HISTORIC S 



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THERE are *om& historical events of which we gladly cherish 

 tho memory, bccanao f>f tho Instro they spread around our 

 Matioiml character, or because of the intrinsic worth of the 

 f!vent themselves. Such are the great victories of the nation, 

 nbroad and at home, the enforcers of our foreign and colonial 

 policy against external foes, tho winners of steps onward in the 

 path of constitutional freedom, in opposition to the tactics of 

 absolutists and tyrants. Other events there are over which we 

 would gladly draw a veil, if it were permitted us to do so, events 

 HO sad and disgraceful, not only to our national character, but 

 to humanity itself, that we would fain not look at them. But 

 \va cannot afford to lose sight of them, much as the contem- 

 plation may disgust us; we are bound in our own interests, and 

 in tho interests of those who are to come after us, not to "let 

 oblivion damn" the record in which these ugly histories are 

 written. There is, seemingly, a natural tendency in politics to 

 ropeat themselves, and in principles to re-assert themselves : and 

 if, according to this rule, we may look for a re-appearance of 

 past glories, so we must look also for a fresh advent of past 

 Mvils- They may not come in the same shape indeed, the 

 chances are strongly against their doing so but come they 

 will, and it behoves us to watch very diligently against the evils 

 lest they take us by surprise, and furnish for posterity a chapter 

 of horrors, a counterpart of those old chapters which we are 

 bound freshly to remember. To use the emphatic language of 

 Lord Erskine, with reference to some irregular proceedings in 

 the law courts, presided over by the subject of this sketch 

 (Judge Jeffreys), which were taken off the file and burnt, "to 

 the intent that the same might no longer be visible to after 

 agea:" "It was a sin against posterity; it was a treason 

 against society; for, instead of being burnt, they should have 

 been directed to be blazoned in large letters upon the walls of 

 our courts of justice, that, like the characters deciphered by the 

 prophet of God to tho Eastern tyrant, they might enlarge and 

 blacken in your sight to terrify you from acts of injustice." 



It is a sketch of one of those subjects which, for the above 

 reason, should never bo forgotten, that it is proposed now to 

 bring under the notice of our readers. 



The Duke of Monmouth, the illegitimate son of Charles II. 

 !ind Lucy "Waters, having been engaged in many intrigues to 

 procure his own elevation to the throne instead of the Duke of 

 York (James II.), had got into trouble during his father's life- 

 time; but when Charles died in 1685, and his brother, James II., 

 succeeded him, tho Duke of Monmouth renewed more energeti- 

 cally his intrigues, and succeeded in fastening to his cause a 

 very considerable following. There were said to exist proofs of 

 Charles II. having been married to Lucy Waters, and though 

 they did not actually exist, many believed they did, and on that 

 rroUnd alone, apart from their dislike to James, regarded him as 

 their lawful king. Finding his party, as he fancied, sufficiently 

 strong 1 , he determined, in the spring of 1685, a few weeks after 

 the king's accession, to try his hand at an invasion. With a 

 slender force he landed on the llth of June, at Lyme. in Dorset- 

 shire, where many of the country people joined him. Shortly 

 afterwards he proclaimed himself king, denounced James as a 

 usurpei-, and all his adherents as traitors. In a lengthy decla- 

 ration, Monmouth asserted the reasons why James ought to be 

 deposed, and stated the measures which he intended to introduce 

 if the people would put him in possession of the throne. 



Four days after landing he left Lyme at the head of over 

 3.000 men, raw levies for tho most part, badly officered, and 

 without the countenance or help of any of the country gentlemen. 

 At Taunton, where the Duke was received with open arms, some 

 r.ddition was made to the number, but hardly to the quality of 

 l.'s army. At Bridport, where a detachment of his men first 

 camo iu contact with tho royal forces, ho experienced a check, 

 and nowhere did he gain anything by force of arms. Wells, 

 Bridge-water, and Exeter received him; but Bath and Bristol 

 shut their gates on him, and refused him supplies. At Sedge- 

 moor, about five miles to tho south-east of Bridgewater, in 

 Somersetshire, he was compelled to fight on the 6th of July, by 

 the king's general, Lord Fevershum ; and after a combat of some 

 hours' duration, in which the royal troops lost about 300 men, 

 and the rebels 800, besides three times that number of prisoners, 

 be was completely cbfraicd, Tho dukv. with two companions, 



THK POPULAR KDCCATOP, 



fled before il - done, nn<l gallops] oft' in hop? i.f ulti- 



mately reaching the Hu.inpshi: it after ^kulkm: 



for several day* in various diigui 

 Monmouth, who had been already condemned by A--; 

 ment, was brought to London and . 



Perhaps it cannot be said, on a c-ulm ivvii.".r <* the facts, that 

 the Duko of Monmouth received anyf.hin;j but. < 

 He was "the head and front of tho person 



it might be said that the law fairly claimed its due. Not much 

 could have been said on tho score of strict justice if tho other 

 leaders in the rebellion had shared hi.-i fate, but tho proceedings 

 of Judge Jeffreys on the circuit, well called the "Bloody 

 Assize," were of such a kind as to make one doubt whether 

 even the guilty were not unwarrantably condemned. Imme- 

 diately after the battle of Sedgemoor thirteen of the prisoners 

 were hanged without trial, by order of Colonel Kirk, a brutal 

 commander of brutal soldiers, who were called by the satirical 

 nickname of "Kirk's Lambs." Further military executions 

 would, no doubt, have taken place; but the king decided to 

 have the rebels tried according to the law of the land, a 

 decision which would have been recorded to his advantage, had 

 he not chosen the man he did choose to put the law in motion. 



The prisons in the western counties, except Cornwall, which 

 had remained loyal, were crowded with prisoners. On account 

 of the disturbed state of the country there had not been any 

 summer assize on the western circuit, so that the ordinary 

 prisoners remained for trial, but the people who crowded the 

 gaols to overflowing were the captives taken at and after Sedge- 

 moor. For the trial of these a special commission was issued, 

 with Jeffreys, Lord Chief Justice of England, at its head. A 

 second commission was given to Jeffreys alone, appointing him 

 temporarily commander-in-chief of the troops in the west, with 

 the rank of lieutenant-general. 



Now Jeffreys was a man who had risen at the bar by brute 

 force exhibited through his mind. Was there any dirty, disgust- 

 ing case to be taken in hand, any utter scoundrel to be defended, 

 any honest man to be hunted down, Jeffreys was the counsel 

 employed. His knowledge of law was small, but the amount of 

 his brazen hardihood was enormous, and by dint of this ques- 

 tionable quality he acquired a large practice of the baser sort. 

 When the Crown, during the life of Charles II., wanted such 

 talents for the purpose of prosecuting its enemies to death, 

 Jeffreys came forthwith to the front. He was rapidly promoted 

 to the highest official dignity at the bar, and when Lord William 

 Russell and Colonel Algernon Sydney were to be tried for com- 

 plicity in the Eye House Plot a plot to waylay and assassinate 

 the king and Duke of York on their return from Newmarket 

 with which neither of the accused had any real connection, it 

 was recognised as a necessity that Jeffreys should be promoted 

 to the office of their judge. The selection was thoroughly justi- 

 fied by the result. In defiance of the rules of evidence, even 

 such as they were in those days, with brutal browbeating and 

 cross-examining of witnesses from the bench, the prisoners all 

 the while being undefended by counsel, Jeffreys, the judge, 

 helped the Crown lawyers to procure a verdict of guilty; and 

 having succeeded, he had the indecency to mock the prisonoi-s 

 after having sentenced them to death. 



The public of that day, not over-squeamish, were scandalised 

 at his proceedings, and many about the Court made no secret of 

 their disgust for him ; but the man was necessary to such a 

 government as then existed, and the king distinguished him 

 with favour. When James II. succeeded his brother, the chief 

 justice found favour in the sight of the new king, to whom ho 

 was as necessary as he had been to Charles. When Monmonui'a 

 rebellion had filled tho West-nountiy gaols with prisoners, there 

 was no fitter man than Jeffreys to clear them in the only waj 

 the Crown meant thorn to be cleared. 



With an escort of soldiers Jeffreys opened his commission at 

 Winchester, when tho only trial connected with Monmouth's 

 rebellion wan that of Alice, Lady Lisle, the widow of one of the 

 judges of Charles I. This lady had given shelter to two refu^o^s 

 from the rebel army after the battle of Sedgemoor, and had denied 

 them, when Colonel Ponruddock. one of the king's officers, came 

 to search her house. The men were found concealed on the 

 premises (tho event furnishes a subject for one of tho beautiful 

 frescoes on tho walls of the entrance to the House of Commons).- 

 phe was arrested for having harboured known traitors, and was 

 indicted aa a participator in thoir guilt. Hftr case waft, that & 



