“But they pretend that the sheriffs were the men, and that the lord mayor was nobody; that shows that it was somewhat of the Commonwealth seed that was like to grow up among the good corn.” [Here the report says, the people hummed and interrupted my lord. He thus continued.] “Pray, gentlemen, that is a very indecent thing; you put an indignity upon the king. Pray, gentlemen, forbear; such demeanor does not become a court of justice. When things were topsy turvy I can’t tell what was done, and I would be loth to have it raked up now. These defendants tell you that they believed they were acting according to law; but ignorance of the law is now no excuse, and you will consider whether they did not in a tumultuary way make a riot to set up a magistracy by the power of the people? Gentlemen, it hath been a long trial, and it may be I have not taken it well; my memory is bad, and I am but weak. I don’t question but your memories are better than mine. Consider your verdict, and find as many guilty as you think fit.”
The jury having been carefully packed, the defendants were all found guilty, and they were heavily fined; but after the Revolution this judgment was reversed by the legislature.
During Lord Chief Justice Saunders’s last illness, the Ryehouse Plot was discovered, and it was a heavy disappointment to the government that no further aid could be expected from him in the measures still contemplated for cutting off the Whig leaders and depressing the Whig party. His hopeless condition being ascertained, he was deserted and neglected by all his Whitehall patrons, who had lately been so attentive to him, and he received kindness only from humble dependents and some young lawyers, who, notwithstanding all his faults, had been attached to him from his singular good humor.
A few minutes after ten o’clock in the forenoon of Tuesday, the 19th of June, 1683, he expired in a house at Parson’s Green, to which he had unwillingly transferred himself from Butcher Row when promoted to be chief justice. His exact age was not known, but he was not supposed to be much turned of fifty, although a stranger who saw him for the first time would have taken him to be considerably more advanced in life. Of his appearance, his manners, and his habits, we have, from one who knew him intimately, the following graphic account, which it would be a sin to abridge or to alter,—
“As to his person, he was very corpulent and beastly—a mere lump of morbid flesh. He used to say, ‘by his troggs, (such a humorous way of talking he affected,) none could say he wanted issue of his body, for he had nine in his back.’ He was a fetid mass that offended his neighbors at the bar in the sharpest degree. Those whose ill fortune it was to stand near him were confessors, and in summer time almost martyrs. This hateful decay of his carcass came upon him by continual sottishness; for, to say nothing of brandy, he was seldom without a pot of ale at his nose or near him. That exercise was all he used; the rest of his life was sitting at his desk or piping at home; and that home was a tailor’s house, in Butcher Row, called his lodging, and the man’s wife was his nurse or worse; but by virtue of his money, of which he made little account, though he got a great deal, he soon became master of the family; and being no changeling, he never removed, but was true to his friends and they to him to the last hour of his life. With all this, he had a goodness of nature and disposition in so great a degree that he may be deservedly styled a philanthrope. He was a very Silenus to the boys, as in this place I may term the students of the law, to make them merry whenever they had a mind to it. He had nothing of rigid or austere in him. If any near him at the bar grumbled at his stench, he ever converted the complaint into content and laughing with the abundance of his wit. As to his ordinary dealing, he was as honest as the driven snow was white; and why not, having no regard for money or desire to be rich? And for good nature and condescension, there was not his fellow. I have seen him, for hours and half hours together, before the court sat, stand at the bar, with an audience of students over against him, putting of cases, and debating so as suited their capacities and encouraged their industry. And so in the temple, he seldom moved without a parcel of youths hanging about him, and he merry and jesting with them. Once, after he was in the king’s business, he dined with the lord keeper, and there he showed another qualification he had acquired, and that was to play jigs upon a harpsichord, having taught himself with the opportunity of an old virginal of his landlady’s; but in such a manner, not for defect but figure, as to see him was a jest.”
His Reports are entertaining as well as instructive.[113] Notwithstanding his carelessness about money, he left considerable property behind him.
CHAPTER XV.
GEORGE JEFFREYS.[114]