Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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THE PLEASURES OF RESEARCH ORD TWEEDSMUIR has written in his memoirs that to be wholly devoted to some intellectual exercise is to have succeeded in life . We know that the happiest moments he spent were the short periods he could snatch from official duties to devote himself to the pursuit he loved — writing. Of his prowess, his books are living witnesses. It is not given to all of us to succeed as he succeeded, but it seems to me many of us could in a smaller way achieve an equal amount of happiness, if we too would give ourselves some permanent intellectual interest in life, whatever the field. Whether we dig up the past or delve into old manuscripts, whether we classify bacteria or search for butterflies, I firmly believe that there is no happier body of people in the world than the humble searchers after truth in these many fields. Their individual contributions to learning may be slight, but their pleasure in adding their mite to the common fund of knowledge is immeasurably great. They gain personally too in that they create for themselves an interest which no outside event can touch; a refuge in times of stress, a bond with life through the passing years. To many the recreation of the past through a study of its documents has proved a fascinating occupation. There are few joys equal to the discovery of a set of MSS. that will tell the story of some episode in which you are particularly interested. For myself, I can imagine few greater pleasures than to discover the whereabouts of some docu- ments relating to that study which I hope to make my contribution to historical research — the history of the great Fleet prison in London. The prison was, alas, burnt down several times, and its records probably perished with the buildings, but I still hope that in the attic of some old English country house, or in some solicitor ' s office, there lie hidden those old calf-bound books and rolls of sheepskin that will help me to piece together the history of one of the most fascinating and notorious of English prisons. [24]

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the society of my elders . In August 1901 he accepted the invitation of Lord Milner to go with him to South Africa and work on the reconstruction there. This was the begin- ning of his great public career which ended in the Government House of Canada. But fame and publicity made very little difference to Lord Tweedsmuir. He retained all his old heroes in history and wrote his three great biographies upon them — Cromwell , Montrose ' , and Augustus . The stern Calvanism of his boyhood was mellowed and broadened, but lost none of its vigour. He retained too all his boyish zest for adventure which had led him to walk from Cambridge to Oxford (eighty miles) in twenty-four hours, on a dare. And when he came to Canada it was more the minister ' s son going on a rich adventure with friends and equals, than an English Baron coming as the representative of the Crown to a great Dominion. I only once had the opportunity of seeing Lord Tweedmuir and of hearing him speak. It was a hot evening late in June, but the Church of St. Andrew and St. Paul was filled. What impressed me most was not his scholarship, although that could scarcely be overlooked, but his clear thinking, the mellow tone of his voice, and his quiet, half- hidden, but keen sense of humour. When Louis XIII learnt of the death of Cardinal Richelieu he said A great states- man has departed . We might well say this of Lord Tweedsmuir for he was undoubtedly the most outstanding Governor-General Canada ever possessed. But we will never for- get that, besides being a great politician, a great historian, and a great novelist, he was also a great man. He possessed those very qualities which he most admired in others. Realism, coloured by poetry: a stalwart independence sweetened by courtesy; a shrewd and kindly wisdom. Allana Reid, Senior Matriculation, Barclay House. [23]

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The Fleet prison stood on the same site in Farringdon St. for almost eight hundred years. During that period prisons were not the sort of places we know them to be today — places of punishment and reform — but places of safe custody where persons await- ing trial might be kept; where those who had offended against the King might be de- tained at pleasure, and where debtors might be immured until such time as they could pay both their creditors and their gaolers. From the nature of their function arose a system of prison administration which seems fantastic to the modern reader. So fan- tastic indeed, that a wily prisoner of long standing could arrange to spend his winters enjoying the comforts of the Fleet prison in the city, and his summers in the Marshalsea prison situated in the cool green fields of Southwark. The wardenship of the Fleet prison was an important and lucrative position which was held throughout the Middle Ages by one family as a grand serjeanty or hereditary office. On several occasions it descended to widows and daughters who held the office in their own right until they married and their husb ands took it over. One enterprising prisoner succeeded in marrying the warden, thus securing his liberation because a man could not legally be the prisoner of his own wife ! From the sixteenth century the warden- ship was sold for sums which rarely fell short of $20,000. The very size of these sums indicates the amount of money to be made from the office. Once a prisoner was formally handed over, the warden was responsible for his safe custody, and was bound to pro- duce him in court as occasion arose. If, as frequently happened, a prisoner escaped, the warden was fined heavily. As he was entirely responsible for his prisoners he could allow them any liberties he chose, and thus arose the practice of permitting prisoners to leave the prison in charge of a warden. If he could pay for the privilege, a prisoner coujd have leave of absence for a month at a time. Within the prison itself, there existed a degree of freedom inconceivable now. The warden ' s jurisdiction extended beyond the actual walls of the prison, covering an enclosure around it similar to that of many cathedral closes. From time to time wardens had erected blocks of buildings within this area, which were divided into chambers let to those who could afford them. There was often considerable competition for these chambers, — the tenants could not be ejected as long as they paid their rent, when they went out, they locked their doors behind them, and the warden could not legally force an entrance. Here they lived with their wives and children, receiving visitors as they chose, and at complete liberty within the prescribed area. Only the artistocracy among the prisoners lived in chambers, but even the motley rabble in the actual prison were graded according to the amount they could pay, from the comparat ive elegance of the Parlour Chambers down to the Beggars ' Ward, where nothing was paid and nothing received. The warden ' s sole responsibility was the safe keeping of his prisoners, and he was not obliged to supply them with food or bedding. To those who could pay, he sold at his own price, food, drink, and fuel; those who could not pay lived on scraps of charity or starved to death. Ironically enough the warden charged each prisoner a fee for the liberty of the house on coming into prison, and another fee before he could leave it. As the warden and his underlings preyed on the prisoners, so they preyed on one [25]