  FRANCIS NORTH. We now come to one of the most contemptible of men—Francis North, known by the title of Lord Keeper Guilford. He had not courage to commit great crimes; but—selfish, cunning, sneaking, and unprincipled—his only restraint was a regard to his own personal safety, and throughout his whole life he sought and obtained advancement by the meanest arts. Our hero, although he himself ascribed his success to his poverty, was of noble birth. The founder of his family was Edward North, a serjeant at law, chancellor of the Augmentations, and created a baron by writ in the reign of Henry VIII. Dudley, the third baron, “having consumed the greatest part of his estate in the gallantries of King James’s court, or, rather, his son Prince Henry’s,” retired and spent the rest of his days at his seat in Cambridgeshire. When the civil war broke out, he sided with the Parliament, and on rare occasions coming to London, he is said to have sat on the trial of Laud, and to have voted for his death. Having reached extreme old age, he died in the year 1666. Dudley, his heir, who, at the age of sixty-three, stood on the steps of the throne in the House of Lords as “the eldest son of a peer,” was a great traveller in his youth, and served with distinction in the Low Countries under Sir Francis Vere. Yet he never would put on his hat, nor sit down in the presence of his father, unless by the old peer’s express commands. The subject of this memoir was their second son, and was born on the 22d of October, 1637. Though he turned out such a zealous royalist and high churchman, his early training began among republicans and fanatics. As soon as he left the nursery, he was sent to a preparatory school at Isleworth, the master of which was a rigid Presbyterian. His wife was a furious Independent, and she ruled the household. “She used to instruct her babes in the gift of praying by the Spirit, and all the scholars were made to kneel by a bedside and pray; but this petit spark was too small for that posture, and was set upon a bed to kneel, with his face to a pillow.” His family becoming disgusted with the extravagance of the ruling powers, and beginning to look to royalty as the only cure for the evils the nation was suffering, he was removed from Isleworth, and put to a grammar school at Bury St. Edmunds, under a cavalier master. In 1653, he was admitted a fellow commoner at St. John’s College, Cambridge. He is said to have remained there two or three years, applying diligently to the studies of the place; but he seems to have devoted much of his time to the bass-viol, and he left the university without a degree. He was then transferred to the Middle Temple. His father bought him a very small set of chambers, in which he While a student, he paid frequent and long visits to his grandfather, who seems to have become a most singularly tyrannical and capricious old man. Frank exerted himself to the utmost to comply with all his humors, being allowed by him £20 a year. He was always industrious during these visits, though he could not altogether avoid bowling, fishing, hunting, visiting, and billiards; he spent the greater part of his time in reading and commonplacing the law books brought down to him by the carrier. While in town, he always dined in the hall—twelve at noon being the hour of dinner—and supped there again at six; after which “case-putting” began in the cloister walks; and he acquired the character of a great “put-case.” He kept a commonplace book, which seems to have been almost as massive as Brooke’s “Abridgment of the Law.” He made himself well acquainted with the Year Books, although not altogether so passionately attached to them as Serjeant Maynard, who, when he was taking an airing in his coach, always carried a volume of them along with him, which, he said, amused him more than a comedy. He attended all famous legal arguments, particularly those of Sir Heneage Finch, and By way of relaxation he would go to music meetings, or to hear Hugh Peters preach. Nothing places him in such an amiable point of view as the delight he is said to have taken, on rare occasions, in “a petit supper and a bottle,” when there really seems to have been a short oblivion of anxiety about his rise in the world; but, to show his constitutional caution, his brother Roger assures us that, “whenever he was a little overtaken, it was a warning to him to take better care afterwards.” Long before he was called to the bar, “he undertook the practice of court-keeping;” that is, he was appointed the steward of a great many manors by his grandfather and other friends, and he did all the work in person, writing all his court-rolls, and making out his copies with his own hand. I am afraid he now began his violation of the rights and liberties of his fellow-subjects by practising some petty extortions upon the bumpkins who came before him. “His grandfather,” says Roger,[83] with inimitable simplicity, “had a venerable old steward, careful by nature and faithful to his lord, employing all his thoughts and time to manage for supply of his house and upholding his rents,—in short, one of a race of human kind heretofore frequent, but now utterly extinct,—affectionate as well as faithful, and diligent rather for love than self-interest. This old gentleman, with his boot-hose and beard, used to accompany his young master to his Having been the requisite time on the books of the society of the Middle Temple, and performed all his moots, (upon which he bestowed great labor,) Francis was called to the bar. The allowance of sixty pounds a year which he had hitherto received from his father was now reduced to fifty, in respect of the pence he collected by court-keeping and the expected profits of his practice. He highly disapproved of this reduction, and wrote many letters to his father to remonstrate against it. At last he received an answer which he hoped was favorable, but which contained only these words, “Frank, I suppose by this time, having vented all your discontent, you are satisfied with what I have done.” The reduced allowance, however, was continued to him as long as his father lived, who said “he would not discourage industry by rewarding it when successful with loss.” The young barrister was now hard put to it. He took “a practising chamber” on a first floor in Elm Court, “a dismal hole—dark next the court, and on the other side a high building of the Inner Temple standing within five or six yards of the windows.” He was able to fill his shelves with all useful books of the law from the produce of certain legacies and gifts collected for him by his mother,[84] and he seems He is much praised by his brother, because it is said “he did not, (as seems to have been common,) for the sake of pushing himself, begin by bustling about town and obtruding himself upon attorneys, or bargaining for business, but was contented if chance or a friend brought him a motion, as he was standing at the bar taking notes.” These, however, came so rarely that he fell into a very dejected and hypochondriacal state. Thinking himself dying, he carried a list of his ailments to a celebrated physician, Dr. Beckenham of Bury, who laughed at him and sent him away, prescribing fresh air and amusement. He was in danger of utterly sinking in the slough of despond, when he was suddenly taken by the hand by the great lawyer, Sir Jeffrey Palmer, who was made attorney general on the restoration of Charles II., and who if he had lived must have been lord chancellor. His son Edward, a very promising young man, lately called to the bar, died about this time in the arms of Francis North, who had been at college with him, and had shown him great attention during his illness. All the business destined for young Palmer now somehow found its way to his surviving friend. His powerful protector, the attorney general, rapidly brought him forward by employing him in government prosecutions, and even when he himself was confined by illness, by giving him his briefs in smaller matters to hold for him in court. North, we may be Being considered a rising man, his private friends and near relations came to consult him. He was once asked if he took fees from them. “Yes,” said he; “they no doubt come to do me a kindness; and what kindness have I if I refuse their money?” Soon after he was called to the bar, he went the Norfolk circuit, where his family interest lay; but here again he chiefly relied upon his grand resource of flattering his superiors and accommodating himself to their humors. “He was exceeding careful to keep fair with the cocks of the circuit, and particularly with Serjeant Earl, who had almost a monopoly. The Serjeant was a very covetous man, and when none would starve with him in journeys, this young gentleman kept him company.” They once rode together from Cambridge to Norwich without drawing bit, to escape the expense of baiting at an inn; and North would have been famished, if the serjeant’s man, knowing his master’s habits, had not privately furnished him with a cake. He asked the serjeant, out of compliment to his riches, how he kept his accounts, “for you have,” said he, “lands, securities, and great comings in of all kinds.” “Accounts, boy!” exclaimed the serjeant, “I get as much as I can, and I spend as little as I can; and there is all the account I keep.” In these journeys the serjeant talked so agreeably of law, and tricks, and purchases, and management, that North’s hunger was beguiled, and he Lord Chief Justice Hyde generally rode the Norfolk circuit, and so completely had North taken the measure of his foot, that my lord called him “cousin” in open court, “which was a declaration that he would take it for a respect to himself to bring him causes.” The biographer to whom we are so much indebted lays it down that there is no harm in a judge letting it be known “that a particular counsel will be easily heard before him, and that his errors and lapses, when they happen, will not offend his lordship or hurt the cause.” The morality of the bar in those days will be better understood by the following observations of simple Roger: “In circuit practice there is need of an exquisite knowledge of the judge’s humor, as well as his learning and ability to try causes; and he, North, was a wonderful artist at watching a judge’s tendency, to make it serve his turn, and yet never failed to pay the greatest regard and deference to his opinion; for so they get credit; because the judge for the most part thinks that person the best lawyer that respects most his opinion. I have heard his lordship say, that sometimes he hath been forced to give up a cause to the judge’s opinion when he (the judge) was plainly in the wrong, and when more contradiction had but made him more positive; and, besides, that in so doing he himself had weakened his own credit with the judge, thereby been less able to set him right when he was inclined to it. A good opinion so gained often helps at another time to good purpose, and sometimes to ill purpose; as I heard it credibly reported of Serjeant Maynard that, being the leading counsel in a small feed cause, he would give it up to the There was no nonsense, however arrant, a silly judge might speak in deciding for North, which he would not back. Thus a certain Mr. Justice Archer, who seems to have been the laughing stock of the profession, having, to the amusement of the juniors, “noted a difference between a renunciation of an executorship upon record and in pais,” North said, “Ay, my lord; just so, my lord;” upon which his lordship became as fierce as a lion, and would not hear the argument on the other side. But even such a learned and sensible judge as Chief Justice Hale, North could win by an affectation of modesty, diffidence, and profound veneration. Early in his career, when he found it difficult to get to his place in a very crowded court, Sir Matthew said from the bench, “Good people, make way for this little gentleman; he will soon make way for himself.” His consultations were enormously long, and he gained vast applause at them by his care and dexterity in probing the cause, starting objections, inventing points, foretelling what would be said by the opposite counsel and by the judge, and showing how the verdict might be lost or was to be secured; but, to make security doubly sure, after mastering the record and perusing the deeds to be given in evidence, he himself Need we wonder that from an humble beginner, rejoicing in a cause that came to him, he soon became “cock of the circuit”—all who had trials rejoicing to have him on their side? I shall give one specimen of his conduct as a leader. He was counsel for the defendant in an action tried before his friend Judge Archer, for not setting out tithes—in which the treble value was to be recovered. Finding that he had not a leg to stand upon, he manoeuvred to get his client off with the single value; so he told his lordship that this was a cause to try a right of a very intricate nature, which would require the reading a long series of records and ancient writings, and that it ought not to be treated as a penal action; wherefore, they should agree upon the single value of the tithes, for which the verdict should be taken conditionally, and then proceed fairly to try the merits. The judge insisted on this course being adopted; and the other side, not to irritate him, acquiesced in North’s proposal. “Then did he open a long history of matters upon record, of bulls, monasteries, orders, greater and lesser houses, surrenders, patents, and a great deal more, very proper if it had been true, while the counsel on the other side stared at him; and having done, they bid him go to his evidence. He leaned back, as speaking to the attorney, and then, ‘My lord,’ said he, ‘we are very unhappy in this cause. The attorney tells me they forgot to examine their copies with the originals at the Tower;’ and (so folding up his brief,) ‘My lord,’ said he, ‘they must have the verdict, and we must come better prepared another time.’ So, notwithstanding all the mooting the other side could make, the While North had such success on the circuit, he was equally flourishing in Westminster Hall. By answering cases and preparing legal arguments for Sir Jeffrey Palmer, and by flouting at parliamentary privilege, he was still higher than ever in favor with that potential functionary. It happened that in the year 1668, after the fall of the Earl of Clarendon, a writ of error was brought in the House of Lords by Denzil Hollis, now Lord Hollis, the only defendant surviving, upon the judgment of the Court of King’s Bench in the great case of The King v. Sir John Elliot, Denzil Hollis, and Others, decided in the fifth year of the reign of Charles I. This had been a prosecution by the king against five members of the House of Commons, for what had been done in the House on the last day of the session, when Sir John Finch was held in the chair while certain resolutions alleged to be seditious had been voted, and one of the defendants had said “that the Council and judges had all conspired to trample under foot the liberties of the subject.” They had pleaded to the jurisdiction of the Court of King’s Bench, “that the supposed offences were committed in Parliament, and ought not to be punished or inquired of in this court, or elsewhere than in Parliament.” But their plea had been overruled, and they were all sentenced to heavy fine and imprisonment. Although there had been resolutions of the House of Commons, on the meeting of the Long Parliament, condemning this judgment, it still stood on record, and Lord Hollis thought it was a duty he owed to his country, before he died, to have it reversed. Sir Jeffrey Palmer, as attorney general, pleaded in nullo To terminate the difference they were both set aside, and the office of solicitor general was given to Sir Edward Turner, speaker of the House of Commons, who held it for a twelvemonth, at the end of which he was made chief baron of the Exchequer, in the room of Sir Matthew Hale, promoted to be chief justice of the Common Pleas. Buckingham’s influence had greatly declined, and North was made solicitor general without difficulty, Jones being solaced with a silk gown, and the promise of further promotion on the next vacancy. The Cabal was now in its full ascendancy; and as the leaders did not take any inferior members of the government into their councils, and contrived to prevent the meeting of Parliament for nearly two years, the new solicitor had only to attend to his profession. Of course, he gave up But if he was eager to get money, he spent it freely. He was now appointed “autumn reader” of the Middle Temple, and though the festivity was not honored with the presence of royalty, like Finch’s, in the Inner Temple, it was conducted sumptuously, and cost him above a thousand pounds. He took I must not pass over his loves, although they were not very romantic or chivalrous. He was desirous of being married, among other reasons, because he was tired of dining in the hall and eating “a costelet and salad at Chastelin’s in the evening with a friend;” and he wished to enjoy the pleasures of domestic life. One would have thought that the younger son of a peer, of great reputation at the bar, solicitor general at thirty-one, and rising to the highest offices in the law, might have had no difficulty in matching to his mind; but he met with various rebuffs and disappointments. Above all, he required wealth, which it seems was not then easily to be obtained without the display of a long rent roll. He first addressed the daughter of an old usurer in Gray’s Inn, who speedily put an end to the suit by asking him “what estate his father intended to settle upon him for present maintenance, jointure, and provision for children.” He could not satisfy this requisition by an “abstract” of his “profitable rood of ground in Westminster Hall.” He then paid court to a coquettish young widow; but after showing him some favor, she jilted him for a jolly old knight of good estate. The next proposition was made by him to a city alderman, the father of many daughters, who, it was given out, were to have each a portion of six thousand pounds. North dined with the At last his mother found him a match to his mind in the Lady Frances Pope, one of the three daughters and coheirs of the Earl of Down, who lived at Wroxton, in Oxfordshire, with fortunes of fourteen thousand pounds apiece. We are surprised to find that, with all his circuit and Westminster Hall earnings, he was obliged to borrow six hundred pounds from a friend before he could compass six thousand pounds to be settled upon her. He then ventured down with grand equipage and attendance, and in less than a fortnight obtained the young lady’s consent, and the writings being sealed, the lovers were happily married. The feasting and jollities in the country lasted three weeks, and Mr. Solicitor, heartily tired of them, was very impatient to get back to his briefs. However, he seems always to have treated his wife, while she lived, with all due tenderness. He took a house in Chancery Lane, near Serjeants’ Inn, and acquired huge glory by constructing a drain for the use of the neighborhood—a refinement never before heard of in that quarter. This was the happiest period of his life. In the beginning of 1673, the meeting of Parliament could be deferred no longer, and it was considered necessary that the solicitor general should have a seat in the House of Commons. He remained member for Lynn till he was made chief justice of the Common Pleas, in January, 1675; but I can Shaftesbury was at last turned out, the great seal was given to Sir Heneage Finch, and North became attorney general. He had for his colleague as solicitor his old rival, Sir William Jones, who seems to have been a considerable man, who afterwards had the virtue voluntarily to give up office that he might join the popular party, and who, if not cut off by an early death, would probably have acted the part of Lord Somers at the Revolution, and left a great name in history. Parliament met in a few weeks after North’s promotion. We are told that “little or nothing of the king’s business in the House of Commons leaned upon him, because Mr. Secretary Coventry was there, who managed for the court.” North once or twice spoke a few words, “in resolving the fallacies of the country party,” but did not venture beyond an opinion upon a point of law which incidentally arose. “He could not attend the house constantly, but took the liberty of pursuing his practice in Westminster Hall.”[87] There he was easily the first; and the quantity of business which he got through in Chancery (“his home”) and the other courts where he went special seems to have been enormous. His mode of preparation was (like Lord Erskine’s) to have a consultation in the evening before reading his brief, when “he was informed of the history of the cause, and where the pinch was”. Next morning at four he was called by a trusty boy, who never failed, winter or summer, to come into his chamber Fees now flowed in upon him so fast that he hardly knew how to dispose of them. He seems to have taken them from his clients with his own hand. At one time he had had a fancy, for his health, to wear a sort of skullcap. He now routed out three of these, which he placed on the table before him, and into these he distributed the cash as it was paid to him. “One had the gold, another the crowns and half crowns, and another the smaller money.” When these vessels were full, they were committed to his brother Roger, who told out the pieces and put them into bags, which he carried to Child’s, the goldsmith, at Temple Bar.[89] But still Mr. Attorney was dissatisfied with his position. He could not but be mortified by his insignificance in the House of Commons. The country party there was rapidly gaining strength, and although it was not then usual for the crown to turn out its law officers on a change of ministers, he began to be very much frightened by threats of impeachment uttered against all who were instrumental in executing the measures of the government. Shaftesbury was in furious opposition. While only at the head of a small minority in the House of Lords, the House of Commons was more and more under his influence. North was exceedingly timid, always conjuring up imaginary dangers, and exaggerating such as he had to encounter. He now exceedingly longed to Vaughan, the chief justice of that court, died, and North’s wishes were accomplished, notwithstanding some intrigues to elevate Sir William Jones or Sir William Montagu. When it came to the pinch, North was rather shocked to think of the sacrifice of profit which he was making, “for the attorney’s place was (with his practice) near seven thousand pounds per annum, and the cushion of the Common Pleas not above four thousand. But accepting, he accounted himself enfranchised from the court brigues and attendances at the price of the difference.” North held the office of chief justice of the Common Pleas nearly eight years, which may be divided into two periods—1st. From his appointment till the formation of the Council of Thirty, on the recommendation of Sir William Temple, in the year 1679; 2dly. From thence till he received the great seal, in the end of the year 1682. During the former he mixed little in politics, and devoting himself to his juridical duties, he discharged them creditably. At this time, and for long after, the emoluments of the judges in Westminster Hall depended chiefly upon fees, and there was a great competition between the different courts for business. The King’s Bench, originally instituted for criminal proceedings, had, by a dexterous use of their writ of “latitat,” tricked the Common Pleas of almost all civil actions; and when the new chief justice took his seat, he found his court a desert. There was hardly sufficient business to countenance his coming every day in term to Westminster Hall, while the serjeants and officers were repining At this time, a judge, when appointed, selected a circuit, to which he steadily adhered, till another, which he preferred, became vacant. Chief Justice North for several years “rode the western;” and in his charges to juries, as well as in his conversation with the country gentlemen, he strongly inculcated the most slavish church-and-king doctrines, insomuch that the Cavaliers called him “DeliciÆ Occidentis,” or “The Darling of the West.” The chief justice afterwards went the northern circuit, attended by his brother Roger, who gives a most entertaining account of his travels, and who seems to have thought the natives of Northumberland and Cumberland as distant, as little known, and as barbarous, as we should now think the Esquimaux or the aborigines of New Zealand. Till the Popish plot broke out, Chief Justice North had no political trials before him; and the only cases which gave him much anxiety were charges of witchcraft. He does not appear, like Chief Justice Hale, to have been a believer in the black art; but, with his characteristic timidity, he was afraid to combat the popular prejudice, lest the countrymen should cry, “This judge hath no religion; he doth not believe witches.” Therefore he avoided trying witches himself as much as possible, and turned them over to his brother judge, Mr. Justice Raymond, whom he allowed to hang them. He was once forced to try a wizard; but the fraud of a young girl, whom the prisoner was supposed to have enchanted and made to spit pins, was so clearly exposed by the The Popish plot he treated as he did witchcraft. He disbelieved it from the beginning, but was afraid openly to express a doubt of its reality. He thought it might be exposed by the press, and he got a man to publish an anonymous pamphlet against it, to which he contributed; but sitting along with Chief Justice Scroggs, who presided at the trial of those charged with being implicated in it, he never attempted to restrain this “butcher’s son and butcher” from slaughtering the victims. So on the trial of Lord Stafford, though he privately affected severely to condemn the proceeding, he would not venture to save Lord Nottingham,[90] the high steward, from the disgrace of assisting in that murder; and he dryly gave his own opinion that two witnesses were not necessary to each overt act of treason. We have still more flagrant proof of his baseness on the trial of Reading, prosecuted by order of the House of Commons for trying to suppress evidence of the plot. North himself now presided, and having procured a conviction, in sentencing the defendant to fine, imprisonment, and pillory, he said, “I will tell you your offence is so great, and hath such a relation to that which the whole nation is concerned in, because it was an attempt to baffle the evidence of that conspiracy, which, if it had not been, by the mercy of God, We now come to present North on the political stage, where he continued to act a very conspicuous and disreputable part down to the time of his death. In the year 1679, when the king adopted his new plan of government by a Council of Thirty, of which Shaftesbury was made president, and into which Lord Russell and several of the popular leaders were introduced, it was thought fit to balance them by some determined ultra-royalists; and the lord chief justice of the Common Pleas, who had acquired himself the reputation of being the most eminent of that class, was selected, although he had not hitherto been a privy councillor. At first he seldom openly gave any opinion in council, but he secretly engaged in the intrigues which ended in the abrupt prorogation and dissolution of the Parliament, in the dismissal of Shaftesbury, and the resignation of Lord Russell and the whigs. The scheme of government was then altered, and a cabinet, consisting of a small number of privy councillors, was formed, North being one of them. To his opinion on legal and constitutional questions the government was now disposed to show more respect than to that of Lord Chancellor Nottingham. There being much talk against the court in the London coffee houses, it was wished to suppress them by proclamation; and our chief justice, being consulted on the subject, gave this response—that “though retailing of coffee may, under certain circumstances, be an innocent trade, yet as it is used at present in the nature of a common assembly to discourse of matters of state, news, and great persons, it becomes unlawful; and as the coffee houses are nurseries of idleness The meeting of the new Parliament summoned in the end of 1679 having been repeatedly postponed, there arose the opposite factions of “Petitioners” and “Abhorrers”—the former petitioning the king that Parliament might be speedily assembled for the redress of grievances, and the latter, in their addresses to the king, expressing their abhorrence of such seditious sentiments. The “Petitioners,” however, were much more numerous and active, and a council was called to consider how their proceedings might be stopped or punished. Our chief justice recommended a proclamation, which the king approved of, and ordered the attorney general, Sir Creswell Levinz, to draw. Mr. Attorney, alarmed by considering how he might be questioned for such an act on the meeting of Parliament, said, “I do not well understand what my lord chief justice means, and I humbly pray of your majesty that his lordship may himself draw the proclamation.” King.—“My lord, I think then you must draw this proclamation.” Chief Justice.—“Sire, it is the office of your majesty’s attorney general to prepare all royal proclamations, and it is not proper for any one else to do it. I beg that your majesty’s affairs may go on in their due course; but if in this matter Mr. Attorney doubts any thing, and will give himself the trouble to call upon me, I will give him the best assistance I can.” Parliament at last met, and strong measures were taken against the “Abhorrers,” who had obstructed the right of petitioning. An inquiry was instituted respecting the proclamation. Sir Creswell Levinz was placed at the bar, and asked by whose advice or assistance he had prepared it. He several times refused to answer; but being hard pressed, and afraid of commitment to the Tower, he named the Lord Chief Justice North, against whom there had been a strong suspicion, but no proof. A hot debate arose, which ended in the resolution, “That the evidence this day given to this house against Sir Francis North, chief justice of the Common Pleas, is sufficient ground for this house to proceed He was a good deal alarmed by the vote of impeachment,[92] but it raised him still higher in favor at court. Next day, presiding in the House of Lords as speaker, in the absence of the lord chancellor, and seeming very much dejected, King Charles (according to his manner) “came and clapped himself down close by him on the woolsack, and ‘My lord,’ said he, ‘be of good comfort; I will never forsake my friends, as my father did.’” His majesty, without waiting for a reply, then walked off to another part of the house. A committee was appointed to draw up the articles of impeachment against the chief justice; but before they made any report, this Parliament too was dissolved. Soon after the summoning of Charles’s last Parliament, North was obliged to set off upon the spring circuit; and notwithstanding his best efforts to finish the business rapidly, he could not arrive at Oxford till the two houses had assembled. He was one of the small junto to whom was intrusted the secret of immediate dissolution. The moment the deed was done, he set off for London, pretending to be afraid of what he called “the positive armament against the king, which manifestly showed itself at Oxford.” As soon as the Cabinet met at Whitehall, North advised the issuing of a Declaration to justify the dissolution of the three last Parliaments which had met respectively at Westminster and Oxford, and himself drew an elaborate one, which was adopted. This state paper certainly puts the So far his conduct was legitimate, and in the fair exercise of his functions as a privy councillor; but I am sorry to say that he now sullied his ermine by a flagrant disregard of his duties as a judge. The grand jury for the city of London having very properly thrown out the bill of indictment against Stephen College, “the Protestant joiner,” it was resolved to try him at Oxford; and for this purpose a special commission was issued, at the head of which was placed Lord Chief Justice North. Burnet says mildly, “North’s behavior in that whole matter was such that, probably, if he had lived to see an impeaching Parliament, he might have felt the ill effects of it.” After perusing the trial, I must say that his misconduct upon it was most atrocious. The prisoner, being a violent enemy to Popery, had attended the city members to Oxford as one of their guard, with “No Popery” flags and cockades, using strong language against the Papists and their supporters, but without any thought of using force. Yet the chief justice was determined that he should be found guilty of compassing and imagining the king’s death, and levying war against him in his realm.[93] College’s papers, which he was to use in his defence, were forcibly taken from him, on the ground that they had been written by some other persons, who gave him hints what he was to say. They were in reality prepared by his legal advisers, Mr. Aaron Smith and Mr. He was next called upon to assist at the immolation of a nobler victim, who escaped from the horns of the altar. Shaftesbury had been for some time very careful never to open his mouth on politics out of the city of London and county of Middlesex, and during the Oxford Parliament had touched on no public topic except in the House of Lords. It was resolved at all hazards to bring him to trial; but this could only be done by an indictment to be found at the Old Bailey. There did North attend when the indictment was to be preferred, and, resolutely assist Lord Chief Justice Pemberton in perverting the law,[94] by examining the witnesses in open court, and by trying to intimidate and mislead the grand jury; but he was punished by being present at the shout, which lasted an hour, when “Ignoramus” was returned. He next zealously lent himself to the scheme of the court for upsetting the municipal privileges of the city of London, But the old sheriffs insisted on holding a common hall for the election of their successors, according to ancient usage, on Midsummer day; when Lord Chief Justice North had the extreme meanness, at the king’s request, to go into the city and take post in a house near Guildhall, belonging to Sir George Jeffreys, “who had no small share in the conduct of this affair, to the end that if any incident required immediate advice, or if the spirits of the lord mayor should droop, which in outward appearance were but faint, there might be a ready recourse.” It is true the opposite faction had the Lord Grey de Werke and other leaders from the west end of the town, to advise and countenance them; but this could be no excuse for This causing great consternation at Whitehall, a council was called, to which the lord mayor and aldermen were summoned. Lord Chief Justice North, by the king’s command, addressed them, saying, “that the proceedings of the sheriffs at the common hall after the adjournment were not only utterly null and void, but the persons were guilty of an audacious riot and contempt of lawful authority, for which by due course of law they would be severely punished; but in the mean time it was the lord mayor’s duty and his majesty’s pleasure that they should go back to the city and summon the common hall, and make election of sheriffs for the year ensuing.” The lord mayor, having been told that the courtiers would bamboozle him and leave him in the lurch, when North had concluded, said, “My lord, will your lordship be pleased to give me this under your hand?” The king and all the councillors were much tickled to see the wily chief justice thus nailed, “expecting some turn of wit to fetch himself off, and thinking to have sport in seeing how woodenly he would excuse himself.” But to their utter astonishment, for once in his life Francis North was bold and straightforward, and cheating them all, he answered, without any hesitation, “Yes, and you shall have it presently.” Then seizing a pen, he wrote, “I am of opinion that it is in the lord mayor’s power to call, adjourn, and dissolve the common hall at his pleasure, and that all acts done there, as of the common hall, during such adjournment, are mere nullities, and have no legal Accordingly, another common hall was called, at which it was pretended that Sir Dudley North and Rich were elected, and they were actually installed in the office of sheriff. By the contrivance of Lord Chief Justice North, the office of lord mayor for the ensuing year was likewise filled by a thorough passive-obedience tool of the court. Gould, the liberal candidate, had a majority of legal votes on the poll, but under a pretended scrutiny, Pritchard was declared duly elected, and Sir John More, the renegade mayor, willingly transferred to him the insignia of chief magistrate, so that the king had now the city authorities completely at his devotion. Shaftesbury fled to Holland; and it was for the court to determine when the blow should be struck against the popular leaders who remained. Such were the services of Lord Chief Justice North, which all plainly saw would ere long be rewarded by higher promotion. The health of Lord Nottingham, the chancellor, was rapidly declining, and the court had already designated his successor. Lord Craven, famous for wishing to appear intimate with rising men, in the circle at Whitehall, now seized Lord Chief Justice North by the arm and whispered in his ear; and the foreign ambassadors so distinctly saw the shadow of the coming event that they treated him with as great respect as if he had been prime minister, “and when any of them looked towards him and thought he perceived it, they very formally bowed.” We are told that in many things North acted as “co-chancellor” with Nottingham; and for the first time the office of chancellor seems to have been like that of sheriff of Middlesex, While the lord chancellor was languishing, the chief justice being at Windsor, the king plainly intimated to him that when the fatal event, which must be shortly looked for, had taken place, the great seal would be put into his hands. He modestly represented himself to his majesty as unfit for the place, and affected by all his art and skill to decline it. In truth, he really wished to convey to the king’s mind the impression that he did not desire it, although he had been working so foully for it—as he knew it would be pressed upon him, there being no competitor so knowing and so pliant, and he had an important stipulation to make for a pension before he would accept it. When he came back to London, and confidentially mentioned what had passed between him and the king, he pretended to be annoyed, and said “that if the seal were offered to him he was determined to refuse it;” but it is quite clear that he was highly gratified to see himself so near the great object of his ambition, and that his only anxiety now was, that he might drive a good bargain when he should consent to give up “the cushion of the Common Pleas.” Lord Nottingham having died about four o’clock in the afternoon of Monday, the 18th of December, 1682, the great seal was carried next morning from his house, in Great Queen Street, to the king at Windsor. The following day his majesty brought it with him to Whitehall, and in the evening sent for the lord chief justice of the Common Pleas, to offer it to him. When the new lord keeper came home at night from Whitehall to his house in Chancery Lane, bringing the great seal with him, and attended by the officers of the Court of Chancery, instead of appearing much gratified, as was expected by his brother and his friends, who were waiting to welcome him, he was in a great rage—disappointed that he had not been able to make a better bargain, and, perhaps, a little mortified that he had only the title of “lord keeper” instead of the more sounding one of “lord chancellor.” Recriminating on those with whom he had been so keenly acting the chapman, he exclaimed, “To be haggled with about a pension, as at the purchase of a horse or an ox! After I had declared that I would not accept without a pension, to think I was so frivolous as to insist and desist all in a moment! As if I were to be wheedled and charmed by their insignificant tropes! To think me worthy of so great a trust, and withal so little and mean as to endure such usage! It is disobliging, inconsistent, and insufferable. What have I done that may give them cause to think of me so poor a spirit as to be thus trifled On the first day of the following Hilary term he took his place in the Court of Chancery. By this time he was in possession of his predecessor’s house in Great Queen Street, Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and he had a grand procession from thence to Westminster Hall, attended by the Duke of Ormond, the Earls of Craven and Rochester, the great officers of state, and the judges. He took the oaths, the master of the rolls holding the book. He does not appear to have delivered any inaugural address. The attendant lords staid and heard a motion or two, and then departed, leaving the lord keeper in court. They might have been well amused if they had remained. For the crooked purposes of the government, with a view to the disfranchising of the city of London by the quo warranto defending against it, Pemberton[96] was this day to be removed from being chief justice of the King’s Bench to be chief justice of the Common Pleas, and Edmund Saunders was to be at once raised from wearing a stuff gown at the bar to be chief justice of the King’s Bench. This keen but unscrupulous lawyer was previously to be made a serjeant, that he might be qualified to be a judge, and, coming into the Court Parasites and preferment-hunters crowded the levee of the new lord keeper. He was immediately waited upon by the courtly Evelyn, who discovered in him a thousand good qualities.[97] In the midst of these blandishments he applied himself with laudable diligence to the discharge of his judicial duties. He declared that he was shocked by many abuses in the Court of Chancery, and he found fault with the manner in which his two predecessors, Bridgeman and Nottingham, had allowed the practice of the court to lead to delay and expense. North’s conduct as a law reformer was extremely characteristic. He talked much of issuing a new set of “rules and orders” to remedy all abuses, but he was afraid “that it would give so great alarm to the bar and officers, with the solicitors, as would make them confederate and demur, and, by making a tumult and disturbance, endeavor to hinder the I think we must say that his alleged merit as a chancery reformer consists chiefly in the profession of good intentions; that he allowed the practice of the court to remain pretty much as he found it; and that if he saw and approved what was right, he followed what was wrong—aggravating his errors by disregarding the strong dictates of his conscience. Nevertheless, he applied himself very assiduously to the business of his court, which, from his experience at the bar, and from his having often sat for his predecessor, was quite familiar to him; and he seems to have disposed of it satisfactorily. He was not led into temptation by having to decide in equity any political case; and no serious charge was preferred against him of bribery or undue influence. Till the meeting of Parliament in the reign of James, and the failure of his health, he prevented the accumulation of arrears; and, upon the whole, as an Equity judge, he is to be praised rather than censured. The ministers who now bore sway, and who were on several points opposed to each other, were Halifax, Sunderland, and Rochester. The Duke of York, restored to the office of lord high admiral and to the Privy Council, in direct violation of the “test act,” had so much influence, that it was said that “to spite those who wished to prevent him from reigning at the king’s death, he was permitted to reign during the king’s life.” The Duchess of Portsmouth was likewise at the head of a party at court, although Mrs. Gwin, her Protestant rival, did not interfere with politics. With none of these would the lord keeper combine. His policy was to study the peculiar humors of the king—to do whatever would be most agreeable personally to him—to pass for “the king’s friend”—and to be “solus cum solo.” Charles, although aware of his cunning and his selfishness, was well pleased with the slavish doctrines he laid down, and with the devoted zeal he expressed for the royal prerogative; and till Jeffrey’s superior vigor, dexterity, and power of pleasing gained the ascendancy, usually treated him with decent consideration. He never would give any opinion on foreign affairs, nor attend a committee of council summoned specially to consider them, professing himself, for want of a fit education and The first of these in which he had to display his powers, was the disfranchisement of the city of London. Saunders, counsel in the quo warranto, having been appointed chief justice, to decide in favor of the sufficiency of the pleadings which he himself had drawn, the opinion of the Court of King’s Bench had been pronounced for the crown, “that all the city charters were forfeited.” Formal judgment was not yet entered on the record, to give an opportunity to the mayor, aldermen and citizens, to make their submission and to accept terms which might henceforth annihilate their privileges and make them the slaves of the government. They accordingly did prepare a petition to the king, imploring his princely compassion and grace, which they presented to him at a council held at Windsor on the 18th of June, 1683. The petition being read, they were ordered to withdraw, and when they were again called in, the lord keeper thus addressed them, disclosing somewhat indiscreetly the real motives for the quo warranto: “My lord mayor, I am by the king’s command to tell you that he hath considered the humble petition of the city of London, where so many of the present magistrates and other eminent citizens are of undoubted loyalty and affection to his service; that for their sakes his majesty will show the city all the favor they can reasonably The citizens refused to comply with these terms, and judgment was entered up. Thus, on the most frivolous pretexts, and by a scandalous perversion of the forms of law, was the city of London robbed of the free institutions which it had enjoyed, and under which it had flourished for many ages. The proceeding was less appalling to the public than the trial and execution of eminent patriots, but was a more dangerous blow to civil liberty. London remained disfranchised, and governed by the agents of the crown, during the rest of this The lord keeper’s conduct in this affair gave such high satisfaction at court, that, as a reward for it, he was raised to the peerage by the title of Baron Guilford. His brother says that he did not seek the elevation from vanity, but that he might be protected against the attacks which might hereafter be made upon him in the House of Commons. He obtained it on the recommendation of the Duke of York, who overlooked his dislike of Popery in respect of his steady hatred to public liberty. To show his gratitude, the new peer directed similar proceedings to be commenced against many other corporations, which ended in the forfeiture or surrender of the charters of most of the towns in England in which the liberal party had enjoyed an ascendancy. Gilbert Burnet,[99] about this time appointed preacher at the rolls, thought he had secured a protector in the lord keeper; but as soon as this whig divine had incurred the displeasure of the court, his lordship wrote to the master of the rolls that the king considered the chapel of the rolls as one of his own chapels, and that Dr. Burnet must be dismissed as one disaffected to the government. In consequence, he was obliged to go beyond seas, and to remain in exile, till he returned with King William. Soon after followed the disgraceful trials for high treason, which arose out of the discovery of the rye-house plot. The It is edifying and consolatory to think that he was outdone by his own arts, and that the rest of his career was attended by almost constant mortification, humiliation, and wretchedness. Saunders enjoyed the office of chief justice of the king’s bench only for a few months, being carried off by an apoplexy soon after the decision of the great London quo warranto cause. An intrigue was immediately set on foot to procure the appointment for Jeffreys, who had more than ever recommended himself to the court by his zeal on the trial of Lord Russell, in which he had eclipsed the attorney and solicitor general; and he was anxiously wanted to preside at the trial of Sydney, against whom the case was known to be so slender, but who was particularly obnoxious on account of his late quarrel with the Duke of York, and his sworn enmity What was worse, the new lord chief justice was not only sworn a privy councillor, but, in a few weeks, was admitted into the cabinet, where he, from the first, set himself to oppose the opinions, and to discredit the reputation, of him who, he knew, had opposed his appointment, and whom (his ambition Jeffreys began with interfering very offensively in the appointment of puisne judges, which of right belonged to the lord keeper. At first he was contented with the reputation of power in this department. He next resolved to make a judge, by his own authority, of a man almost as worthless as himself. This was Sir Robert Wright, who had never had any law, who had spent his patrimony in debauchery, and who, being in great distress, had lately sworn a false affidavit to enable him to commit a fraud upon his own mortgagee.[101] Jeffreys was not satisfied with his triumph without proclaiming it to all Westminster Hall. “Being there that same morning, while the Court of Chancery was sitting, he beckoned to Wright to come to him, and giving him a slap on the shoulder, and whispering in his ear, he flung him off, holding out his arms towards the lord keeper. This was a public declaration that, in spite of that man above there, Wright should be a judge. His lordship saw all this as it was intended he should, and it caused some melancholy.” But he found it convenient to pocket the insult: he put the great seal to Wright’s patent, and assisted at the ceremony of his installation. There is no trace of the lord keeper’s speech on this occasion, so that we do not know in what terms he complimented the new judge on his profound skill in the law, his spotless integrity, and his universal fitness to adorn the judgment seat. But the most serious difference between them in Charles’s time was on the return of Jeffreys from the northern circuit in the autumn of 1684, when, backed by the Duke of York, he had a deliberate purpose of immediately grasping the great seal. At a cabinet council, held on a Sunday evening, he stood up, and addressing the king while he held in his hands the rolls of the recusants in the north of England—“Sir,” The lord keeper, not without reason, boasted of this as the most brilliant passage of his life. When he came home at night, he broke out in exclamations—“What can be their meaning? Are they all stark mad?” And before he went to bed, as a memorial of his exploit, he wrote in his By such an extraordinary exhibition of courage, to which he was driven by the instinct of self-preservation, he escaped the peril which Jeffreys had planned for him, and he retained the great seal till the king’s death. In the morning of Monday, the 2d of February, 1685, he was sent for to Whitehall, by a messenger announcing that his majesty had had an apoplectic seizure. According to the ancient custom and supposed law when the sovereign is dangerously distempered, the Privy Council was immediately assembled; and the lord keeper examined the king’s physicians.[106] “Their discourse ran upon indefinites—what they observed, their method intended, and success hoped. He said to them, that these matters were little satisfactory to the council, unless they would declare, in the main, what they judged of the king’s case; whether his majesty was like to recover or not? But they would never be brought to that; all lay in hopes.” With short intervals the council continued to sit day and night. After a time, the physicians came into the council chamber, smiling, and saying they had good news, for the The council was still sitting when the news was brought that Charles was no more. After a short interval, James, who, leaving the death-bed of his brother, had decently engaged in a devotional exercise in his own closet, entered the apartment in which the councillors were assembled, and all kneeling down, they saluted him as their sovereign. When he had seated himself in the chair of state, and delivered his declaration, which, with very gracious expressions, smacked of the arbitrary principles so soon acted upon, Lord Guilford surrendered the great seal into his hands, and again received it from him with the former title of lord keeper. James would, no doubt, have been much better pleased to have transferred it to Jeffreys; but it was his policy, at the commencement of his reign, to make no change in the administration, and he desired all present to retain the several charges which they held under his deceased brother, assuring them that he earnestly wished to imitate the good and gracious sovereign whose loss they deplored. The first question upon which James consulted the council was respecting the levying of the duties of customs and excise, which had been granted by Parliament only during the life of the late king. The lord keeper intimating a clear conviction that Parliament would continue the grant as from the demise of the crown, recommended a proclamation requiring that the duties should be collected and paid into the exchequer, and that the officers should keep the product separate from other revenues till the next session of Parliament, in order to be disposed of as his majesty and the two houses should think fit. But the lord chief justice represented this advice as low and trimming, and he moved that “his majesty should cause his royal proclamation to issue, commanding all officers to collect, and the subjects to pay, these duties for his majesty’s use, as part of the royal revenue.” The lord keeper ventured humbly to ask his majesty to consider whether such a proclamation would be for his service, as it might give a handle to his majesty’s enemies to say that his majesty, at the very entrance upon his government, levied money of the subject without the authority of Parliament. The chief justice’s advice was far more palatable. The proclamation which he recommended was therefore ordered to be drawn up, and was immediately issued. The lord keeper had the baseness to affix the great seal to this proclamation, thinking as he did of its expediency and legality. But rather than resign or be turned out of his office, he was ready to concur in any outrage on the constitution, or to submit to any personal indignity. As that day approached, the lord keeper began to write the speech which he expected to deliver in the presence of the king to the two houses on their assembling. He was much pleased with this performance, on which he had taken uncommon pains, and when finished, he read it to his brother and his officers, who highly applauded it. But what was his consternation when he was told that he was not to be allowed to open his mouth upon the occasion![107] Parliament meeting, the course was adopted which has been followed ever since. Instead of having on the first day of the session, before the choice of a speaker by the Commons, one speech from the king, and another from the lord chancellor or lord keeper, to explain the causes of the summons, the Commons being sent for by the black rod, the lord keeper merely desired them to retire to their own chamber and choose a speaker, and to present him at an hour which was named, for his majesty’s approbation. The speaker being chosen and approved of, and having demanded and obtained a recognition of the privileges of the Commons, on the following day the king himself made a speech from the throne, and immediately withdrew. But this speech was not in modern fashion settled at the cabinet; nor was it read the evening before at the Cockpit, or to the chief supporters of the government in both houses at the dinner-table of the two leaders respectively; nor was Yet he still was mean enough to cling to office, and to do what he could for a government impatient to get rid of him. He had been very active in the elections; and by his influence had procured the return of a good many zealous church-and-king members. “And to make the attendance easy to these gentlemen, whose concerns were in the country, he took divers of them to rack and manger in his family, where they were entertained while the Parliament sat.” But nothing which he could do would mitigate the hostility of those who had vowed his destruction. At the meeting of Parliament, Jeffreys was made a peer, that he might have the better opportunity to thwart and insult the lord keeper; although there had been no previous instance of raising a common-law judge to the peerage. There were several appeals from decrees of the lord keeper speedily brought to a hearing. “Jeffreys affected to let fly at them, to have it thought that he was fitter to be chancellor.” He attended, neglecting all other business; and during the argument, and in giving his opinion, took every opportunity of disparaging the lord keeper’s law, preparatory to moving reversals. He was particularly outrageous in the case of Howard v. The Duke of Norfolk, being emboldened to talk confidently on matters with which he was not much acquainted, by having to rest on the reputation of Lord Nottingham. That great equity lawyer, contrary to the opinion of the two chief justices and the chief baron, whom he had called in to There were few debates in the House of Lords during this short session; but, even in going through the common forms of the House, Jeffreys found opportunities publicly to testify his contempt for the lord keeper; and in the cabinet, in discussing the dispensation to be granted to Catholic officers to serve in the army, and other subjects, he constantly laid traps for him, with a view of either making him obnoxious to the king, or odious to the public—who considered him the author of every declaration or dispensation which passed the great seal. Sunderland and other members of the cabinet openly joined in this persecution, and “he was little less than derided by them. Being soon to be laid aside, he was not relied upon in any thing, but was truly a seal-keeper rather than a minister of state, and kept on for despatch of the formularies, rather than for advice or trust.” Why did he not resign? It is difficult to understand the reasoning of his brother, who thus accounts for his continuing to bear such insults:—“His lordship was so ill used at court by the Earl of Sunderland, Jeffreys, and their sub-sycophants, that I am persuaded if he had had less pride of heart, he had been tempted to have delivered up the seal in full health. But he cared not to gratify, by that, such disingenuous enemies. He cared not to humor these barkers, or to quit his place before he might do it with safety to his dignity. He intended to stay till the king would bear him no longer, and then make it his majesty’s own act to remove him.” He felt keenly a sense of the insignificance and disfavor Dreadfully dejected, he lost his appetite and his strength. He could not even get through the business of the court; and remanets multiplying upon him kept him awake at night, or haunted him in his sleep. He drooped so much, that for some time he seemed quite heart-broken. At last, he had an attack of fever, which confined him to his bed. The coronation was approaching, and it was important that he should sit in the “Court of Claims.” Having recovered a little by the use of Jesuits’ bark, he presided there, though still extremely weak; and he walked at the coronation “as a ghost with the visage of death upon him, such a sunk and spiritless countenance he had.” While he was in this wretched state, news arrived that the Duke of Monmouth had landed in the west of England and raised the standard of rebellion. The Parliament, having come to a number of loyal votes, having attainted the duke, and granted a supply, was adjourned, that the members might assist in preserving tranquillity in their several districts. The lord keeper talked of resigning, and wrote a letter to Here he languished while the battle of Sedgemoor was fought—Monmouth, after in vain trying to melt the heart of his obdurate uncle, was executed on Tower Hill under his parliamentary attainder, and the inhuman Jeffreys, armed with civil and military authority, set out on his celebrated “campaign.” Roger North would make us believe that the dying Guilford was horrified by the effusion of blood which was now incarnardining the western counties by command of the lord general chief justice, and that he actually interposed to stay it:—“Upon the news returned of his violent proceedings, his lordship saw the king would be a great sufferer thereby, and went directly to the king, and moved him to put a stop to the fury, which was in no respect for his service; but in many respects for the contrary. For though the executions were by law just, yet never were the deluded people all capitally punished; and it would be accounted a carnage and not law or justice; and thereupon orders went to mitigate the proceeding. I am sure of his lordship’s intercession to the king on this occasion, being told it at the very time by himself.” It is painful to doubt the supposed exertion of mercy and firmness by the lord keeper; but an attention to dates, of which this biographer is always so inconceivably negligent, shows the story to be impossible. Jeffreys did not open his campaign by the slaughter of the Lady Lisle, at Winchester, till the 27th of August, and he carried it on with He was buried in Wroxton Church, in a vault belonging to his wife’s family, the Earls of Down. “He was a crafty and designing man,” says Bishop Burnet. “He had no mind to part with the great seal, and yet he saw he could not hold it without an entire compliance with the pleasure of the court. Nothing but his successor made him be remembered with regret. He had not the virtues of his predecessor; but he had parts far beyond him. They were turned to craft; so that whereas the former (Lord Nottingham) seemed to mean well even when he did ill, this man was believed to mean ill even when he did well.” I accede to this character, with the exception of the estimate of North’s “parts,” which I think are greatly overrated. He was sharp and shrewd, but of no imagination, of no depth, of no grasp of intellect, any more than generosity of sentiment. Cunning, industry, and opportunity may make such a man at Guilford had as much law as he could contain, but he was incapable of taking an enlarged and commanding view of any subject. In equity, he did nothing to rear up the system of which the foundations had been so admirably laid by his predecessor. His industry was commendable; and I think he may be fairly acquitted of corruption, notwithstanding his indiscreet acceptance of a present of one thousand pounds from the six clerks, when they had a dispute with the sixty, on which he was to adjudicate. Where he was not under the apprehension of personal responsibility, there was nothing which he would not say or do to exalt the prerogative and please his patrons. I shall add only one instance. Sir Thomas Armstrong was outlawed for high treason while beyond the seas unless he surrendered within a year. Being sent over a prisoner from Holland within a year, he insisted that he was entitled to a writ of error to reverse the outlawry and to be admitted to make his defence; but the lord keeper refused him his writ of error, first, on the pretence that there was no fiat for it by the attorney general, and then, that he had no right to reverse his outlawry, as he was present by compulsion. Thus the unhappy victim was sent to instant execution without trial. So zealous a conservative was Guilford, that “he thought the taking away of the tenures” (i. e. the abolition of wardship and the other oppressive feudal burdens introduced at the conquest) “a desperate wound to the liberties of the people.” The court wags made great sport of him, the Earl of Sunderland taking the lead, and giving out the signal, while To try how far his compliance with the humors of the court would go, they next persuaded his own brother-in-law (that he might not suspect the hoax) to wait upon him, and in strict confidence, and with great seriousness, to advise him to keep a mistress, “otherwise he would lose all his interest with the king; for it was well understood that he was ill looked upon for want of doing so, because he seemed continually to reprehend them by not falling in with the general custom; and the messenger added, that if his lordship pleased Although he never aimed at oratory, it is said that he meditated a “history of his own times.” He might have transmitted to us many curious anecdotes, but the performance must have been without literary merit; for some of his notes which he had written as materials are in the most wretched style, and show that he was unacquainted with the first principles of English composition, and even with the common rules of grammar. He did publish two or three short tracts “on music” and other subjects, which were soon forgotten. He was well versed in music, conversed with Sir Peter Lely about painting, speculated with natural philosophers on the use of the bladder of fishes, and learned several of the continental languages; but he seems never to have looked into a classical writer after he left college, and to have had the same taste for the belles lettres as his brother Roger, who, placing them all in the same category, talks with equal contempt of “departed quacks, poets, and almanack makers.” Although his two immediate predecessors were libelled and lauded by popular verses in the mouths of every one, I can find no allusion in any fine writer either of the court or country party to North; and it may be doubtful whether he knew anything of the works of Butler, of Dryden, of Waller, or of Cowley, beyond the snatches of them he may have heard repeated in the merry circle at Whitehall. He lived very hospitably, receiving those who retailed the In the vacations, when he could be spared from London, he retired to his seat at Wroxton. For some years he likewise rented a villa at Hammersmith, but this he gave up soon after his wife’s death. He had the misfortune to lose her after they had been married only a few years. She seems to have been a very amiable person. She found out when her husband had any trouble upon his spirits, and she would say, “Come, Sir Francis, (as she always styled him,) you shall not think; we must talk and be merry, and you shall not look on the fire as you do. I know something troubles you; and I will not have it so.” He would never marry again, which in his last illness he repented, for “he fancied that in the night human heat was friendly.” He was extremely amiable in all the relations of domestic life. Nothing can be more touching than the account we have of the warm and steady affection subsisting between him and his brother, who survived to be his biographer. The lord keeper was a little but handsome man, and is said to have had “an ingenuous aspect.” When we estimate what the lord keeper achieved, we should bear in mind that he died at forty-eight, an age considerably more advanced than that reached by his immediate successor; yet under that at which other lord chancellors and lord keepers began to look for promotion. He was in truth solicitor general at thirty-four, attorney general at thirty-seven, chief justice of the Common Pleas at thirty-eight, and lord keeper and a peer at forty-five. It is probably well for his memory that his career was not prolonged. He might have made a respectable judge when the constitution was settled; but he was wholly unfit for the times in which he lived. I ought not to conclude this memoir without acknowledging my obligations to “Roger North’s Life of the Lord Keeper;” which, like “Boswell’s Life of Johnson,” interests us highly, without giving us a very exalted notion of the author. Notwithstanding its extravagant praise of the hero of the tale, its inaccuracies, and its want of method, it is a most valuable piece of biography, and with Roger’s lives of his brothers “Dudley and John,” and his “Examen,” ought to be studied by every one who wishes to understand the history and the manners of the reign of Charles II. |
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