the reign of James I., was not a member of the Ancient and Honourable
Society of Gray's Inn, yet, as his portrait hangs in the Great Hall,
and as he occupied himself much in the affairs of this Inn of Court, a
few words respecting this eminent lawyer may not be misplaced here.
There has probably never been a more consummate master of his
profession than Sir Edward Coke. His interest in it amounted to
enthusiasm. He loved to grapple with every legal difficulty, and
brought to bear upon all its intricate technicalities a dispassionate
calmness that unfortunately failed him in the ordinary affairs of life.
For this reason he was even a greater man during the periods of his
disgrace than when most triumphant.
During these seasons of enforced retirement he could devote himself to
a subject that he loved, and with which he was thoroughly conversant,
whereas the too great energy of his character, whilst in the enjoyment
of successful power, led to his giving way to intemperate violence both
of expression and action.
Like most distinguished lawyers, success came to him early in life. One
of his first cases was a remarkable one, and brought him much credit.
Mr. Edward Denny was Vicar of Northlinham in Norfolk, and the then
Lord Cromwell, who lived in the neighbourhood, procured two persons to
preach several sermons in Mr. Denny's church.
Both these persons took the opportunity thus afforded them of
inveighing against the Book of Common Prayer, styling it superstitious
and impious.
For this reason, the Vicar, having learnt they had no license, when one
of them came next to preach would have prevented him, but the man being
protected by Lord Cromwell insisted on preaching, and did preach.
This proceeding caused warm words to pass between Lord Cromwell and the
Vicar, the former saying:
"Thou art a false varlet, and I like not of thee."
To which the latter replied:
"It is no marvel that you like not of me, as you like those others"
(meaning the preachers) "that maintain sedition against the Queen's
proceedings."
Upon this Lord Cromwell brought an action against the Vicar, _de
scandalis magnatum_. The defendant justified, thereupon the plaintiff
demurred, and the bar was held insufficient; but upon a motion in
arrest of judgment, that the declaration was insufficient, the Court
gave judgment for the defendant.
Lord Cromwell then brought another action, and so the matter went on
for years until Coke became engaged in the case, and he so skilfully
seized the opportunity of managing and reporting it that his name was
at once brought favourably before the public.
His marriage with Bridgett, daughter and co-heiress of John Paxton,
Esq., a lady, with whom he had £35,000, and who was allied to some
of the most powerful families in the kingdom, doubtless aided him in
his career, although in after life he was wont to boast that he had
triumphed neither by "pen nor purse," signifying thereby that he had
never craved any man's help, nor had he ever opened his purse to buy
any place.
His perfect knowledge of the laws of England, and his wonderful memory
in recalling every technical circumstance bearing on or connected with
those laws, was something marvellous. For this reason his judgments on
all legal points have ever been held to be of exceeding value.
Unhappily in criminal trials his warmth of temper and his violence of
language tended much to injure his reputation and to lessen him in
the opinion of the world. Still, in spite of these great defects, his
unequalled talents forced men to yield to his judgment, and however
much they might condemn him they bowed to his will.
A notable instance of this occurred during the famous trial of Sir
Walter Raleigh.
Sir Edward Coke, who was then Attorney-General, conducted the case on
behalf of the Crown, and expressed himself with such energy against the
prisoner, that Lord Cecil at length interfered and desired him to be
more patient.
Much offended, Coke at once sat down, and preserved an angry silence.
At length the Commissioners were compelled to entreat him to continue
his address. For some time he refused; then suddenly rising, with a
power and skill that electrified all present, he recapitulated the
charges. So powerful were his words, so lucid were his arguments, that
it was evident from that moment that the prisoner's doom was sealed.
The scene that day in the Court at Winchester, where the trial took
place, must have been alike impressive and sorrowful.
The handsome, gallant Sir Walter Raleigh, the quondam favourite of the
Queen, for years the popular hero of the nation, now worn and bent by
age and many troubles, is standing at the bar, to be tried for his
life, accused of treason against his Sovereign and against his country.
Brave he has ever been, brave he is now, and the noble face, though
pale and haggard, is stern and composed. Unmoved in look or action, he
listens attentively to the words of one who is urging the Judges, with
all the might of burning eloquence, to pronounce him worthy of death.
Perchance for one moment a gleam of hope may have entered the
prisoner's breast when he heard Lord Cecil speak, but if so, it must
have been speedily dispelled when the Attorney-General addressed the
Court.
Spare in form, exquisitely neat in dress, passionate in action and
emphasis, the fiery and searching eye of the great lawyer seems to scan
alike the thoughts as well as the faces of those on whom he looks. And
his voice, deep yet penetrating, has a ring that stirs men's hearts,
and brings conviction in its very accents.
With terrible minuteness, and with crushing legal skill, he states
every circumstance that can tell against the accused, and each
powerfully-worded sentence that fell from the lips of the Counsel for
the Crown must, to the friends of the unhappy man, have been as another
nail driven into the coffin that awaited him.
Long ere that famous speech was ended, hope and suspense must have been
over for the prisoner. The evidence against him had been slender, but
Coke's eloquence prevailed. Sir Walter was found guilty, and condemned
to death.
For a month he lay in prison, daily expecting his execution. Then he
was reprieved, and sent to the Tower, where he remained a prisoner for
sixteen long years.
After his release, he organised an expedition to Guiana, but, failing
in this, he returned to England, where he was soon after seized,
imprisoned, and beheaded, not for any fresh crime or misdemeanour, but
solely on the strength of his former trial and condemnation nineteen
years previously. He was executed in Old Palace Yard, 1618, and died,
as he had lived, a brave and resolute man.
Coke's speech on this occasion, and also another made at the trial of
Sir Everard Digby, are masterpieces of skill and intelligence; but,
although such brilliant displays of eloquence and learning increased
his reputation as a lawyer, or rather as an orator, it was felt by the
world in general that he had permitted himself a license of expression
not seemly in one who held so high and responsible a position.
These speeches, nevertheless, led to his promotion, for soon afterwards
he was appointed Chief Justice of the Common Pleas.
This place fulfilled all his ambition, and here he would have willingly
remained, but his bitter tongue, his caustic remarks, his intolerance
of the least opposition, made him many enemies, many detractors.
His foes calculated that were he placed in a position of greater power,
and therefore of greater prominence, his many faults of temper would,
notwithstanding his profound legal knowledge, speedily lead to his
downfall.
They suggested, therefore, that his talents merited a higher post, and
after a time they succeeded in having him raised to the more elevated,
but, in those days, perilous position of Chief Justice of the King's
Bench, or as he styled himself, Chief Justice of England.
They calculated, and the result showed they were correct, that
on account of the class of cases ordinarily brought within the
jurisdiction of the King's Bench, the Chief Justice would ere long find
himself at antagonism with the Court.
The annals of the Law Courts at this period of English history are
terrible to read. It is frightful to see on what slight grounds men
were accused, tried, convicted, and executed for treason.
Verily, in those days our laws appeared to have been written in blood;
but, notwithstanding their severity, it was for having shown too great
_leniency_ in an affair that occurred about two years after he was made
Chief Justice that Sir Edward lost the King's favour.
This extraordinary and dreadful business was the discovery that Sir
Thomas Overbury had been murdered in the Tower, and as light was
gradually thrown on this dark matter, it became more and more evident
that great and powerful personages were deeply implicated, not only
in the foul murder, but also in other crimes of the most heinous and
disgraceful description.
In tracing and detecting the secrets of this black business, Lord Chief
Justice Coke showed so much zeal and diligence that he succeeded in
having apprehended and brought to justice some of the (apparently)
principal culprits, in spite, not only of the attempts that were
first made to enable them to escape, but of the influence that was
afterwards employed to stay their execution.
Richard Weston, who had been Overbury's keeper in the Tower, was early
brought to trial. At first he seemed resolved to be silent on every
subject, induced thereto, it is said, by an immense bribe from the Earl
of Somerset, but at length he was prevailed on to plead.
Poor wretch, the "persuasions" to which he yielded were the thumbscrew
and the rack, but no sooner did he plead than he was speedily convicted
and executed. Even at the foot of the gallows the miserable creature
was not left in peace. Lord Clare, Sir John Wentworth, and Mr. Lumsden
(friends of Somerset) attended him to the scaffold, and vehemently
urged him to declare, in these his last moments, that a conspiracy had
been concocted against Somerset.
So evident was it that Overbury's murder concealed even darker secrets,
and that these secrets implicated powerful and therefore formidable
personages, that Sir Edward, with his keen legal foresight, early
foresaw peril. So imminent, indeed, did he consider the danger, that
he went to the King at Royston to beg His Majesty would appoint a
commission to assist him during the necessary investigations, and thus
in some degree enable him to share the onus with others.
It has been hinted by some historians that the King knew more about
this hateful matter than he cared to acknowledge.
James I. was a shrewd and prudent man; he was timid also, and ever
shrank from allowing his name to be involved in any way with affairs
that would be distasteful to, or unpopular amongst, his newly-acquired
people. His shrewdness and his fears, however, led in several instances
to his acting in both a cowardly and a treacherous manner.
In this case, whatever may have been the knowledge the King possessed,
he skilfully concealed his suspicions from the chief person implicated.
When informed of Overbury's murder, without a moment's delay he
despatched a messenger to the Chief Justice, desiring him to arrest
Lord Somerset.
Sir Edward Coke at that time lived in the Temple, and so methodically
did he measure out his time, that every hour had its appointed usage.
One of his rules was to go to bed at nine of the clock, and to rise at
three in the morning.
The Royal messenger arrived at the Temple about 1 a.m., and at once
proceeded to Sir Edward's lodging. Sir Edward's son was there, and also
some friends, but the Chief Justice was in bed.
Mr. Coke therefore received the messenger, who said:
"I come, sir, from His Majesty the King, and must have instant speech
with your father."
"Though you come from the King," said Mr. Coke, "you cannot and shall
not see my father, for if he be disturbed in his sleep he will not
be fit for any business; but if you will do as we do, you shall be
welcome. In two hours my father will rise, and you can then do as you
please."
To this proposal the messenger was compelled to assent, so he waited.
At three o'clock, Sir Edward rang a little bell to give notice to his
servant to come to him.
The Royal messenger then entered, and gave the King's letter to
the Chief Justice, who at once made out the warrant for Somerset's
apprehension.
The messenger went post-haste back to Royston with the warrant, and on
being introduced into the Royal presence, found the King sitting with
his arm round the favourite's neck.
When the officer with the fatal document entered the room, James was
saying to the man whom he himself was causing to be arrested on a
charge of murder: "When shall I see thee again?" the favourite being
on the eve of his departure for London.
Somerset, when arrested by Sir Edward's warrant, exclaimed indignantly
at the affront thus offered to a peer of the realm, even in the
presence of the King's Majesty. In his anger he appealed to James.
"Nay, man," said the King, "if Coke sends for _me_, I must go."
No sooner, however, was Somerset out of the room, than his wily master
added:
"Now the de'il go with thee, man, for I will never see thy face any
more."
It is difficult to understand what was really the King's belief, or
what were really the King's motives, on this occasion.
To some persons he asserted that he did not believe Somerset had
anything to do with the actual murder. Yet it was he who caused his
favourite to be arrested; and when that arrest had been made and the
Chief Justice had arrived at Royston, the King spoke with exceeding
angry energy, charging Sir Edward to prosecute the affair with the
utmost diligence.
He was to search into the very bottom of the conspiracy, and to spare
no man, however great he might be; the King concluding his adjuration
thus:
"God's curse be upon you and yours if _you_ spare any of them, and
God's curse be upon _me_ and mine, if _I_ spare any one of them."
Not only the Earl of Somerset, but his wife, the young and beautiful
Countess of Somerset, was also arrested as being implicated in the
crime; and whilst their trials were in course of preparation, many
other persons of inferior rank were tried, condemned, and executed.
On the 7th November, Mrs. Anne Turner, who had been about Lady Somerset
from her childhood, was tried, convicted, and hanged.
On the 16th of the same month, Sir George Ellways, Lieutenant of the
Tower, was also convicted, and was hanged on Tower Hill on the 20th.
A week later, namely, on the 27th, James Franklin was tried, convicted,
and, a few days afterwards, hanged.
It might have been supposed that so many trials and executions showed
no want of zeal on the part of the Chief Justice and the other
Commissioners. Yet notwithstanding so sanguinary a list, Sir Edward
fell into disfavour for not hunting down and giving over to the gibbet
more of these miserable victims--victims who in all probability had
been but the creatures and tools of those who were far more deeply
implicated, and far more deeply culpable.
It has been supposed that the friends of Somerset trusted that the
nation would at length weary of so much bloodshed, and that time and
political events would cause the recollection of one black crime to
fade away.
At any rate, the delays which were for ever arising before Lord and
Lady Somerset could be brought to trial, were mainly attributed to the
unwillingness of many great personages (if not actually the Court) to
have certain secret transactions disclosed.
At length, however, the trial took place, Lord Chancellor Ellesmere
sitting as High Steward.
The King's instructions were produced to the Commissioners, by which
they were directed to try, first:
"Whether there were good grounds to believe the Lord and Lady guilty,
and if not, they were then to inquire after the authors of the
conspiracy."
The same instructions were afterwards produced to the Lords, both as
evidence of the King's care and impartiality, and also as proof of the
Commissioners' diligence in this business.
Lady Somerset, who was tried first, gave her judges but little trouble.
Great as had been her position, brilliant as were her surroundings, to
this young and beautiful, but most erring and passionate woman, life
had early lost its charms. She was sated both with its pleasures and
its crimes, and when placed on her trial at once pleaded guilty.
The next day, May 25th, her husband, Lord Somerset, was placed at the
bar, and after a trial that lasted twelve hours, his peers pronounced
the verdict of guilty.
The Lord Chief Justice considered himself entitled to, and, indeed,
gained much credit from the nation generally, for the zeal and
acuteness he had displayed throughout the whole progress of this
terrible and mysterious affair; but though the King had expressed
himself with such vehemence when commanding the matter should be
thoroughly sifted, from the period of this trial Sir Edward fell into
disfavour, both with His Majesty and with all the Royal favourites.
From this moment they, one after another, endeavoured to accomplish his
ruin. They seized every opportunity of misrepresenting his conduct to
the King, and as, unfortunately for the Chief Justice, serious disputes
had arisen both in the Court of Chancery and in the Court of King's
Bench, the proceedings of Coke were impugned on all sides.
His arrogant temper, his haughty manner of speech, the intolerance he
displayed to all who might presume to differ from him, made him many
personal enemies, and created around him a very army of foes.
The very fact, also, of his being so able a lawyer, so consummate a
master of his profession, did but increase the rancour of those whom he
had so haughtily rebuffed.
In all such encounters he almost invariably proved he was right both
in law and in fact, and then the bitter words of his scorn stung the
vanquished like a whip of scorpions.
There were very few persons, therefore, who would not rejoice in
his humiliation and his fall; but amongst his many opponents, the
most inveterate, the most powerful, and the most rancorous, was Lord
Villiers, afterwards Duke of Buckingham.
Sir Edward had opposed with no small decision some matter that
concerned the favourite's imperious will and pleasure, and Villiers
exerted to the utmost his powerful influence to ruin the Chief Justice.
These intrigues resulted in Coke's being suspended from his office on
June 30th, 1616. Sir Randolph Carew was commissioned to go Circuit, and
in the following November, Sir Henry Mountague received the appointment
of Lord Chief Justice.
It was during this enforced retirement from Court and public life,
that Sir Edward Coke's higher qualities exhibited themselves in their
most favourable light, and he showed the world with what calmness and
courage he could support adversity.
The dignity that his vehemence had so often endangered during the days
of his prosperity, now in the hours of adversity never failed him; and
however bitter and undeserved the attacks made upon him, he either
passed them over without notice, or replied to them in words of calm
moderation.
His many legal works, his many letters to friends at this period,
indicate with what resignation, nay, even with what content, he bore
the loss of the power that had been so dear to him. Both his actions
and his words testify how cheerfully he contemplated the end of all his
ambitious projects, and looked forward to a life of complete retirement.
But so admirable a lawyer, so able a judge, was not destined to be
long unemployed.
After his disgrace, men of far inferior talent had been placed in high
stations; but ere much time had elapsed it soon became evident that the
new Ministers and judges were unfit for the places to which they had
been appointed.
When the ship is in danger or in a difficult position, the best pilot,
however disagreeable he may be, must be called to the helm; and thus
even those who had been most active in bringing about Sir Edward's
fall, found it to their own interest to smooth the way towards his
restoration to the King's favour.
For some time there had been serious differences amongst the Ministers,
and at length the quarrel between the Lord Keeper Bacon and Mr.
Secretary Winwood rose to such a pitch that they refused to sit in
Council together.
It was at this juncture that the aid of so talented a man as the late
Chief Justice was imperatively needed.
Unhappily, Coke was not content to let matters take their course,
and to remain quietly on the pedestal he had so deservedly gained
for himself, namely, to rest on his great reputation of being the
soundest and most skilful lawyer in the United Kingdom. He thought to
strengthen his position by an alliance with the family of the still
powerful favourite, the Earl, afterwards the Duke of Buckingham, the
famous "Steenie." For this purpose he negotiated a marriage between
his youngest daughter by his second wife, Lady Hatton, and Sir John
Villiers, the Earl's eldest brother.
Lady Hatton, a proud, violent woman, who was incessantly insulting and
quarrelling with her husband, professed the greatest indignation that
their daughter should be disposed of in marriage without her (Lady
Hatton's) will and pleasure having been consulted in the matter. She
forthwith, therefore, carried off the young lady, and shut her up in
Sir Edmund Withipole's house, near Oatlands.
Sir Edward Coke, highly incensed that his authority should be thus
set at naught, wrote to Lord Buckingham, requesting him to procure
immediately, from the Privy Council, a warrant that would enable him to
regain possession of his daughter. Unfortunately, before the warrant
could be conveyed to him, he had learnt where Miss Coke was, and, with
his usual impetuosity, without waiting for legal powers, he and his
sons proceeded to Sir Edmund Withipole's house and took the young lady
away from thence by force.
Upon this imprudent action, Lady Hatton, who, by her letters, appears
to have been beside herself, so frenzied was she by rage, not only
appealed to the Privy Council, but, by her personal entreaties, gained
over the Lord Keeper Bacon to her side, he, probably, being nothing
loth to have again an opportunity of attacking his old enemy.
Buckingham, however, was not a man to brook contradiction, and
both he and his mother, Lady Compton, treated the Lord Keeper with
extraordinary rudeness. Bitterly angry, the latter appealed to the Star
Chamber, and also filed an information against Sir Edward Coke.
Thus this foolish marriage became a State business, and for many months
the war of words and of law processes raged with exceeding fury. As
might have been expected, the favourite eventually had his way, and,
somehow or other, the two ladies who had been foremost in the fight.
Lady Hatton and Lady Compton, came at length to a good understanding.
The marriage, therefore, was arranged. Sir Edward Coke was admitted to
the presence of the King, and made a member of the Privy Council.
On the Michaelmas Day following, Sir John Villiers was married to Mrs.
Frances Coke at Hampton Court, with all imaginable splendour.
Sir Edward's plans had succeeded. He had been restored to the King's
favour, he had married his daughter to the brother of the Royal
favourite; but he paid dearly for these triumphs. Not only had he to
bestow on his daughter the sum of £10,000, to be paid down in money on
the day of the marriage, but he had to assure to Sir John Villiers a
rent charge of 2,000 marks per annum during his (Sir Edward's) life,
and another one of £900 during Lady Hatton's life.
He engaged, also, to settle the manor of Stoke, in Buckinghamshire, a
property he had destined for his other two daughters, on Sir John and
Lady Villiers and their heirs.
Lady Hatton also had from her private fortune, which was considerable,
to make large settlements upon her daughter.
Lady Hatton, who, by her own showing, must have been an intolerable
woman, self-willed, passionate, and overbearing, had by this time
become reconciled to her son-in-law and his friends; but she still
pursued her quarrel with her husband with unrelenting acrimony.
Many letters still in existence testify to the heat and resentment of
both parties. At length the dispute became quite a public matter, many
persons of consideration interesting themselves keenly on one side or
the other.