When, in 1387, Richard II’s judges were given virtually no option but to approve his claim to exercise absolute control of Parliament (regimen Parliamenti), and did in fact do so, they might well have observed that he demanded only formal recognition of established custom. So far as the practical business of Parliament was concerned, kings enjoyed prerogative rights; and although prudence dictated that they should seriously consider whatever Parliament required or advised, they themselves were legally entitled to determine matters of policy. Indeed, even judgements pronounced by the Lords as ‘judges of Parliament’ needed the King’s ultimate assent. And although in presenting petitions for remedy of grievances the Commons were responding to an official request, the royal right of veto still went unquestioned, and was by no means infrequently exercised.
Fundamental to the maintenance of royal prerogatives in Parliament was the protection they were afforded by the King’s Council; but sometimes the basic and jealously guarded right of appointing the great officers of State and Household and other members of the Council was put to the test by Parliament or looked as if it might be disputed, prompting the King to intervene personally in its defence. Such incidents occurred not infrequently in Richard II’s reign; and they were far from unknown in Henry IV’s. In 1406, for example, when pressure was put on the King to nominate his councillors in Parliament, recognition of his right to appoint required a bill brought in by Henry himself; and, in 1410, after names had been proposed by the Commons, the actual appointments were made conditional upon his permission. Obviously, issues of this kind, especially when they threatened to impinge upon the royal prerogative, were matters of high politics.
There were, however, other royal offices and commissions which, although less powerful, were certainly important enough to excite the constant interest of Parliament. Among them were the locally influential posts of sheriff and j.p.; and since the conduct of appointees so directly affected the life of the local communities represented in Parliament, the Commons were most closely involved in initiating proposals for reform. Their main concern about sheriffs was to ensure that their term of office should be for one year only, and that re-appointment should only ever occur after an interval: they did not seek to interfere with the method of royal selection. This was not, however, the case with regard to commissions of the peace. Every now and then, most notably during the reigns of Edward III and Richard II, the Commons attempted to change the way in which j.p.s were normally chosen, only to meet with official resistance and a jealous defence of crown control. No later than 1354, the Commons were asking that the keepers of the peace and the justices appointed to enforce the Statute of Labourers should, if possible, be the same people; and that when their names were now scrutinized by the chancellor, the treasurer and the King’s judges, the shire knights from the county in question should be present, and, moreover, should be able to nominate replacements for anyone who was then removed from the bench. Even so, the Commons’ petition itself did concede that this last, rather audacious request would be subject to the King’s discretion; and, in fact, the official answer ignored it. Furthermore, when the Commons of 1363 urged that the same commissioners should be ‘elected’ by the shire knights and burgesses attending Parliament, and were told they might proceed to nominate suitable persons, they were at the same time firmly given to understand that appointments would finally rest with the King. In the Parliament of 1365, too, reservation to the Crown of the appointment of j.p.s was safeguarded even more positively than before: the Commons’ two-fold request that the terms of the commission should be enlarged to confer the power of oyer and terminer in cases of felony and trespass against the peace, and that the justices in each county should be chosen by its own shire knights before they left Parliament, was rejected. Indeed, regarding nomination, it was simply stated that the King would inform the chancellor and the treasurer of his wishes. Dissatisfaction with the conduct of j.p.s, ventilated in the Good Parliament of 1376, then prompted the Commons to request that they should be named in Parliament (this time by the Lords as well as the shire knights) and, once sworn in before the Council, should not be removed without parliamentary approval; but this idea was also opposed, nomination being explicitly reserved to the King and the Council. The need for conciliar assent to such appointments was confirmed in the Parliament of 1379, despite an appeal by the Commons that the ‘election’ of the justices should be as advised by the Lords and themselves. And when, in the next Parliament of January 1380, they petitioned that such ‘election’ should be by the Lords and shire knights present, the submission of names, at any rate in writing, was again refused.
The Commons were likewise anxious to exercise some control over commissions for the collection of direct parliamentary taxation. But, here, what they were constantly at pains to obtain was freedom from a personal liability to help levy the subsidies they had granted. Since, in the course of the 14th century, their consent to taxation had become so essential that they could attach conditions to their grants, they were well placed to request such a concession; and if alternatively, or occasionally at the same time, they then asked to be allowed to nominate the collectors of a subsidy, official approval would doubtless be tantamount to their own exemption. Not until the second half of the 15th century, even so, did their demand for exemption from appointment as collectors begin to figure regularly among the conditions expressed in the grants of direct taxation. This had by no means always been the case. Admittedly, in 1344 (by which time Edward III was in great need of heavy taxation to finance the French war) the Commons granted a tenth and fifteenth leviable in each of the next two years on the understanding that nobody attending the Parliament ‘by writ’ should be made a collector; and this condition was evidently accepted.
The last years of Edward III’s reign and the first half of Richard II’s were, however, to witness a change of attitude by the government. Partly because no direct taxation was approved by Parliament between 1360 (the date of the Anglo-French peace treaty of Brétigny-Calais) and 1369 (when war was resumed), it was not until 1371 that a grant of an unusual subsidy of £50,000 leviable on parishes once again afforded the Commons an opportunity to request exemption from appointment as collectors, although on this occasion their plea specifically referred only to the shire knights. The King’s response—that he would appoint anybody thought suitable by the Council—was hardly encouraging. But this was not the end of the matter; at the great council which met shortly afterwards at Winchester and found it necessary to implement a massive five-fold increase in the parochial contributions (in order to realize the sum originally granted), the shire knights who attended, on the basis of one for each county, were allowed to furnish lists of names of collectors, from which presumably they omitted their own.
During this Parliament, which met at Coventry in October 1404, the Commons drew attention to the fact that some of the shire knights and burgesses present had been prevented by their attendance there from rendering accounts at the Exchequer (at Westminster) as assessors, collectors and controllers of the novel tax on knights’ fees and income from land granted by the last Parliament. They then asked that any such individuals should not face prosecution later, either because of this or for any short-fall in tax revenues during the session. Since the King was ready to approve their petition, the Commons unsurprisingly went on to make a generous grant of two tenths and fifteenths, albeit on the understanding that nobody attending the Parliament should be appointed as a collector. It was not, however, until November 1411, when the last valid Parliament of the reign granted a levy of 6 s.8 d. on every £20 of annual income deriving from lands and rents held by any of the King’s subjects, that they re-imposed the same condition; only now, while extending the exemption to cover assessment, collection and controlment, they specifically restricted it to themselves as elected Members. Quite possibly the unusual nature of the tax, as well as the administrative difficulties they expected to arise, prompted them to demand personal exemption from the business of collection in all of its aspects.
In view of the importance officially attached to the full and unimpeded attendance in Parliament of Members of the Lower House as well as of the Lords, it was necessary that neither they nor even their servants should be molested when journeying to and from Parliament and, a fortiori, when Parliament was in session. Moreover, if any of them were at such times being impleaded before the courts in civil actions, it was equally important to protect them from arrest or imprisonment, which would, of course, hinder or even prevent them from attending Parliament.
Apparently, it was only very seldom that the Commons had cause to draw Parliament’s attention by petition to the death or injury suffered, in an assault or violent affray, by one of their number or his servants. On the few occasions when they made a complaint their chief concern was to propose what, according to the nature of the crime, ought to be done about the culprit, and, if possible, to provide for similar contingencies in future. There were, of course, limits to what, in certain circumstances, they could request. For instance, following the violent death of Sir John Ipstones, knight-elect for Staffordshire, while on his way to the Parliament of 1394, one Roger Swynnerton had already been indicted by the time the Commons presented their petition, so that, with a local trial evidently still pending, they could do no more than ask that Swynnerton should not be released from prison on bail or mainprise until he had been brought to answer. Yet, so far as it went, their petition was granted.
Not until 1432 did the Commons again see fit to reconsider the question of personal protection for Members and their servants coming to Parliament, attending it, or returning home. If a particular incident had then occurred to alarm them, their petition made no mention of it. Nor was there any specific reference to the statute of 1404. However, they clearly had it in mind, as their main concern was to ensure that the protection it had afforded should now be enlarged to cover not merely such assault as had been suffered by Richard Cheddar, but all cases of trespass, offence and damage.
It was in fact in the very next Parliament (July-December 1433) that the Commons were sufficiently disturbed by a breach of the peace, actually committed while they were sitting, to appeal once again for legislative remedy. Recalling (in the preface to their petition) the case of Richard Cheddar and the procedure then afforded by statute, they went on to name Richard Quatermains as the victim of an assault and affray. But whereas Cheddar had been merely the servant of a shire knight, Quatermains was himself attending Parliament as a representative for Oxfordshire; and the Commons, when prompted by this brawl to ask that the statute of 1404 should be enforced in future, referred in their petition to an entitlement to legal redress on the part of MPs alone, making no mention of their servants, nor, indeed, of the lords spiritual and temporal either.
Thereafter, no such case again appears in the official record until the Parliament of 1445-6 where, on 14 Mar. 1446 (during the fourth and final session), an assault occurred once more involving a shire knight and, on this occasion, servants of his as well. The knight, Sir Thomas Parr of Kendal, who was sitting for Cumberland, himself complained by petition how their assailants (prominent among whom were the brothers, Robert and Thomas Bellingham† of Westmorland) set upon him and his party in the Vintry Ward of the City of London as he was about to go by river to Parliament, and how, in the course of the affray, some of his servants had been wounded. The Commons themselves took up the matter and, in fact, presented two separate petitions. In the first, which was the more specific, they requested that a writ should be addressed to the sheriffs of London, requiring them, on pain of a fine of £100 (half payable to the Crown, half to Parr and his servants), to make proclamations that the assailants should appear before the King’s bench on 17 May; that the latter should then be committed to the Marshalsea without bail or mainprise, pending suit by the plaintiffs and until the case was determined; and that, if they then failed to appear they should be attainted of felony, refused any plea upon a writ of error, and barred from a royal pardon. The Commons’ second petition, which, unlike the first, was enrolled among their own common petitions, was cast in more general terms, since it asked that the procedure affording protection from assault and affray should apply to lords as well as Members of the Lower House when coming to, attending, or returning from Parliament. There was also a further requirement that writs of proclamation sent to a local sheriff wherever such a ‘trespass’ had been committed should be returnable in the King’s bench, and that judicial action should follow the procedure set out in Parr’s case. Although this common petition met with only a laconic response, to the effect that existing statutes were to be observed in all points, the first one, on Parr’s behalf, was unquestionably granted in full. And, in fact, the writ of proclamation addressed to the sheriffs of London was issued by Chancery on 12 Apr. 1446 (three days after the dissolution of Parliament), delivered to them on 5 May, and executed the day after. The proclamations made in the City did not, however, achieve their immediate purpose: the defendants, required to answer before the King’s bench on 17 May, failed to appear; and accordingly they were attainted of felony, thus forfeiting their lands and goods. Even so, matters did not rest here. In the next Parliament but one, which met at Westminster in February 1449 (with Thomas Bellingham sitting for Arundel), the defendants explained that they had been too afraid to come before the King’s bench, but that they and their adversaries had since been reconciled, and Sir Thomas Parr and his servants given satisfaction. Under these circumstances, they asked that the ‘act’ of 1446 and its dependencies might be revoked and annulled by parliamentary authority, and that they themselves might not incur the forfeitures normally attached to attainder of felony. Submitted in the first place to the Commons, who sent it up to the Lords (‘soit baille as Seigneurs’) for their approval, this petition was accepted by the King, albeit with certain reservations. Any (chief) lord to whom, on account of the attainder of felony, freehold land had escheated, was to retain the property; and, similarly, any special royal grant, by patent or otherwise, of forfeited goods was also to hold good.
During the first session of the very next Parliament, begun at Westminster on 6 Nov. 1449, yet another case of assault occurred. However, this particular breach of the peace was far more serious than that of 1446, since it not only involved a murderous attack on one of the oldest and most distinguished lords of the King’s Council—Ralph, Lord Cromwell, former treasurer of the Exchequer (1433-43), the longest serving treasurer for nearly a century—but actually occurred in the palace of Westminster itself. Once formally opened there, Parliament had been immediately transferred to the London Blackfriars near Ludgate (allegedly because of the fear of contagious disease), and only returned to Westminster on 4 Dec. (for the remaining fortnight of the first session). It was at Westminster, however, that on 28 Nov., according to a petition presented by the Commons to the King, ‘many grete Lordes of your Counseill ... were assembled in your Counsaile hous, called the Sterre Chambre, within your Paleys’, where William Tailboys†, an esquire from South Kyme in Lincolnshire, broke in at the head of a large following of armed men with the intention of killing Lord Cromwell. Because of local disputes of their own, Tailboys and Cromwell were already at odds, although the riot in the council chamber had more than merely personal implications. Whereas Tailboys was a protégé and firm supporter of the duke of Suffolk, Cromwell was one of the duke’s chief political opponents, especially now that Suffolk’s position at the head of affairs had been jeopardized by the collapse of his policy in France. Indeed, Cromwell was soon to encourage the Commons to impeach him of treason and other offences. Of course, it must have been in the first session, which ended on 17 Dec., that the Commons had petitioned against Tailboys on Cromwell’s behalf, for their principal demand was that he should appear before the King’s bench on 20 Jan. 1450, two days before Parliament was due to re-assemble. Their petition to the King had also requested, with equal success, that Tailboys, who was already in prison, should be transferred to the Tower; and they had even gone so far as to urge that, following his committal, he should be held in custody there for 12 months, the constable of the Tower or his lieutenant being liable to a massive fine of £1,000 if he either escaped or (unless the judges of the bench agreed) was even released on bail. Another demand on their part was that the trial should proceed ‘by bill of Middlesex’ (as if Tailboys were in the custody of the Marshalsea); and this proposal too, although at first turned down, was eventually accepted as a means of expediting matters. This, in fact, proved to be the case: as early in the second session of Parliament as 6 Feb. (the day before the Commons first impeached Suffolk), a Middlesex jury found against Tailboys, and assessed Cromwell’s damages at £3,000. Although these were subsequently reduced to £2,000 by mutual agreement, Tailboys still remained in prison until 1455.
Less serious than the complaints occasioned by assaults, and yet by no means unimportant, were petitions in which the Commons specially requested freedom from arrest or imprisonment for one of their number, or even for a servant of his. The granting of such requests was obviously advantageous to the MPs concerned, since it temporarily suspended proceedings in any civil actions in which they might currently be involved as defendants, but it was also of course in the interests of the Crown. In strict legal theory, the issue at stake centred upon the freedom of those required by royal summons to attend Parliament to do so without let or hindrance. Indeed, when, in the Parliament of January 1404, the Commons made their first recorded claim to the privilege as a customary protection, they alleged that its frequent neglect was not simply damaging to particular individuals, but was in contempt of the King, and liable to hold up parliamentary business (‘en retardacion des bosoignes de voz Parlementz’).
At the time of his election to the Speakership (at the beginning of the Parliament which held its first session at Reading in March 1453), Thorpe was entering his fourth month as a baron of the Exchequer.
Whereas the parliamentary privilege of freedom from arrest and imprisonment had thus far given rise to two special requests on the part of the Commons, one (in 1429) successful and the other (in 1454) doomed to failure, during the next quarter of a century they were to petition for the privilege on three separate occasions (1460, 1472 and 1478), each time successfully, on behalf of a parliamentary burgess. The first of these appeals followed the detention of Walter Clerk, a lawyer of Lincoln’s Inn who had been arrested at the suit of the Crown while he was representing Chippenham, and imprisoned, first in the Counter of London and subsequently in the Fleet. He had, meanwhile, been condemned in the court of Exchequer to a fine of £40 payable to the King, as well as to fines of £20 and 20 marks arising out of two separate private actions, respectively for maintenance and trespass. At the time of his arrest, Parliament was in session. And this was the case too when, in 1472, William Hide esquire, who then happened to be sitting for Chippenham also, was imprisoned in Newgate, pending satisfaction of two Londoners, each of whom had won lawsuits against him for debt. In both instances, the Commons, when requesting the discharge of these burgesses so that they might attend to their parliamentary duties, clearly understood that release was not to prejudice the execution of any judgement at law once Parliament was dissolved.
In the course of the half-century between 1429 and 1478, the Commons had but rarely invoked by petition the privilege of freedom from arrest and imprisonment, so seldom, in fact, as to pose the question whether the privilege necessarily had depended for its allowance on such special appeals, or was in more frequent use, possibly even common use. In this connexion, it is worth remembering Chief Justice Fortescue’s advice to the Lords, in 1454, on the question of Speaker Thorpe’s release from prison, since he had emphasized that, although there could be ‘no generall Supersedeas brought to surcease of all processes ... ther be many and diverse Supersedeas of [deriving from] Privelegge of Parlement brought in to the Courtes’.
Although, in Henry IV’s first Parliament, the Commons referred (in relation to Haxey’s case of 1397) to their ‘customs’ and ‘liberties’ in the plural, as, indeed, the Speaker was subsequently to do from time to time, these other, additional privileges were neither specified nor defined.
Curiously, not one single medieval Parliament roll refers to the privilege of free speech as such, and on the solitary occasion when the privilege was actually claimed, it was not through a request initiated by the Commons, but in a private bill addressed and presented to them, during the Parliament of 1455-6. Presumably in the first session of July 1455, Thomas Young, a lawyer who for the past 20 years had all but once (in 1453) represented Bristol, complained that, despite exemplary behaviour in earlier Parliaments, he had, soon after his last previous appearance in May 1451, been arrested and then summarily imprisoned in the Tower.
Unfortunately, when the Commons’ privilege of free speech seems next to have been defined and then significantly developed, we are obliged to rely not upon a formal record or document which refers to it at the time, but a literary source, The Lyfe of Sir Thomas Moore Knighte, written by William Roper†, More’s son-in-law.
It may therefore like your most aboundant grace, our most benigne and godly kinge, to give all your comons heare assembled your most gracious licens and pardon, freely, withoute doubte of your dreadful displeasure, every man to discharge his consciens, and boldlye in every thinge incident among [us] to declare his advise; and whatsoever happen any man to say, [that] it may like your noble maiestye, of your inestimable goodnes, to take all in goode parte, interpreting every mans wordes, howe unconingly soever they be couched, to proceed yeat of good zeale towards the profit of your realme and honor of your royall persone, the prosperous estate and preservation whereof, most excellent soveraigne, is the thinge which we all, your most loving subiectes, according to the most bounden duty of our naturall alleageans, moste highlye desire and pray for.
Roper, 14-16.
This is a remarkably eloquent passage, but one which has sometimes perhaps too readily been accepted as an exact, literal rendering of More’s request for free speech.
Whether the Parliament of 1523 had witnessed an enlargement of the Commons’ liberty of freedom of speech, or no more than its re-assertion, it was not until later still in Henry VIII’s reign that a formal concession of the privilege was, for the first time ever, registered in an official parliamentary record, namely, in the Lords Journal, for the opening session of the Parliament of 1542-4.
The allowance to the Commons of the services of certain crown employees was not, of course, a privilege of the kind discussed above, but a royal concession which in effect amounted to a privilege. It is especially notable that by 1363 (even before they were first allowed an elected Speaker), they had been assigned a particular Chancery clerk called their ‘common clerk’ (sub-clericus parliamenti), whose duty was doubtless to help with the drafting of common petitions and subsidy indentures. Eventually, a century later, the Commons had sufficiently strengthened their position to merit the appointment of a royal serjeant-at-arms, who normally waited upon the King, to attend upon them when Parliament was in session, and especially upon the Speaker. This concession apparently originated with Edward IV, at the very outset of his reign and in anticipation of his first Parliament. Enjoying a fee of 1s. a day and a grant of the livery of the suit of an esquire of the Household, John Bury is the first known of four such serjeants-at-arms who served the Commons and the Speaker in Yorkist Parliaments; and at the beginning of Henry VII’s reign the office was continued with the appointment of John Harper, yeoman and harbinger of the Household. When Bury was exempted from the Act of Resumption of 1467, and Harper from that of 1485, both were said to have been ‘chosen’ by the Commons themselves.
