Atrocious Judges : Lives of Judges Infamous as Tools of Tyrants and Instruments of Oppression

The judgment of the court was pronounced by Mr. Justice Jones,[110 - This is not the William Jones mentioned in the life of Lord North, but a person of a different character, one Edward Jones. —Ed.] the senior puisne judge, who said, —

“Several times have we met and had conference about this matter, and we have waited on my Lord Saunders during his sickness often; and upon deliberation, we are unanimously of opinion that a corporation aggregate, such as the city of London, may be forfeited and seized into the king’s hands, on a breach of the trust reposed in it for the good government of the king’s subjects; that to assume the power of making bylaws to levy money is a just cause of forfeiture; and that the petition in the pleadings mentioned is so scandalous to the king and his government that it is a just cause of forfeiture. Therefore, this court doth award that the liberties and franchises of the city of London be seized into the king’s hand.”

This judgment was considered a prodigious triumph, but it led directly to the misgovernment which in little more than five years brought about the Revolution and the establishment of a new dynasty. To guard against similar attempts in all time to come, the charters, liberties, and customs of the city of London were then confirmed, and for ever established, by act of Parliament.

Saunders was chief justice so short a time, and this was so completely occupied with the great Quo Warranto case, that I have little more to say of him as a judge. We are told that “while he sat in the Court of King’s Bench he gave the rule to the general satisfaction of the lawyers.”

We have the account of only one trial before him at nisi prius, that of Pilkington, Lord Grey de Werke, and others, for a riot. Before the city of London was taken by a regular siege, an attempt had been made upon it by a coup de main. The scheme was to prevent the regular election of sheriffs, and to force upon the city the two court candidates, who had only a small minority of electors in their favor. In spite of violence used on their behalf, the poll was going in favor of the liberal candidates, when the lord mayor, who had been gained over by the government, pretended to adjourn the election to a future day. The existing sheriffs, who were the proper officers to preside, continued the poll, and declared the liberal candidates duly elected. Nevertheless, the court candidates were sworn in as sheriffs, and those who had insisted on continuing the election after the pretended adjournment by the lord mayor were prosecuted for a riot.[111 - So we have lately seen five inhabitants of Philadelphia prosecuted for a riot, for aiding to give effect to a statute of that state abolishing negro slavery. —Ed.] They pleaded not guilty, and a jury to try them having been summoned by the new sheriffs, the trial came on at Guildhall before Lord Chief Justice Saunders. He was then much enfeebled in health, and the excitement produced by it was supposed to have been the cause of the fatal malady by which he was struck a few days after.

The jury being called, the counsel for the defendants put in a challenge to the array, on the ground that the supposed sheriffs, by whom the jury had been returned, were not the lawful sheriffs of the city of London, and had an interest in the question.

L. C. J. Saunders.– “Gentlemen, I am sorry you should have so bad an opinion of me, and think me so little of a lawyer, as not to know that this is but trifling, and has nothing in it. Pray, gentlemen, do not put these things upon me.” Mr. Thompson.– “I desire it may be read, my lord.” L. C. J. Saunders.– “You would not have done this before another judge; you would not have done it if Sir Matthew Hale had been here. There is no law in it.” Mr. Thompson.– “We desire it may be read.” L. C. J. Saunders.– “This is only to tickle the people.” The challenge, however, was read. Jeffreys.– “Here is a tale of a tub indeed!” L. C. J. Saunders.– “Ay, it is nothing else, and I wonder that lawyers should put such a thing upon me.” Mr. Thompson.– “My lord, we desire this challenge should be allowed.” L. C. J. Saunders.– “No, indeed, won’t I. There is no color for it.” Mr. Thompson.– “My lord, is the fact true or false? If it be insufficient in point of law, let them demur.” Jeffreys.– “‘Robin Hood on Greendale stood’!!! I pray for the king that it may be overruled.” Mr. Thompson.– “My lord, I say where a sheriff is interested in point of title, he is no person in law to return a jury. The very title to the office is here in question.” L. C. J. Saunders.– “Mr. Thompson, methinks you have found out an invention, that the king should never have power to try it even so long as the world stands. Who would you have the process go to?” Mr. Thompson.– “To the coroner.” L. C. J. Saunders.– “My speech is but bad; let me know what objection is made, and if I can but retain it in my memory, I don’t question but to give you satisfaction. The sheriffs who returned the jury are sheriffs de facto, and their title cannot thus be inquired into. Wherever the defendant thinks it may go hard with him, are we to have a trial whether the sheriffs be sheriffs or no? What you are doing may be done in every cause that may be trying.” Mr. Thompson.– “My lord, we pray a bill of exceptions.” Jeffreys.– “This discourse is only for discourse sake. Swear the jury.” L. C. J. Saunders.– “Ay, swear the jury.”

So far, he was right in point of law; but, when the trial proceeded upon the merits, to suit the purposes of the government and to obtain a conviction he laid down doctrines which he must well have known to be indefensible respecting the power of the lord mayor to interrupt the poll by an adjournment, and the supposed offence of the electors in still continuing the election, they believing that they were exercising a lawful franchise. Finally, in summing up to the jury, he observed, —

“But they pretend that the sheriffs were the men, and that the lord mayor was nobody; that shows that it was somewhat of the Commonwealth seed that was like to grow up among the good corn.” [Here the report says, the people hummed and interrupted my lord. He thus continued.] “Pray, gentlemen, that is a very indecent thing; you put an indignity upon the king. Pray, gentlemen, forbear; such demeanor does not become a court of justice. When things were topsy turvy I can’t tell what was done, and I would be loth to have it raked up now. These defendants tell you that they believed they were acting according to law; but ignorance of the law is now no excuse, and you will consider whether they did not in a tumultuary way make a riot to set up a magistracy by the power of the people? Gentlemen, it hath been a long trial, and it may be I have not taken it well; my memory is bad, and I am but weak. I don’t question but your memories are better than mine. Consider your verdict, and find as many guilty as you think fit.”

The jury having been carefully packed, the defendants were all found guilty, and they were heavily fined; but after the Revolution this judgment was reversed by the legislature.

During Lord Chief Justice Saunders’s last illness, the Ryehouse Plot was discovered, and it was a heavy disappointment to the government that no further aid could be expected from him in the measures still contemplated for cutting off the Whig leaders and depressing the Whig party. His hopeless condition being ascertained, he was deserted and neglected by all his Whitehall patrons, who had lately been so attentive to him, and he received kindness only from humble dependents and some young lawyers, who, notwithstanding all his faults, had been attached to him from his singular good humor.

A few minutes after ten o’clock in the forenoon of Tuesday, the 19th of June, 1683, he expired in a house at Parson’s Green, to which he had unwillingly transferred himself from Butcher Row when promoted to be chief justice. His exact age was not known, but he was not supposed to be much turned of fifty, although a stranger who saw him for the first time would have taken him to be considerably more advanced in life. Of his appearance, his manners, and his habits, we have, from one who knew him intimately, the following graphic account, which it would be a sin to abridge or to alter, —

“As to his person, he was very corpulent and beastly – a mere lump of morbid flesh. He used to say, ‘by his troggs, (such a humorous way of talking he affected,) none could say he wanted issue of his body, for he had nine in his back.’ He was a fetid mass that offended his neighbors at the bar in the sharpest degree. Those whose ill fortune it was to stand near him were confessors, and in summer time almost martyrs. This hateful decay of his carcass came upon him by continual sottishness; for, to say nothing of brandy, he was seldom without a pot of ale at his nose or near him. That exercise was all he used; the rest of his life was sitting at his desk or piping at home; and that home was a tailor’s house, in Butcher Row, called his lodging, and the man’s wife was his nurse or worse; but by virtue of his money, of which he made little account, though he got a great deal, he soon became master of the family; and being no changeling, he never removed, but was true to his friends and they to him to the last hour of his life. With all this, he had a goodness of nature and disposition in so great a degree that he may be deservedly styled a philanthrope. He was a very Silenus to the boys, as in this place I may term the students of the law, to make them merry whenever they had a mind to it. He had nothing of rigid or austere in him. If any near him at the bar grumbled at his stench, he ever converted the complaint into content and laughing with the abundance of his wit. As to his ordinary dealing, he was as honest as the driven snow was white; and why not, having no regard for money or desire to be rich? And for good nature and condescension, there was not his fellow. I have seen him, for hours and half hours together, before the court sat, stand at the bar, with an audience of students over against him, putting of cases, and debating so as suited their capacities and encouraged their industry. And so in the temple, he seldom moved without a parcel of youths hanging about him, and he merry and jesting with them. Once, after he was in the king’s business, he dined with the lord keeper, and there he showed another qualification he had acquired, and that was to play jigs upon a harpsichord, having taught himself with the opportunity of an old virginal of his landlady’s; but in such a manner, not for defect but figure, as to see him was a jest.”

His Reports are entertaining as well as instructive.[112 - The editions of these Reports by the late Serjeant Williams, and by the present most learned judges, Mr. Justice Patteson and Mr. Justice Vaughan Williams, illustrated by admirable notes, may be said to embody the whole common law of England, scattered about, I must confess, rather immethodically.] Notwithstanding his carelessness about money, he left considerable property behind him.

CHAPTER XV.

GEORGE JEFFREYS.[113 - The name is spelt no fewer than eight different ways – “Jeffries,” “Jefferies,” “Jefferys,” “Jeffereys,” “Jefferyes,” “Jeffrys,” “Jeffryes,” and “Jeffreys,” and he himself spelt it differently at different times of his life; but the last spelling is that which is found in his patent of peerage, and which he always used afterwards.]

George Jeffreys was a younger son of John Jeffreys, Esq., of Acton, near Wrexham, in Denbighshire, a gentleman of a respectable Welsh family, and of small fortune. His mother was a daughter of Sir Thomas Ireland, Knight, of the County Palatine of Lancaster. Never was child so unlike parents; for they were both quiet, sedate, thrifty, unambitious persons, who aspired not higher than to be well reputed in the parish in which they lived, and decently to rear their numerous offspring. Some imputed to the father a niggardly and covetous disposition; but he appears only to have exercised a becoming economy, and to have lived at home with his consort in peace and happiness till he was made more anxious than pleased by the irregular advancement of his boy George. It is said that he had an early presentiment that this son would come to a violent end; and was particularly desirous that he should be brought up to some steady trade, in which he might be secured from temptation and peril.

He was born in his father’s lowly dwelling at Acton in the year 1648. He showed, from early infancy, the lively parts, the active temperament, the outward good humor, and the overbearing disposition which distinguished him through life. He acquired an ascendancy among his companions in his native village by coaxing some and intimidating others, and making those most opposed to each other believe that he favored both. At marbles and leap-frog he was known to take undue advantages; and nevertheless, he contrived, notwithstanding secret murmurs, to be acknowledged as “master of the revels.”

While still young, he was put to the free school at the town of Shrewsbury, which was then considered a sort of metropolis for North Wales. Here he continued for two or three years; but we have no account how he demeaned himself. At the end of this time his father, though resolved to bind him apprentice to a shopkeeper in Wales, sent him for a short time to St. Paul’s School, in the city of London. The sight of the metropolis had a most extraordinary effect upon the mind of this ardent youth, and exceedingly disgusted him with the notion of returning into Denbighshire, to pass his life in a small provincial town as a mercer. On the first Sunday in every term he saw the judges and the serjeants come in grand procession to St. Paul’s Cathedral, and afterwards go to dine with the lord mayor – appearing little inferior to this great sovereign of the city in power and splendor. He heard that some of them had been poor boys like himself, who had pushed themselves on without fortune or friends; and though he was not so presumptuous as to hope, like another Whittington, to rise to be lord mayor, he was resolved that he would be lord chief justice or lord chancellor.

Now it was that he acquired whatever scholarship he ever possessed. Jeffreys applied with considerable diligence to Greek and Latin, though occasionally flogged for idleness and insolence. He at last ventured to disclose his scheme of becoming a great lawyer to his father, who violently opposed it, as wild and romantic and impossible, and who inwardly dreaded that, from involving him in want and distress, it might lead to some fatal catastrophe. He wrote back to his son, pointing out the inability of the family to give him a university education, or to maintain him at the inns of court till he should have a chance of getting into practice – his utter want of connections in London, and the hopelessness of his entering into a contest in an overstocked profession with so many who had the advantage of superior education, wealth, and patronage. Although the aspirant professed himself unconvinced by these arguments, and still tried to show the certainty of his success at the bar, he must have stood a crop-eared apprentice behind a counter in Denbigh, Ruthyn, or Flint, if it had not been for his maternal grandmother, who was pleased to see the blood of the Irelands break out, and who, having a small jointure, offered to contribute a part of it for his support. The university was still beyond their means; but it was thought this might be better dispensed with if he should be for some time at one of the great schools of royal foundation, where he might form acquaintances afterwards to be useful to him. The father reluctantly consented, in the hope that his son would soon return to his sober senses, and that the project would be abandoned with the general concurrence of the family. Meanwhile young George was transferred to Westminster School, then under the rule of the celebrated Busby.

There is reason to fear that the zeal for improvement which he had exhibited at St. Paul’s soon left him, and that he here began to acquire those habits of intemperance which afterwards proved so fatal to him. His father hearing of these had all his fears revived, and when the boy was at Acton during the holidays, again tried in vain to induce him to become a tradesman. But finding all dissuasions unavailing, the old gentleman withdrew his opposition, giving him a gentle pat on the back, accompanied by these words – “Ah, George, George, I fear thou wilt die with thy shoes and stockings on!”

Yet the wayward youth, while at Westminster, had fits of application, and carried away from thence a sufficient stock of learning to prevent him from appearing in after-life grossly deficient when any question of grammar arose. He was fond of reminding the world of the great master under whom he had studied.

His confidence in his own powers was so great, that, without conforming to ordinary rules, he expected to overcome every obstacle. Being now in the neighborhood of Westminster Hall, his ambition to be a great lawyer was inflamed by seeing the grand processions on the first day of term, and by occasionally peeping into the courts when an important trial was going forward. When he was actually lord chancellor, he used to relate that, while a boy at Westminster School, he had a dream, in which a gipsy read his fortune, foretelling “that he should be the chief scholar there, and should afterwards enrich himself by study and industry, and that he should come to be the second man in the kingdom, but in conclusion should fall into disgrace and misery.”

He was now sixteen, an age after which it was not usual to remain at school in those days. A family council was called at Acton, and as George still sanguinely adhered to the law, it was settled that, the university being quite beyond their reach, he should immediately be entered at an inn of court; that, to support him there, his grandmother should allow him forty pounds a year, and that his father should add ten pounds a year for decent clothing.

On the 19th of May, 1663, to his great joy, he was admitted a member of the Inner Temple. He got a small and gloomy chamber, in which, with much energy, he began his legal studies. He not only had a natural boldness of eloquence, but an excellent head for law. With steadiness of application he would have greatly excelled Lord Keeper Guilford, and in the mastery of this science would have rivalled Lord Hale and Lord Nottingham. But he could not long resist the temptations of bad company. Having laid in a very slender stock for a counsel or a judge, he forsook Littleton and Plowden, “moots and readings,” for the tavern, where was his chief delight. He seems to have escaped the ruinous and irreclaimable vice of gaming, but to have fallen into all others to which reckless templars were prone. Nevertheless, he had ever a keen eye to his own interest; and in these scenes of dissipation he assiduously cultivated the acquaintance of young attorneys and their clerks, who might afterwards be useful to him. When they met over a bowl of punch at the Devil tavern, or some worse place, he charmed them with songs and jokes, and took care to bring out before them, opportunely, any scrap of law which he had picked up, to impress them with the notion that, when he put on his gown and applied to business, he should be able to win all the causes in which he might be retained. He was exceedingly popular, and he had many invitations to dinner; which, to make his way in the world, he thought it better to accept than to waste his time over the midnight oil in acquiring knowledge which it might never be known that he possessed.

After the first fervor of loyalty which burst out at the restoration had passed away, a malcontent party was formed, which gradually gained strength. In this, most of the aspiring young lawyers, not actually employed by the government, were ranged – finding it politic to begin in “the sedition line,” that their value might be better appreciated by the court, and a better price might be bid for them. From such reasoning, or perhaps from accidental circumstances, Jeffreys associated himself with the popular leaders, and in the hour of revelry would drink on his knees any toasts to “the good old cause,” and to “the immortal memory of old Noll.”

He was often put to great shifts from the embarrassed state of his finances, the ten pounds for “decent clothing” for a year being expended in a single suit of cut velvet, and his grandmother’s forty pounds being insufficient to pay his tavern bills. But he displayed much address in obtaining prolonged and increased credit from his tradesmen. He borrowed adroitly; and it is said that such an impression was made by his opening talents, that several wealthy men on the popular side voluntarily made him presents of money, in the hope of the important services they were speedily to receive from his support.

It is very much to be regretted that we have not from a Roger North more minute information with respect to the manner in which his character was formed, and his abilities were cultivated. He seems to have been a most precocious young man. While still in his twentieth year, he was not only familiarly acquainted with the town, and completely a man of the world, exciting confident expectations of great future eminence, but he was already received among veteran statesmen as a member of an important party in the state, consulted as to their movements, and regarded as their future leader.

After keeping all his terms, and doing all his exercises, he was regularly called to the bar on the 22d day of November, 1668 – having been on the books of the society five years and six months – the requisite period of probation having been previously, by a general regulation, reduced from seven to the present period of five years.

Although he does not ever appear to have been chosen “reader” or “treasurer” of the society, yet in the year 1678, on being elected recorder of London, he was made a bencher, and he continued to be so till he took the coif, when he necessarily left it for Serjeants’ Inn.

During his early career he was involved in difficulties, which could only have been overcome by uncommon energy. Pressed by creditors, and at a loss to provide for the day that was passing over him, he had burdened himself with the expenses of a family. But this arose out of a speculation, which, in the first instance, was very prudent. Being a handsome young fellow, and capable of making himself acceptable to modest women, notwithstanding the bad company which he kept, he resolved to repair his fortunes by marrying an heiress; and he fixed upon the daughter of a country gentleman of large possessions, who, on account of his agreeable qualities, had invited him to his house. The daughter, still very young, was cautiously guarded, and almost always confined to her chamber; but Jeffreys contrived to make a confidant and friend of a poor relation of hers, who was the daughter of a country parson, and lived with her as a companion. Through this agency he had established a correspondence with the heiress, and an interest in her affections, so that on his last visit she had agreed, if her father’s consent could not be obtained, to elope with him. What was his disappointment, soon after his return to his dismal chamber in the Inner Temple, which he had hoped soon to exchange for a sumptuous manor-house, to receive a letter from the companion, informing him “that his correspondence with the heiress had been discovered by the old father, who was in such a rage, that locking up her cousin, he had instantly turned herself out of doors, and that having taken shelter in the house of an acquaintance in Holborn, she was there in a state of great destitution and distraction, afraid to return to her father, or to inform him of what had happened.” The conduct of Jeffreys on this occasion may be truly considered the brightest passage in his history. He went to her, found her in tears, and considering that he had been the means of ruining her prospects in life, (to say nothing of her being much handsomer than her rich cousin,) he offered her his hand. She consented. Her father, notwithstanding the character and circumstances of his proposed son-in-law, out of regard to his daughter’s reputation, sanctioned their union, and to the surprise of all parties, gave her a fortune of three hundred pounds.

She made an excellent wife, and I do not find any complaint of his having used her ill till near the time of her death, a few years after, when he had cast his affections upon the lady who became the second Mrs. Jeffreys. Meanwhile he left her at her father’s, occasionally visiting her; and he continued to carry on his former pursuits, and to strengthen his connections in London, with a view to his success at the bar, on which he resolutely calculated with unabated confidence.

He was not disappointed. Never had a young lawyer risen so rapidly into practice. But he cut out a new line for himself. Instead of attending in Westminster Hall to take notes in law French of the long-winded arguments of serjeants and eminent counsel, where he would have had little chance of employment, he did not go near any of the superior courts for some years, but confined himself to the Old Bailey, the London Sessions, and Hicks’s Hall. There he was soon “the cock of the walk.”

Some of his pot companions were now of great use to him in bringing him briefs, and recommending him to business. All this pushing would have been of little avail if he had not fully equalled expectation by the forensic abilities which he displayed. He had a very sweet and powerful voice, having something in its tone which immediately fixed the attention, so that his audience always were compelled to listen to him, irrespective of what he said. “He was of bold aspect, and cared not for the countenance of any man.” He was extremely voluble, but always perspicuous and forcible, making use of idiomatic, and familiar, and colloquial, and sometimes of coarse language. He never spared any assertion that was likely to serve his client. He could get up a point of law so as to argue it with great ability, and with the justices, as well as with juries, his influence was unbounded. He was particularly famous for his talent in cross-examination, indulging in ribaldry and banter to a degree which would not now be permitted. The audience being ever ready to take part with the persecuted witness, the laugh was sometimes turned against him. It is related that, about this time, beginning to cross-examine a witness in a leathern doublet, who had made out a complete case against his client, he bawled forth – “You fellow in the leathern doublet, pray what have you for swearing?” The man looked steadily at him, and “Truly, sir,” said he, “if you have no more for lying than I have for swearing, you might wear a leathern doublet as well as I.” This blunt reply got to the west end of the town, and was remembered among the courtiers against Jeffreys when he grew to be a great man.

While a trial was going on, he was devotedly earnest in it; but when it was over, he would recklessly get drunk, as if he never were to have another to conduct. Coming so much in contact with the aldermen, he ingratiated himself with them very much, and he was particularly patronized by a namesake (though no relation) of his own – Jeffreys, alderman of Bread Street Ward, who was very wealthy, a great smoker, (an accomplishment in which the lawyer could rival him, as well as in drinking,) and who had immense influence with the livery.

Pushed by him, or rising rapidly by his own buoyancy, our hero, before he had been two years and a half at the bar, and while only twenty-three years of age, was elected common serjeant of the city of London – an office which has raised a Denman as well as a Jeffreys to be chief justice of England. This first step of his elevation he obtained on the 17th of March, 1671.

But his ambition was only inflamed by this promotion, which disqualified him for a considerable part of his bar practice, and he resolved entirely to change the field of his operations, making a dash at Westminster Hall. He knew well that he could not be employed to draw declarations and pleas, or to argue demurrers or special verdicts; but he hoped his talent for examining witnesses and for speaking might avail him. At any rate, this was the only road to high distinction in his profession, and he spurned the idea of spending his life in trying petty larcenies, and dining with the city companies.

Hard drinking was again his grand resource. He could now afford to invite the great city attorneys to his house as well as carouse with them at taverns, and they were pleased with the attentions of a rising barrister as well as charmed with the pleasantry of the most jovial of companions. He likewise began to cultivate fashionable society, and to consider how he might contrive to get an introduction at court. “He put himself into all companies, for which he was qualified by using himself to drink hard.” Now was the time when men got forward in life by showing their hatred of puritanism, their devotion to church and king, and an affectation of vice, even if actually free from it.

Yet such was the versatility of Jeffreys, that for the nonce he could appear sanctimonious, and even puritanical. Thus he deceived the religious, the moral, the immaculate Sir Matthew Hale, then chief justice of the King’s Bench. Roger North, in drawing the character of this extraordinary man, says, – “Although he was very grave in his own person, he loved the most bizarre and irregular wits in the practice of the law before him most extravagantly. So Sir George Jeffreys gained as great an ascendant in practice over him as ever counsel had over a judge.”

As a King’s Bench practitioner, Jeffreys was first employed at Nisi Prius in actions for assaults and defamation; but before long the city attorneys gave him briefs in commercial causes tried at Guildhall, and though in banc he could not well stand up against regularly-bred lawyers, like Sir Francis North, Sir William Jones, Sir Creswell Levinz, and Heneage Finch, the son of the Lord Chancellor Nottingham, he was generally equal to them before a jury, and he rapidly trod upon their heels.

He anxiously asked himself how he was to climb to high office. He had started with the disaffected party, and they had been of essential use to him; but though they were growing in strength, no chance existed of their being able to make attorney generals, chief justices, or chancellors. At the same time he did not like yet to break with those who might still serve him – particularly in obtaining the recordership, which he coveted as a stepping stone to something better. He resolved so to manage as to be a favorite of both parties till he could devote himself entirely, and exclusively, and openly to the one which should be dominant; and he again succeeded.

From his well-known influence in the city he found no difficulty in making the acquaintance of Will Chiffinch, “the trusty page of the back stairs,” who, besides other employments of a still more confidential nature, was intrusted by Charles II. to get at the secrets of all men of any consequence in every department of life. “This Mr. Chiffinch,” says Roger North, “was a true secretary as well as page, for he had a lodging at the back stairs, which might have been properly termed ‘the Spy Office,’ where the king spoke with particular persons about intrigues of all kinds; and all little informers, projectors, &c., were carried to Chiffinch’s lodging. He was a most impetuous drinker, and in that capacity an admirable spy; for he let none part with him sober, if it were possible to get them drunk, and his great artifice was pushing idolatrous healths of his good master, and being always in haste; for the king is coming; which was his word. Being an Hercules well breathed at the sport himself, he commonly had the better, and so fished out many secrets, and discovered men’s characters, which the king could never have obtained the knowledge of by any other means. It is likely that Jeffreys, being a pretender to main feats with the citizens, might forward himself, and be entertained by Will Chiffinch, and that which at first was mere spying turn to acquaintance, if not friendship, such as is apt to grow up between immense drinkers, and from thence might spring recommendations of him to the king, as the most useful man that could be found to serve his majesty in London.”

Thus, while Mr. Common Serjeant was caballing in the city with Lord Shaftesbury, who had established himself in Aldersgate Street, and talked of becoming lord mayor, he had secretly got a footing at court, and by assurances of future services disposed the government to assist him in all his jobs. His opposition friends were a little startled by hearing that he had been made solicitor to the Duke of York; but he assured them that this was merely a professional employment, unconnected with politics, which, according to professional etiquette, he could not decline; and when he was knighted as a mark of royal favor, with which he was silly enough to be much tickled, he said that he was obliged reluctantly to submit to the degradation as a consequence of his employment.

By some mischance, which is not explained, he missed the office of recorder on the vacancy occasioned by the resignation of Sir John Howel, who so outraged public decency on the trial of Penn and Mead; but Sir William Dolbein, the successful candidate, being made a judge on the 22d of October, 1678, Jeffreys was then elected his successor. Upon this occasion there were three other candidates; but he was so warmly supported by both parties in politics, that they all withdrew before the day of nomination, and he is said in the city records to have been “freely and unanimously elected.”

The new recorder had hardly been sworn in, when feeling that the liberals could do nothing more for him, he utterly cast them off, becoming for the rest of his life the open, avowed, unblushing slave of the court, and the bitter, persecuting, and unappeasable enemy of the principles he had before supported, and of the men he had professed to love.

He entirely forsook Thanet House, in Aldersgate Street, and all the meetings of the Whigs in the city; and instead of secret interviews with Will Chiffinch in the “Spy Office,” he went openly to court, and with his usual address, he contrived, by constant assiduities and flatteries, to gain the good graces both of Nell Gwyn and of the Duchess of Portsmouth, who, since the fall of Lady Castlemaine, held divided empire at Whitehall, balancing the Roman Catholic and Protestant parties. To each of these ladies, it would appear from the libels of the day, his rise was attributed.

However, not long after he had openly ratted, an accident happened that had like to have spoiled all his projects; and that was the breaking out of the Popish plot. Although there is no reasonable ground for saying that it was contrived by Shaftesbury, he made such skilful and unscrupulous use of it, that suddenly, from appearing the leader of a small, declining, and despairing party, he had the city and the nation at his beck, and with a majority in both houses of Parliament, there seemed every probability that he would soon force himself upon the king, and have at his disposal all the patronage of the government. Jeffreys was for some time much disconcerted, and thought that once in his life he had made a false move. He was utterly at a loss how to conduct himself, and his craft never was put to so severe a trial.

Being called into council, he recommended that the government should profess to credit the plot, and should outvie the other side in zeal for the Protestant religion, but should contrive to make Shaftesbury answerable for the reality of the conspiracy; so that, if hereafter it should blow up, or the people should get tired of it, all that was done to punish the supposed authors of it might be laid to his account.

He immediately began diligently to work the Popish plot according to his own scheme. Coleman, Whitbread, Ireland, and all whom Oates and Bedloe accused being committed to prison, it was resolved to prosecute them for high treason in having compassed the death of the king, as well as the overthrow of the Protestant religion; and their trials were conducted by the government as state trials, partly at the bar of the Court of King’s Bench, and partly at the Old Bailey. In the former Jeffreys acted as a counsel, in the latter as a judge. It is asserted, and not improbably, that he had a real horror of Popery, which, though he could control it in the presence of the Duke of York, and when his interest required, at other times burst out with sincerity as well as fierceness.

Scroggs presided at the Old Bailey, but Jeffreys whetted his fury by telling him that the king was a thorough believer in the plot, and by echoing his expressions; as, when the chief justice said to the jury, “You have done like honest men,” he exclaimed in a stage whisper, “They have done like honest men.” As mouthpiece of the lord mayor, the head of the commission, after conviction he had the pleasing duty of passing sentence of death by the protracted tortures which the law of treason prescribed.