The ambitious young lawyer
George Jeffreys’ career in the House of Lords was short, constrained both by the prolonged absence of a Parliament and by his own premature death. He was nevertheless an important political figure; the focus of this biography is therefore on how he came to be a peer rather than what he did after his elevation. He came from a well-established if minor gentry family that claimed to have been settled in north Wales since before the Saxon conquest; they had certainly lived at Acton Park near Wrexham since at least the mid-sixteenth century. Jeffreys’ grandfather had been a Welsh judge under James I; his father and nephew both served as high sheriffs of Denbighshire. Jeffreys’ father had suffered financially for his royalism in the civil wars and had a large family to support: seven of his eight children survived to adulthood. Since John, the eldest son, was to inherit the family lands, the younger sons were equipped to enter the professions. George and Edward Jeffreys both trained as lawyers; another brother, Thomas, became a successful merchant; the remaining brothers, William and James, entered the Church.
His enemies and his later detractors have tended to cast doubt on George Jeffreys’ professional competence. Charles Hatton famously damned him as having ‘in great perfection, the three chief qualifications of a lawyer, boldness, boldness, boldness’. There seems little doubt that he was an extremely promising student who attracted favourable attention very early in his career. Yet he does not seem to have built up his reputation or his practice in conventional ways. His practice was concentrated in the London area and on criminal rather than the more prestigious private (or, as we would now term them, civil) cases. The most important factor in his meteoric rise seems to have been his acquisition of influential connections in the City of London. His point of entry into City society appears to have been through his fellow Welshman Alderman John Jeffreys, with whom he was on very affectionate terms, although, despite their common surname, the two men were not related. Alderman Jeffreys stood godfather to George Jeffreys’ eldest son, also named John Jeffreys, later 2nd Baron Jeffreys of Wem; he left substantial legacies both to George and to John Jeffreys. Alderman Jeffreys’ circle included his nephews John‡ and Jeffrey Jeffreys‡, as well as Sir Robert Clayton‡ and Sir Thomas Bludworth and yet another unrelated namesake, Sir Robert Jeffreys. All were financially well established; all served at various times as aldermen of London. George Jeffreys’ brother Thomas was also connected with this circle, serving as Alderman John Jeffreys’ agent in Spain.
Just how wealthy Jeffreys became remains a matter for speculation. He certainly acquired a great deal of land – mainly in Buckinghamshire but also in Leicestershire and Shropshire – but it was heavily mortgaged. In February 1687, Roger Morrice reported that Jeffreys’ agents ‘now very openly say that he has the honour indeed of a peer of England, but has got very little by his place, having lived in good equipage, nor has had no casual advantages and is still very low in estate’.
By January 1669 Jeffreys was able to establish himself in an expensive set of chambers in King’s Bench Walk. In March 1671, less than two and a half years after being called to the bar, he was elected common serjeant of the City of London. The office, while prestigious in itself, did not preclude Jeffreys from private practice and probably enhanced his opportunities to attract business. It also appears to have been at this point that he first developed connections with the king’s court, reputedly providing it with intelligence about the activities of City aldermen.
Consolidating the power base, 1677–85
In 1677 Jeffreys was appointed solicitor general to the duke of York, and received a knighthood; early the following year he became a bencher. In August 1678 he entertained the king, his mistress Louise de Kéroualle (duchess of Portsmouth), and other courtiers to dinner at Bulstrode. His friendship with Louise de Kéroualle, and through her with Robert Spencer, 2nd earl of Sunderland, was to be an important factor in his career. Given the duchess’s later reputation as a pardon broker and Jeffreys’ subsequent influence within the criminal justice system, it is not difficult to imagine that their relationship may have been to their mutual financial benefit. It is not clear when or how it began, but it may be significant that the duchess’s sister, Henriette de Kéroualle, had married Philip Herbert, 7th earl of Pembroke, in 1674. Although the centre of the Pembroke estates after the civil wars was in Wiltshire, the earl was also a major landowner in Wales, with estates in Glamorganshire and Monmouthshire; his daughter would subsequently marry Jeffreys’ son, John. Reports of that dinner in August 1678 concentrated, however, on the putative relationship between Jeffreys and the king rather than that of Jeffreys and the duchess: ‘The king caused Sir George to sit down at table with him and drank to him seven times’.
In 1679 Jeffreys married for the second time. His marriages mirror his meteoric rise: his first wife had been the daughter of a modest country clergyman; his second was an heiress, albeit one with a sharp tongue who was reputed to have been pregnant by Sir John Trevor‡ on their wedding day, though Jeffreys’ continuing friendship with Trevor and his affectionate relationship with his wife suggest the slur was unjustified.
At the end of April 1680 Jeffreys replaced the popular and well-respected old royalist Sir Job Charlton as chief justice of Chester, at a salary of £500 a year.
It is tempting to speculate about a political motive for Jeffreys’ appointment. Shortly after this, Henry Somerset, 3rd marquess of Worcester (later duke of Beaufort), carried out an extensive purge of the Welsh magistracy, but that purge reflected personal as well as political grudges and there seems to be no reason to believe that the court really needed someone more pliant than Charlton.
Jeffreys had been involved in a number of cases arising from the Popish Plot, both as counsel for the crown and in his capacity as recorder. Where reports of these cases exist, they indicate that his conduct was, if not entirely unexceptionable, certainly far from the caricature of the judicial bully that has become legendary. Yet his association with the court and particularly with the Catholic duchess of Portsmouth would in itself have raised suspicions of partiality. His role in the otherwise obscure case of Philip Doughty, convicted of murder in August 1680, led to rumours that he was somehow acting on behalf of Portsmouth, or her servants.
Jeffreys’ open political partisanship now led to an attempt to remove him from the recordership of the City on the grounds that his activities made him ‘dangerous and destructive to public peace, unity and prosperity’. During the proceedings Henry Booth, later 2nd Baron Delamer and earl of Warrington, who was closely allied to Anthony Ashley Cooper, earl of Shaftesbury, and James Scott, duke of Monmouth, described Jeffreys as behaving like a ‘jack-pudding’, accused him of browbeating witnesses, and reported rumours that he regularly drank until two o’clock in the morning.
Despite this setback, Jeffreys’ ties to the City remained strong. In April 1681 he was appointed to the City militia, and early in May to the City lieutenancy. Later that month he presented a loyal address from the citizens of Southwark, together with his father-in-law, Sir Thomas Bludworth, who presented a similar address on behalf of the City. In August Jeffreys was one of those deputed to attend the feast for Tory apprentices at Sadlers Hall.
Throughout 1682 Jeffreys continued to ingratiate himself with the court. It may have been he who suggested the revival of the custom of toasting at the City of London’s Bridgehouse feast, which was used in 1682 to ensure the appointment of a Tory sheriff.
In March 1683, when Lord Chief Justice Saunders fell ill, Sunderland immediately proposed Jeffreys as his replacement. At that time the suggestion was unwelcome to the king, who protested that such a promotion would arouse professional jealousies among the existing judges and that Jeffreys ‘had not law enough’.
Like many of Charles II’s judicial appointments, Jeffreys was appointed ‘at pleasure’ rather than during ‘good behaviour’. His appointment amounted to a virtual declaration of war on those who opposed the court in general and the duke of York in particular. In the ensuing term he presided over a whole series of trials relating to the Rye House Plot, most notably that of Algernon Sydney‡. His handling of Sydney’s trial has attracted much attention, largely because of the publicity accorded to Sydney’s own objections.
Within five months of his appointment Jeffreys had released Danby from prison, in direct opposition to Sunderland’s wishes and against the advice of the lord chancellor, Francis North, Baron Guilford. Power was now concentrated in Jeffreys’ hands to an extent unprecedented for a professional lawyer. In the City he was at the centre of the quo warranto campaign against livery companies and was consulted in everything from applications for places as coal-meters, to the appointment of clerks and other officers appointed to the livery companies under their new charters, it being essential that such persons be ‘of a steady loyalty and unbiased affection to the established government of Church and state’. When the coal-heavers petitioned for incorporation and the surgeons and periwig makers asked for their own companies, it was to Jeffreys that the government turned for advice.
In the provinces he was similarly involved in the government’s quo warranto campaign against the corporations. He had been appointed high steward of Wallingford in 1681; now he became recorder of New Windsor and of Plymouth; and it was Jeffreys who accepted the surrender of the charters of Liverpool, Lincoln, Carlisle, Kendal, Lancaster, York, and probably many others. In September 1683 he presided at the Chester assizes when a packed grand jury, under the chairmanship of the court Member Sir Thomas Grosvenor‡, presented Charles Gerard, earl of Macclesfield, and 27 other Whig magnates as a danger to the king and kingdom. Jeffreys also persuaded Chester’s corporation to surrender its charter.
Jeffreys believed that part of his function was to mount an aggressive campaign against the government’s critics, complaining on one occasion that ‘every pitiful mechanic rascal instead of mending their shop tools pretended to mend the government’.
As one of the commissioners for London Jeffreys was responsible for turning out ‘those persons in hospitals and other public places who are whiggishly inclined’ and encouraging the stricter use of laws against conventicles.
Private causes heard in Jeffreys’ court included several actions of scandalum magnatum in which James, duke of York, was awarded extortionate damages against his political opponents. They also included cases that, although outside the mainstream of factional politics did have important constitutional implications, such as Lady Ivy’s case, which centred on the ownership of lands that had been alienated from the Church in the sixteenth century. This case almost certainly opened up possibilities for the crown to reclaim ownership of former Church lands that had been granted to commoners at the Reformation. Little wonder that in July 1684 the king ‘as a signal favour’ presented Jeffreys with a diamond ring pulled from his own finger.
In September 1684 Jeffreys was at the centre of negotiations for a new City charter, the terms of which he had personally approved.
In January 1685 there were rumours that Jeffreys was to be elevated to the peerage as Viscount Wrexham.
Predictably, Jeffreys’ conduct in the early days of James II’s reign demonstrated a continuing commitment to the cause of the crown. He seems to have run a virtual blacklist of selected lawyers. In February 1685 he warned representatives of Oxford University against employing John Wallis as their counsel in any forthcoming trial in his court, ‘lest their cause fare the worse’; Wallis’ offence was to have hosted meetings of defence witnesses during the trial of Stephen College.
Jeffreys and Parliament, 1685–9
Meanwhile, Jeffreys threw himself wholeheartedly into the election campaign, combining electioneering with his circuit duties.
that whatever was well done in the City was attributed to his influence and contrivance; that himself and the aldermen were but looked upon at court as his instruments; and that … his lordship used them contemptibly … and that many were laid aside from their employments, not being suffered to make their defence …
Reresby Mems. 380.
Jeffreys took his seat in the House on 19 May 1685, the first sitting day of the new Parliament, and attended 36 of the 43 sitting days that year. His cousin (and friend) Sir John Trevor was Speaker of the House of Commons. Jeffreys held the proxy of Ralph Stawell, Baron Stawell, from 13 June 1685. In October, when Robert Bertie, 3rd earl of Lindsey, sent his proxy to the king, ‘to be disposed of as his majesty thinks fit’, this too was given to Jeffreys.
In August 1685, in the aftermath of Monmouth’s failed rebellion, Jeffreys led the special commission to try the rebels. Some 300 people – the precise number is unknown – were executed, and another 800 were transported. The quartered bodies of the executed were displayed for several years as a salutary warning of the consequences of rebellion. There were so many of them that it created an ‘exceeding chargeable and troublesome’ logistical nightmare for local officials.
Jeffreys himself is said to have claimed, shortly before his death, that ‘what I did I had express orders for, and was so far from exceeding my orders, that I was not half bloody enough for the man who sent me thither’.
Jeffreys’ role in the repression of Monmouth’s rebellion was simply a more extreme version of the consistently savage subjugation of rebellion that had been seen since Farnley Wood in the early years of the Restoration. The surprise after Monmouth’s rebellion was not that there were executions but that there were so many of them.
In August 1685 Jeffreys was tipped as a candidate for the lord lieutenancy of Ireland, but that post went instead to Henry Hyde, 2nd earl of Clarendon. Roger Morrice concluded that Jeffreys had been opposed by ‘some very potent person’ but the reality was probably rather more prosaic: that Jeffreys’ name had been tossed about as part of the continuing infighting at court. Jeffreys’ sights were now set on the lord chancellorship, which was at last made vacant by the death in September 1685 of the ailing Guilford. Although he must have been the most obvious candidate for the post, he did have rivals, including Francis Turner, the recently appointed bishop of Ely, and Robert Sawyer‡, the attorney general.
On 17 Oct. 1685 Jeffreys sat for the first time as lord chancellor and, much to Roger Morrice’s surprise, ‘gave satisfaction to all’. A few days later his speech to mark the inaugural sitting of his successor as lord chief justice, Sir Edward Herbert, set out the political objectives of the judiciary with an uncompromising attack on the Whigs, ‘a pestilent sort of men … that were implacable enemies … and therefore must have the utmost vengeance of the law taken upon them’. Although there was no outward sign of it, according to Roger Morrice Herbert had been appointed against Jeffreys’ wishes, demonstrating that even at the height of his influence his interest had considerable limitations.
As lord chancellor Jeffreys was also now at the centre of the crown’s campaign to appoint loyal magistrates.
Having prorogued Parliament in November, the first major test of Jeffreys’ new office was to preside over the court of the lord high steward for the trial of Henry Booth, now 2nd Baron Delamer, on a charge of high treason arising from his alleged role in Monmouth’s rebellion. Thomas Bruce, 2nd earl of Ailesbury, was later at pains to suggest that James II went out of his way to convince his subjects that Delamer would receive a fair trial. Since he then went on to state that the peers summoned for the trial included only household officers, army officers, and lords lieutenants, any suggestion that the trial was not rigged is almost impossible to accept at face value.
Throughout the spring of 1686 there were signs that Jeffreys was being outflanked at court by those who were politically even more extreme than he was himself, though whether the issues he questioned stemmed from genuine ideological concern, from a fear of criticism from the Parliament that was due to meet in the autumn, or from a belief that backing Laurence Hyde, earl of Rochester, was now a better bet than backing Sunderland is something of an open question. He expressed concern on a range of subjects, from the revision of the judicial bench to the appointment, against the Henrician statutes, of the Catholic Roger Palmer, earl of Castlemaine [I], as ambassador to Rome. He disagreed with the burning of Claude’s account of the persecution of French Huguenots and began to support Rochester’s arguments in the closet and on the ecclesiastical commission, but neither Rochester nor his brother Clarendon were prepared to accept his overtures.
In June 1686 Jeffreys commenced an action of scandalum magnatum against Margaret Lilburn, who was said to have called him ‘a bloody man’, to have wished to see him hanged, and to have criticized the way in which he had profited from the treatment of Monmouth’s rebels. Lilburn, ‘a woman of very mean estate and employment’ who could not defend herself, was forced to disappear after a verdict for £10,000 damages. That same month Jeffreys was reported as intending ‘to search into all the Inns of Court’.
Also brewing behind the scenes was a dispute between Roger L’Estrange and Jeffreys. According to Roger Morrice, Jeffreys had already taken umbrage at certain remarks published by L’Estrange in the Observator in May. The relationship between the two men further deteriorated when L’Estrange alerted the king to Dean Sharp’s sermon and its strictures on papists. Sharp was a friend of Jeffreys, who attempted to smooth matters over. He was so confident of his success that he informed all the interested parties that no action would be taken. L’Estrange and Jeffreys also fell out over the prosecution of Dissenters. Roger Morrice reported that prosecutions and harrying of conventicles in the London area continued throughout the first half of 1686. Among the meetings targeted was one held at the house of Thomas Spencer in Newington and frequented by Charles Fleetwood, the former parliamentarian general. The informers, members of the notorious Hilton gang, tried to collect over £600 in fines, then offered to compound for £200 or £300. Their victims refused to pay and entered an appeal. The following month instead of prosecuting their appeal at the Middlesex sessions of the peace, they entered formal complaints against William Cleeve, the justice who had convicted them. The informers were indicted for perjury and the assembled justices, clearly acting on advice from Jeffreys, drew up a representation of Cleeve’s misconduct. This was presented to Jeffreys as a prelude to Cleeve’s removal form the bench. Cleeve, who claimed to be acting on the king’s ‘special commands’, promptly threatened to represent the justices to the king. It was no idle threat. It now emerged that Cleeve was under the protection of Roger L’Estrange. Cleeve alleged that Spencer’s conventicle was frequented by people who were openly sympathetic to anyone claiming to have been involved in Monmouth’s rebellion. Jeffreys was forced to humble himself to L’Estrange and to give him ‘great matter of triumph’ by clearing Cleeve of all charges.
In July 1686 Jeffreys was named to the ecclesiastical commission. It was also thought, erroneously, that his interest would be sufficient to secure the see of Chester for his brother James; Jeffreys was so piqued when Thomas Cartwright, was not only given the bishopric but also a living that Jeffreys had designed for his own chaplain, that he refused to pass the royal assent and left town for a few days.
In October 1686 Jeffreys was trusted to make a royal visitation of the deanery of Windsor. He was also named to the committee to regulate the commissions of the peace, yet when the regulation took place at a meeting of the council in November, the king listened to his Catholic advisers and Jeffreys ‘was never at all consulted nor bore any figure in this matter’. His status at court was only just sufficient to protect him from a threat of assault by one of Rochester’s adherents, George Legge, Baron Dartmouth. In January 1687 Jeffreys was one of the electors at the Charterhouse, where his support for a Catholic candidate provoked an argument about the dispensing power. Jeffreys and Sunderland argued in vain against Danby, who, supported by James Butler, duke of Ormond, Halifax, and William Sancroft, archbishop of Canterbury, declared the dispensing power to be illegal and ‘the judges’ opinions … unwarrantable by the laws of England’.
In April 1687 a case that tested the validity of capital punishment in cases of desertion from the army precipitated Herbert’s removal as a justice of the king’s bench. It was believed that the case had been contrived by Jeffreys in order to ensnare his rival, and when, in the course of his deliberations, Herbert deplored the use of judicial proceedings for ‘personal advantage and lucre’, his words were widely interpreted as a reference to Jeffreys. Yet, although Jeffreys may have engineered Herbert’s fall, he was by no means in the ascendant at court, for he was unable to prevent the removal of his friend and ally Francis Wythens‡ from the bench later the same month.
As lord chancellor, Jeffreys was called upon to seal the Declaration of Indulgence and to arrange for it to be printed and published, and also to insert a dispensing clause into every commission of the peace and all other commissions and patents that were to be sealed by him in the future.
In August 1687 Jeffreys was appointed lord lieutenant of Shropshire, and to the commission of lieutenancy for the City of London. He obtained the post of ranger of St James’s Park for his son in September and in November he became lord lieutenant of Buckinghamshire.
On 7 Jan. 1688 Jeffreys was called to a long interview with the king from which he emerged ‘so greatly disordered and discomposed’ that his friends concluded that he had been threatened with dismissal. His refusal to become a Catholic without some guarantee of retaining his position was a contributory factor to his fall from favour, since it implied a lack of trust in his sovereign; what was more important, however, was his lack of sympathy with the king’s new policies: ‘it cannot but be a pressure upon him to the very breaking of his heart to see the Tories thus depressed, and to see the Protestant Dissenters enjoy the liberty they now have’. The king had given him some £2,500 in new year’s gifts, but in anticipation of his removal from office Jeffreys cut back on his expenses by dismissing several servants.
Later that month Jeffreys wrote a series of letters to the gentry and deputy lieutenants in Shropshire on the subject of the three questions. He did not give his own views, suggesting that to do so when the king had expressed his intentions so fully would be impertinent, but ‘humbly’ (and unsuccessfully) requested their compliance.
In July 1688 Jeffreys’ merchant brother Thomas referred to him as having ‘his head … full of business and I fear his mind full of discontent’ and asked for information about his affairs. Even in Alicante he had heard about troubles at court: ‘I hear various reports of him, some that he stands as fast as ever, others that he is much declined at court and is abundantly uneasy and out of humour.’
Jeffreys’ surviving correspondence for September and October, meagre as it is, is sufficient to indicate that he was inundated with work arising from the task of restoring justices to the county commissions.
Meanwhile Jeffreys was taking steps to settle his family affairs. His eldest daughter, Margaret, had been married to the son of his fellow lawyer Sir Thomas Stringer‡ in a ceremony conducted by Sprat of Rochester, in October 1687. In July 1688 his eldest son, John Jeffreys, married Lady Charlotte Herbert, the 13-year-old daughter of Philip Herbert, the deceased 7th earl of Pembroke. Lady Charlotte was a substantial heiress, said to be worth £70,000. Unfortunately, her inheritance had been secured by a decision in chancery handed down by Jeffreys himself in the full knowledge of his son’s forthcoming marriage. Jeffreys of course denied any partiality, but his decision nevertheless provoked controversy, a series of appeals, and ultimately, long after Jeffreys’ death, a private act of Parliament. Lady Charlotte was also a Catholic, so the marriage identified Jeffreys even more closely in the public mind as a supporter of popery. On 7 Oct. 1688 he drew up a settlement for his daughters, appointing as their trustees Sir Robert Clayton, his younger brother Dr James Jeffreys, Henry Pollexfen‡, Thomas Colston, and Edward Jennings. On 25 Oct. he settled his estate at Bulstrode, naming Thomas White of Peterborough and Sir Thomas Bludworth as trustees.
By early December the political situation had deteriorated to such an extent that Jeffreys was forced to move with his goods from his house in Duke Street to Father Petre’s lodgings in Whitehall.
There were great expectations of the confessions that Jeffreys might make, as well as fears that he might prove a rallying point for counter-revolution.
I was in hopes notwithstanding my long indisposition of body I might by the blessing of almighty god have recovered so much strength as to have been able to vindicate myself if called to an account and made out that I never deserved to lie under the heavy censures I now do. I am sure I could have excused myself from having betrayed that Church whereof I have lived and die a member, I mean the Church of England which I take to be the best Church in the world and in the words of a dying man I declare I never contrived the ecclesiastical commission nor ever acted therein save in order to the service not overthrow of that Church.
His sons by his second wife having predeceased him, his only surviving son by his first wife, John Jeffreys, succeeded him as 2nd Baron Jeffreys.
