That Buckingham knew well the character of the Lord Keeper before he promoted him to the Chancellorship—that he calculated on his subservience to himself, expressed in his letters, so that posterity may judge of Bacon’s professions—that he had discovered that the doctrine of expediency influenced the practice of Bacon, is almost certain; for he did not hesitate to sway him to the most disgraceful countenance of abuses for which the whole country was crying out for redress.
Amongst the grievances most disliked were those of monopolies; and amongst the most detested of detestable patents was that for the exclusive manufacture of gold and silver lace. It had been conjointly granted to Sir Giles Mompesson, who is supposed to have been the original of Sir Giles Overreach, and to Sir Frances Michell, who is said to have suggested the character of Justice Greedy. Sir Giles was a Wiltshire knight, patronised by Buckingham; or, as it was the fashion of the day to speak, “a creature of the Favourite’s;” and was concerned, not only in the patent of gold and silver lace, but in forming the monopolies styled the patents of “Inns and Osteries.” In this affair Michell assisted him.[[344]]
To render Bacon justice, he had formerly, when applied to with regard to these patents on behalf of Sir Christopher Villiers, advised Buckingham not to have anything to do with them.[[345]] He declared them to be one of the grievances which Parliament ought to put down; but avowed his readiness, should it not be done away with, “to mould it in the best manner, and help it forward.”[[346]]
The latter course was preferred by Buckingham, and was therefore adopted. The result was not only that the manufacture of gold and silver thread was adulterated, for that would have been a matter of comparatively little consequence, but that an inquisitorial jurisdiction was exercised by the patentees of the Inns and Osteries, who were armed with as great powers as had ever been granted to the farmers of the revenue. The abuses which resulted cried for redress; and, during the session of 1620, Parliament took the matter up. It became the province of the Lord Keeper to interpose, and he decided that it should be settled with all convenient speed. “The meaning of this was,” writes Lord Macaulay, “that certain of the house of Villiers were to go halves with certain of the house of Overreach and Greedy in the plunder of the public.”
Petitions were sent up to Parliament by persons who had suffered under these exactions, and the whole affair was thoroughly “ripped up.”[[347]]
The odium of these abuses fell upon Buckingham; the blame upon the Lord Keeper, who had not restrained these patents. Sir Edward Villiers, who was thought to be as “deep in the mire” as Mompesson and Michell, was sent on an embassy for safety. Mompesson was, on the third of March, 1621, summoned to appear before Parliament: he had fled, assisted, according to common report, by Buckingham, who dreaded further exposure, for Mompesson’s neck was in danger. On the twenty-seventh of the same month, the King went to Parliament, and pronounced sentence on Sir Giles, the dignity of his wife remaining untainted.[[348]] Michell, a newly-made knight, was brought to his trial on the third of May, and suffered the singular sentence of degradation, with all “the ceremonies of abasement,” “but that,” observes Arthur Wilson, “being most proper to his nature, he was but eased of a burthen, his mind suffered not.”[[349]] He was made incapable of holding office, fined 1,000l., and ordered to be imprisoned in Finsbury Prison during the King’s pleasure. The ceremonial was rendered sufficiently effective, and Buckingham, with the highest persons of the realm, witnessed the process. The “old justice,” as Michell was called, was brought by the Sheriffs of London to Westminster Hall, on the last day of Term, when the sentence of Parliament was read before him by a pursuivant, in an audible voice. His spurs were then broken in pieces by the servants of the Earl Marshal, and thrown away; the silver sword was taken from his side, broken over his head, and thrown away. Last of all, he was pronounced no longer a knight, but a knave; Garter, Clarencieux, Norroy sitting at the feet of the Commissioners.[[350]]
Sir Giles Mompesson, meantime, having contrived to elude the sergeants who had him in charge, was safe abroad; but a proclamation was out against him. The Prince and Lords promised to do all they could to ensure his being apprehended: the ports were guarded. Buckingham, meantime, declared in the House that he had no hand in the matter, but that the blame rested with the referees who had tested the lawfulness of these patents.[[351]] Sir Giles was heavily fined; an annuity of 200l. on the new waterworks being all that was reserved for Lady Mompesson and her child.
Two years afterwards he was, however, allowed to return to England for three months, though under some risk; for the people did not forget that the two words, “no Empsons,” formed his anagram, and he was only permitted to land in England on the petition of his wife.[[352]]
With what sensations Buckingham, who had certainly regarded the peculation permitted by these patents as a family perquisite, must have witnessed these proceedings, it is not easy to say. His once generous character was gaining in hardness, and losing the traces of its delicacy and scrupulousness every day.
But evils of a more stupendous character were soon to be detected and avenged by a people who, Bacon truly said, “loved the law of their land.” The Lord Keeper had reckoned for a long time that the protecting hand of the Favourite could cover his venial proceedings. On the twenty-seventh of January, 1620, he was created Viscount St. Albans, with plenary investiture. The Lord Carew carried his robe before him; the Marquis of Buckingham held it up. The prosperous Lord Keeper gave the King most hearty thanks for each successive step of his preferment. 1st, for making him his solicitor; 2nd, his attorney; 3rd, a privy councillor; 4th, Keeper of the Great Seal; 5th, chancellor; 6th, Baron Verulam; 7th, Viscount St. Albans;—honours and emoluments which had been procured for him entirely through the influence of Buckingham. The envious world wondered, according to Sir Symonds D’Ewes, at the gratification of Bacon’s pride and ambition. His estates in land were thought, at that time, not to be more in value than four or five hundred pounds yearly; his debts were supposed to amount to 30,000l. He was then known to receive bribes in all cases of moment that came before him.[[353]] The hour of reckoning, however, eventually arrived.