The constable and marshal of England possessed a jurisdiction, the proper limits whereof were sufficiently narrow, as it seems, to have extended only to appeals of treason committed beyond sea, which were determined by combat, and to military offences within the realm. But these high officers frequently took upon them to inquire of treasons and felonies cognizable at common law, and even of civil contracts and trespasses. This is no bad illustration of the state in which our constitution stood under the Plantagenets. No colour of right or of supreme prerogative was set up to justify a procedure so manifestly repugnant to the great charter. For all remonstrances against these encroachments the king gave promises in return; and a statute was enacted, in the thirteenth of Richard II., declaring the bounds of the constable and marshal's jurisdiction.[r] It could not be denied, therefore, that all infringements of these acknowledged limits were illegal, even if they had a hundred fold more actual precedents in their favour than can be supposed. But the abuse by no means ceased after the passing of this statute, as several subsequent petitions that it might be better regarded will evince. One, as it contains a special instance, I shall insert. It is of the fifth year of Henry IV.: "On several supplications and petitions made by the commons in parliament to our lord the king for Bennet Wilman, who is accused by certain of his ill-wishers and detained in prison, and put to answer before the constable and marshal, against the statutes and the common law of England, our said lord the king, by the advice and assent of the lords in parliament, granted that the said Bennet should be treated according to the statutes and common law of England, notwithstanding any commission to the contrary, or accusation against him made before the constable and marshal." And a writ was sent to the justices of the King's Bench with a copy of this article from the roll of parliament, directing them to proceed as they shall see fit according to the laws and customs of England.[]

It must appear remarkable that, in a case so manifestly within their competence, the court of King's Bench should not have issued a writ of habeas corpus, without waiting for what may be considered as a particular act of parliament. But it is a natural effect of an arbitrary administration of government to intimidate courts of justice.[t] A negative argument, founded upon the want of legal precedent, is certainly not conclusive when it relates to a distant period, of which all the precedents have not been noted; yet it must strike us that in the learned and zealous arguments of Sir Robert Cotton, Mr. Selden, and others, against arbitrary imprisonment, in the great case of the habeas corpus, though the statute law is full of authorities in their favour, we find no instance adduced earlier than the reign of Henry VII., where the King's Bench has released, or even bailed, persons committed by the council or the constable, though it is unquestionable that such committals were both frequent and illegal.[]

If I have faithfully represented thus far the history of our constitution, its essential character will appear to be a monarchy greatly limited by law, though retaining much power that was ill calculated to promote the public good, and swerving continually into an irregular course, which there was no restraint adequate to correct. But of all the notions that have been advanced as to the theory of this constitution, the least consonant to law and history is that which represents the king as merely an hereditary executive magistrate, the first officer of the state. What advantages might result from such a form of government this is not the place to discuss. But it certainly was not the ancient constitution of England. There was nothing in this, absolutely nothing, of a republican appearance. All seemed to grow out of the monarchy, and was referred to its advantage and honour. The voice of supplication, even in the stoutest disposition of the commons, was always humble; the prerogative was always named in large and pompous expressions. Still more naturally may we expect to find in the law-books even an obsequious deference to power, from judges who scarcely ventured to consider it as their duty to defend the subject's freedom, and who beheld the gigantic image of prerogative, in the full play of its hundred arms, constantly before their eyes. Through this monarchical tone, which certainly pervades all our legal authorities, a writer like Hume, accustomed to philosophical liberality as to the principles of government, and to the democratical language which the modern aspect of the constitution and the liberty of printing have produced, fell hastily into the error of believing that all limitations of royal power during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries were as much unsettled in law and in public opinion as they were liable to be violated by force. Though a contrary position has been sufficiently demonstrated, I conceive, by the series of parliamentary proceedings which I have already produced, yet there is a passage in Sir John Fortescue's treatise De Laudibus Legum Angliæ, so explicit and weighty, that no writer on the English constitution can be excused from inserting it. This eminent person, having been chief justice of the King's Bench under Henry VI., was governor to the young prince of Wales during his retreat in France, and received at his hands the office of chancellor. It must never be forgotten that, in a treatise purposely composed for the instruction of one who hoped to reign over England, the limitations of government are enforced as strenuously by Fortescue, as some succeeding lawyers have inculcated the doctrines of arbitrary prerogative.

Sir John Fortescue's doctrine as to the English constitution.

"A king of England cannot at his pleasure make any alterations in the laws of the land, for the nature of his government is not only regal, but political. Had it been merely regal, he would have a power to make what innovations and alterations he pleased in the laws of the kingdom, impose tallages and other hardships upon the people whether they would or no, without their consent, which sort of government the civil laws point out when they declare Quod principi placuit, legis habet vigorem. But it is much otherwise with a king whose government is political, because he can neither make any alteration or change in the laws of the realm without the consent of the subjects, nor burthen them against their wills with strange impositions, so that a people governed by such laws as are made by their own consent and approbation enjoy their properties securely, and without the hazard of being deprived of them, either by the king or any other. The same things may be effected under an absolute prince, provided he do not degenerate into the tyrant. Of such a prince, Aristotle, in the third of his Politics, says, 'It is better for a city to be governed by a good man than by good laws.' But because it does not always happen that the person presiding over a people is so qualified, St. Thomas, in the book which he writ to the king of Cyprus, De Regimine Principum, wishes that a kingdom could be so instituted as that the king might not be at liberty to tyrannize over his people; which only comes to pass in the present case; that is, when the sovereign power is restrained by political laws. Rejoice, therefore, my good prince, that such is the law of the kingdom which you are to inherit, because it will afford, both to yourself and subjects, the greatest security and satisfaction."[x]

The two great divisions of civil rule, the absolute, or regal as he calls it, and the political, Fortescue proceeds to deduce from the several originals of conquest and compact. Concerning the latter he declares emphatically a truth not always palatable to princes, that such governments were instituted by the people, and for the people's good; quoting St. Augustin for a similar definition of a political society. "As the head of a body natural cannot change its nerves and sinews, cannot deny to the several parts their proper energy, their due proportion and aliment of blood; neither can a king, who is the head of a body politic, change the laws thereof, nor take from the people what is theirs by right against their consent. Thus you have, sir, the formal institution of every political kingdom, from whence you may guess at the power which a king may exercise with respect to the laws and the subject. For he is appointed to protect his subjects in their lives, properties, and laws; for this very end and purpose he has the delegation of power from the people, and he has no just claim to any other power but this. Wherefore, to give a brief answer to that question of yours, concerning the different powers which kings claim over their subjects, I am firmly of opinion that it arises solely from the different natures of their original institution, as you may easily collect from what has been said. So the kingdom of England had its original from Brute, and the Trojans, who attended him from Italy and Greece, and became a mixed kind of government, compounded of the regal and political."[y]

Erroneous views taken by Hume.

It would occupy too much space to quote every other passage of the same nature in this treatise of Fortescue, and in that entitled, Of the Difference between an Absolute and Limited Monarchy, which, so far as these points are concerned, is nearly a translation from the former.[z] But these, corroborated as they are by the statute-book and by the rolls of parliament, are surely conclusive against the notions which pervade Mr. Hume's History. I have already remarked that a sense of the glaring prejudice by which some Whig writers had been actuated, in representing the English constitution from the earliest times as nearly arrived at its present perfection, conspired with certain prepossessions of his own to lead this eminent historian into an equally erroneous system on the opposite side. And as he traced the stream backwards, and came last to the times of the Plantagenet dynasty, with opinions already biassed and even pledged to the world in his volumes of earlier publication, he was prone to seize hold of, and even exaggerate, every circumstance that indicated immature civilization, and law perverted or infringed.[a] To this his ignorance of English jurisprudence which certainly in some measure disqualified him from writing our history, did not a little contribute; misrepresentations frequently occurring in his work, which a moderate acquaintance with the law of the land would have prevented.[]

Instances of illegal condemnation rare.

It is an honourable circumstance to England that the history of no other country presents so few instances of illegal condemnations upon political charges. The judicial torture was hardly known and never recognised by law.[c] The sentence in capital crimes, fixed unalterably by custom, allowed nothing to vindictiveness and indignation. There hardly occurs an example of any one being notoriously put to death without form of trial, except in moments of flagrant civil war. If the rights of juries were sometimes evaded by irregular jurisdictions, they were at least held sacred by the courts of law: and through all the vicissitudes of civil liberty, no one ever questioned the primary right of every freeman, handed down from his Saxon forefathers, to the trial by his peers. A just regard for public safety prescribes the necessity of severe penalties against rebellion and conspiracy; but the interpretation of these offences, when intrusted to sovereigns and their counsellors, has been the most tremendous instrument of despotic power. In rude ages, even though a general spirit of political liberty may prevail, the legal character of treason will commonly be undefined; nor is it the disposition of lawyers to give greater accuracy to this part of criminal jurisprudence. The nature of treason appears to have been subject to much uncertainty in England before the statute of Edward III. If that memorable law did not give all possible precision to the offence, which we must certainly allow, it prevented at least those stretches of vindictive tyranny which disgrace the annals of other countries. The praise, however, must be understood as comparative. Some cases of harsh if not illegal convictions could hardly fail to occur in times of violence and during changes of the reigning family. Perhaps the circumstances have now and then been aggravated by historians. Nothing could be more illegal than the conviction of the earl of Cambridge and lord Scrope in 1415, if it be true, according to Carte and Hume, that they were not heard in their defence. But whether this is to be absolutely inferred from the record[d] is perhaps open to question. There seems at least to have been no sufficient motive for such an irregularity; their participation in a treasonable conspiracy being manifest from their own confession. The proceedings against Sir John Mortimer in the 2nd of Henry VI.[e] are called by Hume highly irregular and illegal. They were, however, by act of attainder, which cannot well be styled illegal. Nor are they to be considered as severe. Mortimer had broken out of the Tower, where he was confined on a charge of treason. This was a capital felony at common law; and the chief irregularity seems to have consisted in having recourse to parliament in order to attaint him of treason, when he had already forfeited his life by another crime.