal disease, mighty .changes had happened in high places. In October of the same year The Churchman. 107 Wolsey had fallen ; Cromwell was rising fast to power ; More was the anti-clerical chancellor ; the King was troubled by the stings of conscience, and still more by those of the flesh ; the exchequer was empty ; the Church was rich and unpopu- lar ; and the Reformation had begun in England. Therefore, when our patient was "somewhat amendyd," he whispered his neighbours that he would go to the King and his council for his remedy. The priest, hearing of this, somewhat un- charitably remarked that he " wold not rest till he shuld have a Dabbe (otherwyse a Stroke) in the hed that he shuld never tell who dyd it " — hinting probably at' a second visitation of the same kind as had already worked such havoc with his fractious parishioner's hair. The 'latter, however, chose to interpret the observation literally as a threat of personal violence ; and being yet " feoble in his body " (and besides in exceeding bad odour with the religiously-disposed of the diocese), he withdrew across the border and found no diffi- culty in causing his chief enemies to be arrested at his suit for trespass in the case. Thereupon, however, the clericals, being " riche and knytte together," betook themselves to their spiritual weapons, and proclaimed him " acurssed in iij parisshe churches therabowte," Three inore years went by j the work of demolition con- tinued, and William Waryng's chances improved. The case was heard at length in the Chancery ; the plaintiff stating his grievance, and the defendants making answer thereto. Their answer revealed the following circumstances. Waryng seems to have been a prominent member of that vicious and turbu- lent class which might be chiefly credited with the overthrow of the existing state of society. He was a noisy artisan who delighted in tippling and brawling, and also in " sport ; " such as shooting at marks, not for practice, but for wagers. He led the fashion, too, in far worse dissipation. He had deserted his own wife, and attempted to conceal her existence. Neverthe- less, he shone as a rural rake; he dressed, he swore, and he kept a mistress. Such a fellow as this was a very plague- spot in the midst of a primitive and sober community ; an apt disciple of the profligate great who were inoculating the io8 Elizabethan Society. nation with Italian vice and French diseases. It was for this that he had been rebuked and put to shame by the ecclesias- tical authorities, as these themselves deposed. At any rate, the fact remains that after a searching inquiry before a most impartial tribunal, the charges against the clericals were ab- solutely dismissed, the petitioner was censured for his false and malicious accusation, and condemned to pay all costs of the suit. This was in 1532 or 1533. Somewhat later we find Waryng bringing the case before the King's council with a good stock of witnesses prepared to swear anything. He had also fortified himself by getting rid of his wife and marrying his mistress. Perhaps also he had grown a new crop of hair.. We do not know the result of the appeal, but probably the step was not ill-advised at the crisis of the Reformation. But one generation later, and every cause for impatience against a mere spiritual discipline had disappeared. The feeling of the bulk of the clergy in these matters was that of a dignitary among them who made z. man do penance for adultery decorated with a baretta, and no doubt fully alive to the joke. , This zealous ecclesiastic was Turner, who was appointed to the Deanery of Wells by letters patent in the fifth year of Edward VI. On the accession of Mary, however, his predecessor, Goodman, whom he had ousted, was restored, and kept his seat until his death in the second year of Elizabeth, when Turner was installed, and proceeded to devote himself to raking in his outstanding revenue and dis- possessing the incumbents nominated by his predecessor. Here and there a thorough-going reformer of this kind might be found in high place, egged on by the popular clam- our against idolatry. But to the Government it did not appear desirable that the movement should go beyond a certain length. Boundless liberty in religion could too easily be extended to the civil state. The Tudor monarchy, which rested on the popular favour, pleasured the people in this matter to its future cost. The Reformers carried the royal line of Henry VIII. through dvery crisis by which it was threatened ; but during the reaction of Elizabeth's reign they gathered head as a political faction, and compelled attention The Churchman. 109 to their demands. As a rule, the new Church was as distaste- ful to the people as the old. There was the same regard to things idolatrous, the same odious exercise of authority to procure conformity, and imperil the peace of mind of the Elect. And all this they were to suffer at the hands of "persecuting Herods" and "anti-Christian mushrooms," set on by their bishops — and what bishops ! Amongst the non-conforming prelates who were deprived during Elizabeth's first parliament by virtue of that Queen's Act of Uniformity, was Dr. Thomas Thirlby, the Popish bishop of Ely. His successor was Richard Cox, a good scholar, and a prominent member of that Protestant party which during its exile for religion had, by its feuds and outrages against public decency, cast scandal not merely upon the cause of the Reformation, but upon that of Christianity itself in many cities of the Continent. By the time that this successor to the Apostles had been duly anointed and installed, and the little matter of commission and tribute arranged to her highness' satisfaction, it was discovered that a slight oversight had been committed. It was easy enough to depose the former pre- late, but it was by no means easy to induce him to lend a finishing hand to the work by emptying out his own pockets. This, in fact, was the state of affairs. Cox had learnt that money was to be gotten — that it was indirectly owing to him, and the mere thought cast him into a fever of avarice from which he did not rally for ten years. The bishopric of Ely had received a royal endowment of ;£'7o6 13J. A^. in the reign of Edward III. as a capital fund or "Implement"; and this sum was to be accounted for and handed over by each outgoing bishop to his successor. According to Cox's own account, Henry VIII., of famous memory, bethinking him how that, during " the last 42 years of his reign " {sic), the revenues of that see had fallen into decay, owing, as Cox observes, to the fact that its bishop " then was and for a long time had abode in Rome," made a grant by Privy Seal to bring the stock in question lip to the old standard ; namely by an increase of 430 cattle, at 13J. 40^. per head, and 41 horses for the plough, at 20J. Strict measures were further 1 10 Elizabethan Society. taken to ensure the future payment of this capital to each' incoming bishop, who was to stand in the west porch of his cathedral, before installation, and receive the same from his predecessor. But though we may credit Cox with a readiness to have stpod for almost any length of time at the appointed place to receive a far smaller sum than about ;£'s,ooo of our money, it is certain that in the present instance he waited in vain. The new powers that were could depose Thirlby, and hustle him before the Council, and " lay him by the heels " in the Tower, but they could not coin him into money, and nothing less than money wcftild satisfy his successor. The Government therefore seems to have given the matter up as a bad job ; but not so. Cox. We find him writing a piteous letter to Cecil. " I am so troubled," he says, " w'. Dr. Thirlby, that I fear I shall be forced to trouble the Queen's Mat', at last. For he is so strong in the Tower that I can get no right at his handys." Several years later the new bishop was still in the same plight. He writes once more to Cecil, ostensibly about the translation of the Bible, but really to harp on his old griev- ance. " I am hytherto strangely used by D^ Thyrlby and so lyke to be styll to the great hyndrance of the sea onles her hignes' lett'. may helpe, which I pray you procure in such tenure as ye thinke. I send you my fansye here enclosed touching the lett^ " What manner of epistle the prelate and the statesman would have concocted between them we can only imagine. The actual missive, which was probably the result of these complaints, is thoroughly Elizabethan and secular in its peremptory tone. Her Majesty understands that the sum of ^^ 706 13J. 4k was assigned by Edward HI.^ to the see of Ely as a capital to be handed over to each incoming bishop by his predecessor ; that Dr. Thirlby has avoided payment of this sum, and has likewise neglected a decree of Chancery in the matter. Therefore he is now to pay this without further delay. Also she understands that the late bishop received £500 for dilapidations from his predecessor, ' Not by Edward VI., as the Calendar has it. The Churchman. Ill and thinks it unreasonable that his own successor should receive nothing out of "such a sum," owing to the former's " fawte and fraude." Therefore in this matter also he is to answer "accordynge to equitye and discharge of his con- seyens." Meanwhile the unfortunate ex-prelate was shifted from the Tower to a yet more tedious prison in Lambeth Palace. From there Parker writes to Cecil " concerning the mot? of the frendes of Mr. D. Thirlebye, who (as hymself de- siereth) wolde wishe in this his grete siknes to be removed fro my house to his frendes for better cherishing and in hope of his recoverye. I wolde graunte no furder, but the choyce of thre or four larger chambers w*in my house, except you can agre thereto, and for this cause this massanger comyth to yo^ honor to kno\ve ye Qne's pleasure w?'' understanded in circustancys as the shal be prescribed so they shall be followed." The friends who were thus solicitous for the unfortunate priest's health and comfort were probably his poor relations, Richard Blackwall, citizen of London, and Margaret his wife. To these two the ex-bishop had conveyed in trust the re- mains of his private fortune, which was administered by them for his use. The watchfulness of these humble friends was, however, in vain, for before the end of the same month of August, 1570, Dr. Thirlby died at Lambeth. Staunch to the end, he baffled his harsh creditor by dying intestate. There were thus no executors accountable for the estate of the de- ceased, and to all appearance there was no estate at all. Cox, however, made a last effort, and commenced a Chancery suit against the Blackwalls. These admitted the trust, but showed that the whole amount, small as it was, had been faithfully administered by them to the doctor's own use ; only five marks remaining, that is to say after his funeral, " who in August last past at Lambeth dyed, and none of his other allies or kynsfolk being thereunto requested w^ medle w'. his bodye ; till Margaret Blackwall owte of charitee caused it to be con- veniently laid in the earth at her owne charges." This was the earliest of our worthy prelate's troubles, and there were many others in store for him. The bishop was 112 Elizabethan Society. married, if we may believe the popular scandals, to a help- mate worthy of himself. Elizabeth's views respecting the connubial bliss of Churchmen were pretty frequently and strongly expressed. His Grace of Ely, therefore, who had every reason for wishing to stand well at the Court, undertook at an early period of his episcopal career to reason his royal mistress out of this " strange opinion.'' He wrote to her upon the subject, prefacing his arguments with a flood of nauseous compliments ; relating how he " barst out in teares for joy " on the occasion of her happy accession, and likening himself to King Joas' faithful Joiada. At another time also he wrote to Cecil to entreat his mediation in this matter. For this matrimonial weakness, however. Cox fully atoned by his zeal in the cause of Uniformity. His hands indeed were pretty full, for, apart from the average cases of Noncon- formity, Cambridge University was justly reputed as great a hotbed of Calvinism as the sister academy was of Popery. But the Bishop's forte was as a Bible translator. He had great ideas on this subject. " The diversitee of translations," he would write, " make a foule gerre in churches at this day. Many good men are grieved w' it and our Satans laugh at it." Unhappily the good bishop's familiar allusion to the Satans of his day was not without cause. He had consider- able experience of these enemies within his own diocese. There they flourished with a rapid vegetation, which was never seared by the blast of calamity ; and they laid snares, and dug pitfalls for his feet, with a deadly precision, while contriving themselves to elude the toils of justice. The story of the Bishop of Ely's quarrel with his ally and coadjutor. Lord North, is the saddest but most instructive of the ecclesiastical scandals of that age. The see of Ely was co-extensive with a Palatine Jurisdiction over the Isle so- called, the feudal perquisite arising therefrom forming part of the episcopal temporalities. The value of these emolu- ments was a matter of immense concern to Cox, who had petitioned the Crown on the subject of allowances" to be made him for loss on rated value, for waste, and the lucra- tive keepership of various parks. But in the year 1575, in The Churchman. 1 1 3 consequence of a breach with Lord North, the High Steward of the Isle, the whole character of his secular relations was brought under the notice of the Crown in the most unsparing terms by his injured vassals. Having an inkling of the courses intended to be pursued against him, the bishop addressed to North a letter of reproach and remonstrance. The exposS, he writes, is most wanton ; for " not to render one good turne for an other is the pointe of an heathenishe and not of a Christian." He next proceeds to enumerate all the good turns done by himself to his friend. He had bestowed on him the "office of the Isle," which he might to more advantage have presented to some Privy Councillor, anticipat- ing the Queen's recommendation of his lordship. He had granted to his family the Park of Somersham, and pasturage of cattle there. He had bid him 200 marks and the lease of an , impropriate benefice for the reversion of his office. He had yielded him the lease of a goodly manor, and 30 acres of woodland at a nominal rent. To oblige him, the lease of another manor had been granted to his dear friend-r-dear perhaps (he uncharitably adds) no longer, since he prosecuted some of his lordship's people for their wicked doings. Then, he continues, " althoughe I hadd ment to appoynt a worthie learned man of lawe to be cheefe justice within the Isle," yet at his lordship's earnest suit, and to avoid the violence of his disappointment, the latter's nominee was admitted. Lastly, the bishop observes he has for his lordship's sake been very tender with another dear friend who would not vouchsafe to come to church. In spite of all these favours, he hears that Lord North is no longer his friend, and he regrets the fact, as he considers it a sign of the basest ingratitute and the pro- foundest want of tact. " I appeale unto yo^ conscience," says the bishop with singular frankness, " whether ye woulde be content and take in good parte if any man in Englande should goe aboughte to have a manor of yours by leasse againste your will and good contention, or els to examine yo^ life to yo^ utter undoinge." Facts such as these suggested to the divine several of those appropriate Scriptural parallels which he had always at his command. In the above aspect I ri4 Elizabethan Society. his lordship reminded him of Ahab, covetous of Naboth's vineyard. He himself resembled David thanking God for the malice of his enemies, whereby he might be brought to a knowledge of his secret sins. He thinks his correspondent might with advantage consult the precepts inculcated in the Sermon from the Mount; and particularly refers him to the tenth commandment. Thus edified, he thinks his former friend may be brought to a knowledge of his wickedness, and adds the g©od bishop, I will pray that " w5 all speedie re- pentance ye.imaye shake it of." This letter North was weak enough to answer at length, labouring as he did under the enormous disadvantage of arguing with a pastor who, when the worst had been saidj could undertake to pray for his conversion. The result was that he lost Ais temper, and rudeness to a bishop is at all times a • very damaging policy. He is not ill, he retorts, unless it were from indignation at his grace's effrontery. He accepts the latter's reservation of the patronage of his office for what it is worth, in the face of the Queen's recommenda- tion of himself; but this and the other favours enumerated have been exaggerated, or counter-balanced by some return that the bishop had expected for them ; while the justiceship was in his own gift, and not in the bishop's. Then, talking of Christian charity, ,look at his grace's own official doings. He has bound men to the good abearing, a manifest injustice. For eighteen years he himself has been a poor justice, and yet seldom saw this done ; but the bishop makes it the common bond .of the Isle. " It is ungodly and uncharitable, neither lyke a bishop nor a Christian, to bynde a man to impossible bandes." The writer goes on to speak of " yoV vigorous dealinge with all yo": Isle." As to forgiveness, he observes, — "when I hear that the bisshop of Ely hath for- given any man, I will crie Nunc dimittis." In conclusion, North threatens that if his grace does not satisfy the com- plaints of those whom he has wronged, his villainous practices will be exposed. We may presume that Cox, like a brother prelate in a like case, refused to yield, for almost immediately the storm burst The Churchman. 1 1 5 over him. Articles were framed, and depositions taken against him, in which his official and private character were made to appear in a most unfavourable light. He was charged generally with engrossing the revenues of his see at the expense of his successors and of the episcopal dignity. It was alleged that he had concealed or withheld rents ; sold his woods, to the value, it was believed, of £a„ooQ \ depas- tured his parks unlawfully with the most profitable stock ; bought and sold oxen " as a grazier " ; leased his gardens and base-courts, in Holborn, "to butchers and others." Then, again, he was accused of having used his office in the Com- mission of Sewers to enrich himself ; and, generally, of being his own magistrate in cases concerning his own interests. His relations with his dependants were described as being even more culpable. He had rack-rented and oppressed his tenants ; cut their turf ; reduced their fields ; and sum- marily evicted them. He had inclosed commons ; impounded cattle ; concealed leases ; imprisoned debtors ; imposed upon the poor and ignorant ; and persecuted his opponents malici- ously. He was also guilty of sacrilege, for he had allowed the sacrament to be administered in an ale-house, to save his own pocket ; and had misappropriated the alms given for the poor. In support of these charges, many circumstantial cases were alleged. On one occasion the bishop had im- pounded the only steer of a poor maid, and consumed it in his own household, the sufferer being dismissed unheard when she claimed redress. Another time a poor tenant of the bishop had been ordered to row Mistress Cox abroad at a certain hour. He attended, but the lady was not ready ; so, after waiting an unconscionable time, he seems to have adjourned to dinner. Finally she appeared, and finding him unprepared, "revyled him," and called another waterman. Then, to punish his remonstrances, the bishop evicted him from his copyhold, and only restored him by reason of the public indignation ; first, however, making him clean out one of his ponds as an atonement. Again, the bishop had exerted his seignorial rights by sending his servants to drag a pond from which another poor tenant derived his chief subsistence. 1 1 6 Elizabethan Society. Similar stories could easily be multiplied. It is true that Cox found no difficulty in explaining most of these charges away ; but still the whole tone of the controversy shows the meanness and avarice of the bishop, and the contempt and hatred of his flock. It is probable that at the very least Cox abused his power of patronage, and that many of his difficulties had their origin from this cause. For example, the clerk of the pleas and assize, who was also the proto-nothary and cyrographer of the Isle, in which offices he had been associated with, and succeeded, his father, was deprived by Cox soon after his in- stallation, on the ground of youth and want of qualification, but really as being the nominee of his adversary Thirlby. The deplaced official resisted strenuously, and made a jour- ney to London to interview the bishop, but was at all times refused admission to Ely House. Thence he followed his grace on his return to Ely, and at last was able to speak with him, but received for his pains a stern order to submit. Matters went on smoothly till the assizes came on. Then the discovery was made that there were no indictments or other records to be found. Thereupon the justices sent in haste to the late clerk's lodgings for his assistance in the difficulty; but that astute young person had, of course, "made himself to be absent." The result was that the sessions had to be postponed, and all was in confusion. The bishop was at last driven to bring a Chancery suit against the missing ex-cus- todian, to compel him to disclose evidence on oath. Thus the latter had the opportunity he wanted in order to make his grievance public. The bishop had cancelled his patent, which, in opinion of many lawyers, was an illegal step, apd had given out that his age was under twenty, and that he was ignorant of law ; whereas he proved that he was really three years older, and moreover had been six years a student of law. Besides, " yf he might withoute reproffe of arogancy tell the truthe," he thinketh that the world took him to be quite good enough, perhaps too good, for the post ; and, " yf coparisons were not odiouse," he is certainly a much better man than his successor. Finally, he respectfully insinuates The Churchman. 117 that it is no concern of his to produce the records, as there is no shadow of proof that he removed them. The spectacle of Cox in his later days is not a pleasant one. Old and infirm, he was as watchful as ever of his worldly interests. He writes to the Council to excuse his delay in forwarding a certificate of musters, on account of his age and infirmities ; and takes the occasion to inquire anxiously how he is to rate himself, as a clerk or layman .' Then comes the well-worn tale of Elizabeth confiscating Ely House gardens (rescuing them, perhaps, from an unwarrant- able use) for the site of Sir Christopher Hatton's new house. Last of all, the bishop threatens to resign, and is relieved by death. Thenceforth the see of Ely remained vacant for eighteen years. 4^nother prelate like Cox would have bred a revolution in the Isle. It is not very unnatural that bishops of this ^jrevailing stamp should have been hated and despised by the bulk of their flock, nearly as much as the spiritual disciplinarians of a former regime. The latter would have cut the people off" from all good things within their reach, because the means to be employed for obtaining these were vicious. They lusted after the spoils of war ; and they were told of the blessings of peace. There was an inexhaustible harvest to be gathered off the mortgaged acres of the great ; and usury was de- nounced to them as a deadly sin. The instincts of their race prompted them to eat and drink and be questionably merry in the uncertain intervals of honest toil ; and during half the year they were bidden to fast, while for the other half their tasks and recreations were portioned out to them by a paternal and clerical Government. But, on the other hand, what was their present gain by the triumph of the Reforma- tion ? Less than none if they were to be subject to these " bouncing priests," to this body of greedy, meddling prelates and their vicars, blessed with a few shorn remnants of the garb of their order, with the Word of God in their mouths and the lie to it in their lives. That was not what they had looked for when they put their hands to the great work. They had prospered exceedingly under the new state of iiS Elizabethan Society. things, and chose secretly to attribute this prosperity to their spiritual regeneration. To this idea, as to a mighty fetish, they clung with a resolution that could not be daunted by persecution or weakened by success. What had zealots like, these to do with the lovers of pomps and ceremonies, or the manipulators of " hieroglyphic State machines " contrived for the suppressiqn of all liberty of conscience. They went on their way rejoicing amidst the persecution of the most worth-, less of men ; and they grew and multiplied. Soon a turn, of Fortune's wheel brought them uppermost in the State, and they enjoyed fifteen years of power and retribution — fifteen years of liberty, and poverty, and terror. Then Time, which alone is just, worked the vindication 'of a long dis- honoured system. In 1678 it was enough that men had lived to remember the bonfires of the Restoration. Pl^TE V QUEEN ELIZABETH. fFram Original Uttirs PaUnts (if tht said ytar a/ the RHgn.) CHAPTER IX. THE OFFICIAL. The modern definition of an official in its general accepta- tion may be taken as "a highly paid diplomatic or lowly paid clerical expert who devotes the best years of his life to the service of (in his eyes) an ungrateful country." This ingratitude, however, where it still exists, may be easily ex- plained by the earlier definition of the personage in-question. In this sense the official might be described as " the patentee of the Crown, or the nominee of its advisers ; " it being understood that both patronage and emoluments are exer- cised and enjoyed, respectively, to the public detriment . In matters of finance the public has a long memory ; though, in the present instance, a comparatively short one would serve its purpose as well. Be this as it may, it would be better for the sake of our complacent patriotism if we knew nothing of our greatest men of old in their purely official capacity. It jars upon our sensibilities to find our heroes of the field or flood, leaders in the Council or in the camp, lying and plot- ting to outwit each other in the struggle for power and place, snarling and fighting over the fatness of the land. We shudder to think that during the perils of the Armada the finances of the navy were administered by a pack of ravening wolves, according to the testimony of its official chief ; that the armies of Elizabeth abroad were allowed to shiver and starve at the mercy of governors and patentees who em- bezzled the grants which should have clothed and fed them ; that courtiers and wits flourished upon odious monopolies, and that judges grew fat upon extortionate bribes. With good reason we may call the Elizabethan a " golden " age. I20 Elizabethan Society. for gold was the national divinity, and God and Mammon were by both high and lowly served with a zeal for which many of their descendants have cause to be grateful. We little think, when we peruse the melancholy tale of disease, starvation, and shame, so needlessly undergone by the heroic champions of England's liberty against the invading might of Spain with her Invincible Armada, from what obscure and insignificant causes the difficulties and hardships of the Island seamen may have chiefly arisen. It is certain, however, that the sight of the Spanish sails in the offing spread less dismay amongst the English crews than the appearance of their own empty magazines and lockers ; and that the enemy's shot caused far fewer casualties in their list than the mouldering rations of the Government. It is also certain that, only a year before the last preparations of the executive to meet the threatened danger, the country had lost the services of that very Phoenix amongst Tudor officials, an able and honest Surveyor-General of the Navy victualling department — one who had served the Crown faithfully for almost forty years in this same post, under whose auspices the splendid armaments of Drake, Frobisher, and Raleigh had gone forth to unequal fight, and had returned treasure-laden and richer still in undying fame. This man was Edward Baeshe, who having served his official apprenticeship under Henry VIII., held the post of Surveyor-General for victualling the navy throughout the whole of the reigns of Edward VI. and Mary, and for thirty years of that of Elizabeth ; his engagement extending from July, 1547, to May, 1587, with one doubtful break between 1556 and 1558. We know most of Baeshe under Elizabeth. In the January after that Queen's accession, the Lord Admiral delivered to him formally the great book of the provisions for the navy. The former was his official superior, but the Sureyor was in immediate contact with the Naval Treasurer and with the Exchequer. There is (evidence that Baeshe was both intelligent and active in the discharge of his duties. In 1562, during the operations at Newhaven, he complained The Official. 121 strongly to Cecil of the scanty stock of supplies that he was allowed to collect in the royal storehouses, contrasting here- with his own proceedings during the late reign for the victual- ling of Calais. It was through his care, too, that mills were sent with the wheat shipped for the English army at New- haven. Red tape in high places would have suffered the grain to be despatched alone, as though it were as serviceable as biscuit or meal. In 1565 he was assisting to victual Berwick, and in 1567 to provide supplies for Ireland. Baeshe had no share in the preparations for quelling the Northern insurrection. This duty fell to the share of his able contemporary, Valentine Brown. From the year 1574 to his death, the Surveyor-General took an active part in the re-organization of the Navy, such as it was. He was con- stantly sending in estimates to Cecil for victualling so many ships for one, two, or three months. In 1575 a terrible loss befell him. On the 5th of August he received a letter from his Portsmouth agent, informing him that on the previous day the storehouses there had been destroyed by iire. He wrote at once to Burghley praying that his great losses by this event might be considered ; whereupon the Treasury set it- self to calculate the losses of Her Majesty — and of Mr. Baeshe. In the next year we have a proposal from the Surveyor- General that he should be allowed to repay ;£■ 1,5 00 of the ;^2,ooo which he had lost, by annual instalments oi £100. During the next ten years Baeshe was busily employed, and during most of that time he had the advantage of the co- operation of another able official, Sir John Hawkins, who became Treasurer of the Navy in 1577. In 1586, the year before his death, he was again in difficulties. He reports a great scarcity of provisions, owing to a bad season and mur- rain among the flocks. A few months later he writes con- fessing the impossibility of carrying out his contract, and praying to be released from his hard bargain, He pleaded also his forty years of service ; and as it was notorious how greatly prices had risew since the last general estimate, he might have looked for some concessions. Nevertheless, both he and his poor widow prayed for any such in vain. The 122 Elizabethan Society. last three months of Baeshe's life were busier than any pre- ceding period. At the end of March he wrote, as usual, to hurry on the despatch of business by the Government, and to know the plans for the year. Before the ist of May follow- ing he was dead. Baeshe had not grown rich in the service of his country. He was, however, necessarily a person of some position. He should have succeeded bis cousin in a small ancestral pro- perty, but was defrauded of his rights by the former's half- brothers in his absence. He had. also property of his own in Hertfordshire, and was sheriif of the county. In that capacity he was delegated by the Government to personally inspect the orthodoxy of old Lady Poulet of Tittenhanger, grievously suspected of Recusancy. Her ladyship at once reassured him on this point. She not only denied being a recusant, but professed herself most willing to contribute £^^0 towards the expenses of the State. The veteran Surveyor-General died at the most critical moment of the maritime fortunes of his country ; yet instead of hastening to supply his place as efficiently as might be, the Government spent the all-important year which followed his death in cutting down the terms proposed by his suc- cessor, and in dealing out supplies more than ever with a niggardly hand. Official virtues have seldom been fully recognised in any age, but under Elizabeth they were posi- tively discouraged. Sir William Carey, the head of a typical Devonshire family, lineal descendant of an ancestor who had made the fortunes of his house by vanquishing a Portuguese Goliath in the good old days of Whittington and his " cat," was the father of two sons who founded each a distinguished official family. From one, Thomas (a neighbour of Wild Darrell's ancestors at Chilton Foliat), descended the Careys, afterwards Viscounts Falkland, and the Hunsdons, Elizabeth's cousins by marriage with her mother's sister; from the other son, Robert, descended Sir George Carey, afterwards Treasurer at War, and Lord Deputy of Ireland. This latter branch of the family had also done well for themselves in marriage. The OffiaaL 123 They had married with Paget^ Carew, and other powerful families ; while Sir George Carey himself had married Let- tice Rich, eldest daughter of Robert, Earl of Warwick. Under Elizabeth, Sir George was successively Governor of the Isle of Wight, Vice-Treasurer of Ireland, and Treasurer at War, and Master of the Exchange in the same country. His brother. Sir Edward, was a gentleman of the Chamber, and one of the four Tellers of the Exchequer. He had, moreover, relatives and allies in almost every department of the State. Finally, in the next reign, he was appointed Lord Deputy of Ireland. From 1599 to 1606, Sir George Carey held the important post of Treasurer at War in Ireland. He was, as we have seen, at the same time Master of the Exchange, and had the entire regulation of the currency, both before and after its reform. His official superior was the Governor of Ireland fo5H 3-y. 4'^., as well as that for the following winter, on the same scale, amounting to ;£■ 12,507 loj., as at present estimated. Here the responsibility of the English Govern- ment ended. Acquittances were to be received by the con- tractors from the consignees, who were the captains of the Irish foot-bands, for £162 i \s. for summer, and ;£'26s i \s. 8^. for winter suits to every 100 men. These acquittances were to be handed by the contractors to the Treasurer at War for Ireland, and his release was to constitute their legal discharge against the Crown, subject to the scrutiny of the official auditors. With all these precautions taken against fraud or errors, it may seem almost incredible that nearly half of the grants for the clothing service in Ireland should have been embezzled by the contractors or their accomplices. Yet this The Official. 127 was the case for the Crown ; the statistics given by its coun- sel being as under, arranged in a tabular form and in round numbers. Year. Clothing. Troops. Charge. Allowance. 41 Eliz. Summer 12,000 (7,500 clothed) ;fi7,8i8 > and Winter 12,000 29,806 i ;^35.76i 42 „ ( Summer 7,000 10.393 42 „ Winter 12,000 (6,300 ,, 29,806 15,762 43 .. f Summer 12,000 (8,030 „ 17,818 11,910 and ) Winter 12,000 (6,850 ,, 29,806 17,075 44 .. c. Summer 10,000 (8,500 „ 14,846 8,621 44 ,. 45 Eliz. Winter 12,000 (7,500 ,, 30,624 17,319 \ Summer 10,000 (8,500 ,, 15,330 13,895 I Jas. I. I Winter 7,000 (3.040 • > 17,864 7,661 I „ { Summer S.OOO (1,460 .. 7,656 2,106 2 „ Winter 3,000 (1,500 „ 7,656 2,215 2 „ f Summer 3,000 ( 316 ,, 4,508 474 3 .. Winter 1.370 ( 250 *. 3,456 375 £237,^7 ;^i33,8o4 Difference of receipts and expenditure, ;^I04,22I. Nevertheless, it is not very difficult to understand how the frauds were successfully carried out. The Government were constantly changing their arrangements in Ireland, and a steady reduction in the numbers of the Irish army took place during the first few years of the reign of James I. Therefore a tone of mystery or assurance on the part of the favoured contractors would prevail easily enough with the supervisors appointed by the Crown. It was well known that these two London merchants were in the confidence of the Govern- ment, and were even at that very time advancing money for the pay of the garrisons of the late Queen's cautionary towns. A hint from them that the full order had been secretly countermanded would have its weight with subordinates well used to such expedients ; or failing this, a judicious bribe would do the work as well. Besides, the home Government was only concerned in finding money for the service, and the real check upon its expenditure rested with the Irish Trea- surer, to say nothing of the obvious fact that the consignees, the captains of Irish foot-bands, had a certain number of men under their command who must be clothed as well as 128 Elizabethan Society. fed. With whom, then, did the fault lie ? These Irish cap- tains were nearly all men of note and family, and included an;iongst their number such names as Sir Arthur Chichester (afterwards Baron of Belfast), Sir Richard Wingfield, Sir Henry Docwra, Sir Fulk Conway, Sir Henry Brouncker, the Earl of Clanricard, Sir Tobias Caulfield, Sir Thomas Philipps, Sir Ralph Constable, Sir Thomas Roper, Lord Cromwell, Sir Charles Wilmot, and Sir Thomas Rotheram, with many more of note. These officers had the rank of colonels, and were also for the most part governors of districts ; yet one and all (according to the case for the Crown, fully made out in the eyes of the Barons of the Exchequer) winked at the dis- honesty of the contractors, and received a large share of the plunder, while they allowed their own unfortunate soldiers to shiver half-naked in their tents, in a worse plight even than the heroes of the Boyne. But what of the Irish Treasurer, the cousin of Elizabeth's own cousin, the friend of Pembroke, the trusted Governor of the Isle of Wight, the Armada man, the ancestor of gallant cavaliers ? How had he redeemed the trust confided to him by his Queen and continued by her successor ? There are good grounds for believing that he proved him- self the boldest and most successful of a whole generation of public robbers. In i624,,Cranfield was impeached for mal- versation. In 1 62 1, Bacon had been convicted of taking bribes. In 1621 also, the Attorney-General exhibited in Trinity Term a bill against Sir George Carey's heirs and executors, in the Exchequer, for wholesale frauds upon the Crown in his office of Treasurer at War for Ireland. . The case of the Crown, founded in a great measure on the discoveries made in the Babington case, was briefly as follows. Sir George Carey, as Treasurer at War for Ireland, during the last four years of the reign of Elizabeth and the first four of James I. had received, and presumably accounted for, about a million and a half of public money. It was now stated for the Crown that more than ;^ 150,000 of this money had never been satisfactorily accounted for by the Treasurer, but had been appropriated for his own use. The sum was The Official. 129 made up of the following items. At the end of his fourth account it was stated that the Treasurer was indebted to the Crown for £ii&,7\^ i/j. z\d., which had never been trans- mitted by him in any form of currency. This sum was the balance of the Crown's profit by the Exchange of £22/^,600, of which, according to the proclamation to that effect, one- third, one-fourth, or at least one-fifth had been received in sterling money. This sum, however, the Treasurer repre- sented as existing only in base coinage, thus reducing the balance by about two-thirds. It was indeed commonly allowed that only base coinage was current in Ireland before 1602 ; but the Crown offered proof that at the time when this sum came into the Treasurer's hands, no base money was for the moment available. A second charge was that the Treasurer had defrauded the Crown in the victualling of the army by allowing the English soldiers only \Zd. a week to live upon, and the Irish nothing but a modicum of base copper as board-wages. Thirdly, it was alleged that he had held back the base coinage for some time after it should have been proclaimed, whereby its value fell to ten of base for one of sterling value. This opportunity he seized to buy pro- visions with the deprecialted money at a forced value, for which he allowed himself in sterling money after the pro- clamation for reforming the currency. It was believed that of ;£'26,592 i8j. 8fi/., which he should have been allowed for as base money, he had pocketed two-thirds by this manoeuvre after the base coinage had at last been publicly decried. A further charge was, that he had bought up base money to the value of ;^ 60,000 sterling at the rate of between ten and twenty to one profit. Part of this specie he had con- trived to smuggle in a consignment of beer to the head- quarters of the army, and thence issued it for their pay at sterling value. The profits he had invested in the purchase of Irish estates for himself or his friends. Lastly, the late Treasurer was accused of having in his official capacity allowed the accounts of Babington and Bromley, the Irish clothing contractors, for goods delivered by them to the army to the value of ;^5 2,5 26 Sj. i\d., which they had received K 130 Elizabethan Society. in five payments under Elizabeth, these goods never having been delivered at all. On the. whole, it was calculated by the Crown that ;^ 15 0,000 at least was owing on the late Treasurer's accounts, and ought to be recovered from his heirs. This was in the 21st year of James, and the case dragged on for another five or six years. In Hilary Term, S Charles I., progress was made in the case, and it was ruled — i. That Sir George Carey was not responsible for the frauds of clothing contractors, wherein the Crown had already received satisfaction. 2. That it had been proved that his first two accounts were clear of fraud. 3. That his discharge by the Commissioners of Accounts was a binding discharge against the Crown, the questions of fact being referred to the official auditors for examination and report. Meanwhile, it was agreed that unless better proof were forthcoming from the Crown officers, the defendant should be dismissed. On the nth February following, the case was finally heard and the report of the auditors taken. This was in substance as follows : — They found, on examining the former Treasurer's accounts — i. That during the period of his first official account he received and disbursed base money only. 2. That he received, at a later date, certain sterling money out of the English Exchequer, and was further charged with a sum of ;^6i,44S \os. gd. on behalf of the clothing service, but that it did not appear that this money had actually passed through his hands. On the contrary, it was probable that the con- tractors had received their remittances directly from the English Exchequer ; and in any case the Treasurer at War was. not responsible. 3. That Sir George had received, under his third account, ;£" 249,875 is. $^il. in base copper, of which he was allowed ;^ 195,200 14s. T\d. for the expenses of the army ; leaving a balance in his hands, also in base copper, of ;^S4.674 6j. 9|^,, which, after certain necessary deductions, was equal to the sterling sum remaining in the Treasurer's hands at the conclusion of that account, amounting in base money to ;^48,520 loj. \\d. 4. That the date of the procla- mations and of the alleged depreciation made no difference The Official. 131 in the above statement. 5. That the depositions of some of Sir George's official colleagues confirmed these conclusions. Upon this report the Court decided to act. It recapitulated its rulings upon the points already decided, and added thereto its opinion that the remaining accounts were equally authentic with the earlier ones. Its decree therefore was that the defendant, Sir Edward Carey, should be clearly dismissed out of the Court — in other words. Sir George Carey's name was cleared from every imputation of fraud or negligence. This judgment was a foregone conclusion. The Crown had prac- tically abandoned the charge, and had acquiesced in the case for the defence. The reason is not hard to find. The Careys had always been favourites with the Crown, and their influ- ence was just then at its highest. It might have been thought that public justice, not then very exacting, had been satisfied by the confiscation of humbler culprits' ill-gotten wealth. Be- sides, if a decree had been awarded for the Crown, there was no knowing where the matter would end. If Carey were guilty of the charges made against him, it was only too evident that he had a host of accomplices, men who had now risen to high place, all useful implements of the Crown. That the latter showed itself herein wise in its own genera- tion is amply proved by the history of later years. Amongst the gallant defenders of a desperate cause none spent blood or treasure more lavishly or less grudgingly than the Careys and their allies. It would not have been very difficult for the Crown to have proved, had it been so disposed, that at least the lowest proportion named in its information had been re- ceived by the Irish Treasurer at War in sterling money ; that a considerable interval did actually take place between the issue of the new coinage and the proclamation decrying the base money ; that the troops in Ireland were miserably clothed and fed, and that they were in all probability left to supply their needs with base money raised to a fictitious value ; and that all this went on under the eyes and with the official connivance, at least, of the Treasurer at War, who passed the accounts of his dishonest subordinates, and shielded them, by his signature and oath to their discharges, from the detection 132 Elizabethan Society. and punishment of their crimes. All this the Crown or its advisers might have proved, or at least enough for the purpose of discovering the guilty and recovering the plundered sub- sidies of the nation. But instead, it chose to pose in its patriarchal office of director of religion and morality, and to hand down to posterity one more official interpretation of the parable of the unjust steward. CHAPTER X. THE LAWYER. Twice within the period of our known history has the judicial , prerogative vested in the sovereign been split up and appor- tioned to centralised tribunals and appropriate officers, to meet the requirements of a litigious nation and to facilitate the workings of justice. On the first occasion, in the reign of Edward I., the Courts of King's Bench Exchequer and Common Pleas were erected out of the diffused jurisdiction of the Curia Regis. On the second occasion, during the early half of the sixteenth century, the Courts of Star-chamber and Requests, and the Councils of the West and North were sharply defined amongst other developments of the equitable func- tions of the King in his Chancery and the judicial powers of his ordinary Council. So far, both Chancery and Council had confined themselves strictly to supplement the action of the Common Law in matters beyond the cognizance of that purposely short-sighted power. The reputation of the latter and of its expounders stood high. It was a national force on the side of property and progress against any inclination towards retrograde despotism. It had the earnest support of the mercantile por- tion of the community, whose whole interest was in peace and order. The landed class, moreover, was effectually protected, thereby from the exactions of the Crown ; for on the whole, the Statute law was framed at its expense. The clergy were little affected either way, for they were able in most cases to evade its obligations and to elude its penalties. We may easily believe that at the commencement of the Tudor period the influence of the Common Law was a paramount force in 133 134 Elizabethan Society. the State— civil force, that is ; for the maxim that brute force is no remedy was never better illustrated than during the civil wars of York and Lancaster, when men of the gown prospered exceedingly, while their neighbours of the sword worked each the other's ruin. It may have been jealousy of the common lawyers and their clients, the radical and free- trading burgesses, who with the turbulent mob of fell-men, tuckers, or weavers, made up the population of the boroughs, the bugbears of the Crown, that caused the extension of the latter's equitable jurisdiction into every county and every court. Historians, however, attribute this move of the Crown to its desire effectually to prevent a repetition of the late scenes of feudal discord, oblivious of the fact that the remedy was here to be sought from the law of the land, and was, in fact, obtained under the Statute of Liveries. What then was the object of thejCourt of Star-chamber, of the Court of Requests, of the Court of Wards and Liveries, ^nd of the Councils of the West and North } To protect the dignity of the Crown, answers the historian, against its refractory or turbulent vassals ; and so by preserving the balance of parties (a process completed by hanging the commons and robbing the Church) to pave the way for the Crown's autocracy. Was ever any theory so ignorant or wrong-headed as this >. What had the Crown to gain by humbling, or even hanging its subjects innocent or at least untried, and what did it per- sonally gain by its autocracy .' Let us put the question in another way. What made the people in general, high and low, so turbulent and restless ? The answer is this, that the industrious trader with his cupboards full of hoarded capital, taking in to the full the capabilities of the land under proper treatment, was striving mightily to invest his savings in reversions and mortgages ; that he bid fair to accomplish his object easily enough at the expense of the ignorant and sensual class of owners or their customary tenants ; that an enormous amount of litigation arose between the parties, in which the Common Law, looking only at unalterable facts committed to durable parchment, decided always in favour of the mortgagee — and that in the absence of any higher T^he Lawyer. 135 authority the disputants appealed to their weapons without the slightest hesitation. This same competition for land raised the value of com- modities and enforced economy in labour ; there was no chance of pillage, still less of charity, and thousands clam- oured for bread. Perhaps they coupled with this cry the memory of the old church which had once remitted their rents or fed them on plenteous doles ; perhaps it was the promise of a new future of reform and rapine dawning upon them that excited their outcry ; theirs was, after all, a second- ary question depending upon the economical development of the land, a question soon resolved, as we have said, by hang- ing 20 per cent, of the agitators. , Was the Crown, then, without an interest in the struggle ? It was at least committed to the cause'of order as the guar- dian of the public peace now threatened on all sides. The prosperous colonists of the Welsh Marches had for two gene- rations or more ministered to the excesses of their Keltic neighbours, thriftless and luxurious like all half-civilized races. The security of the usurer was his debtor's land, and protecting himself from the penalties of the statute, he claimed the forfeiture of his bond and held the spendthrift at his mercy. The result was a state of actual border warfare ensuing from debt-seizures and reprisals ; the central courts were blocked with processes for executions and bills for re- lief in equity. To avert the horrors of civil war, the Crown acted as it has done since, as it is doing now. It removed these cases for the hearing of a special commission, qualified by its residence to deal with local colouring — with the men- dacity of the Kelt and the rapacity of the Saxon. Hence the Council of the West, the object of the common lawyer's special hatred. In some more favoured districts the respon- sibility of the Crown in the maintenance of order was far lighter. Yet it had other interests, more selfish ones it is true, at stake. Once before it had attempted to check subinfeuda- tion, and had failed, but the process now going on struck at the whole feudal system. Doubtless it mattered nothing to the Crown whether tenure was by precarious knight service 136 Elizabethan Society. or by the nominal fealty of free-socage. But it was material whether its old vassals, bred upon their lands, as dull and meek as their own beasts, should be evicted wholesale to make room for an abler class, impatient of tyranny and with little reverence for State-craft. If the servants of the Crown were harassed by imprudent liabilities, or it may be were unable of themselves to get in their suitors' obligations ; or their ten- ants were refractory, or in turn oppressed ; the remedy was ministered in the Court of Requests. Another and a more defenceless class of vassals, those under age, were taken care of by the Court of Wards and Liveries. The Chancery at large was open to all subjects, great and small, for relief in equity. The Star-chamber and the Council provided for special cases. Now with regard to all these permanent developments of the Crown's prerogative of justice, the common lawyer was, as it were, in the presence of his sovereign and upon his sworn allegiance. " The king can do no wrong," was the reply which greeted him upon every fresh remonstrance, " therefore unless yoUr client stays pro- ceedings before your hum-drum tribunals, to the Fleet or Marshalsea shall he go for gross and manifest contempt of this honourable Court ! " So the merchant usurer risked his capital ; so the common lawyer lost his clients ; so the Crown found devoted servants ; so Justice was appeased. But the policy which grew thus fairly at the outset bore deadly fruit hereafter. The parliamentary opposition which swept the Stuarts from their throne was composed Of mer- chant capitalists and the new generation of landowners, marshalled and led by the common lawyers. On the whole, however, the Crown acquitted itself of its self-imposed task with tolerable success. If it had allowed the question to be worked to its logical conclusion, the result must have been truly appalling. Even with the acquired wisdom and civilization of another century, the brief reign of the pedants reduced the people to a condition of ungovern- able frenzy. It may be ethically correct that causes shall be followed by their consequences ; but in our own time we have not yet the dimmest prospect of a state of moral The Lawyer. 137 order, in which the practice of such a principle could be tolerated without risking an explosion which would dismantle the whole fabric of society. It is notorious that the Chancery and Common Law were thus in conflict during the whole reign of Elizabeth, and that the latter was rather roughly handled by the prerogative. In fact, our historian has re- presented the affair as one of intolerable oppression on the part of the Crown and patient submission on that of its much abused subjects ; whereas in truth the interference of the Crown was but for the purpose of protecting one-half of its subjects from the rapacity of the other half. It would, in fact, be almost impossible to give a tragic turn to any proceedings for contempt of Court. Take the following case, a good enough example of its kind, and attempt to point out some- thing tragic or heroic or martyrical, or indeed anything but what savours of the ludicrous in all its bearings. Court of Requests. 18 Nov^^S Anno II. Eliz. Robert Loyd, pit. ; Sir Edward Bray, deft. " Richard Quarles, a messenger, sworne that he served the injunction on the Deft., who at the receipt of the injunction and sight of the decree saide at the first that he would be contented to obey any- thing that the Masters of Requests had done therein ; and forthwith the lady his wife came to him and did stand with him, and immediately he changed his former speaking, and said that hee would pay no money, hee did know the worst, it was but to lie in the Fleete, etc., and thereupon 21 Novemb^ an attachment was awarded to the Sherife of the Countie of Surrey to attach the body of the said Sir Edward Bray, kn? , defendant." Now this same knight, who was one of the most improvi- dent spendthrifts of his time, had often in his own necessities appealed to the Equity Courts against the indiscriminate pro- cedure of the Common Law ; so in this case at least the Crown acted with fairness towards both classes of its subjects. In other cases, however, the Crown could at best observe a partial neutrality. It could not shield some of its subjects from the consequences of their own vice or misfortune. The best that could be done was to commit them to the 138 Elizabethan Society. tender mercies of its ministers, with whom they were to mak< the best bargain that circumstances permitted. Thomas Bracebridge, Esquire, of Bracebridge Hall, Lincoln shire, and Kingsbury, Warwickshire, the descendant of ai old Saxon family, had a son and heir, William, who, witl the laudable prudence common to the youth of his genera tion in such matters, had engaged himself to marry a con siderable heiress, the daughter of an alderman of Coventry His father, on this proud occasion, agreed to settle upoi his son an annuity of 40 marks a year in land. Almos immediately afterwards, however, the father lost his wife and consoled himself for that loss by marrying her maid This second wife played the part of the traditional step mother, setting father against son, and the whole familj generally by the ears. In this she was ably seconded bj a neighbour of the family, a certain Sir George Griffith, whc seems to have been a professional mischief-maker. As thf quarrel waxed hotter, the old gentleman lost all sense o self-respect in his wrath, and disinherited his son, settling par of his property upon two favourite servants. This scandalou: proceeding resulted in a Chancery suit, when a compromis( was arrived at, the eccentric head of the family being sternl} warned by the Lord Chancellor to order his affairs better ii the future. This, however, in the presence of his second wifi and her children, he was obviously unable to accomplish Meanwhile the disinherited son, William, had prosperec fairly well. He still kept up the feud, for we find him a law with his father ; his stepmother and his three younge brothers being parties to the suit. The whole of thi litigation was with regard to the manor of Kingsbury part of which had been specified in the settlement of 4( marks in land made upon the heir's marriage. WilHan Bracebridge left a son, who died young, and two daughters his co-heirs. One of these, Margery, married Waldyve Will ington, head of another old Warwickshire family, betweei which and that of Bracebridge there had been a previou connection. This Waldyve^ uncle, his father's elder brothei had died leaving another Margery his heir, who married Si The Lawyer. 139^ Ambrose Cave, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. Thus not only did Willington and Cave acquire an interest in the family of Bracebridge, but also an indirect claim to meddle in its affairs ; for Willington claimed, through his wife, the rights of William Bracebridge, the lawful heir, and the children of Sir Ambrose Cave's marriage might eventually inherit this same right in their turn as heirs to Waldyve's precarious issue. In the meantime the Bracebridges had not profited by the Chancellor's warning. Thomas, the second son and pre- sumptive heir, had grown up, and he too went to law with his father. It would appear that Bracebridge the elder, being' hard pressed for money, and loath to alienate his estates, had fallen back on the entail to secure himself; but his deeds being stolen from him, he was in a sad dilemma. Now it seems pretty certain that Sir Ambrose Cave was working in the matter, making use of the son against the father. How- ever this may be, a compromise was arrived at by which it was agreed that Sir Ambrose Cave, to extricate the owner, should reconvey to him the manor of Kingsbury, and should receive himself a lease, from the latter, of the manor for a term of sixty years, with preferment of purchase and a clause against previous encumbrances. This was accomplished ; and Bracebridge was further bound in ;£'5oo that his tenant should not be molested in his holding. Having now introduced himself into Naboth's vineyard (so to speak), the next step of this unjust ruler was naturally to dispose of Naboth himself; for which purpbse Ahab's method was further resorted to. The Chancellor's object was to force on a sale, an extremity imminent by reason of the owner's embarrassments. Ahab therefore suborned Naboth's tenants and servants, and got up the following case against him. An annuitant of the Bracebridge family, in receipt of 53^. A^. yearly, had not received that sum for some years past. Taking advantage of this person's grievance. Sir Ambrose privately invited him to levy a distress upon his chattels as Bracebridge's lessee and the ostensible occupier of his Warwickshire estate. This done, an action was sur- 140 Elizabethan Society. reptitiously entered and damages recovered against Brace- bridge ; and Sir Ambrose Cave likewise claimed the forfeit of his bond for molestation in his holding through his lessor's neglect. The latter, wholly unable to find the money, was thus driven to sell at a sacrifice, his enemy having already the preferment of purchase ; or to seek his remedy at law. Open war being thus declared, Sir Ambrose Cave, making the most of his official position, presented a bill in the Court of Requests against Bracebridge for possession of the land in dispute under his agreement The latter in turn brought an action at the Common Law against the intruder, probably ' on the strength of his entail barring alienation, for we know that he was seeking to produce the depositions of witnesses in the place of his lost deeds. As it shortly appeared that he was progressing with this action. Sir Ambrose Cave ob- tained an injunction in the Court of Requests, and Bracebridge suddenly found himself a prisoner in the Fleet, until he was prepared to plead only in the latter court. On this under- standing the case was at length proceeded with, and posses- sion of the lands in question decreed to the plaintiff for want of the defendant's answer. Finding himself thus hardly dealt with, Bracebridge resorted once more to the recognised tribunals, but was again called to order, and the proceedings summarily stayed, a further date being fixed for receiving his answer to the previous bill. In this manner the case dragged on, much like the sport of cat with mouse, till the death of Sir Ambrose Cave soon afterwards in 1568. His claims seem to have devolved upon Sir Francis Willoughby, a neighbour and ally, if not in a closer relation with him. At any rate. Cave's grand-daughter married a Willoughby; and Sir Francis himself had great interests in the county. A new generation of Bracebridges were still busily continuing the family traditions. Thomas the younger was now head of his family and was at war with all his brethren, being in turn backed up by Sir Ralph Egerton, the new Chancellor of the Duchy. Next, Sir Francis Willoughby, who had purchased the reversion of Kingsbury from the late owner, joined in the fray, finding his acquisition The Lawyer. 141 grievously encumbered. Last of all, the Willingtons de- riving from the elder Thomas' disinherited heir, put in their claim, and the last remains of a property which had been inherited in unbroken line from pre-Norman times were swallowed up. A younger scion of the family, Anticle, by a fortunate marriage restored the fortunes of his house and perpetuated his line. The profession of the law was not, on the outside, a very lucrative one at this period of our history. In most cases the fees received were very small in comparison with the work done. Every man in those days was up to a certain point his own lawyer ; that is, he was well versed in all the technical forms and procedure. Therefore counsel were brought intd very close relations with their somewhat ex- acting clients, by whom they might be said to be chiefly instructed, the solicitor or attorney being rather in the posi- tion of an agent for the general conduct of cases. Nearly the whole of contemporary litigation was, in respect of real property, carried on therefore in the Court of Common Pleas, or by anticipation or appeal in the Chancery. There was little scope here for forensic eloquence ; that was reserved, such as it was, such as it can ever be, for the devoted heads of rebels or conspirators. The skill of the lawyer was employed in drawing pleadings, interrogatories, bills and answers ; his literary ambition was confined to collecting pre- cedents and taking down reports. But besides this routine of liis profession, the ambitious and successful lawyer had high interests at stake. He was in most cases connected with the land by birth and belongings, and the whole aim of his life was directed towards the acquisition of landed pro- perty and the foundation of a county family. For this he had great advantages, and used them to the full. As a con- fidential agent, as a usurer, as a grantee of the Crown through the influence of its advisers, or even as an enlightened speculator, the lawyer- of the sixteenth century was rapidly pushing his way into the ranks of the landed gentry, and, bnce arrived there, political influence was added to his other resources. One example of such a career is pre-eminent. 142 ■ Elizabethan Society. John Popham, the famous lawyer, courtier, country gentle- man, and judge of Elizabeth, was younger son of Alexander Popham of Somerset, descended from an old Norman family. His elder brother Edward succeeded to the family estates, he himself choosing the law as a profession. In this he not only struck out a line for himself, but his own connections and patronage, the only high-road then to wealth and ofSce, were drawn from another county, Wiltshire. There was, in truth, little scope left for his ambition and talents in his own county. Here the local practice was pretty well monopo- lized by his contemporary Hippesly, who was perhaps the most successful country practitioner of his time, and whose interest, though not so long established, was far more widely spread than even that of the Pophams. There were also good reasons for the young lawyer's adherence to the neigh- bour county. His family was related of old to the Darrells of Littlecote, Young George Darrell, William Darrell's cousin and early house-mate, was probably a fellow-student with Popham at the Temple. Besides this, Popham's grand- father had married the sister (co-heiress with her) of the wife of one of the Blounts of Gloucestershire. There had been a lawsuit about the property thus derived from the Popham's grandmother, the latter family claiming the whole. There was also a mysterious connection between these same Blounts and the Darrells of Littlecote. A Blount was in disputed occupation of 'some of Sir Edward Darrell's property ; a Blount was settled at Chilton Foliat ; and it was a Blount of whose murder Wild Darrell was afterwards accused. Another Wiltshire ally was the Earl of Pembroke. Popham had interests at Salisbury, and had married a Glamorganshire heir- ess, a county in which Pembroke was paramount and where Darrell also seems to have had some property in mines. It is therefore in Wiltshire that we find Popham early exercising his legal abilities. The first display of these was not apparently greatly to his credit, though the account is no doubt chiefly one-sided. The complaint against him was to this' 'effect. Thomas Pyke, a Wiltshire gentleman, had acknowledged a statute staple for ;£'iooo some years back to The Lawyer. 143 certain creditors, and had invoked the assistance of Popham in his difficulties with regard thereto. It seems that one or more of these creditors were not very sound in questions of religion, and Popham, who from his earliest youth was a very Saul amongst the Pharisees in his zeal for uniformity, took advantage of the fact to hint to the mortgagees the ad- visability of coming to terms. According to the latter, indeed, he " manaced them with terrible wordes and othes," that if they did not enter into a bond to himself for £600, to deliver up the statute in question to be cancelled, they " sholde dye for it." Moreover, Popham was accused of having, with a casuistry savouring but little of his creed, repeated to his client's creditors the opinion of some of their own friends in favour of the surrender, which opinion it transpired had never been expressed. Through the above " deceitful practices in the law," Popham gained his point, and the statute was surrendered, and duly cancelled, but not before the pre- cautionary bond had fallen due and been rigorously executed. The sufferers therefore prayed for relief, as being intellectu- ally unequal to cope with such " subtle and crafty " men as Popham and his client. It may seem strange, considering the lawyer's known attachment to the Darrell family, and his intimate connection at a later date with its last representa- tive, that his name should appear as counsel for the latter's refractory tenants in a suit brought against them by their lord. This was in the case of the Wanborough copyholders, and Popham's well-known signature is certainly appended to the answer of the latter, accusing their lord of unlimited atrocities. Curiously enough, however, this same answer was a supplementary one, made under these circumstances. Dar- rell, foiled in the Court of Requests, and acting under special advice, pushed on this hitherto neglected Chancery suit ; and on the sam^e day (28 October) that the order of the former Court was published, served the defendants with notice to put in a fresh answer in three days, the subpoenas being ante- dated 26th of October, and the answer being due on the 29th October, no fresh motion or order having been made in the case, which stood adjourned from Easter. The answer 144 Elizabethan Society. could not be produced in time, and the defendants were at the mercy of the Court. Is it possible that Popham was here playing Darrell's game, and had secretly suggested and permitted the ruse ? One thing at least we know, that Pop- ham, from professional, if also interested motives, was capable of carrying through a yet more desperate expedient. A few years later than the above incident, we find an anonymous letter, addressed to one of the judges, presumably, the con- tents being to the following purpose. The writer states that Darrell has given a bond to one of the Essexes for £\QO, half of which has been repaid ; that complications have arisen with regard to the same, and action has been taken by the creditor ; that though the balance has been tendered in open court, the forfeit is persisted in out of malice, and that a Nisi Prius has issued to hear the case at Bristol, the person to whom this is addressed being destined to preside thereon. Therefore, considering the hardship of the case, this person is earnestly requested to find means that the case may stand over in order to gain time, for next term proceed- ings in Chancery will be instituted on the debtor's behalf, and adds the writer, " I shall be ready to gratify you as occasion shall give." Now this significant note is in Pop- ham's most villainous handwriting, and concludes with his favourite phrase, " yor loving friend." The morality of the transaction is not perhaps below the standard of the age, nevertheless it supposes that standard a low one. From this time forth indeed, Popham was consulted in almost all Darrell's legal difficulties. The client himself was intimately versed in every detail connected with the law of real property, and he ordinarily employed several first-rate counsel, besides some admirable attorneys, notaries, and agents who were with good reason devoted to his interests. But Popham (the greatest lawyer of the day, after Plowden and before Coke) was the master-mind that directed and revised everything. The draft of a bill, interrogatories, or answer, carefully prepared by the joint wisdom of Darrell and his ordinary advisers, was another document when returned from Popham's perusal. The Lawyer. 145 It is only fair to Darrell himself to say that he had managed to connect his name with some of the most intri- cate cases of the day. His matters had come before every permanent Court in the kingdom— in the Chancery, the King's Bench, the Exchequer, the Common Pleas, the Courts of Wards and Liveries, Requests, and Star-chamber, the Spi- ritual Courts, and were even the subject of grave discussion in the Council Chamber and the Presence. He had appeared at the County Assizes, County Court, and Quarter Sessions ; and his own steward or agents, as his representatives in the various Manor-Courts of his estate, always had their hands full. In his business relations with his relative and friend, Popham certainly appeared to advantage. Darrell was fidgety, querulous, and self-willed to the last degree, faults almost redeemed, however, by the gentle constancy and pa- thetic melancholy of all his expressions touching himself and his friends. Popham was the opposite of this. He was confident and peremptory, but ever courteous in tone towards his unfortunate client. These characteristic features are fully seen in the existing correspondence between the two. Popham's success in his profession was rapid and com- plete. In 1 571 he was called to the "state and degree" of Sergeant-at-law. In 1579 he was Solicitor-General, and in 1581 Attorney-General. In 1592 he succeeded Sir Chris- topher Wray as Lord Chief Justice of England. For ten years previously he had been constantly employed by the Government in delicate matters of State, such as the ex- amination of Seminary Priests, recusants or suspected per- sons. His signature appears as one of the commissioners for certifying the names and conditions of members of the inns of court who were " dowted " of " backwardness in religion " — " much noted and suspected of papistry " — or who were amongst " such as be not known to come to church." Popham, though a moderate man and of liberal views in private life, was a sturdy Protestant, and conscientious sup- porter of the Government in matters concerning the uni- formity and supremacy of Church and State. As Attorney- General he was equally employed in the examinations and L 146 Elizabethan Society. confessions of conspirators ; and he took a very decided part against Throgmorton and his supposed accomplices of the old Catholic party, as well as in the Babington conspiracy. Besides this professional occupation, Popham was consulted as an authority on affairs of trade and finance, and in every question connected with the tenure of lands or offices. In his highest judicial post, especially when presiding at the State trials of his time, his tone and bearing were in pleasant relief to the displays usual upon such occasions. But pro- bably the pleasantest side of the great lawyer's life must have been seen in his position as a country gentleman. Here his birth and early experiences qualified him to figure to admira- tion. It is said that the Littlecote housekeeping in Popham's time was on a more liberal scale than that of any other country seat in the kingdom. There, the story continues, he once entertained his sovereign, and usually half a dozen fine gentlemen from the Court ; and there too, in his absence, his lady vied with her partner's hospitality by gathering round her the fair great ones of the county in a drunken carouse. If this were true, how great the difference between the later period of ostentation and vulgarity, and the earlier one asso- ciated with the gentle scholar Darrell, and his romantic and ill-starred love. But such stories probably are equally worthy of credit with the rest told of Popham's riotous youth, and his predecessor's tragic end ; admirable specimens of the facility of those ingenious gossips, the romantic biographers of the seventeenth century. APPENDIX I. NOTES AND REFERENCES TO CHAPTERS I.— X. APPENDIX TO CHAPTER I. The INVENTORIE of the iMPLEMENtS AND HO0SHOLD STUFFE, GOODES & CATTELLES, OF S^ HENRYE PAR- KERS K''^, 1551-1560. , NoRwycH. Tappestrye hanginges of Arrys withe beastes & foules ix peces iiij". A pece of Arrys under the Southe wyndowe . . . iij^ TwoO square framed Tables xx'. A grene clothe fot the same, seven quarters brode . x^ij^ iiij"*. Quysshyns of Tappestrye withe redd Roses and the Pome Garnett vj-xv*. A longe wyndowe clothe of Tappestrye week*, w*. the redd Rose and Pome ganett for the Baye wyndowe . vj^ viij^. A chaier of Blacke velvett embrodeyd w*; twoo tres of goiild withe A. & G xvj'. In the great Chumber there. A lytle Stoole of Blacke velvett embroderyd withe a cypher of an H. A. R. P. . fformes yoined, foure . . - A ffyer shovell .... Stooles, yoigner's wocke, xij". An bide Cubbbd Twoo great aundyerons of fflemyshe worcke Tonges one paier .... nj . nij , vj^ viij'', viij', xij* vj^ viij* viij'*, In the cHuMBEfe By the BOTi: house. An yerne Tostisge fforcke ij*. A Candle plate of Latteh xx'*. 149 150 Appendix. A carpett for the Cubbord of Tappestrye worcke fygured w*. Conyes & other beastes . . . ... x'. An olde cubbord standing at the Stayers headd . . viij''. A newe Countepoint of Tappestrye wocke . . xxvj^ viij''. A Lytle stoole covered withe Nedle worcke checkerid w*. white, blewe & tawnye cruell xvj"'. A long carpett for the Baie wyndowe of Turkye wocke . xl^ An olde Cubbord xij''. A Carpett to the same of yelowe '\ tawnie satten embrodeyd xx^ A newe trussinge beddstedd corded . . . . v'. A beddstedd Boorded ij"*. In the Lader. A cubbcJd withe a lock '\ keye xij'*. A Sowssing Tubb for brawne iiij*. Twoo bryne Tubbes and a verguys tubbe xij**. A great Trough xvj*. a great choppinge bloock iiij''. Woodd lyenge in the yarde worthe ij^ In the Chappell. A yoyned table to saie masse on xij*. A carpett of Tappestrie withe conyes and ffoules [blank.] A newe cubbord xij*. In the newe chumber at the great chumber doore. A Beddstedd corded — x^ A ffetherbedd and a bouister — x?. In the Chappell Chumber. A carpett of nedle wocke borderyd withe Roses vj'. viij*. A Redd chaier embroderid withe white and Redd Satten xiij^ iiij*. A lytle stoole embroderid withe white and Redd Satten iij". iiij*. fFoure curteyns of blewe Saye for the wyndowe iij^ iiij*. A Quisshyn of white Satten embroderid withe Redd Satten x^ In the galeye. Hanginges of grene Saye throughowt — xl A Mape ffrariied withe tymber xij*. In the Chumbr, over the kytchin. Guide tappestrie wocke of Imagey, seven peeces xx^ A Beddstedd corded T; an olde matt xx*. A newe fether- bedd '\ a bouister xxvj'. viij*. A counterpoint of verders withe Appendix. 1 5 1 conies and fFoules xviij'. viij''. A Tester or Canapie of Redd Damaske xxxiij^ iiij"*. and ffoure curteyns of Redd sarcynett [included.] An olde cubbord vj"*. A Steynid Cloth over the chymney withe Marie and Gabryell iiij'*. A paier of tonges vj''. A ffyer shovell vj"*. In the Wardroppe. A louse beddstedd of waynscott iij^ iiij**. Twoo great standing chestes withe one mayne cheste — ^vj'. viij*. In the Gentlemens Chamber. A lowe Beddstedd corded iij^ iiij*. A newe trussing bedd- stedd corded withe a matte — ^vj^ viij"'. A Tester of blewe and white velvett, panyd 1 embroderid with cope worcke of gould — xxvj^ viij"*. Three Curteyns of sarcenett panyd w*. white 1 blewe vj'. viij*. An olde cubberd — vj*. In the Chumber, next the potes lodge callid the Stuardes Chumber. A Trussing beddstedd kervid '\ corded withe a matt therupon. A Tester '\ valunce of Redd and grene saye panyd. Three Curteyns of the same — xiij^ iiij*. A fetherbedd, a Boulster a Counterpoynt of tappestrye wocke w*. Beastes and ffoules lyned withe Canvas — xxxix^ A Chumber within the said Chumbr. A lowe beddstedd corded — ^xij*. ffoure stone pottes "^ ij dossen of plate Trenchers xiij'. ix*. A Bason and Ewer of pewter v=. ' Twelve candlestickes, wherof ij Latten x'. iiij "of Pewter iij'. and ij of Sylver fashion ij^ — xvij". A Perfumed chafing panne— ij=. In the Butterye. A dosen of fyne Trencho". cased — ^viij*. Sixe glass', whereof twoo are goblettes, ij pottes '\ twoo Jugges, whereof one is blewe — ij'. Sixe plate dishes for frute — iij'. 152 Appendix. In the Utensyles for the Chumber. Twoo pillowes — iij^ iiij*. A posseft Boule of Pewter xx*. A Basen of pewter ij^ Chaumber pottes, iij — -t. Sixe quisshyns of Bridges Satten embroderyd withe velvett xxx^ A paier of playeng tables vj^ Tables of Bone, caret. In the Kytchyn. Twoo greate yerne cobbenes xiij^ iiij'^. A Barre of yerne vj". Twoo hyngylls of yerne ij^ Twoo paier of pott hookes xij^ '\ a gredyerne vj''. sum. xviij'^.- Twoo strayners ij*. Three great Spyttes and a Byrd spitt — vj'. viij*. Twoo Tryvettes ij^ one fyer forck iiij^ and an yerne ffleshe hooke iiij^! — ij^ viij''. A skyllet withe ffeete and steled of yerne x*. A Bygge Kettle withe an yerne Bayle xx*". A brasen morter w*. a pestell' — viij^ A Grate for bredd ij"". Twoo Buckettes hoopid with yerne ffor the well, withe lynkes and Bailes of yerne iij^ iiij'^. A Tubb for fethers j". A Cowle xij*. a Kymnell iiij^ a great munde iiij'^. — xx"*. A garnishe of pewter vessell xxvj^ viij*. Twoo pewter plates for Tartes xiiij*. In the Chumber where Master Barington Laie. A fetherbedd and a Boulster-^xxVj^ viij"*. A paier of blanckettes '\ a matte iij^ iiij*. A counterpointe xvj^ In the Grete Flour. A turnid beddstedd coded x^ A new fetherbedd a matt and a Boulster xP. Twoo fustian blanckettes xviij^ In the Backhouse. A boultinge troughe xvj*. A knedinge troughe ij^ — iij^ iiij''. An olde great fate w* a cover — Hxf. Twoo bottelles, ij pailes of wood, a syve and a baskett — xij*. In the Brewehouse. Three fates w'^ a coyler xxx*. Sixe kimenelles, iij'. Spven hoggssheddes iiij". viij*. Tenne barrelles v'. ffyve haulf Barrelles XX*. A kymnell to knede manchet iiij"". An yerne cole-rake iiij*. A Brewing Copper iiij". An oulde Ledd vj=. viij''. Twoo gret yerne Appendix. 153 dishes 'f. A mowlding boorde viij*. A stowke and a ffowke vj''. A scloke baskett & a Tuiiell viij'*. A yete, and twoo shovelles iiij". A paile withe an yeme bayle ij*. A cover of wodd j*. A wote troughe vj*. A paier of slynges ij**. A Buckett with an yerne cheyri, xij^. A washinge boule xyj*. A Bucking Tubb xij"". A Bucking clothe and a paile, ij*". In the Bardo House. A Bote, twoo Ores, with a dieyne and staple v'. Three beddsteddes boorded. A bedsted in the stable and two hawkeperchies — ij^. Sum Total, liiij". xvj?. iiij*. Abstract of the Goobs of Nicholas Butler, Esq., OF Rawcliffe, Yorks, 1577. Stock. 6 fat oxen ^1^ 6. 8. — 12 calves ;^4 — 11 ditto ;^2 13. — to "theynters" ^4 — 4 steers £6 — 35 kine and bulls j£4S — 5 " wheyes" (4 years old) j£6 — 28' draught oxen ^"jg 6. 8 — 100 sheep and 60 lambs jCis — 4 geldings and i stag_;^i6. 3. 4 16 nags, fillies, and mares j£ij — swine jQ8. Crops. Garnered crops — (wheat, barley, malt, oats, rye, hay, pease) — ;^io2 6. 8. Standing Crops— 3 acres of rye (40 wyndels per acre) ;^io — 80 wyndels of barley ;^4o — 30 sieves of oats ;^30 — 20 quarters of salt ;^i3 6, 8. Implements. 7 ladders 5/ — 4 com wains &/ — 3 muck ditto (with wheels) 25/ — 3 turf ditto 6/ — 4 marling ditto (with wheels) 21/8 — 13 yokes with bows and 12 teams 12/ — 6 harrows (^complete) 10/ — 8 spades 3/4 — 2 sacks 2/ — 4 ploughs and 6 coulters, &c., 10/ — 3 axes 16'* — 2 wain-ropes 20'*. Household Stuff. 20 feather-beds ;^i6 6. 8.^22 mattrasses ;^6 6. 8. — 82 coverlets ;^2o— 70 blankets ;^io — 16 bolsters j£4 — 18 pillows 20/— Bed-coverings £s 6. 8.— Hangings 15/— 54 pair linen 154 Appendix. sheets ;^i2 14 — pillow-bears 21/ — 4 cupboard cloths 20/ — 10 board ditto 10/ — 9 round ditto 18/ — 29 diapers and napkins 20/ — 24 linen ditto 26/8 — 5 towels 10/ — 1 1 round ditto6/8— 16 sacks & two window sheets 16/ — 30 cushions 26/8 — 18 "roeheads" £,\ — 6 hides 33/4 — 16 chandeliers 10/ — 3 casks 3/ — chairs 10/ —stands 14/— "Tumells" 10/— glass 26/8— Timber ;£8— Brick 40/ — Turf 40/ — Lime 10/ — 2 iron wedges & 5 "wymbels" 20* — Iron 53/ — Tallow 20/ — Bedsticks, Cupboards, chests, Tjoards, forms, Twewing lead £,\<-^ 6 — Pans & caldron 46/8 — Brass £,/^ — Pewter £,^ — i silver goblet (double gilt) £^—2 salts (ditto) ;^io— I salt (parcel gilt) £1 6. 8. — 17 spoons £6 — " Chippe" or "Nutte" 50/ — Chalice with a cover (double gilt) £1 6- 8 — Silver and gold ;^4o — Money £,^ — Nicholas his apparel ;^2o — My lady his wife's apparel £/\o — Debt and covenant;^ 5 and 80 marks — Cash by hands of the bailiff ;£'so. Total ;^ 36 7 2. 8. See also Appendix to Chapter II. APPENDIX TO CHAPTER II. See Appendix II. APPENDIX TO CHAPTER III. Customs of Borrowdale, Cumberland, 1583. 1. The customary tenants enjoy the ancient custom called tenant- right; namely, "To have their messuages and tenements to them during their lives, and after their deceases, to the eldest issues of their bodies lawfully begotten. And for lack of sudi issue, the remainder thereof to the next persons of the same blood, paying yearly for the same the rents accustomed to the lord or lords of the said manor, at the feast days of St. James the Apostle and St. Wilfred, by even proportions." 2. The tenants shall be ready at the bidding of the Lord Warden of the West Marches, to serve at their own costs, namely, as horse- men in summer and footmen in winter. Appendix. 155 3. The tenants shall pay on change of the lord i gods penny, and at their death or on -change or alienation of their holdings i year's rent. 4. The tenants shall pay a fixed tithe-commution. 5. They shall have all their fishings at the usual rents. 6. They shall have all underwood and top or lop ^-not being timber). 7. They shall have suificient timber for the repair of their houses, hedges, and implements by view of the bailiff. Duchy of Lanes. Surveys, 25 Eliz. Customs of the Manor of Rodley, 1591. A tenant, man or woman, claiming to be admitted by inheritance, shall at the first court offer the steward 2/. At the second court the heir must produce his pedigree. At the third court trial shall be had of the claim by the homagers. If the claim be allowed ; and no tenant holding by lease from the late occupier be found, then the claimant shall be admitted, paying as relief (when the ancestor is living) twice a half-year's rent, or (when the ancestor is deceased) the usual heriot. Every tenant of the manor must hold by deed and service, and must not sub-let except by deed executed by himself on surrender to another. If a tenant charge another tenant with holding away his free-land as base-land, let him produce the deed of such lease before the third court and one day of grace, or he shall be put out by the homagers. If a tenant is wrongfully dispossessed of his holding he shall apply to the steward for his precept to be issued to the Reeve-bailey, who shall collect the homagers and cause the plaintiff to be put in till better proof be found by the defendant. Eee of the Reeve, a groat. Every tenant by custom of reeve or tything lands not already charged with a lease, may let the same to another for any term not exceeding 30 years. If such lands are already charged with a lease made by a right heir, the incoming tenant shall only receive the sub-tenant's rent The above sub-tenant may sub-let within the term of his lease. If the right heir die without making surrender, his eldest son or eldest daughter shall come to the court and offer service as tenant. 1 56 Appendix. If such children die without issue, the eldest of that blood shall inherit ; but the half-blood shall not inherit. A new Reeve-bailey shall be appointed every year in turn as the steward's deputy, and shall be sworn in by the steward. If any of Her Majesty's customary tenants die, the reeve shall assemble the homagers and take an inventory, and gel in the heriot, except upon shipping. All actions, as for trespass, &c., shall be tried by the free suitors, half suitors, and all that owe service to the Manor Court. Duchy of Lanes. Surveys, 33 Eliz. Grazing versus Tillage, 1590. The tenants of the manor of Caborne, Lincoln, imposed a fine on T. Danbye, Gent., at a court holden 26 Apr. 31 Eliz. for keeping more than the usual number of sheep upon certain lands there. Depositions of \ntnesses prove— 1. That before the Dissolution of the monasteries, the Dean and Chapter of Thornton had (according to one account) no sheep walk there, but Only arable : (according to another account) they had a walk for 25 sheep only. 2. That after the Dissolution Sir Robert Tyrrwhit made a gfeat sheep walk there, maintaining (according to different accounts) the following numbers — (a) 120 (;8) 400 (y) 460 (8) 600 (e) 280 {-q) 340. 3. That 40 years since, Sir Thomas Lammas brought in 280 sheep which were impounded by the tenants. 4. That nevertheless more than that numbei' has since been maintained there. 5. That it is notorious that there is only feed on the said lands for 25 sheep after the old rate. Duchy of Lanes. Surveys 32 Eliz. Appendix. 157 "A TREWE INVENTORY WITH THE JUSTE VALUE OF ALL SUCHE GOODES, CATELLES, HOUSEHOLD STUFFE AND LEASES FOR TERME OF YEARES AS WERE THOMAS KEMPET, LATE OF SyPENHAM, BuCKS, BY MARGARET HIS WIFE" (his ADMINISTRATRIX). 15S9 TO 1568. Stock — 22 Milch kine £,11 — 2 Bulls £,-i>- 6- 8 — 12 Bullocks, 3 years old, _^is — 10 Bullocks, 2 years old, ;^io — 7 Bullocks, X y' old. jE,% — 6 mares and geldings for the team ;^i2 — 3 hackney mares £^\o — 6 colts ^d — 140 sheep jE^id — 10 draught oxen ^^2% — poultry 3o^ Crops — Wheat 180 quarters, ;^r6o — Barley 60 quarters, ;^3o— Rye 60 quarters, ;j^3o — Pease, oats and " suche other come," £i, — 30 loads of hay £,1%. Furniture, Sec- Plate and household stuff ;^ 8— Cart ware ;^5. Profits — Lease of the farm of Sypenham Court worth above all charges £,%o yearly, on an average of the profits for the last 4 years, namely ^£'320. Chancery Proceedings, misc : Eliz. Inventory of the goods and chattels of J. Holloway OF the parish of Kingsbury in the county of Southampton, circa 1560. Stock— 8 Kine ;^i 37? 65? 88? 39? 10? TO ? 64? 13? 14? 26' -IJ- 3 4 IVl. -j^ R _S_ • X - J_ Q 1 i - ! 7 Chancery Proc. misc. Eliz. State Papers Domestic, Eliz : 1552 Sep'. 15. 1553 May 17. iSSS Jul- 25. Aug. 3. 1558 Mar. 8, June 2, Nov'. 19. Appendix, i6i 1561 Mar. 23, Jul. IS, Decf 1562 Aug. 9, Aug. 17, Novf 16, Nov^ 18. 1563 Jul. 14. 1565 Jul. 29, Aug. 29, undated. 1566 Septr 1568 Septr II, Septf 13. 1569 Decf II. 1570 Feb. 20, Aug. I, Aug. 2, Septr 20, Oct. 13, Oct. 22. 1571 Jan. 10, Mar. 7, Apr. 28, Jul. 19, Aug. i, Aug. 14, Sepr 4, Septr 8, Octr 5, Octr 8, Novr, 26, Novr 30. 1572 Jan. 7, Jan. 31, May 5, Apr. 26, May. 1574 Mar. 1575 Jul. 4, Novr 3, Deer 15. 1578 Feb. 18. 1579 Jan. 13, Mar. 28, Deer 1580 Jan. 2. 1581 Vol. CLi. No. 9. 1586 Mar. 1588 Deer 8. 1589 May 13. Audit Office Declared Accounts. Bundle 10. Rolls 25 & 26. The Auditor's note alluded to above is as follows — " This book is not signed by the Commissioners forasmuch as at ray goinge into the country after Mydsomer Terme, anno xvif°° domine Elizahethe regtne, uppon the makinge upp of this Account w'."" was shewed unto the Comyssioners and by them not fuUye concluded, Mr Greshame desyred to have the Duplycamente to remayne w* him until! my cominge to London againe, for that I hadd all his warrauntes and acquittaunces, wheruppon I delivered him the Duplycamente of his Accompte. And the Quenes Mat'" beinge at Killingworth that somer, Mr Gresham founde that friend- shippe by the Erie of Leycester to gett this Accompte passed, and gat the Comyssioners handes to his Duplycamente before, my cominge upp to London. And the foote of th' Accompte of his Duplicamente written by whom I knowe not. So as I was fayne to borrowe his Duplicamente to fynishe and p'feck th' Accompte ; w^" sayde Duplycamente is enrolled before Mr Fanshawe." M 1 62 Appendix. The foot of the Duplicament here mentioned contains the following further information : — " And after upon the return to Her Mat'? by the s? commissioners of their whole doing, and of how many somes of money by the said S' Thomas demaunded to have been allowed to him they have not made to him allowance according to his desier, whereby his debte remayned as above (;^io,883 155. 4d.). Her Mat'? havinge in remembraunce the faithful and paynefuU service done to Her Mat'f both in theis services and otherwise hath remitted to the s? Sr Thomas Gresham the s? debt wholly as by a pardon under her great Seale shall appeare — and so he is discharged." " Epitaphium crass! illius ac sordidi usurarij Johannis Gresham militis stercorarij, in inferno sepulti." Losely MSS. Plautus has " miles stercorius " as a term of abuse. APPENDIX TO CHAPTER VI. THE TABARD INN, SOUTHWARK. Return of a Jury to a writ of Elegit, 7 May, 43 Eliz., issued in the case of " Partridge v. Mabbe," who find, upon their oath, that the said premises contain as the " true half " : " Una camera vocata a darke parlor adjacens ad viam vocatam the streete, una camera super eandem et unum cellarium subter ean- dem, una aula vocata a haulle, unum conclavum vocatum a parlor, una coquina insimul adjacens, una camera super aulam predictam, una alia camera proxime inde adjacens, due alie camere vocate cooki loftes super easdem, una alia camera super conclavum vocatum the parlor, una alia camera vocata the entrye chamber, una alia camera vocata the newe chamber, unum domicilium vocatum a ware hawse, una alia camera vocata the flower de Luce, unum domicilium vocatum an oven howse, una camera vocata Mr. RusseWs chamber, unum car- bonarium vocatum a cole howse, una stabula in duas partes diversas, unum garettum vocatum a garret or oat lofte super predictas (?) cameras vocatas the middle chamber, the corner chamber, and Maister Hussye's chamber, una alia stabula vocata a duble stable, una alia camera vocata a hay lofte super eandem . . . aceciam unum curtelegium vocatum the unpavyd yarde." Appendix. 163 RETURN OF THE INNS, TAVERNS, AND ALEHOUSES IN ENGLAND, 1574-7. Alehouses County. Inns. Taverns. or Tippling Houses. Total. Berks 63 17 252 332 Bucks 72 5 325 403 Cambridge 13 3 189 205 Cornwall — . 30 132 162 Cumberland 29 4 623 656 Derby 18 5 216 239 Devon 120 40 400 560 Dorset 28 17 209 254 Essex 77 17 399 493 Herts 125 14 333 472 Kent 45 12 645 702 Lincoln 54 10 702 766 Leicester 31 2 392 425 Midds. 132 24 720 876 Nottingham 5 1023 1028 Norfolk — — 480 Rutland 4 I 100 105 Surrey 77 8 369 454 Stafford — 105 105 Southampton 67 14 324 405 Suffolk 97 65 287 449 Somerset 100 16 215 331 ' Warwick 29 8 447 484 Westmoreland 92 I 280 373 Northumberland — -^ 354 York 239 23 3679 3941 Chester 24 9 390 423 Durham 21 9 493 523 Canterbury II 4 22 37 Ipswich 15 4 2 21 Cinque Ports 28 18 123 169 Northampton 17 4 39 50 St. Albans 27 2 26 55 Boston 5 I 27 33 \oy 164 Appendix. o tJ % Ti H ■ftj h ■s m R -teg Appendix. 165 APPENDIX TO CHAPTER VII. S? FRANCIS WALSINGHAM'S MARRIAGE. By a deed dated i July, 1566, Sir Francis Walsingham, Her Majesty's principal Secretary of State and Privy Councillor, in con- sideration of his marriage with Dame Ursula, late wife of Sir Robert Worsley, settles upon that lady and her issue lands to the yearly value of 100 marks, for which he is bound in 2000 marks. Also for the further advancement of the said Dame Ursula, Sir Francis con- veys to her brother-in-law, John Worsley, the manor and mansion- house of Parkebury, co. Herts, on the 22nd July, 1566, to the like uses, and is bound therefore in 1000 marks ; as well as to give security for ;£soo in plate to be bequeathed by him to his said wife upon whom by a still later deed he settles the manor of Bradford, CO. Wilts, valued at ;^ 100 by the year. These dispositions were the subject of a Chancery suit between the knight and his wife's trustees in the year 1576. The Worsleys were an old Lancashire family which is represented in the present day. >\ PENELOPE DEVEREUX'S "RICH" HUSBAND. See Astrophel and Stella, sonnet 24. Rich fools there be whose base and filthy heart," " But that rich foole who by Mind fortune's lot," etc. ASTROPHEL AND STELLA. At the risk of reverting to a hackneyed subject, it may be of interest to notice, as possibly a personal experience of the poet, the following extracts from an overlooked passage of this poem, the eighth song, which forms a sufficiently curious narrative of an un- happy passion and one which, whether it were an actual experience or not, had taken such a hold on the poet's imagination that he recon- structed the whole scene years afterwards in prose in his " Arcadia." " In a grove most rich of shade " Where birds wanton musike made . . -" 1 66 Appendix. " Astrophel with Stella sweet " Did for mutual comfort meet " Him great harms had taught much care. "Her faire necke a.fouleyoke bare " But her sight his cares did banish " In his sight her yoke did vanish." " Wept they had alas the while " But note/ teares themselves did smile " Sigh they did, but now betwixt " Sighes of woes were glad sighes mixt " Love did set his lips asunder " Thus to speake in love and wonder." " Stella sovereigne of my joy " Stella in whose shining eyes . " Stella whose voice when it speaks " Stella in whose body is " Graunt, O graunt, but speech alas " Failes me, fearing on to passe . " Graunt, O deere, on knees I pray, " (Knees on ground he then did stay) " That not I, but since I love you " Time and place for me may' move you " Then she spake ; her speech was such, " As not eares but hart did touch . . Appendix. 167 " Astrophel sayd she, my love " Cease in these effects to prove : " Now be still, yet still beleeve me •' Thy griefe more then death would grieve me . . ." " If that any thought in me " If those eyes you praised be . ' If to secret of my hart " If more may be sayd, I say, " All my blisse in thee I lay " Trust me while I thee deny "In my selfe the smart I try "Tyran honour thus doth use thee " Stella's selfe might not refuse thee " There withall away she went, " Leaving him to passion rent In the sonnet which follows this song and its sequel (No. 87), the theme is renewed and condensed in the two following stanzas : "When I was/orst from Stella ever deere, " Stella food of my thoughts, hart of my hart, " Stella whose eyes make all my tempests deere, " By iron laws of duty to depart : " Alas I found, that she with me did smart " I saw that teares did in her eyes appeare ; " I saw that si^hes her sweetest lips did part "And her sad words my saddest sense did heare." Now apparently this sonnet should precede the song by some two years, the interval which elapsed between Sidney losing his girlish love on her marriage with Lord Rich and finding her once more, shortly before his own marriage, bearing her yoke as the ill- used but ever-virtuous wife of a worthless husband. 1 68 Appendix. LETTER FROM J. WICKERSON TO SIR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM. Pointing out "the great charge of contienc that he hath taken upon him by his rashe contract w* M"? Frances w'."" to rehnquish wilbe a perpetual scropple and worme in contienc &' hazard of body &' soule w* is more to be regarded than all the goodes in this trancytory wourld. May it therefore please you' good honor, of you' unspeakable goodness & godly consideration, to weigh & have remorse unto his perilous stat, and vouchsafe ye word at the length to grant you' consent and goodwill for performance of their sayd contract in the holy state of matrimony, that their bodies remayne not in continuall torture & to the losse of the inestimable grace and mercy of God by livinge in adultery & theirby persever a scornfuU spactacle & mockinge stoke to the wourld." The peti- tion is grimly endorsed by the lady's father, " Desires to bee enlarged after his long imprisonment and y? I would not any longer continune my dislike of his contract w* M'? Fraunces." Doniestic State Papers, Eliz., March 1583. WALTER DEVEREUX, i^t EARL OF ESSEX. This nobleman was 2? Viscount Hereford, created in 1572 Earl of Essex. He served his sovereign faithfully during the Nor- thern rebellion, and afterwards in Ireland, where like so many more of his countrymen he sacrificed his fortune in vain in that quagmire of anarchy, and incurred besides large debts on account of his government. Particulars of his indebtedness to the Crown may be found in the State papers for England and Ireland of the year 1576. The letter above referred to, and which is apparently ad- dressed to the French ambassador at the Court of St. James, is as follows : — " Messure Dozzylle, — W? my hearnest comedacyons witoe youe, and glade toe heare of youre healthe, and doe hope of youre fryndelye offar youe tenderde untoe me askyde for, and oure made costraynethe me toe crave youre frynde- schipe ase toe be so musche y' fryde as toe lende me forteye poundes,' and I shal be or wul be bounde untoe youe for ye payement thereof. Good mesure, sende me youre mynde by ye berer heare-of, hoe hyse mye servant James — I desirde as youe knowe whether youe maye doe thys fryndely pleasure or noe. Chuse, Wyscheynge your healthe untoe y« tuyssyone of chryste, I bed youe farewelle. Yot humbyyelle to coman. Essex, Untoe hyse Excelence Messure Dozzylle, etc." Appendix, 169 ROBERT, EARL OF LEICESTER. Chancery Proceedings Eliz — B. b. ||- Midds : Blunt & Dudley. Ibid. Miscellaneous — Nich. Bacon Ibid. R. -i^ Robserte and Lytleton. SIR ROBERT DUDLEY. • Information was made for the Crown to attach the lands of Sir Robert Dudley of Kenilworth and Dame Alice his wife for contempt of the King's order, that the said knight should return from foreign parts. In view of such proceedings S? Robert had already con- veyed his estates in trust to certain relatives and allies amongst whom were Sir Thomas Leigh father, and Sir John Leigh uncle of his wife. Judgment was however given for the Crown. 6 Jas. I — E. K. R. Decree Book I. fo. 177. THE BANBURY PEERAGE. The decision of the Committee of Privileges in this case was fraught with the most important consequences to the stability of the entire Peerage of this country. The arbitrary adjudication of a disputed paternity in the case of an heir born in wedlock was perhaps a dangerous precedent At least it gave dire offence to the heralds and with some cause, for the end is not yet. APPENDIX TO CHAPTER VIIL THE ANGLICAN BISHOPS. " Who is the most diligent Bishop and prelate in all England that passeth all the rest in doing of his office ? I can tell, for I know him who it is ; I know him well. . . . There is one that passeth all the others and is the most diligent prelate and preacher in all England. And will ye know who it is ? I will tell you. It is the devil. Among all the pack of them that have cure, the devil shall go for my money, for he applieth his business. Therefore ye un- preaching prelates, learn of the devil to be diligent in your office. If ye will not learn of God, for shame learn of the devil." [Latimer : Sermons, p. 70.] See also Spenser and Martin Marprelate, etc. 1 70 Appendix. In fact, there seems to have been a consensus of opinion unfavour- able to the English bishop. Denounced alike by Catholics, Angli- cans, and Puritans, they existed only by the goodwill of the Crown, or rather by its contemptuous toleration. Even well-meaning bigots like Parker and Whitgift appear in pleasant relief to theologians of the school of Aylmer and Cox — except for purposes of religious or political partizanship. There were twenty-four Enghsh bishops in 1577, enjoying a gross revenue of some ;^23,ooo, and these had the pastoral cure of over 9,000 ' churches, whose incumbents were still more inadequately rewarded. Can we wonder then if the prelates were tempted to support their temporal dignity at the expense of Christian charity and even of public decency ? Can we, moreover, avoid indignation at the reflection that the ancient revenues of the Church, the oblations of pious benefactors during five centuries, had been wantonly squandered by its sovereign head, to the undoing of the souls and bodies alike of the poorer members of the community — disestablishment aggravated by misendowment ? THE CASE OF WILLIAM WARYNG. In most fpiteouse wise complayning sheweth unto yof honorable Lordship yo' daily orator WUlm. Waryng of the town of Pembrugh in the c5 of Harford, cordwaner, of & upon the wrongful vexacons & trobles to hym comytted and dor by one Sir William Higgins parissh prest of Pembruge and by one maister Hum' ffrey Ogle, clerk, Cemensary of the dioces aforesaid and his deputies. That when yor orator which had alwaies delited to use and occupie his bowe, and to encorag( other men to do so, on Tuysday in Ester weke in the xxth yere of the Reignf of our nowe sovereigne lord Kyng Henry the eight ; with other his neybours & honest company, for avoydinge of dyce and carde tables and all other unlawfu gamys which were then by comandement prohybett, and sliotyng to be used ant occupied, toke theyr bowes and therewith passed their tjmie till matyns, and thei come to the church and herde ther dyvyne service, that is to say matyns ant masse from the' begynning to the ending as may be sufficiently proved. Tha notwithstanding Sir Wm Higgins therfor syted yor orator and other ij of hi neybours to appere before the said Cemensary at Lemster on Tuysday then nex ensuying, as they then did and the said Cemensary upon the examinacon of then could fynd no cause of punyshment and so dismyssed and discharged then thereof. Albeit the said Sir William Higgins still contynuing his malice and intendini to put yor orator to hurte or vexacon, sklander and cost undeserved ; left th medelyng with yor orator 'is neybours and called hym iij tymes in the Church in oon daye. And so likewise on another day in these words, "Come up William Waryng and doe the penaunce," where he had no such penaunce to hh injoyned. Nevertheless the said Sir William yett of his further malice, on th day of S, Edward ( ? Edmund) then next ensuing suspended yo' orator, who the Appendix. 171 required a copie of the snspencon & could not have it. And wheras on the day of the holy apostells Philip & Jacob yo' orator come to the Churche to here the dyvine service as belongs every Christen man to doo, the said Sir William withoute any lawfull auctoritie or cause resonable violently putt yo' orator out of the Churche, as before had doon, and he desired hym if he had anie suspencon against hym to let hym have a copie thereof, and then sued for his remedy to one John Blackston clerk deputy to the Cemensary ; albeit by the synyster in- veglyng of the said Sir William wold not here yo' orator till he had hym first sworne to be obedient to the Church & the lawes thereof, and then enjoyned hym without any fault proved against hym that he shold goo about the churche bare- foote & bare-leg in his shirt iij Sundays before the crosse in processon, the first day at the cathedrall churche of Herford, and the other ij days in the pissh church of Pembruge & then yor orator perceyving the cruell sentence of the said Blackston made labor by his friends and oifred to gyve him a noble to relese hym of his penaunce whiche he wold in nowise doo unles yo' orator should give hym xxs which was not well in his power to doo j and whereas he then offred to give hym 40? if he wold respite the matter till the comyng home of the Cemensary which he wold not but that yo' orator must doo penaunce or els he wold sue hym for pjuiy. And yo' orator then seeing no remedy brought a token from hym to Sir WiUiam Higgins that he was assoyled, and on the morrowe after beyng Ascencion daye delyvered the said token and was suffred to tary in the Churche all matyns ; and at high masse to put hym to rebuke & displeasure was commanded oute of the church before all his neybours which offred to be boundeu in C. marcs to save hym harmles. And the nexte Souday, mynding his othe, he toke hys jomey to Herford being x myles from Pembruge, in a greate storme of wynd rayne and could, there to doo hys penaunce and coming to Herforde aboute the hour of ir of the clock, wete thorowe all his clothes to the skyne, as the prests were redy to goo procession ; and then and there he was compelled to doo off all his clothes to his shirte, which was wete. And so in his shirte, barefoote, bare-leg and bare hed went aboute before the procession wt a candeU in his hande. And when the procession was come into the Church yor orator was compelled to knele upon the could stones & on his bare knees while the prestes song an antem w^ the sufiragys before the Roode, and lykewise before oure Ladie of pitie duryng another anten with the suffragys there songen. And in like wise also before sainct [ ] * Shryne while an anten w? the suf&agys was there songen and so imto the quere where he offred his candell & knelyd a grete season and toke such coulde after his hys labor with knelying on the bare stones so long that it Rawted in hys body & in his hed. And afterward by the helpe of God & phisicions to the greate cost & charges of yot said orator it ran out as well at his eeres as at his mouthe and all his here fell of his hed and so by the space of di. a yere continued in sekeness w'. as moch payne as any man myght live w? ' The author's knowledge of local archaeology- does not enable him to supply this hiatus. lya Appendix. Dr COX, BISHOP OF ELY. The principal references here consulted are as follows : — State Papers Domestic, Elizabeth : V. 24. XX. 5. 12. 17. 17I. xxxiv. 2, Ixxiij. 29 cv. 85 to 90. (And occasional notices for the years 1562, 1565, 1568, 1575, 1576, 1577, 1580.) Chancery Proc, Misc. Eliz. Nich. Bacon. The Palatine Jurisdiction of Ely, it should be observed, was really of the nature of a Royal franchise, the bishop enjoying the Jura regalia under an early grant. The "good averring" or "abearing," mentioned at p. 114, was the " bonus gestus," a far more rigorous obligation than " the Peace," and one usually resorted to for political offenses. ^ The story of Cox's confiscation of the maiden's steer has a re- markable resemblance to that contained in Paul-Louis Courier's famous ironical epistle to a " vieux marquis." COMMISSION FOR THE APPOINTMENT OF LEARNED PREACHERS AT RIPON. The Commissioners find that the said town is a great and populous city and has but six stipendiary ministers, paid by the Crown at £,(). 15. 4 per ann. each, who for the most part are very simple and unlearned. Also six clerks at ^^■^ per ann. each, and one quire-master at 40/ per ann. Wherefore it is reported that one godly learned preacher shall be appointed at ;^3o per ann. with two assistant ministers for preaching of the Word, celebration of divine service, and administration of the sacraments, each £,\^. Also two others for reading of prayers and catechizing at £fi. 10. Also two clerks at ;^3. These are to have lodgings assigned them in the Collegiate house of St. Peter and be regularly paid, without being allowed to hold any other preferment. Duch. of Lanes. Surveys 32 Eliz. Memorandum that the pious inhabitants of Bamble-tye Sussex were wont to contribute to support a priest at the Chapel of ease there for convenience of attending divine service. Now the Chapel is fallen into disuse and is used as an outhouse by Andrew Lord Windsor. Ibid. Appendix. 173 APPENDIX TO CHAPTER IX. EDWARD BAESHE. References to materials for the official career of Edward Baeshe, Surveyor General of Navy Victuals. State Papers Domestic, Elizabeth. 1558 Aug. 8. 1559 Jan. 14. 1562 Aug., Octf 30, Novr 1565 (undated). 1567 Jan. 1574 Apr. 20, May 24. 1575 June. 1576 July 13, July IS, July 17, Aug. 5, Aug. 6, Sepf 28. 1576 (undated). 1578 Feb. 21, Feb. 24, July. 1579 Aug. 24. 1580 Jan. 10, Apr. i. 1585 Mar. s> Nov. 22, Decf 31. 1586 Jan. I, May 6, Jul. 24, Sepf 14, Decf n. 1587 Jan. 27, Feb? 12, Mar. 12, Mar. 13, Mar. 18, Mar. 19, May I, May 10, June i, July 26, Aug. 9, Oct^ 13, Nov^ iSS8 Jan. 29, July 3, Septf Audit and Pipe Office Declared Accounts. I July 1547 to 28 June 1550 Ed. Baeshe & R. Wattes Surveyors of the Navy. 29 June 1550 to 31 Dec' 1556 Ed. Baeshe, Surveyor General. 1 Jan 1558 to 31 Dec' 1564 Ed. Baeshe & J. Elliott, Survey^ General. 2 Jan 1564 to 30 June 1587 Ed. Baeshe Surveyor General. Audit— Bundles, 1784, 1785, 1786, 1787, 1788 & 172. Pipe— Bundles, 1389, 1390, 1391, 1392, 1393 & 154. 1 74 Appendix. Chancery Proceedings Eliz. Bv, 10. io. 19. _e^ Chancery Proc. Misc. Eliz. Nich. Bacon. From one of these we learn that Edward Baeshe was grandson o Richard Baeshe, his descent being as follows. Richard Baeshe I I Richard Thomas Edward Alexander Upon Alexander's death, about 1567, Edward Baeshe claimed a heir-at-law the former's estates, consisting of lands in the Forest Deane and the office of Forester therein. A counter-claim was how ever raised by the half-brothers of the deceased, under a deed, whicl Edward Baeshe asserted to be forged. 28 June, 1567. The pedantry of the age eschewed as far as possible the roo "Nav."- The official equivalent was "for marine causes," with whicl we may compare " pour les affaires dtrangbres," etc. " Marinarius was likewise preferred to "nauta," and "amiral" to "navarch. The etymology of " Amir " was even then under discussion. (Cott MSS., Otho E. ix.) The office of Surveyor-General of victuals for the Navy wa eventually filled by Marmaduke Darrell (afterwards Sir Marmaduke) with a few breaks, between 1587 and 1622. This knight was 1 cousin of William Darrell of Littlecote, with whom he corresponde( occasionally. One of his letters, reproduced here, gives a mos graphic account of the execution of Mary Queen of Scots, a Fotheringay Castle, at which he assisted in an official capacity. SIR GEORGE CAREY. References to materials for the official career of St Geo. Carej Treasurer at War and Lord Deputy in Ireland. Appendix. 175 Pipe and Audit Office Declared Accounts : I Mar. 1598/9 to 31 Mar. 1600— S^ Geo. Carey, Treasurer at War and Master of the Exchange. I Apr 1600 to 31 Mar. 1601 Ditto. Ditto. I ApT 1 60 1 to 31 Mar. 1602 Ditto. Ditto. I Ap' 1602 to 30 Sep' 1603 Ditto. Ditto. I Oct' 1603 to 30 June 1606 Ditto. Ditto. Pipe — Bundles, 244, 251, 1395. Audit — Bundles, 287, 288, 289. E. K. R. Decree Book, vol. iii., fo? 339, 347, 352. Hil. 28 Jan. 5 Car. I. „ II Feb^ „ „ Chancery Proceedings, Eliz: CC 10 II . 1? _a_ 12 The balance of ;^75,ooo required to make up the sum named in the information against the contractors should be accounted for by the lavish distribution of hush-money to the officers not immediately concerned in the transaction. This indeed was asserted as a fact by the prosecution. URIAH BABINGTON AND ROBERT BROMLEY. References to materials for history of clothing contract frauds, 1603-6. Pipe and Audit Office Declared Accounts. Pipe — Bundle, 157. Audit — Bundle, 173. E. K. R. Decree Book, vol. I. 6 James I. Trin. Mich. 7 „ East. Mich. 8 „ East. 9 „ East. Trin. Mich. Hil. 10 „ Trin. Hil. Vol. II. fo? 50, 59, 60. Vol. III. fo. 187. Chanc: Proc. Eliz. B. b. V. 176 Appendix. The Declared Accounts in the Pipe Office give us the history of another discreditable transaction, in which the names of Uriah Babington and Robert Bromley figure. This was in connection with the contracts for supplying the garrisons of Flushing and Brille, early in the reign of James I. This case was mentioned by the author in a contribution to the Antiquary, August, 1880. APPENDIX TO CHAPTER X. THE BRACEBRIDGE FAMILY. Chanc. Proc. Misc. Eliz. Nic. Bacon. William Bracebridge V. Thomas Bracebridge. To restrain the defendant from disinheriting the plaintifi in violation of a settlement on marriage. Ibid. Eliz., widow of Thos. Dispute as to a settlement B. b. S8. Bracebridge and Si- and will made by the late mon Bracebridge Thos. Bracebridge the V. elder. Thomas Bracebridge the son. Ibid. Thos. Bracebridge Litigation regarding the B. b. 18. and Joyce his wife. Thomas Bracebridge the younger and John and Anthony Bracebridge V. Wm. Bracebridge. Manor of Kingsbury. JbU. (Misc.),) Thomas Bracebridge Concerning a settlement Eliz. Nic. Ba- the elder made before Sir Ambrose con. V. Cave in the Court of Re- Thomas Bracebridge quests. the younger. Chanc. Proc. (Misc.) Eliz. Nic Bacon. Ibid. (Single BiUs) 27 June 1565.' lUd. B.b.ff. Ibid. B.b. ,S. Ibid. W « VY. J, Ibid. W. Appendix. 177 To regain administration of the goods of S' Geo. Griffith dec? appropriated by the defts. under a bond. Walter Griffith V. T. Bracebridge and AntykilBracebridge. Thomas Bracebridge the younger. Thomas Bracebridge the younger V. Antykil Bracebridge. John, Anthony, Rich- ard and Prudence Bracebridge V. Sr Ralph Egerton and Thomas Brace- bridge. S' Francis Willoughby V. Thomas Bracebridge and others. T. Willington and Hugh Willington V. Thomas and Antykil Bracebridge. Bill for discovery of deeds concealed from him relat- ing to the Manor of Kings- bury. To dispute a settlement made by Thomas Brace- bridge the elder. Litigation regarding Manor of Kingsbury. the Suit for protection against previous incumbrances on the Manors of Kingsbury and Hurley. To recover lands settled by the late Thos. Bracebridge on plaintiff's grandfather, William Bracebridge. N 1 78 Appendix. LEGAL COSTS. Testamentary expenses of the administration of S' Edw. Darrell's estate. Ingrossing two inventories Counsel's advice .... Ingrossing a Quietus Solicitor's charges in three ridings up and down about the expedition thereof . . • . .50 £ s. d. 13 4 I I 10 3 4 " Charges layde owt agenst Thomas Hunte " (from Geo. Stod- dard's ledger-book). " A wryt owt of the Kings' Bench, callyd Alattadary (latitat), 5=. I?" " From the shryve of Kent to his baylle, 61 " "For a wryt owt of the Excheker, 15? loV " To the Baylle to sarve the wryte from the King's Bench, £1." " For making of it w'. the selle to the shryve, and the selle to the Baylle, 3= 61 " " For a wryt from the shryve to his Baylle for 'tachment, and for atachment out of the Excheker to the shryve, 3^ 61 " " Fysher his fee for Ester terme, 3^. 4I " " Mr. Manwoode for [his paynes, to make a Declaration in the King's Bench, 10'. " " Mr. Fanshaw's fee for Ester term, 5^ " " Mr. Manwood's fee in Maye, 10I " " Best his fee for 3 matters, £1 loV " The Secondary of the court for rettorne of 2 wrytts, 4' " "Mr. Manwood for his counsell, 10^ " " Mr. Fanshaw for his feye, 2^ 61 " " For prossys making out, 5^ " " Serving the same, 10^. " Appendix. Miscellaneous law expenses (from Geo. Stoddard's ledger). 179 " For making a warrant agenst Lanslet GryfFyn, 2^. " " For serving it, 2^ " " For warning him to appere at the cort, 2' " " To the offysor for his paynes, 2!" " The master of the Chancery for 'knowledging the Indentcher fore him, 2? " "Three rulings with extras, 15!" " To the skryvner for engrossing, ^1. 2 V Legal expenses incurred by the borough of Alborough in the suit Alborough v. Denton, 1598. s. d. Returning a Procurator . 2 8 Entering appearance . . ' . 6 Procurator's fees .... I His horse and dinner . 6 His fees two other times . 2 6 His horse, etc., two other times I Copy of the libel .... I 6 Drawing answer .... I Procurator's fees for 5 Courts from 20 Jan to I Aug 5 The same for 2 Courts . 2 Other charges w* he made I 8 Drawing interrogatories . 2 2 Money paid him in hand 3 A citation - 6 His fees from Christmas to Easter . 7 More for later courts 4 Other charges w"^ he made I 9 I 15 9 1 80 Appendix. The following letter gives an excellent illustration of a correspon- dence between a counsel and his client. It is undated, but probably belongs to the end of Elizabeth's reign. " M ' Scarminge — This order you muste give unto Fitch a coppie of yt and keepe the originall, only shewinge it unto him, as you doe knowe well enough this is for one yeares rent before the Bill ex- hibited, and sende for a subpena ad injungendura soe soone as you can, returnable the firste day of the nexte terme and then if Fitch doth not bringe in the monie, we will move an injunction which I had thought to put it into the motion this term but I thinke it would have hindered him for sowinge. It was good to have the cause harde in Trinitie terme whilst the corne is upon the grounde, where- by you may have satisfaction for your rente. Your man did give me lo* for my, motion and I have laied out for the order 3* the drawinge and 6* the enteringe which you may sende to M"!' Coole. The Answere I think is soe cautelous in respect it is above seaven yeares, we cannot by the rules of the courte make him answer directly, therefore we must accepte of it as it is. I have sente you both Fitch his Answeres and the Orders in the. Star-chamber for Mandick." [Unsigned and undated.] SIR JOHN POPHAM AS ATTORNEY-GENERAL. 1581. Examination of the Gryffyths for complicity with Parsons and Campion. „ Certificate respecting exchange and privileges claimed by Huntingdon. 1582. Acknowledgement taken of correspondence between Re- cusants. „ Sends information respecting seditious pamphlets. „ Commissioner for finding and punishing pirates. „ Gives his opinion in a clerical dispute. 1583. Memorandum as to the historical usage in the case of standard weights and measures. [Transcribed for the use of the Council on account of S' John's difficult writing.] „ Examination of S": J. Courving as to Somerfield's conspiracy. „ Examination of Neve as to Arden's papers and communi- cations. Appendix. i8i 1583. Notes upon the projected invasion by Spain. „ State of William Darrell's writ of error re West Bedwyn. 1584. Statement showing the complicity of certain Catholic nobles in Throgmorton's rebellion, „ Conference as to the commission for conveying away of Jesuits. 1585. Abstract of drafts of Bills to be passed in the present session : (i) For security of Her Majesty's person; (2) Against Jesuits ; (3) Against Libels ; (4) For perfecting assurances ; (S) For shortening Michaelmas term ; (6) For a subsidy and two fifteenths. „ Examination of Edmund Nevylle. „ Report concerning Mr. Wood, suspected of travelling for religion. „ Report upon the Bishop of Sarum's grant, and Lord Lumley's claim as Almoher to the goods of the Earl of Northumber- land, felo de se in the Tower. „ Certificate of forms for the entry of Customs returns. „ Certificate and opinion as to Recusants awaiting trial. 1586. Certificate as to the particular, offences of Babington and his accomplices. „ List of Priests a:nd Recusants lately committed. „ Acknowledgment by Babington of his cypher with the Scotch queen. 1587. Report upon the prisoners in the Tower. „ Report upon the trade with Muskovy, Turkey, and Ireland. „ Examination of Capt. Borough of the "Golden Lion" for cowardice. „ Opinion on examinations taken by the Council. 1588. Communication respecting the Spanish Armada. 1589. Opinion as to the Pope's Bull of Deposition and the trial of Lord Arundel, etc. 1590. Proceedings relative to the examination and torture of Semin- ary priests. „ Preparations for S' John Perrot's trial. APPENDIX II. THE DARRELL PAPERS. 183 m Plate VI. AUTOGRAPHS OF THE DARRELL FAMILY AND ALLIES. 1 86 Appendix. (I.) THE ANCIENT FAMILY OF THE DARRELLS. That Deukalion of the heraldic Genesis, William the Conqueror, did not rank behind him many warriors whose descendants were destined to take deeper root in this country or to bequeath to future times a legendary history more romantic and a recorded history more instructive than that of the " ancient family of Darrell." It is impossible to speak with certainty as to the origin of this family upon the Continent, whensoever it may have settled in Eng- land; neither is it to be expected that any mention of its local existence should be found amongst the entries in Domesday for Yorkshire, in which county the oldest known branch of the Darrells was established under Henry III. The seventh Darrell of Sessay from the reign of John is believed to have been the father of three sonsj of whom the eldest, Marma- duke, succeeded to the Yorkshire estates, while the second son, John, married a Kentish heiress and founded the branch of the Darrells of Calehill. The third son, William, married the heiress of Thomas Calston, lord of Littlecote, Wilts, and became the ancestor of the Darrells of Littlecote. Elizabeth Calston, the heiress of Littlecote, was baptized in the second year of Henry IV., and in the same year of his successor's reign she proved herself of age at the suit of William Darrell, to whom she was probably then given in marriage. The issue of this union was a son George, who only survived his mother ten years, dying in 1474. He was twice married, and was by his first wife great-grandfather of Jane Seymour, mother of Edward VI. By his second marriage he had an heir, Edward, who made the fortunes of his family at the Court, and whose official history will enable us readily to comprehend the formation of great landed estates during the early Tudor period. The direct line of the Darrells of Sessay had nearly reached its close. Sir George Darrell died 6 Edward IV., and left a son, Mar- maduc, almost of age, his heir ; but of him the heralds make no mention. Soon after the family estates went by marriage to the Dawnays. Appendix. 187 The Calehill branch was not distinguished by great alliances ; but in the next generation the last of the Sussex Darrells left an heiress who married a younger son of a Darrell of Scotney, from which union proceeded most of the Darrells who figure in Elizabethan times. Young Edward Darrell of Littlecote had powerful connections through other members of the family. His uncle Richard married the daughter of the Duke of Somerset, dowager countess' of Stafford ; and their daughter, his first cousin, married James Lord Audely. Another uncle, Thomas, married a daughter of one of the Rogers of Dorset, of whom we shall hear more presently. A sister, Eliza- beth, was, as has been already noticed, the ancestress of Edward the Sixth's mother. In the year before his death Sir George Darrell of Littlecote had, according to the usual practice of those unsettled times, devised his estates in trust to several distinguished friends or partizans, including the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Abbot of Malmesbury, and others. His son Edward was eight years old at his decease. During the next three reigns it is difficult to discover any infor- mation worthy of notice respecting this new head of the Littlecote family ; but in the third year of Henry VIIL the remission of his liabilities as sheriff for Wilts is recorded in the following excerpt : — WiLTES. In Magno Rotulo de anno primo Regis Henrici VIII. in Itinere Wiltes. Edwardus Darell miles Debet xxxv." xv.^ i* de remanente de cxxxvij." xx.** de plurimis debitis suis. Sed non debet inde summoneri per processum inde habitum T; consilio Baronum annotatum in memorandis ex parte Rememoratoris Thesaurarij de anno tercio Regis Henrici viij. vidilicet : inter Recorda de termino sancti Michaelis rotulo pretextu pardonacionis dicti Regis speciaUs prefato Edwardo facte inter alia de omnimodis debitis ante xxiij. diem Octobris anno tercio dicti Regis qualitercumque debitis sive perpetratis. Et quietus est. The Letters of Pardon referred to here are granted in the usual form to Sir Edward Darrell — " Nuper vice-Comiti Wiltes ; nuper de Litilcote " — and absolve him from his possible transgressions and shortcomings in the capacity of sheriff. Although Sir Edward was now in his 5Sth year, it must not be supposed that the allusion to him as " late of Litlecote " necessarily 1 88 Appendix. implies his decease, though had this been a financial discharge only (at the instance of the executors), such would possibly have been the case — to the complete subversion of the received genealogy. On the contrary he was but now entering on the most active period of his long life. In the 13th year of Henry VIII. Orcheston and four other Wiltshire manors were granted to Sir Edward Darrell by letters patent, which were confirmed in the next year. He was now one of the most considerable landowners in that county, and had added to his local influence by marrying his sister Mary to Sir Thomas Long of Draycott — perhaps one of the most important commoners in England, and with whose family his father. Sir George, had been on good terms. Sir Edward Darrell was thus doubly connected with the family of Popham ; whilst he himself married a daughter of Sir Richard Crofte, an official of the Court, and this alliance, like many more in the family, proved of extreme service to his great-grandson. There exists a blank warrant, addressed, there is the strongest evidence for believing, to Sir Edward Darrell, to collect the subsidy assessed on the citizens of Salisbury towards the recovery of the King's possessions in France and in other parts, dated 26 April, 17 Henry VIII. It was in these wars that his eldest son John was slain, at Arde, in Picardy, and that the young Henry Long, the latter's cousin, was knighted for gallantry in a cavalry action. It is well known that Sir Edward Darrell was vice-chamberlain to Katherine of Arragon — and in that unfortunate lady he found, as the evidence of her Privy Seals will prove, a generous and indulgent mistress. The following is one document of this nature, which is of some local interest. It is addressed " To 0' right trusty counsaillo' Sir Edward Darrell K' oure vicechamberlain and keper of o' pare of Chilton Folyat." Katherina the Qwene. By the Queue. We wol and comaunde you to deliver or cause to be delivered thre okes convenable for Tymber, To be takyn of our gift wt. in oure pare of Chilton Folyat as well for the reparacon of the Churche of Chilton Folyat whiche is in grete Ruyne and Decay, as for the re- paracion of oure tukking mill there. And these our Letters etc." At Grenewiche vj Jan. xvj Henry VIII. Appendix. 1 89 Another of this Queen's Privy Seals, dated 25 July, 21 Henry VIII., is addressed to her master Foresters and masters of the game to permit Sir Edward Darrell, being her vice-chamberlain, to hunt and kill one buck in summer and another in winter within any of her forests or chaces. In the same year a warrant was issued for the delivery of ten oaks in Chilton Park to Sir Edward Darrell. The last of the Queen Katherine's grants to her vice-chamberlain was made in favour of his heirs. Therein is recited that Sir Edward Darrell, lately deceased, was the Queen's baiUff and Receiver of her rents and profits within the manor and park of Chilton Folyat, and the keeper and farmer of her warrens and pasturage within the parks of Blagdon in Dorset and Fastorne in Wilts, and that he was indebted on those accounts for the sum of ^^219 9*. (td. Nevertheless, in consideration of his many and great services, and at the prayer of Dame Alice his widow and executrix, the whole of that sum is remitted and excused by Her Majesty. This claim was sworn and allowed Michaelmas, 22 Henry VIII. Letters Patent were likewise issued about this time to release Sir Edward's executrix from a debt of £,\ CI & bi :sl'^f O rf -J 3^ .- *^ flj M « S fa rS .So DO "1 en fn •a a .2 P .2 o Q s ■^.& -g-g 190 Appendix. The xxiiij* dale of Aprill in the xiiij yere of the raigne of of Sove- ragne Ladie the Quene Elyzabeth. Rec* by me Henrye Forteskue of Falkborne Esquer of William Darrell Esquere for the rente of the tenementes of Fedleton, Combe, Compton, and Hacklestone in the countie of Wilsher due to me for one half yere at the Annunciation of our Ladie last paste the some of sixten pondes eighten shillinges and five pence. Henrie Forteskue. Similar receipt for the rent of Balston, Helmes, Rygge, and Frox- field, being ;£\'] . 4 . 6, at the same date. Similar receipts by Henry Fortescue " in the right of Dame Maria my wife " for rents as above dated 9 Apr. & 16 Oct' 1573 ; 10 Apr. & 15 Octr. 1574 ; 16 ApT and 28 Octr. 1575 ; Receipts by " Mary ladie Darrell of Faulkborne wydowe " of the sum of 19;^ for rents of Balston, Helmes, Hanvills, Rygge, and Froxfield, for the half years ended 27 Apr. 1577; 30 Octr. 1577 j 26 ApT 1578 J 10 NovT 1578; 21 Apr. 1579; 2 Novr 1579; 30 April 1583. Receipts by Mary Darrell of ;£^34 for rents of Balston, Helmes, Hanvills, Rygge, Froxfield & Inkpen for the half years ended i May 1582; 4 Novr. 1582; I May 1583; 2 Novf 1583 & 28 ApT 1584. [Note hereon by William Darrell.] "Mary Forteskew alias Danyell hath received this iiij yeares past more rent than was agreed upon by xxviijl viij? contrarye to a bond." Lease from Nicholas Carter of Fyfield, Wilts, husbandman, to William Darrell Esq'? as his undertenant of and in one messuage & yard-land and one othere messuage and yard-land in Combe, now demised to the said Nicholas for term of his life by copy of Court Roll according to the custom of the manor of Combe by Henry Fortescue Esqr: and Mary his wife, in consideration of the sum of i£> ^y the said William Darrell in hand paid. 20 Sep' 1577. Appendix. 197 ■ < u Q M O U a H M < w u w o u a CO s o S^ 000 >o PI o 0\ CO u C « M - [*5 (4 H O u M H Eh a 2; o la VO rf 00 M N M re 4-) o H o H 73 S o ,3 S'^ pq o HIM Ov Hisn OV VO VO C4 H N ."^ o ,— , VO 01 M g M 1) vis g-o ^* b "a g "" O 4-. "SaSv Si -a " Pi O H o Eh a O 1 98 Rents Received by John THE Annunciation of BORDMAN AT THE FEAST OF THE Virgin Mary, 1589. Wanborough Rents, 3 16 8 Copyhold Tenants : 6 - - 12 - - 16 7 li Total: 38 3 9A Chilton Rents, from various Tenants : - 3 - s - 6 - 6 - 8 - 10 d. 4 3 8 8 4 ; Sopgrass Rents : £ 7 8 16 s. 6 3 10 4 13 10 d. 8 6 4 2 6 2 IS 3 13 4 - 8 4 Total : Ramsbury Rents : Tenants' rents ( Various : Daniel White for wood-money . Two others for ) the same . . J John Curre for San- den fee . 33 7 6 I 4 18 2 II 13 9 8 Total: 19 5 3 ^ Axford Rents : - I - S - 8 4 - 6 13 4 4 I 27 I II 16 10 4 40 - Total : II 7 4 Balston Rents : - 10 5 17 10 30 - 2 __ Total : S3 2 _ Total : 70 Grand Total : ;^252 5 10^ Appendix. 199 Money Received by John Bordman from the Sale OF Corn and Stock, etc., at Littlecote and ELSEWHERE, 1589. Wool II sheep-skins . 4 ditto A Bull's hide . Straw Ditto Various . 5 Calves sold at Little cote 2 ditto 4 ditto £ ^. d. 2 5 8 - 6 6 - 4 - - 3 - - 3 6 - I 2 I 4 - Wheat sold at Littlecote, at Marlborough, New- bury, and to private buyers : 28 quarters at 16? 32 ditto at 12' . 4 bus. at 18* 4 quarters at 12? 5 .. » 12- S"? 4 ,, » 12^ Various sales 22 2 3 2 2 8 4 6 8 3 Wheat sold at Axford : 3 quatters at 14? 61 . 2 i4qrs. 6 bs. at 15? 4"? 11 6 „ 6 „ at 17! 4"! 5 6 bs. at 2f I* . . - 3qrs. 4bs. at 17' 4* . 3 Various sales . . 9 3 I 12 o 5 256 - 19 4 I 10 - Total 928 Total: 52 I 4 £ s- d. Barley sold at Littlecote : 34 quarters at 9? .15 6 - 23 quarters at various price . . .974 Total: 24 13 4 31 Delivered to John Hayes for a debt of £2 1 : 4 bullocks at ;^3 .12 - 9 qrs. of barley from Littlecot . . 4 10 9 ditto from Axford . 410 21 - - Grand Total : 138 o o Money raised at Little- cote by two loans of ;^Soand;^i5 . 65 - - Total Receipts from Littlecote, &&, from all sources . ;^4S5 5 ^°a 20O Appendix. Payments at Littlecote, 1589. Wages of Servants at Littlecote, Easter, 1589. N. Richards, 50^ J. Bordman, 40^ G. Richards, 26^ 81 J. Curre, 20^. EHzabeth Popgey, 13'. 4I Other Servants, 26= SI; 23=. 4I ; 13= 4"? (3); 5=, 3% &c. Total ^17 3'- Wages at Axford. J. Pocock, 20? John, 16^ 81 Edith Geffrey, 13! 4I Other Servants, 16^ 81 (2) ; 11^ 4I; 7^ 11I, &c. Total, ;^5 2- 2^ Household Expenses, &c., at Littlecote, from 25 JanT to 12 July, 1589. 25 Jan': — 7 score 12"!^ of beef, 15? 10I 2 cheeses, 3! Charges at Marlboro', 4I Soap, 4I 2'^'°^ oatmeal, 5= 81 30 Jan': — Charges at Newbury, 10I I Feb':— 7 score 7'^' of beef, 17? 6 Feb'; — Charges at Newbury, 10I 8 Feb':— Charges at Marlboro', 4I 6 score 10";= of beef, IS- 2I 13 FeK — Charges at Newbury, 9I 32 couple of ling, 45'.; 2'^"'^ of cheese, 34^: 2 bus. of pease, 4! 2I 20 Feb': — Charges at Newbury, 10I 7 bus. of salt, 15! 27 Feb': — Charges at Newbury, 10I i|'^= pepper, (f.; cloves, 4I 8 Man — Charges at Marlboro', 61 27 Mar. — Charges at Newbury, 10I 3 Apr. — Charges at Newbury, 10I 8 score 5'*^ beef, 20' A beast's belly, 14I A quarter of mutton, 20I 10 Apr. — Charges at Newbury, 10I A neck of mutton, 61 24 Apr.— Charges at Newbury, 10I I May. — Charges at Newbury, 10. 8 May. — Charges at Newbury^ i^ 61 10 May. — 5 score i2'^='beef, 14'- 17 May. — Charges at Marlboro', 6. 6 score of beef, 15'. 29 May. — Charges at Newbury, 12I A quarter of veal and a shoulder of mutton, 2' 4I Appendix. 201 31 May.— Charges at Malboro', 4I 6 score 12'^= of beef and 2 neats tongues, 17^ ' 5 June. — Charges at Newbury, ro* A neck of mutton, 4'^. 7 June. — Charges at Marlboro', 6"? 6 score 16";= of beef, 17^ 12 June. — Charges at Newbury, 10I 14 June.— Charges at Marlboro,' 6'^ 7 score of beef, 17' 6"? A beast's belly and tongue, 16*! 24 June. — Charges at Newbury, 10'? 26 June. — Charges at Marlboro', 6*? 28 June. — 8 score of beef, 16! 81 Belly and tongue, 16"? 3 July. — Charges at Newbury, lol A quarter of veal, 20I 5 July. — Charges at Marlboro', 6'? 8 score of beef, 16^ 8"? Belly and tongue, 16"? 3 bus salt, 61 A quarter of veal, 201 A pound of sugar, 201 6";' of hops, 3? 12 July.— 9 score 12";^ of beef, 22! 4"? Belly and tongue, 1 61 3 joints of veal and a leg of mutton 3? Charges at Marlborough, 61 Vinegar, 3I Mustard, 2* Soap, 4I Vinegar, 4I &c. Total £\^ ■ 9 • S Household Expenses at Axford. 15 Jan.— Beef, 4^ 81 Two cheeses, 2= 81 I Feb.— Beef, 4! 81 8 Feb.— Beef, 3! 61 16 couple of hng, 22^ 61 i cheese. 2! 2"* io8'¥ cheese, 18! Total ;^2 . 18 . 2 Farm Implements and Utensils at Littlecote. Thread and mending a kettle, 61 Well-bucket, 12I Tar, 61 3 sieves, 12I A sheet for good-wife Batt, 3^ 4I 6 sacks and a winnowing sheet, 17^ 61 Three pair of harness and 6 halters, 2^ 61 Cart pannel, 12I Cheese-vat, 7I i'? pack- thread, 10I 6 milking pans, 2! 61 Hedging bill, 12I 2 cheese-vats, 81 29";' pitch for marking the sheep, 3" 61 2 salt-stones for the pigeon-house, 3^ A cover, 4? ♦Hedging- bill, 12I *7 milking pans, 2= 10I *2 cheese-vats 81 *2 sieves, 61 *A cowl, a *cover, and a *powdering tub, 5=. 8' *2 buckets, III *A butter-churn 3= *2 cheese-cloths, 9 * * For Axford. d 202 Appendix. cream pots, 6"! *3 barrells to put beer in, 7' 4I *i hogs- head, 3^. 41 *6 rakes, 9"? 3 buckets, 18I 3 hogsheads, 10'. 2 cheese-cloths, 10I Tar 61 Mending kettle, 4"? 4 harrows, 3'. 4"? Barrel of pitch, 10'. 2 bassen ropes, lo"? 7 glasses, 19* *Shovel, lol 2 prongs, 16'*. Nails, 3"? 6 rakes, ii*! Nails, 12* Shovel, 10* Total ;^S.4.9 Miscellaneous. Garden' seeds 3! 3* and 4' 7"? Rosemary seeds, 10* Rosemary, 61 Strawberries, gl *Brand-iron, zol 2 bottles of vinegar, 81 Pair of hose and shoes for Anthony Swayte, 2= 4I Strawberries 5I, 61, 81, and 12I Two pheasant-nets. 15^ Total ;^o . 18 . 9 Travelling Expenses and Carriage. Charges to London for three, 5^ 4I Charges there in dress- ing trouts 2! 81 Boat to Barne Elmes and back, 2! 81 Charges from London, for two, 2! 81 Mending a saddle at London, 4I Rob' Taylor's charges to London with trouts, 7! 4I Charges for one to London and back, 5I Mending a saddle and setting a slioe, 61 Carriage of garden-tools from London, 2! A box to carry badges from London, 61 Evan's charges to London, 5'. Lazenby's (10 July) 15? Jennen's 2! 61 James Melyns at his going away, 10! Thomas Williams on the same occasion, 13^ 4I Jenens, at his going to London, 2? 61 Alden, at his going to London, 10! Emery's charges to London and for wine there, 5^. Mending a saddle at Marl- boro, 61 Charges to London and home of this accountant, 4! 4I J. Horseman and Percy at their going to London, \\\ A messenger for Mr. Webb to go to London, 61 Hatton and another at their going to London with the geldings, 12^ Charges home from London, 4' Horse-dressing and malt, 12I J. Horseman when he sought Mr. Stubbs' mare, 4^ J. Curre, for the same, 61 Our charges at Wallingford when we did fetch the mare 18I Our horsemeat there, 12I Mr. Molyns for keeping the mare and colt, 13' 4I R. Phillips seeking for • For Axford. Appendix. 203 the mare, 15? T. Lazenby to London and home, 9^ 4I Anthonye's charges and James with trowtes, 6! Dressing the trouts there, 9I Charges of things home by waggons, 3^ 3I Mending a saddle, 6''. Total £fi .1 .\ Wages of Farm Labourers at Littlecote. Hey wood, for making malt 10I and 12I Osmond 2 days work, 6*, and 4 days work 16"? Gregory, felling and cleaving wood, 9'. 8* Walter Eyres digging want-hills, 81 Edney, 20 days work 3! 4* Good-wife Batt's wages 6! 8^ Edne/s work, 3? 4"! Osmond, for hedging and felling the coppice, 38 f Walter Eyres, Parker and Edney for helping with the Rick, 9* Osmond, 8 days work 2! 8"! Weeding wheat 26I 6"? Edwards, 3 weeks work, 18"? A Thatcher for 5 days work, 2! A woman "yelming" 14 days, 1I (f. Whitchurch, 28 days work, 13I 6* Plummer for thatching 10 days, 4I A woman "yelming" 10 days, 20*? Making hay, 17I 6*, Mowing the Wearmead, 17' 61 Sandes, 3 days threshing, . Rent of the Prebend of Axford, £2, &c. Total ;£3i5 9.8 Appendix. 205 Money Received in London from Various Sources, From April i6th to July 14TH, 1589. Received of his Worship, April 16* „ of Stephen Hyde . „ of the money from Ballett's of Mr. Scryven of J. Potter May 10* 16* I?* of Bordman's advance (;£^4o) of his Worship, which he left on the Table-board May 25'!" 26* June 1? ,rd )) 3 ■ of ;£^ioo from Thompson June 15* 16* of the remainder of ;^3o from Mr. Stubbs of Mr. Stubbs » July 3'? of his Worship, „ 12* of the remainder after Mr. Forrest was paid at this Accountant's coming down . . . . £ 3 - 6 - 5 - 5 - 3 - 5 - I - 9 S 2 4 2 2 s. d. 7 - 2 2 2 2 10 6 3 17 2 2 2 100 30 24 13 4 9 2 10 - IS 10 3 6 6 - - 54 18 9 Total £2>2i 6 9 2o6 Appendix. Payments in London, 1589. B&AT Hire. To the Court and back, 8'? From the Court to Westminster, 4I ; and from Westminster home, 4I From the Temple to the Court and back, 6'? To the Court, 4"? From the Court, 4*? To the Court, 4'? From the Court, 4"? Mr. More to the Court, 4I Same, May 1 1'^, 41 From the Court, 4"? For Percy, 6"? To the Old Swan, 4^ To Lambeth and to the Court and back, 6'? For Alden, 12^ From the Court, 4*! To Barn Elms and back, 4? For Mr. More, 3^. The same, 8"! To Westminster and back, 8"? For Evans, 61 Mr. More to Westminster and back, 81 To the Old Swan, 4I For Mr. More, 81 From Fulham to Barn Elms and back, 81 To Ratchffe and back, 2^ For his Wor- ship to Ratcliffe, June 29'!', 10I Two boats from the Old Swan to the Temple, 81 Ferrying over the horse at Fulham and back, si The same going to the Court, 2I Mr. More to Lambeth and back (twice), 16I To the Court, 4I To the Court and back, 81 Total £-L .4,-5 Carriage, Horse Hire, and Travelling Expenses. Carriage of twelve pigeon-pies, 16I To the Porter for bring- ing them from Holborn Bridge 2I The same, to help carry the hampers to Holborn Bridge, 2I To the Carmen for bring- ing the stuff and beds to Warwick-lane, . A Porter for bring- ing a pasty, 4I Percy,- for the same, 3I Horse-hire to Harrow- on-the-Hill, 2! 61 Horse-hire for one horse to the Court, 2'. The same for six days, 7'. James to bring him down, i6l Mr. More when he went to Barn Elms, 5^ James, when he went to Ratcliffe, 12I Mr. Wm. More when he went down, 30I ^Parrock's charges up and down, 4! J. Cook's charges for the, same, 4^ Anthony at his going down, 41 James to bring him down, 1 81 Total ;£3 • 4 • 7 Appendix. 207 Charges of coming down, viz. : Supper at Houndslow, July 14* Horsemeat there Dyner at Haydenhedd, July 15* Horsemeat there Supper at Reading . Horsemeat there Dyner at Newbury, July i6'? . Horsemeat there Poor people at Newbury . A poor man at Spene 10^ 7^ i.S^ 61 4' 81 13- 61 81 8= i-^ 3^ 81 3'? 2I Total £2, 7 Entertainment. Paid at the Bell which was owing for Robt. Taylor, and supper for Anthony and James when they brought trouts, 3! 4'' Setting up the foot-cloth, 2I Mr. More's dyner and wine at the Court, 14I Horsemeat and standing of the horse, 9I Bread for two horses before his Worship went to the Court, 4I Horsemeat and standing of the horse at Court, 4I James horsekeeper, which he paid for set- ing up the foot-cloth, 4I Horsemeat and shoeing, ;^i4 11I 4"* Alden for his lodging, 9! Total, ;^iS . 6 . 9 Gifts. Mr. Brouncker's man, 12I Mr. Brown's man at the wood- yard at Court, 61 Wm. Hall which was given him at my lord Chancellor's, 61 Hatton, which he gave a poor body, 2I Given a poor body at the Temple, 1I A poor woman, 1I Mr. Stubbes' man Richards, 61 One that brought -a chine of beef and venison from Mr. Croft, 18I The porter at Walsyngham- house by James More, 61 A poor man, 1I The keeper's wife at Reigate Park, 2? A poor man, 2I Percy which Taylor's daughter had, 5I Mr. Briskett's man, 12I Mr. Brouncker's man, 12. Total, ;Qo . 14 . I 2o8 Appendix. Law Expenses, Fees and Costs. Mr. Gybbes, 20' His man for drawing the answer v. Stukely, 6? Mr. Owen, 20^ Mr. Bigges, 11^ 8"! and 4"? Copie of the Order for the tenants of Chilton, 2' Mr. Rotheram his fee V. Stanerton, 3^ 4* Mr. Osborne his fee v. Puttenam in the Exchequer, 3^. 4"! Entering appearance, 61 Warrant of At- torney, 8"? Mr. Glanvile for a Motion v. tenants of Chilton, 2 0". Mr. Cook, the Messenger, 20^. Copy of Stukely's Re- plication, 10'. Copy of Puttenam's Declaration, 18'? Entering day of hearing with Stukely by consent, 12"? An Usher in the Court of Wards, 3I Ingrossing Interrogatories, 4* Cook the Messenger,, 20^. Subpoena for the Defendants v. Cheney, Reade and Keene, 3? Cook the Messenger, 10' Mr. Andrew Read's charges to be examined, 2=. 6* Ingrossing answers to Stukely's Articles exhibited to Mr. Secretary, 12^ 61 Paid at my Lord of Leicester's office, ;^4o. Mr. Sly, ^^15. Search and copy of Scire Facias v. Oxenbridge, 3^ 81 Mr. Pickerell's fee in the Court of Wards v. Stukely, 3^ 4I Entering his Worship's ap- pearance there, 2^. 4I Notes of two Deeds inrolled, 12I Copy of Stukely's Bill, 8". Mr. Geo. Vernon, 30= Cook the Messen- ger, 2^ 61 Mr. Glanvile's fee, 10^. John Straker, for Thorley, ^3 6^ 81 Mr. Churchill his fees of the Livery, _;^8. Drawing ye pardon of Kintbury, 5'. To Percy which he paid for his Worship's oath, 61 Thorley, 30^ Entering two Orders in the Court of Wards, 2^ Mr. D. Carewe for Horsall's oath and Parrock's, 81 Examining of them two, 4^ For Cook's oath and examining, 2'. 61 Horsewell, 18I Drawing two pardons of Alienation, 20'. Entering the same and one more drawn before, 5? D. Stanhope's hand to the five Pardons, 10^ Re- ceiver's man for entering in his book, 2^ 61 The fine of a Pardon of the third part of Kintbury, jQ^ 9! Drawing the Pardon thereof, 5^. Entering it, 12I Receiver's man, 61 Stanhope's hand thereto, 2^ Mr. Rotheram's fee v. Stanerton, 3= 4I Mr. Hext his fee per Jennens. The same for his fee v. Hungerford, 3^ 4I Mr. Collier for Mich, and Hil. Terms, 28! 2I Mr. Cook the Messenger, 6,^ 7I and 6^ 9I Mr. Dewe, Mr. Standen's man, for a copie of the office and two transcripts, 40^ Mr. CoUyer for the fine for Hunt's suit v. Cawley, 16? 81 Mr. Scryven, 61 Mr. Dunche his man for returning the com- mission and a copy^ 15' Mr. Dannett, in part, for the License Appendix. 209 of Woodhey and Kintbury, 40? Mr. Collier upon his bill of the two last Terms, ^^4 17= f. Mr. Slye, ^^5. Mr. Dicken- son, 40! Docket for a license, 18"? Entering thereof, 12*. Stanhope's hand thereto, 2= Receiver's man, 6'? Mr. Gerard, 40= More (in gold), 10! More, 5= Mr. Dickenson, 10= Mr. Standen for the Copy of the Office containing 105 sheets and the two transcripts, £(>, Copy of the Scire Facias in the Exchequer for the Alienation from Cheyney to Slatter of Wood- hey, 3= 4'! Mr. Dickenson, 7'! Sheriff of Wilts, 2I 6^ Sheriff of Wilts for returning the attachment v. Cowley and Hunt, 12"! Total, ;^i24 .9.1 Washing (3 Months). 5 shirts, handkerchiefs, nightkerchiefs, and socks, iS"! An- thony's clothes, 12'? 6 shirts, 18 handkerchiefs, and a waist- coat, 2? 6 shirts, handkerchiefs, nightkerchiefs, socks, and collars, 2o'l 5 shirts, 8 handkerchiefs, a nightkerchief, a collar and socks, 20"! Anthony's cloths, lo"! 4 shirts, 12'? 4 shirts, 6 handkerchiefs, socks, and nightkerchiefs, 14* 3 shirts, 4 handkerchiefs, and socks, 10* 3 shirts, 5 handkerchiefs, 10* 2 shirts, 4 handkerchiefs, i pair socks, and 5 sheets, 13I 6 shirts, 5 handkerchiefs, and i pair socks, 19"! 4 shirts, 5 handkerchiefs, and i pair socks, 13'? I Table-cloth, and 14 napkins, 14*? Total, ;^o. 17.5 Dress. Mending Anthony's shoes, 6"? Pair of shoes for him and mending his hose, 20* Mr. More for a pair of gloves when he went to Ratcliff, 18*? Twelve Badges (besides 16^ w''^ his Worship paid), 20^ Pair of shoes for his Worship, 2! 9"? 4 shirts, 6 bands, 6 pair cuffs (besides 6' which his Worship paid), 6f yds. murry satin, at 12^ J^i, V. (whereof Cornelius the tailor paid 41^ namely of Mrs. Biggs, 20^ and this accountant, 20^) P 2IO Appendix. Cornelius the tailor which he had laid out 41 . i,\ ells Murry taffeta sarsnet to line a doublet and canions, 15= 6 J yards gene fustian, 4^ 8=! Three dozen of buttons, 12'! Silk to make button holes, 61 A canopy embroidered with a train of changeable taffeta, ;£,%. Cornelius the tailor on his bill, 30^ His man Humphrey, 12* 3^ yards black satin at 12^ 61 i| ells black taffeta sarsnet 12^ 2>\ yards white gene fustian 2^ 84 Pair of shoes 2^ 61 Raising a pair of shoes, 1I Three badges, 9^ 4I Three dozen of silk points 3^. Mending a pair of shoes, si Total, i:4 • 3 ■ I Furniture ' AND Household Stuff and Wages. His worship when he bought table-boards, £^i,. Two glass bottles, 2I Two chairs covered with grene, 22^ The carpenter to buy stuff to make settles for bear, 18I Carpenter's work, 10I Three dozen of trenchers, 15I Long table cloths 5*. Percy which he paid for cloth for a pair of sheets ; two diaper cloths ; 3 table napkins, &c. 40/1 Three brooms 2I Sope 3I, Nails for the carpenter, 4I Taps, 1I Making and washing a pair of sheets and hemming cupboard clothes 18I Seven yards of carpet stuff at 20I The joiner for a counting table, 8^. More to his man, 61 Hazelden for curtains of Wedmoll lace, rings, curtain rods, and making, 18? i lb. of candles 4I* A dozen of Pewter trencher-plates 5^ 6 spoons, si An earthern salt-pot, 2I Salt, 3I Sand to scour the pewter i1 Hazelden for mats and matting the great chamber and middle chamber, 4^61 Looking-glass s^ The carpenter for sawing the end of a form 2I The smith for drenching 'and shoeing the horses upon his bill 13'. 61 The same for bolts 2^ 4I Waying the plate i2lj and for a basket to put it in, i6l Two Court tables, 24^: Setting horse-shoes, 3I Total, ;^i2 .11.7 ' For entries of candles bought, see weekly accounts of diet from April to Ju«e. Appendix. 2 1 1 Sundries. \ oz. of tobacco lo"! Leaden standish 3'! An ounce of tobacco 5^. Four tobacco pipes 2! Ink and a glass 2'? The Apothecary upon his bill 8". Gardening stuffe for Cornelius the gardener 23^ 3"! Quire of Paper 2"? \ lb. of Tobacco 30'. Sweetmeats at Mistress West's, 21! 2\ oz. dates, 5"! 2 oz. dates 3*? 2 oz. dates 3*! Quire of Paper, 4'^ Mr. James More which he paid at a play at Paul's, 61 Curb for a briddle, 2"! Percy which he paid for a book, 6"? Quire of paper, 4I Paper and parchment 8"? A Basket, 2^ 6* Quire of Paper 4*? Total, ;^4 . 16 . I Cash Advances. Cornelius, 2' His Worship 20^ (of which Cornelius had 10^). Still II =. 6"! His worship I o-^ 81 Mr. Wm. More 10^ Cornelius the Dutchman 12I Jas. More, 12I Evans 2^. His worship ;^So. The same, 5^ Still, 11? 61 His worship 20' The same in gold, 10! The same, 10^ 81 Mr. More for your worship at Mr. Balletts, 4I T. Laxenbury 6'. Total, ;^S7 • I • 6 212 Appendix. Wild Darrell's Diet at Warwick Lane from i6 April to 14 July 1589. At my cominge upp. Wednesday dyner April 16 (1589) A pece of bief .... xviiij'^ A legg of jnutton . . . xx* ij chickens '■\ bacon . . xx'^ ij chickens T: ij pigions rest ! xviij* For dressinge all . . . vij* For parsly, cloves, T; sauce for the mutton . vj* Bread '■\ beare .... xvj'' 0.8.9 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . xx"" iij pigions viij* For roastinge the mutton, pigions, ij chickens ^ ij rabbettes For sawse, soppes, '\ parsly Bread .T: beare .... o . 4 . 10 Thursday dynef April 17. A pece of bief .... iij pigions, j chicken '\ bacon XYJ"" xx^ For dressinge the pigions, chicken, '\ bacon and rostinge iij rabbettes . Bread ^ beare .... vj'' xvij'^ Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . For rostinge thereof ^ of iij rabbettes, and frienge of iij rabbettes . . For parsly .... A pynt of clarett . . A pound of candles . Bread ^ beare . . For Glassenburies break- fast eodem . . . xviij" IX" ij* iij* iiij* xvj* vj" 0.4.10 Friday dyner April 18. For dressinge of fishe and butter xxij* For cheese . . . iiij* Supper eodem xj* v* xiiij* 0.2.2 . , . nil. 0.4. II Saturday dyner April 19. ij peces of bief . . . . ij^viij* A legg of mutton . . . xviij* iij chickens xviij* Bacon vj* For rostinge ^ boylinge . vj* For parsly, cloves, '\ sawse, for ye legg of mutton . ' vj* Butter T: egges .... iiij'' 0.7-6 Appendix. Supper eodem. Monday dyner April 2 1 . A shoulder of mutton . . xviij'' A legg of mutton ij chickens xij* Salte fishe buttered 'T: playse ij= Conger xviij'' For rostinge the mutton ^ chickens and sorell soppes for ye chickens . x"" Butter ij'' A pound of candles . . iiij'' xvj° ij chickens xyj*" A pece of bief .... xviij* For dressinge ye chickens, bacon, leg of mutton '^t for sawce xj* Bacon xiiij'' 6.3 . 7 ■ 4 Supper eodem. Sunday dyner April 20, A shoulder of mutton xviij'' ij chickens xij'' A pece of bief .... xvj'^ Cold bief '\ vinager . . viij'' For rostinge a side of For rostinge the mutton "S: venison '^ sawse . . . x* chickens and sawce for ij chickens '^ bacon . . ij^ the chickens .... x" A quart of claret . . . vj'' For boylinge ye chickens .4.0 '\ bacon 'T; for parsly . iuj'^ o- 5 Tuesday dyner April 22. Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xviij* For rostinge thereof ^ buttering ij cold chickens v For bread ^ beare since Thursday night . . viij=. vj" A pece of bief .... xviij" A leg of mutton. . . . xviij"" iij chickens xxj" A pynt of Rhenishe wyne v* For dressing ye leg of mutton and chickens and bacon '\ for cloves and sawce .... xij 10. 5 6. 2 :i4 Appendix. Supper eodem. Cold boy led bief T: vinagfer x"" A shoulder of mutton . . xxij'' ij chickens xvj'' For rostinge and sawce for ye chickens .... x* For bread 'H: beare for ij dayes v^ viij'' 10 Wednesday dyner April 23. A legg of mutton A neck of veale xviij" fey " — -- ■ ^"'J' rec. of Bacon .... xiiij" ^i:f Bief xviij* For dressinge '\ sawce ^ grene sawce .... xii'' 0.6.6 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . For dressinge . . . nj" Thursday dyner April 24. A neck of veale . . . xiiij*" A legg of mutton . . . xviij* Bief xviij'' For rostinge ij peces of ij neckes of veale . , . . iiij"* For dressinge veale "^ bacon ^ rostinge the leg of mutton 1 sawce xj"* For grene sawce . . . iij"" Supper eodem. A brest of mutton '^l radishe xix** ij chickens xvj"" For dressinge '^l sawse . x* o- 3- 9 Fry day dyner April 25. A pece of linge . Butter. . . . . . . ij- vj- Mackrell • - . .1.4 Supper eodem. Fishe, butter '\ cheese . xiiij"" 0.1.2 Saterday dyner April 26. A legg of mutton . ij grene geese . . A pece of bief . . Pearcy For salt fishe but- of my t^'^^d '\ makerell m'^iiij'. A dishe of butter . For dressinge ye meat '^l sawse. . White wyne . ; . ij^ viij'' xviij'' vuj" V]" o . S . II Supper eodem. For supper for sixe in London iij^ For horsebread that night ^ settinge upp the foot- 5 • 8 cloth vij" Appendix. 215 Sunday dyner April 27. Tuesday dyner April 29. A pece of bief . A brest of veale. xvj" 3-6 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xxj"" Bred 'T: beare since Tues- day, viz., for V. dayes . xij^ vj*" ij lb. of candles .... viij'' O . 14 . II Munday dyner April 28. A pece of bief A leg of mutton Bacon . . . A neck of veale iij chickens . For rostinge the leg of mutton ^ chickens '\ sawce for bothe . . . For boylinge veale and bacon ^ grene sawce . Bred and beare . . . . xuij" xij" xv]** xviij'* xuij \\\f xvij.'' 0.9.7 Xlj" xiiij" Supper eodem Bred and beare . . . A neck of mutton . . A shoulder of mutton . . xx"" A pullett xvj" For stuffe for brothe . . vj* For boylinge and rostinge ix" A legg of mutton . . A capon A pece of bief . . . Bred and beare . . . For dressinge "T; sawce XX" xxij* xviij"* xvij'' xj* Supper eodem. A shotllder of mutton . . Butter to butter ye cold capon Candles For dressinge the mutton Bred and beare .... 7- 4 xviij* iiij" iij'' xiij"" 3- 4 Wednesday dyner April 30. A legg of mutton . . . A neck of veale. . . . A capon Bief For boylinge ye legg of mutton '\ rostinge ye veale 'T: capon 1; sawce for the veale .... xvuj" xviij'' ij= ij" xvj'' xviij*" 8 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xix"" ij chickens xvj For dressinge ^ f sly . . vij" 7 • 5 2l6 Appendix. Thursday dyner Maij i". A neck of veale. . . A henn xvj* A pece of bief .... xvj" For rostinge halfe the necke of veale 't sawce ^ farcinge herbes . . For boylinge veale "^ bacon '\ rostinge ye henn xviij* Vllj° 5- 3 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xx* iij chickens xviij*" For dressinge ^ sawce . y? A quart of clarett . . . vj'* 4.6 Fry day dyner Maij 2. A side of habdyn ^ another of grene fishe Foure playses . ij whitinges . . Conger . . . Butter .... Lettise for sallett A pynt of white wyne another of clarett . Suger A pound of butter . . For dressinge the fishe Oyle ^ suger for sallett More for butter . . . A pounde of candles . xiiij"* xij* viij"* viij"* iiij* vj° Vllj" iiij"" o- 7 ■ 3 Supper eodem, tiihil. Saterday dyner Maij For lambe which Hall had at brekefast .... Bief at dyner .... A legg of mutton rost '\ sawce A goose A pynt of white wyne . . Suger For rostinge ye goose 'T; sawce _x" xviij'' iij"" V]" Supper eoden ;. Coldebief . . . . . viij'* Cheese iiij'' Sunday dyner Maij 4. A pece of bief .... xvj" A loyne of veale ... ij^ A forequarter of lambe colde XX* For dressinge of the veale vj** 0.6.6 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xviij" ij chickens xij'' For rostinge 'T; sawce ^ spppes .... A pound of candles 111]" o. 3. 8 Appendix. 217 Mimday dyner Maij 5. A pece of bief .... xvj'' A legg of mutton . . . A loyne of veale . . . Orenges For dressinge the mutton ^ veale XVIIJ" xxij"* o- 5 • 7 Supper eodem. A brest ft a loyne of mutton iij^ ij'' ... ij= . . . iij^ iij Rabbettes . Sallett . . . 5 • 5 Wednesday dyner Maij 7. Bief xviij* A loyne of veale ... ij' 2 rabbettes xiiij* A quarter of lambe . . A pynte of white wyne . A leman Suger For dressinge ft farcinge ye loyne of veale . . For dressinge 2 rabbettes ft a quarter of lambe . Supper eodem. Butter ft cheese . . A pound of candles . xviij* iij'^ f X1J° vnj" 0.8.4 vnj" Tuesday dytier Maij 6. ij peces of bief . . . . ij^ vj* For dressinge a pullet ft 7 pigions viij"* Ale ij" o- 3- 3 o . I Thursday dyner Maij 8. Bief xviij'' A legg of mutton . . . xvj" For rostinge ye mutton ft cloves ft sawce . . viij" 0.4 Supper eodem. Coldebief viij'' A shoulder of mutton . . For rostinge ye mutton ft xviij** 6 pigions vij" Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . For rostinge ft sallett . Candles xyiij* iiij'' 0.2.4 Sic. 2l8 Appendix. Fry day dyner Maij 9. A legg of mutton . . . xviij^ A loyne of veale . . . ij' iiij* Orenges ij'^ For dressinge ye mutton veale '\ a phesant . . xij'' Supper eodem. Butter T: cheese ... vj'' 0.5.6 Safer day dyner Maij 10. Apigg xviij" 2 chickens xiiij'' A pece of bief .... xvj'' For rostinge ye pigg 1 sawce viij* For dressinge 2 chickens T: sawce vij'' 0.5.6 Supper. For slist bief vj"" For meat at supper for ij at Brightes .... xx* 0.2.2 Sum tot of this sheete 12 13 8 Unde Pearcy rec. of my M' 6' So rest. 12 78 Sunday dyner Maij 11. A pece of bief . . .- . xviij* A loyne of veale ... ij= 2 chickens xiiij* Orenges ij"* For dressinge ye veale '\ chickens T: sawce xij" 10 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xvj'' 2 Rabbettes x* For dressinge ye mutton, rabbettes '-t a pigges pettie toes viij* Coldebief viij* Cheese ij" 3-8 Munday dyner Maij 12. A pece of bief . . j . For dressinge a loyne of veale ^ a puUette . . A shoulder of lambe . . xviij" ix" 3-0 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xviij 2 chickens xiiij" A pound of candles . . iiij* For rostinge ye mutton '^t chickens 'vt sauce . . x* Appendix, 219 Tuesday dyner Maij 13. For bread "t beare for 15 A pece of bief .... xviij'" dayes last xlviij' A loyne of veale ... xx'' ^.P""^" ^vj" Thursday dyner Maij XI. A quarter of lambe . . xviij* For rostinge ye veale "T; -A- pece of bief .... xvj"' pullett ix'' Halfe a loyne of veale . xij"" Butter for Brekefast . . ij^ Orenges ij" Orenges ij" Bred "3; beare .... xij* Butter ij'' 0.7.1 Slipper eodem. Supper eodem. ^'^^^^^ ^ A shoulder of mutton . . xviij" 7 A neates tonge cold . . xviij"" 2 chickens xiiij** Wednesday dyner Maij 14. For rostinge ye mutton '\ A pece of bief .... xviij* chickens xf 2 playses xij"" ^^ead ^ beare .... xif Conger viij'' Cockles iiijo 0.6.1 Mackerell viij'^ A pound of butter . . iiij* Frydaie dyner Maij 16. A pynt of white wyne a loyne of veale . . . if ^ lemon '\ sugar . . vi" , ■ , -d ... ° .J 2 chickens xvj" 2 chickens xvj'' t, ,,v ^. d _ . ... '2 Rabbettes x" For rostinge ye chickens a quart of clarett . . . vj ^dressing ye fishe. ■ x.3^ For rostinge ye veale ^ Q . . rabbettes ^ chickens "^ soppes T: sawce . . . xviij"" Supper eodem. Colde bief xiiij'* 0.7.5 A shoulder of mutton . . xviij"" 2 chickens xiiij* Supper eodem. Butter ij* ^ For dressinge ye mutton ^^^^ter ^cheese . . . yf ^ chickens ^ sops and Bread ^ beare . . . . xj sawce xj-" A pound of candles . . nij^ 04.11 0.1.9 2 20 Appendix. Saierday dyner Maij 17. Butter at brekefast ... ij'^ A loyne of veale ... ij^ 2 chickens xvj'' A pece of bief .... xviij'* For dressinge ye veale T; chickens '\ savvce . . x"* Orenges .;.... ij^ Bred '\ beare .... xiiij^ Supper eodem. A loyne of mutton . . Bred '\ beare . . . xxj^ xij"" Tuesday dyner Maij 20. For Aldans dyner '\ An- thonyes Supper eodem. Butter ^ cheese . . Bred ^ beare ... vnj" Slipper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xxj'' Bread ^ beare .... xij'' 3- 7 Whitsonday dyner. For dyner for v at Rat- cliffe For ye footeclothe there . To a poore body . . . For Alden's dyner . . . Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . Bred ^ beare . . . iiij* uij" 4. 9 xxj° xij'' Munday dyner Maij 19. For dyner at the Queenes Hed in Pater Noster Rowe v^ j'' For Aldens dyner '\ An- thonyes x* Wednesday dyner Maij 21. Butter T: sage "T: bred '^ beare at brekefast . . vij"" For dyner in London . .ij^viij* For Aldens dyner ^ Pearcies xij'* 0.4-3 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xxj'^ Cold bief viij^ Bred 'T: beare .... xiij" Thursday dyner Maij 22. For dyner at the Kinges Hed in Newe Fishe Street xvj'' For Alden's dyner . iiij" 16 . 4 . Appendix. 221 Supper eodetn. Colde bief .... A shoulder of mutton Bred ^ beare . . . xxj'' xij"" 0.3.9 Fry day dyner Maij 23. Butter '\ sage . A loyne of veale A pace of bief . Orenges . . . A quart of clarett Suger .... A pynt of strawberies For rostinge ye veale pigions .... Bred et beare . . ■1:8 iij'' xviij" vj" xij" XIJ" o- 7 ■ 5 Supper eodetn. Bred 'T; beare .... Saturday dyner Maij 24, Butter T: sage .... Bief For rostinge a capon ^ v pigions Bred ^ beare .... iij"* xviij* vij"" xij* Sunday dyner Maij 25. Bief For rostinge a phesant T; 4 pigions Lemans A pynt of clarett . . . Bred T: beare .... iij"* xij"* 3- 7 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xx** A chick viij'' Bred '^t beare xij" 3- 4 Munday dyner Maij 26. Butter iiij"* Bief xviij* A chick viij* For rostinge 2 chickens ^ sawce vij* Bred ^ beare .... xij'' 0.4.1 Supper eodem. A brest of mutton . . For rostinge vj pigions Bred '\ beare ... xvij" iiij'* xij Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton For rostinge thereof . Bred ^ beare . . . Raddishes .... xvuj iij* ix* 222 Appendix. Tuesday dyner Maij 27. Butter 'vt sage . . A legg of mutton . 2 chickens . . . For rostinge 1 sawce A pound of candles Bred '^t beare . . Supper eodem. Bred beare 'T: cheese . nj" xviij'' vij'^ iiij'^ o . o . 10 Wednesday dyner Maij 28. Bief A loyne of veale . . . Butter Bred '^ beare .... For rostinge ye loyne of veale Orenges xvj" xxij^ vj° 0.4. Supper eodevt. A shoulder of mutton . . xxij'" Strawberies 3 pyntes . . xij'^ A pynt of clarett . . . iij" Suger iij* For butter to butter a cold chick ij'^ Bred '\ beare .... x" Thursday dyner Maij 29. Butter at brekefast '\ dyner v"" A pece of bief .... xyj"" 2 chickens xij"* For fr)dnge '\ parsly '\ butter v"" Strawberies 3 pyntes . . xij" A pynt of clarett . . . iij* Suger iij"" Bred ^ beare .... xj'^ 0. S- 7 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xx"" Bred T; beare x'' Frydaie dyner Maij 3 o. A loyne of veale ... ij' 2 chickens xiiij*" A pynt of clarett . . . iij" Orenges 3* For rostinge the veale ^ chickens and parsly 'S sawce xiiij'' Bred T: beare .... xjf o- S ■ 7 Supper eodem. Bred '\ beare . . . A pynt of clarett . . Suger VllJ iij"" ij" 0.4.4 Appendix. 22- Saturday dyner Maij 31. For my dyner James dyner '\ his horse- meat Mr. More 'T: Alden's dyner A pound of candles . . Monday dyner Jitnij 2. Supper eodem. A quart of stravvberies A pynt of clarett . . For supper for v . . xj" viij'' iiij" VIlj" iij"* xviij'' Sunday dyner Junij 'f . A pece of bief . A loyne of veale 2 chickens . . A quart of clarett Suger .... A lemon . . . For rostinge ye veale chickens tsawce . A quart of strawberies Bred ^ beare . . . XVllJ xviij'' mf xiiij'' viij'' xiiij'' 0.8.7 3 chickens '^l bacon . . For rostinge a chyne of bief For a loyne of veale . . For baking thereof. . . For a Capon For 2 Rabbettes . . . For boylinge ye chickens '\ bacon 'T: rostinge ye Capon '\ Rabbettes For I*' of suger . . . 3 quartes of white wyne Orenges '\ lemans . . Bred '\ beare . . . ly. IX" xij"* xx" ij^. vj" xx" xiiij'' xvij'' xviij'' iiij" xiiij'' 17 Supper eodem. A quart of Strawberies di. pynt of clarett . . Bred 'T: beare . . . vuj" xij'' Tuesday dyner Junij 3. For a legg of mutton farst T: ready drest . . . A loyne of veale rost . . Bred T: beare .... xiij'' Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . For rostinge thereof . Bred ^ beare . . . xvj° iij'^ xij"" Supper eodem. A pynt of sack . . . Bred ^ beare . . . iiij" o . 2 o . I 224 Appendix. Wednesday dyner Junij 4. For Mr. Moores dyner T: wyne, Pearcies James ■T: Aldens ij^ vj* For Supper eodem, supper . . 13 xx" o . 4 Unde Pearcy rec. of my M^ . . . ,. . 2^ So rest . .13.0.2°" Total of 2 last sheets . . . 25 . 7 10^ Thursday dyner Junij 5. A legg of mutton . . A loyne of veale . . ARabbett . . . . Orenges and Ale . . A quart of Strawberies A pynt of Clarett . . For rosting ye rabbett. Bred '\ beare . . . xxij'' ij': vj'' vuj" iij" iij* xijf' 0.7.6 Supper eodem. For my supper ^ Percies and James and Alden . For settinge up the horse xx° Frydaie dyner Junij 6, For dressinge a legg of, mutton, a loyne of veale, 3 Rabbettes, '\ a dishe of Crefishe . . For a quart of Clarett For Orenges Bred T; beare .... xv" vj" xj" Supper eodem. Bred 'T; beare . . . VIJ" Saterday dyner Junij 7. A legg of mutton . . . xviij* A loyne of veale . . . ij^ vj* ARabbett ..... viij* A quart of Clarett , . . vj* A quart of Strawberies . vj"* Orenges ij* Bred '\ beare .... xiij" For dressinge ye mutton veale '\ rabbett xiij''. A playse '\ butter 1 egges vij*. Supper eodem. Bred beare '^ cheese . . x* Sunday dyner Junij 8. A brest of veale . . . xxij* A pece of bief .... xij*" A Rabbett viij* 2 chickens . i . . . For rostinge the veale chickens 'T: Rabbetts . 0.1.9 Bred -T; beare xnij" xvij" xiij" Appendix. 225 Supper eodem Bred "1 beare . xj" Munday dymr Junij 9. Egges at Brekefast ... j"* 2 peces bief ij^- ij'' A loyne of veale . . . xxij* A Rabbett viij'' A quart of Strawberies . vj" A quart of Clarett ... vj"* For rostinge ye veale ^ Rabbett .... ix" Bred 'vt beare .... xiiij'' 8 xiiij'' Supper eodem. A brest of mutton . . A Rabbett viij"* For rostinge the Rabbett iij'' Bred ^ beare .... x"^ O . 2 . II Supper eodem. Egges A shoulder of mutton . Cheese Bred 'i beare .... xij" Candles iiij* Pepper j"* xviij* iij* o ■ 3- 4 Wednesday dyner Junij 11. Bred '1 beare . . . A legg of mutton . . A loyne of veale . . 2 chickens .... A quart of Strawberies A quart of Clarett . . For dressinge ye mutton veale chickens and xiij"' xviij"* xviij** xvj'^ vj'' sawce xuij" 0.7.7 Tuesday dyner Junij 10. 2 peces of bief . . . A loyne of veale . . A Rabbett .... A pynt of Clarett . . For rostinge ye Rabbett • Orenges Bred ^ beare .... xiij^ Vllj" iij'^ iij"* Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . Bred ^ beare . . • Stone pytche . • • 0.6.7 226 Appendix. Thursday dyner Junij 12. A pece of bief . A loyne of veale A legg of mutton 2 chickens . . 2 Rabbettes . . For dressinge ye mutton, veale, chickens, '\ Rabbettes A quart of wjrne . . . Orenges Bred 'T; beare .... xiuj" xxij'^ xvj* xyj** xiiij*" xvuj Safer day dyner Junij 14. A pece of bief .... xij" A legg of mutton » . . xyj* A loyne of veale . . . xxij* 2 Rabbettes xvj* Strawberies vj* Di. pynt of charnikoe . . ij'* A quartern of suger . . v"" For dressinge the mutton veale '\ Rabbettes . . xvj* Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . Bred 'vl beare . . . xvuj" Supper eodom. For supper for 8 of yor menn xvij 0.2.4 Fry day dyner Junij 13. For dressinge of iishe for buyinge whereof Percy had f- of my M^ . . Sallett "it egges . . . . Butter Egges Bred ^ beare .... Supper eodem. A brest of mutton . Strawberies . . . A quart of creame . A pynt of charnikoe Suger V]° iij* x^ ijo xvj* xvj° iiij^ yf UIJ" Sunday dyner Junij 15. A legg of mutton . , . xviij* A loyne of veale ... xx* ARabbett viij'^ A quart of Clarett . . . vj" For dressinge the mutton, veale and Rabbett Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . ARabbett .... A quart of Strawberies A quartern of Suger . A pynt of charnikoe . For rostinge the Rabbett, -axy o.S-S V]° iij'' 0.3-9 Appendix. 227 Munday dynerjunij 16. A legg of mutton . . . xviij* Two Rabbettes .... xviij* A loyne of veale ... ij' A quart of clarett ... vj'' Strawberies vj"' For dressinge the mutton, veale, ^ Rabbettes . xvj* 0.7.4 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xx* A Rabbett viij" Strawberies vj'* A pynt of charnikoe A quartern of suger For dressinge the Rabbett iij* Tuesday dynerjunij 17. A legg of mutton A loyne of veale 2 Rabbettes . . Orenges . . . A pynt of Clarett Di. pynte of charnikoe Strawberies .... For dressinge the veale mutton and Rabbettes . xvj° xvj^ iij* vj" xvj" Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xviij'' Wednesday dynerjunij 18. For boylinge a legge of mutton "^ rostinge a brest of veale ^ a Rabbett xiij* Strawberies '\ Charnikoe. vij'^ Butterd Pease .... vj* 0-3 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . 0.1.8 Thursday dynerjunij 19. For bred, beare, '\ butter for W? Whites man when he brought the Buck For dressinge a legg of mutton, a loyne of veale 'T; a Rabbett . For a quart of Clarett. Di : a pynt of Charnikoe Strawberies .... Suger For ye Rabbett . . iiij* Xllj" vj^ iiij^ viij*" 0.3-7 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xviij"* For Bred '\ beare for 7 dayes xv' o . 16 . 6 228 Appendix. Friday dyner Junij 20, Butter A pece of bief . . A legg of mutton . A loyne of veale . 2 peckes of Pescodes 3 Rabbettes . . . A quart of creame . 3 quarts of Strawberies 2 li. of cheries . . . Di : li. of muske confectes Di : li. of violett confectes Orenges 2 Lemans Bred Beare xiiij"* xviij* xxij'^ viij* xvj'' X]° iij"* viij** o . 14 . II Supper eodem. Bred, beare ^ candles . For settinge upp the horse cloth .... Saturday dyner Junij 21. A legge of mutton . . A loyne of veale . . For dressinge . . . 2 quartes of Clarett . Bred T; beare . . . XVj*' xxij** ix"" xij^ xiiij* Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xyj** For dressinge thereof '\ of the venison bones . vij'' Beare ^ bred .... ix* Sunday dyner Junij 22. For dyner for Cornelius ■T: his wyfe Alden Jenens myselfe and Percy ui" \f 0-3 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . A Rabbett rost . . . Bread Beare xnj" ix* vj* viij* 0.3.0 8. 12.3 Total of 3 last sheets ? diet,— 34 . o . \\. Monday dyner Junij 23, A legg of mutton and a loyne of veale. . . . Twoo Rabbettes . . . A pynt of clarett . . . For dressinge the meat . Beare Bred xiiij^ iij'" xij* viij* vj* 6.7 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xvj* A Rabbett viij* Dressinge vj Beare viij* Bred "f 2 . 8 3-5 Appendix. 229 Tuesday dyner Junij 24. Bred .... Beare .... A legg of mutton A loyne of veale 2 Rabbettes . . A pynt of wyne . For dressinge . viij'' xxij* xiiij* iij'' xij"" 0.6.9 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . For dressinge . . . Bred "^ beare . . . XV]° iij"* xij* Thursday dyner Junij A legg of mutton . A shoulder of veale Pease Wyne For dressinge . . Bred "3; beare . . Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . Strawberies .... A quartern of suger . For rostinge the mutton Bred '^i; beare . . . 26. xvj" xvj* ij^ iij'' ix" xij'* vj" v" iij" viij* 3- 4 Wednesday dyner Junij 25. A legg of mutton . . . xvj" A loyne of veale Pescods . . . For dressinge . Bred ^ beare .... xij" Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . For dressinge . . . Beare xvj" iij* iiij'' Fryday dyner Junij 27. White wyne A side of grene fishe ^ another of habdyn . . A playse Butter Egges For dressinge dyner 'T; makinge brothe . . . Pease Clarett wyne Bred ^ beare .... Supper eodem. Bred ^ beare . . • xiiij" xij'" viij'* iiij* xij* 11]° xij"* S-8 nj" II 230 Appendix. Saturday dynerjunij 2 8. Supper eodem. A legg of mutton . . . xviij"* For rostinge a shoulder of A shoulder of veale . . xx"" mutton, a capon, ^ a 2 Rabbettes xvj* Rabbett ix" A chick viij* For the capon .... xviij"* For dressinge the meate For the Rabbett . . . vj* "it venison-sawce for Butter to butter a cold the veale, 'vt 2 disshes Rabbett ij* butter and for dressinge A pynt of clarett . . . iij* of fishe Pease xx'> Beare nj- ij Bread Vj4 . 3-S . 7.6 Munday dynerjunij 3c >, Supper eodem. Biota hearinge .... iiij* For 2 chickens to boyle for brothe . .18* (sic) Wyne vji A yonge capon . 18 A Rabbett . . 6 . 3 . 10 2 maribones . . 6** For V stone ij li. di. of bief at 16* the stone A quart of creame e"* Frute for brothe 10'' and a shoulder of P? all by Pearcy w! money mutton, v' vj"* ; whereof had of my Mr besides 4? . iiij* Pearcy had of my Mr. A quart of clarett . . . vj" v' and the rest of me . Vj" For dressinge the meat A Barrel! of Beare . . . iiij= and makinge brothe and rostinge a pece of Sunday dyner Julij 29 bjef ,. Beare xvj'' iiij** White Wyne j" A legg of mutton . . . xyj** A Rabbett vj* A pye vj"* A pynt of wyne .... iij"* For dressinge the mutton «l Rabbett vj'^ 0.2.6 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xij* For rostinge thereof . . iij"* 7.8 Appendix. 231 Tuesday dynerjulijf, A legg of mutton . . . For boylinge thereof . . Cheese xvj* iij* ij" 0.1.9 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . xvj^ A puUett xvj"* ARabbett .... For dressinge . . . viij'' 0.4, Thursday dyner Julij 3. White wyne j*^ A legg of mutton . . . xvj* A caponett xvj* A Rabbett viij'" For boylinge ^ rostinge . ix* Stronge beare .... ij'* 0.4.4 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . . A puUett Pease For dressinge the meat and butteringe ye pease xvuj" vij" Wednesday dyner Julij 2. White wyne j* A Caponett xvj* A Rabbett viij'* Bief for oT dyner ... vj** For boylinge a pece of bief, "^l rostinge the Capon ^ Rabbett '\ butteringe a cold Rab- bett ...... ix* For a quart of clarett . . vj* Ale f O . 3 . II Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . For rostinge .... xvuj" iij" Fry date dyner Julij 4. A side of habdyn T; a side of greneiishe 2 plaisses 7 Roches 4 sowles Pease . Butter . More 2 dishes butter For dressinge the fished makinge brothe . . . xiuj" vj* vj* viij'' iij* vij* iiij* o . 4 . 10 Supper eodem. For bred since Saterday last iiij=vj'* For butteringe a Rabbett ij* A pynt of wyne .... iij* For salt to salt the bief . v'* o . I 0.5.4 232 Appendix. Saterday dyner,Julij 5. For dressinge of fishe . . Egges Butter Strong beare for Corne- , lius Supper eodem. Egges . Butter . yj 0.0. II Sixe stone j li bief at 16^ — viij^ ij'' A dozen and a halfe of bread xviij'' 0.9 Sunday dynerjulij 6. A pullet xyj"" A Rabbett viij** For dressinge '\ rostinge a pece of bief ^ boyl- inge another .... xvj^ 0.3.4 Supper eodem. A shoulder of mutton . xvuj" For rostinge iij^ 0.1.9 Munday dynerjulij 7. Bred iij'' A legg of mutton ... xvj'^ A Rabbett viij* For dressinge the meat '^ a pece of bief ... ix* A pound of Cheries . . iij* Wyne vj* o- 3-9 Supper eodem. For wyne "^ butteringe a Rabbett v* Tuesday dynerjulij 8. A legg and a neck of mutton .... ij' iiij* 2 chickens xx* A capon xx'* 2 Rabbettes xvj* Frute for brothe . . . xij'' Hearbes ij'* Strawberies vj* For dressinge the meat ^ a pece of bief Bred Wyne xxj" vj* xviij'' O . 12 . TI Payd to Pearcy at my cominge back from Rigatt w* he layd out and had of James Moore from Tuesday dyner untill Sunday night Julij 13 for meat besides 6^ 9I w"? Percy had of my M' as appeareth upon his bill xvij' x^ Mor payd for bred by the sametyme .... v' For dressinge meat by all the foresaid tyme . . vij' vj* Appendix. 23; Munday dyner Julij 14. Payd w* was behind for d Acaponett xviij^ stronge beare . . iijMij For 2 Rabbettes ... xij" ^^'* 'J Wyne xij* Sm. tot. of this sheete 8.6.9. For dressinge dyner . . xiiij* So is the whole some of these 4 4 . 8 shetes— ? diet . £i,2 . 6^ . lo"? (III.) WILD DARRELL'S LAW-CASES. Indenture of Lease dated 18 Sept. 6 Ed. vi. of lands in the manor of Hyde in the parish of Wanborough, namely "Over-hydes, Myd- del-hydes, The Pitts, Coketrills, Pikotts, Amorous pasture, Amor- ous leynes & Maydew mead " from Dame Eliz : Darrell to Anthony Dysney for the sum of ;^io 13J. i,d. Indenture of lease dated Novr 3 & 4 Phil. & Mary of 50 acres of wood & underwood in Knighton & Ramsbury, from John Rogers & Dame Eliz : his wife to Thomas Walron Esq"* & now in the occupation of John Plot and John Pyers, at a peppercorn rent. Also of lands in Knighton and Ramsbury to the same at certain rents. Indenture of lease and release dated 24 NovT 4 Eliz : of certain lands in Wilts, Berks, and Dorset, being the jointure of Dame Eliz : widow of Sir Ed. Darrell from John Rogers and Dame Eliz. his wife to William Darrell Esqre. for the sum of ;^40o. Saving existing leases to certain sub tenants. Litigation between William Darrell & Mary Fortescue concerning the manors of Littlecote, etc. Circa 1561. Bill of Thomas Essex Esqr. in Chancery to compel evidence respecting a lease from Dame Elizabeth Rogers and William Darrell to Anthony Dysney of whom the plaintiff holds certain lands from which he has been evicted by the Defendants in confederacy with his lessor. Bill of Roger CoUye to the same intent. Several Answers of Dame Eliz: Rogers and William Darrell to the above Bills, denying the premises to be true. Circa 1562. 234 Appendix. Suit in the Court of Wards of certain customary tenants of the manor of Chilton Folyat to recover £,^\ paid to William Darrell who wrongfully claimed the same after he was disseised of those lands by the Earl of Rutland. Circa 1563. Bill of John Lake yeoman of Bishopstowe for relief against a bond obtained by fraud from him by William Darrell who has levied exe- cution thereon upon his goods beyond the amount specified in the bond. Circa 1565. Bill and Replication in the Court of Requests of W. Stowte and other customary tenants of the manor of Wanborough for protection against the malice of William Darrell their lord. Answer and Rejoinder of William Darrell to the above. Circa 1564-1568. Bill of William Darrell Esqr. in Chancery for protection against the secret titles made by W, Stowte & other customary tenants of Wanborough. Joint Answers of the Defendants to the above. Circa 1568. Joint Bill of William and Elynor Darrell in the Court of Requests against the violent practices of William Hyde and others who have disseised the plaintiffs of the farm of Uffington Berks. Interrogatories to be administered to the Defendants in the above case on the part of the Plaintiffs. Circa 1574. Case of Darrell v Stukeley, concerning the manor of Axford in the Courts of Chancery, Starchamber, and Requests. 1560-89. Divorce Proceedings Darrell v Darrell and Hungerford v Hunger- ford et Darrell. 1568-83. Writ of error and other litigation respecting the manors of Winter- bourne and Orcheston. 158 1. Actions versus Stanerton, Puttenham, Oxenbridge, Hungerford, Cawley, Hunt, etc, etc. Inter Hyde et Dorrell xx"" Novembris a", xvj Regine Elizebethe. First it is ordered and commanded that Hyde shall have conveyed Appendix. 235 from Dorrell the lease and farme of Uflfyngton in the county of Berks, together with the whole stockej for the which Hyde is an- swerable to Stafforde for suche value as he is bounden to answere to Stafforde for the same. Item. The saide lease to be discharged or saved harmeles of all incumbrances made or suflfred by Dorrell himself or anye claymynge by or from him. Item. That Dorrell release and surrender suche estate lease and interest as he hathe in the maunor of Drynchworthe in the saide countye, likewise discharged or saved harmeles ut supra. Item. Dorrell to deschardge Hyde of a bonde of three hundreth poundes for the payment of twoe hundreth poundes to Dorrells suster. Item. Dorrell to deliver the generall acquitaunces which he hadd of Hyde to be cancelled. And thereupon a generall acquitaunce to be made of eche partie to th'other as shal be respectablye devised by their counsellors with the advise of the arbitrors. Item. Dorrell to deliver to Hyde all suche evidences and writ- inges as he hath, concernynge the lands and possessions of the said Hyde. Except the evidences ^ writinges concerninge Kyngburye Egle. Walter Myldmay. James Dyer. In consideration whereof yt is ordered y' Dorrell shall quietlye enjoye and reteyne the landes in Kingsburye Egle in the county [of Berks] accordinge to his estate graunted by Hyde. Item. Hyde to discharge Dorrell of cc marks due to StaflFord for two yeres rent. Item. Dorrell to enjoy the proffittes of Uffington for three yere past at Mich, last w*out anye accompt or any thinge paying to the saide Hyde his executors or assignes. Item. Hyde to release to Dorrell the anuytie of xl" graunted to him by Dorrell in consideration of cccc" paide by Hyde for Dorrell with all the arrerage of the saide annuytie. Walter Myldmaie. James Dyer. The Erle of Hertfordes remembrance for Mr. Secretary Walsingham, to deal w^" hir Majesty CONCERNING [DARRELL'S FAT*] FAT WILLIAM DARRELL. My father bought land of S'. Edward Darrell '\ gave him other landes w"? descended to fat William his sonne, now living.. • Struck out. 236 Appendix. My fathers landes so bought came to King Edward hir Majesty's brother ^ weare after assigned to me in such sort as I am to have other landes of hir Ma"" if I lose thosei This sayd William Dorrell now by a quible in law (as for lack of a letter of Attorney) would overthrow the conveyance made from his owne father '\ so recover these from me and yet keape the landes that his father had for recompense & himself at this houre enjoyeth. I for bounden dewtys sake '\ for the late favor I receaved do think it my part rather to acquaint her M. w"" the cause before recouvery had by Dorrell to th'end that under her M. name and coun- tenance his unconscionable and greedy dealing may be prevented, then to stay till it weare lost '\ take my remedy by vertu of the stat. of A° 5° Ed. 6? And therefore I humbly pray hir M. I may en- fourrae you more particularly of the cause, that yow may set downe the same in letter as hir Hignesse pleasure to her Attorney Generall ^ referre me and my councell to devise w* him aswell for her M. safety as my quiet in the premisses. " The State of William Darreli/s Writt of Error ^ CONCERNINGE THE EARL OF HERTF. MaNNORS OF WeXCOMBE ATS. WESTBEDWYN, AND BURBAGE Savage; how the Same Standeth in Lawe ^ Equitie." King Henry 8, 6 Mar. a° 13, gave to the late S' Ed. Darrell the manors aforesaid with the manor of Orcheston to hold to him and his heirs male at a rent of 31;^' per ann. After, 15 OctT, a°. 36, he gave the reversion thereof to the late Duke of Somerset then Earl of Hert^ to hold to him & his heirs. And by indenture, 4 May, a? 37, it was agreed that Darrell should assure to the said Duke & his heirs the said manors being worth _;^33 . 8 clear. In return for which the Duke should reassure Orcheston to S' Ed. Darrell with the two other manors aforesaid worth in all ;^34 which assurance was accordingly made. Whereupon it was decided that the Duke by name should recover from Darrell the manor^ Afterwards the recovery passed in the Appendix. 22)J names of ST John Thynne and John Berwicke in trust for the same Duke. By force of which assurance Darrell entered and possessed the manors of Winterborne and Orcheston and so seised died and the same descended to William Darrell. And by force hereof the said Duke for his part likewise entered and enjoyed the manors of Wexcombe and Burbage Savage all his life and so seised died and the Earl of Herts his son now living received assignment of the same from the Court of Wards. But now William Darrell brings his Writ of Error against ST John Thynne who having died he hath renewed his suit against Mr. Thynne the heir, alledging the want of warrants of Attorney to make the said Recovery 37 He"; 8 good in law, whereas the making of those warrants being a mere formality was overlooked at that time, and so the Deft, has no remedy against the greed of the said William Darrell who both enjoys the manors formerly given in exchange for the lands which he now covets and would resume against the act of his own father and all right and equity. Moreover the success of the said suit will be prejudicial to her Highness who is bound to make good to the heirs of the late Duke any of those lands from which . they shall be evicted, by force of the Stat. 5 & 6 Ed. VI. In consideration whereof the Deft, prays that the Lord Chief Justice & other justices be commanded to stay the Pfifs. proceed- ings till her Majesty's pleasure be known in the matter. To THE Right Honorable the Lords and others of THE QUEENES Mat'?^ MOST HONORABLE PrYVYE COUNSELL. Right honorable. Wheras yoT humble suppliant William Darrell hath bene most maliciouslye prosecuted by men of smalle credit and lesse honestie, bye sundrye complaintes to yoT hono"? w* have objected divers odious matters, but have made no coloT of purpose therein after theire sundrye attemptes and subornations made in that behalf; for aunsweringe wherof yoT supplT hath longe attendid in this towne to the greate impayringe of his helthe and almost the utter deprivinge therof for ever. May it please yoT hono"? to waye the cause of this accusation to proceede of mallice as also the accusers and what they are and how after longe tyme drawinge one 238 Appendix. accusation from another, not restinge on anie certayntie, they seeke to calle in question my lyfe, and fame, w'."" I esteme more then my life, and to retaine me here to my greate expence and charge to the daunger of my Hfe. And where it plesed yo^ hono'f to refer the heringe and orderinge of this cause to the right honorable the Lord Buckhurst and Mr. Secretarye Woley, whoe preceded in. heringe of parte of the accusations longe sithens and have sithens by what occasion yo' suppl' knoweth not sursesed theire further proceedinges therein, by means wherof yoT suppl' to his importable charge and troble is still deteyned heere to aunswere theis faulce acusacions. He therfore beinge now unable by meanes of sicknes to attende yo^ honor! accordinge to his bounden dutie, most humblie by this his petition besechethe yof honor' spedelie to here and determine the saide cause or els to permit yo' supplf to departe to his home, and he will allwaies be forthcominge redye to aunswere whatsoever shalbe objected against him. [Endorsed] The Humble Petition of William Darrell, Esquier. 23 Marche where divers petitions have ben exhibited against him [1585] of mattyre in despeuthe, having to his great chardg attended a long tyme, that his cause may be hard or that he may be dismissed. The complaintes againste him are by y'!' LL. order referred to Mr. Attorney's consideration and reporte. "The Case inter Darrell et Stukeley." Sr Edward Darrell, tenante in Taile of the manor of Axforde conteyninge amongest other thinges a messuage Barne and close, and twooe thousand acres of lande, Tie, lyeinge in severall closes and parceUes aboute the said howse demyseth the premyses to Jefferay Gunter for xl? yeres. The leasee entereth '\ ys in possession, And after the said S' Edward Darrell maketh a deede to S' Willyam Esser purportinge a feofment w* warranty of the premyses and therein conteyneth a letter of Attorney to delyver seisyne. The said Attorney commeth to the howse to the intent to execute the said deede of feofment and there fyndeth the servant of the Leasee and commaundeth him to come owte of the howse ; for the purpose aforesaid. The servant cometh owte of the howse whoe beinge present uppon the premyses owte of the howse and the said leassee beinge absent the sayd attorney entered into the howse and tooke Appendix. 239 possession of the premyses accordingly, and came owte agayne presently shuttinge the doore. And thereuppon forthwith by the ringe of the said doare in the viewe and presence of the said servant beinge there as ys aforesaid delyvered possession thereof in the name of all the premyses. To the use of S^ Willyam Essex ac- cordinge to the said deede. And lykewyse presently in lyke presence of the said servant delyvered lyke possession in a parcel of the saide grownde adjoyninge to the said howse by a turfFe cutt there. And ymmediately after the said lyverye the said leassee being absent duringe the tyme aforesaid came hoame to the said howse to whome the said Attorney sayed That he must change his Lorde ; whoe then agreed thereto, savinge his said lease. And after the said ST William Essex, havinge or clayminge the premyses in forme afore- said, by his last will in wrytinge dat. xxvij° die Januarij anno primo Ed. vj'.' dyd devyse the premyses unto Edward Essex for terme of his lyfe with dyverse remainders over to others for lyfe. And with a remainder over, after, to the said Edward Essex and the heires of his body with dyverse remainders over in taile. And lastley with a remainder over to the righte heires of the said S' William Essex "^ further willeth as followeth, viz. And I will that yf S' Edward Darrell content and paye to my sonne Thomas Essex the elder and John Pollard beinge lyvinge and one of my executors or to eyther of them within three monethes nexte after my decease the some of sixe hundred powndes ; then I will that the said Sf Edward Darrell shall have the premyses to him for terme of his lyfe and after his decease to Willyam Darrell his sonne and heire apparant and to the heires males of his body with dyverse remainders over, etc. And for default of suche yssue, to remayne to the right heires of the said S:: Edward Darrell ST Willyam Essex dyeth and after Sr Edward Darrell w^in three monethes next after the death of the said ST William Essex maketh suche a supposed tender and offer of money to Thomas Essex the elder beinge sonne and heire of the said ST William and one of his executors ; and in suche maner and w* suche refusall thereof by the said Thomas Essex as in the deposicions of bothe partes ys conteyned and shalbe allowed by the L. Keeper or Court of Chauncery. And after the said ST Edward Darrell dyed, after whose death a° iij"- Eliz : Edward Essex levyed a fyne of the premyses to Hughe Stukeley deforciant; the said leassee then and allwayes contyinuing his possession and lease aforesaid. 240 Appendix, The Questions, i) First whether any the circumstances aforesaid make any dis- contynuance of the premyses of any parte thereof, to take awaye the entry of the yssue in Tayle aforesaid, or not ? 2) Item : yf the same supposed tender be allowed by the said L. Keeper to be a sufficient tender in lawe accordinge to the sayd will ; then whether the said devyse condycionall be a good devyse in lawe to convey the premyses to the sayd Edward Darrell, &c., according to the said will, or not ? [Endorsed] Case between Darell & Stukeley. Wild Darrell in Judgment on his Neighbours. Inquisition taken at Littlecote, Wilts, 2nd Oct' 29 Eliz. before William Darrell Esq', and 3 other commissioners by the oath of the jurors who present as follows. i) That T. Goddard gent, and Anthony &. John Hynton gents, are the farmers of H.M. farm of Alborne. Henry Martyn has one farm there by lease. George Walrond is the Ranger & Keeper of Alborne Chace, and is in prison in the Fleet for religion. 2) That only 120 deer are left there. Hilwood coppice, 42 acres, has been sold by Edward Gilbert at jQj, .6.8 per acre, besides 200 trees sold at 3''/4'' each. The same Gilbert, ten years ago, felled another coppice there, 65 acres worth ;^5 per acre, selling 444 oaks at 4/8 and 36 ashes at 4/- Also, three years ago, Mr. Richard Inkpen sold a coppice of 40 acres at £^\ per acre besides 120 trees at 4/- Also, seven years ago, he sold 26 acres at ;^s .6.8 besides 120 trees at 4/- on pretence that these were required for palings to the Park. One John Williams has felled and sold secretly 24 ashes at 3/4 and 208 trees at 5/- on pretence of fuel for the beacons for which 30 only were used. The said Williams may do as he pleases being Mr. Sadler's man ; and during the last ten years he has also sold for timber 108 trees at 3/4 ; 75 at 5/- and 130 at 6/- 3) That J. Dixon paid Mr. Inkpen ;^io for the copy of a yard- land. After the death of Alice Sexten, Thomas her son asked to be admitted but M": Gilbert gave the copy to one of M^ Sadler's men who paid £,^ only to the Queen. And afterwards one T. Smith agreed with M'. Gilbert for the same giving him ;^6o and to the Queen Appendix. 241 only £(). That after the death of T. Coleman, J. Bright received a barn land paying 3/4 to the Queen and to Mr Gilbert £/^. That Jane Dawntrey against the Custom surrendered her widows estate and took it again for her children paying to the Queen £,j^ and to W. Gilbert £,(> . 13.4, and that four other tenants have done the like. That in 1584 J. Burche of East Garston with 19 years lease to run, having received hard words of M5 Attorney in open court, Mr Inkpen made him a new lease of 31 years taking 300 marks for the same. That T. Goddard having a lease given him of 4 or 5 acres Mr Inkpen as surveyor gave him 40 acres. That many ten- ants have sold trees by the connivance of Mr Inkpen and Mr Sadler namely 1097 at great prices. Also a woodland has been sold by, the same at ;^io, and ten acres, 9 years ago, at 43/- per acre. Dame Elizabeth's coppice has been twice sold in the last 12 years by Mr Inkpen & Mr Sadler at 40/- and 23/4 per acre respec- tively. 4) That the conies and deer are left to spoil the woods in Albome Chace, and colts and calves are put in the copses by Mr Sadler and Mr Inkpen and her Majesty's woods destroyed and her Majesty's tenants undone. Mr G. Walrond encroaches on Alborne wastes to the extent of ten acres. 5) That in Helms Heath in Berks, in the last 19 years, 1200 trees have been felled as may be seen by the roots, besides many more which have been uprooted, making a waste to the extent of ;^6oo. Also diverse other wastes have been made there which filled woodmen have estimated at ;^iooo on their oath. That reo trees have been felled in Sanden-down at 5/- and that R. Staffle- ton has inclosed 2 acres of Helm's Heath. 6) In Hungerford Park 3 copses have been sold, one of ro\ acres, at 40/- per acre; the other two 8 and 15 acres respectively. There are only 66 deer left there; 3 years ago there were 300. In the last 12 years 230 oaks and ashes have been felled at 6/8. Mr Sadler has made a Hop-yard in the Park and grubbed up the trees and also has made a pond for his cattle and a new gate for his carriages towards Everley and Helm's Heath. 7) That before the new house was built in the Park, there was a lodge convenient for the Keeper who was Mr Cheyney a good gentleman and of good worship. But now the new house had been built away from the lodge having many handsome rooms in it and on the North a Base-court walled about and a gate-house in front R 242 Appendix. of the house. The building of this new house has straitened the Park it being but little, 8) Here W. Curteys has Chantry-lands in lease, for one of which he pays M^.. Sadler 40 marks for his favour. At Northstanden 60 trees are felled by M' Edmund Hungerford worth 5/- each, and 60 more worth the same. Also he has cut up a hedge, and felled a copse of s acres, at 40/- per acre and another of 8 acres at z6/8, 12 years ago and 12 years respectively. - Also M^ Hungerford has en- grossed the above spoils and 60 more trees at 4/- by connivance of M' Inkpen who sold him the wood wardship of that manor for 33/4 as is confessed by M' John Hungerford. Also the same John Hungerford has felled one tree worth 3/4 which he gave to his nurse. Further that M' Ed. Hungerford has felled 2 ashes worth 5/- each and 2 oaks worth 3/4 each. But what other wastes have been committed here the jurors cannot tell since the Queens Majesty's ground has become so commingled with M' Hungerford's that they have looked for no further spoil. [Signed by William Darrell and the other Commissioners] The Hungerford-Darrell Divorce Case 1568-70. WiLLiM Jones proveth ; Mr. Darrell and my ladye to sett ij or iij hours together divers times in the dyning chamber at ffarley w* a pair [of] tables between them, never playing, but leaning over the table and talking togethers until some person chaunce to come into the chamber and then they shuffell the men and cast the dyce as the had byn playing : he sometimes standing uppon the stairs and having that order and sometime in the closet adjoyning to the dyning chamber. He proveth the driilcking of wine at meales betwene my lady and Mr. Darell in a secret pott of wine. 2. John Golif proveth ; that seven night at the lest after twelve, tide last, on a certaine night he came downe into the parlor fynding Alice Gedsale & Elizabeth Buppell folding clothes and asking them when they wold go to bedd in the mean time comes M" Essex and asking him, " Sir boy, what make you here," ledd him by the ear into King E. tower and in the mean time he hearde some one russhing by into my Lady Hung'ford's chamber. Appendix. 243 That night when all were abedd he went into Mr. Darrell's chamber and ther founde his hose and dublet and sawe that he had byn in bedd and was gone. Than he went to my ladies chambre dore and there barkening hard Mr. Darrell and my Lady in bedd together. Wheruppon he called Alice Cleck, in the nurcery chamber going to bedd, who came forth unto him and they two went togetheres to my Ladies chamber and secrethe conveyed themselves into the chamber behind the portal and the hangings of the chamber when they hard and sawe the saide Darrell and Lady in bedd together. And he saith further that the said Xtemas time he sawe on a sertaine day, having before sent Godsall away who was working and mending a frese coat of ST Walters in the jlor to set his * the said Jolif standing w' in the wardrop dore sawe Darrell becking with his finger the said lady " cum wench I warrant the," and theruppon the Lady stepped furth being redd coloured and came up by the wardrobe dore and passed into the letill hal and forward into the kitchen, and aforward the said Darrell and she mett and giving salutacons to the other as though one had not seen another that daie. He saithe he was appointed to wait uppon Mr. Darrell in his chamber Xtemas and saith that on a night he laye on a Pallet when as Mr. Darrell rose in the night and was absent iij or iiij houres. He saith that in Easter term 1565 when as Mr. Hungerford ^as sick in London Mr. Darrell was at Ffarley v or vj dales, during w* time on a certain night he found Mr. Darrell out of his chamber and bedd, and afterwards going to my ladies chamber and bedd hard him in bedd with her. And then coming down next w* John Ward and told him what he had seen that night and then afterwardes Ward and he together wente againe as well into Darrell's chamber as my ladies and saw the premisses. He proveth the drinking of wine betwene Mr. Darrell and my Lady and also dissembling plaing at tables. Alice Jones aggreeth w^* the said Jolif the first two being as proof as of seeing my Lady and Mr. Darrell in bedd together [w";"" she might well peceive and decern being a fier in the chamber the mone shining bright and the windowes open t]. She saith that the same Xmas time Jane Ward and she making my ladie's bedd the said Alice founde a playster betwene the sheetes of her bedd [of the said ladie's beddj.t * Illegible. t Inserted by counsel. 244 Appendix. She saith that when Mr. Hungerford the same Xmas time hath byn absent a hawking she hath come into my ladie's chamber and Mr. Darrell lieing on the bedd by my Lady dalieng with her and embrasing, kissing and toying. And when S' Walter hath come in he hath sUpt away to his own chamber at a back paier of stayres towards the nurcery and then by and by has fayned to cum up the other staires and call to Sf Walter asking him if he wer up as though he had not known him to be abrode. She saith that in a morning in the weke after xij-tide she met early in the morning Darrell cumming from his ladie's chamber in a night gown and slippers, bar legged, in the wite chamber, Mr. Hun- gerford being gon to London. John Ward aggreeth w* Jolif for seing my ladie and Darrell in bed together in Easter term and also missing Darrell out of his chamber saying he might see them together in bedd for that it was a mone shyninge bright and ij great glasse windowes open. Hugh Richards proveth the gift on New yeres day being a table cloth and a handkercher, and in the hankercher a handfull of owchers Wii a messuage that my lady prayed to God that he might prosper well and his seede that he should sowe that yeire. He saith also that M': Darrell walking into the fke y' Xmas. time to see c'tain psons that had stoUen M' Hungerford's deer, the said Darrell going in slippers was watched and at his coming in founde my Lady by the fier and said he must shift his hose and a shirt. Then my lady willed him to goe into her chamber for taking of cold for ther was a good fier. Hugh afterwards cuming with a shirt and his hose through the said great chamber my lady went before him into her chamber where M^ Darrell was and there receivid the shirt and hose at the dore, the said Hugh returning back leving them there in the chamber. The said Hugh saithe that during the time that the said S' Walter was at home, all the said Xmas time, he laie upon a pallet in M^ Darrells chamber. In w':'' time after he had brought his master to bedd he was willed to go forth of the chamber for a while every night, and afterwards meaninge to cum to bedd he hath seen M? Essex talking w'-'' his Mf untill xj of the clock, sometime xij, y' one or twoo in the morning, the said Hugh in the mean time by the fire in the hall. Appendix, 245 He saith that as soone as M^ Hungerforde was gone to London, this desponentes pallet was removed into a chamber over the hall doore being by a space of a weeke after M^ Hungerforde was gone. He saithe that every night during the sevenight William Darrell never went to his owne bedd, for he waited in his chamber and pullid of his hose, and therj wold lie down on his bedde in his night gowne and will the said Hugh to goe to bedd. He saithe that every morning whenes he had come into the chamber f^ weke to make his M^ a fier he alwaies found the curtains of the bedd close joyned and no fson in bedd nor the sheetes warm or ruffled, whereby it might be proved that no ?son had lien there by night, also that M"? Essex did every night bring M'; Darrell a cawdell and a cupp of methglen. My Lady and M^ Darrell came arm in arm to the stable together the evening before MT Darrell's def ture, at that time and on the morning at his dejture, brought him to horse and kissed him. He saith that a monith before midsomer was xij monithe, one Miler, a servant of M": Darrell, came to Ethropp to speake with my Lady, and after he had byn there ij houres he returned back w* a K' from my Lady to M' Darrell, and within ij daies after M'. Darrell came himself to Ethropp and tarried there three daiea. He saithe that the morning that the said Darrell depted, he, this deponent, came up with wood in his arm to make a fier in my ladies Chamber, and as sone as he came into the chamber, immediately followed M' Darrell and bad my lady good morrow. . . . My lady bidding him good morrow rose up in her bedd turning herself towards him pulling up the bedd stufes that were on that side, and willed him to sit down on the beddes side and then comanded the said Hugh to go forth the chamber. Within half an houre after M'.= Essex willed the said Hugh to go to M'f Ralegh and will her to send the said lady a couple of the best chickens w^ chickens were afterwards rested in my ladies chamber and my lady the said Darrell and M? Essex brak their fast togethers in my ladies chamber. Afterward my lady brought M^ Darrell to horse and willed this deponent to bring him on the vway. The said Hugh brought him to Aytesbury Caussey where M^ Darrell lighted and wrote a 1'.= under a bush to my Ladie w* after he had sealed he delivered to this deponent and then the said Darrell took from about his neck a tablet of gold ... and put it within 246 Appendix. a piece of paper and as lie rode back againe he opened the tablet w'Mn the w* was a hart in a redd stone. He saithe that between Michelmas and hallowtide was . . . monith M' Hungerford came to my lady to ... my lady faynid her self sicke, being well enough before his coming, and then my ladie refused to lie with him. M' Hungerford when he went away willed my lady if she lackid anything to send Godsale to him to London for it and so the said S' Walter and within ij or three daies after my lady came up to London. (Abstract.) In dei nomine Amen Coram nobis venerabilibus etc. Pars domini Walteris Hungerford se allegat in his scriptis prout sequitur. 1. Imprimis — That in the months Mar. Apl. May, June, July, Aug., Sep-, Octob":, Novr, Dec^, Jan-r, Febr, Mar. 1564, 5-6-7-8 "quidam Willelmus Darrell arm." in the house of Sir Walter Hunger- ford at Farley (Bath and Wells Diocese) consorted familiarly with Dame Anne Hungerford and slept there. 2. Item — That William Darrell afsl was wont to enter the bed chamber of Dame Anne afsl in the absence of S' Walter Hunger- ford afs^ and lie down with her " solus cum sola familiariter jocando, ridendo, osculando, palpando, et amplectando" as seen and separated in the acts. 3. Item — That in Easter term 1565 S' Walter Hungerford was sick in London having gone thither about urgent business. 4. That during his sickness as afs'^ William Darrell frequented his house at Farley and sojourned there by the space of 4, 3, 2 or i week " bibendo, ridendo, jocando, &c." with Dame Anne careless of his sickness, &c. 5. "That during the sickness of S' Walter Hungerford afs* the same William Darrell & Dame Anne were divers times sleeping in bed " solus cum sola, &c." besides " bibendo &c. ut supra." 6. That at Farley afs'? " una tibiarum meraorati Willelmi Darrell percussa, se in saltern aliqua ex parte putrefacta & corrupta fuit, et in eadem pharmatica pro ejusdem sanitate habebat et usus est de scientia noticia vel Credulitate dicte Anne." 7. That the plaster afs*? was found in Dame Anne's bed "inter litheamina." 8. Th! in the years and months above but e.g. in 1567-8 "pen- Appendix. 247 dente lite" brought by Dame Anne contra Sf W. H. "licet nuUiter instituit" — " The sayde Darrell hath dyverses & sundry tymes resorted to the company of the said Dame Ann soigiorning here in London And hath used to cum to her w^in her lodgings the some tyme in one sort of apparell and some time in an other such as he used not comonly to were abrode ye same tyme in pore man's apparell be- cause he would not be knowen in as secret sort and maner as possible he could because they would have no evell suspicion con- ceyved of their lewd cumunyng or resorting together." 9. Darrell has given to Dame Anne money and other things and •she to him as will be proved hereafter in this case. 10. It"! And that Darrell has comitted adultery with Dame Anne both at Farley and in London many times and places. 11. Whereby both at Farley and "in vicinis locis" there is a great belief & suspicion of the adultery afsd. and that it is in common report thereabouts. 12. "Item quod dictus Willelimus) Darrell fit liberius frueretur consuetudine dicte Anne uxorem sua Jpria a cohabitatione sua reiecit et in camera divortij in jus vocavit ac in judicio ab ea se/ari extendit, que lis adhuc pendet ad petitionem dicti Willelmi Darrell." 13. Tht Dame Anne has abstracted "bona &c." to the value zsper schedule &c. 14. That all the premisses are true. Sir Frances Englefield to Dorothy Essex. "You have hearde (I doubte not) how my La. Hungerfardes greate sewte ys at lengthe endyd by sentens to her suflfycyent purgation and honor, thoughe neyther suffycyent for her recompens nor for hys punysshement. . . . Her letters to me were bothe of one effecte, to say, to procure what I may that by her fryndes som ordre may be taken to bryng her out of debte, and to furnyshe her to lyve in suche an estate as they her fryndes thynke mete that she doo susteyne. I am not ignoraunt that the charges wilbe greater than any one of them (that may) will willingly beare and I know that some of them that may best, will doe least. Yet see I none other way untyll God send that the justyce of her cause may be better hearde, and that greate beaste my cosen compellyd bothe to recompens the injuryes doone her, and to fumyse her wythe yerely lyvyng accordyng to the portion that she brought hym. LouvAiNE, April 19th, 1570. 248 Appendix. Lady Anna Hungerford to the Same. My dear Essex, I have reseved diveres lettres from you and allso from her grasse. ... I have bin in that nesessete y' I have solde all my wering clothes and my tabell clothe and suche linens as you knowe I hade — and all to helpe me to maintane my sute in lawe in clering me of myn innoseence. And now I have sentence of my side, but Master Hungerforde will not pay my charges nor yet geve me living whiche ye lawe geves me, but the rather will li in the flete, rather then to parte w' any peny of living w? me. O my deare Doll what endelles messeres do I live in ! O what frendes had I that this most wrechedly hathe utterly caste me and all mine away. I am not abell to write ye one quarter of my trobeles whiche I have indured. Sur Water Hungerfo, and his brother hathe touched me in iij thinges, but I wolde in no case have ye douches to knowe them for geving hur grefe. The furste was, sence you wente, adultery. Ye seckond w' morder. Ye iij that I wolde a' poyssoned him vj yeares agone ; but all thes has fallen out to his shame ; but I shall never recover it whilest I live, the greves hathe bin and is suche to me, and mine necessetys so, that I fear I shall never be as I have byn. ... I have nobody to travell for me for Gardener is gone from my father, and I have not to geve him anything to sarve me so y' I knowe not what to doo ; and my horesses ar bothe dede so y' I have nothinge to helpe myselfe w' all. . . . I am forssed to put all my fokes away at medsomer for y. I have not to kepe them and nothing trebles me so muche as that I have not to do for Godsoll for he has loste muche by his sarving of me. My cheldrene I have not harde of this xj mountes and more. Y. ar loste for wante of good plassing; Susane is as I hear clen spoilled, she has forgotten to rede and hur complexsione clen gone w' an yeche, and she hathe skante to shefte her w! all. Jane is w? a semster in Malboro very evel to [do]. Surly I wer happy if God wolde take them out of this Hfe. The Savoy, March 25th, 1570. Same to the Duchess of Feria. I wryt unto your grase . . . how sentence hathe passed w| me ye laste tearme . . . also how Mr. Hungerforde is in ye Appendix. 249 Flete & ther will remaine becaues he will nether geve me any living nor yet pay me never a peny of my charges whiche is two hundred poundes and fifte that he is alredy condemned in. So f. I amhoplesofanythingtobegottenathishandes. . . . Touching my children . . . I am as a stranger unto them . . . which I must suffer praing God to bles them & make them all his servantes for other good then by prayer can I not do them. I hear yf ar very evell youssed and no bringer up y? have. Well God comforte and helpe them. EvEROPE, 20th March, 1570. Criminal Charge against Wild Darrell. Right honorable in most humble wise my comendations promised. Understanding by Thomas Hewse servaunte to William Darrell Esquier, that youer pleasuer is to be advertised of the dealinges that happined at Nubery the twentithe of December, against the saide William Darrell and John Whithed his servaunte, by one George Essex gentleman and MT. Cater towching a murther that sholde be doon abowt three yeares past by the saide John Whithed, nowe servaunte to thafore named William Darrell and at the time of the murther doon servaunte to one George Darrell gentleman, dwelling in Kentte. May it please yoT honor, the sixtinthe of De- cember by vertue of comition owt of the right honorable and highe courte of Stareke Chamber, directed to Sir Henry Nevett Mr. Antony Bridgis, Mf Roger Younge and my selfe for the examinations of carsisse in controversie beetwene the aforesaide William Darrell of the one ftie, and Mr. Hide of Denchwoorth on the other f te uppon Interogatorisse and witnicisse of bothe ftes produced After the most fte of those caucisse hardde, and the comitionerse in good hope the varience sholde be appeased beetweene the Jtise greeved, yet whilse we were sitting in examination Mr. Essex and M' Cater aforsaide desired to speake w* the comitionerse wheruppon verry earnestly they did shewe unto us that thafore named John Whithed had comitted a murther, and did disier that he might bee appre- hended and putte to his answeare. So hit was thought good by Sir Henry Nevell, and the rest of the Justices that the saide Whithed 250 Appendix. sholde be attached, and brought beefore us, to answere to that lawe required by the bailye of the towne. Who after he had doon his best to searche the f tie to be chardged, signified that he colde not finde him. Whereuppon for the dischardge of the dewtise of the Justices aforsaide, hit was thought good that M' Younge and my selfe sholde gooe to a house in the towne where Mr. Darrell laye, to see what we might dooe for thapprehenmenth of the f tie accused And after ower cominge thether imparting to W- Darrell the cause of ower comminge, presently he used suche diligence as by his good meandes the j^tie accused was brought beefore us, and putte under arest, at whiche time and place th'afore named George Essex and one Mr. Edmunde Essex his brother did verry muche misuse in woordes Mr. Darrell, who with greate patience endured the same, and in thend Mr. Edmunde Essex served him with a writte called a supina, and so for that time we departed, and signified to Sir Henry Nevell ower dooinges, and theruppon hit was thought good t^hat Mr. Essex and Mr. Cater sholde chardge the prisoner in what they colde saye in the princisse behalfe, and therfore M' Younge M' Bridgisse my selfe with many others wentte backe again to Mr. Dar- relles lodginge and called the prisoner before M' Essex and Mr. Cater, both which gentlemen did arest thafore named Whithed of the murtheringe of one Blontte, wherwithall M' Cater stepping forth, verily to my remembraunce and if I sholde be deposed I thincke saffly with my consience I maye afferme, saiinge these woordes. I arrest Mf. Darrell his Mr. as accessarie to the same. Wheruppon hit was thought good that he sholde. come where Mr. Darrell was to chardge his ^son at whiche time he used the verry speache and woordes as by this bill heere enclosed yo' honor maye fceve. So W. Darrell thincking him selfe verry hardly and ma- liciously dealte withall by Mr. Cater brake owt with sume woordes, the woorst wherof to my remembraunce was he called Mr. Cater Promowter whereunto M' Cater replied and saide, he was as honest as himselfe, a gentleeman, and his fellowe in any place in Englande. Further the saide George Essex did moste often*and verry earnestly require the good aberinge against M' Darrell and all his servauntes, and truly in my consience by that I colde gather by the reportte the saide M' Essex withowt any greate cause deserved of M' Darrell. Wherefore hit was thought verry hard to graunte the good abering uppon such causisse as were alledged, beeing no greater. Never- thelesse the peace was graunted against him, the coppye wherof is Appendix. 251 also heere enclosed. Thusse humbly I take my lave of yo' honor and beeseche God to send you muche encrease of the same, ffrom my house at Aldermaston the xxvj* of December your honers holy to comand WiLLM. FORSTER. [Endorsed] To the right honorable Sir James Croft Knight controler of the Queen's Mat^' housholde and one of her most honorable privy counsaile these be Delivered Wild Darrell's Imprisonment and Flight. My Lord of Pembroocke sent Steven Appleferd to me the x' Januarij for Lx" And for vc" more to be paied w*in a monneth for my releasement of prisun. And the answere I made appereth by the coppie of Steven Applefeird's writen therupon to Stransham as followeth. Steven Mr. Stransham accordinge to my L coinaundment I Appleferd's jj^ve bin w* M' Darrell and told him that my L. hadd ^ ^'' sent me lor Lx" w'*" he ought his Lordship. And seing the manner he hath broken jmise w"" my L. my Lord liked to have of Axforde. his owne. His answere was, that it was good reason my Lord should have his owne, but for for the Lx" he would accompt w* my Lorde for it. I told him likewise that my Lord willed him to f vide vc" more w^in this monneth for my Lord for his deliverie out of prison ; he said that it was for my Lorde cause that he was ther. Moreover he said he was a freeman and subjecte to none but to the prince to whome my L was subjecte as well as he him- self. And that the lawes should determine the matters betwyne them. This was his answer to me but I recevid not any money of him. So w"" my com. etc. 252 Appendix. Steven Appleford 1 have im^ted the contentes of yo' letters to my Lord his Lordshippe's pleasure is you should agayne goo to W. Darrell, And tell him that his Lordship knoweth noo reason of any accompt that is to be made betwyne his Lordship '\ him, And therefore if his Lx" be not p'sently sent it shalbe litell for Dar- rell's ease T: lesse for his honestie. Towchinge the vc" you must saye That he was in prison for his owne knaverie & not for his lord- shipp's sake, And that in Deniall of the f formaunce of his jmise, his Lordshipp saieth that ther is nether truth in his wourdes nor honestie in his deades. And because he doth play the knave, his Lordship will not onely blase him for a knave, but baffle him lik a knave. And so I bidd you farewell. Written this xv* of Januarij. yo' fellow & assured frind, Arthure Massinger. [Endorsed] To my loving frind and fellowe Steven Appleforde at Remsburie. My answere to thes letters that were shewed me by Steven w"" licence to coppie them was. That I would praye for his lordship. And that I merveled where he learned such langwage, And that I loked for such sithence som of my neybourghes '^ they that were noblye borne heth not longe agoo recevid almost the like. I will flye him and fvid as I may by order for my saffetee. Wiseman my Lordes man meatinge me in Mr. Attur- neyes chamber said to me that ther were straynge courses intended agaynst me & bade me loke to it. My answer was to that ; Is ther nothing allwayes but straynge courses in hande, now the Lorde defende me And amende the wordell. (IV.) THE DARRELL CORRESPONDENCE. I. News-Letters, Love Letters & Letters OF Complement. Lady Hungerford to William Darrell. I have sente to you my dear Will a messenger off great truste by whom you shall se the coppe of the essaminyng off thowes Varletes, as you may well perseve by ther tales the have bene well tawte ther lessones. But I dout not but that God will defende me from all the vill & abomynabell practiscis, and shamefoU rewarde shall the have for ther great paines and specially thowes at whos handes I have not desarved it, but sithe it is my fortune to be thus plaged for your sake, I muste & will be contented w! all, praing you to ploke up yower wittes and memory to defende this my unfortunate cawes & youres ; for my parte I am both ignoraund & witles to dele in those matres, yet have I good Will to doo therein to the uttermost, whiche mythinkes I kolde muche better do iff I myght talke wythe you whiche cannot be till ye tearme, be no meanes, & that is to me no small greflf; at whiche time you shall know how & wher to talke w! me. In the mene season it shalbe requysite for you & me bothe to sherche and seeke oute what possabell may be to deface and disprove thos varieties that soo vily hathe yoused us. Talke you I pray you effecteously w' this barer who hathe noted certaine thinges to be considered off ; & especially for the times, and what witnesses be beste to be had or sought fore. It trubles me muche & feares me more, & nobody have I to take and say my minde unto, but only you who I cannot have. God send me reste & quietnes in heven, for hear I have none in this worlde. I have muche more to wryte then ether helthe will soffer me or you to rede w! oute being wery, wher fore I leve off this matter till we mete, trusting my tounge and wittes will better com to me and sarve me then at our Last meting the did, for the site off you then was suche to me as I kolde not otere that whiche faine I wolde have sayde. Now as touching your lettres whiche you sent me by your man whom at that time founde me in suche sounding fitts and wekenys as yet I ame not any longe time voyde thereofif, so that I kolde not 254 Appendix. then write as I wolde, nor at this present cane soo well as I kolde wische ; and for you writing to my frendis, I holde well w' all soo it be done advisedly & but to my father only as I have geven this barer instructions. My Lorde off Lester, writ a very friendly letter to my father in my behalfe, declaring I shall not lacke all the frendship he may do for me. And wher you put me in remembarance to yowes you well and all soo charging me w' my othe, to the furste I say I have not at any time missused you, nor never will to the deathe, and then I truste no othe is or cane be brokifl. But how you have and will yowes me it hathe & dothe reste only in you, I charge you not and when you will me to commande you and all you have, full well you knowe my dear dorrell I never wayed your goodes or Landes but only you and your faithefuU good Will, as God be my Judge & your selfe, iff ether I myght or kolde by any possobell meanes have incressede your worshep, or welthe, ther never wanted good Will in me at any time ; but how long or littell a time soo ever I live, I loke not to be voyde off greves off olde time growen ; & in what case I am or shall be in I knowe not. Then way you who hathe moste cause not only to saye consider — but alsoo to consider. To your furrst letter I answer laste, thinking not you have loste any frendes but rather plesereth you in that the have shewed ther dissembling frend- shep, but I dot not, as I have afore saide butt that God will provide for us meny frends. Luker & gaine makes meny dissembling and hollow hartes, and whar as you say you will kepe ye burde in your breste saiffe and othe that you have sworne never to revelle nor breake, one thinge assur yourselfe off, cawes justly you shall have none to breke & in tim I shall well find & parseve your furste menyng and constancey. This my dear Will I leve forder to wryte, to you till we may mete, whiche I truste shall be shortely ; praing AUmyte Gode to presarve and kepe the bothe body and sole. During liffe ever one. A. HUNGERFORDE. The barrer hear off semes to be very carfuU of my bisnis and painfull I have founde him, and a good sotell hede anoweff to dele in mattres. Ones again a looo times fare well ti[ll] mor at large, may I talke w' Him. A. H. To the right worshepfuU my cossane Master Darrell Geve these at [Littlecote] Appendix. 255 Same to Same. My good dorrell I hear f. you mett w? Lewes Ty at Colbrok, and ther stayed him in soo muche that Edward Hungerford was faine to make great sute to my Lord off Londane to have him dis- charged wher he standethe bounde for his apparence at the next Court day and allso that he shall appere at all times afterwardes, from time to time. He alsoo made great complante that ether you did or elles you wolde have sene the Letteres that he brought from Sir Walter, as yff you have not I wolde to God you hade s. and y. touchin the other s. Letter d. you wot off, I wolde faine it were mendid for myne Aunte hathe & dothe show it to diveres as to my Lorde of Lester, my Lady Sidney, and otheres and makethe suche bragges off it as you never saw, all soo bedle the regester tolde me that he harde Lowes Die shuld be offred a living worth xx markes by the year, to forsake his master but how or be home I know not For the Love off God my good Will be carfuU for me this matter and thinke how muche it standethe me uppone, and in any wyse sake I pray you to bringe in as meny witnyssis for the profe off your being at Londane all the Ester terme as by any possebell menes you cane get/ GodsoU was very straytly exsamenned apon ye intergatoryes there was xl of them layed in againste him and amoungaste whiche ther was one to knowe whether you came to my loging during the time you wer at London, and whether we dede mete or see one annother or not As for any sartain nues, we have none as it [yet], but dayly the poste ar loked for. Young Roper is comyted to prysin wj divres other from the Star chamber for rehgi- one matter, but it is thought greter parsones shall follough. And this wisshing you as well as your one [own] harte can desire, to ye Almytey I leve you. Erom London. The xx off Feberyary. Ever one during life. In any case A. Hungerforde. lowes not ye s. letter, d. Small thinges can doo no harem. &_y. frendship x. we shall not lake. To my very frend Master Dorrell geve [thes]— Same to Same. My dear Dorrell W. my faythefuU comendacyories this barer makethe suche haste that I have no time to write as I wolde, but for 256 Appendix. ye passiane off Gode thinke what you have to doo & let me not be undone, for this barer telleth me that my counsell is marvellouesly astoned for y' the cannot goo forwarde acording to ther furste instructiones so y? now y° know not what to saye or what to lay in for answer. Y° have sent to me to knowe what I kolde say consarnying your being to me at Ester terem was iij year, whiche to geve my remembrance you were not at that tim ther but off sartaine I cannot tell I rather thinke you wer ther at trynytie terme, but full well I doo & ever shall remember you wer ther at Ester. Thus putting my only tuste in you I comyt you to ye allmyte who send you as well in thinge as your selfe wolde wishe. In haste at midnyte. A. H. To Y° Right Worshepfull Master Dorrell. rede & Iren. g[eve] theis. Same io Same. < Myster Dorrell, I by the othe that I have sworne upone the holy Angleste do acknowledge that if Sir Water Hungerfer ray husband now liveng do departe oute of thys lyfe,* that I here by the othe that I have swarne, and wytnes of thys my hande that I wyll take you to my husbande. Wytnes therof thys my hand suffiesyth. Anna Hungerford. [Endorsed by William Darrell.] To his well beloved wife, the lady Hungerford, at the Castell of Frogges be thys delivered. William Hide to William Darrell. Yor curtesy used ■towardes me, good unqle, requireth a greater [recompense] then I am able to make you ; but therunto assuer yo^selfe [of my] good Will never to be wantinge in any thinge wherin [I maye] plesure you ; neither any thinge I have but to make [accompte] of as of a frendes as you should fynd where [ye have] power accordinge to my hartes desyer towardes you, off whom I dout not the like. As nowe at this [present] tyme. For so yt is that uppon Thursdaye next ye charge [is that I] am to be at Farrington in a redynes with a geldinge. . . . furnished w* a demilance, and nowe am destit[ute so] I am to require you to send back agayne • Originally written — "if Sir Watre Hungerfer my husband were not levyng." Appendix. 257 one of my geldinges by my man who can showe unto you my . . . from the justices. At whose handes I am dryven to crave frendship for want of furnyture. , Wherewith I commyt you to God who [preserve] you with health to yo^ owne desyr. Wrytten in hast this Satterday at night from Lanston Lasby 1569. Yo"^ duryng lyfe, To the right worshipfull Wyllyam Hvde. and my lovynge uncle Mr. William Darrell Esquire. (?) Henry Savyl to same. Y". U? was verye welcome to me, but and, it had pleasid you to have taken the payne to come hyther, ye shuld have been muche more welcome, to me and your frindes. To answer your 1™ in all pointes I will forbeare to do at this tyme, the rather because I meane (God willing) shortly to see you at Lyttlecott, and than wether my interest be suche in yo!" as by humble sute I may intreate yo? take some poyne to travell into the m'ches of Wales. Sir John Smythe (being long lokid for is nowe aryvid in Courte, with what or wherof I cannot as yeat learne). In Frawnce as 9,lso in the lowe countray th' occurences come very slowe, but that they stand in the same tearmes they long have don. I pray nowe onse agayne in steade of the man ye wote of, comend me to the ambelyng mare. And lastly to youselfe a thowsand comendacons. From Richemond the laste of July. Yf man hath robbid hym selfe as he saythe of xxl Y' loving cosiu [Endorsed] and sure frind. To the r' worshipp'.' (?) Henry Savyl. W" Darrell, Esquire at Lyttlecott. E. D. to same. My dearist Cossin I am no les glad too hear of your healthe then I wishe suche menes of well doing as appertan withe [me] to suche a frend as I have found of you for rayn opinyon never stands you in dowght therof ; nor of eny thing towching a mynit of . . . lok in eny mater of yours that I can further, God fayll me when I S 258 Appendix. fayll yow loke strangly I make your bysynis urgent to the world. I thank you for your gentyll leter whiche I mak myself debyte to answer you shall have agen.hers tomoro. This I rest remayning -SIS' for forthe at your commandement as eny servant you have- or as any in the world. God send you my dearist Cossin a long and happi lyf, yor hartes desyr shortly to come to ^z&-Ameny tymes.' Far you well from adventeris. Yours whill I lyve . , Herrik hath veri E. D. muche misusid my Lady in breking promis. [Endorsed] Too the Ryght worshipful her veri good cossin MT Dorell gave this. Regnold Scriven to same. Sr I can not tell what to saye, nor am not able in anye sorte to deserve yoT greate curtesie. I assure you I accompte myselfe rather beholdinge unto you the,n you anie waies unto me ; and therfore am ashamed you shulde be at suche great charge. Howe be it, since it is yoT pleasure, I must take it in suche thankfull maner as I must of necessitie confesse that I knowe not howe to rnake requytall therof, but will kepe it, make accompte of yt for yo' sake while I lyve, and acknowledge my selfe soe farre further beheldinge to you as I doe rest & remayne your poore Kinsman to commaunde while I lyve, as I trust you doe accompte of me & ever shall fynde me. And thus w* my verie hartie commendacions, I comihyt you to God. This xxiij* of June, 1583. Yo' poore kinsman assured "T; [Endorsed] most faythfull To the right worshipfull, Reg. Screven. my verie good cosen, . Mr. William Dorrell Esqf Marmaduke Darell to same. " Sir, The conveniencye of this messenger w* the newes w"?' this- place dothe presentlye yelde ; occasionethe me to trouble yo? w'^ theis- Appendix. 259 few lynes. I double not but w'? yo?, as well as in the contrie here- aboutes ; there hathe bene of late sondrye straunge rumors bruted concerninge the Sco : Queene prisoner here ; w'."" all, as they have bene hitherto untrewe; so now yt is most true, that she hathe endured that fatall stroke this daie, that will excuse her from beinge accessarye to any like maters that may happen henceforthe." " Betwene x and xj of the clocke this present Thursdaie, she was beheaded in the hall of this castle; there being present at y' as ComissionTs, onely the Earle of Shewsburye and the Earle of Kente ; fowre other Earles were joyned w'^ them in the Comission, but came not. The sherive of this shere, Sr Rich : Knightlye, S^ Edwarde Mountague, w* divTs other gentlemen of good accompte, w^er also here at the execucSn. Touchinge the manner of yt, all due order was most carefully observed in yt ; she her selfe endured yt (as wee must all truely sale that were eye wittnesses) w'? great courage, and shewe of magnanimitye, albeit in some other respectes she ended not so well as ys to be wished. The order for her funerall, ys not yet determined uppon; but wilbe very shortlye; as also for her people, who (wee thinke) shalbe safelye conducted to their native contries. Thus have yoV brieflie, that w''.'" wilbe no doubte very shortlie reported unto you more at large. In the meane tyme I beseche yo" accepte in good Jte this small shewe of my duetifuU remembraunce of yoV And so w* my humble cdmendacons I leave yo? to the mercifull ftection of the Almightie. ffrom ffotheringaie castle this viij'^ of ffebruarye 1586." " Yo' poore kinsman to comaunde Mar: Darell." [Endorsed] " To the right woorshipp!' Mr Willm. Darell Esquire at his house at Littlecott." TH^ DARRELL CORRESPONDENCE. 2. Business and LAtv-LExxERS. Edmund Peye to same. Sir,^My nioste hartye commendacions with lyke thankes. I receyved yof letter and so mutche as I can answere I will and the residew I shall God willynge by the nexte. I have putt in a plea by Mr. Fetyplace, counsell for Curre which in the ende wilbe non oye but non culp, wherein he can ayde hymselfe by no means but by yo'. tytle. nore coulde he yf he had pleded his copye as our counsylle sayth for his admyttance was given under my lorde of Rutlandes tytle. Mr. Fetyplace receyved a fee 'T: yett doubles whether he shalbee att the assisses. Yf you would not have yo'J tytle come in questyon in Curres matter it weare good some ende weare therein taken. Johan Povey have answered Reyson but I meane not to replye tyll nexte terme. Stoute hathe an order in the Requestes that you must answere upon yo' alledgeance ; notwithstanding that Mr. Perram and Mr. Penruddock, unknowynge to us, weare there readye and spake verye earnestlye therein for onlye Mr. Sackforde then sat. And to- morrowe the processes go oute agaynst you returnable immediate, but we meane then to cause Mr. Solicitor to move for staye, for meaner menn I perceave will not serve and before that tyme we could not gett We have no answere yet for Stoute thoughe we have called for the same xx'^ tymes but tomorrow I think we shall. You had neede to sende one upp to be here Thursdaye or Friday at the furthest 'S to bring some ... for by reason of this blynde matter in the Requestes I shall suerly lack what may be done theren. And by that tyme your byll in the Dutchye shalbe in. And I will by hym sende you woorde of all thynges in certayne, God wyllynge, -T: howe yor moneye is bestowed. I woulde have yoT man here as I have written because I wolde dispatche hym this weke or the begynyng 260 Appendix. 261 of the nexte I must go downe my selfe. No answere is yett had in my 1. of Northumberlandes matter but by the nexte you shall under- stand all. And towchyng yof we will doo all we maye. I double howanye of us can possible be att yof assisses for my brothers case is to be tryed in Kent and one of myne owne. Wherfore yf it be possible, I wolde you could dispens w! us for this tyme. The Courte is yet at Greenwich and as yett I have not learned when yor assisses be. The matter you wrote of is passed w'^ Mr. Tremoyn whereof Gregory can tell you. And thus in haste I commytt you to God, who alwayes preserve you and yours. Greys Inne This firste of Julye, Yo!' loving cosyn redye at ' Yor commandmente Edmund Peye. [Postscript] My brother woulde have wrytte to you nowe but he meanes to stay tyll the next tyme because he will wryte touchyng the bayle. You maye see howe I spende oute yor moneye and yet yo''. matters worke lyke iron. But God sende me more favourable aspectes. I look by Godes grace that my wyfe shalbe brought a bedd w* in ij weekes. I pray you wryte to me whether yo^ busynesse be sutche that I maye not be bolde to trouble you. Yf it be, I woulde be lothe for so tryfflyng a matter, yf not I wolde w* all in haste. E. P. To the right worshypful Mr. Darell at Littlecote Esquyer his loving cosyn w'!" spede. Anthony Skritt to same. Mr. Darrill, After mayte hartie commendations unto you ; under- standyng by your letter that ye thynke I doe you gret wrong in felyng of my coppises, whereat I marvel much bycaus it is not grantyd upon the leas that you hould by, nor never demanded befor by anie of the farmares which I thinck woUd ye mad som chaleng for it yf this had byn nevar so small a caus. Wharfor I trust you will not offer me wrong in makyng chaleng therunto ; notwithstandyng yf my wod wold dou you plesur or ane frend of yours, I wold be glad to plesur you afor ane other. And wher as you crave to have the mattar stayed tyll our metyng I could be vere glad butt I shall lack 262 Appendix. monne for I am bying of a leas of a farme that I dou now dwel in ; wher for thes ar to desyar you not to hyndar me of that is myne. In the which you shall find find me rede to plesur you in ana thyng I" maye. Thes I leve at thys tym commetyng you to the AUmight who kyp you and me for evar. Your loving frynd to command [Endorsed] Anthony Skritt. To the worshipfull Mr WiHm Darell at Littlecott geve thes. Sir John Popham to same. After my heartie commendacions unto you. Wheras the matter betweene Mr. Stukeley '3; you is by the consent of you bothe referred to Order, I pray you to forbeare to cutt downe any more woode or trees in Axford during suche tyme as the matter dependeth in com- prymys. I was moved herein by Mr. Stewkeley after your departure from me and as the case standeth, I thinke hit verie resonable you yeld unto yt. I mene if God please to be at Salisburie the wekes- daie at night before Easterdaie ; where for divers respectes I would gladlie speake w* you. And thus I bidd you farewell. From Cloford, this iij^.^ daie of Marche 1582. Yor assured good frend Jo. Popham. To the wor My very lovyng frend W. Wylliara Darrell Esqyer Geve these at Lytlecott. Sir John JDanvers to same. I founde Mr. Attorney after his departure from Sarum at Wylton ; where yt pleasid my L. of Pembroke to have some communicacion towchinge you, chardging you with very unthanckfull dealing towardes him. His L. was answerid by us boathe in the best manner we coulde, for your creadytte ; upon the which Mr. Attorney common- ing with me privatlie, willed me to advise you from him (as your frynde) to remaine of a former good mynde towardes my L : and so not to deale with any other touching Axford untill he may agein speake with you. And so would I wysshe you for divers cawses which you shall knowe at my nexte speaking w* you. And for my bargaine from Whytewaye, I see the lykelyhed so ill for me to make a savinge Appendix. 263 bargaine, as I will not troble you any further in ytt. And so with my verie hartie commendacions, I bidd you farewell. From Daunte- ■sey the v'? of Marche 1582. YoT loving frend T: kynnesman, „ , . Jo: Danvers. To the worshipfuU his lovinge kynnesmann Mr. William Darrell Esquier — Deliver theis. William Darrell to Sir John Popham. I receved yof letters dated at Cloforde the iij'^ of Marche by the handes of a Shepherde cominge from the downes by some distaunce from me the vj* day after, but how they came to him nether of himself nor otherwise unto this daye could I well learn, but that of a man unknown they wer receved. Yo^ letters in matter rested on too poyntes. The one that sithence the cause betwyne Stucky and me is reifered to speach yo"; do pray me to forbeare cuttinge downe woudes & trees in Axforde, and was moued therin by Stucley, and do thinck it very resonable I should yelde unto it. Wherat I have and do marvell me much, and am in the same sorely per- plexed, sithence I was not easily drawen to have speach in it, no not althoughe I love yo". and doo reste upon yo" before any other. For I was not then ignoraunt who would stirr, and what would be enterponed. And therefore I receved yof promise not only in this matter, but also in a thing of a seconde degree ; the which I knowe is well w* yo" in good remembraunce, nether was I contented to have it talked of, in that of my libertie I would be abridged nor through forbearinge to have my cause slaundered or by such a surceasinge to give occation of doubtful speach to common people wherby oppinion of the same may be lost. The which is the only thing that in few yeares sute as it I have gayned. Mr. Atturney yo" could not thinck this convenyent. But talkinge of late w'^ Sf John Danvers, o' my God ; he telling me somewhat, I knew therby much, wherof I will expresse nothinge in letters. But what be men, and what minds be in them in thes dayes. Wher is be- come the integrete, clearnes of consciens and vertu that somtyme have bin. I have learned one rule in books from the auncyent fathers, and have found it in experience among'st men; that that day that a man would have another's landes or his goodes, that day he would have his life also if he could. I pray yo^ pray for me, for 264 Appendix. I am at this present in sory case. The rest of yo' letters was that I should meat yo" the Wensday at night before Easter at Sarum : the w* I woulde willingly doo but the yll affection of my health at this present doth inforce me to pray yo" to hold me excused. And at London shortely or when yo"^ will yo*; shall have [me] to attende yo\ and, with reason, to leade me '\ cary whether yo" will I found by Sir John Danvers that I was beholding to you also of late. Amyddest the wilfullnes of other men's speaches I have bynn alwayes beholding to yo". I am indebted to yo", and as I do acknowledge it so am ready to satisffie for it. And as I have receaved the one, so am ready to acquitt my selfe in the other. And so w'!' my harty comendations I bidd yo" fare-well. At my pour hous at lytellcot the 27* of marche 1583. Yo^ loving and assured frind W. Darell. To the right worshipful my loving frind M' Popham, Atturney General geve thes. Sir John Popham to William Darrell. Mr. Darrell, wheras you wryte to me that (as I tak hyt) you marveled I shold be off opinion hyt were convenyent you shold for- beare the fellyng of woodes dependyng the comprymyse ; trewly I was and am of that opynyon and so wold you be also yf the case were tried that the possessyon were off the othersyd. And the rather I am so induced, for that yf hys counsell hadd well loked unto hyt, I thynke they myght have restreyned you therof by the lawe. And wheras I gather by yo' letter yo" wryte that you dydd not thus conceave of me, when you coraytted hit unto me. I assure you that neyther yo? selff nor any man else shall justly charg me w* any abuse off any thyng comytted to me. And yet in thys and in all other [I] may, and wyll move that w".*" shalbe [hereto] con- venyent and resonable. And touchyng yoT beyng here, hyt was but to have conferred w* you in a poynt that concemyd the whole success of yo' cause to have been armed for hyt w* beyng sent by me (I protest before God) for yo^ most good, I cannot gather by the doubtfulnes of yor letter what plesyr you had conceaved off hyt. I never yet deserted any and I wyl not now begyn w* you. I thinke you have hadd better proff [of] me. And so w'? my herty Appendix. 265 comendacyons do corny tt you to God. At Sarum, the xxviij* of marche 1583. Y"."' loving frend „ , To. POPHAM. To the w"."- Mr. Wyll"? Darrell Esq--? geve these. Thomas Sclatter to saine. Right worshipful], my bounden dewtie most humbly remembred. I have disposed of the money you sent accordinge to your letters. Mr Maunsell and Mr Legatt send you harty thankes for their bacon, and Mistris Maunsell for her Angell, w* shee was very lothe to have receyued, but would rather have delivered yt back aga'ine, as not willinge to charge you so fur in any thinge. Mr. Legatt is a sorowfull man for that his wyfe is extreme sick. Mr. Bridges sendes you harty commendacions, and Mr. Churchyard likewyse, who came hither yesterday from my Lordes. Touchinge the matter w'.'' Barnard there hath not hitherto nor yet can be any thinge done therein. The man is not yet come home nor by any meanes to be found or heard of althoughe the matter hath byn handled by diverse of his very frindes and suche as deale for hym. The cc'.' was brought to Mr. Attorneys howse the same day you defted in thaftemone But he would not take the charge or kepinge thereof. So Mr. Bridges was fayne to bringe yt back where yt was before and where yt nowe remayneth. Yt is certeyne that Mr. Attorney hath sithence talked w* my lord Anderson in the matter, who is ready to do any thinge he lawfully may therein. Mr. Reynoldes thinketh there wilbe a write of Error had and thereupon a super- sedeas de non molestando, the cc'i beigne lefte in safe kepinge where my Lord shall appoint whereupon there is an Attorney reteyned to procead for gettihge out of the same writes w"? I think had byn done before this tyme but that Mr. Bridges wanted money. And whether he hath yet sufficient to go throughe w* yt I stand doubtful!, the charge thereof amountinge to about xll Mr. Spen- cer's man was here on Fryday last sayinge that his Mr had sent hym to be a meane to Barnard for thendinge of Mr. Bridges matter. And goinge to the howse and not fyndinge Barnard at home rode back to his Mr and appointed to be here againe as yesterday, at w^."" tyme Preston tolde hym he thought Barnard would be at home. But neither thone nor thother is yet returned that wee heare of. 266 Appendix. Yt is verely thought that the matter resteth as yt doth for that Mr. Spencer hath not compounded for his parte Mr. Bridges willeth to stay w* hym yet twoo or three dayes, to see what wilbe yet done either in compoundinge for the matter or suinge fourthe these writtes for stay of thexecucion At w^J' tyme he sayeth he will come downe hymselfe. I have delyvered to Mr. Scryven the writinge you lefte for hym and have receyved a bond touchinge the same. And have likewyse receyved of hym twoo subpenas against Reves. Mr. Harris telleth me that he had dealt in a matter w* my lord of Shrewsbury and appointed to be w* you about the same on the morrowe after yor departure. Of certayne newes I heare none ; but yt is sayed that my L. of Buckhurst goeth over the seas, whether into the Lowe countres or as embassador into Fraunce yt is uncertayn. Yt is also reported that Mr. Gary my L. Hunsdon's sonne beinge sent embassador into Scotland, can have no audience nor safe con- ducte there. Some say that ST Fraunces Drake goeth to the seas w* an army of thirty thousand ; and that there goeth into the northe partes the like army, the like into Ireland and the like into the lowe countries w"? will amount in the whole to sixescore thousand men. Others also affirme that my L. of Leicester shortly returneth into the Lowe countries. I have also heard that there wer sixe or seven of the lower house of Parliament about sevennight sithence committed to the tower. The Parliament yt is thought will end about fryday next. I shall receyve letters from Mr. Scryven at my comminge downe. I will not fayle to be at home on Saterday or Sunday at the farthest or soner yf conveniently I may. And will in the meane tyme do the uttermost I may in Barnardes matter (God willinge). I have also receyved of Mr. Scryven the lease of Balsdon graunted to hym w,'." I will bringe downe w* me, and th other thinges I receyved from Mr. Maunsell and Mr. Legatt. Thus humbly I take my leave. London, this xiiij'^ of Marche 1586. Y".' woT most bounden and faithfull servant Thomas Sclatter. [Endorsed] To the right worshipfuU his assured good W. Mr William Darell Esquier at his house Littlecott Appendix. 267 Anthony Hinton to same. Worshipful! Understanding you have displeasure against me as y^ hath well appered in sundrye attemptes you have of late made to have displesured me, grounding yo^ quarell upon certen wordes w'? Mr Cawlye as you sayd spake unto you reportyng me to be the occa- sion you weare indited at Marleborrough at Michaehnas well twelve moneth w".'' he doth utterly denye that ever he spake those or the like wordes unto you '\ oifer himselfe to be sworne that he ys greatly abused ^ wronged by you in that as ys may appere unto you by his note made therof w^J' I have sent you whereto he hath putte his hande ; but whether he abused or no I am suer I am abused in y' '\ as gyltlesse of yt as the furthest man in the wordle ys gyltlesse of yt ■T: knew no more that you shold be indited ther then I knew or thought myselfe to be indited there. I litle loked for suche harde deahnges at y^ handes as of late hath ben offered ; yf ever I dyd, you any plesure in lonyng you mony or borowing for you when I hed yt not myselfe "H; payd yt agayne when you have broken day of myne owne purse to kepe my credit (w"? I love as my lyfe) I am very evell requited ; yf I have traveled in any cause of yo"'? T: done yt honestly ^ faythfuUy I am evell repayd w'^ those yo' hard offers of dealing towardes me in w''.'' yt may plese you to precede at yoT liking. I am gyltlesse of these accusacions. Yo^ poore neghbour [Endorsed] Anthony Hinton To the right worshipful W. William Darell at Litelcote geve these [Receyved this letter the xvj* of January 1588] [Inclosure] Whereas Mr WiUiam Darell reporteth that I Michaell Cawley have sayed unto him that my Cosen Anthony Hinton was the onlye occasion of the bill of inditement preferred againste him at the Sessions at Marleboroughe, holden there in October laste was twelve moneth, I utterlie denye that I ever spake those or the like wordes unto him or that he was any doer against him in the matter at the same sessions — And I do protest that I am unjustlie accused there- of w'^> I wel be redie to averre at all tymes Aud do thincke my self greatlie wronged therein — Michaell Cawlky. 268 Appendix. William Darrell to Anthony Hinton. Yof letters make mencion that you understand I beare you dis- pleasure, and that yt hath appeared by sundry attemptes of myne of late, groundinge my quarell upon wordes of Cawley who doth utterly deny yt. Verily I have heard by a longe tyme you have not byn well, but so farr to be distempered, as by y"" letter appeareth I knewe not. That you were the author of all ill attempts and seciett workinges of all which I knewe nothinge before the receipt of those letteres. Yf you had expressed those attempts, the matter would appear the playner — for sure I am you have uttered as focilishe as that — That you had byn run into any suche distemperature and unseasonable- ness I would not have thought yt, had not your owne letters ex- pressed yt. That maketh me also to knowe that Cawley's advertise- mentes were not altogether wi'i'out matter & truthe; that shewed jne that you were one that envied ftie, and other [ever] watchinge to do harme when occasion should rise. That you were the setter on of the tenants of Chilton in all their pretended villanies. This can foure persons witnes, honester men then he. But in the latter parte of yof letters — very excellent in yt selfe — you say — very magnifically — that you did little looke for suche hard dealinge at my handes. I pray where dwell you or what parents came you from, or howe comyth yt about that there is nothinge but hard dealinge in yo' mouthe. Yf you have lent me money at any tyme — as yoT letters mention, which hath not byn past twise, once xx'.' and another x" another tyme I rember you would ; and in faith I never sent to you for yt nor neded yt not, which love of yours was allwayes upon good pawne of plate, and not above three monethes or sixe. But nowe you have upbrayded me w' yt I trust you have your peni- worthes and are satisfied. Yf not send me somuche plate, and I will lend you somuche money as ever you lent me and twise, as longe : and then are you double aunswered upon that point. In that you say I brake day w'!" you, I cannot forbeare you, for playnly T: truly you do lye in yt, and lyinge in a miser is a miserable thinge. But yt is allways proper to base condicions. And further in your letters you say that yf you have honestly 1 faithfully travelled in my causes, you are ill repayed w* hard dealynge. What cause of myne that you should be so traveled in, and so mightie in remembraunce wt you, I cannot gesse. But sure I am that I have in many thinges borne w* you, and sufTred harmes 1 losses by you, and used you allwayes better then belonged to your condicion. But I will mend Appendix. 269 yt and procead in truth as I think good; gevinge you withall to understand that I am not he that is in error or hathe not what to foUowe. And this for aunswere to your letters written for some devise. He that for all yof secreat envy and private malice must lyvee by you. [D^aft] W. D. Same to the Justices of the Division. Right Worshipfull after my hartie commendacions, thes may be to advertise yo", that the xiiijth daie of September last (being Sondaie) ther came to my house a man of the retynew of W. Wroughton (they call him Powell), who desiring to speake w'. me, gave great causes of quarrell, And (shewing in himself a malicious hart towardes me) although his mydemeaner was not tollerable, yet was he suffered quietlie to depart. Over & beside the forsaid W. Wroughton hath gotten together other of the like faction, and he and his complices hath done actes of great force, to the great dysquieting of the Queues mat^.** peace, & to the lewde & f vers example of other in chasing now thes, now thos, not suffring men peceablie to passe on the Quenes highe waie, NO, not to be in their houses w'out assaulting and hurting. Yf thes Cattelyn parttes (right worshipful & indifferent frindes) be suffered, so put up, and go unpunysshed ; to what end they will come, neither cann I gesse, nor yo" very well tell. Ye may thinke that either Envy or tymerousnes, causeth me to writ, but therin may ye err for not Envy, ne tymerousnes, but sorow to have other so handled, & quietnes for myne owne parte, being doubtful of thende hath caused me to writ. ?haps ye will sey I may have the peace, if any thing I doubt surelie that may not I safelie do, no, nor will not ; but if yoT aucthoritie & willing peceable myndes will no farther stretch towardes the reprehending of this mannes unshame- fast demeaner, one onlie thing have I for myself, that I have written to yo", let thend be such as fortune then hath willed I protest to yo" here by my ires that neither I, nor any of myne will or meane, to have any thing to do w' the said Mr. Wroughton, or any his com- plices. Ye[t] if swelling pride, envy, or dysdayne sholde cause them to follow their accustomed demeaner, so that we must of force be dryven to defend of selves ; we wold be also hartelie sory therefore too. And herof I shall desire you all be witnes, what tumults, what byckeringes this man w' the other fensors of his sect hath of late 2 70 Appendix. stired & caused, & dailie goeth about to stire. I nede not to writj for ye cannot be of this countie & straungers in thes causes. Should I writ' the cause why this man wt the rest of his evill disposed fellowes hang on Mr. Wroughton. No, I may not ! They are of yof famelie (M' Barwick) & you know not thes thinges ! Yt may be you know them & cannot redres them ; & perhaps they hiring sorrow to your hart therfore. I certainlie know yor meaning to be good by olde proofe therof. I onlie wish thes people to be reformed. And he that saw Powelles behavioT to me, I have sent him w! my letteres to make report therof, and if nede be to be sworen theron. And this fare ye well. From Lyttlecot, the second of October [1588]. your lovinge frind W. Darrell. To the right worshipfuU & his loving frindes John Seynt John, John Ernly, John Barwick, & Richard Kyngesmyll Esquiers, geve thes. Same to Regnold, Scriven. Cosin Scriven. My helth not so well serving me as it hath downe, wherby I cannot visyte frindes nor followe my bussynes as heareto- fore, I am dryven oftner to letters to acquitte me in the one and to expresse and serve me in th'other then willingly I would. My cosin this the lyife we have in this worldell is shorte and to the happyest somwhat of troublus. But to the afflycted what it is of infelycitie, none but th'aiflycted only can therin justly speake. To ease the liffe of man hear, though nothinge cann mak it justly pleasant, I finde that fryndes do wourk much therin; and frinds or gotten, bound, and kepte by bloudd or desert, deserte I tak not too for the least. Myselfe a man much of infortunyte though to many that as right goos neare in bloudd ; and to som have also nof deserved amisse ; and could not have lyved too but to som have byne right good. Yeat have I not receaved that in clearnes at any tyme of any one that myght justly bynde me. But whether destinye, chaunce that is that they call fortune, or my debylytie, neglygences, or yll deservinge lieth cause ; unto this day as a man troubled and therby of noo good judgement, I would not deserve. I will thefore at this tyme call to memory the good things I have receved and not requitted, and after I will offer my selfe as one that contynely had ever a raynde to requitt all thinges to mak satisfaction for the ,same. Appendix. 271 and so farr therin to fceade that it may serve to hearafter for in- different frindshipp in thinges well compounded, and for reasonable favour in reasonable causes that maye be. My Lord whom yo"? under- stand I love, and have doun before all others nor any was more glader not the nearest in bloudd to him of his advauncement then I was ; when he was solyciter he certeynly was, and I may yet seye it, my good frind and I stoude a barren lover only for it. I receaved many benifits of him. I hadd many tyme counsel and paid nothing I hadd secreatly advice of him w'."" was ... I hadd many favours as his letters '\ requestes tendinge to my ffytt & that I myght not even heare sey too that he hadd binn my good Lord. . . . But for that I may not be ungrateful for things passed And to have him my good and Indyfferent Lorde if it may be, I pray yo" move, and as yo" may, lett fall in substaunce this. I have a maner standinge in good sorte w'^ one of the Realme of ;^30o by the yeare in every condition wel to be liked. This will I convey to my Lorde And mr. Harry Bromley that hath maryed my kinswoman & to his eyers in such sorte as I now have it of that valewe if I dy w^out heyer male of my body begotten. And that this I will do I do not sett it downe only in letter but I will also enter into covenant or be bound in statute of VI" for the doinge of it, w* this conditen added to it more ; that if I fortune to have eyer of my body Then shall my Lord have on M merkes payd him or his w'Hn thre yeares after or ells shall he or his have so muche payde after my death w'Hn one year as from a frind ; this in choyse. To this what is said and how it is taken I would gladly knowe, my health not being good I myght know him for my frind to my Com- fort. And as you ar my Cosyn so do I take a portion in you and do mak bold if you fynd it, that in me and myne shall alwayes be a parte for you. With my commendations I do also pray you that as you may, I may hear from you. At my lodginge, the xvij* of June 1583, Yo'' loving cosin & frind. W. Darell. To my lovinge cosin & assured frind Mr. Reynold Scriven geve thes. 272 Appendix. Jo. Amyas to William Darrell. Sr I have largelie disco'sed w* MT Secretary of the matters that have passed betweene yo" and me : he is willinge and desirous to conferr w* yo" therin w'^ what speade yo" may, and after suche con- ferrence will direct of a co''se to be holden therin and put in execution betweene this and Michelmas for some good proportion of these parties. His honof nowe beinge at Barne Elmes, in some phisicke or other observacons for his healthe, contynueth there till thursdaie be past Yf yo" can (w* any convenience) be heare on Thursdaie or before, I shall staie so longe, and on Fryday morninge I will goe w* yo" to Barne Elmes, wheare a determynacon shalbe sett downe. If this yo" cannot jforme, then at yo' best oportunytie w* what speade ye may, yo" shall doe well to Jforme this jo''ney, and thoughe I be absent, yet (if any co''se be agreed upon wherin my service shalbe holden neadefull) I will upon a fortnightes warniiige repaire into any those parties to doe ought that by comission, or private vewe and inquisition shalbe thought requisyte (in this I will expect yor answ^ by Thursdaye night, and for the good acceptacon of that yo" shall doe herin yo" shall neither doubt of his honorable favo^ and coun- tenace neither of thankfull gratiffication to y™ full contentm' Even so w* hartie salutacons and thankes &c I recomende yo" to the grace of God. ffrom Mydle Temple the xvij"' of Julye. Y" assured frend to use Jo: Amyas, [Endorsed] To the right wo'ship'.' Mr Willm Dorrell Esquire w* speade. Sir Francis Walsingham to same. Sr I comend me verie heartely unto yo", and calling to mynd yo' gentlman like offer made to me of late to serve her ma" in case of necessitie w* 20"? men furnished, besides those otherwise charged uppon yo". in the shire I have at this jsent thought meete to wishe yo" yo' self to com upp hither to me, and I will mak her mat'.' aqainted w'? that yo' comendable and voluntarie offer, wherby yo" shall boath have accesse, & receave suche thankes as afteyneth at her mat^ hand. Yo" shall not neede to stay at yor coming at all. In the mean tyme I have sent yo" suche newes of the Spanishe fieete as is newly com to the Court. And even soe wishing yo" to be in readines Appendix. 273 w* that yoV are hable to doe. I bidd yoV heartely farewell. Fro the Court this 23* July 1588. YoT assured loving frend [Endorsed] Fea: Walsyngham. To my verie loving frend Witim Darrell Esq'. Same to same. After my hartie edmendations. I have receaved yoT ire of the xxvj"" of this jfnt for whiche I doe thancke you, '\ for answeare you may understand that trewe it is that Mr. Knevitt was sent to his brother Sir Henrie with such ires from som of my Its here (the rest beying then absent) as the copie of Sf Henries ire to the Justices of yor Shire (w* you sent mee) dothe import. And the trust reposed in Sr Henrie Knevitt by their iis sayd Ires groweth partly of some speciall recomendation of his to hir Mati^ by the Erie of Pembrooke of late for his sufficiencie '\ forwardnesse in the marshall services of yor countie. My advise therfore unto you is, that for the 3000 footemen required oute of yoT whole shyre you have in a readinesse at the place and tyme appoynted by Sr Henrie Knevits ires to the justices, so manie as shall appertayne to yor circuite as a justice of that countie. And towching suche horsse w* men '\ their furniture as you are able to sett forthe, I doe wishe you made them fntly readie and that you send them hither yf possibly you can by Thursday next to attend here neere the court on hir Mati'.^. Json what tyme I will not fayle to lett hir Mati^ understand both what nomber of horsemen 1 howe well furnished you have sent to wayte on hir. As for myself yf you only send mee one serviceable horsse, I shall accept the same in good part at yo' hands. And thus I comitt you to God. ffrom the Court the xxvj* of Julye 1588. Yof assured loving frend Fra: Walsyngham. [Endorsed] To the right worshipfull my loving frend MT Wiim Darell Esq' 2 74 Appendix. Mr Wttm Dorell Esquire After my hartie comendations. I doe hartely thanck you for the care '\ goodwill you have' to helpe furnishe my Cornett. I have written to such effect as you may see to the Deputie Lieutenants of yor shire to bee content only w"" twoe horsemen furnished by you that the rest may with yoT selfe mak yof repaire presently unto me who mynd to receave you into my Jtection ^ service. ■ And so comitt you to God. From the Court the xxix* of July 1588. Yor loving frend, [Endorsed] Era : Walsingham. To my loving frend MT Witim Darell Esqr \Inclosure.'\ After my hartie comendations. Beeyng as this fht tyme requireth verie desyrouse to erect a cornett of horsses to attend uppon hir Mat!° at and neere the Court T: beeyng upon this sodayne occasion not so well furnished of men "T; horsse for this purpose as I wyshe amongst other gentlemen '^l persons to furnishe my cornett I have made choyce of Mr Wittm Darrell of yor countie to serve mee per- sonally w* as maiiie horsses as he cpiiveiiiehtly maye, wherof I thought good not only to gyve you notice, but also verie earnestly in this respect to pray yoii besydes such footemen as he is appoynted to furnish in that shyre you would accept ^ tak only twoe horsse w* their men furnished because my selfe have '-i shall use bothe him "^ the rest of his horsses for my sayd cornett. Herein I trust you will make no difficultie consideryng that whatsoever he furnishe in horsse or man there in the contrie or here above w* '\ under mee is for hir mat*' service, T; that he doth under mee so much the more necessarie because it serveth for thfe defence of hir ma'!*? f son more neerly. And thus I coinend you hartely to God. From the Court thexxix^of July 1588. YoT loving frend Fr. W. The Deputie Lieutenants of Wiltshire Same to same. Sr. Since dinner I receaved yor ire. written yesterday for w''.'' and for the horsses you have prepared to serve hir ma".° in niy band I doe thincke my selfe more behoulding to you than I will expresse, and Appendix. 275 assure yo5selfe as occasion may bee offredmee I will not only lett hir Ma".= for yor good and comfort understand the readinesse and furni- ture you weare nowe in for hir service : but also at all tymes to the best of my power in anie yor cawses studie howe to requitt this good- will of yo'5 towards mee so effectually nowe declared. Towching yof desyre to knowe where '^ howe yoT horsses shall bee disposed, you may understand that since I receaved yof tre order IS given to the counties abroade from my lis here for the staye of the forces nowe comyng owt of the same hitherwards, becawse (God bee thancked) the successe of hir Ma'? service at the sea is suche that wee are in good hope to stand in no need of land service. Howbeit the stay of theise forces is such that they may bee in readinesse uppon anie sodayne or short warnyng againe to bee given them. And therfore I pray you not to fceed further hitherwards but to returne home w"* yor horses and there so to dispose of them w'!" best charges to yor selfe, as yf wee have anie newe alarme given us here, I may uppon newe warnyng given you have them readie. And thus I comend you hartely to God. From the Court the thyrd of August 1588. Yor assured loving frend, Mr Witim Darell. Fra. Walsyngham. [Endorsed] To my Verie loving frend Mf Wiltm Darell Esq-;' Same to same. Sr, I have by this bearer yor servant receaved yor present of partridg and other ffowle, and by my servant Fraunces Mylles tres from you understand yoT goodwill in wishing Greenes Norton unto mee : for w'='' I yeald you thanckes, but see no greet hope of so good a matter to fall uppon mee. In yor particular affaires I hope as occasion slialbe offred you will not spare mee, wherein I shall allwayes be glad to doe you the best pleasure I can. And so comitt you to God. From the Savoy the xj* of Sept 1588. Ypr assured loving frend, [Endorsed] Fra: Walsingham. To my verie loving frend Mf Willm Darell EsqT 276 Appendix. Same to same. Sf I thanke you for your kynd and lyberall offer. I woold. fyrst be glad to deserve, befor the yelding to accept any thing from you. I do assure you the pyttye I have of yovr oppressyons movethe me to doe for you what I may and not any regard of benefit as you shall herafter more at large understand by my servant Stubbs. And so in the mean tyme I coiiiyt you to the protectyon of the Almyghtye. At Barnes the x* of Maye 1589. Yr assured frend, Fra : Walsingham. I can not but advyce you to staye all proceadinges ageyst Sir Tho : Wrowghton's men for that 1 am in hope to end all contrevarsyis between you. I wyll use your letter w' all secreacye. [Endorsed] To my verie loving frend Mr William Darrell. 5t H. Knevette letter {copy). So yt is that upon Tuesday night last very late her Ma"." and my lords of ye privie Councell sent my brother Thomas Knevett unto me at my house in St James fke in Westm. straytly comaundinge me w"* all possible speed to hast me into the cuntry w* all possible speed where I should meet w'^ Ires from them w* should throughly directe me in their will and pleasure. And because I understood from them by worde of mouthe that yt was principally to bringe upp twoo thowsand footemen armed out of of shire w'? all hast that might be to attend her ma'? Json I thought yt good to lett you understand thereof in any wayes, In her ma'? name hearnestly requiringe you to see forthw'^ all souldiers w'^in yor division in p''sent readines to attend their captaynes thorowly furnisshed in manner followinge at Marlebroughe upon Sunday at afternone at the furthest yf they here no word to the contrary by the said captaynes, for that I think the fittest place of meetinge Itm. that they may be clenely armed w"" their weapons fully furnisshed Itm. that there be levyed for the conducte of ev^y souldier vi= viij'* the same to be brought to Male- broughe aforesaid by the constables of the hundred of ev'y division at the tyme assigned. For cote money I can say little to yt Itm. that there be Jvided for evry calyver shott iij poundes of powder at the Appendix. 277 least or so muche money as wiU byy the same after xiij" the pound w"^!" I like better because they shall not spoile yt by the way. And three score buUettes at the least. And for ev^y muskett iiij" of powder or money for the same and fiftie bullettes. And for the more expedicon of this s"'vice I pray you fayle not to send this ire fourth w* you kepinge the double thereof to Mr Brunter, Sr James Marvyn, and Mf Penruddock, and the rest of the Justices of that parte of the shire, whereby I do in hke manner require them to see the contentes of the same furnished on their behalfes. The tenor thereof I hope they will accept, my hast considered. The rest of the Justices from Sr Edw. Baynton, Northwardes, I will hereof advertise upon ray comminge home. And so in haste I hartely betake you to God, and salute you all. At Newbery, this xxv'" of July [1588] at twoo of the clock after midnight. Yo" assured in all power, H. Knevett. William Rede to Miles Sandys. sr, So it is that at Mr Attornies last beinge in Wilteshire, at a place called Littlecot, sometyme belonginge to Mr Willm Darrell Esquier deceased, but nowe to Mr Attorney, my happe was in the absence of Mr Attornie upon the deth of Mr Darrell together all suche evidences as was in the house of Littlecote into my possession to Mr Attornies use. And since that tyme it dothe appeare that Sr Fraunces Wal- singham dothe pretend title to some or other of the landes of the said Mr Darrell wherof no parte dothe appertaine to Mr Attornie. And that the evydences aswell concerninge that which Mr Attornie is to have in righte 1: dothe enjoye, as also these landes that Sr Frances Walsingham dothe pretend title unto, did remaine in the house of Littlecott at the tyme of Mr Darrell's decease which evidences are conveyed to London, already in greate chestes. But the keys of these chestes were lefte withe me, aswell by Mr Atomic, as by one Mr Stubbes gent, that was appointed in the behaulfe of Sr Fraunces Walsingham saffiie T: indififerentlie to be kepte tyl the tyme should be appointed, by Mr Secretarye that the chestes should be opened '\ the evidences perused, aswell for Mr Secretorye as for Mr Attornie. Since which tyme I have receaved letters from Mr Attornie, that Mr Secretoryes pleasure is with the assent of Mr Attornie, to have the evidences perused with all spede. And for as much as I shall not have occasion to be at London these sixe or 278 Appendix. seaven daies, Mr Attorney hath craved me to send the said keyes forthwith enclosed in my letters to some gentleman of the benche of the Middle Temple whereby they maye be hadd with some spede to perfourme Mr Secretoryes expectacion. Amongest the which I have made choyse of you for that you are Mr Attornies frend 'T: myne also Desiringe you to acquaint Mr Attornie therewith '\ that then the same maye be safHie delyvered, according to the trust to me comitted — And so with my hartie comendacions, your helth wished, I com- mitt you to the government of the Almightie. From Chisburie the xxj"" of October 1589. Yor frynd assuryd, [Endorsed] William Redk To the Ryght worshipfuU Myles Sandys Esquyar at his chambers in the Middell Temple yn London Geve thes * • This letter and some others which appear here were printed in the Wilts ' Archseologia," in 1859, by the late Chas. Lijng, Esq., to whom they were communicated by the Deputy Keeper of the Public Records. INDEX Alborne, Farm of, 240. „ Chace, 240, 241. ,, Wastes, 241. Alborough, Boro' of, 179. Alehouses {see Taverns), 80, 85. Alehouses, Table of, 163. Almain Mercenaries, 59. Alston Sutton, Hard Case of the Ten- ant of, 30, 31. Amorous Leynes, 233. Amorous Pasture, 233. Amyas, Jo., 272. Anderson, Lord Chief Justice, 265. Antwerp, 48, 52, 59, 60, 61, 64, 65,66, 67, 70, 160. Appleford, Stephen, 251, 252. Arde, l88. Arden, Mr., 180. Armada, 98, 272, 277. Arundel, Lord, 181. Ascough, Francis, 56. Askow, Henry, 56. Astrophel and Stella, Sonnet, 91. ,, Allusions to, 165, 166, 167. Atkynson, Agnes, 192. ,, Katheryn, 192. Attorney General (see Popham, Sir John). Audely, James, Lord, 187. Ave Maria Lane, 99. Axford, Manor of, 9, 10, 21, 22, 23, 24, 194, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201, 203, 234, 238, 251, 2S2, 262, 263. Axford, Manor of, Account of Produce, 22. Axford, Manor of. Employment and Price of Labour, 22, 23. Axford Manor, Tithes and Taxes on, 23. Aylmer, Dr., Bishop of London, 170. Babington, Anthony, Conspiracy of, 146. Babington Uriah, 124, 125, 128, 129, 17s, 176, 181. Babington, Uriah, Widow of, 124, 125. Bacon, Sir Francis, 124, 125, 128. „ Sir Nicholas, 169, 172, 174, 176. Bacten, 158. Baeshe, Alexander, 122, 174. ,, Edward, 120, 121, 122, 173, 174. Baeshe, Edward, Widow of, 121. ,, Materials for the Offi- cial Life of, 173, 174. Baeshe, Richard, 174. „ Thomas, 174. Bagley, Manor of, 192, 194, 195. Balletts, Mr., 205, 211. Balston, Manor of, 192, 194, 195, 196, 198, 266. Banbury, William, 1st Earl of, 95. ,, Peerage of, 169. Barnards, 265, 266. Barn Elms, 98, 202, 206, 272, 276. Barwick, John, 193, 237, 270. 28o Index. Bath and Wells, Diocese of, 246. Bayer, Francis, 54. Baynton, Sir Edward, 277. „ Family of, 16. Beamond, Mr., 20. Beauchamp, Edward, Lord, 94, 96, 164. Beecher, Case of, against Babington, 124. Beere's Inn, igo. Belfast, Artliur Chichester, Baron of, 128. Bell Inn, 77, loi, 207. Belper, 19. Berkshire, 9, 163, 190, 194, 195, 197, 233. 234, 235. 241- Berwick, 74. Bewdley, Manor of, 194, 195. Bewyke-in-HoIderness, 193. Bigges, Mr., 208. „ Mistress, 209. Bingley, Sir John, 124. Bishops, Latimer's opinion of, 169, 170. Bishopstowe, 233. Blackston, John, 171. Blackwall, Margaret, in. „ Richard, in. telagdon, 189, Blount, Sir Christopher, 92, 95. „ „ and Dame Let- tice, 92, 169. Blount, Family of, 142. Blunt, Chas., Lord, Mountjoy, 95. „ „ Earl of Devon, 95. Boleyn, Anne, 95, 164. ,, Mary, 164. „ Sir Thos., 1 64. Bordeaux, 77. Bordman, John, 21, 25, 198, 199, 200, 204, 205. Borough, Capt., 181. Borrowdale, Customs of, 33, 154. Boston, 163. Boyne, 128. Bracebridge, Anticle, 141, 177. „ Anthony, 176, 177. „ Elizabeth, 176. Bracebridge, John, 176, 177. » Joyce, 176. „ Margery, 138. „ Prudence, 177. „ Richard, 177. ,, Simon, 176. „ Thomas, 138, 139, 140, 141, 176, 177. Bracebridge, Thomas, the Younger, 139, 140, 141, 176, 177. Bracebridge, William, 138, 139, 176. „ Family of, 16, 138, 139, 140, 176. Bracebridge Hall, 138. Bracebridge, Table of Family Litiga- tion, 176, 177. Bramble-tye, 172. Brandon, Mary, 94. Bray, Sir Edward, 137. „ Family of, 16. Bridges, Mr., 265, 266. Bridgis, Mr. Antony, 249. Bright, J., 241. Brille, 176. Briskett, Mr., 207. Bristol, 126, 144. Bristowe, John, 204. Bromley, Harry, 271. „ Robert, 124, 129, 175, 176. „ Sir Thomas, 97. Brouncker, Sir Henry, 128. „ Mr., 207, 277. Brown, Valentine, 121. ,, Mr., 207. Brugys, Sir Egidius, iSg. „ John, 189. Bryanstone, 96. Brydges, Sir J., 193. Buckhurst, Lord, 99, 238, 266. Bucks, 157, 163. Buppell, Elizabeth, 243. Burbage, Savage, 236, 237. Burche, J., 241. Burghley, William Cecil, Lord, 60, 6l, 62, 63, 6S, 68, 71, 1,10, III, 112, 121. Butler, Nicholas, Esq., 153. Butolf Lane, 54, 53. Index, 281 Byron, Family of, 16. Caborne, Manor of, 156. Caesar, Sir Julius, 124. Calehill, Darrells of, 187. „ Manor of, 185, 186, 187. Caike, Henry, 158. „ Thomas, 158. „ William, 158. Calston, Elizabeth, 186. ,, Thomas, 186. ,, Manor of, 185, 186. Cambridge, 163. Cambridgeshire, 29. Cambridge University, 112. Canterbury, 80, 81, 163. „ Archbishop of, 187. Carewe, Mr., Family of, 123. Carey, Edward, .124, 128. ,, Sir Edward, 123, 131. ,, Sir George, 122, 123, 124, 125, 128, 129, 130, 131, 174, 175. Carey, Sir George, Materials for the Official Life of, 174, 175. Carey, Henry, Baron Hunsdon, 27, 28. ,, Katherine, 164. ,, Lady Lettice, 123, 124. ,, Mr., 266. „ Robert, 122. ,, Thomas, 122. „ Sir William, 122. ,, William, 164. „ Family of, 122, 124, 131. Carter^ Nicholas, 196. ,, Thomas, 192. Castell Inn, 83, 84. Cater, Mr., 249, 250. Catherine Howard, Queen of England, 190. Catholic Peers, Estates of, Prospected on, 61, Caulfield, Sir Tobias, 128. Cave, Mistress Margery, 139. „ Sir Ambrose, 139, 140, 176. Cawley, Michael, 208,-209, 234, 267, 268. Cecil, Master Thomas, 60. Chancery, Influence of the, 133, 134. Chapels of Ease, Use and Abuse of, 172. Chattels, Inventory of {^ee Inventories). Chatillon, Cardinal, 61. Chelmsford, 40. Cheney, Anne, 194. „ Mr., 241. , „ Robert, 204. Chepe, 82. Chester, 85, 123, 126, 163, Chichely, Thomas, 83, 84. „ Thomas the Younger, 84. Chichester, Sir Arthur, 128. Chilton Folyat, S, 94, 122, 142, 188, 189, 190, 192, 194, 198, 208, 233 268. Chilton Park, 5, 189. Chisburie, 278. Churchill, Mr., 208. Churchyard, Mr., 265. Cinque Ports, 163. Clanricarde, Earl of, 128. Cleek, Alice, 243. Cloford, 262. Clyfford, Henry, 193. Cobham, Lord, 99. Coketrills, 233. Cokrells, 57. Colbrok, 255. Collier, Mr., 208, 209. CoUye, Roger, 233. Combe, Manor of, 192, 194, 195, 196. Common Law, Influence of, 133. Common Pleas, Court of, 133, 141. Compton, Manor of, 192, 194, 195, 196. Conisboro', Manor of, 27. Constable, Sir Ralph, 128. Conway, Sir Fulk, 128. Cook, Harry, 204, 208. „ J., 206, 208. Coole, Messrs., 180. Corbet Family, 16. Cornelius the Gardiner, 11, 204, 211. ,, the Tailor, lOl, 209, 210, 282 Index. Cornwall, 74, 163. Cosonary, Manor of, 29. Cotton, Mary, 53. Councils of the West and North, 133. Coiirving, Sir John, 180. Courts of the Manor, 17. Court Rolls, disputed possession of, 28. Court Rolls, records of . tenants' claims, 33. Coventry, 138. Cox, Ambrose, 159. „ Avyes, 159. „ Mr., 157. „ Mistress, 112, 115. „ Dr. Richard, Bishop of Ely, 108, 109, no. III, 112, 113, 114, 115, 1 16, 117. Cox, Dr., References to Materials for Life of, 172. Cranfield, Lionel, Earl of Midds., im- peachment of, 1 2$. Croft, Mary, 188. „ Sir James, 194, 251. ,, Sir Richard, 188. „ Mr., 207. Cromwell, Lord, 128. ,, Thomas, 107. Cumberland, 154, 163. Curia Regis, jurisdiction of the, Curre, John, 191, 192, 198, 202, 260. Curtey?, W., 242. Cushworth, Manor of, 27, 28. Dacre, Lord, 99. „ Family of, 16. Danby, T., 159. Dannett, Mr., 208. Danvers, Sir John, 263, 264, 265. ,, Family of, 16. Danyell, Mary {see Darrell, Mary). „ Mr., 40. Darrell, Dame Alice, 189. „ Sir Edward, 3, 4, S, 6, 9, 10, 21, 142, 164, 178, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 233, 23s, 236, 238, 239, 240. Darrell, Dame Elizabeth, 3, 6, 96, 164, 187, 192, 193, 194, 233, 234, 241. „ Elynor, 185, 234. Darrell, alias Danyell, Mary, 3, 4, S, 6, 188, 192, 19s, 196. Darrell, George, 51, 142, 192, 249. „ Sir George, 96, 164, 186, 187, 188, 191. Darrell, Sir J., 164, 186, 188. „ Marmaduke, 186, 259. ,, Marmaduke, Sir, 174. „ Richard, 187. „ Thomas, 4, 187, 193. „ William, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, II, 12, 13, 14, IS, 16, 18, 24, 25, SI, 57. 70, 77. 95. 96, 97. 98, 99, 100, loi, 102, 122, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 164, 174, 181, 186, 193, 194, 19s, 196. 212, 233, 234, 23s, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240, 242, 243, 244, 245. 246, 247, 249, 2SO, 251, 2S2, 253. 254. 255. 256, 2S7. 2S8, 259, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264, 26s, 266, 267, 269, 270, 271, 272, 273, 274, 275. 276. 277. Darrell, William, Correspondence of, 253. 2S4. 255, 256. 257, 258, 259, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268, 269, 470, 271, 272, 273, 274, 275, 276, 277, 278. Darrell, William, Household of, 10, II, 99, 100, 200, 201, 206-233. Darrell, William, Income and Ex- penditure of, 10, II, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25. 194-233- Darrell, William, Lawsuits of, 4, S. 6. 7, 8, 9, 10, II, 12, 13, 98, 99, 208, 209, 233, 234, 23s, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240, 242, 243, 244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 249. Darrell, Family of, 16, 142, 143, 186, 187, l88, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193. Dawnay, Family of, 186. Dawntrey, Jane, 241. Deane, Forest of, 174. Denchwoorth, 249. Denton, 179. Derby, 74, 163. Index. 283 Derbyshire, 20, 29, 30. Derynge, Mr., 53. Devereux, Frances, 94, 96, 164. ,, Lettice, 92, 94, 164. „ Penelope, go, 96, 164, 165. ,, Walter, 1st Earl of Essex, 168. Devereux, Family of, 91. Devon, Charles Blunt, Earl of, 92, 164. Devonshire, 59, 122, 163. Dewe, Mr., 208. Dickenson, Mr., 209. Diet, Changes in, during l6th Century, 76. Dixon, J., 240. Dorset, 17, 74, 96, 163, 187, 189, 193. 194, I9S, 233. Dover, 80. Dozzylle Measure, 168. Docwra, Sir Henry, 128. Drake, Sir Francis, 91, 120, 266. Draycott, Manor of, 188. Ducket, Sir Lionel, 63. Dudley, Dame Alice, 169. „ Dame Anne, 94. „ Guildford, 164. „ John, 94, 96, 164. „ Lady Mary, 92. „ Mary, 164. „ Lord Robert (see Leicester, Earl of). Dudley, Sir Robert, 169. „ Thomas, 92. Durham, 163. Dyer, Sir James, 235. Dysney, Anthony, 233. East Garston, 241. Edward L, 133. „ IIL, 109, 110. „ VI., 39, 96, 108, 120, 186, 187, 192, 193, 233, 236, 237, 238. Edwards, Artur, S3- „ William, 204. ' Egerton, Sir Ralph, 140, 177. Elizabeth, Queen, 16, 26, 27, 34, 41, 4S. Sz> 55. 59. 6S, 67, 68, 69, ^o, 71. 73. 74, 76, 78, 80, 81, 90, 91, 95, 98, 101, 102, 108, 109, no. III, 112, 113, H4, 117, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 127, 128, 130, J37. 142. 156, 157, 161, 162, 168, 169, 172, 173, 174, 17s, 180, 181, 196, 234, 237, 239, 240, 242. Ellesmere, Lord, 124. Elliott, J., 173. Ely, 172, 109, no, 112, 114, 116, 117. „ Bishop of {see Cox, Dr. Richard). „ Isle and See of, 109, 112, 116, 117. Ely House, n6, 117. England, 12, 46, 60, 80, 124, 168, iS8. Englefield, Sir Francis, 247. Equity, Courts of, 137. Emly, John, 270. Essex, 6, 9, 12, 74, 163. „ Countess of, 91. „ Dorothy, 247, 248. ,, Edward, 239. „ Elizabeth, I, 189, 193. „ Francis, 99. ,, George, 249, 250. „ Mr. Edmund, 250. ,, Mrs., 242, 244, 245, 246. „ Robert, Earl of, 71, 91, 92. „ ,, 2nd Earl of, 91, 94, 95, 164. Essex, Sir Thomas, 189, 190. ,, Sir William, 9, 189, 190, 238, 239- Essex, Thomas, 9, 10, 233, 239. ,, Walter, Earl of, 90, 91, 92. ,, Walter Devereux, Earl of, 164. „ Family of, 144. Everley, 241. Everope, 245, 249. Exchange, Speculations on, 52. Exchequer, Court of, 124, 133. Fabyan, J., 54. Falkland, Viscount of, 122, 124. Fanshawe, Mr., 51, i6i, 178. Farley, 242, 243, 246, 247. Farrington, 256. Fastorne, 189. 284 Index, Faulkborne, 196. Feria, Duchess of, 24S. Fernfield, 83, 84. Fetyplace, Mr., 260. Fiddleton, Manor of, 192, 194, 195, 196. Fish, large consumption of, 75. Fisher, Mr., 51. Flanders, 48, 50, 59, 60, 160. Fleet Street, 74. Fleet, Prison of, 136, 137, 240. Fletcher, Ales, 19. Flushing, 176. Folce, Thos., 53. Foljambe, Sir Godfrey, 29. „ H., 20. „ Sir James, 29. ,, Family of, 16. Forde, Edmond, 53. Forster, Willm., 251. Fortescue, Mary, 191, 196, 233. „ Henry, 196, Forrest, Mr., 20$. Fotheringay Castle, 174, 259. France, 78, 257, 266. ' Frankley, 93. French Wines, 76. Frobisher, Martin, 61, 63, 120. Frogges Castle, 256. Froxfield, Manor of, 192, 194, 195, 196. Froxfield, Viqar of, 204. Fulham, 98, 206. Fyfield, 196. Gascon Wines, 77. Gedsale, Alice, 242. Gerard, Mr., 209. German Miners, 60, 63. Gessop, 159. Gilbert, Edward, 240. „ Mr., 240, 241. Gimmingham, Manor of, 158. Glamorganshire, 142. Glanvile, Mr., 208. Glasdale, John, 27. Gloucestershire, 142. Goddard, T., 240, 241, Godsall, 243, 246, 248, 255. " Golden Lion," The, i8l. Golif, John, 242, 243, 244. Goodman, Dean, 108. Gray's Inn, 17, 99. Grazing, increased value of, 156. Greece, Wines of, 77. Greenes Norton, 275. Greenwich, 261. Grenewiche, 188. Gresham, Lady, 62, 69, 70, 71, „ Sir John, 58, 59, 69,. 70, 160. „ Sir Richard, 58, 60, 69, 70, 160. Gresham, Sir Thomas, 19, 52, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71. Gresham, Sir Thomas, Materials for the Life of, 160, 161. Gresham, William, 69. „ Family of, 16. Greshame, Mr., 161. Grey, Henry, 94. „ Lady Catherine, 94, 96, 164. ,, Lady Francis, 164. ,, Lady Jane, 164. ,, Lady Mary, 61, 62. Grey, Family of, 61, 62, 94. Griffith, Sir George, 177. „ Walter, 177, Gryffyn, Lanslet, 179. Grocers' Company, 46, 55. Gunter, J., 194, 238. Gybbes, Mr., 208. Hackleston, Manor of, 192, 194, 195, 196. Hadley, Manor of, 57. Hales-Owen, Manor of, 30. Hamaike, H., 51. Hamburgh, 61. Hampshire, S3> Hampton Court, 189, Hanse Traders, Rivalry of, with Mer- chant Adventurers, 59. Hanvyles, Manor of, 192, 194, 195, 196. . Harriss, Mr., 266. Index. 285 Harrow-on-the-HUl, 206. Hatton, Sir Christaopher,, 117 (see Newhaverven). Hawkins, Sir John, 121 71 Haydenhedd, 207. Hayes, John, 199. Helmes, Manor of, 195, 196. Helms Heath, 241, Henry III., 186. „ IV., 186. „ VIL, 76, 164. „ VIII., 35, 39, 78, 96, 108, 109, 120, 164, 170, 187, 188, 189, 190, 193. 236. Hereford, Earl of, 96. „ Viscount, 168. Hertfordshire, Sheriff of, 122. Herts, 163, 165, 170, 171. „ Edwd.,E. of, 164, 235, 236, 237. Hext, Mr., 208. Hide, William, 12, 194, 249, 234, 235, 2S7- Higgins, Sir William, 170, 171. Hill, William, 204. Hilwood Coppice, 240. Hinton, Anthony, 240, 267. Hippesly, Mr., 142. Holborn, 115. „ Bridge, 100, 206. „ Hill, 99. Holland, 77. HoUoway, J., 157. Horseman, J., 202. Houndslow, 25, 207. Housse, Robert, 52. Howard, Douglas, 94. „ Elizabeth, 95. ,, Lady Frances, 91, 95. Howsard, J., 52. Hungerford, Lady Anna, II, 12, 242, 243, 244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 254, 255, 256. Hungerford,. Sir A., 193. „ Mr. Edmund, 242. „ Edward, 255. „ Mr. John, 242. „ Sir Walter, 12, 243, 244, 246, 248, 255, 256. Hungerford, Family of, 16. „ 199, 208, 234. „ Manor of, 194, 195, 208. ,, Park, 241. Hunte, Thomas, 178. Hunsdon, Baron (j« Carey, Henry). Hunsdons, Family of, 122, 124. Huntingdon, Lord, 28. Hurley, Manor of, 177. Hyde, Stephen, 205. ,, Manor of, 233. Hynton, John, 240. Inglys Hous at Antwerp, 48. Inkpen, Mr. Richard, 240, 241, 242. ,, Manor of, 194, 195, 196. Inns, Table of, 163. ,, (j(?^ Taverns). Inventory of Goods, 149, 153, 156,, 158. „ of Household Stuff, 149, 153, IS7. 191- Inventory of Implements, 149, 153, 137, „ of Land, 158. „ of Leases, 157. „ of Stock, 153, 157. Ipswich, 163. Ireland, 48, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 168, 174, 181. Ireland, Contracts for Clothing the Army in, 120, 125, 128. Ireland, Lord-Deputy of, 122. „ Master of the Exchange for, 123. Ireland, Vice-Treasurer of, 123. Irish Foot Bands, Captains of the, 125. Isle of Wight, Governor of the, 123. Italy, 60, 76, 77. James I., 94, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 130. 133. 176, 195- Johnson, John, 77. „ Edward, igi, 192. Jones, Alice, 243. „ William, 242. Kempet, Margaret, 157. „ Thomas, 157. KenUworth, 68, 161, 169. 286 Index. Kent, 74, 178, 249. „ Earl of, 259. Keyses, Martini 61, 62. Kingsbury Eagle, 235. Kingsbury, Manor of, 138, 139, 140, 176, 177- Kingsbury, Parish of, 157. King's Bench, Court of, 133. Kinges Hed, loi, 220. Kintbury, Manor of, 194, 19S. 208, 209, 235. Klynt.J., 52. Knevitt, Sir Henry, 273, 276, 277. „ Thomas, 276. ,, Sir Thomas, 71. „ Mr., 273. „ Family of, 16. Knight, John,' 191, 192. Knightlye, Sir Rich., 259. Knighton, Manor of, 193, 194, 195. 233. KnoUes, Sir Francis, 91, 95, 164. „ Lettice, 91, 95. „ William, Earl of Banbury, 95. Kynaston, Family of, 16. Kyngesmyll, Richard, 270. Lake, John, 234. Lambeth, 98, iii. Lammas, Sir Thomas, 156. Lancashire, 165. Lancaster, Duchy of, 34, 139, 140, IS5. 156, 172. Lanston Lasby, 257. Latimer, Hugh, 38, 39, 40, 46, 48, 169. Leds, R., S3. Legatt, Mr., 265, 266. Leicester, House, 92, 99, 163. Lady, 99. Leicester, Robert, Earl of, 12, 30, 46, 68, 70, 71. 89, .91. 92, 93. 94. ,95. 99, 161, 164, 169, 208, 254, 255, 266. Leicestershire, 85. Leigh, John, 169. Sir Thomas, 169. Lemster, 170. Leverton, 190, 192, 194, 195. Lincoln, 163, 156. Lincolnshire, 75, 138. Littlecote, 3, 5, 9, 10, I2, 21, 22, 23, 24. 25. 51. 70, 96. 98, 100, loi, 142, 146, 174, 185, 186, 187, 190,191, 192, 193, 194, 19s, 197, 199, 200, 201, 203, 204, 233, 240, 254, 257, 259, 261, 262, 264, 266, 267, 270, 277. Littlecote, Balance-sheet of Receipts and Expenditure .at, 197. Littlecote, Expenditure at, 194, 195, 196. Littlecote, Farm Labour at, 21, 203, 204. „ Flocks and Farming Im- plements at, 23. Littlecote, Household, 24. „ Provisions, Vegetables, Fruit, sent to Warwick Lane from, 100. Littlecote, Rent Roll of; 194, 195, 196. „ Rents of, 198. „ Sale of Corn and Stock at, 199. Littlecote, Servants and Labourers at, 191, 200, 202, 203, 204. Littlecote, taken possession of. by Popham, 252, 277. Littlecote, Tithes and Taxes on, 23. „ visited by Elizabeth alter Darrell's death, 102. Littlecote, Wages and Household Ex- penses at, 200, 201. Littlecote, Wm. Darrell's last visit to, loi. Littleton, Sir John, 30, 93, 94, 169. Lodge,., Alderman Thos., 48, 52, 50, SI. S6- Lodge, the Younger, 48. London, 10, 12, 20, 24, 31, 32, 33, 45, 46, 48, 52, S3. 57. 61, 64, 65, 66, 80, 82, 83, 84, 100, loi, 102, III, 116, .124, 125, 127, 161, 197, 202, 203, 204, 205, 214, 244, 24s, 246, 247, 255, 264, 266, 277. London, Citizens of, 45. „ Train-bands of, 46. Index. 287 London Bridge, 81. Long, Henry, 188. „ Sir Thomas, 188. ,, Family of, 16. Mabbe, Isabel, 82. „ John, 82. „ Robert, 82, 162. Maidenhead, 25. Maidstone, 159. Malmesbury, Abbot of, 187. Manners, Roger, 20. Manorial Customs, 155. Manwood, Roger, 51, 178. Marlborough, 14, 24, 194, 195, 199, 200, 201, 202, 204, 248, 267, 276. Marlborough, Beare Inn at, 24. Marshalsea, 91, 136. Martyn, Henry, 240. Mary, Queen of England, 48, 59, 61, 108, 120. Mary, Queen of Scots, 174, 259. Marvyn, Sir James, 277. Massinger, Arthur, 252. Massyntor, Mrs., 159. Maunsell, Mr,, 265, 266. ,, Mistress, 265. Maydew Mead, 233. Merchants Adventurers, 59, 61. „ Staplers, 59, 61. Middlesex, 60, 81, 163. Middle temple, 272, 278. Molyns, Mr., 202. Monmouth, 74. Montague, Sir Edward, 259. Moore, Elizabeth, 193. „ John, 193. „ Robert, 193. More, James, 204, 206, 207, 209, 2lo, 211, 223, 224, 232. More, Sir Thomas, 107. „ William, 206, 211. Mountjoy, Lord (see Blunt, Charles). Muskovy Company, 181. Myddel-hydes, 233. Myldmay, Sir Walter, 68, 235. Mylles, Frauncis, 275. Myllney, Styven, 52. Navy, Surveyor-General of victuals for the, 120, 121, 122, 174. Nedham, Andrew, 19. Nevylle, Edmund, 181. New, Stephen, 203. Newbury, 12, 15, 24, 25, 199, 200, 201, 207, 249, 277. Newbury, Bull Inn at, 24. New Fish Street, loi, 220. Newgate Street, 99. Newhaven, 60, 64, 65. Newporte, 9, 55. Norfolk, 74, 81, 158, 163. North, Lord, 112, 113, 114. Northampton, 163. Northamptonshire, 75. Northstanden, 242. Northumberland, 163. „ Earl of, 181, 261. „ John, Duke of, 92, 94, 96. Norwich, 35, 69, 149. Nottingham, 74, 159, 163. „ Earl of, 124. Ogle, Humffrey, 170. Old Swanne Inn, 98, 206. Orcheston, Manor of, 188, 192, 194, 195. 234. 236, 237. Osborne, Mr., 208. Osmond, 203, Over-hydes, 233. Oxenbridge, R., 194, 234. Paget, Family of, 123. Parkebury, Manor of, 165. Parker, Dr., Archbishop of Canter- bury, III, 170. Parkers, Sir Henry, Knt., 149. Parr, Anne, 164. ,, Catherine, 94, 164. ,, Sir Thomas, 164. Parsons, Dorothy, 194. Partridge, Aphabelle, 82. Paston, W., 158. Paternoster Row, ^, loi. 288 Index. Paulet, Family of, 91. Pawlet, Sir Hugh, 65. Peirs, Edmund, 191. Pembroke, 106, 170, 171. „ Anne, Countess of, 94. ,, Mary, Countess of, 14, 91. ,, Henry, and Earl of, 13, 62, 71, 94, 97, 102, 128, 142, 164, 251, 262, 273. Pembroke, William, 1st Earl of, 94. Penruddock, Mr., 260, 277. Perram, Mr., 260. Perrot, Sir John, 181. Peye, Edmund, 261. Picardy, 188, 189; Pickerell, Mr., 208. Pitts, The, 233. Philipps, Sir Thomas, 128. Phillips, R., 202. Plott, John, 191, 233. Pocock, J., 200. Pollard, John, 239. Popham, Alexander, 142. ,, Edward, 142. Sir John, 13,25, 71, 97, 102, 142, 143. 144. J45» 146, 180, 181, 194, 262, 264, 265. Popham, Family of, 142, 188. Portsmouth, 121. Poulet, Lady, 122. Povey, Johan, 260. Powell, Mr., 269, 270. Peat, Mn, 50. Prewne, Christopher, 64. Puttenam, Mr., 208, 234. Pyers, John, 233. Pyke, Thomas, 142. Quarles, Richard, 137. Queen's Hed Inn, 101. Radcliffe, Egremonde, 193. Raleigh, Sir Walter, 71, 77, 79, 120. „ Mistress, 245, Ramesbury, 193, 194, 195, 198, 233, 252. Ratcliffe, 98, 206, 209, 220. Rawcliife, 153. Read, Andrew, 208. >, P., 158. Reading, 25. Rede, William, 278. Reigate, 25, 232. ,, Park, 207. Requests, Court of, 8, 133, 134, 136, 137, 140, 143, 144, I4S, 176. Reynoldes, Mr., 265. Rhenish Wines, 76. Rich, Lettice, 123. „ Lord, 90, 92, 164, 165, 167. ' „ Penelope, 91, 92, 95, 96. Richards, G., 200. „ Hugh, 244, 245. ' „ N., 200, 204, 207. Richmond, 257. Ripon, 172. Robsart, Amy, 94. ,, Arthur, 94, 169. Robynson, Fr., 51, 53, 54. Rodley, Manor of, 155. Rogers, Andrew, 96, 164. „ Dame Elizabeth, 7, 233. ,, Honora, 96, 164. „ John, 6, 191, 193, 233. „ Sir John, 164, 193. „ Sir Richard, 96, 164. Rome, 109. Roper, Mr., 255. ,, Sir Thomas, 128. Rose and Crown Inn, 83. Rotheram, Mr., 208. „ Sir Thomas, 128. Royal Exchange, 58,. 61. Russell, Mr., 81. Russia, 48, 52, 53. Rutland, 163. Rutland, Henry, Earl of, 5, 194, 234, 260. Rygge, Manor of, 192, 194, 195, 196. Sackforde, Mr., 260. Sadlier, Mr., 240, 241, 242. St. Albans, 163. St. Clements, Parish of, 92. St. James, Court of, 93, l68. „ Park of, 276. Index. 289 St. John, Lord, 99. „ Mr., 24, 270. St. John's Lane, 84. St. Paul's, 46. St.Peter's Collegiate house at RipoU; Salisbury, 142, 188, 192, 262, 265. Salisbury, Bishop of, 189, 190. „ Lord, 124. Sanden-down, 241. Sandys, Edward, 36. „ Myles, 278. „ Dr., Archbishop of York, Sarttinge, EUyne, 52. Savoy, Palace of, 248. Scarminge, Mr., 180. Scotney, 187. Scotland, 266. Scryven, Regnold, 205, 208, 258, 270, 271. Sessay, 185, 186. Setun, Dr., 53. Sexton, Alice, 240. ,, Thomas, 240. Seymour, Anne, 94, 96, 164. „ Jane, 96, 164, 186, 187. „ Lord Thomas, 94. ,, Mary, 96, 164. ,, Sir John, 96, 164. ,, William, 94, 96, 164. ,, Family of, 61, 96. Shakespeare, William, 20, 48, 83, Sharrington, William, 52. Sheffield, 74. Shelley Family, 16. Shrewsbury, Earl of, 19, 20, 259, Shropshire, 31. Skritt, Anthony, 262. Slatter, T., 194, 209, 266. Sly, Mr., 208, 209. Small, N.,53. Smith, T., 240. Smithfield, 11. Smithfield Bars, 83, 84. Smythe, Sir John, 257. Somerfield, 180. Somerset, Edward, Duke of, 71, 187, I9S. 236. 237- 1 1 72. 264, 36. 266, 86. 266. 164, Somerset. Henry, Duke of, 61, 94, 95, 96. Somersetshire, 17, 30, 142, 163. Somersham, Park of, 113. Southampton, 29, 74, 157, 163. Southwark, 83, 162. Spain, 59, 76, 77, 120, 181. Spanish Armada, 23, 98, 119, 272, 273, 274. 27s, 276. Spencer, Mr., 265, 266. Speue, 207. Staffleton, R., 241. StaiTordshire, 81, 163. Staines, 49. Standen, Mr., 209. Stanerton, Mr., 208, 234. Stanhope, D., 208, 209. Staple Inn, 99. Star-Chamber, Court of, 133, 134, 180. Starkye, Thomas, 52. Stoddard, George, 48, 49, 50, Ji 2, 54, 55. 56, 57, 59, iS9, 178, Stoddard, Marjery, 55. Strakes, John, 208. Strand, 99. Stransham, Mr. 251. Stratforde, 83. Stokenede, T., 51. Stoke Pogis, Manor of, 28. Stoner, Wm., 52. Stowte, W., 234. Stubbs, Mr., 202, 205, 207, 276. Stukely, H., 194, 208, 234, 238, 239, 240, 262, 263. Sturnsand, Nurse, 55. Sudely, Thos., Lord, 164. Suffolk, 163. Suffolk, Duchess of, 62. Surrey, 137. Surveyor-General of the Navy, 120. Sussex, S3, 74, 172- Sydney, Dame Francis, 12, 91, 92. ;, Lady, 255. „ Lady Mary, 62, 94, 164. „ Sir Henry, 91, 92, 94, 164. „ Sir Philip, 13, 14, 46. 62, 90, 91, 92, 95, 167. „ Family of, 91. U 290 Indeic. Sypenham, Court of, 157. Tabard Inn, 162. Taverns, licensed by Sir W. Raleigh, 77. „ Fatal brawls in, 75, 78. „ Regulation of, by the Govern- ment, 79. ,, Inquisitions for keeping fast- days by, 80. „ Table of, 163. ,, Taxation of, 80. Tenant-right, Custom of, 154, 155. Temple, 98, 142, 206, 207. „ Bar, 92. Thirlby, Dr. Thomas, Bishop of Ely, 109, 110, III, ir6. Thornton, Dean and Chapter of, 156. Throgmorton, Nicholas, 146, 181. Thynne, Mr., 237. „ Sir John, 191, 237. Tillage, Depression of, 156. Tittenhanger, 122. Tippling Houses [see Taverns), 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85. Tower of London, 1 10. Treasurer of Ireland, 122, 123. Tremoyne, Mr., 261. Tuckey, George, 93, 94. Turner, Dr., Dean of Wells, 108. Try, Lewis, 255. Turkey, 181. Tyrrwhit, Sir Robert, 156. UfEngton, Manor of, 8, 9, 194, 234, 235- Vanderven, Geo., 159. Vernon, Mr;, 208. Vyolyt, John, 53. "Wales, 257. Wallingford, 202. Walron, Thomas, Esq., 233. Walrond, George, 240, 241. Walrond, Mr., 204. Walsingham, Sir Francis, 68, 90, 97, 98, 102, 164, 165, 168, 194, 23s, 273, 274, 27s, 276, 277. Walsingham, Francis, 90, 91, 95, 164. „ Dame Ursula, 95, 96, 165. ,, Sir Thomas, 96. Walsingham House, 99, 207. Wanborough, 7, 21, 192, 193, 194, 195, 198, 233, 234. Wanborough, Copy Holders, of, 8, 143. Ward, Jane, 243, 248. „ John, 243, 244. Wards and Liveries, Court of, 134, 136, I4S- Warwick Lane, 99, 197, 206, 212. Warwick, Ambrose, Earl of, 70. „ Robert, Earl of, 123. Warwickshire, 1^8, 139, 163. Warying, William, Case of, 106, 107, 108, 170, 171. Wattes, R., 173. Wplls, Deanery of, 108. Welsh Marches, 135. West Bedwyn, 181, 197, 236. West Marches, 154. Westminster, 24, 98, 99, 206, 276. Westmoreland, 163. Westwoodhey, 194, 195. Wexcombe, Manor of, 236, 237. White, Daniel, 198. » John, 191, 192. Whitegift, iDr., Archbishop of Canter- bury, 170. Whithed, John, 249. Wickerson, J., 91, 168. Wight, Isle of, 123, 128. Williams, John, 240. „ Thomas, 202. Williamson,' Nicholas, 19, 20. Willington, Hugh, 177. " T., 177. „ Waldyve, 138, 139- „ Family of, 141. Wilmot, Sir Charles, 128. Willoughby, Sir Francis, 140, 177. Witson, Thomas, 63. Wiltshire, 3, 12, 14, 94, 142. Wilton, 262. Index. 291 Winchester, 53. Winterbouine-Monkton, Manor of, 194, 195, 234, 237, Wlrksworth, 19. Withall, Manor of, 194, 195. Wodehouse, SirT., 158. Wood, Mr., 181. Woodhey, 209. Worcestershire, 30, 93. Wilts, 165, 187, 188, 189, 190, 192, 193, 194. 19s. 196, 197, 209, 233, 240, 274, 277. Windebanke, Master Thomas, 60. Windsor, Andrew, Lord, 28, 172. Windsor, 49. Wines, Prices of, wholesale and retail, 77- Wingfield, Sir Richard, 128. Winterborne, Manor of, 192. Worcestershire, 93. Worsley, John, 95, 165. „ Sir Robert, go, 95, 165. ,, Dame Ursula, 90, 95, 164. „ Family of, 165. Wray, Sir Christopher, 145. Wroughton, Mr., 269, 270, 276. Wryme Hill, 85. Yorkshire, 29, 32, 33, 153, 163, 186. Younge, Mr. , 250. Younge, Mr., Roger, 249. Zeland, 77, 78. Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Froine, and London.