Dr. Juxon was, through his influence, raised to the office of Lord High Treasurer, a post which had not been filled by a Churchman since the reign of Henry VII., and this step was much cavilled at by the greater part of the nation, especially by many members of noble families who considered themselves (from their position at least) better fitted for the situation than a clergyman hitherto little known beyond the precincts of his College, and only two years in the possession of a mitre. Loud and angry were the invectives poured on the Government, but more particularly on the Primate,—the Puritans, Laud’s bitter enemies, being most violent on the occasion.
Juxon, in the meanwhile, by his wisdom and discretion, and the excellency of his administration, disarmed the anger of most of those who were so averse to his nomination, and, says Chalmers, ‘when the Republican party ransacked every office for causes of impeachment, sequestration, and death, they found nothing to object to in Bishop Juxon.’
In 1641 he was one of the few manly and generous-hearted Englishmen who defended the cause of Strafford. On the passing of the bill of attainder, which he had strenuously opposed, the Lord High Treasurer resigned his office, and retired to his palace at Fulham, where he remained quietly for some time, unshaken in his loyalty to the King, and often visited by persons of distinction, many of whom consulted him and valued his advice. Charles paid him this tribute: ‘I will say, I never got his opinion freely in my life, but when I had it, I was ever the better for it.’
By consent of the Parliament, Juxon waited on the King at the treaty in the Isle of Wight, 1648, and by Charles’s particular desire, at Cotton House, in Westminster, in January of the following year, at the commencement of the trial.
He now never left the King, who found in this excellent Churchman the greatest comfort and support. He stood beside his royal master on the scaffold, and when the last moment was approaching, ‘There is, sir,’ he said, ‘but one stage more, which, though turbulent and troublesome, is still a very short one. It will soon carry you a great way: it will carry you from earth to heaven, and there you shall find, to your great joy, the prize to which you hasten—a crown of glory.’
‘I go,’ said Charles, ‘from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown, where no disturbance can be.’
‘You are exchanged,’ said Juxon, ‘from a temporal to an eternal crown—a good exchange.’
In taking his last leave of his faithful and devoted friend, Charles looked at him earnestly and said, ‘Remember!’ delivering at the same time his diamond George, to be given to his son.
The King’s last word brought down upon the Bishop the wrath and curiosity of the regicides. They insisted on knowing what it signified.
They insisted also on Juxon’s betraying the confidence of his Sovereign, by detailing all his last conversations. So far the Bishop answered, that the King had charged him to instil into his son’s mind the necessity of forgiving his murderers, and that the word ‘Remember’ had reference to this admonition; but this did not satisfy the suspicions of the inquirers. He accompanied the body to Windsor, where the cruelty of those in power forbade him to read the Funeral Service over the beloved remains. The Commonwealth deprived Juxon of his bishopric, and he retired to his private estate of Little Compton in Gloucestershire, where he remained for some time without molestation, occasionally indulging in the relaxation of field sports, to which he, in common with his Grace the Archbishop, was much addicted.