Leyton Hall : and other tales

Front matter

i'iU

NDS' MACASSAR OIL

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Contents

CHAP. PAG I

X. — THE SCRIVENER OF BREAD STREET I

II. — TAVERN TALK - - - 12

Chapter I. The Scrivener Of Bread Street

T was two o'clock on November the 3rd, . The

wind from the river swept in cold gusts through New Palace Yard, at Westminster, and the leaden clouds above hung low and rain-laden. Notwithstanding the dreary and uncomfortable state of the weather, groups of men were standing about, some seeking shelter from the wind behind the buttresses of the old Hall ; others, with their short cloaks wrapped closely around their shoulders, crouched behind the conduit, whose trickling waters were occasionally scattered like raindrops by the gusty wind. Grooms were leading about pad horses, whose long tails, depressed as they were between their hindquarters, fluttered in the breeze like tattered streamers. Whenever anyone came forth from the Hall, men's faces were turned towards him, and speculation became rife among the gazers.

"The House sits later than I thought for, Master Goring,"

said a white-haired man in a dark suit of cloth, to another

who appeared of the middle class — a trader, perhaps from

the City of London.

"I thought they would have risen an hour agone,' replied the man addressed ; " but it's likely that one of the right sort i.as got the ear of the House, and is telling it our grievances. Heaven knows they are many enow to take time in the telling."

'• Past two o'clock,'' said the first speaker, looking at a ponderous watch which he carried in a side-pocket of his doublet. " I shall tarry no longer, but back to the city. Wilt take a cast in my wherry, Master Goring ? "

" I thank thee, no," replied Goring ; " I shall bide the end o" the sitting, as to-day's doings will be a straw to show which way the wind is to blow for many days to come, I fancy.'' The two men shook hands and parted.

" Do you know yon gentleman that has just come forth ?" asked Goring, of a bystander. " He must be of the court party, by his gay plumage."

" Yea, friend ; 'tis Sir Philip Warwick, a good gentleman enough in the main, but a coxcomb withal. He speaks to Master Edward Leyton, who comes out of my county, Darby shire."

The two gentlemen referred to by the speakers strolled leisurely across the open space, and appeared to be making for the stairs, where several barges and wherries were in waiting, despite the coldness of the day.

" You have had a long sitting, Sir Philip," said Master Leyton ; " what has caused it ?"

"A bear-baiting, or something akin to it," replied Sir Philip ; for some of our new members are more fitted to hound on a mastiff at the Blind Bear than to address a conclave of gentlemen."

" So much I gathered as I walked in the hall, where I had appointed to meet my scrivener ; but I was an hour behind time, and so lost my man. I overheard some sourlaced knaves exulting in what was to happen. Their man seemed to be the member for Cambridge. Who is he?" asked Leyton.

"An ill-conditioned fellow, to judge by his outward man," replied Sir Philip, " though of gentle blood enough. He was speaking when I left the House. You must have heard of the man, Cromwell — Oliver Cromwell ?"

'■ What, that disloyal knave ! " cried Leyton. " I never saw the man ; but he is always ready, I have heard, to stir up strife, and to claim strange privileges for the people. What manner ot man is he ? "

The Scrivener of Dread Street. 3

"When I entered the House," replied Sir Philip, " I saw a gentleman was speaking, very ordinarily apparelled, for it was a plain cloth suit, which seemed to have been made by an ill country tailor ; his linen was plain, and not very clean, and 1 was struck by a spot or two of blood upon his little band, which was not much larger than his collar. His hat was without a band, his stature of good size, his sword stuck close to his side, his countenance swollen and reddish, his voice sharp and untuneable, and his eloquence was full of fervour, for the subject-matter would not bear much of reason."*

" I' faith ! thou hast noted him wcl', Sir Ph lip," said Leyton.

" Yes ; and the fellow will be heard of either as a politician, or — a brewer of double ale," replied Sir Philip, laughing. '■ He presented a petition from that outspoken rogue, John Lilburne, the sturdy London 'prentice, who hath been whipped and imprisoned for circulating the Hisiriomaslix, and other scandals of the scurrilous Prynne. There were other petitions from like fellows, but I escaped, and am now for the three o'clock ordinary at Spring Gardens. Wilt with

" V faith ! I more incline to a good dinner than a cold voyage in a Thames wherry,''" replied Leyton; "but the business I have on hand presses, and I have already missed my scrivener once to-day. One word at parting. I am no great politician, Sir Philip, but I bode evil days from this license of speech now permitted. I would, if I had a place in the House, cry out against such boldness as is now common, or some of us will have to 'boot and saddle' before we we are many years older."

Sir Philip shrugged his shoulders. "There must be work on Tower Hill before that, perhaps, Master Leyton. In the meantime I shall make the most of the present, and — it is a quarter to three o'clock. God'den."

Leyton returned his salute and then walked to the stairs, his presence provoking the usual clamour among the watermen who contended for his custom.

The tide was fortunately running down, as the awning of the boat which Leyton had selected afforded but sliyht protection against the wind. The pair of oar-, however, made

* See Sir Philip Warwick's "Memoirs," pp. 246, 247.

a Leyton Hall.

short work of the distance between Westminster and Paul's Wharf, where Leyton landed, and then made the best of his way to a scrivener's in Bread Street.

The scrivener was the same persons as had spoken to Master Goring in Palace Yard. Leyton apologised for his want of punctuality in keeping his appointment, and was assured that the detention was of small consequence, inasmuch as the scrivener's curiosity to learn the result of the long morning's sitting of the newly assembled Parliament had made him in no hurry to return to the city. The scrivener asked Leyton if he had heard aught of the matter debated.

" There has been a stormy sitting, as I learned from Sir Philip Warwick, and much that sounded like treason, to my thinking," replied Leyton ; who then repeated, in part, the conversation he had had with his friend.

" I guessed as much," said the old scrivener, sadly. "We are at the beginning of evil days, Sir ; unless more pains are taken to avoid them than has been done of late."

" I am of your opinion," replied Leyton.

" But our governors lack the wisdom to do so, I fear me," said the scrivener, with a deep sigh. " Woe to those who drive matters to extremity, and set brother against brother, as in the days of the Roses ! "

" Again I am with you," replied Leyton ; " but better hard knocks and cracked crowns, than this continued fret and perilous uncertainty."

" A civil war is a frightful calamity," said the old man ; " and to that we are hastening. The people against their king. Woe to those who make the necessity for such a bloody arbitration ! "

" And such, I take it, are those who countenance rude praters like Master Cromwell and his fellows," replied Leyton, warmly.

"Then, were a civil contest to arise, you would side against the people ? " asked the scrivener, abruptly.

" I would chop off my right hand rather than draw sword for such malcontents," answered Leyton ; adding, " And so would every true English gentleman. God bless the king ! "

The old scrivener continued silent for a few moments, seemingly trimming a pen, but in reality, struggling to suppress words which he knew it might be unsafe to utter

" Well Master Leyton," he said, at length, "we will end this

The Scrivener of Bread Street. 5

unprofitable talk, and to your business. I trust not to make further transfers of your good acres ? "

"Yes," replied Leyton ; "but not to satisfy the greed of usurers, albeit to assist in the consummation of what many would think the greatest folly I have yet committed." " I listen," said the scrivener, after a short pause. "I am about to marry," continued Leyton, "and some men call that folly. But I — I have the fairest, gentlest, noblest excuse for it that ever man had. The lady has a fair dowry that I desire to be settled upon herself. Here, on this paper, I have set clown the amount and all other needful particulars."

The scrivener took the proffered paper, and, having read it carefully, said: —

" I give you my gratulations, Master Leyton, on such a promising union. Mistress Maud Netherby comes of a goodly stock — a very goodly stock."

" By the tone of your speech, my old friend," replied Leyton, " you seem to think the luck is all on one side, and that is mine. Is'tso?"

" Not altogether as you say," answered the scrivener ; " and you must pardon what I am about to advise. My cousin — younger than me by some half-score years — was thy mother, Master Leyton ; and so, in some case, thou art of my blood, and blood, it is said, is thicker than water. I had a strong love for thy mother also, and that — pardon me — has, in part, descended to her son. Your generous nature has made you wasteful of your means, and what you said but now, assures me that you will be equally prodigal of life and safety should the unrelenting folly and oppression of our rulers drive the people to rebellion. Pray hear me out. A resolved people must be conquerors in the end, and victors are not always generous or just. Let me advise, then, that for the sake of thy wife and of the children that may be born to ye, Mistress Leyton's dowry be charged upon your own estate."

" Ha ! ha ! " Leyton laughed. " Thou mayst sp?.re thy breath, old friend. I came for that purpose also, knowing how I have been tempted, and might be again. Here is set down what I desire to be conveyed to her and the Leytons in future — nearly all that I have left, except our old Manor House, Leyton Hall, and enough of acres to make it seem unlike a prison."

The old scrivener, having read the paper, took Leyt n's hand and pressed it kindly, saying :

" You have acted wisely — generously ; and should you keep in the same mind as to the cause you will elect to serve in this common strife — for come it will, unless God, in His good p.ovidence, take away the makers of the people's discontent— thou wilt have preserved to those you are bound to love what otherwise might have been sacrificed."

" I do not share your fears, old friend, even if rebellion stalks the land," replied Leyton. " But let the deeds be drawn. I am impatient to get home again, and would fain take with me your sheepskins. It is rough travelling at this time of \ ear in Derbyshire, and I have no wish to put ice and snow between me and my ladye-love."

" I have an abstract of your property," replied the scrivener, " and by the dav after the morrow all shall be ready."

As there were other clients waiting an audience with the scrivener, Master Leyton took his departure, and shortly afterwards entered the Mermaid tavern to satisfy a very excellent hunger which oppressed him.

At the time appointed, Master Leyton was again in the scrivener's house in Bread Street, and found th: deeds awaiting his approval and signature.

" They will require a witness to their due execution," said the scrivener, " and I will go seek one."

The old man left the room, and returned shortly, accompanied by a gentleman of about two-and-thirty. His hair was long, and curled upon his shoulders. His fine face, brilliant eyes, and magnificent head, gave assurance of no common man.

" This is my son, Master Leyton," said the scrivener, " who chances to be with me, and he will attest your signature."

Leyton instantly rose up and bowed with unaffec ed reverence, scarcely having power to say : "I am honoured, indeed, by such a witness."

The old scrivener then read aloud the conten's of the two deeds, and when he had ended, Leyton affixed his tignature in due form.

The witness then attested, and wrote in bold characters John Milton — a name to become a household word wherever men s.pokc ''his land's language." The old House— wc had

The Scrivener cf Eiead Street. )

ulnio^t written Temple — in Bread Street has nearly perished, one room only being preserved, and forming part of an adjoining warehouse. It is still remembered as " Milton's Room."

Master Leyton set out for Deibyshire on the following day, and though he and his serving-man Reuben Studley, were well mounted; they did not reach the Manor House at Leyton until after a week's hard riding.

Hut then Edward Leyton was to be rewarded for that long and perilous journey before the great Hall put on its Christmas garnishing of holly and ivy green. Maud Netherby was to be mistress at the Hall ; and of the long line of Mistress Ley tons which had preceded her, none could have been fairer or more worthy of a husband's love. And so perfect was Leyton's happiness, that for a while he closed his ears to the rumours which reached even into Derbyshire, of the troublous doings which were disturbing men's minds in almost every part of England. There were stirring " newes " at times which curdled men's blood, or roused the anger of the loyal adherents to kingly prerogative.

Edward Leyton, when he heard those rumours of wars, reproached himself for his disloyalty in not joining the standard of his king ; but then he had been married not two short years, and his little Alice just learned to cad him father. But he could not rest in Derbyshire. No ; he and his wife should go to London for awhile, leaving their child with the careful nurse who had had charge of it from its birth — and the separation was the first great sorrow Maud ha.l ever known.

" A month will soon pass, darling," said Leyton, as he held his wife's tear-covered face between his hands, " and then you shall return ; but to London I must go — for— for very weighty reasons. Shall I go alone ?"

" No, dearest," replied Maud, throwing her arms around her husband's neck. " You would be so lonely now in that great city. Would you not ? "

" Truly yes, love."

"And Alice will be well cared for, and nurse G.bson will send us a post in a fortnight with news of home affairs ; so that will make our separation seem of less account. Kiss me."

Master L<vton was a good husband and did a? he was bidden. The next day at sunrise, the horses which were to convey the travellers to London were at the door. Maud was a good horsewoman, and could manage her pretty grev gelding to admiration ; but twenty miles a day over rough roads were more than Leyton would permit her to encounter in the side-saddle. Reuben Studley was, therefore, mounted on a strong roadster, that looked like a likely charger, should his master need such at any time ; and behind him was a well-stuffed pillion with a footboard, so that Mistress Leyton might sit as easily almost as in her cushioned chair at Leyton Hall.

Her pretty face was stained by tears, and her bright hazel eyes were filled with tears also, and their pretty lids were red from weeping, and their long lashes were wet and glittering with the water which had welled up from her maternal heart. But Leyton wisely took no apparent notice of her sorrow, but kissed her, as he handed her up to the horse-block that she might mount with ease behind the favoured Reuben. Somewhat like Chaucer's " Wife of Bath," upon her pillion

"Easilie she satte Ywimpled well and on her hed a hatte "

whilst a long cloth robe lined with white rabbits' skins covered her body and feet, so as to bid defiance to the sharp October wind blowing up the avenue of old elms right into the Hall, making sundry pikes and swords and sylvan weapons jingle on the walls. As the cavalcade (the word, though somewhat hackneyed, is expressive) passed down the avenue, the rooks, which had long colonised in the old trees, rose up from them and made a noisy chorus, as though bidding Master Leyton farewell, if not a God speed.

Maud with her cavalier and Leyton led the way, whilst behind followed a horse-boy on a stout galloway, and leading a sumpter-horse laden with the lady's and the master's .body-gear. Also with two leather bottles, one filled with Canary wine, and the other with a compound of strong waters, prepared according to a family recipe, and held to be infallible in the cure of catarrhs and the colic. There was also a bag of manchcts for the lady's eating, and some slices of brawn, a neat's tongue, and a cold capon, stowed away

The Scrivener of Bread Street. 9

in two small panniers, to be ready for an emergency. These were needful precautions for a journey of some hundred and thirty odd miles, when Charles the First was king, and long after. The roadside inns were not always provided with other than the coarse fare which satisfied such wayfarers as farmers and hucksters of all sorts, who were generally hungry enough to have eaten their spur-leathers, provided they could have washed the provender down with plenty of thick glutinous ale from a black jack, whose very reek would have intoxicated a modern fine gentleman.

As the party made progress, Leyton was distressed to hear how unpopular the king had become, and not without reason it seemed, if the grievances of which men complained were real and not imaginary. However much Leyton might be disposed to admit the reasonableness of much of the discontent which reached his ears, he was too loyal by education and prejudice to feel other than a stronger desire to throw in his fortunes with the king. And he would do so, when he had learned in London in what manner service could be best rendered to his master's cause.

Master Leyton had had some sore experience of tavern charges in his youthful days, and though it was necessary to put up at the Bell Inn, in Aldersgate, on his arrival in London, he had determined to find lodgings with some reputable person as soon as possible. His friend Mr. Milton was, therefore, consulted, and some pleasant lodgings in Clerkenwell, from which there was a view over the open fields of Islington and Highgate, were secured for the month which was to be passed in London.

Maud had never been in the great city, and her surprise and admiration were continually excited by what she saw around her. The stores of wealth in the traders' booths — the innumerable houses stretching on all sides of her — the great river Thames, covered with its gay barges and wherries — the vast St. Paul's, with its ages of histories — the conduits casting their jets of water from morning till night, and some with quaint devices playing on bells, and so marking the flight of time. Then the playhouses and shows where other causes of wonder and delight, as Maud thought what pleasure she should some day give her darling Alice by recitals of all sh Nad seen in marvellous London.

As Leyton and his wife °.d both connexions living in the city and suburbs, time was ..lever unemployed, and but for the unsettled state of public affairs, this London visit won d have been one of those "greenest spots," to be recalled in ;if:er years, with all its pleasant memories, when the sky is dark and the storm is raging.

Maud's beauty and Leyton's free, honest, and cheerful bearing, drew around them many of the idlers about the town, and before two weeks had passed, the lady had become a toast, and her husband the prince of good fellows.

But such pleasant da>/s were not to last. The contention between the king and the Commons grew fiercer every day. The Attorney-General appeared at the bar of the House of Lords and accused Lord Kimbolton, and five members of the House of Commons, of high treason. The resistance of the accused led to graver complications, and at last the king, accompanied by three or four hundred armed men, entered Westminster Hall, and demanded the five gentlemen impeached, calling Mr. Pym and Mr. Holies by name, but no answer was made. When the king left the House, the members sat mute for a few seconds, and the cry of '• Privilege " burst forth, and the House instantly adjourned.

The alarm in the City was general, and Leyton and those, his friends, who were known to side with t'he king, stood in some danger, as it was rumoured that the cavaliers were coming to fire the city. The king going to Westminster " in a warlike manner '' roused the popular indignation, and committees were appointed to sit, one at Merchant Taylors' Hall, and another at Grocers' Hall. The king, resolute in his determination to maintain his prerogatives, rode into the City without a guard — to show his affection, he said, and to assure them that he should proceed against the men accused of treason in a legal way, for which reason he called upon the citizens to give them no shelter in the city. But, as Clarendon records, " he departed without that applause and cheerfulness which he might have expected from the extraordinary grace he vouchsafed to them." As the king passed along Cheapside, attended only by his master of the horse and a few lacqueys, on his way back to Whitehall, Leyton stood bareheaded opposite Bow Church and made a respectful obeisance, which was acknowledged by a royal smile. As he continued to gaze after the king, his eyes fell on the old scrivener and his son, who remained co\ered, and indeed scarcely looked in the direction of the royal party. Le\ ton was annoved at what he felt to be a marked bhuw of

Tlie Scrivener of Bread Sheet. 1 1

disloyalty, and he resolved to rebuke it. With this intention he followed the scrivener and his son into their house in Bread Street, where he always met with a kindly welcome.

" Art thou from Guildhall ? " asked the scrivener ; " as I hear, the king met with a cold reception."

'■ Not only in the Hall, Master Milton," replied Leyton, " but in the goodly street of Cheap, where such men as thou and thy most worthy son gave him scant homage."

" I only pay homage," said the scrivener, " where I acknowledge worthiness. Would that I could lend thee my eyes and my understanding, and so win thee from a bad cause."

" If there is to be a choice of action," said Leyton, " I hold to my allegiance, which some good men in all else seem to put off like their gloves."

" Is there no allegiance due to the people ? " asked the scrivener.

" The pople ! " repeated Leyton, contemptuously.

" Ay, the people, Sir," said the scrivener's son, who had hitherto remained silent. " The king, as all other kings have done, holds his authority from the people for their good, and not his own. Then may people, as oft as they shall judge it for the best, either choose him or reject him, retain him or depose him, though no tyrant, merely by the right of free born men to be governed as seems to them best."* These opinions he supported with Scriptural quotations, to ihe confusion of Leyton, who could give no reasons for his devoted adherence to the king, further than that as he came ol a loyal race he required no other inducement to peril life and fortune, like a true English gentleman. He could only urge that as the Parliament had invaded the rights of the Crown by the passing of the Militia Bill, he should prefer the rule of one to the tyranny of many.

* Milton's " Tenure of Kings," paragraph 17.

Chapter II. Tavern Talk

|HE circumstances which followed the assembling of the Parliament of 1640 — the Long Parliament, as it came to be called— are so well known, as scarcely to need recapitulation. An alliance had been entered into with the Scotch ; bill after bill had passed the House of Commons, by which the assumed prerogatives of the king had been greatly curtailed ; bishops had been excluded from Parliament and all sway in temporal affairs, and clergymen removed from the commission of the peace. Laud had been sent to the Tower, Strafford executed, to the shame of his ungrateful master, Essex made general for the Parliament, and the king's standard had been set up at Nottingham, as we have already recorded. A few days were to bring on the fatal fight of Edge Hill, when the slain would be counted by thousands.

" Times grow worse and worse, neighbour," said John Ingrain, a mercer in Cheap.

" Nay, neighbour, rather say better," answered Ralph Clicker, the cordvvainer ; "better as every day clips our tyrant's claws."

" I know no tyrants," replied John, " but these howling Independents."

" Of whom I am one, neighbour Ingrain," said the cordvainer.

" More shame of thee to confess to such disloyal connexions," answered John Ingrain. " You and your fellows

Tavern Talk. ij

would let no man have a free conscience to think and act for himself, but "

" Tut ! tut ! " said the cordwainer, " you shall not anger me. We have lived good neighbours these twenty year, and may so still."

" Not a day longer, Ralph Clicker," cried John Ingrain, whose ledger showed the good reason he had for standing by the Whitehall and Somerset House party. " I will not hold with any that cannot cry ' God save the king, and down with Parliament.' "

Having discharged himself of so much loyalty, John Ingrain turned on his heel, and left his old friend the cordwainer, without even the courtesy of " good day, neighbour."

And thus it was wherever men met together. Old friends debated until they parted enemies. Fathers, brothers, sons, set aside their natural relation to each other until the great strife, which was to succeed, became inevitable. So much of the history of the time was needful to our story ; but we shall henceforth have to deal with other domestic commotions, in which the contests were long and fierce, and pregnant with many changes of fortune.

The old Mermaid, in Bread-street, had maintained somewhat of its former repute, when the great wits of Eliza and James made it their Helicon. The larder, opening to the street, was generally supplied with tempting delicacies ; and the name of Jacob Magnus, inscribed beneath " a wondrous fishy woman," painted on the signboard, was in high favour with those who loved a tankard of good ale or a flask of good wine.

It wanted an hour to noon, and the large room of the tavern was being prepared for the reception of those guests who needed a morning draught, or a light snack " to close the orifice of the stomach," as Bobadil hath it, until the hour of dinner, which then had grown to be as late as three o'clock.

" Now, Thomas Handy, bestir thyself," said Mistress Magnus, a buxom, bustling dame of five-and-thirty years of age ; " wipe the dust from the settles ; polish the silver breakers, that any dulness of the liquor may be overlooked for the brightness of the cup."

" Yea ! " replied the young man addressed, in the affected drawl already adopted by the frequenters of the conventicles ; and Thomas, though a tapster, had sought to be one of the chosen. " Yea ; the vessels of pewter shall be even as the vesse's of silver, and the inside of the platter shall be as clean as the out."

"Ay, ay, Thomas," said Mistress Magnus, "I know thou art a goodly lad ; but as thou art slow at work as well as slow of speech, .rub on in silence."