[9]Reprinted by kind permission of the publishers.
[9]Reprinted by kind permission of the publishers.
Source.—Statutes of the Realm.Vol. v., pp. 935-938.
I. Whereas great delays have been used by sheriffs, gaolers, and other officers, to whose custody any of the King's subjects have been committed for criminal or supposed criminal matters, in making returns of writs ofHabeas Corpusto them directed, by standing out anAliasandPluries Habeas Corpus, and sometimes more, and by other shifts to avoid their yielding obedience to such writs, contrary to their duty and the known laws of the land, whereby many of the King's subjects have been, and hereafter may be long detained in prison, in such cases where by law they are bailable, to their great charges and vexation:—
II. For the prevention whereof, and for the more speedy relief of all persons imprisoned for any such criminal or supposed criminal matters, Be it enacted by the King's most excellent Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the lords spiritual and temporal, and commons in this present Parliament assembled, and by the authority thereof, that whensoever any person or persons shall bring anyHabeas Corpusdirected unto any sheriff or sheriffs, gaoler, minister, or other person whatsoever, for any person in his or their custody, and the said writ shall be served upon the said officer, or left at the gaol or prison, with any of the officers, ... then the said officers ... shall within three days after the service thereof as aforesaid (unless the commitment aforesaid were for treason or felony, plainly or specially expressed in the warrant of commitment) upon payment or tender of the charges of bringing the said prisoner, to be ascertained by the judge or court that awarded the same, and indorsed upon the said writ, not exceeding twelvepence per mile, and upon security given by his own bond to pay the charges of carrying back the prisoner, if he shall be remanded by the court or judge to which he shall be brought according to the true intent of his present act, and that he will not make any escape by the way, make return of such writ; and bring orcause to be brought, the body of the person so committed or restrained, unto or before the Lord Chancellor, or Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of England for the time being, or the judges or barons of the said court from whence the said writ shall issue, or unto or before such other person or persons before whom the said writ is made returnable according to the command thereof; and shall then likewise certify the true causes of his detainer or imprisonment, unless the commitment of the said party be in any place beyond the distance of twenty miles from the place or places where such court or person is, or shall be, residing: and if beyond the distance of twenty miles, and not above one hundred miles, then within the space of ten days; and if beyond the distance of one hundred miles, then within the space of twenty days, after such delivery and not longer.
III. And to the intent that no sheriff, gaoler, or other officer, may pretend ignorance of the import of any such writ, Be it enacted ... that all such writs shall be marked in this manner,per statutum tricesimo primo Caroli secundi regis, and shall be signed by the person that awards the same; and if any person or persons shall be or stand committed or detained as aforesaid, for any crime (except for felony or treason plainly expressed in the warrant of commitment), in the vacation time, and out of term, it shall ... be lawful ... for the person or persons so committed ... or any one on his or their behalf to appeal or complain to the Lord Chancellor, or Lord Keeper, or any one of his Majesty's justices, either of the one bench or of the other, or the barons of the Exchequer of the degree of the coif and the said Lord Chancellor, Lord Keeper, justices, or barons, or any of them ... are hereby ... required, upon request made in writing by such person or persons, or any or his, her or their behalf, attested and subscribed by two witnesses who were present at the delivery of the same, to ... grant aHabeas Corpus... to be directed to the officer ... in whose custody the party ... detained shall be; returnable immediate before the said Lord Chancellor, Lord Keeper [&c.].
IV. And upon service thereof ..., the officer ... in whose custody the party is so ... detained, shall, within the times respectively before limited, bring such prisoner or prisoners before the said Lord Chancellor, or Lord Keeper, or such justices and barons, or one of them ... with ... the true cause of the commitment or detainer. And thereupon, within two days after the party shall be brought before them, the said Lord Chancellor, Lord Keeper [&c.] ... shall discharge the said prisoner from his imprisonment, taking his or their recognizance, with one or more surety or sureties, in any sum according to their discretions, having regard to the quality of the prisoner and nature of the offence, for his or their appearance in the Court of King's Bench the term following, or at the next assizes, sessions, or general gaol-delivery of and for such county, city, or place where the commitment was, or where the offence was committed ... unless it shall appear to the said Lord Chancellor, or Lord Keeper [&c.] ... that the party is detained upon a legal process, order, or warrant, out of some court that hath jurisdiction of criminal matters, or by some warrant signed and sealed with the hand and seal of any of the said justices or barons, or some justices or justices of the peace, for such matters or offences for the which by the law the prisoner is not bailable.
V. And ... if any officer ... shall neglect or refuse ... to bring the body ... of the prisoner according to the command of the said writ, within the respective times aforesaid, or upon demand made by the prisoner or person in his behalf, shall refuse to deliver ... a true copy of the warrant ... of commitment ... of such prisoner, ... such person ... shall for the first offence forfeit to the prisoner ... the sum of one hundred pounds, and for the second offence the sum of two hundred pounds, and shall ... be made incapable to hold or execute his said office.
VI. And ... no person or persons which shall be delivered or set at large upon anyHabeas Corpusshall at any time hereafter be again imprisoned or committed for the same offence ... other than by the legal order and process of suchcourt wherein he or they shall be bound by recognizance to appear, or other court having jurisdiction of the cause. And if any other person or persons shall knowingly, contrary to this Act, recommit or imprison, for the same offence ... any person or persons delivered or set at large as aforesaid, ... then he or they shall forfeit to the prisoner ... the sum of five hundred pounds.
VII. Provided always ... That if any person or persons shall be committed for high treason or felony, plainly and specially expressed in the warrant of commitment, upon his ... petition in open court the first week of term, or the first day of the sessions ofOyer and Terminer,[10]or general gaol-delivery, to be brought to his trial, shall not be indicted some time in the next term, sessions ofOyer and Terminer, or general gaol-delivery, after such commitment; it shall be lawful to and for the judges of the Court of King's Bench, and justices ofOyer and Terminer, or general gaol-delivery ... to set at liberty the prisoner upon bail, unless it appear to the judges and justices ... that the witnesses for the King could not be produced.... And if such person ... shall not be indicted and tried the second term, sessions ofOyer and Terminer, or general gaol-delivery, after his commitment, or upon his trial shall be acquitted, he shall be discharged from his imprisonment.
VIII. Provided always That nothing in this act shall extend to discharge out of prison any person charged in debt, or other action, or with process in any civil cause, but that after he shall be discharged of his imprisonment for such his criminal offence, he shall be kept in custody according to the law, for such other suit.
X. Provided always ... That it shall and may be lawful to and for any prisoner or prisoners as aforesaid to move and obtain his or theirHabeas Corpusas well out of the high court of chancery or court of exchequer, as out of the courts of king's bench or common pleas, or either of them; and ifthe said Lord Chancellor, or Lord Keeper, or any judge ... of any of the courts aforesaid, in the vacation time, upon view of the copy or copies of the warrant or warrants of commitment or detainer, or upon oath made that such copy or copies were denied as aforesaid, shall deny any writ ofHabeas Corpusby this act required to be granted, being moved for as aforesaid, they shall severally forfeit to the prisoner or party grieved the sum of five hundred pounds.
XI. And be it ... enacted ... That anHabeas Corpus... may be directed and run into any county palatine, the cinque ports, or other privileged places within the kingdom of England, dominion of Wales, or town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, and the islands of Jersey or Guernsey, any law or usage to the contrary notwithstanding.
XII. And for preventing illegal imprisonments ... beyond the seas, be it ... enacted ... That no subject of this realm that now is, or hereafter shall be an inhabitant or resident of this kingdom ... shall or may be sent prisoner into Scotland, Ireland, Jersey, Guernsey, Tangier, or into parts, garrisons, islands, or places beyond the sea; and That every such imprisonment is hereby ... adjudged to be illegal.
[10]A judicial commission to hear and determine cases of treason, felony, and misdemeanours.
[10]A judicial commission to hear and determine cases of treason, felony, and misdemeanours.
Source.—Burnet'sHistory of His Own Times. Pp. 156-164. Abridged edition, 1841.
On Michaelmas-eve Oates was brought before the Council, and entertained them with a long relation of many discourses he had heard among the Jesuits, and of their design to kill the King. He named persons, places, and times, almost without number. He said many Jesuits had disguised themselves, and were gone into Scotland, and held field conventicles there to distract the Government; that he was sent to St. Omer's, thence to Paris, and from thence to Spain; that there was a great meeting at St. Clement's; and that the result of their consultation was a resolution to kill the King by shooting, stabbing or poisoning him, and that Colemanwas privy to the whole design. This was the substance of what he declared the first day; whereupon many Jesuits were seized that night and next day, and their papers sealed up.
There were many things in this declaration that made it look like an imposture. Oates did not know Coleman at first, but when he heard him speak in his own defence, he named him; he named Wakeman, the Queen's physician, though he did not know him at all; Langhorne who was the great manager for the Jesuits, he did not name; and when the King asked him what sort of man Don John (with whom he pretended to be intimate) was, he answered he was a tall, lean man, when the King knew him to be the very reverse. These were strong indications of a forgery. But what took away that suspicion was the contents of Coleman's letters, since by them it appeared that so many years ago the design of converting the nation and rooting out the northern heresy, as they called it, was so near its execution, since in them the Duke's great zeal was often mentioned with honour and many indecent reflections made on the King for his inconstancy and disposition to be brought to anything for money: and since by them their dependence was expressed to lie in the French King's assistance, and his expeditious conclusion of a general peace, as the only means that could finish their design.
A few days after this, a very extraordinary thing happened, that contributed more and more to confirm the belief of this evidence. Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey was an eminent justice of peace who lived near Whitehall. He had stayed in London and had kept things in order in the time of the plague, which gained him great reputation and for which he was afterwards knighted. A zealous Protestant he was, and a true lover of the Church of England, but had kind thoughts of the nonconformists, was not forward to execute the laws against them, and to avoid doing that, was not apt to search for priests or mass-houses, so that few men of the like zeal lived on better terms with the Papists than he. Oates went to him the day before he appeared at the Council-board, and declaredupon oath the narrative he intended to make, which Godfrey afterwards published a little imprudently, and was thereupon severely chid for seeming to distrust the Privy Council, and presuming to intermeddle in so tender a matter.
On Saturday, October 12th, he went abroad in the morning, was seen about one o'clock near St. Clement's Church, but was seen no more till his body was found, on the Thursday night following, in a ditch about a mile out of town near St. Pancras Church. His sword was thrust through him, but no blood was on his clothes or about him; his shoes were clean, his money was in his pocket; a mark was all round his neck, which showed he was strangled; his breast was bruised; his neck was broken, and there were many drops of white wax-lights on his breeches, which being only used by priests and persons of quality, made people imagine in whose hands he had been.
Oates's evidence was, by means of this murder, so far believed that it was not safe to seem to doubt of it; and when the Parliament met, he was called before the bar of the House of Commons, where he made a fresh discovery. He said that the Pope had declared England to be his kingdom, and accordingly had sent over commissions to make Lord Arundel of Wardour, Chancellor; Lord Powys, Treasurer; Sir William Godolphin, then in Spain, Privy Seal; Coleman, Secretary of State; Belasyse, General of the Army; Petre, Lieutenant-General; Ratcliffe, Major-General; Stafford, Paymaster-General; and Langhorne, Advocate-General; besides many other commissions for subaltern officers. And he now swore, upon his own knowledge, that both Coleman and Wakeman were in the plot; that Coleman had given eighty guineas to four ruffians to murder the King at Windsor; and that Wakeman had undertaken to poison him for £15,000; and he excused his not knowing them before by the fatigue and want of rest he had been under for two nights before, which made him not master of himself.
There were great inconsistencies in all this. That one man should not know another that was a principal in a plot wherein he himself was concerned; that one man should have£15,000 for a safe way of dispatching, and four but twenty guineas apiece for doing it openly; that he should love the King so well as he then pretended, and yet suffer these ruffians to go down to kill him, without giving notice of the danger—these and some other incongruities in the pretended commissions (for Belasyse was perpetually gouty, Petre was no military man, and Ratcliffe lived chiefly in the north), were characters sufficient of a fictitious discovery, had not some other incidents concurred to give it a further confirmation.
Bedloe, a man of a very vicious life, delivered himself to the magistrates of Bristol, pretending he knew the secret of Godfrey's murder, and accordingly was brought to London and examined by the Secretary. He said he had seen Godfrey's body at Somerset House, and was offered by Lord Belasyse's servant £4,000 to assist in carrying it away, whereupon he had gone out of town as far as Bristol, but was so pursued with horror that he could not forbear discovering it, but at the same time denied that he knew anything of the plot, till, on the next day, when he was brought to the bar of the House of Lords, he made a full discovery of it, confirming the chief points of Oates's evidence.
While things were in this ferment at London, Carstairs came from Scotland to complain of Duke Lauderdale. He had brought up such witnesses as he always had by him to prove the thing,[11]and as he was looking about for a lucky piece of villainy, he chanced to go into an eating-house in Covent Garden, where one Staley, a Popish banker, was in the next room, and pretended that he heard him say in French that the King was a rogue, and persecuted the people of God, and that he himself would stab him if nobody else would. With these words he and one of his witnesses went to him next day, and threatened to swear them against him unless he would give them a sum of money. The poor man foresaw his danger, but he chose rather to leave himself to their malice than become their prey; so he was apprehended, and in five days brought to his trial. The witnesses gave full evidenceagainst him to the purpose above mentioned, nor could he offer anything to invalidate their credit. All that he urged was, the improbability of his saying such dangerous words in a quarter of the town where almost everybody understood French; so he was cast, and prepared himself seriously for death, all along protesting that he knew of no plot, nor had ever said the words sworn against him, nor anything to that purpose.
There was one accident now fell in that tended not a little to impair Oates's credit. He had declared before the House of Lords that he had then informed concerning all persons of any distinction that he knew to be engaged in the plot, and yet after that he deposed that the Queen had a great share in it, and was, in his hearing, consenting to the King's death. But his pretence for not accusing her before was so lame and frivolous that it would not satisfy people, though Bedloe, to support his evidence, swore things of the like nature.
When Coleman was brought to his trial, Oates and Bedloe swore flatly against him what was mentioned before; and he, to invalidate their evidence, insisted on Oates's not knowing him when they were confronted; on his being in Warwickshire at the same time that Oates swore he was in town; and on the improbability of his transacting such dangerous matters with two such men as he had never seen before. His letters to Père la Chaise were the heaviest part of the evidence, and to these he did not deny but that he had intentions to bring in the Catholic religion, but only by a toleration, not by rebellion or blood, and that the aid he had requested from France for that purpose was meant only of the advance of some money and the interposition of that Court. After a long trial he was found guilty and sentence passed upon him to die as a traitor. He suffered with much composedness and devotion, and died much better than he lived, denying with his last breath every tittle of what the witnesses had sworn against him, though many were sent from both Houses, offering to interpose for his pardon if he would confess.
The nation was now so much alarmed that all people were furnishing themselves with arms, and a bill passed bothHouses for raising the militia, and for keeping it together for six weeks, but the King rejected it, though he gave his consent to the disbanding the army; wherein the Commons were so diffident of him that they ordered the money to be brought, not into the Exchequer, but into the Chamber of London, and appointed a committee of their own members for paying it off and disbanding it.
The courts of justice in the meanwhile were not idle, for in December, Ireland the Jesuit, and Grove and Pickering, two servants in the Queen's Chapel, were brought to their trial. Oates and Bedloe swore home against Ireland that in August last he had given particular orders for killing the King; but he, in his defence, by many witnesses endeavoured to prove that on the 2nd of August he went into Staffordshire, and did not return till the 12th of September. Yet, in opposition to that a woman swore that she saw him in London about the middle of August; and so, because he might have come up post in one day and gone down in another, this did not satisfy. Against Grove and Pickering they swore that they undertook to kill the King at Windsor; that Grove was to have £1,500 for doing it, and Pickering thirty thousand masses, which at twelvepence a mass, amounts to the same money; that they attempted it three several times, but that once the flint was loose, at another time there was no powder in the pan, and at a third the pistol was only charged with bullets. This was strange stuff, but all was imputed to a Divine Providence. So the evidences were credited, and the prisoners condemned and executed, but they denied to the last every particular that was sworn against them.
This began to shake the credit of the evidence, when a more composed and credible person came in to support it. One Dugdale, who had been bailiff to Lord Aston, and lived in a fair reputation in the country, when he was put in prison for refusing to take the oaths of allegiance and supremacy, denied absolutely that he knew anything of the plot, but made afterwards great discoveries. He said that the Jesuits in London had acquainted Evers, Lord Aston's Jesuit, with thedesign of killing the King, and desired him to find out proper men to execute it; that Evers and Gavan, another Jesuit, had pressed him to undertake it; that they had promised to canonise him for it, and Lord Aston offered him £500 if he would set about it. And one instance to confirm the truth of what he asserted was his speaking in a public company (as several testified) of Godfrey's death, the Tuesday after he was missing, which he swore he saw in a letter written by Harcourt to Evers, which letter must have been sent on the very night that Godfrey was killed.
At the same time, a particular discovery was made of Godfrey's murder. Prance, a goldsmith that wrought for the Queen's Chapel, was seized upon suspicion; and as Bedloe was accidentally going by, knowing nothing of the matter, was challenged by him to be one of those whom he saw about Godfrey's body. Prance denied everything at first, but made afterwards this confession; that Gerald and Kelly, two priests, engaged him and three others in this wicked deed—Green, who belonged to the Queen's Chapel; Hill, who had served Godden, one of their famous writers; and Berry, the Porter of Somerset House; that they had several meetings wherein the priests persuaded them that it was a meritorious action to dispatch Godfrey, in order to deter others from being so busy against them; that the morning before they killed him Hill went to his house to see if he was yet gone out, and spoke to his maid; that they waited his coming out, and dogged him all day, till he came to a place near St. Clement's, where he stayed till night; that as Godfrey passed by Somerset House water-gate two of them pretending to quarrel, another ran out to call a justice, and with much importunity prevailed with him to come and pacify them; that as he was coming along Green got behind him and threw a twisted cravat about his neck, and so pulled him down and strangled him; and that Gerald would have run his sword through him, but was hindered by the rest lest the blood might discover them; that when the murder was done, they carried the body into Godden's room (for he was in France) and Hill had the keyof it; that two days after they removed it into a room across the upper court, but that being thought not so convenient, they carried it back to Godden's lodging; that on Wednesday night they carried it out in a sedan, and when they had got clear of the town Green carried it on horseback to the place where it was found.
This was a consistent story, which was supported in some circumstances by collateral proofs; and yet when he came before the King and Council he denied all he had sworn, and said it was a mere fiction; but when he was carried back to prison, he said all was true again, and that the horror and confusion he was in made him deny it. Thus he continued saying and unsaying for several times; but at last he persisted in his first attestation, and by this and what Bedloe brought in evidence against them, Green, Hill, and Berry were found guilty and condemned. Green and Hill died, as they had lived, Papists, and with solemn protestations denied the whole thing; but Berry declared himself a Protestant, though he had personated a Papist for bread, for which dissimulation he thought this judgment had befallen him. But he denied what was charged against him, and to the last minute declared himself altogether innocent; and his dying a Protestant and yet denying all that was sworn against him, was a triumph to the Papists, and gave them an opportunity to say that it was not the doctrine of equivocation, nor the power of absolution, but merely the force of conviction that made those of their religion do the same.
The Lord Chief Justice at this time was Sir William Scroggs, a man more valued for a good readiness in speaking well than either learning in his profession or any moral virtue. His life had been indecently scandalous, and his fortune very low; and it was a melancholy thing to see so bad, so ignorant and so poor a man raised up to that high post. Yet now, seeing how the stream ran, he went into it with so much zeal and heartiness that he became the people's favourite and strove in all trials even with an indecent earnestness to get the prisoners convicted.
But their resolute manner of dying and protestations of innocence to the last began to make impression on people's minds, and impair the credit both of the judge and witnesses, till one Jennison, the younger brother of a Jesuit, and a gentleman of family and estate, but now turned Protestant, came in, as it were, to their relief; for in contradiction to what Ireland died affirming,i.e.that he was in Staffordshire at the time that Oates swore he was in London, he wrote a letter to a friend attesting that he was in company with Ireland on the 19th of August, and had much familiar talk with him, so that his dying affirmations were false. The letter was printed, and this use was made of it to vacate the truth of those denials wherewith so many ended their lives. But what afterwards destroyed the credit of the letter was the solemn protestation that the author made, as he desired forgiveness of his sins and hoped for the salvation of his soul, that he knew nothing of the plot; and yet the summer after he published a long narrative, wherein he said that himself was invited to assist in the murder of the King, and named the four ruffians who went to Windsor to do it.
While the witnesses were thus weakening their own credit, some practices were discovered that did very much support it. Reading, a lawyer of some subtlety, but no virtue, who was employed by the lords in the Tower to solicit their affairs, had offered Bedloe some money of his own accord (as it afterwards appeared) to mollify his evidence against the lords, and had drawn up a paper to show him by how small a variation in his depositions he might bring them off. But Bedloe was too cunning for him. He had acquainted Prince Rupert and the Earl of Essex with the whole negotiation, and placed two witnesses in his room, when he drew Reading into a renewal of the proposal so commodiously that the attempt of corruption was plainly proved upon him, and he was set in the pillory for it. Some that belonged to the Earl of Danby conversed much with Oates's servants, who told him that their master was daily speaking odious things against the King; and one of them affirmed that he had once made anabominable attempt upon him. But when Oates smelt this out, he soon turned the tables upon them; for he prevailed with his servants to deny all, and had the others set in the pillory as defamers of the King's evidence. And to bring things of the same sort all together, one Tashborough, who belonged to the Duke's Court, proposed to Dugdale, in the Duke's name, but without his authority, that he should sign a retraction of what he had sworn, and go beyond seas, and have a considerable reward for so doing. But the other outwitted him likewise, and proving such practices upon him, had him both fined and set in the pillory.
[11]I.e., his case against Lauderdale.
[11]I.e., his case against Lauderdale.
Source.—Evelyn'sDiary. Vol. ii., pp. 158-163. Bohn edition.
November 30.The signal day begun the trial (at which I was present) of my Lord Vicount Stafford, for conspiring the death of the King; second son to my Lord Thomas Howard Earl of Arundel and Surrey, Earl Marshall of England, and grandfather to the present Duke of Norfolk, whom I so well knew, and from which excellent person I received so many favours. It was likewise his birthday. The trial was in Westminster-Hall, before the King, Lords, and Commons; just in the same manner as, forty years past, the great and wise Earl of Strafford (there being but one letter differing their names) received his trial for pretended ill government in Ireland, in the very same place, this Lord Stafford's father being then High-Steward. The place of sitting was now exalted some considerable height from the paved floor of the Hall, with a stage of boards. The throne, woolpacks for the Judges, long forms for the Peers, chair for the Lord Steward, exactly ranged, as in the House of Lords. The sides on both hands scaffolded to the very roof for the members of the House of Commons. At the upper end, and on the right side of the King's state, was a box for his Majesty, and on the left, others for the great ladies, and over head a gallery for ambassadors and public ministers. At the lower end, orentrance, was a bar, and place for the prisoner, the Lieutenant of the Tower of London, the axe-bearer and guards, my Lord Stafford's two daughters, the Marchioness of Winchester being one; there was likewise a box for my Lord to retire into. At the right hand, in another box, somewhat higher, stood the witnesses; at the left, the managers, in the name of the Commons of England, namely, Serjeant Maynard (the great lawyer, the same who prosecuted the cause against the Earl of Strafford forty years before, being now near eighty years of age), Sir William Jones, late Attorney-General, Sir Francis Winnington, a famous pleader, and Mr. Treby, now Recorder of London, not appearing in their gowns as lawyers, but in their cloaks and swords, as representing the Commons of England: to these were joined Mr. Hampden, Dr. Sacheverell, Mr. Poule, Colonel Titus, Sir Thomas Lee, all gentlemen of quality, and noted parliamentary men. The two first days, in which were read the commission and impeachment, were but a tedious entrance into matter of fact, at which I was but little present. But, on Thursday, I was commodiously seated amongst the Commons, when the witnesses were sworn and examined. The principal witnesses were Mr. Oates (who called himself Dr.), Mr. Dugdale, and Turberville. Oates swore that he delivered a commission to Viscount Stafford from the Pope, to be Paymaster-General to an army intended to be raised;—Dugdale [swore] that being at Lord Aston's, the prisoner dealt with him plainly to murder his Majesty; and Turberville, that at Paris he also proposed the same to him.
3rd December.The depositions of my Lord's witnesses were taken, to invalidate the King's witnesses; they were very slight persons, but, being fifteen or sixteen, they took up all that day, and in truth they rather did my Lord injury than service.
4th.Came other witnesses of the Commons to corroborate the King's, some being Peers, some Commons, with others of good quality, who took off all the former day's objections, and set the King's witnessesrecti in Curiâ.
6th.Sir William Jones summoned up the evidence; to him succeeded all the rest of the managers, and then Mr. Henry Poule made a vehement oration. After this my Lord, as on all occasions, and often during the trial, spoke in his own defence, denying the charge altogether, and that he had never seen Oates, or Turberville, at the time and manner affirmed; in truth, their testimony did little weigh with me; Dugdale's only seemed to press hardest, to which my Lord spake a great while, but confusedly, without any method.
One thing my Lord said as to Oates, which I confess did exceedingly affect me: That a person who during his depositions should so vauntingly brag that though he went over to the church of Rome, yet he was never a Papist, nor of their religion, all the time that he seemed to apostatise from the Protestant, but only as a spy; though he confessed he took their sacrament, worshipped images, went through all their oaths, and discipline of their proselites, swearing secrecy and to be faithful, but with intent to come over again and betray them;—that such an hypocrite, that had so deeply prevaricated as even to turn idolator (for so we of the Church of England termed it), attesting God so solemnly that he was entirely theirs and devoted to their interest, and consequently (as he pretended) trusted;—I say, that the witness of such a profligate wretch should be admitted against the life of a peer,—this my Lord looked upon as a monstrous thing, and such as must needs redound to the dishonour of our religion and nation. And verily I am of his Lordship's opinion: such a man's testimony should not be taken against the life of a dog. But the merit of something material which he discovered against Coleman, put him in such esteem with the Parliament, that now, I fancy he stuck at nothing, and thought everybody was to take what he said for gospel. The consideration of this, and some other circumstances, began to stagger me; particularly how it was possible that one who went among the Papists on such a design, and pretended to be intrusted with so many letters and commissions from the Pope and the party, nay and delivered them to so many greatpersons, should not reserve one of them to show, nor so much as one copy of any commission, which he who had such dexterity in opening letters might certainly have done, to the undeniable conviction of those whom he accused; but, as I said, he gained credit on Coleman. But, as to others whom he so madly flew upon, I am little inclined to believe his testimony, he being so slight a person, so passionate, so ill-bred, and of such impudent behaviour; nor is it likely that such piercing politicians as the Jesuits should trust him with so high and so dangerous secrets.
7th December.On Tuesday I was again at the trial, when judgment was demanded; and, after my Lord had spoken what he could in denying the fact, the managers answering the objections, the Peers adjourned to their House, and within two hours returned again. There was, in the meantime, this question put to the judges, "whether there being but one witness to any single crime, or act, it could amount to convict a man of treason." They gave an unanimous opinion that in case of treason they all were overt acts, for though no man should be condemned by one witness for any one act, yet for several acts to the same intent it was valid; which was my Lord's case. This being past, and the Peers in their seats again, the Lord Chancellor Finch (this day the Lord High-Steward) removing to the woolsack next his Majesty's state, after summoning the lieutenant of the tower to bring forth his prisoner, and proclamation made for silence, demanded of every peer (who were in all eighty-six) whether William, Lord Viscount Stafford, were guilty of the treason laid to his charge, or not guilty.
Then the Peer spoken to, standing up, and laying his right hand upon his breast, said Guilty, or Not Guilty, upon my honour, and then sat down, the Lord Steward noting their suffrages as they answered upon a paper: when all had done, the number of Not guilty being but 31, the Guilty 55: and then, after proclamation for silence again, the Lord Steward directing his speech to the prisoner, against whom the axe was turned edgeways and not before, in aggravation of hiscrime, he being ennobled by the King's father, and since received many favours from his present Majesty: after enlarging on his offence, deploring first his own unhappiness that he who had never condemned any man before should now be necessitated to begin with him, he then pronounced sentence of death by hanging, drawing, and quartering, according to form, with great solemnity and dreadful gravity; and after a short pause, told the prisoner that he believed the Lords would intercede for the omission of some circumstances of his sentence, beheading only excepted; and then breaking his white staff, the Court was dissolved. My Lord Stafford during all this latter part spake but little, and only gave their Lordships thanks after the sentence was pronounced; and indeed behaved himself modestly, and as became him.
It was observed that all his own relations of his name and family condemned him, except his nephew, the Earl of Arundel, son to the Duke of Norfolk. And it must be acknowledged that the whole trial was carried on with exceeding gravity: so stately and august appearance I had never seen before; for besides the innumerable spectators of gentlemen and foreign ministers, who saw and heard all the proceedings, the prisoner had the consciences of all the Commons of England for his accusers, and all the Peers to be his Judges and Jury. He had likewise the assistance of what counsel he would, to direct him in his plea, who stood by him. And yet I can hardly think that a person of his age and experience should engage men whom he never saw before (and one of them that came to visit him as a stranger at Paris)point blankto murder the King: God only who searches hearts, can discover the truth. Lord Stafford was not a man beloved, especially of his own family.
*****
22nd.A solemn public Fast that God would prevent all Popish plots, avert his judgments, and give a blessing to the proceedings of parliament now assembled, and which struck at the succession of the Duke of York.
29th.The Viscount Stafford was beheaded on Tower-hill.
Source.—Dryden'sAbsalom and Achitophel.
... The false Achitophel[12]was ...A name to all succeeding ages curst.For close designs and crooked counsels fit,Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit,Restless, unfixed in principles and place,In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace;A fiery soul, which working out its way,Fretted the pigmy body to decay,And o'er-informed the tenement of clay.A daring pilot in extremity,Pleased with the danger, when the wave went high,He sought the storms; but, for a calm unfit,Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.Great wits are sure to madness near allied,And thin partitions do their bounds divide.Else, why should he, with wealth and honour blest,Refuse his age the needful hours of rest?Punish a body which he could not please,Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of ease?And all to leave what with his toil he wonTo that unfeathered two-legged thing, a sonGot while his soul did huddled notions try,And born a shapeless lump, like anarchy.In friendship false, implacable in hateResolved to ruin or to rule the State.To compass this the triple bond he broke,The pillars of the public safety shook,And fitted Israel[13]for a foreign yoke.Then, seized with fear, yet still affecting fame,Usurped a patriot's all atoning name.So easy still it proves in factious timesWith public zeal to cancel private crimes.How safe is treason and how sacred ill,Where none can sin against the people's will;Where none can wink and no offence be known,Since in another's guilt they find their own!Yet fame deserved no enemy can grudge:The statesman we abhor, but praise the judge.In Israel's courts ne'er sat an Abbethdin[14]With more discerning eyes or hands more clean,Unbribed, unsought, the wretched to redress,Swift of despatch and easy of access.Oh! had he been content to serve the CrownWith virtues only proper to the gown,Or had the rankness of the soul been freedFrom cockle that oppressed the noble seed,David[15]for him his tuneful harp had strungAnd Heaven had wanted one immortal song.But, wild ambition loves to slide, not stand,And Fortune's ice prefers to Virtue's land.Achitophel, grown weary to possessA lawful fame and lazy happiness,Disdained the golden fruit to gather freeAnd lent the crowd his arm to shake the tree.Now, manifest of crimes contrived long since,He stood at bold defiance with his Prince,Held up the buckler of the people's causeAgainst the Crown, and skulked behind the laws.The wished occasion of the Plot[16]he takes;Some circumstances finds, but more he makes;By buzzing emissaries fills the earsOf listening crowds with jealousies and fearOf arbitrary counsels brought to light,And proves the King himself a Jebusite.[17]Weak arguments! which yet he knew full wellWere strong with people easy to rebel.For governed by the moon, the giddy Jews[18]Tread the same track when she the prime renews.And once in twenty years, their scribes record,By natural instinct they change their lord.Achitophel still wants a chief, and noneWas found so fit as warlike Absalom.[19]Not that he wished his greatness to create,For politicians neither love nor hate:But, for he knew his title not allowedWould keep him still depending on the crowd:That kingly power, thus ebbing out, might beDrawn to the dregs of a democracy.Him he attempts with studied arts to please.
... The false Achitophel[12]was ...A name to all succeeding ages curst.For close designs and crooked counsels fit,Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit,Restless, unfixed in principles and place,In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace;A fiery soul, which working out its way,Fretted the pigmy body to decay,And o'er-informed the tenement of clay.A daring pilot in extremity,Pleased with the danger, when the wave went high,He sought the storms; but, for a calm unfit,Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.Great wits are sure to madness near allied,And thin partitions do their bounds divide.Else, why should he, with wealth and honour blest,Refuse his age the needful hours of rest?Punish a body which he could not please,Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of ease?And all to leave what with his toil he wonTo that unfeathered two-legged thing, a sonGot while his soul did huddled notions try,And born a shapeless lump, like anarchy.In friendship false, implacable in hateResolved to ruin or to rule the State.To compass this the triple bond he broke,The pillars of the public safety shook,And fitted Israel[13]for a foreign yoke.Then, seized with fear, yet still affecting fame,Usurped a patriot's all atoning name.So easy still it proves in factious timesWith public zeal to cancel private crimes.How safe is treason and how sacred ill,Where none can sin against the people's will;Where none can wink and no offence be known,Since in another's guilt they find their own!Yet fame deserved no enemy can grudge:The statesman we abhor, but praise the judge.In Israel's courts ne'er sat an Abbethdin[14]With more discerning eyes or hands more clean,Unbribed, unsought, the wretched to redress,Swift of despatch and easy of access.Oh! had he been content to serve the CrownWith virtues only proper to the gown,Or had the rankness of the soul been freedFrom cockle that oppressed the noble seed,David[15]for him his tuneful harp had strungAnd Heaven had wanted one immortal song.But, wild ambition loves to slide, not stand,And Fortune's ice prefers to Virtue's land.Achitophel, grown weary to possessA lawful fame and lazy happiness,Disdained the golden fruit to gather freeAnd lent the crowd his arm to shake the tree.Now, manifest of crimes contrived long since,He stood at bold defiance with his Prince,Held up the buckler of the people's causeAgainst the Crown, and skulked behind the laws.The wished occasion of the Plot[16]he takes;Some circumstances finds, but more he makes;By buzzing emissaries fills the earsOf listening crowds with jealousies and fearOf arbitrary counsels brought to light,And proves the King himself a Jebusite.[17]Weak arguments! which yet he knew full wellWere strong with people easy to rebel.For governed by the moon, the giddy Jews[18]Tread the same track when she the prime renews.And once in twenty years, their scribes record,By natural instinct they change their lord.Achitophel still wants a chief, and noneWas found so fit as warlike Absalom.[19]Not that he wished his greatness to create,For politicians neither love nor hate:But, for he knew his title not allowedWould keep him still depending on the crowd:That kingly power, thus ebbing out, might beDrawn to the dregs of a democracy.Him he attempts with studied arts to please.
... The false Achitophel[12]was ...A name to all succeeding ages curst.For close designs and crooked counsels fit,Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit,Restless, unfixed in principles and place,In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace;A fiery soul, which working out its way,Fretted the pigmy body to decay,And o'er-informed the tenement of clay.A daring pilot in extremity,Pleased with the danger, when the wave went high,He sought the storms; but, for a calm unfit,Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.Great wits are sure to madness near allied,And thin partitions do their bounds divide.Else, why should he, with wealth and honour blest,Refuse his age the needful hours of rest?Punish a body which he could not please,Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of ease?And all to leave what with his toil he wonTo that unfeathered two-legged thing, a sonGot while his soul did huddled notions try,And born a shapeless lump, like anarchy.In friendship false, implacable in hateResolved to ruin or to rule the State.To compass this the triple bond he broke,The pillars of the public safety shook,And fitted Israel[13]for a foreign yoke.Then, seized with fear, yet still affecting fame,Usurped a patriot's all atoning name.So easy still it proves in factious timesWith public zeal to cancel private crimes.How safe is treason and how sacred ill,Where none can sin against the people's will;Where none can wink and no offence be known,Since in another's guilt they find their own!Yet fame deserved no enemy can grudge:The statesman we abhor, but praise the judge.In Israel's courts ne'er sat an Abbethdin[14]With more discerning eyes or hands more clean,Unbribed, unsought, the wretched to redress,Swift of despatch and easy of access.Oh! had he been content to serve the CrownWith virtues only proper to the gown,Or had the rankness of the soul been freedFrom cockle that oppressed the noble seed,David[15]for him his tuneful harp had strungAnd Heaven had wanted one immortal song.But, wild ambition loves to slide, not stand,And Fortune's ice prefers to Virtue's land.Achitophel, grown weary to possessA lawful fame and lazy happiness,Disdained the golden fruit to gather freeAnd lent the crowd his arm to shake the tree.Now, manifest of crimes contrived long since,He stood at bold defiance with his Prince,Held up the buckler of the people's causeAgainst the Crown, and skulked behind the laws.The wished occasion of the Plot[16]he takes;Some circumstances finds, but more he makes;By buzzing emissaries fills the earsOf listening crowds with jealousies and fearOf arbitrary counsels brought to light,And proves the King himself a Jebusite.[17]Weak arguments! which yet he knew full wellWere strong with people easy to rebel.For governed by the moon, the giddy Jews[18]Tread the same track when she the prime renews.And once in twenty years, their scribes record,By natural instinct they change their lord.Achitophel still wants a chief, and noneWas found so fit as warlike Absalom.[19]Not that he wished his greatness to create,For politicians neither love nor hate:But, for he knew his title not allowedWould keep him still depending on the crowd:That kingly power, thus ebbing out, might beDrawn to the dregs of a democracy.Him he attempts with studied arts to please.
... The false Achitophel[12]was ...
A name to all succeeding ages curst.
For close designs and crooked counsels fit,
Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit,
Restless, unfixed in principles and place,
In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace;
A fiery soul, which working out its way,
Fretted the pigmy body to decay,
And o'er-informed the tenement of clay.
A daring pilot in extremity,
Pleased with the danger, when the wave went high,
He sought the storms; but, for a calm unfit,
Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.
Great wits are sure to madness near allied,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide.
Else, why should he, with wealth and honour blest,
Refuse his age the needful hours of rest?
Punish a body which he could not please,
Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of ease?
And all to leave what with his toil he won
To that unfeathered two-legged thing, a son
Got while his soul did huddled notions try,
And born a shapeless lump, like anarchy.
In friendship false, implacable in hate
Resolved to ruin or to rule the State.
To compass this the triple bond he broke,
The pillars of the public safety shook,
And fitted Israel[13]for a foreign yoke.
Then, seized with fear, yet still affecting fame,
Usurped a patriot's all atoning name.
So easy still it proves in factious times
With public zeal to cancel private crimes.
How safe is treason and how sacred ill,
Where none can sin against the people's will;
Where none can wink and no offence be known,
Since in another's guilt they find their own!
Yet fame deserved no enemy can grudge:
The statesman we abhor, but praise the judge.
In Israel's courts ne'er sat an Abbethdin[14]
With more discerning eyes or hands more clean,
Unbribed, unsought, the wretched to redress,
Swift of despatch and easy of access.
Oh! had he been content to serve the Crown
With virtues only proper to the gown,
Or had the rankness of the soul been freed
From cockle that oppressed the noble seed,
David[15]for him his tuneful harp had strung
And Heaven had wanted one immortal song.
But, wild ambition loves to slide, not stand,
And Fortune's ice prefers to Virtue's land.
Achitophel, grown weary to possess
A lawful fame and lazy happiness,
Disdained the golden fruit to gather free
And lent the crowd his arm to shake the tree.
Now, manifest of crimes contrived long since,
He stood at bold defiance with his Prince,
Held up the buckler of the people's cause
Against the Crown, and skulked behind the laws.
The wished occasion of the Plot[16]he takes;
Some circumstances finds, but more he makes;
By buzzing emissaries fills the ears
Of listening crowds with jealousies and fear
Of arbitrary counsels brought to light,
And proves the King himself a Jebusite.[17]
Weak arguments! which yet he knew full well
Were strong with people easy to rebel.
For governed by the moon, the giddy Jews[18]
Tread the same track when she the prime renews.
And once in twenty years, their scribes record,
By natural instinct they change their lord.
Achitophel still wants a chief, and none
Was found so fit as warlike Absalom.[19]
Not that he wished his greatness to create,
For politicians neither love nor hate:
But, for he knew his title not allowed
Would keep him still depending on the crowd:
That kingly power, thus ebbing out, might be
Drawn to the dregs of a democracy.
Him he attempts with studied arts to please.
[12]Shaftesbury.[13]England.[14]The President of the Jewish judicature. Shaftesbury had been made Lord Chancellor in 1672.[15]Charles II.[16]The Popish Plot.[17]A Roman Catholic.[18]The English people.[19]Monmouth, whom Shaftesbury proposed as Charles II.'s successor during the Exclusion controversy (1679-1681).
[12]Shaftesbury.
[13]England.
[14]The President of the Jewish judicature. Shaftesbury had been made Lord Chancellor in 1672.
[15]Charles II.
[16]The Popish Plot.
[17]A Roman Catholic.
[18]The English people.
[19]Monmouth, whom Shaftesbury proposed as Charles II.'s successor during the Exclusion controversy (1679-1681).
Source.—North'sLives of the Norths. Vol. i., pp. 288-291. Bohn edition.
"Noisy in nature. Turbulent at first setting out. Deserter in difficulties. Full of tricks. Helped by similar friendships. Honesty, law, policy, alike."
This, to conclude, is the summary character of the Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys and needs no interpreter. And since nothing historical is amiss in a design like this, I will subjoin what I have personally noted of that man; and some things of indubitable report concerning him. His friendships and conversation lay among the good fellows and humorists; and his delights were accordingly, drinking, laughing, singing, kissing, and all the extravagances of the bottle. He had a set of banterers, for the most part, near him; as in old time men kept fools to make them merry. And these fellows abusing one another and their betters, were a regale to him. And no friendship or dearness could be so great in privatewhich he would not use ill, and to an extravagant degree, in publick. No one that had any expectations from him was safe from his public contempt and derision which some of his minions at the bar bitterly felt. Those above or that could hurt or benefit him, and none else, might depend on fair quarter at his hands. When he was in temper and matters indifferent came before him, he became his seat of justice better than any other I ever saw in his place. He took a pleasure in mortifying fraudulent attorneys and would deal forth his severities with a sort of majesty. He had extraordinary natural abilities, but little acquired beyond that practice in affairs had supplied. He talked fluently and with spirit; and his weakness was that he could not reprehend without scolding; and in such Billingsgate language as should not come out of the mouth of any man. He called it "giving a lick with the rough side of his tongue." It was ordinary to hear him say, "Go, you are a filthy, lousy, nitty rascal;" with much more of like elegance. Scarce a day passed that he did not chide some one or other of the bar when he sat in the Chancery: and it was commonly a lecture of a quarter of an hour long. And they used to say, "This is yours; my turn will be to-morrow." He seemed to lay nothing of his business to heart nor care what he did or left undone; and spent in the Chancery court what time he thought fit to spare. Many times on days of causes at his house, the company have waited five hours in a morning, and after eleven, he hath come out inflamed and staring like one distracted. And that visage he put on when he animadverted on such as he took offence at, which made him a terror to real offenders; whom also he terrified, with his face and voice, as if the thunder of the day of judgement broke over their heads; and nothing ever made men tremble like his vocal inflictions. He loved to insult and was bold without check; but that only when his place was uppermost. To give an instance. A city attorney was petitioned against for some abuse; and affidavit was made that when he was told of my lord chancellor, "My lord chancellor," said he, "I made him;" meaning his being a means to bringhim early into city business. When this affidavit was read, "Well," said the lord chancellor, "then I will lay my maker by the heels." And with that conceit one of his best old friends went to jail. One of these intemperances was fatal to him. There was a scrivener of Wapping brought to hearing for relief against a bummery bond[20]; the contingency of losing all being showed, the bill was going to be dismissed. But one of the plaintiff's counsel said that he was a strange fellow, and sometimes went to church, sometimes to conventicles; and none could tell what to make of him; and "it was thought he was a trimmer." At that the chancellor fired; and "A trimmer!" said he; "I have heard much of that monster, but never saw one. Come forth Mr. Trimmer, turn you round and let us see your shape:" and at that rate talked so long that the poor fellow was ready to drop under him; but at last, the bill was dismissed with costs, and he went his way. In the hall, one of his friends asked him how he came off? "Came off," said he, "I am escaped from the terrors of that man's face which I would scarce undergo again to save my life; and I shall certainly have the frightful impression of it as long as I live." Afterwards when the Prince of Orange came, and all was in confusion, this lord chancellor, being very obnoxious, disguised himself in order to go beyond sea. He was in a seaman's garb and drinking a pot in a cellar. This scrivener came into the cellar after some of his clients; and his eye caught that face which made him start; and the chancellor, seeing himself eyed, feigned a cough and turned to the wall with his pot in his hand. But Mr. Trimmer went out and gave notice that he was there; whereupon the mob flowed in and he was in extreme hazard of his life; but the lord mayor saved him and lost himself. For the chancellor being hurried with such crowd and noise before him, and so dismally not only disguised but disordered; and there having been an amity betwixt them, as also a veneration on the lord mayor's part, he had not spirits to sustain the shock but fell down in a swoon; and, in not many hours after, died.But this Lord Jeffries came to the seal without any concern at the weight of duty incumbent upon him; for at the first being merry over a bottle with some of his old friends, one of them told him that he would find the business heavy. "No," said he, "I'll make it light." But, to conclude with a strange inconsistency, he would drink and be merry, kiss and slaver, with these bon companions over night, as the way of such is, and the next day fall upon them ranting and scolding with a virulence insufferable.