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.