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 of England. 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 pleaded not 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 suffering part 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 say two 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 at bind 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 of King’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 in Howard v. 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.
By the month of July, Monmouth’s rebellion had been put down, and he himself had been executed upon his parliamentary attainder without the trouble of a trial: but all the jails in the West of England were crowded with his adherents, and, instead of Colonel Kirke doing military execution on more of them than had already suffered from his “lambs,” it was resolved that they should all perish by the flaming sword of justice—which, on such an occasion, there was only one man fit to wield.
No assizes had been held this summer on the western circuit; but for all the counties upon it a special commission to try criminals was now appointed, at the head of which Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys was put; and by a second commission, he, singly, was invested with the authority of commander-in-chief over all his majesty’s forces within the same limits.
On entering Hampshire he was met by a brigade of soldiers, by whom he was guarded to Winchester. During the rest of his progress he never moved without a military escort; he daily gave the word; orders for going the rounds, and for the general disposal of the troops, were dictated by him—sentinels mounting guard at his lodgings, and the officers on duty sending him their reports.
I desire at once to save my readers from the apprehension that I am about to shock their humane feelings by a detailed statement of the atrocities of this bloody campaign in the west, the character of which is familiar to every Englishman. But, as a specimen of it, I must present a short account of the treatment experienced by Lady Lisle, with whose murder it commenced.
She was the widow of Major Lisle, who had sat in judgment on Charles I., had been a lord commissioner of the great seal under Cromwell, and, flying on the restoration, had been assassinated at Lausanne. She remained in England, and was remarkable for her loyalty as well as piety. Jeffreys’s malignant spite against her is wholly inexplicable; for he had never had any personal quarrel with her, she did not stand in the way of his promotion, and the circumstance of her being the widow of a regicide cannot account for his vindictiveness. Perhaps without any personal dislike to the individual, he merely wished to strike terror into the west by his first operation.
The charge against her, which was laid capitally, was that after the battle of Sedgemoor she had harbored in her house one Hickes, who had been in arms with the Duke of Monmouth—she knowing of his treason. In truth she had received him into her house, thinking merely that he was persecuted as a non-conformist minister, and the moment she knew whence he came, she (conveying to him a hint that he should escape) sent her servant to a justice of peace to give information concerning him. There was the greatest difficulty even to show that Hickes had been in the rebellion, and the judge was worked up to a pitch of fury by being obliged himself to cross-examine a Presbyterian witness, who had showed a leaning against the prosecution. But the principal traitor had not been convicted, and there was not a particle of evidence to show the scienter, i. e., that the supposed accomplice, at the time of the harboring was acquainted with the treason. Not allowed the benefit of counsel, she herself, prompted by natural good sense, took the legal objection that the principal traitor ought first to have been convicted, “because, peradventure, he might afterwards be acquitted as innocent after she had been condemned for harboring him;” and she urged with great force to the jury, “that at the time of the alleged offence she had been entirely ignorant of any suspicion of Hickes having participated in the rebellion; that she had strongly disapproved of it, and that she had sent her only son into the field to fight under the royal banner to suppress it.”