And stay out!

Before Sir Robert Drury, the subject of the last post, gained his knighthood for whatever role he played in suppressing the Cornish uprising, he was elected to be a knight of the shire for Suffolk, which made him a member of parliament in the House of Commons.

According to Parliament's website, in the 15th and 16th centuries, when Sir Robert served, the knights of the shire were the most prominent members of the House of Commons. Two members were elected from each of the 37 counties under crown jurisdiction, and eventually each of the 12 Welsh counties were allowed to elect one member to send to the body. Other members of the House were burgesses who represented towns and cities.

Initially, and freeman could be elected. But in 1429 Parliament decided too many of the riffraff were being elected, and they changed the law so that only freeman who owned property that produced at least 40 shillings a year in income could be elected, eliminating those who only leased property. The law stood until 1832. 

The effect of the law, if I understand correctly, was to give a good deal of influence to the peers, who pushed for landowners who shared their interests to be elected. I assume that meant the wealthiest, most influential landowners became knights of the shire, making the House of Commons a little less common than it had been before.

In his second term in the House, Sir Robert was elected speaker of the house, a title I did not know about, being ignorant of how the parliament actually works. No idea whether being speaker tended to make the office holder a popular punching bag and scapegoat the way American speakers of the house often are. Speakers were apparently mostly elected by acclamation, with only a few recorded instances of contention for the office, and tended to be the king's preferred candidate. These days the process is different, with more candidates and the potential for a lot of voting.

In an interesting tradition, members physically drag the successful candidate to the speaker's chair. This harks back to the day when a king could execute a speaker who brought him bad news from a session. You can see why a new speaker might have once been a bit reluctant to accept the office.

The position is probably somewhat similar to that of our speaker -- presiding officer of the body responsible for organizing the chamber's business and chairing its debates. At this time, Parliament's chief duties were less legislative and more judicial. Term lengths varied from a couple of months to just more than a year. The shortest term last a bit more than a week. Parliament only sat 54 times during the 15th century.

The king usually came to all the session and gave his input. The Commons could not make any decisions unless the king was present and approved. Parliament was often called upon to approve, and thereby, legitimize the accession of a new monarch to the throne. Also, the Commons had to approve any proposed taxes, with the agreement of the House of Lords. This made sense because the members would be responsible for making sure the money was collected. 

A big change came in the 17th century. In 1640 King Charles I called parliament into session. The man he wanted to be speaker for the Commons failed to be elected, so Charles backed William Lenthall as speaker, a position he would hold for 20 years. 

Near the end of 1641, Charles decided that five leading members of the Commons were traitors, they having drafted a remonstrance detailing Charles' abuses as king. But when the Commons took up the allegations in January 1642, they decided not to take action. The king was miffed, as you might expect, and showed up the day after the decision with some 400 armed men. 

At the king's request, Lenthall vacated the chair, and the king proceeded to call for the members he accused of treason to come forward. No one moved or made a sound. The king demanded that Lenthall tell him where the accused were "kneeling." Lenthall responded by saying, "May it please your majesty, I have neither eyes to see nor tongue to speak in this place but as this House is pleased to direct me, whose servant I am here; and I humbly beg your majesty's pardon that I cannot give any other answer than this to what your majesty is pleased to demand of me."

Pretty nice way of telling the king to buzz off, don't you think? Fortunately the king decided he could pick the men out very well on his own. After studying the assembly for a while, he decided the men were not there and left in a bigger snit than he came in with, to the accompaniment of catcalls from the members. Since that time, the reigning monarch is not allowed to enter the House of Commons except by invitation. 

Image: By Peter Tillemans - Parliament web, Public Domain, commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5942464