e ; m. Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924087997239 tX LIBRIS The Whitehall Edition of THE Complete U^orks of Lord AIacaulay Limited to one thousand sets Number THE COMPLETE WORKS OF LORD MACAULAY •**=. Lord Macaulay, cet. ^g From a drawing by George Richmond, A.R.A. WHITEHALL EDITION ITbe Ibistor^ of FROM THE ACCESSION OF JAMES THE SECOND BY LORD MACAULAY With an Introduction by EDWARD P. CHEYNEY, A.M. Professor of European History. University of Pennsylvania VOLUME I. ILLUSTRATED G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS NEW YORK AND LONDON ?rbe IRnlcf^crbocf^cr press fr Copyright, i8g8 (for introduction and designs) BY G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS Ube Iftnicberbochcc iprese, TRew jgorft CONTENTS CHAPTER I BEFORE THE RESTORATION Introduction ..... Britain under the Romans . Britain under the Saxons Conversion of the Saxons to Christianity Danish Invasions .... The Normans The Norman Conquest Separation of England and Normandy Amalgamation of Races English Conquests on the Continent . Wars of the Roses .... Extinction of Villeinage Beneficial Operation of the Roman Catholic Religion The Early English Polity often Misrepresented, and why, NaCure of the Limited Monarchies of the Middle Ages. Prerogatives of the Early English Kings . . . . Limitations of the Prerogative ...... Resistance an Ordinary Check on Tyranny in the Middle Ages .......... Peculiar Character of the English Aristocracy . Government of the Tudors ....... Limited Monarchies of the Middle Ages generally Turned into Absolute Monarchies ...... PAGH I 4 5 7 II 12 14 17 i8 20 24 25 26 29 32 33 34 39 43 45 48 HI IV Contents Offered to th e Same Empire d after the Ac The English Monarchy a Singular Exception The Reformation and its Effects . Origin of the Church of England Her Peculiar Character Relation in which she Stood to the Crown The Puritans ..... Their Republican Spirit No Systematic Parliamentary Opposition Government of Elizabeth Question of the Monopolies Scotland and Ireland Become Parts of th with England .... Diminution of the Importance of Englan cession of James I, . . . Doctrine of Divine Right . The Separation between the Church and the Puritans Be comes Wider ..... Accession and Character of Charles I. Tactics of the Opposition in the House of Commons Petition of Right Petition of Right Violated . Character and Designs of Wentworth Character of Laud .... Star-chamber and High Commission . Ship-money Resistance to the Liturgy in Scotland A Parliament Called and Dissolved The Long Parliament .... First Appearance of the Two Great English Parties The Irish Rebellion .... The Remonstrance .... Impeachment of the Five Members . Departure of Charles from London Commencement of the Civil War Successes of the Royalists . Rise of the Independents Oliver Cromwell ..... Self-denying Ordinance PAGE 49 51 58 59 62 67 69 70 72 73 79 80 85 96 97 98 100 100 102 103 104 107 no 112 113 121 123 125 127 130 133 134 135 136 Contents Victory ot the Parliament . Domination and Character of the Army Risings against the Military Government Suppressed Proceedings against the King His Execution .... Subjugation of Ireland and Scotland Expulsion of the Long Parliament The Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell Oliver Succeeded by Richard Fall of Richard and Revival of the IvOug Parliament Second Expulsion of the Long Parliament The Army of Scotland Marches into England . Monk Declares for a Free Parliament General Election of 1660 ..... The Restoration PAGE 142 143 155 161 165 166 167 170 171 173 CHAPTER II UNDER CHARI^ES THE SECOND Conduct of those who Restored the House of Stuart un justly Censured ....... Abolition of Tenures by Knight Service Disbanding of the Army ...... Disputes between the Roundheads and Cavaliers Re- newed ......... Religious Dissension Unpopularity of the Puritans Character of Charles II Characters of the Duke of York and Earl of Clarendon General Election of 1661 Violence of the Cavaliers in the New Parliament Persecution of the Puritans . . .... Zeal of the Church for Hereditary Monarchy . Change in the Morals of the Community . Profligacy of Politicians State of Scotland State of Ireland 174 176 177 179 181 184 193 197 201 202 203 205 206 209 211 214 VI Contents The Government Becomes Unpopular in England War with the Dutch ...... Opposition in the House of Commons Fall of Clarendon ...... State of European Politics, and Ascendency of France Character of Lewis XIV. .... The Triple Alliance ..... The Country Party Connection between Charles II. and France Views of Lewis with Respect to England . Treaty of Dover ...... Nature of the English Cabinet The Cabal Shutting of the Exchequer . War with the United Provinces, and their Extreme Dan- ger William, Prince of Orange Meeting of the Parliament ..... Declaration of Indulgence ..... It is Cancelled, and the Test Act Passed The Cabal Dissolved Peace with the United Provinces Administration of Danby ..... Embarrassing Situation of the Country Party . Dealings of that Party with the French Embassy Peace of Nimeguen .... Violent Discontents in England . Fall of Danby ..... The Popish Plot First General Election of 1679 . Violence of the New House of Commor.s Temple's Plan of Government . Character of Halifax .... Character of Sunderland Prorogation of the Parliament Habeas Corpus Act .... Second General Election of 1679 Popularity of Monmouth PAGE 216 220 222 223 227 229 232 234 237 241 243 244 248 249 251 253 253 256 257 258 258 261 262 264 264 267 268 272 274 275 280 283 2S6 286 287 287 Contents VII Lawrence Hyde Sidney Godolphin . , Violence of Factions on the Subject of the Exclusion Bill Names of Whig and Tory Meeting of Parliament ; the Exclusion Bill Passes the Commons ........ Exclusion Bill Rejected by the Lords Execution of Stafford ....... General Election of 1681 Parliament Held at Oxford, and Dissolved Tory Reaction ........ Persecution of the Whigs . . . . . Charter of the City Confiscated ..... Whig Conspiracies ....... Detection of the Whig Conspiracies .... Severity of the Government ..... Seizure of Charters ....... Influence of the Duke of York ..... He is Opposed by Halifax Lord Guildford ........ Policy of Lewis ........ State of Factions in the Court at the Time of Charles's Death PAGE 295 297 298 299 300 301 301 305 305 308 309 310 311 313 315 318 319 CHAPTER III STATE OF ENGI,AND IN 1 685 Great Change in the State of England Since 1685 Population of England in 1685 Increase of Population Greater in the North than in th South . Revenue in 1685 Military System The Navy The Ordnance Non-effective Charge 323 324 327 330 334 343 352 352 Vlll Contents Charge of Civil Government Great Gains of Ministers and Courtiers State of Agriculture Mineral Wealth of the Country Increase of Rent . The Country Gentlemen The Clergy .... PAGE 353 354 358 364 367 367 374 ILL L \STRA TIONS Page Lord Macau lay, ^Et ^(p . . Frojitispiccc From a draiciug by George Richmond, A.R.A. William the Conqiicror . From an oigraviug by G. Verine The Battle of Creey From an old print. Archbishop Craniiicr From a steel engraving. Queen Elizabeth From a painting by Zucchero. VOL. I ix 4 An Ancient Briton .... From an old print. Xornian Soldiers as Brone'ht into Eno- land by JJ^illiani the Conqueror, 1066. 12 From a design by Godefioy. The Battle of Hastings .... From a design by Godcfroy. iS 22 68 X Illustrations Page Jauics I. ,...., 80 From a desiisn l>v J'ansorner. Charles L ...... g6 From a painting hy Sir Peter Lelv after Anton I'an- dyke, Dresdoi Gallery. I 7c7C' of Droghcda ..... 122 Redraivn from a print in the ''European Magiizine," Oliver Cromwell ..... Ij6 From a painting by Sir Peter Lely. Oliver Cromwell ..... /-/2 From a drawing by y . L. IVilliams. General Georoe Monk .... 75./ Tlie Bear Garden, London . . . 18^ From an old print. The Dnteh Fleet on the Thames . . 220 Redra'vn from an old woodcut. The Battle of Bothwell Bridge . . 2p6 From a dra^oing by TT'. Harz'ev. Prince Rupert Summoning the Garrison of Leicester to Surrender . . j^fS Fr»in a dra^ving by I'hrosby. INTRODUCTION T^ROM the publication of the very earliest of Macaulay's essays, that on Milton, which ap- peared in the EdinbiirgJi Review in 1825, through the whole continuance of his literary production to the issue of the posthumous fifth volume of his History in 1 86 1, his work received an amount of contemporary attention which no other historical writings and but few books of any kind have ever obtained. When the collected edition of his essays was published in 1845, it began immediately to be sold in numbers until then unprecedented, except in the case of a few novels. When the first two volumes of the History of England were issued in 1848, some 13,000 copies were sold in four months, and more than 26,500 copies of the third VOL. I. XI xii Introduction and fourth volumes were sold within six weeks after their publication, in December, 1855. The amount of discussion which these volumes awak- ened, the criticism, favorable and unfavorable, which they called forth, the investigation which they induced were even more remarkable than the extent to which they were read. Some of the reasons for this immediate popular- ity and attention are quite evident. The eloquent expression, the dignified thought, the brilliant imagery, the balance of the sentences, and the flow of the narrative made history interesting by the very form of the medium in which it was embodied. The introductory chapter of the History, for in- stance, is a sustained series of vivid pictures and striking comparisons which one will hardly from choice lay down before finishing. Again, Macau- lay's political views and his whole treatment of the past history of England commended itself to the dominant tendencies in the thought of the time. " A great Whig pamphlet," his history has been called ; and it is true that the prevailing principles of the middle of this century in England, moderate reforms, religious toleration, the supremacy of the Introduction xiii educated middle classes, were by means of his in- terpretation of the seventeenth century given an historical background and justification that their own adherents had never known or claimed. His popularity, therefore, extended to classes whose practical instincts had drawn them rather away from than toward the reading of history, and among persons who were profoundly ignorant even of a period which he described as " within the memory of men now living." But this last reason for popularity was in the nature of things temporary. The political princi- ples which found their justification in Macaulay's treatment of the past ceased to be dominant. Some of these principles were incorporated into the general body of political and social institutions, and a larger element of idealism has superseded his purely utilitarian idea of society. And yet his works have continued to be read in times and among people and in lands where political sym- pathy or interest cannot be the inducement. Edi- tion after edition of his History and his Essays have been printed and exhausted and again re- printed in all English-speaking countries, and they xlv Introduction have been translated into at least ten foreign lan- guages. There is evidently something which has given them a permanence of interest granted to but few books, especially books of history. A solution of the problem of this continued popularity will perhaps at the same time give some estimate of Macaulay's place and value in historical literature. There seem to be three general reasons for the pleasure which people take in his writing: First, the brilliancy of his style; second, the wealth and variety of the knowledge which he displays; and third, the dcfiniteness of the impressions which he produces. The first has been already referred to, and has remained a permanent influence in sub- sequent literature, notwithstanding a certain re- action toward a more direct and natural style. But it is not the style alone ; the matter as well as the form is exhilarating. The constant flow of allusion and illustration provided from the stores of a memory of incredible strength and readiness, gives an impression of adequacy and completeness to his descriptions and discussions which satisfies at the same time that it stimulates the imagination. Lastly, Macaulay is always sure of his judgments, Introduction xv and leaves no vexatious uncertainties. Even when he is giving what is to be said on both sides of a question, or pointing out the good and the bad in a man's character, or acknowledging the insufficiency of our information about certain events, his own habitual certainty of conviction shows through the appearance of judicial discussion, and is contagious. The average reader is always left by Macaulay's narrative in a condition of mental acquiescence and consequent satisfaction. It is mainly for these reasons that his books have continued to be read with pleasure by so many thousands, and still hold a position of scarcely diminished popularity. But these \'ery reasons call attention to the ne- cessity for a warning to his readers. There are two quite different views of historical writing. The one looks upon it as a form of literature, an artistic product, the materials for which are to be found in the events of the past ; the other considers it as a science, the solution of the problems involved in the same events of the past. Macaulay represents the former rather than the latter. If strict canons of criticism were applied to his method of investiga- tion and writing, much of his work would fail to xvl Introduction stand the test. Indeed the characters which he has drawn of William Penn, James IL, and others; his account of some of the affairs in India connected with the administration of Warren Hastings, and other passages of history have been definitely proved to be erroneous. Abundance of illustration and analogy frequently takes the place of a really exhaustive study of the sources. There are few things in history quite so certain as he seems to make them. Moreover, the crowning grace of a great historian, a spirit of candor and a habit of judicial fairness, was not by any means a character- istic of Macaulay's mind. Yet those who treat history as a science have so far shown an almost entire lack of literary ability, and until the histor- ians who follow these more rigorous methods can give their results in an equally attractive form it is only natural that their readers should be few while Macaulay's should be many. It is with a recognition of these facts that his books should be read. They must not be taken as giving all that can be said on any subject, nor as always furnishing the results of the most recent and the fairest research ; but their brilliancy, their in- Introduction XVI 1 terest, their suggestiveness should lead, as they have already led so many, to a further interest in the history of England, and to such an amount and variety of reading as will enable the reader him- self to make an independent judgment, Edward P. Cheyney. University of Pennsylvania, February sy, i8gS. THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND HISTORY OF ENGLAND CHAPTER I BEFORE THE RESTORATION 1 PURPOSE to write the histon- of England from the accession of King James the Second down to a time which is within the memory of men still living. I shall recount the errors which, in a few months, alienated a loyal gentry' and priesthood from the House of Stuart. I shall trace the course of that revolution which terminated the long struggle between our sovereigns and their parliaments, and bound up together the rights of the people and the title of the reigning dynasty. I shall relate how the new settle- ment w^as, during many troubled years, successfully defended against foreign and domestic enemies ; how, under that settlement, the authorit>' of law and the security of property were found to be compatible with a liberty of discussion and of individual action never be- fore known ; how, from the auspicious union of order and freedom, sprang a prosperity of which the annals VOL. I. — 1 2 History of England of human affairs had furnished no example ; how our country, from a state of ignominious vassalage, rapidly rose to the place of umpire among European powers ; how her opulence and her martial glory grew together ; how, by wise and resolute good faith, was gradually established a public credit fruitful of marvels which to the statesmen of any former age would have seemed in credible ; how a gigantic commerce gave birth to a mari- time power, compared with which every other maritime power, ancient or modern, sinks into insignificance ; how Scotland, after ages of enmity, was at length united to England, not merely by legal bonds, but by indis- soluble ties of interest and affection ; how, in America, the British colonies rapidly became far mightier and wealthier than the realms which Cortez and Pizarro had added to the dominions of Charles the Fifth ; how in Asia, British adventurers founded an empire not less splendid and more durable than that of Alexander. Nor will it be less my duty faithfully to record dis- asters mingled with triumphs, and great national crimes and follies far more humiliating than any disaster. It will be seen that even what we justly account our chief blessings were not without alloy. It will be seen that the system which effectually secured our liberties against the encroachments of kingly power gave birtli to a new class of abuses from which absolute monarchies are exempt. It will be seen that, in consequence partly of unwise interference, and parti 3^ of unwise neglect, the increase of wealth and the extension of trade produced, together with immense good, some evils from which poor and rude societies are free. It will be seen how, in two important dependencies of the crown, wrong was followed by just retribution ; how imprudence and ob- Before the Restoration 3 stinacy broke the ties which bound the North American colonies to the parent state ; how Ireland, cursed by the domination of race over race, and of religion over religion, remained indeed a member of the empire, but a withered and distorted member, adding no strength to the body politic, and reproachfully pointed at by all who feared or envied the greatness of England. Yet, unless I greatly deceive myself, the general effect of this checkered narrativ^e will be to excite thankful- ness in all religious minds, and hope in the breasts of all patriots. For the history of our country during the last hundred and sixty years is eminently the history of physical, of moral, and of intellectual improvement. Those who compare the age on which their lot has fallen with a golden age which exists only in their imagination may talk of degeneracy and decay : but no man who is correctly informed as to the past will be disposed to take a morose or desponding view of the present. I should very imperfectly execute the task which I have undertaken if I were merely to treat of battles and sieges, of the rise and fall of administrations, of in- trigues in the palace, and of debates in the Parliament. It w411 be my endeavor to relate the history of the people as well as the history of the government, to trace the progress of useful and ornamental arts, to de- scribe the rise of religious sects and the changes of literary taste, to portray the manners of successive generations, and not to pass by with neglect even the revolutions which have taken place in dress, furniture, repasts, and public amusements. I shall cheerfully bear the reproach of having descended below the dignity of history, if I can succeed in placing before the Kng- 4 History of England lish of the nineteenth century a true picture of the life of their ancestors. The events which I propose to relate form only a single act of a great and eventful drama extending through ages, and must be very imperfectly understood unless the plot of the preceding acts be well known. I shall therefore introduce my narrative by a slight sketch of the history of our country from the earliest times. I sliall pass very rapidly over many centuries : but I shall dwell at some length on the vicissitudes of that contest which the administration of King James the Second brought to a decisive crisis. ' Nothing in the early existence of Britain indicated the greatness which she was destined to attain. Her „ ., . inhabitants, when first the\" became known Britain ' ■' under the to the Tydau mariners, were little superior Romans. ^^ ^j^^ nativcs of the Sandwich Islands. She was subjugated by the Roman arms ; but she received only a faint tincture of Roman arts and letters. Of the western provinces which obeyed the Caesars she was the last that was conquered, and the first that was flung away. No magnificent remains of lyatian porches and aqueducts are to be found in Britain. No writer of British birth is reckoned among the masters of I,atian poetry and eloquence. It is ' In this, and in the next chapter, I have very seldom thought it necessary to cite authorities : for in these chapters, I have not detailed events minutely, or used recondite materials ; and the facts which I mention are for the most part such that a person tolerably well read in English history, if not already apprised of them, will at least know where to look for evidence of them. In the subsequent chapters I shall carefully indicate the sources of my information. A71 Ancient Briton From an old print Before the Restoration 5 not probable that the islanders were at any time gen- erally familiar with the tongue of their Italian rulers. From the Atlantic to the vicinity of the Rhine the Latin has, during many centuries, been predominant. It drove out the Celtic ; it was not driven out by the Teutonic ; and it is at this daj^ the basis of the French, Spanish, and Portuguese languages. In our island the Latin appears never to have superseded the old Gaelic speech, and could not stand its ground against the German. The scanty and superficial civilization which the Britons had derived from their southern masters was effaced by the calamities of the fifth century. In the continental kingdoms into which the Roman Empire was then dissolved, the conquerors learned much from the conquered race. In Britain the conquered race be- came as barbarous as the conquerors. All the chiefs who founded Teutonic dynasties in the continental provinces of the Roman Empire — Alaric, D ■» • Theodoric, Clovis, Alboin — were zealous under the Christians. The followers of Ida and Saxons. Ccrdic, on the other hand, brought to their settlements in Britain all the superstitions of the Elbe. While the German princes who reigned at Paris, To- ledo, Aries, and Ravenna listened with reverence to the instructions of bishops, adored the relics of martyrs, and took part eagerly in disputes touching the Nicene theology, the rulers of Wessex and Mercia were still performing savage rites in the temples of Thor and Woden. The continental kingdoms which had risen on the ruins of the Western Empire kept up some intercourse with those eastern provinces where the ancient civiliza- 6 History of England tion, though slowly fading awa3' under the influence of misgoveniment, might still astonish and instruct bar- barians, where the court still exhibited the splendor of Diocletian and Constantine, where the public buildings were still adorned with the sculptures of Pol3'cletus and the paintings of Apelles, and where laborious pedants, themselves destitute of taste, sense, and spirit, could still read and interpret the masterpieces of Sophocles, of Demosthenes, and of Plato. From this communion Britain was cut off". Her shores were, to the polished race which dwelt by the Bosporus, objects of a mysteri- ous horror, such as that with which the lonians of the age of Homer had regarded the Straits of Scylla and the city of the L-sestrygonian cannibals. There was one province of our island in which, as Procopius had been told, the ground was covered with serpents, and the air was such that no man could inhale it and live. To this desolate region the spirits of the departed were ferried over from the land of the Franks at midnight. A strange race of fishermen performed the ghastly office. The speech of the dead was distinctly heard by the boatmen : their w^eight made the keel sink deep in the water ; but their forms were invisible to mortal eye. Such were the marvels wiiich an able historian, the contemporary of Belisarius, of Simplicius, and of Tri- bonian, gravely related in the rich and polite Constan- tinople, touching the country in which the founder of Constantinople had assumed the imperial purple. Con- cerning all the other provinces of the Western Empire we have continuous information. It is only in Britain that an age of fable completely separates two ages of truth. Odoacer and Totila, Euric and Thrasimund, Clovis, Fredegunda, and Brunhilda, are historical men Before the Restoration 7 and women. But Hengist and Horsa, Vortigern and Rowena, Arthur and Mordred are mythical persons, whose ver\' existence may be questioned, and whose adventures must be classed with those of Hercules and Romulus. At length the darkness begins to break ; and the country which has been lost to view as Britain re- appears as England. The conversion of Conversion . of the the Saxon colonists to Christianity was the Saxons to gj-g^ of a loug scrics of salutary revolutions. Christianity. . , , , 11-11 1 1 It is true that the Church had been deeply corrupted both b}- that superstition and by that philoso- phy against which she had long contended, and over which she had at last triumphed. She had given a too easy admission to doctrines borrowed from the ancient schools, and to rites borrowed from the ancient temples. Roman policy and Gothic ignorance, Grecian ingenuity and Syrian asceticism, had contributed to deprave her. Yet she retained enough of the sublime theology and benevolent morality of her earlier da^'s to elevate many intellects, and to purify many hearts. Some things also which at a later period were justh- regarded as among her chief blemishes were, in the seventh century, and long afterward, among her chief merits. That the sacerdotal order should encroach on the functions of the civil magistrate would, in our time, be a great evil. But that which in an age of good government is an evil may, in an age of grossly bad government, be a bless- ing. It is better that mankind should be governed by wise laws well administered, and by an enlightened public opinion, than by priestcraft : but it is better that men should be governed by priestcraft than by brute violence, by such a prelate as Dunstan than by such a 8 History of England warrior as Penda. A society sunk in ignorance, and ruled by mere physical force, has great reason to rejoice when a class, of which the influence is intellectual and moral, rises to ascendency. Such a class will doubtless abuse its power : but mental power, even when abused, is still a nobler and better power than that which con- sists merely in corporeal strength. We read in our Saxon chronicles of tyrants, who, when at the height of greatness, were smitten with remorse, who abhorred the pleasures and dignities which they had purchased by guilt, who abdicated their crowns, and who sought to atone for their oflfences by cruel penances and inces- sant prayers. These stories have drawn forth bitter expressions of contempt from some writers who, while they boasted of liberality, were in truth as narrow- minded as any monk of the Dark Ages, and whose habit was to apply to all events in the history of the world the standard received in the Parisian society of the eighteenth century. Yet surely a system which, however deformed by superstition, introduced strong moral restraints into communities previously governed only by vigor of muscle and by audacity of spirit, a system which taught the fiercest and mightiest ruler that he was, like his meanest bondman, a responsible being, might have seemed to deserve a more respectful mention from philosophers and philanthropists. The same observations will apply to the contempt with which, in the last centur3^ it was fashionable to speak of the pilgrimages, the sanctuaries, the crusades, and the monastic institutions of the Middle Ages. In times when men were scarcely ever induced to travel by liberal curiosity, or by the pursuit of gain, it was better that the rude inhabitant of the North should visit Before the Restoration 9 Italy and the East as a pilgrim, than that he should never see anything but those squalid cabins and un- cleared woods amidst which he was born. In times when life and when female honor were exposed to daily risk from tyrants and marauders, it was better that the precinct of a shrine should be regarded with an irrational awe, than that there should be no refuge inaccessible to cruelty and licentiousness. In times when statesmen were incapable of forming extensive political combina- tions, it was better that the Christian nations should be roused and united for the recovery of the Holy Sepul- chre, than that they should, one by one, be over- whelmed by the Mohammedan power. Whatever reproach may, at a later period, have been justly thrown on the indolence and luxur}^ of religious orders, it was surely good that, in an age of ignorance and violence, there should be quiet cloisters and gardens, in which the arts of peace could be safely cultivated, in which gentle and contemplative natures could find an asylum, in which one brother could employ himself in transcribing the ^neid of \'irgil, and another in medi- tating the Analytics of Aristotle, in which he who had a genius for art might illuminate a martyrology or can-e a crucifix, and in which he who had a turn for natural philosophy might make experiments on the properties of plants and minerals. Had not such retreats been scattered here and there among the huts of a miserable peasantry and the castles of a ferocious aristocracy, European society- would ha\'e consisted merely of beasts of burden and beasts of prey. The Church has many times been compared by divines to the ark of which we read in the Book of Genesis : but never was the re- semblance more perfect than during that evil time when lo History of England she alone rode, amidst darkness and tempest, on the deluge beneath which all the great works of ancient power and wisdom lay entombed, bearing within her that feeble germ from which a second and more glorious civilization was to spring. Even the spiritual supremacy arrogated by the Pope was, in the Dark Ages, productive of far more good than evil. Its effect was to unite the nations of Western Europe in one great commonwealth. What the Olym- pian chariot course and the Pythian oracle were to all the Greek cities, from Trebizond to Marseilles, Rome and her Bishop were to all Christians of the I^atin communion, from Calabria to the Hebrides. Thus grew up sentiments of enlarged benevolence. Races separated from each other by seas and mountains acknowledged a fraternal tie and a common code of public law. Even in war, the cruelty of the conqueror was not seldom mitigated by the recollection that he and his vanquished enemies were all members of one great federation. Into this federation our Saxon ancestors were now admitted. A regular communication was opened be- tween our shores and that part of Europe in which the traces of ancient power and policy were yet discernible. Many noble monuments which have since been de- stroyed or defaced still retained their pristine magnifi- cence ; and travellers, to whom Livy and Sallust were unintelligible, might gain from the Roman aqueducts and temples some faint notion of Roman history. The dome of Agrippa, still glittering with bronze, the mausoleum of Adrian, not yet deprived of its columns and statues, the Flavian amphitheatre, not yet de- graded into a quarry, told to the rude English pilgrims Before the Restoration n some part of the story of that great civilized world which had passed away. The islanders returned, with awe deeply impressed on their half-opened minds, and told the wandering inhabitants of the hovels of lyondon and York that, near the grave of Saint Peter, a mighty race, now extinct, had piled up buildings which would never be dissolved till the judgment-day. Learning followed in the train of Christianity. The poetry and eloquence of the Augustan Age were assiduously studied in Mercian and Northumbrian monasteries. The names of Bede and Alcuin were justly celebrated throughout Europe. Such was the state of our country when, in the ninth century, began the last great migra- tion of the northern barbarians. During many j^ears Denmark and Scandinavia con- tinued to pour forth innumerable pirates, distinguished by strength, by valor, by merciless ferocity, and by hatred of the Christian name. No sions. country suffered so much from these invaders as England. Her coasts lay near to the ports w^hence they sailed ; nor was any shire so far distant from the sea as to be secure from attack. The same atrocities which had attended the victor}^ of the Saxon over the Celt were now, after the lapse of ages, suffered by the Saxon at the hand of the Dane. Civilization, just as it began to rise, was met by this blow, and sank down once more. Large colonies of adventurers from the Baltic established themselves on the eastern shores of our island, spread gradually westward, and, supported b}' constant reinforcements from beyond the sea, aspired to the dominion of the whole realm. The struggle between the two fierce Teutonic breeds lasted through six generations. Each was alternately para- Before the Restoration 13 age secured their territory against foreign invasion. They estabUshed internal order, such as had long been unknown in the Frank empire. They embraced Chris- tianity ; and with Christianity they learned a great part of what the clergj^ had to teach. They abandoned their native speech, and adopted the French tongue, in which the Latin was the predominant element. They speedily raised their new language to a dignity and im- portance which it had never before possessed. They found it a barbarous jargon ; they fixed it in writing ; and they employed it in legislation, in poetry, and in romance. They renounced that brutal intemperance to which all the other branches of the great German family were too much inclined. The polite luxury of the Xorman presented a striking contrast to the coarse voracity and drunkenness of his Saxon and Danish neighbors. He loved to display his magnificence, not in huge piles of food and hogsheads of strong drink, but in large and stately edifices, rich armor, gallant horses, choice falcons, well-ordered tournaments, ban- quets delicate rather than abundant, and wines re- markable rather for their exquisite flavor than for their intoxicating power. That chivalrous spirit, which has exercised so powerful an influence on the politics, morals, and manners of all the European nations, was found in the highest exaltation among the Norman nobles. Those nobles w^ere distinguished by their graceful bearing and insinuating address. They were distinguished also by their skill in negotiation, and by a natural eloquence which they assiduously cultivated. It was the boast of one of their historians that the Norman gentlemen were orators from the cradle. But their chief fame was derived from their military ex- 14 History of England ploits. Every country, from the Atlantic Ocean to the Dead Sea, witnessed the prodigies of their discipline and valor. One Norman knight, at the head of a hand- ful of warriors, scattered the Celts of Connaught. An- other founded the monarchy of the Two Sicilies, and saw the emperors both of the East and of the West fly be- fore his arms. A third, the Ulysses of the first crusade, was invested by his fellow-soldiers with the sovereignty of Antioch ; and a fourth, the Tancred whose name lives in the great poem of Tasso, was celebrated through Christendom as the bravest and most generous of the deliverers of the Holy Sepulchre. The vicinity of so remarkable a people early began to produce an effect on the public mind of England. Before the Conquest, English princes received their edu- cation in Normandy. English sees and English estates were bestowed on Normans. The French of Normandy was familiarly spoken in the palace of Westminster. The court of Rouen seems to have been to the court of Edward the Confessor what the court of Versailles long afterward was to the court of Charles the Second. The Battle of Hastings, and the events which fol- lowed it, not only placed a Duke of Normandy on the English throne, but gave up the whole Con uest"^" population of England to the tyranny of the Norman race. The subjugation of a nation by a nation has seldom, even in Asia, been more com- plete. The country was portioned out among the cap- tains of the invaders. Strong military institutions, closely connected with the institution of property, enabled the foreign conquerors to oppress the children of the soil. A cruel penal code, cruelly enforced, guarded the privileges, and even the sports, of the alien The Battle of Hastings From a design by Godep-oy Before the Restoration 15 tyrants. Yet the subject race, though beaten down and trodden underfoot, still made its sting felt. Some bold men, the favorite heroes of our oldest ballads, be- took themselves to the woods, and there, in defiance of curfew laws and forest laws, waged a predatory war against their oppressors. Assassination was an event of daily occurrence. Many Normans suddenly disap- peared, leaving no trace. The corpses of many were found bearing the marks of violence. Death by torture was denounced against the murderers, and strict search was made for them, but generall}^ in vain ; for the whole nation was in a conspiracy to screen them. It was at length thought necessary to lay a heavy fine on every hundred in which a person of French extraction should be found slain ; and this regulation was followed up by another regulation, providing that every person who was found slain should be supposed to be a French- man, unless he was proved to be a Saxon. During the century and a half which followed the Conquest, there is, to speak strictly, no English his- tory. The French Kings of England rose, indeed, to an eminence which was the wonder and dread of all neighboring nations. They conquered Ireland. They received the homage of Scotland. By their valor, by their policy, by their fortunate matrimonial alliances, the}^ became far more powerful on the Continent than their liege lords the Kings of France. Asia, as well as Europe, was dazzled by the power and glory of our tyrants. Arabian chroniclers recorded with unwilling admiration the fall of Acre, the defence of Joppa, and the victorious march to Ascalon ; and Arabian mothers long awed their infants to silence with the name of the lion-hearted Plantagenet. At one time it seemed that 1 6 History of England the line of Hugh Capet was about to end as the Merovingian and Carlovingian lines had ended, and that a single great monarchy would spread from the Orkneys to the Pyrenees. So strong an association is established in most minds between the greatness of a sovereign and the greatness of the nation which he rules, that almost every historian of England has ex- patiated with a sentiment of exultation on the power and splendor of her foreign masters, and has lamented the decay of that power and splendor as a calamity to our countr>^ This is, in truth, as absurd as it would be in a Haytian negro of our time to dwell with national pride on the greatness of Lewis the Four- teenth, and to speak of Blenheim and Ramilies with patriotic regret and "shame. The Conqueror and his descendants to the fourth generation were not English- men : most of them were born in France : they spent the greater part of their lives in France : their ordinary speech was French : almost every high ofi&ce in their gift was filled by a Frenchman : everj^ acquisition which they made on the Continent estranged them more and more from the population of our island. One of the ablest among them, indeed, attempted to win the hearts of his English subjects by espousing an English princess. But, by many of his barons, this marriage was regarded as a marriage between a white planter and a quadroon girl would now be regarded in Vir- ginia. In history he is known by the honorable sur- name of Beauclerc ; but, in his own time, his own countrymen called him by a Saxon nickname, in con- temptuous allusion to his Saxon connection. Had the Plantagenets, as at one time seemed likely, succeeded in uniting all France under their govern- Before the Restoration 17 ment, it is probable that England would never have had an independent existence. Her princes, her lords, her prelates, would have been men differing in race and language from the artisans and the tillers of the earth. The revenues of her great proprietors would have been spent in festivities and diversions on the banks of the Seine. The noble language of Milton and Burke would have remained a rustic dialect, without a literature, a fixed grammar, or a fixed orthography, and would have been contemptuously abandoned to the use of boors. No man of English extraction would have risen to emi- nence, except by becoming in speech and habits a Frenchman. England owes her escape from such calamities to an event which her historians have generally represented r as disastrous. Her interest was so directly Separation of -' England and opposcd to the interest of her rulers that she Normandy. -^^^ ^^ hopc but in their errors and mis- fortunes. The talents and even the virtues of her first six French kings were a curse to her. The follies and vices of the seventh were her salvation. Had John inherited the great qualities of his father, of Henr3^ Beauclerc, or of the Conqueror, nay, had he even possessed the martial courage of Stephen or of Richard, and had the King of France at the same time been as incapable as all the other successors of Hugh Capet had been, the House of Plantagenet must have risen to un- rivalled ascendency in Europe. But, just at this con- juncture, France, for the f i-st time since the death of Charlemagne, was governed by a prince of great firm- ness and ability. On the other hand, England, which, since the battle of Hastings, had been ruled generally by wise statesmen, always by brave soldiers, fell under VOL I- 1 8 History of England the dominion of a trifler and a coward. From that moment her prospects brightened. John was driven from Normandy. The Norman nobles were compelled to make their election between the island and the Con- tinent. Shut up by the sea with the people whom they had hitherto oppressed and despised, they gradually came to regard England as their countrj^ and the Eng- lish as their countr3aiien. The two races, so long hos- tile, soon found that they had common interests and common enemies. Both were alike aggrieved by the tyranny of a bad king. Both were alike indignant at the favor shown b}- the court to the natives of Poitou and Aquitaine. The great-grandsons of those who had fought under William, and the great-grandsons of those who had fought under Harold, began to draw near to each other in friendship ; and the first pledge of their reconciliation was the Great Charter, won by their united exertions, and framed for their common benefit. Here commences the history of the English nation. The histor)^ of the preceding events is the history of wrongs inflicted and sustained by various tio^^^rTc^es tribcs, wliicli indeed all dwelt on English ground, but which regarded each other with aversion such as has scarcely ever existed between communities separated by physical barriers. For even the mutual animosity of countries at war with each other is languid when compared with the animosity of nations which, morally separated, are yet locally inter- mingled. In no country has the enmity of race been carried farther than in England. In no country has that enmity been more completely effaced. The stages of the process by which the hostile elements were melted down into one homogeneous mass are not ac- William the Co7iqueror From an engraving by G. Vertue William the Conqueror From an engraving by G. Vertue Betore the Restoration 19 curately known to us. But it is certain that, when John became king, the distinction between Saxons and Normans was strongly marked, and that before the end of the reign of his grandson it had ahnost disappeared. In the time of Richard the First, the ordinar>- impreca- tion of a Norman gentleman was, ' ' May I become an Englishman ! " His ordinary form of indignant denial was, " Do you take me for an Englishman?" The descendant of such a gentleman a hundred years later was proud of the English name. The sources of the noblest rivers which spread fer- tility over continents, and bear richly laden fleets to the sea, are to be sought in wild and barren mountain tracts, incorrectly laid down in maps, and rarely ex- plored by travellers. To such a tract the histor>^ of our country during the thirteenth century may not un- aptly be compared. Sterile and obscure as is that por- tion of our annals, it is there that we must seek for the origin of our freedom, our prosperity, and our glory. Then it was that the great English people was formed, that the national character began to exhibit those pe- culiarities which it has ever since retained, and that our fathers became emphatically islanders, islanders not merely in geographical position, but in their poli- tics, their feelings, and their manners. Then first appeared with distinctness that constitution which has ever since, through all changes, preserv^ed its identity ; that constitution of which all the other free constitu- tions in the world are copies, and which, in spite of some defects, deserves to be regarded as the best under which any great society has ever yet existed during many ages. Then it was that the House of Commons, the archetype of all the representative assemblies which 20 History of England now meet, either in the old or in the new world, held its first sittings. Then it was that the common law rose to the dignity of a science, and rapidly became a not unworthy rival of the imperial jurisprudence. Then it was that the courage of those sailors who manned the rude barks of the Cinque Ports first made the flag of England terrible on the seas. Then it was that the most ancient colleges which still exist at both the great national seats of learning were founded. Then was formed that language, less musical indeed than the languages of the South, but in force, in richness, in aptitude for all the highest purposes of the poet, the philosopher, and the orator, inferior to the tongue of Greece alone. Then, too, appeared the first faint dawn of that noble literature, the most splendid and the most durable of the many glories of England. Early in the fourteenth century the amalgamation of the races was all but complete ; and it was soon made manifest, by signs not to be mistaken, that a people in- ferior to none existing in the world had been formed b}^ the mixture of three branches of the great Teutonic family with each other, and with the aboriginal Britons. There was, indeed, scarcely anything in common be- tween the England to which John had been chased by Philip Augustus, and the England from which the ar- mies of Edward the Third went forth to conquer France. A period of more than a hundred years followed, during which the chief object of the English was to establish, b\' force of arms, a great empire English ". ,^ o L conquests ou thc Continent. The claim of Edward to on the i]2Q inheritance occupied bv the House of Continent. . . . , .' . . , Valois was a clann in which it might seem that his subjects were little interested. But the passion Before the Restoration 21 for conquest spread fast from the prince to the people. The war diflfered wideh' from the wars which the Plan- tagenets of the twelfth century had waged against the descendants of Hugh Capet. For the success of Henry the Second, or of Richard the First, would have made England a province of France. The effect of the suc- cesses of Edward the Third and Henry the Fifth was to make France, for a time, a province of England. The disdain with which, in the twelfth century, the conquerors from the Continent had regarded the island- ers, was now retorted b}^ the islanders on the people of the Continent. Every yeoman from Kent to North- umberland valued himself as one of a race born for victory and dominion, and looked down with scorn on the nation before which his ancestors had trembled. Even those knights of Gascon}' and Guienne who had fought gallantly under the Black Prince were regarded by the English as men of an inferior breed, and were contemptuously excluded from honorable and lucrative commands. In no long time our ancestors altogether lost sight of the original ground of quarrel. They be- gan to consider the crown of France as a mere append- age to the crown of England ; and when, in violation of the ordinary law of succession, they transferred the crown of England to the House of Lancaster, they seem to have thought that the riglit of Richard the Second to the crown of France passed, as of course, to that house. The zeal and vigor which they displayed pre- sent a remarkable contrast to the torpor of the French, who were far more deeply interested in the event of the struggle. The most splendid victories recorded in the history of the Middle Ages were gained at this time, against great odds, by the English armies. Victories 22 History of England indeed they were of which a nation may justly be proud ; for they are to be attributed to the moral su- periority of the victors, a superiority which was most striking in the lowest ranks. The knights of England found worthy rivals in the knights of France. Chan- dos encountered an equal foe in Du Guesclin. But France had no infantry that dared to face the English bows and bills. A French king was brought prisoner to London. An English king was crowned at Paris. The banner of Saint George was carried far beyond the Pyrenees and the Alps. On the south of the Ebro the English won a great battle, which for a time decided the fate of Leon and Castile ; and the English Com- panies obtained a terrible pre-eminence among the bands of warriors who let out their weapons for hire to the princes and commonwealths of Italy. Nor were the arts of peace neglected by our fathers during that stirring period. While France was wasted by war, till she at length found in her own desolation a miserable defence against invaders, the English gathered in their harvests, adorned their cities, pleaded, traded, and studied in security. Many of our noblest architectural monuments belong to that age. Then rose the fair chapels of New College and of Saint George, the nave of Winchester and the choir of York, the spire of Salisbury and the majestic towers of Lin- coln. A copious and forcible language, formed b}'' an infusion of French into German, was now the common property of the aristocracy and of the people. Nor was it long before genius began io apply that admirable machine to worthy purposes. While English warriors, leaving behind them the devastated provinces of France, entered Valladolid in triumph, and spread The Battle of Crecy From an old print Before the Restoration 23 terror to the gates of Florence, English poets depicted in vivid tints all the wide variety of human manners and fortunes, and English thinkers aspired to know, or dared to doubt, where bigots had been content to wonder and to believe. The same age which pro- duced the Black Prince and Derby, Chandos and Hawkwood, produced also Geoffrey Chaucer and John Wycliffe. In so splendid and imperial a manner did the English people, properly so called, first take place among the nations of the world. Yet while we contemplate with pleasure the high and commanding qualities which our forefathers displayed, we cannot but admit that the end w^hich they pursued was an end condemned both by humanity and by enlightened polic}', and that the re- verses which compelled them, after a long and bloody struggle, to relinquish the hope of establishing a great continental empire, were really blessings in the guise of disasters. The spirit of the French was at last aroused : they began to oppose a vigorous national re- sistance to the foreign conquerors ; and from that time the skill of the English captains and the courage of the English soldiers were, happily for mankind, exerted in vain. After many desperate struggles, and with many bitter regrets, our ancestors gave up the contest. Since that age no British government has ever seriously and steadily pursued the design of making great conquests on the Continent. The people, indeed, continued to cherish with pride the recollection of Cressy, of Poitiers, and of Agincourt. Even after the lapse of many years, it was easy to fire their blood and to draw forth their subsidies by promising them an expedition for the con- quest of France. But happily the energies of our 24 History of England country have been directed to better objects ; and she now occupies in the history of mankind a place far more glorious than if she had, as at one time seemed not improbable, acquired by the sword an ascendency similar to that which formerly belonged to the Roman republic. Cooped up once more within the limits of the island, the warlike people employed in civil strife those arms which had been the terror of Europe. The RosIs.° ' ^ means of profuse expenditure had long been drawn by the English barons from the op- pressed provinces of France. That source of supply was gone : but the ostentatious and luxurious habits which prosperity had engendered still remained ; and the great lords, unable to gratify their tastes by plun- dering the French, were eager to plunder each other. The realm to which they were now confined would not, in the phrase of Comines, the most judicious observer of that time, suffice for them all. Two aristocratical factions, headed by two branches of the royal family, engaged in a long and fierce struggle for supremacy. As the animosity of those factions did not really arise from the dispute about the succession, it lasted long after all ground of dispute about the succession was removed. The party of the Red Rose survived the last prince who claimed the crown in right of Henry the Fourth. The party of the White Rose survived the marriage of Richmond and Elizabeth. Eeft without chiefs who had any decent show of right, the adherents o*" Tancaster rallied round a line of bastards, and the adherents of York set up a succession of impostors. When, at length, many aspiring nobles had perished on the field of battle or b}^ the hands of the executioner, Before the Restoration 25 when many illustrious houses had disappeared forever from history, when those great families which remained had been exhausted and sobered by calamities, it was universally acknowledged that the claims of all the contending Plantagenets were united in the House of Tudor. Meanwhile a change was proceeding infinitely more momentous than the acquisition or loss of Extinction • ,, ,, . r 11 r of villeinage, ^^y provHicc, than the rise or iall ot any dynasty. Slavery and the evils b>' which slaver}' is everywhere accompanied were fast dis- appearing. It is remarkable that the two greatest and most salu- tary- social revolutions which have taken place in Eng- land, that revolution which, in the thirteenth century, put an end to the tyranu}' of nation over nation, and that revolution w^hich, a few generations later, put an end to the property' of man in man, were silently and imperceptibly effected. They struck contemporary ob- servers with no surprise, and have received from his- torians a very scanty measure of attention. The>' were brought about neither b}' legislative regulation nor by physical force. Moral causes noiselessly effaced first the distinction between Norman and Saxon, and then the distinction between master and slave. None can venture to fix the precise moment at which either distinction ceased. Some faint traces of the old Norman feeling might perhaps have been found late in the fourteenth century. Some faint traces of the institution of \dlleinage were detected by the curious so late as the days of the Stuarts ; nor has that institution ever, to this hour, been abolished by statute. 26 History of England It would be most unjust not to acknowledge that the chief agent in these two great deliverances was relig- ion ; and it may perhaps be doubted whether ene cia purer relisfion misrht not have been found operation of ^ <=> ^ the Roman a less efficient agent. The benevolent spirit Catholic ^^ ^i^g Christian morality is undoubtedly ad- religion, ^ verse to distinctions of caste. But to the Church of Rome such distinctions are peculiarly odi- ous; for they are incompatible with other distinctions which are essential to her system. She ascribes to every priest a mysterious dignity which entitles him to the reverence of every laj^man ; and she does not con- sider any man as disqualified, by reason of his nation or of his family, for the priesthood. Her doctrines re- specting the sacerdotal character, however erroneous they may be, have repeatedly mitigated some of the wor.st evils which can afflict society. That superstition cannot be regarded as unmixedly noxious which, in regions cursed by the tyranny of race over race, creates an aristocracy altogether independent of race, inverts the relation between the oppressor and the oppressed, and compels the hereditary master to kneel before the spiritual tribunal of the hereditary bondman. To this day, in some countries where negro slavery exists, Popery appears in advantageous contrast to other forms of Christianity. It is notorious that the antipathy between the European and African races is by no means so strong at Rio Janeiro as at Washington. In our own country, this peculiarity of the Roman Catho- lic system produced, during the Middle Ages, many salutary effects. It is true that, shortly after the battle of Hastings, Saxon prelates and abbots were violently deposed, and that ecclesiastical adventurers from the Before the Restoration 27 Continent were intruded by hundreds into lucrative benefices. Yet even then pious divines of Norman blood raised their voices against such a violation of the constitution of the Church, refused to accept mitres from the hands of William, and charged him, on the peril of his soul, not to forget that the vanquished islanders were his fellow- Christians. The first pro- tector whom the English found among the dominant caste was Archbishop Anselm. At a time when the English name was a reproach, and when all the civil and militar}' dignities of the kingdom were supposed to belong exclusively to the countrymen of the Conqueror, the despised race learned, with transports of delight, that one of themselves, Nicholas Breakspear, had been elevated to the papal throne, and had held out his foot to be kissed by ambassadors sprung from the noblest houses of Normandy. It was a national as well as a religious feeling that drew great multitudes to the shrine of Becket, whom they regarded as the enemy of their enemies. Whether he was a Norman or a Saxon may be doubted ; but there is no doubt that he perished by Norman hands, and that the Saxons cherished his memor}^ with peculiar tenderness and veneration, and, in their popular poetr>', represented him as one of their own race. A successor of Becket was foremost among the refractory magnates who obtained that charter which secured the privileges both of the Norman barons and of the Saxon yeomanry. How great a part the Roman Catholic ecclesiastics subsequently had in the abolition of villeinage we learn from the unex- ceptionable testimony of Sir Thomas Smith, one of the ablest Protestant counsellors of Elizabeth. When the dying slave-holder asked for the last sacraments, his 28 History of England spiritual attendants regularly adjured him, as he loved his soul, to emancipate his brethren for whom Christ died. So successfully had the Church used her formid- able machinery that, before the Reformation came, she had enfranchised almost all the bondmen in the king- dom except her own, who, to do her justice, seem to have been very tenderly treated. There can be no doubt that, when these two great revolutions had been effected, our forefathers were by far the best governed people in Europe. During three hundred years the social system had been in a constant course of improvement. Under the first Plantagenets there had been barons able to bid defiance to the sov- ereign, and peasants degraded to the level of the swine and oxen which they tended. The exorbitant power of the baron had been gradually reduced. The con- dition of the peasant had been gradually elevated. Between the aristocrac>' and the working people had sprung up a middle class, agricultural and com- mercial. There was still, it may be, more inequality than is favorable to the happiness and virtue of our species : but no man was altogether above the restraints of law; and no man was altogether below its protection. That the political institutions of England w^ere, at this earh' period, regarded by the English with pride and affection, and by the most enlightened men of neigh- boring nations with admiration and envy, is proved by the clearest evidence. But touching the nature of those institutions there has been much dishonest and acrimonious controvers3\ The historical literature of England has indeed suffered grievously from a circumstance which has not Before the Restoration 29 a little contributed to her prosperity. The change, great as it is, which her polity has undergone during the last six centuries, has been the effect of gradual de- velopment, not of demoHtion and reconstruction. The The early present coustitution of our country is, to the English constitution under which she flourished mis'rrp°re^-^" ^^'^ huudrcd ycars ago, what the tree is to sented, and the Sapling, what the man is to the boy. The ^^^" alteration has been great. Yet there never was a moment at which the chief part of what existed was not old. A polity thus formed must abound in anomalies. But for the evils arising from mere anoma- lies we have ample compensation. Other societies possess written constitutions more symmetrical. But no other societ}- has yet succeeded in uniting revo- lution wdth prescription, progress with stability, the energy of youth with the majesty of immemorial antiquity. This great blessing, however, has its drawbacks: and one of those drawbacks is that every source of informa- tion as to our early history has been poisoned by part>' spirit. As there is no country where statesmen have been so much under the influence of the past, so there is no country where historians have been so much under the influence of the present. Between these two things, indeed, there is a natural connection. Where history is regarded merely as a picture of life and man- ners, or as a collection of experiments from which gen- eral maxims of civil wisdom may be drawn, a writer lies under no very pressing temptation to misrepresent transactions of ancient date. But where history is re- garded as a repository of title-deeds, on which the rights of governments and nations depend, the motive to falsi- 30 History of England fication becomes almost irresistible. A Frenchman is not now impelled by any strong interest either to ex- aggerate or to underrate the power of the kings of the House of Valois. The privileges of the States-general, of the States of Brittany, of the States of Burgundy, are to him matters of as little practical importance as the constitution of the Jewish Sanhedrim or of the Amphictyonic Council. The gulf of a great revolution completely separates the new from the old system. No such chasm divides the existence of the English nation into two distinct parts. Our laws and customs have never been lost in general and irreparable ruin. With us the precedents of the Middle Ages are still valid precedents, and are still cited, on the gravest occasions, by the most eminent statesmen. For example, when King George the Third was attacked by the malady which made him incapable of performing his regal functions, and when the most distinguished law^^ers and politicians differed widely as to the course which ought, in such circumstances, to be pursued, the Houses of Parliament would not proceed to discuss any plan of regency till all the precedents which were to be found in our annals, from the earliest times, had been col- lected and arranged. Committees were appointed to examine the ancient records of the realm. The first case reported was that of the year 1217 : much impor- tance was attached to the cases of 1326, of 1377, and of 1422 : but the case which was justly considered as most in point was that of 1455. Thus in our country the dearest interests of parties have frequently been staked on the results of the researches of antiquaries. The inevitable consequence was that our antiquaries con- ducted their researches in the spirit of partisans. Before the Restoration 31 It is, therefore, not surprising that those who have written concerning the Hmits of prerogative and Hberty in the old polity of England should generally have shown the temper, not of judges, but of angry and un- candid advocates. For they were discussing, not a speculative matter, but a matter which had a direct and practical connection with the most momentous and ex- citing disputes of their own day. From the commence- ment of the long contest between the Parliament and the Stuarts down to the time when the pretensions of the Stuarts ceased to be formidable, few questions were practically more important than the question whether the administration of that family had or had not been in accordance with the ancient constitution of the king- dom. This question could be decided only by reference to the records of preceding reigns. Bracton and Fleta, the Mirror of Justice and the Rolls of Parliament, were ransacked to find pretexts for the excesses of the Star- chamber on one side, and of the High Court of Justice on the other. During a long course of years every Whig historian was anxious to prove that the old Eng- lish government was all but republican, ever>^ Tory historian to prove that it was all but despotic. With such feelings, both parties looked into the chronicles of the Middle Ages. Both readily found what they sought ; and both obstinately refused to see anything but what they sought. The champions of the Stuarts could easily point out instances of oppression exercised on the subject. The defenders of the Round- heads could as easily produce instances of determined and successful resistance offered to the crown. The Tories quoted, from ancient writings, expressions almost as servile as were heard from the pulpit of o- History of England Mainwaring. The Whigs discovered expressions as bold and severe as any that resounded from the judg- ment-seat of Bradshaw. One set of writers adduced numerous instances in which kings had extorted money without the authority of Parliament. Another set cited cases in which the Parliament had assumed to itself the power of inflicting punishment on kings. Those who saw only one half of the evidence would have concluded that the Plantagenets were as absolute as the Sultans of Turkey : those who saw only the other half would have concluded that the Plantagenets had as little real power as the Doges of Venice ; and both conclusions would have been equally remote from the truth. The old English government was one of a class of limited monarchies which sprang up in Western Europe during the Middle Ages, and which, not- Natureofthe . ° . ^ limited mon- Withstanding many diversities, bore to one archies of the another a strong family likeness. That ' there should have been such a likeness is not strange. The countries in which those monarchies arose had been provinces of the same great civilized empire, and had been overrun and conquered, about the same time, by tribes of the same rude and warlike nation. They were members of the same great coali- tion against Islam. They were in communion with the same superb and ambitious Church. Their polity naturally took the same form. They had institutions derived partly from imperial Rome, partly from papal Rome, partly from the old Germany. All had kings ; and in all the kingly ofiice became by degrees strictly hereditar3^ All had nobles bearing titles which had originally indicated military rank. The dignity of Before the Restoration 33 knighthood, the rules of heraldry, were common to all. All had richly endowed ecclesiastical establishments, municipal corporations enjoying large franchises, and senates whose consent was necessary to the validity of some public acts. Of these kindred constitutions the English was, from an early period, justly reputed the best. The preroga- tives of the sovereign were undoubtedly ex- Prerogatives . ,^ _ of the early teusivc. The Spirit of religion and the English spirit of chivalr}^ concurred to exalt his dignity. The sacred oil had been poured on his head. It was no disparagement to the bravest and noblest knights to kneel at his feet. His person was inviolable. He alone was entitled to convoke the estates of the realm : he could at his pleasure dismiss them ; and his assent was necessary to all their legis- lative acts. He was the chief of the executive admin- istration, the sole organ of communication with foreign powers, the captain of the military and naval forces of the state, the fountain of justice, of mercy, and of honor. He had large powers for the regulation of trade. It was by him that money was coined, that weights and measures were fixed, that marts and havens were appointed. His ecclesiastical patronage was immense. His hereditary revenues, economically administered, sufficed to meet the ordinary charges of government. His own domains were of vast extent. He was also feudal lord paramount of the whole soil of his kingdom, and, in that capacity, possessed many lucrative and many formidable rights, which enabled him to annoy and depress those who thwarted him, and to enrich and aggrandize, without any cost to him- self, those who enjoyed his favor. VOL 1—3 34 History of England But his power, though ample, was limited by three great constitutional principles, so ancient that none r . ., ,. can say when they began to exist, so potent Limitations -^ jo ^ r ofthe prerog- that tlicir natural development, continued ^^^^^- through many generations, has produced the order of things under which we now live. First, the king could not legislate without the con- sent of his Parliament. Secondl}^, he could impose no tax without the consent of his Parliament. Thirdly, he was bound to conduct the executive administration according to the laws of the land, and, if he broke those laws, his advisers and his agents were responsible. No candid Tory will deny that these principles had, five hundred 3'ears ago, acquired the authority of fun- damental rules. On the other hand, no candid Whig will affirm that the}^ were, till a later period, cleared from all ambiguity, or followed out to all their conse- quences. A constitution of the Middle Ages was not, like a constitution of the eighteenth or nineteenth cen- tury, created entire by a single act, and fully set forth in a single document. It is only in a refined and speculative age that a polity is constructed on system. In rude societies the progress of government re- sembles the progress of language and of versification. Rude societies have language, and often copious and energetic language ; but they have no scientific gram- mar, no definitions of nouns and verbs, no names for declensions, moods, tenses, and voices. Rude societies have versification, and often versification of great power and sweetness : but they have no metrical canons ; and the minstrel whose numbers, regulated solely by his ear, are the delight of his audience, would himself be unable to say of how many dact3ds and trochees each Before the Restoration 35 of his lines consists. As eloquence exists before syn- tax, and song before prosod\', so government may exist in a high degree of excellence long before the limits of legislative, executive, and judicial power have been traced with precision. It was thus in our country. The line which bounded the royal prerogative, though in general sufficiently clear, had not everywhere been drawn with accuracy and distinctness. There was, therefore, near the bor- der, some debatable ground on which incursions and reprisals continued to take place, till, after ages of strife, plain and durable landmarks were at length set up. It may be instructive to note in what way, and to what extent, our ancient sovereigns were in the habit of violating the three great principles by which the liberties of the nation were protected. No English king has ever laid claim to the general legislative power. The most violent and imperious Plantagenet never fancied himself competent to enact, without the consent of his great council, that a jur>^ should consist of ten persons instead of twelve, that a widow's dower should be a fourth part instead of a third, that perjury should be a felon}', or that the custom of gavelkind should be introduced into York- shire.' But the king had the power of pardoning offenders ; and there is one point at which the power of pardoning and the power of legislating seem to fade into each other, and may easily, at least in a simple age, be con- founded. A penal statute is virtually annulled if the ' This is excellently put by Mr. Hallam in the first chapter of his Constitutional History. 36 History of England penalties which it imposes are regularly remitted as often as they are incurred. The sovereign was un- doubtedly competent to remit penalties without limit. He was, therefore, competent to annul virtually a penal statute. It might seem that there could be no serious objection to his doing formall}' what he might do vir- tually. Thus, with the help of subtle and courtly lawyers, grew up, on the doubtful frontier which sepa- rates executive from legislative functions, that great anomaly known as the dispensing power. That the king could not impose taxes without the consent of Parliament is admitted to have been, from time immemorial, a fundamental law of England. It was among the articles which John was compelled b}^ the Barons to sign. Kdward the First ventured to break through the rule ; but able, powerful, and popu- lar as he was, he encountered an opposition to which he found it expedient to }'ield. He covenanted accord- ingly in express terms, for himself and his heirs, that they would never again levy any aid without the assent and good-will of the estates of the realm. His powerful and victorious grandson attempted to violate this solemn compact ; but the attempt was strenuously withstood. At length the Plantagenets gave up the point in despair ; but, though they ceased to infringe the law openly, they occasionally contrived, by evad- ing it, to procure an extraordinary supply for a tem- porary purpose. They were interdicted from taxing ; but they claimed the right of begging and borrowing. The}^ therefore sometimes begged in a tone not easily to be distinguished from that of command, and some- times borrowed with small thought of repa^'ing. But the fact that they thought it necessary to disguise their Before the Restoration 2>7 exactions under the names of benevolences and loans sufficiently proves that the authority of the great con- stitutional rule was universally recognized. The principle that the King of England was bound to conduct the administration according to law, and that, if he did anything against law, his advisers and agents were answerable, was established at a very early period, as the severe judgments pronounced and executed on many royal favorites sufficiently prove. It is, however, certain that the rights of individuals were often violated by the Plantagenets, and that the injured parties were often unable to obtain redress. According to law, no Englishman could be arrested or detained in confine- ment merely bj^ the mandate of the sovereign. In fact, persons obnoxious to the government were frequently imprisoned wdthout any other authority than a royal order. According to law, torture, the disgrace of the Roman jurisprudence, could not, in any circumstances, be inflicted on an English subject. Nevertheless, during the troubles of the fifteenth centu^>^ a rack was introduced into the Tower, and was occasionally used under the plea of political necessity. But it would be a great error to infer from such irregularities that the English monarchs were, either in theory or in practice, absolute. We live in a highly civilized society, through which intelligence is so rapidly diffused by means of the press and of the post-office that any gross act of oppression committed in any part of our island is, in a few hours, discussed by millions. If the sovereign were now to immure a subject in defiance of the writ of Habeas Corpus, or to put a conspirator to the tor- ture, the whole nation would be instantly electrified by the news. In the Middle Ages the state of society was o 8 History of England widely different. Rarely and with great difficulty did the wrongs of individuals come to the knowledge of the public. A man might be illegally confined during many months in the castle of Carlisle or Norwich, and no whisper of the transaction might reach London. It is highly probable that the rack had been many years in use before the great majority of the nation had the least suspicion that it was ever employed. Nor were our ancestors b}' an}- means so much alive as we are to the importance of maintaining great general rules. We have been taught by long experience that we can- not without danger suffer any breach of the constitution to pass unnoticed. It is, therefore, now universally held that a government which unnecessarily exceeds its powers ought to be visited with severe parliamentary censure, and that a government which, under the pres- sure of a great exigenc}^ and with pure intentions, has exceeded its powers, ought without delay to apply to Parliament for an act of indemnity. But such were not the feelings of the Englishmen of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. They were little disposed to con- tend for a principle merely as a principle, or to cry out against an irregularity which was not also felt to be a grievance. As long as the general spirit of the admin- istration was mild and popular, they were willing to allow some latitude to their sovereign. If, for ends generally acknowledged to be good, he exerted a vigor beyond the law, they not onl}' forgave, but applauded him, and, while the}- enjoyed security and prosperity under his rule, were but too ready to believe that whoever had incurred his displeasure had deserv^ed it. But to this indulgence there was a limit ; nor was that king wise who presumed far on the forbearance of the Before the Restoration 39 English people. They might sometimes allow him to overstep the constitutional line ; but they also claimed the privilege of overstepping that line themselves, whenever his encroachments were so serious as to ex- cite alarm. If, not content with occasionally oppress- ing individuals, he dared to oppress great masses, his subjects- promptl}^ appealed to the laws, and, that appeal failing, appealed as promptly to the God of battles. Our forefathers might indeed safely tolerate a king in a few excesses ; for they had in reserve a check which soon brought the fiercest and proudest king an ordfnar/ ^^ rcasou — the chcck of physical force. It is check on tyr- difficult for an Englishman of the nineteenth Middie°A^es ccutur}^ to imagine to himself the facility and rapidit}^ with which, four hundred years ago, this check was applied. The people have long unlearned the use of arms. The art of war has been carried to a perfection unknown to former ages ; and the knowledge of that art is confined to a particular class. A hundred thousand soldiers, well disciplined and commanded, will keep down ten millions of plough- men and artisans. A few regiments of household troops are sufficient to overawe all the discontented spirits of a large capital. In the meantime the effect of the con- stant progress of wealth has been to make insurrection far more terrible to thinking men than maladministra- tion. Immense sums have been expended on works which, if a rebellion broke out, might perish in a few hours. The mass of movable wealth collected in the shops and warehouses of London alone exceeds five hundred-fold that which the whole island contained in the days of the Plantagenets ; and, if the government 40 History of England were subverted by physical force, all this movable wealth would be exposed to imminent risk of spoliation and destruction. Still greater would be the risk to public credit, on which thousands of families directly depend for subsistence, and with which the credit of the whole commercial world is inseparabU* connected. It is no exaggeration to say that a civil war of a week on Kuglish ground would now produce disasters which would be felt from the Hoangho to the Missouri, and of which the traces would be discernible at the distance of a century. In such a state of society resistance must be regarded as a cure more desperate than almost any malady which can afflict the state. In the Middle Ages, on the contrary, resistance was an ordinary remedy for political distempers — a remedy which was alwaj'-s at hand, and which, though doubtless sharp at the moment, produced no deep or lasting ill effects. If a popular chief raised his standard in a popular cause, an irregular army could be assembled in a day. Regular army there was none. Every man had a slight tincture of soldiership, and scarcely any man more than a slight tincture. The national wealth consisted chiefly in flocks and herds, in the harvest of the j^ear, and in the simple buildings inhabited by the people. All the furniture, the stock of shops, the machinery which could be found in the realm, was of less value than the prop- erty which some single parishes now contain. Manu- factures were rude ; credit was almost unknown. Society, therefore, recovered from the shock as soon as the actual conflict was over. The calamities of civil war were confined to the slaughter on the field of battle, and to a few subsequent executions and con- fiscations. In a week the peasant was driving his team Before the Restoration 41 and the esquire flying his hawks over the field of Tow- ton or of Bosworth, as if no extraordinary event had interrupted the regular course of human life. More than a hundred and sixty years have now elapsed since the English people have by force sub- verted a government. During the hundred and sixty years which preceded the union of the Roses, nine kings reigned in England. Six of these kings were deposed. Five lost their lives as well as their crowns. It is evident, therefore, that any comparison between our ancient and our modern polity must lead to most erroneous conclusions, unless large allowance be made for the effect of that restraint which resistance and the fear of resistance constantly imposed on the Plantage- nets. As our ancestors had against tyranny a most important security which w^e want, they might safely dispense with some securities to which we justly attach the highest importance. As we cannot, without the risk of evils from which the imagination recoils, employ phj^sical force as a check on misgovernment, it is evi- dently our wisdom to keep all the constitutional checks on misgovernment in the highest state of efficienc3% to watch with jealousy the first beginnings of encroach- ment, and never to suffer irregularities, even when harmless in themselves, to pass unchallenged, lest they acquire the force of precedents. Four hundred years ago such minute vigilance might well seem unneces- sary. A nation of hardy archers and spearmen might, with small risk to its liberties, connive at some illegal acts on the part of a prince whose general administra- tion was good, and whose throne was not defended by a single company of regular soldiers. Under this system, rude as it may appear when com- 4- History of England pared with those elaborate constitutions of which the last sevent}' years have been fruitful, the English long enjo3-ed. a large measure of freedom and happiness. Though, during the feeble reign of Henry the Sixth, the state was torn, first by factions, and at length b}' civil war ; though Edward the Fourth was a prince of dissolute and imperious character ; though Richard the Third has generally been represented as a monster of depravity; though the exactions of Henr}^ the Seventh caused great repining — it is certain that our ancestors, under those kings, were far better governed than the Belgians under Philip, surnamed the Good, or the French under that Lewis, who was styled the Father of his people. Even while the wars of the Roses were actually raging, our country appears to have been in a happier condition than the neighboring realms during years of profound peace. Comines was one of the most enlightened statesmen of his time. He had seen all the richest and most highly civilized parts of the Continent. He had lived in the opulent towns of Flanders, the Manchesters and Liverpools of the fifteenth century. He had visited Florence, recently adorned by the mag- nificence of Lorenzo, and Venice, not yet humbled by the confederates of Cambray. This eminent man de- liberately pronounced England to be the best governed country of which he had any knowledge. Her consti- tution he emphatically designated as a just and holy thing, which, while it protected the people, really strengthened the hands of a prince who respected it. In no other country, he said, were men so effectually secured from wrong. The calamities produced by our intestine wars seemed to him to be confined to the nobles and the fighting men, and to leave no traces Before the Restoration 43 such as he had been accustomed to see elsewhere, no ruined dweUings, no depopulated cities. It was not only by the efficiency of the restraints im- posed on the royal prerogative that England was ad- vantageously distinguished from most of Peculiar ^_ - ^ character of the neighboring countries. A peculiarity the English equallv important, though less noticed, \vas aristocracy. . ' c^ the relation m which the nobility stood here to the commonalty. There was a strong heredi- tary aristocracy ; but it was of all hereditar}^ aris- tocracies the least insolent and exclusive. It had none of the invidious character of a caste. It was constantly receiving members from the people, and constantly sending down members to mingle with the people. Any gentleman might become a peer. The younger son of a peer was but a gentleman. Grand- sons of peers yielded precedence to newly made knights. The dignity of knighthood was not beyond the reach of any man who could by diligence and thrift realize a good estate, or who could attract notice by his valor in a battle or a siege. It was regarded as no disparage- ment for the daughter of a duke, nay, of a royal duke, to espouse a distinguished commoner. Thus, Sir John Howard married the daughter of Thomas Mow^bray, Duke of Norfolk. Sir Richard Pole married the Coun- tess of Salisbury, daughter of George, Duke of Clarence. Good blood was indeed held in high respect: but be- tween good blood and the privileges of peerage there was, most fortunately for our country, no necessary connection. Pedigrees as long and scutcheons as old, were to be found out of the House of Lords as in it. There were new men who bore the highest titles. There were untitled men well known to be descended 44 History of England from knights who had broken the Saxon ranks at Hast- ings, and scaled the walls of Jerusalem. There were Bohuns, Mowbrays, De Veres, nay, kinsmen of the House of Plantagenet, with no higher addition than that of esquire, and with no civil privileges beyond those enjoyed by every farmer and shopkeeper. There was, therefore, here no line like that which in some other countries divided the patrician from the plebeian. The yeoman was not inclined to murmur at dignities to which his own children might rise. The grandee was not inclined to insult a class into which his own children must descend. After the wars of York and Lancaster, the links which connected the nobility and the commonalty be- came closer and more numerous than ever. The ex- tent of the destruction which had fallen on the old aristocracy may be inferred from a single circumstance. In the year 145 1 Henry the Sixth summoned fifty- three temporal lords to Parliament. The temporal lords summoned by Henry the Seventh to the Parlia- ment of 1485 were only twent^^-nine, and of these several had recently been elevated to the peerage. During the following century the ranks of the nobilit}'- were largely recruited from among the gentry. The constitution of the House of Commons tended greatly to promote the salutary intermixture of classes. The knight of the shire was the connecting link between the baron and the shopkeeper. On the same benches on which sat the goldsmiths, drapers, and grocers, who had been returned to Parliament by the commercial towns, sat also members who, in any other country, would have been called noblemen, hereditary lords of manors, entitled to hold courts and to bear coat-armor, Before the Restoration 45 and able to trace back an honorable descent through many generations. Some of them were younger sons and brothers of lords. Others could boast of even royal blood. At length the eldest son of an Earl of Bedford, called in courtesy by the second title of his father, offered himself as candidate for a seat in the House of Commons, and his example was followed by others. Seated in that house, the heirs of the great peers naturally became as zealous for its privileges as any of the humble burgesses with whom they were mingled. Thus our democracy was, from an early period, the most aristocratic, and our aristocracy the most demo- cratic in the world — a peculiarit}^ which has lasted down to the present day, and which has produced many important moral and political effects. The government of Henry the Seventh, of his son, and of his grandchildren was, on the whole, more arbi- trar}- than that of the Plantagenets. Per- ofThe Tudor ^oual character may in some degree explain the difference ; for courage and force of will were common to all the men and women of the House of Tudor. They exercised their power during a period of a hundred and twent}^ years, always with vigor, often with violence, sometimes with cruelty. They, in imi- tation of the dynasty which had preceded them, occa- sionally invaded the rights of the subject, occasionally exacted taxes under the name of loans and gifts, and occasionally dispensed with penal statutes; nay, though they never presumed to enact any permanent law by their own authority, they occasionally took upon themselves, when Parliament was not sitting, to meet temporary exigiencies by temporary edicts. It was, however, impossible for the Tudors to carry oppression 46 History of England beyoud a certain point ; for they had no armed force, and they were surrounded by an armed people. Their palace was guarded by a few domestics, whom the array of a single shire, or of a single ward of London, could with ease have overpowered. These haughty princes, were, therefore, under a restraint stronger than any which mere law can impose, under a restraint which did not, indeed, prevent them from sometimes treating an individual in an arbitrary and even in a barbarous manner, but which effectually secured the nation against general and long-continued oppression. They might safely be tyrants within the precinct of the court : but it was necessary for them to watch with constant anxiety the temper of the country. Henry the Eighth, for example, encountered no opposition when he wished to send Buckingham and Surrej^ Anne Boleyn, and Lady Salisbury, to the scaffold. But when, without the consent of Parliament, he demanded of his subjects a contribution amounting to one sixth of their goods, he soon found it necessary to retract. The cr^^ of hun- dreds of thousands was that they were English and not French, freemen and not slaves. In Kent the roj^al commissioners fled for their liv^es. In Suffolk four thousand men appeared in amis. The King's lieuten- ants in that county vainly exerted themselves to raise an arm3\ Those who did not join in the insurrection declared that they would not fight against their brethren in such a quarrel. Henry, proud and self-willed as he was, shrank, not without reason, from a conflict with the roused spirit of the nation. He had before his eyes the fate of his predecessors who had perished at Berkeley and Pomfret. He not only cancelled his illegal com- missions ; he not only granted a general pardon to all Before the Restoration 47 the malcontents ; but he publicly and solemnly apolo- gized for his infraction of the laws. His conduct, on this occasion, well illustrates the w4iole policy of his house. The temper of the princes of that line was hot, and their spirit high : but they understood the character of the nation which they governed, and never once, like some of their prede- cessors, and some of their successors, carried obstinacy to a fatal point. The discretion of the Tudors was such that their power, though it was often resisted, was never subverted. The reign of every one of them was disturbed by formidable discontents : but the govern- ment was always able either to soothe the mutineers, or to conquer and punish them. Sometimes, by timely concessions, it succeeded in averting civil hostilities ; but in general it stood firm, and called for help on the nation. The nation obeyed the call, rallied round the sovereign, and enabled him to quell the disaffected minority. Thus, from the age of Henr3'- the Third to the age of Elizabeth, England grew and flourished under a polity which contained the germ of our present insti- tutions, and which, though not very exactly defined, or very exactly observed, was j^et effectualh' prevented from degenerating into despotism, by the awe in which the governors stood of the spirit and strength of the governed. But such a polity is suited only to a particular stage in the progress of society. The same causes which produce a division of labor in the peaceful arts nmst at length make war a distinct science and a distinct trade. A time arrives when the use of arms begins to occupy the entire attention of a separate class. It soon appears 4S History of England that peasants and burghers, however brave, are unabh to stand their ground against veteran soldiers, whos< whole life is a preparation for the day of battle, whos( nerves have been braced by long familiarity wit! danger, and whose movements have all the precisior of clockwork. It is found that the defence of nation! can no longer be safely intrusted to warriors taken fron the plough or the loom for a campaign of fort}^ days If any state forms a great regular army, the bordering states must imitate the example, or must submit to a foreign yoke. But, where a great regular army exists, limited monarchy, such as it was in the Middle Ages, can exist no longer. The sovereign is at once emanci- pated from what had been the chief restraint on hij power ; and he inevitabh' becomes absolute, unless he is subjected to checks such as would be superfluous in a societ}' where all are soldiers occasionally, and none permanently. With the danger came also the means of escape. In the monarchies of the Middle Ages the power of the sword belonged to the prince; but the power Limited mon- ^ r > sr archies of the of the purse belonged to the nation and the Middle Ages progrcss of civilizatiou, as it made the sword P'cncrQ.llv ^ turned into of the priucc morc and more formidable tc absolute i]jq natiou, made the purse of the nation monarchies. , , . ^^. more and more necessary to the pnnce. His hereditary revenues would no longer sufiSce, even foi the expenses of civil government. It was utterly im- possible that, without a regular and extensive system of taxation, he could keep in constant efiiciency a great body of disciplined troops. The policy which the par- liamentar}' assemblies of Europe ought to have adopted was to take their stand firmly on their constitutional Before the Restoration 49 right to give or withhold money, and resolutely to re- fuse funds for the support of armies, till ample securi- ties had been provided against despotism. This \\dse policy was followed in our country alone. In the neighboring kingdoms great militar}- establish- ments were formed : no new safeguards for public liberty were devised ; and the consequence was, that the old parliamentary institutions everywhere ceased to exist. In France, where they had always been feeble, they languished, and at length died of mere weakness. In Spain, where they had been as strong as in any part of Europe, they struggled fiercely for life, but struggled too late. The mechanics of Toledo and Valladolid vainly defended the privileges of the Castilian Cortes against the veteran battalions of Charles the Fifth. As vainly, in the next generation, did the citizens of Saragossa stand up against Philip the Second for the old Constitution of Aragon. One after another, the great national councils of the continental monarchies, councils once scarceh^ less proud and powerful than those which sat at Westminster, sank into utter insig- nificance. If they met, they met merely as our Convo- cation now meets, to go through some venerable forms. In England events took a different course. This singular felicity she owed chiefl}' to her insular situa- tion. Before the end of the fifteenth cen- The English monarchy a tury great military establishments were singular ex- indispcusable to the dignity, and even to the safety, of the French and Castilian monarchies. If either of those two powers had dis- armed, it would soon have been compelled to submit to the dictation of the other. But England, protected by the sea against invasion, and rarely engaged in warlike 50 History of England operations on the Continent, was not, as yet, under the necessity of employing regular troops. The sixteenth centur}', the seventeenth century, found her still with- out a standing army. At the commencement of the seventeenth century political science had made con- siderable progress. The fate of the Spanish Cortes and of the French States-general had given solemn warning to our parliaments ; and our parliaments, fully aware of the nature and magnitude of the danger, adopted, in good time, a system of tactics which, after a contest protracted through three generations, was at length successful. Almost every writer who has treated of that contest has been desirous to show that his own party was the part}^ which was struggling to preserve the old consti- tution unaltered. The truth, however, is that the old constitution could not be preserved unaltered. A law, beyond the control of human wisdom, had decreed that there should no longer be governments of that peculiar class which, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, had been common throughout Europe. The question, therefore, was not whether our polity should undergo a change, but what the nature of the change should be. The introduction of a new and mighty force had dis- turbed the old equilibrium, and had turned one limited monarch}" after another into an absolute monarchy. What had happened elsewhere would assuredly have happened here, unless the balance had been redressed b}" a great transfer of powder from the crown to the Par- liament. Our princes were about to have at their com- mand means of coercion such as no Plantagenet or Tudor had ever possessed. They must inevitably have become despots, unless they had been, at the same Before the Restoration 51 time, placed under restraints to which no Plantageuet or Tudor had ever been subject. It seems certain, therefore, that, had none but politi- cal causes been at work, the seventeenth century would The Reform- ^^^ havc passcd away without a fierce con- ation and its flict between our kings and their parlia- ^'^*^" ments. But other causes of perhaps greater potency contributed to produce the same effect. While the government of the Tudors was in its highest vigor, an event took place which has colored the destinies of all Christian nations, and in an especial manner the destinies of England. Twice during the Middle Ages the mind of Europe had risen up against the domina- tion of Rome. The first insurrection broke out in the South of France. The energy of Innocent the Third, the zeal of the young orders of Francis and Dominic, and the ferocit}' of the Crusaders whom the priesthood let loose on an unwarlike population, crashed the Albigensian churches. The second reformation had its origin in England, and spread to Bohemia. The Council of Constance, by removing some ecclesiastical disorders which had given scandal to Christendom, and the princes of Europe, by unsparingly using fire and sword against the heretics, succeeded in arresting and turning back the movement. Nor is this much to be lamented. The sympathies of a Protestant, it is true, will naturally be on the side of the Albigensians and of the Lollards. Yet an enlightened and temperate Protestant will perhaps be disposed to doubt whether the success, either of the Albigensians or of the Lollards, would, on the whole, have promoted the happiness and virtue of mankind. Corrupt as the Church of Rome was, there is reason to believe that, if that Church had 52 History of England been overthrown in the twelfth or even in the fourteenth century, the vacant space would have been occupied by some system more corrupt still. There was then, through the greater part of Europe, very little knowl- edge ; and that little was confined to the clergy. Not one man in five hundred could have spelled his way through a psalm. Books were few and costly. The art of printing was unknown. Copies of the Bible, in- ferior in beauty and clearness to those which every cot- tager may now command, sold for prices which many priests could not afford to give. It was obviously im- possible that the laity should search the Scriptures for themselves. It is probable, therefore, that, as soon as they had put off one spiritual yoke, they would have put on another, and that the power lately exercised by the clergy of the Church of Rome would have passed to a far worse class of teachers. The sixteenth century was comparatively a time of light. Yet even in the sixteenth century a considerable number of those who quitted the old religion followed the first confident and plausible guide who offered himself, and were soon led into errors far more serious than those which they had renounced. Thus Matthias and Kniperdoling, apostles of lust, rob- bery, and murder, were able for a time to rule great cities. In a darker age such false prophets might have founded empires ; and Christianity might have been distorted into a cruel and licentious superstition, more noxious, not only than Popery, but even than Islamism. About a hundred years after the rising of the Coun- cil of Constance, that great change emphatically called the Reformation began. The fulness of time was now come. The clergy were no longer the sole or the chief depositories of knowledge. The invention of Before the Restoration 53 printing had furnished the assailants of the Church with a mighty weapon which had been wanting to their predecessors. The study of the ancient writers, the rapid development of the powers of the modern lan- guages, the unprecedented activity which was displayed in every department of literature, the political vState of Europe, the vices of the Roman court, the exactions of the Roman chancery, the jealousy with which the wealth and privileges of the clergy were naturally re- garded by laymen, the jealous}^ with which the Italian ascendency was naturally regarded by men born on our side of the Alps — all these things gave to the teachers of the new theology an advantage which they perfectly understood how to use. Those who hold that the influence of the Church of Rome in the Dark Ages was, on the whole, beneficial to mankind may yet wdth perfect consistency regard the Reformation as an inestimable blessing. The lead- ing-strings, which preserve and uphold the infant, would impede the full-grown man. And so the very means by which the human mind is, in one stage of its progress, supported and propelled, may, in another stage, be mere hindrances. There is a season in the life, both of an individual and of a society, at which submission and faith, such as at a later period would be justly called servility and credulity, are useful quali- ties. The child who teachably and undoubtingly lis- tens to the instructions of his elders is likel}' to improve rapidly. But the man who should receive with child- like docility every assertion and dogma uttered by another man no wiser than himself would become contemptible. It is the same with communities. The childhood of the European nations was passed under 54 History of England the tutelage of the clergy. The ascendency of the sacerdotal order was long the ascendency which natu- rally and properly belongs to intellectual superiority. The priests, with all their faults, were by far the wisest portion of society. It was, therefore, on the whole, good that they should be respected and obeyed. The encroachments of the ecclesiastical power on the pro- vince of the civil power produced much more happiness than misery, while the ecclesiastical power was in the hands of the only class that had studied history, philos- ophy, and public law, and while the civil power was in the hands of savage chiefs, who could not read their own grants and edicts. But a change took place. Knowledge gradually spread among laymen. At the commencement of the sixteenth century many of them were in every intellectual attainment fully equal to the most enlightened of their spiritual pastors. Thence- forward that dominion, which, during the Dark Ages, had been, in spite of many abuses, a legitimate and salutary guardianship, became an unjust and noxious tyranny. From the time when the barbarians overran the Western Empire to the time of the revival of letters, the influence of the Church of Rome had been generally favorable to science, to civilization, and to good gov- ernment. But, during the last three centuries, to stunt the growth of the human mind has been her chief ob- ject. Throughout Christendom, whatever advance has been made in knowledge, in freedom, in wealth, and in the arts of life, has been made in spite of her, and has everywhere been in inverse proportion to her power. The loveliest and most fertile provinces of Europe have, under her rule, been sunk in poverty, in Before the Restoration 55 political servitude, and in intellectual torpor ; while Protestant countries, once proverbial for sterility and barbarism, have been turned, by skill and industry, into gardens, and can boast of a long list of heroes and statesmen, philosophers and poets. Whoever, knowing what Ital}' and Scotland naturally are, and what, four hundred years ago, they actuall}^ were, shall now com- pare the country round Rome with the country round Edinburgh, will be able to form some judgment as to the tendency of Papal domination. The descent of Spain, once the first among monarchies, to the lowest depths of degradation, the elevation of Holland, in spite of many natural disadvantages, to a position such as no commonwealth so small has ever reached, teach the same lesson. Whoever passes in Germany from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant principality, in Switzer- land from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant canton, in Ireland from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant county, finds that he has passed from a lower to a higher grade of civilization. On the other side of the Atlantic the same law prevails. The Protestants of the United States have left far behind them the Roman Catholics of jNIexico, Peru, and Brazil. The Roman Catholics of I^ower Canada remain inert, while the whole conti- nent round them is in a ferment with Protestant activity and enterprise. The French have doubtless shown an energy and an intelligence which, even when mis- directed, have justly entitled them to be called a great people. But this apparent exception, when examined, will be found to confirm the rule ; for in no country that is called Roman Catholic has the Roman Catholic Church, during several generations, possessed so little authority as in France. The literature of France is 56 History of England justly held in high esteem throughout the world. But if we deduct from that literature all that belongs to four parties which have been, on different grounds, in rebellion against the Papal domination, all that be- longs to the Protestants, all that belongs to the assert ors of the Gallican liberties, all that belongs to the Jansen- ists, and all that belongs to the philosophers, how much will be left ? It is difficult to say whether England owes more to the Roman Catholic religion than to the Reformation. For the amalgamation of races and for the abolition of villeinage, she is chiefly indebted to the influence which the priesthood, in the Middle Ages, exercised over the laity. For political and intellectual freedom, and for all the blessings which political and intellectual freedom have brought in their train, she is chiefly in- debted to the great rebellion of the laity against the preisthood. The struggle between the old and the new theology in our country was long, and the event sometimes seemed doubtful. There were two extreme parties, prepared to act with violence or to suffer with stubborn resolution. Between them lay, during a considerable time, a middle party, which blended, very illogically, but by no means unnaturall}^ lessons learned in the nursery with the sermons of the modern evangelists, and, while clinging with fondness to old observances, yet detested abuses with which those observances were closely connected. Men in such a frame of mind were willing to obey, almost with thankfulness, the dictation of an able ruler who spared them the trouble of judging for themselves, and, raising a firm and commanding voice above the uproar of controversy, told them how Before the Restoration 57 to worship and what to believe. It is not strange, therefore, that the Tudors should have been able to exercise a great influence on ecclesiatical affairs ; nor is it strange that their influence should, for the most part, have been exercised with a view to their own interest. Henry the Eighth attempted to constitute an Angli- can Church differing from the Roman Catholic Church on the point of the supremacy, and on that point alone. His success in this attempt was extraordinary. The force of his character, the singularly favorable situation in which he stood with respect to foreign powers, the immense wealth which the spoliation of the abbeys placed at his disposal, and the support of that class which still halted between two opinions, enabled him to bid defiance to both the extreme parties, to burn as heretics those who avowed the tenets of the Reformers, and to hang as traitors those who owned the authority of the Pope. But Henry's S3^stera died with him. Had his life been prolonged, he would have found it difficult to maintain a position assailed with equal fury by all who were zealous either for the new or for the old opinions. The ministers who held the royal preroga- tives in trust for his infant son could not venture to persist in so hazardous a policy, nor could Elizabeth venture to return to it. It was necessary to make a choice. The government must either submit to Rome, or must obtain the aid of the Protestants. The gov- ernment and the Protestants had only one thing in common, hatred of the Papal power. The English Re- formers were eager to go as far as their brethren on the Continent. They unanimously condemned as Anti- christian numerous dogmas and practices to which SS History of England Henry had stubbornly adhered, and which Elizabeth reluctantly abandoned. Many felt a strong repugnance even to things indifferent which had formed part of the polity or ritual of the mystical Babylon. Thus Bishop Hooper, who died manfully at Gloucester for his re- ligion, long refused to wear the episcopal vestments. Bishop Ridley, a martyr of still greater renown, pulled down the ancient altars of his diocese, and ordered the Eucharist to be administered in the middle of churches, at tables which the Papists irreverently termed oyster boards. Bishop Jewel pronounced the clerical garb to be a stage dress, a fool's coat, a relic of the Amorites, and promised that he would spare no labor to extirpate such degrading absurdities. Archbishop Grindal long hesitated about accepting a mitre from dislike of what he regarded as the mummery of consecration. Bishop Parkhurst uttered a fervent prayer that the Church of England would propose to herself the Church of Ziirich as the absolute pattern of a Christian community. Bishop Ponet was of opinion that the word Bishop should be abandoned to the Papists, and that the chief officers of the purified Church should be called Super- intendents. When it is considered that none of these prelates belonged to the extreme section of the Protest- ant party, it cannot be doubted that, if the general sense of that party had been followed, the work of re- form would have been carried on as unsparingly in England as in Scotland. But, as the government needed the support of the Origin of the P^otestauts, SO the Protestants needed the Church of protcctiou of the government. Much was, England. therefore, given up on both sides : a union was effected ; and the fruit of that union was the Church of England. Archbishop Cranmer From a steel engraving Before the Restoration 59 To the peculiarities of this great institution, and to the strong passions which it has called forth in the minds both of friends and of enemies, are to be at- tributed many of the most important events which have, since the Reformation, taken place in our countr^^ ; nor can the secular history of England be at all understood by us, unless we study it in constant connection with the history of her ecclesiastical polity. The man who took the chief part in settling the con- ditions of the alliance which produced the Anglican Church was Archbishop Cranmer. He was the repre- sentative of both the parties which, at that time, needed each other's assistance. He was at once a divine and a courtier. In his character of divine he was perfectly ready to go as far in the way of change as any Swiss or Scottish reformer. In his character of courtier he was desirous to preserve that organization which had, during many ages, admirably ser\^ed the purposes of the Bishops of Rome, and might be expected now to serve equally well the purposes of the English kings and of their ministers. His temper and his understanding eminently fitted him to act as mediator. Saintly in his professions, unscrupulous in his dealings, zealous for nothing, bold in speculation, a coward and a time- server in action, a placable enemy and a lukewarm friend, he was in ever}^ way qualified to arrange the terms of the coalition between the religious and the worldly enemies of Popery. To this day the constitution, the doctrines, and the services of the Church, retain the visible marks of the compromise from which she sprang. She character ^^"^ occupies a middle position between the Churches of Rome and Geneva. Her doc- trinal confessions and discourses, composed by Pro- 6o History of England testants, set forth principles of theology in which Calvin or Knox would have found scarcely a word to disapprov^e. Her prayers and thanksgivings, derived from the ancient breviaries, are very generally such that Cardinal Fisher or Cardinal Pole might have heartily joined in them. A controversialist who puts an Arminian sense on her Articles and Homilies will be pronounced by candid men to be as unreasonable as a controversialist who denies that the doctrine of bap-" tismal regeneration can be discovered in her I^iturgy. The Church of Rome held that episcopacy was of divine institution, and that certain supernatural graces of a high order had been transmitted by the imposition of hands through fifty generations, from the Eleven who received their commission on the Galilean mount, to the Bishops who met at Trent. A large body of Protestants, on the other hand, regarded prelacy as positively unlawful, and persuaded themselves that they found a very different form of ecclesiastical gov- ernment prescribed in Scripture. The founders of the Anglican Church took a middle course. They retained episcopacy ; but they did not declare it to be an insti- tution essential to the welfare of a Christian society, or to the efficacy of the sacraments. Cranmer, indeed, on one important occasion, plainly avowed his conviction that, in the primiti\'e times, there was no distinction between bishops and priests, and that the laying on of hands was altogether superfluous. Among the Presbyterians, the conduct of public worship is, to a great extent, left to the minister. Their prayers, therefore, are not exactly the same in any two assemblies on the same day, or on any two days in the same assembly. In one parish they are fervent, Before the Restoration 6i eloquent, and full of meaning. In the next parish they may be languid or absurd. The priests of the Roman Catholic Church, on the other hand, have, during many generations, daily chanted the same ancient confessions, supplications, and thanksgivings, in India and Lithuania, in Ireland and Peru. The service, being in a dead language, is intelligible only to the learned ; and the great majority of the congre- gation m.SLy be said to assist as spectators rather than as auditors. Here, again, the Church of England took a middle course. She copied the Roman Catholic forms of praj^er, but translated them into the vulgar tongue, and invited the illiterate miiltitude to join its voice to that of the minister. In every part of her system the same policy may be traced. Utterly rejecting the doctrine of transubstan- tiation, and condemning as idolatrous all adoration paid to the sacramental bread and wine, she yet, to the dis- gust of the Puritan, required her children to receive the memorials of divine love, meekly kneeling upon their knees. Discarding many rich vestments which surrounded the altars of the ancient faith, she yet re- tained, to the horror of weak minds, a robe of white linen, typical of the purity which belonged to her as the mystical spouse of Christ. Discarding a crowd of pantomimic gestures which, in the Roman Catholic worship, are substituted for intelligible words, she yet shocked many rigid Protestants by marking the infant just sprinkled from the font with the sign of the cross. The Roman Catholic addressed his praj^ers to a multi- tude of saints, among whom were numbered many men of doubtful, and some of hateful character. The Puri- tan refused the addition of Saint even to the apostle of 62 History of England the Gentiles, and to the disciple whom Jesus loved. The Church of England, though she asked for the in- tercession of no created being, still set apart days for the commemoration of some who had done and suffered great things for the faith. She retained confirmation and ordination as edifying rites ; but she degraded them from the rank of sacraments. Shrift was no part of her system. Yet she gently invited the dying penitent to confess his sins to a divine, and empowered her minis- ters to soothe the departing soul by an absolution which breathes the very spirit of the old religion. In general, it may be said that she appeals more to the understand- ing and less to the senses and the imagination, than the Church of Rome, and that she appeals less to the understanding, and more to the senses and imagination, than the Protestant Churches of Scotland, France, and Switzerland. Nothing, however, so strongly distinguished the Church of England from other churches as the relation in which she stood to the monarchy. The Relation in which she King was her head. The limits of the au- stoodtothe thority which he possessed, as such, were crown. not traced, and indeed have never yet been traced, with precision. The laws which declared him supreme in ecclesiastical matters were drawn rudely and in general terms. If, for the purpose of ascertain- ing the sense of those laws, we examine the books and lives of those who founded the English Church, our perplexity will be increased ; for the founders of the English Church wrote and acted in an age of violent intellectual fermentation, and of constant action and reaction. They therefore often contradicted each other, and sometimes contradicted themselves. That the Before the Restoration 63 King was, under Christ, sole head of the Church, was a doctrine which they all with one voice affirmed: but those words had vers' different significations in different mouths, and in the same mouth at different conjunctures. Sometimes an authority which would have satisfied Hildebrand was ascribed to the sov- ereign : then it dwindled down to an authorit}^ little more than that which had been claimed by many an- cient English princes who had been in constant com- munion with the Church of Rome. What Henry and his favorite counsellors meant, at one time, by the supremacy, was certainly nothing less than the whole power of the keys. The King was to be the Pope of his kingdom, the vicar of God, the expositor of Cathohc verity, the channel of sacramental graces. He arro- gated to himself the right of deciding dogmatically what was orthodox doctrine and what was heresy, of drawing up and imposing confessions of faith, and of giving religious instruction to his people. He pro- claimed that all jurisdiction, spiritual as well as tem- poral, was derived from him alone, and that it was in his power to confer episcopal authority, and to take it away. He actually ordered his seal to be put to com- missions by which bishops were appointed, who were to exercise their functions as his deputies, and during his pleasure. According to this system, as expounded by Cranmer, the King was the spiritual as well as the temporal chief of the nation. In both capacities His Highness must have lieutenants. As he appointed civil officers to keep his seal, to collect his revenues, and to dispense justice in his name, so he appointed divines of various ranks to preach the Gospel, and to administer the sacraments. It was unnecessary that 64 History of England there should be any imposition of hands. The King — such was the opinion of Cranmer given in the plainest words — might, in virtue of authority derived from God, make a priest ; and the priest so made needed no ordi- nation whatever. These opinions the Archbishop, in spite of the opposition of less courtly divines, followed out to every legitimate consequence. He held that his own spiritual functions, like the secular functions of the Chancellor and Treasurer, were at once deter- mined by a demise of the crown. When Henry died, therefore, the Primate and his suffragans took out fresh commissions, empowering them to ordain and to govern the Church till the new sovereign should think fit to order otherwise. When it was objected that a power to bind and to loose, altogether distinct from temporal power, had been given by our Lord to his apostles, some theologians of this school replied that the power to bind and to loose had descended not to the clergy, but to the whole body of Christian men, and ought to be exercised by the chief magistrate as the representa- tive of the society. When it was objected that Saint Paul had spoken of certain persons whom the Holy Ghost had made overseers and shepherds of the faith- ful, it was answered that King Henr>^ was the very overseer, the very shepherd, whom the Hoi 5^ Ghost had appointed, and to whom the expressions of Saint Paul applied.' These high pretensions gave scandal to Protestants as well as to Catholics ; and the scandal was greatly in- creased when the supremacy, which Mary had resigned ' See a very curious paper which Strype believed to be in Gardiner's handwriting. Ecclesiastical Memorials, Book I., Chap. xvii. Before the Restoration 65 back to the Pope, was again annexed to the crown, on the accession of Elizabeth. It seemed monstrous that a woman should be the chief bishop of a Church in which an apostle had forbidden her even to let her voice be heard. The Queen, therefore, found it neces- sary expressly to disclaim that sacerdotal character which her father had assumed, and which, according to Cranmer, had been inseparably joined, by divine ordinance, to the regal function. When the Anglican Confession of Faith was revised in her reign, the supremacy was explained in a manner somewhat different from that which had been fashionable at the court of Henry. Cranmer had declared, in emphatic terms, that God had immediately committed to Chris- tian princes the whole cure of all their subjects, as well concerning the administration of God's word for the cure of souls, as concerning the administration of things political. ' The thirty-seventh article of religion, framed under Elizabeth, declares, in terms as emphatic, that the ministering of God's word does not belong to princes. The Queen, however, still had over the Church a visitatorial power of vast and undefined ex- tent. She was intrusted by Parliament with the office of restraining and punishing heresy and ever>' sort of ecclesiastical abuse, and was permitted to delegate her authority to commissioners. The Bishops were little more than her ministers. Rather than grant to the civil magistrate the absolute power of nominating spiritual pastors, the Church of Rome, in the eleventh century, set all Europe on fire. Rather than grant to ' These are Cranmer's own words. See the Appendix to Burnet's History of the Refo-nnation, Part I., Book III., No. 21, Question 9. VOL. I — 5 66 History of England the civil magistrate the absolute power of nominat- ing spiritual pastors, the ministers of the Church of Scotland, in our own time, resigned their livings by- hundreds. The Church of England had no such scru- ples. By the royal authority alone her prelates were appointed. B}^ the ro^^al authority alone her convoca- tions were assembled, regulated, prorogued, and dis- solved. Without the royal sanction her canons had no force. One of the articles of her faith was that without the royal consent no ecclesiastical council could law- fully as.semble. From all her judicatures an appeal la}-, in the last resort, to the sovereign, even when the ques- tion was whether an opinion ought to be accounted heretical, or whether the administration of a sacrament had been valid. Nor did the Church grudge this ex- tensive i^ower to our princes. B}^ them she had been called into existence, nursed through a feeble infancy, guarded from Papists on one side and from Puritans on the other, protected against parliaments which bore her no good- will, and avenged on literary assailants whom she found it hard to answer. Thus gratitude, hope, fear, common attachments, common enmities, bound her to the throne. All her traditions, all her tastes, were monarchical. Loyalty became a point of profes- sional honor among her clergy, the peculiar badge which distinguished them at once from Calvinists and from Papists. Both the Calvinists and the Papists, widely as they differed in other respects, regarded w^ith extreme jealousy all encroachments of the temporal power on the domain of the spiritual power. Both Calvinists and Papists maintained that subjects might justifiably draw the sword against ungodly rulers. In France Calvinists resisted Charles the Ninth : Papists Before the Restoration 67 resisted Henry the Fourth : both Papists and Calvin- ists resisted Henry the Third. In Scotland Calvinists led Mary captive, On the north of the Trent Papists took arms against the English throne. The Church of England meantime condemned both Calvinists and Papists, and loudly boasted that no duty was more con- stantly or earnestly inculcated by her than that of sub- mission to princes. The advantages which the crown derived from this close alliance with the Established Church were great ; but they were not without serious drawbacks. The compromise arranged by Cranmer had from the first been considered by a large body of Protestants as a scheme for serving two masters, as an attempt to unite the worship of the Lord with the worship of Baal. In the days of Edward the vSixth the scruples of this part}' had repeatedly thrown great difficulties in the way of the government. When Elizabeth came to the throne those difficulties were much increased. Violence naturalh' engenders violence. The spirit of Protest- antism was therefore far fiercer and more intolerant after the cruelties of Marv than before them. The Puritans Many persons who were warmly attached to the new opinions had, during the evil days, taken refuge in Switzerland and Germany. They had been hospitably received by their brethren in the faith, had sat at the feet of the great doctors of Stras- burg, Ziirich, and Geneva, and had been, during some years, accustomed to a more simple worship, and to a more democratical form of Church government, than England had yet seen. These men returned to their country, convinced that the reform which had been effected under King Edward had been far less searching 68 History of England and extensive than the interests of pure religion re- quired. But it was in vain that they attempted to obtain any concession from Elizabeth. Indeed her system, wherever it differed from her brother's, seemed to them to differ for the worse. The}^ were little dis- posed to submit, in matters of faith, to any human authority. They had recently, in reliance on their own interpretation of Scripture, risen up against a Church strong in immemorial antiquity and catholic consent. It was by no common exertion of intellectual energy that they had thrown off the yoke of that gorgeous and imperial superstition ; and it was vain to expect that, immediatel}^ after such an emancipation, they would patienth^ submit to a new spiritual tyranny. Long accustomed, when the priest lifted up the host, to bow down with their faces to the earth, as before a present God, they had learned to treat the mass as an idolatrous mummery. Long accustomed to regard the Pope as the successor of the chief of the apostles, as the bearer of the keys of earth and heaven, they had learned to regard him as the Beast, the Antichrist, the Alan of Sin. It was not to be expected that they would immediately transfer to an upstart authority the homage which they had withdrawn from the Vatican ; that they would submit their private judgment to the authority of a Church founded on private judgment alone ; that they would be afraid to dissent from teachers who themselves dissented from what had lately been the universal faith of Western Christendom. It is easy to conceive the indignation which must have been felt by bold and inquisitive spirits, glor3nng in newly acquired freedom, when an institution 3^ounger by many vears than themselves, an institution which had, under their Quee7i Elizabeth From a painting by Zucchero Before the Restoration 69 own eyes, gradually received its form from the passions and interests of a court, began to mimic the lofty style of Rome. Since these men could not be convinced, it was de- termined that they should be persecuted. Persecution produced its natural effect on them. It lican^plrit." ^i^^^ them a sect : it made them a faction. To their hatred of the Church was now added hatred of the crown. The two sentiments were intermingled ; and each embittered the other. The opinions of the Puritan concerning the relation of ruler and subject were widely different from those which were inculcated in the Homilies. His favorite divines had, both by precept and b}^ example, encouraged resist- ance to tyrants and persecutors. His fellow-Calvinists in France, in Holland, and in Scotland, were in arms against idolatrous and cruel princes. His notions, too, respecting the government of the state took a tinge from his notions respecting the government of the Church. Some of the sarcasms which were popularly thrown upon episcopacy might, without much diffi- cult}', be turned against royalty ; and many of the arguments which were used to prove that spiritual power was best lodged in a synod seemed to lead to the conclusion that temporal power was best lodged in a parliament. Thus, as the priest of the Established Church was, from interest, from principle, and from passion, zealous for the royal prerogatives, the Puritan was, from inter- est, from principle, and from passion, hostile to them. The power of the discontented sectaries was great. They were found in every rank ; but they were strong- est among the mercantile classes in the towns, and 70 History of England among the small proprietors in the countr3\ Early in the reign of Elizabeth they began to return a majority of the House of Commons. And doubtless, had No system- atic pariia- our aucestors been then at liberty to fix their mentary attention entirely on domestic questions, opposition . r i i i t-> offered to the the Strife betweeu the crown and the Far- government liament would instantly have commenced. of Elizabeth. ^ , ^ • . i i- But that was no season for internal dissen- sions. It might, indeed, well be doubted whether the firmest union among all the orders of the state could avert the common danger by which all were threat- ened. Roman Catholic Europe and reformed Europe were struggling for death or life. France, divided against herself, had, for a time, ceased to be of any account in Christendom. The English government was at the head of the Protestant interest, and, while persecuting Presbyterians at home, extended a power- ful protection to Presbyterian churches abroad. At the head of the opposite party was the mightiest prince of the age, a prince who ruled Spain, Portugal, Italy, the Netherlands, the East and the West Indies, whose armies repeatedly marched to Paris, and whose fleets kept the coasts of Devonshire and Sussex in alarm. It long seemed probable that Englishmen would have to fight desperately on English ground for their religion and independence. Nor were they ever for a moment free from apprehensions of some great treason at home. For in that age it had become a point of conscience and of honor with many men of generous natures to sacri- fice their country to their religion. A succession of dark plots, formed by Roman Catholics against the life of the Queen and the existence of the nation, kept society in constant alarm. Whatever might be the Before the Restoration 71 faults of Elizabeth, it was plain that, to speak humanly, the fate of the realm and of all reformed churches was staked on the security of her person and on the success of her administration. To strengthen her hands was, therefore, the first duty of a patriot and a Protestant ; and that duty was well performed. The Puritans, even in the depths of the prisons to which she had sent them, prayed, and with no simulated fervor, that she might be kept from the dagger of the assassin, that rebellion might be put down under her feet, and that her arms might be victorious b}- sea and land. One of the most stubborn of the stubborn sect, immediately after his hand had been lopped off for an offence into which he had been hurried by his intemperate zeal, waved his hat with the hand which was still left him, and shouted " God save the Queen ! " The sentiment with which these men regarded her has descended to their posterity. The Non-conformists, rigorously as she treated them, have, as a body, always venerated her memory.' During the greater part of her reign, therefore, the Puritans in the House of Commons, though sometimes mutinous, felt no disposition to array themselves in S3^stematic opposition to the government. But, when ' The Puritan historian, Neal, after censuring the cruelty with which she treated the sect to which he belon<^e(l, concludes thus: "However, notwithstanding all these blemishes. Queen Elizabeth stands upon record as a wise and politic princess, for delivering her kingdom from the difficulties in which it was in- volved at her accession, for preserving the Protestant reforma- tion against the potent attempts of the Pope, the Emperor, and King of Spain abroad, and the Queen of Scots and her Popish subjects at home. . . . She was the glory of the age in which she lived, and will be the admiration of posterity." — History of the Puritans, Part I., Chap. viii. 72 History of England the defeat of the Armada, the successful resistance of the United Provinces to the Spanish power, the firm estabHshment of Henry the Fourth on the throne of France, and the death of Philip the Second, had secured the State and the Church against all danger from abroad, an obstinate struggle, destined to last during several generations, instantly began at home. It was in the Parliament of 1601 that the opposition which had, during forty years, been silently gathering and husbanding strength, fought its first great battle „ ,. f and won its first victory. The ground was Question 01 .0 the monopo- Well choscu. The Euglisli sovereigns had ''^^' always been intrusted with the supreme direction of commercial police. It was their undoubted prerogative to regulate coin, weights, and measures, and to appoint fairs, markets, and ports. The line which bounded their authority over trade had, as usual, been but loosely drawn. They therefore, as usual, en- croached on the province which rightfully belonged to the legislature. The encroachment was, as usual, patientl}' borne, till it became serious. But at length the Queen took upon herself to grant patents of monopoly by scores. There was scarcel}^ a famil}'- in the realm which did not feel itself aggrieved by the op- pression and extortion which this abuse naturally caused. Iron, oil, vinegar, coal, saltpetre, lead, starch, yarn, skins, leather, glass, could be bought only at ex- orbitant prices. The House of Commons met in an angry and determined mood. It was in vain that a courtly minority blamed the Speaker for suffering the acts of the Queen's Highness to be called in question. The language of the discontented party was high and menacing, and was echoed by the voice of the whole Before the Restoration li nation. The coach of the chief minister of the crown was surrounded by an indignant populace, who cursed the monopolies, and exclaimed that the prerogative should not be suffered to touch the old liberties of Eng- land. There seemed for a moment to be some danger that the long and glorious reign of Elizabeth would have a shameful and disastrous end. She, however, with admirable judgment and temper, declined the con- test, put herself at the head of the reforming party, redressed the grievance, thanked the Commons, in touching and dignified language, for their tender care of the general weal, brought back to herself the hearts of the people, and left to her successors a memorable example of the way in which it behooves a ruler to deal with public movements which he has not the means of resisting. In the year 1603 the great Queen died. That year is, on many accounts, one of the most important epochs in our history. It was then that both Scotland Scotland and ^^^ Ireland became parts of the same empire Ireland be- ^ ^ come parts with England. Both Scotland and Ireland, of the same indeed, had been subjugated by the Plantage- empire with . 111 England. ucts ; but neither country had been patient under the yoke. Scotland had, with heroic energy, vindicated her independence ; had, from the time of Robert Bruce, been a separate kingdom ; and was now joined to the southern part of the island in a manner which rather gratified than wounded her na- tional pride. Ireland had never, since the days of Henry the Second, been able to expel the foreign invaders ; but she had struggled against them long and fiercely. During the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the Eng- lish powder in that island was constantl}- declining, and, 74 History of England in the days of Henry the Seventh, sank to the lowest point. The Irish dominions of that prince consisted only of the counties of Dublin and I^outh, of some parts of Meath and Kildare, and of a few sea-ports scattered along the coast. A large portion even of Leinster was not yet divided into counties. Munster, Ulster, and Connaught were ruled by petty sovereigns, partly Celts, and partly degenerate Normans, who had forgotten their origin and had adopted the Celtic language and manners. But, during the sixteenth century, the Eng- lish power had made great progress. The half-savage chieftains who reigned beyond the Pale had submitted one after another to the lieutenants of the Tudors. At length, a few weeks before the death of Elizabeth, the conquest, which had been begun more than four hun- dred years before by Strongbow, was completed by Mountjo}^ Scarcely had James the First mounted the English throne when the last O'Donnel and O'Neil who have held the rank of independent princes kissed his hand at Whitehall. Thenceforward his writs ran and his judges held assizes in every part of Ireland ; and the English law superseded the customs which had prevailed among the aboriginal tribes. In extent Scotland and Ireland were nearly equal to each other, and were together nearly equal to England, but were much less thickly peopled than England, and were very far behind England in wealth and civiliza- tion. Scotland had been kept back by the sterility of her soil ; and, in the midst of light, the thick darkness of the Middle Ages still rested on Ireland. The population of Scotland, with the exception of the Celtic tribes which were thinly scattered over the Hebrides and over the mountainous parts of the north- Before the Restoration 75 ern shires, was of the same blood with the population of England, and spoke a tongue which did not differ from the purest English more than the dialects of Somersetshire and Lancashire differed from each other. In Ireland, on the contrary, the population, with the exception of the small English colon}' near the coast, was Celtic, and still kept the Celtic speech and manners. In natural courage and intelligence both the nations which now became connected with England ranked high. In perseverance, in self-command, in fore- thought, in all the virtues which conduce to success in life, the Scots have never been surpassed. The Irish, on the other hand, were distinguished by qualities which tend to make men interesting rather than pros- perous. They were an ardent and impetuous race, easily moved to tears or to laughter, to fury or to love. Alone among the nations of Northern Europe they had the susceptibility, the vivacity, the natural turn for acting and rhetoric, which are indigenous on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea. In mental cultivation Scot- land had an indisputable superiority. Though that kingdom was then the poorest in Christendom, it already vied in every branch of learning with the most favored countries. Scotsmen, w^hose dwellings and whose food were as wretched as those of the Icelanders of our time, wrote Latin verse with more than the deli- cac}^ of Vida, and made discoveries in science which would have added to the renown of Galileo. Ireland could boast of no Buchanan or Napier. The genius with which her aboriginal inhabitants were largely en- dowed showed itself as yet only in ballads which, wild and rugged as they were, seemed to the judging eyes of Spenser to contain a portion of the pure gold of poetry. 76 History of England Scotland, in becoming part of the British monarchy, preserved her dignity. Having, during many genera- tions, courageously withstood the English arms, she was now joined to her stronger neighbor on the most honorable terms. She gave a king instead of receiving one. She retained her own constitutions and laws. Her tribunals and parliaments remained entirely inde- pendent of the tribunals and parliaments which sat at Westminster. The administration of Scotland was in Scottish hands ; for no Englishman had any motive to emigrate northward, and to contend with the shrewdest and most pertinacious of all races for what was to be scraped together in the poorest of all treasuries. Never- theless Scotland by no means escaped the fate ordained for every country which is connected, but not incor- porated, with another country of greater resources. Though in name an independent kingdom, she was, during more than a century, really treated, in many respects, as a subject province. Ireland was undisguisedly governed as a dependency won by the sword. Her rude national institutions had perished. The English colonists submitted to the dic- tation of the mother-country, without whose support they could not exist, and indemnified themselves by trampling on the people among whom they had settled. The parliaments which met at Dublin could pass no law which had not been previously approved by the English Privy Council. The authority of the English legislature extended over Ireland. The executive administration was intrusted to men taken either from England or from the English Pale, and, in either case, regarded as foreigners, and even as enemies, by the Celtic population. Before the Restoration n But the circumstance which, more than any other, has made Ireland to differ from Scotland, remains to be noticed. Scotland was Protestant. In no part of Europe had the movement of the popular mind against the Roman Catholic Church been so rapid and violent. The Reformers had vanquished, deposed, and impris- oned their idolatrous sovereign. They would not endure even such a compromise as had been effected in England. They had established the Calvinistic doc- trine, discipline, and worship ; and they made little distinction between Popery and Prelacy, between the Mass and the Book of Common Prayer. Unfortunately for Scotland, the prince whom she sent to govern a fairer inheritance had been so much annoyed by the pertinacity^ with which her theologians had asserted against him the privileges of the synod and the pulpit, that he hated the ecclesiastical polit}^ to which she was fondly attached as much as it was in his effeminate nature to hate anything, and had no sooner mounted the English throne than he began to show an intolerant zeal for the government and ritual of the English Church. The Irish were the only people of Northern Europe who had remained true to the old religion. This is to be parti}' ascribed to the circumstance that they were some centuries behind their neighbors in knowledge. But other causes had co-operated. The Reformation had been a national as well as a moral revolt. It had been, not only an insurrection of the laity against the clergy, but also an insurrection of all the branches of the great German race against an alien domination. It is a most significant circumstance that no large society of which the tongue is not Teutonic has ever turned 7S History of England Protestant, and that, wherever a language derived from that of ancient Rome is spoken, the religion of modern Rome to this day prevails. The patriotism of the Irish had taken a peculiar direction. The object of their animosity was not Rome, but England ; and they had especial reason to abhor those English sovereigns who had been the chiefs of the great schism, Henry the Eighth and Elizabeth. During the vain struggle which two generations of Milesian princes maintained against the Tudors, religious enthusiasm and national enthusi- asm became inseparably blended in the minds of the vanquished race. The new feud of Protestant and Papist inflamed the old feud of Saxon and Celt. The English conquerors, meanwhile, neglected all legiti- mate means of conversion. No care was taken to pro- vide the vanquished nation with instructors capable of making themselves understood. No translation of the Bible was put forth in the Irish language. The gov- ernment contented itself with setting up a vast hier- archy of Protestant archbishops, bishops, and rectors, who did nothing, and who, for doing nothing, were paid out of the spoils of a Church loved and revered by the great body of the people. There was much in the state both of Scotland and Ireland which might well excite the painful apprehen- sions of a far-sighted statesman. As yet, however, there was the appearance of tranquillity. For the first time all the British isles were peaceably united under one sceptre. It should seem that the weight of England among European nations ought, from this epoch, to have greatly increased. The territory which her new King governed was, in extent, nearly double that which Before the Restoration 79 Elizabeth bad inherited. His empire was the most complete within itself and the most secure from attack that was to be found in the world. The Plantagenets and Tudors had been repeatedl}^ under the necessity of defending themselves against Scotland while they were engaged in continental war. The long conflict in Ire- land had been a severe and perpetual drain on their resources Yet even under such disadvantages those sovereigns had been highly considered throughout Christendom. It might, therefore, not unreasonably be expected that England, Scotand, and Ireland combined would form a state second to none that then existed. All such expectations were strangely disappointed. On the day of the accession of James the First, England descended from the rank which she had of the im- hitherto held, and began to be regarded as portance of a powcr hardly of the second order. During aft'e^r^he many years the great British monarchy, un- accession dcr four succcssivc princes of the House of James . gtuart, was scarcely a more important mem- ber of the European system than the little kingdom of Scotland had previously been. This, how^ever, is little to be regretted. Of James the First, as of John, it may be said that, if his administration had been able and splen- did, it would probably have been fatal to our country, and that we owe more to his weakness and meanness than to the wisdom and courage of much better sover- eigns. He came to the throne at a critical moment. The time was fast approaching when either the King must become absolute, or the Parliament must control the whole executive administration. Had James been, like Henry the Fourth, like Maurice of Nassau, or like Gustavus Adolphus, a valiant, active, and polite ruler, So History of England had he put himself at the head of the Protestants ot Europe, had he gained great victories over Tilly and Spinola, had he adorned Westminster with the spoils of Bavarian monasteries and Flemish cathedrals, had he hung Austrian and Castilian banners in Saint Paul's, and had he found himself, after great achievements, at the head of fifty thousand troops, brave, well disci- plined, and devotedly attached to his person, the Eng- lish Parliament would soon have been nothing more than a name. Happily he was not a man to play such a part. He began his administration by putting an end to the war which had raged during many years between England and Spain ; and from that time he shunned hostilities with a caution which was proof against the insults of his neighbors and the clamor of his subjects. Not till the last year of his life could the influence of his son, his favorite, his Parliament, and his people combined, induce him to strike one feeble blow in defence of his family and of his religion. It was w^ell for those whom he governed that he in this matter disregarded their wishes. The effect of his pacific policy was that, in his time, no regular troops were needed, and that, while France, Spain, Italy, Bel- gium, and Germany swarmed with mercenary soldiers, the defence of our island was still confided to the militia. As the King had no standing army, and did not even attempt to form one, it w^ould have been wise in him to avoid any conflict with his people. But divine rfght. ^^^^'^ ^'^^ ^^^ iudiscretiou, that, while he altogether neglected the means which alone could make him really absolute, he constantly put for- ward, in the most offensive form, claims of which none y antes I. From a design by Vansomer Before the Restoration 8i of his predecessors had ever dreamed. It was at this time that those strange theories which Fihiier after- ward formed into a system, and which became the badge of the most violent class of Tories and High- churchmen, first emerged into notice. It was gravely maintained that the Supreme Being regarded heredi- tary monarchy, as opposed to other forms of govern- ment, with peculiar favor ; that the rule of succession in order of primogeniture was a divine institution, an- terior to the Christian, and even to the Mosaic dispen- sation ; that no human power, not even that of the whole legislature, no length of adverse possession, though it extended to ten centuries, could deprive a legitimate prince of his rights ; that the authority of such a prince was necessarily always despotic ; that the laws, by which, in England and in other countries, the prerogative was limited, were to be regarded merely as concessions which the sovereign had freely made, and might at his pleasure resume ; and that any treaty which a king might conclude with his people was merely a declaration of his present intentions, and not a contract of which the performance could be demanded. It is evident that this theory, though intended to strengthen the foundations of gov^ernment, altogether unsettles them. Does the divine and immutable law of primogeniture admit females, or exclude them ? On either supposition half the sovereigns of Europe must be usurpers, reigning in defiance of the law of God, and liable to be dispossessed by the rightful heirs. The doctrine that kingly government is peculiarly favored by Heaven receives no countenance from the Old Testament ; for in the Old Testament we read that the chosen people were blamed and punished for desiring a VDL. I. — 6 82 History of England king, and that they were afterward commanded to with- draw their allegiance from him. Their whole historj^, far from countenancing the notion that succession in order of primogeniture is of divine institution, would rather seem to indicate that younger brothers are under the especial protection of Heaven. Isaac was not the eldest son of Abraham, nor Jacob of Isaac, nor Judah of Jacob, nor David of Jesse, nor Solomon of David. Nor does the system of Kilmer receive any countenance from those passages of the New Testament which de- scribe government as an ordinance of God ; for the government under which the writers of the New Testa- ment lived w^as not a hereditary monarchy. The Roman emperors were republican magistrates, named by the senate. None of them pretended to rule by right of birth ; and, in fact, both Tiberius, to whom Christ commanded that tribute should be given, and Nero, whom Paul directed the Romans to obe}^ were, accord- ing to the patriarchal theory of government, usurpers. In the Middle Ages the doctrine of indefeasible heredi- tary right w^ould have been regarded as heretical ; for it was altogether incompatible with the high preten- sions of the Church of Rome. It was a doctrine un- known to the founders of the Church of England. The Homily on Wilful Rebellion had strongly, and indeed too strongly, inculcated submission to constituted au- thority, but had made no distinction between hereditary and elective monarchies, or betw^een monarchies and republics. Indeed most of the predecessors of James would, from personal motives, have regarded the pa- triarchal theor}^ of government with aversion. William Rufus, Henry the First, Stephen, John, Henry the Fourth, Henry the Fifth, Henry the Sixth, Richard Before the Restoration S3 the Third, and Henry the Seventh, had all reigned in defiance of the strict rule of descent. A grave doubt hung over the legitimacy both of Mary and of Eliza- beth. It was impossible that both Catharine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn could have been lawfully married to Henry the Eighth ; and the highest authority in the realm had pronounced that neither was so. The Tudors, far from considering the law of succession as a divine and unchangeable institution, were constantly tampering with it. Henry the Eighth obtained an act of Parliament, giving him power to leave the crown by will, and actually made a wall to the prejudice of the royal family of Scotland. Edward the Sixth, un- authorized by Parliament, assumed a similar power, with the full approbation of the most eminent Re- formers. Elizabeth, conscious that her own title was open to grave objection, and unwilling to admit even a reversionary right in her rival and enemy, the Queen of Scots, induced the Parliament to pass a law, enact- ing that whoever should deny the competenc}^ of the reigning sovereign, with the assent of the estates of the realm, to alter the succession, should suffer death as a traitor. But the situation of James was widely differ- ent from that of Elizabeth. Far inferior to her in abilities and in popularity, regarded by the English as an alien, and excluded from the throne by the testa- ment of Henry the Eighth, the King of Scots was yet the undoubted heir of William the Conqueror and of Egbert. He had, therefore, an obvious interest in in- culcating the superstitious notion that birth confers rights anterior to law, and unalterable by law. It was a notion, moreover, well suited to his intellect and temper. It soon found many advocates among those 84 History of England who aspired to his favor, and made rapid progress among the clergy of the Established Church. Thus, at the very moment at which a republican spirit began to manifest itself strongly in the Parliament and in the country, the claims of the monarch took a monstrous form which would have disgusted the proudest and most arbitrary of those who had preceded him on the throne. James was always boasting of his skill in what he called kingcraft ; and yet it is hardly possible even to imagine a course more directly opposed to all the rules of kingcraft than that which he followed. The policy of wise rulers has always been to disguise strong acts under popular forms. It was thus that Augustus and Napoleon established absolute monarchies, while the public regarded them merely as eminent citizens in- vested with temporar^^ magistracies. The policy of James was the direct reverse of theirs. He enraged and alarmed his Parliament by constantly telling them that they held their privileges merely during his pleas- ure, and that they had no more business to inquire what he might lawfully do than what the Deity might lawfully do. Yet he quailed before them, abandoned minister after minister to their vengeance, and suffered them to tease him into acts directly opposed to his strongest inclinations. Thus the indignation excited b\- his claims and the scorn excited b}^ his concessions went on growing together. By his fondness for worth- less minions, and by the sanction which he gave to their tyrann}^ and rapacity, he kept discontent constantly alive. His cowardice, his childishness, his pedantry, his ungainly person and manners, his provincial accent, made him an object of derision. Even in his virtues Before the Restoration 85 and accomplishments there was something eminently unkingly. Throughout the whole course of his reign, all the venerable associations b}^ which the throne had long been fenced were gradually losing their strength. During two hundred >'ears all the sovereigns who had ruled England, with the single exception of the un- fortunate Henr}' the Sixth, had been strong-minded, high-spirited, courageous, and of princely bearing. Almost all had possessed abilities above the ordinary level. It was no light thing that, on the very eve of the decisive struggle between our kings and their par- liaments, ro3^alty should be exhibited to the world stammering, slobbering, shedding unmanly tears, trembling at a drawn sword, and talking in the style alternately of a buffoon and of a pedagogue. In the meantime the religious dissensions, by which, from the days of Kdward the Sixth, the Protestant body had been distracted, had become more for- The separa- ridable than ever. The interval which had tion between the Church Separated the first generation of Puritans and the Puri- fj-om Craumcr and Jewel was small indeed tans becomes , . , , . , , . , wider. when compared mth the mterv^al which sep- arated the third generation of Puritans from Laud and Hammond. While the recollection of Mary's cruelties was still fresh, while the power of the Roman Catholic party still inspired apprehension, while Spain still retained ascendency and aspired to universal do- minion, all the reformed sects knew that they had a strong common interest and a deadly common enemy. The animosity which they felt toward each other was languid when compared with the animosity which they all felt toward Rome. Conformists and Non-conform- ists had heartily joined in enacting penal laws of extreme 86 History of England severity against the Papists. But when more than half a century of undisturbed possession had given confi- dence to the EstabHshed Church, when nine tenths of the nation had become heartily Protestant, when Eng- land was at peace with all the world, when there was no danger that Popery would be forced by foreign arms on the nation, when the last confessors who had stood be- fore Bonner had passed away, a change took place in the feeling of the Anglican clergy. Their hostility to the Roman Catholic doctrine and discipline was considerably mitigated. Their dislike of the Puritans, on the other hand, increased daily. The controversies which had from the beginning divided the Protestant party took such a form as made reconciliation hopeless ; and new controversies of still greater importance were added to the old subjects of dispute. The founders of the Anglican Church had retained episcopac}' as an ancient, a decent, and a convenient ecclesiastical polit3^ but had not declared that form of Church government to be of divine institution. We have already seen how low an estimate Cranmer had formed of the ofl&ce of a bishop. In the reign of Eliza- beth, Jewel, Cooper, Whitgift, and other eminent doc- tors defended prelacy, as innocent, as useful, as what the state might lawfully establish, as what, when es- tablished by the state, was entitled to the respect of every citizen. But they never denied that a Christian community without a bishop might be a pure Church.' ' On this subject, Bishop Cooper's language is remarkably clear and strong. He maintains, in his Ansu'er to Martin Marprelate, printed in 1589, that no form of Church govern- ment is divinely ordained ; that Protestant communities, in establishing different forms, have only made a legitimate use Before the Restoration 87 On the contrary, they regarded the Protestants of the Continent as of the same household of faith with them- selves. Englishmen in England were indeed bound to acknowledge the authority of the bishop, as they were bound to acknowledge the authority of the sheriff and of the coroner : but the obligation was purely local. An English Churchman, na>-, even an English prelate, if he went to Holland, conformed without scruple to the established religion of Holland. Abroad the am- bassadors of Elizabeth and James went in state to the very worship which Elizabeth and James persecuted at home, and carefull}^ abstained from decorating their private chapels after the Anglican fashion, lest scandal should be given to weaker brethren. An instrument is still extant by which the Primate of all England, in the year 1582, authorized a Scotch minister, ordained, of their Christian liberty ; and that episcopacy is peculiarly suited to England, because the English constitution is monarch- ical. "All those Churches," says the Bishop, "in which the Gospell, in these daies, after great darknesse, was first renewed, and the learned men whom God sent to instruct them, I doubt not but have been directed by the Spirite of God to retaine this liberty, that, in external government and other outward orders, they might choose such as they thought in wisedome and godli- nesse to be most convenient for the state of their countrey and disposition of their people. Why then should this liberty that other countrey s have used under anie colour be wrested from us? I think it therefore great presumption and boldnesse that some of our nation, and those, whatever they may think of themselves, not of the greatest wisedome and skill, should take upon them to controlle the whole realme, and to binde both prince and people in respect of conscience to alter the present state, and tie themselves to a certain platforme devised by some of our neighbours, which, in the judgment of many wise and godly persons, is most unfit for the state of a Kingdome." SS History of England according to the laudable forms of the Scotch Church, by the Synod of East IvOthian, to preach and administer the sacraments in any part of the province of Canter- bury.' In the year 1603, the Convocation solemnly recognized the Church of Scotland, a Church in which episcopal control and episcopal ordination were then unknown, as a branch of the Holy Catholic Church of Christ.' It was even held that Presbyterian ministers were entitled to place and voice in oecumenical coun- cils. When the States-general of the United Provinces convoked at Dort a synod of doctors not episcopally ordained, an English bishop and an English dean, commissioned by the head of the English Church, sat with those doctors, preached to them, and voted with them on the gravest questions of theology.^ Nay, many English benefices were held by divines who had been admitted to the ministry in the Calvini-stic form used on the Continent ; nor was reordination by a bishop in such cases then thought necessary, or even lawful.* ' Strype's Lz/e of Grindal, Appendix to Book II., No. 17. ^ Canon 55, of 1603. '^ Joseph Hall, then Dean of Worcester, and afterward Bishop of Norwich, was one of the commissioners. In his life of him- self, he says: "My unworthiuess was named for one of the assistants of that honourable, grave, and reverend meeting." To High-churchmen this humility will seem not a little out of place. ** It was by the Act of Uniformity, passed after the Restora- tion, that persons not episcopally ordained were, for the first time, made incapable of holding benefices. No man was more zealous for this law than Clarendon. Yet he says : " This was new : for there had been many, and at present there were some, who possessed benefices with cure of souls and other ecclesias- Before the Restoration 89 But a new race of divines was already rising in the Church of England. In their view the episcopal office was essential to the welfare of a Christian society and to the efficacy of the most solemn ordinances of reli- gion. To that office belonged certain high and sacred privileges, which no human power could give or take away. A church might as well be without the doctrine of the Trinity, or the doctrine of the Incarnation, as without the apostolical orders ; and the Church of Rome, which, in the midst of all her corruptions, had retained the apostolical orders, was nearer to primitive purity than those reformed societies which had rashly set up, in opposition to the divine model, a system in- vented by men. In the days of Edward the Sixth and of Elizabeth, the defenders of the Anglican ritual had generally con- tented themselves with sa3'ing that it might be used without sin, and that, therefore, none but a perverse and undutiful subject would refuse to use it when en- joined to do so by the magistrate. Ngw, however, that rising party which claimed for the polity of the Church a celestial origin began to ascribe to her ser- vices a new dignity and importance. It was hinted that, if the established wonship had any fault, that fault w^as extreme simplicity, and that the Reformers had, in the heat of their quarrel with Rome, abolished many ancient ceremonies which might with advantage tical promotions, who had never received orders but in France or Holland; and these men must now receive new ordination, which had been always held unlawful in the Church, or by this Act of Parliament must be deprived of their livelihood which they enjoyed in the most flourishing and peaceable time of the Church." 90 History of England have been retained. Days and places were again held in mysterious veneration. Some practices which had long been disused, and which were commonly regarded as superstitious mummeries, were revived. Paintings and carvings, which had escaped the fury of the first generation of Protestants, became the objects of a re- spect such as to many seemed idolatrous. No part of the system of the old Church had been more detested by the Reformers than the honor paid to celibacy. The}^ held that the doctrine of Rome on this subject had been prophetically condemned by the apostle Paul, as a doctrine of devils ; and they dwelt much on the crimes and scandals which seemed to prove the justice of this awful denunciation. I^uther had evinced his own opinion in the clearest manner, by espousing a nun. Some of the most illustrious bishops and priests who had died b}^ fire during the reign of Mary had left wives and children. Now, however, it began to be rumored that the old monastic spirit had reappeared in the Church of England ; that there was in high quarters a prejudice against married priests ; that even laymen, who called themselves Protestants, had made resolutions of celibacy which almost amounted to vows ; nay, that a minister of the established religion had set up a nunnery, in which the Psalms were chanted at midnight, by a company of virgins dedicated to God.' Nor was this all. A class of questions, as to which the founders of the Anglican Church and the first gen- eration of Puritans had differed little or not at all, be- ' Peckard's Life of Ferrar ; The Arminian Nunnery, or a Brief Description of the late erected monastical Place called the Arminian Nunnery, at lyittle Gidding in Huntingdonshire, 1641. Before the Restoration 91 gan to furnish matter for fierce disputes. The con- troversies which had divided the Protestant body in its infancy had related almost exclusively to Church gov- ernment and to ceremonies. There had been no serious quarrel between the contending parties on points of metaphysical theolog)'. The doctrines held by the chiefs of the hierarchy touching original sin, faith, grace, predestination, and election, were those which are popularly called Calvanistic. Toward the close of Elizabeth's reign, her favorite prelate, Archbishop Whitgift, drew up, in concert with the Bishop of Lon- don and other theologians, the celebrated instrument known by the name of the Lambeth Articles. In that instrument the most startling of the Calvinistic doc- trines are affirmed with a distinctness which would shock many who, in our age, are reputed Calvinists. One clergyman, who took the opposite side, and spoke harshl}^ of Calvin, was arraigned for his presumption by the University of Cambridge, and escaped punish- ment only by'expressing his firm belief in the tenets of reprobation and final perseverance, and his sorrow for the offence which he had given to pious men by reflect- ing on the great French reformer. The school of divinity of which Hooker was the chief occupies a middle place between the school of Cranmer and the school of Laud ; and Hooker has, in modern times, been claimed by the Arminians as an ally. Yet Hooker pronounced Calvin to have been a man superior in wisdom to any other divine that France had produced, a man to whom thousands were indebted for the knowl- edge of divine truth, but who was himself indebted to God alone. When the Arminian controversy arose in Holland, the English government and the English 92 History of England Church lent strong support to the Calvinistic party ; nor is the English name altogether free from the stain which has been left on that part}^ b}^ the imprisonment of Grotius and the judicial murder of Barneveldt. But, even before the meeting of the Dutch synod, that part of the Anglican clergy which was peculiarly hostile to the Calvinistic Church government and to the Calvinistic worship had begun to regard with dislike the Calvinistic metaph3'sics ; and this feeling was very naturally strengthened b}^ the gross injustice, insolence, and cruelty of the part}^ which was prevalent at Dort. The Arminian doctrine, a doctrine less austerely logi; cal than that of the earl>' Reformers, but more agreeable to the popular notions of the divine justice and benevo- lence, spread fast and wide. The infection soon reached the court. Opinions which, at the time of the accession of James, no clerg3aiian could have avowed without im- minent risk of being stripped of his gown, were now the best title to preferment. A divine of that age, who was asked by a simple country gentleman what the Arminians held, answered, with as much truth as wit, that they held all the best bishoprics and deaneries in England. While the majority of the Anglican clerg}" quitted, in one direction, the position which they had originally occupied, the majority of the Puritan bod}^ departed, in a direction diametricall}^ opposite, from the principles and practices of their fathers. The persecution which the separatists had undergone had been severe enough to irritate, but not severe enough to destroy. They had been, not tamed into submission, but baited into savageness and stubbornness. After the fashion of oppressed sects, they mistook their own vindictive feel- Before the Restoration 93 ings for emotions of piety, encouraged in themselves by reading and meditation a disposition to brood over their wrongs, and, when they had worked themselves up into hating their enemies, imagined that they were only hating the enemies of Heaven. In the New Tes- tament there was little indeed which, even when per- verted b}^ the most disingenuous exposition, could seem to countenance the indulgence of malevolent passions. But the Old Testament contained the history of a race selected by God to be witnesses of his unity and minis- ters of his vengeance, and specially commanded by him to do many things which, if done without his special command, would have been atrocious crimes. In such a history it was not difficult for fierce and gloomy spirits to find much that might be distorted to suit their wishes. The extreme Puritans, therefore, began to feel for the Old Testament a preference, which, perhaps, they did not distincth' avow even to themselves, but which showed itself in all their sentiments and habits. The^^ paid to the Hebrew^ language a respect which they re- fused to that tongue in which the discourses of Jesus and the epistles of Paul have come dow^n to us. They baptized their children by the names, not of Christian saints, but of Hebrew patriarchs and warriors. In de- fiance of the express and reiterated declarations of Luther and Calvin, they turned the weekly festival by which the Church had, from the primitive times, com- memorated the resurrection of her Lord, into a Jewish Sabbath. The}" sought for principles of jurisprudence in the Mosaic law, and for precedents to guide their ordinary" conduct in the books of Judges and Kings. Their thoughts and discourse ran much on acts which were assuredly not recorded as examples for our iniita- 94 History of England tioii. The prophet who hewed in pieces a captive king ; the rebel general who gave the blood of a queen to the dogs ; the matron who, in defiance of plighted faith, and of the laws of Eastern hospitality, drove the nail into the brain of the fugitive all}^ who had just fed at her board, and who was sleeping under the shadow of her tent, were proposed as models to Christians suffering under the tyranny of princes and prelates. Morals and manners were subjected to a code resem- bling that of the synagogue, when the synagogue was in its worst state. The dress, the deportment, the language, the studies, the amusements of the rigid sect were regulated on principles not unlike those of the Pharisees, who, proud of their washed hands and broad phylacteries, taunted the Redeemer as a Sabbath- breaker and a wine-bibber. It was a sin to hang gar- lands on a May-pole, to drink a friend's health, to fly a hawk, to hunt a stag, to play at chess, to wear love- locks, to put starch into a ruff, to touch the virginals, to read the Fairy Queen. Rules such as these, rules which would have appeared insupportable to the free and joyous spirit of Luther, and contemptible to the serene and philosophical intellect of Zwingle, threw over all life a more than monastic gloom. The learn- ing and eloquence by which the great Reformers had been eminently distinguished, and to which they had been, in no small measure, indebted for their success, were regarded by the new school of Protestants with suspicion, if not with aversion. Some precisians had scruples about teaching the I^atin grammar, because the names of Mars, Bacchus, and Apollo occurred in it. The fine arts were all but proscribed. The solemn peal of the organ was superstitious. The light music of Before the Restoration 95 Ben Jonson's masques was dissolute. Half the fine paintings in England were idolatrous, and the other half indecent. The extreme Puritan was at once known from other men by his gait, his garb, his lank hair, the sour solemnity of his face, the upturned white of his eyes, the nasal twang with which he spoke, and, above all, by his peculiar dialect. He employed, on every occasion, the imager^^ and style of Scripture. Hebra- isms violently introduced into the English language, and metaphors borrowed from the boldest l3Tic poetry of a remote age and countr>^ and applied to the com- mon concerns of English life, were the most striking peculiarities of this cant, which moved, not without cause, the derision both of Prelatists and libertines. Thus the political and religious schism which "had originated in the sixteenth centur}" was, during the first quarter of the seventeenth century, constantly widen- ing. Theories tending to Turkish despotism were in fashion at Whitehall. Theories tending to republican- ism were in favor with a large portion of the House of Commons. The violent Prelatists who were, to a man, zealous for prerogative, and the violent Puritans who were, to a man, zealous for the privileges of Parliament, regarded each other with animositv more intense than that which, in the preceding generation, had existed between Catholics and Protestants. While the minds of men were in this state, the countr\', after a peace of many years, at length en- gaged in a war which required strenuous exertions. This war hastened the approach of the great constitu- tional crisis. It was necessary that the King should have a large military force. He could not have such a force without money. He could not legally raise 96 History of England money without the consent of Parliament. It followed, therefore, that he either must administer the govern- ment in conformity with the sense of the House of Commons, or must venture on such a violation of the fundamental laws of the land as had been unknown during several centuries. The Plantagenets and the Tudors had, it is true, occasionally supplied a de- ficiency in their revenue by a benevolence or a forced loan ; but these expedients were always of a temporary nature. To meet the regular charge of a long war by regular taxation, imposed without the consent of the estates of the realm, was a course which Henry the Eighth himself would not have dared to take. It seemed, therefore, that the decisive hour was approach- ing, and that the English Parliament would soon either share the fate of the senates of the Continent, or obtain supreme ascendency in the state. Just at this conjuncture James died. Charles the First succeeded to the throne. He had received from nature a far better understanding, a far Accession . ^ and charac- strougcr will, and a far keener and firmer ter of temper than his father's. He had inherited his father's political theories, and was much more disposed than his father to carry them into prac- tice. He was, like his father, a zealous Episcopalian. He was, moreover, what his father had never been, a zealous Arminian, and, though no Papist, liked a Papist much better than a Puritan. It would be un- just to deny that Charles had some of the qualities of a good, and even of a great prince. He wTote and spoke, not, like his father, with the exactness of a pro- fessor, but after the fashion of intelligent and well- educated gentlemen. His taste in literature and art Charles /. From a painting by Sir Peter Lely, after Anton Vandyke, Dresden Gallery I Sr ',( 'r^ x Before the Restoration 97 was excellent, his manner dignified, though not gracious, his domestic life without blemish. Faithless- ness was the chief cause of his disasters, and is the chief stain on his memory. He was, in truth, impelled by an incurable propensity to dark and crooked ways. It may seem strange that his conscience, which, on occasions of little moment, was sufficiently sensitive, should never have reproached him with this great vice. But there is reason to believe that he was perfidious, not only from constitution and from habit, but also on principle. He seems to have learned from the theo- logians whom he most esteemed that between him and his subjects there could be nothing of the nature of mutual contract ; that he could not, even if he would, divest himself of his despotic authority ; and that, in every promise which he made, there was an implied reservation that such promise might be broken in case of necessity, and that of the necessity he was the sole judge. And now began that hazardous game on which were staked the destinies of the EngHsh people. It was played, on the side of the House of Com- IpposUionTn^ mous, With kcenuess, but with admirable the House of dexterity, coolness, and perseverance. Great Commons. g^^^-gg^^g.^ who lookcd far behind them and far before them were at the head of that assembly. They were resolved to place the King in such a situa- tion that he must either conduct the administration in conformity with the wishes of his Parliament, or make outrageous attacks on the most sacred principles of the constitution. They accordingly doled out sup- plies to him very sparingly. He found that he must govern either in harmony with the House of Cora- VOL. 1^7 98 History of England mons, or in defiance of all law. His choice was soon made. He dissolved his first Parliament, and levied taxes by his own authority. He convoked a second Parliament, and found it more intractable than the first. He again resorted to the expedient of dissolu- tion, raised fresh taxes without any show of legal right, and threw the chiefs of the opposition into prison. At the same time, a new grievance, which the peculiar feelings and habits of the English nation made insup- portably painful, and which seemed to all discerning men to be of fearful augury, excited general discontent and alarm. Companies of soldiers were billeted on the people ; and martial law was, in some places, substi- tuted for the ancient jurisprudence of the realm. The King called a third Parliament, and soon per- ceived that the opposition was stronger and fiercer than ever. He now determined on a change of RLht°" ° tactics. Instead of opposing an inflexible resistance to the demands of the Commons, he, after much altercation and many evasions, agreed to a compromise which, if he had faithfully adhered to it, would have averted a long series of calamities. The Parliament granted an ample supply. The King rati- fied, in the most solemn manner, that celebrated law, which is known by the name of the Petition of Right, and which is the second Great Charter of the liberties of England. By ratifying that law, he bound himself never again to raise money without the consent of the Houses, never again to imprison any person, except in due course of law, and never again to subject his people to the jurisdiction of courts-martial. The day on which the royal sanction was, after many delays, solemnly given to this great act, was a day of Before the Restoration 99 joy and hope. The Commons, who crowded the bar of the House of Lords, broke forth into loud acclama- tions as soon as the clerk had pronounced the ancient form of words b}^ which our princes have, during many ages, signified their assent to the wishes of the estates of the realm. Those acclamations were re-echoed by the voice of the capital and of the nation ; but within three weeks it became manifest that Charles had no in- tention of obser\nng the compact into which he had entered. The supply given by the representatives of the nation was collected. The promise by which that supply had been obtained was broken. A \'iolent con- test followed. The Parliament was dissolved with every mark of royal displeasure. Some of the most distinguished members were imprisoned ; and one of them, Sir John Eliot, after years of suffering, died in confinement. Charles, however, could not venture to raise, by his own authority, taxes sufficient for carrying on war. He accordingly hastened to make peace with his neigh- bors, and thenceforth gave his whole mind to British politics. Now commenced a new era. i\Iany English kings had occasionally committed unconstitutional acts ; but none had ever systematically attempted to make him- self a despot, and to reduce the Parliament to a nullity. Such was the end which Charles distinctl}^ proposed to himself. From March, 1629, to April, 1640, the Houses were not convoked. Never in our histor}^ had there been an interval of eleven 3'ears between Parliament and Parliament. Only once had there been an interv^al of even half that length. This fact alone is sufficient to refute those who represent Charles as having merely loo History of England trodden in the footsteps of the Plantagenets and Tudors. It is proved, by the testimony of the King's most strenuous supporters, that, during this part of his reign, , the provisions of the Petition of Right were Petition of ^ •=' Right violated by him, not occasionally, but con- vioiated. stautlv, and on S5^stem ; that a large part of the revenue was raised without any legal authority ; and that persons obnoxious to the government lan- guished for 3^ears in prison, without being ever called upon to plead before any tribunal. For these things histor}^ must hold the King him- self chiefly responsible. From the time of his third Parliament he was his own prime minister. Several persons, however, whose temper and talents were suited to his purposes, were at the head of different depart- ments of the administration. Thomas Went worth, successively created L,ord Went- worth and Earl of Strafford, a man of great abilities, eloquence, and courage, but of a cruel and Character . . and designs iuiperious uaturc, was the counsellor most of Went- trusted in political and militars^ affairs. He worth. had been one of the most distinguished mem- bers of the opposition, and felt toward those whom he had deserted that peculiar malignity which has, in all ages, been characteristic of apostates. He perfectly un- derstood the feelings, the resources, and the policy of the party to which he had lately belonged, and had formed a vast and deeply meditated scheme which very nearly confounded even the able tactics of the statesmen by whom the House of Commons had been directed. To this scheme, in his confidential correspondence, he gave the expressive name of Thorough. His object was to Before the Restoration loi do in England all, and more than all, that Richelieu was doing in France ; to make Charles a monarch as absolute as any on the Continent ; to put the estates and the personal liberty of the whole people at the dis- posal of the crown ; to deprive the courts of law of all independent authority, even in ordinary questions of civil right between man and man ; and to punish with merciless rigor all who murmured at the acts of the government, or who applied, even in the most decent and regular manner, to any tribunal for relief against those acts. ' This was his end ; and he distinctly saw in what manner alone this end could be attained. There was, in truth, about all his notions a clearness, a coherence, a precision, which, if he had not been pursuing an ob- ject pernicious to his country and to his kind, would have justly entitled him to high admiration. He saw that there was one instrument, and only one, by which his vast and daring projects could be carried into exe- cution. That instrument was a standing army. To the forming of such an army, therefore, he directed all the energy of his strong mind. In Ireland, where he was viceroy, he actually succeeded in establishing a military despotism, not only over the aboriginal popu- lation, but also over the English colonists, and was ' The correspondence of Wentworth seems to me fully to bear out what I have said in the text. To transcribe all the passages which have led me to the conclusion at which I have arrived, would be impossible ; nor would it be easy to make a better selection than has already been made by Mr. Hallam. I may, however, direct the attention of the reader particularly to the very able paper which Wentworth drew up respecting the affairs of the Palatinate. The date is March 31, 1637. I02 History of England able to boast that, in that island, the King was as ab- solute as any prince in the whole world could be.' The ecclesiastical administration was, in the mean- time, principally directed by William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury. Of all the prelates of the of^LL^i'd.^' A nglican Church, Laud had departed farthest from the principles of the Reformation, and had drawn nearest to Rome. His theolog}^ was more remote than even that of the Dutch Arminians from the theology of the Calvinists. His passion for cere- monies, his reverence for holidays, vigils, and sacred places, his ill-concealed dislike of the marriage of ecclesi- astics, the ardent and not altogether disinterested zeal with which he asserted the claims of the clergy to the reverence of the laity, would have made him an object of aversion to the Puritans, even if he had used only- legal and gentle means for the attainment of his ends. But his understanding was narrow ; and his commerce with the world had been small. He was by nature rash, irritable, quick to feel for his own dignit}', slow to sj^mpathize with the sufferings of others, and prone to the error, common in superstitious men, of mistaking' his own peevish and malignant moods for emotions of pious zeal. Under his direction every corner of the realm was subjected to a constant and minute inspec- tion. Every little congregation of separatists was tracked out and broken up. Even the devotions of priv^ate families could not escape the vigilance of his spies. Such fear did his rigor inspire, that the deadly hatred of the Church, which festered in innumerable bosoms, was generally disguised under an outward ' These are Went worth's own words. See his letter to Laud, dated Dec. i6, 1634. Before the Restoration 103 show of conformity. On the very eve of troubles, fatal to himself and to his order, the bishops of several ex- tensive dioceses were able to report to him that not a single dissenter was to be found within their juris- diction/ The tribunals afforded no protection to the subject against the civil and ecclesiastical tyranny of that period. The judges of the common law, holding their situations during the pleasure of the King, were scan- dalously obsequious. Yet, obsequious as they were, they were less ready and less efficient instruments of arbitrar}^ power than a class of courts, the memory of which is still, after the lapse of more than two cen- turies, held in deep abhorrence by the nation. Fore- star-cham- ^lost auioug thesc courts in power and in ber and High infamy Were the Star-chamber and the High Commission. Commission, the former a poHtical, the lat- ter a religious inquisition. Neither was a part of the old constitution of England. The Star-chamber had been remodelled, and the High Commission created, by the Tudors. The power which these boards had pos- sessed before the accession of Charles had been exten- sive and formidable, but had been small indeed when compared wdth that which they now usurped. Guided chiefl}^ by the violent spirit of the primate, and freed from the control of Parliament, they displayed a rapacity, a violence, a malignant energ}^ which had been unknown to any former age. The government was able, through their instrumentality, to fine, im- prison, pillory, and mutilate without restraint. A separate council which sat at York, under the presi- dency of Wentworth, was armed, in defiance of law, by ' See his report to Charles for the year 1639. I04 History of England a pure act of prerogative, with almost boundless power over the northern counties. All these tribunals in- sulted and defied the authority of Westminster Hall, and daily committed excesses which the most dis- tinguished Royalists have warmly condemned. We are informed by Clarendon that there was hardly a man of note in the realm who had not personal experi- ence of the harshness and greediness of the Star- chamber, that the High Commission had so conducted itself that it had scarce a friend left in the kingdom, and that the tyranny of the Council of York had made the Great Charter a dead letter on the north of the Trent. The government of England was now, in all points but one, as despotic as that of France. But that one point was all-important. There was still no standing army. There was, therefore, no security that the whole fabric of tyranny might not be subverted in a single day ; and, if taxes were imposed by the royal authorit}^ for the support of an army, it was probable that there would be an immediate and irresistible ex- plosion. This was the difficulty which more than any other perplexed Wentworth. The Lord Keeper Finch, in concert with other lawyers who were employed by the government, recommended an expedient, which was eagerly adopted. The ancient princes of England, as they called on the inhabitants of the counties near Scotland to arm and array themselves for the defence of the border, had sometimes called on the maritime counties to furnish ships for the defence of the coast. In the room of ships money had sometimes Ship-money. been accepted. This old practice it was now determined, after a long inter\^al, not only to re- vive, but to extend. Former princes had raised ship- Before the Restoration 105 money only in time of war : it was now exacted in a time of profound peace. Former princes, even in the most perilous wars, had raised ship-money only along the coasts : it was now exacted from the inland shires. Former princes had raised ship-money only for the maritime defence of the country : it was now exacted, by the admission of the Royalists themselves, with the object, not of maintaining a navy, but of furnishing the King with supplies which might be increased at his discretion to any amount, and expended at his discre- tion for any purpose. The whole nation was alarmed and incensed. John Hampden, an opulent and well-born gentleman of Buckinghamshire, highly considered in his own neigh- borhood, but as yet little known to the kingdom gen- erally, had the courage to step forward, to confront the whole power of the government, and take on himself the cost and the risk of disputing the prerogative to which the King laid claim. The case was argued be- fore the judges in the Exchequer Chamber. So strong were the arguments against the pretensions of the crown that, dependent and servile as the j udges were, the majority against Hampden was the smallest possi- ble. Still there was a majority. The interpreters of the law had pronounced that one great and productive tax might be imposed by the royal authority. Went- worth justly observed that it was impossible to vindi- cate their judgment except by reasons directly leading to a conclusion which they had not ventured to draw. If money might legally be raised without the consent of Parliament for the support of a fleet, it was not easy to deny that money might, without consent of Parlia- ment, be legally raised for the support of an army. io6 History of England The decision of the judges increased the irritation of the .people. A century earlier, irritation less serious would have produced a general rising. But discontent did not now so readily as in an earlier age take the form of rebellion. The nation had been long steadily advancing in wealth and in civilization. Since the great northern earls took up arms against Elizabeth seventy years had elapsed ; and during those seventy years there had been no civil war. Never, during the whole existence of the English nation, had so long a period passed without intestine hostilities. Men had become accustomed to the pursuits of peaceful industry, and, exasperated as they were, hesitated long before they drew the sword. This was the conjuncture at which the liberties of the nation were in the greatest peril. The opponents of the government began to despair of the destiny of their country ; and many looked to the American wilderness as the only asylum in which they could enjoy civil and spiritual freedom. There a few resolute Puritans, who, in the cause of their religion, feared neither the rage of the ocean nor the hardships of un- civilized life, neither the fangs of savage beasts nor the tomahawks of more savage men, had built, amidst the primeval forest, villages wdiich are now great and opu- lent cities, but which have, through every change, re- tained some trace of the character derived from their founders. The government regarded these infant colonies with aversion, and attempted violently to stop the stream of emigration, but could not prevent the population of New England from being largely re- cruited b}' stout-hearted and God-fearing men from every part of the old England. And now Wentworth Before the Restoration 107 exulted in the near prospect of Thorough. A few years might probably suffice for the execution of his great design. If strict economy were observed, if all collision with foreign powers were carefully avoided, the debts of the crown would be cleared oflf : there would be funds available for the support of a large military force ; and that force would soon break the re- fractory spirit of the nation. At this crisis an act of insane bigotry suddenly changed the whole face of public affairs. Had the Resistance to ^^^S ^ecu wise, he would have pursued a the Liturgy cautious aud sootliiiig policy toward Scot- ■ land till he was master in the South. For Scotland was of all his kingdoms that in which there was the greatest risk that a spark might produce a flame, and that a flame might become a conflagration. Constitutional opposition, indeed, such as he had en- countered at Westminster, he had not to apprehend at Edinburgh. The Parliament of his northern kingdom was a very different body from that which bore the same name in England. It was ill-constituted : it was little considered ; and it had never imposed any serious restraint on any of his predecessors. The three estates sat in one house. The commissioners of the burghs were considered merely as retainers of the great nobles. No act could be introduced till it had been approved by the Lords of Articles, a committee which was really, though not in form, nominated b}' the crown. But, though the Scottish Parliament was obsequious, the Scottish people had always been singularly turbulent and ungovernable. They had butchered their first James in his bedchamber: they had repeatedly arrayed themselves in arms against James the Second : they io8 History of England had slain James the Third on the field of battle : their disobedience had broken the heart of James the Fifth : the\' had deposed and imprisoned Mary : they had led her son captive ; and their temper was still as intracta- ble as ever. Their habits were rude and martial. All along the southern border, and all along the line be- tween the highlands and the lowlands, raged an inces- sant predatory war. In every part of the country men were accustomed to redress their wrongs by the strong hand. Whatever loyalt}^ the nation had anciently felt to the Stuarts had cooled during their long absence. The supreme influence over the public mind was divided between two classes of malcontents, the lords of the soil and the preachers; lords animated by the same spirit which had often impelled the old Douglasses to withstand the royal house, and preachers who had inherited the republican opinions and the unconquer- able spirit of Knox. Both the national and religious feelings of the population had been wounded. All orders of men complained that their country, that coun- try' which had, with so much glor}^ defended her inde- pendence against the ablest and bravest Plantagenets, had, through the instrumentality of her native princes, become in effect, though not in name, a province of England. In no part of Europe had the Calvinistic doctrine and discipline taken so strong a hold on the public mind. The Church of Rome was regarded by the great body of the people with a hatred which might justly be called ferocious ; and the Church of England, which seemed to be every day becoming more and more like the Church of Rome, was an object of scarcely less aversion. The government had long wished to extend the Before the Restoration 109 Anglican system over the whole island, and had already, with this view, made several changes highly distasteful to every Presbyterian. One innovation, however, the most hazardous of all, because it was directly cognizable by the senses of the common peo- ple, had not yet been attempted. The public worship of God was still conducted in the manner acceptable to the nation. Now, however, Charles and Laud deter- mined to force on the Scots the English Liturgy, or rather a liturgy which, wherever it differed from that of England, differed, in the judgment of all rigid Pro- testants, for the worse. To this step, taken in the mere wantonness of tyrann}', and in criminal ignorance or more criminal contempt of public feeling, our country owes her free- dom. The first performance of the foreign ceremonies produced a riot. The riot rapidly became a revolution. Ambition, patriotism, fanaticism, were mingled in one headlong torrent. The whole nation was in arms. The power of England was indeed, as appeared some years later, sufiicient to coerce Scotland : but a large part of the English people sympathized with the religious feelings of the insurgents ; and many English- men who had no scruple about antiphonies and genu- flexions, altars and surplices, saw with pleasure the progress of a rebellion which seemed likely to confound the arbitrary projects of the court, and to make the calling of a parliament necessary^ For the senseless freak which had produced these effects Wentworth is not responsible. ' It had, in fact, thrown all his plans into confusion. To counsel sub- ' See his letter to the Earl of Northumberland, dated July 30, 1638. no History of England mission, however, was not in his nature. An attempt was made to put down the insurrection by the sword : ^ but the Kine^s military means and miHtary A parliament o ./ j called and taleuts Were unequal to the task. To im- dissoived. ^q^q fresh taxes on England in defiance of law would, at this conjuncture, have been madness. No resource was left but a parliament ; and in the spring of 1640 a parliament was convoked. The nation had been put into good-humor by the prospect of seeing constitutional government restored, and grievances redressed. The new House of Com- mons was more temperate and more respectful to the throne than any which had sat since the death of Eliza- beth. The moderation of this assembly has been highly extolled by the most distinguished Royalists, and seems to have caused no small vexation and dis- appointment to the chiefs of the opposition ; but it was the uniform practice of Charles, a practice equally im- politic and ungenerous, to refuse all compliance with the desires of his people, till those desires were ex- pressed ill a menacing tone. As soon as the Commons showed a disposition to take into consideration the grievances under which the country had suffered during eleven years, the King dissolved the Parliament with every mark of displeasure. Between the dissolution of this short-lived assembly and the meeting of that ever-memorable body known by the name of the Long Parliament, intervened a few months, during which the yoke was pressed down more severely than ever on the nation, while the spirit of the nation rose up more angrily than ever against the yoke. Members of the House of Commons were questioned by the Privy Council touching their parliamentary Before the Restoration 1 1 1 conduct, and thrown into prison for refusing to reply. Ship-money was levied with increased rigor. The Lord Ma^^or and the sheriffs of London were threat- ened with imprisonment for remissness in collecting the payments. Soldiers were enlisted by force. Money for their support was exacted from their counties. Torture, which had always been illegal, and which had recently been declared illegal even by the servile judges of that age, was inflicted for the last time in England in the month of May, 1640. Ever3'thing now depended on the event of the King's military operations against the Scots. Among his troops there was little of that feeling which separates professional soldiers from the mass of a nation, and attaches them to their leaders. His army, composed for the most part of recruits, who regretted the plough from which the}" had been violentl}' taken, and who were imbued with the religious and political sentiments then prevalent throughout the country, was more for- midable to himself than to the enemy. The Scots, en- couraged by the heads of the English opposition, and feebly resisted by the English forces, marched across the Tweed and the Tyne, and encamped on the borders of Yorkshire. And now the murmurs of discontent swelled into an uproar by which all spirits save one were overawed. But the voice of Strafford was still for Thorough ; and he, even in this extremity, showed a nature so cruel and despotic, that his own pikemen were ready to tear him in pieces. There w^as yet one last expedient which, as the King flattered himself, might save him from the misery of facing another House of Commons. To the House of Lords he was less averse. The bishops were devoted 112 History of England to him ; and, though the temporal peers were generally dissatisfied with his administration, they were, as a class, so deeply interested in the maintenance of order, and in the stability of ancient institutions, that they were not likely to call for extensive reforms. Depart- ing from the uninterrupted practice of centuries, he called a Great Council consisting of Lords alone. But the Lords were too prudent to assume the unconstitu- tional functions with which he wished to invest them. Without money, without credit, without authority even in his own camp, he yielded to the pressure of neces- sity. The Houses were convoked ; and the elections proved that, since the spring, the distrust and hatred with which the government was regarded had made fearful progress. In November, 1640, met that renowned Parliament which, in spite of many errors and disasters, is justly entitled to the reverence and gratitude of The Long ^y^ who, iu any part of the world, enjoy the Parliament. ' . > j ^ blessings of constitutional government. During the year which followed, no very important division of opinion appeared in the Houses. The civil and ecclesiastical administration had, through a period of near twelve years, been so oppressive and so uncon- stitutional that even those classes of which the inclina- tions are generally on the side of order and authority were eager to promote popular reforms, and to bring the instruments of tyrann}?- to justice. It was enacted that no interval of more than three years should ever elapse between Parliament and Parliament, and that, if writs under the Great Seal were not issued at the proper time, the returning officers should, without such writs, call the constituent bodies together for the choice Before the Restoration 113 of representatives. The Star-chamber, the High Com- mission, the Council of York, were swept away. Men who, after suffering cruel mutilations, had been con- fined in remote dungeons, regained their liberty. On the chief ministers of the crown the vengeance of the nation was unsparingly wreaked. The Lord Keeper, the Primate, the Lord-lieutenant, were impeached. Finch saved himself by flight. Laud was flung into the Tower. Strafford was put to death by act of at- tainder. On the day on which this act passed, the King gave his assent to a law by which he bound him- self not to adjourn, prorogue, or dissolve the existing Parliament without its own consent. After ten months of assiduous toil, the Houses, in September, 1641, adjourned for a short vacation ; and the King visited Scotland. He with difficulty pacified that kingdom by consenting, not only to relinquish his plans of ecclesiastical reform, but even to pass, with a very bad grace, an act declaring that episcopacy was contrary to the Word of God. The recess of the English Parliament lasted six weeks. The day on which the Houses met again is one of the most remarkable epochs in our history. First appear- p^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^j^^ Corporate existence ance oi the - ^ two great of the two great parties which have ever since English alternatelv governed the countrv. In one parties. - o . , , , sense, indeed, the distmction which then be- came obvious had always existed, and always must exist. For it has its origin in diversities of temper, of under- standing, and of interest, which are found in all socie- ties, and which will be found till the human mind ceases to be drawn in opposite directions by the charm of habit and by the charm of novelty. Not only in politics, but VOL. I.— 8 1 14 History of England in literature, in art, in science, in surgery and mechan- ics, in navigation and agriculture, nay, even in mathe- matics, we find this distinction. Everywhere there is a class of men who cling with fondness to whatever is ancient, and who, even when convinced by overpower- ing reasons that innovation would be beneficial, con- sent to it with many misgivings and forebodings. We find also ever3^where another class of men, sanguine in hope, bold in speculation, always pressing forward, quick to discern the imperfections of whatever exists, disposed to think lightly of the risks and inconveniences which attend improvements, and disposed to give ever)'- change credit for being an improvement. In the senti- ments of both classes there is something to approve. But of both the best specimens will be found not far from the common frontier. The extreme section of one class consists of bigoted dotards : the extreme section of the other consists of shallow and reckless empirics. There can be no doubt that in our ver}' first parlia- ments might have been discerned a body of members anxious to preserve, and a body eager to reform. But while the sessions of the legislature were short, these bodies did not take definite and permanent forms, array themselves under recognized leaders, or assume dis- tinguishing names, badges, and war-cries. During the first months of the lyong Parliament, the indignation excited by many years of lawless oppression was so strong and general that the House of Commons acted as one man. Abuse after abuse disappeared without a struggle. If a small minority of the representative body wished to retain the Star-chamber and the High Commission, that minority, overawed by the enthusi- asm and by the numerical superiority of the reformers, Before the Restoration 115 contented itself with secretly regretting institutions which could not, with any hope of success, be openly defended. At a later period the Royalists found it convenient to antedate the separation between them- selves and their opponents, and to attribute the act which restrained the King from dissolving or prorogu- ing the Parliament, the Triennial Act, the impeach- ment of the ministers, and the attainder of Strafford, to the faction which afterward made war on the Kine. But no artifice could be more disingenuous. Every one of those strong measures was actively promoted by the men who were afterward foremost among the Cava- liers. No republican spoke of the long misgovernment of Charles more severely than Culpepper. The most remarkable speech in favor of the Triennial Bill was made by Digby. The impeachment of the Eord Keeper was moved by Falkland. The demand that the Lord- lieutenant should be kept close prisoner was made at the bar of the Lords by Hyde. Not till the law attaint- ing Strafford was proposed did the signs of serious dis- union become visible. Even against that law, a law which nothing but extreme necessity could justif}-, only about sixty members of the House of Commons voted. It is certain that Hyde was not in the minority, and that Falkland not only voted with the majority, but spoke strongly for the bill. Even the few who entertained a scruple about inflicting death by a retro- spective enactment thought it necessary to express the utmost abhorrence of Strafford's character and adminis- tration. But under this apparent concord a great schism was latent ; and when, in October, 1641, the Parliament re- assembled after a short recess, two hostile parties, 1 1 6 History of England essentially the same with those which, under different names, have ever since contended, and are still con- tending, for the direction of public affairs, appeared confronting each other. During some years they were designated as Cavaliers and Roundheads. The}' were subsequently called Tories and Whigs ; nor does it seem that these appellations are likel}' soon to become obsolete. It would not be difficult to compose a lampoon or a panegyric on either of these renowned factions. For no man not utterly destitute of judgment and candor will deny that there are man}' deep stains on the fame of the party to which he belongs, or that the party to which he is opposed may justly boast of many illustri- ous names, of many heroic actions, and of many great services rendered to the state. The truth is, that, though both parties have often seriousl}- erred, Eng- land could have spared neither. If, in her institutions, freedom and order, the advantages arising from innova- tion and the advantages arising from prescription, have been combined to an extent elsewhere unknown, we may attribute this happy peculiarity to the strenuous conflicts and alternate victories of two rival confeder- acies of statesmen, a confederac}' zealous for authority and antiquity, and a confederacy zealous for liberty and progress. It ought to be remembered that the difference between two great sections of English politicians has always been a difference rather of degree than of principle. There were certain limits on the right and on the left, which were very rarely overstepped. A few enthusiasts on one side were ready to lay all our laws and fran- chises at the feet of our kings. A few enthusiasts on Before the Restoration 117 the other side were bent on pursuing, through endless civil troubles, their darling phantom of a republic. But the great majority of those who fought for the crown were averse to despotism ; and the great ma- jority of the champions of popular rights were averse to anarchy. Twice, in the course of the seventeenth century, the two parties suspended their dissensions, and united their strength in a common cause. Their first coalition restored hereditary monarchy. Their second coalition rescued constitutional freedom. It is also to be noted that these two parties have never been the whole nation, nay, that they have never, taken together, made up a majority of the nation. Between them has alwaj^s been a great mass, which has not steadfastly adhered to either, which has sometimes remained inertly neutral, and which has sometimes oscillated to and fro. That mass has more than once passed in a few years from one extreme to the other, and back again. Sometimes it has changed sides, merely because it was tired of supporting the same men, sometimes because it was dismayed by its own excesses, sometimes because it had expected im- possibilities, and had been disappointed. But, whenever it has leaned with its whole weight in either direction, that w^eight has, for the time, been irresistible. When the rival parties first appeared in a distinct form, the}' seemed to be not unequally matched. On the side of the government was a large majority of the nobles, and of those opulent and well-descended gentle- men to whom nothing was wanting of nobility but the name. These, with the dependents whose support they could command, were no small power in the state. On the same side were the great body of the clergy, both ii8 History of England the universities, and all those laymen who were strongly attached to episcopal government and to the Anglican ritual. These respectable classes found them- selves in the company of some allies much less decorous than themselves. The Puritan austerity drove to the King's faction all who made pleasure their business, who affected gallantry, splendor of dress, or taste in the lighter arts. With these went all who live by amusing the leisure of others, from the painter and the comic poet, down to the rope-dancer and the merry- andrew. For these artists well knew that they might thrive under a superb and luxurious despotism, but must starve under the rigid rule of the precisians. In the same interest were the Roman Catholics to a man. The Queen, a daughter of France, was of their own faith. Her husband was known to be strongly at- tached to her, and not a little in awe of her. Though undoubtedly a Protestant on conviction, he regarded the professors of the old religion with no ill-will, and would gladly have granted them a much larger tolera- tion than he was disposed to concede to the Presbyteri- ans. If the opposition obtained the mastery, it was probable that the sanguinary laws enacted against Papists in the reign of Elizabeth would be severely enforced. The Roman Catholics were therefore in- duced by the strongest motives to espouse the cause of the court. They in general acted with a caution which brought on them the reproach of cowardice and lukewarmness ; but it is probable that, in maintaining great reserve, they consulted the King's interest as well as their own. It was not for his service that they should be conspicuous among his friends. The main strength of the opposition lay among the Before the Restoration 119 small freeholders in the country, and among the mer- chants and shopkeepers of the towns. But these were headed by a formidable minority of the aristocracy, a minority which included the rich and powerful Karls of Northumberland, Bedford, Warwick, Stamford, and Essex, and several other lords of great wealth and influence. In the same ranks was found the whole body of Protestant Non-conformists, and most of those members of the Established Church who still adhered to the Calvinistic opinions which, forty years before, had been generally held by the prelates and clergy. The municipal corporations took, with few exceptions, the same side. In the House of Commons the opposi- tion preponderated, but not very decidedly. Neither party wanted strong arguments for the course which it was disposed to take. The reasonings of the most enlightened Royalists ma}- be summed up thus : " It is true that great abuses have existed ; but they have been redressed. It is true that precious rights have been invaded ; but they have been vindi- cated and surrounded with new securities. The sittings of the estates of the realm have been, in defiance of all precedent and of the spirit of the constitution, inter- mitted during eleven years ; but it has now been pro- vided that henceforth three years shall never elapse without a parliament. The Star-chamber, the High Commission, the Council of York, oppressed and plun- dered us ; but those hateful courts have now ceased to exist. The Eord-lieutenant aimed at establishing mili- tary despotism ; but he has answered for his treason with his head. The Primate tainted our worship with Popish rites, and punished our scruples with Popish cruelty; but he is awaiting in the Tower the judgment I20 History of England of his peers. The Lord Keeper sanctioned a plan by which the property of every man in England was placed at the mercy of the crown ; but he has been dis- graced, ruined, and compelled to take refuge in a for- eign land. The ministers of tyranny have expiated their crimes. The victims of tyranny have been com- pensated for their sufferings. It would, therefore, be most unwise to persevere further in that course which was justifiable and necessary when we first met, after a long interval, and found the whole administration one mass of abuses. It is time to take heed that we do not so pursue our victory over despotism as to run into anarchy. It was not in our power to overturn the bad institutions which lately afflicted our country, without shocks which have loosened the foundations of govern- ment. Now that those institutions have fallen, we must hasten to prop the edifice which it was lately our duty to batter. Henceforth it will be our wisdom to look with jealousy on schemes of innovation, and to guard from encroachment all the prerogatives with which the law has, for the public good, armed the sovereign." Such were the views of those men of whom the ex- cellent Falkland may be regarded as the leader. It was contended on the other side with not less force, by men of not less ability and virtue, that the safety which the liberties of the English people enjoyed was rather apparent than real, and that the arbitrary projects of the court would be resumed as soon as the vigilance of the Commons was relaxed. True it was — such was the reasoning of Pym, of HoUis, and of Hampden — that many good laws had 1)een passed : but, if good laws had been sufficient to restrain the King, his subjects Before the Restoration 121 would have had little reason ever to complain of his administration. The recent statutes were surely not of more authority than the Great Charter or the Peti- tion of Right. Yet neither the Great Charter, hal- lowed by the veneration of four centuries, nor the Petition of Right, sanctioned, after mature reflection, and for valuable consideration, by Charles himself, had been found effectual for the protection of the people. If once the check of fear were withdrawn, if once the spirit of opposition w^ere suffered to slumber, all the securities for English freedom resolved themselves into a single one, the royal word ; and it had been proved by a long and severe experience that the royal word could not be trusted. The two parties were still regarding each other with cautious hostility, and had not yet measured their strength, when news arrived which inflamed Rebellion ^^^ passious and confirmed the opinions of both. The great chieftains of Ulster, who, at the time of the accession of James, had, after a long struggle, submitted to the royal authority, had not long brooked the humiliation of dependence. The>' had conspired against the English government, and had been attainted of treason. Their immense domains had been forfeited to the crown, and had soon been peopled by thousands of English and Scotch emigrants. The new settlers were, in civilization and intelligence, far superior to the native population, and sometimes abused their superiority. The animo.sity produced by differ- ence of race was increased by difference of religion. Under the iron rule of Wentworth, scarceh' a murmur was heard ; but. when that strong pressure was with- drawn, when Scotland had set the example of success- ; I * ^ Before the Restoration I 2 -t t J his subjects might not, with some show of reason, be- lieve him capable. It was soon whispered that the re- bellion of the Roman Catholics of Ulster was part of a vast work of darkness which had been planned at Whitehall. After some weeks of prelude, the first great parlia- mentary conflict between the parties, which have ever since contended, and are still contending, The remon- r i.i , r i • , - strance. ^^^ ^^^ government of the nation, took place on the twenty-second of November, 1641. It was moved by the opposition, that the House of Commons should present to the King a remonstrance, enumerating the faults of his administration from the time of his accession, and expressing the distrust with which his policy was still regarded by his people. That assembly, which a few months before had been unanimous in calling for the reform of abuses, was now divided into two fierce and eager factions of nearly equal strength. After a hot debate of many hours, the remonstance was carried by only eleven votes. The result of this struggle w^as highly favorable to the conservative party. It could not be doubted that only some great indiscretion could prevent them from shortly obtaining the predominance in the I^ower House. The Upper House was already their own. Nothing was wanting to insure their success, but that the King should, in all his conduct, show respect for the laws and scrupulous good faith toward his sub- jects. His first measures promised well. He had, it seemed, at last discovered that an entire change of system was necessar\% and had wisely made up his mind to what could no longer be avoided. He declared 124 History of England his determination to govern in harmony with the Com- mons, and for that end, to call to his councils men in whose talents and character the Commons might place confidence. Nor was the selection ill made. Falk- land, Hyde, and Culpepper, all three distinguished by the part which they had taken in reforming abuses and in punishing evil ministers, were invited to become the confidential advisers of the crown, and were solemnly assured by Charles that he would take no step in any way affecting the I^ower House of Parliament without their privity. Had he kept this promise, it cannot be doubted that the reaction which was already in progress would very soon have become quite as strong as the most respect- able Royalists would have desired. Already the violent members of the opposition had begun to despair of the fortunes of their part}^ to tremble for their own safety, and to talk of selling their estates and emigrating to America. That the fair prospects which had begun to open before the King were suddenly overcast, that his life was darkened by adversit}^ and at length short- ened by violence, is to be attributed to his own faith- lessness and contempt of law. The truth seems to be that he detested both the par- ties into which the House of Commons was divided : nor is this strange ; for in both those parties the love of liberty and the love of order were mingled, though in different proportions. The advisers whom necessity had compelled him to call round him were by no means men after his own heart. They had joined in con- demning his tyranny, in abridging his power, and in punishing his instruments. The>' were now indeed prepared to defend in a strictly legal way his strictly Before the Restoration 125 legal prerogative ; but they would have recoiled with horror from the thought of revi\'ing Wentworth's pro- jects of Thorough. The}^ were, therefore, in the King's opinion, traitors, who differed only in the de- gree of their seditious malignity from P3^m and Hampden. He accordingly, a few days after he had promised the chiefs of the constitutional Royalists that no step im each- ^^ importance should be taken without their ment of the kuow^lcdgc, formcd 3. resolutiou the most five members. j^^j^g^^^Q^g of his wholc life, carefully con- cealed that resolution from them, and executed it in a manner which overwhelmed them with shame and dis- may. He sent the Attorne^^-general to impeach Pym, Hollis, Hampden, and other members of the House of Commons of high-treason at the bar of the House of Lords. Not content with this flagrant violation of the Great Charter and of the uninterrupted practice of cen- turies, he went in person, accompanied by armed men, to seize the leaders of the opposition within the walls of Parliament. The attempt failed. The accused members had left the House a short time before Charles entered it. A sudden and violent revulsion of feeling, both in the ParHament and in the country- followed. The most favorable view that has ever been taken of the King's conduct on this occasion by his most partial advocates is that he had weakly suffered himself to be hurried into a gross indiscretion by the evil counsels of his wife and of his courtiers. But the general voice loudly charged him with far deeper guilt. At the very mo- ment at which his subjects, after a long estrangement produced by his maladministration, were returning to 126 History of England hiiu with feelings of confidence and affection, he had aimed a deadly blow at all their dearest rights, at the privileges of Parliament, at the very principle of trial by jury. He had shown that he considered opposition to his arbitrary designs as a crime to be expiated only by blood. He had broken faith, not only with his Great Council and with his people, but with his own adherents. He had done what, but for an unforeseen accident, would probably have produced a bloody con- flict round the Speaker's chair. Those who had the chief sway in the I^ower House now felt that not only their power and popularity, but their lands and their necks, were staked on the event of the struggle in which they were engaged. The flagging zeal of the party opposed to the court revived in an instant. During the night which followed the outrage the whole city of London was in arms. In a few hours the roads leading to the capital were covered with multitudes of yeomen spurring hard to Westminster with the badges of the parliamentar}^ cause in their hats. In the House of Commons the opposition be- came at once irresistible, and carried, b}^ more than two votes to one, resolutions of unprecedented violence. Strong bodies of the trainbands, regularly relieved, mounted guard round Westminster Hall. The gates of the King's palace were daily besieged by a furious multitude whose taunts and execrations were heard even in the presence-chamber, and who could scarcely be kept out of the royal apartments b}^ the gentlemen of the household. Had Charles remained much longer in his stormy capital, it is probable that the Commons would have found a plea for making him, under out- ward forms of respect, a state-prisoner. Before the Restoration 127 He quitted lyondon, never to return till the day of a terrible and memorable reckoning had arrived. A Departure of negotiation began which occupied many Charles from mouths. Accusatious and recriminations London. passcd backward and forward between the contending parties. All accommodation had become impossible. The sure punishment which waits on habitual perfidy had at length overtaken the King. It was to no purpose that he now pawned his royal word, and invoked Heaven to witness the sincerity of his pro- fessions. The distrust with which his adversaries re- garded him was not to be removed b}^ oaths or treaties. They were convinced that they could be safe onl}^ when he was utterly helpless. Their demand, therefore, was, that he should surrender, not onl)^ those preroga- tives which he had usurped in violation of ancient laws and of his own recent promises, but also other preroga- tives which the English kings had alwa^-s possessed, and continue to possess at the present day. No min- ister must be appointed, no peer created, without the consent of the Houses. Above all, the sovereign must resign that supreme military authority which, from time beyond all memory, had appertained to the regal office. That Charles would comply with such demands while he had any means of resistance was not to be ex- pected. Yet it will be difficult to show that the Houses could safely have exacted less. They were truly in a most embarrassing position. The great majority of the nation was firml}' attached to hereditar>^ monarchy. Those who held republican opinions were as yet few, and did not venture to speak out. It was, therefore, impossible to abolish kingly government. Yet it was 128 History of England plain that no confidence could be placed in the King. It \^'ould liave been absurd in those who knew, by re- cent proof, that he was bent on destroying them, to content themselves with presenting to him another Petition of Right, and receiving from him fresh promises similar to those which he had repeatedly made and broken. Nothing but the want of an army had pre- vented him from entirely subverting the old constitu- tion of the realm. It was now necessary to levy a great regular army for the conquest of Ireland ; and it would therefore have been mere insanity to leave him in pos- session of that plenitude of military authorit}' which his ancestors had enjo3'ed. When a country is in a situation in which England then was, when tlie kingly office is regarded with love and veneration, but the person who fills that office is hated and distrusted, it should seem that the course which ought to be taken is obvious. The dignity of the office should be preserved : the person should be discarded. Thus our ancestors acted in 1399 and in 1689. Had there been, in 1642, any man occup34ng a position similar to that which Henry of Lancaster occupied at the time of the deposition of Richard the Second, and which William of Orange occupied at the time of the deposition of James the Second, it is prob- able that the Houses would have changed the dynasty, and would have made no formal change in the consti- tution. The new king, called to the throne by their choice, and dependent on their support, would have been under the necessity of governing in conformity with their wishes and opinions. But there was no prince of the blood royal in the parliamentary party ; and, though that party contained many men of high Before the Restoration 129 rank and many men of eminent ability, there was none who towered so conspicuously above the rest that he could be proposed as a candidate for the crown. As there was to be a king, and as no new king could be found, it was necessary to leave the regal title to Charles. Only one course, therefore, was left ; and that was to disjoin the regal title from the regal pre- rogatives. The change which the Houses proposed to make in our institutions, though it seems exorbitant, when dis- tinctly set forth and digested into articles of capitula- tion, reall}^ amounts to little more than the change which, in the next generation, was effected b}- the Revolution. It is true that, at the Revolution, the sovereign was not deprived by law of the power of naming his ministers : but it is equally true that, since the Revolution, no minister has been able to retain office six months in opposition to the sense of the House of Commons. It is true that the sovereign still pos- sesses the power of creating peers, and the more im- portant power of the sword : but it is equally true that in the exercise of these powers the sovereign has, ever since the Revolution, been guided by advisers who possess the confidence of the representatives of the nation. In fact, the leaders of the Roundhead party in 1642, and the statesmen who. about half a century later, effected the Revolution, had exactly the same object in view. That object was to terminate the con- test betv/een the Crown and the Parliament, by giving to the Parliament a supreme control over the executive administration. The statesmen of the Revolution effected this indirectly by changing the dynasty. The Roundheads of 1642, being unable to change the VOL. 1. 130 History of England dynasty, were compelled to take a direct course toward their end. We cannot, however, wonder that the demands of the opposition, importing as they did a complete and formal transfer to the Parliament of powers which had always belonged to the crown, should have shocked that great party of which the characteristics are re- spect for constituted authority and dread of violent innovation. That party had recently been in hopes of obtaining by peacable means the ascendency in the House of Commons ; but every such hope had been blighted. The duplicit}^ of Charles had made his old enemies irreconcilable, had driven back into the ranks of the disaffected a crowd of moderate men who were in the very act of coming over to his side, and had so cruell}^ mortified his best friends that the}^ had for a time stood aloof in silent shame and resentment. Now, however, the constitutional Ro3^alists were forced to make their choice between two dangers ; and the}" thought it their duty rather to rally round a prince whose past conduct they condemned, and whose word inspired them with little confidence, than to suffer the regal office to be degraded, and the polity of the realm to be entirely remodelled. With such feelings, many men whose virtues and abilities would have done honor to any cause ranged themselves on the side of the King. In August, 1642, the sword was at length drawn ; and soon, in almost every shire of the kingdom, two r^,^^»o.» hostile factions appeared in arms against t,ommence- -ri: o ment of the cacli otlicr. It is uot cas}^ to sa\' which of civji war. ^-^^ contending parties was at first the more formidable. The Houses commanded I^ondon and the Before the Restoration mi o counties round London, the fleet, the navigation of the Thames, and most of the large towns and seaports. They had at their disposal almost all the military stores of the kingdom, and were able to raise duties, both on goods imported from foreign countries, and on some important products of domestic industry. The King was ill provided with artillery and ammunition. The taxes which he laid on the rural districts occupied by his troops produced, it is probable, a sum far less than that which the Parliament drew from the city of Lon- don alone. He relied, indeed, chiefly, for pecuniary aid, on the munificence of his opulent adherents. Many of these mortgaged their land, pawned their jewels, and broke up their silver chargers and christening- bowls, in order to assist him. But experience has fully proved that the voluntary liberality of individuals, even in times of the greatest excitement, is a poor financial resource when compared with severe and methodical taxation, which presses on the willing and the unwilling alike. Charles, however, had one advantage, which, if he had used it well, would have more than compensated for the want of stores and money, and which, notwith- standing his mismanagement, gave him, during some months, a superiority in the war. His troops at first fought much better than those of the Parliament. Both armies, it is true, were almost entirely composed of men who had never seen a field of battle. Never- theless, the difference was great. The parliamentary ranks were filled with hirelings whom want and idle- ness had induced to enlist. Hampden's regiment was regarded as one of the best ; and even Hampden's regi- ment was described by Cromwell as a mere rabble of 132 History of England tapsters and serving-men out of place. The royal army, on the other hand, consisted in great part of gentlemen, high-spirited, ardent, accustomed to con- sider dishonor as more terrible than death, accustomed to fencing, to the use of fire-arms, to bold riding, and to manly and perilous sport, which has been well called the image of war. Such gentlemen, mounted on their favorite horses, and commanding little bands, com- posed of their younger brothers, grooms, game-keepers, and huntsmen, were, from the ver\' first day on which they took the field, qualified to play their part with credit in a skirmish. The steadiness, the prompt obe- dience, the mechanical precision of movement, which are characteristic of the regular soldier, these gallant volunteers never attained. But they were at first op- posed to enemies as undisciplined as themselves, and far less active, athletic, and daring. For a time, therefore, the Cavaliers were successful in almost every encounter. The Houses had also been unfortunate in the choice of a general. The rank and wealth of the Earl of Essex made him one of the most important members of the parliamentary party. He had borne arms on the Continent with credit, and, w^hen the war began, had as high a military reputation as any man in the coun- try. But it soon appeared that he was unfit for the post of commander-in-chief. He had little energy and no originality. The methodical tactics which he had learned in the war of the Palatinate did not save him from the disgrace of being surprised and baffled by such a captain as Rupert, who could claim no higher fame than that of an enterprising partisan. Nor were the officers who held the chief commissions under Essex qualified to supply what was wanting in Before the Restoration I him. For this, indeed, the Houses are scarcely to be blamed. In a country which had not, within the memory of the oldest person living, made war on a great scale by land, generals of tried skill and valor were not to be found. It was necessary, therefore, in the first instance, to trust untried men ; and the prefer- ence was naturally given to men distinguished either by their station or by the abilities which they had dis- played in Parliament. In scarcely a single instance, however, was the selection fortunate. Neither the grandees nor the orators proved good soldiers. The Earl of Stamford, one of the greatest nobles of Eng- land, was routed by the Royalists at Stratton. Na- thaniel Fiennes, inferior to none of his contemporaries in talents for civil business, disgraced himself by the pusillanimous surrender of Bristol. Indeed, of all the statesmen who at this juncture accepted high military commands, Hampden alone appears to have carried into the camp the capacity and strength of mind which had made him eminent in politics. When the war had lasted a year, the advantage was decidedly with the Roj^alists. The^^ were victorious, Successes both iu the western and in the northern of the counties. They had wrested Bristol, the second city in the kingdom, from the Parlia- ment. They had won several battles, and had not sus- tained a single serious or ignominious defeat. Among the Roundheads adversity had begun to produce dissension and discontent. The Parliament was kept in alarm, sometimes by plots, and sometimes by riots. It was thought necessary to fortify London against the royal army, and to hang some disaffected citizens at their own doors. Several of the most distinguished peers 134 History of England who had hitherto remained at Westminster fled to the court at Oxford ; nor can it be doubted that, if the operations of the CavaHers had at this season been directed b}^ a sagacious and powerful mind, Charles would soon have marched in triumph to Whitehall. But the King suffered the auspicious moment to pass away; and it never returned. In August, 1643, he sat down before the city of Gloucester. That city was defended by the inhabitants and by the garrison, with a determination such as had not, since the commence- ment of the war, been shown by the adherents of the Parliament. The emulation of London was excited. The trainbands of the City volunteered to march wher- ever their services might be required. A great force was speedily collected, and began to move westward. The siege of Gloucester was raised ; the Royalists in every part of the kingdom were disheartened ; the spirit of the parliamentary party revived ; and the apostate lords, who had lately fled from Westminster to Oxford, hastened back from Oxford to Westminster. And now a new and alarming class of symptoms be- gan to appear in the distempered bod3'-politic. There Rise of the ^^^ bccu, froni tlic first, in the parliament- independ- ary partv, some men whose minds were set ^"*^" on objects from which the majorit}' of that party would have shrunk with horror. These men were, in religion. Independents. They conceived that every Christian congregation had, under Christ, su- preme jurisdiction in things spiritual ; that appeals to provincial and national synods were scarcely less unscriptural than appeals to the Court of Arches or to the Vatican ; and that Poper}^ Prelacy, and Pres- byterianism were merely three forms of one great Before the Restoration 135 apostasy. In politics the Independents were, to use the phrase of their time, root-and-branch men, or, to use the kindred phrase of our own time, radicals. Not content w^ith limiting the power of the monarch, they were desirous to erect a commonwealth on the ruins of the old English polity. At first they had been inconsiderable, both in numbers and in weight ; but before the war had lasted two years the>' became, not indeed the largest, but the most powerful faction in the country. Some of the old parliamentary leaders had been removed by death ; and others had forfeited the public confidence. Pym had been borne, with princely honors, to a grave among the Plantagenets. Hampden had fallen, as became him, while vainly endeavoring, by his heroic example, to inspire his followers with courage to face the fiery cavalry of Rupert. Bed- ford had been untrue to the cause. Northumberland was known to be lukew^arm. Essex and his lieu- tenants had shown little vigor and ability in the con- duct of military operations. At such a conjuncture, it was that the Independent party, ardent, resolute, and uncompromising, began to raise its head, both in the camp and in the Hou.se of Commons. The soul of that party was Oliver Cromwell. Bred to peaceful occupations, he had, at more than forty years of age, accepted a commission in the Cromwell parliamentary army. No sooner had he become a soldier than he discerned, with the keen glance of genius, what Essex and men like Es.sex, with all their experience, were unable to per- ceive. He saw precisely where the strength of the Royalists lay, and by what means alone that strength could be overpowered. He saw that it was necessary 13^ History of England to reconstruct the army of the Parliament. He saw also that there were abundant and excellent materials for the purpose, materials less showy, indeed, but more solid, than those of which the gallant squadrons of the King were composed. It was necessary to look for re- cruits who were not mere mercenaries, for recruits of decent station and grave character, fearing God and zealous for public liberty. With such men he filled his own regiment, and, while he subjected them to a discipline more rigid than had ever before been known in England, he administered to their intellectual and moral nature stimulants of fearful potency. The events of the year 1644 fully proved the superi- ority of his abilities. In the south, where Essex held the command, the parliamentary^ forces underwent a succession of shameful disasters ; but in the north the victory of Marston Moor fully compensated for all that had been lost elsewhere. That victory was not a more serious blow to the Royalists than to the party which had hitherto been dominant at Westminster ; for it was notorious that the day, disgracefully lost by the Pres- byterians, had been retrieved by the energy of Crom- well, and by the steady valor of the warriors whom he had trained. These events produced the Self-denying Ordinance and the new model of the army. Under decorous pre- texts, and with every mark of respect, Essex o^rdinancl"^ ^"^ ^^st of thosc who had held high posts under him were removed ; and the conduct of the war was intrusted to very different hands. Fair- fax, a brave soldier, but of mean understanding and irresolute temper, was the nominal Lord General of the forces ; but Cromwell was their real head. Oliver Crontivell From a painting by Sir P,t,r Lely 4^ y./. ' J,, y ^,^,. , ,,.j^- Before the Restoration 137 Cromwell made haste to organize the whole army on the same principles on which he had organized his own regiment. As soon as this process was complete, the event of the war was decided. The Cavaliers had now to encounter natural courage equal to their own, en- thusiasm stronger than their own, and discipline such as was utterly wanting to them. It soon became a proverb that the soldiers of Fairfax and Cromwell were men of a different breed from the soldiers of Essex. At Naseby took place the first great encounter between the Royalists and the remodelled array of the Houses. The victory of the Roundheads was com- pldi'ament. ^ P^^^^ ^^^^ dccisivc. It was followcd by other triumphs in rapid succession. In a few months the authority of the Parliament was fully established over the whole kingdom. Charles fled to the Scots, and was by them, in a manner which did not much exalt their national character, delivered up to his English subjects. While the event of the war was still doubtful, the Houses had put the Primate to death, had interdicted, within the sphere of their authority, the use of the Liturgy, and had required all men to subscribe that re- nowned instrument known by the name of the Solemn League and Covenant. Covenanting work, as it was called, went on fast. Hundreds of thousands affixed their names to the rolls, and, with hands lifted up toward heaven, swore to endeavor, without respect of persons, the extirpation of Poper^^ and Prelac}^ heresy and schism, and to bring to public trial and condign punishment all who should hinder the reformation of religion. When the struggle was over, the work of in- novation and revenge was pushed on with increased 13S History of England ardor. The ecclesiastical polity of the kingdom was remodelled. Most of the old clergy were ejected from their benefices. Fines, often of ruinous amount, were laid on the Royalists, already impoverished b}^ large aids furnished to the King. Man}^ estates were confis- cated. Many proscribed Cavaliers found it expedient to purchase, at an enormous cost, the protection of eminent members of the victorious party. Large domains, belonging to the crown, to the bishops, and to the chapters, were seized, and either granted away or put up to auction. In consequence of these spolia- tions, a great part of the soil of England was at once offered for sale. As money was scarce, as the market was glutted, as the title was insecure, and as the awe inspired by powerful bidders prev^ented free competi- tion, the prices were often merel}' nominal. Thus many old and honorable families disappeared and were heard of no more ; and many new men rose rapidly to affluence. But, while the Houses were employing their author- ity thus, it suddenly passed out of their hands. It had been obtained by calling into existence a power which could not be controlled. In the summer of 1647, about twelve months after the last fortress of the Cavaliers had submitted to the Parliament, the Parliament was compelled to submit to its own soldiers. Thirteen years followed, during which England was, under various names and forms, really governed by the „ . ,. sword. Never before that time, or since Domination ' and character that tiuic, was the civil powcr iu our coun- of the army. ^^^ subjcctcd to military dictation. The army which now became supreme in the state was an army very different from any that has since been Before the Restoration 139 seen among us. At present the pay of the common soldier is not such as can seduce any but the humblest class of English laborers from their calling. A barrier almost impassable separates him from the commissioned officer. The great majority of those who rise high in the service rise by purchase. So numerous and exten- sive are the remote dependencies of England, that every man who enlists in the line must expect to pass many years in exile, and some 3'ears in climates unfavorable to the health and vigor of the European race. The arm}^ of the Long Parliament was raised for home service. The pay of the private soldier was much above the wages earned by the great body of the people; and, if he distinguished himself by inteUigence and courage, he might hope to attain high commands. The ranks w^ere accordingly composed of persons superior in station and education to the multitude. These persons, sober, moral, diligent, and accustomed to reflect, had been induced to take up arms, not by the pressure of want, not b}^ the love of novelty and license, not b}' the arts of recruiting ofiicers, but by re- ligious and political zeal, mingled with the desire of distinction and promotion. The boast of the soldiers, as we find it recorded in their solemn resolutions, was that they had not been forced into the service, nor had enlisted chiefly for the sake of lucre, that they w^ere no janizaries, but freeborn Englishmen, wlio had, of their own accord, put their lives in jeopardy for the liberties and religion of England, and w^hose right and duty it was to watch over the welfare of the nation which they had saved. A force thus composed might, without injury to its efficiency, be indulged in some liberties which, if al- I40 History of England lowed to any other troops, would have proved subver- sive of all discipline. In general, soldiers who should form themselves into political clubs, elect delegates, and pass resolutions on high questions of state, would soon break loose from all control, would cease to form an army, and would become the worst and most dangerous of mobs. Nor would it be safe, in our time, to tolerate in any regiment religious meetings at which a corporal versed in Scripture should lead the devotions of his less gifted colonel, and admonish a backsliding major. But such was the intelligence, the gravity, and the self- command of the warriors whom Cromwell had trained, that in their camp a political organization and a re- ligious organization could exist without destroying military organization. The same men, who, off duty, were noted as demagogues and field-preachers, were distinguished by steadiness, by the spirit of order, and by prompt obedience on watch, on drill, and on the field of battle. In war this strange force was irresistible. The stub- born courage characteristic of the English people was, by the system of Cromwell, at once regulated and stimulated. Other leaders have maintained order as strict. Other leaders have inspired their followers with zeal as ardent. But in his camp alone the most rigid discipline was found in company with the fiercest en- thusiasm. His troops moved to victor}^ with the pre- cision of machines, while burning wdth the wildest fanaticism of Crusaders. From the time when the army was remodelled to the time when it was dis- banded, it never found, either in the British islands or on the Continent, an enemy who could stand its onset. In England, Scotland, Ireland, Flanders, the Puritan Before the Restoration 141 warriors, often surrounded by difficulties, sometimes contending against threefold odds, not only never failed to conquer, but never failed to destroy and break in pieces whatever force was opposed to them. They at length came to regard the day of battle as a day of certain triumph, and marched against the most re- nowned battalions of Europe with disdainful confidence. Turenne was startled by the shout of stern exultation with which his English allies advanced to the combat, and expressed the delight of a true soldier when he learned that it was ever the fashion of Cromwell's pike- men to rejoice greatl> when they beheld the enemy ; and the banished Cavaliers felt an emotion of national pride when they saw a brigade of their countrymen, outnumbered by foes and abandoned by friends, drive before it in headlong rout the finest infantry of Spain, and force a passage into a counterscarp which had just been pronounced impregnable by the ablest of the mar- shals of France. But that which chiefly distinguished the army of Cromwell from other armies was the austere morality and the fear of God which pervaded all ranks. It is acknowledged b}- the most zealous Royalists that, in that singular camp, no oath was heard, no drunkenness or gambling was seen, and that, during the long do- minion of the soldiery, the property of the peaceable citizen and the honor of woman were held sacred. If outrages were committed, they were outrages of a very different kind from those of which a victorious anny is generall}^ guilty. No servant-girl complained of the rough gallantry of the redcoats. Not an ounce of plate was taken from the shops of the goldsmiths. But a Pelagian sermon, or a window on which the Virgin 142 History of England and Child were painted, produced in the Puritan ranks an excitement which it required the utmost exertions of the officers to quell. One of Cromwell's chief diffi- culties was to restrain his musketeers and dragoons from invading by main force the pulpits of ministers whose discourses, to use the language of that time, were not savor}'^ ; and too many of our cathedrals still bear the marks of the hatred with which those stern spirits regarded every vestige of Popery. To keep down the English people was no light task even for that anny. No sooner was the first pressure Risings of military tyrann}^ felt, than the nation, against uubrokeu to such servitude, began to strug- the military . government glc fiercely. Insurrcctious broke out even suppressed, jj-j ^j^Qse counties which, during the recent war, had been the most submissive to the Parliament. Indeed, the Parliament itself abhorred its old defenders more than its old enemies, and was desirous to come to terms of accommodation with Charles at the expense of the troops. In Scotland, at the same time, a coali- tion was formed between the Royalists and a large body of Presbyterians who regarded the doctrines of the In- dependents with detestation. At length the storm burst. There were risings in Norfolk, Sufflalk, Essex, Kent, Wales. The fleet in the Thames suddenly hoisted the royal colors, stood out to sea, and menaced the southern coast. A great Scottish force crossed the frontier and advanced into I^ancashire. It might well be svispected that these movements were contemplated with secret complacency by a majority both of the Lords and of the Commons. But the yoke of the army was not to be shaken off. While Fairfax suppressed the risings in the neighbor- Oliver Cromwell From a draining by J. L. Willi, anis =^] "^s^TR^pf Before the Restoration 14 '> hood of the capital, Oliver routed the Welsh insurgents, and, leaving their castles in ruins, marched against the Scots. His troops were few, when compared with the invaders ; but he was little in the habit ot counting his enemies. The Scottish army was utterly destroyed. A change in the Scottish government followed. An administration, hostile to the King, was formed at Edinburgh ; and Cromwell, more than ever the darling of his soldiers, returned in triumph to London. And now a design, to which, at the commencement of the civil war, no man w^ould have dared to allude, „ ,. and which was not less inconsistent with Proceedings against the the solcmu Lcaguc and Covenant than wila ^'"^" the old law of England, began to take a dis- tinct form. The austere warriors who ruled the nation had, during some months, meditated a fearful ven- geance on the captive King. When and how the scheme originated ; whether it spread from the general to the ranks, or from the ranks to the general ; whether it is to be ascribed to policy- using fanaticism as a tool, or to fanaticism bearing down policy with headlong impulse, are questions which, even at this da}^ cannot be answered with perfect confidence. It seems, how- ever, on the whole, probable that he who seemed to lead was really forced to follow, and that, on this occa- sion, as on another great occasion a few years later, he sacrificed his own judgment and his own inclinations to the wishes of the army. For the power which he had called into existence was a power which even he could not always control ; and, that he might ordinarily command, it was necessary that he should sometimes obey. He publicly protested that he was no mover in the matter, that the first steps had been taken without 144 History of England his privity, that he could not advise the Parhament to strike the blow, but that he submitted his own feelings to the force of circumstances which seemed to him to indicate the purposes of Providence. It has been the fashion to consider these professions as instances of the hypocrisy which is vulgarly imputed to him. But even those who pronounce him a hypocrite will scarcely venture to call him a fool. They are, therefore, bound to show that he had some purpose to serve by secretly stimulating the army to take that course which he did not venture openly to recommend. It would be absurd to suppose that he, who was never by his respectable enemies represented as wantonly cruel or implacably vindictive, would have taken the most important step of his life under the influence of mere malevolence. He was far too wise a man not to know, when he con- sented to shed that august blood, that he was doing a deed which was inexpiable, and which would move the grief and horror, not only of the Royalists, but of nine tenths of those who had stood by the Parliament. Whatever visions may have deluded others, he was assuredly dreaming neither of a republic on the antique pattern, nor of the millennial reign of the saints. If he already aspired to be himself the founder of a new dynasty, it was plain that Charles the First was a less formidable competitor than Charles the Second would be. At the moment of the death of Charles the First, the loyalty of ever}^ Cavalier would be transferred, un- impaired, to Charles the Second. Charles the First was a captive : Charles the Second would be at liberty. Charles the First was an object of suspicion and dislike to a large proportion of those who yet shuddered at the thought of slaying him : Charles the Second would ex- Before the Restoration 145 cite all the interest which belongs to distressed youth and innocence. It is impossible to believe that con- siderations so obvious and so important escaped the most profound politician of that age. The truth is, that Cromwell had, at one time, meant to mediate be- tween the throne and the Parliament, and to reorganize the distracted state b}- the power of the sword, under the sanction of the royal name. In this design he per- sisted till he was compelled to abandon it by the re- fractory- temper of the soldiers, and by the incurable duplicity of the King. A party in the Camp began to clamor for the head of the traitor, who was for treating with Agag. Conspiracies were formed. Threats of impeachment were loudly uttered. A mutiny broke out, which all the vigor and resolution of Oliver could hardly quell. And though, by a judicious mixture of severity and kindness, he succeeded in restoring order, he saw that it would be in the highest degree difficult and perilous to contend against the rage of warriors, who regarded the fallen tyrant as their foe, and as the foe of their God, At the same time it became more evident than ever that the King could not be trusted. The vices of Charles had grown upon him. They were, indeed, vices which difficulties and perplexities gener- ally bring out in the strongest light. Cunning is the natural defence of the weak. A prince, therefore, who is habitually a deceiver when at the height of power, is not likely to learn frankness in the midst of embarrass- ments and distresses. Charles was not only a most unscrupulous, but a most unlucky dissembler. There never was a politician to whom so many frauds and falsehoods were brought home by undeniable evidence. He publicly recognized the Houses at Westminster as VOL. I — 10 14^ History of England a legal Parliament, and, at the same time, made a private minute in council declaring the recognition null. He publicly disclaimed all thought of calling in foreign aid against his people : he privately solicited aid from France, from Denmark, and from Lorraine. He pub- licly denied that he employed Papists : at the same time he privately sent to his generals directions to em- ploy everj^ Papist that would serve. He publicly took the sacrament at Oxford, as a pledge that he never would even connive at Popery : he privately assured his wife that he intended to tolerate Popery in Eng- land ; and he authorized Lord Glamorgan to promise that Poper}^ should be established in Ireland. Then he attempted to clear himself at his agent's expense. Glamorgan received, in the royal handwriting, repri- mands intended to be read by others, and eulogies which were to be seen only by himself. To such an extent, indeed, had insincerity now tainted the King's whole nature, that his most devoted friends could not refrain from complaining to each other, with bitter grief and shame, of his crooked politics. His defeats, they said, gave them less pain than his intrigues. Since he had been a prisoner, there was no section of the victori- ous party which had not been the object both of his flatteries and of his machinations : but never was he more unfortunate than when he attempted at once to cajole and to undermine Cromwell. Cromwell had to determine whether he would put to hazard the attachment of his party, the attachment of his army, his own greatness, nay, his own life, in an attempt, which would probably have been vain, to save a prince whom no engagement could bind. With many struggles and misgivings, and probably not without Before the Restoration 147 many prayers, the decision was made. Charles was left to his fate. The militan,- saints resolved that, in defiance of the old laws of the realm and of the almost universal sentiment of the nation, the King should ex- piate his crimes with his blood. He for a time expected a death like that of his unhappy predecessors, Edward the Second and Richard the Second. But he was in no danger of such treason. Those who had him in their gripe were not midnight stabbers. What they did they did in order that it might be a spectacle to heaven and earth, and that it might be held in ever- lasting remembrance. They enjoyed keenly the very scandal which they gave. That the ancient constitu- tion and the public opinion of England were directly opposed to regicide, made regicide seem strangely fas- cinating to a part}' bent on effecting a complete political and social revolution. In order to accomplish their purpose, it was necessar>^ that they should first break in pieces every part of the machinery of the govern- ment ; and this necessitv was rather agreeable than painful to them. The Commons passed a vote tending to accommodation with the King. The soldiers ex- cluded the majorit}' by force. The Lords unanimously rejected the proposition that the King should be brought to trial. Their house was instantly closed. No court, known to the law, would take on itself the office of judging the fountain of justice. A revolu- tionary tribunal was created. That tribunal H^sexecu- pj-Qnounced Charles a tyrant, a traitor, a murderer, and a public enemy ; and his head was severed from his shoulders, before thousands of spectators, in front of the banqueting-hall of his own palace. 148 History of England In 110 long time it became manifest that those politi- cal and religious zealots, to whom this deed is to be ascribed, had committed, not only a crime, but an error. They had given to a prince, hitherto known to his people chiefly by his faults, an opportunity of dis- playing, on a great theatre, before the eyes of all nations and all ages, some qualities which irresistibly call forth the admiration and love of mankind, the high spirit of a gallant gentleman, the patience and meekness of a penitent Christian. Nay, they had so contrived their revenge that the very man whose life had been a series of attacks on the liberties of England now seemed to die a martyr in the cause of those liberties. No dema- gogue ever produced such an impression on the public mind as the captive King, who, retaining in that ex- tremity all his regal dignity, and confronting death with dauntless courage, gave utterance to the feelings of his oppressed people, manfully refused to plead be- fore a court unknown to the law, appealed from mili- tary violence to the principles of the constitution, asked by what right the House of Commons had been purged of its most respectable members and the House of Lords deprived of its legislative functions, and told his weep- ing hearers that he was defending, not only his own cause, but theirs. His long misgovernment, his in- numerable perfidies, were forgotten. His memor}' was, in the minds of the great majorit}^ of his subjects, associated with those free institutions which he had, during mau}^ years, labored to destroy : for those free institutions had perished with him, and, amidst the mournful silence of a communit}^ kept down by arms, had been defended l^y his voice alone. From that day began a reaction in favor of monarchy and of the ex- Before the Restoration 149 iled house, a reaction which never ceased till the throne had again been set up in all its old dignity. At first, however, the slayers of the King seemed to have derived new energy from that sacrament of blood bj' which they had bound themselves closely together, and separated themselves forever from the great body of their countrymen. England was declared a com- monwealth. The House of Commons, reduced to a smaller number of members, was nominally the supreme power in the state. In fact, the army and its great chief governed everj'thing. Oliver had made his choice. He had kept the hearts of his soldiers, and had broken with almost every other class of his fellow- citizens. Beyond the limits of his camps and fortresses he could scarcely be said to have a party. Those ele- ments of force which, when the civil war broke out, had appeared arra^'ed against each other, were com- bined against him; all the Cavaliers, the great majority of the Roundheads, the Anglican Church, the Presby- terian Church, the Roman Catholic Church, England, Scotland, Ireland. Yet such was his genius and reso- lution that he was able to overpower and crush every- thing that crossed his path, to make himself more absolute master of his country than any of her legiti- mate kings had been, and to make his country more dreaded and respected than she had been during many generations under the rule of her legitimate kings. England had already ceased to struggle. But the two other kingdoms which had been governed by the Stuarts were hostile to the new republic. The Inde- pendent party was equally odious to the Roman Catho- lics of Ireland and to the Presbyterians of Scotland. Both those countries, lately in rebellion against Charles 150 History of England the First, now acknowledged the authorit}^ of Charles the Second, But everything yielded to the vigor and ability of Cromwell. In a few months he subjugated Ireland, as subu ation ^^'^^^^^^^ tiad uever been subjugated during of Ireland the fivc ccnturics of slaughter which had and Scotland, gi^pscd siucc the landing of the first Norman settlers. He resolved to put an end to that conflict of races and religions which had so long distracted the island, by making the English and Protestant popula- tion decidedly predominant. For this end he gave the rein to the fierce enthusiasm of his followers, waged war resembling that which Israel waged on the Canaan- ites, smote the idolaters with the edge of the sword, so that great cities were left without inhabitants, drove many thousands to the Continent, shipped off many thousands to the West Indies, and supplied the void thus made b}- pouring in numerous colonists, of Saxon blood and of Calvinistic faith. Strange to sa}-, under that iron rule, the conquered country began to wear an outward face of prosperity. Districts which had re- cently been as wild as those where the first white settlers of Connecticut were contending with the red men, were in a few 3'ears transformed into the likeness of Kent and Norfolk. New buildings, roads, and plan- tations were everywhere seen. The rent of estates rose fast ; and soon the English land-owners began to complain that they were met in every market by the products of Ireland, and to clamor for protecting laws. From Ireland the victorious chief, who was now in name, as he had long been in realit}^ I^ord General of the aniiies of the Commonwealth, turned to Scotland. The young King was there. He had consented to Before the Restoration 151 profess himself a Presbyterian, and to subscribe the Covenant ; and, in return for these concessions, the austere Puritans who bore sway at Edinburgh had per- mitted him to assume the crown, and to hold, under their inspection and control, a solemn and melancholy court. This mock royalty was of short duration. In two great battles Cromwell annihilated the military force of Scotland. Charles fled for his life, and, with extreme difficulty, escaped the fate of his father. The ancient kingdom of the Stuarts was reduced, for the first time, to profound submission. Of that inde- pendence, so manfully defended against the mightiest and ablest of the Plantagenets, no vestige was left. The English Parliament made laws for Scotland. English judges held assizes in Scotland. Even that stubborn Church, w^hich has held its own against so many governments, scarce dared to utter an audible murmur. Thus far there had been at least the semblance of har- mony between the warriors who had subjugated Ireland Ex uision of ^^^ Scotlaud aud the politicians who sat at the Long Westminster ; but the alliance w^hich had Parliament. ]^q^q^ ccmeuted by danger was dissolved by victory. The Parliament forgot that it was but the creature of the army. The army was less disposed than ever to submit to the dictation of the Parliament. Indeed, the few^ members w^ho made up what was con- temptuously called the Rump of the House of Com- mons had no more claim than the military chiefs to be esteemed the representatives of the nation. The dis- pute was soon brought to a decisive issue. Cromwell filled the House with armed men. The Speaker was pulled out of his chair, the mace taken from the table, 152 History of England the room cleared, and the door locked. The nation, which lov^ed neither of the contending parties, but which was forced, in its own despite, to respect the capacity and resolution of the General, looked on with patience, if not with complacenc3\ King, Lords, and Commons had now in turn been vanquished and destroyed; and Cromwell seemed to be left the sole heir of the powers of all three. Yet were certain limitations still imposed on him b}^ the very army to which he owed his immense authority. That singular body of men was, for the most part, composed of zealous republicans. In the act of enslaving their country, they had deceived themselves into the belief that they were emancipating her. The book which they most venerated furnished them with a precedent which was frequently in their mouths. It was true that the ignorant and ungrateful nation murmured against its deliverers. Even so had another chosen nation murmured against the leader who brought it, b}^ painful and dreary paths, from the house of bondage to the land flowing with milk and honey. Yet had that leader rescued his brethren in spite of themselves ; nor had he shrunk from making terrible examples of those who contemned the proffered freedom, and pined for the flesh-pots, the taskmasters, and the idolatries of Egypt. The object of the warlike saints who sur- rounded Cromwell was the settlement of a free and pious commonwealth. For that end they were ready to emplo}^ without scruple, any means, however vio- lent and lawless. It was not impossible, therefore, to establish by their aid a dictatorship such as no king had ever exercised ; but it was probable that their aid would be at once withdrawn from a ruler who, even Before the Restoration 153 under strict constitutional restraints, should venture to assume the kingly name and dignity. The sentiments of Cromwell were widely different. He was not what he had been ; nor would it be just to consider the change which his views had undergone as the effect merely of selfish ambition. He had, when he came up to the Long Parliament, brought with him from his rural retreat little knowledge of books, no ex- perience of great affairs, and a temper galled by the long tyranny of the government and of the hierarchy. He had, during the thirteen years w^hich followed, gone through a political education of no common kind. He had been the chief actor in a succession of revo- lutions. He had been long the soul, and at last the head, of a party. He had commanded armies, w^on battles, negotiated treaties, subdued, pacified, and regulated kingdoms. It would have been strange in- deed if his notions had been still the same as in the days when his mind was principally occupied by his fields and his religion, and when the greatest events which diversified the course of his life were a cattle-fair or a prayer-meeting at Huntingdon. He saw that some schemes of innovation for which he had once been zealous, whether good or bad in themselves, were opposed to the general feeling of the country, and that, if he persevered in those schemes, he had nothing be- fore him but constant troubles, which must be sup- pressed by the constant use of the sword. He therefore wished to restore, in all essentials, that ancient consti- tution which the majority of the people had always loved, and for which they now pined. The course afterward taken by Monk was not open to Cromwell. The memory of one terrible day separated the great T54 History of England regicide forever from the House of Stuart. What re- mained was that he should mount the ancient English throne, and reign according to the ancient English polity. If he could effect this, he might hope that the wounds of the lacerated state would heal fast. Great numbers of lionest and quiet men would speedily rally round him. Those Royalists whose attachment was rather to institutions than to persons, to the kingly office than to King Charles the First or King Charles the Second, would soon kiss the hand of King Oliver. The peers, who now remained sullenly at their country houses, and refused to take an}- part in public affairs, would, when summoned to their House by the writ of a king in possession, gladly resume their ancient func- tions. Northumberland and Bedford, Manchester and Pembroke, would be proud to bear the crown and the spurs, the sceptre and the globe, before the restorer of aristocracy. A sentiment of lo\^alty would gradually bind the people to the new dynasty ; and, on the decease of the founder of that dynasty, the royal dignity might destend with general acquiescence to his posterity. The ablest Royalists were of opinion that these views were correct, and that, if Cromwell had been permitted to follow his own judgment, the exiled line would never have been restored. But his plan was directly opposed to the feelings of the only class which he dared not offend. The name of king was hateful to the soldiers. Some of them were indeed unwilling to see the administration in the hands of any single per- son. The great majority, however, were disposed to support their general, as elective first magistrate of a commonwealth, against all factions which might resist his authorit}^ : but they would not consent that he Genei^al Geoj^ge Monk Before the Restoration 155 should assume the regal title, or that the dignity, which was the just reward of his personal merit, should be declared hereditary in his family. All that was left to him was to give to the new republic a constitution as like the constitution of the old monarchy as the army would bear. That his elevation to power might not seem to be merely his own act, he convoked a council, composed partly of persons on whose support he could depend, and partly of persons whose opposi- tion he might safel}' defy. This assembly, which he called a parliament, and which the populace nick- named, from one of the most conspicuous members, Barebone's Parliament, after exposing itself during a short time to the public contempt, surrendered back to the General the powers which it had received from him, and left him at liberty to frame a plan of government. His plan bore, from the first, a considerable re- semblance to the old English constitution : but, in a few years, he thought it safe to proceed The Pro- . , , ^ , -^ - tectorate farther, and to restore almost every part oi of Oliver the aucicnt system under new names and romwe . fQj-ms. The title of King was not revived : but the kingly prerogatives were intrusted to a Lord High Protector. The sovereign was called not His Majesty, but His Highness. He was not crowned and anointed in Westminster Abbey, but was solemnly en- throned, girt with a sword of state, clad in a robe of purple, and presented w^ith a rich Bible, in Westmins- ter Hall. His office was not declared hereditary : but he was permitted to name his successor ; and none could doubt that he would name his son. A House of Commons was a necessary part of the new polity. In constituting this body, the Protector 15^ History of England showed a wisdom and a public spirit which were not duly appreciated by his contemporaries. The vices of the old representative system, though by no means so serious as they afterward became, had already been re- marked by far-sighted men. Cromwell reformed that system on the same principles on which Mr. Pitt, a hundred and thirty years later, attempted to reform it, and on which it was at length reformed in our own times. Small boroughs were disfranchised even more unsparingly than in 1832 ; and the number of county members was greatly increased. Very few unrepre- sented towns had yet grown into importance. Of those towns the most considerable were Manchester, Leeds, and Halifax. Representatives were given to all three. An addition was made to the number of the members for the capital. The elective franchise was placed on such a footing that ever}^ man of substance, whether possessed of freehold estates in land or not, had a vote for the county in which he resided. A few Scotchmen and a few of the English colonists settled in Ireland were summoned to the assembly which was to legislate, at Westminster, for every part of the British isles. To create a House of Lords was a less easy task. Democracy does not require the support of prescription. Monarchy has often stood without that support. But a patrician order is the work of time. Oliver found already existing a nobility, opulent, highly considered, and as popular with the commonalty as any nobility has ever been. Had he, as King of England, com- manded the peers to meet him in Parliament according to the old usage of the realm, many of them would un- doubtedly have obej^ed the call. This he could not do ; and it was to no purpose that he offered to the chiefs of Before the Restoration 157 illustrious families seats in his new senate. They conceived that they could not accept a nomination to an upstart assembly without renouncins; their birth- right and betraying their order. The Protector was, therefore, under the necessity of filling his Upper House with new men who, during the late stirring times, had made themseh'es conspicuous. This was the least happy of his contrivances, and displeased all parties. The Levellers were angry with him for insti- tuting a privileged class. The multitude which felt respect and fondness for the great historical names of the land, laughed without restraint at a House of Lords in which lucky draymen and shoemakers were seated, to which few of the old nobles were invited, and from which almost all those old nobles who were invited turned disdainfully away. How Oliver's parliaments were constituted, however, was practically of little moment ; for he possessed the means of conducting the administration without their support, and in defiance of their opposition. His wish seems to have been to govern constitutionally, and to substitute the empire of the laws for that of the sword. But he soon found that, hated as he was both by Royalists and Presbyterians, he could be safe only b}" being absolute. The first House of Commons which the people elected by his command, questioned his authority, and was dissolved without having passed a single act. His second House of Commons, though it recognized him as Protector, and would gladly have made him king, obstinatel}' refused to acknowledge his new lords. He had no course left but to dissolve the Parliament. "God," he exclaimed, at parting, "be judge between you and me ! " 15S History of England Yet was the energy of the Protector's administration in nowise relaxed by these dissensions. Those soldiers who would not suffer him to assume the kingly title stood by him when he ventured on acts of power, as high as any English king has ever attempted. The government, therefore, though in form a republic, was in truth a despotism, moderated only by the wisdom, the sobriety, and the magnanimity of the despot. The country was divided into military districts. Those dis- tricts were placed under the command of major-gener- als. Every insurrectionary movement was promptly put down and punished. The fear inspired by the power of the sword, in so strong, steady, and expert a hand, quelled the spirit both of Cavaliers and lycvel- lers. The loyal gentr}' declared that thej^ were still as read}^ as ever to risk their lives for the old govern- ment and the old dynasty, if there were the slightest hope of success, but to rush, at the head of their serv- ing-men and tenants, on the pikes of brigades victorious in a hundred battles and sieges, would be a frantic waste of innocent and honorable blood. Both Roj'alists and Republicans, having no hope in open resistance, began to revolve dark schemes of assassination : but the Protector's intelligence was good ; his vigilance was unremitting; and, whenever he moved beyond the walls of his palace, the drawn swords and cuirasses of his trusty bod3^-guards encompassed him thick on every side. Had he been a cruel, licentious, and rapacious prince, the nation might have found courage in despair, and might have made a convulsive effort to free itself from militar>^ domination. But the grievances which the country suffered, though such as excited serious discon- Before the Restoration 159 tent, were b}- uo means such as impel great masses of men to stake their hves, their fortunes, and the welfare of their families against fearful odds. The taxation, though heavier than it had been under the Stuarts, was not heav}^ when compared with that of the neigh- boring states and with the resources of England. Property was secure. Even the Cavalier, who re- frained from giving disturbance to the new settlement, enjoyed in peace whatever the civil troubles had left him. The laws were violated only in cases where the safet}' of the Protector's person and government was concerned. Justice was administered between man and man with an exactness and purity not before known. Under no English government since the Reformation had there been so little religious persecu- tion. The unfortunate Roman Catholics, indeed, were held to be scarcely within the pale of Christian charity. But the clergy of the fallen Anglican Church were suffered to celebrate their worship on condition that they would abstain from preaching about politics. Even the Jews, whose public worship had, ever since the thirteenth centur}^, been interdicted, were, in spite of the strong opposition of jealous traders and fanatical theologians, permitted to build a synagogue in Eon- don. The Protector's foreign policy at the same time ex- torted the ungracious approbation of those who most detested him. The Cavaliers could scarcely refrain from wishing that one who had done so much to raise the fame of the nation had been a legitimate king ; and the Republicans were forced to own that the tyrant suffered none but himself to wrong his country, and that, if he had robbed her of liberty, he had at least i6o History of England given her glory in exchange. After half a century, during which England had been of scarcely more weight in European politics than Venice or Saxony, she at once became the most formidable power in the world, dictated terms of peace to the United Provinces, avenged the common injuries of Christendom on the pirates of Barbary, vanquished the Spaniards by land and sea, seized one of the finest West Indian islands, and acquired on the Flemish coast a fortress which con- soled the national pride for the loss of Calais. She was supreme on the ocean. She was the head of the Pro- testant interest. All the reformed churches scattered over Roman Catholic kingdoms acknowledged Crom- well as their guardian. The Huguenots of Languedoc, the shepherds who, in the hamlets of the Alps, pro- fessed a Protestantism older than that of Augsburg, were secured from oppression by the mere terror of his great name. The Pope himself was forced to preach humanity and moderation to Popish princes. For a voice which seldom threatened in vain had declared that, unless favor were shown to the people of God, the English guns should be heard in the Castle of Saint Angelo. In truth, there was nothing which Cromwell had, for his own sake and that of his famil}^ so much reason to desire as a general religious war in Europe. In such a war he must have been the captain of the Protestant armies. The heart of England would have been with him. His victories would have been hailed with a unanimous enthusiasm unknown in the country since the rout of the Armada, and would have effaced the stain which one act, condemned b}^ the general voice of the nation, has left on his splendid fame. Un- happily for him, he had no opportunity of displaying Before the Restoration i6i his admirable military talents, except against the in- habitants of the British isles. While he lived his power stood firm, an object of mingled aversion, admiration, and dread to his sub- jects. Few indeed loved his government ; but those who hated it most hated it less than they feared it. Had it been a worse government, it might perhaps have been overthrown in spite of all its strength. Had it been a weaker government, it w^ould certainly have been overthrown in spite of all its merits. But it had moderation enough to abstain from those oppressions which drive men mad ; and it had a force and energy which none but men driven mad by oppression would venture to encounter. It has often been affirmed, but with little reason, that Oliver died at a time fortunate for his renown, Oliver sue- ^^^ that, if his life had been prolonged, it ceeded by would probably have closed amidst disgraces Richard. ^^^ disastcrs. It is certain that he was, to the last, honored by his soldiers, obeyed by the whole population of the British islands, and dreaded by all foreign powers, that he was laid among the ancient sovereigns of England with funeral pomp such as Lon- don had never before seen, and that he was succeeded by his son Richard as quietly as any king had ever been succeeded by any Prince of Wales. During five months, the administration of Richard Cromwell went on so tranquilly and regularly that all Europe believed him to be firmh^ established on the chair of state. In truth, his situation was in some re- spects much more advantageous than that of his father. The young man had made no enemy. His hands were unstained bv civil blood. The Cavaliers themselves vol, I^ II 1 62 History of England allowed him to be an honest, good-natured gentle- man . The Presbyterian party, powerful both in numbers and in wealth, had been at deadly feud with the late Protector, but was disposed to regard the present Protector with favor. That party had always been desirous to see the old civil polity of the realm restored with some clearer definitions and some stronger safe- guards for public liberty, but had many reasons for dreading the restoration of the old family. Richard was the very man for politicians of this description. His humanity, ingenuousness, and modesty, the medi- ocrity of his abilities, and the docility with which he submitted to the guidance of persons wiser than him- self, admirably qualified him to be the head of a limited monarchy. For a time it seemed highl}' probable that he would under the direction of able advisers, effect what his father had attempted in vain. A parliament was called, and the writs were directed after the old fashion. The small boroughs which had recently been disfranchised regained their lost privilege : Manches- ter, lyCeds, and Halifax ceased to return members ; and the county of York was again limited to two knights. It may seem strange to a generation which has been ex- cited almost to madness by the question of parliamen- tary reform that great shires and towns should have submitted with patience, and even with complacency, to this change : but though speculative men might, even in that age, discern the vices of the old repre- sentative system, and predict that those vices would, sooner or later, produce serious practical evil, the practical evil had not yet been felt. Oliver's repre- Before the Restoration i6 J sentative system, on the other hand, though con- structed on sound principles, was not popular. Both the events in which it originated, and the effects which it had produced, prejudiced men against it. It had sprung from militarj^ violence. It had been fruitful of nothing but disputes. The whole nation was sick of government b}^ the sword, and pined for government by the law. The restoration, therefore, even of anom- alies and abuses, which were in strict conformity with the law, and which had been destroyed by the sword, gave general satisfaction. Among the Commons there was a strong opposition, consisting partly of avowed Republicans, and partly of concealed Ro3'alists : but a large and steady- majority appeared to be favorable to the plan of reviving the old civil constitution under a new dynasty. Richard was solemnly recognized as first magistrate. The Com- mons not only consented to transact business with Olivier' s Lords, but passed a vote acknowledging the right of those nobles who had, in the late troubles, taken the side of public liberty, to sit in the Upper House of Parliament without an\' new creation. Thus far the statesmen by whose advice Richard acted had been successful. Almost all parts of the government were now constituted as they had been constituted at the commencement of the civil war. Had the Protector and the Parliament been suffered to proceed undisturbed, there can be little doubt that an order of things similar to that which was afterward established under the House of Hanover would have been established under the House of Cromwell. But there was in the state a power more than sufficient to deal with Protector and Parliament together. Over 164 History of England the soldiers Richard had no authority except that which he derived from the great name which he had in- herited. He had never led them to victor>\ He had never even borne arms. All his tastes and habits were pacific. Nor were his opinions and feelings on religious subjects approved by the military saints. That he was a good man he evinced b}' proofs more satisfactory than deep groans or long sermons, by humility and suavity when he was at the height of human greatness, and by cheerful resignation under cruel wrongs and misfor- tunes : but the cant then common in every guard-room gave him a disgust which he had not always the pru- dence to conceal. The officers who had the principal influence among the troops stationed near lyondon were not his friends. They were men distinguished by valor and conduct in the field, but destitute of the wisdom and civil courage which had been conspicuous in their deceased leader. Some of them were honest, but fanatical, Independents and Republicans. Of this class Fleetwood was the representative. Others were impatient to be what Oliver had been. His rapid elevation, his prosperity and glory, his inauguration in the Hall, and his gorgeous obsequies in the Abbey, had inflamed their imagination. They were as well- born as he, and as well educated : the}^ could not under- stand wh}" they were not as worthy to wear the purple robe and to wield the sword of state ; and they pursued the objects of their wild ambition, not, like him, with patience, vigilance, sagacity, and determination, but with the restlessness and irresolution characteristic of aspiring mediocrity. Among these feeble copies of a great original the most conspicuous was Lam- bert. Before the Restoration 165 On the very day of Richard's accession the ofl&cers began to conspire against their new master. The good understanding which existed between him 0*'!.°^ ^A ^nd his Pariiament hastened the crisis. Kicnard and revival of Alarm and resentment spread through the the Long camp. Both the religious and the professional Parliament. / o it feelings of the army were deeply wounded. It seemed that the Independents were to be subjected to the Presbyterians, and that the men of the sword were to be subjected to the men of the gown. A coalition was formed between the military malcontents and the re- publican minority of the House of Commons. It may well be doubted whether Richard could have triumphed over that coalition, even if he had inherited his father's clear judgment and iron courage. It is certain that simplicity and meekness like his were not the qualities which the conjuncture required. He fell ingloriously and without a struggle. He w^as used by the army as an instrument for the purpose of dissolving the Parlia- ment, and was then contemptuously thrown aside. The officers gratified their republican allies by declaring that the expulsion of the Rump had been illegal, and by inviting that assembly to resume its functions. The old Speaker and a quorum of the old members came to- gether, and were proclaimed, amidst the scarcely stifled derision and execration of the whole nation, the su- preme power in the commonwealth. It was at the same time expressly declared that there should be no first magistrate, and no House of Lords. But this state of things could not last. On the day on which the Long Parliament revived, revived also its old quarrel with the army. Again the Rump forgot that it owed its existence to the pleasure of the soldiers, 1 66 History of England and began to treat them as subjects. Again the doors of the House of Commons were closed by Second ex- ... , ^ , . . , pulsion of the muitary Violence ; and a provisional govern- Long Pariia- mciit, named by the officers, assumed the direction of affairs. Meanwhile the sense of great evils, and the strong apprehension of still greater evils close at hand, had at length produced an alliance between the Cavaliers and the Presbyterians. Some Presbyterians had, in- deed, been disposed to such an alliance even before the death of Charles the First : but it was not till after the fall of Richard Cromwell that the whole party became eager for the restoration of the ro^'al house. There was no longer any reasonable hope that the old consti- tution could be re-established under a new dynasty. One choice only was left, the Stuarts or the army. The banished family had committed great faults ; but it had dearly expiated those faults ; and had under- gone a long, and, it might be hoped, a salutary training in the school of adversity. It was probable that Charles the Second would take warning by the fate of Charles the First. But, be this as it might, the dangers which threatened the country were such that, in order to avert them, some opinions might well be compromised, and some risks might well be incurred. It seemed but too likely that England would fall under the most odi- ous and degrading of all kinds of government, under a government uniting all the evils of despotism to all the evils of anarchy. Anything was preferable to the yoke of a succession of incapable and inglorious tyrants, raised to power, like the Deys of Barbary, by military revolutions recurring at short intervals. Lambert seemed likely to be the first of these rulers ; but within Before the Restoration 107 a year Lambert might give place to Desborough, and Desborough to Harrison. As often as the truncheon was transferred from one feeble hand to another, the nation would be pillaged for the purpose of bestowing a fresh donative on the troops. If the Presbyterians obstinately stood aloof from the Ro3'alists, the state was lost ; and men might well doubt whether, by the combined exertions of Presbyterians and Royalists it could be saved. For the dread of that invincible army was on all the inhabitants of the island : and the Cava- liers, taught by a hundred disastrous fields how little numbers can effect against discipline, were even more completely cowed than the Roundheads. While the soldiers remained united, all the plots and risings of the malcontents w^ere ineffectual. But a few days after the second expulsion of the sco^tiYi^^ Rump, came tidings which gladdened the marches into hcarts of all who wcrc attached either to ngian . mouarch}^ or to libert3\ That mighty force which had, during man^^ years, acted as one man, and which, while so acting, had been found irresistible, was at length divided against itself. The army of Scotland had done good service to the commonwealth, and was in the highest state of efficiency. It had borne no part in the late rev^olutions, and had seen them with indig- nation resembling the indignation which the Roman legions posted on the Danube and the Euphrates felt when they learned that the empire had been put up to sale by the Praetorian Guards. It was intolerable that certain regiments should, merely because they hap- pened to be quartered near Westminster, take on them- selves to make and unmake several governments, in the course of half a year. If it were fit that the state .should 1 68 History of England be regulated by the soldiers, those soldiers who upheld the Knglish ascendency on the north of the Tweed were as well entitled to a voice as those who garrisoned the Tower of lyOndon. There appears to have been less fanaticism among the troops stationed in Scotland than in any other part of the army ; and their general, George Monk, was himself the very opposite of a zealot. He had, at the commencement of the civil war, borne arms for the King, had been made prisoner by the Roundheads, had then accepted a commission from the Parliament, and, with very slender preten- sions to saintship, had raised himself to high com- mands by his courage and professional skill. He had been a useful servant to both the Protectors, had quietly acquiesced when the officers at Westminster pulled down Richardand restored the Long Parliament, and would perhaps have acquiesced as quietly in the second expulsion of the Long Parliament, if the pro- visional government had abstained from giving him cause of offence and apprehension. For his nature was cautious and somewhat sluggish ; nor was he at all dis- posed to hazard sure and moderate advantages for the chance of obtaining even the most splendid success. He seems to have been impelled to attack the new rulers of the commonwealth less by the hope that, if he overthrew them, he should become great, than by the fear that, if he submitted to them, he should not even be secure. Whatever were his motives, he declared himself the champion of the oppressed civil power, re- fused to acknowledge the usurped authority of the pro- visional government, and, at the head of seven thousand veterans, marched into England. This step was the signal for a general explosion. Before the Restoration 169 The people everywhere refused to pay taxes. The apprentices of the City assembled by thousands and clamored for a free parliament. The fleet sailed up the Thames, and declared against the tyranny of the sol- diers. The soldiers, no longer under the control of one commanding mind, separated into factions. Kvery regiment, afraid lest it should be left alone a mark for the vengeance of the oppressed nation, hastened to make a separate peace. Lambert, who had hastened northward to encounter the army of Scotland, was abandoned by his troops, and became a prisoner. During thirteen years the civil power had, in every conflict, been compelled to yield to the military power. The military power now humbled itself before the civil power. The Rump, generally hated and despised, but still the only body in the countr}^ which had any show of legal authority returned again to the house from which it had been twice ignominiously expelled. In the meantime Monk was advancing toward Lon- don. Wherever he came, the gentry flocked round him, imploring him to use his power for the purpose of restoring peace and liberty to the distracted nation. The General, cold-blooded, taciturn, zealous for no polity and for no religion, maintained an impenetrable reserv^e. What were at this time his plans, and whether he had any plan, may well be doubted. His great ob- ject apparently, was to keep himself, as long as possi- ble, free to choose between several lines of action. Such, indeed, is commonly the policy of men who are, like him, distinguished rather by wariness than by far- sightedness. It was probably not till he had been some days in the capital that he had made up his mind. The cry of the whole people was for a free parliament ; I/O History of England and there could be no doubt that a parliament really free would instantly restore the exiled family. The Rump and the soldiers were still hostile to the House of Stuart. But the Rump was universally detested and despised. The power of the soldiers was indeed still formidable, but had been greatly diminished by discord. They had no head. They had recently been in many parts of the country, arrayed against each other. On the very day before Monk reached London, there was a fight in the Strand between the cavalry and the infantr}^ A united army had long kept down a divided nation ; but the nation was now united, and the army was divided. During a short time, the dissimulation or irresolution Monk declares ^^ Mouk kept all parties in a state of pain- for a free par- ful suspcnsc. At length he broke silence, hament. ^^^^ declared for a free parliament. As soon as his declaration was known, the whole nation was wild with delight. Wherever he appeared, thousands thronged round him, shouting and blessing his name. The bells of all England rang joyously : the gutters ran with ale ; and, night after night, the sky five miles round London was reddened by innumer- able bonfires. Those Presbyterian members of the House of Commons who had many years before been expelled by the army, returned to their seats, and were hailed with acclamations by great multitudes, which filled Westminster Hall and Palace Yard. The Inde- pendent leaders no longer dared to show their faces in the streets, and were scarcely safe within their own dwellings. Temporary provision was made for the government : writs were issued for a general election ; and then that memorable Parliament, which had, in Before the Restoration 171 the course of twenty eventful 3^ears, experienced every variety of fortune, which had triumphed over its sover- eign, which had been enslaved and degraded by its servants, which had been twice ejected and twice re- stored, solemnly decreed its own dissolution. The result of the elections was such as might have been expected from the temper of the nation. tion^f^iee"" The new House of Commons consisted, with few exceptions, of persons friendly to the royal family. The Presbyterians formed the majority. That there would be a restoration now seemed almost certain ; but whether there would be a peaceable res- toration was matter of painful doubt. The soldiers were in a gloomy and savage mood. They hated the title of King. They hated the name of Stuart. They hated Presb5'terianism much, and Prelacy more. They saw with bitter indignation that the close of their long domination was approaching, and that a life of inglori- ous toil and penury was before them. They attributed their ill-fortune to the weakness of some generals, and to the treason of others. One hour of their beloved Oliver might even now restore the glory which had de- parted. Betra}'ed, disunited, and left without any chief in whom they could confide, the}" were yet to be dreaded. It was no light thing to encounter the rage and despair of fifty thousand fighting men, whose backs no enemy had ever seen. Monk, and those with whom he acted, were well aware that the crisis was most perilous. They employed every art to soothe and to divide the discontented warriors. At the same time vigorous preparation was made for a conflict. The army of Scotland, now quartered in London, was kept in good humor by bribes, praises, and promises. The 172 History of England wealthy citizens grudged nothing to a redcoat, and were indeed so liberal of their best wdne, that warlike saints were sometimes seen in a condition not very honorable either to their religious or to their military character. Some refractory regiments Monk ventured to disband. In the meantime the greatest exertions were made by the provisional government, with the strenuous aid of the whole body of the gentry and magistracy, to organize the militia. In every county the trainbands were held ready to march ; and this force cannot be estimated at less than a hundred and twenty thousand men. In Hvde Park twenty thou- sand citizens, well armed and accoutred, passed in re- view, and showed a spirit which justified the hope that, in case of need, they would fight manfully for their shops and firesides. The fleet was heartily with the nation. It was a stirring time, a time of anxiety, 3'et of hope. The prevailing opinion was that England would be delivered, but not without a desperate and blood)^ struggle, and that the class which had so long ruled by the sword would perish by the sword. Happily the dangers of a conflict were averted. There was indeed one moment of extreme peril. Lambert escaped from his confinement, and called his comrades to arms. The flame of civil war was actually rekindled ; but by prompt and vigorous exertion it was trodden out before it had time to spread. The luckless imitator of Cromwell was again a prisoner. The failure of his enterprise damped the .spirit of the soldiers ; and they sullenly resigned themselves to their fate. The new Parliament, which, having been called with- out the royal writ, is more accurately described as a Con- vention, met at Westminster. The Lords repaired to The Restora- tion. Before the Restoration 173 the hall, from which they had, during more than eleven 3^ears, been excluded by force. Both Houses instantly invited the King to re- turn to his country. He was proclaimed with pomp never before known. A gallant fleet con- voyed him from Holland to the coast of Kent. When he landed, the cliffs of Dover were covered by thousands of gazers, among whom scarcely one could be found who was not weeping with delight. The journey to London was a continued triumph. The whole road from Rochester was bordered by booths and tents, and looked like an interminable fair. Everywhere flags were fl34ng, bells and music sounding, wine and ale flowing in rivers to the health of him whose return was the return of peace, of law, and of freedom. But in the midst of the general joy, one spot presented a dark and threatening aspect. On Blackheath the army was drawn up to welcome the sovereign. He smiled, bowed, and extended his hand graciously to the lips of the colo- nels and majors. But all his courtesy was vain. The countenances of the soldiers were sad and lowering ; and, had they given way to their feelings, the festive pageant of which they reluctantly made a part would have had a mournful and bloody end. But there was no concert among them. Discord and defection had left them no confidence in their chiefs or in each other. The whole array of the city of London was under arms. Numerous companies of militia had assembled from various parts of the realm, under the command of loyal noblemen and gentlemen, to welcome the King. That great day closed in peace ; and the restored wanderer reposed safe in the palace of his ancestors. CHAPTER II UNDER CHARLES THE SECOND Conduct of those who restored the House of Stuart un- justly censured. THE history of England, during the seventeenth century, is the history of the transformation of a limited monarchy, constituted after the fashion of the Middle Ages, into a limited monarchy suited to that more advanced state of society in which the public charges can no longer be borne by the estates of the crown, and in which the pub- lic defence can no longer be intrusted to a feudal militia. We have seen that the poli- ticians who were at the head of the I^ong Parliament made, in 1642, a great effort to accomplish this change by transferring, directl}^ and formally, to the estates of the realm the choice of ministers, the com- mand of the army, and the superintendence of the whole executive administration. This scheme was, perhaps, the best that could then be contrived ; but it was completely disconcerted by the course which the civil war took. The Houses triumphed, it is true, but not till after such a struggle as made it necessary for them to call into existence a power which they could not control, and which soon began to domineer over all orders and all parties. During a few years, the evils 174 Under Charles the Second 175 inseparable from military government were, in some degree, mitigated by the ^visdom and magnanimity of the great man who held the supreme command. But when the sword, which he had wielded with energy, indeed, but with energy always guided by good-sense and generally tempered by good-nature, had passed to captains who possessed neither his abilities nor his virtues, it seemed too probable that order and liberty would perish in one ignominious ruin. That ruin was happily averted. It has been too much the practice of writers zealous for freedom to rep- resent the Restoration as a disastrous event, and to condemn the folly or baseness of that convention which recalled the royal famih' without exacting new securi- ties against maladministration. Those who hold this language do not comprehend the real nature of the crisis which followed the deposition of Richard Crom- well. England was in imminent danger of falling under the tyranny of a succession of small men raised up and pulled down by military caprice. To deliver the country- from the domination of the soldiers was the first object of ever}- enlightened patriot ; but it was an object which, while the soldiers were united, the most sanguine could scarcely expect to attain. On a sudden a gleam of hope appeared. General was opposed to general, army to army. On the use which might be made of one auspicious moment depended the future destiny of the nation. Our ancestors used that mo- ment well. They forgot old injuries, waived petty scruples, adjourned to a more convenient season all dispute about the reforms which our institutions needed, and stood together, Cavaliers and Round- heads, Episcopalians and Presbyterians, in firm union, 176 History of England for the old laws of the laud against military despotism. The exact partition of power among King, I^ords, and Commons, might well be postponed till it had been de- cided whether England should be governed by King, Lords, and Commons, or by cuirassiers and pikemen. Had the statesmen of the Convention taken a different course, had they held long debates on the principles of government, had they drawn up a new constitution and sent it to Charles, had conferences been opened, had couriers been passing and repassing during some weeks between Westminster and the Netherlands, with projects and counter-projects, replies by Hyde and re- joinders by Prynne, the coalition on which the public safety depended would have been dissolved ; the Pres- byterians and Royalists would certainly have quar- relled ; the military factions might possibly have been reconciled ; and the misjudging friends of liberty might long have regretted, under a rule worse than that of the worst Stuart, the golden opportunity which had been suffered to escape. The old civil polity was, therefore, by the general consent of both the great parties re-established. It was again exactly what it had been when Abolition of . tenures by Charlcs the First, eighteen years before, knight withdrew from his capital. All those acts of service •• • • the Long Parliament which had received the royal assent were admitted to be still in full force. One fresh concession, a concession in which the Cavaliers were even more deeply interested than the Roundheads, was easily obtained from the restored King. The mili- tary tenure of land had been originally created as a means of national defence. But in the course of ages whatever was useful in the institution had disappeared, Under Charles the Second 177 and nothing was left but ceremonies and grievances. A landed proprietor who held an estate under the crown by knight service — and it was thus that most of the soil of England was held — had to pay a large fine on coming to his property. He could not alienate one acre without purchasing a license. When he died, if his domains descended to an infant, the sovereign was guardian, and was not only entitled to great part of the rents during the minority, but could require the ward, under heavy penalties, to marry an}- person of suitable rank. The chief bait which attracted a needy syco- phant to the court was the hope of obtaining, as the reward of servility and flattery, a royal letter to an heiress. These abuses had perished with the monarchy. That they should not revive with it was the wish of every landed gentleman in the kingdom. They were, therefore, solemnly abolished b}^ statute ; and no relic of the ancient tenures in chivalry was suffered to re- main, except those honorary services which are still, at a coronation, rendered to the person of the sovereign b}^ some lords of manors. The troops were now to be disbanded. Fifty thou- sand men, accustomed to the profession of arms, were at once thrown on the world : and experi- isbanding ^j^^q sccmcd to Warrant the belief that this of the army. change would produce much miser}' and crime, that the discharged veterans would be seen beg- ging in every street, or that they would be driven by hunger to pillage. But no such result followed. In a few months there remained not a trace indicating that the most formidable army in the world had just been absorbed into the mass of the community. The Roy- alists themselves confessed that, in every department \'OL 1 I^ 178 History of England of honest industr}", the discarded warriors prospered beyond other men, that none was charged with any theft or robber}^ that none was heard to ask an alms, and that if a baker, a mason, or a wagoner attracted notice by his diUgence and sobriety, he was in all prob- abilit}^ one of Oliver's old soldiers. The military tyranny had passed away ; but it had left deep and enduring traces in the public mind. The name of standing army was long held in abhorrence : and it is remarkable that this feeling was even stronger among the Cavaliers than among the Roundheads. It ought to be considered as a most fortunate circumstance that, when our country was, for the first and last time, ruled by the sword, the sword was in the hands, not of her legitimate princes, but of those rebels who slew the King and demolished the Church. Had a prince, with a title as good as that of Charles, commanded an army as good as that of Cromwell, there would have been little hope indeed for the liberties of England. Hap- pil}^ that instrument by which alone the monarchy could be made absolute became an object of peculiar horror and disgust to the monarchical party, and long continued to be inseparably associated in the imagina- tion of Ro3^alists and Prelatists with regicide and field- preaching. A century after the death of Cromwell, the Tories still continued to clamor against ever)' augmen- tation of the regular soldiery, and to sound the praise of a national militia. So late as the 3'ear 1786, a min- ister who enjo3'^ed no common measure of their confi- dence found it impossible to overcome their aversion to his scheme of fortifying the coast ; nor did they ever look with entire complacenc}^ on the standing army till the French Revolution gave a new direction to their apprehensions. Under Charles the Second 1 79 The coalition which had restored the King termi- nated with the danger from which it had sprung ; and two hostile parties again appeared ready for b^e\weln\he conflict. Both, indeed, were agreed as to Roundheads the propriety of inflicting punishment on and Cavaliers g^jj^^ Unhappy mCU who WCrC, at that mo- renewed. . ment, objects of almost universal hatred. Cromwell was no more ; and those who had fled before him were forced to content themseh'cs with the misera- ble satisfaction of digging up, hanging, quartering, and burning the remains of the greatest prince that has ever ruled England. Other objects of vengeance, few in- deed, 3'et too many, were found among the republican chiefs. Soon, however, the conquerors, glutted with the blood of the regicides, turned against each other. The Roundheads, while admitting the virtues of the late King, and while condemning the sentence passed upon him by an illegal tribunal, yet maintained that his administration had been, in many things, unconsti- tutional, and that the Houses had taken arms against him from good motives and on strong grounds. The monarchy, these politicians conceived, had no worse enemy than the flatterer who exalted the prerogative above the law, who condemned all opposition to regal encroachments, and who reviled, not only Cromwell and Harrison, but Pym and Hampden, as traitors. If the King wished for a quiet and prosperous reign, he must confide in those who, though they had drawn the sword in defence of the invaded privileges of Parlia- ment, had yet exposed themselves to the rage of the soldiers in order to save his father, and had taken the chief part in bringing back the royal family. The feehng of the Cavaliers was widely diflerent. During eighteen years they had, through all vicissi- i8o History of England tudes, been faithful to the crown. Having shared the distress of their prince, were they not to share his tri- umph ? Was no distinction to be made between them and the disloyal subject who had fought against his rightful sovereign, who had adhered to Richard Crom- well, and who had never concurred in the restoration of the Stuarts, till it appeared that nothing else could save the nation from the tyranny of the army ? Grant that such a man had, by his recent services, fairly earned his pardon. Yet were his services, rendered at the eleventh hour, to be put in comparison with the toils and sufferings of those who had borne the burden and heat of the day ? Was he to be ranked with men who had no need of the royal clemency, with men who had, in every part of their lives, merited the royal gratitude ? Above all, was he to be suffered to retain a fortune raised out of the substance of the ruined defenders of the throne ? Was it not enough that his head and his patrimonial estate, a hundred times for- feited to justice, were secure, and that he shared, with the rest of the nation, in the blessings of that mild gov- ernment of which he had long been the foe ? Was it necessary that he should be rewarded for his treason at the expense of men whose only crime was the fidelity with which they had observed their oath of allegiance ? And what interest had the King in gorging his old enemies with pre}^ torn from his old friends ? What confidence could be placed in men who had opposed their sovereign, made war on him, imprisoned him, and who, even now, instead of hanging down their heads in shame and contrition, vindicated all that they had done, and seemed to think that they had given an illus- trious proof of loyalty by just stopping short of regicide? Under Charles the Second i8i It was true that they had lately assisted to set up the throne ; but it was not less true that they had previ- ously pulled it down, and that they still avowed princi- ples which might impel them to pull it down again. Undoubtedly it might be fit that marks of royal appro- bation should be bestowed on some converts who had been eminently useful ; but policy, as well as justice and gratitude, enjoined the king to give the highest place in his regard to those who, from first to last, through good and evil, had stood by his house. On these grounds the Cavaliers very naturally demanded in- demnit}' for all that they had suff'ered, and preference in the distribution of the favors of the crown. Some violent members of the party went further, and clam- ored for large categories of proscription. The political feud was, as usual, exasperated by a religious feud. The King found the Church in a singu- lar state. A short time before the com- Rehgious mencement of the civil war, his father had dissension. given a reluctant assent to a bill, strongly supported by Falkland, which deprived the bishops of their seats in the House of Lords : but Episcopacy and the Liturgy had never been abolished by law. The Long Parliament, however, had passed ordinances which had made a complete revolution in Church government and in public worship. The new system was, in principle, scarcely less Erastian than that which it displaced. The Houses, guided chiefly by the counsels of the accomplished Selden, had determined to keep the spiritual power strictly subordinate to the temporal power. They had refused to declare that any form of ecclesiastical polity was of divine origin ; and they had provided that, from all the Church courts, an appeal i82 History of England should lie in the last resort to Parliament. With this highly important reservation, it had been resolved to set up in England a hierarchy closely resembling that which now exists in Scotland. The authority of councils, rising one above another in regular gradation, was substituted for the authority of bishops and arch- bishops. The lyiturgy gave place to the Presbyterian Directory. But scarcely had the new regulations been framed, when the Independents rose to supreme in- fluence in the state. The Independents had no dispo- sition to enforce the ordinances touching classical, provincial, and national synods. Those ordinances, therefore, were never carried into full execution. The Presbyterian system was fully established nowhere but in Middlesex and Lancashire. In the other fifty counties, almost every parish seems to have been un- connected with the neighboring parishes. In some districts, indeed, the ministers formed themselves into voluntary associations, for the purpose of mutual help and counsel ; but these associations had no coercive power. The patrons of livings, being now checked by neither Bishop nor Presbytery, would have been at liberty to confide the cure of souls to the most scandal- ous of mankind, but for the arbitrary intervention of Oliver. He established, by his own authority, a board of commissioners, called Triers. Most of these persons were Independent divines ; but a few Presbyterian ministers and a few laymen had seats. The certificate of the Triers stood in the place both of institution and of induction ; and without such a certificate no person could hold a benefice. This was undoubtedly one of the most despotic acts ever done by any English ruler. Yet, as it was generally felt that, without some such Under Charles the Second 183 precaution, the country would be overrun by ignorant and drunken reprobates, bearing the name and receiv- ing the pay of ministers, some highly respectable per- sons, who were not in general friendly to Cromwell, allowed that, on this occasion, he had been a public benefactor. The presentees whom the Triers had ap- proved took possession of the rectories, cultivated the glebe lands, collected the tithes, prayed without book or surplice, and administered the Eucharist to communi- cants seated at long tables. Thus the ecclesiastical polit}^ of the realm was in in- extricable confusion. Episcopacy was the fonn of gov- ernment prescribed by the old law whicli was still unrepealed. The fonn of government prescribed by parliamentary^ ordinance was Presbyterian. But neither the old law not the parliamentary ordinance was practi- cally in force. The Church actually established may be described as an irregular body made up of a few presb}i:eries and many Independent congregations, which were all held down and held together b>^ the authority of the government. Of those who had been active in bringing back the King, many were zealous for synods and for tlie Directory, and many were desirous to terminate by a compromise the religious dissensions which had long agitated England. Between the bigoted followers of Laud and the bigoted followers of Knox there could be neither peace nor truce ; but it did not seem impossible to effect an accommodation between the moderate Episcopalians of the school of Usher and the moderate Presbyterians of the school of Baxter. The moderate Episcopalians would admit that a bishop might lawfully be assisted by a council. The moderate Presbyterians 184 History of England would not deny that each provincial assembly might law- fully have a permanent president, and that this president might lawfully be called a bishop. There might be a revised Liturgy which should not exclude extemporane- ous prayer, a baptismal service in which the sign of the cross might be used or omitted at discretion, a com- munion service at which the faithful might sit if their consciences forbade them to kneel. But to no such plan could the great body of the Cavaliers listen with patience. The religious members of that party were conscientiously attached to the whole sj^stem of their Church. She had been dear to their murdered King. She had consoled them in defeat and penury. Her service, so often whispered in an inner chamber during the season of trial, had such a charm for them that they were unwilling to part with a single response. Other Royalists, who made little pretence to piety, yet lov^ed the Episcopal Church because she was the foe of their foes. They valued a prayer or a ceremony, not on account of the comfort which it conveyed to them- selves, but on account of the vexation which it gave to the Roundheads, and were so far from being disposed to purchase union by concession that they objected to concession chiefly because it tended to produce union. Such feelings, though blamable, were natural and not wholly inexcusable. The Puritans had undoubt- Unpopuiarity ^^ly, iu the day of their power, given cruel of the Puri- provocation. The}- ought to have learned, if from nothing else, yet from their own dis- contents, from their own struggles, from their own victory, from the fall of that proud hierarchy by which they had been so heavily oppressed, that in England, and in the seventeenth century, it was not in the power The Bear. Garden From an old print Under Charles the Second 185 of the civil magistrate to drill the minds of men into conformity with his own system of theology. They proved, however, as intolerant and as meddling as ever Laud had been. They interdicted, under heavy penal- ties, the use of the Book of Common Prayer, not only in churches, but even in private houses. It was a crime in a child to read by the bedside of a sick parent one of those beautiful collects which had soothed the griefs of forty generations of Christians. Severe punish- ments were denounced against such as should presume to blame the Calvinistic mode of worship. Clergymen of respectable character were not only ejected from their benefices b}' thousands, but were frequently ex- posed to the outrages of a fanatical rabble. Churches and sepulchres, fine works of art and curious remains of antiquity, were brutally defaced. The Parliament resolved that all pictures in the royal collection which contained representations of Jesus or the Virgin Mother should be burned. Sculpture fared as ill as painting. Nymphs and Graces, the work of Ionian chisels, were delivered over to Puritan stone-masons to be made decent. Against the lighter vices, the ruling faction waged war with a zeal little tempered by humanity or by common-sense. Sharp laws were passed against betting. It was enacted that adultery should be pun- ished with death. The illicit intercourse of the sexes, even where neither violence nor seduction was imputed, where no public scandal was given, where no conjugal right was violated, was made a misdemeanor. Public amusements, from the masks which were exhibited at the mansions of the great down to the wrestling-matches and grinning-matches on village greens, were vigorously attacked. One ordinance directed that all the May-poles 1 86 History of England in England should forthwith be hewn down. Another proscribed all theatrical diversions. The playhouses were to be dismantled, the spectators fined, the actors whipped at the cart's tail. Rope-dancing, puppet-shows, bowls, horse-racing, were regarded with no friendly eye. But bear-baiting, then a favorite diversion of high and low, was the abomination which most strongly stirred the wrath of the austere sectaries. It is to be remarked that their antipathy to this sport had nothing in common with the feeling which has, in our own time, induced the legislature to interfere for the purpose of protecting beasts against the wanton cruelty of men. The Puritan hated bear-baiting, not because it gave pain to the bear, but because it gave pleasure to the spectators. Indeed, he generally contrived to enjoy the double pleasure of tormenting both spectators and bear. ' ^ How little compassion for the bear had to do with the mat- ter is sufficiently proved by the following extract from a paper entitled " A perfect Diurnal of some Passages of Parliament, and from other Parts of the Kingdom, from Monday, July 24th, to to Monday, July 31st, 1643 " ; " Upon the Queen's coming from Holland, she brought with her, besides a company of savage- like ruffians, a company of savage bears, to what purpose you may judge by the sequel. Those bears were left about New- ark, and were brought into country towns constantly on the lyOrd's-day to be baited, such is the religion those here related would settle among us ; and, if any went about to hinder or but speak against their damnable profanations, they were presently noted as Roundheads and Puritans, and sure to be plundered for it. But some of Colonel Cromwell's forces coming by acci- dent into Uppingham town, in Rutland, on the Lord's-day, found these bears playing there in the usual manner, and, in the height of their sport, caused them to be seized upon, tied to a tree and shot." This was by no means a solitary instance. Colonel Pride, when Sheriff of Surrey, ordered the beasts in the Under Charles the Second 1S7 Perhaps no single circumstance more strongly illus- trates the temper of the precisians than their conduct re- specting Christmas-day. Christmas had been, from time immemorial, the season of joy and domestic affection, the season when families assembled, when children came home from school, when quarrels were made up, when carols were heard in ever_v street, when every house was decorated with evergreens, and every table was loaded with good cheer. At that season all hearts not utterly destitute of kindness were enlarged and softened. x\t that season the poor were admitted to partake largely of the overflowings of the wealth of the rich, whose bounty was peculiarly acceptable on account of the shortness of the days and of the severity of the weather. At that season the inter\'al between landlord and tenant, master and servant, was less marked than through the rest of the year. Where there is much enjoyment there will be some excess ; yet, on the whole, the spirit in which the holiday was kept was not unworthy of a Christian festival. The Long Parliament gave orders, in 1644, that the tw^enty- fifth of December should be strictly observed as a fast, and that all men should pass it in humbly bemoaning the great national sin which they and their fathers had so often connnitted on that day by romping under the mistletoe, eating boar's head, and drinking ale flavored with roasted apples. No bear-garden of Southwark to be killed. He is represented by a loyal satirist as defending the act thus : " The first thing that is upon my spirits is the killing of the bears, for which the people hate me, and call me all the names in the rainbow. But did not David kill a bear? Did not the Lord Deputy Ireton kill a bear? Did not another lord of ours kill five bears?" — Last Speech and Dying Words of Thomas Pride. i88 History of England public act of that time seems to have irritated the com- mon people more. On the next anniversary of the festival formidable riots broke out in many places. The constables were resisted, the magistrates insulted, the houses of noted zealots attacked, and the proscribed sennce of the day openly read in the churches. Such was the spirit of the extreme Puritans, both Presbyterian and Independent. Oliver, indeed, was little disposed to be either a persecutor or a meddler. But Oliver, the head of a party, and consequently, to a great extent, the slave of a party, could not govern altogether according to his own inclinations. Even under his administration man}^ magistrates, within their own jurisdiction, made themselves as odious as Sir Hudibras, interfered with all the pleasures of the neighborhood, dispersed festive meetings, and put fid- dlers in the stocks. Still more formidable was the zeal of the soldiers. In ever}" village where they appeared there was an end of dancing, bell-ringing, and hockey. In London they several times interrupted theatrical performances at which the Protector had the judgment and good-nature to connive. With the fear and hatred inspired b}^ such a tyranny contempt was !argely mingled. The peculiarities of the Puritan, his look, his dress, his dialect, his strange scruples, had been, ever since the time of Elizabeth, favorite subjects with mockers. But these peculiarities appeared far more grotesque in a faction which ruled a great empire than in obscure and persecuted congrega- tions. The cant, which had moved laughter when it was heard on the stage from Tribulation Wholesome and Zeal-of-the-Iyand Busy, was still more laughable when it proceeded from the lips of generals and coun- Under Charles the Second 189 cillors of state. It is also to be noticed that during the civil troubles several sects had sprung into existence, whose eccentricities surpassed anything that had before been seen in England. A mad tailor, named lyodowick Muggleton, wandered from pothouse to pothouse, tip- pling ale, and denouncing eternal torments against those who refused to believe, on his testimony, that the Supreme Being was only six feet high, and that the sun was just four miles from the earth.' George Fox had raised a tempest of derision by proclaiming that it was a violation of Christian sincerity to designate a single person by a plural pronoun, and that it was an idolatrous homage to Janus and Woden to talk about January and Wednesda^^ His doctrine, a few years later, was embraced by some eminent men, and rose greatly in the public estimation. But at the time of the Restoration the Quakers were popularly regarded as the most despicable of fanatics. By the Puritans they were treated with severity here, and were persecuted to the death in New England. Nevertheless the public, which seldom makes nice distinctions, often confounded the Puritan with the Quaker. Both were schismatics. Both hated episcopacy and the Eiturgy. Both had what seemed extravagant whimsies about dress, diver- sions, and postures. Widely as the two differed in opinion, they w^ere popularly classed together as cant- ing schismatics ; and whatever was ridiculous or odious in either increased the scorn and aversion which the multitude felt for both. Before the civil wars, even those who most disliked the opinions and manners of the Puritan were forced ' See Peon's New Witnesses Proved Old Heretics, and Mug- gleton's works, passim. igo History of England to admit that his moral conduct was generally, in es- sentials, blameless ; but this praise was now no longer bestowed, and, unfortunatel}^ was no longer deserved. The general fate of sects is to obtain a high reputation for sanctity while they are oppressed, and to lose it as soon as they become powerful : and the reason is obvi- ous. It is seldom that a man enrolls himself in a pro- scribed body from any but conscientious motives. Such a body, therefore, is compo.sed, with scarcely an ex- ception, of sincere persons. The most rigid discipline that can be enforced within a religious society is a very feeble instrument of purification, when compared with a little sharp persecution from without. We ma}^ be certain that ver3' few persons, not seriousl}^ impressed b}^ religious convictions, applied for baptism while Diocletian was vexing the Church, or joined them- selves to Protestant congregations at the risk of being burned by Bonner. But when a sect becomes power- ful, when its favor is the road to riches and dignities, worldly and ambitious men crowd into it, talk its lan- guage, conform strictly to its ritual, mimic its peculiari- ties, and frequently go be^^ond its honest members in all the outward indications of zeal. No discernment, no watchfulness, on the part of ecclesiastical rulers, can prevent the intrusion of such false brethren. The tares and the wheat must grow together. Soon the world be- gins to find out that the godly are not better than other men, and argues, with some justice, that, if not better, they must be much worse. In no long time all those signs which were formerly regarded as characteristic of a saint are regarded as characteristic of a knave. Thus it was with the English Non-conformists. They had been oppressed ; and oppression had kept Under Charles the Second 191 them a pure body. The}'' then became supreme in the state. No man could hope to rise to eminence and command but by their favor. Their favor was to be gained only b}^ exchanging with them the signs and passwords of spiritual fraternity. One of the first reso- lutions adopted by Barebone's Parliament, the most in- tensely Puritanical of all our political assemblies, was that no person should be admitted into the public ser- vice till the House should be satisfied of his real godli- ness. What were then considered as the signs of real godliness — the sad-colored dress, the sour look, the straight hair, the nasal whine, the speech interspersed with quaint texts, the Sunday, gloomy as a Pharisaical Sabbath — were easily imitated b}- men to whom all re- ligions were the same. The sincere Puritans soon found themselves lost in a multitude, not merel}^ of men of the world, but of the ver}- worst sort of men of the world. For the most notorious libertine who had fought under the royal standard might justly be thought virtuous when compared with some of those who, while the}" talked about sweet experiences and comfortable scriptures, lived in the constant practice of fraud, rapacity, and secret debauchery. The people, with a rashness which we may justly lament, but at which we cannot w^onder, formed their estimate of the whole body from these hypocrites. The theology, the manners, the dialect of the Puritan, were thus associ- ated in the public mind with the darkest and meanest vices. As soon as the Restoration had made it safe to avow enmity to the party which had so long been pre- dominant, a general outcry against Puritanism rose from ever>" corner of the kingdom, and was often swollen by the voices of those very dissemblers 192 History of England whose villainy had brought disgrace on the Puritan name. Thus the two great parties, which, after a long con- test, had for a moment concurred in restoring mon- archy, were, both in politics and in religion, again opposed to each other. The great body of the nation leaned to the Ro3^alists. The crimes of Strafford and Laud, the excesses of the Star-chamber and of the High Conniiission, the great services which the Long Parlia- ment had, during the first year of its existence, rendered to the state, had faded from the minds of men. The execution of Charles the First, the sullen tjTanny of the Rump, the violence of the army, were remembered with loathing ; and the multitude was inclined to hold all w^ho had withstood the late King responsible for his death and for the subsequent disasters. The House of Commons, having been elected while the Presbyterians were dominant, by no means repre- sented the general sense of the people. Most of the members, while execrating Cromwell and Bradshaw, reverenced the memory of Essex and Pym. One sturdy Cavalier, who ventured to declare that all who had drawn the sword against Charles the First were as much traitors as those who had cut off his head, was called to order, placed at the bar, and reprimanded b}^ the vSpeaker. The general wish of the House undoubtedly was to settle the ecclesiastical disputes in a manner satisfactory to the moderate Puritans. But to such a settlement both the court and the nation were averse. The restored King was at this time more loved by the people than any of his predecessors had ever been. The calamities of his house, the heroic death of his father, his own long-sufferings and romantic adventures, made Under Charles the Second 193 him an object of tender interest. His return had de- livered the country from an intolerable bondage. Re- called by the voice of both the contending CharreVn ° f^ctious, hc was in a position which enabled him to arbitrate between them ; and in some respects he was w^ell qualified for the task. He had re- ceived from nature excellent parts and a happ\' temper. His education had been such as might have been ex- pected to develop his understanding, and to form him to the practice of every public and private virtue. He had passed through all varieties of fortune, and had seen both sides of human nature. He had, while very young, been driven forth from a palace to a life of exile, penury, and danger. He had, at the age when the mind and body are in their highest perfection, and when the first efferv^escence of boyish passions .should have subsided, been recalled from his wanderings to wear a crown. He had been taught by bitter experi- ence how much baseness, perfidy, and ingratitude may lie hid under the obsequious demeanor of courtiers. He had found, on the other hand, in the huts of the poor- est, true nobility of soul. When wealth was offered to any who would betray him, when death was denounced against all who should shelter him, cottagers and serving-men had kept his secret truly, and had kissed his hand under his mean disguises with as much rever- ence as if he had been seated on his ancestral throne. From such a school it might have been expected that a young man who wanted neither abiHties nor amiable qualities would have come forth a great and good king. Charles came forth from that school with social habits, with polite and engaging manners, and with some talent for liv^el}^ conversation, addicted beyond measure to VOL.1 — 13 194 History of England sensual indulgence, fond of sauntering and of frivolous amusements, incapable of self-denial and of exertion, without faith in human virtue or in human attachment, without desire of renown, and without sensibility to reproach. According to him, every person was to be bought : but some people haggled more about their price than others ; and when this haggling was very obstinate and very skilful, it was called by some fine name. The chief trick by which clever men kept up the price of their abilities was called integrity. The chief trick by which handsome women kept up the price of their beauty was called modest}-. The love of God, the love of country, the love of family, the love of friends, were phrases of the same sort, delicate and convenient synonymes for the love of self. Thinking thus of mankind, Charles naturally cared ver}- little what they thought of him. Honor and shame were scarcely more to him than light and darkness to the blind. His contempt of flatter}' has been highly com- mended, but seems, when vifwed in connection with the rest of his character, to deserve no commendation. It is possible to be below flattery as well as above it. One w^ho trusts nobody will not trust S3^cophants. One who does not value real glory will not value its coun- terfeit. It is creditable to Charles's temper that, ill as he thought of his species, he never became a misanthrope. He saw little in men but what was hateful. Yet he did not hate them. Nay, he w^as so far humane that it was highly disagreeable to him to see their sufferings or to hear their complaints. This, how^ever, is a sort of humanity wdiich, tliough amiable and laudable in a private man whose power to help or hurt is bounded by Under Charles the Second 195 a narrow circle, has in princes often been rather a vice than a virtue. More than one well-disposed ruler has given up whole provinces to rapine and oppression, merely from a wish to see none but happy faces round his owai board and in his own walks. No man is fit to govern great societies who hesitates about disobliging the few who have access to him, for the sake of the many whom he will never see. The facilit}- of Charles was such as has perhaps never been found in any man of equal sense. He was a slave without being a dupe. Worthless men and women, to the ^'ery bottom of whose hearts he saw, and whom he knew to be desti- tute of afifection for him and undeserving of his con- fidence, could easil}' wheedle him out of titles, places, domains, state secrets, and pardons. He bestowed much ; yet he neither enjoyed the pleasure nor acquired the fame of beneficence. He never gave spontaneously ; but it was painful to him to refuse. The consequence was that his bounty generally went, not to those who deserv^ed it best, nor even to those whom he liked best, but to the most shameless and importunate suitor who could obtain an audience. The motives which governed the political conduct of Charles the Second differed widely from those by which his predecessor and his successor were actuated. He was not a man to be imposed upon by the patriarchal theory of government and the doctrine of divine right. He was utterly without ambition. He detested busi- ness, and would sooner have abdicated his crown than have undergone the trouble of really directing the ad- ministration. Such was his aversion to toil, and such his ignorance of affairs, that the very clerks who attended him when he sat in council could not refrain 196 History of England from sneering at his frivolous remarks and at his child- ish impatience. Neither gratitude nor revenge had any share in determining his course ; for never was there a mind on which both services and injuries left such faint and transitory impressions. He wished merely to be a king such as Lewis the Fifteenth of France after- ward was — a king who could draw without limit on the treasury for the gratification of his private tastes, who could hire with wealth and honor persons capable of assisting him to kill the time, and who, even when the state was brought by maladministration to the depths of humiliation and to the brink of ruin, could still ex- clude unwelcome truth from the purlieus of his own seraglio, and refuse to see and hear whatever might disturb his luxurious repose. For these ends, and for these ends alone, he wished to obtain arbitrary power, if it could be obtained without risk or trouble. In the religious disputes which divided his Protestant subjects his conscience was not at all interested ; for his opin- ions oscillated in contented suspense between infidelity and Popery. But, though his conscience was neutral in the quarrel between the Episcopalians and the Pres- byterians, his taste was by no means so. His favorite vices were precisely those to which the Puritans were least indulgent. He could not get through one day without the help of diversions which the Puritans re- garded as sinful. As a man eminently well-bred, and keenly sensible of the ridiculous, he was moved to con- temptuous mirth by the Puritan oddities. He had, indeed, some reason to dislike the rigid sect. He had, at the age when the passions are most impetuous and when levity is most pardonable, spent some months in Scotland, a king in name, but in fact a state-prisoner Under Charles the Second 197 in the hands of austere Presbyterians. Not content with requiring him to conform to their worship and to subscribe to their Covenant, they had watched all his motions, and lectured him on all his youthful follies. He had been compelled to give reluctant attendance at endless prayers and sermons, and might think himself fortunate when he was not insolently reminded from the pulpit of his own frailties, of his father's tyranny, and of his mother's idolatry. Indeed, he had been so miserable during this part of his life that the defeat which made him again a wanderer might be regarded as a deliverance rather than as a calamity. Under the influence of such feelings as these, Charles was desirous to depress the part}- which had resisted his father. The King's brother, James, Duke of York, took the same side. Though a libertine, James was diligent, methodical, and fond of authority and busi- ofthTu^uke ^^ss- ^is understanding was singularly of York and slow and uarrow, and his temper obstinate, Clarendon li^^sh, and Unforgiving. That such a prince should have looked with no good will on the free institutions of England, and on the party which was peculiarly zealous for those institutions, can ex- cite no surprise. As yet the duke professed himself a member of the Anglican Church : but he had alread\' shown inclinations which had seriously alarmed good Protestants. The person on whom devolved at this time the great- est part of the labor of governing was Edward Hyde, Chancellor of the realm, who was soon created Earl of Clarendon. The respect which we justly feel for Clarendon as a writer must not blind us to the faults which he committed as a statesman. Some of those 198 History of England faults, however, are explained and excused by the un- fortunate position in which he stood. He had, during the first year of the Long Parliament, been honorably distinguished among the senators who labored to re- dress the grievances of the nation. One of the most odious of those grievances, the Council of York, had been removed in consequence chiefly of his exertions. When the great schism took place, when the reforming party and the conservative party first appeared mar- shalled against each other, he, wdth many wise and good men, took the conservati\'e side. He thencefor- ward followed the fortunes of the court, enjoyed as large a share of the confidence of Charles the First as the reserved nature and tortuous policy of that prince allowed to any minister, and subsequently shared the exile and directed the political conduct of Charles the Second. At the Restoration Hyde became chief minis- ter. In a few months it was announced that he was closely related by affinity to the royal house. His daughter had become, by a secret marriage, Duchess of York. His grandchildren might perhaps wear the crown. He was raised by this illustrious connection over the heads of the old nobility of the land, and was for a time supposed to be all-powerful. In some re- spects he was well fitted for his great place. No man wrote abler state papers. No man spoke with more weight and dignity in Council and in Parliament. No man was better acquainted with general maxims of state-craft. No man observed the varieties of character with a more discriminating eye. It must be added that he had a strong sense of moral and religious obli- gation, a sincere reverence for the laws of his country, and a conscientious regard for the honor and interest Under Charles the Second 199 of the crown. But his temper was sour, arrogant, and impatient of opposition. Above all, he had been long an exile ; and this circumstance alone would have com- pletely disqualified him for the supreme direction of affairs. It is scarcely possible that a politican who has been compelled by civil troubles to go into banishment, and to pass many of the best years of his life abroad, can be fit, on the day on which he returns to his native land, to be at the head of the government. Clarendon was no exception to this rule. He had left England with a mind heated by a fierce conflict which had ended in the downfall of his party and of his own fortunes. From 1646 to 1660 he had lived beyond sea, looking on all that pa.ssed at home from a great distance, and through a false medium. His notions of public affairs were necessarily derived from the reports of plotters, many of whom were ruined and desperate men. Events naturally seemed to him auspicious, not in proportion as they increased the prosperity and glory of the nation, but in proportion as they tended to hasten the hour of his ow^n return. His wnsh, a wish which he has not disguised, was that, till his countrymen brought back the old line, they might never enjoy quiet or freedom. At length he returned ; and, without having a single week to look about him, to mix with society, to note the changes which fourteen eventful 3^ears had produced in the national character and feelings, he was at once set to rule the state. In such circumstances, a minister of the greatest tact and docility would probably have fallen into serious errors. But tact and docility made no part of the character of Clarendon. To him Eng- land w^as still the England of his 3'outh ; and he sternly frowned down every theory and every practice which 200 History of England had sprung up during his own exile. Though he was far from meditating any attack on the ancient and un- doubted power of the House of Commons, he saw with extreme uneasiness the growth of that power. The royal prerogative, for which he had long suffered, and by which he had at length been raised to wealth and dignity, was sacred in his eyes. The Roundheads he regarded both with political and with personal aversion. To the Anglican Church he had always been strongly attached, and had repeatedly, where her interests were concerned, separated himself with regret from his dear- est friends. His zeal for episcopacy and for the Book of Common Prayer was now more ardent than ever, and was mingled with a vindictive hatred of the Puri- tans, which did him little honor either as a statesman or as a Christian. While the House of Commons which had recalled the royal family was sitting, it was impossible to effect the re-establishment of the old ecclesiastical system. Not only were the intentions of the court strictly concealed, but assurances which quieted the minds of the moderate Presbyterians were given by the King in the most solemn manner. He had promised, before his restora- tion, that he would grant liberty of conscience to his subjects. He now repeated that promise, and added a promise to use his best endeavors for the purpose of effecting a compromise between the contending sects. He wished, he said, to see the spiritual jurisdiction divided between bishops and synods. The Liturgy should be revised by a body of learned divines, one half of whom should be Presbyterians. The questions respecting the surplice, the posture at the Eucharist, and the sign of the cross in baptism, should be settled Under Charles the Second 201 in a way which would set tender consciences at ease. When the King had thus laid asleep the xngilance of those whom he most feared, he dissolved the Parlia- ment. He had already given his assent to an act by which an amnesty was granted, with few exceptions, to all who, during the late troubles, had been guilty of political offences. He had also obtained from the Commons a grant for life of taxes, the annual produce of which was estimated at twelve hundred thousand pounds. The actual income, indeed, during some years, amounted to little more than a million ; but this sum, together with the hereditary revenue of the crown, was then sufi&cient to defray the expenses of the gov- ernment in time of peace. Nothing was allowed for a standing army. The nation was sick of the very name ; and the least mention of such a force would have in- censed and alarmed all parties. Early in 1661 took place a general election. The people were mad with loyal enthusiasm. The capital was excited by preparations for the most General eiec- gp2gQ(jj(j corouatiou that had ever been tion of 1661. ^ known. The result was that a body of representatives was returned, such as England had never yet seen. A large proportion of the successful candidates were men who had fought for the Crown and the Church, and whose minds had been exasper- ated by many injuries and insults suffered at the hands of the Roundheads. When the members met, the passions which animated each individually acquired new strength from sympathy. The House of Com- mons was, during some years, more zealous for royalty than the King, more zealous for episcopacy than the bishops. Charles and Clarendon were almost terrified 202 History of England at the completeness of their own success. They found themselves in a situation not unlike that in which Lewis the Eighteenth and the Duke of Richelieu were placed while the chamber of 1815 was sitting. Even if the King had been desirous to fulfil the promises which he had made to the Presbyterians, it would have been out of his power to do so. It was indeed only by the strong exertion of his influence that he could prevent the victorious Cavaliers from rescinding the act of in- demnity, and retaliating without mercy all that they had suffered. The Commons began by resolving that every member should, on pain of expulsion, take the sacrament ac- cording to the form prescribed by the old Violence of i rA 'i i t i the Cavaliers Liturgy, and that the Covenant should be in the new bumcd by the hangman in Palace Yard, ar lamen . ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ passcd, wliicli uot onlv acknowl- edged the power of the sword to be solely in the King, but declared that in no extremit}- whatever could the two Hou.ses be justified in withstanding him by force. Another act was passed which required every officer of a corporation to receive the Eucharist according to the rites of the Church of England, and to swear that he held resistance to the King's authority to be in all cases unlawful. A few hot-headed men wished to bring in a bill which should at once annul all the statutes passed by the Long Parliament, and should restore the Star- chamber and the High Commission ; but the reaction, violent as it was, did not proceed quite to this length. It still continued to be the law that a parliament should be held every three 5^ears : but the stringent clauses which directed the returning officers to proceed to election at the proper time, even without the royal Under Charles the Second 203 writ, were repealed. The bishops were restored to their seats in the Upper House. The old ecclesiastical polity and the old Liturg}' were revived without any modification which had any tendency to conciliate even the most reasonable Presbyterians. Episcopal ordina- tion was now, for the first time, made an indispensable qualification for Church preferment. About two thou- sand ministers of religion, whose conscience did not suffer them to conform, were driven from their benefices in one day. The dominant party exultingly reminded the sufferers that the Long Parliament, when at the height of power, had turned out a still greater number of Royalist divines. The reproach was but too well founded : but the Long Parliament had at least allowed to the divines whom it ejected a provision sufficient to keep them from starving ; and this example the Cava- liers, intoxicated with animosity, had not the justice and humanity to follow. Then came penal statutes against Non-conform- ists, statutes for which precedents might too easily be found in the Puritan legislation, but to Persecution '^ ^ ' of the which the King could not give his assent Puritans. without a brcach of promises publicly made, in the most important crisis of his life, to those on whom his fate depended. The Presbyterians, in ex- treme distress and terror, fled to the foot of the throne, and pleaded their recent services and the royal faith solemnly and repeatedly plighted. The King wavered. He could not deny his own hand and seal. He could not but be conscious that he owed much to the peti- tioners. He was little in the habit of resisting impor- tunate solicitation. His temper was not that of a persecutor. He disliked the Puritans indeed ; but in 204 History of England him dislike was a languid feeling, very little resem- bling the energetic hatred which had burned in the heart of Laud. He was, moreover, partial to the Roman Catholic religion ; and he knew that it w^ould be impossible to grant liberty of worship to the pro- fessors of that religion without extending the same in- dulgence to Protestant dissenters. He therefore made a feeble attempt to restrain the intolerant zeal of the House of Commons ; but that House was under the in- fluence of far deeper convictions and far stronger pas- sions than his own. After a faint struggle he yielded, and passed, with the show of alacrity, a series of odious acts against the separatists. It was made a crime to attend a dissenting place of worship. A single justice of the peace might convict without a jury, and might, for the third offence, pass sentence of tranportations beyond sea for seven years. With refined cruelty it was provided that the offender should not be trans- ported to New England, where he was likely to find sympathizing friends. If he returned to his own country"" before the expiration of his term of exile, he was liable to capital punishment. A new and most unreasonable test was imposed on divines who had been deprived of their benefices for non-conformity ; and all who refused to take that test were prohibited from coming within five miles of any town which was governed by a corporation, of an}- town which was represented in Parliament, or of any town where they had themselves resided as ministers. The magistrates, by whom these rigorous statutes were to be enforced, were in general men inflamed by party spirit and by the remembrance of wrongs suffered in the time of the Commonwealth. The j ails were therefore soon crowded Under Charles the Second 205 with dissenters ; and among the sufferers were some of whose genius and virtue SLuy Christian society might well be proud. The Church of England was not ungrateful for the protection which she received from the government. From the first da}^ of her existence, she had Zeal of the ' Church for been attached to monarchy. But, during hereditary the quarter of a century which followed the Restoration, her zeal for royal authority and hereditary right passed all bounds. She had suffered with the House of Stuart. She had been restored with that House. She w^as connected with it by com- mon interests, friendships, and enmities. It seemed impossible that a day could ever come when the ties which bound her to the children of her august martyr would be smidered, and when the loyalty in which she gloried would cease to be a pleasing and profitable duty. She accordingly magnified in fulsome phrase that pre- rogative which was constantly employed to defend and to aggrandize her, and reprobated, much at her ease, the depravity of those whom oppression, from which she w^as exempt, had goaded to rebellion. Her favor- ite theme was the doctrine of non-resistance. That doctrine she taught without any qualification, and followed out to all its extreme consequences. Her disciples were never wearv^ of repeating that in no con- ceivable case, not even if England w^ere cursed with a king resembling Busiris or Phalaris, with a king who, in defiance of law, and wdthout the pretence of justice, should daily doom hundreds of innocent vic- tims to torture and death, would all the estates of the realm be justified in withstanding his tyranny by phy- sical force. Happily the principles of human nature 2o6 History of England afford abundant security that such theories will never be more than theories. The day of trial came ; and the very men who had most loudly and most sincerely professed this extravagant loyalty were, in every county of England, arrayed in arms against the throne. Property all over the kingdom was now again chang- ing hands. The national sales, not having been con- firmed by act of Parliament, were regarded by the tribunals as nullities. The bishops, the deans, the chapters, the Royalist nobility and gentry, re-entered on their confiscated estates and ejected even purchasers who had given fair prices. The losses which the Cava- liers had sustained during the ascendency of their opponents were thus in part repaired ; but in part only. All actions for mesne profits were effectually barred by the general amnesty ; and the numerous Royalists, who, in order to discharge fines imposed by the IvOng Parliament, or in order to purchase the favor of powerful Roundheads, had sold lands for much less than the real value, were not relieved from the legal consequences of their own acts. While these changes were in progress, a change still more important took place in the morals and manners of the community. Those passions Change in i • i the morals ^^^d tastes whicli, undcr the rule of the of the com- Puritans, had been sternly repressed, and, mum y. .^ gratified at all, had been gratified by stealth, broke forth with ungovernable violence as soon as the check was withdrawn. Men flew to frivo- lous amusements and to criminal pleasures with the greediness which long and enforced abstinence naturally produces. lyittle restraint was imposed by public opin- ion. For the nation, nauseated with cant, suspicious Under Charles the Second 207 of all pretensions to sanctity, and still smarting from the recent tyranny of rulers austere in life and power- ful in prayer, looked for a time with complacency on the softer and gayer \'ices. Still less restraint was im- posed by the government. Indeed there was no excess which was not encouraged by the ostentatious profligac}' of the King and of his favorite courtiers. A few coun- sellors of Charles the First, who were now no longer young, retained the decorous gravity which had been thirty years before in fashion at Whitehall, Such were Clarendon himself, and his friends, Thomas Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, Lord Treasurer, and James Butler, Duke of Ormond, who, having through many vicissitudes struggled gallantl\' for the royal cause in Ireland, now governed that kingdom as Lord-lieutenant. But neither the memory of the ser- vices of these men, nor their great power in the state, could protect them from the sarcasms which modish vice loves to dart at obsolete virtue. The praise of politeness and vivacity could now scarcely be obtained except by some violation of decorum. Talents great and various assisted to spread the contagion. Ethical philosoph}^ had recently taken a form well suited to please a generation equally devoted to monarch}- and to vice. Thomas Hobbes had, in language more pre- cise and luminous than has ever been employed by any other metaphysical w^riter, maintained that the will of the prince was the standard of right and wrong, and that every subject ought to be ready to profess Poper}^ Mohammedanism, or Paganism, at the ro^^al command. Thousands who were incompetent to appreciate what was really valuable in his speculations, eagerly wel- comed a theory which, while it exalted the kingly 2o8 History of England office, relaxed the obligations of morality, and de- graded religion into a mere affair of state. Hobbism soon became an almost essential part of the character of the fine gentleman. All the lighter kinds of litera- ture were deeply tainted by the prevailing licentious- ness. Poetry stooped to be the pander of every low desire. Ridicule, instead of putting guilt and error to the blush, turned her formidable shafts against inno- cence and truth. The restored Church contended in- deed against the prevailing immorality, but contended feebly and with half a heart. It was necessar}^ to the decorum of her character that she should admonish her erring children ; but her admonitions were given in a somewhat perfunctory manner. Her attention was elsewhere engaged. Her whole soul was in the work of crushing the Puritans, and of teaching her disciples to give unto Caesar the things which were Caesar's. She had been pillaged and oppressed by the party which preached an austere morality. She had been restored to opulence and honor by libertines. Little as the men of mirth and fashion were disposed to shape their lives according to her precepts, they were yet ready to fight knee-deep in blood for her cathedrals and palaces, for every line of her rubric and every thread of her vestments. If the debauched Cavalier haunted brothels and gambling-houses, he at least avoided conventicles. If he never spoke without uttering ribaldry and blasphemy, he made some amends by his eagerness to send Baxter and Howe to jail for preaching and praying. Thus the clergy, for a time, made war on schism with so much vigor that they had little leisure to make war on vice. The ribaldry of Etherege and Wycherley was, in the presence and Under Charles the Second 209 under the special sanction of the head of the Church, publicly recited by female lips in female ears, while the author of the Pilgrim's Progress languished in a dungeon for the crime of proclaiming the Gospel to the poor. It is an unquestionable and a most instruc- tive fact that the years during which the political power of the Anglican hierarchy was in the zenith were pre- cisely the years during which national virtue was at the lowest point. Scarcely any rank or profession escaped the infection of the prevailing immorality ; but those persons who made politics their business were perhaps Profligacy of . -i , . , r i politicians. ^^^ ^^^^ corrupt part of the corrupt society. For they were exposed, not only to the same noxious influences which affected the nation generally, but also to a taint of a peculiar and of a most malignant kind. Their character had been formed amidst fre- quent and violent revolutions and counter-revolutions. In the course of a few years they had seen the ecclesi- astical and civil polity of their country repeatedly changed. They had seen an Episcopal Church perse- cuting Puritans, a Puritan Church persecuting Episco- palians, and an Episcopal Church persecuting Puritans again. They had seen hereditary monarchy abolished and restored. They had seen the Long Parliament thrice supreme in the state, and thrice dissolved amidst the curses and laughter of millions. They had seen a new dynasty rapidl}^ rising to the height of power and glory, and then on a sudden hurled down from the chair of state without a struggle. They had seen a new representative system devised, tried, and aban- doned. They had seen a new House of Lords created and scattered. They had seen great masses of property VOL. I — 14 2IO History of England violently transferred from Cavaliers to Roundheads, and from Roundheads back to Cavaliers. During these events no man could be a stirring and thriving politician who was not prepared to change with every change of fortune. It was only in retirement that any person could long keep the character either of a steady Royalist or of a steady Republican. One who, in such an age, is determined to attain civil greatness must re- nounce all thought of consistency. Instead of affecting immutability^ in the midst of endless mutation, he must be always on the watch for the indications of a coming reaction. He must seize the exact moment for desert- ing a falling cause. Having gone all lengths with a faction while it was uppermost, he must suddenl}- ex- tricate himself from it when its difficulties begin, must assail it, must persecute it, must enter on a new career of power and prosperity in company with new associ- ates. His situation naturally develops in him to the highest degree a peculiar class of abilities and a peculiar class of vices. He becomes quick of observation and fertile of resource. He catches without effort the tone of any sect or party with which he chances to mingle. He discerns the signs of the times with a sagacity which to the multitude appears miraculous, with a sagacity resembling that with which a veteran police- officer pursues the faintest indications of crime, or with which a IMohawk warrior follows a track through the woods. But we shall seldom find, in a statesman so trained, integrity, constancy, an^^ of the virtues of the noble family of Truth. He has no faith in an}'- doc- trine, no zeal for an}- cause. He has seen so many old institutions swept away that he has no reverence for prescription. He has seen so many new institutions, Under Charles the Second 211 from which much has been expected, produce mere dis- appointment, that he has no hope of improvement. He sneers alike at those who are anxious to preserve and at those who are eager to reform. There is nothing in the state which he could not, without a scruple or a blush, join in defending or in destro3'ing. Fidelity to opinions and to friends seems to him mere dulness and wrong-headedness. Politics he regards, not as a science of which the object is the happiness of mankind, but as an exciting game of mixed chance and skill, at which a dexterous and lucky player ma>' win an estate, a coro- net, perhaps a crown, and at which one rash move may lead to the loss of fortune and of life. Ambition, which, in good times and in good minds, is half a virtue, now, disjoined from every elevated and philanthropic senti- ment, becomes a selfish cupidity scarceh- less ignoble than avarice. Among those politicians who, from the Restoration to the accession of the House of Hanover, were at the head of the great parties in the state, very few can be named whose reputation is not stained by what, in our age, would be called gross perfidy and corruption. It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that the most unprincipled public men who have taken part in affairs within our memory would, if tried by the standard which was in fashion during the latter part of the seventeenth century, deserve to be regarded as scrupulous and disinterested. While these poUtical, religious, and moral changes were taking place in England, the royal authority had been without difiiculty re-established in state of every other part of the British islands. In Scotland. j r Scotland the restoration of the Stuarts had been hailed with delight ; for it was regarded as the 212 History of England restoration of national independence. And true it was that the yoke which Cromwell had imposed was, in appearance, taken away, that the Scottish estates again met in their old hall at Edinburgh, and that the Sena- tors of the College of Justice again administered the Scottish law according to the old forms. Yet was the independence of the little kingdom necessarily rather nominal than real ; for, as long as the King had Eng- land on his side, he had nothing to apprehend from disaffection in his other dominions. He was now in such a situation that he could renew the attempt which had proved destructive to his father without any danger of his father's fate. Charles the First had tried to force his own religion b}- his regal power on the Scots at a moment when both his religion and his regal power were unpopular in England ; and he had not onl}^ failed, but had raised troubles which had ultimatel}' cost him his crown and his head. Times had now changed : England was zealous for monarchy and prelacy ; and therefore the scheme which had formerly been in the highest degree imprudent might be resumed with little risk to the throne. The government resolved to set up a prelatical church in Scotland. The design was dis- approved b}' every Scotchman whose judgment was entitled to respect. Some Scottish statesmen who were zealous for the King's prerogative had been bred Pres- byterians. Though little troubled with scruples, they retained a preference for the religion of their child- hood ; and they well knew how strong a hold that re- ligion had on the hearts of their countrymen. The}'' remonstrated strongly: but, when they found that they remonstrated in vain, they had not virtue enough to persist in an opposition which would have given offence Under Charles the Second 213 to their master ; and several of them stooped to the wickedness and baseness of persecuting what in their consciences they believed to be the purest form of Chris- tianity. The Scottish Parliament was so constituted that it had scarcely ever offered any serious opposition even to kings much weaker than Charles then was. Episcopacy, therefore, was established by law. As to the form of worship, a large discretion was left to the clergy. In some churches the English Eiturgy was used. In others, the ministers selected from that Liturgy such prayers and thanksgivings as were likel}- to be least oflfensive to the people. But in general the doxology was sung at the close of public worship ; and the Apostles' Creed w^as recited when baptism was administered. By the great body of the Scottish nation the new Church was detested both as superstitious and as foreign — as tainted with the corruptions of Rome, and as a mark of the predominance of England. There was, however, no general insurrection. The countr}'- was not what it had been twenty-two 3^ears before. Disastrous war and alien domination had tamed the spirit of the people. The aristocrac}^ which was held in great honor by the middle class and by the populace, had put itself at the head of the movement against Charles the First, but proved obsequious to Charles the Second. From the English Puritans no aid was now to be expected. They were a feeble party, proscribed both by law and by public opinion. The bulk of the Scottish nation, therefore, sullenly submitted, and with many misgivings of conscience, attended the min- istrations of the Episcopal clergy, or of Presbyterian divines who had consented to accept from the govern- ment a half toleration, known by the name of the Indul- 2 14 History of England gence. But there were, particularly in the western lowlands, man}' fierce and resolute men, who held that the obligation to observe the Covenant was paramount to the obligation to obey the magistrate. These people, in defiance of the law, persisted in meeting to worship God after their own fashion. The Indulgence they re- garded, not as a partial reparation of the wrongs in- flicted by the State on the Church, but as a new wrong, the more odious because it was disguised under the ap- pearance of a benefit. Persecution, they said, could only kill the body ; but the black Indulgence was deadly to the soul. Driven from the towns, they as- sembled on heaths and mountains. Attacked by the civil power, the}-, without scruple, repelled force by force. At every conventicle they mustered in arms. They repeatedly broke out into open rebellion. They were easily defeated, and mercilessly punished : but neither defeat nor punishment could subdue their spirit. Hunted down like wild beasts, tortured till their bones were beaten flat, imprisoned by hundreds, hanged by scores, exposed at one time to the license of soldiers of England, abandoned at another time to the mercy of troops of marauders from the Highlands, they still stood at bay in a mood so savage that the boldest and mightiest oppressor could not but dread the audacity of their despair. Such was, during the reign of Charles the Second, the state of Scotland. Ireland was not less distracted. In that island existed feuds, compared with fr^il^nd which the hottest animosities of English politicians were lukewarm. The enmity between the Irish Cavaliers and the Irish Roundheads was almost forgotten in the fiercer enmity which raged Under Charles the Second 215 between the English and the Celtic races. The inter- val between the EpiscopaHan and the Presbyterian seemed to vanish, when compared with the interval which separated both from the Papist. During the late civil troubles the greater part of the Irish soil had been transferred from the vanquished nation to the victors. To the favor of the crown few either of the old or of the new occupants had an>' pretensions. The despoilers and the despoiled had, for the most part, been rebels alike. The government was soon perplexed and wearied by the conflicting claims and mutual accusa- tions of the two incensed factions. Those colonists among whom Cromwell had portioned out the con- quered territor}', and whose descendants are still called Cromwellians, asserted that the aboriginal inhabitants were dead!}- enemies of the English nation under every dynast}^ and of the Protestant religion in every form. They described and exaggerated the atrocities which had disgraced the insurrection of Ulster : the}' urged the King to follow up with resolution the policy of the Protector ; and they were not ashamed to hint that there would never be peace in Ireland till the old Irish race should be extirpated. The Roman Catholics ex- tenuated their offence as the}^ best might, and expati- ated in piteous language on the severity of their pun- ishment, which, in truth, had not been lenient. They implored Charles not to confound the innocent with the guilty, and reminded him that many of the guilty had atoned for their fault by returning to their allegiance, and by defending his rights against the murderers of his father. The court, sick of the importunities of two parties, neither of which it had any reason to love, at length relieved itself from trouble by dictating 2i6 History of England a compromise. That system, cruel, but most complete and energetic, by which Oliver had proposed to make the island thoroughly English, was abandoned. The Cromwellians were induced to relinquish a third part of their acquisitions. The land thus surrendered was capriciously divided among claimants whom the gov- ernment chose to favor. But great numbers w^ho pro- tested that they were innocent of all disloyalty, and some persons who boasted that their loyalty had been signally displayed, obtained neither restitution nor compensation, and filled France and Spain with out- cries against the injustice and ingratitude of the House of Stuart. Meantime the government had, even in England, ceased to be popular. The Royalists had begun to quarrel with the court and with each other ; menf bl^'^" aud the party which had been vanquished, comes trampled down, and, as it seemed, annihil- unpopuiar ^^^^ ^^^^ which had still retained a strong in England. ' o principle of life, again raised its head, and renewed the interminable war. Had the administration been faultless, the enthusiasm with which the return of the King and the termination of the military tyranny had been hailed could not have been permanent. For it is the law of our nature that such fits of excitement shall always be followed by remissions. The manner in which the court abused its victory made the remission speedy and complete. Every moderate man was shocked by the insolence, cruelty, and perfidy with which the Non-conformists were treated. The penal laws had efi'ectually purged the oppressed party of those insincere members whose vices had disgraced it, and had made it again an honest and Under Charles the Second 217 pious body of men. The Puritan, a conqueror, a ruler, a persecutor, a sequestrator, had been detested. The Puritan, betrayed and evil entreated, deserted by all the time-servers who, in his prosperity, had claimed brotherhood with him, hunted from his home, forbid- den under severe penalties to pray and receive the sacrament according to his conscience, yet still firm in his resolution to obey God rather than man, was, in spite of some unpleasing recollections, an object of pity and respect to well-constituted minds. These feelings became stronger when it was noised abroad that the court was not disposed to treat Papists with the same rigor which had been shown to Presbyterians. A vague suspicion that the King and the duke were not sincere Protestants sprang up and gathered strength. Many persons, too, who had been disgusted by the austerity and hypocrisy of the Saints of the Common- wealth began to be still more disgusted by the open profligacy of the court and of the Cavaliers, and were disposed to doubt whether the sullen preciseness of Praise God Barebone might not be preferable to the outrageous profaneness and licentiousness of the Buck- inghams and Sedleys. Even immoral men, who were not utterly destitute of sense and public spirit, com- plained that the government treated the most serious matters as trifles, and made trifles its serious business. A king might be pardoned for amusing his leisure with wine, wit, and beauty. But it was intolerable that he should sink into a mere lounger and voluptuary, that the gravest affairs of state should be neglected, and that the public service should be starved and the finances deranged in order that harlots and parasites might grow rich. 2i8 History of England A large body of Royalists joined in these complaints, and added many sharp reflections on the King's in- gratitude. His whole revenue, indeed, would not have sufficed to reward them all in proportion to their own consciousness of desert. For to every distressed gentleman who had fought under Rupert or Derby his own services seemed eminently meritorious, and his own sufferings eminently severe. Every one had flat- tered himself that, whatever became of the rest, he should be largely recompensed for all that he had lost during the civil troubles, and that the restoration of the monarchy would be followed by the restoration of his own dilapidated fortunes. None of these expectants could restrain his indiernation when he found that he was as poor under the King as he had been under the Rump or the Protector. The negligence and extrava- gance of the court excited the bitter indignation of these loyal veterans. They justly said that one half of what his majesty squandered on concubines and buffoons would gladden the hearts of hundreds of old Cavaliers who, after cutting down their oaks and melt- ing their plate to help his father, now wandered about in threadbare suits, and did not know where to turn for a meal. At the same time a sudden fall of rents took place. The income of every landed proprietor was diminished by five shillings in the pound. The cry of agricultural distress rose from every shire in the kingdom ; and for that distress the government was, as usual, held ac- countable. The gentry, compelled to retrench their expenses for a period, saw with indignation the increas- ing splendor and profusion of Whitehall, and were im- movably fixed in the belief that the money which ought Under Charles the Second 219 to have supported their households had, by some inex- phcable process, gone to the favorites of the King. The minds of men were now in such a temper that ev^ery public act excited discontent. Charles had taken to wife Catharine, Princess of Portugal. The marriage was generally disliked ; and the murmurs became loud when it appeared that the King was not likely to have any legitimate posterity. Dunkirk, won by Oliver from Spain, was sold to Lewis the Fourteenth, King of France. This bargain excited general indignation. Englishmen were already beginning to obser\'e with uneasiness the progress of the French power, and to regard the House of Bourbon with the same feeling with which their grandfathers had regarded the House of Austria. Was it wise, men asked, at such a time to make any addition to the strength of a monarchy already too formidable ? Dunkirk was, moreover, prized by the people, not merely as a place of arms, and as a key to the Low Countries, but also as a trophy of English valor. It was to the subjects of Charles what Calais had been to an earlier generation, and what the rock of Gibraltar, so manfully defended, through disastrous and perilous years, against the fleets and armies of a mighty coalition, is to ourselves. The plea of economy' might have had some weight if it had been urged by an economical government. But it was notorious that the charges of Dunkirk fell far short of the sums which were wasted at court in vice and folly. It seemed insupportable that a sovereign, pro- fuse beyond example in all that regarded his own pleasures, should be niggardly in all that regarded the safety and honor of the state. The public discontent was heightened, when it was 220 History of England found that, while Dunkirk was abandoned on the plea of economy, the fortress of Tangier, which was part of the dower of Queen Catharine, was repaired and kept up at an enormous charge. That place was associated with no recollections gratifying to the national pride ; it could in no way promote the national interests ; it involved us in inglorious, unprofitable, and intermin- able wars with tribes of half-savage Mussulmans ; and it was situated in a climate singularly unfavorable to the health and vigor of the English race. But the murmurs excited b}^ these errors were faint when compared with the clamors which soon broke forth. The government engaged in war Y^' "^ri; with the United Provinces. The House of the Dutch. Commons readily voted sums unexampled in our histors", sums exceeding those which had sup- ported the fleets and armies of Cromwell at the time when his power was the terror of the world. But such was the extravagance, dishonesty, and incapacity of those who had succeeded to his authority, that this liberality pro\'ed worse than useless. The sycophants of the court, ill qualified to contend against the great men who then directed the arms of Holland, against such a statesman as De Witt and such a commander as De Ruyter, made fortunes rapidly, while the sailors mutinied from very hunger, while the dock-yards were unguarded, while the ships were leaky and without rigging. It was at length determined to abandon all schemes of offensive war ; and it soon appeared that even a defensive war was a task too hard for that ad- ministration. The Dutch fleet sailed up the Thames, and burned the ships of war which lay at Chatham. It was said that, on the ver}- day of that great humilia- The Dtitch Fleet 07t the Thames Redrawn from an old woodcut I Under Charles the Second 221 tion, the King feasted with the ladies of his seragHo, and amused himself with hunting a moth about the supper-room. Then, at length, tardy justice was done to the memory of Oliver. Everywhere men magnified his valor, genius, and patriotism. Everywhere it was remembered how, when he ruled, all foreign powers had trembled at the name of England ; how the States- general, now so haughty, had crouched at his feet ; and how, when it was known that he was no more, Amsterdam was lighted up as for a great deliverance, and children ran along the canals, shouting for joy that the Devil was dead. Even Royalists exclaimed that the state could be saved only by calling the old soldiers of the Commonwealth to arms. Soon the capital began to feel the miseries of a blockade. Fuel was scarceh' to be procured. Tilbury Fort, the place where Elizabeth had, with manly spirit, hurled foul scorn at Parma and Spain, was insulted b}^ the in- vaders. The roar of foreign guns was heard, for the first and last time, by the citizens of London. In the Council it was seriously proposed that, if the enemy advanced, the Tower should be abandoned. Great multitudes of people assembled in the streets crying out that England was bought and sold. The houses and carriages of the ministers were attacked by the popu- lace ; and it seemed likely that the government would have to deal at once with an invasion and with an in- surrection. The extreme danger, it is true, soon passed by. A treat}' was concluded, very different from the treaties which Oliver had been in the habit of signing ; and the nation was once more at peace, but was, in a mood scarcely less fierce and sullen than in the days of ship-money. 222 History of England The discontent engendered by maladministration was heightened by calamities which the best administration could not have averted. While the ignominious war with Holland was raging, I^ondon suffered two great disasters, such as never, in so short a space of time, be- fell one city. A pestilence, surpassing in horror any that during three centuries had visited the island, swept away, in six months, more than a hundred thousand human beings. And scarcely had the dead-cart ceased to go its rounds, when a fire, such as had not been known in Europe since the conflagration of Rome under Nero, laid in ruins the whole city, from the Tower to the Temple, and from the river to the pur- lieus of Smithfield. Had there been a general election while the nation was smarting under so many disgraces and misfortunes, ^ .^. it is probable that the Roundheads would Opposition -i^ in the House liavc regained ascendency in the state. But of Commons, ^j^^ Parliament was still the Cavaher ParHa- ment, chosen in the transport of loyalty which had followed the Restoration. Nevertheless it soon became evident that no Eno;lish legislature, however lo3^al, would now consent to be merely what the legislature had been under the Tudors. From the death of Eliz- abeth to the eve of the civil war, the Puritans, who predominated in the representative body, had been constantly, by a dexterous use of the power of the purse, encroaching on the province of the executive government. The gentlemen who, after the Restora- tion, filled the Eower House, though they abhorred the Puritan name, were well pleased to inherit the fruit of the Puritan policy. They were indeed most willing to employ the power which they possessed in the state for Under Charles the Second 223 the purpose of making their king mighty and honored, both at home and abroad ; but with the power itself they were resolved not to part. The great Knglish revolution of the seventeenth centur>-, that is to sa>', the transfer of the suprcnit: control of the executive administration from the crown to the House of Com- mons, was, through the whole long existence of this Parliament, proceeding noiselessly, but rapidh' and steadily. Charles, kept poor by his follies and vices, wanted money. The Commons alone could legally grant him money. The}' could not be prevented from putting their own price on their grants. The price which they put on their grants was this, that they should be allowed to interfere with every one of the King's prerogatives, to wring from him his consent to laws which he disliked, to break up cabinets, to dictate the course of foreign policy, and even to direct the administration of war. To the royal office, and the ro\'al person, they loudl}- and sincerely professed the strongest attachment. But to Clarendon they owed no allegiance; and they fell on him as furiously If'* °^ as their predecessors had fallen on Strafford. Clarendon. ^ The minister's virtues and vices alike con- tributed to his ruin. He was the ostensible head of the administration, and was therefore held responsible even for those acts which he had .strongly, but vainly, op- posed in Council. He was regarded l)y the Puritans, and by all who pitied them, an an implacable bigot, a second Laud, with much more than Laud's understand- ing. He had on all occasions maintained that the Act of Indemnity ought to be strictly observed ; and this part of his conduct, though highly honorable to him, made him hateful to all those Rovali.sts who wished to 2 24 History of England repair their ruined fortunes by suing the Roundheads for damages and mesne profits. The Presbyterians of Scotland attributed to him the downfall of their Church. The Papists of Ireland attributed to him the loss of their lands. As father of the Duchess of York, he had an obvious motive for wishing that there might be a barren queen ; and he was therefore suspected of having purposely recommended one. The sale of Dunkirk was justly imputed to him. For the war with Holland, he was, with less justice, held account- able. His hot temper, his arrogant deportment, the indelicate eagerness with which he grasped at riches, the ostentation with which he squandered them, his picture-gallery, filled with masterpieces of Vandyke which had once been the property of ruined Cavaliers, his palace, which reared its long and stately front right opposite to the humbler residence of our kings, drew on him much deserv^ed, and some undeserved, censure. When the Dutch fleet was in the Thames, it was against the Chancellor that the rage of the populace was chiefly directed. His windows were broken, the trees of his garden were cut down ; and a gibbet was set up before his door. But nowhere was he more detested than in the House of Commons. He was unable to perceive that the time was fast approaching when that House, if it continued to exist at all, must be supreme in the state, when the management of that House would be the most important department of politics, and when, without the help of men possessing the ear of that House, it would be impossible to carr^'- on the govern- ment. He obstinately persisted in considering the Parliament as a body in no respect differing from the Parliament which had been sitting when, forty years Under Charles the Second 225 before, he first began to study law at the Temple. He did not wish to deprive the legislature of those powers which were inherent in it by the old constitution of the realm ; but the new development of those powers, though a development natural, inevitable, and to be prevented only by utterly destroying the powers them- selves, disgusted and alarmed him. Nothing would have induced him to put the great seal to a writ for raising ship-money, or to give his voice in council for commit- ting a Member of Parliament to the Tower, on account of words spoken in debate : but, when the Commons began to inquire in what manner the money voted for the war had been wasted and to examine into the mal- administration of the navy, he flamed with indignation. Such inquiry, according to him, was out of their pro- vince. He admitted that the House was a most loyal assembly, that it had done good service to the crown, and that its intentions were excellent. But, both in public and in the closet, he, on every occasion, ex- pressed his concern that gentlemen so sincerely attached to monarchy should unadvisedly encroach on the pre- rogative of the monarch. Widely as they differed in spirit from the members of the I^ong Parliament, they yet, he said, imitated that Parliament in meddling with matters which lay beyond the sphere of the estates of the realm, and which were subject to the authority of the crown alone. The country, he maintained, would never be well governed till the knights of shires and the burgesses were content to be what their predeces- sors had been in the days of Elizabeth. All the plans which men more observant than himself of the signs of that time proposed, for the purpose of maintaining a good understanding between the court and the Com- VOL. I. — 15 226 History of England mons, he disdainfully rejected as crude projects, incon- sistent with the old polity of England. Toward the young orators, who were rising to distinction and au- thorit}' in the L,ower House, his deportment was un- gracious ; and he succeeded in making them, with scarcely an exception, his deadly enemies. Indeed, one of his most serious faults w\as an inordinate con- tempt for youth : and this contempt was the more un- justifiable, because his owm experience in English politics was b}- no means proportionate to his age. For so great a part of his life had been passed abroad that he knew less of that world in which he found himself on his return than many who might have been his sons. For these reasons he was disliked by the Commons. For very different reasons he was equally disliked by the court. His morals as well as his poltics were those of an earlier generation. Even when he was a young law student, living much with men of wit and pleasure, his natural gravity and his religious principles had to a great extent preserved him from the contagion of fashionable debauchery ; and he was by no means likely, in advanced years and in declining health, to turn libertine. On the vices of the 3^oung and gay he looked with an aversion almost as bitter and contemptu- ous as that which he felt for the theological errors of the sectaries. He missed no opportunity^ of showing his scorn of the mimics, revellers, and courtesans who crowded the palace ; and the admonitions which he addressed to the King himself were very sharp, and, what Charles disliked still more, very long. Scarcely any voice was raised in favor of a minister loaded with the double odium of faults which roused the fury of Under Charles the Second 227 the people, and of virtues which aniio^-ed and impor- tuned the sovereign. Southampton was no more. Ormond performed the duties of friendship manfully and faithfully, but in vain. The Chancellor fell with a great ruin. The seal was taken from him : the Commons impeached him : his head was not safe : he fled from the country: an act was passed which doomed him to perpetual exile ; and those who had assailed and undermined him began to struggle for the fragments of his power. The sacrifice of Clarendon in some degree took off the edge of the public appetite for revenge. Yet was the anger excited by the profusion and negligence of the government, and by the miscarriages of the late war, by no means extinguished. The counsellors of Charles, with the fate of the Chancellor before their eyes, were anxious for their own safety. They accord- ingly advised their master to soothe the irritation which prevailed both in the Parliament and through- out the country, and for that end, to take a step which has no parallel in the history of the House of Stuart, and which was worthy of the prudence and magna- nimity of Oliver. We have now reached a point at which the history of the great English revolution begins to be compli- cated with the history' of foreign politics, state of ^-^^ power of Spain had, during many European '^ \ ... politics, and ycars, bccu declining. She still, it is true, ascendency -^^^^ j^^ Europe the Milanese and the Two of France. ^ i -ta -i ,-^ ' -r Sicilies, Belgium, and Franche Comte. In America her dominions still spread, on both sides of the equator, far beyond the limits of the torrid zone. But this great body had been smitten with palsy, and 228 History of England was not only incapable of giving molestation to other states, but could not, without assistance, repel aggres- sion. France was now, beyond all doubt, the greatest power in Europe. Her resources have, since those days, absolutely increased, but have not increased so fast as the resources of England. It must also be remem- bered that, a hundred and eighty years ago, the empire of Russia, now a monarchy of the first class, was as entirely out of the system of European politics as Ab}'ssinia or Siam, that the House of Brandenburg was then hard! 3^ more powerful that the House of Saxony, and that the Republic of the United States had not then begun to exist. The weight of France, therefore, though still very considerable, has relatively dimin- ished. Her territory was not in the days of Eewis the Fourteenth quite so extensive as at present : but it was large, compact, fertile, well placed both for attack and for defence, situated in a happ}' climate, and inhabited by a brave, active, and ingenious people. The state implicitly obeyed the direction of a single mind. The great fiefs which, three hundred years before, had been, in all but name, independent principalities, had been annexed to the crown. Only a few old men could re- member the last meeting of the States-general. The resistance which the Huguenots, the nobles, and the parliaments had offered to the kinglj^ power, had been put down by the two great cardinals who had ruled the nation during fort}' years. The government was now a despotism, but, at least in its dealings with the upper classes, a mild and generous despotism, tempered by courteous manners and chivalrous sentiments. The means at the disposal of the sovereign were, for that age, truly formidable. His revenue, raised, it is true, Under Charles the Second 229 by a severe and unequal taxation which pressed heavily on the cultivators of the soil, far exceeded that of any other potentate. His army, excellently disciplined, and commanded by the greatest generals then living, already consisted of more than a hundred and twenty thousand men. Such an array of regular troops had not been seen in Europe since the downfall of the Roman Empire. Of maritime powers France was not the first. But, though she had rivals on the sea, she had not yet a superior. Such was her strength during the last forty years of the seventeenth century', that no enemy could singly withstand her, and that two great coalitions, in which half Christendom was united against her, failed of success. The personal qualities of the French King added to the respect inspired by the power and importance of his kingdom. No sovereign has ever repre- character of ^^^ ^^iQ majesty of a great state with Lewis XIV. J ^ o more dignity and grace. He was his own prime minister, and performed the duties of a prime minister with an ability and an industry which could not be reasonably expected from one who had in in- fancy succeeded to a crown, and who had been sur- rounded by flatterers before he could speak. He had shown, in an eminent degree, two talents invaluable to a prince, the talent of choosing his servants well, and the talent of appropriating to himself the chief part of the credit of their acts. In his dealings with foreign powers he had some generosity, but no justice. To un- happy allies who threw themselves at his feet, and had no hope but in his compassion, he extended his pro- tection with a romantic disinterestedness, which seemed better suited to a knight-errant than to a statesman. 230 History of England But he broke through the most sacred ties of public faith without scruple or shame, whenev^er they inter- fered with his interest, or with what he called his glory. His perfidy and violence, however, excited less enmity than the insolence with which he constantly reminded his neighbors of his own greatness and of their little- ness. He did not at this time profess the austere devo- tion which, at a later period, gave to his court the aspect of a monastery. On the contrary, he was as licentious, though by no means as frivolous and indo- lent, as his brother of England. But he was a sincere Roman Catholic ; and both his conscience and his vanit}^ impelled him to use his powder for the defence and propagation of the true faith, after the example of his renowned predecessors, Clovis, Charlemagne, and Saint Lewis. Our ancestors naturally looked with serious alarm on the growing power of France. This feeling, in itself perfectly reasonable, was mingled with other feelings less praiseworthy. France was our old enemy. It was against France that the most glorious battles recorded in our annals had been fought. The conquest of France had been twice effected by the Plantagenets. The loss of France had been long remembered as a great national disaster. The title of King of France was still borne by our sovereigns. The lilies of France still appeared, mingled with our own lions, on the shield of the House of Stuart. In the sixteenth century the dread inspired by Spain had suspended the animosity of which France had anciently been the object. But the dread inspired by Spain had given place to contemptuous compassion ; and France was again regarded as our national foe. The sale of Dunkirk to France had been the most gen- Under Charles the Second 27^1 erall y unpopular act of the restored King. Attachment to France had been prominent among the crimes im- puted by the Commons to Clarendon. Even in trifles the public feehng showed itself. When a brawl took place in the streets of Westminster between the retinues of the French and Spanish embassies, the populace, though forcibly prevented from interfering, had given unequivocal proofs that the old antipathy to France was not extinct. France and Spain were now engaged in a more seri- ous contest. One of the chief objects of the policy of Ive\\as throughout his life was to extend his dominions toward the Rhine. For this end he had engaged in war with Spain, and he was now in the full career of conquest. The United Provinces saw with anxiety the progress of his arms. That renowmed federation had reached the height of power, prosperity, and glory. The Batavian territory, conquered from the waves and defended against them by human art, was in extent little superior to the principalit>' of Wales. But all that narrow space was a bus)- and populous hive, in which new w^ealth was every day created, and in which vast masses of old wealth were hoarded. The aspect of Holland, the rich cultivation, the innumerable canals, the ever-whirling mills, the endless fleets of barges, the quick succession of great towns, the ports bristling with thousands of masts, the large and stately mansions, the trim villas, the richly furnished apart- ments, the picture-galleries, the summer-houses, the tulip-beds, produced on English travellers in that age an effect similar to the efi"ect which the first sight of England now produces on a Norwegian or a Canadian. The vStates-general had been compelled to humble 232 History of England themselves before Cromwell. But after the Restoration they had taken their revenge, had waged war with suc- cess against Charles, and had concluded peace on honorable terms. Rich, however, as the republic was, and highly considered in Europe, she was no match for the power of IvCwis. She apprehended, not without good cause, that his kingdom might soon be extended to her frontiers ; and she might well dread the immedi- ate vicinity of a monarch so great, so ambitious, and so unscrupulous. Yet it was not easy to devise any ex- pedient which might avert the danger. The Dutch alone could not turn the scale against France. On the side of the Rhine no help was to be expected. Several German princes had been gained by L-ewis ; and the Emperor himself was embarrassed b}' the discontents of Hungary. England was separated from the United Provinces by the recollection of cruel injuries recently inflicted and endured ; and her policy had, since the Restoration, been so devoid of wisdom and spirit, that it was scarcely possible to expect from her any valuable assistance. But the fate of Clarendon and the growing ill humor of the Parliament determined the advisers of Charles to adopt on a sudden a polic}^ which amazed and delighted the nation. The English resident at Brussels, Sir William Temple, one of the most expert diplomatists and most pleasing writers of that age, had already The Trip e represented to his court that it was both de- Alliance. ^ sirable and practicable to enter into engage- ments with the States-general for the purpose of check- ing the progress of France. For a time his suggestions had been slighted; but it was now thought expedient to Under Charles the Second 233 act on them. He was commissioned to negotiate with the States-general. He proceeded to the Hague, and soon came to an understanding with John De Witt, then the chief minister of Holland. Sweden, small as her resources were, had, fort}^ ^-ears before, been raised by the genius of Gustavus Adolphus, to a high rank among European powers, and had not yet descended to her natural position. She was induced to join on this occasion with England and the States. Thus was formed that coalition known as the Triple Alliance. I^ewis showed signs of vexation and resentment, but did not think it politic to draw on himself the hostility of such a confederacy in addition to that of Spain. He consented, therefore, to relinquish a large part of the territory- which his armies had occupied. Peace was restored to Europe ; and the English government, lately an object of general contempt, was, during a few months, regarded by foreign powers with respect scarcely less than that which the Protector had inspired. At home the Triple Alliance was popular in the highest degree. It gratified alike national animosity and national pride. It put a limit to the encroach- ments of a powerful and ambitious neighbor. It bound the leading Protestant states together in close union. Cavaliers and Roundheads rejoiced in common ; but the joy of the Roundhead was even greater than that of the Cavalier. For England had now allied herself strictly with a country republican in government and Presbyterian in religion, against a country ruled by an arbitrary prince and attached to the Roman Catholic Church. The House of Commons loudly applauded the treaty ; and some uncourtly grumblers described it 234 History of England as the only good thing that had been done since the King came in. The King, however, cared little for the approbation of his Parliament or of his people. The Triple Alliance he regarded merely as a temporary expedient for quiet- ing discontents which had seemed likely to become serious. The independence, the safety, the The^ ountry ^^jg^j^y gf |-]-^g natiou ovcr which he presided were nothing to him. He had begun to find constitutional restraints galling. Already had been formed in the Parliament a strong connection known by the name of the Country Part}-. That part}- included all the public men who leaned toward Puri- tanism and Republicanism, and many who, though attached to the Church and to hereditary monarchy, had been driven into opposition by dread of Popery, by dread of France and by disgust at the extravagance, dissoluteness, and faithlessness of the court. The power of this band of politicians was constantly grow- ing. Every year some of those members who had been returned to Parliament during the lo3^al excitement of 1 66 1 had dropped off ; and the vacant seats had gener- ally been filled by persons less tractable. Charles did not think himself a king while an assembly of subjects could call for his accounts before paying his debts, and could insist on knowing which of his mistresses or boon companions had intercepted the money destined for the equipping and manning of the fleet. Though not very studious of fame, he was galled by the taunts which were sometimes uttered in the discussions of the Commons, and on one occasion attempted to restrain the freedom of speech by disgraceful means. Sir John Coventry, a country gentleman, had, in debate, sneered Under Charles the Second 235 at the profligacy of the court. In any former reign he would probably have been called before the Privy Council and committed to the Tower. A different course was now taken. A gang of bullies was secretly sent to slit the nose of the offender. This ignoble re- venge, instead of quelling the spirit of opposition, raised such a tempest that the King was compelled to submit to the cruel humiliation of passing an act which attainted the instruments of his revenge, and which took from him the power of pardoning them. But, impatient as he was of constitutional restraints, how was he to emancipate himself from them ? He could make himself despotic only by the help of a great standing army ; and such an army was not in exist- ence. His revenues did, indeed enable him to keep up some regular troops : but those troops, though numer- ous enough to excite great jealousy and apprehension in the House of Commons and in the countr}^ were scarcely numerous enough to protect Whitehall and the Tower against a rising of the mob of IvOndon. Such risings were, indeed, to be dreaded ; for it was calcu- lated that in the capital and its suburbs dwelt not less than twenty thousand of Oliver's old soldiers. Since the King was bent on emancipating himself from the control of Parliament, and since, in such an enterprise, he could not hope for effectual Connection . - , . - ,, between ^id at liomc, it lollowed that he must look Charles II. for aid abroad. The power and wealth of the King of France might be equal to the arduous task of establishing absolute monarchy in Eng- land. Such an alh' would undoubtedly expect sub- stantial proofs of gratitude for such a service. Charles must descend to the rank of a great vassal, and must 236 History of England make peace and war according to the directions of the government which protected him. His relation to Lewis would closely resemble that in which the Rajah of Nagpore and the King of Oude now stand to the British government. Those princes are bound to aid the East India Company in all hostilities, defensive and offensive, and to have no diplomatic relations but such as the East India Company shall sanction. The Company in return guarantees them against insurrec- tion. As long as the}^ faithfully discharge their obli- gations to the paramount power, they are permitted to dispose of large revenues, to fill their palaces with beautiful women, to besot themselves in the company of their favorite revellers, and to oppress with impunity any subject who may incur their displeasure.' Such a life would be insupportable to a man of high spirit and of powerful understanding. But to Charles, sensual, indolent, unequal to any strong intellectual exertion, and destitute alike of all patriotism and of all sense of personal dignity, the prospect had nothing un- pleasing. That the Duke of York should have concurred in the design of degrading that crown which it was probable that he would himself one day wear may seem more extraordinary. For his nature was haughty and im- perious ; and, indeed, he continued to the very last to show, by occasional starts and struggles, his impatience of the French yoke. But he was almost as much de- based by superstition as his brother by indolence and vice. James was now a Roman Catholic. Religious ' I am happy to say, that, since this passage was written, the territories both of the Rajah of Nagpore and of the King of Oude have been added to the British dominions (1857). Under Charles the Second 2i^j bigotr}^ had become the dominant sentiment of his nar- row and stubborn mind, and had so mingled itself with his love of rule, that the two passions could hardly be distinguished from each other. It seemed highly im- probable that, without foreign aid, he would be able to obtain ascende^c^^ or even toleration, for his own faith ; and he was in a temper to see nothing humiliating in any step which might promote the interests of the true Church. A negotiation was opened which lasted during several months. The chief agent between the English and French courts w^as the beautiful, graceful, and intelli- gent Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans, sister of Charles, sister-in-law of Lewis, and a favorite with both. The King of England offered to declare himself a Roman Catholic, to dissolve the Triple Alliance, and to join with France against Holland, if France would engage to lend him such militar\^ and pecuniary aid as might make him independent of his Parhament. Lewis at first aflfected to receive these propositions coolly, and at length agreed to them with the air of a man who is conferring a great favor ; but, in truth, the course which he had resolved to take was one by which he might gain and could not lose. It seems certain that he never seriously thought of establishing despotism and Popery in England by force of arms. He must have been aware Le^J^swith that such an enterprise would be in the respect to highest degree arduous and hazardous, that England. .^ would task to the utmost all the energies of France during many years, and that it would be altogether incompatible with more promising schemes of aggrandizement, which w^ere dear to his heart. He 238 History of England would indeed willingly have acquired the merit and the glory of doing a great service on reasonable terms to the Church of which he was a member. But he was little disposed to imitate his ancestors who, in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, had led the flower of French chivalry to die in S3'ria and Egypt ; and he w^ell knew that a crusade against Protestantism in Great Britain would not be less perilous than the ex- peditions in which the armies of I^ewis the Seventh and I,ewis the Ninth had perished. He had no motive for wishing the Stuarts to be absolute. He did not re- gard the English constitution with feelings at all re- sembling those which have in later times induced princes to make war on the free institutions of neigh- boring nations. At present a great party zealous for popular government has ramifications in every civilized country. Any important advantage gained anywhere by that party is almost certain to be the signal for general commotion. It is not wonderful that govern- ments threatened by a common danger should combine for the purpose of mutual insurance. But in the seven- teenth century no such danger existed. Between the public mind of England and the public mind of France, there was a great gulf. Our institutions and our fac- tions were as little understood at Paris as at Constanti- nople. It may be doubted whether any one of the forty members of the French Academy had an English volume in his library, or knew Shakspeare, Jonson, or Spenser, even by name. A few Huguenots, who had inherited the mutinous spirit of their ancestors, might perhaps have a fellow-feeling with their brethren in the faith, the English Roundheads ; but the Huguenots had ceased to be formidable. The French, as a people, Under Charles the Second 239 attached to the Church of Rome, and proud of the greatness of their king and of their own loyalty, looked on our struggles against Popery and arbitrary power, not only without admiration or sympathy, but T^ith strong disapprobation and disgust. It would therefore be a great error to ascribe the conduct of Lewis to apprehensions at all resembling those which, in our age, induced the Holy Alliance to interfere in the internal troubles of Naples and Spain. Nevertheless, the propositions made by the court of Whitehall were most welcome to him. He already meditated gigantic designs, which were destined to keep Europe in constant fermentation during more than forty 3'ears. He wished to humble the United Provinces, and to annex Belgium, Franche Comte, and Lorraine to his dominions. Nor was this all. The King of Spain was a sicklv child. It was likely that he would die w^ithout issue. His eldest sister was Queen of France. A day would almost certainly come, and might come very soon, when the House of Bourbon might lay claim to that vast empire on which the sun never set. The union of two great monarchies under one head would doubtless be opposed by a continental coalition. But for any continental coalition France single-handed was a match. England could turn the scale. On the course which, in such a crisis, England might pursue, the destinies of the world would depend ; and it was notorious that the English Parliament and nation were strongly attached to the policy which had dictated the Triple Alliance. Nothing, therefore, could be more gratifying to Lewis than to learn that the princes of the House of Stuart needed his help, and were willing to purchase that help by unbounded sub- 240 History of England servienc3^ He determined to profit by the opportunity, and laid down for himself a plan to which, without deviation, he adhered, till the Revolution of 1688 dis- concerted all his politics. He professed himself desirous to promote the designs of the English court. He promised large aid. He from time to time doled out such aid as might serve to keep hope alive, and as he could without risk or inconvenience spare. In this way, at an expense very much less than that which he incurred in building and decorating Versailles or Marli, he succeeded in making England, during nearly twenty years, almost as insignificant a member of the political system of Europe as the republic of San Marino. His object was not to destroy our constitution, but to keep the various elements of which it was composed in a perpetual state of conflict, and to set irreconcilable enmity between those who had the power of the purse and those who had the power of the sword. With this view he bribed and stimulated both parties in turn, pen- sioned at once the ministers of the crown and the chiefs of the Opposition, encouraged the court to withstand the seditious encroachments of the Parliament, and conveyed to the Parliament intimations of the arbitrary designs of the court. One of the devices to which he resorted for the pur- pose of obtaining an ascendency in the English counsels deserves especial notice. Charles, though incapable of love in the highest sense of the word, was the slave of any woman whose person excited his desires, and whose airs and prattle amused his leisure. Indeed a husband would be justly derided w^ho should bear from a wife of exalted rank and spotless virtue half the insolence which the King of England bore from concubines who, Under Charles the Second 241 while they owed everything to his bount}', caressed his courtiers almost before his face. He had patiently en- dured the termagant passions of Barbara Palmer and the pert vivacity of Eleanor Gwynn. I^ewis thought that the most useful envoy who could be sent to London would be a handsome, licentious, and crafty Frenchwoman. Such a w^oman was Louisa, a lady of the House of Querouaille, whom our rude ancestors called Madame Carwell. She was soon triumphant over all her rivals, was created Duchess of Portsmouth, was loaded with wealth, and obtained a dominion w^hich ended only with the life of Charles. The most important conditions of the alliance be- tween the crowns were digested into a secret treaty which w^as signed at Dover in May, 1670, Dover, ° J^^^ ^^^^ 3'ears after the day on which Charles had landed at that very port amidst the ac- clamations and joyful tears of a too confiding people. By this treaty Charles bound himself to make public profession of the Roman Catholic religion, to join his arms to those of Lewis for the purpose of destroying the power of the United Provinces, and to employ the whole strength of England, by land and sea, in support of the rights of the House of Bourbon to the vast monarchy of Spain. Lewis, on the other hand, en- gaged to pay a large subsidy, and promised that, if any insurrection should break out in England, he would send an army at his owm charge to support his ally. This compact was made with gloomy auspices. Six weeks after it had been signed and sealed, the charm- ing princess, whose influence over her brother and brother-in-law had been so pernicious to her country, was no more. Her death gave rise to horrible sus- Vi>L. I. — 16 242 History of England picions which, for a moment, seemed hkely to interrupt the newly formed friendship between the Houses of Stuart and Bourbon ; but in a short time fresh assur- ances of undiminished good-will were exchanged be- tween the confederates. The Duke of York, too dull to apprehend danger, or too fanatical to care about it, w^as impatient to see the article touching the Roman Catholic religion carried into immediate execution : but Lewis had the wisdom to perceive that, if this course were taken, there would be such an explosion in England as would probably frustrate those parts of the plan which he had most at heart. It was therefore determined that Charles should still call himself a Protestant, and should still, at high festivals, receive the sacrament according to the ritual of the Church of England. His more scrup- ulous brother ceased to appear in the royal chapel. About this time died the Duchess of York, daughter of the banished Earl of Clarendon. She had been, during some years, a concealed Roman Catholic. She left two daughters, Mar\' and Anne, afterward suc- cessively Queens of Great Britain. They were bred Protestants by the positive command of the King, who knew that it would be vain for him to profess himself a member of the Church of England, if children who seemed likely to inherit his throne were, by his per- mission, brought up as members of the Church of Rome. The principal ser\'ants of the crown at this time were men whose names have justly acquired an unenviable notoriety. We must take heed, however, that we do not load their memory with infamy which of right belongs to their master. For the treaty of Dover the Under Charles the Second 243 King himself is chiefly answerable. He held con- ferences on it with the French agents : he wrote many letters concerning it with his own hand : he was the person who first suggested the most disgraceful articles which it contained ; and he carefully concealed sonje of those articles from the majority of his cabinet. Few things in our history are more curious than the origin and growth of the power now possessed b}- the Nature of the Cabinet. From an early period the Kings English of England had been assisted by a privy Cabinet. couucil to which the law assigned many im- portant functions and duties. During several centuries this bod}' deliberated on the gravest and most delicate affairs. But by degrees its character changed. It be- came too large for despatch and secrecy. The rank of privy councillor was often bestowed as an honorary distinction on persons to whom nothing was confided, and whose opinion w^as never asked. The sovereign, on the most important occasions, resorted for advice to a small knot of leading ministers. The advantages and disadvantages of this course were early pointed out b}- Bacon, with his usual judgment and .sagacity ; but it was not till after the Restoration that the interior council began to attract general notice. During many years old-fashioned politicians continued to regard the Cabinet as an unconstitutional and dangerous board. Nevertheless, it constantly became more and more im- portant. It at length drew to itself the chief executive power, and has now been regarded, during several gen- erations, as an essential part of our polit}'. Yet, strange to say, it still continues to be altogether unknown to the law : the names of the noblemen and gentlemen who compose it are never officially announced to the 244 History of England public : no record is kept of its meetings and resolu- tions ; nor has its existence ever been recognized by any act of Parliament. During some years the word Cabal was popularly used as S3^non3'mous with Cabinet. But it happened by a whimsical coincidence that, in 167 1, The Cabal. , ^ , . . , - _ ' the Cabinet consisted 01 rive persons, the initial letters of whose names made up the word Cabal : Clifford, Arlington, Buckingham, Ashle^^ and Lauder- dale. These ministers were, therefore, emphatically called the Cabal ; and the}- soon made that appellation so infamous that it has never since their time been used except as a term of reproach. Sir Thomas Clifford was a Commissioner of the Treasury, and had greatly distinguished himself in the House of Commons. Of the members of the Cabal he was the most respectable. For, with a fiery and im- perious temper, he had a strong though a lamentably perverted sense of dut}" and honor. Henry Bennet, Lord Arlington, then Secretary of State, had, since he came to manhood, resided princi- pally on the Continent, and had learned that cosmo- politan indifference to constitutions and religions which is often observable in persons whose life has been passed in vagrant diplomacy. If there was any form of gov- ernment which he liked, it was that of France. If there was any Church for which he felt a preference, it was that of Rome. He had some talent for conv^ersa- tion, and some talent also for transacting the ordinary business of office. He had learned, during a life passed in travelling and negotiating, the art of accommodating his language and deportment to the society in which he found himself. His vivacity in the closet amused Under Charles the Second 245 the King ; his gravity in debates and conferences im- posed on the public ; and he had succeeded in attach- ing to himself, partly by services and partly by hopes, a considerable number of personal retainers. Buckingham, Ashle\-, and Lauderdale were men in whom the immorality which was epidemic among the politicians of that age appeared in its most malignant type, but variously modified by great diversities of temper and understanding. Buckingham w^as a sated man of pleasure, who had turned to ambition as to a pastime. As he had tried to amuse himself with archi- tecture and music, with writing farces and with seeking for the philosopher's stone, so he now tried to amuse himself with a secret negotiation and a Dutch war. He had already, rather from fickleness and love of novelty than from any deep design, been faithless to e very- party. At one time he had ranked among the Cava- liers. At another time w^arrants had been out against him for maintaining a treasonable correspondence with the remains of the Republican party in the cit}-. He was now again a courtier, and was eager to win the favor of the King by services from which the most illus- trious of those \vho had fought and suffered for the royal house would have recoiled with horror. Ashley, with a far stronger head, and with a far fiercer and more earnest ambition, had been equalh^ versatile. But Ashley's versatility was the effect, not of levity, but of deliberate selfishness. He had served and betrayed a succession of governments. But he had timed all his treacheries so well that, through all revolutions, his fortunes had constantly been rising. The multitude, struck with admiration by a prosperity which, while everything else was constantly changing, 246 History of England remained unchangeable, attributed to hira a prescience almost miraculous, and likened him to the Hebrew statesman of whom it is written that his counsel was as if a man had inquired of the oracle of God. I^auderdale, loud and coarse both in mirth and anger, was perhaps, under the outward show of boisterous frankness, the most dishonest man in the whole Cabal. He had made himself conspicuous among the Scotch insurgents of 1638 by his zeal for the Covenant. He was accused of having been deeply concerned in the sale of Charles the First to the English Parliament, and was therefore, in the estimation of good Cavaliers, a traitor, if possible, of a worse description than those who had sat in the High Court of Justice. He often talked with noisy jocularity of the days when he was a canter and a rebel. He was now the chief instrument employed by the court in the work of forcing episcopacy on his reluctant countrymen ; nor did h.e in that cause shrink from the unsparing use of the sword, the halter, and the boot. Yet those who knew him knew that thirty 3^ears had made no change in his real sentiments, that he still hated the memory of Charles the First, and that he still preferred the Presbyterian form of church government to every other. Unscrupulous as Buckingham, Ashley, and Lauder- dale were, it was not thought safe to intrust to them the King's intention of declaring himself a Roman Catholic. A false treaty, in which the article concern- ing religion was omitted, was shown to them. The names and seals of Cliflford and Arlington are affixed to the genuine treaty. Both these statesmen had a par- tiality for the old Church, a partiality which the brave and vehement Clifford in no long time manfully Under Charles the Second 247 avowed, but which the colder and meaner Arlington concealed, till the near approach of death scared him into sincerity. The three other cabinet ministers, however, were not men to be easily kept in the dark, and probably suspected more than was distinctly avowed to them. They were certainly privy to all the political engagements contracted with France, and were not ashamed to receive large gratifications from I^ewis. The first object of Charles was to obtain from the Commons supplies which might be employed in exe- cuting the secret treaty. The Cabal, holding power at a time when our government was in a state of transition, united in itself two different kinds of vices belonging to two different ages and to two different systems. As those five evil counsellors were among the last English statesmen who seriously thought of destro>dng the Parliament, so they were the first English statesmen who attempted extensively to cor- rupt it. "We find in their policy at once the latest trace of the Thorough of Strafford, and the earliest trace of that methodical bribery which was after- ward practised by Walpole. They soon perceived, however, that, though the House of Commons was chiefl}^ composed of Cavaliers, and though places and French gold had been lavished on the members, there was no chance that even the least odious parts of the scheme arranged at Dover would be supported by a majority. It was necessar\' to have recourse to fraud. The King accordingly professed great zeal for the principles of the Triple Alliance, and pretended that, in order to hold the ambition of France in check, it would be necessary to augment the fleet. The Com- 248 History of England nioiis fell into the snare, and voted a grant of eight hundred thousand pounds. The Parliament was in- stantly prorogued ; and the court, thus emancipated from control, proceeded to the execution of the great design. The financial difficulties, however, were serious. A war with Holland could be carried on only at enormous ou ..- cost. The ordinary revenue was not more Shutting -' of the than sufficient to support the government in Exchequer, ^jj^jg ^f peacc. The tight hundred thousand pounds out of wdiich the Commons had just been tricked would not defray the naval and military charge of a single year of hostilities. After the terrible lesson given by the Long Parliament, even the Cabal did not venture to recommend benevolences or ship-money. In this perplexity Ashley and Clifford proposed a flagitious breach of public faith. The goldsmiths of London were then not only dealers in the precious metals, but also bankers, and were in the habit of advancing large sums of money to the government. In return for these advances they received assignments on the revenue, and were repaid with interest as the taxes came in. About thirteen hundred thousand pounds had been in this w^ay intrusted to the honor of the state. On a sudden it was announced that it was not convenient to pay the principal, and that the lenders must content themselves with interest. They were consequently unable to meet their own engage- ments. The exchange w^as in an uproar : several great mercantile houses broke ; and dismay and distress spread through all society. Meanwhile rapid strides were made toward despotism. Proclamations, dis- pensing wdth acts of Parliament, or enjoining what Under Charles the Second 249 only Parliament could lawfully enjoin, appeared in rapid succession. Of these edicts the most important was the Declaration of Indulgence. By this instrument the penal laws against Roman Catholics were set aside ; and, that the real object of the measure might not be perceived, the laws against Protestant Non-conformists were also suspended. A few days after the appearance of the Declaration of Indulgence, war was proclaimed against the United Provinces. By sea the Dutch maintained War with the struggle with honor ; but on land they the United ^ Provinces, wcre at first borne down by irresistible and their forcc. A great French army passed the danger. Rhine. Fortress after fortress opened its gates. Three of the seven provinces of the federation were occupied by the invaders. The fires of the hostile camp were seen from the top of the Stadthouse of Amsterdam. The republic, thus fiercely assailed from without, was torn at the same time by internal dissensions. The government was in the hands of a close oligarchy of powerful burghers. There were numerous self-elected town councils, each of which exercised, within its own sphere, many of the rights of sovereignty. These councils sent delegates to the Provincial States, and the Provincial States again sent delegates to the States-general. A hereditary first magistrate was no essential part of this polit3^ Never- theless one family, singularly fertile of great men, had gradually obtained a large and somewhat indefinite authority. William, first of the name. Prince of Orange-Nassau, and Stadtholder of Holland, had headed the memorable insurrection against Spain. His son Maurice had been captain-general and first minister 2nO History of England of the states, had, by eminent abilities and public services, and by some treacherous and cruel actions, raised himself to almost kingly power, and had be- queathed a great part of that power to his family. The influence of the Stadtholders was an object of extreme jealousy to the municipal oligarchy. But the army, and that great body of citizens which was excluded from all share in the government, looked on the burgo- masters and deputies with a dislike resembling the dislike with which the legions and the common people of Rome regarded the Senate, and were as zealous for the House of Orange as the legions and the common people of Rome for the House of Caesar. The Stadt- holder commanded the forces of the commonwealth, disposed of all military commands, had a large share of the civil patronage, and was surrounded by pomp almost regal. Prince William the Second had been strongly opposed by the oligarchical party. His life had terminated in the year 1650, amidst great civil troubles. He died childless : the adherents of his house were left for a short time without a head ; and the powers which he had exercised were divided among the town councils, the Provincial States, and the States-general. But, a few days after William's death, his widow, Mary, daughter of Charles the First, King of Great Britain, gave birth to a son, destined to raise the glory and authority of the House of Nassau to the highest point, to save the United Provinces from slavery, to curb the power of France, and to establish the English constitution on a lasting foundation. This prince, named William Henry, was from his birth an object of serious apprehension to the party Under Charles the Second 251 now supreme in Holland, and of loyal attachment to the old friends of his line. He enjoyed high consider- wiiiiam, ation as the possessor of a splendid fortune, Prince of as the chief of one of the most illustrious range. houscs iu Europe, as a magnate of the Ger- man Empire, as a prince of the blood royal of England, and, above all, as the descendant of the founders of Batavian liberty. But the high oflEice which had once been considered as hereditary in his family remained iu abeyance ; and the intention of the aristocratical party was that there should never be another stadtholder. The want of a first magistrate was, to a great extent, supplied by the Grand Pensionar}- of the Province of Holland, John de Witt, whose abilities, firmness, and integrity had raised him to unrivalled authority in the councils of the municipal oligarchy. The French invasion produced a complete change. The suffering and terrified people raged fiercely against the government. In their madness they attacked the bravest captains and the ablest statesmen of the dis- tressed commonwealth. De Ruyter was insulted by the rabble. De Witt was torn iu pieces before the gate of the palace of the States-general at the Hague. The Prince of Orange, who had no share in the guilt of the murder, but who, on this occasion, as on another lamentable occasion twenty years later, extended to crimes perpetrated in his cause an indulgence which has left a stain on his glory, became chief of the gov- ernment without a rival. Young as he was, his ardent and unconquerable spirit, though disguised by a cold and sullen manner, soon roused the courage of his dis- mayed countrymen. It was in vain that both his uncle and the French King attempted, by splendid offers, to 252 History of England seduce him from the cause of the republic. To the States-general he spoke a high and inspiriting language. He even ventured to suggest a scheme which has an aspect of antique heroism, and which, if it had been accomplished, would have been the noblest subject for epic song that is to be found in the whole compass of modern history. He told the deputies that, even if their natal soil and the marvels with which human in- dustry had covered it were buried under the ocean, all was not lost. The Hollanders might survive Holland. Liberty and pure religion, driven by tyrants and bigots from Europe, might take refuge in the farthest isles of Asia. The shipping in the ports of the republic would suffice to carry two hundred thousand emigrants to the Indian Archipelago. There the Dutch common- wealth might commence a new and more glorious ex- istence, and might rear, under the Southern Cross, amidst the sugar-canes and nutmeg-trees, the exchange of a wealthier Amsterdam, and the schools of a more learned Leyden. The national spirit swelled and rose high. The terms offered b}^ the allies were firmly re- jected. The dikes were opened. The whole country was turned into one great lake, from which the cities, with their ramparts and steeples, rose like islands. The invaders were forced to save themselves from de- struction by a precipitate retreat. Lewis, who, though he sometimes thought it necessary to appear at the head of his troops, greatly preferred a palace to a camp, had already returned to enjoy the adulation of poets and the smiles of ladies in the newly planted alleys of Versailles. And now the tide turned fast. The event of the maritime war had been doubtful : by land the United Under Charles the Second 253 Provinces had obtained a respite; and a respite, though short, was of infinite importance. Alarmed by the vast designs of Lewis, both the branches of the great House of Austria sprang to arms. Spain and Holland, divided by the memon^ of ancient wrongs and humiliations, were reconciled by the nearness of the common danger. From every part of Germany troops poured toward the Rhine. The English government had already expended all the funds which had been obtained by pillaging the public creditor. No loan could be expected from the City. An attempt to raise taxes b}- the royal authority would have at once produced a rebellion ; and Lewis, who had now to maintain a contest against half Europe, was in no con- dition to furnish the means of coercing the people of England. It was necessary to convoke the Parliament. In the spring of 1673, therefore, the Houses re- assembled after a recess of near two years. Clifford, .. ^. , now a peer and Lord Treasurer, and Ashlev, Meeting of f -^ ' - ' the Pariia- now Earl of Shaftcsbury and Lord Chancel- "^^"^' lor, were the persons on whom the King principally relied as parliamentary managers. The Country party instantly began to attack the policy of the Cabal. The attack was made, not in the way of storm, but by slow and scientific approaches. The Commons at first held out hopes that they would give support to the King's foreign policy, but insisted that he should purchase that support by abandoning his whole system of domestic policy. Their chief object was to obtain the revocation of the Declaration of In- T. , ,. dulgence. Of all the many unpopular steps Declaration •-' ^ i x ^ ofinduig- taken by the government, the most unpopu- *""• lar was the publishing of this Declaration. The most opposite sentiments had been shocked by an 254 History of England act so liberal, done in a manner so despotic. All the enemies of religious freedom and all the friends of civil freedom, found themselves on the same side ; and these two classes made up nineteen-twentieths of the nation. The zealous Churchman exclaimed against the favor which had been shown both to the Papist and to the Puritan. The Puritan, though he might rejoice in the suspension of the persecution by which he had been harassed, felt little gratitude for a tolera- tion which he was to share with Antichrist. And all Englishmen who valued liberty and law saw with un- easiness the deep inroad which the prerogative had made into the province of the legislature. It must in candor be admitted that the constitutional question was then not quite free from obscurity. Our ancient kings had undoubtedly claimed and exercised the right of suspending the operation of penal laws. The tribunals had recognized that right. Parliaments had suffered it to pass unchallenged. That some such right was inherent in the crown, few even of the Country party ventured, in the face of precedent and authority, to deny. Yet it was clear that, if this pre- rogative were without limit, the English government could scarcely be distinguished from a pure despotism. That there was a limit was fully admitted by the King and his ministers. Whether the Declaration of In- dulgence lay within or without the limit was the ques- tion ; and neither party could succeed in tracing any line which would bear examination. Some opponents of the government complained that the Declaration suspended not less thap forty statutes. But why not forty as well as one ? There was an orator who gave it as his opinion that the King might constitutionally Under Charles the Second 255 dispense with bad laws, but not with good laws. The absurdity of such a distinction it is needless to expose. The doctrine which seems to have been generally re- ceived in the House of Commons was, that the dis- pensing power was confined to secular matters, and did not extend to laws enacted for the security of the established religion. Yet, as the King was supreme head of the Church, it should seem that, if he possessed the dispensing power at all, he might well possess that power where the Church was concerned. When the courtiers on the other side attempted to point out the bounds of this prerogative, they were not more success- ful than the Opposition had been. The truth is that the dispensing power was a great anomaly in politics. It was utterly inconsistent in theory with the principles of mixed government : but it had grown up in times when people troubled themselves little about theories." It had not been very grossly abused in practice. It had, therefore, been tolerated, and had gradually acquired a kind of prescription. At length it was employed, after a long interval, in an enlightened age, and at an important conjuncture, to an extent never before known, and for a purpose gen- erally abhorred. It was instantly subjected to a severe scrutiny. Men did not, indeed, at first, venture to pronounce it altogether unconstitutional. But they began to perceive that it w\as at direct variance with the spirit of the constitution, and would, if left un- checked, turn the English government from a limited into an absolute monarch3^ ' The most sensible thing said in the House of Commons, on this subject, came from Sir William Coventry : " Our ancestors never did drav? a line to circumscribe prerogative and liberty." 256 History of England Under the influence of such apprehensions, the Com- mons denied the King's right to dispense, not indeed with all penal statutes, but with penal It is can- . , . . , , celled, and statutcs m matters ecclesiastical, and gave the Test Act jiim plainly to understand that, unless he renounced that right, they would grant no supply for the Dutch war. He, for a moment, showed some inclination to put everything to hazard ; but he was strongly advised by Lewis to submit to necessity, and to wait for better times, when the French armies, now employed in an arduous struggle on the Conti- nent, might be available for the purpose of suppressing discontent in England. In the Cabal itself the signs of disunion and treachery began to appear. Shaftes- bury, with his proverbial sagacity, saw that a violent reaction was at hand, and that all things were tending toward a crisis resembling that of 1640. He was de- termined that such a crisis should not find him in the situation of Strafford. He therefore turned suddenly round, and acknowledged, in the House of Lords, that the Declaration was illegal. The King, thus deserted by his ally and by his chancellor, yielded, cancelled the Declaration, and solemnly promised that it should never be drawn into precedent. Even this concession was insufficient. The Com- mons, not content with having forced their sovereign to annul the Indulgence, next extorted his unwilling assent to a celebrated law, which continued in force down to the reign of George the Fourth. This law, known as the Test Act, provided that all persons hold- ing any office, civil or militarv, should take the oath of supremacy, should subscribe a declaration against transubstantiation, and should publicly receive the Under Charles the Second 257 sacrament according to the rites of the Church of Eng- land. The preamble expressed hostility onl}' to the Papists : but the enacting clauses were scared}' more unfavorable to the Papists than to the rigid Puritans. The Puritans, however, terrified at the e\'iclent leaning of the court toward Popery, and encouraged by some churchmen to hope that, as soon as the Roman Catholics should have been effectually disarmed, relief would be extended to Protestant Non-conformists, made little opposition ; nor could the King, who was in extreme want of mone}', venture to withhold his sanction. The act was passed ; and the Duke of York was conse- quentlv under the necessit}' of resigning the great place of Lord High Admiral. Hitherto the Commons had not declared against the Dutch war. But, when the King had, in return for money cautiously doled out, relinquished The Cabal j^-^ ^yj^Qjg p^j^j^ Qf douiestic policy, thcv fell dissolved. '- '■ ^ ' impetuously on his foreign policy. They requested him to dismiss Buckingham and Lauderdale from his councils forever, and appointed a committee to consider the propriety of impeaching Arlington. In a .short time the Cabal was no more. Clifford, who, alone of the five, had any claim to be regarded as an honest man, refused to take the new test, laid down his white staff, and retired to his country-seat. Arlington quitted the post of Secretary of State for a quiet and dignified employment in the royal household. vShaftes- bury and Buckingham made their peace with the Oppo- sition, and appeared at the head of the stormy democ- racy of the city. Lauderdale, however, still continued to be minister for Scotch affairs, with which the Eng- Hsh Parliament could not interfere. VOL. 1 T? 25S History of England And now the Commons urged the King to make peace with Holland, and expressly declared that no more supplies should be granted for the war, unless it should appear that the enemy obstinately refused to consent to reasonable terms. Charles found it neces- sary to postpone to a more convenient season all thought of executing the treaty of Dover, and to cajole the nation by pretending to return to the policy of the Peace with I'riple Alliauce. Temple, who, during the the United asccndeucy of the Cabal, had lived in seclu- Provinces. ^^^^^ auioug liis books and flower-beds, was called forth from his hermitage. By his instrumen- tality, a separate peace was concluded with the United Provinces ; and he again became ambassador at the Hague, where his presence was regarded as a sure pledge for the sincerit}^ of his court. The chief direction of affairs was now intrusted to Sir Thomas Osborne, a Yorkshire baronet, who had, in . , . . ^ the House of Connnons, shown eminent Administra- ' tion of talents for business and debate. Osborne be- ^^"^y- came Lord Treasurer, and was soon created Earl of Dan1)y. He was not a man whose character, if tried by any high standard of moralit}^ would appear to merit approbation. He was greedy of wealth and honors, corrupt himself, and a corrupter of others. The Cabal had bequeathed to him the art of bribing parliaments, an art still rude, and giving little promise of the rare perfection to which it was brought in the following century. He improved greatly on the plan of the first inventors. They had merely purchased orators ; but every man who had a vote might sell him- self to Danby. Yet the new minister must not be confounded with the neo:otiators of Dover. He was Under Charles the Second 259 not without the feelings of an Englishman and a Protestant ; nor did he, in his solicitude for his own interests, ever wholly forget the interests of his country and of his religion. He was desirous, indeed, to exalt the prerogative ; but the means b)- which he proposed to exalt it were widely different from those which had been contemplated by Arlington and Clifford. The thought of establishing arbitrary power, b}- calling in the aid of foreign arms, and by reducing the kingdom to the rank of a dependent principalit\', never entered into his mind. His plan was to rally round the mon- archy those classes which had been the firm allies of the monarchy during the troubles of the preceding- generation, and which had been disgusted b}- the re- cent crimes and errors of the court. With the help of the old Cavalier interest, of the nobles, of the countr}- gentlemen, of the clergy, and of the Universities, it might, he conceived, be possible to make Charles, not indeed an absolute sovereign, but a sovereign scarcely less powerful than Elizabeth had been. Prompted b}^ these feelings, Danb}' formed the design of securing to the Cavalier part}' the exclusive posses- sion of all political power, both executive and legisla- tive. In the year 1675, accordingly, a bill was offered to the Lords which provided that no person should hold any office, or should sit in either House of Parlia- ment, without first declaring on oath that he con.sidered resistance to the kingly power as in all cases criminal, and that he would never endeavor to alter the govern- ment either in Church or State. During several weeks the debates, divisions, and protests caused by this proposition kept the country in a state of excitement. The Opposition in the house of Lords, headed by two 26o History of England members of the Cabal who were desirous to make their peace with the nation, Buckingham and Shaftesbury, was be3'ond all precedent vehement and pertinacious, and at length proved successful. The bill was not in- deed rejected, but was retarded, mutilated, and at length suffered to drop. So arbitrary and so exclusive was Danby's scheme of domestic policy. His opinions touching foreign policy did him more honor. They were in truth directly opposed to those of the Cabal, and differed little from those of the Country party. He bitterly lamented the degraded situation to which England was reduced, and declared, with more energy than politeness, that his dearest wish was to cudgel the French into a proper respect for her. So little did he disguise his feelings that, at a great banquet where the most illustrious dignitaries of the State and of the Church were assem- bled, he not very decorously filled his glass to the con- fusion of all who were against a w^ar with France. He would indeed most gladly have seen his country united with the powders which were then combined against Lewis, atid w^as for that end bent on placing Temple, the author of the Triple Alliance, at the head of the department w^hich directed foreign affairs. But the power of the Prime Minister was limited. In his most confidential letters he complained that the infatuation of his master prevented England from taking her proper place among European nations. Charles was insatiably greedy of French gold : he had by no means relinquished the hope that he might, at some future day, be able to establish absolute monarchy by the help of the French arms ; and for both reasons he wished to maintain a good understanding with the court of Versailles. Under Charles the Second 261 Thus the sovereign leaned toward one system of foreign politics, and the minister toward a system dia- metrically opposite. Neither the sovereign nor the minister, indeed, was of a temper to pursue any object with undeviating constanc3^ Each occasionally yielded to the importunity of the other ; and their jarring in- clinations and mutual concessions gave to the whole ad- ministration a strangely capricious character. Charles sometimes, from levity and indolence, suffered Danby to take steps which Lewis resented as mortal injuries. Danby, on the other hand, rather than relinquish his great place, sometimes stooped to compliances which caused him bitter pain and shame. The King was brought to consent to a marriage between the lyady Mary, eldest daughter and presumptive heiress of the Duke of York, and William of Orange, the deadly enemy of France, and the hereditary champion of the Reformation. Nay, the brave Earl of Ossory, son of Ormond, was sent to assist the Dutch with some British troops, who, on the most bloody day of the whole war, signally vindicated the national reputation for stubborn courage. The Treasurer, on the other hand, was in- duced, not only to connive at some scandalous pecuniary transactions which took place between his master and the court of Versailles, but to become, unwillingly in- deed and ungraciously, an agent in those transactions. Meanwhile, the Country party was driven by two strong feelings in two opposite directions. The popu- lar leaders were afraid of the greatness of i^rsrtuatfo'n Lewis, who was not only making head of the coun- agaiust the whole strength of the continental try party. alliaucc, but was even gaining ground. Yet they were afraid to intrust their own King with the 262 History of England means of curbing France, lest those means should be used to destroy the liberties of England. The conflict between these apprehensions, both of which were per- fectly legitimate, made the policy of the Opposition seem as eccentric and fickle as that of the court. The Commons called for a war with France, till the King, pressed by Danby to comply with their wish, seemed disposed to yield, and began to raise an army. But, as soon as they saw that the recruiting had commenced, their dread of Lewis gave place to a nearer dread. They began to fear that the new levies might be em- ployed on a service in which Charles took much more interest than in the defence of Flanders, They there- fore refused supplies, and clamored for disbanding as loudly as they had just before clamored for arming. Those historians wdio have severely reprehended this inconsistency do not appear to have made sufficient allowance for the embarrassing situation of subjects who have reason to believe that their prince is con- spiring with a foreign and hostile power against their liberties. To refuse him military resources is to leave the state defenceless. Yet to give him military re- sources may be onl}- to arm him against the state. In such circumstances, vacillation cannot be considered as '1 proof of dishonesty or even of weakness. These jealousies were studiously fomented by the French King. He had long kept England passive by promising to support the throne against the Dealings o Parliament. He now, alarmed at finding that party • * with the that the patriotic counsels of Danby seemed French Hkcly to prcvail in the closet, began to in- embassy, ^ _ ' o flame the Parliament against the throne. Between Lewis and the Country^ party there was one Under Charles the Second 20 thing, and one only, in common — profound distrust of Charles. Could the Country party have been certain that their sovereign meant onh' to make war on France, they would have been eager to support him. Could Lewns have been certain that the new levies were in- tended onl}^ to make war on the constitution of Eng- land, he would have made no attempt to stop them. But the unsteadiness and faithlessness of Charles were such that the French government and the English Op- position, agreeing in nothing else, agreed in disbeliev- ing his protestations, and were equally desirous to keep him poor and without an army. Communications were opened betw^een Barillon, the ambassador of Lewis, and those English politicians who had always professed, and who indeed sincerely felt, the greatest dread and dislike of the French ascendency. Tbe most upright member of the Country party, AVilliam Lord Russell, son of the Earl of Bedford, did not scruple to concert with a foreign mission schemes for embarrassing his own sovereign. This w^as the whole extent of Russell's offence. His principles and his fortune alike raised him above all temptations of a sordid kind ; but there is too much reason to believe that some of his associates were less scrupulous. It w^ould be unjust to impute to them the extreme wickedness of taking bribes to injure their country. On the contrary, they meant to serv^e her : but it is impossible to deny that they were mean and indelicate enough to let a foreign prince pay them for serving her. Among those who cannot be acquitted of this degrading charge was one man w^ho is popularly considered as the personification of public spirit, and who, in spite of some great moral and intellectual faults, has a just claim to be called a hero, a philosopher, and 264 History of England a patriot. It is impossible to see without pain such a name in the list of the pensioners of France. Yet it is some consolation to reflect that, in our time, a public man would be thought lost to all sense of duty and of shame who should not spurn from him a temptation which conquered the virtue and the pride of Algernon Sidne3^ The effect of these intrigues was that England, though she occasionally took a menacing attitude, re- mained inactive till the continental war, eaceo 1- j^g^yjj^pr lasted near seven years, was termi- meguen. <=■ -' ' nated by the treaty of Nimeguen. The United Provinces, which in 1672 had seemed to be on the verge of utter ruin obtained honorable and advan- tageous terms. This narrow escape w^as generally ascribed to the ability and courage of the young Stadt- holder. His fame w^as great throughout Europe, and especially among the English, who regarded him as one of their own princes, and rejoiced to see him the husband of their future queen. France retained many important towns in the Low Countries and the great province of Franche Comte. Almost the whole loss was borne by the decaying monarchy of Spain. A few months after the termination of hostilities on the Continent came a great crisis in English politics. ,,. , ^ ,. Toward such a crisis things had been tend- Violent dis- ^ contents in iug duriug eighteen years. The w^hole stock England. ^^ popularity, great as it was, with which the King had commenced his administration, had long been expended. To loyal enthusiasm had succeeded profound disaffection. The public mind had now measured back again the space over which it had passed between 1640 and 1660, and was once more in Under Charles the Second 265 the state in which it had been when the Long ParUa- ment met. The prevaiUng discontent was compounded of many feehngs. One of these was wounded national pride. That generation had seen England, during a few years, allied on equal terms with France, victorious over Holland and Spain, the mistress of the sea, the terror of Rome, the head of the Protestant interest. Her re- sources had not diminished ; and it might have been expected that she would have been at least as highly considered in Europe under a legitimate king, strong in the affection and willing obedience of his subjects, as she had been under a usurper whose utmost vigilance and energy were required to keep down a mutinous people. Yet she had, in consequence of the imbecilit}^ and meanness of her rulers, sunk so low that any Ger- man or Italian principalit}' which brought five thou- sand men into the field was a more important member of the commonwealth of nations. With the sense of national humiliation was mingled anxiety for civil liberty. Rumors, indistinct, indeed, but perhaps the more alarming by reason of their in- distinctness, imputed to the court a deliberate design against all the constitutional rights of Englishmen. It had even been whispered that this design was to be carried into effect by the intervention of foreign arms. The thought of such intervention made the blood, even of the Cavaliers, boil in their veins. Some who had always professed the doctrine of non-resistance in its full extent were now heard to mutter that there was one limitation to that doctrine. If a foreign force were brought over to coerce the nation, they would not an- swer for their own patience. 266 History of England But neither national pride nor anxiety for public liberty had so great an influence on the popular mind as hatred of the Roman Catholic religion. That hatred had become one of the ruling passions of the com- munit}^ and was as strong in the ignorant and profane as in those who were Protestants from conviction. The cruelties of Mary's reign, cruelties which, even in the most accurate and sober narrative, excite just detesta- tion, and which were neither accurately nor soberly related in the popular martyrologies, the conspiracies against Elizabeth, and above all the Gunpowder Plot, had left in the minds of the vulgar a deep and bitter feeling, which was kept up by annual commemorations, prayers, bonfires, and processions. It should be added that those classes which were peculiarly distinguished b}' attachment to the throne, the clergy and the landed gentry, had peculiar reasons for regarding the Church of Rome with aversion. The Clergy trembled for their benefices, the landed gentry for their abbeys and great tithes. While the memor}' of the reign of the Saints was still recent, hatred of Popery had in some degree given place to hatred of Puritanism ; but, during the eighteen years which had elapsed since the Restoration, the hatred of Puritanism had abated, and the hatred of Popery had increased. The stipulations of the treaty of Dover were accurately known to very few ; but some hints had got abroad. The general impression was that a great blow was about to be aimed at the Protestant religion. The King was suspected by many of a lean- ing toward Rome. His brother and heir presumptive was known to be a bigoted Roman Catholic. The first Duchess of York had died a Roman Catholic. James had then, in defiance of the remonstrances of the House Under Charles the Second 267 of Commons, taken to wife the Princess Mar}- of Modena, another Roman Catholic. If there should be sons by this marriage, there was reason to fear that they might be bred Roman Catholics, and that a long succession of princes hostile to the established faith might sit on the English throne. The constitution had recently been violated for the purpose of protecting the Roman Catholics from the penal law^s. The ally by whom the policy of England had, during many years, been chiefly governed was not only a Roman Catholic, but a persecutor of the reformed churches. Under such circumstances it is not strange that the common people should have been inclined to apprehend a return of the times of her whom they called Bloody Mary. Thus the nation was in such a temper that the smallest spark might raise a flame. At this conjunc- ture fire was set in two places at once to the vast mass of combustible matter ; and in a moment the whole was in a blaze. The French court, which knew Danby to be its mor- tal enem}^ artfully contrived to ruin him by making him pass for its friend. Eewis, b}^ the in- Danby strumcntality of Ralph Montague, a faith- less and shameless man who had resided in France as minister from England, laid before the House of Commons proofs that the Treasurer had been con- cerned in an application made by the court of White- hall to the court of Versailles for a sum of money. This discovery produced its natural effect. The Treasurer was, in truth, exposed to the vengeance of Parliament, not on account of his delinquencies, but on account of his merits ; not because he had been an accomplice in 268 History of England a criminal transaction, but because he had been a most unwiUing and unserviceable accomplice. But of the circumstances which have, in the judgment of pos- terity, greatly extenuated his fault, his contemporaries were ignorant. In their view he was the broker who had sold England to France. It seemed clear that his greatness was at an end, and doubtful whether his head could be saved. Yet was the ferment excited by this discovery slight, w^hen compared wdth the commotion w^hich arose when it was noised abroad that a great Popish The Popish pj^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ detected. One Titus Oates, a clergyman of the Church of England, had, by his disorderly life and heterodox doctrine, drawn on himself the censure of his spiritual superiors, had been compelled to quit his benefice, and had ever since led an infamous and vagrant life. He had once professed himself a Roman Catholic, and had passed some time on the Continent in English colleges of the Order of Jesus. In those seminaries he had heard much wild talk about the best means of bringing England back to the true Church. From hints thus furnished he con- structed a hideous romance resembling rather the dream of a sick man than any transaction which ever took place in the real world. The Pope, he said, had intrusted the government of England to the Jesuits. The Jesuits had, by commissions under the seal of their societ}^ appointed Roman Catholic clerg3anen, noble- men, and gentlemen, to all the highest offices in Church and State. The Papists had burned down London once. The}'' had tried to burn it down again. They were at that moment planning a scheme for setting fire to all the shipping in the Thames. They were to rise Under Charles the Second 269 at a signal and massacre all their Protestant neighbors. A French army was at the same time to land in Ire- land. All the leading statesmen and divines of Eng- land were to be murdered. Three or four schemes had been formed for assassinating the King. He was to be stabbed. He was to be poisoned in his medicine. He was to be shot with silver bullets. The public mind was so sore and excitable that these lies readily found credit with the vulgar ; and two events which speedil\' took place led even some reflecting men to suspect that the tale, though evidently distorted and exaggerated, might have some foundation. Edward Coleman, a ver}' busy, and not very honest, Roman Catholic intriguer, had been among the persons accused. Search was made for his papers. It was found that he had just destroyed the greater part of them. But a 'few which had escaped contained some passages such as, to minds strongly prepossessed, might seem to confirm the evidence of Oates. Those passages, indeed, when candidly construed, appear to express little more than the hopes which the posture of affairs, the predilections of Charles, the still stronger predilec- tions of James, and the relations existing between the French and English courts, might naturalh' excite in the mind of a Roman Catholic strongly attached to the interests of his Church. But the countr}- was not then inclined to construe the letters of Papists candidh' ; and it was urged, with some show of reason, that, if papers which had been passed over as unimportant were filled with matters so suspicious, some great mystery of iniquity must have been contained in those docu- ments which had been carefully committed to the flames. 270 History of England A few da^^s later it was known that Sir Edmondsbury Godfre}' , an eminent justice of the peace who had taken the depositions of Oates against Coleman, had disap- peared. Search was made, and Godfrey's corpse was found in a field near London. It was clear that he had died by violence. It was equally clear that he had not been set upon by robbers. His fate is to this day a secret. Some think that he perished by his own hand ; some, that he was slain b}^ a private enem}'. The most improbable supposition is that he was mur- dered b}^ the part}^ hostile to the court, in order to give color to the story of the plot. The most probable sup- position seems, on the whole, to be that some hot- headed Roman Catholic, driven to frenzy by the lies of Oates and by the insults of the multitude, and not nicely distinguishing between the perjured accuser and the innocent magistrate, had taken a revenge of which the history of persecuted sects furnishes but too many examples. If this were so, the assassin must have afterward bitterly execrated his own wickedness and folly. The capital and the whole nation went mad with hatred and fear. The penal laws, which had begun to lose something of their edge, were sharpened anew. Everywhere justices were busied in searching houses and seizing papers. All the jails were filled with Papists. London had the aspect of a city in a state of siege. The trainbands were under arms all night. Preparations were made for barricading the great thor- oughfares. Patrols marched up and down the streets. Cannon were planted round Whitehall. No citizen thought himself safe unless he carried under his coat a small flail loaded with lead to brain the Popish assas- sins. The corpse of the murdered magistrate was ex- unaer L^narles the !Second 271 hibited during several days to the gaze of great multi- tudes, and was then committed to the grave with strange and terrible ceremonies, which indicated rather fear and the thirst of vengeance than sorrow or religious hope. The Houses insisted that a guard should be placed in the vaults over which they sat, in order to secure them against a second Gunpowder Plot. All their proceedings were of a piece with this demand. Ever since the reign of Elizabeth the oath of supremacy had been exacted from members of the House of Com- mons. Some Roman Catholics, however, had contrived so to interpret this oath that they could take it without scruple. A more stringent test was now added : every Member of Parliament was required to make the Declara- tion against Transubstantiation ; and thus the Roman Catholic Lords were for the first time excluded from their seats. Strong resolutions were adopted against the Queen. The Commons threw one of the secretaries of state into prison for having countersigned commis- sions directed to gentlemen who were not good Protest- ants. They impeached the Lord Treasurer of high- treason. Nay, they so far forgot the doctrine which, while the memory- of the civil war was still recent, the}^ had loudly professed, that they even attempted to wrest the command of the militia out of the King's hands. To such a temper had eighteen years of misgovernment brought the most loyal Parliament that had ever met in England. Yet it may seem strange that, even in that ex- tremity, the King should have ventured to appeal to the people ; for the people were more excited than their representatives. The Lower House, discontented as it was, contained a larger number of Cavaliers than were ^7^ History of England likely to find seats again. But it was thought that a dissolution would put a stop to the prosecution of the Lord Treasurer, a prosecution which might probably bring to light all the guilty mysteries of the French alliance, and might thus cause extreme personal an- noyance and embarrassment to Charles. Accordingly, in January, 1679, the Parliament, which had been in existence ever since the beginning of the year 1661, was dissolved ; and writs were issued for a general election. During some weeks the contention over the whole country was fierce and obstinate beyond example. „. , , Unprecedented sums were expended. New First general ^ ^ election of tactics wcrc employed. It was remarked by ^^^^' the pamphleteers of that time as something extraordinary that horses were hired at a great charge for the conveyance of electors. The practice of splitting freeholds for the purpose of multiplying votes dates from this memorable struggle. Dissenting preachers, who had long hidden themselves in quiet nooks from persecution, now emerged from their retreats, and rode from village to village, for the purpose of rekindling the zeal of the scattered people of God. The tide ran strong against the government. Most of the new members came up to Westminster in a mood little differing from that of their predecessors who had sent Strafford and Laud to the Tower. Meanwhile the courts of ju.stice, which ought to be, in the midst of political commotions, sure places of refuge for the innocent of ever}^ party, were disgraced by wilder passions and fouler corruptions than were to be found even on the hustings. The tale of Gates, though it had sufficed to convulse the whole realm, Under Charles the Second 273 would not, unless confirmed by other evidence, suffice to destroy the humblest of those whom he had accused. For, by the old law of England, two witnesses are necessary to establish a charge of treason. But the success of the first impostor produced its natural conse- quences. In a few weeks he had been raised from penur}' and obscurity to opulence, to power which made him the dread of princes and nobles, and to notoriety such as has for low and bad minds all the attractions of glory. He was not long without coad- jutors and rivals. A wretch named Carstairs, who had earned a livelihood in Scotland by going disguised to conventicles and then informing against the preachers, led the way. Bedloe, a noted swindler, followed ; and soon, from all the brothels, gambling- houses, and spunging-houses of London, false witnesses poured forth to swt;ar away the lives of Roman Catho- lics. One came with a story about an ami}- of thirty thousand men who were to muster in the disguise of pil- grims at Corunna, and to sail thence to Wales. Another had been promised canonization and five hundred pounds to murder the King. A third had stepped into an eating-house in Covent Garden, and had there heard a great Roman Catholic banker vow, in the hearing of all the guests and drawers, to kill the heretical tvrant. Oates, that he might not be eclipsed by his imitators, soon added a large supplement to his original narrative. He had the portentous impudence to affirm, among other things, that he had once stood behind a door which was ajar, and had there overheard the Queen declare that she had resolved to give her consent to the assassination of her luisband. The vulgar believed, and the highest magistrates pretended to believe, even \OL. 1—18 2/4 History of England such fictions as these. The chief judges of the realm were corrupt, cruel, and timid. The leaders of the Country party encouraged the prevailing delusion. The most respectable among them, indeed, were them- selves so far deluded as to believe the greater part of the evidence of the plot to be true. Such men as Shaftesbur}- and Buckingham doubtless perceived that the whole was a romance. But it was a romance which served their turn ; and to their seared consciences the death of an innocent man gave no more uneasiness than the death of a partridge. The juries partook of the feelings then common throughout the nation, and were encouraged by the bench to indulge those feelings with- out restraint. The multitude applauded Gates and his confederates, hooted and pelted the witnesses who appeared on behalf of the accused, and shouted with joy when the verdict of guilty was pronounced. It was in vain that the sufferers appealed to the respecta- bility of their past lives : for the public mind was pos- sessed with a belief that the more conscientious a Papist was, the more likely he must be to plot against a Prot- estant government. It was in vain that, just before the cart passed from under their feet, they resolutely affirmed their innocence : for the general opinion was that a good Papist considered all lies which were serviceable to his Church as not only excusable, but meritorious. While innocent blood was shedding under the forms of justice, the new Parliament met ; and such was the violence of the predominant party that even Violence of , •, i -, , , the new iT^^^ii wliose youtli had been passed amidst House of revolutions, men who remembered the at- tainder of Strafford, the attempt on the five members, the abolition of the House of Lords, the exe- Under Charles the Second 275 cutiou of the King, stood aghast at the aspect of pubUc afifairs. The impeachment of Danby was resumed. He pleaded the royal pardon. But the Commons treated the plea with contempt, and insisted that the trial should proceed. Danby, however, was not their chief object. They were convinced that the only effectual way of securing the liberties and religion of the nation was to exclude the Duke of York from the throne. The King was in great perplexity. He had insisted that his brother, the sight of whom inflamed the popu- lace to madness, should retire for a time to Brussels : but this concession did not seem to have produced any favorable effect. The Roundhead party was now de- cidedly- predominant. Toward that party leaned mil- lions who had, at the time of the Restoration, leaned toward the side of prerogative. Of the old Cavaliers many participated in the prevailing fear of Popery, and man}', bitterly resenting the ingratitude of the prince for whom the}- had sacrificed so much, looked on his distress as carelessly as he had looked on theirs. Even the Anglican clergy, mortified and alarmed b}- the apostasy of the Duke of York, so far countenanced the opposition as to join cordially in the outcry against the Roman Catholics. The King in this extremity had recourse to Sir William Temple. Of all the official men of that age Tern le's Temple had preserved the fairest character, plan of gov- The Triple Alliance had been his work. ernment. jj^ ^^^ rcfuscd to take an>' part in the politics of the Cabal, and had, while that administra- tion directed affairs, lived in strict privacy. He had quitted his retreat at the call of Danby, had made peace between England and Holland, and had borne a chief 276 History of England part in bringing about the marriage of the Lady Mary to her cousin the Prince of Orange. Thus he had the credit of every one of the few good things which had been done by the government since the Restoration. Of the numerous crimes and blunders of the last eigh- teen years none could be imputed to him. His private life, though not austere, was decorous ; his manners were popular ; and he was not to be corrupted either by titles or by money. Something, however, was want- ing to the character of this respectable statesman. The temperature of his patriotism was lukewarm. He prized his ease and his personal dignity too much, and shrank from responsibility with a pusillanimous fear. Nor in- deed had his habits fitted him to bear a part in the con- flicts of our domestic factions. He had reached his fiftieth year without having sat in the English Parlia- ment ; and his official experience had been almost entirely acquired at foreign courts. He was justly esteemed one of the first diplomatists in Europe : but the talents and accomplishments of a diplomati.st are widely different from those which qualify a politician to lead the House of Commons in agitated times. The scheme which he proposed showed considerable ingenuity. Though not a profound philo.sopher, he had thonght more than most busy men of the world on the general principles of government ; and his mind had been enlarged by historical studies and foreign travel. He seems to have discerned more clearly than most of his contemporaries one cause of the difficulties by which the government was beset. The character of the English polity was gradually changing. The Parliament was slowly, but constantly, gaining ground on the prerogative. The line between the legislative Under Charles the Second 277 and executive power was in theory as strongly marked as ever, but in practice was daily becoming fainter and fainter. The theory of the constitution was that the King might name his own ministers. But the House of Commons had driven Clarendon, the Cabal, and Danby successively from the direction of affairs. The theory of the constitution was that the King alone had the power of making peace and war. But the House of Commons had forced him to make peace with Hol- land, and had all but forced him to make war with France. The theory of the constitution was that the King was the sole judge of the cases in which it might be proper to pardon offenders. Yet he was .so much in dread of the House of Commons that, at that moment, he could not venture to rescue from the gallows men whom he well knew to be the innocent victims of perjur3\ Temple, it should seem, was desirous to secure to the legislature its undoubted constitutional powers, and yet to prevent it, if possible, from encroaching further on the province of the executive administration. Witli this view^ he determined to interpose between the sov- ereign and the Parliament a body which might break the shock of their collision. There was a body, an- cient, highly honorable, and recognized by the law, which, he thought, might be so remodelled as to serve this purpose. He determined to give to the Privy Council a new^ character and office in the government. The number of councillors he fixed at thirty. Fif- teen of them were to be the chief ministers of state, of law, and of religion. The other fifteen were to be un- placed noblemen and gentlemen of ample fortune and high character. There was to be no interior cabinet. 27S History of England All the thirty were to be intrusted with every political secret, and summoued to every meeting ; and the King was to declare that he w^ould, on every occasion, be guided by their advice. Temple seems to have thought that, by this con- trivance, he could at once secure the nation against the tyranny of the crown, and the crown against the encroachments of the Parliament. It was, on one hand, highly improbable that schemes such as had been formed by the Cabal would be even propounded for dis- cussion in an assembly consisting of thirty eminent men, fifteen of whom were bound by no tie of interest to the court. On the other hand, it might be hoped that the Commons, content with the guarantee against misgovernment which such a privy council furnished, would confine themselv^es more than they had of late done to their strictly legislative functions, and would no longer think it necessar}^ to pr}^ into ever}^ part of the executive administration. This plan, though in some respects not unworthy of the abilities of its author, was in principle vicious. The new board was half a cabinet and half a parlia- ment, and, like almost everj^ other contrivance, whether mechanical or political, which is meant to serve two purposes altogether different, failed of accomplishing either. It was too large and too divided to be a good administrative body. It was too closely connected with the crown to be a good checking body. It contained just enough of popular ingredients to make it a bad council of state, unfit for the keeping of secrets, for the conducting of delicate negotiations, and for the admin- istration of war. Yet were these popular ingredients by no means sufiicient to secure the nation against Under Charles the Second 279 misgovemment. The plan, therefore, even if it had been fairly tried, could scarcely have succeeded ; and it was not fairly tried. The King was fickle and perfidi- ous : the ParHament was excited and unreasonable; and the materials out of which the new Council was made, though perhaps the best which that age afforded, were still bad. The commencement of the new s>'stem was, however, hailed with general delight ; for the people were in a temper to think any change an improvement. They were also pleased by some of the new nominations. Shaftesbury, now their fa\'orite, was appointed I^ord President. Russell and some other distinguished mem- bers of the Country party were sworn of the Council. But a few da^'s later all was again in confusion. The inconveniences of having so numerous a cabinet were such that Temple himself consented to infringe one of the fundamental rules which he had laid down, and to become one of a .small knot which really di- rected everything. With him were joined three other ministers, Arthur Capel, Earl of Essex, George Savile, Viscount Halifax, and Robert Spencer, Earl of Sunder- land. Of the Earl of Essex, then First Commissioner of the Treasury, it is sufficient to say that he was a man of solid though not brilliant parts, and of grave and melancholy character, that he had been connected with the Country party, and that he was at this time honest- ly desirous to effect, on terms beneficial to the state, a reconciliation between that party and the throne. Among the statesmen of those times Halifax was, in genius, the first. His intellect w^as fertile, subtle, and capacious. His polished, luminous, and animated elo- 28o History of England quence, set off by the silver tones of his voice, was the delight of the House of Lords. His conv^ersa- tion overflowed with thought, fancy, and Character of ^-^ ^-^^ political tracts wcll descrvc to be Halifax, ^ studied for their literary merit, and fully entitle him to a place among English classics. To the weight derived from talents so great and various he united all the influence which belongs to rank and ample possessions. Yet he was less successful in poli- tics than many who enjoyed smaller advantages. In- deed, those intellectual peculiarities which make his writings valuable frequently impeded him in the con- tests of active life. For he always saw passing events, not in the point of view in which they commonly appear to one who bears a part in them, but in the point of view in which, after the lapse of mau}^ j^ears, they ap- pear to the philosophic historian. With such a turn of mind, he could not long continue to act cordially with any body of men. All the prejudices, all the exagger- ations, of both the great parties in the state moved his scorn. He despised the mean arts and unreasonable clamors of demagogues. He despised still more the doctrines of divine right and passive obedience. He sneered impartially at the bigotry of the Churchman and at the bigotry of the Puritan. He was equally unable to comprehend how any man should object to Saints* days and surplices, and how an}' man should persecute an}' other man for objecting to them. In temper he was what, in our time, is called a Conserva- tive : in theory he was a Republican. Even when his dread of anarchy and his disdain for vulgar delusions led him to side for a time with the defenders of arbi- trary power, his intellect was always with Locke and Under Charles the Second 281 Milton. Indeed, his jests upon hereditary monarchy were sometimes such as would have better become a member of the Calf's Head Club than a priv>' council- lor of the Stuarts. In religion he was so far from being a zealot that he was called by the uncharitable an atheist : but this imputation he vehemently repelled ; and in truth, though he sometimes gave scandal by the wa\' in which he exerted his rare powers both of reason- ing and of ridicule on serious subjects, he seems to have been by no means unsusceptible of religious impressions. He was the chief of those politicians whom the two great parties contemptuousl}^ called Trimmers. In- stead of quarrelling with this nickname, he assumed it as a title of honor, and vindicated, with great vivacity, the dignity of the appellation. Everything good, he said, trims between extremes. The temperate zone trims between the climate in which men are roasted and the climate in which they are frozen. The Eng- lish Church trims between the Anabaptist madness and the Papist lethargy. The English constitution trims between Turkish despotism and Polish anarchy. Vir- tue is nothing but a just temper between propensities any one of which, if indulged to excess, becomes vice. Nay, the perfection of the Supreme Being himself con- sists in the exact equilibrium of attributes, none of which could preponderate without disturbing the whole moral and physical order of the world.' Thus Halifax was a Trimmer on principle. He was also a Trimmer by the constitution both of his head and of his heart. His understanding w^as keen, skeptical, inexhaustibly ' HaHfax was undoubtedly the real author of The Character of a Trimmer, which, for a time, went under the name of his kinsman, Sir William Coventry. 282 History of England fertile in distinctions and objections ; his taste refined ; his sense of the ludicrous exquisite ; his temper placid and forgiving, but fastidious, and by no means prone either to malevolence or to enthusiastic admiration. Such a man could not long be constant to any band of political allies. He must not, however, be confounded with the vulgar crowd of renegades. For though, like them, he passed from side to side, his transition was always in the direction opposite to theirs. He had nothing in common with those who fly from extreme to extreme, and who regard the party which the}^ have deserted with an animosity far exceeding that of con- sistent enemies. His place was on the debatable ground between the hostile divisions of the community, and he never wandered far beyond the frontier of either. The party to which he at any moment belonged was the part}' which, at that moment, he liked best, because it was the party of which, at that moment, he had the nearest view. He was, therefore, always severe upon his violent associates, and was always in friendl}^ rela- tions with his moderate opponents. Every faction in the da}^ of its insolent and vindictive triumph incurred his censure ; and every faction, when vanquished and persecuted, found in him a protector. To his lasting honor it must be mentioned that he attempted to save those victims whose fate has left the deepest stain both on the Whig and on the Tory name. He had greatl}' distinguished himself in opposition, and had thus drawn on himself the royal displeasure, which was, indeed, so strong that he was not admitted into the Council of Thirt\' without much difficulty and long altercation. As .soon, however, as he had ob- tained a footing at court, the charms of his manner and Under Charles the Second 2S^ of his conversation made him a favorite. He was seriously alarmed b}^ the violence of the public discon- tent. He thought that libert>' was for the present safe, and that order and legitimate authority were in danger. He therefore, as was his fashion, joined himself to the weaker side. Perhaps his conversion was not wholly disinterested. For study and reflection, though they had emancipated him from many vulgar prejudices, had left him a slave to vulgar desires. Money he did not want ; and there is no evidence that he ever ob- tained it by any means which, in that age, even severe censors considered as dishonorable ; but rank and power had strong attractions for him. He pretended, indeed, that he considered titles and great offices as baits which could allure none but fools, that he hated business, pomp, and pageantry, and that his dearest wish was to escape from the bustle and glitter of White- hall to the quiet woods which surrounded his ancient mansion in Nottinghamshire ; but his conduct was not a little at variance with his professions. In truth, he wished to command the respect at once of courtiers and of philosophers ; to be admired for attaining high dig- nities, and to be at the same time admired for despising them. Sunderland was Secretar>^ of State. In this man the political immorality of his age was personified in the most lively manner. Nature had given him Character of ^ ^qqxi Understanding, a restless and mis- Sunderland. ° . chievous temper, a cold heart, and an abject spirit. His mind had undergone a training by which all his vices had been nursed up to the rankest ma- turity. At his entrance into public life, he had passed several years in diplomatic posts abroad, and had been, 284 History of England during some time, minister in France. E\^ery calling has its peculiar temptations. There is no injustice in saying that diplomatists, as a class, have always been more distinguished by their address, b}^ the art with which they win the confidence of those with whom they have to deal, and by the ease with which they catch the tone of every society into which they are admitted, than b}' generous enthusiasm or austere rectitude ; and the relations between Charles and I^ewis were such that no English nobleman could long reside in France as envoy, and retain any patriotic or honorable senti- ment. Sunderland came forth from the bad school in which he had been brought up, cunning, supple, shameless, free from all prejudices, and destitute of all principles. He was, by hereditary connection, a Ca^'alier ; but with the Cavaliers he had nothing in common. They were zealous for monarchy, and con- demned in theor}' all resistance. Yet they had sturd}^ English hearts which would never have endured real despotism. He, on the contrary, had a languid specu- lative liking for republican institutions, which was compatible with perfect readiness to be in practice the most servdle instrument of arbitrary power. lyike many other accomplished flatterers and negotiators, he w^as far more skilful in the art of reading the characters and practising on the weaknesses of individuals than in the art of discerning the feelings of great masses, and of foreseeing the approach of great revolutions. He was adroit in intrigue ; and it was difficult even for shrewd and experienced men who had been amply forewarned of his perfidy to withstand the fascination of his manner, and to refuse credit to his professions of attachment. But he was so intent on observing and Under Charles the Second 285 courting particular persons, that he often forgot to study the temper of the nation. He therefore miscalcu- lated grossl}' with respect to some of the most momen- tous events of his time. More than one important movement and rebound of the public mind took him by- surprise ; and the world, unable to understand how so clever a man could be blind to what was clearly dis- cerned by the politicians of the coffee-houses, some- times attributed to deep design what were in truth mere blunders. It was only in private conference that his eminent abilities displayed themselves. In the royal closet, or in a very small circle, he exercised great influence. But at the Council board he was taciturn ; and in the House of Lords he never opened his lips. The four confidential advisers of the crown soon found that their position was embarrassing and in- vidious. The other members of the Council murnmred at a distinction inconsistent with the King's promises ; and some of them, with Shaftesbury at their head, again betook themselves to strenuous opposition in Parlia- ment. The agitation, which had been suspended by the late changes, speedily became more violent than ever. It was in vain that Charles offered to grant to the Commons any security for the Protestant religion which they could devise, provided only that they would not touch the order of succession. They would hear of no compromise. They would have the Exclusion Bill, and nothing but the Exclusion Bill. The King, there- fore, a few weeks after he had publicly promised to take no step without the advice of his new Council, went down to the House of Lords without mentioning his intention to the Council, and prorogued the Parliament. 286 History of England The day of that prorogation, the twenty-sixth of May, 1679, is a great era in our history. For on that day the Habeas Corpus Act received the Prorogation -^ ^ of the Par- royal assent. From the time of the Great iiament Charter, the substantive law respecting the personal liberty of Englishmen had been nearly the same as at present : but it had been inefficacious for want of a stringent system of procedure. What was needed was not a new right, but a prompt and search- ing remedy ; and such a remedy the Habeas Cot us^Act Corpus Act supplied. The King would gladly have refused his consent to that meas- ure : but he was about to appeal from his Parliament to his people on the question of the succession, and he could not venture, at so critical a moment, to reject a bill which was in the highest degree popular. On the same day, the press of England became for a short time free. In old times printers had been strictly controlled by the Court of Star-chamber. The Long Parliament had abolished the Star-chamber, but had, in spite of the philosophical and eloquent expostulation of Milton, establi.shed and maintained a censorship. Soon after the Restoration, an act had been passed which prohibited the printing of unlicensed books ; and it had been provided that this act should continue in force till the end of the first session of the next Parlia- ment. That moment had now arrived ; and the King, in the very act of dismissing the Houses, emancipated the press. Shortly after the prorogation came a dissolution and another general election. The zeal and strength of the opposition were at the height. The cry for the Ex- clusion Bill was louder than ever ; and with this cry Under Charles the Second :^'^7 was mingled another cry, which fired the blood of the multitude, but which was heard with regret and alarm bv all judicious friends of freedom. Not only Second gen- . j j erai election the riglits of the Dukc of York, an avowed of 1679. Papist, but those of his two daughters, sin- cere and zealous Protestants, were assailed. It was con- fidently affirmed that the eldest natural son of the King had been born in wedlock, and was lawful heir to the crown. Charles, while a wanderer on the Continent, had fal- len in at the Hague with Lucy Walters, a Welsh girl of great beauty, but of weak understanding Popularity of ^^^^ dissolute manners. She became his Monmouth. mistress, and presented him with a son. A suspicious lover might have had his doubts ; for the lady had several admirers, and was not supposed to be cruel to any. Charles, however, readily took her word, and poured forth on little James Crofts, as the boy was then called, an overflowing fondness, such as seemed hardly to belong to that cool and careless nature. Soon after the Restoration, the young favorite, who had learned in France the exercises then considered necessary to a fine gentleman, made his appearance at Whitehall. He was lodged in the palace, attended by pages, and permitted to enjoy several distinctions which had till then been confined to princes of the blood royal. He w^as married, while still in tender youth, to Anne Scott, heiress of the noble house of Buccleuch. He took her name, and received with her hand possession of her ample domains. The estate which he had acquired by this match was popularly estimated at not less than ten thousand pounds a year. Titles, and favors more substantial than titles, were lavished on 288 History of England him. He was made Duke of Monmouth in England, Duke of Buccleuch in Scotland, a Knight of the Garter, Master of the Horse, Commander of the first troop of Life Guards, Chief-justice of Eyre south of Trent, and Chancellor of the University of Cambridge. Nor did he appear to the public unworth}^ of his high fortunes. His countenance was eminently handsome and engag- ing, his temper sweet, his manners polite and affable. Though a libertine, he won the hearts of the Puritans. Though he was known to have been privy to the shameful attack on Sir John Coventry, he easily ob- tained the forgiveness of the Country party. Even austere moralists owned that, in such a court, strict conjugal fidelity was scarcely to be expected from one who, while a child, had been married to another child. Even patriots were willing to excuse a headstrong boy for visiting with immoderate vengeance an insult offered to his father. And soon the stain left by loose amours and midnight brawls was effaced by honorable exploits. When Charles and Lewis united their forces against Holland, Monmouth commanded the English auxiliaries who were sent to the Continent, and ap- proved himself a gallant soldier and a not unintelligent officer. On his return he found himself the most popu- lar man in the kingdom. Nothing w^as withheld from him but the crown ; nor did even the crowm seem to be absolutely beyond his reach. The distinction which had most injudiciously been made between him and the highest nobles had produced evil consequences. When a boy, he had been invited to put on his hat in the presence-chamber, while Howards and Seymours stood uncovered round him. When foreign princes died, he had mourned for them in the long purple cloak, which Under Charles the Second , 289 no other subject, except the Duke of York aud Prince Rupert, was permitted to wear. It was natural that these things should lead him to regard himself as a legitimate prince of the House of Stuart. Charles, even at a ripe age, was devoted to his pleasures and regardless of his dignity. It could hardU' be thought incredible that he should have at twenty secretly goue through the form of espousing a lady whose beauty had fascinated him. While Monmouth was still a child, and while the Duke of York still passed for a Prot- estant, it was rumored throughout the countr}', and even in circles which ought to have been well-informed, that the King had made Lucy Walters his wife, and that, if ever\^ one had his right, her son would be Prince of Wales. Much was said of a certain black box which, according to the vulgar belief, contained the contract of marriage. When r^Ionmouth had re- turned from the Low Countries with a high character for valor and conduct, and when the Duke of York was known to be a member of a Church detested by the great majority of the nation, this idle story became im- portant. For it there was not the slightest evidence. Asrainst it there was the solemn asseveration of the King, made before his Council, and by his order com- municated to his people. But the multitude, always fond of romantic adventures, drank in eagerly the tale of the secret espousals and the black box. Some chiefs of the Opposition acted on this occasion as they acted with respect to the more odious fable of Gates, and countenanced a story which they must have despised. The interest which the populace took in him whom they regarded as the champion of the true religion, and the rightful heir of the British throne, was kept up by VOL. I. — 19 290 History of England every artifice. When Monmouth arrived in IvOndon at midnight, the watchmen were ordered by the magis- trates to proclaim the jo3'ful event through the streets of the City ; the people left their beds ; bonfires were lighted ; the windows were illuminated ; the churches were opened ; and a merry peal rose from all the steeples. When he travelled he was everywhere re- ceived with not less pomp, and with far more enthusi- asm, than had been displayed when kings had made progresses through the realm. He was escorted from mansion to mansion by long cavalcades of armed gentlemen and yeomen. Cities poured forth their whole population to receive him. Electors thronged round him, to assure him that their votes were at his disposal. To such a height were his pretensions car- ried, that he not only exhibited on his escutcheon the lions of England and the lilies of France without the baton sinister under which, according to the law of heraldry, they should have been debruised in token of his illegitimate birth, but ventured to touch for the king's evil. At the same time he neglected no art of condescension by which the love of the multitude could be conciliated. He stood godfather to the children of the peasantry, mingled in every rustic sport, wrestled, played at quarter-stafi", and won foot-races in his boots against fleet runners in shoes. It is a curious circumstance that, at two of the great- est conjunctures in our history, the chiefs of the Prot- estant party should have committed the same error, and should by that error have greatly endangered their country and their religion. At the death of Edward the Sixth they set up the Lady Jane, without any show of birthright, in opposition, not only to their enemy Under Charles the Second 291 Mary, but also to Elizabeth, the true hope of England and of the Reformation. Thus the most respectable Protestants, wdth Elizabeth at their head, were forced to make common cause with the Papists. In the same manner, a hundred and thirt}^ years later, a part of the Opposition, by setting up Monmouth as a claimant of the crown, attacked the rights, not only of James, whom they justly regarded as an implacable foe of their faith and their liberties, but also of the Prince and Princess of Orange, who were eminently marked out, both by situation and by personal qualities, as the de- fenders of all free governments and of all reformed churches. The folly of this course speedily became manifest. At present the popularity of Monmouth constituted a great part of the strength of the Opposition. The elections went against the court : the day fixed for the meeting of the Houses drew near ; and it was necessary that the King should determine on some line of con- duct. Those who advised him discerned the first faint signs of a change of public feeling, and hoped that, by merely postponing the conflict, he would be able to secure the victory. He therefore, without even asking the opinion of the Council of the Thirty, resolved to prorogue the new Parliament before it entered on busi- ness. At the same time the Duke of York, who had returned from Brussels, was ordered to retire to Scot- land, and was placed at the head of the administration of that kingdom. Temple's plan of government was now avowedly abandoned and very soon forgotten. The Privy Coun- cil again became what it had been. Shaftesbury and those who were connected with him in politics resigned 292 History of England their seats. Temple himself, as was his wont in un- quiet times, retired to his garden and his library. Essex quitted the board of Treasur}^, and cast in his lot with the Opposition. But Halifax, disgusted and alarmed by the violence of his old associates, and Sunderland, who never quitted place while he could hold it, remained in the King's service. In consequence of the resignations which took place at this conjuncture, the way to greatness was left clear to a new set of aspirants. Two statesmen, who subse- quently rose to the highest eminence which a British subject can reach, soon began to attract a large share of the public attention. These were L-awrence Hyde and Sidney Godolphin. Lawrence Hyde was the second son of the Chan- cellor Clarendon, and was brother of the first Duchess of York. He had excellent parts, which Lawrence |^^^ bccu improvcd by parliamentar}- and diplomatic experience ; but the infirmities of his temper detracted much from the effective strength of his abilities. Negotiator and courtier as he was, he never learned the art of governing or of concealing his emotions. When prosperous, he was insolent and boastful ; when he sustained a check, his undisguised mortification doubled the triumph of his enemies : very slight provocations sufficed to kindle his anger ; and when he was angry he said bitter things which he for- got as soon as he was pacified, but which others re- membered many years. His quickness and penetration would have made him a consummate man of business but for his self-sufficiency and impatience. His writ- ings prove that he had many of the qualities of an orator ; but his irritability prevented him from doing Under Charles the Second 293 himself justice in debate ; for nothing was easier than to goad him into a passion ; and, from the moment when he went into a passion, he was at the mercy of opponents far inferior to him in capacit_v. Unlike most of the leading politicians of that genera- tion, he was a consistent, dogged, and rancorous party man, a Cavalier of the old school, a zealous champion of the Crown and of the Church, and a hater of Repub- licans and Nou-confonnists. He had consequently a great body of personal adherents. The clerg}- espe- cially looked on him as their own man, and extended to his foibles an indulgence of which, to say the truth, he stood in some need : for he drank deep ; and when he was in a rage — and he \'ery often w^as in a rage — he sw^ore like a porter. He now succeeded Essex at the Treasury. It is to be observ^ed that the place of First I^ord of the Treasury had not then the importance and dignity which now belong to it. When there was a Lord Treasurer, that great officer was generally prime minister ; but, when the white staff w^as in commission, the chief commis- sioner hardly ranked so high as a Secretary of State. It was not till the time of Walpole that the First Lord of the Treasury became, under a humbler name, all that the Lord High Treasurer had been. Godolphin had been bred a page at Whitehall, and had early acquired all the flexibility and the self- possession of a veteran courtier. He was GodoThin laboHOus, clear-headcd, and profoundly versed in the details of finance. Every government, therefore, found him a useful servant ; and there was nothing in his opinions or in his charac- ter which could prevent him from sending any govern- 294 History of England ment. " Sidney Godolphin," said Charles, " is never in the way, and never out of the way." This pointed remark goes far to explain Godolphin' s extraordinary success in life. He acted at different times with both the great po- litical parties : but he never shared in the passions of either. Like most men of cautious tempers and pros- perous fortunes, he had a strong disposition to support whatever existed. He disliked revolutions ; and, for the same reason for which he disliked revolutions, he disliked counter-revolutions. His deportment was re- markably grave and reserved : but his personal tastes were low and frivolous ; and most of the time which he could save from public business was spent in racing, card-playing, and cock-fighting. He now sat below Rochester at the Board of Treasury, and distinguished himself there by assiduity and intelligence. Before the new Parliament was suffered to meet for the despatch of business a whole 3'ear elapsed, an eventful year, which has left lasting traces in our manners and language. Never before had political controversy been carried on with so much freedom. Never before had political clubs existed with so elab- orate an organization or so formidable an influence. The one question of the Exclusion occupied the public mind. All the presses and pulpits of the realm took part in the conflict. On one side it was maintained that the constitution and religion of the state could never be secure under a Popish king ; on the other, that the right of James to wear the crown in his turn was derived from God, and could not be annulled, even by the consent of all the branches of the legislature. Every county, ever}^ town, every family, was in agita- Under Charles the Second 295 tion. The civilities and hospitalities of neighborhood were interrupted. The dearest ties of friendship and of blood were sundered. Even schoolboys factions^n werc divided into angr\^ parties ; and the the subject Dukc of York and the Earl of Shaftesbur>' oftheExciu- ^^^ zealous adherents on all the forms of sion Bill. Westminster and Eton. The theatres shook with the roar of the contending factions. Pope Joan was brought on the stage by the zealous Protestants. Pensioned poets filled their prologues and epilogues with eulogies on the King and the Duke. The mal- contents besieged the throne with petitions, demanding that Parliament might be forthwith convened. The loyalists sent up addresses, expressing the utmost al)- horrence of all who presumed to dictate to the sover- eign. The citizens of London assembled by tens of thousands to burn the Pope in effigy. The govern- ment posted cavalry at Temple Bar, and placed ord- nance round Whitehall. In that year our tongue was enriched with two words, IMob and Sham, remarkable memorials of a season of tumult and imposture.' Op- ponents of the court were called Birminghams, Peti- tioners, and Exclusionists. Those who took the King's side were Anti-birminghams, Abhorrers, and Tantivies. These appellations soon became obsolete : but at this time were first heard two nicknames which, Names of Whig and though originally given in insult, were soon '^°^y- assumed with pride, which are still in daily use, which have spread as widely as the English race, and which will last as long as the English literature. It is a curious circumstance that one of these nicknames was of Scotch, and the other of Irish, origin. Both in ' North's Examen, 231, 574. 296 History of England Scotland and in Ireland, misgovernment had called into existence bands of desperate men whose ferocity was heightened b}" religious enthusiasm. In Scotland some of the persecuted Covenanters, driven mad by oppression, had lately murdered the Primate, had taken arms against the government, had obtained some ad- vantages against the King's forces, and had not been put down till Monmouth, at the head of some troops from England, had routed them at Both well Bridge. These zealots were most -numerous among the rustics of the western lowlands, who were vulgarly called Whigs. Thus the appellation of Whig was fastened on the Presb3^terian zealots of Scotland, and was trans- ferred to those English politicians who showed a dis- position to oppose the court, and to treat Protestant Non-conformists with indulgence. The bogs of Ire- land, at the same time, afforded a refuge to Popish out- laws, much resembling those who were afterward known as Whiteboys. These men were then called Tories. The name of Tory was, therefore, given to Englishmen who refused to concur in excluding a Roman Catholic prince from the throne. The rage of the hostile factions would have been sufficiently violent, if it had been left to itself. But it was studiously exasperated by the common enemy of both. Lewis still continued to bribe and flatter both the court and the Opposition. He exhorted Charles to be firm : he exhorted James to raise a civil war in Scot- land : he exhorted the Whigs not to flinch, and to rely with confidence on the protection of France. Through all this agitation a discerning eye might have perceived that the public opinion was gradually changing. The persecution of the Roman Catholics The Battle of Bothwell Bridcre From a drawing by W. Harvey Under Charles the Second 297 went on ; but convictions were no longer matters of course. A new brood of false witnesses, among whom a villain named Dangerfield was the most conspicuous, infested the courts: but the stories of these men, though better constructed than that of Gates, found less credit. Juries were no longer so easy of belief as during the panic which had followed the murder of Godfrey ; and judges who, while the popular frenzy was at the height, had been its most obsequious instruments, now ventured to express some part of what the}^ had from the first thought. At length, in Gctober, 1680, the Parliament met. The Whigs had so great a majority in the Commons that the Exclusion Bill went through all its Meeting of stages without difficulty. The King scarcely the Exciu- knew on what members of his own cabinet sion Bill tie could rcckou. Hyde had been true to his Commons^. Tory opiuious, and had steadily supported the cause of hereditary monarchy. But Godolphin, anxious for quiet, and believing that quiet could be restored onh' by concession, wished the bill to pass. Sunderland, ever false, and ever short-sighted, unable to discern the signs of approaching reaction, and anxious to conciliate the part}- which he believed to be irresistible, determined to vote against the court. The Duchess of Portsmouth implored her royal lover not to rush headlong to destruction. If there were any point on which he had a scruple of conscience or of honor, it was the question of the succession ; but during some days it seemed that he would submit. He wavered, asked what sum the Commons would give him if he yielded, and suffered a negotiation to be opened with the leading Whigs. But a deep mutual 298 History of England distrust which had been many years growing, and which had been carefully nursed by the arts of France, made a treaty impossible. Neither side would place confidence in the other. The whole nation now looked with breathless anxiety to the House of lyords. The assemblage of peers was large. The King himself was present. The debate was long, earnest, and occasion- ally furious. Some hands were laid on the pommels of swords, in a manner which revived the recollection of the stormy parliaments of Edward the Third and Rich- ard the Second. Shaftesbury and Essex were joined „ , . by the treacherous Sunderland. But the Exclusion -' Bill rejected gcuius of Halifax borc down all opposition, by the Lords. Dggerted by his most important colleagues, and opposed to a crowd of able antagonists, he defended the cause of the Duke of York, in a succession of speeches which, man>' years later were remembered as masterpieces of reasoning, of wit, and of eloquence. It is seldom that oratory changes votes. Yet the attesta- tion of contemporaries leaves no doubt that, on this occasion, votes were changed by the oratory of Halifax. The bishops, true to their doctrines, supported the principle of hereditary right, and the bill was rejected by a great majority.' ' A peer who was present has described the effect of Halifax's oratory in words which I will quote, because, though they have been long in print, they are probably known to few even of the most curious and diligent readers of history. " Of powerful eloquence and great parts were the Duke's enemies who did assert the bill ; but a noble lord appeared against it who, that day, in all the force of speech, in reason, in arguments of what could concern the public or the private interests of men, in honor, in conscience, in estate, did outdo himself and every other man ; and in fine his conduct and his Under Charles the Second 299 The party which preponderated in the House of Commons, bitterly mortified by this defeat, found some consolation in shedding the blood of Roman sta"o"rd°" ° Catholics. William Howard, Viscount Stafford, one of the unhappy men who had been accused of a share in the plot, was impeached ; and on the testimony of Oates and of two other false- witnesses, Dugdale and Turberville, was found guilty of high-treason, and suffered death. But the circum- stances of his trial and execution ought to have given a useful warning to the Whig leaders. A large and respectable minority of the House of Lords pronounced the prisoner not guilty. The multitude, which a few months before had received the dying declarations of Oates' s victims with mockery and execrations, now loudly expressed a belief that Stafford was a murdered man. When he with his last breath protested his in- nocence, the cry was, ' ' God bless you, my Lord ! We believe you, m}^ Lord." A judicious observer might easily have predicted that the blood then shed would shortly have blood. The King determined to tr>^ once more the experi- ment of a dissolution. A new Parliament was sum- moned to meet at Oxford in March, 1681. Since the parts were both victorious, and by him all the wit and malice of that party was overthrown." This passage is taken from a memoir of Henry, Earl of Peter- borough, in a volume entitled Succinct Genealogies, by Robert Halstead, fol., 1685. The name of Halstead is fictitious. The real authors were the Earl of Peterborough himself and his chaplain. The book is extremely rare. Only twenty-four copies were printed, two of which are now in the British Mu- seum. Of these two one belonged to George the Fourth, and the other to Mr. Grenville. 300 History of England days of the Plantagenets the Houses had constantly sat at Westminster, except when the plague was raging in the capital : but so extraordinary a con- tion*o7i6^8i^'^ juncture seemed to require extraordinary precautious. If the Parliament were held in its usual place of assembling, the House of Commons might declare itself permanent, and might call for aid on the magistrates and citizens of London. The train- bands might rise to defend Shaftesbury as they had risen forty j^ears before to defend Pym and Hampden. The guards might be overpowered, the palace forced, the King a prisoner in the hands of his mutinous sub- jects. At Oxford there was no such danger. The University was devoted to the crown ; and the gentry of the neighborhood were generally Tories. Here, therefore, the Opposition had more reason than the King to apprehend violence. The elections were sharpl}^ contested. The Whigs still composed a majority of the House of Commons ; but it was plain that the Tor}^ spirit was fast rising throughout the country. It should seem that the saga- cious and versatile Shaftesbury ought to have foreseen the coming change, and to have consented to the com- promise which the court offered ; but he appears to have forgotten his old tactics. Instead of making dis- positions which, in the worst event, would have secured his retreat, he took up a position in which it was neces- sary that he should either conquer or perish. Perhaps his head, strong as it was, had been turned by popu- larity, by success, and by the excitement of conflict. Perhaps he had spurred his party till he could no longer curb it, and was realh^ hurried on headlong by those whom he seemed to guide. Under Charles the Second 301 The eventful day arrived. The meeting at Oxford resembled rather that of a Polish diet than that of an English parliament. The Whig members Farliament c held at Ox- were escorted b}^ great numbers of their ford and dis- armed and mounted tenants and serving- solved. ° men, who exchanged looks of defiance with the ro3^al guards. The slightest provocation might, under such circumstances, have produced a civil war ; but neither side dared to strike the first blow. The King again offered to consent to anything but the Exclusion Bill. The Commons were determined to accept nothing but the Exclusion Bill. In a few days the Parliament was again dissolved. The King had triumphed. The reaction, which had begun some months before the meeting of the Houses at Oxford, now went rapidly on. The nation, indeed, was still hostile to Popery ; but, when men tum ^^^^' reviewed the whole history of the plot, they felt that their Protestant zeal had hurried them into foil}' and crime, and could scarcely believe that they had been induced by nurser^^ tales to clamor for the blood of fellow-subjects and fellow-Christians. The most lo3'al, indeed, could not den}^ that the admin- istration of Charles had often been highl}^ blamable. But men who had not the full information which we possess touching his dealings with France, and who were disgusted b}^ the violence of the Whigs, enumer- ated the large concessions which, during the last few years, he had made to his parliaments, and the still larger concessions which he had declared himself will- ing to make. He had consented to the laws which excluded Roman Catholics from the House of Lords, from the Privy Council, and from all civil and military 302 History of England offices. He had passed the Habeas Corpus Act. If securities yet stronger had not been provided against the dangers to which the constitution and the Church might be exposed under a Roman Catholic sovereign, the fault lay, not with Charles, who had invited the Parliament to propose such securities, but with those Whigs who had refused to hear of any substitute for the Exclusion Bill. One thing only had the King denied to his people. He had refused to take away his brother's birthright. And was there not good reason to believe that this refusal was prompted by laudable feelings ? What selfish motive could faction itself im- pute to the royal mind ? The Exclusion Bill did not curtail the reigning King's prerogatives, or diminish his income. Indeed, by passing it, he might easily have obtained an ample addition to his own revenue. And what was it to him who ruled after him ? Nay, if he had personal predilections, they were known to be rather in favor of the Duke of Monmouth than of the Duke of York. The most natural explanation of the King's conduct seemed to be that, careless as was his temper, and loose as were his morals, he had, on this occasion, acted from a sense of duty and honor. And, if so, would the nation compel him to do what he thought criminal and disgraceful ? To apply, even by strictly constitutional means, a violent pressure to his conscience, seemed to zealous Royalists ungenerous and undutiful. But strictly constitutional means were not the only means which the Whigs were disposed to employ. Signs were already discernible which por- tended the approach of great troubles. Men who, in the time of the civil war and of the Commonwealth, had acquired an odious notoriety, had emerged from Under Charles the Second 303 the obscurity in which, after the Restoration, they had hidden themselves from the general hatred, showed their confident and busy faces everywhere, and appeared to anticipate a second reign of the Saints. Another Naseby, another High Court of Justice, another usurper on the throne, the Lords again ejected from their hall by violence, the Universities again purged, the Church again robbed and persecuted, the Puritans again domi- nant — to such results did the desperate policy of the Opposition seem to tend. Strongly moved by these apprehensions, the majority of the upper and middle classes hastened to rally round the throne. The situation of the King bore, at this time, a great resemblance to that in which his father stood just after the Remonstrance had been voted. But the reaction of 1641 had not been suffered to run its course. Charles the First, at the very moment when his people, long estranged, were returned to him with hearts disposed to reconciHation, had, by a perfidious violation of the fundamental laws of the realm, forfeited their confidence forever. Had Charles the Second taken a similar course, had he arrested the Whig leaders in an irregular manner, had he impeached them of high-treason before a tribunal which had no legal jurisdiction over them, it is highly probable that they would speedil}' have regained the ascendency which they had lost. Fortunately for himself, he was in- duced, at this crisis, to adopt a policy singularly judi- cious. He determined to conform to the law, but at the same time to make vigorous and unsparing use of the law against his adversaries. He was not bound to convoke a parliament till three years should have elapsed. He was not much distressed for money. The J 04 History of England produce of the taxes which had been settled on him for life exceeded the estimate. He was at peace with all the w^orld. He could retrench his expenses by giving up the costly and useless settlement of Tangier ; and he might hope for pecuniary aid from France. He had, therefore, ample time and means for a systematic attack on the Opposition under the forms of the constitution. The judges were removable at his pleasure : the juries were nominated by the sheriffs ; and, in almost all the counties of England, the sheriffs were nominated by himself. Witnesses, of the same class with those who had recently sworn away the liv^es of Papists, were ready to swear away the lives of Whigs. The first victim was College, a noisy and violent demagogue of mean birth and education. He was by trade a joiner, and was celebrated as the inventor of the Protestant flail.' He had been at Oxford ersecu ion ^j^^j^ ^jjg Parliament sat there, and was of the Whigs. ' accused of having planned a rising and an attack on the King's guards. Kvidence was given against him by Dugdale and Turberville, the same in- famous men who had, a few months earlier, borne false witness against Stafford. In the sight of a jury of country squires no Kxclusionist was likel}^ to find favor. College was convicted. The crowd which filled the court-house of Oxford received the verdict with a roar of exultation, as barbarous as that which he and his friends had been in the habit of raising when innocent Papists were doomed to the gallows. His execution was ' This is mentioned in the curious work entitled Ragguaglio della solenne Comparsa fatta in Roma gli otto di Gennaio, j6S/', dalV illustrissimo et eccellentissimo signer Conte di Cas- tle^nainc. Under Charles the Second 305 the beginuiug of a new judicial massacre, uot less atro- cious than that in which he had himself borne a share. The government, emboldened by this first victory, now aimed a blow at an enem}- of a ver}' different class. It was resolved that Shaftesbur}^ should be brought to trial for his life. Evidence was collectt^d which, it was thought, would support a charge of treason. But the facts which it was necessar_v to prove were alleged to have been committed in London. The sheriffs of London, chosen b}' the citizens, were zealous Whigs. They named a Whig grand jury, which threw out the bill. This defeat, far from discouraging those who ad- vised the King, suggested to them a new and daring scheme. Since the charter of the capital Charter of ^ the city con- was in their way, that charter must be an- fiscated. nulled. It was pretended, therefore, that the city had b}- some irregularities forfeited its munici- pal privileges ; and proceedings were instituted against the corporation in the Court of King's Bench. At the same time those laws which had, soon after the Restora- tion, been enacted against Non-conformists, and which had remained dormant during the ascendency of the Whigs, were enforced all over the kingdom with ex- treme rigor. Yet the spirit of the Whigs was not subdued. Though in evil plight, they were still a numerous and powerful party ; and, as they mustered Whig con- strong: in the large towns, and especially in SDirsicics* the capital, they made a noise and a show more than proportioned to their real force. Animated by the recollection of past triumphs, and by the sense of present oppression, they overrated both their strength and their WTongs. It was not in their power to make VOL I — 20 3o6 History of England out that clear and overwhelming case which can alone justify so violent a remedy as resistance to an estab- lished government. Whatever they might suspect, they could not prove that their sovereign had entered into a treaty with France against the religion and liberties of Kngland. What was apparent was not sufficient to warrant an appeal to the sword. If the IvOrds had thrown out the Exclusion Bill, they had thrown it out in the exercise of a right coeval with the constitution. If the King had dissolved the Oxford Parliament, he had done so by virtue of a prerogative which had never been questioned. If he had, since the dissolution, done some harsh things, still those things were in strict conformity with the letter of the law, and with the recent practice of the malcontents themselves. If he had prosecuted his opponents, he had prosecuted them according to the proper forms, and before the proper tribunals. The evidence now produced for the crown was at least as worthy of credit as the evidence on which the noblest blood of England had lately been shed by the Opposition. The treatment which an accused Whig had now to expect from judges, advo- cates, sheriffs, juries, and spectators, was no worse than the treatment which had lately been thought by the Whigs good enough for an accused Papist. If the privileges of the city of London were attacked, they were attacked, not by military violence or by any disputable exercise of prerogative, but according to the regular practice of Westminster Hall. No tax was imposed by royal authorit}^ No law was sus- pended. The Habeas Corpus Act was respected. Even the Test Act was enforced. The Opposition, therefore, could not bring home to the King that species of mis- Under Charles the Second 307 government which alone could justify insurrection. And, even had his misgovernment been more flagrant than it was, insurrection would still have been criminal, because it was almost certain to be unsuccessful. The situation of the Whigs in 1682 differed widely from that of the Roundheads forty \ears before. Those who took up arms against Charles the First acted under the au- thority of a Parliament which had been legally assem- bled, and which could not, without its own consent, be legally dissolved. The opponents of Charles the Second were private men. Almost all the military and naval resources of the kingdom had been at the disposal of those who resisted Charles the First. All the military and naval resources of the kingdom were at the disposal of Charles the Second. The House of Commons had been supported by at least half the nation against Charles the First. But those who were disposed to lev}^ war against Charles the Second were certainly a minority. It could hardly be doubted, therefore, that, if they attempted a rising, they would fail. Still less could it be doubted that their failure would aggravate every evil of which they complained. The true policy of the Whigs was to submit with patience to adversity which was the natural consequence and the just punish- ment of their errors, to wait patiently for that turn of public feeling which must inevitably come, to observe the law, and to avail themselves of the protection, im- perfect indeed, but by no means nugatory, which the law afforded to innocence. Unhappily they took a very different course. Unscrupulous and hot-headed chiefs of the party formed and discussed schemes of resistance, and were heard, if not with approbation, yet with the show of acquiescence, by much better men than them- o 08 History of England selves. It was proposed that there should be simul- taneous insurrections in L,ondon, in Cheshire, at Bristol, and at Newcastle. Communications were opened with the discontented Presbyterians of Scotland, who were suffering under a tyranny such as England, in the worst times, had never known. While the leaders of the Opposition thus revolved plans of open rebellion, but were still restrained by fears or scruples from taking any decisive step, a design of a very different kind was meditated by some of their accomplices. To fierce spirits, unrestrained by principle, or maddened by fanaticism, it seemed that to waylay and murder the King and his brother was the shortest and surest way of vindicating the Protestant religion and the liberties of England. A place and a time were named ; and the details of the butchery were frequently discussed, if not definitely arranged. This scheme was known but to few, and was concealed with especial care from the up- right and humane Russell, and from Monmouth, who, though not a man of delicate conscience, would have recoiled with horror from the guilt of parricide. Thus there were two plots, one within the other. The object of the great Whig plot was to raise the nation in arms against the government. The lesser plot, com- monly called the Rye-house Plot, in which only a few desperate men were concerned, had for its object the assassination of the King and of the heir presumptive. Both plots were soon discovered. Cowardly traitors hastened to save themselves, by divulging all, and Detection of "^^^^ thau all, that had passed in the de- thewhig liberations of the party. That only a small conspiracies. jniiiQj4|-y Qf those wlio meditated resistance had admitted into their minds the thought of as- Under Charles the Second 309 sassination is fully established : but, as the two con- spiracies ran into each other, it was not difficult for the government to confound them together. The Severity of J^^^^ indignation cxcited by the Rye-hoUvSe the govern- Plot was extended for a time to the whole "'^"*- Whig body. The king was now at Hberty to exact full vengeance for 3'ears of restraint and hu- miliation. Shaftesbury, indeed, had escaped the fate which his manifold perfidy had well desen^ed. He had seen that the ruin of his party was at hand, had in vain endeavored to make his peace with the royal brothers, had fled to Holland, and had died there, under the generous protection of a government which he had cruell}' WTonged. Monmouth threw himself at his father's feet and found mercy, but soon gave new offence, and thought it prudent to go into voluntary exile. Essex perished by his own hand in the Tower. Russell, who appears to have been guilty of no offence falling within the definition of high-treason, and Sid- ney, of whose guilt no legal evidence could be pro- duced, were beheaded in defiance of law and justice. Russell died with the fortitude of a Christian, Sidney with the fortitude of a Stoic. Some active politicians of meaner rank were sent to the gallows. Many quitted the country, numerous prosecutions for mis- prision of treason, for libel, and for conspiracy were in- stituted. Convictions w^ere obtained without difficulty from Tory juries, and rigorous punishments were in- flicted by courtly judges. With these criminal pro- ceedings were joined civil proceedings scarcely less formidable. Actions were brought against persons who had defamed the Duke of York ; and damages tantamount to a sentence of perpetual imprisonment 3IO History of England were demanded by the plaintiff, and without difficulty obtained. The Court of King's Bench pronounced that the franchises of the city of London were forfeited to the crown. Flushed with this great vic- chaners° ^^^^Y* ^^le government proceeded to attack the constitutions of other corporations which were governed by Whig officers, and which had been in the habit of returning Whig members to Parliament. Borough after borough was compelled to surrender its privileges ; and new charters were granted which gave the ascendency everywhere to the Tories. These proceedings, however reprehensible, had yet the semblance of legality. They were also accom- panied by an act intended to quiet the uneasiness with which many loyal men looked forward to the accession of a Popish sovereign. The Lady Anne, younger daughter of the Duke of York by his first wife, was married to George, a prince of the orthodox House of Denmark. The Tory gentry and clergy might now flatter themselves that the Church of England had been effectually secured without any violation of the order of succession. The King and the heir-presumptive were nearly of the same age. Both were approaching the decline of life. The King's health was good. It was therefore probable that James, if he ever came to the throne, would have but a short reign. Beyond his reign there was the gratifying prospect of a long series of Protestant sovereigns. The liberty of unlicensed printing was of little or no use to the vanquished party ; for the temper of judges and juries was such that no writer whom the govern- ment prosecuted for a libel had any chance of escaping. The dread of punishment, therefore, did all that a Under Charles the Second 311 censorship could have done. Meanwhile, the pulpits resounded with harangues against the sin of rebellion. The treatises in which Filmer maintained that heredi- tary despotism was the form of government ordained b}^ God, and that limited monarchy was a pernicious absurdity, had recently appeared, and had been favor- ably received by a large section of the Tor}- party. The University of Oxford, on the ver}- day on which Russell w^as put to death, adopted by a solemn public act these strange doctrines, and ordered the political works of Buchanan, ]\Iilton, and Baxter to be publicly burned in the court of the Schools. Thus emboldened, the King at length ventured to overstep the bounds which he had during some years observed, and to violate the plain letter of the law. The law was that not more than three years should pass between the dissolving of one parliament and the con- voking of another. But, when three years had elapsed after the dissolution of the Parliament which sat at Oxford, no writs w^ere issued for an election. This in- fraction of the constitution was the more reprehensible, because the King had little reason to fear a meeting with a new House of Commons. The counties were generally on his side ; and many boroughs in which the Whigs had lately held sway had been so remodelled that they were certain to return none but courtiers. In a short time the law was again violated in order to gratify the Duke of York. That prince was, partly , on account of his religion, and parti v on Influence of o x ^ the Duke of accouut of the stcmncss and harshness of York. -j^-g jiature, so unpopular that it had been thought necessary to keep him out of sight while the Exclusion Bill was before Parliament, lest his appear- 312 History of England ance should give an advantage to the party which was struggling to deprive him of his birthright. He had, therefore, been sent to govern Scotland, where the savage old tyrant I^auderdale was sinking into the grave. Even Lauderdale was now outdone. The administration of James was marked by odious laws, by barbarous punishments, and by judgments to the in- iquity of which even that age furnished no parallel. The Scottish Privy Council had power to put state- prisoners to the question. But the sight was so dread- ful that, as soon as the boots appeared, even the most servile and hard-hearted courtiers hastened out of the chamber. The board was sometimes quite deserted : and it was at length found necessary to make an order that the members should keep their seats on such occa- sions. The Duke of York, it was remarked, seemed to take pleasure in the spectacle which some of the worst men then living were unable to contemplate without pity and horror. He not onh' came to Council when the torture was to be inflicted, but watched the agonies of the sufferers with that sort of interest and com- placency with which men observe a curious experiment in science. Thus he employed himself at Edinburgh, till the event of the conflict between the court and the Whigs was no longer doubtful. He then returned to England : but he was still excluded b}^ the Test Act from all public employment ; nor did the King at first think it safe to violate a statute which the great ma- jority of his most loyal subjects regarded as one of the chief securities of their religion and of their civil rights. When, however, it appeared from a succession of trials, that the nation had patience to endure almost anything that the government had courage to do, Under Charles the Second 313 Charles ventured to dispense with the law in his brother's favor. The Duke again took his seat in the Council, and resumed the direction of naval affairs. These breaches of the constitution excited, it is true, some murmurs among the moderate Tories, and were He is op- ""^^ unanimously approved even by the posed by King's ministers. Halifax in particular, Halifax. j^Q^, ^ marquess and Lord Privy Seal, had, from the very day on which the Tories had by his help gained the ascendant, begun to turn Whig. As soon as the Exclusion Bill had been thrown out, he had pressed the House of Lords to make provision against the danger to which, in the next reign, the liberties and religion of the nation might be exposed. He now saw with alarm the violence of that reaction which was, in no small measure, his own work. He did not try to conceal the scorn which he felt for the servile doctrines of the University of Oxford. He detested the French alliance. He disapproved of the long intermission of parliaments. He regretted the severity with which the vanquished party was treated. He who, when the Whigs were predominant, had ventured to pronounce Stafford not guilty, ventured, when they were van- quished and helpless, to intercede for Russell. At one of the last councils which Charles held, a remarkable scene took place. The charter of Massachusetts had been forfeited. A question arose how, for the future, the colony should be governed. The general opinion of the board was that the whole power, legislative as well as executive, should abide in the crown. Halifax took the opposite side, and argued with great energy against absolute monarchy, and in favor of representa- tive government. It was vain, he said, to think that a 314 History of England population, sprung from the English stock, and ani- mated by English feelings, would long bear to be de- prived of English institutions. I^ife, he exclaimed, would not be worth having in a country where hberty and property were at the mercy of one despotic master. The Duke of York was greatly incensed by this lan- guage, and represented to his brother the danger of re- taining in office a man who appeared to be infected with all the worst notions of Marvell and Sidney. Some modern writers have blamed Halifax for con- tinuing in the ministry while he disapproved of the manner in which both domestic and foreign affairs were conducted. But this censure is unjust. Indeed, it is to be remarked that the word ministry, in the sense in which we use it, was then unknown.' The thing itself did not exist ; for it belongs to an age in which parlia- mentary government is fully established. At present the chief servants of the crown form one body. They are understood to be on terms of friendly confidence with each other, and to agree as to the main principles on which the executive adminstration ought to be con- ducted. If a slight difference of opinion arises among them, it is easil}' compromised : but if one of them differs from the rest on a vital point, it is his duty to re- sign. While he retains his office, he is held responsible even for steps which he has tried to dissuade his col- leagues from taking. In the seventeenth century, the heads of the various branches of the administration were bound together in no such partnership. Each of them was accountable for his own acts, for the use which he made of his own official seal, for the documents which he signed, for the counsel which he gave to the ^ North's Exameii. 69. Under Charles the Second 315 King. No statesman was held answerable for what he had not himself done, or induced others to do. If he took care not to be the agent in what was wrong, and if, when consulted, he recommended what was right, he was blameless. It would have been thought strange scrupulosity in him to quit his post because his advice as to matters not strictly within his own department was not taken by his master ; to leave the Board of Admiralt}', for example, because the finances were in disorder, or the Board of Treasury because the foreign relations of the kingdom were in an unsatisfactory state. It was, therefore, by no means unusual to see in high office at the same time men who avowedly differed from one another as widely as ever Pulteney differed from Walpole, or Fox from Pitt. The moderate and constitutional counsels of Halifax were timidly and feebly seconded by Francis North, Lord Guildford, who had lately been made f'ord'? ^"'^'^' keeper of the Great Seal. The'character of Guildford has been drawn at full length by his brother, Roger North, a most intolerant Tory, a most affected and pedantic writer, but a vigilant ob- ser\'er of all those minute circumstances which throw light on the dispositions of men. It is remarkable that the biographer, though he was under the influence of the strongest fraternal partiality, and though he was evidently anxious to produce a flattering likeness, was unable to portray the Lord Keeper otherwise than as the most ignoble of mankind. Yet the intellect of Guildford was clear, his industry great, his proficiency in letters and science respectable, and his legal learning more than respectable. His faults were selfishness, cowardice, and meanness. He was not insensible to 3^6 History of England the power of female beauty, nor averse from excess in wine. Yet neither wine nor beauty could ever seduce the cautious and frugal libertine, even in his earliest youth, into one fit of indiscreet generosity. Though of noble descent, he rose in his profession by paying ignominious homage to all who possessed influence in the courts. He became Chief-justice of the Common Pleas, and as such was party to some of the foulest judicial murders recorded in our history. He had sense enough to perceive from the first that Gates and Bedloe were impostors : but the Parliament and the countr}^ were greatly excited ; the government had yielded to the pressure ; and North was not a man to risk a good place for the sake of justice and humanity. Accordingly, while he was in secret drawing up a refu- tation of the whole romance of the Popish Plot, he de- clared in public that the truth of the stor}^ was as plain as the sun in heaven, and was not ashamed to brow- beat, from the seat of judgment, the unfortunate Roman Catholics who were arraigned before him for their lives. He had at length reached the highest post in the law. But a lawyer who, after many 37ears devoted to profes- sional labor, engages in politics for the first time at an advanced period of life, seldom distinguishes himself as a statesman ; and Guildford was no exception to the general rule. He was, indeed, so sensible of his de- ficiencies that he never attended the meetings of his colleagues on foreign affairs. Even on questions re- lating to his own profession his opinion had less weight at the Council board than that of any man who has ever held the Great Seal. Such as his influence was, however, he used it, as far as he dared, on the side of the laws. Under Charles the Second 317 « The chief opponent of HaHfax was Lawrence Hyde, who had recently been created Earl of Rochester. Of all Tories, Rochester was the most intolerant and un- compromising. The moderate members of his party complained that the whole patronage of the Treasury, while he was First Commissioner there, went to noisy zealots, whose only claim to promotion was that they were alwaj^s drinking confusion to Whiggery, and lighting bonfires to burn the Exclusion Bill. The Duke of York, pleased with a spirit which so much re- sembled his own, supported his brother-in-law passion- ately and obstinately. The attempts of the rival ministers to surmount and supplant each other kept the court in incessant agita- tion. Halifax pressed the King to summon a parlia- ment, to grant a general amnest}^, to deprive the Duke of York of all share in the government, to recall Mon- mouth from banishment, to break with Lewis, and to form a close union with Holland on the principles of the Triple Alliance. The Duke of York, on the other hand, dreaded the meeting of a parliament, regarded the vanquished Whigs with undiminished hatred, still flattered himself that the design formed fourteen years before at Dover might be accomplished, daily repre- sented to his brother the impropriety of suffering one who was at heart a Republican to hold the Privy Seal, and strongly recommended Rochester for the great place of Lord Treasurer. While the two factions were struggHng, Godolphin, cautious, silent, and laborious, observed a neutrality between them. Sunderland, with his usual restless perfidy, intrigued against them both. He had been turned out of office in disgrace for having voted in favor 3i8 History of England of the Exclusion Bill, but had made his peace by em- ploying the good ofi&ces of the Duchess of Portsmouth and by cringing to the Duke of York, and was once more Secretary of State. Nor was lyCwis negligent or inactive. Everything at that moment favored his designs. He had nothing to apprehend from the German empire, which Lewis ° ^^^ then contending against the Turks on the Danube. Holland, could not, unsup- ported, venture to oppose him. He was therefore at liberty to indulge his ambition and insolence without restraint. He seized Strasburg, Courtray, I^uxem- burg. He exacted from the republic of Genoa the most humiliating submissions. The power of France at that time reached a higher point than it ever before or ever after attained, during the ten centuries which separated the reign of Charlemagne from the reign of Napoleon. It was not easy to say where her acquisi- tions would stop, if only England could be kept in a state of vassalage. The first object of the court of Versailles was therefore to prevent the calling of a par- liament and the reconciliation of English parties. For this end bribes, promises, and menaces were unspar- ingly employed. Charles was sometimes allured by the hope of a subsid}^ and sometimes frightened by being told that, if he convoked the Houses, the secret articles of the treaty of Dover should be published. Several privy councillors were bought ; and attempts were made to buy Halifax, but in vain.' When he had ^ Lord Preston, who was envoy at Paris, wrote thence to Hali- fax as follows : "I find that your lordship lies still under the same misfortune of being no favorite to this court ; and Mon- sieur Barillon dare not do you the honor to shine upon you, Under Charles the Second 319 been found incorruptible, all the art and influence of the French embassy were employed to drive him from office : but his polished wit and his various accomplish- ments had made him so agreeable to his master, that the design failed. Halifax w^as not content with standing on the de- fensive. He openly accused Rochester of malversa- tion. An inquirs' took place. It appeared that forty thousand pounds had been lost to the public by the mismanagement of the First lyord of the Treasury. In consequence of this discovery, he was not only forced to relinquish his hopes of the white staff, but was re- moved from the direction of the finances to the more dignified but less lucrative and important post of lyord President. " I have seen people kicked down-stairs," said Halifax ; " but my Lord Rochester is the first person that I ever saw kicked up-stairs. " Godolphin, now a peer, became First Commissioner of the Treasury. Still, however, the contest continued. The event state of fac- depended wholly on the will of Charles ; tions in the and Charlcs could not come to a decision, court of -j-^ j^-g perplexity he promised eventhing the time of to cvcrybody. He would stand by France : hi3 death. -^g would break with France: he would never meet another parliament : he would order since his master frowneth. They know very well your lord- ship's qualifications, which make them fear and consequently hate you ; and be assured, my lord, if all their strength can send you to RufiFord, it shall be employed for that end. Two things, I hear, they particularly object against you— your secrecy, and your being incapable of being corrupted. Against these two things I know they have declared." The date of the letter is October 5. n. S. 1683. 320 History of England writs for a parliament to be issued without delay. He assured the Duke of York that Halifax should be dismissed from ofi5ce, and Halifax that the Duke should be sent to Scotland. In public he affected im- placable resentment against Monmouth, and in pri- vate conveyed to Monmouth assurances of unalterable affection. How long, if the King's life had been pro- tracted, his hesitation would have lasted, and what would have been his resolve, can only be conjectured. Karly in the 3"ear 1685, while hostile parties were anxiously awaiting his determination, he died, and a new scene opened. In a few months the excesses of the government obliterated the impression which had been made on the public mind by the excesses of the Opposition. The violent reaction which had laid the Whig party prostrate was followed by a still more vio- lent reaction in the opposite direction ; and signs not to be mistaken indicated that the great conflict between the prerogatives of the crown and the privileges of the Parliament was about to be brought to a final issue. CHAPTER III STATE OF ENGLAND IN 1 685 I INTEND, in this chapter, to give a description of the state in which England was at the time when the crown passed from Charles the Second to his brother. Such a description, composed from scanty and dispersed materials, must necessarily be ver>' im- perfect. Yet it may perhaps correct some false notions which would make the subsequent narrative unintel- ligible or uninstructive. If we would study with profit the histor}- of our an- cestors, we must be constantly on our guard against that delusion which the well-known names of families, places, and offices naturally produce, and must never forget that the country of which we read was a very different country from that in which we li\'e. In every experimental science there is a tendenc>' toward per- fection. In every human being there is a wish to amehorate his own condition. These two principles have often sufficed, even when counteracted by great public calamities and by bad institutions, to carry civilization rapidly forward. No ordinary misfortune, no ordinar}^ misgovernment, will do so much to make VOL. I 21 321 322 History of England a nation wretched, as the constant progress of physical knowledge and the constant efifort of every man to better himself will do to make a nation prosperous. It has often been found that profuse expenditure, heavy taxation, absurd commercial restrictions, corrupt tribu- nals, disastrous wars, seditions, persecutions, conflagra- tions, inundations, have not been able to destroy capital so fast as the exertions of private citizens have been able to create it. It can easily be proved that, in our own land, the national wealth has, during at least six centuries, been almost uninterrupted!}^ increasing ; that it was greater under the Tudors than under the Plantagenets ; that it was greater under the Stuarts than under the Tudors ; that, in spite of battles, sieges, and confiscations, it was greater on the day of the Restoration than on the da}^ when the lyOng Parliament met ; that, in spite of maladministration, of extrava- gance, of public bankruptcy, of two costly and unsuc- cessful wars, of the pestilence, and of the fire, it was greater on the day of the death of Charles the Second than on the day of his restoration. This progress, having continued during many ages, became at length, about the middle of the eighteenth century, portentously rapid, and has proceeded, during the nineteenth, with accelerated velocity. In consequence partly of our geographical and partly of our moral position, we have, during several generations, been exempt from evils which have elsewhere impeded the efforts and destroyed the fruits of industry. While every part of the Con- tinent, from Moscow to Lisbon, has been the theatre of bloody and devastating wars, no hostile standard has been seen here but as a trophy. While revolutions have taken place all around us, our government has State of England in 1685 never once been subverted by violence. During more than a hundred years there has been in our island no tumult of sufficient importance to be called an insur- rection ; nor has the law been once borne down either by popular fur}- or by regal tyranny : public credit has been held sacred: the administration of justice has been pure : even in times which might by Englishmen be justl}^ called evil times, we have enjoyed what almost everj^ other nation in the world would have considered as an ample measure of civil and religious freedom. Every man has felt entire confidence that the state would protect him in the possession of what had been earned by his diligence and hoarded by his self-denial. Under the benignant influence of peace and libert}-, science has flourished, and has been applied to practical purposes on a scale never before known. The con- sequence is that a change to which the his- Great change , , _ . ^ in the state ^ory oi the old world lurnishes no parallel of England has taken place in our countn,-. Could the 5. ;gngland of 1685 be, by some magical pro- cess, set before our eyes, we should not know one land- scape in a hundred or one building in ten thousand. The country gentleman would not recognize his own fields. The inhabitant of the town would not recognize his own street. Everything has been changed but the great features of nature, and a few massive and durable works of human art. We might find out Snowdon and Windermere, the Cheddar Clifis and Beachy Head. We might find out here and there a Norman minster, or a castle which witnessed the wars of the Roses. But, with such rare exceptions, ever>'thing would be strange to us. Many thousands of square miles which are now rich corn land and meadow, intersected by 324 History of England green hedge-rows, and dotted with villages and pleas- ant country-seats, would appear as moors overgrown with furze, or fens abandoned to wild ducks. We should see straggling huts built of wood and covered with thatch, where we now see manufacturing towns and seaports renowned to the farthest ends of the world. The capital itself would shrink to dimensions not much exceeding those of its present suburb on the south of the Thames. Not less strange to us would be the garb and manners of the people, the furniture and the equi- pages, the interior of the shops and dwellings. Such a change in the state of a nation seems to be at least as well entitled to the notice of a historian as any change of the dynasty or of the ministry.' One of the first objects of an inquirer, who wishes to form a correct notion of the state of a community at a „ , . given time, must be to ascertain of how many Population ^ ' -' of England persoiis that community then consisted, in 1685. Unfortunately the population of England in 16S5 cannot be ascertained with perfect accuracy. For no great state had then adopted the wise course of periodically numbering the people. All men were left to conjecture for themselves ; and, as they generally conjectured without examining facts, and under the influence of strong passions and prejudices, their ' During the interval which has elapsed since this chapter was written, England has continued to advance rapidly in ma- terial prosperity. I have left my text nearly as it originally stood ; but I have added a few notes which may enable the reader to form some notion of the progress which has been made during the last nine years ; and, in general, I would desire him to remember that there is scarcely a district which is not more populous, or a source of wealth which is not more pro- ductive, at present than in 1848 (1S57J. btate ot England in 1685 325 guesses were often ludicrously absurd. Even intel- ligent Londoners ordinarily talked of L,ondon as con- taining several millions of souls. It was confidently asserted by many that, during the thirty-five years which elapsed between the accession of Charles the First and the Restoration, the population of the city had increased by two millions.' Even while the ravages of the plague and fire were recent, it was the fashion to say that the capital still had a million and a half of inhabitants.' Some persons, disgusted by these exaggerations, ran violently into the opposite extreme. Thus Isaac Vossius, a man of undoubted parts and learning, strenuousl}- maintained that there were only two millions of human beings in England, Scotland, and Ireland taken together.^ We are not, however, left without the means of cor- recting the wild blunders into which some minds were hurried by national vanity and others by a morbid love of paradox. There are extant three computations which seem to be entitled to peculiar attention. They are entirely independent of each other : they proceed on different principles ; and yet there is little difference in the results. One of these computations was made in the year 1696 by Gregory King, Lancaster herald, a political arith- ' Observations on the Bills of Mortality, by Captain John Graunt (Sir William Petty), Chap, XI. ' " She doth comprehend Full fifteen hundred thousand which do spend Their days within." — Great Britain's Beauty, 1671. 2 Isaac Vossius, De Magnitudine Urbium Sinaruin, 1685. Vossius, as we learn from Saint Evremond, talked on this sub- ject oftener and longer than fashionable circles cared to listen. o 26 History of England metician of great acuteness and judgment. The basis of bis calculations was the number of houses returned in 1690 by the oflficers who made the last collection of the hearth-money. The conclusion at which he arrived was that the population of England was nearly five millions and a half.' About the same time King William the Third was desirous to ascertain the comparative strength of the religious sects into which the community was divided. An inquiry was instituted ; and reports were laid before him from all the dioceses of the realm. According to these reports, the number of his English subjects must have been about five million two hundred thousand.'^ Lastly, in our own da^^s, Mr. Finlaison, an actuary of eminent skill, subjected the ancient parochial regis- ters of baptisms, marriages, and burials to all the tests which the modern improvements in statistical science enabled him to apph^ His opinion was, that, at the close of the seventeenth century, the population of England was a little under five million two hundred thousand souls.' Of these three estimates, framed without concert by different persons from different sets of materials, the ' King's Natural and Political Observations, 1696. This valuable treatise, which ought to be read as the author wrote it, and not as garbled by Davenant, will be found in some editions of Chalmers's Estimate. ' Dalrymple's Appendix to Part II., Book I. The practice of reckoning the population by sects was long fashionable. Gul- liver says of the King of Brobdingnag : " He laughed at my odd arithmetic, as he was pleased to call it, in reckoning the num- bers of our people by a computation drawn from the several sects among us in religion and politics." ' Preface to the Population Returns of 1831. State of England in 1685 327 highest, which is that of King, does not exceed the lowest, which is that of Finlaison, by one-twelfth. We may, therefore, with confidence pronounce that, when James the Second reigned, England contained between five million and five million five hundred thousand in- habitants. On the very highest supposition she then had less than one-third of her present population, and less than three times the population which is now col- lected in her gigantic capital. The increase of the people has been great in every part of the kingdom, but general!}- much greater in the northern than in the southern shires. In Increase of ^^^^-^ ^ ^^ ^^^ ^^ ^-^^ country bcyoud population ox- ./ ^ greater in the Trent was, dowu to the eighteenth century, north than in ^^ ^ state of barbarism. Phy.sical and moral the south. .... causes had concurred to prevent civilization from spreading to that region. The air was inclement ; the soil was generally such as required skilful and in- dustrious cultivation ; and there could be little skill or industry in a tract which was often the theatre of war, and which, even when there was nominal peace, was constantly desolated b}' bands of Scottish marauders. Before the union of the two British crowns, and long after that union, there was as great a difference between Middlesex and Northumberland as there now is between i^Iassachusetts and the settlements of those squatters who, far to the west of the Mississippi, administer a rude justice with the rifle and the dagger. In the reign of Charles the Second, the traces left by ages of slaughter and pillage were distinctly perceptible, many miles south of the Tweed, in the face of the country and in the lawless manners of the people. There was still a large class of moss-troopers, whose calling was to 3-S History of England plunder dwellings and to drive away whole herds of cattle. It was found necessar>% soon after the Restora- tion, to enact laws of great severity for the prevention of these outrages. The magistrates of Northumberland and Cumberland were authorized to raise bands of armed men for the defence of property and order ; and provision was made for meeting the expense of these levies by local taxation.' The parishes were required to keep blood-hounds for the purpose of hunting the freebooters. Many old men who were living in the middle of the eighteenth century could well remember the time when those ferocious dogs were common.* Yet, even with such auxiliaries, it was often found im- possible to track the robbers to their retreats among the hills and morasses. For the geography of that wild country was very imperfectly known. Even after the accession of George the Third, the path over the fells from Borrowdale to Ravenglas was still a secret care- fully kept by the dalesmen, some of whom had probably in their youth escaped from the pursuit of justice by that road.' The seats of the gentry and the larger farm-houses were fortified. Oxen were penned at night beneath the overhanging battlements of the residence, which was known by the name of the Peel. The in- mates slept with arms at their sides. Huge stones and boiling water were in readiness to crush and scald the plunderer who might venture to assail the little garri- son. No traveller ventured into that country without ' Statutes 14 Car. II., c. 22 ; 18 and 19 Car. II., c. 3 ; 29 and 30 Car. II., c. 2. '' Nicholson and Bourne, Discourse on the Ancient State of the Border, 1777. ^ Qray'sjonrnal of a Tour in the Lakes ^ Oct. 3, 1769. State of England in 1685 329 making his will. The judges on circuit, with the whole bod}' of barristers, attorne>s, clerks, and serving-men, rode on horseback from Newcastle to Carlisle, armed and escorted by a strong guard under the command of the sheriffs. It was necessary to carry provisions ; for the country was a wilderness which afforded no sup- plies. The spot where the cavalcade halted to dine, under an immense oak, is not 3'et forgotten. The irregular vigor with which criminal justice was ad- ministered shocked observers whose lives had been passed in more tranquil districts. Juries, animated by hatred and by a sense of common danger, convicted house-breakers and cattle-stealers with the promptitude of a court-martial in a mutiny ; and the convicts were hurried by scores to the gallows.' Within the memory of some whom this generation has seen, the sportsman who wandered in pursuit of game to the sources of the T^me found the heaths round Keeldar Castle peopled by a race scarcely less savage than the Indians of Cali- fornia, and heard with surprise the half-naked women chanting a wild measure, while the men with brand- ished dirks danced a war-dance.' Slowly and with difficulty peace was established on the border. In the train of peace came industry and all the arts of life. Meanwhile it was discovered that the regions north of the Trent possessed in their coal-beds a source of wealth far more precious than the gold- mines of Peru. It was found that, in the neighborhood of these beds, almost every manufacture might be most > North's Life of Guildford ; Hutchinson's History of Cum- berland, Parish of Brampton. » See Sir Walter Scott's Journal, Oct. 7, 1827, in his I^ife by Mr. Lockhart. 330 History of England profitably carried on. A constant stream of emigrants began to roll northward. It appeared by the returns of 1 84 1 that the ancient archiepiscopal province of York contained two sevenths of the population of England. At the time of the Revolution that province was believed to contain only one seventh of the population.' In Lancashire the number of inhabitants appears to have increased ninefold, while in Norfolk, Suffolk, and Northamptonshire it has hardly doubled.^ Of the taxation we can speak with more confidence and precision than of the population. The revenue of England, when Charles the Second died, Revenue in ^^^ small, wheu comparcd with the resources 1685. ' ^ w^hich she even then possessed, or with the sums which were raised by the governments of the neighboring countries. It had, from the time of the Res- toration, been almost constantly increasing ; yet it was little more than three fourths of the revenue of the United Provinces, and was hardly one fifth of the reve- nue of France. The most important head of receipt was the excise, w^hich, in the last 3'ear of the reign of Charles, produced five hundred and eighty-five thousand pounds, clear of all deductions. The net proceeds of the customs ' Dalrymple, Appendix to Part II., Book I. The returns of the hearth-money lead to nearly the same conclusion. The hearths in the province of York were not a sixth of the hearths of England. ' I do not, of course, pretend to strict accuracy here ; but I believe that whoever will take the trouble to compare the last returns of hearth-money in the reign of William the Third with the census of 1841, will come to a conclusion not very diflferent from mine. State of Rngland in 1685 ^^^ amounted in the same year to five hundred and thirty thousand pounds. These burdens did not lie very heavy on the nation. The tax on chimnej^s, though less productive, called forth far louder murmurs. The discontent excited by direct imposts is, indeed, almost always out of proportion to the quantity of money which they bring into the Exchequer ; and the tax on chimneys was, even among direct imposts, peculiarly odious : for it could be levied only by means of domi- ciliary visits ; and of such visits the English have always been impatient to a degree which the people of other countries can but faintly conceive. The poorer house-holders were frequently unable to pay their hearth-money to the day. When this happened, their furniture was distrained without mercy : for the tax w^as farmed ; and a farmer of taxes is, of all creditors, proverbially the most rapacious. The collectors were loudly accused of performing their unpopular duty with harshness and insolence. It was said that, as soon as they appeared at the threshold of a cottage, the children began to w^ail, and the old women ran to hide their earthen-ware. Nay, the single bed of a poor famih- had sometimes been carried away and sold. The net annual receipt from this tax was two hundred thousand pounds.' ' There are in the Pepysian Library some ballads of that age on the chimney-money. I will give a specimen or two : " The good old dames, whenever they the chimney man espied, Unto their nooks they haste away, their pots and pipkins hide, There is not one old dame in ten, and search the nation through, But, if you talk of chimney men, will spare a curse or two." Again : '• Like plundering soldiers they 'd enter the door, And make a distress on the goods of the poor, SS~ History of England When to the three great sources of income which have been mentioned we add the royal domains, then far more extensive than at present, the first-fruits and tenths, which had not yet been surrendered to the Church, the duchies of Cornwall and Lancaster, the forfeitures, and the fines, we shall find that the whole annual revenue of the crown may be fairl}^ estimated at about fourteen hundred thousand pounds. Of this revenue part was hereditary : the rest had been granted to Charles for life ; and he was at libert}^ to lay out the whole exactly as he thought fit. Whatever he could save b}' retrenching from the expenditure of the public departments was an addition to his privy purse. Of the Post-ofiice more will hereafter be said. The profits of that establishment had been appropriated by Parlia- ment to the Duke of York. The King's revenue was, or rather ought to have been, charged with the payment of about eight}' thou- sand pounds a year, the interest of the sum fraudulently detained in the Exchequer by the Cabal. While Danby was at the head of the finances, the creditors had re- ceived dividends, though not with the strict punctuality While frig^hted poor children distractedly cried : This nothing- abated their insolent pride." In the British Museum there are doggerel verses composed on the same subject and in the same spirit : " Or, if through poverty it be not paid, For cruelty to tear away the single bed. On which the poor man rests his weary head, At once deprives him of his rest and bread." I take this opportunity, the first which occurs, of acknowl- edging most gratefully the kind and liberal manner in which the Master and Vice-master of Magdalene College, Cambridge, gave me access to the valuable collections of Pepys. State of England in 1685 T T T of modern times : but those who had succeeded him at the Treasury had been less expert, or less solicitous to maintain public faith. Since the victory won by the court over the Whigs, not a farthing had been paid ; and no redress was granted to the sufferers, till a new dynast}^ had been many years on the throne. There can be no greater error than to imagine that the device of meeting the exigencies of the state by loans was im- ported into our island by William the Third. What really dates from his reign is not the system of borrow- ing, but the system of funding. From a period of im- memorial antiquity it had been the practice of every English government to contract debts. What the Revolution introduced was the practice of honestly pay- ing them.' By plundering the public creditor, it was possible to make an income of about fourteen hundred thousand pounds, with some occasional help from Versailles, support the necessary charges of the government and the wasteful expenditure of the court. For that load which pressed most heavily on the finances of the great continental states was here scarceh' felt. In France, Germany, and the Netherlands, armies, such as Henry the Fourth and Philip the Second had never employed in time of war, were kept up in the midst of peace. Bastions and ravelins were everywhere rising, con- structed on principles unknown to Parma and Spinola. Stores of artillery and ammunition were accumulated, such as even Richelieu, whom the preceding generation had regarded as a worker of prodigies, would have pro- nounced fabulous. No man could journey many ' My chief authorities for this financial statement will be found in the Commons' Journal, March i and March 20, i68§. 334 History of England leagues in those countries without hearing the drums of a regiment on march, or being challenged by the sentinels on the drawbridge of a fortress. In our island, on the contrary, it was possible to live long Military sys- ^^^ ^^ travel far, without being once re- minded, by any martial sight or sound, that the defence of nations had become a science and a call- ing. The majority of Englishmen who were under twenty-five 3'ears of age had probably never seen a company of regular soldiers. Of the cities which, in the civil war, had valiantly repelled hostile armies, scarcely one was now capable of sustaining a siege. The gates stood open night and day. The ditches were dry. The ramparts had been suffered to fall into de- cay, or were repaired only that the townsfolk might have a pleasant walk on summer evenings. Of the old baronial keeps, many had been shattered by the cannon of Fairfax and Cromwell, and lay in heaps of ruin, overgrown with ivy. Those which remained had lost their martial character, and were now rural palaces of the aristocracy. The moats were turned into preserves of carp and pike. The mounds were planted with fra- grant shrubs, through which spiral walks ran up to summer-houses adorned with mirrors and paintings.* On the capes of the sea-coast, and on many inland hills, were still seen tall posts, surmounted by barrels. Once those barrels had been filled with pitch. Watch- men had been set round them in seasons of danger ; and, within a few hours after a Spanish sail had been discovered in the Channel, or after a thousand Scottish moss-troopers had crossed the Tweed, the signal-fires ' See, for example, the picture of the mound at Marlborough, in Stukeley's ItineraHii}n Cm iosiiui. state of England in 1685 335 were blazing fifty miles off, and whole counties were rising in arms. But many years had now elapsed since the beacons had been lighted ; and they were regarded rather as curious relics of ancient manners than as parts of a machinery necessary to the safety of the state/ The only army which the law recognized was the militia. That force had been remodelled by two acts of Parliament passed shortly after the Restoration. Ever}^ man who possessed five hundred pounds a year derived from land, or six thousand pounds of personal estate, was bound to provide, equip, and pa}-, at his own charge, one horseman. Every man who had fifty pounds a year derived from land, or six hundred pounds of personal estate, was charged in like manner with one pikeman or musketeer. Smaller proprietors were joined together in a kind of societ}', for which our language does not afford a special name, but which an Athenian would have called a Synteleia ; and each societ}' was required to furnish, according to its means, a horse-soldier or a foot-soldier. The whole number of cavalry and infantr\' thus maintained was popularly estimated at a hundred and thirty thousand men.' The King was, by the ancient constitution of the realm, and by the recent and solemn acknowledgment of both Houses of Parliament, the sole Captain-general of this large force. The lords-lieutenants and their deputies held the command under him, and appointed meetings for drilling and inspection. The time occu- pied by such meetings, however, was not to exceed ' Chamberlayne's State of England, 1684. « 13 and 14 Car. II., c. 3 ; 15 Car. H., c. 4. Chamberlayne's State of England, 1684. 33^ History of England fourteen daj^s in one 3^ear. The justices of the peace were authorized to inflict slight penalties for breaches of discipline. Of the ordinary cost no part was paid by the crown : but, when the trainbands were called out against an enemy, their subsistence became a charge on the general revenue of the state, and they were subject to the utmost rigor of martial law. There were those who looked on the militia with no friendly eye. Men who had travelled much on the Continent, who had marvelled at the stern precision with which every sentinel moved and spoke in the citadels built by Vauban, who had seen the mighty armies which poured along all the roads of Germany to chase the Ottoman from the gates of Vienna, and who had been dazzled by the well-ordered pomp of the household troops of I^ewis, sneered much at the way in which the peasants of Devonshire and Yorkshire marched and wheeled, shouldered muskets and ported pikes. The enemies of the liberties and religion of England looked with aversion on a force which could not, without extreme risk, be employed against those liberties and that religion, and missed no opportunity of throwing ridicule on the rustic soldiery.' Enhght- ' Dryden, in his Cymon and Iphigenia, expressed, with his usual keenness and energy, the sentiments which had been fashionable among the sycophants of James the Second : " The country rings around with loud alarms. And raw in fields the rude militia swarms ; Mouths without hands, maintained at vast expense, In peace a charge, in war a weak defence. Stout once a month they march, a blustering band, And ever, but in time of need, at hand. This was the morn when, issuing on the guard, Drawn up in rank and file, they stood prepared Of seeming arms to make a short essay Then hasten to be drunk, the business of the day." State of England in 1685 O J/ ened patriots, when they contrasted these rude levies with the battahons which, in time of war, a few hours might bring to the coast of Kent or Sussex, were forced to acknowledge that, dangerous as it might be to keep up a pennanent military establishment, it might be more dangerous still to stake the honor and independence of the country on the result of a contest between ploughmen officered by justices of the peace, and veteran warriors led by marshals of France. In Parliament, however, it was necessary to express such opinions with some reserve ; for the militia was an in- stitution eminenth' popular. Every reflection thrown on it excited the indignation of both the great parties of the state, and especiall}- of that party which was dis- tinguished by peculiar zeal for monarchy and for the Anglican Church. The array of the counties was com- manded almost exclusively b}' Tory noblemen and gentlemen. They were proud of their military rank, and considered an insult offered to the ser\'ice to which they belonged as offered to themselves. They were also perfectly aware that whatever was said against a militia was said in favor of a standing army ; and the name of standing army was hateful to them. One such army had held dominion in England ; and under that dominion the King had been murdered, the nobility degraded, the landed gentry plundered, the Church persecuted. There was scarcely a rural grandee who could not tell a story of wrongs and insults suffered by himself, or by his father, at the hands of the parlia- mentary soldiers. One old Cavalier had seen half his manor-house blown up. The hereditary elms of an- other had been hewn down. A third could never go into his parish church without being reminded, by the VOL. I — 21' 33^ History of England defaced scutcheons and headless statues of his ancestry, that Oliver's redcoats had once stabled their horses there. The consequence was that those very Ro3'al- ists, who were most ready to fight for the King them- selves, were the last persons whom he could venture to ask for the means of hiring regular troops. Charles, however, had, a few months after his restora- tion, begun to form a small standing army. He felt that, without some better protection than that of the trainbands and beef-eaters, his palace and person would hardly be secure, in the vicinity of a great cit}- swarm- ing with warlike Fifth Monarch}^ men who had just been disbanded. He therefore, careless and profuse as he was, contrived to spare from his pleasures a sum suffi- cient to keep up a body of guards. With the increase of trade and of public wealth his revenues increased ; and he was thus enabled, in spite of the occasional murmurs of the Commons, to make gradual additions to his regular forces. One considerable addition was made a few months before the close of his reign. The costl}^ useless, and pestilential settlement of Tangier was abandoned to the barbarians who dwelt around it ; and the garrison, consisting of one regiment of horse and two regiments of foot, was brought to England. The little army formed b}^ Charles the Second was the germ of that great and renowned army which has, in the present centur}^ marched triumphant into Madrid and Paris, into Canton and Candahar. The lyife Guards, who now form two regiments, were then dis- tributed into three troops, each of which consisted of two hundred carabineers, exclusive of officers. This corps, to which the safety of the King and ro3^al family was confided, had a very peculiar character. Even the State of England in 1685 339 privates were designated as gentlemen of the guard. Many of them were of good families, and had held com- missions in the civil war. Their pay was far higher than that of the most favored regiment of our time, and would in that age have been thought a respectable pro- vision for the younger son of a country squire. Their fine horses, their rich housings, their cuirasses, and their buflf coats, adorned with ribbons, velvet, and gold lace, made a splendid appearance in Saint James's Park. A small body of grenadier dragoons, who came from a lower class and received lower pay, was attached to each troop. Another body of household cavalry, distinguished by blue coats and cloaks, and still called the Blues, was generally quartered in the neighborhood of the capital. Near, the capital lay also the corps which is now designated as the first regiment of dra- goons, but which was then the only regiment of dra- goons on the English establishment. It had recently been formed out of the cavalry which had returned from Tangier. A single troop of 'dragoons, which did not form part of any regiment, was stationed near Berwick, for the purpose of keeping the peace among the moss- troopers of the border. For this species of service the dragoon was then thought to be peculiarly qualified. He has since become a mere horse-soldier. But in the seventeenth century he was accurately described by Montecuculi as a foot-soldier who used a horse only in order to arrive with more speed at the place where military service was to be performed. The household infantry consisted of two regiments, which were then, as now, called the first regiment of Foot Guards, and the Coldstream Guards. They gen- erally did duty near Whitehall and Saint James's 340 History of England Palace. As there were then no barracks, and as, by the Petition of Right, it had been declared unlawful to quarter soldiers on private families, the redcoats filled all the ale-houses of Westminster and the Strand. There were five other regiments of foot. One of these, called the Admiral's Regiment, was especially destined to service on board of the fleet. The remain- ing four still rank as the first four regiments of the line. Two of these represented two brigades which had long sustained on the Continent the fame of British valor. The first, or Royal regiment, had, under the great Gus- tavus, borne a conspicuous part in the deliverance of Germany. The third regiment, distinguished by flesh- colored facings, from which it had derived the well- known name of the Buffs, had, under Maurice of Nas- sau, fought not less bravely for the deliverance of the Netherlands. Both these gallant bands had at length, after many vicissitudes, been recalled from foreign ser- vice by Charles the Second, and had been placed on the English establishment. The regiments which now rank as the second and fourth of the line had, in 1685, just returned from Tangier, bringing with them cruel and licentious habits contracted in a long course of warfare with the Moors. A few companies of infantr}' which had not been regimented lay in garrison at Tilbun,^ Fort, at Ports- mouth, at Plymouth, and at some other important sta- tions on or near the coast. Since the beginning of the seventeenth centur}^ a great change had taken place in the arms of the in- fantry. The pike had been gradual!}' giving place to the musket ; and, at the close of the reign of Charles the Second, most of his foot were musketeers. Still, State of England in 1685 34^ however, there was a large intermixture of pikemen. Each class of troops was occasionally instructed in the use of the weapon which pecuHarly belonged to the other class. Every foot-soldier had at his side a sword for close fight. The musketeer was generally provided with a weapon w^hich had, during many years, been gradually coming into use, and which the English then called a dagger, but which from the time of William the Third, has been known among us by the French name of bayonet. The bayonet seems not to have been then so formidable an instrument of destruction as it has since become ; for it was inserted in the muzzle of the gun ; and in action much time was lost while the soldier unfixed his bayonet in order to fire, and fixed it again in order to charge. The dragoon, when dis- mounted, fought as a musketeer. The regular arm}^ which was kept up in England at the beginning of the year 1685 consisted, all ranks in- cluded, of about seven thousand foot, and about seven- teen hundred cavalry and dragoons. The whole charge amounted to about two hundred and ninety thousand pounds a year, less than a tenth part of what the mili- tary establishment of France then cost in time of peace. The daih' pay of a pri\'ate in the Life Guards was four shillings, in the Blues two shillings and sixpence, in the Dragoons eighteen-pence, in the Foot Guards tenpence, and in the line eightpence. The discipline was lax, and indeed could not be otherwise. The common law of England knew nothing of courts-martial, and made no distinction, in time of peace, between a soldier and any other subject ; nor could the government then venture to ask even the most loyal parliament for a Mutiny Bill. A soldier, therefore, by knocking down 342 History of England his colonel, incurred only the ordinary penalties of assault and battery, and by refusing to obey orders, by sleeping on guard, or by deserting his colors, incurred no legal penalty at all. Military punishments were doubtless inflicted during the reign of Charles the Second ; but they were inflicted very sparingly, and in such a manner as not to attract public notice, or to pro- duce an appeal to the courts of Westminster Hall. Such an army as has been described was not very likely to enslave five millions of Englishmen. It would indeed have been unable to suppress an insurrection in London, if the trainbands of the city had joined the in- surgents. Nor could the King expect that, if a rising took place in England, he would obtain effectual help from his other dominions. For, though both Scotland and Ireland supported separate military establishments, those establishments were not more than sufficient to keep down the Puritan malcontents of the former king- dom, and the Popish malcontents of the latter. The government had, however, an important militar}^ re- source which must not be left unnoticed. There were in the pay of the United Provinces six fine regiments, of which three had been raised in England and three in Scotland. Their native prince had reserved to him- self the power of recalling them, if he needed their help against a foreign or domestic enemy. In the meantime they were maintained without any charge to him, and were kept under an excellent discipline, to which he could not have ventured to subject them.' ' Most of the materials which I have used for this account of the regular army will be found in the Historical Records of Regiments, published by command of King William the Fourth, and under the direction of the adjutant-general. See also State of England in 1685 343 If the jealousy of the ParUament and of the nation made it impossible for the King to maintain a formid- The navy. ^^^^ Standing amiy, no similar impediment prevented him from making England the first of maritime powers. Both Whigs and Tories were ready to applaud every step tending to increase the efficiency of that force which, while it was the best pro- tection of the island against foreign enemies, was power- less against civil libert}'. All the greatest exploits achieved within the memory of that generation by English soldiers had been achieved in war against EngHsh princes. The victories of our sailors had been won over foreign foes, and had averted havoc and rapine from our own soil. By at least half the nation the battle of Naseby was remembered with horror, and the battle of Dunbar with pride checkered by many painful feehngs ; but the defeat of the Armada, and the encounters of Blake with the Hollanders and Spaniards, were recollected with unmixed exultation by all parties. Ever since the Restoration, the Commons, even when most discontented and most parsimonious, had always been bountiful to profusion where the interest of the nav}' was concerned. It had been represented to them, while Danby was minister, that many of the vessels in the royal fleet were old and unfit for sea ; and, although the House was, at that time, in no giving mood, an aid of near six hundred thousand pounds had been granted for the building of thirty new men-of-war. But the liberality of the nation had been made fruit- less by the vices of the government. The list of the Chamberlayne's State of England, 1684 ; Abridgement of the English Military Discipline, printed by especial command, 1685 ; Exercise of Foot, by their Majesties' command, 1690. 344 History of England King's ships, it is true, looked well. There were nine first-rates, fourteen second-rates, thirty-nine third-rates, and many smaller vessels. The first-rates, indeed, were less than the third-rates of our time ; and the third-rates would not now rank as ver}^ large frigates. This force, however, if it had been efiicient, would in those days have been regarded by the greatest poten- tate as formidable. But it existed only on paper. When the reign of Charles terminated, his navy had sunk into degradation and decay, such as would be almost incredible if it were not certified to us by the in- dependent and concurring evidence of witnesses whose authority is beyond exception. Pep3's, the ablest man in the English Admiralty, drew up, in the year 1684, a memorial on the state of his department, for the in- formation of Charles. A few months later Bonrepaux, the ablest man in the French Admiralty, having visited England for the especial purpose of ascertaining her maritime strength, laid the result of his inquiries be- fore Lewis. The two reports are to the same effect. Bonrepaux declared that he found everything in dis- order and in miserable condition, that the superiority of the French marine was acknowledged with shame and envy at Whitehall, and that the state of our ship- ping and dockyards was of itself a sufficient guarantee that we should not meddle in the disputes of Europe.' Pepys informed his master that the naval administration was a prodig}' of wastefulness, corruption, ignorance, and indolence, that no estimate could be trusted, that • I refer to a despatch of Bonrepaux to Seignelay, dated Feb. j?6, 1686. It was transcribed for Mr. Fox from the French archives, during the peace of Amiens, and, with the other ma- terials brought together by that great man, was intrusted to me State of England in 1685 345 no contract was perfonned, that no check was enforced. The vessels which the recent hberalit}- of ParHament had enabled the government to build, and which had never been out of harbor, had been made of such wretched timber that they were more unfit to go to sea than the old hulls which had been battered thirty years before by Dutch and Spanish broadsides. Some of the new men-of-war, indeed, were so rotten that, unless speedily repaired, the>' would go down at their moorings. The sailors were paid with so little punc- tuality that they were glad to find some usurer who would purchase their tickets at forty per cent, dis- count. The commanders who had not powerful friends at court were even worse treated. Some officers, to whom large arrears were due, after vainl}^ importuning the government during many years, had died for want of a morsel of bread. Most of the ships which were afloat were commanded by men who had not been bred to the sea. This, it is true, was not an abuse introduced by the government of Charles. No state, ancient or modern, had, before that time, made a complete separation between the naval and military services. In the great civilized nations of antiquity, Cimon and Lysander, Pompey and Agrippa, had fought battles b}- sea as well as by land. Nor had the impulse which nautical science received at the close of the fifteenth century produced any new division of labor. At Flodden the right wing of the by the kindness of the late Lady Holland, and of the present Lord Holland. I ought to add that, even in the midst of the troubles which have lately agitated Paris, I found no difficulty in obtaining, from the liberality of the functionaries there, ex- tracts supplying some chasms in Mr. Fox's collection (1S48). 34^ History of England victorious army was led by the admiral of England. At Jarnac and Moncontour the Huguenot ranks were marshalled by the admiral of France. Neither John of Austria, the conqueror of Lepanto, nor lyord Howard of Effingham, to whose direction the marine of England was confided when the Spanish invaders were approach- ing our shores, had received the education of a sailor. Raleigh, highly celebrated as a naval commander, had ser^'ed during many years as a soldier in France, the Netherlands, and Ireland. Blake had distinguished himself by his skilful and valiant defence of an inland town before he humbled the pride of Holland and of Castile on the ocean. Since the Restoration the same system had been followed. Great fleets had been in- trusted to the direction of Rupert and Monk ; Rupert, who was renowned chiefly as a hot and daring cavalry officer, and Monk, who, when he wished his ship to change her course, moved the mirth of his crew by call- ing out, " Wheel to the left ! " But about this time wise men began to perceive that the rapid improvement, both of the art of war and of the art of navigation, made it necessary to draw a line between two professions which had hitherto been confounded. Either the command of a regiment or the command of a ship was now a matter quite sufficient to occupy the attention of a single mind. In the 5'ear 1672 the French government determined to educate young men of good family from a ver}^ early age specially for the sea-service. But the English govern- ment, instead of following this excellent example, not only continued to distribute high naval commands among landsmen, but selected for such commands lands- men who, even on land, could not safely have been put Prince Riipert Siiminoning the Garrison of Leicester to Surrender From a drazin}ig by Throsby State of England in 1685 347 in any important trust. An}- lad of noble birth, any dissolute courtier for whom one of the King's mistresses would speak a word, might hope that a ship of the line, and with it the honor of the country and the lives of hundreds of brave men, would be committed to his care. It mattered not that he had never in his life taken a vo3'age except on the Thames, that he could not keep his feet in a breeze, that he did not know the difference between latitude and longitude. No previous training was thought necessar^^ ; or, at most, he was sent to make a short trip in a man-of-war, where he was sub- jected to no discipline, where he was treated with marked respect, and where he lived in a round of revels and amusements. If, in the interv-als of feasting, drink- ing, and gambling, he succeeded in learning the mean- ing of a few technical phrases and the names of the points of the compass, he was thought fully qualified to take charge of a three-decker. This is no imaginar^^ description. In 1666, John Sheffield, Earl of Mul- grave, at seventeen years of age, volunteered to sen'e at sea against the Dutch. He passed six weeks on board, diverting himself as well as he could in the society of some young libertines of rank, and then re- turned home to take the command of a troop of horse. After this he was never on the water till the year 1672, when he again joined the fleet, and was almost immedi- ately appointed captain of a ship of eighty-four guns, reputed the finest in the navy. He was then twenty- three years old, and had not, in the whole course of his life, been three months afloat. As soon as he came back from sea he was made colonel of a regiment of foot. This is a specimen of the manner in which naval commands of the highest importance were then given, 34S History of England and a very favorable specimen ; for Mulgrave, though he wanted experience, wanted neither parts nor cour- age. Others were promoted in the same wa}^ who not only were not good ofiScers, but who were intellectually and morally incapable of ever becoming good officers, and whose onl}^ recommendation was that they had been ruined by folly and vice. The chief bait which allured these men into the service was the profit of conveying bullion and other valuable commodities from port to port ; for both the Atlantic and the Mediter- ranean were then so much infested by pirates from Barbar}^ that merchants were not willing to trust precious cargoes to any custody but that of a man-of- war. A captain might thus clear several thousands of pounds by a short voyage ; and for this lucrative busi- ness he too often neglected the interests of his countr}^ and the honor of his flag, made mean submissions to foreign powers, disobeyed the most direct injunctions of his superiors, lay in port when he was ordered to chase a Sallee rover, or ran with dollars to lyCghorn when his instructions directed him to repair to I^isbon. And all this he did with impunity. The same interest which had placed him in a post for which he was unfit maintained him there. No admiral, bearded by these corrupt and dissolute minions of the palace, dared to do more than mutter something about a court-martial. If any officer showed a higher sense of duty than his fellows, he soon found that he lost money without acquiring honor. One captain, who, by strictl}^ obey- ing the orders of the Admiralty, missed a cargo which would have been worth four thousand pounds to him, was told by Charles, with ignoble levity, that he was a great fool for his pains. State of England in 1685 349 The discipline of the navy was of a piece throughout. As the courtly captain despised the Admiralty, ht was in turn despised by his crew. It could not be con- cealed that he was inferior in seamanship to every fore- mast man on board. It was idle to expect that old sailors, familiar with the hurricanes of the tropics and with the icebergs of the Arctic Circle, would pay prompt and respectful obedience to a chief who knew no more of winds and wa\'es than could be learned in a gilded barge between Whitehall Stairs and Hampton Court. To trust such a novice with the working of a ship was e\'idently impossible. The direction of the na\ngation was therefore taken from the captain and given to the master : but this partition of authority produced innumerable inconveniences. The line of de- marcation was not, and perhaps could not be, drawn with precision. There was, therefore, constant wrangling. The captain, confident in proportion to his ignorance, treated the master with lordly contempt. The master, well aware of the danger of disobliging the powerful, too often, after a struggle, yielded against his better judgment ; and it was well if the loss of ship and crew was not the consequence. In general the least mischievous of the aristocratical captains were those who completely abandoned to others the direction of the vessels, and thought only of making money and spending it. The way in which these men lived was so ostentatious and voluptuous that, greedy as they were of gain, they seldom became rich. They dressed as if for a gala at Versailles, ate off plate, drank the richest wines, and kept harems on board, while hunger and scurvy raged among the crews, and while corpses were daily flung out of the port-holes. 350 History of England Such was the ordinary character of those who were then called gentlemen captains. Mingled with them were to be found, happily for our country, naval com- manders of a very different description, men whose whole life had been passed on the deep, and who had worked and fought their way from the lowest offices of the forecastle to rank and distinction. One of the most eminent of these officers was Sir Christopher Mings, who entered the service as a cabin-boy, who fell fight- ing bravely against the Dutch, and whom his crew, weeping and vowing vengeance, carried to the grave. From him sprang, by a singular kind of descent, a line of valiant and expert sailors. His cabin-boy was Sir John Narborough ; and the cabin-boy of Sir John Nar- borough was Sir Cloudesley Shovel. To the strong natural sense and dauntless courage of this class of men England owes a debt never to be forgotten. It was by such resolute hearts that, in spite of much maladminis- tration, and in spite of the blunders and treasons of more courtly admirals, our coasts were protected and the reputation of our flag upheld during many gloomy and perilous years. But to a landsman these tarpaul- ins, as they were called, seemed a strange and half- savage race. All their knowledge was professional ; and their professional knowledge was practical rather than scientific. Off their own element they were as simple as children. Their deportment was uncouth. There was roughness in their very good-nature ; and their talk, where it was not made up of nautical phrases, was too commonly made up of oaths and curses. Such were the chiefs in whose rude school were formed those sturdy warriors from whom Smollett, in the next age, drew Lieutenant Bowling and Commodore Trunnion. State of England in 1685 351 But it does not appear that there was in the service of any of the Stuarts a single naval officer such as, accord- ing to the notions of our times, a naval officer ought to be ; that is to say, a man versed in the theory and practice of his calling, and steeled against all the dangers of battle and tempest, yet of cultivated mind and polished manners. There were gentlemen and there were seamen in the navy of Charles the Second. But the seamen were not gentlemen ; and the gentle- men were not seamen. The Knglish navy at that time might, according to the most exact estimates which have come down to us have been kept in an efficient state for three hundred and eight\' thousand pounds a 3'ear. Four hundred thou- sand pounds a 3'ear was the sum actually expended, but expended, as we have seen, to very little purpose. The cost of the French marine was nearly the same ; the cost of the Dutch marine considerably more.' The charge of the English ordnance in the seven- teenth century was, as compared with other military and naval charges, much smaller than at present. ^ INIy information respecting the condition of the navy at this time, is chiefly derived from Pepys. His report, presented to Charles the Second in May, 1684, has never, I believe, been printed. The manuscript is at Magdalene College, Cambridge. At Magdalene College is also a valuable manuscript containing a detailed account of the maritime establishments of the country in December, 1684. Pepys's Memoirs relating to the State of the Royal Naiy for Ten Years, determined December, 1688, and his diary and correspondence during his mission to Tangier, are in print. I have made large use of them. See also Sheffield's Memoirs, Teonge's Diary, Aubrey's Zz/^ of Monk, the Life of Sir Cloudesley Shovel, 1708, Commons'' Journals, March i and March 20, 168^. 35- History of England At most of the garrisons there were gunners ; and here and there, at an important post, an engineer was to be found. But there was no regiment of artillery, no brigade of sappers and miners, nance. no college in which young soldiers could learn the scientific part of the art of war. The difficulty of moving field-pieces was extreme. When, a few years later, William marched from Devonshire to lyondon, the apparatus which he brought with him, though such as had long been in constant use on the Continent, and such as would now be regarded at Woolwich as rude and cumbrous, excited in our ancestors an admiration resembling that which the Indians of America felt for the Castilian harquebusses. The stock of gunpowder kept in the English forts and arsenals was boastfully mentioned by patriotic writers as something which might well impress neighboring nations with awe. It amounted to fourteen or fifteen thousand barrels, about a twelfth of the quantity which it is now thought necessary to have in store. The expenditure under the head of ordnance was on an average a little above sixty thousand pounds a 3^ear.^ The whole effective charge of the army, navy, and ordnance, was about seven hundred and fift}^ thousand pounds. The non-effective charge, which Non-effective • t i. r i_i" i, j ^^ ^ IS now a heavy part oi our public burdens, can hardly be said to have existed. A very small number of naval officers, who were not employed in the public service, drew half-pay. No lieutenant ' Chamberlayne's S^a/e of England, 1684 ; Commons' Jour- nals^ March i and March 20, 168^. In 1833, it was determined, after full inquiry, that a hundred and seventy thousand barrels of gunpowder should constantly be kept in store. State of England in 1685 353 was on the list, nor any captain who had not com- manded a ship of the first or second rate. As the country then possessed only seventeen ships of the first and second rate that had ever been at sea, and as a large proportion of the persons who had commanded such ships had good posts on shore, the expenditure under this head must have been small indeed/ In the army, half-pay was given merely as a special and tem- porary allowance to a small number of officers belong- ing to two regiments, which were peculiarly situated." Greenwich hospital had not been founded. Chelsea hospital was building : but the cost of that institution was defrayed partly by a deduction from the pay of the troops, and partly by private subscription. The King promised to contribute only twenty thousand pounds for architectural expenses, and five thousand a 3'ear for the maintenance of the invalids.^ It was no part of the plan that there should be out-pensioners. The whole non-eflfective charge, military and naval, can scarcely have exceeded ten thousand pounds a year. It now exceeds ten thousand pounds a day. Of the expense of ci\^il government only a small por- tion was defrayed by the crown. The great majority of the functionaries whose business was to Charge of civil govern- administer justice and preserve order either ^^^^- gave their services to the public gratui- tously, or were remunerated in a manner which caused ' It appears from the records of the Admiralty, that flag-ofl5- cers were allowed half-pay in 1668, captains of first and second rates not till 1674. "^ Warrant in the War Ofl&ce Records, dated March 26, 1678. ■' Evelyn's Diary, Jan. 27, 1682. I have seen a privy seal, dated May 17, 1683, which confirms Evelyn's testimony. VOL. 1. — 23 354 History of England no drain on the revenue of the state. The sheriffs, mayors, and aldermen of the towns, the country gentle- men who were in the commission of the peace, the head- boroughs, bailiffs, and petty constables, cost the King nothing. The superior courts of law were chiefly supported by fees. Our relations with foreign courts had been put on the most economical footing. The onh^ diplomatic agent who had the title of ambassador resided at Con- stantinople, and was partly supported b^^ the Turke}^ Compan3^ Even at the court of Versailles England had only an envoy ; and she had not even an envoy at the Spanish, Swedish, and Danish courts. The whole expense under this head cannot, in the last year of the reign of Charles the Second, have much exceeded twenty thousand pounds.' In this frugality there was nothing laudable. Charles was, as usual, niggardly in the wrong place, and mu- , . nificent in the WTong place. The public Great gains a r r of ministers scrvicc was starvcd that courtiers might be and courtiers, pampered. The expense of the navy, of the ordnance, of pensions to needy old officers, of missions to foreign courts, must seem small indeed to the present generation. But the pensonal favorites of the sovereign, his ministers, and the creatures of those ministers, w^ere gorged with public mone3^ Their salaries and pen- sions, when compared with the incomes of the nobilit}', the gentry, the commercial and professional men of that age, will appear enormous. The greatest estates in the ' James the Second sent envoys to Spain, Sweden, and Den- mark ; yet in his reign the diplomatic expenditure was little more than 30,000/. a year. See the CoiuDions'' Journals, March 20, i6S;^. Chamberlayne's 5A7/(? ^^//.;p'/rt;/(3', 1684, 1687. State of England in 1685 355 kingdom then ver\' little exceeded twenty thousand a 3'ear. The Duke of Ormond had twenty-two thousand a year.^ The Duke of Buckingham, before his extrava- gance had impaired his great property, had nineteen thousand six hundred a year." George Monk, Duke of Albemarle, who had been rewarded for his eminent services with immense grants of crown land, and who had been notorious both for covetousness and for par- simon}-, left fifteen thousand a 3'ear of real estate, and sixty thousand pounds in mone3% which probabl}' 34elded seven per cent.^ These three dukes were sup- posed to be three of the very richest subjects in Eng- land. The Archbishop of Canterbury can hardly have had five thousand a year.' The average income of a temporal peer was estimated, by the best informed per- sons, at about three thousand a year, the average in- come of a baronet at nine hundred a year, the av-erage income of a member of the House of Commons at less than eight hundred a 3'ear.* A thousand a 3^ear was ^ Carte's Life of Ormond. ^ Pepys's Diary, Feb. 14, 166^. 3 See the Report of the Bath and Montague case, which was decided by Lord Keeper Somers, iu December, 1693. ^ During three quarters of a year, beginning from Christmas, 16S9, the revenues of the see of Canterbury were received by an officer appointed by the crown. That officer's accounts are now in the British Museum (Lansdowne MSS. S85). The gross revenue for the three quarters was not quite four thousand pounds ; and the difference between the gross and the net reve- nue was evidently something considerable. 5 King's Natural atid Political Conclusions. Davenant on the Balance of Trade. Sir W. Temple says, "The revenues of a House of Commons have seldom exceeded four hundred thou- sand pounds." Memoirs, Third Part. 35^ History of England thought a large revenue for a barrister. Two thousand a year was hardly to be made in the Court of King's Bench, except b}^ the crown lawj^ers.' It is evident, therefore, that an official man would have been well paid if he had received a fourth or fifth part of what would now be an adequate stipend. In fact, however, the stipends of the higher class of official men were as large as at present, and not seldom larger. The Lord Treasurer, for example, had eight thousand a 3^ear, and, when the Treasury was in commission, the junior Lords had sixteen hundred a year each. The Paymaster of the Forces had a poundage, amounting, in time of peace, to about five thousand a year, on all the money which passed through his hands. The Groom of the Stole had five thousand a year, the Commissioners of the Customs twelve hundred a year each, the Lords of the Bedchamber a thousand a year each.'^ The regular salar}^, however, was the smallest part of the gains of an official man of that age. From the nobleman who held the white staff and the great seal, down to the humblest tide-waiter and ganger, what w^ould now be called gross corruption was practised without disguise and without reproach. Titles, places, commissions, pardons, were daily sold in market ovtrt b}^ the great dignitaries of the realm ; and every clerk in ever}^ de- partment imitated, to the best of his power, the evil example. During the last century no prime minister, however powerful, has become rich in office ; and several prime ministers have impaired their private fortune in sus- ' Langton's Conversations with Chief-justice Hale, 1672. '^ Commons' Journals, April 27, 1689 ; Chaniberlayne's State of England, 1684. State of England in 1685 357 taining their public character. In the seventeenth century, a statesman who was at the head of alffairs might easily, and without giving scandal, accumulate in no long time an estate amply sufficient to support a dukedom. It is probable that the income of the prime minister, during his tenure of power, far exceeded that of any other subject. The place of Lord-lieutenant of Ireland was popularly reported to be worth forty thou- sand pounds a year.' The gains of the Chancellor Clarendon, of Arlington, of Lauderdale, and of Danby, were certainly enormous. The sumptuous palace to which the populace of London gave the name of Dun- kirk House, the stately pavilions, the fi.sh-ponds, the deer-park and the orangery of Euston, the more than Italian luxury of Ham, with its busts, fountains, and aviaries, were among the many .signs which indicated what was the shortest road to boundless wealth. This is the true explanation of the unscrupulous violence with which the statesmen of that day struggled for office, of the tenacity with which, in spite of vexations, humiliations, and dangers, they clung to it, and of the scandalous compliances to which they .stooped in order to retain it. Even in our own age, formidable as is the power of opinion, and high as is the standard of in- tegrity, there would be great risk of a lamentable change in the character of our public men, if the place of First Lord of the Treasury or Secretary of State were worth a hundred thousand pounds a year. Happily for our country, the emoluments of the highest class of functionaries have not only not grown in proportion to the general growth of our opulence, but have posi- tively diminished. ' See the Travels of the Grand Duke Cosmo. 35^ History of England The fact that the sum raised in England by taxation has, in a time not exceeding two long lives, been multi- plied forty-fold, is strange, and ma>' at first ta eo agn- ^jg^j^|- gg^jj-^ appalling. But those who are culture. '-' t f b alarmed b}- the increase of the public burdens may perhaps be reassured when they have considered the increase of the public resources. In the >ear 16S5, the value of the produce of the soil far exceeded the value of all the other fruits of human industry. Yet agricul- ture was in what would now be considered as a very rude and imperfect state. The arable land and pasture land were not supposed by the best political arithme- ticians of that age to amount to much more than half the area of the kingdom.' The remainder was believed to consist of moor, forest, and fen. These computations are strongly confirmed by the road books and maps of the seventeenth centur>-. From those books and maps it is clear that man}- routes which now pass through an endless succession of orchards, corn-fields, hay-fields, and bean-fields, then ran through nothing but heath, swamp, and warren.'^ In the drawings of English landscapes made in that age for the Grand Duke Cosmo, ' King's Natural and Political Conclusions. Davenant on the Balance of Trade. * See the Itinoariuni Aui^lics, 1675, by John Ogilby, Cos- mographer Royal. He describes great part of the land as wood, fen, heath on both sides, marsh on both sides. In some of his maps the roads through enclosed country are marked by lines, and the roads through unenclosed country bv dots. The pro- portion of unenclosed country', which, if cultivated, must have been wretchedly cultivated, seems to have been very great. From Abingdon to Gloucester, for example, a distance of forty or fifty miles, there was not a single enclosure, and scarcely one enclosure between Bi''L'leswa- Flemish mares, which trotted, as it was thought, with a peculiar grace, and endured better than any cattle reared in our island the work of dragging a ponderous equipage over the rugged pave- ment of London. Neither the modern dray-horse nor the modern race-horse was then known. At a much later period the ancestors of the gigantic quadrupeds, which all foreigners now class among the chief wonders of London, were brought from the marshes of Wal- cheren ; the ancestors of Childers and Eclipse from the sands of Arabia. Alread}-, however, there was among our nobility and gentry a passion for the amusements of the turf. The importance of improA'ing our studs b}' an infusion of new blood was strongh' felt ; and with this view a considerable number of barbs had lately been brought into the country. Two men whose authority on such subjects was held in great esteem, the Duke of Newcastle and Sir John Fenwick, pro- nounced that the meanest hack ever imported from Tangier would produce a finer progeny than could be expected from the best sire of our native breed. They would not readily have believed that a time would come when the princes and nobles of neighboring lands ' See Mr. M'Culloch's Statistical Account of the British Em- pire, Part III., Chap, i., Sec. 6. 364 History of England would be as eager to obtain horses from England as ever the English had been to obtain horses from Barbary.' The increase of vegetable and animal produce, though great, seems small when compared with the ,-. , increase of our mineral wealth. In i68s Mineral ^ wealth of the the tin of Comwall, which had, more than country. ^^^^ thousaud ycars before, attracted the Tyrian sails beyond the pillars of Hercules, was still one of the most valuable subterranean productions of the island. The quantity annually extracted from the earth was found to be, some years later, sixteen hun- dred tons, probably about a third of what it now is.' But the veins of copper which lie in the same region were, in the time of Charles the Second, altogether neglected, nor did any land-owner take them into the account in estimating the value of his property. Corn- wall and Wales at present yield annually near fifteen thousand tons of copper, worth near a million and a half sterling ; that is to say, worth about twice as much as the annual produce of all English mines of all de- scriptions in the seventeenth century.^ The first bed of rock-salt had been discovered in Cheshire not long after the Restoration, but does not appear to have been ' King and Daveuant as before ; The Duke of Newcastle on Horsemanship; Gentleman'' s Recreation, 16S6, The "dappled Flanders mares" were marks of greatness in the time of Pope, and even later. The vulgar proverb, that the gray mare is the better horse, originated, I suspect, in the preference generally given to the gray mares of Flanders over the finest coach horses of England. ^ See a curious note by Tonkin, in Ivord De Dunstanville's edition of Carew's Survey of Corn7vall. * Borlase's Natural History of Cornwall, 1758. The quantity of copper now produced I have taken from parliamentary re- State of England in 1685 3^5 worked till much later. The salt, which was obtained by a rude process from brine pits, was held in no high estimation. The pans in which the manufacture was carried on exhaled a sulphureous stench ; and, when the evaporation was complete, the substance which was left was scarceh' fit to be used with food. Physicians attributed the scorbutic and pulmonary complaints which were common among the English to this un- wholesome condiment. It was, therefore, seldom used by the upper and middle classes ; and there was a regu- lar and considerable importation from France. At present our springs and mines not only supply our own immense demand, but send annually more than seven hundred millions of pounds of excellent salt to foreign countries.' Far more important has been the improvement of our iron-works. Such works had long exisited in our island, but had not prospered, and had been regarded with no favorable eye by the government and by the public. It was not then the practice to employ coal for smelting the ore ; and the rapid consumption of wood excited the alarm of politicians. As early as the reign of Elizabeth there had been loud complaints that whole forests were cut down for the purpose of feeding the furnaces ; and the Parliament had interfered to prohibit the manufacturers from burning timber. The manufacture consequently languished. At the close of the reign of Charles the Second, great part of the iron turns. Davenant, in 1700, estimated the annual produce of all the mines of England at between, seven and eight hundred thousand pounds. ^Philosophical Transactions, No, 53, Nov., 1669; No. 66, Dec, 1670; No. 103, May, 1674; No. 156, Feb., i68f. J 66 History of England which was used in this country was imported from abroad ; and the whole quantity cast here annually seems not to have exceeded ten thousand tons. At present the trade is thought to be in a depressed state if less than a million of tons are produced in a 3^ear.' One mineral, perhaps more important than iron itself, remains to be mentioned. Coal, though very little used in any species of manufacture, was already the ordinary fuel in some districts which were fortunate enough to possess large beds, and in the capital, which could easily be supplied by water carriage. It seems reasonable to believe that at least one half of the quantity then extracted from the pits was consumed in London. The consumption of London seemed to the writers of that age enormous, and was often mentioned by them as a proof of the greatness of the imperial city. The}' scarcely hoped to be believed when they affirmed that two hundred and eighty thousand chaldrons, that is to say, about three hundred and fifty thousand tons, were, in the last year of the reign of Charles the Second, brought to the Thames. At present three millions and a half of tons are required yearly by the metropolis ; and the whole annual produce "^ cannot, on ' Yarranton, England's Improveynoit by Sea and Land, 1677 ; Porter's Progress of the Nation. See also a remarkably perspicuoushistory, iu small compass, of the English iron-works, in Mr. M'Cnlloch's Statistical Account of the British Empire. ■ See Chamberlayne's State of England, 1684, 1687 ; Anglic I\retropolis, 1691 ; M'Cnlloch's Statistical Account of the Brit- ish Empire, Part III., Chap. ii. (edition of 1847). In 1845 the quantity of coal brought into London appeared, by the parlia- mentary returns, to be 3,460,000 tons (1848). In 1854 the quantity of coal brought into Loudon amounted to 4,378,000 tons (1857). state of England in 1685 367 the most moderate computation, be estimated at less than thirty miUions of tons. While these great changes had been in progress, the rent of land has, as might be expected, been almost constantly rising. In some districts it has Increase of ^^^ ^• i , ^ ^ rent. multiplied more than ten-fold. In some it has not more than doubled. It has prob- ably, on the average, quadrupled. Of the rent, a large proportion was divided among the country gentlemen, a class of persons whose position and character it is most important that we should clearly understand; for by their influence and by their passions the fate of the nation was, at several important con- junctures, determined. We should be much mistaken if we pictured to our- selves the squires of the seventeenth century as men bearing a close resemblance to their de- gentieme^n.*^^ sccudauts, tlic county members and chair- men of quarter-sessions with whom we are familiar. The modern countr}- gentleman generally receives a liberal education, passes from a distin- guished school to a distinguished college, and has ample opportunity to become an excellent scholar. He has generally seen something of foreign countries. A con- siderable part of his life has generally been passed in the capital ; and the refinements of the capital follow him into the country. There is perhaps no class of dwell- ings so pleasing as the rural seats of the English gentr}'. In the parks and pleasure-grounds, nature, dressed 3'et not disguised by art, wears her most alluring form. In the buildings, good sense and good taste combine to produce a happy union of the comfort- able and the graceful. The pictures, the musical in- 36S History of England struments, the library, would in any other country be considered as proving the owner to be an eminently polished and accomplished man. A country gentleman who witnessed the Revolution was probably in receipt of about a fourth part of the rent which his acres now jaeld to his posterity. He was, therefore, as compared with his posteritj^ a poor man, and was generally under the necessity of residing, with little interruption, on his estate. To travel on the Continent, to maintain an establishment in London, or even to visit lyondon fre- quently, were pleasures in which only the great pro- prietors could indulge. It may be confidently affirmed that of the squires whose names were then in the com- missions of peace and lieutenancy not one in twenty went to town once in five years, or had ever in his life wandered so far as Paris. Many lords of manors had received an education differing little from that of their menial servants. The heir of an estate often passed his boyhood and youth at the seat of his family with no better tutors than grooms and game-keepers, and scarce attained learning enough to sign his name to a Mittimus. If he went to school and to college, he gen- erally returned before he was twenty to the seclusion of the old hall, and there, unless his mind were very happily con.stituted by nature, soon forgot his academi- cal pursuits in rural business and pleasures. His chief serious employment was the care of his propert3^ He examined samples of grain, handled pigs, and, on market-days, made bargains over a tankard with drovers and hop merchants. His chief pleasures were commonly derived from field-sports and from an unre- fined sensuality. His language and pronunciation were such as we should now expect to hear only from State of England in 1685 369 the most ignorant clowns. His oaths, coarse jests, and scurrilous terms of abuse, were uttered with the broad- est accent of his province. It was easy to discern, from the first words which he spoke, whether he came from Somersetshire or Yorkshire. He troubled himself little about decorating his abode, and, if he attempted decoration, seldom produced anything but deformity. The litter of a farm-yard gathered under the windows of his bedchamber, and the cabbages and gooseberry- bushes grew close to his hall door. His table was loaded with coarse plenty ; and guests were cordially welcomed to it. But, as the habit of drinking to excess was general in the class to which he belonged, and as his fortune did not enable him to intoxicate large as- semblies daily with claret or canary, strong beer was the ordinary beverage. The quantity of beer consumed was indeed enormous. For beer then was, to the mid- dle and lower classes, not only all that beer now is, but all that wine, tea, and ardent spirits now are. It was only at great houses, or on great occasions, that foreign drink was placed on the board. The ladies of the house, whose business it had commonly been to cook the repast, retired as soon as the dishes had been de- voured, and left the gentlemen to their ale and tobacco. The coarse jollity of the afternoon was often prolonged till the revellers were laid under the table. It was \er\' seldom that the country gentleman caught glimpses of the great world ; and what he saw of it tended rather to confuse than to enlighten his understanding. His opinions respecting religion, gov- ernment, foreign countries, and former times having been derived, not from study, from obser\'ation, or from conversation with enlightened companions, but from VOL. I. — ::4 370 History of England such traditions as were current in his own small circle, were the opinions of a child. He adhered to them, however, with the obstinacy which is generally found in ignorant men accustomed to be fed with flattery. His animosities were numerous and bitter. He hated Frenchmen and Italians, Scotchmen and Irishmen; Papists and Presbyterians, Independents and Baptists, Quakers and Jews. Toward I^ondon and Londoners he felt an aversion which more than once produced important political effects. His wife and daughter were, in tastes and acquirements, below a house-keeper or a still-room maid of the present day. Thc}^ stitched and spun, brewed gooseberry wine, cured marigolds, and made the crust for the venison pasty. From this description it might be supposed that the English esquire of the seventeenth centur}^ did not materially differ from a rustic miller or ale-house keeper of our time. There are, however, some important parts of his character still to be noted, which will greatl}^ modif}^ this estimate. Unlettered as he was and un- polished, he was still in some most important points a gentleman. He was a meml)er of a proud and power- ful aristocrac3^ and was distinguished b}' many both of the good and of the bad qualities which belong to aristocrats. His family pride was beyond that of a Talbot or a Howard. He knew the genealogies and coats of arms of all his neighbors, and could tell which of them had assumed supporters without any right, and which of them wt-re .so unfortunate as to be great- grandsons of aldermen. He was a magistrate, and, as such, administered gratuitously to those who dwelt around him a rude patriarchal justice, which, in spite of innumerable blunders and of occasional acts of state of Hngland in 1685 3^^ tyranny, was yet better than no justice at all. He was an officer of the trainbands ; and his military dignity, though it might move the mirth of gallants who had ser\^ed a campaign in Flanders, raised his character in his own eyes and in the eyes of his neighbors. Nor indeed was his soldiership justly a subject of derision. In every county there were elderly gentlemen who had seen ser\'ice which was no child's play. One had been knighted by Charles the First, after the battle of Edge- hill. Another still wore a patch over the scar which he had received at Naseby. A third had defended his old house till Fairfax had blown in the door with a petard. The presence of these old Cavaliers, with their old swords and holsters, and with their old stories about Goring and I^unsford, gave to the musters of militia an earnest and warlike aspect which would otherwise have been wanting. Kven those country gentlemen who were too young to have themselves exchanged blows with the cuirassiers of the Parliament had, from childhood, been surrounded by the traces of recent war, and fed with stories of the martial exploits of their fathers and uncles. Thus the character of the English esquire of the seventeenth centur^^ was compounded of two elements which we seldom or never find united. His ignorance and uncouthness, his low tastes and gross phrases, would, in our time, be considered as indicating a nature and a breeding thoroughly plebeian. Yet he was essentially patrician, and had, in large measure, both the virtues and the vices which flourish among men set from their birth in high place, and used to re- spect themselves and to be respected b}- others. It is not easy for a generation accustomed to find chivalrous sentiments only in company with liberal studies and History of England polished manners to image to itself a man with the de- portment, the vocabular}', and the accent of a carter, yet punctilious on matters of genealogy and precedence, and ready to risk his life rather than see a stain cast on the honor of his house. It is, however, only b}'- thus joining together things seldom or never found to- gether in our own experience that we can form a just idea of that rustic aristocracy which constituted the main strength of the armies of Charles the First, and which long supported, with strange fidelity, the inter- est of his descendants. The gross, uneducated, untravelled country gentle- man was commonly a Tory : but, though devotedly attached to hereditary monarchy, he had no partiality for courtiers and ministers. He thought, not without reason, that Whitehall was filled with the most corrupt of mankind, and that of the great sums which the House of Commons had voted to the crown since the Restoration part had been embezzled by cunning poli- ticians, and part squandered on buffoons and foreign courtesans. His stout English heart swelled with in- dignation at the thought that the government of his country should be subject to French dictation. Being himself generally an old Cavalier, or the son of an old Cavalier, he reflected with bitter resentment on the in- gratitude with which the Stuarts had requited their best friends. Those who heard him grumble at the neglect with which he was treated, and at the pro- fusion with which wealth was lavished on the bastards of Nell Gw3ain and Madam Carwell, would have sup- posed him ripe for rebellion. But all this ill humor lasted only till the throne was really in danger. It was rireciselv when those whom the sovereign had loaded state ol Jbngland in 1685 ^7^ with wealth and honors shrank from his side that the country gentleman, so surly and mutinous in the season of his prosperit>', rallied round him in a body. Thus, after murmuring twenty years at the misgovernment of Charles the Second, they came to his rescue in his extremity, when his own secretaries of state and the lords of his own treasury had deserted him, and enabled him to gain a complete victory over the Oppo- sition ; nor can there be any doubt that they would have shown equal loyalty to his brother James, if James would, even at the last moment, have refrained from outraging their strongest feeling. For there was one institution, and one only, which they prized even more than hereditary monarchy ; and that institution was the Church of England. Their love of the Church was not, indeed, the effect of study cJT'^ieditation. Few among them could have given any reason, drawn from Scripture or ecclesiastical history, for adhering to her doctrines, her ritual, and her polity ; nor were they, as a class, by any means strict observers of that code of morality which is common to all Christian sects. But the experience of many ages proves that men may be ready to fight to the death, and to persecute without pity, for a religion whose creed they do not understand, and whose precepts they habitually disobey.' The rural clergy were even more vehement in Tory- isim than the rural gentry, and w^ere a class scarcely less important. It is to be observed, however, that ' Mv notion of the country gentleman of the seventeenth century has been derived from sources too numerous to be recapitulated. I must leave my description to the judgment of those who have studied the history and the lighter literature of that age. 374 History of England the individual clergyman, as compared with the indi- vidual gentleman, then ranked much lower than in our days. The main support of the Church was ergy. ^^gj-j^.^^j from the tithe ; and the tithe bore to the rent a much smaller ratio than at present. King estimated the whole income of the parochial and col- legiate clergy at only four hundred and eight}^ thousand pounds a year ; Davenant at only five hundred and forty-four thousand a year. It is certainly now more than seven times as great as the larger of these two sums. The average rent of the land has not, according to any estimate, increased proportionally. It follows that the rectors and vicars must have been, as com- pared with the neighboring knights and squires, much poorer in the seventeenth than in the nineteenth century. The place of the clergyman in society had been com- pletely changed by the Reformation. Before that event, ecclesiastics had formed the majority of the House of lyords, had, in wealth and splendor, equalled, and sometimes outshone, the greatest of the temporal barons, and had generally held the highest civil offices. Many of the treasurers, and almost all the chancellors of the Plantagenets, were bishops. The Lord Keeper of the Priv}' Seal and the Master of the Rolls were ordinarily Churchmen. Churchmen transacted the most important diplomatic business. Indeed, all that large portion of the administration which rude and war- like nobles were incompetent to conduct was considered as especially belonging to divines. Men, therefore, who were averse to the life of camps, and who were, at the same time, desirous to rise in the state, commonly received the tonsure. Among them were sons of all State of England in 1685 375 the most illustrious families, and near kiasmeii of the throne — Scroops and Nevilles, Bourchiers, Stafifords and Poles. To the religious houses belonged the rents of immense domains, and all that large portion of the tithe which is now in the hands of laymen. Down to the middle of the reign of Henry the Eighth, therefore, no line of life was so attractive to ambitious and covet- ous natures as the priesthood. Then came a violent revolution. The abolition of the monasteries deprived the Church at once of the greater part of her wealth, and of her predominance in the Upper House of Parlia- ment. There was no longer an Abbot of Glastonbury or an Abbot of Reading seated among the peers, and possessed of revenues equal to those of a powerful earl. The princely splendor of William of Wykeham and of William of Waynflete had disappeared. The scarlet hat of the cardinal, the silver cross of the legate, were no more. The clergy had also lost the ascendency which is the natural reward of superior mental cultiva- tion. Once the circumstance that a man could read had raised a presumption that he was in orders. But, in an age w^hich produced such laymen as William Cecil and Nicholas Bacon, Roger Ascham and Thomas Smith, Walter Mildmay and Francis Walsingham, there was no reason for calling away prelates from their dioceses to negotiate treaties, to superintend the finances, or to administer justice. The spiritual character not only ceased to be a qualification for high civil office, but be- gan to be regarded as a disqualification. Those worldly motives, therefore, which had formerly induced so many able, aspiring, and high-born youths to assume the ecclesiastical habit, ceased to operate. Not one parish in two hundred then afforded what a man of family con- Z7^ History of England sidered as a maintenance. There were still indeed prizes in the Church : but they were few ; and even the highest were mean, when compared with the glory which had once surrounded the princes of the hierarchy. The state kept by Parker and Grindal seemed beggarly to those who remembered the imperial pomp of Wolsey, his palaces, which had become the favorite abode of royalty, Whitehall and Hampton Court, the three sumptuous tables dail}' spread in his refectory, the forty-four gorgeous copes in his chapel, his running footmen in rich liveries, and his body-guards with gilded pole-axes. Thus the sacerdotal office lost its attraction for the higher classes. During the century which followed the accession of Elizabeth, scarce a single person of noble descent took orders. At the close of the reign of Charles the Second, two sons of peers were bishops ; four or five sons of peers were priests, and held valuable preferment ; but these rare exceptions did not take away the reproach which' lay on the body. The clergy were regarded as, on the whole, a plebeian class.' And, indeed, for one who made the figure of a gentleman, ten were mere menial servants. A large proportion of those divines who had no benefices, or whose benefices were too small to afford ' lu the eighteenth century the great increase in the value of benefices produced a change. The younger sons of the no- bility were allured back to the clerical profession. Warburton, in a letter to Hurd, dated the 5th of July, 1752, mentions this change, which was then recent. " Our grandees Bave at last found their way back into the Church. I only wonder they have been so long about it. But be assured that nothing but a new religious revolution, to sweep away the fragments that Henry the Eighth left after banqueting his courtiers, will drive them out again." State of England in 1685 3/7 a comfortable revenue, lived in the houses of laymen. It had long been evident that this practice tended to degrade the priestly character. Laud had exerted ^ himself to effect a change ; and Charles the First had repeatedly issued positive orders that none but men of high rank should presume to keep domestic chaplains.' But these injunctions had become obsolete. Indeed, during the domination of the Puritans, many of the ejected ministers of the Church of England could obtain bread and shelter only by attaching themselves to the households of Ro^^alist gentlemen ; and the habits •which had been formed in those times of trouble con- tinued long after the re-establishment of monarchy and episcopacy. In the mansions of men of liberal senti- ments and cultivated understandings, the chaplain v^^as doubtless treated with urbanit>' and kindness. His conversation, his literary assistance, his spiritual advice, were considered as an ample return for his food, his lodging, and his stipend. But this was not the general feeling of the country- gentlemen. The coarse and ignorant squire, who thought that it belonged to his dignity to have grace said every day at his table by an ecclesiastic in full canonicals, found means to reconcile dignity with economy-. A young Levite — such was the phrase then in use — might be had for his board, a small garret, and ten pounds a year, and might not only per- form his own professional functions, might not only be the most patient of butts and of Hsteners, might not only be always ready in fine weather for bowls, and in rainy weather for shovel-board, but might also save the expense of a gardener or of a groom. Sometimes the reverend man nailed up the apricots ; and sometimes ' See Heyhn's Cyprianus Anglicus. 37^ History of England he curried the coach-horses. He cast up the farrier's bills. He walked ten ruiles with a message or a parcel. He was permitted to dine with the family ; but he was expected to content himself with the plainest fare. He might fill himself with the corned beef and the carrots : but, as soon as the tarts and cheese-cakes made their appearance, he quitted his seat, and stood aloof till he was summoned to return thanks for the repast, from a great part of which he had been excluded.' Perhaps, after some years of service, he was presented to a living sufficient to support him : but he often found it necessary to purchase his preferment by a species of Simony, which furnished an inexhaustible subject of pleasantry to three or four generations of scoffers. With his cure he was expected to take a wife. The wife had ordinarily been in the patron's service ; and it was well if she was not suspected of standing too high in the patron's favor. Indeed, the nature of the matri- monial connections which the clerg^anen of that age were in the habit of forming is the most certain indica- tion of the place which the order held in the social sys- tem. An Oxonian, writing a few months after the death of Charles the Second, complained bitterly not only that the country attorney and the countr}^ apothecary looked down with disdain on the country clergyman, but that one of the lessons most earnestly inculcated on every girl of honorable family was to give no en- couragement to a lover in orders, and that, if any ' Eachard, Causes of the Contempt of the Clergy ; Oldham, Satire addressed to a Friend about to leave the University ; Tatter, 255, 258. That the Eni^lish clergy were a low-born class, is remarked in the Travels of the Grand Duke Cosmo, Appendix A. State of England in 1685 379 young lady forgot this precept, she was almost as much disgraced as by an illicit amour.' Clarendon, who as- suredly bore no ill will to the priesthood, mentions it as a sign of the confusion of ranks which the great rebellion had produced, that some damsels of noble fami- lies had bestowed themselves on divines.' A waiting- woman was generally considered as the most suitable helpmate for a parson. Queen Elizabeth, as head of the Church, had given what seemed to be a formal sanction to this prejudice, by issuing special orders that no clergy-man should presume to espouse a ser\'ant-girl, without the consent of the master or mistress.'' During several generations, accordingly, the relation between divines and handmaidens was a theme for endless jest; nor would it be easy to find, in the comedy- of the seventeenth centun,-, a single instance of a clergyman who wins a spouse above the rank of a cook." Even so late as the time of George the Second, the keenest of all observers of life and manners, himself a priest, re- ' "A causidico, medicastro, ipsaque artificum farragine, ec- clesiae rector aut vicarius contetnnitur et fit ludibrio. Gentis et familiae nitor sacris ordinibus poUutus censetur : foeminisque natalitio insignibus unicum inculcatur saepius prseceptum, ne modestiae naufragium faciant, aut (quod idem auribus tarn deli- catulis sonat), ne clerico se nuptas dari patiantur." — A)igli(Z Notitia, by T. Wood, of New College, Oxford, r686. ^ Clarendon's Life, ii., 21. ^ See the Injunctions of 1559, in Bishop Sparrow's Collection. Jeremy Collier, in his Essay on Pride, speaks of this injunction ■with a bitterness which proves that his own pride had not been effectually tamed. " Roger and Abigail in Fletcher's Scornful Lady, Bull and the Nurse in Vanbrugh's Relapse, Smirk and Susan in Shad- well's Lancashire Witches, are instances. 380 History of England marked that, in a great household, the chaplain was the resource of a lady's maid whose character had been blown upon, and who was therefore forced to give up hopes of catching the steward.' In general the divine who quitted his chaplainship for a benefice and a wife found that he had only ex changed one class of vexations for another. Hardly one living in fifty enabled the incumbent to bring up a family comfortably. As children multiplied and grew, the household of the priest became more and more beggarly. Holes appeared more and more plainly in the thatch of his parsonage and in his single cassock. Often it was only by toiling on his glebe, by feeding swine, and by loading dung-carts, that he could obtain daily bread ; nor did his utmost exertions always pre- vent the bailiffs from taking his concordance and his inkstand in execution. It was a white day on which he was admitted into the kitchen of a great house, and regaled by the servants with cold meat and ale. His children were brought up like the children of the neighboring peasantry. His boys followed the plough ; and his girls went out to service." Study he found im- possible ; for the advowson of his living v/ould hardh^ ' Swift's Directions to Servants. In Swift's Remarks on the Clerical Residence Bill, be describes the family of an English vicar thus : " His wife is little better than a Goody, in her birth, education, or dress. . . . His daughters shall go to service, or be sent apprentice to the sempstress of the next town." ^ Even in Tom Jones, published two generations later, Mrs. Seagrim, the wife of a game-keeper, and Mrs. Honour, a wait- ing-woman, boast of their descent from clergymen. " It is to be hoped," says Fielding, " such instances will in future ages, when some provision is made for the families of the inferior clergy, appear stranger than they can be thought at present." State of England in 1685 381 have sold for a sum sufficient to purchase a good theo- logical library ; and he might be considered as un- usually lucky if he had ten or twelve dog-eared volumes among the pots and pans on his shelves. Even a keen and strong intellect might be expected to rust in so un- favorable a situation. Assuredly there was at that time no lack in the Eng- lish Church of ministers distinguished by abilities and learning. But it is to be observed that these ministers were not scattered among the rural population. They were brought together at a few places where the means of acquiring knowledge w^ere abundant, and where the opportunities of vigorous intellectual exer- cise were frequent.' At such places were to be found divines qualified by parts, by eloquence, by wide knowledge of literature, of science, and of life, to de- fend their Church victoriously against heretics and sceptics, to command the attention of frivolous and worldly congregations, to guide the deliberations of senates, and to make religion respectable, even in the most dissolute of courts. Some labored to fathom the abysses of metaphysical theology ; some were deeply versed in Biblical criticism ; and some threw light on the darkest parts of ecclesiastical history. Some proved themselves consummate masters of logic. Some culti- vated rhetoric with such assiduity and success that their discourses are still justly valued as models of style. These eminent men were to be found, with scarcely a single exception, at the universities, at the ' This distinction between country clergy and town clergy is strongly marked by Eachard, and cannot but be observed by every person who has studied the ecclesiastical history of that age. 382 History of England great cathedrals, or in the capital. Barrow had lately died at Cambridge, and Pearson had gone thence to the episcopal bench. Cudworth and Henry More were still living there. South and Pocoke, Jane and Aldrich, were at Oxford. Prideaux was in the close of Norwich, and Whitby in the close of Salisbury. But it was chiefl}^ by the I^ondon clergy, who were alwa\'s spoken of as a class apart, that the fame of their profession for learning and eloquence was upheld. The principal pulpits of the metropolis were occupied about this time b}^ a crowd of distinguished men, from among whom was selected a large proportion of the rulers of the Church. Sherlock preached at the Temple, Tillotson at Lincoln's Inn, Wake and Jeremy Collier at Gray's Inn, Burnet at the Rolls, Stillingfleet at Saint Paul's Cathedral, Patrick at Saint Paul's in Covent Garden, Fowler at Saint Giles's, Cripplegate, Sharp at Saint Giles's in the Fields, Tenison at Saint Martin's, Sprat at Saint Margaret's, Beveridge at Saint Peter's in Cornhill. Of these twelve men, all of high note in ecclesiastical history, ten became bishops, and four arch- bishops. Meanwhile almost the only important theo- logical works which came forth from a rural parsonage were those of George Bull, afterward Bishop pf Saint David's ; and Bull never would have produced those works, had he not inherited an estate, by the sale of which he was enabled to collect a library, such as prob- ably no other clergyman in England possessed.' Thus the Anglican priesthood was divided into -two ' Nelson's Life of Bull. As to the extreme difficulty wbich the country clergy found in procuring books, see the Life of Thomas Bray, the founder of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. State of England in 1685 383 sections, which, in acquirements, in manners, and in social position, differed widely from each other. One section, trained for cities and courts, comprised men familiar with all ancient and modern learning — men able to encounter Hobbes or Bossuet at all the weapons of controversy ; men who could, in their sermons, set forth the niajest>' and beauty of Christianity with such justness of thought and such energy of language, that the indolent Charles roused himself to listen, and the fastidious Buckingham forgot to sneer ; men whose address, politeness, and knowledge of the world quali- fied them to manage the consciences of the wealthy and noble ; men with whom Halifax loved to discuss the interests of empires, and from whom Dry den was not ashamed to own that he had learned to write.' The other section was destined to ruder and humbler ser- vice. It was dispersed over the countrj^ and consisted chiefly of persons not at all wealthier, and not much more refined, than small farmers or upper servants. Yet it was in these rustic priests, who derived but a scanty subsistence from their tithe sheaves and tithe pigs, and who had not the smallest chance of ever attaining high professional honors, that the profes.sional spirit was strongest. Among those divines who were the boast of the universities and the delight of the capital, and who had attained, or might reasonably expect to attain, opulence and lordly rank, a party, re- spectable in numbers, and more respectable in charac- ter, leaned toward constitutional principles of govern- ' "I have frequently heard him (Dryden) owu with pleasure that if he had any talent for English prose, it was owing to his having often read the writings of the great Archbishop Tillot- son."— Congreve's Dedication of Drydeu's Plays. o 84 History of England ment, lived on friendly terms with Presbyterians, Independents," and Baptists, would gladly have seen a full toleration granted to all Protestant sects, and would even have consented to make alterations in the Liturgy for the purpose of conciliating honest and can- did Non-conformists. But such latitudinarianism w^as held in horror by the country parson. He took, in- deed, more pride in his ragged gown than his superiors in their lawn and their scarlet hoods. The very con- sciousness that there was little in his worldly circum- stances to distinguish him from the villagers to whom he preached led him to hold immoderatel}^ high the dignity of that sacerdotal office which was his single title to reverence. Having lived in seclusion and having had little opportunity of correcting his opinions by read- ing or conversation, he held and taught the doctrines of indefeasible hereditary right, of passive obedience, and of non-resistance, in all their crude absurdity. Having been long engaged in a petty war against the neigh- boring dissenters, he too often hated them for the wrong which he had done them, and found no fault with the Five Mile Act and the Conventicle Act, except that those odious laws had not a sharper edge. Whatever influence his office gave him was exerted with passion- ate zeal on the Tory side ; and that influence was im- mense. It would be a great error to imagine, because the countr}^ rector was in general not regarded as a gentleman, because he could not dare to aspire to the hand of one of the young ladies at the manor-house, because he was not asked into the parlors of the great, but was left to drink and smoke with grooms and but- lers, that the power of the clerical bodj^ was smaller than at present. The influence of a class is by no State of England in 1685 3S5 means proportioned to the consideration which the members of that class enjoy in their individual capacity. A cardinal is a much more exalted personage than a begging friar ; but it would be a grievous mistake to suppose that the College of Cardinals has exercised a greater dominion over the public mind of Europe than the order of Saint Francis. In Ireland, at present, a peer holds a far higher station in society than a Roman Catholic priest : yet there are in Munster and Con- uaught few counties where a combination of priests w^ould not carry an election against a combination of peers. In the seventeenth century the pulpit was to a large portion of the population what the periodical press now is. Scarce an}- of the clowns who came to the parish church ever saw a gazette or a political pamphlet. Ill informed as their spiritual pastor might be, he was j^et better informed than themselves ; he had every week an opportunity of haranguing them ; and his harangues were never answered. At every important conjuncture, invectives against the Whigs and exhortations to obey the I^ord's anointed resounded at once from man\' thousands of pulpits ; and the effect was formidable indeed. Of all the causes which, after the dissolution of the Oxford Parliament, produced the violent reaction against the Exclusionists, the most potent seems to have been the oratory of the country clergy. END OF VOLUME I