THOMAS FLEMING.

The greatest part of my readers never before read or heard of the name of Thomas Fleming; yet, starting in the profession of the law with Francis Bacon, he was not only preferred to him by attorneys, but by prime ministers, and he had the highest professional honors showered upon him, while the immortal philosopher, orator, and fine writer continued to languish at the bar without any advancement, notwithstanding all his merits and all his intrigues. But Fleming had superior good fortune, and enjoyed temporary consequences, because he was a mere lawyer—because he harbored no idea or aspirations beyond the routine of Westminster Hall—because he did not mortify the vanity of the witty, or alarm the jealousy of the ambitious.

He was the younger son of a gentleman of small estate in the Isle of Wight. I do not find any account of his early education, and very little interest can now be felt respecting it; although we catch so eagerly at any trait of the boyhood of his rival, whom he despised. Soon after he was called to the bar, by unwearied drudgery he got into considerable practice; and it was remarked that he always tried how much labor he could bestow upon every case intrusted to him, while his more lively competitors tried with how little labor they could creditably perform their duty.

In the end of the year 1594, he was called to the degree of serjeant, along with eight others, and was thought to be the most deeply versed in the law of real actions of the whole batch. It happened that, soon after, there was a vacancy in the office of solicitor general, on the promotion of Sir Edward Coke to be attorney general. Bacon moved heaven and earth that he himself might succeed to it. He wrote to his uncle, Lord Treasurer Burleigh, saying, “I hope you will think I am no unlikely piece of wood to shape you a true servant of.” He wrote to the Queen Elizabeth, saying, “I affect myself to a place of my profession, such as I do see divers younger in proceeding to myself, and men of no great note, do without blame aspire unto; but if your majesty like others better, I shall, with the Lacedemonian, be glad that there is such choice of abler men than myself.” He accompanied this letter with a valuable jewel, to show off her beauty. He did what he thought would be still more serviceable, and, indeed, conclusive; he prevailed upon the young Earl of Essex, then in the highest favor with the aged queen, earnestly to press his suit. But the appointment was left with the lord treasurer, and he decided immediately against his nephew, who was reported to be no lawyer, from giving up his time to profane learning—who had lately made an indiscreet, although very eloquent, speech in the House of Commons—and who, if promoted, might be a dangerous rival to his cousin, Robert Cecil, then entering public life, and destined by his sire to be prime minister. The cunning old fox then inquired who would be a competent person to do the queen’s business in her courts, and would give no uneasiness elsewhere; and he was told by several black-letter judges whom he consulted that “Serjeant Fleming was the man for him.” After the office had been kept vacant by these intrigues above a year, Serjeant Fleming was actually appointed. Bacon’s anguish was exasperated by comparing himself with the new solicitor; and in writing to Essex, after enumerating his own pretensions, he says, “When I add hereunto the obscureness and many exceptions to my competitor, I cannot but conclude with myself that no man ever had a more exquisite disgrace.” He resolved at first to shut himself up for the rest of his days in a cloister at Cambridge. A soothing message from the queen induced him to remain at the bar; but he had the mortification to see the man whom he utterly despised much higher in the law than himself, during the remainder of this and a considerable part of the succeeding reign.

Fleming, immediately upon his promotion, gave up his serjeantship, and practised in the Court of Queen’s Bench. He was found very useful in doing the official business, and gave entire satisfaction to his employers.

At the calling of a new Parliament, in the autumn of 1601, he was returned to the House of Commons for a Cornish borough; and, according to the usual practice at that time, he ought, as solicitor general, to have been elected speaker; but his manner was too “lawyer-like and ungenteel” for the chair, and Serjeant Croke, who was more presentable, was substituted for him.

He opened his mouth in the house only once, and then he broke down. This was in the great debate on the grievance of monopolies. He undertook to defend the system of granting to individuals the exclusive right of dealing in particular commodities; but when he had described the manner in which patents passed through the different offices before the great seal is put to them, he lost his recollection and resumed his seat.

Bacon, now member for Middlesex, to show what a valuable solicitor general the government had lost, made a very gallant speech, in which he maintained that “the queen, as she is our sovereign, hath both an enlarging and restraining power: for, by her prerogative, she may, 1st, set at liberty things restrained by statute law or otherwise; and 2dly, by her prerogative she may restrain things which be at liberty.” He concluded by expressing the utmost horror of introducing any bill to meddle with the powers of the crown upon the subject, and protesting that “the only lawful course was to leave it to her majesty of her own free will to correct any hardships, if any had arisen in the exercise of her just rights, as the arbitress of trade and commerce in the realm.”

This pleased her exceedingly, and even softened her ministers, insomuch that a promise was given to promote Fleming as soon as possible, and to appoint Bacon in his place. In those days there never existed the remotest notion of dismissing an attorney or solicitor general, any more than a judge; for, though they all alike held during pleasure, till the accession of the house of Stuart the tenure of all of them was practically secure. An attempt was made to induce Fleming to accept the appointment of queen’s serjeant, which would have given him precedence over the attorney general; but this failed, for he would thereby have been considered as put upon the shelf, instead of being on the highway to promotion.

Elizabeth died, leaving Bacon with no higher rank than that of queen’s counsel; and on the accession of James I., Fleming was reappointed solicitor general.

The event justified his firmness in resisting the attempt to shelve him, for in the following year, on the death of Sir William Peryam, he was appointed chief baron of the Exchequer. While he held this office, he sat along with Lord Chief Justice Popham on the trial of Guy Fawkes and the gunpowder conspirators; but he followed the useful advice for subordinate judges on such an occasion—“to look wise, and to say nothing.”

His most memorable judgment as chief baron was in what is called “The Great Case of Impositions.” This was, in truth, fully as important as Hampden’s case of ship money, but did not acquire such celebrity in history, because it was long acquiesced in, to the destruction of public liberty, whereas the other immediately produced the civil war. After an act of Parliament had passed at the commencement of James’s reign, by which an import duty of 2s. 6d. per cwt. was imposed upon currants, he by his own authority laid on an additional duty of 7s. 6d., making 10s. per cwt. Bates, a Levant merchant, who had imported a cargo of currants from Venice, very readily paid the parliamentary duty of 2s. 3d. upon it, but refused to pay more; thereupon the attorney general filed an information in the Court of Exchequer, to compel him to pay the additional duty of 7s. 6d.; so the question arose, whether he was by law compellable to do so. After arguments at the bar which lasted many days,—

Fleming, C. B., said: “The defendant’s plea in this case is without precedent or example, for he alleges that the imposition which the king has laid is ‘indebitÈ, injustÈ, et contra leges AngliÆ imposita, and, therefore, he refused to pay it.’ The king, as is commonly said in our books, cannot do wrong; and if the king seize any land without cause, I ought to sue to him in humble manner (humillime supplicavit, &c.), and not in terms of opposition. The matter of the plea first regards the prerogative, and to derogate from that is a part most undutiful in any subject. Next it concerns the transport of commodities into and out of the realm, the due regulation of which is left to the king for the public good. The imposition is properly upon currants, and not upon the defendant, for upon him no imposition shall be but by Parliament.(!) The things are currants, a foreign commodity. The king may restrain the person of a subject in leaving or coming into the realm, and a fortiori, may impose conditions on the importation or exportation of his goods. To the king is committed the government of the realm; and Bracton says, ‘that for his discharge of his office God hath given him the power to govern.’ This power is double—ordinary and absolute. The ordinary is for the profit of particular subjects—the determination of civil justice; that is nominated by civilians jus privatum, and it cannot be changed without Parliament. The absolute power of the king is applied for the general benefit of the people; it is most properly named policy, and it varieth with the time, according to the wisdom of the king, for the common good. If this imposition is matter of state, it is to be ruled by the rules of policy, and the king hath done well, instead of ‘unduly, unjustly, and contrary to the laws of England.’ All commerce and dealings with foreigners, like war and peace and public treaties, are regulated and determined by the absolute power of the king. No importation or exportation can be but at the king’s ports. They are his gates, which he may open or close when and on what conditions he pleases. He guards them with bulwarks and fortresses, and he protects ships coming hither from pirates at sea; and if his subjects are wronged by foreign princes, he sees that they are righted. Ought he not, then, by the custom he imposes, to enable himself to perform these duties? The impost to the merchant is nothing, for those who wish for his commodities must buy them subject to the charge; and, in most cases, it shall be paid by the foreign grower, and not by the English consumer. As to the argument that the currants are victual, they are rather a delicacy, and are no more necessary than wine, on which the king lays what customs seemeth him good. For the amount of the imposition it is not unreasonable, seeing that it is only four times as much as it was before. The wisdom and providence of the king must not be disputed by the subject; by intendment they cannot be severed from his person. And to argue a posse ad actum, because by his power he may do ill, is no argument to be used in this place. If it be objected that no reason is assigned for the rise, I answer it is not reasonable that the king should express the cause and consideration of his actions; these are arcana regis, and it is for the benefit of every subject that the king’s treasure should be increased.”

He then at enormous length went over all the authorities and acts of Parliament, contending that they all prove the king’s power to lay what taxes he pleases on goods imported, and he concluded by giving judgment for the crown.

Historians take no notice of this decision, although it might have influenced the destinies of the country much more than many of the battles and sieges with which they fill their pages. Had our foreign commerce then approached its present magnitude, Parliaments would never more have met in England,—duties on tea, sugar, timber, tobacco, and corn, imposed by royal proclamation, being sufficient to fill the exchequer,—and the experiment of ship money would never have been necessary. The chief baron most certainly misquotes, misrepresents, and mystifies exceedingly; but, however fallacious his reasoning, the judgment ought not to be passed over in silence by those who pretend to narrate our annals, for it was pronounced by a court of competent jurisdiction, and it was acted upon for years as settling the law and constitution of the country.[38]

King James declared that Chief Baron Fleming was a judge to his heart’s content. He had been somewhat afraid when he came to England that he might hear such unpalatable doctrines as had excited his indignation in Buchanan’s treatise, “De Jure Regni apud Scotis,” and he expressed great joy in the solemn recognition that he was an absolute sovereign. Our indignation should be diverted from him and his unfortunate son, to the base sycophants, legal and ecclesiastical, who misled them.

On the death of Popham, no one was thought so fit to succeed him as Fleming, of whom it was always said that, “though slow, he was sure;” and he became chief justice of England the very same day on which Francis Bacon mounted the first step of the political ladder, receiving the comparatively humble appointment of solicitor general.

Lord Chief Justice Fleming remained at the head of the common law rather more than six years. During that time the only case of general interest which arose in Westminster Hall was that of the Postnati. As might be expected, to please the king, he joined cordially in what I consider the illegal decision, that persons born in Scotland after the accession of James to the throne of England, were entitled to all the privileges of natural born subjects in England, although it was allowed that Scotland was an entirely separate and independent kingdom. Luckily, the question is never likely again to arise since the severance of the crown of Hanover from that of Great Britain; but if it should, I do not think that Calvin’s case could by any means be considered a conclusive authority, being founded upon such reasoning as that “if our king conquer a Christian country, its laws remain till duly altered; whereas if he conquer an infidel country, the laws are ipso facto extinct, and he may massacre all the inhabitants.”

Lord Chief Justice Fleming took the lead in the prosecution of the Countess of Shrewsbury before the Privy Council, on the charge of having refused to be examined respecting the part she had acted in bringing about a clandestine marriage, in the Tower of London, between the Lady Arabella Stuart, the king’s cousin, and Sir William Somerset, afterwards Duke of Somerset. He laid it down for law, that “it was a high misdemeanor to marry, or to connive at the marriage of any relation of the king without his consent, and that the countess’s refusal to be examined was ‘a contempt of the king, his crown and dignity, which, if it were to go unpunished, might lead to many dangerous enterprises against the state.’ He therefore gave it as his opinion that she should be fined £10,000 and confined during the king’s pleasure.”

While this poor creature presided in the King’s Bench, he was no doubt told by his officers and dependants that he was the greatest chief justice that had appeared there since the days of Gascoigne and Fortescue; but he was considered a very small man by all the rest of the world, and he was completely eclipsed by Sir Edward Coke, who at the same time was chief justice of the Common Pleas, and who, to a much more vigorous intellect and deeper learning, added respect for constitutional liberty and resolution at every hazard to maintain judicial independence. From the growing resistance in the nation to the absolute maxims of government professed by the king and sanctioned by almost all his judges, there was a general desire that the only one who stood up for law against prerogative should be placed in a position which might give greater weight to his efforts on the popular side; but of this there seemed no prospect, for the subservient Fleming was still a young man, and likely to continue many years the tool of the government.

In the midst of these gloomy anticipations, on the 15th day of October, 1613, the joyful news was spread of his sudden death. I do not know, and I have taken no pains to ascertain, where he was buried, or whether he left any descendants. In private life he is said to have been virtuous and amiable, and the discredit of his incompetency in high office ought to be imputed to those who placed him there, instead of allowing him to prose on as a drowsy serjeant at the bar of the Common Pleas, the position for which nature had intended him.