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AUTHOR: GUIZOT, FRANCOIS PIERRE GUILLAUME TITLE: HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION PLACE: HESN YORK DA TE : 1846 COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES PRESERVATION DEPARTMENT Master Negative # Restrictions on Use: BIBLIOGRAPHIC MICROFORM TARGET Original Material as Filmed - Existing Bibliographic Record 1.^ ' ^J- "L 'P 'i "•"'P' Qvdxot, Francois Pierre Ouillaame^ 1787-1874. Histoiy of the English revolution of 1640, commonly called the great rebellion : from the accession of Charles i to his death. By P. Guizot ... Tr. by William Hazlitt. New York, D. Appleton & co. ; Philadelphia, G. S. Apple- ton ; letc, etc.] 1846. xxi p., 1 1., f25i-51S p. 19^*". ( Appleton's literary miscellany, no. 8-9) m 1. Gt. Brit.— Hist— Civil war, 1642-1649. i. HazMtt, William, 1811- 1893, Tr. — Library of Congress ^' 2-23347 DA390.G969 FILM SIZE:__^2l±^ IMAGE PLACEMENT: lA DATE HLMED BY TECHNICAL MICROFORM DATA REDUCTION RATIO: //^^^ IB IIB FILMED: //p^/^^ INITIALS___^,^ BY: RESEARCH PUBLICATIONS. INC WOODBRIDGE. CT c Association for information and image Management 1100 Wayne Avenue. Suite 1100 • Silver Spring, Maryland 20910 301/587-8202 \ Centimeter 12 3 4 iniliiiiliiiiliiiiiiiiililllliiiilllllllll TTT Inches ilimlimL TTTTT 1 5 6 7 8 iiiliiiiliiiilii ii j im liiiiliiiiliii 9 10 11 iiiliiiiliiiiliiiiliiiili TTT ^ 11 1.0 lllll 3 2 ■■■ 11111==: |A3 !r m 1.4 2.5 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.6 I.I 1.25 12 13 14 15 mm iiliiiiliiiiliiiiliiiiliiiiliiii T 1 I I '*'>» 7 MONUFfiCTURED TO fillM STfiNDRRDS BY APPLIED IMRGE- INC. ¥ .X -y^ l-^ '41 * gSn> II9R' / H f //■ LIBRARY j^fc l! s: r tt '1 f i !^ J' .»»»^ ^rf'JaM I X THE EIGLISH llEMiintHlf-^ OF 1640, COMMONLY CALLED THE GREAT REBELLION: FKOM THE ACCESSION OF CHARLES I TO HIS DEATH. ■I i «THOR OP « H.STORV OF C.T,UZAT.pM ,N ,UpoP.,» '.tc., »^. ^ » J T 3 J > ) J J , ' ' ■> u i ' ' > TRANSLATED BY WILLIAM HAZLITT.f • >' » * • t • »• t IN TWO VOLtMES. VOL. 1. NEW YORK: p. APPLETON & CO., 200 BROADWAY. PHILADELPHIA: O. S. APPLETON, 148 CHESNUT-STREET. CINCINNATI : DERBY, BRADLEY, & COMPANY, 113 MAIN-BTRllT. M DCCC XtVI. )i ADVERTISEMENT. •• • t • r t t I • • • t • • • • ■ * * • « < • > • • • < * • I 1 • t • • t < The full explanation given by M. Guizot, in the follow- ing preface, of the nature of this work, renders any remark on my part unnecessary. I will therefore merely state that in translating it my desire has been to render the author's meaning as nearly as possible in his own style ; whether I have succeeded in this object, it is for others to determine. As to the books, documents, and speeches quoted, I have in all cases gone back to the original sources consulted by the author, and given the ipsissima verba of the respective writer or speaker. M. Guizot, in setting forth his authorities, refers to his own edition of the Memoirs relative to our Revolution (a most valuable publication) ; the references in my trans^ lation are to the best English edition of each work cited. The ample index now given is an entirely new feature, and will, I trust, be accepted as an important one. M»Bi.B TEMPZ.K. William Hazlitt. Dec, 1845. 25038 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. I HAVE published the original memoirs of the English revo- lution; I now publish its history. Previous to the French revolution, this was thegreatest e vent which ]Kurop6 h&d tcr~ narrate. I have no fear of its importance being underrated; our revolution, in surpassing, did not make that of England less great in itself; they were both victories in the same war, and to the profit of the same iwwiee ; gloi^isT tEeir common Bttri- bute ; they do not eclipse, but set off each other. My fear is lest their true character should be mistaken. Test the world should not assign to them that place which is properly theirs in the world's history. According to an opinion now widely adopted, it would I seem as though these two revolutions were unexpected events, I which, emanating from principles and conceived in designs unheard of before, threw society out of its ancient and natural course ; hurricanes, earthquakes — instances, in a word, of i those mysterious phenomena which altogether depart from the ordinary laws of nature, and which burst forth suddenly -^blows, as it were, of Providence — it may be to destroy, i may be to renovate. Friends and enemies, panegyrists and v detractors, alike adopt this view. According to the one class, ] they were glorious events, which brought to light, for the ^ first time, truth, liberty, and justice, before the occurrence of which all was absurdity, iniquity, and tyranny ; to which alone the human race owes its terrestrial salvation. According to >i VIU PREFACE TO THE FIEST EDITION. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION, IX the other class, they were deplorable calamities, which inter- rupted a long golden age of wisdom, virtue, and happiness ; whose perpetrators proclaimed maxims, put forward preten- sions, and committed crimes, till then without parallel : the nations in a paroxysm of madness dashed aside from their accustomed road ; an abyss opened beneath their feet. Thus, whether they exalt or deplore them, whether they bless or curse them, all parties, in considering revolutions, forget all the circumstances, alike isolate them absolutely from the past, alike make them in themselves responsible for the destiny of the world, and load them with anathema or crown them with glory. It is time to get clear of all such false and puerile declama- tion. Far from having interrupted the natural course of events in Europe, neither the English revolution nor our own, ever said, wished, or did anything that had not been said, wished, done, or attempted, a hundred times before they burst forth. They proclaimed the illegality of absolute power ; the free consent of the people, in reference to laws and taxes, and the right of armed resistance, were elemental principles of the feudal system] and the church has often repeated these words of St. rsTcr6re,"Which we find in the canons of the fourth coun- cil of Toledo : << Hp. is l^ l py who rules his people w ith justice ; if he_ nil- ,nthr-'"'?n , hfi sh"^^ "^ inn^nr hn Irin^ ," They attacked prerogative^ and sought tojntroduce greater equality into social order: kings throughout Europe have done the same'f and, down to our own times, the various steps in the progress of civil equality have been founded upon the laws and measured by the progress of royalty. They demanded that public offices should be thrown open to the citizens at large, should be distributed according to merit only, and that power should be conferred by election : this is the fundamental principle of the internal government of the church, which- not only acts upon it, but has emphatically proclaimed its worth. Whether we consider the general doctrines of the two revolu- tions, or the results to which they were applied — whether we regard the government of the state, or civil legislation, pro- perty or persons, liberty or power — noth in g will be found of which the invention originated with them, nothing whiclTis not equally met with, or which, at all events, did not come into existence in periods which are called regular. Nor is this all : those principles, those designs, those efforts \ which are attributed exclusively to the English revolution/ i and to our own, not only preceded them by several centuries,.' \ but are precisely the same principles, the same efforts, to . which society in Europe owes all its progress. Was it by its disorders and its privileges, by its brute force, and by keeping men down beneath its yoke, that the feudal aristo- cracy took part in the development of nations ? No : it struggled against royal tyranny, exercised the right of resist- ance, and maintained the maxims of liberty. For what have nations blessed kings ? Was it for their pretensions to divine right, to absolute power ? for their profusion ? for their courts ? No : kings assailed the feudal system and asistocratical privi- leges ; they introduced unity into legislation, and into the executive administration ; they aided the progress of equality. And the clergy — whence does it derive its power ? how has it promoted civilisation ? Was it by separating itself from the people, by taking fright at human reason, by sanctioning tyranny in the name of Heaven ? No : it gathered together, without distinction, in its churches, and under the law of Grod, the great and the small, the poor and the rich, the weak and the strong; it honored and fostered science, instituted schools, favored the propagation of knowledge, and gave activity to the mind. Interrogate the history of the masters I !,* PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. ( of the world ; examine the influence of the various classes which have decided its destiny ; wherever any good shall manifest itself, wherever the lasting gratitude of man shall recognize a great service done to humanity, it will be seen that these were steps towards the object which were pursued by the English revolution and by our own ; we shall find our- selves in presence of one of the principles they sought to Let these mighty events, then, no longer be held forth as monstrous apparitions in the history of Europe ; let us hear no more about their unheard-of pretensions, their mfernal inventions. They tidvaneed -civilisation^ in -Ihfi^ j^atjiJiL has hem ^rmmg ^-^i^&(^-^^^^^^^ '^ ^^^^ professed the maxims, they forwarded the works to which man has, in all time, owed the development of his nature and the ameliora- tion of his condition ; they did that which has been by turns the merit and the glory of the clergy, of the aristocracy, and of kings. I do not think mankind will much longer persist in abso- lutely condemning them because they are chargeable with errors, calamities, and primes. Admit all this to the full : nay, exceed' the sev^eHlfST the condemners, and closely ex- amine their accusations to supply their omissions ; then sum- mon them, in their turn, to draw up the list of errors, the crimes, and the calamities, of those times and those powers which they have taken under their protection : I much doubt whether they will accept tht challenge. It may be asked : in what respect, then, are the two revolu- * tions so distinguishable from any other epoch, that carrymg on, as they did, the common work of ages, they merited their name, and changed, in effect, the face of the world ? The answer is this : Various powers have successively predominated in Euro- / PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. XI pean society, and led by turns the march of civilisation. After the fall of the Roman empire and the invasion of the Barba- rians, amid the dissolution of all ties, the ruin of all regular power, dominion everywhere fell into the hands of bold brute force. The conquering" aristocracy took possession of all things, persons and property, people and land. In vain did a few great men, Charlemagne in France, Alfred in England, attempt to subject this chaos to the unity of the monarchical system. All unity was impossible. The feudal hierarchy was the only form that society would accept. It pervaded everything. Church as well as State ; bishops and abbots became barons, the king was merely chief lord. Yet, rude and unsettled as was this organization, Europe is indebted to it for its first step out of barbarism. It was among the pro- prietors of fiefs, by their mutual relations, their laws, their V customs, their feelings, their ideas, that European civilisation began. They weighed fearfully upon the people. The clergy alone sought to claim, on behalf of the community, a little reason, justice, and humanity. He who held no place in the feudal hierarchy, had no other asylum than the churches, no other protectors than the priests. Inadequate as it was, yet this protection was immense, for there was none beside. More- over, the priests alone offered some food to the moral nature of man ; to that invincible craving after thought, knowledge, hope, and belief, which overcomes all obstacles and survives all misfortune. The church soon acquired a prodigious power in every part of Europe. Nascent royalty added to its strength by borrowing its assistance. The preponderance passed from the conquering aristocracy to the clergy. By the co-operation of the church and its own inherent vigor, royalty rose up to a stature above that of its rivals ; but the clergy which had aided, now wished to enslave it. In •'f xu PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. XIU this new danger, royalty called to its assistance sometimes the barons, now become less formidable, more frequently the com- mons, the people, already strong enough to give good help, but not strong enough to demand a high price for their services. By their aid, royalty triumphed in its second struggle, and be- came in its turn the ruling power, invested with the confidence of nations. Such is the history of ancient Europe. The feudal aris- tocracy, the clergy, royalty, by turns possessed it, successively presided over its destiny and its progress. It was to their co-existence and to their struggles that it was, for a long time, indebted for all it achieveTof liberty, prosperity, en- lightenment ; in a word, for the development of its civilisa- tion. In the seventeenth century in England, in the eighteenth in ^-^J'rance, all struggle between these three powers had ceased ; / they lived together in sluggish peace. It may even be said, / that they had lost their historical character, and even the I remembrance of those efforts, which, of old, constituted their I power and their splendor. The aristocracy no longer pro- ^ tected public liberty, nor even its own ; jroyalty , no longer \ labored to abolish aristocratical privilege ; it seemed, on the \ contrary, to have become favorable to its possessors, in re- 1 turn for their servility. The clergy, a soiritual power, feared Vthe human mind, and no longer able to guide, called upon it with threats, to check its career. Still civilisation followed its course, daily more general and more active. Forsaken by its ancient leaders, astonished at their apathy and at the humor they displayed, and at seeing that less was done for it as its power and its desires grew larger, the people began to think it had better take to transact its own affairs itself; and, assum- ing in its own person all the functions which its former leaders no longer fulfilled, claimed at once of the crown liberty, of the aristocracy equality, of the clergy the rights of human intel- ect. Then burst forth revolutions. These did, for the benefit of a new power, what-Europe had in other cases already several times witnessed ; they gave to society leaders who would and could direct it in its progress. By this title alone had the aristocracy, the church, and royalty by turns enjoyed the preponderance. The people now took possession of it by the same means, in the name of the same necessities. Such was the true operation, the real characteristic of the English revolution as well as of our own. After having con- y sidered them as absolutely alike, it has been said that they had nothing but appearances in common. The first, it has been contended, was political rather then social ; the second sought to change at once both society and government ; the one sought liberty, the other equality ; the one, still more re- ligious than political, only substituted dogma for dogma, a church for a church ; the other, philosophical more especially, claimed the full independence of reason : an ingenious compa- rison, and not without its truth, but well nigh as superficial, as frivolous as the opinion it pretends to correct. While, under the external resemblance of the two revolutions, great differ- ences are perceptible, so, beneath their differences, is hidden a resemblance still more profound. The English revolution, it is true, from the same causes that brought it forth an age be- fore ours, retained a more decided impress of the ancient social state : there, free institutions, which had their origin in the very depth of barbarism, had survived the despotism they could not prevent ; the feudal aristocracy, or at least a portion of it, had united its cause to that of the people ; royalty, even in the days of its supremacy, had never been fully or undis- turbedly absolute ; the national church had itself begun reli- gious reform, and called forth the daring inquiries of mind* 2 .■a i V,lv xiv PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. PftEFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. XV Everywhere, in the laws, the creed, the manners of the people, revolution found its work half accomplished ; and from that order of things which it sought to change, came at once assist- ance and obstacles, useful allies and still powerful adversaries. It thus presented a singular mixture of elements, to all appear- ance the most contrary, at once aristocratic and popular, religious and philosophical, appealing alternately to laws and theories ; now proclaiming a new yoke for conscience, now its entire liberty ; sometimes narrowly confined within the limits of facts, at others soaring to the most daring attempts ; placed, in short, between the old and new social state, rather as a bridge over which to pass from the one to the other, than as an abyss of separation. The most terrible unity, on the contrary, pervaded the French revolution ; the new spirit alone dominated ; and the old system, far from taking its part and its place in the move- ment, only sought to defend itself against it, and only defended itself for a moment ; it was alike without power as without virtue. On the day of the explosion, one fact only remained real and powerful, the general civilisation of the country. In this great but sole result, old institutions, old manners, creeds, the memory of the past, the whole national life, had fused themselves and become lost. So many active and glorious ages had produced only France. Hence the immense results of the revolution, and also its immense errors ; it possessed ab- solute power. Assuredly there is a great difference, and one worthy to be well borne in mind ; it strikes us more especially when we regard the two revolutions in themselves as isolated events, detached from general history, and seek to unravel, if I may so express it, their peculiar physiognomy, their individual character. But let them resume th^^ir p^ ^e in the course o f Ages, and then inquire what they have done towards the de- velopment of European civilisation, and the resemblance will reappear, will rise above all minor differences. Produced by the same causes, the decay of the feudal aristocracy, the church, and royalty, they both labored at the same work, the dominion of the public in public affairs ; they struggled for liberty against absolute power, for equality against privilege, for progressive and general interests against stationary and individual interests. Their situations were different, their strength unequal ; what the one clearly conceived, the other saw but in imperfect outline ; in the career which the one ful- filled, the other soon stopped short ; on the same battle-field, the one found victory, the other defeat ; the sin of the one was contempt of all religious principle, of the other hypocrisy ; one was wiser, the other more powerful ; but their means and their success alone differed ; their tendency, as well as their origin, was the same ; their wishes, their efforts, their progress, j were directed towards the same end ; what the one attempted < or accomplished, the other accomplished or attempted. Though guilty of religious persecution, the English revolution saw the banner of religious liberty uplifted in its ranks ; notwithstand- ing its aristocratic alliances, it founded the preponderance of the commons ; though especially intent upon civil order, it still called for more simple legislation, for parliamentary re- form, the abolition of entails, and of primogenitureship ; and though disappointed in premature hopes, it enabled English society to take a great stride out of the monstrous inequality of the feudal system. In a word, the analogy of the two revo- lutions is such, that the first would never have been thoroughly understood had not the second taken place. In our days, the history of the English revolution has changed its face. Hume* for a long series of years enjoyed • The first volume of Hume's History of the House of Stuart ap- peared in England in 1754, and the second in 1756. I xvi PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. the privilege of forming, in accordance with his views, the opinion of Europe ; and, notwithstanding the aid of Mirabeau,* Mrs. Macauley's declamations had not been able to shake his authority. All at once, men's minds have recovered their natural independence ; a crowd of works have attested, not only that this epoch has become once more the object of lively sympathy, but that the narrative and opinions of Hume have ceased to satisfy the imagination and reason of the public. A great orator, Mr. Fox,f distinguished writers, Mr Malcolm Laing,:|:Macdiarmid,§ Brodie,|| Lingard,ir Grodwin,** (fee, hast- ened to meet this new-roused curiosity. Bom in France, the movement could not fail to make its way there ; UHistoire de Cromwell by M. Villemain, UHistoire de la Revolution de 1688, by M. Mazure, evidently prove, that neither for us was Hume sufficIentT^and I have been able myself, to publish the voluminous collection of the original memoirs of that epoch, • Mrs. Macauley*s work was to have been a ** History of England from the Accession of James the First to the Elevation of the House of Hanover,*' but it reaches no further than the fall of James the Se- cond. It was published in England from 1763 to 1783. Of the French translation, sent forth in 1791, under the name of Mirabeau, only two volumes appeared. t History of the Two Last Kings of the House of Stuart, 4to., Lon- don, 180S. X History of Scotland from the Union of the Crowns to the Union of the Kingdom, 4 vols., Svo. First published, 1800. § Lives of British Statesmen, 2 vols. Svo, second edition, London, 1820. The second volume contains the Lives of Strafford and Claren- don. fl History of the British Empire, from the Accession of Charles the First to the Restoration of Charles the Second, 4 vols. 8vo., Edinburgh, 1822. H History of England ; the 9th and 10th volumes (London, 1825, Svo.) contain the reigns of James I., and Charles I. ** History of tlie Commonwealthof England ; London, 1824 ; 4 vols., Svo. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. XVII without wearying the attention or exhausting the curiosity of readers.* It would little become me to enter here into a detailed ex- amination of these works ; but I do not hesitate to assert that, without the French revolution, without the vivid light it threw on the struggle between the Stuarts and the English people, they would not possess the new merits which distinguish them. I need only as a proof, the difference that is to be re- marked between those produced by Great Britain, and those which France gave birth to. How great soever the patriotic interest inspired in the mind of the former, by the revolution of 1640, even when they place themselves under the banner of one of the parties which it educed, historical criticism reigns throughout their works ; they apply themselves more especially to exact research, to the comparison and cross- questioning of witnesses ; what they relate, is to them an old story they thoroughly know, not a drama at which they are present ; a period long past, which they pride themselves on being well acquainted with, but in whose bosom they live not. Mn Brodie fully participates in all the prejudices, distrust, and anger of the bitterest puritans against Charles and the cavaliers ; while, to the faults and crimes of his party, he is wholly blind. But, at least, one would imagine so much passion would produce an animated narrative ; that the party exciting so much sympathy in the mind of the writer, would be described with truth and power. Not so : despite the ar. dor of his predilections, Mr. Brodie studies, but sees not, discusses, but describes not ; he admires the popular party, but does not produce it strikingly on the stage ; his work is a learned and useful dissertation, not a moral and animated his- tory. Mr. Lingard shares in none of the opinions, none of • This Collection, now completed, forms 25 vols. Svo. Paris. Didier. 2* . % XVlll PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. the affections of Mr. Brodie ; he remains impartial between the king and the parliament ; he pleads the cause of neither, and makes no attempt to refute the errors of his predecessors ; he even boasts of not having opened the work of Hume since he undertook his own ; he wrote, he says, with the aid of original documents alone, with the times he wished to describe ever before his eyes, and with the firm resolution of shunning all systematic theory. Does he restore life to history by this impartiality ? Not at all : Mr. Lingard's impartiality is, in this case, sheer indifference ; a Roman-catholic priest, it matters little to him whether Church of England men or presbyterians triumph ; thus, indifference has helped him no better than passion did Mr. Brodie to penetrate beyond the external, and, so to speak, the material form of events ; with him, too, the principal merit is in having carefully examined facts, and collected and disposed them in commendable order. Mr. Malcolm Laing had discerned with more sagacity the political character of the revolution ; he shows very well that from the first, without distinctly apprehending its own aim, it sought to displace power, to transfer it to the house of commons, and thus to substitute parliamentary for royal go- vernment, and that it could only rest on this basis. But the moral side of the epoch, the religious enthusiasm, the popular passions, the party intrigues, the personal rivalries, all those scenes in which human nature displays itself, when freed from the restraint of old habits and laws, are wanting in his book ; it is the report of a clear-sighted judge, but of one who has only resorted to written documents, and has called before him in person neither actors nor witnesses. I might pass- in review all the works with which England has been recently enriched on this subject ; they would all, on examination, be £)und to present the same character — a marked revival of in- terest in this great crisis of the national life, a more attentive PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. XIZ f. Study of the facts that relate to it, a keener feeling of its merits, a juster appreciation of its causes and consequences ; still it is but meditation and learning applied to the production of works of erudition or philosophy. I seek in vain for that natural sympathy in the writer for his subject that gives to history light and life ; and if Hampden or Clarendon were to return to life, I can scarcely believe they would recognize their own times. I open the Histoire de Cromwell by M. ViUemaina. and find altogether another scene before me. It is less complete, less learned, less exact than several of the works I have adverted to ; but, throughout, there is a quick and keen comprehension of the opinions, the passions, the vicissitudes of revolutions, of public tendencies, and individual character, of the uncon- querable nature and the so changing forms of parties ; the historian's reason teaches him how to appreciate all situations, all ideas ; his imagination is moved by all real and deep im- pressions ; his impartiality, somewhat too sceptical if any- thing, is yet more animated than is frequently even the passion of the exclusive advocates of a cause ; and though the revo- lution only appears in his book confined within the too narrow frame of a biography, it is clearer and more animated than I have met with it elsewhere. The reason of this is, that, setting aside the advantages of talent, M. Vi llemain had those of situation. He has viewed and judged the English revolution from the midst of that of France ; he found in the men and the events developing themselves beneath his own eyes, the key to those he had to paint ; he drew life from his own times and infused it into the times he wished to recal. I have no desire to carry these reflections further ; I have ventured so much only to point out how great is the analogy between the two epochs, and also to explain how a French- / •?^' XX PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. ( man may believe that the history of the English revolution has not yet been written in a fully satisfactory manner, and that he may be allowed to attempt it. I have carefully ^ studied nearly all the old and modern works of which it has \ formed the subject ; I did not fear that this study would ^weaken the sincerity of my own impressions or the indepen- dence of my judgment ; it seems to me there is too much timidity in dreading so readily lest an auxiliary should be- come a master ; too much pride in refusing so absolutely all aid. Yet, and if I do not deceive myself it will easily be re- cognized, original documents have more peculiarly been my guides. I have nothing to observe here, as to the " Memoirs ;'* I endeavored in the " Notices " I prefixed to my edition of them, clearly to explain their character and worth ; Those which did not find a place in my " Collection," though I have made use of them in my " History," appear to me of too little importance to require remark. As for the collections of official acts and documents, they are very numerous ; and, though often explored, still abound in unworked treasures. I have had constantly before me those of Rushworth, Thurloe, the journals of both houses of parliament, the " Parliamentary History," the old one as well as that of Mr. Cobbett, the " Collection of State Trials," and a great number of other works of the same kind, which it would be uninteresting to enumerate. I also found in the pamphlets of the time, not only English, but French, some curious information ; for the French public was more occupied than is imagined with the English revolution ; many pamphlets were published in France for and against it, and the Frondeurs more than once put forward its example, against Mazarin and the court. I must also say, to do justice to a man and a work now too much neglected, that I have often consulted with profit the History of England, by Rapin de Thoyras ; and that, not- V PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. XXl withstanding the inferiority of the writer's talents, the English revolution is perhaps better understood in it, and more completely displayed than in the works of most of its successors. In conclusion, let me be allowed to express here my gra- titude to all those persons who, in France and in England, have been good enough to sanction my work in its progress, and to promote it by the most valuable assistance. Amongst others, I owe to the kindness of Sir James Mackintosh, as inexhaustible as his mind and knowledge, suggestions and advice which no one but himself could have given me ; and one of those, who, amongst ourselves, are the most versed in the past history as well as in the present state of England, M. Gallois, has thrown open to me, with a kindness I have some right to consider friendship, the treasures of his library and his conversation. F. G. Paris, April, 1826. ADVERTISEMENT TO THE EDITION OF 1841 The History of the Revolution of England comprises three grand periods. In the first, under Charles I. (1625 — 1649), the Revolution was preparing, was put forth, and took its stand. In the second, under the Long Parliament and Crom- well (1649—1660), it essayed to found its own form of govern- . ment, which it called a Republic, and fell in the attempt. The third period is that of monarchical re-action, successful for a while, under Charles II., who, in his cautious selfishness, aimed at nothing beyond his own personal enjoyment, but ruined by the blind passion of James II., who aimed at abso- lute power. In 1688, England achieved the point she aimed at in 1640, and quitted the career of revolution for that of liberty. I publish, without alteration, a new edition of my History of the first period. I have collected, for that of the two other periods, a body of materials which, as I believe, are neither without' importance or variety. A day will doubtless come, when I shall be able to make use of these materials : mean- time, wanting the leisure to complete my narrative of this stupendous event, I apply my mind at every available moment, to its just comprehension. F. G. Paris, January, 1841. M %^ I HISTORY N \ORK. OF .r*--» THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION, FROM THE ACCESSION OF CHARLES I. TO HIS DEATH. BOOK THE FIRST 1625—1629. Accession of Charles the First to the throne— State and disposition of England— Meeting of the first parliament— Spirit of liberty mani- fested therein— Its dissolution— First attempts at arbitrary govern- ment — Their bad success — Second parliament — Impeachment of the Duke of Buckingham— Dissolution of parliament— 111 administration of Buckingham— Third parliament— Petition of rights— Prorogation of parliament— Murder of Buckingham— Second session of the third parliament— Fresh causes of public discontent— The king's dis- pleasure — Dissolution of the third parliament. On the 27th of March, 1625, Charles the First ascended the throne, and immediately afterwards (2d April) convoked a parliament. Scarcely was the house of commons assembled (18th June), when a worthy man, who had been reckoned in the last reign among the opponents of the court. Sir Benjamin Rudyard, rose (22d June) and moved that henceforth nothing should be neglected to maintain a perfect harmony between the king and the people : " For," said he, " what may we expect from him, being king ; his good natural disposition, his freedom from vice, his travels abroad, his being bred in parliament, promise greatly."* All England, indeed, gave way to joy and hope. And it was not merely those vague hopes, those tumultuous rejoic- ings, which a new reign, as a matter of course, gives rise to; ♦ Pari. Hist., vol. ii., col. 5. 3 26 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 27 It they were serious, general, and seemingly well founded. Charles was a prince of grave and pure conduct, of acknow- ledged piety, diligent, learned, frugal, little inclined to prodi- "ality, reserved without moroseness, dignified without arro. gance He maintained decorum and order in his household ; everything about him announced a noble, upright character, the friend°of justice ; his manners and deportment awed his courtiers, and pleased the people ; his virtues had gained him the esteem of all good men. Weary of the mean ways, the talkative and familiar pedantry, the inert and pusillanimous policy of James, England promised herself happiness and • liberty under a king whom she could respect. Charles and the English nation did not know to what a degree they were already antagonistic one to the other, nor the causes which, long since at work, and growing each day more powerful, would soon prevent the possibility ot their understanding and agreeing with each other. I — Two revolutions, the one visible and even glaring, the other 1 internal, unperceived, but not the less certain, were being \ accomplished at this epoch ; the first, in the kingly power ot U Europe ; the second, in the social state and manners ot the English people. . i r j It was just at this time, that, on the continent, royalty, treed I from its ancient trammels, was becoming everywhere well . ' nigh absolute. In France, in Spain, in most of the states of the German empire, it had quelled the feudal aristocracy, and was ceasing to protect the liberty of the commons, having no loncrer need of them to oppose to other enemies. The higher nobility, as if it had lost even the feeling of its defeat, crowded around the throne, almost proud of the brilliant display of its conquerors. The burghers, dispersed, and of a timid nature, rejoicing in the order now beginning to prevail, productive of a happiness till then unknown to them, labored to enrich and enlighten themselves, without aspiring as yet to any place in the government of the state. Everywhere, the pomp of courts, the dispatch of administrative business, the extent and regu- larity of wars, proclaimed the preponderance of royal power. The maxims of divine right and passive obedience prevailed, feebly contested even where not recognized. In a word, the progress of civilisation, of letters, and arts, of internal peace and prosperity, embellishing this triumph of pure monarchy, inspired princes with a presumptuous confidence, and people with admiring compliance. ^ Royalty in England had not remained an exception to this European movement. From the accession of the house of Tudor, in 1485, it had ceased to have as adversaries those proud barons, who, too weak to struggle individually against ^ their king, had formerly, by coalescing together, been able now to maintain their own rights, at other times to associate themselves, by main force, in the exercise of royal power. Broken up, iinpoverished, reduced by its own excesses, above all by the wars of the two Roses, this aristocracy, so long unmanageable, yielded, almost without resistance, first to the haughty tyranny of Henry VIII., and afterwards to the skilful -policy of Elizabeth. Become the head of the church, and the possessor of immense estates, Henry, by distributing these, with lavish hand among families whose greatness he himself i thus created, or whose fallen fortunes he thus restored, began ' the metamorphosis of barons into courtiers. Under Elizabeth this metamorphosis was completed. A woman and a queen, a brilliant court at once gratified her taste and her sense of power, and . augmented that power; the nobility thronged thither with delight, and without too much exciting public discontent. It was a rare temptation thus to devote them- selves to a popular sovereign, and to seek by intrigues, and amid constant festivities, the favor of a queen who enjoyed that of the country. The maxims, the forms, and the language, often even the practices of pure monarchy, were forgiven in a government useful and glorious to the nation ; the affection of the people kept full pace with the servility of the courtiers ; and towards a woman, all whose perils were public perils, unbounded devotion seemed a law to the gentleman, a duty to the pro- tcstant and citizen. The Stuarts could not fail to advance in the path which, since the accession of the Tudors, English royalty had entered upon. A Scotchman, and of the blood of Guise, James I., by his family reminiscences and the habits of his country, was attached to France, and accustomed to seek his allies and his models on the continent, where, ordinarily, an English prince only saw enemies : ajccordingly, he soon showed himself still more profoundly imbued than Elizabeth and even than Henry II 28 HISTORY OF 7hE VIII. himself, with the maxims which, at that time, were m Europe the basis of pure monarchy ; he professed them with the pride of a theologian and the complacency of a king, pro- testing on every occasion, by the pomp of his declarations, against the timidity of his acts and the limits of his power. Compelled, sometimes, to defend, by more direct and simpler arguments, the measures of his government, arbitrary impri- , sonments or illegal taxes, James at such times alleged the example of the king of France or of Spain. " Tli_e kin^_ot_ TTn^d," said his ministers to the house of commons, "must^ n'Stbeworse binhaiihis equals." And such, even in Englan^ was the influence of the revolution lately accomplished in continental monarchy, that the adversaries of the court were embarrassed by this language, almost convinced themselves that the inherent dignity of princes required that all should enjoy the same rights, and at a loss how to reconcile this necessary equality among kings with the liberties of their country. Nurtured from his infancy in these pretensions and these maxims, prince Charles, upon arriving at manhood, was stih nearer exposed to their contagion. The infanta of Spam was promised to him : the duke of Buckingham suggested to him the idea of going secretly to Madrid to sue in person for her heart and hand. So romantic a design pleased the young man's imagination. The next thing was to obtain the king a consent. James refused, flew into a passion, wept, and a\ last yielded to his favorite rather than to his son.f Charles was received at Madrid with great honors (March, 1623), and there saw, in all its splendor, monarchy majestic, supreme, receivin^ was limited to the obtaining a recognition of their most simple '^■'^ and primitive rights, to the achieving a few incomplete and precarious guarantees. Never had their fancy soared so high as to give them the notion that they had any right, that they were called upon to take a share in the sovereignty, to par- '*^^^«^ ticipate in a permanent and positive manner in the govern- ;^ . , ment of the country ; the barons alone, they thought, were fitted for so high a purpose. In the sixteenth century, harassed and ruined, like the barons, by the civil wars, the commons needed above all things order and repose ; this royalty gave them, imperfectly indeed, but still more secure and better regulated than they had ever known it before. They accepted the benefit with earnest gratitude. Separated from their ancient leaders, standing well nigh alone in presence of the throne and of those barons who once were their allies, their language was humble, their conduct timid, and the king might well have believed that thenceforward the people would be as docile as the great nobles. r 30 HISTORY OF THE But the people was not in England, as on the continent, an ill-combined coalition of citizens and peasants, whose eman- cipation from their ancient servitude had proceeded by very slow degrees, and who were not yet quite free from the yoke. The English house of commons had, as early as the lour- teenth cintury, received within its walls the most numerous class of the English aristocracy, all the proprietors of small fiefs, who had not sufficient influence or wealth to share with the barons the sovereign power, but were proud of the same oricrin, and had long possessed the same rights. Become the leaders of the nation, these men had more than once commu- nicated to it a strength, and, above all, a boldness, of which the commonalty alone would have been incapable. W eakenea «. H depressed, in common with the lower orders, by the long miseries of civil discord, they soon, i"/l^%^,^°"^/ P^^,"^^! resumed their importance and their pride. While the higher nobility, flocking to court to repair their losses, were invested with factitious greatness, as corrupting as precarious, and which, without giving them back their former fortunes, sepa- rated them more and more from the people ; the gentry, the freeholders, the citizens, solely occupied in improvmg their lands or their commercial capital, were increasing m riches and credit, were becoming daily more closely united, w^^^ drawing the entire people under their influence ;r and, without , show, without political design, almost unconsciously to them- \ selves, were taking possession of all the social strength, the l.true source of power. / In the towns, commerce and industry were rapid y de- veloping themselves ; the city of London had already acquired immense wealth ; the king, the court, nearly all the great nobles of the kingdom, became its debtors, as neces- sitous as insolent. The mercantile marine, that nursery ot the royal navy, was numerous, and active in every quarter, and the sailors seemed imbued with all the earnestness of their employers. „ . In the country, things followed the same course. Property was more and more divided out. The feudal laws opposed obstacles to the sale and subdivision of fiefs : a statute ot Henry VII. to a great extent removed these obstacles indi- rectly ; the high nobility received this as a favor, and hastened to profit by it. They, in like manner, alienated most of the ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 31 vast domains that Henry VIII. had distributed among them.* The king favored these sales in order to augment the number of possessors of ecclesiastical property, and the courtiers were fain to have recourse to them,' for all the abuses within their reach did not suffice for their necessities. By and by, Eliza- beth, to avoid asking for subsidies, always burdensome even to the power that obtains them, sold a large extent of the crown lands. Nearly all these were bought by gentlemen who lived on their estates, by freeholders who cultivated theirs, or by citizens retiring from trade, for they alone had acquired by their industry or economy the means of paying for that which the prince and the courtiers could not keep. Agricul- ture was prospering, the counties and towns were becoming filled with a rich, active, and independent population ; and the movement that put into their hands a large proportion of the public wealth was so rapid, that, in 1628, at the opening of parliament, the house of commons was three times as rich as the house of lords, j" As this revolution was accomplishing itself, the commons again began to grow uneasy under tyranny. With greater property, greater securities became necessary. Rights exer- cised by the prince for a long time without dispute, and still without obstacle, came well nigh to be deemed abuses when a much greater number of persons felt their weight. It was asked, had the king of England always possessed, them ? — whether he ought ever to have possessed them ? By degrees, the remembrance of their ancient liberties, of the eflTorts that had achieved the great charter, and of the maxims it conse- crated, returned to the minds of the people. The court spoke with contempt of those old times, as rude and barbarous ; the people recalled them with respect and aflection, as free and bold. The glorious liberties they had asserted were no longer of service, and yet all trace of them was not lost. Parliament had not ceased to meet ; kings, finding it docile, had often * Clarendon, v., G. . . t Hume (History of England, Oxford, 1826, vi., 209) cites in con- firmation of this assertion, Sanderson and Walker, historians of little authority. I have not been able to discover, in contemporary writers whose testimony deserves more confidence, so precise a valuation of the comparative wealth of the two houses ; but everything attests that the house of commons was much richer than the house of lords. 32 HISTORY OF THE I* f. even employed it as an instrument of their power. Under Henry VIII., Mary, and Elizabeth, juries had showed them- selves complaisant, servile even, but still the institution ex- isted. The towns had preserved their charters, the corpora- tions their franchises. In short, though long strangers to resistance, the commons still possessed the means of resist- ance ; institutions tending to liberty were not half so much wanting as the power and will to make use of them. The power, however, returned to them with the revolution, which communicated such rapid progress to their material greatness. That the will might not be far behindhand, all that was needed was another revolution, which should inspire a moral great- ness, embolden their ambition, elevate their thoughts, make resistance a duty, and dominion a necessity. The Reforma- tion had this effect. Proclaimed in England by a despot, the Reformation began there in tyranny ; scarcely born, she persecuted her partisans and her enemies alike. Henry VIII. with one hand raised scaffolds for the catholics, with the other piled up faggots for the protestants who refused to subscribe to the creed, and approve the government which the new church received from him. There were, then, from the outset two reformations — that of tlie king and that of the people : the first unsettled and ser- vile, more attached to temporal interests than to belief, alarmed at the movement which had given it birth, and seeking to bor- row from Catholicism all that in separating from Catholicism it could retain; the other, spontaneous, ardent, despising worldly considerations, accepting all the consequences of its principles — in a word, a true moral revolution, undertaken in the name and with the ardor of faith. United for some time — under queen Mary by common suffering, and at the accession of Elizabeth by common joy — the two reformations could not long fail to separate, and turn against each other. And such was their situation, that poli- tics became necessarily mixed up in their debates. In sepa- rating herself from the independent head of the Catholic church, the Anglican church had lost all its own strength, and no longer held her rights or her power but as of the power and rights of the sovereigns of the state. She was thus bound to the cause of civil despotism, and constrained to profess its ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 33 maxims in order to legitimate her own origin, to serve its \ interests in order to preserve her own. On their part, the \ nonconformists, in attacking their religious adversaries, found themselves also compelled to attack the temporal sovereign, and in accomplishing the reformation of the church, to assert the liberties of the people. The king had succeeded to the pope ; the Anglican clergy, successors of the Catholic clergy, / no longer acted but in the name of the king : throughout, in a dog ma, a c eremony^ a prayer, the erection of an alTaf^lHef fashion of a surplice, the royal will was compromised in cOrnT" mon with that of the bishops, the government in common with' the discipline and faith. In this perilous necessity of a double struggle against the prince and the church, of a simultaneous reformation in reli- gion and state, the nonconformists at first hesitated. Popery, and everything that resembled it, was odious and unlawful in their sight ; but not so, as yet, royal authority, even though despotic. Henry VIII. had begun the reformation, Elizabeth saved it. .The boldest puritans hesitated to measure the rights, to prescribe limits to a power to which they owed so much ; and if at intervals individuals made a step towards this holy object, the astonished nation thanked them silently, but did not foljow them. # But something must be done ; reform must either retrograde, or lay its hand too upon government, which alone obstructed its progress. By degrees, men's minds grew more daring; the force of conscience gave boldness to ideas and designs ; religious creeds required political rights ; people began to in- quire why they did not enjoy them ? who had usurped them ? by what right ? what was the way to regain them ? The obscure citizen, who, lately, at the mere name of Elizabeth, would have bent low in fearful respect, and who, probably, would never have turned towards the throne a bolder look, if in the tyranny of the bishops he had not recognized that of the queen, now sternly interrogated both the one and the other as to their pretensions, when constrained to do so in defence of his faith. iLwas more particularly among the private gen- try, the freeholders, burghers, and the commonalty, that thisi feeling of inquiry and resistance in the matter of government,]- as well as in matter of faith, diffused itself, for it was among them that religious reform was fermenting and making its li 34 HISTORY OF THE way. Less interested about religious creeds, the court and a part of the lower nobility were content with the innovations of Henry VIII. and his successors, and supported the Angli- can church from conviction, indifference, self-interest, or loy- alty. Less connected with the interests, and at the same time more exposed to the violence of power, the English com- mons thenceforward entirely changed, with reference to roy- alty, their attitude and their ideas. Day by day, their timid- ity lessened, and their ambition grew. The views of the citizen and the freeholder ; even of the peasant, were raised above his condition. [Tie was a Christian ; in his own house, among his friends, he boldly examined the mysteries of divine power ; what terrestrial power then was so exalted that he must abstain from considering it ? In his Bible he read the laws of God ; to obey them, he was forced to resist other laws ; he must needs then ascertain where the latter should stop short. He who seeks to know the limits of a master's rights will soon seek also their origin : the nature of royal power, of all powers, their ancient limits, their recent usur- pations, the conditions and the sources of their legitimacy, became throughout England the subject of examination and conversatiorj examination, at first timid, and undertaken ra- ther from necessity than choice; conversation, for a long time secret, and which, even when held, the people were afraid to carry to any length, but which gave greater freedom, and a boldness hitherto unknown to mind. Elizabeth, however popular and respected, felt the effects of this growing disposi- tion,* and rigorously resisted it, but so as not to encounter ac- tual peril. Matters grew much worse under James. Weak and despised, he wished to be thought a despot ; the dogmatic display of his impotent pretensions only provoked fresh dar- ing, which again he irritated without repressing. The popu- lar thought soared high and free — it had no longer any check ; the monarch was an object of ridicule, his favorites, of indig- nation. On the throne, at court, haughty pride was without power, even without effect ; the base corruption to which it resorted, inspired thinking men with profound disgust, and brought the highest rank within the reach of degrading in- sults on the part of the popalace. It was no longer the privi- ♦ See Appendix, No. 1. I ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 35 lege of lofty minds to look nobility in the face, and measure it coolly : the commonest citizen equally asserted this right. The opposition soon appeared as haughty and more confident than power ; and it was not the opposition of the great barons, of the house of lords, it was that of the house of commons, resolved to take in the state a place, to assume over the go- vernment an influence which it had never attained. Their indifference to the pompous menaces of the prince, their haughty, though respectful language, manifested that every- thing was changed ; that they thought proudly, and were determined to act authoritatively ; and the secret impression of this moral revolution was already so diffused, that, in 1621, when awaiting a committee of the commons, which came to present him with a severe remonstrance, James said, with an irony less painful to himself than it would have been c6uld he have foreseen coming events : " Place twelve arm-chairs — I am going to receive twelve kings."* And, in fact, it was almost a senate of kings that an abso- lute monarch called around his throne, when Charles I. con- voked the parliament. Neither the prince nor the people, more especially the latter, had as yet clearly ascertained the principle, or measured the compass of their pretensions ; they approached each other, with the design and sincere hope of union, but at bottom disunion was already complete, for both the one and the other thought as sovereigns. As soon as the session was opened, the commons began to look closely into every department of government ; external and domestic affairs, negotiation, alliances, the application of past subsidies and of future subsidies, the state of religion, the repression of popery ; nothing appeared to them beyond their cognizance. They complained of the Royal Navy, as affording inadequate protection to English commerce (Aug. 11, 1625), of Dr. Montague, the king's chaplain, for defend- ing the Romish church and preaching up passive obedience (7th July). They expected from the king alone the redress of- all their grievances, but meantime evinced their determi- nation to interfere in every case by inquiries, petitions, and the expression of their opinion. * Rapin's Hist, of England, viii., 1S3 ; Kennet's Hist, of England, iii., 743. <^ 36 HISTORY OF THE They but slightly reproached the government of Charles ; it was only just commencing. Yet so extended and energetic an examination of public affairs appeared to him already an encroachment ; the ireedom of speech offended him. One of the court party, Mr. Edward Clarke, essayed a complamt on this head in the house ; ** unbecoming and bitter words,' he said, *' had been made use of." A general cry summoned him to appear at the bar, and explain ; he persisted ; and the house was on the point of expelling him (Aug. 6). Their speech, indeed, was sufficiently bold, though m hum- bier terms. C" We do not desire, as 5 Henry IV. or 29 Henry VI., the removing from about the king any evil counsellors. We do not request a choice by name, as 14 Edward II., 3, 5, 11, Richard II., 8 Henry IV., or 31 Henry VI. ; nor to swear them in parliament, as 35 Edward I., 9 Edward II., or 5 Richard II. ; or to line them out their directions of rule, as 43 Henry III., and 8 Henry VI. ; or desire that which Henry III. did promise in his 42d year : * Se acta omnia per assen- sum magnatum de concilio suo electorum, et sine eorum as- sensu nihil.' We only in loyal duty offer up our humble desires, that since his majesty hath, with advised judgment, elected so wise, religious and worthy servants, to attend him in that high employment, he will be pleased to advise with them together, a way of remedy for these disasters in state, brought on by long security and happy peace ; and not be led with young and simple council.^ Thus spoke (6 Aug.) Sir Robert Cotton, a learned, eloquent, and moderate man ; and the commons, while protesting with him that they had no inten- tion of imitating the boldness of the old parliament, congratu- lated themselves upon hearing it recalled to mind. • The king grew angry, but did not openly complain. Such language, though disagreeable, did not appear to him as yet dangerous. Besides, he wanted subsidies. The last parlia- ment had ardently demanded war with Spain ; the new one could not refuse to support it. Charles insisted that without delay the means of prosecuting it should be furnished him, promising to redress just grievances. But the house no longer trusted to promises, not even to those of a king who had not yet broken any, and whom they esteemed. Princes inherit the faults as well as the thrones of their predecessors. Charles thought the people should ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 37 fear nothing from him, as he had done no ill ; the people, that all the sources of past ills should be extirpated, that nothing might be feared for the future. The commons only gave, at first, a small subsidy, and the customs duties were only voted for a year. This last resolution seemed an insult, and the lords refused to sanction it. Why should the commons, de- manded the court people, place less confidence in the present king than in his predecessors ? They all had the customs duties voted for the continuance of their reign. Yet his majesty had fully exhibited, with a rare sincerity, the state of the finances, refusing no document, no voucher, no explana- tion, that was required. The urgency of the public necessi- ties was evident ; there was little wisdom, thought the lords, in angering so soon, without motive, a young prince who showed himself so inclined to live on good terms with the parliament. The commons did not say they would not grant larger sub- sidies ; but they proceeded with the examination of grievan- ces ; resolved, though they did not announce the intention, to obtain first and foremost of all things, their redress. The king was indignant that they should dare to prescribe to him, and suppose that he would yield to force, or permit himself to be set aside. It was a usurpation of that sovereignty which belonged to him alone, and which in no case he would suffer to be brought in question. Parliament was dissolved (Aug. 12). Thus, notwithstanding their mutual good will, the prince and the people had only met to disagree ; they separated without either the one or the other side feeling itself weak or believing itself in the wrong, equally certain of the legitimacy of its pretensions, equally resolved to persevere in them. The commons protested that they were devoted to the king, but would not yield up to him their liberties. The king said he respected the liberties of his subjects, but that he would take care to govern by himself, without their interference. And he immediately set about it. Orders from the council to the lord lieutenants of the counties enjoined them to raise by way of loan the money the king wanted. They were to apply for this to the rich citizens in their districts, and to send to the court the names of those who should refuse to lend, or even be tardy in their loans. They calculated at once upon affec- '■■Y 38 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 39 tion and upon fear. At the same time, the fleet sailed on an expedition against Cadiz, the bay of which was crowded with richly-freighted vessels. In order, meanwhile, to gratify the people, the clergy were directed to proceed against the Catho- lics, who were forbidden to go further than five miles from their place of abode, without previous permission, were ordered to recall from the continent the children whom they had sent there to be educated, and were disarmed. The commons de- manded their own liberties ; they were given, instead, a little tyranny over their enemies. This contemptible expedient did not content them : besides, the persecution, even of the Catholics, was equivocal, and mat- ter of suspicion ; the king sold them dispensations, or granted them pardons, under his own hand. The loan brought but little money to the treasury ; the expedition against Cadiz failed ; the public attributed the failure to the unskilfulness of the admiral and the drunkenness of the troops ; the govern- ment was accused of neither knowing how to choose its generals, nor how to regulate the conduct of its soldiers. Six months had scarcely passed, when a second parliament was thought necessary (Feb. 6, 1626). Rancor had not yet taken deep root in the soul of the young king ; and his des- potism was at once self-confident and timid. He thought the commons would be delighted to return so soon ; perhaps he even hoped that the firmness he had shown would render them more docile. He had, moreover, taken measures to keep from parliament the most popular orators. The earl of Bristol, a personal enemy of the duke of Buckingham, received no summons to attend. Sir Edward Coke, Sir Robert Philips, Sir Thomas Wentworth, Sir Francis Seymour,* and others, being named sheriffs of their counties, could not be elected for them. It was not doubted but in their absence the commons would be submissive ; for the people love the king, it was said ; 'tis only a few factious men that lead them astray. But the commons, too, had their notion that the king was being led astray, and that to restore him to his people, it was only necessary to remove him from the favorite. The first * Seven in all : the three others, of less note, were Sir Grev Palmer, Sir William Fleetwood, and Mr. Edward Alford. \. parliament had limited itself to exacting from the throne, by delaying the subsidies, the redress of public grievances. The present resolved to assail, at the very foot of the throne, the author of their grievances. The duke of Buckingham was impeached (Feb. 21). The duke was one of those men who seem bom to shine in courts, and to displease nations. Handsome, presumptuous, magnificent, frivolous, but daring, sincere and warm in his attachments, open and haughty in his hatreds, alike incapable of virtue or hypocrisy, he governed without political design, troubling himself neither about the interests of the country, nor even those of power, wholly occupied with his own great- ness and with exhibiting, in dazzling display, his co-royalty. On one occasion he had endeavored to render himself popular, and had succeeded : the rupture of the intended marriage of Charles with the infanta was his work. But public favor was, with him, only a means of obtaining ascendency over the king, so that when public favor quitted him, he scarcely observed its loss, so full of proud joy was he at retaining over Charles the influence he had insolently exercised over James I. He had no talent whereby to support his ambition ; frivolous passions were the sole aim of his intrigues ; to seduce a woman, to ruin a rival, he compromised with arrogant carelessness, now the king, now the country. The empire of such a man seemed to a people becoming, day by day, more grave and serious, an insult as well as a calamity ; and the duke con- tinued to usurp the highest oflices of the state,* without appear- ing, even in the eyes of the populace, anything better than an upstart without glory — a daring and incapable favorite. The attack of the commons was violent : it was difficult to prove against Buckingham any legal crime ; the house re- solved (Apr. 22), that public report alone was sufficient * He was duke, marquis, and earl of Buckingham, earl of Coventry, viscount Villiers, baron of Whaddon, lord high admiral of England and Ireland, governor-general of the seas and navy, master of the horse, lieutenant-general-admiral, commander-in-chief, warden of the cinque ports, governor of Dover castle, keeper of the royal forests south of Trent, lord high keeper, high steward of Westminster, constable of Windsor castle, gentleman of the bedchamber, knight of the garter, privy councillor, &c. The royal domains he had managed to have given him were valued at 284,395/., &c.— Brodie, Hist, of the British Empire, &c., ii., 122. 40 HrSTORY OF THE 111 I. f n If jl ij:' ground on which to proceed ; and it collected together all the leading charges adduced by general rumor.* The duke repelled them— most of them, at all events — satisfactorily, but without any advantage to himself. It was misgovemment that the commons wished to reform. Innocent of theft, mur- der, or treason, Buckingham was not less pernicious. The boldness of the commons gave courage to court enmities. ThQ earl of Bristol, in March, 1626, complained of not having been summoned to parliament.f Buckingham, who feared, wished to keep him at a distance. The lords acknowledged the earl's right, and Charles sent him a summons, but accom- panied it with an order to remain on his estates. The earl appealed a second time to the house of lords, beseeching them to examine whether the liberties of all the peers of the realm did not require that he should come and take his seat. The king immediately impeached him of high treason (May 1).^ In self-defence, Bristol, in his turn, impeached Buckingham ;§ and Charles saw his favorite pursued at once by the represen- tatives of the people and by an old courtier. It was a step at once endangering his power, and deeply offensive to his pride. They had not been able to convict Buckingham of any crime : this blow, then, was aimed at his minister and his friend. He said to the commons : " I must let you know, that I will not allow any of my servants to be questioned amongst you, much less such as are of eminent place and near unto me. The old question was, * What shall be done to the man whom the king will honor V But now it hath been the labor of some to seek what may be done against him whom the king thinks fit to honor. I see you specially aim at the duke of Buckingham ; I wonder what hath so altered your affections towards him. I do well remember, that in the last parliament, in my father's time, when he was the instrument to break the treaties, all of you (and yet I cannot say all, for I know some of you are changed, but yet the house of commons is always the same) did so much honor and respect him, that all the honor conferred on him was too little; and what he hath done since to alter and change your minds, I wot not ; but can assure you he hath not med- dled, or done anything concerning the public or commonwealth, • Pari. Hist. , ii. , 32. f lb. , 72. J lb. , 79. § lb. , 86. ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 41 but by special directions and appointment, and as my servant ;• and is so far from gaining or improving his estate thereby, that I verily think he hath rather impaired the same. I wish you would hasten my supply, or else it will be worse for yourselves ; for if any ill happen, I think I shall be the last that shall feel it."* At the same time, he forbade the judges to answer the questions which the upper house had submitted to them upon a point in the earl of Bristol's"!* case, fearing their answer would be in that nobleman's favor. The judges were silent ; but the commons did not desist. Eight of its members were appointed to support, in a confer- ence with the upper house, the impeachment of Buckingham (May 3). J As soon as the conference was over, the king caused two of the commissioners, sir Dudley Digges and sir John Eliot, to be sent to the Tower for insolence of speech§ (May 11). The incensed commons declared they would do nothing till these gentlemen were set at liberty. || In vain the friends of the court sought to frighten them as to the fate of parliament itself IF (May 13) ; their threats only appeared an insult, and they were fain to offer to the house an apology for having in- sinuated that the king might very likely be tempted to govern alone, like the princes on the continent. The two prisoners speedily quitted the Tower. On its part, the lords demanded also that lord Arundel, whom the king had caused to be arrested during the sitting of Parliament, should be set at liberty, and Charles here, in like manner, gave way** (June 8). Wearied of seeing himself defeated by adversaries whom he had himself called together and could disperse, after trying the efFectof various overtures of civility which were always receiv- ed with great delight, but which, meaning nothing, prevented nothing, hearing that the commons were preparing a general remonstrance, Charles resolved to relieve himself from a position that humiliated him in the eyes of Europe and in his own. A rumor went abroad that Parliament was about to be dis- solved. The upper house, which began to seek popular * Pari. Hist., ii., 49. f Ibid., 106. X Journals, Commons. They were, sir Dudley Digges, Mr. Herbert, Mr. Selden, Mr. Glanville, Mr. Pym, Mr. Whitby, Mr. Wandesford, and sir John Eliot. § P. Hist., ii., 103. II lb., 119. IT lb., 120. ** lb., 132. 4* k 42 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 43 13 :! J ^|l' favor, hastened to address a petition to the king to dissuade him from this design ; and all the peers accompanied the com- mittee charged with its presentation. ** No, not a minute !'' exclaimed Charles. The dissolution was immediately de- clared* (June 15), and a royal proclamation explained the reasons for it. The projected remonstrance of the commons was publicly burnt, and whoever possessed a copy of it, was ordered to burn it also.f Lord Arundel was placed under arrest in his own house, Bristol in the Tower ; J the duke of Buckingham thought himself saved, and Charles felt himself a king. His joy was as short as his foresight : absolute power has also its necessities. Engaged in a ruinous war against Spain and Austria, CharleS had not at his disposal an army which he could employ in conquering at the same time his enemies and his subjects. Few and badly disciplined, his troops were exceedingly expensive ; puritanism reigned in the navy ; he dared not trust the militia, far more under the influence of the citizens and country gentlemen than the king. He had removed adversaries, but not embarrassments and obstacles ; and the insane pride of Buckingham now created new troubles. To avenge himself on the cardinal de Richelieu, who had prevented him from returning to Paris, to follow up his daring success with Anne of Austria, he induced his master to enter into a war with France. The interests of protestantism served as a pretext ; it was essential to save Rochelle, then under siege, or the French protestants would be lost. It was hoped that, for this cause, the people would passionately arm them- selves ; or, at least, would suffer themselves to be oppressed without resistance. A general loan was ordered, of the same amount as the subsidies which parliament had promised, but not voted. The commissioners were enjoined to interrogate the refractory as to the grounds of their refusal, to learn who had persuaded them, by what arguments, with what design. This was at once an attack upon property and an inquisition into opinion. Several regiments were spread over different counties, and quartered upon the inhabitants. The seaports and maritime districts received orders to furnish vessels armed and equipped, ♦P. Hist, ii., 193. \ lb., 207. t lb., 193. the first attempt at ship-money. Twenty were demanded from the city of London ; the corporation replied, that to repel the armada of Philip IL, queen Elizabeth had required fewer: the answer to this was, that " the precedents in former times were obedience and not direction."* To justify this language, the doctrine of passive obedience was ordered to be everywhere preached up. The archbishop of Canterbury, George Abbot, a popular prelate, refused to license the sale in his diocese of a sermon (by Dr. Sibthorp) in support of absolute power ; he was suspended, and relegated to Canterbury. f It soon appeared that too much had been presumed on the passions of the people ; they did not permit themselves to be persuaded to forget their liberty for the sake of their creed. Besides, they distrusted the sincerity of this new zeal ; leave them free, let a parliament be called, they would lend their reformed brethren on the continent much more solid aid. Many citizens refused to contribute to the loan ; some, obscure and powerless, were pressed into the fleet or army ; others were cast into prison, or charged with distant missions which they were not in a position to reject. Discontent, though as yet not breaki ng o ut into sedition, did not confine itself to murmurs only, (rive gentlemen, detained in custody by an order in council, claimed of the court of king's bench, as the inherent right of every Englishman, to be discharged on bail.:]: An imperious king and an irritated nation alike pressed the case on to judgment. The king required of the judges to declare, as a principle, that no man arrested by his orders should be admitted to bail ; the people demanded to know whether all security was withheld from the defenders of their liberties ? The court of justice rejected the application (Nov. 28, 1627), and sent the parties back to prison ; but without laying down the general principle the king desired : already, struck with a double fear, the magistrates dared not show themselves either servile or just ; and, to obviate as they best * Whitelocke, Memorial of English Affairs (London, 1G82), p. 7. f lb., p. 8. . - } Their names were, sir Thomas Darnel, sir John Corbet, sir Walter Earl, sir John Heveningham, and sir Edward Hampden (Rushworth, Historical Collections, London, 1659 ; i., 458). This last must not be mistaken for his cousin, John Hampden, afterwards so celebrated. 44 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 45 ■* 111 ]" might the dilemma, they refused to despotism their consent, to liberty their aid. In their jealous ardor to maintain all their rights, the people took under their protection even the soldiers who served as the instruments of tyranny. In every direction, complaints were raised of the excesses of these men : to repress them, martial law was enforced. The people took it ill that so arbitrary a power should be exercised without the sanction of parliament, and that Englishmen, soldiers or otherwise^ whether employed in persecuting or in protecting their fellow-citizens, should bo deprived of the security o^ the law. In the midst of this irritation, as yet impotent, but more and more aggressive, news came that the expedition sent to the succor of Rochelle, and which Buckingham commanded in person, had failed (Oct. 28). The unskilfulness of the general had caused this failure ; he had neither been able to take the isle of Re,. nor to re-embark without losing the best of his troops, officers and soldiers. It was long since England had paid so dear for so much disgrace.* In country and town, a multitude of families, beloved and respected by the people, were in mourning. The indignation was universal. The laborer left his fields, the apprentice his shop, to see whether his employer, gentleman or citizen, had not lost a brother, or son ; and returned, cursing Buckingham, and accusing the king, to relate to his neighbors the disasters he had .heard described, the general sorrow he had witnessed. Losses of another kind came to embitter men's minds; the enemy's navy harassed and interrupted English commerce ; its vessels remained in port ; the unemployed sailors talked over the reverses of the royal navy, and the causes of their own inaction. From day to day, the gentry, the citizens, the populace, became more closely united in one common resent- ment. Buckingham, on his return, notwithstanding his arrogance, felt the weight of public hatred and the necessity of saving himself from it ; besides which, some expedient must be found, to remove, these embarrassments, to procure money. In the way of tyrannical force, all that could be done or thought of * The disaster is painted with a great deal of energy in a letter from HoUis to sir Thomas Wentworth, of the 19th of November, 1627. Strafford's Letters and Despatches (London, 1739), i., 44. had been exhausted. Sir Robert Cotton, as the mildest of* the popular party, was called in to council the king. He spoke with wisdom and frankness, insisted on the just griev- ances of the nation, on the necessity of redressing them in order to obtain its support, and recalled the words of Lord Burleigh to queen Elizabeth : '^ Win their hearts, and you may have their hands and purses."* He advised the calling a fresh parliament, and to reconcile the duke of Buckingham with the public, it was agreed, that in the council where this resolution should be officially adopted, its proposition should proceed from him. The king acceded to sir Hobert's sug- gestion. The prisons were thrown open ;t men who had been cast into them for their resistance to tyranny were suddenly re- leased — insulted yesterday, powerful to-day. The public received them with transport; twenty-seven of them were elected. Parliament met (March 17, 1628). " Every man,"^ said the king, at the opening of the session, " must now do ac- cording to his conscience, wherefore if you (which God forbid) should not do your duties in contributing what the state at this time needs, I must, in discharge of my conscience, use those other means, which God hath put into my hands, to save that which the follies of some particular men may otherwise hazard to lose. Take not this as a threatening (for I scorn to threaten any but my equals), but an admonition from him that, both out of nature and duty, hath most care of your preservation ^nd prosperities.":!: The lord-keeper speaking after the king, added : " This mode (of supply), as his majesty hath told you, he hath chosen, not as the only way, but as the fittest ; not as destitute of others, but as most agreeable to the goodness of his own most gracious disposition, and to the desire and weal of his people. If this be deferred, necessity and the sword of the enemy will make way to the others. Remember his majesty's admonition ; I say, remember it."§ Thus Charles sought by his language to disguise his situa- tion : a haughty solicitor, sinking under the weight of his faults fend failures, he made a threatening display of independent * Pari. Hist., ii., 212. t Seventy-eight prisoners were at that time released. Rushworth, i.,473. X Pari. Hist, ii., 218. § lb. 221. 46 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 47 majesty, absolute, superior to all faults, all reverses, a He was SO infatuated with this idea, that it never entered into his con- ception, that his state was liable to injury ; and full of genuine pride, he thought it due to his honor, to his rank, to reserve to himself the rights, and not to depart from the language of tyranny, even while appealing for the aid of liberty^ nhhe commons were not at all disturbed at his threats ; thoughts no less proud, no less inflexible than his own, filled their soulsj They were resolved solemnly to proclaim their liberties, to compel power to acknowledge them original and independent, no longer to suffer that any right should pass for a concession, any abuse for a right. Neither leaders nor soldiers were wanting for this great design. The whole nation pressed round the parliament. Within its walls, talented and daring men advised together for the national good. Sir Ed- ward Coke, the glory of the Bench, no less illustrious for his firmness than for his learning* sir Thomas Wentworth,t afterwards earl of Strafford, young, ardent, eloquent, born to command, and whose ambition was then satisfied with the ad- miration of his country ; Denzil HoUis,:!: the younger son ot lord Clare, companion in childhood of Charles, but the sincere friend of liberty, and too proud to serve under a favorite ; Pym, a learned lawyer, especially versed in the knowledge of the rights and customs of parliament,^ a cool and daring man, of a character fitted to act as the cautious leader of popular pas- sions, with many others, destined at a future period, of which none of them had the slightest idea, for such various fortunes, to be the adherents of such utterly opposed parties, yet now united by common principles and com.mon aspirations. To this formidable coalition the court could only oppose the power of habit, the capricious temerity of Buckingham, and the haughty obstinacy of the king. r The first intercourse of the prince and the parliament was friendly. Notwithstanding his menacing attitude, Charles felt that he must give way ; and, while determined to regain all their rights, the commons had the full intention of showing their devotedness to him. Charles was not offended by their * Born at Mileham, Norfolk, 1549 ; he was then 78 years of age. t Born in London, April 13, 1593; he was then 35 years of age. X Born in 1597, at Houghton, Nottinghamshire; he was then 31 years old. * § Born in 1584, in Somersetshire ; he was then 44 years old. freedom of speech ; and the speeches were as loyal as they- were free. \ " I humbly beseech this house," said sir B. Rud- yard* (March 22), " to be curiously wary and careful to avoid all manner of contestation, personal or real. The hearts of kings are great, as are their fortunes ; then are they fitted to yield when they are yielded unto. Itjs comely and mannerly that princes, in all fair appearance, should have the better of their subjects. Let us give the king a way to come off like himself; for I do verily believe, that he doth with longing ex- pect the occasion. The way to show we are the wise coun- cillors we should be, is to take a right course to attain the end of our councils, which, in my opinion, may by this means be compassed ; by trusting the king, thereby to breed a trust in him towards us." All were not equally animated by these peaceful ideas ; there were some sterner minds, which antici- pated less fearful evils from a fresh rupture, and better appre- ciated the incurable nature of absolute power. All, however, showed themselves animated with the same wishes ; and the house, taking into consideration, on equal terms, the grievances of the people and the wants of the throne, after a fortnight's session, unanimously voted (April 14) a considerable subsidy, but without passing the vote into a law. Charles's joy was extreme ; he forthwith . assernbjed the council, and informing it of the vote of the house : »" I liked parliaments, at first," said he, " yet since, I know not how, I have grown to a distaste of them ; but now I am where I was before-; I love them, and shall rejoice to meet with my people often. This day I have gained more reputation in Christen- dom than if I had won many battles.'^ Thesame joy was displayed by the council ; Buckingham thought he must, as well as Charles, emphatically express his gratification; he felicitated the king on so happy a concord with Parliament. " This," said he, "is not a gift of five subsidies alone, but the opening of a mine of subsidies, that lieth in their hearts. And now to open my heart and to ease my grief, please you to par- don me a word more nTmust confess I have long lived in pain ; sleep hath given me no rest — favors, fortunes no content, such have been my secret sorrows, to be thought the man of sepa- ration, that divided the king from his people, and them from * Pari. Hist., ii., 235. . 'v i J.i' I ■J' 10 48 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 49 him j but I hope it ^all appear they were some mistaken minds that would have made me the evil spirit that walketh between a good master and loyal people, by ill offices; where- as, by your majesty's favor, I shall ever endeavor to prove myself a good spirit, breathing nothing but the best services to them all."*J The secretary of state, Cooke, reported (April 7) to the house the kind's satisfaction, and the favor that in all things he was ready to show to parliament. The commons congratulated themselves on this ; but Cooke, with the short-sighted meanness of a courtier, also spoke of the duke of Buckingham, and his speech in the council : the house was offended. " Is it that any ^ man," said sir John Eliot, " conceives the mention of others, of what quality soever, can add encouragement or affection to us in our duties and loyalties towards his Majesty, or give them greater latitude or extent than naturally they have ; or is it to be supposed that the power or interest of any man can add more readiness to his majesty than this gracious inclination towards us gives him ? I cannot believe it. I shall readily commend, nay, thank that man, whose endeavors are applied to such offices as may be advantageable for the public ; yet, in this manner, so contrary to the customs of our fathers, and the honor of our times, as I cannot without scandal, apprehend it, so I cannot, without some character of exception, pass it ; and therefore I desire that such interposition may be let alone. Now let us proceed to those services that concern him, which, I doubt not, in the end, will render us so real unto him, that we shall need no other help to endear us to his favor. "f . This just pride appeared to Charles insolence, to Bucking- ham a clear symptom of new perils ; but neither the one nor the other said anything on the subject, and the house pursued its work ^t had entered into a conference with the upper house to de- termine in concert the just rights of subjects, and- to claim a new and solemn sanction of them from the princj (April 3). (Charles, informed of the designs which the commissioners of the commons manifested in these conferences, took great um- bragci He had the house exhorted to hasten the- definitive vote m the subsidies, and his minister addedif (April 12), " 1 • Pari. Hist, ii., 274. t lb., 275. X lb., 278. must with some grief tell you, that notice is taken, as if this" house press, not only upon the abuses of power, but upon power itself: this toucheth the king, and us who are supported by that power. Let the king hear of any abuses of power, he will willingly hear us ; and let us not bend ourselves against the extension of his royal power, but contain ourselves within those bounds, that we meddle only with pressures and abuses of power, and we shall have the best satisfaction that ever king gave.^jj On their part, the peers, servile or timid, persuaded the commons to content themselves with requiring from the king , a declaration, to the effect, that the great charter, with the statutes confirming it, were in full force, that the liberties of the English people also were in force, as in times past, and that the king would make use of the prerogatives inherent in his sovereign power, only for the benefit of his subjects (April 23).* \The king assembled both houses in a solemn sitting, de- clared that he regarded the great charter as inviolate, the ancient statutes as inviolable, and called upon them to rely, for the maintenance of their rights, on his royal word, in which, he said, they would find more security than any new law could give them (April 28). f \ The commons did not allowthemselves to be either intimi- dated or seduced : the recent abuses had braved the power, altogether surpassing the foresight of the old laws ; there must be new, explicit guarantees, invested with the sanction of the whole parliament. It was doing nothing to have vaguely renewed promises, so often broken, statutes so long forgotten. Without wasting many words about the matter, respectful, but inflexible, the house drew up the famous bill, known under the name of the * Petiti on of Right s,* adopted it, and transmitted it to the upper house for its assent (May 8). The lords had nothing to say against a bill which conse- crated acknowledged liberties, or repressed abuses universally condemned. But the king returned to the charge, again de- manding that they should rely on his word, and offering to confirm, by a new bill, the great charter and the ancient • Pari. Hist., ii., 329. 5 t lb., 332.. \ ills 1 I 50 HISTORY OF THE Statutes; addressing advice upon advice to the peers, to the commons message upon message; deeply irritated, but cautious and mild in his speech, proclaiming his firm resolution neither to suffer any restriction in any of his rights, nor to abuse those which he enjoyed. The perplexity of the peers was great. How secure the liberties of the people, without depriving the king of absolute power? for such was the question. They tried an amend- ment : the bill was adopted with this addition : " We humbly present this petition to your majesty, not only with a care ot preserving our own liberties, but with due regard to leave entire that sovereign power wherewith your majesty is trusted for the protection, safety, and happiness of your people (May 17).* ^ , When the bill thus amended came back to the commons : " Let us look unto the records," said Mr. Alford, " and see what they are : what is * sovereign power V Bodin saith, that it is free from any conditions. By this we shall acknowledge a regal as well as a legal power ; let us give that to the king the law gives him, and no more." " I am not able, said Pym, " to speak to this question, for I know not what it is. All our petition is for the laws of England ; and this power seems to be another distinct power from the power of the law. I know how to add ' sovereign ' to the king's person, but not to^ his power ; and we cannot leave to him a ' sovereign power, lor we never were possessed of it." *' If we do admit of this addition," said Sir Thomas Wentworth, " we shall leave the subject worse than we found him. Our law^ are not ac- qainted with * sovereign power' " (May 17).t The commons kept their ground ; the public became more and more pressing ; the peers, not bold enough to demand liberty openly, were not bold enough either to sanction tyranny. They withdrew their amendment out' of regard for them ; an 'unmeaning phrase was substituted for it, and the petition of rights, adopted by both houses, was solemnly presented to the king, who, conquered himself, at last promised to receive it (May 28). • x i j-j ♦ His answer (June 2) was vague, evasive ;$ he did not sanction the bill, and only repeated what the house had re- fused to be content with. ♦ Pari. Hist., ii.. 355. t lb. t lb., 374. ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 51 Victory seemed gliding away from the commons ; on meet- ing next day, they renewed the attack (June 3).* Sir John Eliot passionately recapitulated all the national grievances ; the usher had orders to remain at the door, to see that no member went out, under pain of being sent to the Tower. It wets re- solved that a general remonstrance should be presented to the king ; the committee of subsidies was charged with the draw- ing it up. At this point, fear came over some of the members, that legitimate fear which arises at the prospect of mighty convul- sion, and without asking who is in the right, or what is to be done, calls out to pause, when its party begins to rush forward with what it deems precipitate passion. Sir John Eliot was charged with being actuated by personal enmity ; sir Thomas Wentworth, with imprudence ; sir Edward Coke, they said, had always been obstinate and intractable.^ The king thought this state of things might give him a respite, if not the means of fully recovering his ground. He forbade the house hence- forth to meddle with affairs of state (June 5).:]: The whole house was in a consternation ; this was too much, an insult in the opinion of even the most moderate. All were silent : " Our sins are so exceeding great," at length said sir John Eliot, " that unless we speedily turn to God, God will remove himself further from us ; ye know with what affection and integrity we have proceeded hitherto to have gained his majesty's heart ! I doubt a mis- representation to his majesty hath drawn this mark of his displeasure upon us. It is said also, as if we cast some asper- sions on his majesty's ministers ; I am confident no minister, how dear soever, can — >) At these words, the speaker suddenly rose from his chair, and said, with tears in his eyes, " There is a command laid upon me to interrupt any that should go about to lay an aspersion on the ministers of state." Upon this sir John sat down. Sir Dudley Digges said, " Unless we may speak of these things in parliament, let us arise and be gone, or stit still and do nothing." Hereupon there was a deep silence in the house, which was broken by ♦Pari. Hist, ii., 380. t lb., 385. X lb., 401. *■ . i*: II! A Ml ::hll! I'l i i 52 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 53 Sir Nathaniel Rich; " We must now speak, or for ever hold our peace," said he ; " for us to be silent when king and kingdom are in this calamity is not fit. The question is, shall we secure ourselves by silence ; yea or nay ? I know it is more for our own security, but it is not for the security of those whom we serve. Let us think on them : some instru- ments desire a change ; we fear his majesty's safety and the safety of the kingdom. Shall we sit still and do nothing, and so be scattered. Let us go to the lords and show our dangers, that we may then go to the king together, with our representations thereof." Suddenly the house passed from stupor to rage. All the members rose, all spoke at once, amidst utter confusion. " The king," said Mr. Kirton, " is as good a prince as ever reigned; it is the enemies to the commonwealth that have so prevailed with him ; therefore let us aim now to discover them ; and I doubt not but God will send us hearts, hands, and swords, to cut all his and our enemies' throats." — " It is not the king," answered old Coke, " but the duke (a great cry of, " 'Tis he, 'tis he ! " was shouted on all sides) that saith, ' We require you not to meddle with state government, or the ministers thereof.' "* The speaker had left his chair ; disorder increased, and no one attempted to calm it, for the most prudent men had nothing to say ; anger is sometimes legitimate, even in the eyes of those who never get into a passion themselves. While the house, a prey to this tumult, was meditating the most violent resolutions, the speaker went out secretly, and hastened to inform the king of his imminent peril. f Fear passed from the house to the court. The next day a milder message was sent, in explanation of the one which had caused such irritation 4 but words were not enough. The commons remained much agitated ; they discussed the sub- ject of the German troops, already levied by Buckingham, and who were shortly to disembark ; one member affirmed that, the evening before, twelve German officers had arrived in London, and that two English vessels had received orders to bring over the soldiers.^ The subsidies were still in suspense. Charles and his favorite feared longer to brave • Pari. Hist, ii., 403. t lb. % lb., 406. § lb., 408. an opposition daily more powerful. They made no doubt- that the full sanction of the petition of rights would suffice to calm everything. The king went to the house of lords, where the commons were also assembled (7 June). They had been mistaken, he said, in supposing that in his first answer there was any by-view, and he was ready to give one that would dissipate all suspicion. The petition was read anew, and Charles answered by the usual form — " Soit fait droit comme il est desire." The commons returned triumphant ; they had at last achieved the solemn acknowledgment of the liberties of the English people. To this all publicity must be given ; it was resolved that the petition of rights, printed with the king's last answer, should be diffused all over the country, and enrolled, not only in both houses, but also in the courts of Westminster. The bill of subsidies was definitively adopted. Charles thought his trials were over : " I have done my part," said he ; " wherefore if this parliament hath not a happy conclusion, the sin is yours ; I am free of it."* But an old evil is not so soon cured, and the ambition of an irritated nation is not appeased with a first success. The passing of the bill of rights was evidently not sufficient. The reform of principles only was accomplished ; this was nothing without reform in practice ; and to secure this, there must be a reform of the king's council. Now Buckingham still kept his position, and the king continued to levy the customs duties without the sanction of parliament. Enlightened by experi- ence as to the danger of delay, blinded by passion as to that of too abrupt and too harsh demands, pride and hatred com- bining with the instinct of necessity, the commons resolved to deal without delay the last blows. In a week two new re- monstrances were drawn up, one against the duke, the other to establish that tonnage and poundage, like other taxes, might only be levied by law (13 and 21 June).f The king lost all patience, and, resolved to give himself at least some respite, he went to the house of lords, had the com- mons summoned, and prorogued the parliament (June 26). Two months afterwards, the duke of Buckingham was murdered (Aug. 23). Sewn up in the hat of Felton, his as- ♦Parl. Hist., ii., 409. 5* fib., 420,431. Il 1 tl- 54 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 5& sassin, was found a paper, in which the last remonstrance of the house was referred to.* Felton did not fly, or defend himself; he merely said that he regarded the duke as the enemy of the kingdom, shook his head when spoken to about accomplices, and died with composure, confessing, how- ever, that he had done wrong.f Charles was greatly disturbed at the murder, and indignant at the joy which the multitude manifested at it. Upon the close of the session, he had endeavored to gratify the public feeling, by restraining the preachers of passive obedience, and especially by severities against the papists, the scape-goats of every reconciliation between the prince and the country. The assassination of Buckingham, in which the people saw their deliverance, threw the king back into tyranny. He re- stored his favor to the adversaries of parliament : Dr. Mon- tague, whom the commons had prosecuted, was promoted to the bishopric of Chichester; Dr. Mainwaring, whom the house of lords had condemned, received a rich benefice; bishop Laud,:|: already famous for passionate devotion to the principle of high power in king and church, passed to the see of London. The king's public conduct corresponded with these court favors : tonnage and poundage were levied with rigor ; and the irregular tribunals continued to suspend the course of law. Returned thus noiselessly to the path of despotism, Charles had now somewhat more prospect of suc- cess than before : he had detached from the popular party the most brilliant of its leaders, the most eloquent of its orators. Sir Thomas Wentworth, created a baron, entered the privy council, despite the reproaches, nay, the threats, of his former friends : " I shall meet you in Westminster Hall," said Pym to him, bidding him adieu at their last friendly interview ; but Wentworth, ambitious and haughty, dashed passionately on towards greatness, far from foreseeing how odious, how fatal, he would one day be to liberty. Other de- fections followed his;§ and Charles, surrounded with new councillors, more staid, more able, less decried than Buck- ingham, saw without apprehension the approach of the second session of parliament (20 Jan., 1629). •Appendix No. II. t Clarendon, i., 53 ; State Trials, iii., 371. X Born at Reading, 1573. He was at this time bishop of Bath and Wells. , . , . § Sir Dudley Digges, Sir Edw. Lyttleton, Noy, Wandesford, &c. The commons had scarcely assembled before they proceed-, ed to ascertain what effect had been given to the bill of rights (21 Jan.). They learned that instead of the king's second answer, it was the first, the evasive and rejected one, which had been added to it. Norton, the king's printer, owned that the very day after the prorogation, he had received orders thus to alter the legal text, and to suppress all the copies which contained the true answer, that of which Charles had boasted, when he said, " I have done my part ; I am free of it." The commons sent for the papers, verified the fact of the alteration, and said no more about it, as if ashamed to expose too publicly so gross a violation of faith : but their silence did not promise oblivion.* All the attacks were renewed against the toleration of pa- pists, the favor granted to false doctrines, the depravation of morals, the ill distribution of dignities and employments, the proceedings of the irregular courts, the contempt of the liber- ties of subjects."!" J •* So great was the excitement of the house, that one day it listened in silence and with favor to a man new to them, badly dressed, of a common appearance, who, addressing them for the first time, denounced, in furious and very indifferent lan- guage, the indulgence of a bishop to some obscure preacher, a rank papist, as he called him. This man was Oliver Crom- wellj (Feb. 11). Charles essayed in vain to wrest from the commons the con- cession of the tonnage and poundage duties, the only object for which he had assembled them. He employed new threats, new persuasions, admitting, that he held these taxes, like all Others, of the pure gift of his people, and that to parliament alone it belonged to establish them, but insisted, at the same time, that they should be granted him for the whole of his reign, as they had been to most of his predecessors. § The commons were inflexible ; this was the only weapon of de- fence against absolute power which remained to them. With one excuse after another they persevered in delay, and daily set forth their grievances, but without any exact aim, without ♦Pari. Hist, ii., 435. X lb., 464 : Memoirs of Warwick, 247. fib., 438, 466, 473. § Pari. Hist,, ii., 442. 66 HISTORY OF THE i h* W'i putting forward, as in the preceding session, any clear and precise propositions, for they were all this time a prey to vio- lent but vague agitations, disturbed with the sensation of an evil they knew not how to cure. The king grew impatient ; they refused his demand without proffering any of their own, without laying any application before him, which he might reject or sanction ; it had, he felt, an air of pure malevolence, of being a mere plan for impeding his government. Mention was made that he intended to prorogue parliament. Sir John Eliot at once (March 2) proposed a new remonstrance against the levying of the duties in dispute. The speaker, alleging an order from the king, refused to put the motion to the vote. The house insisted : he left the chair. HoUis, Valentine, and other members, forced him back to it, despite the efforts of the court party, who endeavored to rescue him from their hands. *' God's wounds,'' said HoUis, " you shall sit till it please the house to rise." " I will not say I will not," cried the speaker, " but I dare not." But passion was now without curb ; they compelled him to resume his seat. The king,, informed of the tumult, sent orders to the serjeant-at-arms to withdraw with the mace, which, by custom, would suspend all deliberation : the Serjeant was kept in his chair like the speaker, the keys of the hall were taken from him, and a member, sir Miles Hobart, took charge of them. The king sent a second mes- senger to announce the dissolution of parliament ; he found the doors locked on the inside, and could not gain admittance. Charles, in a paroxysm of fury, sent for the captain of his guards, and ordered him to go and force the doors. ButTln" the interval, the commons had retired, after having carried a resolution which declared the levying of tonnage and pound- age illegal, and those guilty of high treason who should levy or even pay them.* All accommodation was impossible : the king went to the house of lords, 10th March. " I never came here," said he, "on so unpleasing an occasion, it being for the dissolution of parliament ; the disobedient carriage of the lower house had alone caused this dissolution. Yet they would mistake me wonderfully that think I lay the fault equally upon all the lower house ; for, as I know, there are many as dutiful and • Pari. Hist, ii., 487—491. ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 67 loyal subjects as any are in the world, so I know it is only some vipers amongst them that have cast this mist of dif- ference before their eyes. As those evil affected persons must look for their reward, so you that are here of the higher house, may justly claim from me that protection and favor that a good king oweth to his loyal and faithful nobility."* The dissolution was pronounced. Immediately afterwards, appeared a proclamation, setting forth : " That whereas, for several ill ends, the calling again of a parliament is divulged, howsoever his majesty hath showed, by his frequent meeting with his people, his love to the use of parliaments ; yet this late abuse having, for the present, driven his majesty unwil- lingly out of that course, it will be considered presumption for any one to prescribe to him any time for the calling of that assembly, "f Charles kept his word, and now only occupied himself with the project of governing alone. * Pari. Hist, 492. t Ibid., 525. 58 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 59 BOOK THE SECOND. 1629—1640. Intentions of the king and his council — Prosecution of the leading members of Parliament— Apparent apathy of the country— Struggle of the ministry and court — The queen — Strafford — Laud — -Want of cohesion in, and discredit of government — Civil and religious tyranny — Its effects on the different classes of the nation — Trial of Prynne, Burton, and Bastw^ick— Of Hampden — Insurrection of Scot- land — First war with the Scots — Peace of Berv^ick — Short parlia- ment of 1640 — Second war vfith Scotland — Its bad success — Convo- cation of the long parliament. Nothing is so dangerous as to take a system of government as it were on trial, with the idea that one may at any time resort to another. Charles had committed this fault. He had attempted to govern in concert with the parliament ; but "vyith the full persuasion, however, as he frequently intimated, that if parliament was too troublesome he should be able to do perfectly well without it. He entered upon the career of despotism with the same heedlessness, proclaiming his inten- tion to adhere to it, but fully believing that, after all, if neces- sity became too strong for him, he could at any time have recourse to parliament. His most able councillors were of the same opinion. Neither Charles nor any about him had, at this time, conceived the design of abolishing for ever the ancient laws of England, the great national council. Short-sighted rather than enter- prising, insolent rather than absolutely ill-intentioned, Iheir words, and even their acts, were more daring than their thoughts. The king, they said, had shown himself just and kind towards his people ; he had yielded a great deal, granted a great deal. But nothing would satisfy the commons ; they required the king to become their dependent, their ward ; this he could not do, without ceasing to be king. When the prince and parliament could not manage to agree, it was for the par- liament to give way ; for the prince alone was sovereign. Since the commons would not give way, he must perforce govern without them ; the necessity was evident ; sooner or later the people would understand this, and then, parliament having become wiser, there would be nothing to prevent the king's recalling it, in case of need. With still less foresight than the council, the court only saw in the dissolution a deliverance from difficulty. While the house of commons was sitting, the courtiers were by no means at ease ; none of them dared to push boldly their for- tune, nor enjoy their credit freely. The embarrassments of power impeded the intrigues, and spread a gloom over the festivities of Whitehall. The king was thoughtful, the queen intimidated. Parliament dissolved, this uneasiness and restraint disappeared ; frivolous grandeur reassumed its bril- liancy, and private ambition its full swing. The court asked for nothing beyond this ; and troubled itself in no degree to inquire whether, in the prosecution of its immediate object, it was not aiding to bring about a change in the government of the country. Thejifiople judged otherwise : the dissolution was, in their eyes, a sure symptom of a deep-laid scheme, of a resolution to destroy parliaments. The commons had no sooner sepa- rated, than, at Hampton Court, Whitehall, wherever the court assembled, the papists, secret or avowed, the preachers and adherents of absolute power, the men of intrigue and pleasure, indifferent to all creeds, congratulated one another on their triumph ; whilst in the Tower, and the principal gaols of London and the provinces, the defenders of the pub- lic rights, treated at once .>vith contempt and rigor, were under- going imprisonment, were under impeachment for what they had said or done in the inviolable sanctuary of parliament.* They claimed their privileges, they demanded to be discharged upon bail, and the judges hesitated what to answer, but the king communicated with the judgesf (Sept., 1629), and the application of the prisoners was refused. Their courage did not fail them in this trial : the greater number refused to own themselves guilty of any wrong, or to pay the fines to which ♦ The members arrested were, Denzel Holies, Sir Miles Hobart, Sir John Eliot, Sir Peter Hayman, John Selden, William Coriton, Walter Long, William Stroud, and Benjamin Valentine.— State Trials, iii., 233. t Pari. Hist., ii., 31S, et seq. h 60 HISTORY OF THE they were condemned. They preferred remaining in prison. Sir John Eliot was destined to die there. While this prosecution was going on, public anger continu- ally increased, and did not hesitate openly to manifest itself. It was a sort of continuation of the parliament, vanquished and dispersed, but still struggling before the judges of the country, through the voice of its leaders. The firmness of the accused kept up the ardor of the people, who constantly saw them pass and repass from the Tower to Westminster, and accom- panied them with their acclamations and their prayers. The visible anxiety of the judges afforded some expectation. " All is lost !" was the cry ; yet still the public continued to alter- nate between hope and fear, as in the midst of the battle. But this great trial ended. Frightened or seduced, some of the accused paid the fine, and, ordered to live at least ten miles from the royal residence, retired to conceal their weak- ness in their respective counties. The noble steadfastness of the rest was buried in the depth of their dungeons. The people, who saw and heard no more of them, were themselves no longer seen nor heard. Power, not meeting with open opposition, thought the day all its own, and that the nation, from which it had estranged itself, was prostrate beyond re- covery. Charles hastened to conclude peace with Frajce (April 11, 1629), and Spain (Nov. 5, 1630), and found him- self at last without rivals at home, without enemies abroad. For some time, government was an easy matter enough. The citizens for awhile took heed only to their private in- terests : no discussion, no warm excitement agitated the gentry in their county meetings, the burghers in their town- halls, the sailors in the ports, the apprentices in their shops. It was not that the nation was languishing in apathy, but its activity had taken another direction ; it seemed to have for- gotten in labor the defeat of liberty. Less ardent than haughty, the despotism of Charles interfered with it very slightly in this new state ; the prince meditated no vast designs, he had no uneasy desire for extended and hazardous glory ; he was content to enjoy with dignity his power and his rank. Peace dispensed him from exacting from his subjects heavy sacri- fices ; and the people gave itself up to agriculture, to com- merce, to study, and no ambitious and restless tyranny inter- posed to impede its efforts, or compromise its interests. Public ENGLISH REVOLUTION. \ 61 prosperity accordingly rapidly advanced, order reigned, and this regular and flourishing condition gave to power the appear- ance of wisdom, to the country that of resignation.* It was around the throne and among its servants that the troubles of government recommenced. As soon as the struggle between the king and the people appeared at an end, two parties disputed which should influence the reno- vated despotism ; the queen and the ministry, the court and the council. On her arrival in England, the queen had not disguised the dulness she experienced in her new country. Religion, insti- tutions, customs, language, everything displeased her ; she had even, just after their union, treated her husband with puerile insolence, and Charles, out of all patience with her passionate outbursts of humor, found himself, on one occasion, driven abruptly to send back to the continent some of the attendants whom she had brought over with her (July, 1626). The pleasure of reigning could alone console her for her exile from France ; and she reckoned upon the full enjoyment of this satisfaction from the time she ceased to have the awe of par- liament before her eyes. Agreeable and lively in her manners, she soon acquired over a young king of highly pure principles, an ascendency which he admitted with a sort of gratitude, sensibly touched, as it were, by her consenting to enjoy herself at all in his society. But the happiness of a domestic life, dear to the serious mind of Charles, could not satisfy the frivolous, restless, and hard character of Henrietta Maria ; she wanted an acknowledged, insolent empire — an empire of display, an empire which should be cognizant of all things, and without whose permission nothing should be said or done ; she wanted, in short, power, as power always presents itself to the mind of an arrogant, unthinking woman. Round her rallied, on the one hand, the papists, on the other, the frivo- lously ambitious, the petty intriguers, the young courtiers, who had early gone to Paris to learn the secret of pleasing her. All these professed to her alone to look, the one class for fortune, the other for the triumph, or at all events, the deliverance of their faith. It was in her apartments that the leading papists at home, and the emissaries of Rome, discussed if ♦ Clarendon, i., 126. 6 62 HISTORY OF THB their most secret hopes ; it was there her favorites displayed the notions, manners, and fashions of the continent.* Every- thing there was foreign, and offensive to the creed and customs of the country ; there every day were put forward projects and pretensions that could only be realized by illegal measures or abused favors. The queen took part in these intrigues, assured the plotters of success, claimed sanction for them of the king ; nay, required of him that, in order to honor her, as she said, in the eyes of the people, he should consult her on all occasions, and do nothing without her consent. If the king refused her wishes, she would angrily accuse him, that he neither loved her nor knew how to reign. And then Charles, happy to find her solicitous for his power, or as to his love, had no other thought than to dissipate her grief or her anger. The most servile councillors would scarcely have submitted without resistance to this capricious sway. Charles had two who were deficient neither in mind nor spirit, and who, though devoted to his cause, desired to serve him otherwise than according to the fancies of a woman or the pretensions of a court. In forsaking his party to attach himself to the king, Straf- fordf had not been called upon to sacrifice any very fixed principles, or basely to betray his conscience. Ambitious and ardent, he had been a patriot out of hatred to Buckingham, out of a desire for glory, to display in full lustre his talents and his energy of mind, rather than from any righteous or profound conviction. To act, to rise, to govern, was his aim, or rather the necessity of his nature. Entering the service of the crown, he became as earnest in its cause as he theretofore had been in that of liberty, but it was as a grave, proud, able, unbending minister, not as a frivolous and obsequious courtier. Of a mind too vast to shut itself up in the paltry circle of domestic intrigues, of a pride too hotheaded to give way to court forms and notions, he passionately devoted himself to business, braving all rivalry, breaking down all resistance ; eager to extend and strengthen the royal authority, now • May's History of the Long Parliament. (London, 1647.) Book i., 21. t He was at this period called lord Wentworth — not being created earl of Strafford till the 12th of January, 1640. ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 6d r. become his own, but diligent at the same time to re-establish / order and repress abuses, to put down private interests ^^ LCf}' judged illegal, and promote all such general interests as he f A^ deemed not dangerous to royalty. A fi ery desp ot, still a ll , love of country, Sll desire for its prosperity7ior~ils glory, was" Rorextinct in his heart, and he perfectly comprehended'upoir what conditions, by what means, absolute power must be bought over. An administration arbitrary but powerful, consistent, laborious, holding in scorn the rights of the people, but occupying itself with the public happiness, despising all petty abuses, all minor misgovemment, making subordinate to its will, and to its views, the great equally with the small, the court as well as the nation — ^this was his aim, this the character of his rule, and which he strove to impress on the government of the king. The friend of Straffordy-acphbi^liQlLL.'Wid, with less worldly passions, and a more disinterested ardor, brought into the /^ council the same feelings, the same designs. Austere in his conduct, simple in his life, power, whether he served it or himself wielded it, inspired in his mind a fanatical devotion. To prescribe and to punish, this was in his eyes to establish^ order, aii3~ord6¥~ever"^6emed to him justice. His activity was indefatigable, ijTlt narrow in its views, violent, and harsh. Alike incapable of conciliating opposing interests, and of re- specting rights, he rushed, with head down and eyes closed, at once against liberties and abuses ; opposing to the latter his rigid probity, to the former his furious hate, he was as abrupt and uncompromising with the courtiers as with the citizens ; seeking no man's friendship, anticipating and able to bear no resistance, persuaded, in short, that power is all- sufficient in pure hands ; and constantly the prey of some fixed idea, which ruled him with all the violence of passion, and all the authority of duty. Such councillors suited the new situation of Charles. Standiflig^arLfrom the court, they were less anxious to please it>JhajvlQ.serye their mSst^r ; aiid had neither the pompous., insolence, nor the idle pretensrons _ of the TavoritesT They wefeT persevering, iaborfdus, bold, capable, devoted. The government of Ireland had scarcely passed into the hands of Strafford, ere that kingdom, which had till then been only a trouble and expense to the crown, became a source of riches .^>' / ENGLISH EEVOLUTION. 65 64 HISTORY OF THE and strength. Its public debt was paid ; the revenue, previ- ously collected without system, and squandered without shame, was regularly administered, and soon rose above the expendi- ture ; the nobles were no longer allowed to oppress the people with impunity, or the aristocratic and religious factions to tear each other to pieces, in full liberty, as theretofore. The army, which Strafford found weak, without clothes, without discipline, was recruited, well disciplined, well paid, and ceased to pillage the inhabitants. Favored by order, com- merce flourished, manufactories were established, agriculture advanced. In short, Ireland was governed arbitrarily , harsh ly, often even wltlTodlous violence ; but yet, to the interest^f geiieral civilisation and royal power, instead of Igng^as-fiit- merty, a prey to the greedy extortion of revenue officers, high aM tow, and to the domination of a selfish and ignorant aris- tocracy,* ^ —Invested in England, as to civil affairs, with a less extended y^ and less concentrated authority than that of Strafford in Ire- vF )i land, and less able than his friend, Laud did not fail to pursue hj\,f)^^ ^ the same line of conduct. As cpmrnissioner of the treasury, ' ^ ^ he not only repressed all pilleririgs and illegitirriate'expelidi- ture, but applied himself to the thorough understanding of the various branches of the public revenue, ana to the finding out by what means its collection could be rendered less onerous to the subject. Vexatious impediments, grave abuses, had been introduced into the administration of. the custom duties, for the profit of private interests ; Laud listened to the com- plaints and representations of merchants, employed his leisure in conversing with them, informed himself by degrees as to the general interests of commerce, and freed it from trammels which had materially injured it, without any advantage to the exchequer. In March, 1636, the office of high treasurer was given, on his recommendation, to Juxon, bishop of London, a laborious, moderate-minded man, who put an end to number- less disorders which had alike been injurious to the crown and to the citizens. To serve, as he fancied, the king and the church. Laud was capable of oppressing the people, of giving the most iniquitous advice ; but where neither king nor church was in question, he aimed at good, at truth, and upheld them • See Appendix, III. without fear as to himself, without the slightest consideration for other interests. If, on the one hand, this administration, upright, diligent, but arbitrary, tyrannical, on occasions, and refusing all re- sponsioility, was too little for the country; on the other, it was a great deal too much for the court. Favorites may succeed there ; if they meet with enemies, they also make partisans, and in this conflict of personal interests a skilful intriguer may successfully oppose those he serves to those whom he offends. Such had been Buckingham. But who- ever would govern, whether by despotism or by the laws, in the general interest of king or people, must lay his account to have the hatred of all the courtiers ; and accordingly it arose among them against Strafford and Laud, quite as intense, and infinitely more manoeuvring, than among the people. On Strafford's first appearance at Whitehall, a general sneer curled every lip, at the sudden elevation and somewhat un- polished manners of the country gentleman, who had been more especially heard of as a parliamentary opponent of the court.* The austere manners, the theological pedantry, and the bluntness of Laud, were equally disliked there. Both these men were haughty, inattentive, and by no means aflfable in their manners ; they disdained intrigues, counselled econo- my, and talked of business and necessities which a court does not like to liear about. ^I^iequeenjjoiuieiv an aversion for them^ ibr-lhey impeded heTmHuence with the king ; the high aristocracy took offence at their power; and ere long the whole court united with the people to attack them, joining vigorously in outcries against their tyranny. Charles did not forsake them ; he had full confidence in their devotedness and ability ; their opinions were quite in unison with his own, and he entertained for the profound piety of Laud a respect blended with affection. But in retaining them in his service, despite the court, he was not in a condi- tion to make the court submit to their government. Grave in his deportment and sentiments, his mind was not of sufficient depth or grasp to comprehend the difficulties of absolute power, and the necessity of sacrificing everything to it. Such were, • HowelPs Letters, 1650, Letter 34 ; Strafford's Letters, i., 79 ; Bio- graphia Britannica, in vita. 6* 66 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 67 HI^'- in his eyes, the rights of royalty, that it seemed to him nothmg A 1^ ought to cost him an effort. In the council, .he^p£lied_hixn- selt regularly and with attention, to puWic afi&sj^butjh^ duty fulfilled, he troubled himseTf very little about themjand the necessity of governing was infinitely less present lo his thoughts than the pleasure of reigning. The good or bad temper of the queen, the usages of the court, the prerogatives of the officers of the palace, appeared to him important con- siderations, which the political interests of his crown could not require him to forget. Hence arose, for his ministers, petty but continual annoyances and difficulties, which the king left them to the full endurance of, thinking he did enough for them and for himself by retaining them in their offices. They were charged to exercise absolutism, yet the power to do so failed them the moment they called for some domestic sacrifice, some measure contrary to the forms and rules of Whitehall. All the time of his administration in Ireland, Strafford was constantly called upon for explanations and apologies ; now, he had spoken lightly of the queen, and now again, some influential family had complained of his hauteur ; he had to justify his words, his manners, his character ; all these idle accusations obliged him to reply, from Dublin, to something that had been said, some rumor that was afloat about him in the palace ; and he did not always obtain an as- surance in return, which (setting him at ease as to these minor perils) enabled him to carry on without fear the authority yet left him.* Thus, notwithstanding the energy and zeal of his principal councillors, notwithstanding the tranquil state of the country, notwithstanding the private worth of the king's conduct, and the_proud bearing of his language, the government was with- out strength and without consideration. Assailed by domestic dtsseiisibns, carried away alternately by opposing mfluences, sometimes arrogantly shaking off the yoke of the laws, some- times giving way before the slightest difficulties, it proceeded without any settled plan ; it forgot, at every turn, its own de- ^j^ns. It had abandoned, on the contine nt, the jcause of p rO- lestantismTand had even torpidden lor d ScirgTamo re, its ambas- Jsailor at Faris, to attend d ivme service in the chapel of the • Strafford's Letters, i., 128, 138, 142, 144 ; ii., 42, 105, 126, &c. reformers, because the forms did not come near enough to the - QJEJ of \^^ Kr.gTi'gVi v>hTr rr4T-*: Attitj yetit «Howed the -mafqiiis of Hamilton to raise in Scotland a body of six thousand men, and to go and fight at their head (1631) under the banners of Gustavus Adolphus,f not foreseeing he would there imbibe the principles and creed of the very puritans whom the church of England proscribed. Qharlf^s's faith in the^ re- f^rmpH_rpliginn,^ ^ch as Henry VIII. a nd ElizabeTh h ad made jfTwas sinc ere ^^"nd yet, whether from tenderness to htSTrtfe,"" or from a spirit ot nf D ' dHraUuu 'SKd.TIBTtce^^^^^^^ an instlTicr* oTlvirat suited absolute power, he often granted to the caT^ thollcs, noT only a liberty at that time illegal, but almost' avoweljavox^i Archbishop Laud, as sincere as his master, wrote against the court of Rome, even preached strongly against the worship conducted in the queen's chapel, yet at the same time he showed himself so favorable to the system of the Romish church, that the pope thought himself author- ized to offer him a cardinal's hat (Aug., 1633). j: In th^ conduct of civil affairs^ there reigned the same^mdecision, the sam§ Jaeen&istency. No broad, cl ear pTan was perceptible ; tiQ^lQwerfulJiand made itself unlfomily felt. Despotism was ^pompQUslyjdispla^^, and, on occasion, exercised with rigor ; buTto^i ve it a fi^ fecTTOisTrequired too many efforts, too much ^ perseverance ; it'came^ by degrees, to be left quite out of ' mln3^^S[Iiat its abstract pretensions daily more and more ex-' ceeded itTnteans. The treasury was administered with ordef andprobny7**the king was not wasteful ; yet the want of money was just as great as could have been brought about by the grossest prodigality on the part of the prince, and the worst peculation on the part of his officers ; in the same way that Charles had haughtily refused to yield to parliament, to obtain from it an income sufficient for his expenses, he now thought he should lower himself, by reducing his expenses to a level with his income. § Splend or about the th rp"fti gourt • NeaPs History of the Puritans, 1822 ; ii., 234. t Clarendon, i., 254. J Laud's Diary, p. 49 ; Whitelocke's, 18. 6 The pensions, which, under the reign of Elizabeth, were 18,000/., rose, under James I., to 80,000/. ; and, in 1626, a little more than a year after the accession of Charles I., they already amounted to 120,000/. The expenses of the king's household, in the same interval, had increased from 45,006/. to 80,000/. ; that of the wardrobe had doubled ; that of the privy purse, tripled, &c.-— Rush worth, i., 207. 68 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 69 i< . festivals, the old customs of the, crown, were in his eyes con- ditions, rights, almost duties of ro'yaTty; sometimes 'he' Was Ignorant of the abuses put in practice to provide for these, and when he did know, he had not the courage to reform them. Thus, though relieved by peace from all extraordinary expen- diture, he found himself unable to meet the wants of his go- vernment. Englishcommerce was prospering ; the_mercan- tile marine, daiTjTgrowing more numerous ancTmbre active, solicited the protection of the royal navy. Charts confi- dently promised it, and even made, from time to time, serious efforts to keep his word ;* but, as a general rule,TEemeTCtiant fleets were without convoy, for the king's vessels wantedrig- ging, and the sailors were unpaid. The pirates of Barbary came to the British channel, to the very straits of Dover ; they infested the shores of Great Britain, landed, pillaged the vil- lacres, and carried off thousands of captives (1637). Captain Rainsborough, who was at length sent to the coast of Morocco to destroy one of their haunts, found there three hundred and seventy slaves, English and Irish ; and such was the weakness or the improvidence of the administration, that Strafford was obliged to arm a ship at his own expense to preserve the very port of Dublin from the ravages of these pirates.f So much incapacity, and its inevitable perils, did not escape the observation of experienced men. The foreign ministers who resided in London wrote word of it to their masters ] and soon, notwithstanding the known prosperity of England, it became a common topic on the continent that the government oFChartes was feeble, imprudent, insecure. At Pans, at Madrid, at the Hague, his ambassadors were more than once treated slightingly— nay, with contempt.:): Strafford, Laud, • Warwick's Memoirs ; Rushworth,i., 2, 257, &c. ,,-onN t Strafford's Letters, i., 68; ii., 86, &c. ; Waller's Poems (1730), 271 t The writings of the time, among others the letters collected by Howell, present a thousand examples of this : I shall only cite one. When Sir Thomas Edmonds went to France, in 1629, to conclude the treaty of peace, the gentleman sent to meet him to St. Denis and pre- side at his entrance, said to him, with a sneer, - Your Excellency will not be astonished I have so few gentlemen with me, to pay you honor and accompany you to court ; there were so many killed in the isle ot R6;» a bitter allusion to the terrible defeat of the English at that island, under the orders of the Duke of Buckingham.— Howell s Let- ters (1705), 210. and some others of the council, were not ignorant of the evil, and sought some remedy for it. Strafford, especially, the boldest as well as the most ablej struggled passionately against all obstacles ; he became anxious for the future, and would have had the king, governing his affairs with diligence and foresight, assure to himself a fixed revenue, well-stored arse- nals, fortified places, and an army.* He, for his own part, had not hesitated to assemble the Irish parliament (1634), and, eittTelTlIirough the fear he inspired, or the services he had f^ncfere(3rtKe. country, he had made it the most docile as well as the most useful instrument of his power. But Charles for- bad h««-4»"GalL it again ;f the queen and heUreaded the very name of parliament, and the fears of his master did not per- mit Strafford to give to tyranny the forms and support of the law. He urged the point for a time, but without success, and at last submitted. Energetic himself, he underwent the yoke of weakness ; and his foresight was of no avail, for he spoke to the blind. Some of the council, who thought as he did, but were more selfish, or better aware of the futility of any efforts, withdrew, when, to support his views, a struggle was needed, leaving him alone with Laud, exposed to the intrigues and hatred of the court. Tyranny, thus frivolous and unskilful, daily needs some new tyranny to carry it on. That of Charles was, if not the most cruel, at least the most unjust, the most chargeable with abuse that England had ever endured. Without being ablel to allege in excuse any public necessity, without dazzling men's minds by any great result, to satisfy obscure wants, tc gratify fantastic and unmeaning whims, he set aside and out raged ancient rights equally with the new-born wishes of thd people, making no account either of the laws and opinions oii the country, or of his own promises, essaying altogether hapi hazard, according to circumstances, every species of oppresi sion ; adopting, in short, the most rash resolutions, the mosf illegal measures, not to secure the triumph of a consistent an4 formidable system, but to maintain by daily expedients a power! ever in embarrassment. Subtle_Jawyeis^ setta work Xiim-yl maging among old records to discover a precedent for some fbrgpjULejj^iniguit^jJab^ brought to light the^buses^ of Y • Strafford's Letters, ii., 61, 62, 66. t Ibid., i., 365. 70 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 71 r )f- Hi past-times, and erected them into righU of the throne. There- fiSnTcTther agents; not so learned, but more actively darmg, converted theie pretended rights into real and new vexations; and if any appeal was made, servile judges were ready to declare that, in point of fact, the crown had of old possessed suchTrerog'ative'^ Was the acquiescence of the judges at all matter of doubt-was it thought necessary not to pu their influence too strongly to the test, the irregular tribunals the star chamber, the l.uncil of the northr^nd a number of other iurisdictions, independent of the common law, were charged ti "k Thet; placl and the aid of illegal magistrates was called in when the severity of legal magistrates did not suf- fice for "he purposes of tyranny. Thus were re-established impels loni faUen into desuetude, and others invented till hT unknown; thus re-appeared those innumerable monopo- Ues "ntroduced and abandoned by Elizabeth recalled and abandoned by James I., constantly disallowed by parliament, and at one time abolished by Charles himself, and which, giving to contractors or to privileged courtiers the exclusive sale of almost all commodities, inflicted suffering upon the people ^d kritated them still more by the unjust and most irregular ^bd vision of their profits-t The extension of. the royal fo- rests t^at abuse which had often driv«rthe T,arons of old in Sand to arms, became so great, that the forest of Rocking- ham alone was increased from six to sixty miles in circuit, 20 000/ • lord Westmoreland, 19,000/. , sir ^"^^^"i;"„ . <5^^. IS. \ lord Newport, 3000/^ ; sir Lewis Watson, 4000/., &c. , Straf ford's Letiers, ii., 117 ; Pari. Hist., n., 642. subject. Commissioners went about the country questioning here the rights of the possessors of former domains of the crown, there the rate of emoluments attached to certain offices, elsewhere the right of citizens to build new houses, or that of agriculturists to change their arable land into pasture, and they proceeded, whenever they could make out a case at all, not to reform abuses, but to sell their continuation at a high price.* Privileges, irregularities of all kinds, were, between the king aild'th?5se who made a business of them, a compact subject of disgraceful bargains. They even turned into a commodity the severity of the judges ; under the least pre- text, unheard-of fines were imposed, which, striking terror into those who apprehended a similar visitation, determined them to secure themselves beforehand by a handsome bribe. It really seemed as though the tribunals had no other business than to provide for the wants of the king, or to ruin the ad- versaries of his power.f If discontent in any particular county appeared too general for such proceedings to be easily practicable, the provincial militia was disarmed, and royal troops were sent there, whom the inhabitants were bound, not only to board and lodge, but moreover to equip. For not paying that which they did not owe, men were put in prison ; they were released on paying a portion of the amount, more or less, according to their fortune, credit, or management. Imposts, imprisonments, judgments, rigors, or favors, every- thing was matter of arbitrary rule ; and arbitrary rule ex- tended itself daily more and more over the rich, because there was money to be got from them, over the poor, because they were not to be feared. At last, when complaints grew so loud that the court took alarm, the magistrates who had given cause for them purchased impunity in their turn. In an excess of insane despotism, for speaking a few inconsiderate words, Strafford had caused lord Mountnorris to be condemned to death ; and, though the sentence had not been carried into effect, the mere statement of the prosecution had raised against the deputy in Ireland, in England, even in the king's council, loud reprobation. To appease it, Strafford sent to London six * May, i., 17 ; Rushworth, ii., 2, 915. t The sum total of the fines imposed during this epoch for the king's profit, amounted to more than six millions of money. See Ap- pendix IV. 72 HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH KEVOLITTION. 73 thousand pounds, to be distributed among the pnncipal coun- ciUors. ^l fell upon the right way " answered lord Cotting- ton an old and crafty courtier, to whom he had entrusted the affair " which was to give the money to him that really could dfth; busfness, which^as the king himself;; and Strafford obtained at this price, not only exemption from all conse- quences, but the permission to distribute, at his own pleasure amoncT his favorites, the spoils of the man whom, at his own pleasure, he had caused to be condemned. ^ Such was the effect of Charles's necessities : his fears car- ried him even much further than his necessities Notwith- standin