Chapter II: Part 2

Unhappily however, then, as is sometimes the case now, the crowd of spectators greatly exceeded the space provided for their accommodation. The multitude of beholders, indeed, was so considerable that there was not convenient room for those who were actors. Many of the performers among the Templarians (as they were then called) left the Hall so displeased and angry that their discontent resulted in blows, and the fighting became so furious that the next day it was found necessary to have an inquiry into the cause of "these disorders."

Nothing daunted, however, by the ill-success of their opening night, the revellers organised another grand performance on the 3rd January following, in honour of a great number of ambassadors, knights, ladies, and other worshipful personages, amongst whom were the Lord Keeper, the Lords Shrewsbury, Burleigh, Cumberland, most of the officers of State and of the Queen's household, and it is said all these guests had convenient places and very good entertainment.

The Temple and Gray's Inn were now reconciled and had become friendly again, so the day after this entertainment the Prince of Purpoole, accompanied by the "Ambassadors of Templaria," and attended by eighty gentlemen of Gray's Inn and the Temple (each of them wearing a plume on his head), dined in state with the Lord Mayor at Crosby Place.

The next grand night was upon Twelfth Night, on which occasion there was again a great company of lords, ladies, and knights; and at Shrovetide the Prince and his company visited Queen Elizabeth at Greenwich.

After the performance Her Majesty "willed the Lord Chamberlain that the gentlemen should be invited on the next day, and that he should present them to her," which was done, and Her Majesty gave them her hand to kiss, with most gracious words of commendation to them, "particularly and in general of Gray's Inn, as an house that she was much beholden unto, for that it did always study for some sports to present unto her."

The same night there was fighting at "Barriers," at which the Prince behaved so valiantly and skilfully that the prize, a jewel set with seventeen diamonds and four rubies, was presented to him by the Queen.

The following order of Pension, to defray the expenses of the above entertainment, was made on February 9th, 37th Elizabeth.

"At this Pension it is ordered that every Reader of this House, towards the charges of the shows and sports before Her Majesty at Shrovetide last year, shall pay ten shillings, and every Ancient six shillings and eightpence, and every Utter Barrister five shillings, and every other Gentleman of this Society, three shillings and sixpence before the end of this term."

There is a tradition in Gray's Inn that the screen already mentioned under the gallery in the Great Hall, as well as the dining tables now used in the Hall, were given to the Society by that Queen as tokens of Her Majesty's regard.

Queen Elizabeth's memory is still held in much affection by the ever loyal subjects in Gray's Inn, and on the Grand Day of each term "the glorious, pious, and immortal memory of good Queen Bess" is still solemnly given in Hall.

In 1613, "the Maske of Flowers was presented by the Gentlemen of Graie's Inn, in the Banqueting House, at the Court of Whitehall, on the occasion of the marriage of the Earle of Somerset with the Lady Frances, daughter of the Earl of Suffolk."

In "The Court and Times of King James I.," there is a letter from I. Chamberlaine, dated 23rd December, 1613, in which he says:

"Sir Francis Bacon prepares a masque to honour their marriage which will stand him in above £2,000, and, although he has been offered some help by the House, and especially by Mr. Solicitor Sir Henry Yelverton, who would have sent him £500, yet he would not accept it."

The story of this masque was published the following year, with a dedication "to the verie honourable Sir Francis Bacon, His Majesty's Attorney-General."

The dedication states:

"That you have graced in general the Societies of the Innes of Court in continuing them still as third persons with the nobility and Court, in doing the King honour, and particularly Graie's Inne, which, as you have formerly brought to flourish both in the ancienter and younger sort by countenancing virtue in every quality, so now you have made a notable demonstration thereof in the lighter and less serious kind."

The members of this learned Society did not always, it appears, amuse themselves in so discreet a manner, for there is a letter in the same book, "The Court and Times of James I.," relating that:

"The gentlemen of Gray's Inn, to make an end of Christmas, on Twelfth Night, at the dead time of the night, shot off all the chambers (small cannon), which they had borrowed from the Tower, being as many as filled four carts.

"The King, awakened by this noise, started out of his bed, and cried: 'Treason! treason!' So the City was in an uproar, in such sort, as it is said, that the whole Court was raised, and almost in arms, the Earl of Arundel running to the bed-chamber, with his sword drawn, as to rescue the King's person."

The following sketch of a ticket of admission to the masque at Gray's Inn on the 2nd February, 1682, is taken from Nichol's "Progresses of Elizabeth:"

This entertainment is thus alluded to by Luttrell in his diary:

"On Saturday the 4th inst., the revells began at Graie's Inn. On 23rd January, Sir Richard Gipps, master of the revells at Graie's Inn, attended by his revellers and comptrollers, went to Whitehall in one of His Majesty's coaches, with several noble men's coaches, and six horses, to invite the King and Queen, the Duke (York) and Duchesse, and the rest of the Court, to a mask at Graie's Inn, on Candlemas Day; and accordingly there was great preparation that day, diverse of the nobility and gentry in masks attended, who danced in the Hall, and afterwards were entertained with a splendid banquet."

Evelyn had already spoken of these revels in terms of contempt and disapprobation, terming them "solemn fooleries," and regretting that the King countenanced them and the deep play that usually concluded the evening. He says:

"6th January, 1661-2.--This evening, according to custome, His Majesty opened the revells (at Lincoln's Inn) of that night, by throwing the dice himself in the privy chamber, where was a table set on purpose, and lost his £100 (the year before he won £1,500). The ladies also plaid very deepe.... Sorry I am that such a wretched custome as play to that excess should be countenanced in a Court that ought to be an example of virtue to the rest of the Kingdom."

During the troubled reign of James II., and during the first year of that of William III., men's minds were too harassed by political anxieties to allow them much time, or indeed inclination, to indulge in such costly and somewhat tedious entertainments. Money was scarce in England, and the few who had any, cautiously concealed even the semblance of riches, not knowing what changes a few years might produce.

Who, indeed, could predict with reasonable probability what King would rule over the land, or, indeed, which Church would gain the supremacy?

From this period these masques fell into disrepute, and the last record of so many gay revels is in 1773, on the occasion of Mr. Talbot being elevated to the woolsack.

After a long and elaborate dinner, every member of each mess had a flask of claret, besides the usual allowance of port and sack.

The Benchers then all assembled in the Great Hall, and a large ring was formed round the fireplace, when the Master of the Revels taking the Lord Chancellor by the right hand, he with his left took Mr. Justice Page, who, joined to the other Serjeants and Benchers, danced about the coal fire according to the old ceremony three times, while the ancient song, accompanied with music, was sung by one Tony Aston, dressed as a barrister.

It is difficult to understand so dignified a personage as the Lord High Chancellor inaugurating his accession to office by such an after-dinner dance.

Perhaps the extra flask of claret, following the usual port wine and sack, may have had something to do with so singular a proceeding.

At any rate, after this remarkable festival, all such hilarious proceedings ceased, and henceforward the great dinners were given with all befitting and solemn dignity.

If the grand old Hall may be deemed the heart of Gray's Inn, then the jewelled crown that is the noblest ornament of this time-honoured abode of learning may be said to have been created by the distinguished men who have grown up under her fostering care, whose studies have been matured within the shelter of her old walls.

Names are inscribed here--on the panels, on the windows, in the hall--the very sight of which must fire the heart of many a student with pride and hope.

However poor he may be, however lowly his birth, however destitute he may be of everything, save of the divine spark of genius and of that safest attendant upon genius--resolute perseverance--the path of success is open to him.

The Temple of Fame is before him. He may seize the prize it contains, if he will; but the road is steep and hard to climb, and the thorns that beset it are many and sharp.

What stories might be told of the early struggles, of the early hardships of many of those who have ultimately attained the highest places in the State and in the Law!

How many of those whose names will never die while England has a history, might relate how keen, nay, how terrible had been their sufferings when they first started in their career.

With what difficulty they obtained even necessary clothing. How hard it was to earn the daily bread. How many sacrifices had to be made, how many privations endured, ere the books could be bought that were absolutely essential for their legal studies.

And if it is thus hard for those who win, what tales of bitter woe and anguish might be written of those who labour and fail. Of those who, having both talent and application, yet lack, alas! the peculiar genius that enables the great lawyer to grasp a subject or legal point with a rapidity, and a perspicuity that is truly marvellous to the unlearned!

What hours of anxious study, what fevered days and terrible nights must the unsuccessful, struggling man endure. Conscious, in all probability, of his own deficiencies, and yet hoping on--ever hoping on, not daring to confess even to himself that the studies of years have been of no avail, that the tree is barren, and will never bear fruit.

These are the unhappy men who eventually sink into the crowd of poor legal hacks. These are indeed the jackals who must cater and work for the lions of their order.

NOTE.--Those who are interested in the history and customs of this old Inn of Court are referred to an admirable work on the subject, namely, "Notes on Gray's Inn," by W. R. Douthwaite, Esq., librarian.

THE TWO BROTHERS, ANTHONY AND FRANCIS BACON.

The most notable of the many distinguished names recorded in Gray's Inn is that of Francis Bacon, afterwards Lord Verulam, Viscount St. Albans, and Lord High Chancellor of England.

The son of a distinguished and learned gentleman, he was also happy in having in his mother a woman alike remarkable for her piety, her domestic virtues, and her great learning. Accomplished in no common degree in the charming arts of music and painting, few scholars of the day excelled Lady Bacon in intimate knowledge of Latin and Greek.

Francis, her second son, was born in 1561, and so early gave tokens of such exceptional talent that when very young he was honoured by the notice of Queen Elizabeth. Whatever the faults, errors, and meannesses of Queen Elizabeth as a woman, in her character of sovereign, in one respect at least, she showed herself to be well worthy to wear a crown, well worthy to govern a great people, inasmuch as she possessed to a rare extent that inestimable quality in those who have to rule, the power of appreciating genius.

Under no reign has learning been more fostered, under no reign have talented men so clustered round the throne, as during the reign of this maiden Queen.

Elizabeth appreciated the powers of, and knew when she had a distinguished statesman, and though she might ill-treat him, show herself most niggardly towards him, not unfrequently betraying cruel ingratitude, yet she ever respected his talents and caused them to be respected by others.

Both Francis Bacon and his elder brother Anthony were educated at Trinity College, Cambridge.

Anthony was a man of good and even brilliant parts, but being the eldest son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, who, besides a great legal position, had large landed estates in several of the midland counties, young Anthony was not destined to any profession. He spent much of his time in travelling, and thus became personally acquainted with most of the learned persons of the age.

In 1579, being then twenty-one, to the annoyance of his family he resolved to reside entirely in Paris, and there he remained for some years. He then went to Bourges and Geneva, and, at the latter place, lodged in the house of the celebrated Theodore Beza.

From Geneva he successively removed to Montpellier, Marseilles, Bordeaux, and Montauban, having become by this time a sort of recognised Government correspondent, constantly communicating to the English ministry intelligence of any importance.

In 1585 he went to Bearn on a visit to Henry of Navarre, afterwards the great Henry IV. of France, and here made acquaintance with the learned Lambert Dansens, who, as a mark of esteem, dedicated several of his works to his English friend.

Here, too, began for poor Sir Anthony the great romance of his life. It was at this Court that he became acquainted with a beautiful French lady, whose many charms and winning graces broke the poor baronet's heart. With some rare and gifted natures love is an integral part of life. When it is clear that love must die, life in a great measure dies too, and so it was with Sir Anthony Bacon.

His love was unsuccessful; so, sore-hearted and with broken health he left the scene of his brief happiness and of his enduring grief, and returned to England, never again to leave it. He took up his residence at Essex House, and after a time rallied sufficiently from his disappointment to resume his correspondence with some of his foreign friends. Amongst these his most constant and valued correspondent was King Henry IV. of France; but the sorrowful love romance had destroyed the most brilliant portion of his existence, and Sir Anthony never quite recovered from the pain he had then suffered.

His more celebrated brother was framed in harder mould. Before Francis was seventeen he had not only traversed the whole circle of the liberal arts as then taught, but he had begun to perceive how fallacious was the recognised philosophy of the day. And these fallacies he subsequently effectually exposed.

When the time came for leaving Cambridge, his father sent him first to France, and afterwards allowed him to make, what was called, the grand tour.

So well did he profit by his travels, that he wrote a general view of the state of Europe before he was nineteen.

He had intended carrying his researches still farther abroad, projecting a journey to Egypt and India, but the death of his father obliging him to return to England, he applied himself to the study of Common Law at Gray's Inn.

Even in these early days, the lucidity of his reasoning, the keenness of his intellect attracted the notice of many leading men.

The Earl of Essex in particular, who was a great discerner of merit, became his intimate friend, and endeavoured, though unsuccessfully, to procure for Bacon the office of Queen's Solicitor.

Failing in this, Lord Essex, to console his _protégé_ under such a disappointment, generously conferred on him a present of land to the value of £1,800.

Notwithstanding, however, the friendship of so powerful a patron, and notwithstanding the favour with which the Queen already regarded him, young Francis had, during the earlier years of his career, many obstacles to contend against.

Talents so remarkable, such great patronage, and especially the favour of the monarch, created a host of enemies, all of whom decried the young aspirant with the spiteful bitterness and venom of envy. They represented him as an essentially unpractical enthusiast, whose head was filled with philosophical and speculative ideas. As one far more likely therefore to perplex, than to forward public business.

So many cabals resulted in his being unable to obtain for a considerable period either office or preferment, and he was over forty years of age before Lord Burleigh, who was then Lord Treasurer, bestowed upon him the place of Registrar to the Star Chamber.

This appointment was worth about £1,600, but its duties were both onerous and unpleasant. It so happened that to Bacon they became especially distasteful, for the critical moment arrived when he had to decide whether he would resign his preferment, or disregard every sacred claim of honour and friendship.

Unhappily the choice he made at this juncture has tarnished for ever a name, that in other respects he rendered so illustrious, and ultimately it, in fact, proved the ruin of this great and gifted man.

Even in the events of this world, how often do our own faults become the very lashes that scourge us. How frequently does the evil we have done to others return upon us fourfold.

"Cast thy bread upon the waters," says the preacher, "and after many days it shall come back to thee," and this applies to evil as well as to good deeds.

During the larger part of Queen Elizabeth's reign, both in Court and State, two great parties were for ever struggling to obtain supremacy.

The two Cecils were at the head of one of these parties.

The leader of the other was first the Earl of Leicester, and subsequently, his son-in-law, the Earl of Essex.

Bacon's undoubted genius excited both the jealousy and the dislike of his relatives, the Cecils, and the intimate friendship he had formed with Lord Essex also much increased their covert animosity, although they did not care to exhibit it openly against so near a connection.

Still, though outwardly courteous, Bacon was well aware that in them he had formidable enemies, and he knew that his future prosperity mainly depended upon his being able to convert these enemies into friends.

Essex, with the generosity that was his distinguishing characteristic, had not only exerted himself strenuously on his friend's behalf, but had also, as already mentioned, by a noble gift, sought to console him for his disappointment in failing to obtain place.

But after years of prosperity and power, the fatal day came when the favourite was to share the fate of most Royal favourites, Essex was disgraced and fell into deep misfortune.

That a man could write as Bacon afterwards wrote of "Friendship," and of "Honour and Reputation," and yet permit himself, at the base dictates of ambition, to desert, nay, even to betray his earliest and most generous friend, must seem to every noble heart a fact almost incredible; but it is unhappily an undoubted fact, that when Essex was at the bar of the House of Lords to be tried for his life. Bacon, in his professional capacity, appeared _against_ his generous and affectionate friend and patron.

Nor was even this the extent of his unworthy treason.

For some time previously, and also after the unhappy favourite had expiated his follies by a shameful death, discontent and irritation had been spreading amongst all classes, and the Government grew daily more and more unpopular.

At length the clamours of the people became so loud and deep, not only against ministers, but also against the Queen herself, that it was deemed necessary to make a formal vindication of the proceedings of the Administration.

For this end all the blame, all the obloquy of every administrative failure must be thrown upon the dead man.

Bacon accepted the discreditable, nay, disgraceful duty that had been assigned to him. He allowed himself to vilify the name of his benefactor, his early friend. He agreed to cast the odium of treason upon one from whom he had accepted gifts, and for whom he had professed, and professed for years, the most ardent friendship.

In a skilful and masterly paper he justified the proceedings of the Government, and drew up a declaration of the treason of which Essex had been found guilty, and for which he had duly suffered.

Bacon retained his place. He had assured his career. He had forced the world to recognise his transcendent abilities; but ambition must have indeed hardened the heart of this man, ere she could console him for having thus cast from him every sentiment of gratitude, and affection, for having thus forsworn the honourable fealty that he owed to his benefactor and his friend.

From this moment, however, Bacon rose steadily, and, after the accession of James I., having published a brilliant pamphlet in favour of uniting the two kingdoms of England and Scotland, he rapidly obtained considerable honour.

In 1616 he was sworn of the Privy Council. He then devoted himself to reducing, and, in fact, recomposing the laws of England.

When Attorney-General he distinguished himself by his endeavours to restrain duelling, a practice at that time very frequent and very fatal.

In 1617 he was appointed Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, and the following year he was raised to the woolsack, and created Lord Verulam.

In the midst of these honours, and notwithstanding, also, the press of business, he did not forget his studies in philosophy, but in 1620 he published his great work, "Novum Organum." In 1621 he was advanced to the dignity of Viscount, and as Lord St. Albans he appeared with great splendour at the opening of Parliament.

But he had now arrived at the culminating point of his triumphs, and at the very moment when his power seemed greatest and his position most stable, his fall was near.

A very few months after Parliament had assembled, a committee of the House of Commons was appointed to inquire into the abuses that existed in the Courts of Justice; and, ere many sittings had taken place, the Chancellor was openly accused of corrupt practices.

The King, ever pusillanimous, and shrinking from giving support to a falling man, sent for Bacon, and, it is said, positively enjoined him to submit to his peers, promising to reward him afterwards!

The Chancellor, although he could have had but little faith in such promises, and foresaw his approaching ruin if he did not plead for himself, resolved, however, to obey the Royal command.

He was silent therefore under the accusations brought against him, and on the 3rd May, 1621, the House of Lords gave judgment against him, pronouncing upon him the following severe sentence:

"That he was to pay a fine of £40,000, and be confined a prisoner in the Tower, during the King's pleasure. That he should for ever be incapable of holding any place, office, or employment in the State, and that he should never again sit in Parliament, nor come within the verge of the Court."

At this distance of time the world judges him more leniently than he was then judged by his peers.

Greed of money had never been one of Bacon's failings. He loved power, place, and the good things that money can procure. He also loved his ease, and the affection and good-will of those about him; but of the gold itself he took little or no heed.

It was, in fact, to this carelessness, and to an amiability that he carried to the extent of selfish weakness that he owed his fall. For years all that he possessed had been at the service of those about him, and unhappily he was surrounded by, and had bestowed his kindness on persons, who were not only unworthy of it, but who had basely abused the confidence he had reposed in them.

We are told by Rushworth, that the Chancellor (Bacon) treasured up nothing for himself or his family, but that he was so over-indulgent to his servants, that this indulgence reached the point of conniving at their evil doings. Both his servants and his dependents were therefore profuse and extravagant, and had at their command whatever he was master of.

Too late did Bacon perceive his error. It is related that, one day during his trial, he passed through a room where several of his servants were sitting. They rose up respectfully to salute him as he went by, but said the Chancellor, "Sit down, my masters, for your rise has been my fall."

There seems little reason now to doubt that the gifts the Chancellor was accused of taking had been enforced, and received by these underlings.

It was these lamentable gifts that had caused him to be suspected of injustice, and yet it was subsequently proved that his decrees had been made for the most part with so much equity, that not one of them was ever reversed as unjust.

"It was peculiar to this man," says one of his numerous biographers, "to have nothing narrow or selfish in his composition. He gave away without concern whatever he possessed, and believing other men to be of the same mould, he received with as little consideration."

This opinion is probably correct in the main, but the greatest admirers of this talented and in many respects exceptionally great man, must admit that, ere he could have become unmindful of the honourable fealty he owed to his dead friend, the greed of power must have been strong in his heart, and that it was a selfish reluctance to take trouble that made him disregard one of the most stringent duties of the great, not only to be just themselves, but to ascertain that injustice is not practised by their subordinates.

After a short period of imprisonment the fallen Chancellor was released from the Tower. The King ultimately remitted his fine; and, after the death of James, he was again summoned to attend Parliament in the first year of the reign of Charles I., but never again after his degradation did Bacon take part in active life.

At first, indeed, after his release from prison, he found himself in extreme poverty. All he valued in this world had gone from him. Place, position, money, and, above all, that consideration from others which had been so dear to his heart.

So great at one time was his pecuniary distress, that he wrote a pathetic letter to King James, entreating His Majesty's assistance. "Lest," as he expresses it, "he should be reduced to carry a wallet, and after having lived only to study, be forced to study to live."

Notwithstanding the sorrowfulness of the letter, there lurks within it a vein of the humour that rendered him so delightful a companion, and through it all can be perceived the indomitable spirit of the man, that, even in the bitterest moment of his shattered fortunes, rose superior to the ruin that had overtaken him.

The energy that had made him so powerful in his public career did not desert him in his retirement.

With all the ardour of his great heart, he loved his country home, his quiet lodgings in Gray's Inn, and the studies to which, during the last years of his life, he wholly devoted himself. It was at this period that he wrote some of his most important English and Latin works; and from these it is evident that his thoughts were as free, and as vigorous, as they had ever been during the earliest and most brilliant years of his career.

Although he had been unhappy in having had many false and unworthy friends, one, at least, loved him faithfully to the end; and it was by him, Sir Thomas Meanty, his secretary, that the monument was erected to his memory in St. Michael's Church, St. Albans.

Many have written the biography of this distinguished man, but the best evidences of his life are the works he has given to the world: works replete with noble thoughts; works so grand, that they make us the more regret that there should be even one flaw to tarnish the golden lustre that shines around the name of one so brilliant, so illustrious.

It was in chambers in Coney Court, now called Gray's Inn Square, that Bacon passed his last years, and where he wrote several of his greatest works.

The aspect of these old houses--indeed, of these old chambers--bears traces, not only of the storms and sunshine that have passed over them in all this lapse of time, but they also speak to us powerfully of the vicissitudes of human life, and of the changes that are taking place around us yearly, nay, hourly.

What anxiety and distress, what joy and what pain, have not these old walls witnessed.

How many hearts have beat high with hope, or have been racked with anguish in the thoughtful gloom of many of these shadowy rooms.

Bacon himself, though he bore so brave a front before the world, must have had many torturing recollections and regrets as he paced up and down these ancient chambers. But then, again, what noble thoughts came to cheer and support him as he overcame the keenness of his pain, and fixed his mind on objects higher and grander than the passing events of human life.

Thus generation after generation pass away, with all their joys and all their fears.

Each human being departs, and his name is no more known even in the spot where he dwelt; but still the great squadrons of mankind are ever advancing, with the same delights, the same anxieties as those who have left this earth many hundreds of years ago; thus every place is filled and emptied, and filled again in endless rotation.

Truly life is but a magic-lantern, and the players therein are but fleeting shadows.

Bacon died on Easter Sunday, the 9th of April, 1626, being then sixty-six years of age.

In the December previous he had with his own hand written his will. In it he writes:

"For my burial, I desire it may be in St. Michael's Church near St. Albans. There was my mother buried, and it is the parish church of my mansion house at Gorhambury, and it is the only Christian church within the walls of Old Verulam. For my name and memory, I leave it to men's charitable speeches, and to foreign nations, and to the next ages."

SIR NICHOLAS BACON.

Sir Nicholas Bacon, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal during the greater part of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was born at Chislehurst, in Kent, in 1510.

Few men have enjoyed during a long and brilliant career a more unblemished reputation for probity, or have conducted themselves in troubled and dangerous times with more prudence and good discretion than this celebrated statesman and judge.

He received his first rudiments of learning at home, and at a small village school in the neighbourhood of his father's house; but when still very young he was sent to Corpus Christi College, Cambridge.

Here he made great progress in all branches of useful knowledge, and then travelled over France, making some stay in Paris, in order, as an old chronicler remarks, "to give the last polish to his education."

Either this last polish or his natural gifts enabled him to turn his speeches with singular aptitude and felicity. Though resolute in proposing and carrying out any measure he deemed advisable, he spoke with so much prudence and tact, that he ever succeeded in retaining the good will even of his opponents.

This is all the more remarkable, for never, perhaps, did party feeling run so high, never was party animosity more bitter, both with regard to politics and also on religious subjects, than during this period, when England was convulsed by the tremendous changes that were taking place in the Church, and by the savage persecutions that had been endured and inflicted both by Protestants and by Roman Catholics.

Alas! that men, while calling themselves Christians, should so distort and make of none effect the first principles of our Divine Teacher!

When Bacon returned from Paris he settled in Gray's Inn, and applied himself with such assiduity to the study of the law, that he speedily became of note amongst the learned in that profession. His profound knowledge of many difficult points of law enabled him to be useful not only to the Government but also to the King (Henry VIII.), insomuch that, on the dissolution of the Monastery of Bury St. Edmund's, in Suffolk, King Henry conferred upon him several manors in that county.

Two years afterwards he was promoted to the office of Attorney of Wards, an appointment of both honour and profit.

Edward VI. confirmed him in this post, and in the last year of that King's reign Bacon was elected treasurer of Gray's Inn.

His great moderation and his consummate prudence preserved him safely during the dangerous reign of Queen Mary, although he was well known to be a staunch Protestant.

No sooner did Elizabeth come to the throne, however, than he was knighted, and the Great Seals of England having been taken from Nicholas Heath, Archbishop of York, they were delivered to Sir Nicholas Bacon in November, 1558, with the title of Lord Keeper.

It is much to the credit of Sir Nicholas that he himself introduced a Bill into Parliament for the purpose of defining and settling the position of Lord Keeper; although, had he chosen to be silent, and to procure for himself the additional title of Lord Chancellor, he might have obtained almost unlimited power.

But his motto was, and ever had been, "_Mediocra firma_." He was content to be safe, and did not desire greatness.

Unlike many celebrated men, he was unaffectedly modest, and devoid of self-seeking, so that while it was said of some other great personages that they seemed wiser than they were, the common voice of the nation agreed in this, that Sir Nicholas Bacon was even wiser than he seemed.

To the Queen he was indeed a most valuable minister, and a most trusty counsellor, for not only was he as a statesman remarkable for a clear head, and wise, farseeing sagacity, but he had marvellous skill in balancing factions, and it was thought he taught the Queen this same secret, the more important to Elizabeth, for being, as Her Majesty was, the last of her family, she was without those supports that are ordinarily incidental to Princes.

In Chancery, also, Bacon much distinguished himself by the very moderate use he made of power, and by the great respect he ever showed for the Common Law. But better than all, in an age of bigotry, when religious differences aroused in men every violent and cruel passion, Bacon showed that though his own religious opinions were strong, he could speak and act on that, as on all other subjects, with moderation and with strict equity.

The main business of the session of January, 1559, was the settlement of religious observances, and no man had a greater share in this momentous and difficult question than the Lord Keeper.

The speeches he made at this period are described by many contemporary writers as "most eloquent, solid, and excellent speeches;" and at this day we can perceive that they were, as another old chronicler observes, "models of eloquence, profound wisdom, and conciliatory discretion."

Few men have left behind them so delightful a character as this famous statesman and lawyer.

Powerful and wise in public life, in his home he was the tender father, the affectionate relative, the indulgent and unostentatious friend.

Though endowed with a keen appreciation of art, and gifted with a fine and graceful taste, as appeared by his house and gardens at Gorhambury, yet he never permitted himself to indulge in an undue or lavish expenditure. So simple and modest was he in this respect, that, when the Queen came to visit him at Redgrave, Her Majesty said she found the house too small for so great a man.

"Nay, madam," said the Chancellor, "but it is your Majesty who has made me too great for my house."

Yet, with his usual graceful tact and ready acquiescence in the wishes of his Royal Mistress, he immediately built two small wings to his house.

His health began to fail during the later years of his life, and he became distressingly corpulent; but he was as diligent in his work, and his temper remained as kind, and his wit as bright as ever.

After having held the Great Seal more than twenty years, this able statesman and faithful counsellor was suddenly removed from this life by the following accident:

He was under the hands of his barber, and the weather being rather sultry, although February, Sir Nicholas, who suffered much from heat by reason of his great size, caused the window before him to be opened. He presently fell asleep, but after a time, a current of cold air blowing upon him, he awoke shivering and feeling very ill.

"Why," said he to his servant, "did you suffer me to sleep thus exposed?"

The man replied that he durst not venture to disturb him.

"Then," said the Lord Keeper, "by your civility I lose my life." And so indeed it proved. He was removed immediately to his bed-chamber, and was tended with loving care, but he expired a very few days after being taken ill.

Sir Nicholas was twice married. By his first wife, Jane, daughter of William Fernley, he had three sons, who died young, and three daughters.

By his second wife, Anne, daughter of Sir Anthony Cooke, a woman distinguished alike for her beauty, her piety, and her learning, he had two sons, of whom the youngest, Francis, became so celebrated as Chancellor, philosopher, and writer; a man whose exceptionally brilliant gifts have thrown comparatively into the shade the far more elevated character of his father.

Happy would it have been for the son, if, with his father's talents, he had inherited his father's unswerving integrity and noble sense of honour.

Far happier would have been the closing years of Lord Bacon's life had he, like his father, Sir Nicholas, dealt righteously with all men.

SIR WILLIAM GASCOIGNE.

It is not unusual to find amongst ancient families that the same Christian name is retained from generation to generation, constantly descending for centuries in unbroken succession.

Sometimes this name is preserved in memory of a distinguished ancestor. Sometimes from respect to some prince or powerful patron who had conferred honour or lands upon the family.

Many have supposed that the name of William came to this country at the time of the Norman Conquest. It has been ascertained, however, that long before that date it was in common use in Saxon families, especially amongst those who inhabited the Northern Counties.

This name William is a German word, and, according to Martin Luther, of compound meaning.

_Helm_, signifying "defence;" and _Kenhelm_, "Defence of kindred."

_Willy_, _Villi_, or _Billi_ with the Germans, like _Poly_ amongst the Greeks, before several names indicates "many," consequently _Wilhelm_, now softened into _William_, means "Much defence" or "Defence of many."

Not only did the Normans, who had settled here when their Duke became King of England, call their sons after their victorious sovereign, but many of the old lords of the soil, who, wearied with Harold's tyranny, had gladly welcomed the advent of the foreign prince, gave their children the name now so much in vogue. In addition to this compliment to their new King, some of the Saxon Thanes and great landed proprietors moulded their rougher Northern surnames into courtly Norman terminations.

Thus Gaskin, an old West Riding family, Normanised itself into Gascoigne.

As time went on, this Royal name of William was regularly transmitted from father to son amongst those families who depended upon the Conqueror or his line, or who had received gifts of offices, lands, seignories, or privileges, until in a few years it became so common amongst those of high rank, that at a certain festival given at the Court of King Henry II., when Sir William St. John and Sir William Fitz-Hamon, two especial officers, commanded that none "but those of the name of William should dine in the Great Chamber with them," they were accompanied by a hundred and twenty Williams, all knights.

Sir William Gascoigne, Chief Justice of the King's Bench in 1401, the second year of the reign of King Henry IV., was the eighth Sir William in lineal descent, and was succeeded, as we learn from Dugdale and Fuller, by seven more Sir Williams, all knights.

The Chief Justice was born in 1350, _temp._ Edward III., at Gawthorp, in the parish of Harwood, between Leeds and Knaresborough.

Sir William was the eldest of five brothers. He married twice: first, Elizabeth, daughter and heiress of Alexander Mowbray, and by her had an only son, Sir William Gascoigne, of Gawthorp, a brave commander in the wars under King Henry V. His descendant, the last Sir William of this branch, married Beatrice, daughter of Sir Richard Tempest, and had four sons, all of whom died young, and one daughter, Margaret, his sole heir, in whom the Gascoignes of this line terminated. This daughter married, in 1552, Thomas Wentworth, of Wentworth Woodhouse, in Yorkshire, and brought great estates into that family. Thomas Wentworth was Sheriff for Yorkshire in the twenty-fourth year of Queen Elizabeth, and had, besides four daughters, an only son, who became afterwards Sir William Wentworth, and was the father of Thomas, first Earl of Strafford.

The Chief Justice married, secondly, Joan, daughter of Sir William Pickering, and widow of Sir Ralph Graystock, Baron of the Exchequer. By this marriage Sir William had also an only son, James Gascoigne, settled at Cardington, in Bedfordshire. A descendant of this James Gascoigne, the inheritrix of Cardington, married her distant cousin William, a younger son of the Gascoignes of Gawthorp.

This William Gascoigne was Sheriff for Bedfordshire in 1506, _temp._ King Henry VII., and was Sheriff for Buckinghamshire in the fifth year of King Henry VIII. He was subsequently knighted by Henry VIII., and became Comptroller of the Household to Cardinal Wolsey; for the great Cardinal in many respects affected Royal state, and succeeded in having the chief offices of his household held by nobles, or by men of gentle birth. This branch of the Gascoignes also terminated in a daughter, Dorothy, who married Sir Jarrett Harvye; thus the direct descendants of the famous Chief Justice became merged in other families. Of collateral descendants, however, there are many; Nicholas Gascoigne of Lavingcroft, Sir William's next brother, having left a numerous family of sons and daughters, who married amongst the Percys, Latimers, Vavasours, etc.

From the eldest son of this Nicholas descended a somewhat celebrated man, Richard Gascoigne, who was not only a learned antiquary and collector, but who has done good service to the history of this country by having brought before the public in 1638 Mr. Dugdale, whose writings have given much interesting and important information.

The greater part of the valuable collections made by Richard Gascoigne is now at Wentworth Woodhouse, Yorkshire. There are also relics of the Gascoigne family at Ickwellbury, Bedfordshire.

William Gascoigne became a student of the Law at Gray's Inn, and was early enrolled a member of that learned Society. His career was both brilliant and rapid. Towards the end of the reign of King Richard II. he was already so eminent in his profession that, in 1398, he was made one of the King's Serjeants.

There are records of many transactions at this period, all of which give proof, not only of Gascoigne's great abilities as a lawyer, but also testify to the esteem in which he was held on account of the fidelity and uprightness of his advice, and the invariable justice of his decisions. His great merits caused him to be appointed one of the Commissioners for Henry of Lancaster, Duke of Hereford, when this Prince was about to go into banishment.

Gascoigne had to watch over the interests and receive all moneys that might come to the Duke during his absence from England. A most onerous appointment, involving not only considerable difficulty but also no inconsiderable danger, for in those turbulent days the law of might frequently warred most successfully against the law of right.

So early as the second year of the reign of King Henry IV., Gascoigne was made Chief Justice of the King's Bench, and we find that in 1403 Judge Gascoigne and Ralph Nevill, Earl of Westmoreland, were commissioned by the King to levy and assemble forces in the counties of York and Northumberland in order to quell the insurrection of Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland.

Somewhat later these Commissioners were also empowered to treat with this same rebellious Earl.

When Archbishop Scrope and others were taken in arms against the King, His Majesty would have had Gascoigne immediately to give sentence of death against the contumacious Archbishop; but the Chief Justice refused, resolutely declaring he would not pronounce such a sentence in so irregular and illegal a manner. This refusal brought upon him the King's high displeasure, but the people praised him much for his justice and his moderation.

Again, when certain abbots, priors, knights, esquires, and other persons of distinction had been wrongfully accused, and were suffering imprisonment in consequence of the evidence of a perjured witness, Sir William detected the fraud. He then caused the false witness to be exposed and condemned, and obtained the release of the guiltless persons.

About this time, also, attorneys, by reason of their multitude, and from their malpractices, had grown to be a public nuisance. Chief Justice Gascoigne caused an Act to be passed limiting their number in every county. They had also to swear every Term that they would deal faithfully and truly by their clients, and could it be proved that they had not done so they were liable to be imprisoned for a twelve-month and condemned to pay a ransom according to the King's pleasure.

In the abstract of the Parliament rolls there is a lone insertion made of a curious and important case referred in part to the judgment of the Chief Justice. William, Lord Roos of Hamalake, brought an action against Sir Robert Therwit, one of the Justices of the King's Bench, inasmuch as he had withheld certain manors and commons in the county of Lincoln, and that he had lain in wait with five hundred men to seize or apprehend the said Lord. Sir Robert confessed his fault before the King, and offered to abide by the award of two Lords of the complainant's kindred.

These two Lords made a long judgment, and amongst other items enjoined that Sir Robert should make a great feast at Milton-le-Roos. That for this feast he should prepare two fat oxen, twelve sheep, two tuns of Gascon wine, and other provisions. That he should then assemble there all such knights, esquires, and yeomen as had been his accomplices. That they should then confess their fault to Lord Roos, craving his pardon, and offering him five hundred marks as compensation. Lord Roos should refuse this sum, but he should pardon them, and partake of their dinner.

The arbitration respecting the land however, which was the point of the greatest difficulty, was to be referred to Sir William Gascoigne, the Chief Justice.

But the event which became so noticeable in legal and in historical annals, is a remarkable circumstance that has been described by many writers, namely, his having committed the Heir Apparent to the Throne, Prince Henry, to prison for contempt of Court.

A story so extraordinary has of course been seized upon by dramatists and poets, who have so embellished the original history, that they have caused the fact to be doubted by some. However, the affair has been too simply related by some of our best historians and other grave writers to permit reasonable doubts that the circumstance did actually take place as recorded.

It appears that a servant of Prince Henry's being arraigned at Westminster before Chief Justice Gascoigne for felony, the Prince, hearing of the matter, came hastily into Court, and commanded that his follower should be unfettered and set at liberty immediately.

This demand was refused, the Chief Justice exhorting the Prince to be patient, for his servant was to be tried according to the ancient laws of the realm, adding that even in case the rigour of the law should condemn the accused, His Highness might still obtain the gracious pardon of the King, his father.

Far from being appeased by this answer, the anger of the Prince seemed only the more inflamed, and striding fiercely to the Bar, he endeavoured to rescue the prisoner by force.

Thereupon the Judge, with admirable courage and intrepidity, commanded the Prince to forbear and to depart on his way; but the Prince's rage at being thus thwarted made him quite beside himself, and, turning hastily towards the Bench, he either struck, or endeavoured to strike, the Chief Justice.

At so unparalleled an insult the Court was stricken with horror, and many threw themselves around the Judge, fearing the Prince was about to slay him, but Sir William, nothing moved by the affront that had been offered to him, nor by the peril in which he was placed, never stirred from his seat, and with dignified calm, and with a bold and assured countenance, said to the Prince:

"Sir, remember yourself. I keep here the place of your Sovereign Lord and father, to whom you owe double obedience. Wherefore in his name I charge you, desist from your wilfulness, and from this unlawful enterprise. From henceforth give good example to them, who hereafter will be your own subjects. And now, for your contempt and disobedience, go you to the prison of the King's Bench, whereunto I commit you, and remain there a prisoner, until the pleasure of the King your father be further known."

So dignified was the Judge's bearing, so noble and calm were his few coercive sentences, wherein were combined the paternal authority of the King, and the awful gravity of the Judge, that the Prince was instantly subdued.

His Highness at once laid aside his weapon, and doing reverence to the Court, he straightway withdrew, and submitted to the disgraceful punishment--a punishment degrading indeed to a Prince, the Heir Apparent to the Throne, but well merited from the outrageous insult that had led to it.

When some officious persons represented the affair to the King in such a manner that His Majesty might well have taken offence at it, the wise monarch, the wise father, defeated the ill-will of the informers by "thanking God, who had given him not only a judge who could minister, but also a son who could obey justice."

Prince Henry had been carefully educated and governed at the University of Oxford, and was afterwards for some years engaged with his father's armies in stilling the commotions constantly taking place on the borders of Wales. He seems to have done well also when first appointed President of the Council, for again our old chronicler tells us that the Commons voted him thanks for his good employment of the treasure; but, unhappily, before his Royal father's death he abandoned himself to dissolute courses, and made discreditable associates his intimate companions and friends.

After his father's death, however, on ascending the throne as Henry V., he discarded his unworthy followers, and applied himself with both assiduity and talent to the government of his kingdom.

We learn from Tressel's continuation of "Daniel's Collection of the History of England, 1641," that the King, addressing himself to his former friends, said:

"It was sufficient that for many years he had fashioned himself according to their unruly dispositions, and had wandered with them in a wilderness of riot and unthriftiness; whereby he had made himself almost an alien to the hearts of his father and allies, and had so disparaged himself, that in the eyes of mankind his presence was grown vulgar and stale, and like the cuckoo in June, was heard but not regarded." The King then proceeds to relate in brief, that when one of his associates was summoned before the Lord Chief Justice he had interposed, and had even struck the Judge, and that for this offence he had deservedly been committed to prison by the Chief Justice. The King thus terminates his speech: "For which act of justice I shall ever hold him worthy of the place and of my favour. I wish all my judges to have the like undaunted courage to punish offenders of what rank soever."

It is greatly to the honour of Henry V. that the brave and good old Chief Justice retained his post until age and infirmities compelled him to relinquish it.