Patrons and clients: their role in sixteenth century parliamentary politicking and legislation

Turnbull Library Record, Volume XVIII, Issue 2, 1 October 1985, Page 69

Patrons and clients: their role in sixteenth century parliamentary politicking and legislation

MICHAEL GRAVES

Patrons and clients might be described as the civilianised descendants of feudal lords and vassals. The bonds of land-grant and military obligation had disappeared. Instead the Tudor patron was a great (or at least a greater) man who threw his protective mantle over lesser mortals, who loomed large in his county, and whose patronage, prestige and Court contacts might secure patronage and advance the fortunes of those who looked to him as their protector. In return he expected them —his clients—to exhibit deference and loyalty, support him in his quarrels and to enhance his 'presence'—in other words to follow, escort and accompany him, physically and visibly. Mutual moral obligation, social responsibility and deference, and material advantage were all important elements in such relationships. The patron client mechanism 1 was the focal point and nexus of the faction. Perhaps faction is an inappropriate term, because it suggests a grouping with a prime political motivation. Certainly it is not the equivalent of a party, because parties are separated by different policies and principles, but it does describe a political organism, even if its only political dynamics were office, power and profit. Doubtless this is the consequence of reading back history from post-Restoration politics. However, this retrospective approach is misleading and unhistorical, especially for the sixteenth century. First and foremost a Tudor faction was a social connexion: an affiliation of men brought together by kinship (of blood or marriage); friendship; social, economic and occupational links; common county identity or social status and perhaps (not necessarily) religion. The unifying force was the common bond of loyalty to the patron. They were members of the patron's extended 'cousinhood', his relatives, servants, estate officials, tenants, allies, friends and neighbours. The faction, defined in this way, was characteristic of the hierarchical and deferential nature of Tudor society, in which it was not debasing or humiliating to seek

'good lordship' and become a member of a great man's clientele. It was advantageous, indeed for the ambitious it was necessary to do so, and the client's own prestige was enhanced by that connexion. The very fact that the Tudor faction was a social phenomenon, however, made it a rather fluid, amorphous grouping. It is impossible to draw up the personnel list of a faction, because clients came and went, had more than one patron, or were themselves patrons as well. Factions overlapped, coalesced, fragmented, whilst some men stood in intimate relationship to a patron yet were not of his clientele.

However, the patron client mechanism and faction acquired a political aspect too, especially because of the poverty of the Tudor state. The state could not afford a standing army, a police force or a nationwide, salaried bureaucracy. Local government depended on unpaid, over-burdened justices of the peace. According to W. T. MacCaffrey only 1,200 salaried offices in central and local administration were 'worth a gentleman's having' at a time when 2,500 Elizabethan gentry were competing for them. Lawrence Stone queried these calculations and concluded that, at a guess, 'it would be that the ratio of aspirants to suitable jobs under Elizabeth was about 2 to 1 for the aristocracy, 5 to 1 for the 500 leading county families, and anything up to 30 to 1 for the parochial gentry'. Moreover, only twenty royal offices opened up prospects of a fortune. Even in these cases profit derived not from the official salary but from the extent to which they could be exploited for financial gain. The Elizabethan Lord Admiral, for example, received only £2OO in fees and annuities, but in 1601 was reckoned to be worth more than £3,000. 2 Most officers in central government were grossly underpaid or only nominally paid. In compensation the Crown allowed them to charge a recognised scale of fees to the public for services rendered.

More important, however, was the way in which it supplemented meagre incomes with patronage. Royal patronage took many forms: titles, offices, pensions, leases of crown lands, monopolies and economic benefits and so on. Of course there was never enough to go round. That simple fact bred competition, with patrons as the vital intermediaries and the faction as the natural mechanism through which to lobby for a share. This can be illustrated through the rich collection of Sir Robert Cecil's papers. William Cecil, Lord Burghley, died in 1598. His patron's mantle passed to his second son, Robert, and, in 1599, so did his office of Master of the Court of Wards. It was an office rich in patronage potential. Clients queued up to ingratiate themselves with Robert. The Dean of Gloucester wrote, 'Had I been as well known to you as I was to your father for many years, then I should not lie in the

dirt and dust of indignity and disgrace... Wherefore I would beseech you to be another patron to me instead of your father... Meantime I send a couple of Worcestershire cheeses...' Sir Samuel Bagenall apologised for forgetting his patron, promised to make amends, and sent him two dogs—adding, in a charming postscript, 'This great white dog is the most furiousest beast that ever I saw.' The borough corporation of Colchester sent him £lO in gold, expressed joy 'in their happy election of Cecil for their patron' and craved 'the perpetuity of his protection'. 5 Gifts showered in: 'an ambling gelding', a 'summer' nag and other horses, 'pyony water, good against all affections of the... heart', a barrel of conserves, a 'syve' of cherries and a basket of 'apricocks and plums', hawks, partridges, pheasants, stags, bucks, and so on. 6

These were gifts unaccompanied by suits for patronage. They were just marks of respect for their patron and reminders that Cecil's clients lived in hope. Reminders were important. Sir John Harington sent Cecil 'a homely present, and though the metal therein be neither gold nor silver, yet... it will be worth gold and silver to your house. In my idle discourse on this subject... I valued this device for my own poor house to be worth £IOO and... [for yours] worth a thousand. But, seriously, you shall find... the use of it commodious and necessary, and above all, in time of infection most wholesome.' What was his gift? Harington had designed a flush-lavatory. 7 Lord Burghley once advised his son, Robert, that clients should send gifts which would be constant reminders to their patron. Surely this gift would serve! 8

Some gifts were accompanied by petitions. Others were material thanks for services rendered. There was nothing inherently corrupt in such dealings. Cecil's patronage secretary, Michael Hickes, could write openly to a suitor that his services 'I know are as welcome and acceptable to you as twenty fair angels laid in the hands of us poor bribers here in Court'. 9 Gifts should not be extravagant. So Cecil informed Lord Cromwell that he would 'be pleased to accept one of the two horses' offered to him, but he added that 'it would be unreasonable to accept them both unless he saw some imminent opportunity to requite him'. 10 Nevertheless services required gratuities, a universally accepted fact. Indeed in 1595 a case in the Court of Requests concerned Richard Putto, who took action against one, William Smith. The latter had acted as an intermediary in delicate negotiations, which had secured Putto the escheatorship of Kent. Putto had passed Smith £2O, for Michael Hickes, Burghley's patronage secretary, with £5 for himself. However, Smith paid Hickes only £ls and kept another £5. The result was a lawsuit and the significant point is that a court of law was prepared to act in order to enforce the payment of a gratuity.

Thus far faction had a profit motive—a slice of patronage —but by implication it also had a power motive: the acquisition of office, one of the most important forms of patronage. This was not confined to suits for a vacant office when its occupant fell terminally ill or died. It could extend to attempts to remove the present incumbent when he was in good health. Normally factions were social connexions, operating especially at the county level. However, power struggles transformed them into political machines and transported them into the Court, where alone great officials could be toppled: Thomas Cromwell scheming against both the Boleyn family and the conservatives in the 15305; the Duke of Norfolk and Bishop Gardiner of Winchester, ultra-reac-tionaries, undermining the neo-Lutheran Cromwell in 1539-40; 13 Gardiner against the anti-clerical Lord Paget in Mary's reign; 14 the Earl of Leicester joining a Court conspiracy against William Cecil in 1569, l 3 and the bitter, divisive conflict between Essex and the Cecilians in the 1590 s. 16 Apart from the last of these, they are not examples of mere cut-throat competition between rival, ambitious Court politicians. Differences of policy, political principle and religion were involved. In these instances we have fleeting glimpses of factions with some of the characteristics of parties.

At this point it is necessary to carry the discussion one step further. As governing class factions, in county and Court, had a political aspect, and as parliament was the forum of that class, is it not possible that faction politics rippled out from county and Court into parliament—as they undoubtedly did under the early Stuarts? First, let us consider parliaments. They did not constitute some kind of autonomous corporate being which operated without reference to the society in which they existed. They were simply occasions when monarch and governing class met in conclave. They were also a microcosm of the political nation which monopolised its membership: nobles, bishops, gentry, lawyers and urban elites. With this in mind, let us rephrase the question: did faction fights within the governing class disturb Tudor parliaments? The answer must be a qualified 'Yes'. The qualification is necessary. Most parliaments were not marked or marred by faction fights or by serious conflict between the Crown and the governing class, in which the latter marshalled its forces through the patron client mechanism. On the other hand the answer must be 'Yes', because the work of politically and biographically orientated historians (such as A. F. Pollard and J. E. Neale) together with revisionist history (which concentrates on parliamentary business rather than politics) have revealed many examples of the patron client mechanism, the nexus of the faction, as an active (and sometimes a disruptive) parliamentary force.

The importance of patrons was first expressed when writs were issued for a new parliament and elections to the Commons were held. Clients sought to be returned for a variety of reasons and applied to their patrons for assistance. In many boroughs, especially the smaller ones, patrons (who in some cases had secured their parliamentary enfranchisement) were able to introduce 'carpet-bagging' clients who were acceptable because they were willing to serve without wages. 17 The results of this activity are manifest in the recently-published volumes of the History of Parliament Trust. Great patrons, most of them noble, nominated or influenced the election of almost 30 per cent of the Commons in Elizabeth's reign. Such clients were not the whipped members of a disciplined, organised political party. We must not assume that they danced to the political tune of their patron, or that they were expected to. On the other hand many of them were voluntary watchdogs of his interests, just as he was willing to promote theirs. It was no more than a parliamentary expression of patron client relationships.

A classic case concerns the Scottish marches (borderlands). For centuries this quasi-feudal, military and turbulent area had been dominated by the Cliffords and Nevilles in the west, the Dacres in the centre, and the Percys in the east. Their economic power, social influence and military manpower were greater than those of the Crown, which gave them a relatively free hand because they defended the frontier against the Scots. However, they were an unknown factor, turbulent, often at war with each other, and liable to pursue their own interests to the detriment of the Crown. The centralising state of Henry VIII and Thomas Cromwell moved to alter this state of affairs. One device was to elevate 'new men' to counterbalance the old great families. Most prominent and successful was Thomas Wharton, created a baron in 1544. ly His family had been clients and estate stewards of the Cliffords and Percys for centuries and now he was a rival. Constant feuding continued from the forties through the sixties. When the Earl of Cumberland and Wharton came south to parliament in 1554 the Council imposed upon them a public reconciliation. They clasped hands and swore everlasting love and devotion, whilst councillors watched and wept copiously. A similar ceremony was imposed on Wharton and the equally hostile Lord Dacre in 1552 'considering how perilous a thing [their quarrels] were, as well for this troublesome season as in this time of Parliament and assembly of the nobles of the realm'. The practice was repeated in 1554. However, all official attempts at reconciliation were to no avail — the affrays and tumults continued unabated. 20 Wharton did not let the matter rest there. In 1549 his client,

Richard Musgrave, introduced into the Commons a bill to deprive the Earl of Cumberland of his hereditary shrievalty in the County of Westmorland. Cumberland's men were quick to respond. Thomas Jolye, the Earl's nominated burgess for Appleby, purchased a copy of the bill from the commons' clerk. Sir William Babthorpe and Sir Nicholas Fairfax 'with so many of your lordship's friends' spoke against the bill. '[l] thinketh it will be no further spoken of, but, just in case, he had recruited seven other members to voice their opposition to it and he trusted to have 'almost the whole House of that part'. However, Jolye assured Cumberland that Lord Dacre had promised to resist the bill if it did reach the Lords. The bill failed. 21 In Mary's reign Wharton complained to the Council of 'sundry heinous and grevious disorders' committed by Cumberland against him and his tenants and in February 1558 a bill was introduced into the Lords to punish the 'lewd misdemeanours' of the Earl's servants and tenants towards him. That attempt too was scotched. 22

Boroughs, as well as great men, had their interests to push. Here we witness a reverse process. Exeter, for example, needed to build a 'cutt' (a canal) to the sea in order to bypass the River Exe, rendered unnavigable by silting and the encroachment of Exminster Marsh. It looked to its powerful patrons, the first and second Earls of Bedford, to promote its scheme in parliament, greasing the palm with occasional gifts such as a tun of Gascon wine. However, there were shoals and rapids in their relationship, as in 1563 when Exeter rebuffed Bedford's request to nominate one of its members and he retaliated with a thinly-veiled threat to withdraw his favour. 23 Above all there was London. It was the most powerful urban economic interest and active, organised lobby in Tudor parliaments. This can be illustrated by its tenacious campaign to conserve existing timber supplies and replenish forests. There were two reasons for this. The City provided cheap subsidised bread and fuel for its poor, an expression both of the paternalism of the City governors and their concern to prevent social discontent, which might lead on to public disturbance. Secondly, London's rapid growth demanded timber for the building industry. However, the depredations of the Wealden iron industry, south of London, were rapidly depleting resources in order to produce charcoal for smelting. From the 1540 s through to the 1580 s the City fought a running parliamentary battle to preserve timber and, increasingly, against the iron interest. It looked to powerful patrons at Court, especially in the Council, and it argued in parliament that it was defending the public interest. However, it also had formidable opponents. The Sidney family had invested in the iron industry. In 1572 its

spokesman was Sir Henry Sidney, Viceroy of Ireland, President of Wales and brother-in-law of the Queen's favourite, the Earl of Leicester. Court interests and local economic conflicts come together in this particular dispute. Court interests and politics provide some of the most dramatic examples of the patron client mechanism at work in parliament. This can be demonstrated by the careers of several courtier-patrons and parliament men. The political career of the first of these, Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, extended into three reigns. In the 1530 s Gardiner, in alliance with the Duke of Norfolk, led the religious conservatives against the neo-Lutheran Thomas Cromwell. In 1539 Cromwell appeared to be at the peak of his power. For years he had kept Gardiner and Norfolk away from Court, either in exile or on royal service abroad. Now he persuaded Henry VIII to summon a parliament to confirm the dissolution of the larger monasteries. Indeed he promised his royal master 'the most tractable parliament' that he had ever had. Unfortunately for Cromwell, parliament brought his enemies back to Court. Utilising the king's powerful conservative instincts, they outmanoeuvred the minister, securing the passage of the notorious catholic Six Articles Act with the help of episcopal allies in the Lords. A year later Cromwell fell. 5

In the next reign, however, Gardiner himself was the victim of the protestant reformation of Edward Vl's Council. The Bishop was imprisoned during every session of the reign. He wrote from prison denying the existence of 'Winchester's faction, as some term it; whereas, I take God to record, I never joined myself with any man'. Yet shortly afterwards he contradicted this when he warned, 'lf it should be of any man, through policy, to keep me from the parliament, it were good to be remembered whether mine absence from the upper house, with the absence of those I have used to name in the nether house, will not engender more cause of objection, if opportunity serve hereafter, than my presence with such as I should appoint there.' This was a warning, a threat. It is worth noting two crucial phrases: 'those I have used to name in the nether house' and 'such as I should appoint there'. In normal circumstances Gardiner nominated six members to his episcopal boroughs of Taunton, Downton and Hindon, and influenced elections in Hampshire, Winchester and other Hampshire boroughs. There is no clearer statement of a patron's parliamentary clientage and his willingness to use it to political ends. 26 With Mary I's accession the wheel of fortune turned and Gardiner became Lord Chancellor. He wanted reunion with Rome, Mary's marriage to an Englishman, and Elizabeth's exclusion from the succession. His great rival on the Council was William, Lord Paget,

one of the mildly conservative, anti-clerical politicians who were prominent in Mary's reign. Whilst Paget had acquiesced in the Edwardian reformation, he was of an essentially secular cast of mind, which expressed itself in his anti-clerical hostility to Gardiner. His preference was for Henrician Catholicism, which would accommodate the Queen's religious doctrines and, at the same time, exclude papal authority. Furthermore, unlike Gardiner, he was an early supporter of her marriage to the Spanish-catholic-Habsburg, Prince Philip, and, at the same time, a protector of her protestant half-sister, Elizabeth. In these matters he may have been ignorant of the Queen's real intentions. Whatever Paget's motives were —and they probably included a calculated self-interest and an eye to the future —he and Gardiner disagreed on every urgent issue of the day. 27 The result was a bitter conciliar conflict which was transferred onto the floor of both houses in the first three Marian parliaments. Gardiner secured the election of 20-30 clients and allies to each of them. In the first he organised an unsuccessful bicameral campaign to persuade Mary into an English marriage. Pliable politician that he was, he then embraced wholeheartedly the Spanish match. In the second parliament he mounted an independent, pro-papal catholic and anti-protestant anti-Elizabethan legislative programme which Paget, his allies and clients wrecked and, in the process, sank some of Mary's own measures. Finally, in the third parliament, Gardiner possibly used clients in the Commons to enlarge the authority of the Queen's husband, Philip of Spain. Gardiner —'Wily Winchester' —was the prototype of the managerial politician and patron who exploited parliament to political ends.

Although Gardiner's clientele served him faithfully in parliament, there were clear limits to the parliamentary obligations and loyalties of clients. One of Gardiner's more formidable opponents was the Earl of Pembroke, many of whose men were nominated by him through the decayed cloth towns of the Cotswolds and Wiltshire. Pembroke was of protestant inclination, as were many of his clients. In 1555 the Commons debated a bill to penalise protestant exiles. During the debate an ardent papist and the chief government spokesman, Sir Edward Hastings, and Sir George Howard, a reformer, almost came to blows on the floor of the house. When the discussion continued afterwards at Pembroke's house, the Earl sided with Hastings. Sir John Perrott, 'his most favourite and familiar gentleman' disagreed with him. Pembroke, in a fury, dismissed him, whereupon 'Many other gentlemen in the Earl's service took their leave of him'. 29

In contrast, it looks as if clients had responded to the call of their great noble patrons in the parliament of 1554-5. The Commons (and possibly Gardiner's clients in particular) had transformed a

simple bill, giving Mary's husband Philip the protection of the treason laws, into a measure making him protector of the realm if she predeceased him and left minor heirs. A number of peers were alarmed by this attempt to enlarge the authority of the kingconsort. When the bill passed the Commons 106 members either walked out or were simply absent —and later the Court of King's Bench took legal action against more than sixty of them. At least thirty-six were clients of Pembroke, Bedford, other nobles, and Sir Thomas Cheyne, Pembroke's friend and Bedford's relative, all of whom (with the possible exception of Cheyne) quietly departed parliament too. It is probable that these men seceded in silent protest and took their clients with them. 30

Another example of the courtier-cum-parliamentary politician, Thomas, Lord Seymour, is one of unalloyed ambition, devoid of principle of any kind. He was the worthiest candidate for the title of 'aristocratic lunatic of the century', excelling even Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey and Robert Devereux, second Earl of Essex in his blind impetuosity and political naivete. He was inordinately jealous of his brother Edward, who proclaimed himself Lord Protector and guardian of King Edward VI a few days after Henry VIII's death. Thomas 'misliked that he was not placed in the Parliament House, as one of the King his uncles'. So he turned to parliament to remedy his grievances and challenge his brother's authority. When he was arrested in January 1549 he was charged with 'having in both the same houses laboured, stirred, and moved a number of persons to take part and join with him in such things as he would set forth and enterprise, whereby he thought to breed such a tumult, uproar and sedition'. He was accused of intending to appear in the Commons with his 'fautours and adherents [i.e. clients] before prepared' and there to cause a 'broil' and tumult. Nor did he ignore the upper house where 'he had the names of all the Lords, and totted them whom he thought he might have to his purpose to labour them'. Seymour even threatened that, if his designs were thwarted, 'I will make the blackest Parliament that ever was in England'. 31 His indiscretions, tactlessness and the crudeness of his actions brought about his fall, but at least he had the perception to turn to parliament as an appropriate instrument with which to effect a revolution at Court. The final example belongs to the Elizabethan political twilight, the 15905. The heirs of William Cecil, Lord Burghley, and the Earl of Leicester were Robert Cecil and Robert, Earl of Essex. Theirs too was a power struggle pure and simple. They competed for everything including borough stewardships or recorderships, which gave them extensive influence in parliamentary elections. The steward might be the nominal, decorative head officer of a

town, just as a chancellor is of a modern university. Nevertheless it equipped the holder with a degree of parliamentary patronage. Neale has demonstrated how 'hot' these men were in pursuit of stewardships. Paradoxically, however, there were no parliamentary repercussions. There is no substantial evidence to show that Cecil or Essex marshalled clients in order to thwart or inflict defeat on each other in the late Elizabethan parliaments 3 —perhaps it was no more than an expression of the ceaseless competition for prestige in which such men engaged.

This enigma is best set aside for lack of convincing explanation. The important point to remember is that long before then, indeed by 1558, noble and episcopal patrons were well versed in the arts of parliamentary politicking—even opposition —to unpopular royal policies and hated ministers. However, Elizabeth's accession brought a new set of circumstances into play. Gone were the contentious revolutionary designs of Henry VIII and Thomas Cromwell, the unpopular regents of Edward VI, and the objectionable policies of Mary. Collaboration between the Crown and the governing class was the essence of Elizabeth's reign, despite the stresses and strains to which it was subjected. Sir John Neale's thesis of rising conflict and organised puritan opposition has to be set aside, as a consequence of revisionist history. It is now clear that the supposed parliamentary campaigns against Elizabeth were, in fact, male chauvinistic actions, orchestrated by the Privy Council through their clients and allies in both houses, to coerce an obstinate, conservative and vacillating woman into action. According to Neale a puritan opposition party (the 'choir') in 1563 and 1566/7 endeavoured to force Elizabeth to marry and beget or to name a successor —anything better than the dreaded alternative, the legitimate heir Mary Stuart. Yet why was it that the loudest voices in the succession debate in the Commons were those of Thomas Norton, Robert Bell and Robert Monson? Norton was the client of Elizabeth's secretary, William Cecil, Bell had connections with Lord Keeper Bacon (Cecil's brother-in-law) and Monson was a relative of the second Earl of Bedford, Cecil's closest ally in the Lords. When the Commons appointed a committee to draft a succession petition, it was Norton who played the 'front-man' and read the draft petition to the house. Lord Keeper Bacon ensured the Lords' cooperation. Furthermore when the Commons voted a subsidy to the Queen, it was Cecil who drafted the preamble, which included her promise to marry or name a successor. The Cecil connexion, not a puritan opposition, was the author and organiser of the succession campaign. 33 The same is true of Neale's so-called puritan agitation to cleanse the 'halfly-reformed' Anglican Church through parliament in

1571. It was a genuine concern not only of'puritans' but of the protestant governing class as a whole —including Cecil. He could depend on a sympathetic response from both houses in his attempt to pressurise Elizabeth into reform. Fifteen bishops had earlier petitioned her on the subject. When they received no more than a tongue lashing the Cecil connexion swung into action. Norton and William Strickland introduced the reform bills and they, together with Bell, Dalton, Monson and Yelverton, all of whom were lawyers and clients of Cecil or Bacon, ardently pursued the cause in debate and committee. That all of their efforts foundered on the rock of an obstinate imperious queen was partly the consequence of the tactless radicalism of Strickland, the only participant who was not associated with the secretary. This failure does not alter the fact that parliaments were used by Cecil to coerce Elizabeth and that his connexion, his clientele, was his instrument of action. 34

Parliament met again a year later. It was an emergency session; summoned to advise the Queen. The Ridolfi Plot, a conspiracy to marry the Duke of Norfolk to Mary Stuart and to depose or kill Elizabeth, had been uncovered. Norfolk was alive but under sentence of death. Mary was a refugee and prisoner in England. The Council wanted drastic action against them both. But already a change had occurred which altered the course of Elizabethan parliamentary history. In 1571 William Cecil, Elizabeth's most trusted adviser, had been appointed Lord Treasurer, and he had been elevated to the House of Lords as Baron Burghley. No longer was he personally present to supervise proceedings in the large, unwieldy, inefficient House of Commons. This had an important consequence: he had to employ some of his politically conscious and ambitious clients as his parliamentary 'men-of-business' —as his eyes, ears, and managers.

Before we examine this parliament, it is worth looking briefly at the Burghley connexion. Of course it would be impossible to produce a roll call and explore it to its limits. His longevity, political success, unparalleled record in high office and growing wealth meant that the ramifications of his clientele were seemingly endless. Certainly his relations with other men took many forms. Therefore we propose only to identify certain categories of clientage and illustrate them with examples of those men who served his turn in parliament. Some were related by marriage or blood —above all Lord Keeper Bacon, presiding officer of the House of Lords. Burghley and Bacon had married daughters of a country gentleman, Sir Anthony Cooke. Bacon’s clients included Thomas Digges and the lawyer Robert Bell who in 1572 was Speaker, presiding officer of the Commons. Amongst Burghley’s

'parliamentary' relatives was his cousin Thomas Dannett, whose other patron was the Lord Treasurer's old friend Archbishop Parker. His business associates in mining ventures included Sir Rowland Heyward, a prominent London merchant. Thomas Wilbraham was Attorney of the Court of Wards, of which Burghley was Master. Lawyer-clients included James Dalton. 35 Furthermore, because London was the only loan market in the kingdom, the Lord Treasurer was drawn into an intimate connexion with it. In the process he recruited his most important parliamentary clients.

The most notable of these was Thomas Norton, the Lord Mayor's secretary, whose obsessive hatred of popery and devotion to the Queen were his distinguishing characteristics. Norton's patrons included Sir Christopher Hatton and Sir Francis Walsingham, but above all 'my good Lord Treasurer [who] is the only man in whom I have and do lay the course of my relief. Another equally reliable client was William Fleetwood, Recorder (legal counsel) of the City. He was, to say the least, eccentric—indeed dubbed by some 'the mad Recorder' —and certainly one of the most engaging Elizabethans. He was scholarly and loquacious, larding his Commons speeches with classical allusion and legal precedent. The clerk might describe an address as 'long, tedious ... nothing touching the matter in question' but that was not the general opinion of the house. His lengthy speeches—often an hour or two —were admired by most. The house indulged itself in his irrelevant ramblings: on a bill to impose a lower age limit of 24 years on ministers of the Church, he commenced one morning: 'You would think that I had studied this [a] year I am so ready and perfect in it, but I promise you I never heard this bill before, but I could keep you here until two o'clock.' He then wandered off into a discourse on poisoning—which, perhaps, was taking anticlericalism too far —ending with the confident reflection, 'I think you would be content to hear me these two hours.' 36

Fleetwood, like Norton, was utterly devoted to Elizabeth and Burghley and rabid in his anti-catholicism. He energetically hunted down and unearthed Jesuit missionaries and naughty printed popish books', whilst ensuring that Burghley did not remain ignorant of his endeavours: 'I have not leisure to eat my meat, I am so called upon. I am at the best part of an hundred nights a year abroad in searches. I never rest.' In 1576 occurred his piece de resistance. English catholics were attending mass in the Portuguese Embassy. At the head of a body of armed men, but without the moderating advice of a Sancho Panza, he broke down the doors of the Embassy. He scuffled with the porter, swept past him with drawn sword and 'seized the Host, the chalice and the

ambassador's wife'. This was not received at all well in official circles, because the Queen had just signed a commercial treaty with Portugal. He spent a week in the Fleet Prison, from whence he wrote to his patron, Lord Burghley, with an air of resignation, that there 'a man may quietly be acquainted with God'. Such was the stuff of which some of Burghley's parliamentary clients were made. 37

They were crucial to the success of his parliamentary management, both in the short and long term. In the short term there was the parliament of 1572, designed by the Council to persuade the Queen to liquidate Norfolk and Mary Stuart. At this point it is pertinent to recollect the names of some of Burghley's allies and clients: Bacon, Digges, Bell, Dannett, Heyward, Dalton, Norton, Fleetwood and Wilbraham. Bacon's opening address hinted at the solution which was required. Bell was chosen as speaker of the Commons. Norton delivered twelve speeches against Norfolk and Mary. And he was supported by Digges, Dannett and Wilbraham. The Commons called for members to 'exhibit ... in writing' reasons why the Duke should die. A week later, Norton handed in his marshalled arguments to Speaker Bell, whilst Dannett and Digges had also drafted carefully argued cases. Perhaps the relentless pressure worked. Two days later Norfolk was executed.

There remained Mary Stuart. In a joint conference with the Lords on the most desirable course of action, the Commons' delegates included Dalton, Heyward, Fleetwood, Norton and Wilbraham. The Commons and Lords opted for Mary's present attainder for treason (with its attendant penalties) and her removal from the succession. However, Elizabeth informed them that she preferred simply to nullify Mary's claim to the crown, with attainder as the penalty if she offended again. Speaker Bell, acting on the Council's prompting, recommended another joint conference with the Lords. That conference resolved that the bishops, civil lawyers and members of both houses should draft biblical, legal and political arguments in favour of Mary's death. Most of these have survived —amongst Thomas Norton's papers! Moreover they were 'produced' within 48 hours—an almost impossible logistical exercise, given their length and complexity. It suggests conciliar foresight and pre-planning, with Burghley overseeing all. At the end Elizabeth frustrated all their efforts. Burghley lamented, 'All that we have laboured for ... was by her Majesty ... deferred.' Nevertheless this episode demonstrates Burghley's dependence on his parliamentary clients. 38 In the longer term that dependence did not alter. Norton, and others too, were fertile in time-saving devices which would expedite official business in the Commons. Moreover Burghley,

now in the Lords, needed information on the Commons' proceedings. It is surely no coincidence that, at the same time as his elevation, his clients Norton, Fleetwood, and Fulk Onslow were appointed to the offices of Lord Mayor's Secretary, City Recorder, and Clerk of the Commons respectively, and that, in 1572, Bell was 'elected' speaker of the lower house. It is from 1571 onwards that parliamentary diaries, reports and advices have survived. Speaker Bell reported to him on the progress of bills. Onslow described proceedings in 1572, 1581 and 1586-7. Fleetwood and others sent accounts to Burghley in 1581 and 1584. These men were not only clients of a peerless patron. They were also the parliamentary aides of the chief minister of state. 39

The operation of the patron client mechanism and of faction in the parliamentary context draws attention to several significant points about Tudor parliaments. Continental assemblies, such as the French estates-general and provincial estates, the various Spanish cortes, the Sicilian parlimento and the Swedish riksdag, reflected the 'estate structure' of those societies. They were structurally organised in estates or social orders: those who prayed (the clergy), those who fought (the nobility), and those who toiled (the third estate). That concept crumbled in fourteenth century English parliaments. The lower clergy withdrew to their own assembly, convocation. The rural gentry and urban elites formed their own chamber, the Commons. This left the bishops, abbots and peers in possession of the parliament house —the future 'House of Lords'. By the sixteenth century, the English parliaments did not constitute a tiered institution of three competing estates, each sitting separately, but a bicameral assembly.

Homogeneity, not separateness, was the essence of English parliaments. They were the microcosm of the governing class, which consisted of those social groups entitled to a legitimate, active political role. Bishops (and until 1540 some abbots and priors), peers and gentry, merchants and lawyers—the membership of parliaments—were part of a lattice-work of various and varied relationships within that class. The patron client mechanism and faction were expressions of the essential social homogeneity which crossed the artificial barrier of the bicameral organisation of parliament. It is true that, within that context, there were divisive forces and disagreements: between localities, economic lobbies and the factions of courtier-politicians and other great men. The City of London in particular promoted its interests in parliaments. So too did smaller urban communities, such as Exeter, York and Yarmouth. They sponsored bills, opposed others and sought out influential ministers, councillors and courtiers to advance their causes. Families, individuals and

economic lobbies searched for powerful patrons with the same object in view. Sometimes this activity could cause parliamentary friction, although the social bonds within parliament usually absorbed such stresses and indeed served to facilitate the effective despatch of business.

Nevertheless this brief study of patron client relationships does suggest further lines of enquiry. Revisionists have charged the school of 'political' parliamentary historians with a concentration on the politics of parliament, whilst neglecting its business —and rightly so. Yet, paradoxically, the revisionists' own emphasis on business has drawn increasing attention to the political mechanisms of patrons, clients and factions. They have discovered that bills are not always what they seem to be —that behind the ordered legislative process lies a subtle interplay of local, sectional, economic and Court politics. Several points of political significance are emerging. First, that the invisible socio-political influence of patronage enhanced the authority of the House of Lords (where most of the great patrons sat) in its dealings with the Commons (to which many of their clients had been elected). Secondly, that we need to know much more about competition and conflict within/between boroughs and economic interests, both during parliamentary sessions and in the interim. Finally, it is now clear that, as in the seventeenth century (though probably less so), Court politics had their parliamentary repercussions. As revisionists master the institutional niceties of parliaments and their business, they need to return to politics again. I do not mean 'high' constitutional conflict (which for the most part did not exist in the sixteenth century), but the parliamentary lobbying and politicking of individuals, families, communities and, in particular, of Court factions.

A revised version of a paper presented at the third national early modern studies conference held in Auckland, 25-26 August 1984.

REFERENCES 1 For important studies of patronage and the patron client mechanism see e.g. J. E. Neale, 'The Elizabethan Political Scene', in The Age of Catherine de Medici arid Essays in Elizabethan History (London, 1965), pp. 145-70; W. T. MacCaffrey, 'Place and Patronage in Elizabethan Polities', in S. T. Bindoff, J. Hurstficld and C. H. Williams (eds), Elizabethan Government and Society (London, 1961), pp. 95-126; L. Stone, The Crisis of the Aristocracy, 1558-1641 (Oxford, 1965), pp. 398-504; A.G.R. Smith, The Government of Elizabethan England (London, 1967), pp. 57-69; idem, Servant of the Cecils: The Life of Sir Michael Hickes (London, 1977), pp. 51-80; R.C. Braddock, 'The Rewards of

Office-Holding in Tudor England', Journal of British Studies, 14, no 2 (1975), 29-47; P. Williams, The Tudor Regime (Oxford, 1979), pp. 371-4. For a study of early Tudor patronage, see also E. W. Ives, 'Patronage at the Court of Henry VIII: The Case of Sir Ralph Egcrton of Ridley', Bulletin of the John Rylands Library, 52 (1969-70), 346-74. 2 Calendar of Patent Rolls, Mary I, 1553-4, pp. 148-50; Stone, p. 467; Neale, 'Elizabethan Political Scene', p. 146; MacCaffrey, pp. 99, 108. The office of Lord Admiral was one of the most lucrative appointments. The letters patent of appointment entitled the holder to receive all 'fees, profits, wages, emoluments, wreck of the sea, ... rewards, advantages [and commodities] ... pertaining to the office', as well as 'the goods of traitors, pirates, homicides and felons', treasure-trove, 'lost goods found in the sea or thrown up out of it, ... all fines and forfeitures, etc., adjudged in any court of admiralty of England' and even 'royal fishes' such as sturgeons, whales, porpoises and dolphins. More important for the ambitious patron, he was also empowered to appoint and remove lieutenants, vice-admirals and a wide range of other naval officials.

3 26 October 1602. H[istorical] Manuscripts] Commission Reports], Calendar of the Manuscripts of the Marquess of Salisbury (Hatfield MS), Part XII, 456. 4 1 November 1602. Ibid., 460. 5 3 May 1602. Ibid., 139. 6 1 January, 4, 22 &28 May, 10 June, 8 July, 7, 16 & 26 August, 30 September, 23 October, 12 November. Ibid., pp. 1, 139-140, 164, 167, 190, 217, 286, 302-3, 321, 407, 409, 452, 469. 7 22June 1602. Ibid., p. 199. 8 The 'idle discourse' to which Harington referred was his book on the subject, A New Discourse of a Stale Subject, called the Metamorphosis ofAjax (London, 1596) — play on jakes' (a lavatory). 9 British Library, Lansdowne MS, 107, fol. 162. 10 H.M.C., Salisbury MS, Part XII, 167. 11 A. G. R. Smith, Servant of the Cecils (London, 1977), pp. 78-80. 12 E. W. Ives, 'Faction at the Court of Henry VIII: The Fall of Anne Bolcyn', History, 57 (1972), 169-188. 13 G. R. Elton, 'Thomas Cromwell's Decline and Fall', Cambridge Historical Journal, 10, no. 2 (1951), 150-85. 14 M. A. R. Graves, 'The House of Lords and the Politics of Opposition, AprilMay 1554', in G. A. Wood and P. S. O'Connor (eds), W.P. Morrell: A Tribute (Dunedin, 1973), pp. 1-20; idem, The House of Lords in the Parliaments of Edward VI and Mary I (Cambridge, 1981), pp. 183-98. 15 W. MacCaffrcy, The Shaping of the Elizabethan Regime (London, 1969), pp. 211-13,215,236-7.

16 C. Russell, The Crisis Parliaments, 1509-1660 (Oxford, 1971), pp. 251-4. 17 J. E. Neale, [The] E[lizabethan] H[ouse of] Cfommons] (London, 1949), pp. 141-158. 18 An average of 120-130 members in each parliament, see History of Parliament. The House of Commons, 1558-1603, ed. P. Hasler, 3 vols (London, 1981), I, 67101. 19 See M. E. James, Change and Continuity in the Tudor North: The Rise of Thomas, First Lord Wharton (York, 1965). 20 Graves, House of Lords . . . Edward VI and Mary I, pp. 109-114. 21 History of Parliament. The House of Commons, 1509-1558, ed. S.T. Bindoff, 3 vols, (London, 1982), 11, 450. 22 Graves, House of Lords, ... Edward VI and Mary I, p. 1 11. 23 H.M.C., City of Exeter, 73 (1916), 22, 27, 32-4, 43.

24 In 1572 Thomas Norton, one of London's members, argued that 'the bill toucheth us all as well as the City of London ... It is reason all private devices give place to general commodities.' Sydney replied that there were 'other occasions of the dearth of wood, besides iron mills. Iron [is] worthy to be made much of, as we stand with other nations.' In 1584 Sir Henry Sidney's son, Philip, continued the family involvement when he sat on bill committees dealing with the preservation of timber in Kent and Sussex. T. E. Hartley (ed.), Proceedings in the Parliaments of Elizabeth I (Leicester, 1981), I, 370; H.P.T., 1558-1603, 111, 381, 384; M. A. R. Graves, 'Thomas Norton the Parliament Man: an Elizabethan M.P., 1559-1581', Historical Journal , 23, no. 1 (1980), 25-6.

25 Elton, 'Cromwell's Decline and Fall', passim. 26 J. A. Muller, The Letters of Stephen Gardiner (Cambridge, 1933), pp. 405, 424. 27 D.M. Loades, The Reign of Mary Tudor (London, 1979), pp. 62, 80, 155, 160. 28 Graves, 'Politics of Opposition', pp. 1-20; idem, House of Lords, Edward VI and Mary I, pp. 183-198. 29 Michicl to Doge and Senate, 16 December 1555, Cal. S.P. Ven., Pt I, No. 316. 30 For a full discussion of this episode see Graves, House of Lords, Edward VI and Mary I, pp. 196-8; Loades, Mary Tudor, pp. 272-3. Cheyne may have withdrawn too but, in the absence of an attendance register for the Commons, there is no way of knowing. 31 S. Haynes and W. Murdin (eds), A Collection of State Papers Relating to Affairs in the Reigns of King Henry VIII, King Edward VI, Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth, 1542-70, 2 vols (London, 1740-59), I, 61-108; J. R. Dasent, Acts of the Privy Council of England, 32 vols, (London, 1890-1907), 11, 248-9, 259; H.M.C., Salisbury MS, Vol. 1, No. 300; W. Cobbett, T. B. Howell et al. (eds), A Complete Collection of State Trials , 42 vols (London, 1816-98), I, 485, 487, 497; Public Record Office, State Papers (Domestic), 10/6/6-17, 19-22, 26-7.

32 Neale, E.H.C., pp. 208-9, 233-245. 33 M. A. R. Graves, 'The Management of the Elizabethan House of Commons: The Council's Mcn-of-Business', Parliamentary History , 2 (1983), 11-14, 18 and note 48, 19-20, 24; H.P. T., 1558-1603, 111, 66. 34 J.E. Neale, Elizabeth I and her Parliaments, 1559-81 (London, 1953), pp. 193217; Graves, 'Council's Men-of-Business', 12-13, 24. 35 Ibid., 19-20 and note 67, 24; H.P. T., 1558-1603, 11, 9, 283. 36 Graves, 'Norton', passim; idem, 'Council's Men-of-Business', 20-1; H.P.T., 1558-1603, 11, 133, 136. 37 T. Wright, Queen Elizabeth and Her Times, 2 vols (London, 1838), 11, 37-41, 62-4; H.P.T., 1558-1603, 11, 137. 38 Graves, 'Council's Men-of-Business', 24-7. 39 Ibid., 30.