Not many days after the King’s flight, Captain Som̅ers brought his wife, Mistress Catherine (whose maiden name was Ceaverne, a native of Shropshire), to this stronghold, she being at the time in an interesting condition for the second time, having already presented her husband with a daughter; and there, to the best of our belief, was born, a few months afterwards, the future Lord Chancellor of England, and the first Peer of the name. Few good stories are told of his boyhood, excepting one which was probably very much prized in the home archives, and is remembered till this day, as an omen of his future greatness. He was on a visit to his aunt, Mistress Bluron, the wife of a Presbyterian minister, with whom he was walking hand-in-hand amid the glories of her poultry-yard, when a beautiful roost-cock lighted on the little fellow’s curly head, and crowed three distinct times while perched thereon. No less honour than the Woolsack could surely be prognosticated by so splendid an augury! When, in modern times, could there have been such literal avium garritus?
The boy went to the College School at Worcester, where he became the favourite model pupil of the master, Dr. Bright, a distinguished classical scholar. He is described as weakly in health, wearing a little black cap, but the ‘brightest boy in the whole school, so studious and contemplative that he did not care for the sports of his companions, and was usually seen musing alone with a book in his hand during the hours of recreation.’ He appears to have gone to more than one other school, and at intervals to have learned the business of an attorney in his father’s office, the elder Som̅ers having by this time resumed the profession to which he was bred before he joined Cromwell’s army.
At the time of the Restoration he had solicited, and obtained, a pardon, under the Great Seal, for his former disaffection to the Crown, but, ‘being a lawyer,’ says Lord Campbell, ‘he perhaps remembered Sir Edward Coke’s wise observation, that “good men will never refuse pardon from God or the King, because every man doth often offend both.”’ In 1667 young Som̅ers matriculated, and was entered at Trinity College, Oxford, but apparently only remained there a short time, and did not take his degree. While at the University he showed more predilection for the study of the belles lettres than for that of law, in spite of which his father insisted on his becoming his clerk at Whiteladies. The picturesque old place was now not only inhabited by Som̅ers, the well-to-do solicitor, and his wife and children, but it had been converted into a species of colony, and was peopled by several families connected, for the most part, with the owner, either by blood or marriage. Some of the occupants were engaged in the cultivation of the large farm adjoining, others in producing all kinds and colours for dyeing materials, or manufacturing cloth, which trade was at that time in a flourishing condition in Worcester; and, above all, in making bricks and tiles for rebuilding the ruined city and suburbs. The latter calling gave rise to the epithet by which the scurrilous libellers of later days thought (vainly) to lower the pride of the great Lord Som̅ers, by calling him the brickmaker’s son! When the multifarious labours of the day were at an end, the various inhabitants, occasionally augmented by outside guests, met, to the number of twenty or thirty, round the table, in the old refectory of the nunnery, where the produce of the farm and gardens afforded them a plentiful and inexpensive banquet. John Som̅ers, senior, had great influence in electioneering matters, and also received and entertained at his house many persons of weight and influence,—among others, Sir Francis Winnington, a rising lawyer, and Member for the city, afterwards Solicitor-General. The good knight was much impressed by young John’s talents, and recommended that he should pursue the study of the law, in which profession, he remarked, many Worcestershire men had risen to eminence. It took some time to persuade the father to send his son away from the establishment, which was growing more lucrative every day, but at length he yielded to the wish of Sir Francis, and entered his son as student of the Middle Temple, 1669. The youth returned, however, and read law at Whiteladies for a year before settling in the Temple, and, both at Worcester and in London, he benefited by the friendship and tuition of his good friend Sir Francis. His circle of acquaintance in London was, at first, limited almost exclusively to lawyers, and amongst his intimates was Sir Joseph Jekyll, afterwards his brother-in-law.
But the young Templar returned for his vacations to Worcester (although the society did not much suit his taste) until the year 1672, when he met a genial spirit at Whiteladies. His father was agent for the estates of several noblemen, and, among others, of the young Earl of Shrewsbury, son to the unfortunate Peer who had been killed in a duel with the Duke of Buckingham,—his shameless wife, at least so goes the tradition, holding her lover’s horse while he murdered her husband.
Grafton, the estate of the Shrewsburys, was at that time out of repair, and the young Earl gladly accepted an invitation to Whiteladies, and no sooner did our Templar come down from London for his usual visit, than the two youths formed a friendship which proved lifelong. They became inseparable companions, both in their studies and their recreations, and the intimacy continued when they returned to London. Lord Shrewsbury took a delight in introducing Som̅ers to the most distinguished men of his acquaintance, whether remarkable for birth or learning. John Som̅ers, becoming aware of his own deficiency in education, resolved to return to the University, where he made the Classics his more especial study, without neglecting his legal pursuits, or giving up his visits to home. It speaks well for the liberality both of father and son, that John was able and willing to contribute five pounds (a large sum for a student in those days) towards the reparation of the chapel; and in after years and better circumstances he gave a larger donation for the same purpose, as a proof of his attachment to his old College. We are told rather a laughable story, which shows in what high repute he was held by his father, who, in his frequent visits to London, used to leave his horse at the George Inn at Acton, and in conversing with the landlord seldom omitted a panegyric on ‘young John,’—so much so, that mine host’s curiosity was inflamed, and he requested to be allowed some day to see this prodigy. Mr. Som̅ers, in consequence, asked his son one time to escort him on his way as far as Acton, and on entering the inn, he took the landlord aside, and whispered, ‘I have brought him, Cobbett, but you must not talk to him as you do to me, for he will not suffer such fellows as you in his company.’
John Som̅ers, junior, was called to the bar in 1666, but did not practise much till five years afterwards; and it was on the occasion of the famous trial of the seven Bishops that he first made his mark. Macaulay, in his eloquent account of the transaction, does honour to the rising barrister. He gives an animated description of the progress of these stout-hearted Prelates on their committal to the Tower, to await their trial, of which we give a short extract: ‘The river was alive with wherries when they came forth under a guard to embark, and the emotion of the people broke through all restraint. Thousands fell on their knees and prayed for the men who had emulated the Christian courage of Ridley and Latimer; many dashed into the water up to their waists, and cried on the holy fathers to bless them. All down the stream, from Whitehall to London Bridge, the royal barge passed between lines of boats, whence arose a shout of “God bless your Lordships!”’
John Som̅ers had been chosen as junior counsel for the Bishops on the trial. He had not yet had much opportunity of distinguishing himself in public, ‘but his genius, industry, his great and various accomplishments, were well known to a small circle of friends, and in spite of his Whig opinions, his pertinent and lucid mode of arguing, and the constant propriety of his demeanour, had already secured to him the ear of the Court of King’s Bench, and it was said of him beforehand that no man in Westminster Hall was so well qualified to treat an historical and constitutional question.’
Even while endeavouring to keep within our prescribed limits, we feel it is but simple justice to the future Chancellor to quote the great historian’s own words: ‘Som̅ers rose last. He spoke little more than five minutes, but every word was full of weighty matter, and when he sat down his reputation as an orator and a constitutional lawyer was established. The jury were long in coming to a decision, but when they did return, and the foreman pronounced the verdict—“Not guilty”—amid deathless silence, a tempest of rejoicing arose. Lord Halifax threw up his hat, and ten thousand people who crowded the Hall made the oaken roof crack with shouts, which, echoed by the throng outside, resounded as far as Temple Bar, and were caught up and sent back by all the boatmen on the river. The acquittal was mainly attributed to Som̅ers’s speech, the effect of which upon the jury was greatly heightened by the modesty and grace with which it was delivered. He now, and ever, merited the praise that his pleading at the bar was masculine and persuasive, free from everything that was trivial and affected.’
Amid the solemn details of this most important trial, the comic element cropped up in a speech of one of the jurymen, a Nonconformist, who was brewer to the Court. The story goes that he complained bitterly of the dilemma in which he was placed. ‘What am I to do?’ he asked piteously; ‘if I say Not guilty, I shall brew no more for the Court; if I say Guilty, I shall brew no more for anybody else.’ On the same day that the Bishops were acquitted, a paper was drawn up, entitled ‘The Association,’ censuring the Government of King James II., and calling on William, Prince of Orange, to come over to England, and deliver the country from Popery and despotism. The name of Som̅ers did not appear, but by many it was believed that the wording of the document emanated from him. It was signed by all his political friends, and Lord Shrewsbury immediately afterwards went to the Hague, laden with large supplies of money, to urge on the Prince the advisability of his coming over without delay. William answered by a ‘Declaration,’ announcing his readiness (as the husband of the Princess Mary) to accede to the wishes of the nation, and promised to proceed to England, ‘in order to have a free and lawful Parliament assembled for the maintenance of liberty and the Protestant religion, and by the decision of that Parliament he would abide.’
This document also was ascribed to Som̅ers, or at all events it was said to have been supervised by him, for he had by this time, to quote the words of Lord Sunderland, become the ‘very soul and spirit of his party.’ No sooner had King James left the country than Som̅ers was returned for his native city, having refused to sit in the former Parliaments under the two last Kings.