GEORGE JEFFREYS.[114]
George Jeffreys was a younger son of John Jeffreys, Esq., of Acton, near Wrexham, in Denbighshire, a gentleman of a respectable Welsh family, and of small fortune. His mother was a daughter of Sir Thomas Ireland, Knight, of the County Palatine of Lancaster. Never was child so unlike parents; for they were both quiet, sedate, thrifty, unambitious persons, who aspired not higher than to be well reputed in the parish in which they lived, and decently to rear their numerous offspring. Some imputed to the father a niggardly and covetous disposition; but he appears only to have exercised a becoming economy, and to have lived at home with his consort in peace and happiness till he was made more anxious than pleased by the irregular advancement of his boy George. It is said that he had an early presentiment that this son would come to a violent end; and was particularly desirous that he should be brought up to some steady trade, in which he might be secured from temptation and peril.
He was born in his father’s lowly dwelling at Acton in the year 1648. He showed, from early infancy, the lively parts, the active temperament, the outward good humor, and theoverbearing disposition which distinguished him through life. He acquired an ascendancy among his companions in his native village by coaxing some and intimidating others, and making those most opposed to each other believe that he favored both. At marbles and leap-frog he was known to take undue advantages; and nevertheless, he contrived, notwithstanding secret murmurs, to be acknowledged as “master of the revels.”
While still young, he was put to the free school at the town of Shrewsbury, which was then considered a sort of metropolis for North Wales. Here he continued for two or three years; but we have no account how he demeaned himself. At the end of this time his father, though resolved to bind him apprentice to a shopkeeper in Wales, sent him for a short time to St. Paul’s School, in the city of London. The sight of the metropolis had a most extraordinary effect upon the mind of this ardent youth, and exceedingly disgusted him with the notion of returning into Denbighshire, to pass his life in a small provincial town as a mercer. On the first Sunday in every term he saw the judges and the serjeants come in grand procession to St. Paul’s Cathedral, and afterwards go to dine with the lord mayor—appearing little inferior to this great sovereign of the city in power and splendor. He heard that some of them had been poor boys like himself, who had pushed themselves on without fortune or friends; and though he was not so presumptuous as to hope, like another Whittington, to rise to be lord mayor, he was resolved that he would be lord chief justice or lord chancellor.
Now it was that he acquired whatever scholarship he ever possessed. Jeffreys applied with considerable diligence to Greek and Latin, though occasionally flogged for idleness andinsolence. He at last ventured to disclose his scheme of becoming a great lawyer to his father, who violently opposed it, as wild and romantic and impossible, and who inwardly dreaded that, from involving him in want and distress, it might lead to some fatal catastrophe. He wrote back to his son, pointing out the inability of the family to give him a university education, or to maintain him at the inns of court till he should have a chance of getting into practice—his utter want of connections in London, and the hopelessness of his entering into a contest in an overstocked profession with so many who had the advantage of superior education, wealth, and patronage. Although the aspirant professed himself unconvinced by these arguments, and still tried to show the certainty of his success at the bar, he must have stood a crop-eared apprentice behind a counter in Denbigh, Ruthyn, or Flint, if it had not been for his maternal grandmother, who was pleased to see the blood of the Irelands break out, and who, having a small jointure, offered to contribute a part of it for his support. The university was still beyond their means; but it was thought this might be better dispensed with if he should be for some time at one of the great schools of royal foundation, where he might form acquaintances afterwards to be useful to him. The father reluctantly consented, in the hope that his son would soon return to his sober senses, and that the project would be abandoned with the general concurrence of the family. Meanwhile young George was transferred to Westminster School, then under the rule of the celebrated Busby.
There is reason to fear that the zeal for improvement which he had exhibited at St. Paul’s soon left him, and that he here began to acquire those habits of intemperance whichafterwards proved so fatal to him. His father hearing of these had all his fears revived, and when the boy was at Acton during the holidays, again tried in vain to induce him to become a tradesman. But finding all dissuasions unavailing, the old gentleman withdrew his opposition, giving him a gentle pat on the back, accompanied by these words—“Ah, George, George, I fear thou wilt die with thy shoes and stockings on!”
Yet the wayward youth, while at Westminster, had fits of application, and carried away from thence a sufficient stock of learning to prevent him from appearing in after-life grossly deficient when any question of grammar arose. He was fond of reminding the world of the great master under whom he had studied.
His confidence in his own powers was so great, that, without conforming to ordinary rules, he expected to overcome every obstacle. Being now in the neighborhood of Westminster Hall, his ambition to be a great lawyer was inflamed by seeing the grand processions on the first day of term, and by occasionally peeping into the courts when an important trial was going forward. When he was actually lord chancellor, he used to relate that, while a boy at Westminster School, he had a dream, in which a gipsy read his fortune, foretelling “that he should be the chief scholar there, and should afterwards enrich himself by study and industry, and that he should come to be the second man in the kingdom, but in conclusion should fall into disgrace and misery.”
He was now sixteen, an age after which it was not usual to remain at school in those days. A family council was called at Acton, and as George still sanguinely adhered to the law, it was settled that, the university being quite beyond theirreach, he should immediately be entered at an inn of court; that, to support him there, his grandmother should allow him forty pounds a year, and that his father should add ten pounds a year for decent clothing.
On the 19th of May, 1663, to his great joy, he was admitted a member of the Inner Temple. He got a small and gloomy chamber, in which, with much energy, he began his legal studies. He not only had a natural boldness of eloquence, but an excellent head for law. With steadiness of application he would have greatly excelled Lord Keeper Guilford, and in the mastery of this science would have rivalled Lord Hale and Lord Nottingham. But he could not long resist the temptations of bad company. Having laid in a very slender stock for a counsel or a judge, he forsook Littleton and Plowden, “moots and readings,” for the tavern, where was his chief delight. He seems to have escaped the ruinous and irreclaimable vice of gaming, but to have fallen into all others to which reckless templars were prone. Nevertheless, he had ever a keen eye to his own interest; and in these scenes of dissipation he assiduously cultivated the acquaintance of young attorneys and their clerks, who might afterwards be useful to him. When they met over a bowl of punch at the Devil tavern, or some worse place, he charmed them with songs and jokes, and took care to bring out before them, opportunely, any scrap of law which he had picked up, to impress them with the notion that, when he put on his gown and applied to business, he should be able to win all the causes in which he might be retained. He was exceedingly popular, and he had many invitations to dinner; which, to make his way in the world, he thought it better to accept than to waste his time over the midnight oil in acquiring knowledge which it might never be known that he possessed.
After the first fervor of loyalty which burst out at the restoration had passed away, a malcontent party was formed, which gradually gained strength. In this, most of the aspiring young lawyers, not actually employed by the government, were ranged—finding it politic to begin in “the sedition line,” that their value might be better appreciated by the court, and a better price might be bid for them. From such reasoning, or perhaps from accidental circumstances, Jeffreys associated himself with the popular leaders, and in the hour of revelry would drink on his knees any toasts to “the good old cause,” and to “the immortal memory of old Noll.”
He was often put to great shifts from the embarrassed state of his finances, the ten pounds for “decent clothing” for a year being expended in a single suit of cut velvet, and his grandmother’s forty pounds being insufficient to pay his tavern bills. But he displayed much address in obtaining prolonged and increased credit from his tradesmen. He borrowed adroitly; and it is said that such an impression was made by his opening talents, that several wealthy men on the popular side voluntarily made him presents of money, in the hope of the important services they were speedily to receive from his support.
It is very much to be regretted that we have not from a Roger North more minute information with respect to the manner in which his character was formed, and his abilities were cultivated. He seems to have been a most precocious young man. While still in his twentieth year, he was not only familiarly acquainted with the town, and completely a man of the world, exciting confident expectations of great future eminence, but he was already received among veteran statesmen as a member of an important party in the state,consulted as to their movements, and regarded as their future leader.
After keeping all his terms, and doing all his exercises, he was regularly called to the bar on the 22d day of November, 1668—having been on the books of the society five years and six months—the requisite period of probation having been previously, by a general regulation, reduced from seven to the present period of five years.
Although he does not ever appear to have been chosen “reader” or “treasurer” of the society, yet in the year 1678, on being elected recorder of London, he was made a bencher, and he continued to be so till he took the coif, when he necessarily left it for Serjeants’ Inn.
During his early career he was involved in difficulties, which could only have been overcome by uncommon energy. Pressed by creditors, and at a loss to provide for the day that was passing over him, he had burdened himself with the expenses of a family. But this arose out of a speculation, which, in the first instance, was very prudent. Being a handsome young fellow, and capable of making himself acceptable to modest women, notwithstanding the bad company which he kept, he resolved to repair his fortunes by marrying an heiress; and he fixed upon the daughter of a country gentleman of large possessions, who, on account of his agreeable qualities, had invited him to his house. The daughter, still very young, was cautiously guarded, and almost always confined to her chamber; but Jeffreys contrived to make a confidant and friend of a poor relation of hers, who was the daughter of a country parson, and lived with her as a companion. Through this agency he had established a correspondence with the heiress, and an interest in her affections, so that on his lastvisit she had agreed, if her father’s consent could not be obtained, to elope with him. What was his disappointment, soon after his return to his dismal chamber in the Inner Temple, which he had hoped soon to exchange for a sumptuous manor-house, to receive a letter from thecompanion, informing him “that his correspondence with theheiresshad been discovered by the old father, who was in such a rage, that locking up her cousin, he had instantly turned herself out of doors, and that having taken shelter in the house of an acquaintance in Holborn, she was there in a state of great destitution and distraction, afraid to return to her father, or to inform him of what had happened.” The conduct of Jeffreys on this occasion may be truly considered the brightest passage in his history. He went to her, found her in tears, and considering that he had been the means of ruining her prospects in life, (to say nothing of her being much handsomer than her rich cousin,) he offered her his hand. She consented. Her father, notwithstanding the character and circumstances of his proposed son-in-law, out of regard to his daughter’s reputation, sanctioned their union, and to the surprise of all parties, gave her a fortune of three hundred pounds.
She made an excellent wife, and I do not find any complaint of his having used her ill till near the time of her death, a few years after, when he had cast his affections upon the lady who became the second Mrs. Jeffreys. Meanwhile he left her at her father’s, occasionally visiting her; and he continued to carry on his former pursuits, and to strengthen his connections in London, with a view to his success at the bar, on which he resolutely calculated with unabated confidence.
He was not disappointed. Never had a young lawyer risen so rapidly into practice. But he cut out a new line forhimself. Instead of attending in Westminster Hall to take notes in law French of the long-winded arguments of serjeants and eminent counsel, where he would have had little chance of employment, he did not go near any of the superior courts for some years, but confined himself to the Old Bailey, the London Sessions, and Hicks’s Hall. There he was soon “the cock of the walk.”
Some of his pot companions were now of great use to him in bringing him briefs, and recommending him to business. All this pushing would have been of little avail if he had not fully equalled expectation by the forensic abilities which he displayed. He had a very sweet and powerful voice, having something in its tone which immediately fixed the attention, so that his audience always were compelled to listen to him, irrespective of what he said. “He was of bold aspect, and cared not for the countenance of any man.” He was extremely voluble, but always perspicuous and forcible, making use of idiomatic, and familiar, and colloquial, and sometimes of coarse language. He never spared any assertion that was likely to serve his client. He could get up a point of law so as to argue it with great ability, and with the justices, as well as with juries, his influence was unbounded. He was particularly famous for his talent in cross-examination, indulging in ribaldry and banter to a degree which would not now be permitted. The audience being ever ready to take part with the persecuted witness, the laugh was sometimes turned against him. It is related that, about this time, beginning to cross-examine a witness ina leathern doublet, who had made out a complete case against his client, he bawled forth—“You fellow in the leathern doublet, pray what have you for swearing?” The man looked steadily at him, and “Truly, sir,”said he, “if you have no more for lying than I have for swearing, you might wear a leathern doublet as well as I.” This blunt reply got to the west end of the town, and was remembered among the courtiers against Jeffreys when he grew to be a great man.
While a trial was going on, he was devotedly earnest in it; but when it was over, he would recklessly get drunk, as if he never were to have another to conduct. Coming so much in contact with the aldermen, he ingratiated himself with them very much, and he was particularly patronized by a namesake (though no relation) of his own—Jeffreys, alderman of Bread Street Ward, who was very wealthy, a great smoker, (an accomplishment in which the lawyer could rival him, as well as in drinking,) and who had immense influence with the livery.
Pushed by him, or rising rapidly by his own buoyancy, our hero, before he had been two years and a half at the bar, and while only twenty-three years of age, was elected common serjeant of the city of London—an office which has raised a Denman as well as a Jeffreys to be chief justice of England. This first step of his elevation he obtained on the 17th of March, 1671.
But his ambition was only inflamed by this promotion, which disqualified him for a considerable part of his bar practice, and he resolved entirely to change the field of his operations, making a dash at Westminster Hall. He knew well that he could not be employed to draw declarations and pleas, or to argue demurrers or special verdicts; but he hoped his talent for examining witnesses and for speaking might avail him. At any rate, this was the only road to high distinction in his profession, and he spurned the idea of spendinghis life in trying petty larcenies, and dining with the city companies.
Hard drinking was again his grand resource. He could now afford to invite the great city attorneys to his house as well as carouse with them at taverns, and they were pleased with the attentions of a rising barrister as well as charmed with the pleasantry of the most jovial of companions. He likewise began to cultivate fashionable society, and to consider how he might contrive to get an introduction at court. “He put himself into all companies, for which he was qualified by using himself to drink hard.” Now was the time when men got forward in life by showing their hatred of puritanism, their devotion to church and king, and an affectation of vice, even if actually free from it.
Yet such was the versatility of Jeffreys, that for the nonce he could appear sanctimonious, and even puritanical. Thus he deceived the religious, the moral, the immaculate Sir Matthew Hale, then chief justice of the King’s Bench. Roger North, in drawing the character of this extraordinary man, says,—“Although he was very grave in his own person, he loved the most bizarre and irregular wits in the practice of the law before him most extravagantly. So Sir George Jeffreys gained as great an ascendant in practice over him as ever counsel had over a judge.”
As a King’s Bench practitioner, Jeffreys was first employed at Nisi Prius in actions for assaults and defamation; but before long the city attorneys gave him briefs in commercial causes tried at Guildhall, and though inbanche could not well stand up against regularly-bred lawyers, like Sir Francis North, Sir William Jones, Sir Creswell Levinz, and Heneage Finch, the son of the Lord Chancellor Nottingham, he wasgenerally equal to them before a jury, and he rapidly trod upon their heels.
He anxiously asked himself how he was to climb to high office. He had started with the disaffected party, and they had been of essential use to him; but though they were growing in strength, no chance existed of their being able to make attorney generals, chief justices, or chancellors. At the same time he did not like yet to break with those who might still serve him—particularly in obtaining the recordership, which he coveted as a stepping stone to something better. He resolved so to manage as to be a favorite of both parties till he could devote himself entirely, and exclusively, and openly to the one which should be dominant; and he again succeeded.
From his well-known influence in the city he found no difficulty in making the acquaintance of Will Chiffinch, “the trusty page of the back stairs,” who, besides other employments of a still more confidential nature, was intrusted by Charles II. to get at the secrets of all men of any consequence in every department of life. “This Mr. Chiffinch,” says Roger North, “was a true secretary as well as page, for he had a lodging at the back stairs, which might have been properly termed ‘the Spy Office,’ where the king spoke with particular persons about intrigues of all kinds; and all little informers, projectors, &c., were carried to Chiffinch’s lodging. He was a most impetuous drinker, and in that capacity an admirable spy; for he let none part with him sober, if it were possible to get them drunk, and his great artifice was pushing idolatrous healths of his good master, and being always in haste;for the king is coming; which was his word. Being an Hercules well breathed at the sport himself, he commonlyhad the better, and so fished out many secrets, and discovered men’s characters, which the king could never have obtained the knowledge of by any other means. It is likely that Jeffreys, being a pretender to main feats with the citizens, might forward himself, and be entertained by Will Chiffinch, and that which at first was mere spying turn to acquaintance, if not friendship, such as is apt to grow up between immense drinkers, and from thence might spring recommendations of him to the king, as the most useful man that could be found to serve his majesty in London.”
Thus, while Mr. Common Serjeant was caballing in the city with Lord Shaftesbury, who had established himself in Aldersgate Street, and talked of becoming lord mayor, he had secretly got a footing at court, and by assurances of future services disposed the government to assist him in all his jobs. His opposition friends were a little startled by hearing that he had been made solicitor to the Duke of York; but he assured them that this was merely a professional employment, unconnected with politics, which, according to professional etiquette, he could not decline; and when he was knighted as a mark of royal favor, with which he was silly enough to be much tickled, he said that he was obliged reluctantly to submit to the degradation as a consequence of his employment.
By some mischance, which is not explained, he missed the office of recorder on the vacancy occasioned by the resignation of Sir John Howel, who so outraged public decency on the trial of Penn and Mead; but Sir William Dolbein, the successful candidate, being made a judge on the 22d of October, 1678, Jeffreys was then elected his successor. Upon this occasion there were three other candidates; but he was so warmly supported by both parties in politics, that they allwithdrew before the day of nomination, and he is said in the city records to have been “freely and unanimously elected.”
The new recorder had hardly been sworn in, when feeling that the liberals could do nothing more for him, he utterly cast them off, becoming for the rest of his life the open, avowed, unblushing slave of the court, and the bitter, persecuting, and unappeasable enemy of the principles he had before supported, and of the men he had professed to love.
He entirely forsook Thanet House, in Aldersgate Street, and all the meetings of the Whigs in the city; and instead of secret interviews with Will Chiffinch in the “Spy Office,” he went openly to court, and with his usual address, he contrived, by constant assiduities and flatteries, to gain the good graces both of Nell Gwyn and of the Duchess of Portsmouth, who, since the fall of Lady Castlemaine, held divided empire at Whitehall, balancing the Roman Catholic and Protestant parties. To each of these ladies, it would appear from the libels of the day, his rise was attributed.
However, not long after he had openly ratted, an accident happened that had like to have spoiled all his projects; and that was the breaking out of the Popish plot. Although there is no reasonable ground for saying that it was contrived by Shaftesbury, he made such skilful and unscrupulous use of it, that suddenly, from appearing the leader of a small, declining, and despairing party, he had the city and the nation at his beck, and with a majority in both houses of Parliament, there seemed every probability that he would soon force himself upon the king, and have at his disposal all the patronage of the government. Jeffreys was for some time much disconcerted, and thought that once in his life he had made a falsemove. He was utterly at a loss how to conduct himself, and his craft never was put to so severe a trial.
Being called into council, he recommended that the government should profess to credit the plot, and should outvie the other side in zeal for the Protestant religion, but should contrive to make Shaftesbury answerable for the reality of the conspiracy; so that, if hereafter it should blow up, or the people should get tired of it, all that was done to punish the supposed authors of it might be laid to his account.
He immediately began diligently to work the Popish plot according to his own scheme. Coleman, Whitbread, Ireland, and all whom Oates and Bedloe accused being committed to prison, it was resolved to prosecute them for high treason in having compassed the death of the king, as well as the overthrow of the Protestant religion; and their trials were conducted by the government as state trials, partly at the bar of the Court of King’s Bench, and partly at the Old Bailey. In the former Jeffreys acted as a counsel, in the latter as a judge. It is asserted, and not improbably, that he had a real horror of Popery, which, though he could control it in the presence of the Duke of York, and when his interest required, at other times burst out with sincerity as well as fierceness.
Scroggs presided at the Old Bailey, but Jeffreys whetted his fury by telling him that the king was a thorough believer in the plot, and by echoing his expressions; as, when the chief justice said to the jury, “You have done like honest men,” he exclaimed in a stage whisper, “They have done like honest men.” As mouthpiece of the lord mayor, the head of the commission, after conviction he had the pleasing duty ofpassing sentence of death by the protracted tortures which the law of treason prescribed.
He had a still greater treat in passing the like sentence on Richard Langhorne, an eminent Catholic barrister, with whom he had been familiarly acquainted. He first addressed generally the whole batch of the prisoners convicted, whom he thus continues to upbraid for trying to root out “the best of religions:” “I call it the best of religions, even for your sakes; for had it not been for the sake of our religion, that teaches us not to make such requitals as yours seems to teach you, you had not had this fair, formal trial, but murder would have been returned to you for the murder you intended to commit both upon the king and most of his people. What a strange sort of religion is that whose doctrine seems to allow them to be the greatest saints in another world who have been the most impudent sinners in this! Murder and the blackest of crimes were the best means among you to get a man to be canonized a saint hereafter.” Then he comes to his brother lawyer—“There is one gentleman that stands at the bar whom I am very sorry to see, with all my heart, in this condition, because of some acquaintance I have had with him heretofore. To see that a man who hath understanding in the law, and who hath arrived at so great an eminency in that profession as this gentleman hath done, should not remember that it is not only against the rules of Christianity, but even against the rules of his profession, to attempt any injury against the person of the king! He knows it is against all the rules of law to endeavor to introduce a foreign power into this land. So that you have sinned both against your conscience and your own certain knowledge.” Last of all, he offers his friend the assistance of a Protestant divine toprepare him for a speedy departure, and, referring him to the statute whereby the ministration of a Catholic priest is made illegal, he himself, though “a layman,” gives him some “pious advice.” He had carried the sympathies of his audience along with him, for, when he had concluded with the “quartering,” he was greeted with a loud shout of applause.
Thus, by the powerful assistance of the recorder, did the government obtain popularity for prosecuting the plot, till the people at last actually did get tired of it, and Shaftesbury was prevented from deriving any fruit from it beyond the precarious tenure, for a few months, of his office of president of the council.
The recorder was equally zealous, on all other occasions, to do what he thought would be agreeable at court. With the view of repressing public discussion, he laid down for law, as he said, on the authority of all the judges, “that no person whatsoever could expose to the public knowledge any thing that concerned the affairs of the public without license from the king, or from such persons as he may think fit to intrust with that power.”
The grand jury having several times returned “ignoramus” to an indictment against one Smith for a libel, in respect of a very innocent publication, though they were sent out of court to reconsider the finding, he at last exclaimed, “God bless me from such jurymen. I will see the face of every one of them, and let others see them also.” He accordingly cleared the bar, and, calling the jurymen one by one, put the question to them, and made each of them repeat the word “ignoramus.” He then went on another tack, and addressing the defendant, said, in a coaxing tone, “Come, Mr. Smith, there are two persons besides you whom this jury have brought inignoramus;but they have been ingenuous enough to confess, and I cannot think to fine them little enough; they shall be fined twopence for their ingenuity in confessing. Well, come, Mr. Smith, we know who hath formerly owned both printing and publishing this book.”Smith.—“Sir, my ingenuity hath sufficiently experienced the reward of your severity; and, besides, I know no law commands me to accuse myself; neither shall I; and the jury have done like true Englishmen and worthy citizens, and blessed be God for such a jury.” Jeffreys was furious, but could only vent his rage by committing the defendant till he gave security for his good behavior.
Such services were not to go unrewarded. It was the wish of the government to put the renegade Jeffreys into the office of chief justice of Chester, so often the price of political apostasy; but Sir Job Charlton, a very old gentleman, who now held it, could not be prevailed upon voluntarily to resign, for he had a considerable estate in the neighborhood, and was loath to be stripped of his dignity. Jeffreys, supported by the Duke of York, pressed the king hard, urging that “a Welshman ought not to judge his countrymen,” and a message was sent to Sir Job that he was to be removed. The old gentleman was imperfectly consoled with the place of puisne judge of the Common Pleas, which, in the reign of James II., he was subsequently allowed to exchange for his beloved Chester. Meanwhile he was succeeded by Jeffreys, “more Welshman than himself,” who was at the same time made counsel for the crown, at Ludlow, where a court was still held for Wales.
Immediately afterwards, the new chief justice was called to the degree of the coif, and made king’s serjeant, whereby he had precedence in Westminster Hall of the attorney and solicitor general. The motto on his rings, with great brevityand point, inculcated the prevailing doctrines of divine right and passive obedience—“A Deo Rex, a Rege Lex.” As a further mark of royal favor, there was conferred upon him the hereditary dignity of a baronet. He still retained the recordership of London, and had extensive practice at the bar.
The great prosperity which Jeffreys now enjoyed had not the effect which it ought to have produced upon a good disposition, by making him more courteous and kind to others. When not under the sordid dread of injuring himself by offending superiors, he was universally insolent and overbearing. Being made chief justice of Chester, he thought that all puisne judges were beneath him, and he would not behave to them with decent respect, even when practising before them. At the Kingston assizes, Baron Weston having tried to check his irregularities, he complained that he was not treated like a counsellor, being curbed in the management of his brief.Weston, B.—“Sir George, since the king has thrust his favors upon you, and made you chief justice of Chester, you think to run down every body; if you find yourself aggrieved, make your complaint; here’s nobody cares for you.”Jeffreys.—“I have not been used to make complaints, but rather to stop those that are made.”Weston, B.—“I desire, sir, that you will sit down.” He sat down, and is said to have wept with anger. His intemperate habits had so far shaken his nerves, that he shed tears very freely on any strong emotion.
We may be prepared for his playing some fantastic tricks before his countrymen at Chester, where he was subject to no control; but the description of his conduct there by Lord Delamere, (afterwards Earl of Warrington,) in denouncing it in the House of Commons, must surely be overcharged:—
“The county for which I serve is Cheshire, which is a county palatine; and we have two judges peculiarly assigned us by his majesty. Our puisne judge I have nothing to say against; he is a very honest man, for aught I know; but I cannot be silent as to our chief judge; and I will name him, because what I have to say will appear more probable. His name is Sir George Jeffreys, who, I must say, behaved himself more like a jack-pudding than with that gravity which becomes a judge. He was witty upon the prisoners at the bar. He was very full of his jokes upon people that came to give evidence, not suffering them to declare what they had to say in their own way and method, but would interrupt them because they behaved themselves with more gravity than he. But I do not insist upon this, nor upon the late hours he kept up and down our city; it’s said he was every night drinking till two o’clock, or beyond that time, and that he went to his chamber drunk; but this I have only by common fame, for I was not in his company; I bless God I am not a man of his principles and behavior; but in the mornings he appeared with the symptoms of a man that overnight had taken a large cup. That which I have to say is the complaint of every man, especially of them that had any lawsuits. Our chief justice has a very arbitrary power in appointing the assize when he pleases, and this man has strained it to the highest point; for whereas we were accustomed to have two assizes, the first about April or May, the latter about September, it was this year the middle (as I remember) of August before we had any assize; and then he despatched business so well that he left half the causes untried; and, to help the matter, has resolved we shall have no more assizes this year.”
Being tired of revelling in Chester, he put a sudden end tohis first assize there, that he might pay a visit to his native place; to which I am afraid he was less prompted by a pious wish to embrace his father, who had been so resolutely bent on making him a shopkeeper, and who, from the stories propagated about his conduct as a judge, still expressed some misgivings about him, as to dazzle his old companions with the splendor of his new state. Accordingly he came with such a train that the cider barrels at Acton ran very fast, and the larder was soon exhausted; whereupon the old gentleman, in a great fret, charged his son with a design to ruin him, by bringing a whole county at his heels, and warned him against again attempting the same prodigality.
But a violent political storm now arose, which threatened entirely to overwhelm our hero, and from which he did not escape unhurt. In the struggle which arose from the long delay to assemble Parliament, he had leagued himself strongly with the “Abhorrers” against the “Petitioners,” and proceedings were instituted in the House of Commons on this ground, against him along with Chief Justice Scroggs and Chief Justice North.
A petition from the city of London, very numerously signed, having been presented, complaining that the recorder had obstructed the citizens in their attempts to have Parliament assembled for the redress of grievances, a select committee was appointed, who, having heard evidence on the subject, and examined him in person, presented a report, on which the following resolutions were passed:—
“That Sir George Jeffreys, recorder of the city of London, by traducing and obstructing petitioning for the sitting of this Parliament, hath destroyed the right of the subject.
“That an humble address be presented to his majesty, to remove Sir George Jeffreys out of all public offices.
“That the members of this house serving for the city of London do communicate these resolutions to the Court of Aldermen for the said city.”
The king was stanch, and returned for answer to the address the civil refusal “that he would consider of it;”[115]but Jeffreys, who, where he apprehended personal danger, was “none of the intrepids,” quailed under the charge, and, afraid of further steps being taken against him, came to an understanding that he should give up the recordership, which his enemies wished to be conferred upon their partisan, Sir George Treby. The king was much chagrined at the loss of such a valuable recorder, and said sarcastically that “he was not Parliament-proof.” But he was obliged to acquiesce, and Jeffreys, having been reprimanded on his knees at the bar, was discharged. The address of Speaker Williams was very bitter, and caused deep resentment in the mind of Jeffreys. On the 2d of December he actually did resign his office, and Treby was chosen to succeed him.
In a few days after there was exhibited one of Lord Shaftesbury’s famous Protestant processions, on the anniversary of the accession of Queen Elizabeth. In this rode a figure on horseback, to represent the ex-recorder, with his face to the tail, and a label on his back, “I am an Abhorrer.” At Temple Bar he was thrown into a bonfire, coupled with the devil; the preceding pair, who suffered the same fate, being Sir Roger L’Estrange[116]and the Pope of Rome.
However, all these indignities endeared him to the court; and his pusillanimity was forgiven from the recollection of past and the hope of future services. A petition from the city being presented to the king at Hampton Court, he attended as a liveryman, though no longer the mouthpiece of the corporation, when he was treated with marked civility by Charles, and detained to dinner, while the lord mayor and aldermen and the new recorder were sent off with a reprimand.
To oblige the court, and to assist them in their criminal jobs, he accepted the appointment of chairman of the Middlesex sessions at Hicks’s Hall, although it was somewhat beneath his dignity, and it deprived him of a portion of his practice. Here the grand jury were sworn in; and as they were returned by sheriffs whom the city of London elected, and who were still of the liberal party, the problem was to have them remodelled, so that they might find bills of indictment against all whom the government wished to prosecute. With this view, Jeffreys declared that none should serve except true church of England men; and he ordered the under-sheriff to return a new panel purged of all sectarians. He had a particular spite against the Presbyterians, who had mainly contributed to his being turned out of the recordership. The under-sheriff disobeying his summons, he ordered the sheriffs to attend next day in person; but in their stead came the new recorder, who urged that, by the privileges of the city of London, they were exempted from attending at Hicks’s Hall. He overruled this claim with contempt, and fined the sheriffs one hundred pounds. It was found, however, that while the city retained the power of electing the sheriffs, all these attempts to pervert justice would be fruitless.
Jeffreys remained in a state of painful anxiety during Charles’s last Westminster Parliament, and during the few days of the Oxford Parliament. The popular party had such a majority in the House of Commons, and seemed so powerful, that it is said the renegade again expressed deep regret that he had left them; but late at night, on Monday, the 28th day of March, 1681, news arrived in London, that early that morning the king had dissolved the Parliament, and had declared his firm determination never to call another. If Jeffreys was still sober, and got drunk that night, we ought to excuse him.
Now his talents were to be brought into full play. In the conflict, the ranks of the enemy being thrown into disorder, the brigade of the lawyers, who had been kept back as a reserve, was marched up to hang on their broken rear, insulting, and to sweep them from the field.
First came on the trial of Fitzharris for high treason. Jeffreys, as counsel for the crown, argued the demurrer to the plea of the pendency of the impeachment; and then, having assisted the Duchess of Portsmouth to evade the questions which were put to her for the purpose of showing that the prisoner had acted under the king’s orders, he addressed the jury with great zeal after the solicitor general, and was mainly instrumental in obtaining the conviction.
Next came the trial of Archbishop Plunkett, the Roman Catholic Primate of Ireland, in which Jeffreys was so intemperate that the attorney general was obliged to check him, that the prisoner might have some show of fair play. But it was on the trial of College, “the Protestant joiner,”[117]that hegave the earliest specimen of his characteristic ribaldry, and his talent for jesting in cases of life and death, which shone out so conspicuously when he was lord chief justice of the King’s Bench. He began with strongly justifying the act of taking from the prisoner the papers he was to use in his defence, saying, that to allow him to see them would be “assigning counsel to him with a vengeance.” A witness having stated that pistols were found in the prisoner’s holsters when he was attending the city members at Oxford, he exclaimed with a grin, “I think achiselmight have been more proper for ajoiner.”
There was called as a witness, by the prisoner, one Lun, who, being a waiter at the Devil Tavern and a fanatic, had some years before been caught on his knees praying against the Cavaliers, saying, “Scatter them, good Lord! Scatter them!” from whence he had ever after borne the nickname of “Scatter’em.” Jeffreys thus begins his cross-examination: “We know you, Mr. Lun; we only ask questions about you that the jury too may know you as well as we.”Lun.—“I don’t care to give evidence of any thing but the truth. I was never on my knees before the Parliament for any thing.”Jeffreys.—“Nor I neither for much; yet you were once on your knees when you cried, ‘Scatter them, good Lord!’ Was it not so, Mr. Scatter’em?”
He had next an encounter with the famous Titus Oates, who was called by College, and who, when cross-examined by him, appealed to Sir George Jeffreys’s own knowledge of a fact about which he was inquiring.Jeffreys.—“Sir George Jeffreys does not intend to be an evidence, I assure you.”Dr. Oates.—“I do not desire Sir George Jeffreys to be an evidence for me; I had credit in Parliaments, and Sir Georgehad disgrace in one of them.”Jeffreys.—“Your servant, doctor; you are a witty man and a philosopher.” He had his full revenge when the doctor himself was afterwards tried before him.
We may judge of the councillor’s general style of treating witnesses by his remark on the trial of Lord Grey de Werke for carrying off the Lady Henrietta Berkeley; when his objection was overruled to the competency of the young lady as a witness for the defendant, although she was not only of high rank and uncommon beauty, but undoubted veracity, he observed, “Truly, my lord, we would prevent perjury if we could.”
We now come to transactions which strikingly prove the innate baseness of his nature in the midst of his pretended openness and jolly good humor. He owed every thing in life to the corporation of the city of London. The freemen, in the exercise of their ancient privileges, had raised him from the ground by electing him common serjeant and recorder, and to the influence he was supposed to have in the Court of Common Council and in the Court of Aldermen must be ascribed his introduction to Whitehall and all his political advancement. But when, upon the failure of the prosecution against Lord Shaftesbury, the free municipal constitution of the city became so odious to the government, he heartily entered into the conspiracy to destroy it. It is said that he actually suggested the scheme of having a sheriff nominated by the lord mayor, and he certainly took a very active part in carrying it into execution. On Midsummer day, having planted Lord Chief Justice North in his house in Aldermanbury, that he might be backed by his authority, he himself appeared on the hustings in Guildhall; and when the poll was going againstthe court candidates, illegally advised the lord mayor to dissolve the hall, and afterwards to declare them duly elected. He did every thing in his power to push on and to assist the greatquo warranto, by which the city was to be entirely disfranchised.[118]
When success had crowned these efforts, and Pilkington and Shute, the former sheriffs, with Alderman Cornish and others, were to be tried before a packed jury for a riot at the election, finding that he had the game in his hand, his insolence knew no bounds. The defendants having challenged the array, on the ground that the sheriffs who returned the panel were not lawfully appointed,[119]as soon as the challenge was read, he exclaimed, “Here’s a tale of a tub indeed!” The counsel for the defendants insisted that the challenge was good in law, and at great length argued for its validity.
Jeffreys.—“Robin HoodUpon Greendale stood.”
Thompson, Counsel for the Defendants.—“If the challenge be not good, there must be a defect in it either in point of law or in point of fact. I pray that the crown may either demur or traverse.”Jeffreys.—“This discourse is only for discourse sake. I pray the jury may be sworn.”Lord Chief Justice Saunders.—“Ay, ay, swear the jury.” The defendants were, of course, all found guilty; and as there were among them the most eminent of Jeffreys’s old city friends, he exerted himself to the utmost not only in gaining a conviction, but in aggravating the sentence.
But this was only a case of misdemeanor, in which he could ask for nothing beyond fine and imprisonment. He was soon to be engaged in prosecutions for high treason against the noblest of the land, in which his savage taste for blood might be gratified. The Ryehouse plot broke out, for which there was some foundation; and after the conviction of those who had planned it, Lord Russell was brought to trial at the Old Bailey, on the ground that he had consented to it.
Jeffreys, in the late state trials, had gradually been encroaching on the attorney and solicitor general, Sir Robert Sawyer and Sir Heneage Finch, and in Lord Russell’s case, to which the government attached such infinite importance, he almost entirely superseded them. To account for his unexampled zeal, we must remember that the office of chief justice of the King’s Bench was still vacant, Saunders having died a few months before, and Lord Keeper North having strongly opposed the appointment of Jeffreys as his successor.
These trials took place before a commission, at the head of which was placed Pemberton, chief justice of the Common Pleas, to whom a chance was thus afforded of earning a reappointment to the chief justiceship of the King’s Bench, in which he had been superseded by Saunders.
The case of Colonel Walcot was taken first; and here there was no difficulty, for he had not only joined in planning an insurrection against the government, but was privy to the design of assassinating the king and the Duke of York, and in a letter to the secretary of state he had confessed his complicity, and offered to become a witness for the crown. This trial was meant to prepare the public mind for that of Lord Russell, the great ornament of the Whig party, who had carriedthe exclusion bill through the House of Commons, and, attended by a great following of Whig members, had delivered it with his own hand to the lord chancellor at the bar of the House of Lords. In proportion to his virtues was the desire to wreak vengeance upon him. But the object was no less difficult than desirable, for he had been kept profoundly ignorant of the intention to offer violence to the royal brothers, from the certainty that he would have rejected it with abhorrence; and although he had been present when there were deliberations respecting the right and the expediency of resistance by force to the government after the system had been established of ruling without Parliaments, he had never concurred in the opinion that there were no longer constitutional means of redress; much less had he concerted an armed insurrection. Notwithstanding all the efforts made to return a prejudiced jury, there were serious apprehensions of an acquittal.
Pemberton, the presiding judge, seems to have been convinced that the evidence against him was insufficient; and although he did not interpose with becoming vigor, by repressing the unfair arts of Jeffreys, who was leading counsel for the crown, and although he did not stop the prosecution, as an independent judge would do in modern times, he cannot be accused of any perversion of law; and, instead of treating the prisoner with brutality, as was wished and expected, he behaved to him with courtesy and seeming kindness.
Lord Russell, on his arraignment at the sitting of the court in the morning, having prayed that the trial should be postponed till the afternoon, as a witness for him was absent, and it had been usual in such case to allow an interval between the arraignment and the trial, Pemberton said, “Why maynot this trial be respited till the afternoon?” and the only answer being the insolent exclamation, “Pray call the jury,” he mildly added, “My lord, the king’s counsel think it not reasonable to put off the trial longer, and we cannot put it off without their consent in this case.”
The following dialogue then took place, which introduced the touching display of female tenderness and heroism of the celebrated Rachel, Lady Russell, assisting her martyred husband during his trial—a subject often illustrated both by the pen and the pencil.
Lord Russell.—“My lord, may I not have the use of pen, ink, and paper?”Pemberton.—“Yes, my lord.”Lord Russell.—“My lord, may I not make use of any papers I have?”Pemberton.—“Yes, by all means.”Lord Russell.—“May I have somebody write to help my memory?”Attorney General.—“Yes, a servant.”Lord Russell.—“My wife is here, my lord, to do it.”Pemberton.—“If my lady please to give herself the trouble.”
The chief justice admitted Dr. Burnet, Dr. Tillotson, and other witnesses, to speak to the good character and loyal conversation of the prisoner, and gave weight to their testimony, notwithstanding the observation of Jeffreys that “it was easy to express a regard for the king while conspiring to murder him.”
Lord Russell had certainly been present at a meeting of the conspirators, when there was a consultation about seizing the king’s guards; but he insisted that he came in accidentally, that he had taken no part in the conversation, and that he was not acquainted with their plans. The aspirant chief justice saw clearly where was the pinch of the case, and the attorney general, who was examining Colonel Rumsey, beingcontented with asking—“Was the prisoner at the debate?” and receiving the answer “Yes,” Jeffreys started up, took the witness into his own hands, and calling upon him to draw the inference which was for the jury, pinned the basket by this leading and highly irregular question—“Did you find him averse to it or agreeing to it?” Having got the echoing answer which he suggested, “Agreeing to it,” he looked round with exultation, and said, “If my Lord Russell now pleases to ask any questions, he may!”
Jeffreys addressed the jury in reply after the solicitor general had finished, and much outdid him in pressing the case against the prisoner, while he disclaimed with horror the endeavor to take away the life of the innocent.
The jury retired, and the courtiers present were in a state of the greatest alarm; for against Algernon Sydney, who was to be tried next, the case was still weaker; and if the two whig chiefs, who were considered already cut off, should recover their liberty, and should renew their agitation, a national cry might be got up for the summoning of Parliament, and a new effort might be made to rescue the country from a Popish successor. These fears were vain. The jury returned a verdict of guilty, and Lord Russell expiated on the scaffold the crime of trying to preserve the religion and liberties of his country.
Jeffreys had all the glory of the verdict of guilty, and as the Lord Chief Justice Pemberton had rather flinched during this trial, and the attorney and solicitor general were thought men who would cryCRAVEN, and as the next case was not less important and still more ticklish, all objections to the proposed elevation of the favorite vanished, and he became chiefjustice of England, as the only man fit to condemn Algernon Sydney.[120]
The new chief justice was sworn in on the 29th of September, 1683, and took his seat in the Court of King’s Bench on the first day of the following Michaelmas term.
Sydney’s case was immediately brought on before him in this court, the indictment being removed bycertiorarifrom the Old Bailey, that it might be under his peculiar care. The prisoner wishing to plead some collateral matter, was told by the chief justice that, if overruled, sentence of death would immediately be passed upon him. Though there can be no doubt of the illegality of the conviction, the charge against Jeffreys is unfounded, that he admitted the MS. treatise on government to be read without any evidence of its having been written by the prisoner, beyond “similitude of hands.” Two witnesses, who were acquainted with his handwriting from having seen him indorse bills of exchange, swore that they believed it to be his handwriting, and they were corroborated by a third, who, with his privity, had paid notes purporting to be indorsed by him without any complaint ever being made. But the undeniable and ineffaceable atrocity of the case was the lord chief justice’s doctrine, that “scribere est agere,” and that therefore this MS. containing some abstract speculations on different forms of government written many years before, never shown to any human being, and containing nothing beyond the constitutional principles of Locke and Paley, was tantamount to the evidence of a witness to prove an overt act of high treason. “If you believethat this was Colonel Sydney’s book, writ by him, no man can doubt that it is a sufficient evidence that he is guilty of compassing and imagining the death of the king. It fixes the whole power in the Parliament and the people. The king, it says, is responsible to them; the king is but their trustee. Gentlemen, I must tell you I think I ought more than ordinarily to press this upon you, because I know the misfortune of the late unhappy rebellion, and the bringing of the late blessed king to the scaffold, was first begun with such kind of principles. They cried he had betrayed the trust that was delegated to him by the people, so that the case rests not upon two but upon greater evidence than twenty-two witnesses, if you believe this book was writ by him.”
The chief justice having had the satisfaction of pronouncing with his own lips the sentence upon Sydney, of death and mutilation, instead of leaving the task as usual to the senior puisne judge, a scene followed which is familiar to every one.Sydney.—“Then, O God! O God! I beseech thee to sanctify these sufferings unto me, and impute not my blood to the country; let no inquisition be made for it, but if any, and the shedding of blood that is innocent must be revenged, let the weight of it fall only upon those that maliciously persecute me for righteousness sake.”Lord C. J. Jeffreys.—“I pray God work in you a temper fit to go unto the other world, for I see you are not fit for this.”Sydney.—“My lord, feel my pulse [holding out his hand,] and see if I am disordered. I bless God I never was in better temper than I now am.” By order of the chief justice, the lieutenant of the tower immediately removed the prisoner.
A very few days after, and while this illustrious patriot was still lying under sentence of death, the Lord Chief JusticeJeffreys and Mr. Justice Withins, who sat as his brother judge on the trial, went to a gay city wedding, where the lord mayor and other grandees were present. Evelyn, who was of the party, tells us that the chief and the puisne both “danced with the bride and were exceeding merry.” He adds, “These great men spent the rest of the afternoon until eleven at night in drinking healths, taking tobacco, and talking much beneath the gravity of judges, who had but a day or two before condemned Mr. Algernon Sydney.”
The next exhibition in the court of King’s Bench which particularly pleased Jeffreys and horrified the public, was the condemnation of Sir Thomas Armstrong. This gentleman was outlawed while beyond the seas, and being sent from Holland within the year, sought, according to his clear right in law, to reverse the outlawry.[121]I have had occasion to reprobate the conduct of Lord Keeper North in refusing him his writ of error, and suffering his execution; but Jeffreys may be considered the executioner. When brought up to the King’s Bench bar, Armstrong was attended by his daughter, a most beautiful and interesting young woman, who, when the chief justice had illegally overruled the plea, and pronounced judgment of death under the outlawry, exclaimed, “My lord, I hope you will not murder my father.”Chief Justice Jeffreys.—“Who is this woman? Marshal, take her into custody. Why, how now? Because your relative is attainted for high treason, must you take upon you to tax the courts of justice for murder when we grant execution according to law? Take her away.”Daughter.—“God Almighty’sjudgments light upon you.”Chief Justice Jeffreys.—“God Almighty’s judgments will light upon those that are guilty of high treason.”Daughter.—“Amen. I pray God.”Chief Justice Jeffreys.—“So say I. I thank God I am clamor proof.” [The daughter is committed to prison, and carried off in custody.]Sir Thomas Armstrong.—“I ought to have the benefit of the law, and I demand no more.”Chief Justice Jeffreys.—“That you shall have, by the grace of God. See that execution be done on Friday next, according to law. You shall have the full benefit of the law!” Armstrong was hanged, embowelled, beheaded, and quartered accordingly.
When Jeffreys came to the king at Windsor soon after this trial, “the king took a ring of good value from his finger and gave it to him for these services. The ring upon that was called hisblood stone.”[122]In the reign of William and Mary, Armstrong’s attainder was reversed. Jeffreys was then out of reach of process, but for the share which Sir Robert Sawyer had in it as attorney general, he was expelled the House of Commons.
Jeffreys had now the satisfaction of causing an information to be filed against Sir William Williams for having, as Speaker of the House of Commons, under the orders of the House, directed the printing of “Dangerfield’s Narrative,”[123]the vengeful tyrant thus dealing a blow at once to an old enemy who had reprimanded him on his knees, and to the privilegesof the House, equally the object of his detestation. He was in hopes of deciding the case himself, but he left it as a legacy to his successor, Chief Justice Herbert, who, under his auspices, at once overruled the plea, and fined the defendant ten thousand pounds.
Not only was Jeffreys a privy councillor, but he had become a member of the cabinet, where, from his superior boldness and energy, as well as his more agreeable manners, he had gained a complete victory over Lord Keeper North, whom he denounced as a “trimmer,” and the great seal seemed almost within his grasp.[124]To secure it, he still strove to do every thing he could devise to please the court, as if hitherto nothing base had been done by him. When, to his great joy, final judgment was entered up against the city of London on thequo warranto, he undertook to get all the considerable towns in England to surrender their charters on the threat of similar proceedings; and with this view, in the autumn of 1684, he made a “campaign in the north,” which was almost as fatal to corporations as that “in the West,” the following year, proved to the lives of men. To show to the public the special credit he enjoyed at court, the London Gazette, just before he set out, in reference to the gift bestowed upon him for the judgment against Sir Thomas Armstrong, announced “that his majesty, as a mark of his royal favor, had taken a ring from his own finger and placed it on that of Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys.” In consequence, although when on the circuit he forgot the caution against hard drinking, with which the gift had been accompanied, he carried every thing before him, “charters fell like the walls of Jericho,” and he returned laden with his hyperborean spoils.
I have already related the clutch at the great seal which he then made, and his temporary disappointment.[125]He was contented to “bide his time.” There were only two other occasions when he had it in his power to pervert the law, for the purpose of pleasing the court, during the present reign. The first was on the trial of Hampden, the grandson of the great Hampden, for a trifling misdemeanor. Although this young gentleman was only heir apparent to a moderate estate, and not in possession of any property, he was sentenced to pay a fine of forty thousand pounds—Jeffreys saying that the clause in Magna Charta, “Liber homo non amercietur pro magno delicto nisi salvo contenemento suo,” does not apply to fines imposed by the king’s judges. The other was the inquisition in the action ofscan. mag.brought by the Duke of York against Titus Oates, in which the jury, under his direction, awarded one hundred thousand pounds damages.
Ever since the disfranchisement of the city of London, the ex-recorder had ruled it with a rod of iron. He set up a nominal lord mayor and nominal aldermen; but, as they were entirely dependent upon him, he treated them with continual insolence.
On the sudden death of Charles II., Jeffreys no doubt thought the period was arrived when he must be rewarded for the peculiar zeal with which he had abandoned himself to the service of the successor; but he was at first disappointed, and he had still to “wade through slaughter” to the seat he so much coveted.
Not dismayed, he resolved to act on two principles: 1st, If possible, to outdo himself in pleasing his master, whose arbitrary and cruel disposition became more apparent fromthe hour that he mounted the throne. 2dly, To leave no effort untried to discredit, disgrace, disgust, and break the heart of the man who stood between him and his object.
Being confirmed in the office of chief justice of the King’s Bench, he began with the trial for perjury of Titus Oates, whose veracity he had often maintained, but with whom he had a personal quarrel, and whom he now held up to reprobation—depriving him of all chance of acquittal. The defendant was found guilty on two indictments, and the verdict on both was probably correct; but what is to be said for the sentence—“To pay on each indictment a fine of one thousand marks; to be stript of all his canonical habits; to be imprisoned for life; to stand in the pillory on the following Monday, with a paper over his head, declaring his crime; next day to stand in the pillory at the Royal Exchange, with the same inscription; on the Wednesday to be whipped from Aldgate to Newgate; on the Friday to be whipped from Newgate to Tyburn; upon the 25th of April in every year, during life, to stand in the pillory at Tyburn, opposite the gallows; on the 9th of August in every year to stand in the pillory opposite Westminster Hall gate; on the 10th of August in every year to stand in the pillory at Charing Cross; and the like on the following day at Temple Bar; and the like on the 2d of September, every year, at the Royal Exchange;”—the court expressing deep regret that they could not do more, as they would “not have been unwilling to have given judgment of death upon him.”[126]
Next came the trial of Richard Baxter, the pious and learned Presbyterian divine, who had actually said, and adhered to the saying, “Nolo episcopari,” and who was now prosecuted for a libel, because in a book on church government he had reflected on the church of Rome in words which might possibly be applied to the bishops of the church ofEngland. No such reference was intended by him; and he was known not only to be of exemplary private character, but to be warmly attached to monarchy, and always inclined to moderate measures in the differences between the established church and those of his own persuasion.[127]Yet, when he pleadednot guilty, and prayed on account of ill health that his trial might be postponed, Jeffreys exclaimed, “Not a minute more to save his life. We have had to do with other sort of persons, but now we have a saint to deal with; and I know how to deal with saints as well as sinners. Yonder stands Oates in the pillory, [Oates was at that moment sufferingpart of his sentence in Palace Yard, outside the great gate of Westminster Hall,] and he says he suffers for the truth; and so says Baxter; but if Baxter did but stand on the outside of the pillory with him, I would saytwo of the greatest rogues and rascals in the kingdom stood there together.” Having silenced the defendant’s counsel by almost incredible rudeness, the defendant himself wished to speak, when the chief justice burst out, “Richard, Richard, thou art an old fellow and an old knave; thou hast written books enough to load a cart; every one is as full of sedition, I might say treason, as an egg is full of meat; hadst thou been whipt out of thy writing trade forty years ago, it had been happy. Thou pretendest to be a preacher of the gospel of peace, and thou hast one foot in the grave; it is time for thee to begin to think what account thou intendest to give; but leave thee to thyself, and I see thou wilt go on as thou hast begun; but, by the grace of God, I’ll look after thee. Gentlemen of the jury, he is now modest enough; but time was when no man was so ready atbind your kings in chains and your nobles in fetters of iron, crying,To your tents, O Israel!Gentlemen, for God’s sake do not let us be gulled twice in an age.” The defendant was, of course, found guilty, and thought himself lucky to escape with a fine of five hundred pounds, and giving security for his good behavior for seven years.[128]
The lord chief justice, for his own demerits, and to thrust a thorn into the side of Lord Keeper Guilford, was now raised to the peerage by the title of “Baron Jeffreys of Wem”—the preamble of his patent narrating his former promotions—averring that they were the reward of virtue, and after the statement of his being appointed to preside in the Court ofKing’s Bench, adding, “Where at this very time he is faithfully and boldly doing justice and affording protection to our subjects, according to law, in consequence of which virtues we have thought him fit to be raised to the peerage of this realm.”[129]
He took his seat in the House of Lords on the first day of the meeting of James’s only Parliament, along with nineteen others either raised in the peerage or newly created since the dissolution of the Oxford Parliament—the junior being John Lord Churchill, afterwards Duke of Marlborough. The journals show that Lord Jeffreys was very regular in his attendance during the session, and as the house sat daily and still met at the same early hour as the courts of law, he must generally have left the business of the King’s Bench to be transacted by the other judges. He was now occupied day and night with plans for pushing the already disgraced lord keeper from the woolsack.
I have already, in the life of Lord Guilford, related how these plans were conducted in the cabinet, in the royal circle at Whitehall, and in the House of Lords—particularly the savage treatment which the “staggering statesman” received on the reversal of his decree inHowardv.Duke of Norfolk, after which he never held up his head more.[130]The probability is, that although he clung to office so pusillanimously in the midst of all sorts of slights and indignities, he would now have been forcibly ejected if his death had not appeared to be near at hand, and if there had not been a demand for the services of “Judge Jeffreys” in a scene very different from the drowsy tranquillity of the Court of Chancery.