The judges unanimously held that, although the alleged offences had been committed in Parliament, the defendants were bound to answer in the Court of King’s Bench, in which all offences against the crown were cognizable. The parties refusing to put in any other plea, they were convicted, and the attorney general praying judgment, they were sentenced to pay heavy fines, and to be imprisoned during the king’s pleasure.
Heath remained attorney general two years longer. The only difficulty which the government now had was to raise money without calling a Parliament; and he did his best to surmount it. By his advice, a new tax was laid on cards, and all who refused to pay it he mercilessly prosecuted in the Court of Exchequer, where his will was law. All monopolies had been put down at the conclusion of the last reign, with the exception of new inventions. Under pretence of some novelty, he granted patents, vested in particular individuals or companies the exclusive right of dealing in soap, leather, salt, linen rags, and various other commodities, although, of £200,000 thereby levied on the people, scarcely £1500 came into the royal coffers. His grand expedient was to compel all who had a landed estate of £40 a year to submit to knighthood, and to pay a heavy fee; or, on refusal, to pay a heavy fine. This caused a tremendous outcry, and was at first resisted; but the question being brought before the Court of Exchequer, he delivered an argument in support of the claim, in which he traced knighthood from the ancient Germans down to the reigns of the Stuarts, showing that the prince had always the right of conferring it upon all who held of him in capite—receiving a reasonable compliment in return. In this instance, Mr. Attorney not only had the decision of the court, but the law on his side. Blackstone says, “The prerogative of compelling the king’s vassals to be knighted, or to pay a fine, was expressly recognized in Parliament by the statute de Militibus, 1 Ed. II., but yet was the occasion of heavy murmurs when exerted by Charles I., among whose many misfortunes it was, that neither himself nor his people seemed able to distinguish between the arbitrary stretch and the legal exertion of prerogative.”[56]
All these expedients for filling the exchequer proving unproductive, the last hopes of despotism rested upon Noy, who, having been a patriot, was eager to be the slave of the court, and proposed his ship money. If this should be supported by the judges, and endured by the people, Parliaments for ever after would have been unnecessary. Heath was willing enough to defend it; but the inventor was unwilling to share the glory or the profit of it with another. Luckily, at that very time, a vacancy occurred in the office of chief justice of the Common Pleas; and there being an extreme eagerness to get rid of Heath, notwithstanding his very zealous services to the crown, he was “put upon the cushion,” and Noy succeeded him as attorney general.
To qualify him to be a judge, it was necessary that he should first become a serjeant; and, according to ancient custom, he distributed rings, choosing a motto which indicated his intention still to put the king above the law—“Lex Regis, vis Legis.” On the 25th of October, 1631, he came in his parti-colored robes to the Common Pleas, and performed his ceremonies as serjeant, and the same day kept his feast in Serjeants’ Inn; and afterwards, on the 27th of October, he was sworn in chief justice.
In the four years during which he held this office, no case of public interest occurred in his own court; but he took an active part in the Star Chamber, and, having prosecuted the Recorder of Salisbury for breaking a painted window without the bishop’s consent, he now sentenced him for the offence. The grand scheme of ship money, which had been long in preparation, was ready to be brought forward, when, to the astonishment of the world, Heath was removed from his office. It has been said that the government was afraid of his opinion of ship money, and wished to prefer Finch,—the most profligate of men,—on whom they could entirely rely. The truth seems to be, that he continued to enjoy the favor and confidence of the government, but that a charge had been brought against him of taking bribes, which was so strongly supported by evidence that it could not be overlooked, although no Parliament was sitting, or ever likely to sit, and that the most discreet proceeding, even for himself, was to remove him quietly from his office. The removal of judges had, under the Stuarts, become so common, that no great sensation was created by a new instance of it, and people merely supposed that some secret displeasure had been given to the king.
Heath presented a petition to the king, setting forth his services as attorney general in supporting the royal right to imprison and to tax the subject, as well as the good will he had manifested while he sat on the bench, and expressing a hope that, as he had been severely punished for his fault, he might not be utterly ruined, but might be permitted to practise at the bar. To this the king, by advice of the Privy Council, consented, on condition that he should be put at the bottom of the list of serjeants, and should not plead against the crown in the Star Chamber.
Accordingly, he took his place at the bar of the Court of Common Pleas, as junior, where he had presided as chief, and speedily got into considerable business. He very soon again insinuated himself into the favor of the government, and assisted Sir John Banks, the attorney general, in state prosecutions. He first addressed the jury for the crown in the famous case of Thomas Harrison, indicted for insulting Mr. Justice Hutton in open court; leaving the attorney general to sum up the evidence.
Not having been on the bench when the judges gave the extrajudicial opinion in favor of ship money, nor when Hampden’s trial came on, he escaped impeachment at the meeting of the Long Parliament; and on the removal of those who were impeached, he was made a puisne judge of the Court of King’s Bench.
When hostilities were about to commence, he happened to be judge of assize at York, where the king lay. He always protested that he was innocent of any plot to make himself chief justice of the King’s Bench; yet, knowing that, from bodily infirmity and lukewarmness in the royal cause, Brampston would not come to York when summoned by the king, there is strong reason to suspect that he suggested the propriety of this summons, on the pretence that the chief justice of England might, as chief coroner, declare an attainder of rebels slain in battle, which would subject their lands and goods to forfeiture. Brampston was ordered to come to York, and not making his appearance, he was removed from his office; and Sir Robert Heath was created chief justice of England, that he might attaint the slaughtered rebels. Sir John Brampston, the autobiographer, son of the judge whom Heath superseded, says, “When Sir Robert Heath had that place, that opinion vanished, and nothing of that nature was ever put in practice.”
But in the autumn of the year 1643, the royalists having gained an ascendency in the west of England, a scheme was formed to outlaw, for high treason, the leaders on the Parliament side—as well those who were directing military operations in the field, as the non-combatants who were conducting the government at Westminster. A commission passed the great seal, at Oxford, directed to Lord Chief Justice Heath and three other judges who had taken the king’s side, to hold a court of oyer and terminer at Salisbury. Accordingly, they took their seats on the bench, and swore in a grand jury, whom Heath addressed, explaining the law of high treason, showing that flagrant overt acts had been committed by conspiring the king’s death and levying war against him, and proving by authorities that all who aided and assisted by furnishing supplies, or giving orders or advice to the rebels, were as guilty as those who fought against his majesty with deadly weapons in their hands. Bills of indictment were then preferred against the Earls of Northumberland, Pembroke, and Salisbury, and divers members of the House of Commons. The grand jury, however,—probably without having read Grotius and the writers on public law, who say that when there is a civil war in a country the opposite parties must treat each other as if they were belligerents belonging to two independent nations, but actuated by a sense of the injustice and impolicy of treating as common malefactors those who, seeking to reform abuses and vindicate the liberties of their fellow-citizens, were commanding armies and enacting laws,—returned all the bills ignoramus; and there could neither be any trial nor process of outlawry.