MASTER NEGA TIVE NO. 91-80425 MICROFILMED 1991 COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES/NEW YORK a as part of the Foundations of Western Civilization Preservation Project" Funded by the NATIONAL ENDOWMENT FOR THE HUMANITIES Reproductions may not be made without permission from Columbia University Library COPYRIGHT STATEMENT The copyright law of the United States - Title 17, United States Code - concerns the making of photocopies or other reproductions of copyrighted material.,. Columbia University Library reserves the right to refuse to accept a copy order if, in its judgement, fulfillment of the order would involve violation of the copyright law. A UTHOR : SCHOMBERG, J. D. (JOH DUFF) TITLE: THE THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF. PLACE: LONDON DA TE : 1842 COLUMBIA UNIVEFISITY LIBRARIES PRESERVATION DEPARTMENT Master Negative # BIBLIOGRAPHIC MICROFORM TARCIFT Original Material as Filmed - Existing Bibliographic Record ^w 942 iSch6 Restrictions on Use: wmm Schomberg, John Duff. The theocratic philosophy of English history; being an attempt to nnpress upon history its true genius and real character; and to present it, not as a disjointed series of facts, l)ut as one grand wliole: ])y the Kev. J. D. Schom- berg ... London, AVhittaker .and co.; (etc., etc.] 1842. 2 V. ll'"^. CoNTKNTs— V. 1. From the invasion of Julius Caesar to the death of guccn Elizabeth.— V. 2. From the accession of the house of Stuart to our own tmics jI820j 1. Gt. Brit.— Hist. i. Title. Lil)rary of Ci)ngrcss C DA30.S369 (a22cii 2—6737 i5~M FILM SIZE: IMAGE PLACEMENT: lA DATE FILMED: HLMEDBY: RESEARCH PUBLIC '& TECHNICAL MICROFORM DATA REDUCTION RATIO: /// IB IIB/ L/Jj/fl INITIALS.ilQ :ATI0NS. 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Reside the main topic this book also treats oj Subject No. On page Subject No. On page h . >»-i I I i- THE THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY; f' BEING AN ATTEMrT TO IMPRESS UPON HISTORY ITS TRUE GENIUS AND REAL CHARACTER; AND TO PRESENT IT, NOT AS A DISJOINTED SERIES OF FACTS, BUT u K ' ) M AS ONE GRAND WHOLE: ■ A- THE REV. J. D.^CHOMBERG, 'B. A., OF CORPUS CHRIST! COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. Late Master of Stoke Grammar School, Leicestershire, and Yicar of Polesworth, "Warwickshire; Author of the Elements of the British Constitution; ChviTch of England its own Witness, Sec. VOL I. y LONDON : WHITTAKER AND CO. R GROOMBRIDGE. LEICESTER: J. G. AND T. C. BROWN, BIBLE AND CROWN, AND ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS. MDCCCXLII. 15 ^■«) c > " -- J CONTENTS. VOL. I. 0)^ -? ^>^ ^c-h ^ ij{ s i4^ o CO I Section I., p. 1, 138 — From the Invasion of Julius Caesar to the end of the reign of Richard II. Section II., p. 139. — From the Accession of the House of Lancaster to the death of Richard III. Section III., p. 289 — From the union of the Houses of York and Lancaster to the death of Queen Elizabeth. 73179 / PREFACE. THE design of the Author, in the following pages, is so fully opened to the Reader, iu the commencement of the work itself, that it would be a repitition to enlarge upon that subject in the Preface. The Author wdll therefore content him- self, with presenting to the Reader, a passage from Blackwood's Magazine^ a copy of which was sent to him by a friend, after the first part of the work was ready for the press ; and in which, the design of the Author will be found, clearly and remark- ably anticipated, " If the world shall ever become virtuous enough " to deserve a developement of the actual course " of Providence in the affairs of nations, a new '' light may be thrown on the whole aspect of his- *' tory. — Events, remote, trivial and obscure, may "' be found to have been the origin to the greatest ;«i W »» lW '^♦.' Chap. I. r 4 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION at this point of advance, conceive any thing to !• exist, save the wildest ignorance and the most ferocious barbarism. Even, the primeval lan- guage could no longer remain. Every new emigra- tion would impart a new dialect to the mother- tongue; till at length, degenerating with them- selves, it would lose its original character, and take a form, more in unison with their habits and manners. The knowledge, also, of the true God would long since have been effaced. Aware how little the minds of young persons are impressed with just ideas of God, however diligently inculcated, we shall not consider it matter of surprise, that the younger branches of uncultivated tribes, con- stantly emigrating to new settlements, should at length, become totally ignorant of the true character of the Supreme Being. Had Noah accompanied them to our shores, it might have been otherwise ; or, had an Elder Chief been sent out with each migratory clan, things might have been in a better state ; but there were, doubtless, many generations between Noah and the first adventurers, that reached our shores ; and these, let it be remembered, were generations of- the thoughtless, the irreligious, and the pro- fane. The only possible conclusion is, that the True God was utterly unknown. The settlers in Britain must have led, for a series of years, a savage and uncultivated life, till i^ OF ENGLISH HISTORY. Q new stragglers coming over from the Gallic con- SECTION tinent, the country became better peopled; and I- having no longer power to emigrate, the inhabi- ^"**'- '• tants would form themselves into petty govern- ments, which would continue to be better organ- ized as emergences arose. But whilst we are obliged to suppose a probability of improvement in their social state, arising from experience and necessity ; yet we can by no train of reasoning, discover a principle of regeneration for the mind. We find, therefore, on opening the page of His- tory, that the rudest and most degrading state of society existed ; and, that they were the prey of the deadliest superstition. It is not however my province to detail the facts connected with this assertion. These may be consulted in numerous works. I shall only briefly advert to the source of their religious errors. Ignorant and debased as we have seen, were the first settlers on the Coast of Britain; yet from the history of our species, it is ascertained that the idea of a superior Being or Beings, is uni- versal. Hence superstition is an easy engrafture on our constitution. The Britons therefore, were ready for any impression of this kind ; and it is not impossible that the Phoenicians conveyed to them the germ, if not more, of Druidism ; and that the Greeks also, who visited their shores, left behind them some notices of their Gods. It was easy enough, to add to what they had thus i^ l>'S^#f»aG]is,-5»S^aiSeS«^'#S»»*ii«- ■■ *■-■.- 11 II S THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION received ; and afterwards, to invent Gods of their !• ov\rn. It is related in some book of travels which ^"''^' ^' I have lately seen, that near the site of the ancient Tyrus, has been discovered a remain resembling Stonehenge ; and it would be more probable to suppose, that the rites of that superstition, tra- velled from thence, where there had been greater opportunities of corrupting religion, than that it should take its rise from Britain ; where, it is im- probable that there ever was any religion, till it was imported. What makes this still more pro- bable is, that Britain became the head quarters of Druidism, and gave its laws to Europe. — For had it travelled from the Continent, as it has been conjectured, in all probability, its chief seat would have continued there. But be this as it may, it does not in the slight- est degree affect the argument contained in the fol- lowing pages : I do not deny the interest of the enquiry, nor its importance — ^Init too long a digres- sion in pursuit of it, would divert me from my prin- cipal aim. It is but too obvious, that Druidism with all its inhuman appendages and sanguinary rites, held entire sway over the minds of our devo- ted ancestors, and rivetted fast upon them, the chains of the most degraded servitude.* From such a yoke, it was impossible for the unhappy Britons to rescue themselves. The ministers of this horrid system held unlimited rule: they * CsDS. Com. de bello Gall. I k i\ I. Chap. I. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. administered the rites of reUgion — they instructed SECTION the youth — they directed the affairs of the state — they enacted the laws and punished the offenders. To disclaim their authority was futile : to resist it was death : for they were not only armed with the fullest civil authority; but with the delegated power of the Gods. To be excluded from their sacrifices, was considered the heaviest misfortune : to be exposed to their curse, the deadliest punish- ment. Under this fatal bondage the Britons had no chance of making advances in civilization and knowledge. Their cruel oppressors designedly kept them in ignorance ; and the evil power glutted himself with human blood and rioted in their destruction. But happily for us their des- cendants, the day was approaching, when the divine benevolence was to interfere, and to rescue our forefathers from their unhappy thraldom. Two great events in the history of our Country, are now opening before us — the extirpation of the Druids, and the planting of Christianity — ^both of which bespeak a Di\^ne hand, and will serve to illustrate the course of his beneficent purposes. — These are the beacons which must now direct our course. Julius C.^^.sar, the first Roman that opened First invasion 1 T 1 J r • of Britain. a passage to our shores, and estabhshed a tootmg b. c. 55. on our " sea-girt isle, " about half a century before the Christian Era, had fallen a victim to the jea- lousy of his countrymen ; and Augustus was now ;: }\ 8 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. SECTION saluted Emperor of Rome. Not less magnificent I- in his projects than his uncle, he left Rome three several times, at the head of his army, with the design of invading Britain ; but was as often pre- vented from putting his design into execution. In our ardent desire for the improvement and happi- ness of the ancient Britons, we are almost ready to regret the failure of his intention ; especially when we call to mind the wisdom, courage and human- ity of that great leader. A contempary Poet thus alludes to the circumstance. Praesens divus habebitur Augustus, adjectis Britannis Imperio.* Hor. lib. Hi. od, 5. Notwithstanding, whether we can trace the causes of the divine interference or not, in the detention of Augustus ; yet the circumstance itself, seems strongly marked. Probably, the Divine scheme was not yet fully ripe. During the cen- tury which elapsed, from the invasion of Julius Ceesar to that of Claudius ; there was a constant communication kept up with Rome. The arts of civilization and the knowledge of the sciences, could not fail to reach our shores ; and during the latter part of that period, Christianity had become strong in the Roman Empire, and would neces- sarily, if not by direct mission, yet by varied * A present Divinity shall Augustus Be reckoned, the Britons being added To the Empire. I / [ I. Chap. I. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. intercourse, be imported, together with other SECTION improvements. The purposes of God often operate slowly, but always beneficially. By the means just alluded to, the fierceness of the British Character would be softened — their attachment to Druidism in some measure, weakened — and an opportunity afforded them of embracing the regenerating scheme of the Gospel. It is certain that Claudius found the affairs of Emperor ciau. Britain in a very different state from that, in which Britain, they were left by Csesar. The nation, for the time, a. d. 45. had made prodigious advances. They were not like the same people. The Druids, however, were in power, and still retained vast hold on the minds of their disciples. Every step was now tending to their overthrow. As long as their rites contin- ued in vigour, it was utterly impossible for the benign influence of Christianity to make its way. This holy religion, had, within a short period, spread itself over the Western Empire ; it had even found its way into the palace of the Caesars, and amongst the soldiers of the Legions ; and it was now destined to bless our distant isle ; whilst the great bulwark of Satanic influence, was to feel the power of the Roman sword. In the midst of sublunary changes and moral Suetonius is - , made Governor disorders, the Divine purposes securely advance ^^^ extermina- to their completion. Claudius is no more; and tes the Druids. A. D. 61. the Purple succeeds to the worst of men and ot B 10 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 11 ! ., SECTION princes : but happily, the Province of Britain falls !• to the lot of a prudent and energetic Governor ; Chap. I. -yvho, in Order more firmly to secure the Eoman Power, resolves upon the extermination of the Druids. He foresaw that, as long as these men maintained their power and influence, there never could be any dependence on the people, or secu- rity to the Roman Conquests. He therefore made considerable preparations, and determined on a decisive blow. He attacked the isle of Angesea, w^hich was their chief seat ; broke down and des- troyed their superstitions ; and, in short, utterly exterminated them. It was far from the thoughts of Suetonius, that in the execution of this work, he w^as rendering essential service to truth ; and laying the foun- dation for the future greatness of the British Em- pire. This was an act of policy in him, suited to the moment. It was intended to meet the present exigency ; and nothing could have been more wisely determined. But how fruitful was it in mighty events, of which he had no conception ! Christianity, the \ital spring of every real and substantial blessing, is to be planted upon the ruins which he occasioned. No doubt, Christi- anity, which is another name for Truth, would have made its way in opposition to the rites of Druidism, as it did to those of Paganism ; but, whoever considers the strong prejudices of the human mind, in support of long favored and reve- *: i i I Chap. I. renced institutions ; and how slowly these preju- SECTION dices are overcome, will perceive how much the '• course of Christianity would be accelerated by the sudden extinction of the ancient religion. We cannot, therefore, at this distance of time, con- template an event so fraught with blessings to thousands, without the liveliest feelings of grati- tude to the Supreme Ruler of events ; who, in compassion to the human race, blotted out at once so horrid and detestable a system. We are to remember, that whilst the Divine goodness is seen extending itself, in an undeviating line of beneficence; yet judgements are ever mingled with its advance. A wise law-giver duly appor- tions his rewards and punishments ; and after all the controversies of Theologians on Free ivilh and Necessity ; when w^e come to facts, w^e discover this to be the ruling principle, in the economy of the Divine government. With respect to the Druids, whilst their extirpation was desirable for the happiness of mankind, their atrocious deeds rendered them fit subjects of the divine Vengeance. We lament, indeed, the destruction of so many individuals ; but w^e must rejoice in the event, which freed the world from their Superstition; and ''justify" the divine conduct in their over- throw. It mmmt^iiim ill OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 39 splendid reigns of Athelstan and Edgar, a morbid SECTION disease was preying upon the vitals of the country, I- ^ •' ^ ^ , Chap. Hi. and hastening its dissolution, ^^x^v^x^ It is melancholy to consider, that its great fore- traces of '' . , decline. running cause, must again be shewn to rest with the Ecclesiastics. It might almost seem as if one laid the blame upon them, out of despite and ma- lice : but it is not so.— These things are their own showing ; for they were the Chroniclers of the time. They had long since recovered from the ra- vages of the Danes ; and risen to still greater heights of opulence and splendor. Their lust and pride, their arts and avarice devoured the good of the land ; and as we shall soon sec brought it again to desolation. It was in the reign of Edwy, Anno Domini 965, to which we must again revert, that a deed was wrought, which was made by the Moral Governor of the world, in a very striking manner, to work its own retribution. Whatever was the fault of the king in his attachment to Elgiva— there was no person in the kingdom, but Archbishop Dun- stan, who had the presumption and daring to enter into the king s chamber, and by the force of his single arm, sustained by the power of the Church's anathema, drag the King like a crimi- nal, into the festive hall. Such an act could only be excusable, on the ground of great christian faithfulness, and disinterested patriotism : but even this, could have justified nothing beyond honest II 40 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY H SECTION and humble admonitions on the part of the min- !• ister of peace. But it will be answered, that such a mildness of manner, was not to be expected in the temper of the times. Of that I am well aware. But why was it not *? The Christian principles of courteousness and humility, were the same at every period of its benign course ; and if these were not exercised, it only discovers that its true influence was unknown. But not to use harsh ex- pressions, or indulge in unnecessary vituperation, it is abundantly evident from this, in conjunction with his other acts, that Dunstan was unacquainted with the true spirit of that holy religion, — elated with pride and inveterately possessed with an over- weening idea of his prelatical dignity. This moral wrong committed by Dunstan, was followed, as is usually the case in human affairs, by another in the King. Instigated by a sense of his own wounded honour, and that of the other individuals whose privacy had been so openly vio- lated ; he conceived a rooted aversion to the whole family of the monks, of whom Saint Dunstan was chief ; and commenced a persecution against them, which ended in their expulsion from many of their establishments, into which the secular clergy were immediately introduced : altercations of the most violent nature between the two parties succeeded, in which Dunstan took a leading part in favour of his own order. He was banished ; but was recal- led in the succeediug reign, by Edgar ; whose OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 41 gorgeous reign was but the departing glory of the SECTION Saxons. From him the crown descended to less 1. nobler brows, and the sceptre to weaker hands. v^Jr^v^^^ I should not have mentioned these facts, but for the purpose of introducing another, upon which turns, in a great measure, the overthrow of that line of monarchy. On his return, Dunstan laboured for the eleva- tion of his order ; and, after many alleged miracles in his favour (amongst which was the voice from the Crucifix) in the reign of Edward the younger he gained his every wish, and the land was again prostrate at the feet of superstition : but a dread- ful tempest was gathering over the fated isle ; and the Almighty avenger again sent his scourge in the persons of the relentless Danes. Pusillanimity* had made its way to the throne successful l)y murder. Superstition held in chains, the un- invasion of th< Danes. derstanding and consciences of men. Pride and a. d. 979. avarice, usurped the place of humility and charity. Ignorance, and degradation, and cruelty, and murder, in hideous train, stalked through the land ; and the whole country sinking into a moral desolation, offered a fatal opportunity to the in- roads of their ancient oppressors. — They came: but the dwindled spirit of the age rose not to the occasion. The w^eapon they used w^as gold, and the Danes were bribed to retire. This cowardly * Etholrcd II. who succeeded to the throne on the murder of his half brother, Edward the younger. 1! ii 1 I 42 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION art was used, again and again, till it became inef- I- iicient ; and then, treachery tried her skill. — The result of her counsels was a GENERAL massacre OF THE INCORPORATED DANES.* AlaS ! what could such a degenerated nation expect ? From this time, the affairs of the nation were most dis- astrous. — Sweyn, king of Denmark, determined upon revenge, and a furious revenge he took. — Famine followed his track. Even the sea broke its boundaries and overwhelmed multitudes of the people, whose miseries every hour increased ; and the land was completely subjugated under the hand of Sweyn. On his death, an ineffectual strug- gle was made under Edmund, a brave and valiant Prince, for the recovery of their liberties ; the struggle was ineffectual because when every order of the state, was ready to meet the emergency, the overgrown and nourished Monastics refused their quota of assistance ; and such was the vast power and the w^ealth they had accumulated, that their refusal was a decisive blow. Their Country w^as lost. The sinews of resistance were unequal to the occasion, and after a brave and varied struggle, a foreign King, Canute the Son of Sweyn, was acknowledged by the fallen land. " Verily, there is a GOD that judgeth the earth." * Anno Domini, 1002. CHAPTER IV. SOVEREIGNTY OF THE DANES — RESTORATION OF THE SAXON LINE — THE NORMAN LINE IN WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR WILLIAM II. HENRY I. STEPHEN. The reign of Canute brings us to an epoch in SECTION English History : but this era of Danish superi- I. ority does not appear to be marked with any stri- ^^^^X^^^^^ king or important results. Canute, himself, was The Danish a man of splendid abilities ; and by the activity short duration. of his body and mind, gave a vast impulse to the a. d. ion. energies of the nation ; and gathered up the strength of the country, which had run to w^aste under the last of the Saxon kings. He repressed and coerced, in some measure, the looseness of the age ; and endeavoured, by every means in his power, to bring back a moral tone to the minds of his people. But notwithstanding all his efforts, bloodshed and rapine and immorality, still con- tinued to harrass the fainting land ; and under II « 44 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY I !| SECTION his two sons who succeeded him, things returned I- to their former course, and an entire dissoluteness Chap. IV. « -, j •! n ^^^-v^/-^^ 01 manners and government prevailed. On reviewing this period, w^e are somewhat strongly brought to the conclusion, that the con- test which had been carried on for two hundred years, between the Danes and the English ; and w^hich had been attended with so much misery and bloodshed, was intended by all-ruling heaven as a chastisement, on an immoral and licentious people. We find no striking or beneficial change, introduced by the Danes, which could have any influence on the future destinies of the nation : but we do perceive, that no sooner is the contest concluded and the contending parties united in one body, than the instruments are laid aside and their dominion broken. And further^ the Danes were more barbarous than the English ; and even more dissolute and licentious in their morals. — Their amalgamation therefore with the body of the people, if moral perfection be essential to the Divine character, and the measure of his acts, could only tend to increase the evil, for which they had been so long under the chastening rod of the Supreme Governor. The Danish reiern therefore, w^as short, and a Restoration ^ of the Saxon fsw ycars, uot morc than twenty-six, saw^ a rever- sion in favour of the ancient Saxon line, in the person of Edward* the Confessor. We shall find * Son of Ethelred the grandson of Edgar. line. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 45 this to be a remarkable event, in every respect. SECTION Edward was a prince of consummate ability ; and I- laid his plans with such prudence and wisdom, ^"*''' '^' that they gradually and silently worked the most salutary changes. His reign was a season of beneficial repose and internal organization, after the toils and disorders of centuries ; and was pre- paring material, on a grand scale, for future oper- ations. Edward was educated in that school,* from whence the English nation was afterward to be regenerated ; and every thing in his reign, tended to facilitate its advance. — He was the fore- runner of. that regeneration ; and every act he did, serves to point out his designation. He em- ployed himself, with unremitting diligence, in reviewing all the ancient institutions and laws ; and with indescribable patience, gave a form and character to all that was worth preserving from our Saxon forefathers. In him, as it were, their departed spirits were embodied, and himself the last of their race, he prepared with all solemnity, to collect and hand down to posterity, the memo- rial of their departed greatness. His position at this time, was truly singular ; and he cannot but be considered as specially raised up, to be the connecting link between the periods of our ancient and modern history. He stands prominently for- ward as a commanding figure in the interval ; and as the solemn apotheosis of his Saxon ancestry. * In the Court of Normandy. queror. I il Ml 46 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION During this precursory interval, the Author of I* Society, was, by a long train of circumstances, 0* HAT* 1 V ^^^-^-^ laying the foundation of a change of system, which was to give a lasting stamp to the character of the English Nation, and an impulse, which should raise it to an EXEMPLAR STATE amongst the nations of the world. Rise and cha- The instrument that was destined to conduct racter of Wil- , . . , . liara the con- ^^^^ revolutiOH, was rccciving his preparation amongst a people, and amidst scenes wonder- fully calculated to promote his fitness for the task. This individual was no other than William, Duke of Normandy ; left an orphan at the early age of nine years ; and in the government of a people, the most brave and best instituted, but from par- ticular circumstances, ever living amidst storms and contentions. For thirty-four years he held the reins of government in his own patrimony, with a firm hand ; and supported his authority in the most successful manner, against the encroach- ments of his haughty nobles, on the one side, and the unceasing efforts of neighbouring states, on the other. He was of a high and elevated understanding, with a mind well formed and passions well regu- lated. — He was patient of toil and fatigue. — Pru- dent in council. — Brave in the field. — Generous, persevering, and unbending. Whilst he pursued his enemies with the most unrelenting vigour, he never turned a deaf ear to the supplications of an OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 47 t i adversary. He collected in himself all the mighty SECTION passions of man, I mean those which are most I. nearly allied to his spiritual part — pride, ambi- ^"*^* ^^" tion, daring, and revenge. In the pursuit of these his mind was entirely absorbed, and he was in a great measure a stranger to the more brutish appetites. With these passions, in a singular man- ner he united the humane virtues of prudence, generosity, and forgiveness of injuries ; and all were further chastised, by a strict attention to the duties of religion, and apparently, with a high regard for the dictates of the Supreme being. This was the man destined in Providence to hold the English sceptre ; and to lay the foundation of its greatness. His accession to this eminence of power, is one of those striking events in the history of things which carries its own testimony along with it. Who, at the accession of Canute, to whom there were three Sons, could have pre- sumed upon the probability of such an event ^ Who, at the accession even of Edward, when the duke of Normandy was only a few years old, could have suggested the thought '^ It is true that, Edward favoured Norman customs and institu- tions ; but why, should he therefore favor, and be the means eventually of placing the crown on the head of William duke of Normandy '^ In fact he did not contemplate it. It did not enter into his serious thoughts, till the death of Edward, 1 48 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION the son of Edmund Ironside,* upon whom it was 1- his intention to devolve the Crown. And, when this person died there was his son, Edgar Athe- ling remaining : and why was he not chosen ^ — He was of the ancient line ; and the legal heir to the throne : and rule by inheritance was the great law of the succession. It is alleged by historians that he w^as considered by Edward, incapable of conducting the great affairs of government. He was therefore rejected. — And there is every rea- son, from the well known character of Edward, to believe that this decision was arrived at, in strict accordance with the wisest dictates of reason, and from an inflexible regard to justice in the dis- posal of the Crown.-|- But there was still another person of English extraction, of vast influence and of great qualities both of body and mind. — This was Harold, son of the once all-powerful Godwin, and, what might have turned the bal- ance in his favour, he was in the highest favour with the whole nation ; and with the consent of that nation he aspired to the throne. — And why was he rejected ? If in the former instance, we * Third son of Ethelred. f Edward was living in Hungary at the accession of Edward the Confessor and was recalled by him, but died soon after his return to England. The necessity of the times jus- tified the King and the nation in afterwards rejecting his Son Edgar Atheling. This is only an instance of the power which has always been vested in the King and Parliament, on justi- fiable grounds, to alter the descent of the crown. \ I OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 49 Chap IV. give Edward credit for sincerity, we must on this SECTION occasion, blame him for giving way to a retail- I. ating spirit. Edward could not deny the fitness of Harold, but he entertained an unconquerable dislike to the son, from the memory of his father's ambitious acts. This was the sole turning point in Harold's rejection ; and thus we see, that against every appearance of propriety, the Duke of Normandy was preferred. But it was a happy decision for England. Harold was not the proper man. — He would have been too much to the mind of the English — too much of their own stamp. — He would have indulged and flattered the pre- vailing vices of the times. He would have gone with the stream ; and infused no moral vigour into the system. The church unchecked, would have continued to pursue its arbitrary and licen- tious course — the nobles flattered, would have indulged their rapacity and cruelty ; and the com-, mon people unrestrained, would have retained their ignorance and licentiousness. — So that as far as we can perceive, things would have proceeded in the same loose and unsatisfactory manner, which they had done, gradually verging to an entire de- cay. But it seemed good to the All-beneficent disposer of human events, to overrule every obs- tacle ; and through his instrument William of Normandy, to expurgate the evils of the land ; and to resuscitate its dying powers. — Not only did Ed- ward decide in favour of William ; but singularly E 50 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY d SECTION enough, Harold himself, on a voyage to the 1. Continent, was driven, devious of his intended Chap. IV. ^^^^g^^ ^ud became an inmate, very much against his will, of the court of William. William ac- quainted him with the will of Edward in his favor ; and obliged Harold solemnly to swear, that he would ])y every means in his power, expedite his accession to the English throne. His oath, however, as we know, was after- wards disregarded ; and he made every prepara- tion for securing that throne to himself. And on the death of Edward he succeeded to it with the concurrence of the people.— But the breast of William was undaunted. The way to the throne had been opened to him ; and although another occui)ied it, he considered it his right, and deter- mined to claim it. All the vigour of his soul was put into the execution of his design ; and he set out from Normandy, filled with the enthusiasm of his object, and with the fullest reliance, as he avowed, on the DIVINE ASSISTANCE. He viewed himself under the immediate protection of Heaven. -Yet it was no fanatic enthusiasm. — It was what all great souls under similar circum- stances had experienced. There was no rashness connected with this impression— His preparations were on the most extensive scale ; and nothing was wanting that wisdom and prudence could suggest to secure success. Harold his competitor was equally brave, and greatly superior in num- it t OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 51 i ■ I ii I ■V III bers ; but his men were more careless and undis- SECTION ciplined ; they had moreover been thrown off I. their guard, by a recent victory which they had v^^l^^)^-!^ obtained over the Swedes under Sweyn, who had made a diversion in favour of William on the Eastern Coast. Never was an earthly crown more bravely con- tested. From sun-rise to sun-set, everything that valour and conduct could do, Harold accomplished. More than once, the scales of victory seemed to declare for him, but were as often turned ; till, at length, while he was bravely leading on his men, an arrow penetrated his brain ; and life and hope expired together. One is apt to regret that an Englishman so brave, endued with so many virtues, and so beloved by his subjects, should be overthrown by a foreign hand, and his country once more subjugated to a foreign sway. — But the true love of one's country, and the manifest inter- position of the ever watchful and benevolent power of Heaven still every murmur, overcome every regret, and lead us to rejoice in the happy ac- complishment of those benign purposes, which against a nation's will, were pregnant with blessings. Never did a loftier mind enter on a more diffi- wiiiiam the cult task than William I. in attempting the re- Conqueror re- formation of England. The laws were prostrate a. d. io66. under the feet of crime. Religion was defaced by the pride, and rapacity, and flagitiousness of its 'I I 52 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION professors. Learning expired amidst the feuds !• and contentions of the powerful, and the vassalage Chap. IV. ^^ ^j^^ ^Qov. Vico triumphed, and virtue lan- guished. Under such appalling circumstances, who would not have hesitated to enter upon the work of reformation '? Most men would have thought it a hazardous, if not an impossible task. But William undertook it as a matter of duty, as the very cause for which he had been sent ; and every thing soon began to feel the power with which his arm was nerved. — All ranks in the state felt its restraining influence. Himself a man of moral habits, he was enabled, without hypocrisy, to admonish the mightiest ; and by strict and unrelenting vigour in the execution of the laws, he punished and restrained the corrupted body of the people. He was eminently the min- ister OF GOD, executing vengeance on the law- less and disobedient. — But long accustomed to rebel, it was not probable, that they would quietly submit to such rigorous measures as this great moral reformer thought necessary to impose. — The nobles conspired, and were subdued and par- doned, again and again. Ever blind to their true interest ; and preferring a lawless independence to the good and prosperity of their country, they broke down every restraint of oath and allegiance, and infatuated to their ruin, endeavoured to rid themselves of one, whom they regarded as a ty- rannical MASTER. — But in vain. — In spite of the I II OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 53 greatest moderation on the part of the conqueror, SECTION in spite of the greatest readiness on his side to I. conciliate and serve them ; by their continued ^"^^' ^^' folly and perverseness, they brought on them- selves " swift destruction. " After many ineffec- tual struggles, the ranks of the English nobles were so thinned, that scarcely a distinguished family of the ancient order remained. One can- not but lament such an effusion of human blood ; but when we recollect that they were their own destroyers — ^proud, turbulent, vicious, and too stubborn to be reformed, we cannot but perceive that their destruction was ultimately for the bene- fit of their country. The celebrated curfew bell, which has been stigmatized by some writers, as the record of our servitude, is, in truth, the memorial of our res- toration. The necessity for such a measure must convey to the mind that allows itself to think, the fact of a nation on the brink of a moral dissolution. What a disorderly, turbulent and vexatious population must that have been, which could not be trusted out of their houses, after that early hour, nor even in their houses, with light sufficient to do mischief! Indeed the historic page confirms it.— But to be brief .-—William con- quered every obstacle. His persevering and un- deviating policy triumphed. — For whilst at the beginning of his reign, dishonesty and fraud ; rapine and murder ; rapes and adulteries were so Hi If ^ % H 54 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY I \ SECTION common, as to have become the almost necessary I. cementives of the social existence — in a few years ^'"^''- ^^'* , such a change was effected, that it is said by a writer of that day, that a virgin, with a purse of gold, might have travelled from one end of the land to the other without danger to her purse or her person.* The writers who have viewed William the Con- queror as a tyrant, have certainly mistaken his character. His achievements were not like the acts of a tyrant. He considered England as his own ; and would have nourished it like a father, had the refractory children allowed him. After all, he was the greatest benefactor Eng- land EVER HAD ; and was signally advanced to his high station to he the founder of its glories.— Every part of the state gained his attention. The church, which was as corrupt as the nobility, did not escape his severest censures and punish- ment. The ecclesiastics were ignorant, and vicious, and presumptuous, and rapacious. A general synod in which he openly complained of their enormities, was followed, under its autho- rity, by the ejection of many of the bishops ; a course which he pursued till he had sufficiently purified that order. It has been alleged, that he acted in this manner from rapacious motives ; — for the purpose of rewarding his friends with the va- cant bishoprics. This never could have been his * Ech. Hist. p. 63. . OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 55 Chap. IV. motive ; it would have been inconsistent with the SECTION whole train of his conduct and policy : but how- ^• ever this may be, we may be thankful he did so. His Norman friends were better men. They were men of superior morals, and learning, and piety ; they adorned their high station and impro- ved the state. The higher orders both in church and state, were almost entirely renewed. The old material was unfit to build up an EXEMPLAR STATE ; and was therefore rejected by the great Architect of Society. These were prodigious ef- forts, and productive of incalculable benefit to the rising State. But the unwearied mind of William, rested not Reformation in what he had already accomplished ; but aimed at arranging and perfecting every institution neces- sary for the well-being of the body politic. The laws of the Saxons which had^been compiled by Alfred, and translated by Edward into Latin, he published in the Norman tongue. He greatly improved, and in some measure new-modelled the courts of law ; and introduced the Norman method * of process and pleading. He established the great courts at Westminster ; and armed them with ir- resistible authority. He introduced the courts of Equity, as the seats of experimental Judicature^ and enacted laws for the regulation of agreements and writings. In short, he gave to this Country the most solid and splendid form of Judicature in the world. It has out-lived every change of It : 56 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY I i II I i Ml SECTION the nation ; and at this day, secures to us our !• personal liberty, the fruits of our industry, and the fullest enjoyment of our social rights. This period has been called the conquest ; but with much greater propriety it might be called the RENOVATION of England. When I began to read our history more extensively, with a view to the present work, I was surprised to find the com- mon error under which I had been labouring, with respect to the character of William and the acts of his Government. He certainly seemed to think of nothing, but the improvement of the Country he was called to govern. This was his earnest aim, from the very first moment in which he landed on its shores. It was then, that he com- manded his soldiers to spare their own ; and what- ever power and influence he derived from his ac- cession to the throne, he used for the advantage of the people. His native patrimony was forgotten amidst his desires for the welfare of his adopted country. — And though the English exclaimed against his partiality for the Normans, in dispo- sing of places of trust — yet it is evident that such favours, were morally just and necessary, for the great purpose of ameliorating the condition of the country. With what indefatigable exertion he pursued this end ! He did not seek his own ease or personal gratification. His very magnificence was to do honor to the land he loved. 1 I \ I t of ENGLISH HISTORY. 57 When we consider the difficulties and almost SECTION impossibilities, which seemed to oppose his ad- I- vancement to the supreme authority of England — when we contemplate the disposition with which he entered upon that government — when we re- flect upon the extraordinary and lasting re- formations which he introduced ; and withal, the striking manner in which every difficulty was re- moved, and his triumphant progress to the com- pletion of his labours, secured ; we are compelled to acknowledge the hand of the Most High, who ruleth in the aff'airs of men. Every thing in this mighty Revolution, was conducted against the will of the nation. The means of the Duke of Normandy were limitted, and in no measure equal in themselves, to resist its united will. The Power of EVIL would not effect it, for every change was for a beneficent end. It was the work of God, and is " marvellous in our eyes. " William, no doubt, was inspired with ambition and the love of martial glory ; and in all he did, he indulged his predominant passion. — But amidst all this, we see a power pervading and controlling this natural bias, and conducting it to beneficent results, fraught with momentous consequences to the hu- man race. We need not dwell long, on the reigns of his two sons. They were links in the same chain. — William who succeeded him, inherited the un- daunted courage of his father ; but was destitute Successors of William. 58 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY I illl nil it Hi SECTION of his virtues : and whilst he held the reins of !• government and of the laws, with a firm hand, his destitution of moral character, gave an unfor- tunate impulse to the immorality of the people. — So inevitably is the conduct of princes followed by their subjects ; and so easily are the worst pas- sions of our nature encouraged by the fostering influence of bad example. But William lived not to do much mischief. His younger brother Henry, who succeeded him. inherited all his father ; and in the manifestation of the most splendid abilities, carried on the state in the line marked out by his great progenitor. — He held the sceptre with a vigorous hand, and with wisdom and prudence, administered the laws, restrained the pride of the barons, and kept in check, the usurpations of the church. — We cannot help observing, during this splendid period of our monarchy, the events which led to the exclusion of Robert, the eldest son of the Conqueror, from the throne. His title was without dispute — ^his ambition of a crown, quite as strong as either of his brothers : and what is more, he had the ad- vantage of popular favor on his side. But every thing was overruled, beyond precedent, to exclude him from the seat of authority : and with the history of the times before us, there is no difficulty in unravelling the cause or the Author. Robert's bad management of his own patrimony — ^his ro- mantic valour — ^his profuse habits, and his excessive OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 59 indolence in the affairs of Government, all testify SECTION what a disastrous thing it would have been for I- Chap IV England, had he succeeded to the sovereign power. v^^^-v^O Without attributing to the Conqueror the gifts of prophecy ; when on his dying bed he declared that the youngest son, w^ould far exceed his bre- thren in power and dignity ; his penetrating mind no doubt, perceived the pre-eminent genius, that animated the bosom of Henry. Every thing point- ed him out as the future King. There was in him a peculiar adaptation of mind to the office ; and his elevation to the dignity was facilitated by means, throughout, that marked the will of Hea- ven. Robert was laid aside as a " despised broken vessel, " and Henry was raised up as the honored instrument, in carrying on the designs of God, with respect to the empire of Britain. The next, is a calamitous page in our history, signal pun- brought on by the perjuries and inordinate selfish- '^''^2' '^ '*'' ness of the people. Stephen who now appears upon the stage, was not much more of a usurper, than the demised Henry. He was a younger branch of the family. But Henry foreseeing the evils of a contested succession; had during his life, taken precautions for securing the peace of the realm by demanding and obtaining from his subjects the oaths of fealty in favour of his daugh- ter Matilda. Let it also be remembered that she was the heiress to his throne ; and as such, was solemnly recognized by all the leading men, in It 4 60 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION church and state. The course of duty therefore !• was clear. But she was a woman; and the proud spirit of the Norman barons, pretended that they could not submit to a woman's rule. But they had other motives. The nobles and clergy hoped to obtain from a prince, whose title was not clear, some indulgence from the rigorous restraints of his predecessors. Indeed they knew they might stipulate for what they pleased, inas- much as without them, Stephen stood no chance of securing his claim. They were not modest ; and Stephen was compliant ; and the innumerable evils, which during a short period, this selfish, and perjured, and vaccillating conduct brought upon the nation, were unprecedented. The church and nobility assumed an entire independence ; — in consequence, a thousand petty kings started up in Britain and turned their power against their compliant Sovereign. The King of Scotland was in arms in order to oppose his claim. The Welsh were inflamed against him. Normandy refused submission. Matilda preferred her claim. Stephen who in- herited all the vigour and valour of the family, was resolute. He was like a wild boar sur- rounded by the multitude of the hunters. Assail- ed from all sides, he neither feared, nor gave up the contest ; and after a variety of reverses and successes in which a profusion of blood was spilt, he held the crown to the last, and would fain OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 61 -^ f I have secured it to his son. But his hopes were SECTION vain ; the son of Matilda was at hand, with all *• the impetuosity of his grandfather, determined to "^^' ' assert his claim ; and, happily, as far as we can discover, Eustace the son of Stephen is excluded. Stephen himself appears to have inherited almost every princely virtue; and might have made England happy. But the just Ruler of affairs, would not suffer the proud and selfish conduct of the nation, to pass unchastised ; and they were severely punished in the civil dissensions and bloodshed of the reign. It was evident that the contest was neither for the glory of Matilda, nor Stephen. Matilda was unfit to govern, and Ste- phen was only reserving the throne for the Son of his rival ; and to which, an unseen hand was steadily conducting him, amidst the just punish- ments of the nation. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 63 CHAPTER V. I UNION OF THE SAXON AND NORMAN LINE IN HENRY II. THE FIRST OF THE PLANTAGENETS — RICHARD I. JOHN AND HENRY III. SECTION 0^ opening the history of this reign, we are not I. disappointed in the expectations which had been Chap. V. Henry II. A. D. 1155. formed respecting the character and abilities of the great Prince who succeeded to the throne. Some of our historians have observed, that the English people had been so dispirited and broken down, by their intestine troubles during the pre- ceding reign, that they had neither power nor courage to resist the pretensions of Henry. But this was far from being the case. There was no disposition to resist. He was expected and hailed by the people as their future Sovereign ; and it must not be overlooked, that he united in himself. the Saxon and Norman lines of our regal ancestry.* SECTION The country felt that he was their destined king, _ ^' and as soon as he planted his foot on the English ^.x^v^x^ shore, as if by magic, all its discordant elements were hushed ; and order and justice resumed their legitimate functions in the state. Such, indeed was the effect, that many of the unquiet and vici- ous amongst the citizens, when they found they could no longer work their evil deeds with im- punity, retired from the country, and sought a more congenial clime. But notwithstanding the transcendent abilities Henry impe- _ TT • . flit • T*r»T ded in his mea- of Henry one is not a little surprised, in tindmg so ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ little accomplished by him in furthering the ad- ciiurch. vance of England, in her great career. We shall probably meet with the cause ; and I wish it were any other than that, to which we have so often before called the reader's attention. It is mani- fest, that no prince ever set out with better inten- tions, or more vigorous acts ; and it is reasonable to suppose, that had he met with no check, he would have conferred signal benefits on his country. But unfortunately, he was grievously discouraged * He was lineally descended from Edmund Ironside ; whose son Edward, was in Hungary on the accession of Edward the Confessor, and left beside Edgar Atheling, who died without issue, a daughter Margaret, who after- wards married Malcolm King of Scotland, by whom she had a daughter Maude, who became Queen of England by her mar- riage with Henry I. son of the Conqueror. Their daughter Matilda or Maude was married to the Emperor of Germany — Henry II. was their son. 64 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION in the very outset by a power which had been I- strengthening itself, during the confusion of the two preceding reigns, and had now increased its power to an enormous extent. One circumstance will tend to discover, by what rapid strides the Papal authority was at this period advancing to the height of its aggrandisement. Henry had taken up arms against Lewis king of France ; and they were on the point of engaging in a bloody contest ; when Pope Alexander offered himself as umpire in the dispute. The offer was accepted by the contending powers ; and on their reconci- liation, these two mighty Potentates conducted the mightier Pontiff to his abode ; walking on each side of his horse, and performing the office of yeomen of the stirrup. The gradual and formidable rise of the Pontifi- cal power, would be an interesting enquiry ; but it is not within our present purpose, further than as it affects the History of England. It was this power, stretching its mighty arms over the w^est- ern limits of Europe, that impeded the wishes, and frustrated the designs of Henry the second for the good of his Country. He strove like a wise Ruler to regulate the civil affairs of his kingdom, and above all things, to secure for all his subjects the impartial administration of Justice ; but in every attempt, he was opposed and baffled by this all-dominant power. It would lead me too far from my design, to enter into the detail of the t of ENGLISH HISTORY. 65 dispute between the King and the celebrated SECTION Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury. It must !• however be alluded to. — It is related that after the accession of Henry, and within a brief space of time, not fewer than one hundred murders had been committed by Ecclesiastics ; and when it is remembered, that the trial of such delin- quents and the award of their punishment, were entirely in the hands of their own order, it is rea- sonable to suppose that such crimes were perpe- trated with almost perfect impunity. — And so the fact was. The King, on the other hand, was determined that all crimes whatever whether com- mitted by Ecclesiastics or not, should be tried in his courts and take the due course of law. This was the subject in dispute. The church resisted any alteration of this nature as an encroach- ment on its rights. There were other articles, which the King insisted upon in the Constitutions of Clarendon,* all which were resisted by Becket, to the death. The circumstances of this long tragedy are well known. — It is with the result that we have to do. The struggle was intense with interest ; and in its issue momentous. It was a struggle on the part * The points in those ordinances were particularly these : 1. That none should appeal to the See of Rome, in any cause whatever, without the King's consent. 2. That it should not be lawful for any Archbishop or Bishop to attend the Pope on his Summons, without the King's licence. 3. That all criminal clerks, should be tried before secular Judges, &c. 66 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION of Henry for political liberty ; nay, for political I' existence. And we cannot but perceive^ when \^^-\}^^ such great matters were at stake, how immense that power must have been, against which one of the wisest and most valiant of Monarchs contended in vain — In vain : for, before the death of Bec- ket, the King was wearied out with the strength and pertinacity of the resistance ; and after his death, although he attained in some degree, the accomplishment of his wishes ; yet, in real autho- rity he gained nothing. The humiliations imposed upon him by the Pope, for being the cause of Eecket's death, were excessive ; and to the whole, Henry was obliged to submit. What can we then conclude respecting this affair, but that the King lost, and the church gained in power by the event '? When we see the Sovereign content to endure the most degrading penance — giving his back to the unsparing lashes of the Monks, and walking bare- foot to the consecrated tomb of Becket, what must be our judgement on the issue of the contest *? — The day was lost ; and under the mightiest Mon- arch, the Papal power laid the deep foundation of its despotism in our devoted country ; and which in a subsequent and not very distant reign, raised its mitred head, far above the fabric of the State ! But this was the hour of the Romish church. Civil Wars ; It will bc quitc unnecessary for me to dwell on their cause, the umiatural wars of this reign, excited by the OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 67 King's own family, especially as I can trace no SECTION great national events in connexion with them. — They appear to me to have been a personal chas- tisement on the monarch himself, for his conjugal infidelity and licentious amours. If the rigliteous Governor of the earth awards his punishments to offending nations, let it not be vainly imagined, that he overlooks the offences of individuals. If we search for them, we shall find the one as well as the other, pervading His universal Government. Such transactions however must have had a bane- ful influence on the nation ; and have been pro- ductive of much moral mischief to the community. Another thing which had a tendency to nourish the shimbering elements of moral evil, was the very frequent absence of the King from his domi- nions : a circumstance which rendered his reign short, though, nominally, long ; and prevented much that might have been done for the advance of the country. Yet we have to notice, that at the beginning of his reign, he instituted a council to assist in the affairs of government, in which also there was the distinction of a more private or Cabinet Council ; no doubt, the substratum of our present e^vecutive arrangement. A grand move- ment, when considered in all its bearings, on our Constitutional Polity/. He instituted also and appointed the circuits for the periodical administration of justice nearly as they now exist : and in his judicial proceedings, 68 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 69 SECTION brought into exercise the trial by Jury. But if it 1- should still excite surprise^ that the State of Eng- land made but slight advances, under such a mag- nificent leader ; let it be remembered, that we are now confining ourselves to a review of the history of England ; and that if we were to extend our remarks to other countries, we should doubtless find that Henry II. as he was raised up under particular circumstances, was destined to accom- plish peculiar ends. We shall add a few words to shew nearly the certainty of this fact. In the commencement of his reign he reduced Wales under his authority — cut down its woods — opened its hitherto impassable ways, and made it easily accessible from the western limit of England. This, no doubt, was the commencement of a new ERA for that Country. But he accomphshed a still greater work in the subjugation of Ireland. That Country was in a state somewhat resembling England at the worst period of the Saxon Heptar- chy. The Country was wild — the manners of the inhabitants barbarous — their Kings many, martial, and tyrannical. Henry subdued it — gave it a vigorous organization — placed the people under equal and impartial laws ; and made an opening for all the improvements in arts and learning which were known in England. In short he was the Agricola of Ireland, and their true Saint Patrick. In general he was a great man ; and a signal instrument in the hand of the Supreme Governor, If ^ ii f 1 Chap. V. for coercing and restraining the bad, and encour- SECTION aging the good. — But he was not a good man. — !• He curbed the licentiousness of others ; but he was licentious himself — he exercised a firm sway over his subjects — ^but he was not the master of his own passions. He was victorious over every thing but himself ; and this self-degradation, tar- nished all his glory. It is not our province to enter into the detail of his vices ; suffice it to say, that he was severely punished in the rebellion of his two children, and felt the chastening hand of the high and lofty One who had raised him up. In his old age the King was utterly rejected and cast off ; dying far from home under the most pain- ful circumstances of grief and vexation. How ap- posite is that declaration of Holy Writ — " Thus saith JEHOVAH : Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might: let not the rich man glory in his riches. But let him that glorieth, glory in this — that he under standeth and knoweth ME." The next period that opens is one of uncommon brilliancy ; and full of the most splendid scenery ; ^^^^^^^^ to the . . Throne. — a kmd oi mterlude m the great historical a. d. iioo. Drama. AVere we pursuing our enquiry into the moral character of the Crusades, we should no doubt find that Richard the Lion-hearted, who performed such prodigies of valour in Palestine, was eminently fitted for carrying into effect some of the designs of the Almighty in that part of the Richard I. 70 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION world. In this romantic enterprise the King was !• swallowed up. All his capacities of body and mind, were expended upon it, and for his own countiy he did nothing. So far from it, that his prodigal expenditure, his rigorous exactions, his unjust indulgences ; and his venal sales of office, laid the foundation for innumerable evils. By his long absence from home, and by placing the whole authority of Government in the hands of the dignified Clergy, he nourished and increased that power, which had been so strongly resisted by his father, to an intolerable extent : and by ex- cessive indulgence to the common people, he brought upon the nation, the most grievous trou- bles. All order was relaxed ; and whilst murders and robberies were of daily occurrence, London itself was the scene of unheard-of disorders. It was strangely overrun with banditti, v,ho robbed and murdered the passengers in open day ! I consider this one of the most disastrous reigns that England had ever yet seen. AVhatever effect the crusade accomplished elsewhere, its influence was most deleterious at home. We know not the worst of the state of things at that time, but it may justly be inferred from what we do know, that London must have been in a state of almost universal disorder and exposed to the most wanton pillage. What can we deduce otherwise from the fact, that when one of the ringleaders — a ruffian of most audacious character, was brought OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 71 ^. i the Jews. before the chief Justiciary of the Realm, on the SECTION most heinous charges — that public officer dared I- not to follow the course of the law against the ^^^^^v^^^ audacious offender because of the number and vio- lence of his attendants ? But do we not in this Massacre of behold a moral retribution on the inhabitants of the Metropolis, for the daring outrage they had committed in the beginning of this reign on the unoffending people of the Jews ^ In the most cruel and unrelenting manner, they began and carried on, an undistinguished massacre against that unhappy race ; and glutted themselves with blood and plunder. In this disgraceful act, they wilfully outraged and violated the voice of huma- nity and the law of God : and they were them- selves made to feel the direful effects of such unrighteous violations. I close this page of history and open another of vast import ; on the contents of which we have been in the habit, generally, of entertaining very prejudiced views. There is no book that has had a greater ascen- Kin >s John dancy in the work of education, than Goldsmith's succeeds his . brother. History of England. From that source, the wri- a. d. H9L ter of these pages drew his earliest knowledge of that subject — a knowledge, which he has since found to be as erroneous as defective. It is time that something equally brief, but more full and accurate, should be put into the hands of the rising generation. The record of John's reign contained in that book, is truly hideous, and pre- 72 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. SECTION sents us throughout, with the idea of a mean and I- pusillanimous being, reduced by his own weakness to the lowest grade of human kind. But nothing can be further from the truth. John was as high spirited, as brave, and as resolute, as the best of his family. Not that I am intending to be the panegyrist of King John. I have a nobler object in view — to trace the progress of the social system of England to its present state of eminence. — But in doing this, the King becomes necessarily, a very prominent personage ; and the instrument, one way or other, of giving an impulse to its des- tinies. We shall, therefore, endeavour to do him Justice ; and it is of consequence in setting out, to free our minds from prejudice ; and to consider him neither as a coward nor a fool. The doctrine of representation in regal inheri- tance, was not, at this time, so thoroughly under- stood as at present ; and was even less regarded in England, than on the Continent. Arthur duke ofBretagne, the Son of John's elder brother, was on this, which is the true constitutional principle, the true heir to the Crown ; and had he lived in this age, would undoubtedly have succeeded to it. But the people of England, at that day, seem never to have thought about him ; and John was always recognized as their future King.* How- * In the time of his Father Henry II. it was a point undetermined whether even in common inheritances the child of an elder brother should succeed to the land, in right of representation, or the younger surviving brothei- in right of proximity of blooa. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 73 ever the passing by of Arthur was a pretext for SECTION the ambitious Philip of France ; and enabled him 1- to distract the affairs of England by setting up the rival claim of Arthur. Not that he was sincere in attaching himself to the interest of Arthur : but was intending by a deep-laid scheme of policy, at the expense of both parties, to secure his own ag- grandisement. We must not however follow him. John, as was always the case when vigorously supported by his subjects, was superior in the contest ; and in the issue, Arthur was taken pris- oner. He might have been happy had he been less ambitious. His death soon followed upon his captivity ; and John has been accused of his mur- der. There is not sufficient moral rectitude mani- fest in the practical conduct of the King to warrant us in saying, that he could not commit such an action ; and the evidence is by far too vague and conflicting, to justify us in pronouncing him guilty of it. The tribunal of the Eternal will pronounce a just award. By the death of Arthur he was de- livered from a rival to his crown, but it still sat uneasy on his brow ; and he was made to suffer as the unnatural opposer of his father, and the un- grateful impugner of his brother the most bitter and cruel griefs. One circumstance which will tend to shew the temper of the times, with respect to the Church, deserves to be narrated and remembered, because great things are about to be transacted, which are i 74 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION laid to the charge of the King s pusillanimity ; I. whereas, in truth, they were the almost necessary .^^^^^^-^ consequences of the existing state of things. Power and In the midst of the splendid solemnities of a splendour of treaty of alliance, between John and the King of the Church. •' ^ Scotland, it is related, that the King in order to mingle religious things with temporal, resolved on making an offering on the altar of the Cathedral of Lincoln. From this he was dissuaded, on the ground of certain superstitious opinions. But the King disregarding these vain objections, undaunt- edly entered the Cathedral ; and presented a golden chalice on Saint John's altar : which thing we are told, no King before him dared to do. Whilst this was transacting, the arrival of the corpse of the Bishop of Lincoln at the gates of the City, was announced, and the regal train went forth to meet it ; and to shew their respect and humility, the two Kings and their allies, bore the coffin on their shoulders, and by them it was delivered to the great Peers, who conveyed it to the doors of the Cathe- dral. Little did John know the bitter cup which the head of that church was preparing for him ! It was on the occasion of filling up the vacancy occasioned by the death of this very prelate, that the Pope began his opposition to the King, and insisted on the exemption of the Church from regal authority. Nor was this an empty boast, as the King of England was soon to ex- perience f OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 70 The great object which is now before us, is the SECTION MAGNA CHARTA. I sec nothing in the second war !• with France, but a petty contention ; and can ^^'■\r\^ find no great political event connected wdth it : EstaWish- , 1 1 T "111 ment of Magna except it may be, that the discontent raised by the charta. necessary exactions for carrying it on, led in some measure, to the great event of the reign. Neither do I see much to hang upon the whole affair of John's quarrel with the Pope, except indeed the open and ostentatious display of that authority, which was already in itself pre-eminently domi- nant. The result discovered the presumption and insolence, the '' cunning craft " and pride of that poW'Cr — but did not discover the pusillanimity of John. He resisted, as we shall see, the aggres- sion as resolutely and forcibly as his father Henry had done, and appeared to possess even a more perseverwg moral courage : but he would have been more than mortal, had he continued longer to resist all the horrors of so long an interdict. — Let us briefly review the facts of the case. The Monks of Canterbury, without the King's consent, had chosen a vain and ignorant person as Arch- bishop, and sent him to Rome for consecration. They are afterwards prevailed upon by the King, to elect another, more to the royal mind. A con- tention now arises between the rival candidates ; and the matter is debated at great length, before the Pope. After a tedious negociation, the deci- sion of the Pope is to recognize neither ; and with- 76 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY f; SECTION out consulting the wishes of any party, he appoints 1. and consecrates one of his own Cardinals, and an Chap. V. Englishman. This was Stephen Langton. The appointment, though it came attended with the most flattering letters and valuable presents, was scornfully rejected by the King, as an in- fringement on his dearest rights. The King stormed and raged and expostulated, but in vain. The Lion w^as too deeply entangled in the toils of the Pontiff. His artful policy on this occasion, lays open the deep abysses of human duplicity. — But our object does not oblige us to follow them. Suffice it to say — the Plot increases — the kingdom is laid under an Interdict.* — The King is excom- municated. — His subjects are absolved from their allegiance. The King on the other hand, is equally resolute. He fines, he confiscates, he re- moves from under the protection of the Law — he banishes the adherents of the Pope. Years of complicated misery roll on ; and John is still re- fractory. The Pope is reduced to his last resort ; and calls upon Philip of France, with all his power, to reduce his " refractory child " to obedience. — All France and her allies are armed for the pur- * This interdict was issued on the 22nd day of March, 1208, upon which there was a cessation of all divine services, except confession, baptism of infants, and administration of the Eu- charist to dying persons ; so that the dead were carried out of the Cities and Towns and without ceremony, like beasts, thrown into pits or ditches. JEchard, Lib. II. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 77 il pose. John was still undaunted ; and determined SECTION to resist to the last, for the honor and interests of 1* his kingdom. \^x"v^^^ Whilst the two armies crow^ded the opposite Policy of the shores, intent upon the approaching contest, the Pope, weighing with the profoundest sagacity, the dubious nature of all such enterprises ; and know- ing, that the defeat of Philip would be fearfully injurious to the power of the Church, determines, if possible, to avoid the encounter ; and to bring John to submission without it. Shall I repeat his arts "? "^ Eloquar an sileam ? " John is reminded of the ''paternaV solicitude of the Pope, and of his own sacred dnty to the Church. He is directed to consider the formidable array advancing against him. He is led to contemplate the direful effects of such a contest, even should he prove victorious. He is reminded of the eternal horrors to which he will be consigned, should he fall in the conflict. And lastly, he is shewn the happy con- sequences of submission ; and, that by a mere for- mally giving up his kingdom, into the hands of the Pope, he would be shielded by his power from every evil. A variety of circumstances conspired to enforce the proposals, and the King in the midst of con- flicting evils, chose that which he thought the least. He solemnly delivered up his Crown and Kingdom to the protection of the Pope ; and a sum of money as part of the tributary payment was 78 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION paid down, which the Pope's legate, to shew the ^* supreme majesty of his master, trampled under his leet. But the potent Philip w^as equally imposed upon. They were both alike the dupes of the Pope, who only intended from the first, to make an open shew of his power ; and when we consi- der, that for the gratifying of this passion, he had led Philip to incur vast expences in his military preparations, we can scarcely avoid the conclusion, that Philip was the greater dupe of the two. King John indeed, made a solemn offering of his Crown to the Pope — but it was empty shew. He acquired nothing in real power. He gained, it is true, his object in the pending quarrel ; but here- in it is, that we shall be called upon to behold the superintending Providence of the MOST HIGH. It was not for the Pontiff's glory. England ALONE WAS TO BE BENEFITTED ! The wliole of the Pontiff's pride and policy was overruled, to bind another link in the unbroken series of Eng- land's greatness. It was the golden hinge on which we shall see, the liberty and safety of England is made to turn. But we must proceed. Great had been, and still were the sufferings of the nation ; and the general discontent was much aggravated by the King's mode of administering the Government ; and by his own personal con- duct. He exercised his prerogative with rigour : he indulged his licentious passions with freedom. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 79 l! and without the sanction of law, he levied burden- SECTION some taxes on the community. The fact is, that I- ever since the times of the Roman conquest the v^x^v^'O Goverament had been degenerating; and had become too personcd and arbitrary: w^hilst the true principles of the constitution were left to ex- pire, amidst Wars and Crusades and domestic dissensions. These evils may also be considered as the natural result of the feudal Institutions. But the time was arrived, when the true principles of the Constitution were to be re-asserted ; and a combination of adjuvant circumstances eminently point out the hand that w^as guiding every move- ment. Stephen Langton is to be the instrument for conducting the matter to a successful issue. In all probability, the King himself was igno- Estabiish- rant of the true grounds of the constitution. As °'*'"^''^^*^^"* . Charta. he had received the sceptre he wielded it. He was resolute and capable of sustaining it, as it came into his hands. He was not a wise Prince ; and was not, therefore, the man to think of giving useful and valuable institutions to a country. He was not the man to cement the social system by wise usages, or to ameliorate the condition of his people by judicious laws. But Stephen Langton had a well informed understanding, and made himself acquainted with the laws of Edward and the charters of Henry I. He produced them to the Barons, reminded them of their lost rights, exhorted them to assert their liberties, and pro- 80 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 81 Chap. V. SECTION mised them his utmost assistance in the contest. !• The confederacy was formed — ^the Charters in due time produced to the King ; and their demands enforced by a shew of resistance. The King seems to have been astonished at the existence of such documents ; and at once refused to yield to demands, which he considered so exorbitant. However, a just sense of the magnitude and im- portance of their cause, animated the Barons to a steady and determined resistance. A train of circumstances led the King to concede all their demands, and Runnymede, the place where the Commissioners assembled, is justly celebrated for the recovery of the principles which lie deep in the foundation of British glory. But unfortu- nately for his own memory, John repented of his act; and so "foolish and ignorant" was he, that he believed the suggestions of the enemies of his country, who whispered in his ear that he was now no longer King. He appealed to the Pope, who vigorously united with him in this unrighte- ous quarrel : — ^because he had put himself so re- cently and peculiarly, under his protection, — a circumstance upon which we shall afterwards see, in all probability, turned the salvation of the Country. Archbishop Langton nobly sustained the indignation of the Pope and encouraged the wavering Barons. The King like a roused lion pursued his Barons, and reduced them to the borders of despair ; and in their extremity they w^ere induced to take a step, SECTION which might have proved fatal to the liberties of I. their Country. They entered into a compact with ^"^''* ^• the Dauphin of France : and invited him over to their assistance — a contract, into which with the most treacherous intentions, he eagerly entered. But John, all this time, discovered the courage and resolution of his family ; and would have proved too powerful for them all, had it not pleased the Arbiter of events, whilst eagerly engaged in the pursuit of his enemies, to cut him off from the land of the living. The circumstances of his death were truly de- plorable ; and his career ended amidst clouds and thick darkness, affording a monitory warning to joos- terity, that the evil conduct of Princes, as it is more pernicious in its consequences, than that of others, is always attended with more signal punishment. Thus ended the acts of John ; but not the in- fluence of those acts. — That still remains ; and to this day, the provisions of Magna Charta are mat- ter of gratulation to Englishmen. And who can help admiring the manner in which that important Charter was established^ The circumstances which led to its accomplishment, were all beyond the reach of human controul ; it is wonderful to see, how the erring schemes of men were overruled, for the most beneficial purposes. How little did the Pope, in the elevation of Stephen Langton, intend the resuscitation of England's best hopes ! m\\ 82 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY !lll SECTION The Pope considered him a clever and fitting ins- I. trument, for furthering his own ambitious views Chap. V. ^^ England. How little did the King in opposing the election of Langton, imagine that such a result would flow from it "? — He resisted, because he con- sidered the interference of the Pope an encroach- ment upon his rights. The grant of Magna Charta w^as one of those great events, which dis- covers the progress of society ; and distinctly marks the interference of the great Author and Ce- M ENTER of the social League. The desirable consummation w^as brought about, through the instrumentality of a person^ raised up to gratify the ambition of another ; and against every human probabiHty, sent from a foreign clime to fill a vacant see, for which already there were two com- petitors ! — As I have said, the Pope did not intend the GOOD. Langton himself could not have enter- tained an idea of it. John, of course did not. — The Barons were discontented, but they w^ere en- tirely ignorant of the grounds, both of their wrongs and of the existence of their privileges. These were all the parties concerned in the affair. — Chance could not design it. For if we grant, which w^e do not, the existence of such an agency, it must NECESSARILY be blind. Because if not blind — it must be intelligent — and if intelligent, it must, in this case, be God. But Archbishop I^angton was eminently fitted for carrying the great work into effect, blind chance w^ould indeed have . OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 83 Chap. V. made a wonderful choice ! but it is absurd. It was SECTION the work of a beneficent and superintending Provi- T. dence, " who frustrateth the tokens of the liars, and maketh diviners mad. — Who turneth wise men backward and maketh their knowledge foolish."* But there is one other event, which must be noticed, and which will also tend to shew, that John was not the dastardly being w^hich he has been represented ; but was, in many respects, worthy of his august family. And if I might judge, it appears to me, that both Richard and John were endowed with great powers of mind, but ruined in education. Henry, with all his great qualities, was too indulgent a father ; and omitted that just discipline, without which the youthful mind runs wild; and the greater the abilities, the greater the devastation. John discovered what was latent in him, in the re-conquest and re-organization of Ireland; and such was his conduct in that affair, that he did more for that country, than his father Henry. And had we the history of Ireland before us, we should find, tha the was the instrument of confer- ing signal benefits upon it. The oak which is the noblest and most valua- Hemyiii. ble tree of the forest, is the slowest in its growth ; ^ ^' ^^^^' and does not arrive at its perfection till after the lapse of many years. So in all extensive moral * Prophecy of Isaiah, chap. xliv. 25. 84 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 85 II Rise and chai'acter of Feudalism. SECTION changes, and in the formation of great civil insti- I. tutions, which are destined to bless millions of the human race, we must expect to find their pro- gress to completion, slow. The feudal system contained in itself the ele- ments of a free and good government ; and was brought into this country at a very early date, as the bold institution of a war-like people, free as the mountain breeze. Its first rudiments are by no means complicated. A social band under some vahant chief, issue from their woods and marshes, like the Helvetii of old, to seek some new and more extensive territory. They enter upon the scene of warfare. They conquer. The ancient inhabitants are expelled ; and their land divided amongst the conquerors. The Chief is rewarded with the greatest share. The next in command, receive a proportionate allotment, subject to certain duties which they owe to the Chief; and under similar regulations, each individual receives his portion. All considered themselves equally free, except that they owed allegiance to their indi- vidual Chief; and were obliged to pay him mili- tary service when called upon. The chiefs were equally dependent upon the Chief Paramount. Now, it is evident that such a basis for a form of Government, might become good or bad, as cir- cumstances should act upon it. The Chiefs were liable to great oppression from the sovereign Lord ; inasmuch as his power was necessarily great ; and 1 \ I if by his vigour and wisdom, he could prevent the SECTION Chiefs from combining against him, there was no ^' limit to his exactions. The inferior vassals under ^"**'* ^' their respective chiefs, inasmuch as there was no possibility of uniting for self-defence, were liable to still greater oppression. On the other hand, if some certain limit could be placed around the authority of the Lord Paramount, beyond which he should not be allowed to pass — (a principle which of course would extend to the inferior chiefs) — ^it is easy to see, that from such an arrangement, there might evolve a happy disposi- tion of parts, w^hich would adapt themselves to each other, and strengthen and consolidate the structure of the Commonwealth. And what is the matter of fact "? Whilst the institutions of Feud- alism continued in their simplest form ; and the land was sufficient to sustain its allotted tenantry, nothing could w^ork better. There was an entire sympathy throughout the whole community, which was marked by a reciprocity of feeling and benefit. The superior ever displayed generosity and kind- ness — the inferior, gratitude and willingness to serve ; and w^hilst this happy state of things con- tinued, the confederacy w^as invincible. But the progress of time which increases states, increases their wants ; and renders their machinery more complicated; and the artificial w\ints of men giving strength to their passions, destroys the more generous feelings, and renders them rapa- il I 86 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY !M Chap. V. SECTION cious and cruel. Thus the Feudal Institution *• became, at length, the most odious and oppressive system that ever burdened the earth. The Chief degenerated from a father to a mercenary tyrant ; and the vassals from children to slaves. All vigour and union were lost. Remedies were applied. Fiefs were rendered hereditary. Knight service instituted. And at length, taxes in lieu of service. Hence arose standing armies, and the absolute power of the Sovereign Lord, in whom was vested the power of levying taxes. This was the case in Europe generally. But it was happily otherwise in England. The first barrier against the encroachment of the Feudal Power in the person of the Supreme Chief, was undoubtedly, the Magna Charta; and it is worthy of remark, that this bulwark of true liberty, did not (and I question whether it ever could) arise out of Feudalism. The reader will recollect that it was the revival of a Saxon Charter, restored and fostered by that ever memorable feudal Chief Henry. The establishment of this Charter, which laid the foundation of the principle — that no man ought to be taxed without his own con- sent — is still before us. John died in a vain attempt to revoke this document, which contained in it the substance of political freedom ; and his successor Henry III. followed in the same track. He was but ten years of age when he was crowned King; and the country was, altogether, in a h .^ OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 87 frightful condition. The French, who had been SECTION invited over by the Barons, to sustain their falling !• cause, were overrunning and devastating the land ; and when there was no further occasion for their service, they were unwilling to retire. Their leader the Dauphin, entertained the most perni- cious designs ; and, had he succeeded, no person can tell what might have been the consequence. Happily, his treachery and baseness were confessed by the Count Melun on his dying bed ; which opened the eyes of the confederate Barons, and convinced them of their mistake. But perhaps it would have been too late, had it not been for the Earl of Pembroke, guardian to the King, and the powerful influence of the Pope, which had been all along exerted against the French and the Barons. This, let it be remembered, was one of the ^006? things which arose from Johns submis- sion to the See of Rome ! The French were expel- led; and the wise Earl of Pembroke made the most judicious regulations, for restoring the peace and prosperity of the country. He caused prompt and impartial justice to be administered through the land, and the provisions of the Magna Charta to be strictly observed. But his untimely death, put an end to all his beneficial arrangements. The long and unsettled state of the country — the uncertain aspect of the government ; and the bad example of incessant resistance to the Executive, opened the way for the most grievous and accu- I M I I 88 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY ll|i SECTION mulated evils. How rife these evils were in the I- Church, will be seen from one circumstance, ^Ji^^^-^[^ amongst many others. A person was doomed by the Archbishop, to be immured within four walls for personating Jesus Christ. This pitiable man had imprinted upon his hands and feet and side, such scars as nails and a spear might have been supposed to produce, and in ignorant impiety, pub- lished himself to be the Christ. At the same time, a female following the example, pro- claimed herself as the Virgin Mary. Popular commotions in the state were frequent and daring ; and every day, the people exhibited symptoms of a low, unbridled, ignorant and licentious pros- perity. The King's Whatever were the military power or natural Ministers ra- couragc of Hcury III. his first intentions were frustrated by the Pope, who peremptorily forbad any attempt upon Philip of France ; at that time, engaged in the pious enterprize of extirpating the Albigenses. But afterwards, in all his martial acts, he was generally unsuccessful. The great defect in the King s mind, (the presence of which, is the governing principle in all great minds) w^as a want of judgment. He had no self power. He had no confidence in his own decisions. This defect obliged him to submit to the judgment of others ; whence it inevitably followed, that such persons made use of the opportunity with which they were favoured, to their own advantage. This pacious. »li !l I OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 89 arons arms. selfishness acting on all their counsels made them SECTION bad men. They became rapacious and insolent. I- Cbap. V. And their conduct caused one advance towards the crisis of this Eeign. The first minister of the King, Hubert De ^he b Burgh appears to have been a man of great en- take up dowments, both of body and mind ; and, under a more firm master, might have proved a great bles- sing to the country. His after impeachment by the Barons, was uncalled for, and vexatious. His successors were not such men : Eobert Seagrave, Peter De Rupibus, and Peter De Revaulx, — names, mentioned only to be execrated. By their impolitic advice and rapacious conduct, they gave the most just reason for the resentment of the Barons. A strug- gle ensued, in which the brave Earl of Pembroke fell a sacrifice to the bribery and artifices of these abominable men. The King is afterwards con- vinced of the evil conduct of his Ministers, and they are dismissed with infamy. The end of this quarrel with his nobles, tends to shew the kind and forgiving disposition of the King ; and makes one wish that he had fallen into better hands. The discontent excited by the flagrant conduct of the King's ministers, was frightfully aggravated by the enormous and merciless exactions of the Pope. We are compelled to notice this subject, because mohsu after all, it was the main engine whose evil-dispo- exactions of ° ^ the Pope. sed power, was made to w^ork the general good. ous 90 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. nil !l n SECTION At one time, the successor of St. Peter, sends a I. Nuncio, courteously to petition for a gratuity, to meet the expenses of the Universal Church: at another, he sends a Cardinal with full authority to demand one-tenth of all effects; and, as the demand of the Pope was urgent, the Prelates were to pay it down, and afterwards to collect it. In order to meet this demand, we are told the Clergy had to part with their vestments, and the very furniture of the Churches ; and, that no possible impediment might be in the way, the Cardinal brought usurers with him, for the purpose' of advancing money ; but on such extravagant terms, as to be followed with unavoidable ruin ! This demand actually extended to the whole produce of the fruits of the earth, whilst they were growing — an exaction which no person attempted to resist except the Earl of Chester ! The country, more- over, was tilled with the Pope s emissaries ; and multitudes of ignorant and needy ecclesiastics were sent over, armed with the Pope s bulls ; by which means they obtained vast spiritual reve- nues, whilst the Roman proctors and farmers, by every method of extortion and subtlety, collect- ed unknown sums, which they sent to their rapa- cious MASTER, To such an extent were these exactions carried, that the whole nation groaned under the burden ; and the King himself made a shew of resistance. An embassy and an epistle from the King and his Parliament, produced no OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 91 Chap. V- protest- effect upon the '"Servant of Servants;' and at SECTION length the enraged Barons drove his chaplain and !• factors out of the Kingdom. But Gregory sensi- ble of his power, grasped his iron rod, and threats ened the audacious recusants, with the effects of his resentment. At a Parliament convened at London, a formal TheKm^^and Protest was drawn up respecting the intolerable ^'^ Parliament abuses of the Church. The protest complained — that the Pope had exacted exorbitant contribu- tions from the Clergy, without the Kings consent — ^that he had filled up vacant benefices, with Italians who could neither read nor speak a word of English — that he had drawn away to a ruinous extent, the coin of the realm, that Englishmen were compelled to plead their causes in a foreign land — that the Pope's provisions and pensions were insupportable ; and that by his authority, he could dispense with customs, charters, grants, statutes, rights, and privileges. This enumeration of grievances will serve to shew, the galling and maddening bondage under which the country suf- fered. But the protest and remonstrances of the King and his Parliament, produced no other effect, than to draw from the Pope, a more masked kind of levy. He directed a bull to the Archbishop, to empower him to collect 10,000 marks, in seven years ; as was pretended for the service of the Archipiscopatc. And various levies were made on the Clergy, which they were bound by oath to .\j 92 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY r I SECTION CONCEAL. But in spite of every regulation, the I. Papal corrasions increased; and to meet before- ^"^'^' ^' hand the rising discontent and to work upon the superstitious mind of the King, an expedient is resorted to, too impious almost to be written Quid non mortalia pectora cogis Auri sacra fames / Blasphemy The Pope convcyed to the King, from Jerusa- and treachery ^ ^^^^ ^|^ mysterious solcmuity, and as the of the Pope. • x* j.t_ most valuable gift of Heaven, a portion ot the blood of the Saviour, The credulous Monarch received it with the deepest reverence — summoned a Parliament to convey to them the joyful tidings ; and conveyed it, on foot, with the most profound humility, to Westminster Abbey, where it was deposited.* As a chef-d'ouvre, a last stroke of policy, the Pope makes a treacherous offer of the Crown of Sicily to the King's Son, Edmund— an offer which he never intended to complete ; but to conduct the transfer, he pretended great sums of money were necessary. Other necessities of the state required supplies, and the king in his turn, convoked a Par- liament for the purpose of obtaining them. His demands are refused ; so that he was actually re- duced to poverty. He was obliged to curtail the ordinary expenses of his household — to stop the wages of his servants ; and to give up his alms. Every thing became venal, and offices of trust * Westminster Abbey was built by this Prince. 1 I If ^^P OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 93 Chap. V. The Govern- were bartered in the face of day. These were SECTION evils sufficient to rouse the desponding energies of I. a nation, and to bring them courage from despair. But when we add to this, the ill-advised measures of the king in surrounding himself with foreigners, and bestowing upon them the most important trusts ; and especially, the high authority to which he raised Eobert de Valentia the Queen's uncle — we need not wonder at the indignation of the ba- rons : and what further served to goad them to the highest pitch of desperation, the Arch-exactor threatened an interdict, if money was not raised. The combination of the nobles w^as powerfully conducted, under the direction of Montfert Earl ™^"^ ^^^°™^' . Aristocratic. of Leicester. The kmg is unable to resist, and submits to their terms. The nobles become pre- dominant, and the administration of affairs is placed in the hands of twenty-four of their order. The government was now reduced to an Oligarchy, but happily in the face of their declarations they were obliged to be consistent, and the more stri- king evils of the state were remedied ; and for the time, such a form of government was beneficial. — The Charters were enforced. Impartial justice was administered. Foreigners were banished ; and the annual meeting of Parliament established. Every rank in the state received a new impulse ; and an epoch in the civil Constitution was advan- cing. None of the parties engaged in this struggle, foresaw or contemplated the important change they 94 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 95 The King attempts to re- SECTION were introducing. The nobles were interested I. and ambitious ; and in all their resistance sought ^"^'' ^'' the aggrandisement of their own order. But they found from experience, that they were not able alone to resist the power of the Monarch. They sought therefore, the concurrence of the people at large— of the rich, by flattery ; of the poor, by promises. This circumstance induced the people to measure their power and feel their consequence in the state ; and was a fatal blow to the remain- ing power of Feudalism. In the mean time, the King awakened to a attempts to re- g^^^g^ ^f ^jig degraded condition ; and used the gain his power. ^^^^ g^j-gnuous cfforts to rid himself from the thraldom of the nobles. And to sanctify the attempt, first endeavoured to get rid of his oaths and promises. In order to effect this he applies to that MONSTROUS POWER, which had usurped the place of God ; and was at once absolved by his indulgent benefactor from all his obligations. The contest begins anew. The King follows the same pernicious course as before; which served the more to widen the breach. An anecdote of a cir- cumstance which occurred at this time, is w^orth recording, inasmuch as it discovers the state of feeling which existed. The King one day indulg- ing in an excursion on the river, was overtaken by a violent storm of thunder and lightning; being somewhat alarmed, he desired to be set on shore at the nearest stairs. These happened to ^. \\ Chap. V. be those of Durham house, where the Earl of SECTION Leicester then resided. The Earl, on hearing 1. that the King w^as there, ran down, with all courtesy to receive him : and perceiving that he w^as agitated, he said. " Your Majesty need not be under any alarm, for the storm is already pas- sed." " No," answered the King with a stern look: " I fear not the thunder, so much as I fear thee," at which words, the Earl somewhat con- fused replied, " Sir, I am sorry that you should fear your true friend and servant, more than the enemies and devourers of your kingdom." The contest now began in real earnest ; and for Extraordina- five years, civil war divided the land. At lensth t result «f the xi, • • 1 1 ^ . Civil War. the crisis approached; and an adverse battle, in which the King was assisted by his brother the King of the Romans, and his Son ; and in which, his own son Edward, performed prodi- gies of valour, put every thing into the power of the Earl of Leicester. The two Kings and their tw^o Sons w^ere taken prisoners ; and led in triumph by the conquering Earl ; who managed every thing at his discretion. His ambition, how- ever became so outrageous ; and his conduct so tyrannical, that he excited the jealousy of the other confederates, and especially, of the Earl of Gloucester ; and a Parliament was called, to rectify these abuses and to set Prince Edward at liberty. In this Parliament was laid the basis of the HOUSE OF COMMONS .* and from the second of Jan- \i 96 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION nary, 1265, we must date the era of this branch of I- the LEGISLATIVE POWER. Two Knights for every shire; and two Burgesses for every city and borough sat in this Parliament.* This was the great work to be achieved in this reign : it was now done ; and brought to a happy issue amidst every species of exaction, misrule, in- quietude, and bloodshed. It was from a sea of commingling and conflicting elements, that the ves- sel of the state was conducted to a safe anchorage, without any visible pilot. But there was an invis- ible and beneficent agent, correcting and subdu- ing the contending evils ; and constraining them to subserve his wise and transcendent purposes. The scene now rapidly changes. Prince Edward escapes from prison, flies to the rescue of his Father, resolutely attacks the Earl of Leicester and defeats him in a well contested battle, in which the Earl falls. The kingdom is restored to his father, who from that moment, appeared like another man. He caused the strictest justice to be enforced, called a Parliament at Marlborough to renew and establish the body of the laws of England ; at which time also, those laws were enacted which are now extant, under the title of the Statutes of Marlbo- rough ; in which the Magna Charta is solemnly confirmed. The four last years of the King s life were spent in dignified tranquillity ; and his sun went down in peace ! * Echard ex Doc. Stuart. CHAPTER VI. EDWARD I ADVANCE OF THE KINGDOM — ESTABLISH- MENT OF PARLIAMENT AND THE CONVOCATION. Most historians have concurred in remarking that SECTION during the two preceding reigns, the English !• Monarchy was greatly diminished and debased ; ^^^-^J-xL> but a little reflection will convince us, that, on the illustrious contrary, it was more firmly established and con- ^^J,^""" solidated. It was unavoidable from the very a. d. 1272. nature of the feudal institutions, but that a crisis should arise, the result of which, must determine the future course of Government. But crises are always dangerous ! inasmuch as they are the off- spring of necessity, produced by the selfishness and passions of mankind ; and seldom under the control of reason and justice. Happily, however, under the controlHng influence of Heaven, the result of the contest in England, was every thing that could be wished. The Monarchy was estab- H 98 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION lished — ^the liberty of the subject secured, and the *• master principle of legislation, introduced. There Chap. VI. ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ splendid achievement in the last two reigns ; but there was more of practical benefit. — There was less ostentation in the movements of the state ; but there was more of real acquisition : and instead of heaping reproaches on the heads of unfortunate Princes, we owe them a great debt of sympathy, as the suffering instruments, through whom so much good has devolved to us. But whatever the English Monarchy had lost in terri- tory and splendour, was soon to be recovered by the ilhistrious Edward. He had already, during the life of his father, exhibited those qualities of mind, which bear the stamp of greatness of soul. During the crisis of which we have been speaking, it was necessary for the completion of the intended good, that there should be a relaxation of the Kingly Power, and we have fully noticed all the circumstances that conspired to assail and subdue it. But the authority of the executive must again be vindicated and the tone of the coer- cive power, restored. For this purpose, Edward is raised up, in whose breast, as Selden observes — " God seejned to have pitched his tent " — He was in the Holy Land at the death of his father. In his way home he called at Sicily, and was honorably entertained by King Robert. It was here he received intelligence of the death of his son and heir ; and soon after, of the death of his OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 99 Father, at which latter announcement, he shed SECTION more tears and discovered still greater sorrow. ^ . Chap. VI. The Sicilian King astonished at this conduct, expressed his surprise to the Prince ; whose noble answer deserves to be recorded : ' nature may sup- ply to us the loss of a son ; but that of a father is irreparable/ As soon as he returned, the nation was made to feel the vigour of his hand. He redresses its griev- ances, binds up the breaches that had been made during the late contests ; and purges its corrup- tions. There are on record the names of twelve Judges, found guilty of bribery and extortion, dismissed by him from their high offices, and severely punished. In order to controul the exor- bitant power of the ecclesiastics ; the statutes of Mortmain were enacted in the very commence- ment of his reign ; and many other wise regula- tions respecting the church. From this time also we may date the origin of the convocation of the English Church, as it now exists. Such was the activity of his mind — the vigour of his judgment and the power of his arm, that he was successful in all his enterprises. He entered Wales — subdued it — slew Llewellin the last Prince and annexed the principality to the crown of England. The disputed succession to the throne of Scotland occupied a great share of his attention ; and he claimed as Lord Paramount of Scotland, the right of settling the succession to that throne. --m«'^^««fc«#'-Sr^sr'''^'*«»- i 100 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION His right was not disputed ; and after a tedious !• hearing, he decided in favour of John Baliol. Edward in entire consistency with his acknow- ledged right, on some punctilio of feudal observ- ance, commanded the King of Scotland to appear before him. This led to a quarrel ; and Edward entered Scotland with his army, in order to enforce obedience. It is unnecessary for me to enter into a detail of his wars with Scotland. — Suffice it to say, that he five times conquered that country and conducted his victorious army through the length and breadth of it. It is not my design, at present, to pursue the history of Scotland, otherwise I have no doubt, it would be seen, that he was eminently the instrument of God, in executing very impor- tant purposes in that part of the Island. I can see nothing of reason nor justice in the resistance of the Scots. During this reign a most violent persecution was raised against the Jews. — It is stated that two hundred suffered capital punishment ; and shortly after, by the advice of Parliament, the whole race were banished from the kingdom. I have seen no convincing evidence as to the real grounds of those violent proceedings. — It is a mysterious matter ; and I leave it in silence. We now find a Parliament convened at London, in which the Citizens and Burgesses regularly sit to vote their share, towards defraying the expen- ses of the state ; and from the twenty-first year of Persecution of the Jews. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 101 this reign, there is a regular and unbroken series SECTION of Parliaments to our own time. In the Parlia- I. ment of which I am now speaking, the citizens ^"^'** ^'* and burgesses voted one fifth of their goods for the service of the King— the Peers one twelfth ; but the Clergy refused to grant their aid, on account of a constitution made and published that year, by Pope Boniface, that no clergyman under the severest penalties, should concur in granting tem- poral aids without the Pope's consent. It requires some knowledge of our own weakness, to be en- abled to restrain our indignation, at such a daring invasion of all right and reason and justice ! The outrage was keenly felt by the King, and he took his measures accordingly. He immediately placed the Clergy out of the pale of the law — seized on their temporal fees, and allowed them no redress in his own courts. This intolerable mode of pun- ishment, soon brought them to their senses ; and they consented to deposit one fifth of their goods, in the churches, to be conveyed from thence by the King's collectors. But the wisdom of Edward and the true mag- Edward con. nanimity of his character shone forth most con- ^'*"'' ^^^°°* . . - Charta. spicuous, m the readiness with which he confirm- ed the Magna Charta ; when to shew his entire concurrence in its provisions, and more fully to satisfy the Parliament, he dispensed with the dubious clause. " Salvo jure coronce nostrce'' ^ 102 SECTION h Chap. VI. THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Such was his observance of justice and the strict impartiahty with which he enforced its en- actments, that he committed his own Son to the pubUc prison, for riotously breaking the park of Walter Langton, Bishop of Chester. He was preparing a sixth time to chastise the ever rebelling Scots; and like a chafed Lion roused all his energies for the occasion. But enough was done ; and the Arbiter of events aver- ted the impending danger. The career of Ed- ward was run ; and he expired in the camp at Burg on the sands, in the sixty eighth year of his age, and the thirty-fifth of his reign. He was a mighty Prince, but he forgot his origin. He re- membered not that he was dust. His resentment against his enemies survived the grave ; and with his dying breath he charged his son Edward II, not to relinquish the entire conquest of Scotland ; and ordered him to carry his bones along with him as a terror to the enemy. Alas ! a melancholy re- flection attends the recording of his dying requests. — They were inconsistent with reason and repug- nant to Christianity. " Verily every man at his best estate is altogether vanity ! " * * l^alm xxxix. v. h I CHAPTER VII. EDWARD II. — CIVIL DISSENSIONS — CONTROLLING OF THE SOVEREIGN POWER. We are again about to open a calamitous and SECTION blood-stained page of our history ; but the evils I. which it records, will be found not to have impe- ^!J!^ ZF' ded but rather accelerated the progress of the a. d. 1307. nation in its mighty course. For whilst the pre- ceding reign by its vigour and ability, tended greatly to aggrandise the realm, and to promote its essential interests, both at home and abroad — the present reign will be found, by its weakness, to have afforded an opportunity to the people, of attempting to raise another barrier, against the undefined power of the Feudal Sovereign. The King possessed the undisputed right of appointing his own ministers ; and whatever was their char- acter or conduct, there was no power to controul the exercise of his authority. It was the abuse A ^ 104 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY The King's incapacity. SECTION of this right that excited the contention, between !• the Sovereign and the people at this period And if the struggle did not terminate in providing an immediate remedy, it estabUshed a counter prin- ciple which in the end w^as triumphant. The young King disregarding the dying injunc- tions of his parent, immediately relinquished the conquest of Scotland and returned home. His first acts discovered his unfitness for Government, and how unworthy he was, to succeed to such a father. He indulged his personal resentment by committing Bishop Langton to prison ; and dis- covered his obstinate passion for favoritism, by recalling Gaveston who had been banished by his father, as alike odious to himself and the nation at large. In the company of this, justly obnoxi- ous, favorite, the King abandoned himself to the most unbecoming indulgences. His young Queen felt herself slighted ; and the nobles were disgust- ed by his extravagant attentions to the favorite ; and thus early, was the foundation laid, for a strenuous opposition to his will, an opposition which his own indolence and fatuity of mind, were only calculated to strengthen. Evils of Fa- The Barons soon conspired against him, and obliged him to promise to send Gaveston out of the Kingdom. He fulfilled his promise ; but in a way, which gave occasion for greater discontent. He sent him as his Lieutenant into Ireland, and lavished upon him every species of favour, in voritism. ; OF ENGLISH HISTORY. greater profusion. Indignant at being thus de- ceived, the Barons demand a full and unequivo- cal fulfilment of his promise ; and took up arms with intention of inforcing it. In the contest which ensued, Gaveston is taken prisoner by the confederated nobles ; and without even the forms of justice, ignominiously put to death, — a mode of procedure, w^hich, at once, exposes the unworthy motives by which their conduct was actuated. At this unhappy juncture, many grievous evils impended over the land. The King w^as defeated in an expedition he made into Scotland — a dysen- tery and pestilence committed dreadful ravages among the people ; whilst a very grievous famine followed in their train. It will give us some idea of the extent, to which this latter evil prevailed — when it is stated that malefactors committed to prison were assailed and actually devoured by the famished inmates of those horrid abodes. But to proceed. A seeming reconciliation had scarcely taken place, between the King and his Nobles, when fresh cause was given for mutual jealousies and animosities. The changeful King transferred his affections to the family of the Spensers, and on the father and son alike, bestowed his unw^earied favours. Of necessity, it laid the foundation for a new conflict ; and the Spensers were banished. But the King was w^ounded to the quick, and his resentment great. Hitherto the Queen who was 105 SECTION I. * Chap. VII. * 106 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. SECTION in the interest of the Barons, had acted as a medi- *• atrix, and by her arts and influence, prevented an hostile collision between the contending parties. But unfortunately, at the time, when the King's mind was inflamed to the highest degree, she her- self, felt aggrieved by being refused admission on some particular occasion, at the castle of one of the confederate nobles, and instantly determined upon revenge. She found no difticulty in exciting the King's mind, and fanning his smothered wrath into a flame. All the courage of his breast was roused ; and he determined to bring the Barons to subjection, or to die in the attempt. A civil war ensues; and in a fatal contest at Borough- bridge, the two leaders of the confederacy were sacrificed. The Earl of Hertford fell in the con- flict, and the Earl of Lancaster was taken prisoner. Soon after, he was beheaded at Pontefract, under circumstances very similar to those which had attended the execution of Gaveston; and, in which he had been principal actor. But these were not the only victims. Great numbers of the first nobility of the land, fell together with their leaders ; and it is stated that there never was at one time, so much noble blood spilt as on this occasion, since the conquest. The King was elated with his success ; and turned his victorious arms on Scotland. He entered that country with a numerous, but badly provisioned army, and his expedition ended in disgrace. I OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 107 In the mean time, the great catastrophe of the SECTION reign was advancing. The Queen had taken deep 1- umbrage at the Spensers, because as it is alleged, vji^^>0 they endeavoured to curtail her expensive and The Queen ^ . . T 1 takes part in licentious mode of livmg ; and to place some ^^^^ p^^^j^ restraint upon her conduct. From that moment, tragedy, she conceived a mortal dislike to the men whom she considered her rivals and oppressors ; and in the deep machinations of her heart, determined upon their ruin. This was rendered a difficult task from the late success of the King, and the total defeat of the Barons. But to such a woman, nothing was impossible. She was another Medea, and only waited for the opportunity, in order to discover the number and variety of her stratagems. That opportunity was granted to her, through the advice of the Spensers themselves. Fearful lest the King should leave the kingdom, whose pre- sence alone, restrained the violence of their ene- -they advised him to send the Queen with mies- the young Prince to France, to negociate respect- ing the affairs of Gascony. Nothing could have happened more to her mind. Her residence at the French Court, became the refuge of all the discontented from England. Amongst these, was Eoger Mortimer, a young nobleman who had been taken in the late encounter and committed to the tower. He escaped from his confinement, and made his way into France, where he was warmly 108 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY. SECTION received by the Queen, and became the object of I- her sinful passion. Chap. VII. a j i • i i . ^ . K^^->^^\^ A deep-laid plot was now concerted, m which Deep laid not ouly the Spensers, but the unfortunate Kinff Plot of the , . ,p -ITT -. , . Queen. nimselt, was included ; and nothing was wanting, but the means of carrying it into execution. In order to raise the necessary funds, she actually contracted her Son (Edward III.) to one of the daughters of the Duke of Hainault, and with the dowry, prepared a fleet and armament, under the command of the Duke's brother. She disembark- ed her troops at Harwich, and as her plan was fully matured, shewasimmediatelyjoinedby many of the nobility, and all the Bishops ; and with her army, greatly increased, went in pursuit of the King. To strengthen her party, she spread the false report that the King of France was aiding her cause, with so many Dukes and Earls that England could scarce contain them — ^that all who opposed her were already excommunicated, and to show that she came as a liberator, she ordered all the Prisons to be thrown open. The deserted King, totally unprepared for such a sudden invasion, after making the best arrange- ments within his power, fled with his favorite Spensers into the West. But this was a sinking cause — the hour of their ascendant was past ; and at every step, they were doomed to meet with dis- appointment. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 109 A scene, which was acted in the Queen's Camp SECTION on her arrival at Oxford, deserves to be recorded !• — not for its intrinsic worth — ^l^ut to manifest in v^x^v"xl the midst of much external shew, the barbarous Barbarous _ - . ^ A 'ft 1 1 ignorance of mental ignorance of the times ; and to illustrate ^j^^ ^^^^._ the important and acknowledged truth — that Religion, where there is no public opinion to overawe the selfish principle, — public virtue cannot exist. It w^as Sunday, and on such a pious expedition, and with all the Bishops in her train, it would have been out of character, not to give the most scru- pulous attention to her religious duties. On the occasion, the Bishop of Hereford was chosen to preach before the assembled troops. The selec- tion of his text. — '' My head ; my head acheth," which he dislocated from its place, in one of the simplest of narratives, * sufficiently shewed the malady of his understanding. From this text he argued, in a manner somewhat opposed to our present notions of medical treatment ; and directly at variance with our ideas of politics and divinity, — that there was no other cure for the sick and distempered head of a Kingdom, except AMPU- TATION ! In the mean time, the unhappy King had got The spensers out to sea, but the very elements fought against ^''^^c"^^^- him ; and he was obliged to put on shore, from stress of weather, and took shelter amongst the Welsh, in the Abbey of Neath, where he lay con- * 2 Kings, 4. 18. no THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. ii SECTION cealed. The relentless Queen pursued her march, !• and quickly appeared before Bristol^ which was defended by the Earl of Arundel and the elder Spenser. The place soon fell into her hands, and Spenser was executed on the common gallows. Her revenge was thus accomplishing. A procla- mation was now issued, stating, that if the King would come forward and promise conformity to the laws of the realm, he should be restored. But he dared not to trust himself in their hands. He was however discovered by the brother of the Uuke of Lancaster, and together with his unfortu- nate counsellors, seized and carried off from his sanctuary. The younger Spenser was led in a mock triumph ; and, after being exposed to uni- versal scorn and derision, was hung on a gallows, fifty feet in height — Roger de Reding, ten feet lower ; and the Chancellor Baldock, was thrust into Newgate, where he died miserably. In a Parliament convened at London, articles of deposition were made out against the imprison- ed Monarch ; and he was declared to be no longer King ; w^hilst it was further enacted, that his son Edward should be crowned in his stead. To give to these enactments, the sanctions of religion, the Archbishop of Canterbury preached a sermon on the occasion, from "the Voice of the People is the Voice of God," in which he argued, as wisely and legitimately as his Brother of Hereford had done, on the malady of the head-ache. The King de- posed. IV OF ENGLISH HISTORY. Ill The conclusion of this solemn farce, seemed to SECTION inspire the Queen with symptoms of grief, and I- she even shed tears at the degradation of her husband. But whatever was the nature of those tears, they were soon dried up by the warmth of another passion. The innocent Prince her son, moved by this appearance of sorrow, solemnly declared, that he would never wear the crown without his father's consent. Commissioners were accordingly sent to the King to Worcester Castle, where he was confined ; and by threats and promises, prevailed upon the afilicted and humbled monarch, to yield up a sceptre, already forced out of his hands. Thus ended the reign of Edward the II. through the intrigues and furious passion of an evil woman, whom God and nature designed to be his joy in prosperity, and his solace in adversity. And it would have been happy, had her machinations ended here. But guilt ; like the monster that de- voured its own offspring, is ever the destroyer of its own acquisitions. The guilty Queen and her paramour, felt themselves insecure, whilst the abjected Monarch was alive ; and fancied if he were removed, there would be no drawback upon their happiness, Alas ! how blind are the facul- ties of our mind, when obscured by vicious indul- gences ! as if the existence of a King without power, and under their own controul, could have had any real influence, in restraining their wishes. Edward HI. succeeds his de- posel Father. i'S^;r«i^i^is»#S='«'»iS«^.S! 112 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 113 SECTION But such is guilt. — ^By entertaining imaginary !• evils, it goads itself to the commission of still ^^^-^^^-^J^ greater crimes, which never fail to induce greater calamities than those it dreaded, and to hasten a more fearful retribution. The deposed After a scrics of the most cruel usage, the de- King put to pQse^j King is barbarously murdered. Nor will I stain my pages with the names of the inhuman murderers ; nor assist in giving them, even the immortality of crime. They soon followed their unhappy victim into eternity^ and have received the due rew^ard of their sin ; and as they have been blotted out of the book of the living, let them be so, from the records of History. For their supe- riors in guilt, an unseen hand was preparing a just and speedy retribution ; and from a quarter per- haps, whence they least expected it. The young King, in whose breast w^ere reposited the spirit and ability of his grandfather, soon discovered the root of bitterness, whence numerous evils sprung up to disturb and harrass the land, and he deter- mined to root it out. Accordingly with a rapidity which marks the avenging arm of Heaven, he surprised the guilty pair in Nottingham Castle, delivered Mortimer into the hands of Justice, to w^hich he shortly after paid the penalty of his life ; and committed the Queen to a Prison, where she spent the twenty-eight remaining years of her life. Surely there never was a quicker succession of crime and punishment, than that which has been recorded, all tending to shew the principles upon SECTION which the moral Government of the World is h conducted ; and at the same time, commanding ^"*''- ^"'• our admiration of the incomprehensible power of HIM, ''whose way is in the Sea, and whose path is in the great waters," and who in the midst of such moral perplexities, conducts his own purposes to their accomplishment. f OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 115 CHAPTEE VIII. EDWARD III INVASION OF SCOTLAND — FRANCE SPLENDOR OF THE PERIOD — JURIDICAL IMPROVE- MENT — MANUFACTURES ORDER OF THE GARTER INSTITUTED. SECTION The reign of Edward III. has been considered I. one of the most splendid periods of our history ; Chap. VIII. ^^^ '^^ martial glory, it well deserves the fame it Edward HI. has acquired. Edward was one of those great A. D. 1327. ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ various periods, adorned the world. In vigour of body and mind, he has per- haps never been surpassed. His foresight w^as great, his judgement quick and penetrating, and the execution of his counsels rapid and enthusias- tic. There was more of spirit than matter in all his movements. The thunder and lightning of his character declare his origin. He was in a peculiar manner, " ordained of God." 4 land. Soon after he had received the SAvord of state, SECTION and whilst he was yet I. " Imberhis Juvenis, " ^^^^^^ and under the controul of guardians, he marched invades Scot- to repulse the Scots, who had made an attack upon the English borders: and by his prudent and courageous conduct, gave the Scots a taste of what they were to expect, under his administra- tion. Much to the dissatisfaction of the young King, tlirough the interest of the Douglas party in Scotland, aided by the authority, of Mortimer and the Queen, he was induced, on the marriage of his sister with the king of Scotland to surrender all right to the sovereignty of that kingdom, and to give up various deeds of homage and fealty by w^hich its kings had been bound. With these w\is delivered up that famous evidence called '' Ragman RowW an instrument signed by the king, nobility, and prelates of Scotland; and which contained a record of all the services due to the Kings of England. But this treasonable con- duct on the part of Mortimer and the Queen, for which, no doubt, they received an equivalent, be- came afterwards the exciting cause in the breast of the king, for an attack upon Scotland. Hence, when Baliol advanced his claim to the Scottish crown, Edward was easily induced to assist him. He contented himself, at first, with taking Ber- wick and establishing Baliol : but afterward, on a defeat experienced by his new ally, he entered \ 116 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 117 First invasion of France. SECTION Scotland at two different times, in the true spirit !• of Edward I. with the most complete success ; and would, in all human probability, have made a more complete conquest of that country, than his grandfather, had he not been diverted from his purpose, by a nobler prey. He had always considered the crown of France as his own, in right of his mother, the only child of the late king, but who had herself been exclu- ded by the salic law. He did not consider her exclusion as an impugnment of his own title ; and therefore, considered his claim as preferable to that of the reigning king, w^ho was only nephew of the late monarch. — So prone are the wisest of men, to make the understanding subservient to the will ; and to suit their arguments to their wishes. But it may be doubtful whether Edward believed his own statement. It was plausible and suited his purpose. He made very extensive pre- parations, and formed a powerful league with the Emperor : and soon, with an army of forty thou- sand men, entered France and committed the most dreadful ravages. It was in this campaign that he assumed the arms and title of France, and af- fixed on his shield, the motto, " Dieu et mon droit. " The next campaign was frustrated by the medi- ation of Joan de Valois, sister to the king of France and mother to the queen of England. A third was put an end to by the Pope. But dis- \ appointments and difficulties seemed only to inspire SECTION him with greater ardour, and he roused all his L energies to prepare for a decisive blow. In the ^"^''' ^"'• beginning of the year he held his feast of the ROUND TABLE in imitation of the renowned Ar- thur, and issued his letters of safe conduct to all foreign knights and their attendants, whose plea- sure it should be, to attend a solemn tournament, to be given at Windsor for fourteen days. After his plans were fully matured, he departed Second inva for France, attended by his son the Prince of'^'^j^^g^^^j^ Wales — the most valiant of men, who combined of Cressy. in his character, all the excellences of humanity. His valour was only excelled by his modesty, and his modesty, surpassed only by his filial piety — His generosity like his courage, knew no bounds ; and when he was the conqueror of kings, it seemed only to inspire him with greater humility. With this son, then only sixteen years of age, he entered France at the head of eighty thousand men ; and with incredible rapidity and unheard of destruction appeared before the gates of Paris. In conformity with the chivalrous valour of the age, having of- fered battle to king Philip, on being refused, he advanced through every difficulty to the plains of Cressy, destined to give name to one of the most signal victories that ever ennobled a conqueror. — It was in this conflict that his young son per- formed such prodigies of valour, and turned the event of battle ; whilst his father at the head of 118 THEOCRATIC I'lIILOSOPHY I SECTION the reserve, was the spectator of his actions. At Chap'Viii. *^^ conclusion of the fight, when the King was hastening to congratulate him on his victory, the young Prince eluding his embrace, fell on his knees and implored a father's blessing. Perhaps the annals of the world do not supply us with a nobler instance of filial piety. It was in this battle that the aged king of Bo- hemia disdaining to yield, fell under the irresist- ible attack of the Prince.— I mention this circum- stance, because the three ostrich feathers worn by the Bohemian monarch, were assumed by the Prince of Wales, and by him, bequeathed to all his successors. To this memorable battle succeeded the equally memorable seige and capture of Calais ; from which he embarked in triumph for England. But he w\is not long to remain inactive. Another for- Third invasion midablc expedition is embarked for France, under the sole command of the Prince ; which, after a variety of splendid successes, ended in one of the most decisive victories ever achieved. The king of France and his son Philip, were both taken pri- soners, together with a great number of the French nobility ; and it was on this occasion, that the modesty of the Prince shone forth more illustrious, than even his valour.— For whilst the king of France and his son, with the nobles, were enter- tained in his own tent, he refused to sit at the table as a guest, but waited at the King's table as Capture of Calais. i i OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 119 one that served. As the towering cedar searches SECTION deep in the earth for the foundation of its majestic !• n ji_ 1 • 1 J. r • n • Chap. VHI. form, so the height oi superior excellence is sup- ported on the basis of deep-laid humility ; and the annals of the world may again be challenged, to produce a more striking example than the case before us. His entry into London, which was considered as a triumph by the whole nation, was conducted by him in the same characteristic manner. He laid aside every appearance of the conqueror, and whilst the king of France attired in royal magni- ficence, was mounted on a stately charger, the Prince in the most unassuming manner, rode at his side on a black palfrey. — But I feel I am di- gressing ; these splendid transactions have little to do with the line of my argument. Edward was yet in the power of his might, and he resolved to make another effort for France : and such was his extraordinary vigour, that the whole of France must have fallen under his all- conquering arms, had it not pleased the Arbiter of human events suddenly to arrest his career. The King on this occasion, had been roused to a more ample vencreance, on account of the intel- p'"^^''^^ '" i- <^ ^ France remark ligence he had received, of very extensive ravages abiy checked, made by the French on the coast of Sussex. With his wonted impetuosity he appeared before Paris, and offered battle to the Regent of France. The offer was rejected ; and after refreshing his army His further rf 120 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 121 II ii ■II SECTION for a short time, he penetrated with the most uii- I- relenting severity, into the very bowels of France v^>s>sj —as far as Chartres and Orleans. But here his devastating course was stayed. For whilst he was in the midst of his desolating triumphs, and every barrier which attempted to oppose his progress, was overthrown and dashed 'to the ground, an event occurred which brought down his pride and humbled his imperious soul.— This was an unusu- ally terrific storm of thunder, and rain, and hail ; the effects of which, filled the whole army with consternation. The King himself, was not ex- empt from the general dismay— he considered it the voice of God. Nor was it the result of a mere superstitious dread. The fury of the tempest des- troyed more than six thousand of his horses and more than one thousand of his men. It was not irrational in the King to consider it as a Divine visitation ; nor is it inconsistent with our refined notions of philosophy, to acknowledge the decency and propriety of his conduct. He fell prostrate to the earth — humbled himself under the " mighty hand of God " — adored his universal Providence, and vowed to grant to France, that peace which she had so humbly and earnestly solicited. The King The Diviuc purposes, through the instrumental- returnshon.e, ity of the King of England, were now accom- plished with respect to France ; and its terrible scourge returaed to his own land : whilst to that long distracted country, a wise and understand- ing Prince* was raised up to mollify and heal its SECTION wounds. ^' ^^, _ _, .pi Chap. VIII. But Edward was one of those gifted persons, no v^^^-v^v^ less wise and prudent in peace, than valiant and internal state *■ ^ ^ , . of the country. successful in war. During his splendid achieve- ments on the continent, he did not sustain with a feeble hand the sceptre of government in his own country ; but restrained the vicious and punished the wicked. " He held not the sword in vain. " The peaceful and industrious had the most ample protection ; and thus, w^hilst the public tranquil- lity w^as preserved — the arts and manufactures, trade and commerce, flourished to a very great ex- tent. One circumstance, recorded in history, will serve to shew the great wealth imported into the kingdom at this time. — Sir Henry Pickard a mer- chant of London is stated to have given an enter- tainment at his own table, to the four kings of England, Scotland, France and Cypms, attended by their sons and the chief Nobility. — An honour, not often coveted by, or conferred upon a subject. No doubt these were, prosperous times for Eng- land, consolidating the basis of her future wealth. But pride and luxury came in the train of pros- perity and conquest. Foreign modes of dress and furniture, and especially those of the French, found their way into the establishments of the rich. Perhaps, in these respects it was a season of improvement. — But the historian's page informs * Charles the wise. 122 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY. OF ENGLISH HISTORY 123 The nation chastised SECTION US, that it was not without injury to the morals of Chap^iii. ^^.^ ^^'^^'^^' -^"^^^^ ^* ^^ impossible for the human ' mind, to withstand the temptations which arise, from the influx of wealth and luxury. This dete- riorating principle in human nature, was long re- cognised and acted upon by the rude forefathers of Europe. The Suevi were not the only nation who prohibited the temptation.— '^ Vinum ad se omnino importari non sinunt, quod ea re ad laborem fe- rendum remollescere homines, atque effseminari arbitrantur.* " The English nation full of prosperity and riches, and giving way to its accompanying evils, broke loose from the restraints of virtue and propriety— for the people knew little of those of religion— and prepared for themselves a speedy and righteous chastisement.f The plague which had begun in Turkey and in its course, visited Italy and France, broke out with great fury in England ; and filled the whole country from one end to the other, with mourning and lamentation. * CaBs. be bell. Gall. lib. 4. Cap. 2. t If this statement—that the Plague was a punishment for the moral turpitude of its people-be considered an unfounded fhTR m" ' /^l^"^^'' ^^« «»b' to observe, that as he believes the Bible to be a revelation from God, and finds from that source that the pestilence is one of those peculiar methods by which the Almighty Governor punishes the world; he is bound to consider such a chastisement as proceeding immediately from .urh 7\ ,^"^/P^^t from scripture what shall we make of such direfu calamities? Can they be generated in certain ftxed principles and by a certain process of nature ? That is, must they mevitably arise, and without interference, in the We have to refer to this period that beneficial SECTION change in our judicial proceedings, by which it I. Chap. VIH. direct working of the material system of the universe? Even then, the principle must have been inserted in the primaeval plan, by the Supreme Architect. But it would impeach his wisdom could it be supposed, that he had put this principle into the construction of the universal system, without some grand design. The question is : What is that design ? We answer punishment. All the irregular but necessary actions of nature are beneficial. The tempest and the earthquake have their advantage in the material world. But this action of the pestilence is on the rational being. Must it not bear a 7no7'al aspect? It is true ; it acts on his material part, and may be asked, may it not be to purge and thin the dense ranks of men ? We might allow this, without touching the argu- ment : for, where men are the densest, in general they are the most wicked and ripest for punishment. But then the pesti- lence must, under those circumstances, destroy the most^ where there are the most. But this we do not see to be the case. England has just been visited with the pestilence;* and so has France. London has a million more inhabitants than Paris — but the disparity in fatal cases on the side of Paris, has been prodigious. It is not therefore intended to act as a material^ but as a moral purge. Never was the nature of a pestilential disease, so accurately and scientifically examined, as in the present visitation ; and the most learned of the inquisitors have agreed, that the disease is not propagated by contagion or in- fection — but that the impregnating miasma only takes efiiict in certain cases ; in which they affirm there is a predisposing cause. — But what is that predisposition ? To this no certain answer can be returned, except that in general it is found to exist in the poor, the vicious, and the dissolute. What do we want more ? The argument need not be pursued. But it must be borne in mind that when we speak of the pestilence as a Divine visitation and punishment, we speak of it as a national, not as an individual punishment. It is not meant to imply, that those who are cut off by the pestilence were more wicked, than those who remain. By no means. Often- times the most virtuous individuals are sacrificed. But this is a still greater national calamity. The state is deprived of its best citizens. Families are bereaved of their supporters. Neighbourhoods of their benefactors. Mourning and lamen- tation, and woe, are propagated throughout the land. * A:,iatic Chulera, A. D. 1832. t-'-^«^''xJ> All these things were transacted before the king was declared to be of age. After he assumed the reins of government in a more formal manner, and appointed exclusively his own ministers, the same infatuated course was pursued; and the utmost prodigality prevailed in every department of the state. Every thing was now tending to a rapid issue, and the course of events every day taking a more decisive turn. Evil counsels prevailed — dis- orders were multiplied — and discontent increased. Lollards or This era, fruitful as it was in civil strife, must Pro^tants in- ^g remarked as the date of the increase of the Lollards, who had been gradually springing up, from the doctrines and teaching of the celebrated Wicliff. These were the first fruits of the refor- MATiON, and if we are to judge from the perse- cutions instituted against them, their number even at this time, must have given considerable alarm to the Papal Church. We are willing to grant to many of their persecutors the fullest claim to sin- cerity, and to allow that in so doing, they thought they were doing God, service : but it only shews us the fearful apostacy of the human heart ; that in a church of Apostolic origin, and professedly built upon their doctrines, its members should so far have departed from the truth, as not to possess so much of the spirit of Christianity as to res- train them from acts that would have disgraced a OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 135 synod of infernal spirits. I do not use this ex- SECTION pression for the sake of making a degrading com- !• parison ; it is degrading — but, in sincerity, I ^^^^v^x^ could not find another so suitable. — And who, that considers the barbarous methods resorted to, for the extermination of those ingenuous and free born men, and in many cases, eminent examples of christian excellence, can for a moment doubt of the fitness of the comparison '? I would not visit the whole crime of the tortures and murders of this time, to the then living agents of the church of Eome, but to the false and corrupted system of ages — to the blindness and wickedness of human nature. We cannot help commiserating the per- secutors, more than the persecuted : for with res- pect to the former, their triumph such as it was, was brief, and they are now suffering the reward of their evil deeds— whilst the latter, by their con- stancy to the death, in many instances, served to discover the title thay had received to the fruition of the life eternal. Whilst religious persecution was raging with Murder of unrelenting severity, civil disorders were on the '^e Duke of increase ; and in the progress of the political tra- gedy, the noble minded Duke of Gloucester was trepanned, in the stratagem of which, the King was the principal actor. Their unhappy victim was sent to the castle of Calais, where he was shortly after secretly murdered. After this work of death, the King and his ministers, by bribery i 136 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION and threats gained an ascendancy in the ensuing I- Parliament. Many of the confederate nobles fell into their merciless hands. All things became venal ; and crime enjoyed an uncontrolled sway. The King by the murder of one of his uncles and the death of the other, which happened about the same time, finding himself free from all controul, gave himself up to every species of extravagant indulgence. The nobility followed his example, and riot and luxury prevailed. The national cha- racter declined. The energies of the country w^ere enfeebled; its commerce fettered, and its power weakened. Extortion and arbitrary exac- tion increased on the part of the government ; and the nation seemed to have reverted back, both in its liberties and constitution. But the King was fast approaching the end of his imprudent career. He had determined upon an expedition to Ireland. Before his departure, he exacted heavy fines from seventeen whole counties, which ten years before had joined with the Duke of Gloucester, although a general pardon had been granted. He also de- clared the Duke of Northumberland guilty of high treason, because he was not present to attend him; although his presence w^as absolutely ne- cessary on the borders of Scotland. But these were his last inconsiderate acts: During his absence the exiled Hereford, now, on his father's death Duke of Lancaster, arrived by invitation in England, with a very slender Retribution awaits the Kin.:'. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 137 armament, but which in a short time, amounted to SECTION an irresistible force. His progress towards Lon- ^ ^ , . Chap. IX. don, was marked with demonstrations of joy by all ranks of people, and he was universally hailed as a DELIVERER. When the King heard the tidings, the native courage of his family seemed to revive in him, and he determined, immediately, to embark his troops for England. But he w^as detained in Ireland, by the advice of his friends, till it was too late, and the authority of Henry was paramount. On his arrival, therefore, he was obliged to submit to his once banished subject, but now, triumphant rival ; and the sad sequel of his story is too well known to need recapitulation here. The whole of this reign is pregnant with in- struction, both of a private and public nature. In Richard II. we behold a youth of the finest natural parts, ruined in education, and blasted in his moral powers by early indulgence and flattery. In a political point of view, turbulent as things were, and tragic as the whole reign was, yet w^e can- not help observing that the social system progres- sed. An attempt was made by the executive to become absolute, and the attempt appeared to be successful. But when it seemed to be predomi- nant — it w^as suddenly arrested in its career, and the guilty contriver, at once received the punish- ment of his crimes, and the overthrow of his purposes. 138 SECTION L Chap. IX. THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY. The emphatic language of the ancient patriarch is strikingly applicable to this unfortunate and guilty monarch. " The light shall be dark in his tabernacle ; and his candle shall be put out with him : The steps of his strength shall be straight- ened, and his own counsel shall cast him down. He shall be driven from light into darkness and chased out of the w^orld. He shall neither have son nor nephew among his people; and none remaining in his habitation.* ♦ Book of Job. xviii. chap. THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY, &c. SECTION II.— CHAPTER I. ACCESSION OF THE HOUSE OF LANCASTER, HENRY IV. INVASION OF THE FEUDAL SYSTEM AND THE DAWN OF RELIGIOUS PROTESTANTISM. We are now approaching the period of the first civil wars — a period full of calamity to our fore- SECTION fathers, and pregnant with instruction to ourselves. II. The appearances in the moral world, are as much ^^^^^^^^^ the effects of certain causes as those we find Accession of in the material system. — The sultry calm prepares ^^^^ "" the way for the raging storm. — The fierce tempest Henry iv. is exhausted by its own violence. The intense sun-beams whilst they dry up the parched glebe, exhale the showers which are intended to fructify it. — The law which rules the moral world is as stri- king and permanent. Vice invariably produces misery. Passion is punished by its own excesses ; and a course of depravity is followed by a train of 140 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 141 I SECTION evils, and long remedial inflictions. Nor are these II- effects less observable in whole communities than \^^^sy^^^ in individual persons. The mighty Being who has impressed the general law upon the nature of things, has given it an efficiency which no policy can avert, no power resist. Indeed, it derives its authority from His own attributes ; and is, by con- sequence, as certain in its operations, as it is irre- sistible in its j^ower. DukeofLan- The title of Hcury IV. Duke of Lancaster, to caster and the crowu, was not constitutionally ffood, but he Archbishop . ./ o 7 Arundel ban sccmcd iucvitably seated on the English throne ; ^si^ed^by Rich- ^nd, whocvcr considers the depraved and hopeless character of Richard II. — the events which imme- diately succeeded, and those which followed in the train of Henry, will be struck with the circum- stances which led to his elevation. Henry, whilst Duke of Hereford, had been banished by Richard for a certain term of years : but on the death of his father, his banishment was rendered perpetual, and his estates were confiscated — an act repre- sented by historians as founded in jealousy, and, dictated by rapacity.— At all events, it was arbi- trary and unjust. Arundel archbishop of Canter- bury, had also suffered exile under the same monarch ; and became the chief instrument in bringing about the present change in the affairs of England. Their injuries brought them into public view, and at the same time, put into their breasts the desire of revenge. f, To these distinguished individuals, the discon- SECTION tented in England turned their eyes ; and the H. Archbishop was made the negociator between ^^^^^^-^ them and the duke of Lancaster. But the duke was difficult to move. He was the most cautious and prudent of men ; and, if left to himself, would never have attempted glory which was to be won by hazard. At length, however, excited by the representa- tions of the archbishop, and emboldened by the invitations of some of the English nobility, at the very juncture, when Richard's exactions and tyr- ranny were become odious, and he himself in Ire- land, he set sail from France ; and with a train of not more than eighty persons, hovered about the coasts of England. His little fleet was not more the sport of the wind and the waves, than his own mind was, of doubt and indecision — yet as the pilot keeps the helm steady to its point, so Henry's mind did not lose sight of the object he had in view, and, at length, he ventured to land, under the sole pretension of laying claim to his patrimony. The stratagem took. The king's ministers pre- The Duke pared to resist his advance, but the people refused encouraged to i . . invade Eng- to act, and alledged their unwillingness to fight land, with very ajjainst a person, the descendant of one of their ^"^'^^^"^^'^ n i ^ ^ means. kings, and who had been so unjustly treated. — From the manifestation of this feeling, which arose spontaneous from untutored breasts, followed the success of Henry IV. His party was strength- 142 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY ^ SECTION ened and the prospect of a throne opened before H« him, whilst' the friends of Richard were disheart- ened and fled. But the king himself was not intim- idated, and would have hastened as we have seen, with vigour to support his falling throne, had he not been deterred by the infatuated advice of his counsellors. Everything facilitated the advance of his rival. — He was received at London amidst the deafening shouts of the multitude, and from thence hastened with such rapidity to meet the king at Bristol, that he might have used the concise and elegant language of Caesar, with even greater truth than that conqueror : " veni — ^vidi — ^vici. * " The meeting between Henry and Richard is so illustrative of human character, in the overbearing insolence of prosperity on the one hand, and the forced submission of humbled pride on the other, that I must venture to insert it as given by his- torians. The interview was at Flint Castle, where Henry introduced himself to the King, who on seeing him enter, said : '' Cousin of Lancaster you are welcome." To which the Duke replied. '' I am come rather sooner than you appointed me, be- cause the fame of your people is, that for these twenty-one years you have governed ill and with rigour, on which account they are much dissatis- fied ; but if Heaven please, I will help to govcra * I came — I saw — I conquered. # OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 143 better for the future. " To which the king an- SECTION swered. — " Cousin, if it pleases you, it pleaseth II- Chap. I. Never was an enterprise, attended with such The rightful ^. - heir is set aside important results, undertaken with so little prepa- ration and design. The originators of it, appear to have left the scheme to its own workings. — It seemed to gather the material it fed upon, as it advanced. — It succeeded, and Henry IV. ascended the throne of England. The change was so sud- den that the majority of the people were taken by surprise ; and many were hurried by their enthu- siasm into measures, which they had not power to controul. If Richard was a bad man and a bad king, Henry was a usurper whilst Edmund Mor- timer, Earl of Marche, descended from an elder son * of Edward III. was alive. The people in the hour of intoxication did not think of this ; but the circumstance of Henry offering himself as the avenger of their wrongs, was eagerly hailed ; and they hurried without reflection, to support him. Our passions are our worst counsellors, and Eviisofusur. when we act upon their suggestions, we are mor- p^*^'*""' ally sure to suffer. It was remarkably verified in the present instance. All the parties engaged in these transactions were highly culpable. The duke of Lancaster was possessed with the most abject revenge and the most flagrant ambition, * Lionel, the third son of the duke of Lancaster was from John the fourth son. mmmm^ f 144 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION which overthrew in his breast all the principles of !*• justice and religion. The archbishop Arundel, CMaP. I. • 1 • ' n ^ v^^-v^v^ the more enterprising of the two, w^as actuated by a highly vindictive spirit, and urged by motives as base as the principal actor. The people were impelled by an unreasonable and reckless desire for change ; and acted with their proverbial incon- stancy. It was a general phrensy. Its influence pervaded all ranks of society ; and the bishop of Carlisle was the only solitary individual who lifted up his voice in Parliament, against the violent and precipitate measures of the day. But nothing could stop the current in its course, — Eichard is deposed and Henry becomes king, as Hume says, " nobody knew how, or wherefore ! " All was triumph and rejoicing with the prevailing party, and the ambition of Henry was gratified in the pos- session of a throne. But an unseen hand, whilst it was conducting these conflicting elements to a benevolent issue, as it respected the social system, was preparing a long series of punishments for the individual actors in these disgraceful scenes, as well as for the nation at large. The lawful Thc murdcr of Richard began the fatal tragedy. Kin,m„rdered j^ ^^^ j^c cxpiatcd to socicty, the mui'dcr of his uncle, the illustrious and patriotic Duke of Glou- cester, afl'ording another infallijjle proof, that the declaration of the King of kings cannot l)e evaded, — " Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed.* " * Gen. chap. ix. 6. OF ENGLISH HISTORY, 145 The throne of Henry established as it was on SECTION such restless elements, could not long repose H. in quiet. These hidden fires soon began to dis- ^"*''' ^' cover themselves, and Henry had scarcely gained the seat of pre-eminence, when a formidable con- spiracy was organized by some of the first nobles of the land. It was conducted with the utmost secresy, cemented by the most deadly hatred, and strengthened by the most inviolable oaths. But dark and deadly as it was, it was not to prevail. Purposes not theirs', were to be answered. The plan of the conspirators was, to propose that a tournament between the Earls of Huntingdon and Salisbury, should be holden at Oxford, to which the King was to be invited as judge ; and it was resolved that during the sitting, whilst all were intent on the games, he should be assailed and murdered, together with his train. The parties were even now assembled, and the conspiracy King and his court were expected on the succeed- *^^'"^^ ^^^ J XT n A^ • Kingfrustrated mg day. JN one ot the conspirators were wanting except the Earl of Rutland, and conjecture was busy at work as to the cause of his absence. The Earl on his way to the place of rendezvous, could not allow himself to pass the house of his father, the Duke of York. Whilst they were at dinner, the duke espied the label of the document, drawn up by the conspirators, hanging out of his son's pocket, and judging it to be something extraordi- nary, forced it from him. Having reviewed the I f 146 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. SECTION contents, and finding his son's name with the n. names and seals of the conspirators, he was filled with surprise, alarm and resentment. He rose from table and without a moment's delay, rode off to Windsor, determined to lay the matter before the King. The Earl of Rutland, finding it impossible to stay his father from his purpose, resolved to make a desperate effort for his life. He rode to Windsor another way ; and, outriding his father, arrived first at the Castle, threw himself at the King's feet, confessed the whole conspiracy, and implored pardon for his offence. The king passed his word, provided, what he had related should be found true. By this time the Duke of York had arrived, who immediately put the traitorous document into the King's hand. On the other side, the conspirators assured l)y the absence of Rutland, and the non-appearance of the King, that their plot was discovered, were hurried into the most desperate measures. By a variety of stratagems and falsehoods, they contrived to raise an army of thirty thousand men : but they were preparing for themselves a righteous and swift destruction, the due reward of their many enormities. The manner in which it was accom- plished was extraordinary. — The leaders fell be- fore they encountered the enemy — their army was routed without a conflict. The Conspirators were encamped near Reading. punish^r"^ '^^^ ^'^^^^ took up their lodging in the neighbour- OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 147 Chap. I. Their treason ing village, whilst the army lay encamped in SECTION the fields. The people of the village in which H. the Earls of Kent and Salisbury, chiefs of the faction, had taken up their quarters, exasperated by the false reports of the conspirators, surrounded the house where they lodged, and made a desper- ate attack upon it. Their assault was resisted, with effect, for several hours by the brave inmates. But by an act, which was undertaken to save them, their fate was sealed. A certain Priest with the intention of diverting the attack, set fire to another part of the village, which proved a double calamity. For the army of the conspirar tors perceiving the flame, and supposing it to be the sign of the King's approach, fled with precipi- tation ; whilst, the town people enfuriated to the utmost degree of madness, resolved to quench it with the blood of their oj)pressors. Thus perished the Earls of SaUsbury and Kent.* The Duke of Gloucestor died on the scaffold. The Earl of Huntingdon escaped to the sea, but was driven back, again and again; and, when taken, was conveyed, as it were, by accident, to the late Duke of Gloucester's house, where his head was struck off, the vengeance of Heaven meeting him in the very precincts of that nobleman's house, to whose murder he had been instrumental ! The civil blood shed in this conspiracy was immense. But it was only the first of that blood, that was to flow ♦ Half brother to Richard. \ n \ i 148 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. T. Rise of Owen Glen'^»»'~-iism^:^^^s^, . - 153 TFIEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY ClIAP. I. SECTION the religious world, it required a mighty impulse to "• shake their usurpation. Nothing could have been better devised for this purpose, than the flames of martyrdom. It was the master-piece of human cruelty; and its abettors thought, it was the ne plus ultra of policy, and the most effectual prohibition. But in following their blind counsels, they were laying the sure ground for their own overthrow ; and a firm foundation for the establishment of truth ! What could speak more powerfully to the breasts of men, than such inhuman exhibitions ? What could be better calculated to awaken the most benighted — arouse the most indolent, and rivet the attention of the most careless '? And such were the effects. As to the martyrs them- selves we need not speak. Their sufferings were gyeat — ^but their happiness and reward, are eternal ; and, during the short time of their persecution, they enjoyed more solid satisfaction, than their persecutors did, in their whole lives. But to return, -ress of I^ reviewing the multiplied disorders of this the sodai sys- reigu wc shall find that the frame work of Soci- ety was established. The Country underwent a purgation, similar to that it experienced, under William I. The proud, restless and barbarous spirits of the age were humbled or extirpated. The feudal barrier was invaded. The middle and independent class of society grew more vigorous and powerful. Through the flattering indulgence of the King, the house of Commons, on which he tem. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 159 so much relied for the validity of his title, rose to SECTION an authority to which it had never before attained. H. He even allowed them to appoint officers to watch ^^^^' '* over the expenditure of their subsidies. They proposed and carried into effect, the most whole- some measures, and even went so far, at this early period, as to suggest the propriety of curtailing the revenues of the Church. But the Clergy had gained the ear of the Monarch ; and his former promises, urged on by their arts and his own su- perstitious feelings, led him to endeavour by a va- riety of acts, in favour of the Church, to remove from his conscience, its awakening alarms. He even united with them, as we have seen, in the persecution to the death, and so, indeed, did the Parliament, of the disciples of Christianity. The proposal of the Commons was therefore, rejected, but it serves to shew, to what extent the eyes of the community were open, at that time, to the glaring enormities of the Ecclesiastical body. The latter end of this reign was tranquil and well conducted. Henry was inflexible in Justice, and impartial in its administration. He was wise and prudent in his schemes for aggrandising his Country. He engaged in the adjustment of the cause between the two contending Popes, the end of which was, the rejection of both ; and the elec- tion of Alexander V. to the Papal chair. He was taking an interest in the unhappy policy of France, now torn asunder by the factions of Bur- 153 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION the religious world, it required a mighty impulse to I^* shake their usurpation. Nothing could have been \^^^s/^^^ better devised for this purpose, than the flames of martyrdom. It was the master-piece of human cruelty ; and its abettors thought, it was the ne plus ultra of policy, and the most effectual prohibition. But in following their blind counsels, they were laying the sure ground for their own overthrow ; and a firm foundation for the establishment of truth ! What could speak more powerfully to the breasts of men, than such inhuman exhibitions ? What could be better calculated to awaken the most benighted — arouse the most indolent, and rivet the attention of the most careless ? And such were the effects. As to the martyrs them- selves we need not speak. Their sufferings were great — but their happiness and reward, are eternal ; and, during the short time of their persecution, they enjoyed more solid satisfaction, than their persecutors did, in their whole lives. But to return. Progress of I^ reviewing the multiplied disorders of this the social sys- rcigu we shall find that the frame work of Soci- ety was established. The Country underwent a purgation, similar to that it experienced, under William I. The proud, restless and barbarous spirits of the age were humbled or extirpated. The feudal barrier was invaded. The middle and independent class of society grew more vigorous and powerful. Through the flattering indulgence of the King, the house of Commons, on which he li OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 159 Chap. I. so much relied for the validity of his title, rose to SECTION an authority to which it had never before attained. H. He even allowed them to appoint officers to watch over the expenditure of their subsidies. They proposed and carried into effect, the most whole- some measures, and even went so far, at this early period, as to suggest the propriety of curtailing the revenues of the Church. But the Clergy had gained the ear of the Monarch ; and his former promises, urged on by their arts and his own su- perstitious feelings, led him to endeavour by a va- riety of acts, in favour of the Church, to remove from his conscience, its awakening alarms. He even united with them, as we have seen, in the persecution to the death, and so, indeed, did the Parliament, of the disciples of Christianity. The proposal of the Commons was therefore, rejected, but it serves to shew, to what extent the eyes of the community were open, at that time, to the glaring enormities of the Ecclesiastical body. The latter end of this reign was tranquil and well conducted. Henry was inflexible in Justice, and impartial in its administration. He was wise and prudent in his schemes for aggrandising his Country. He engaged in the adjustment of the cause between the two contending Popes, the end of which was, the rejection of both ; and the elec- tion of Alexander V. to the Papal chair. He was taking an interest in the unhappy policy of France, now torn asunder by the factions of Bur- 160 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY death. SECTION gundy and Orleans. He was even indulging II. thoughts of the Crusades ! ^^^i^:4i^ ^^^* ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ of ^is foreign designs he was The King's surprized by death. His summons was sudden and unexpected. He was seized with* apoplexy w^hilst offering up his prayers before St. Edmund's Shrine ; and died within the precincts of West- minster. Whilst the lamp of life was lingering in its socket, he employed the lingering moments in giving his last injunctions to his Son. He exhorted him to administer the law with imparti- ality, to succour the distressed, and to beware of flatterers, with many other sage observations re- specting government. Henry IV. was, certainly, admirably adapted for the situation to which he was unexpectedly raised. He made the best, of the worst materials. He was prudent in counsel and prompt in execu- tion. He was the same man, both in prosperity and adversity. He was courteous and affable ; and by his familiarity, won the humbler classes of his subjects. I do not upbraid his character with cruelty. — All his acts were rendered neces- sary, to sustain the course he had entered upon. — His severity was not from choice, but necessity. He died young, at the age of forty-seven ; but he was old, in experience. He was one of those men who gain wisdom from their former errors : and cer- tainly, the latter end of his life exhibits a great de- gree of moral, I wish I could say. Christian virtue. His Charac- ter. SECTION II. CHAPTER II. HENRY V THE CONQUEST OF FRANCE : STRUGGLES OF PROTESTANTISM. Chap. U, A. D. 1413 Henry V, We are now about to enter upon a celebrated por- tion of our history.— The period it embraces is ^^^™^ brief, but the reign of Henry V. is pre-eminent in martial achievement and national triumphs, and has always been the boast and pride of Englishmen. So great was the confidence, and such, the sub- mission inspired into the people, by the distin- guished abilities of Henry, that all ranks of peo- ple were anxious to swear allegiance to his person, even before coronation. This unanimity of mind and feeling, predicted a vigorous reign. The body politic was animated with one soul, and hence it was likely, that its motions would be uniform and powerful. The coronation was solemnized on the ninth of April. His words and actions were manly, wise, and prudent. He seemed to enter upon the M 162 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTIO^T functions of his high dignity with more than mor- II. tal energy ; and raised the hopes of his admiring Chap. u. ^^^^^^^ ^^ ||.g highest pitch. He dismissed the flatterers of his youthful follies — regulated the ju- dicial proceedings — removed incompetent and cor- rupt officers — endeavoured by proclamation, to in- stil some moral vigour into the mind of the com- munity, and sat every day, for a certain period, to hear the petitions of the people. Before he attend- ed to the funeral obsequies of his father, he endea- voured to make some reparation to the memory of the unfortunate Kichard, by removing his body, which had been meanly interred at Langley, with great solemnity, to Westminster. He went further, and in compliance with the superstitious and unhallowed notions of the time, sent to llomxC for absolution, from the crime of his death. A strong proof to us, of the immense power the Papal throne exercised over its subjects, when such a strong mind as that of Henry's was thus pow^erfully induced to yield to its influence. Persecution Scarccly had Arundel the Archbishop of Can- ofthe Lollards. ^g^l^yj.y^ performed the ceremony of the Corona- tion, than he entered with fiery zeal on the duti/ of persecuting the Lollards, or protestants of the day. By his influence, another of those hateful engines of arbitrary power, a commission, was is- sued to enquire into the character and extent of heretical opinions. The report of the enquiry was, that the doctrines of Wicliff had spread to i OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 163 Chap. U. a most alarming extent through the country ; and SECTION especially at Oxford, where the students had im- H- bibed them with enthusiasm. A Synod or Con- vocation was assembled at St. Paul's, to receive the report of the commissioners ; and when it w^as delivered, the whole assembly was throw^n into consternation. In looking round for a victim by whose destruction, they might strike a salutary terror into the minds of the heretics ; and put a timely check to their pernicious doctrines — the eyes of all were fixed upon Cobham, a nobleman of high birth, and distinguished abilities, both as a statesman and a soldier. He was most obnoxious to the hierarchy, for the unwearied zeal with which he propagated the simple doctrines of Christianity ; his example was considered most dangerous, and, if unchecked, most fatal to the interests of the Papal church. But Lord Cobham stood high in the favour of the young King, and to accomplish his fall was acknowledged to be a difficult enter- prize. But it was eff'ected by the artifice and management of Arundel. The King undertook to use his influence with Lord Cobham, and to en- deavour to reclaim his misguided servant, but failing to accomplish his purpose, he gave him up to the will of his enemies. Lord Cobham's answer to the King, from its true Protestant spirit, is wor- thy to be recorded,— '' You, I am always most ready to obey, because you are ' God's Minister ' and bear the sword for the punishment of evil 164 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. IT. Lord Cobham brought to trial. t SECTION doers. But as to the Pope and his spiritual do- 11. minion, I owe them no obedience, nor will I pay them any ; for as sure as God's word is true, to me it is fully evident, the Pope of Rome is the great Antichrist, foretold in Holy writ, the ' Son of Perdition, ' the open adversary of God, and the abomination standing in the Holy place. " This noble declaration should be engraven upon the hearts of our children to all generations. Arundel, supported by the sovereign power, is- sued a citation for Cobham to appear before him, which refusing to do, he was excommunicated.— He was however, at length, obliged to appear, and after a long and vexatious trial, in which he evinced much of the wisdom and spirit of Christi- anity, he was condemned. " The day" said Arun- del, " passes away fast, you must come to a con- clusion.— You must either submit to the ordinances of the church, or abide the dangerous consequen- ces." To which Cobham replied.—" My faith is fixed. Do with me what you please." The Pri- mate without further delay, "judged and pro- nounced Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham to be an incorrigible, pernicious and detestable heretic," and having condemned him, he was delivered to the secular jurisdiction for the execution of the sentence. * The day which passed over the heads of that as- sembly, has left a melancholy record of their deli- * Rymer vol. ix, p. 61. Fox p. 642. ■ , OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 165 Chap. H. berations. It has passed away — ^but the record SECTION remains, a stain upon their memory on earth and an accusing witness against them in Heaven ; and observe this remarkable fact. — The Archbishop w^ho presided on that occasion was destined, in a shorter interval than his victim, to appear before the tribunal of perfect justice and unerring WISDOM. He died on the tw^entieth of February, of an inflammation of the tongue, with which, it is said, he was seized at the moment of pronouncing sentence upon Lord Cobham. Be that as it may, his death was sufficiently striking to draw the fol- lowing remarks from Bishop Goodwin : " He who had withheld from the people, the word of God, the food of the soul, by the just judgment of God, had his throat so closed, that he could not speak a single word, nor swallow meat nor drink, and was thus starved to death.* " His death caused some disorder in the councils of the persecutors, and Lord Cobham contrived means to escape from his confinement in the tower. He fled into Wales, and for the space of four years, eluded the maUce and vigilance of his enemies. Happily, in the midst of the darkness and igno- rance of the times, and the enormities of the Papal church, Christianity was gaining for itself a throne in the hearts of thousands. The writings of Wicliff, like a lamp in a dark place, shot an enlivening ray throughout the land, and many * Ency. Brit, in loc. I 166 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION there were, who hailed the light and rejoiced in II* it. No stronger proof can be given of the very ^^^-^^)-^^ general bias in favour of the doctrine of the gos- pel as inculcated by Wicliff, than the circum- stance, that when the King had fixed a great price on the head of Lord Cobham, no person could be found to betray him. Origin of the ^^t whilst the rulcrs of the Papal church were War with thus pcrsccutiug Christianity to the death, the instability of their ow^n usurpation was manifest ; w^hilst God was designing, for the present, to put a stop to their deadly persecutions. The Commons brought in a bill to put down the Monasteries, and to reform, generally, the intolerable abuses of the ecclesiastical body. This bold enactment filled the whole Hierarchy with alarm and resentment. To use the words of the historian* which are suf- ficiently expressive. " This bill caused the Abbots to sweat, the proud Priors to frown, the poor Friars to curse ; the foolish Nuns to weep, and all her merchants to fear, lest Babel should sink." The bill, however, was not fully carried into effect, yet one hundred and ten monasteries w^ere suppressed and their temporalities given to the King. But the measure of their iniquities w^as not yet filled up. Neither the rulers, nor people, were qualified to reform ; and the King is divert- ed from further enquiry by a nobler prey, in pur- suing which, he was destined to become the scourge * Hall. Hist. .H I 1 OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 167 of France, already distracted as we have seen, SECTION with the factions of Orleans and Burgundy. Archbishop Critchley had succeeded Arundel in the see of Canterbury, and was equally conspi- cuous for his talents and intolerance. He foresaw the evil effects likely to result to his own order from such proceedings in Parliament ; and by a bold and inhuman stroke of policy, determined to put a stop to them for the present. He began by rousing the martial spirit of the King, and turning his thoughts to the ambition of empire and the glory of war ; and in a set speech in Parliament, reminded him of his unquestionable right to the throne of France, which had descended to him from his illustrious ancestor, Edward III. The scheme succeeded, the breast of Henry was fired with the prospect thus opened before him, and in his desire to accomjjUsh it, every thing of a domes- tic and humbler character was forgotten. The Archbishop's motives were politic ; but, in every respect, degrading to humanity ; but in his blind desire to save the apostate church, he was rousing the vice-gerent of heaven, to accomplish its mighty purposes against the whole kingdom of France. The Kings motives were equally corrupt, but of a different character to those of the Prelate ; they were not so degrading, yet were they equally at variance with truth and rectitude. Such was the origin of the celebrated French war under Henry V! In pursuing its details, we 168 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 169 hastens the war. SECTION shall find nothing gained by England, except M- martial glory, inasmuch as all the territory ac- ^^^^^^^^ quired, was so soon to be relinquished, and the English themselves to be expelled from the soil of France. But we shall perceive the fearful chastisement to which that unhappy country was exposed, already torn to pieces with internal dis- sentions, and daily massacres ; and he who discerns not the inflicting hand, must be inaccessible to the demonstrative evidence of circumstances. French folly As the War itsclf was founded in injustice, so it was carried on, under its influence. An em- bassy was sent to France, and instructed to make such exorbitant demands as it was well known, could not be admitted. A second embassy was dispatched with a similar message ; but it is diffi- cult to say, where these negociations might have ended, had they been left to their own course. But rash impertinence set the whole into a flame. The Dauphin of France, in ridicule of the prepos- terous demands of the ambassadors, sent their master, a present of a ton of tennis balls, intimat- ing, that such playthings were better suited to his habits, than the laborious exercise of ai-ms. This was enough. Immediate preparations were made for war, which the French endeavoured by nego- tiation to avert ; but which, by their insolence and levity, they only hastened and aggravated. The place of rendezvous for the English army was Southampton, but on the last day of July, I tl when all was ready for embarkation, a dangerous SECTION conspiracy was discovered in the English army. !'• The persons engaged in this nefarious transaction, ^^^-v'-x^ were Richard Earl of Cambridge, Henry Scroop lord treasurer, and Sir Thomas Grey a privy counsellor, they had agreed with the French ambassadors for the sake of " all corrupting gold," to attempt the crown and life of their Prince. The bribe was said to be a million of gold. Their design was defeated and turned to their own ruin ; but the attempt itself, covers all parties with the deepest infamy. At length, on the thirteenth of July, the arma- Henry sails ment reached the coast of France, near Harfleur, ^^^' ^*"^"*^^- where like William of Normandy, leaping on shore, the King bowed the knee in token of sub- mission to the throne of Heaven ; and sought his favour, in aid of the enterprize, which he had pre- vailed upon himself to believe, legitimate. I men- tion this circumstance, not as a proof of his piety, — for I can see no justice in the undertaking, but as another testimony, that all great minds, and especially those, who have been signal instruments in carrying on human affairs, from the times of Cyrus and Alexander, have manifested this pecu- liar disposition of mind. Harfleur was the first point of attack, and was His ceiebrat- taken after great waste of human life, and coloni- ^ '^^ ^^ zed from England. The season being now far advanced, the King prepares to conduct his army 170 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY It SECTION into winter quarters. Calais was the point to II- which he intended to go; and lest it should seem beneath the dignity of a conqueror to go by sea, which would have been perfectly safe, he determined to brave all hazards, and to make his way by land ; little thinking, that he was about to conduct one of the most perilous enterprizes ever undertaken — not excepting the retreat of the ten thousand — to achieve one of the greatest of victories, and to bring on the French nation the most disastrous calamities. His little band con- sisting of about fifteen thousand men, no sooner moved from Harfleur, than they found themselves in the midst of almost insupportable difficulties. The enemy had cut down the bridges, blocked up the roads, rendered the fords impassable, by driv- ing down sharpened stakes, removed all provision from the line of their march, rendered every step of advance desperate, by w^ell concealed ambus- cades ; and harrassed the rear with incessant skir- mishes. In short, by the vigilance and activity of the French, Henry and his whole army were reduced to the greatest straits; and were under the necessity of feeding on the nuts and roots, afforded them by the woods and fields. But nothing daunted, Henry had arrived at Virron, with the design of passing the Somme, at Blanch- taque ; but finding it too strongly fortified, he marched by Vormes and pitched his camp at Bei- leu, intending to cross the river at Port de Remi ; I ^ OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 171 but this pass being, also, too well secured, he con- SECTION ducted his march along the banks of the river H* Hargest. The French army under the command of Albert, constable of France, followed his move- ments along the opposite bank. Henry still in- tending to pass the Somme, resolved to attempt it at its very mouth, and passing by Amiens, Bowes, and Corbue, he ascertained by his spies, the possibility of accomplishing the passage at Saint Quintin's. He did accomplish it, but with his little army so overcome with fatigue, sickness and famine, that his men were more fitted to enjoy the comforts and asylum of a hospital, than the labours of warfare. — But after the passage of the Somme they w^ere far from finding rest. They w^ere constantly harrassed by the enemy. — Their days were spent in unheard-of toil — their nights in watchfulness. Their lodgings were cold and wet — their provisions scanty and miserable. Such indeed w'ere their privations and dangers, that their high-spirited leader was ready to have bar- gained for their safety, by the restitution of Har- fleur. And it may be here remarked — ^let the re- mark have what weight it may — that his inflexible piety was the means of saving his army. He strictly forbad the pillaging of churches and reli- gious houses ; and for a breach of this order, one of his soldiers was put to death. The country people were so affected with this forbearance, that in spite of the strictest commands to the contrary, His regard for religion. 172 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Passing ob scrvation on Hume. SECTION they shared their scanty morsel with Henry's sol- diers ! By this means he was enabled to pursue his way through every difficulty ; till at length, about October, he came in view of the French army drawn up in order of battle, and in such a position, that it was impossible for him to avoid an engagement. Like the worthy descendant of Edward III. he prepared for the event. He threw himself from his horse, and commanding all his men to imitate his example, the whole army kneeling on the earth, with uplifted hands and eyes, implored the divine assistance. It is difficult to say upon what grounds, the historian Hume has omitted such particulars as these. His, is a melancholy page: a cold and cheerless field of inquiry : a wilderness of human error, without those oases of verdure which ele- vate our hopes, and solace our desponding hearts. Surely, the philosopher could not think it degrad- ing, to offer worship to the Omnipotent. If he did, such philosophy, by the consent of all, should for ever, be banished from the society of intelligent beings. If there be any thing noble, any thing elevated in the human mind, it must be inspired in the moments of its approach to the Supreme Being; or, if there be any privilege in man's superiority, it must mainly consist, in his ability to adore the hand by which he exists, and by whose power he has been distinguished. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 173 Henry, as we have seen, was now in sight of SECTION the French army, one hundred and forty thousand ^^- Ch AP H. strong, whilst his owti troops did not muster more ^^x^^r^ than ten thousand effective men. To all human battle of , Agincourt. calculation, his destruction was mevitable ; and the confidence of the French was so great, that they could not refrain from the most insolent manifestations of it. They repeatedly sent taunt- ing messages to Henry, one of which was, to ask the sum which he intended to propose for his ransom. But he was silent, treated their ambas- sadors with the greatest generosity, sent them back with magnificent presents, and returned such answers, as discovered the unruffled composure of his breast. The day fixed for the battle was now approach- ing ; and the manner in which the preceding night was spent, by the two armies, will sufficiently discover the mind and temper of each. The French were occupied in all kinds of rejoicing and excess. The English were engaged in watching, in prayer, and in mutual exhortations to valour. The King was employed with his officers in ar- ranging the order of battle ; and the morning dawn beheld every man at his post, awaiting in breathless silence, the issue of the. important day. The point of approach to the French army was chosen between two woods, which served to pro- tect their flanks. The archers, defended by a moveable barrier of sharpened stakes six feet long, 174 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 175 Chap. II. SECTION were disposed with great art, as wings to the ^^- main body. A company of bowmen of extraordi- nary Strength and agility, were posted in a low ground, as an ambuscade, and defended by a deep ditch filled with water. In the woods, which we have said covered the approach, were concealed a Strong body of horse, which were ordered to wait the most favourable opportunity, and attack the enemy when the battle became general. The van was commanded by the Duke of York, supported by the Lords Beaumont, Willoughby, and Stan- hope. The main body was led by Henry himself, in complete armour, his helm surmounted with a crown of gold, of dazzling brightness, and his shield was quartered with the arms of France and England. His horse, of high spirit, was richly caparisoned, and his trappings embroidered with the victorious emblems of the English monarchy ; whilst before him, was borne in gold and splendid colours, the standard of England, with innumer- able banners of every order. Thus arrayed, and whilst waiting the attack of the enemy, the im- mortal hero, thus addressed his ardent band. " You are now entering, " he said, '' the glori- .ous field of honour, which by your valour may become more renowned than even the fields of Cressy and Poictiers. For my part, England shall never be charged with my ransom, nor any Frenchman triumph over her King.— Death or Victory shall be my portion, as I expect it will i 1 i be yours. I am persuaded by your very appear- SECTION ance that, future ages will stand amazed to find ^^^ 1 J Chap. II. w^hat the lance, the battle-axe, the sword, and the bow can perform in the hands of such val- iant men. — But although these are the mighty weapons, by which we are to reap the harvest of this day — ^yet I rely upon Omnipotence for vic- tory ; and it is a remarkable coincidence in divine Providence, that our enemies have offered us battle on the very day, appointed in England, for the people to implore a blessing on our arms : so that in the moment of conflict, the whole English na- tion will be lifting up their hands and eyes to Heaven for our success." With such words he encouraged his soldiers to the desperate encounter which was so soon to follow. In the mean time, the French were advancing in three lines. The first was led by the Constable of France, the Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, and several others of the chief nobility. The se- cond line was commanded by the Duke de Berri, and the Earls Alencon and Nevers. The third, by the Duke of Brabant, and the Earls of Marie, Fauquenberge and Monsieur de Lormy. The right wing was led by Arthur Earl of Rechemont ; and the left, by Lewis de Bourbon ; whilst the whole army was crowded with the most illustrious names of France. The ardour of the English was at length so great as scarcely to be restrained, Henry however 176 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY. SECTION delayed, in hopes that the French would begin II' the charge. But when he saw them halt, and not wishing to damp the courage of his troops, he gave the word of advance with a loud voice. — '' Since our enemies have intercepted our way to Calais — let us make our way through their ranks in the name of the Glorious Trinity, and on the most propitious day of the year." He then alight- ed from his horse, to share the equal dangers of the day. The army now advanced, preceded by Sir Thomas Erpington, who gave the signal for the attack by throwing his truncheon into the air. The clouds were rent with the acclamations of the soldiers. The archers in the wings, advanced and began the fight, making dreadful execution with their yard-long arrows. Against these, a select body of French cavalry were ordered to advance ; but they were so dreadfully galled by the incessant showers of darts, that the attack became disor- dered. — One rank crowded upon another, and the confusion was greatly aggravated by the narrow- ness of the pass. Instead of a regular and well- compacted phalanx, the French horse exhibited an indescribable melee of men and horses. The van was impelled forward, by the mechanical force of the mass behind, and the archers retired within their moveable spikes, upon which the impaled horses of the French, offered a frightful barrier to their advancing cavalry. During the whole of this time, the two hundred bowmen in ambush. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 177 \ Chap. II. performed deeds of death upon the crowded ranks SECTION of their foes. The moment the French cavalry H. reached the spikes of the archers, was critical, and a black tempest of arrows overwhelmed them with destruction. Such as escaped the havoc at this point, in utter despair, fell back with such force and precipitation, that they disordered the main line of the first division which was advan- cing behind them. The archers, thus perceiving their ranks exposed, threw away their bows and with great courage, rushed forward with sword and battle-axe. The French stood their ground as well as their broken lines would permit, and sustained a dreadful carnage. The archers retired as if for a breathing time, and then, with redoubled vigour returning to the charge, the attack proved irresistible, and the enemy fled. Henry was now advancing at the head of his The English main body, to attack the second line of the French, •'''^''^"''^• which firmly awaited the charge. Henry acted the part of a General and a common soldier, and everywhere exposed himself to danger. He soon rendered himself conspicuous, and eighteen French noblemen combined to destroy him, or perish in the attempt. They made a furious attack upon his guard; and charged so near, that one of them with a battle-axe, struck him on the crest, — But their courage was exerted in vain : they were im- mediately repulsed, and paid for their bold enter- prize with the loss of their lives. In the defence N 178 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. H. rages. SECTION of the King s life the valiant David Gamm, the II. Welsh chieftain, greatly signalized himself, and was at length mortally wounded, together with two of his relatives. The loss of these brave men was the subject of great grief to the King ; and in the midst of the battle, whilst they lay ex- piring on the ground, he found time to confer on them the honor of knighthood, the only acknow- ledgment he could then bestow, of the regard he. The Battle entertained for their services. Still the battle rased, and the Duke of Gloucester was struck down with a battle axe : the King stood over the fallen body, defended him, and saved his life. But whilst he was thus engaged he received such a severe blow on the head, that it brought him on one knee, whilst two gentlemen, in armour similar to his own, were slain at his side. The English, encouraged by the example of their leader, pushed on with such fury, that at length they broke through the French battalions, whose horses pierced by the archers, had become ungovern- able. At this critical juncture, the English cav- alry which had been stationed in the woods, rushed on the rear of the disordered foe. This decided the conflict, and the French General, Alencon perceiving all was lost, and determining not to survive the fatal day, advanced into the thickest of the fight, calling for Henry, and crying out that he was Alencon. Nor long. The two leaders were now in sight of each other ; Alen9on i OF ENGLISH HISTORY. i 179 Chap. H. Death of the rushed forward, and with a furious blow of his SECTION battle axe, cut off part of the crown, which formed II. the crest of Henry's helmet. This ferocious attack so roused the spirit of the English lion, that his uplifted arm was nerved with redoubled might, flench Leader. and the falling axe laid his noble antagonist in the dust. Henry would fain have spared his life, but his enraged followers were deaf to his com- mands. By the foresight and intrepidity of the English, two armies had now been routed ; but there stood a third behind them still untouched, which might have joined an equal contest. But fear now per- formed as much as the sword, and without waiting for the attack, they fled with precipitation. The EngUsh were victorious, but surrounded with imminent dangers. They who fled, were more in number than the victors : they who were prison- ers, out-numbered their guards. The enemy also were seen rallying on an adjacent rising ground. Henry sent them a threatening and peremptory message, that if they did not disperse he would shew them no mercy. They were overawed and retired. But unfortunately for the French prison- ers, some of their troops which had fled at the first onset, cowardly attacked the English camp which was feebly guarded, pillaged the tents and baggage, and carried off the King's crown, to- gether with immense spoil. The noise and cla- mour of the assailants, in the rear — the approach \ 180 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 181 Chap. II. Kin SECTION of liig^t, and the vast number of the prisoners II. made it necessary, inasmuch as they were appre- hensive of a general attack, to issue orders for a massacre of the prisoners, whilst the English although fatigued and harrassed, bravely prepared for a renewed fight. But all was soon quiet. The plunderers having effected their purpose, retired. Piety of the This suddcu alarm was soon changed into joy, when they found themselves undisputed masters of such a field, and the King was so convinced of a superior cause that he returned solemn thanks to God, at the head of his army. He directed the hundred and fifteenth Psalm to be sung, and at the words " Not unto us Lord, not unto us," he commanded all his army to prostrate themselves on the ground, in token of their humility. After this, in presence of his nobility and the French Heralds, who had been sent to obtain leave to bury their dead — he declared that it was not his own, but an UNSEEN hand that had gained the victory ; and that the carnage they had that day seen, was intended as a divine infliction upon the French nation. The King then enquired the name of the nearest castle and being informed that it was Agin- court — then, he replied, '' let this field of fight, to all posterity be called the battle of Agincourt. " I have been the more minute in detailing the particulars of this famous battle, because it is so strongly marked, throughout, with the interference The King of an Almighty hand. The chief incidents are so SECTION miraculous, (it is difiicult to use any other word) H- f^ T T that it is unnecessary to recapitulate them. They must be abundantly manifest to the most superfi- cial reader. There was little in the result of the contest for the advantage of England, and the whole, no doubt, belongs to the history of France. The victory was not followed up ; and the King after remaining a short time at Calais, returned to England. The triumphant entry of Henry into London, was of the most imposing character. He was '■^^"'"' ^"^ ^ ^ ^ England. met by the Lord Mayor and Corporation and four hundred Citizens in robes — the streets, were hung with tapestry, on which were depicted the exploits of the Kings of England. He heard Psalms and Hymns every where sung, in praise of his victory. But with the same profound humility as before, he refused his own praise, and attributed all to God. From the same feeling he would not permit his dinted helmet and battered armour, to be carried before him in the procession, alleging, that it would be too vain an affectation of glory. At St. Paul's he alighted from his horse, and made a so- lemn thanksgiving-offering for his safe return; and in order that all his subjects might unite with him in this grateful exercise, he appointed a day, for a general thanksgiving throughout his dominions. Such was the awe impressed on the mind of the King, from the conviction, that in the whole of 182 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION this matter, he was acting as the signal instrument II. of heaven. Chap. 11. ^Yhcnce could this impression arise but from a supernatural source "? It will not be alleged that it could arise from a weak or distempered mind ; nor : can it be considered as a necessary concomitant of the superstition of the times. For previously, there was nothing of this kind manifest in his character. Nor was it the result of contact with persons of a religious or enthusiastic turn of mind. It was learnt in the camp and in the field. It was the result of an influence which amidst affliction, wonders and miracles he was obliged to own, and with which, he was willingly captiva- ted and overcome. Soon after the King s return, the Emperor Sig- ismund at the desire of all Europe, became me- diator between the tw^o contending powers. But w^hilst he was prosecuting his design at the court of London — the aggressions and treachery of the French, compelled him to give it up in disgust, and after entering into alliance with Henry, here- turned into Germany. The King now thought of nothing but war, and France was again destined to become the theatre of renewed slaughters, as it still continued to be, of factions and rebellions. In the mean time, a deadly contest was carrying on in the professed house of Peace — in the bosom of the Eoman Catholic Church — the legitimate descendants, forsooth, of those, whom St. Paul Negociation attempted. Schism of the Popes. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 183 I a Chap. H. designates as " the beloved of God, called to be SECTION Saints*." This furious contest was no other than li- the conflicting claims of three competitors for the triple crown, Benedict XIII. elected by the Span- iards, Gregory XII. by the French, and John IV. by the Italians. To x)ut an end to the animosities and bloodshed attending this struggle, a general council was appointed by the Princes of Europe, to be held at Constance. This assembly was per- haps the most splendid and numerous ever collect- ed together. There were present, the Emperor — the Pope — the Belgrave of the Rhine — three Patri- archs, twenty seven Cardinals — forty seven Arch- bishops — one hundred and fifty Bishops— Princes, Barons and Gentlemen, above thirty thousand. The English deputation made a prominent figure, and drew forth the admiration of all, for their learn- ing and splendour^. Mighty was the preparation, and it was but reasonable to suppose, that the re- sults of their deliberations would be in keeping with such pretensions. But alas ! this famous as- Power of the sembly was as far distant from the wisdom and ^^^^^^^ly. spirit of Christianity, as they were superior in splen- dor to the apostolic council of Jerusalem. The secular question (for such it was) was soon decided, by the elevation of Martin IV. to the Papal * Epist. Rom. i c. 2 V. f Bishops of London, Salisbury, Lichfield and Coventry, Bath and Wells, Norwich, Hereford, St. David's, accompanied by the Earl of Warwick % \ 184 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION chair. A decision of itself, destructive of the doc- ^^11- trine of infallibility. The circumstance of three v^^^i^^-O contending and contradicting Infallibles, is impos- ible ; and still more, if more can be admitted, when a fourth, who before had no pretensions to it, is elected to their exclusion. Weakness of From the decision of this question wherein the the Synod. asscmbly shewed its strength, they proceeded to dispose of others, wherein they discovered their weakness. The books of the immortal Wicliff were decreed to contain heretical doctrines ; and ordered to be burnt. John Huss and Jerome of Prague, men of eminent learning and piety, were committed to the flames of martyrdom, and to crown the united wisdom of the thirty thousand, Bridget, the holy maid, was canonized ! It is impos- sible, for the words of the historian were he to fill foKo after folio, to paint in more striking colours the character of that day. These facts embody the very image of the times, and fill the picture ■with striking contrasts of light and shade. But the darkness prevails. It is like one of Martin s midnight scenes— deep— gloomy and full of terri- fic objects ; but without that gratifying sublimity which always triumphs, in the delineations of nature. ^ If any thing can cure us of our prejudices, or diminish the obstinacy with which we cleave to our preconceived opinions, it must be, such exhi- bitions as those presented to us in the council of Uses to be made of such events. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 185 Constance ! No man can boast entire exemption SECTION from prepossessions. They are inspired by the ^^M- ^^ institutions of our country— by received customs, v^^^C^ by current opinions, and by parental authority. Every division of the globe, every country, every religious sect, every class of society, has prejudi- ces peculiar to itself. These prejudices have a tendency to contract the mind, blunt the feelings, and obscure the understanding. Every page of history corroborates this truth, and furnishes examples of its malignant effects. But the details of history have a tendency to remedy the influ- ence of this universal disorder. History extends our views and enlarges our ideas of men and things, extinguishes the pride of our own superi- ority, opens our minds to candour — induces a liberality of sentiment and a correctness of judg- ment, with which the spirit of intolerance and persecution is incompatible. But Christianity, which teaches on a sublimer Lord Cobham scale, and embraces in its system all that is grand ^^"^^^ "^'" in philosophy, and all that is splendid in morals ; which unites every principle and every sentiment in the bond of charity, was at this period, in England, enduring a similar outrage to that which we have been considering. Lord Cobham, who after his condemnation had escaped from the Tower, was at length retaken, and again brought before the blood-stained tribunal. Many fresh comi^laiuts were urged against him, particularly 186 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 187 Chap SECTION that of defacing the pictures in the mass book ! an "• indignity it was solemnly urged, against the Saints in Heaven! Our self-love would tempt us to hope, that such inconceivable blindness and intol- erance do not belong to the human family gener- ally, but are peculiarly the offspring of Popery. But alas ! they are indigenous in our nature. Po- pery was only a prolific soil for their nourishment and growth. The storm against Lord Cobham was cruel in the extreme ; and as it was the first noble blood shed in England, for entertaining sentiments in opposition to the Roman church, so was his death pre-eminent in cruelty. He was suspended in chains ; and in this manner burnt alive. Oh cursed lust of power I that would coerce The very thought; And to glut its impious appetite — Demand the blood of ma^. — In the mean time, Henry had embarked a second time for France, and landed at Harfleur, at the head of a valiant and well-provisioned army. He was here met by Cardinal des Ursins, who at- tempted to incline him towards peace. But the King replied to him in the following remarkable terms as recorded by Hume. " Do you not see said he, that God has led me hither, as by the hand-? France has no sovereign. I have just pretensions to that kingdom. Every thing here IS in the utmost confusion, no one thinks of resist- ing me. Can I have a more sensible proof, that Second expe dition into France. 1 Chap H. the Being who disposes of Empires has determin- SECTION ed to place the crown of France upon my head ! '' H* These words require no comment. The King proceeded at once to active warfare. Nothing could stay his progress, and throughout the Win- ter, he advanced from conquest to conquest. In order to proceed more rapidly with the subjugation of Normandy, he resolved upon the reduction of Rouen, its capital, a place of extraordinary strength and the deposit of immense riches. It was a dreadful resolution, and by the obstinacy and resistance of the inhabitants, they brought upon themselves the most unheard of calamities. The King's intention was not to destroy, but to reduce the city, which he designed to accomplish by a strict blockade. This was so effectual that they were reduced to the greatest extremities — they fed on horses, and every kind of inferior animals, and even killed one another for the purpose of sustain- ing life : and it was not, till thirty thousand had perished by famine, that they consented to send commissioners to treat for peace. Henry at first stood on peremptory terms, but as all truly brave men, temper severity with mercy, the King com- miserating their sufferings accepted their submis- sion, and secured to them the full enjoyment of all their ancient privileges and immunities. The day after the capitulation, Henry entered ^^^^^ taken. Bouen in great pomp as its sovereign. He held his court there as Duke of Normandy, and regu- 188 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 189 Chap. II. SECTION lated the internal affairs of the kingdom. Nor did I^- he stay long, but hastened to pass the frontiers of France ; and though the power of that kingdom was roused against him, yet he quickly penetrated to Alberil and St. Valiere. The French court had now recourse to negociation, and Melun was appointed as the place of meeting between the Kings of France and England. On the day appointed, attended with splendid trains they met. But the splendour of the French pavilion was greatly increased by the presence of the Queen and her accomplished daughter, Catharine. Henry had before been captivated by the reported charms of Catharine ; and the Queen, who was deeply skill- ed in the arts of intrigue, presently saw how much his prepossessions were increased by the sight of those charms. She attempted by the sudden removal of the object to inflame his desire, in order to obtain less rigorous demands: but the King saw through her design ; and was more con- firmed in his resolution to stand firm. Through- out the whole of this conference and its interruption, the French were only endeavouring to create delay. They deceived: they perplexed every thing ; and whilst offering peace with one hand, they were preparing for war, with the other. The Dauphin and the Duke of Burgundy who had been engaged in deadly opposition, unite in firm alliance, and all parties resolve for a time to hush their common feuds, and to unite their strength 4 s; J in resisting the enemy of their country. The SECTION path they took was not for their honour. H. When Henry became acquainted with their de- ,^^^^i^^-^ sign and intentions, he was roused to great resent- France spoii- ment, and hastened to unsheath his sword. — ^a and con. Poictiers soon fell into his hands. This opened his way to Paris, which he took by surprise. The sword was every where awake, and busied in slaughter. The Duke of Clarence lay before Paris. The King himself was engaged in the Isle of France. The Duke of Gloucester w^as storming Saint Germaine. The Earls Marshall and Hunt- ingdon were in the county of Mayne ; and they were all, at the same time, victorious. The French nation was now in the most deplorable condition. Their capital taken: — their country threatened with destruction by a victorious enemy, and torn in pieces with internal dissensions, and irrecon- cilable hatreds. The reconciliation of the Dauphin and Burgundy Dukeof Bur- was wholly in appearance : but such as it was, °""*^y assassi. and brief as it w^as, it laid the foundation for the overthrow of France ! The Dauphin viewed Bur- gundy as the real enemy of France, and considered his death, as the only event that could heal the disorders of his country. The impious thought once admitted, became predominant ; and led to its accomplishment. — The Duke of Burgundy was assassinated, when invited to meet the Dauphin, under the pretence of a conference. i 190 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 191 Treaty (5nt«r- ed into with flenry. I In his untimely end, we are called to observe the judicial appointment of heaven. By his hand the Duke of Orleans, twelve years before, had been assassinated in the streets of Paris, which had given rise to a long series of evils. He himself now met with a retributory fate, which in like manner gave birth to increased calamities. The animosity of faction and the miseries of France, were increased in a ten-fold degree. The Queen herself resented the murder ; and excited the young Duke to revenge his Father's death ; and by every art, endeavoured to accomplish the ruin of her own son, the Dauphin. But this was not to happen. That son was the Alfred of France, and destined, when all its hopes were lost, to be her restorer. Through the influence of the Queen and the resentment of the Duke of Burgundy, a treaty was entered into with Henry, now advanced into the very l)owels of France. The conditions were more ample and honourable than he contemplated. But they were dictated by unnatural affection, am- l)ition and revenge ! The Dauphin was to be ex- cluded from the throne of his ancestors — the Queen's daughter was to be united in marriage with Henry— the Regency of France was to be conferred upon him ; and on the death of the French King, the crown itself was to descend to him. There could be no hesitation in accepting such proposals. The nuptials between Henry and Catharine were celebrated with extraordinary m 4 I M i^': pomp and magnificence. The French nobility SECTION swore allegiance, and, in every respect he was H- considered as the ruler of France. \^^r-^^^^^Ly But the Dauphin was yet in arms ; and it was siege of Meiun concluded that no time should be lost in his sub- jugation. One place after another was taken from him ; and Henry sat down before the important city of Melun. The most vigorous assaults were made upon the town to no purpose ; and the King at last ordered the walls to be undermined. The besieged, countermined. At one time a mine having been effected, the King himself entered first, with his drawn sword. On the side of the besieged, the foremost man was the Duke De Barbasan. These two met, and for some time sus- tained a furious contest — At length De Barbasan, disclosed his name, and Henry, announced his. The French Governor immediately retired, and ordered the barricades to be closed. Melun was afterwards taken, and pardon secured to all but the murderers of the Duke of Burgundy. Barba- san, as it is said, was saved, according to the laws of chivalry, by pleading his single combat with Henry. But this is a digression. On his return to Paris, Henry, as Regent of j^^^^ France, assumed its proper authority in appointing ^es sovereign and displacing of officers — redressing grievances ^'''^*^* and reforming abuses. He even caused a new coin to be stamped, to declare the union of the 192 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 193 I * SECTION two countries, in the reverse of which, were 11. quartered the arms of France and England, ^^^^i^ui^ Henry having disposed of the affairs of France, The King's as wcll as circumstanccs permitted, and having Tous cTnl'cfat ^Ppointcd the Duke of Clarence his Lieutenant, home. he arrived in England with his Queen, who shortly after, was crowned. The King in person, visited a great part of the kingdom, and redressed every kind of abuse, with a judgment, for which he has been justly celebrated. He also gave the death- blow to the appointment to vacant, Bishopricks, by the Pope. It is of importance to observe this fact, because it tends to shew that this power which had been exercised by the Pope, was considered a usurpation. After thus vigorously ordering the internal affairs of his own country, he was again called to France. During his absence, the Scotch had sent assistance to the Dauphin, and in a des- perate engagement, the Duke of Clarence was slain by the Duke of Buchan. Henry on his arrival, carried every thing before him ; and during the siege of Meaux he had the satisfaction of hearing of the birth of his Son, whom he named Henry, and it is said, pronounced that he would become unfortunate. France com. After the Surrender of Meaux nothino- could pietciy subju. ^^p^^gg j^jj^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ inspired by his might, that deputies were sent to him from various places, offering to capitulate within a cer- tain time, if not previously relieved. But there «. was none to relieve, and the Dauphin was reduced SECTION to the greatest extremities. In the midst of his successes he was joined by his Queen, whom he attended to Paris, where they were entertained with the greatest pomp ; and where Henry exercised the sovereign power in the fullest and most unequivocal manner. It was now the crisis of this great enterprize. The French murmured, but were overawed : and at length, from the justice and impartiality of his acts, their jealousies were turned into affection. He was hailed, not as the conqueror, but the father and benefactor of France, in which acknow- ledgment, they tacitly admitted the judgments of God to be just and salutary. From the seat of empire, with great strength and unusual preparation, Henry went out against ness and death. the Dauphin, determined, at once, to strike a de- cisive blow. But the blow was averted. The great ruler of events, who had intended to chastise and humble France, having now accom- plished His purposes, turned aside the fatal stroke. He again restores to France, her own Prince, whom he had shielded from harm ; and appoints to the distracted country its regular order of gov- ernment. On the eve of his march, Henry was seized with a fistula, which under the unskilful management of his Physicians soon proved fatal In vain he attempted to proceed with his army. His strength entirely failed him. He could only o Henry's ill- I 194 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. II. SECTION issue his commands ; and expired on the thirty first ^^ of August, leaving his elder brother, the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France, and his younger bro- ther, the Duke of Gloucester, Eegent of England. This event, which v^as the first of a series of cala- mities to England, affords a signal example of the instability of all human greatness; and displays the power of an unseen hand, which can curb the spirit of princes, with as much ease, as the feeble- ness of babes and sucklings. Both are alike in his hand ; and Henry whom he had raised up, and adorned with every accomplishment of body and mind, is laid aside in a moment. The goodly fabric is despoiled of its glories, and crumbled into dust. We still admire the ruins : for this magnifi- cent Prince, with scarce a stain upon his character after he ascended the throne, save what the neces- sity of things imposed upon him, was a noble monument of the power of the Divine Architect. Notwithstanding, during his reign, the social system advanced but little. Indeed, its tardy pro- gress through centuries of time, is, in no small degree, confounding. We can perceive by the historic record that it was advancing, but it was by slow and almost imperceptible degrees. The history of all Nations and all times, furnishes us with a like fact in the conduct of human affairs. But a fact so extraordinary, must be supposed to involve some principle, essential to the human character under its present condition. For it is Reflections suggested by the History. m.^ f 1 y ■■1 ' III Bm'' ' 1 ' mi HUI 'f ■ 1 OF ENGLISH Hli>TOaV. 195 f Chap, If. evident that the Author of our being, if he pleased, SECTION could in a short time, advance society to its highest II. elevation of improvement and intellectual attain- ment. It cannot arise in Him, from want of bene- volence to dictate such a course, or a defect of wisdom to conduct it.— We may, therefore pre- sume, that the tardy progress of society is best adapted to the nature of man. We shall find the truth registered in the volume of nature. Those things which are for the enriching of man, and for enabling him to build up and adorn his civil institutions, are precious, and difficult of attain- ment. When nations begin, de novo, they have nothing ])ut their physical powers to rely upon. With great labour and toil, cities and the monu- ments of society, arise. Labour accumulates pro- perty—Property begets the arts and elegancies of life. — Such an advance of society gives ])irth to leisure ; and o^^^mZ/rf? leisure, promotes intellectual improvement. Doubtless, the great Architect of the worid could have altered this course of things, by placing the materials of advancement, more easily, within the reach of man. Had this been done, in all proba])ility, the system of society would not have existed at all ! Man is naturally indolent. —It is the disease of his nature. It is a matter of fact, that in those uncivilized countries, where the means of living are abundant, the tribes who inhabit them, are most indolent, and most degraded. But even should mankind with the materials at \ 196 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 197 SECTION hand, have aspired to society, what would have ^^- been the result ? — Unoceupation and leisure. A Chap. [I. r i ' state oi things utterly inconsistent with the nature of man, and the economy of the Divine Govern- ment. Labour is the great check to vicious indul- gence ; and man is made to labour, against his will. Let us review this astonishing fact as con- nected with the history of our species, and compare it with the original denouncement on our first pa- rents — " In the sweat of thy brow thou shalt eat thy bread, " — and we shall, at once, be convinced that it is the law of our existence ; and in obedi- ence to which, we shall find our greatest happiness. This slow and progressive improvement, seems also to be best adapted to the genius of man. His moral powers are incapable of sustaining sudden and violent changes. Look at the history of indi- viduals : sudden prosperity elevates — adversity depresses. It is the same with nations. Look at the effect of sudden successes, or sudden revolu- tions—A nation is intoxicated with joy or phren- zied with madness. To take an example from our ow^n times. — Forty years have now elapsed since the French Revolution, and tranquillity has not yet been restored to that country. During this period, the happiness of millions of Frenchmen has been destroyed ; and indeed, the civil happi- ness of the whole nation. No doubt the hurricane of the Revolution w^as necessary for the purgation of France, I only adduce the event to shew, that. ). \ ■« D'l > V sudden and violent changes are, immediately, des- SECTION tructive to human happiness, and that cahn and W* gradual advancement is best adapted, and indeed only adapted to our present state, — so that a nation cannot, at once, mount to the height of eminence, and any precocity of this kind, may be presumed to be short lived and unstable. In cases of colonization, where the colonists have carried with them, the experience and civili- zation of a more advanced state, their progress may be facilitated ; but to be safe and enduring, it must be gradual. — Too rapid an advance will Ije likely to end in extravagance of one kind or other, and to hasten a revolution. Perhaps, America w^ill ])e adduced to shew the futility of these observations. But in vain. We are aware of the rapid and unprecedented rise of that country, and can have no doubt, l)ut it is in- tended to become a mighty Empire. But it must be subject to the laws w4iich have governed all nations and all times. It began its progress under peculiar advantages : It had been fostered by this country with great care, and strengthened by the accession of some of her best citizens. At the Era of her independence, she had acquired consi- derable solidity, and a variety of circumstances at that period, precipitated her career. The tide of her prosperity has not ceased to flow, and she has afforded the fact of a nation, doubling its popula- tion and property in thirty years. But v»hat does LS. 198 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. H. , I SECTION all this shew ^ It shews that a country posses- H. sing prodigious natural advantages, and colonizing from highly civilized states, has in a short time made unexampled acquisitions of people and property ; and that unceasing activity and indus- try have heen followed hy their natural results. But will it shew that, that Nation has gained equal solidity in Government, refinement in social intercourse, or unity of feeling in the community ^ These queries will be sufficiently answered in the extract* given ]ielov»% from an important work lately given to the public. We have no design to decry America. We de»ire nothing so much as the improvement of our race. But we are search- ing for great truths ; and the history of America and her present state, will be a grand evidence to shew, that slow and gradual advances in improve- ment are best adapted to the genius of man, and *' Perhaps, on iniparlial inquiry, it may appear that a country is best governed when the principal authority is vested in a permanent senate. But there seems little probability that such a body could be established here. Let it be proposed by the best men among us, and it would be considered as a plan of aggrandizing themselves. Experience alone can incline the people to such an institution. That a man should be born a legislator, is now, among unfledged witlings, the frequent sub- ject of ridicule. But experience, that wrinkled matron, whom genius contemns, and youth abhors ; experience, the mother of wisdom, will tell us, that men destined from the cradle to act an important part, will not in general, be so unfit as those who are objects of popular choice. When a general abuse of the right of election shall have robbed our government of respect, and its imbecility have involved it in difficulties, the people will feel what a friend once said, ' that they wavit somethin|V OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 199 Chap. H. essential, indeed, to the principles of his Being, SECTION and that where this course is deviated from, it will "• be attended with danger and peril. It is impos- sible at this period of the world's existence, to suppose that new principles are to be discovered in the moral powers of man. The same springs of action which have governed him from the begin- ning must continue to tlo so. — i .:" I '4 i ; i SECTION II. CHAPTER III. HENRY VI. DELIVERANCE OF FRANCE THE SCENE OF THE DIVINE JUDGMENTS CHANGED TO ENGLAND. lip Ml? gency. A. D. 1422. I i SFCTION ^^ ^^^ death of Henry V. the principal actor II, was removed from this scene of the drama ; but Chap. III. there were left behind him ardent spirits, fully En-iish Re- ^^^^^^ ^0 the great task he had imposed upon them. He had appointed as v;e have seen his elder brother, the Duke of Bedford, regent of France — a man of consummate ability and romantic valour. His younger brother, Humphrey Duke of Glou- cester was Regent of England; and the education of his infant son he had committed to Thomas Duke of Exeter and Beaufort, Bishop of Winches- ter. These men Avere all admira])lv fitted for their several appointments, and entered on the discharge of their respective duties, with the utmost devotion. Every thing prospered in their hands; and the affairs of England both at home I OF ENGLISH IIISTOUY. 201 and abroad were in the most flourishing condition. SECTION But it was the deceitful calm which precedes the II- Chap. MI. storm. We have already observed that the affairs of France were tending towards a beneficial change ; and in reviewing its course, we shall not fail to discover the hand by which it was conducted. Charles the VII. of France did not survive Henry more than a few days ; and his son the Dauphin, like another Alfred, was hunted from one place to another ; but his spirit and courage was invincible. The Eegent of France, in strict alliance with the Duke of Burgundy, was victorious wherever he turned his arms ; and, at the battle of Verneville achieved a second Agincourt. — The first thing that seemed to shake this pros- perous state of affairs in France, was a private quarrel between the Duke of Gloucester, Regent of England and the Duke of Burgundy ; which, although it was composed through the influence of the Duke of Bedford, yet, as we shall see, drew after it important consequences. Another event occurred, which although it seemed to arise from a private quarter, was the means of imparting vigour, to the rising destinies of France. This was a contention in England between the Protector and the Bishop of Win- chester, tutor to the King. It is unnecessary to enter into the particulars of this quarrel, the result of jealousy aud ambition. To settle the 202 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 203 Chap. III. I The aflkirs feu to a crisis. SECTION difference, the Regent of France was obliged to li' leave the government of this kingdom, which, at that time, from the defection of the Duke of Bur- gundy and the Earl of Rechemont, more than ever reqiiired his presence. Whilst the Duke of Bedford was in England, one of the King's tutors, the Earl of Exeter was removed by death — a man of great wisdom and abiUties. In his place was appointed Beauchamp Earl of Warwick, who had been left as Lieutenant in France during the Regent's absence, and had rendered singular service to the English cause. The calamities of France were now hastening of France has. to a crfsis. 1 hc Dukc of Bedford having estab- lished matters in England, returned to France, accompanied by the Bishop of Winchester, who on his arrival in that country, received the habit and dignity of cardinal. On his return home, armed with the authority of a Legantine Bull, he levied great exactions upon the clergy, by which he enriched himself beyond precedent. But to return. The Earl of Warwick on his appointment in England, was succeeded in France by the Earl of Salisbury — a man second to none, both in the council and the field. In order to strike a deci- sive blow, he is sent to the siege of Orleans — a place almost impregnable, well garrisoned and well provisioned. The siege of the place was con- ducted in regular form, for sixty days, and its Siege of Orleans. I i i I \ i affairs had become desperate. The Earl to com- SECTION plete the triumph, had resolved upon a general I^« attack; and was making observations for that purpose, at a small grated window, which overlook- ed the city, when to speak after the manner of men, an accident put an eijd to his life and his intentions. A hoi^ at the moment, was levelling a cannon, the ball from which, struck the casement, and by the splinters it occasioned, he was mortally wounded. The assault, in consequence, did not take place, which in all probability would have succeeded, and proved fatal to the affairs of the Dauphin. The fate of France seems to have been suspended upon this event ; apparently as casual, as the death of the King of Israel, who fell by an arrow, which it is said, was drawn at a venture. But another event arose which also assisted. The besieged were reduced to such extremities, that they declared themselves willing to surrender to the Duke of Burgundy. This offer of course, could not be accepted by the Duke of Bedford — but his refusal was secretly resented by the Duke of Burgundy. The siege still continued, when another circumstance arose which had a manifest influence on the whole war, Orleans was unexpectedly relieved through the influence of a rustic maid ; and the Duke of Alen- <^'^eans con with a chosen body of troops, forced his way into the town. The maid of Orleans or Joan of Arc, as she is sometimes called, was, nodoubt^ in- The MaiJ of 204 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. IH. SECTION structed l)y some superior spirit, probably the If- Duke of Alencon himself, in the part she was to act. The woman herself was of a romantic turn of mind, and was wrought up to the highest pitch of enthusiasm ; and influenced w^ith a vehement desire of avenging the wrongs of her country. — Her first success gave additional inspiration to her mind. She assumed a divine mission : and on this assumption, in language as if divinely inspired, she encouraged her countrymen, and denounced their enemies. The French universally accredited her mission, and their leaders made the best ad- vantage of the enthusiasm which was created by it. She was clothed in complete armour — mounted upon a noble steed — and to complete the effect — she received a consecrated banner from the hands of the Pope himself. The dying hopes of the French were inspired with new vigour. The En- glish affected to despise the pretended mission. — But it had a secret influence and created many a superstitious fear. Her mission The sicgc of Orlcans was raised, not, I dare prospers. g,^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ drcad of the prowess of the sacred maid, but from the circumstance of the succours introduced by Alencon. The French attributed the withdrawing of the English to her influence, and a monument to her memory was erected by the grateful citizens. Not a moment of time w^as to be lost, and the brave Alencon with his heroic prophetess, issued forth to battle and conquest.— 4 OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 235 The Maid of The tide of their good fortune induced many to SECTION join their standard, and amongst these, the Con- 1I» stable of France. On a sudden, they attacked the v^^^-v^^ English forces under Lord Talbot, the most cele- brated Captain of the age, and after a long contest TheDauiiiin vanquished them, and took their noble leader cap- crowned, tive. This was too striking an advantage to be neglected, and was improved by the coronation of the Dauphin at llheims. The Regent now thought it w^as high time for himself to appear in person. Accordingly, he led his army out of Paris ; and by valour and prudence soon checked the prosperous current of their af- fairs. Their cause was further depressed by the death of the maid of Orleans, who was taken pris- ,, , , , ' 1 Orleans taken. oner, and shortly after burnt alive at Rouen. It is impossible not to reprobate such a merciless act. — Oh ! thou just and benevolent Being, who rulest over the affairs of men, how abhorrent must such conduct be to thy perfections ! The barbarous deed was in keeping with the ignorance of the age. — The unhappy victim was tried by the Bishop of Beauvois, in whose diocese she had been taken prisoner ; and condemned for vicious practices in conjunction with her pretended mission. The Duke of Bedford and his council gave their con- sent on political grounds, inasmuch as her pres- ence inspired the French with enthusiasm : But we will not dwell upon it. i ■> 206 SECTION 11. Chap. III. The Duke of Bcdfonl gives ortcnce. THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY The Duke of Bedford, not to be behind the French, had the young King of England conducted to Paris ; and there solemnly crowned King of France. The English King was entertained with the greatest demonstrations of loyalty and affec- tion ; and through the influence of Pope Eugenius a truce was concluded between the contending parties for six years. Shortly after this treaty the young King returned home. Scarcely had he reached the shores of his own country, when a step was taken by the Duke of Bedford which served to hasten the issue of the pending struggle. On his way to Calais in order to quell a certain insurrection, he found time for other matters, and on his arrival at Turwin, he married the daughter of Peter of Luxembourg Earl of St. Paul — an alliance oflfensive to the Duke of Burgundy, and which served still further to detach him from the English interest. Meanwhile the calamities of France were greater than can be described. Let the reader conceive to himself, a country without the protection of law — over-run with armies or, rather predatory bands of soldiers — exposed to pillage, robbery — burning and mas- sacre with all their attendant private evils— let him paint every circumstance that can aggravate these evils ; and then, his imagination will not furnish him with a picture equal in calamity, to the original. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 207 At length by the intervention of the heads of SECTION Christendom, a negociation was set on foot, and H. Arras appointed as the place of Rendezvous. It ^"*'*' "^' is said to have been one of the most splendid assemblies the age had seen ; but their delibera- tions had proved ineffectual, had it not been for the defection of the Duke of Burgundy from the English alliance. The Dauphin had long seen that the Duke of Burgundy must be won, and he determined if possible to gain him, whilst he him- self from a varietv of causes, which we have en- deavoured to trace, was now ready to break with his English friends. Accordingly, the Dauphin sent him a Carte blanche, desiring him to prescribe his own conditions, which he did, both largely and unreasonablv. As the accession of the Duke of Burgundy to the English alliance, by which the French power was divided, had been the means, in a great mea- sure, of English superiority — so his defection, by which that powder was again united, became the overthrow of English domination. 'Ihe energies of France revived and the love of their country, at length overpowered the lust of private revenge. The Duke of Bedford was the only bulwark of peath of the the English cause, the only individual able to , . " •' ^ ford. stem the torrent of success, which now set in upon the affairs of the Dauphin. But he was not per- mitted to act. His sword had now been un- sheathed for the last time, and was destined to re- The French nnitf. Duke of Bed- i I -1* J I I' .4 1 208 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY i ; SECTION pose Avith him in the grave. He died soon after ^^' the Duke of Burgundy's defection, and it is as- Chap. hi. Ill serted, that the anxiety and vexation of the ciisis, hastened the event. He was the most accom- phshed and magnificent Prince of his age. His prudence, courage, and generosity were unequalled, and he left such a reputation ])ehind, that when certain parasites of Louis the eleventh advised that ]\Ionarch to demolish his magnificent tomb at Ilouen, they received the following answer and rebuke from their Sovereign. " What honor can it be to us or you, to deface this monument ; and to disturb the bones of him, w^ho w^hen living, neither my father nor your progenitors, with all their power, were able to resist? Who by his strength, policy, and conduct expelled them out of the kingdom of France and the dukedom of Nor- mandy? As for this tomb, I do not think it worthy of his honor and his deeds." After the death of the Regent there was some difficulty and delay in choosing a successor. At length the most improper choice was made in the person of the * Earl of Cambridge, Duke of York, — not only on account of his latent title to the crown of England, but because he was the avow- ed enemy of the Duke of Somerset, who was then in the government of Normandy. Nothing could have been more infatuated than such a step. * Great grandson of Edward III. by his fifth Son. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 209 Could the Protector, who was truly alive to the SECTION interests of his country, have seen the devastations II. and bloodshed which would accrue from the ambi- ^"*'*- "^• lion of this man— Could the King have foreseen the evils which impended over himself and his family from this source ; or, lastly, could the Bi- shop of Winchester have had a glimpse into his own future history— the Duke of York would have been the last man in the kingdom to have been promoted : but blind to their own real interests, and guided by private feelings, they took a step, contrary to the remonstrances of the Duke of So- merset, which involved them in utter ruin ; but which was big with important consequences, and rendered subservient to great designs. Before the Duke of York could reach his gov- ernment, Paris was lost ; and all attempts to re- take it, were ineffectual. Rouen was now the head-quarters of the English in the North, and Bourdeaux in the South. Nothing was achieved by the new Regent, owing in a great measure, to the disunion that existed in the English councils, both at home and abroad. He was shortly after recalled, and was succeeded by the Earl of War- wick, the whole of whose Regency was a time of perpetual wars and bloodshed, equally injurious to both parties ; and, in the midst of his heroic deeds, this great chieftain was removed by death. Duke of York The Duke of York, who was busily employed '^^^"^ ''n^«» in laying the deep foundations of his future ambi- p^'ce.'^ p 210 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY V < SECTION tion, had sufficient influence at court, to be ap- H- pointed a second time, Regent of France. He went with a determination to vindicate his tar- nished honour. He had many a sharp encounter with Charles, in which he was generally superior. At length, Charles goaded by despair, and the taunts of his subjects, determined to recover his lost ground. He beseiged Pontheirs, near Paris, with great fury, and after much slaughter on both sides, took it by storm, being himself the first man to enter the breach. The fame of this suc- cessful exploit served to re-establish his reputation and to promote his good fortune. In the mean time, another fatal mistake was made in the councils of England — a mistake foun- ded in injustice and fraught with evil to the coun- try at large. The young King had been affianced in the most solemn manner, to the Duke of Ar- magnac's daughter. The King of France was ex- ceedingly averse to this match, as it would have been the means of strengthening the English cause in Normandy and Gascony ; and accordingly made an attack upon the Duke, entered his do- minions and took his two daughters prisoners. The King of England instead, as in honor bound, of demanding his affianced bride, was induced through the influence of De la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, to accept in marriage the portionless daughter of Reyner, Duke of Anjou. The whole of this affair was conducted to its close in direct opposition to r ^ OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 211 Chap. III. Marararet of the advice and remonstrances of the Protector. SECTION And there was a party gathering about the King's H. person who were adverse to his plans, and deter- mined to thwart him. They succeeded in this instance too well— and the completion of their al- liance, was attended with fearful consequences to the kingdom at large, and to the house of Lancas- ter in particular. But the devices and intrigues of the court, opposing as they did, the uprightness and integrity of the Protector, were overruled as we shall see, by the Allwise disposer of things, to the punishment of the immediate actors, and to the future greatness and stability of the kingdom. The young Queen upon whom we are now to 11-, » »/v/ luiiisfarei o look as the principal agent in the great transac- A"jou, Queea. tions of this reign ; and who was the unconscious instrument of advancing the Divine purposes— is described as a woman of considerable personal at- tractions—eloquent in discourse— officious in coun- sel — covetous of praise— masculine in courage vigilant of her opportunities, daring in execution, and capricious in temper. She was no sooner seated in a share of the throne, than she became the leader of those, whose evil counsels were gaining ascendency about the person of the King, This was to be expected, not only from the natu- ral violence of her own disposition, but from the hatred she had conceived against the Protector, for his strenuous and unceasing opposition to her mar- riage. In his straight forward and manly policy r\ 212 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 213 SECTION h^ thought of nothing but the happiness and pros- II. perity of his country ; and in opposing the merce- ^^•J"* nary and ambitious views of De la Pole and Beaufort bishop of Winchester, he exposed him- self to the jealousy and hatred of a faction, who determined upon his ruin. The King who was now entering upon the functions of government, had been almost entirely under the controul of the Cardinal of Winchester. Ilis mind though imbued with learning, had been fettered by the haughty tyranny of his tutor — res- trained from every manly feeling, and made the prey of every superstition. Perhaps the prelatical power was never carried to such a height of worldly splendour, as in the person of this individual ; and his magnificent tomb in Winchester cathedral, will serve to convince us that it was indeed a reality. The young King himself displayed none of these ostentatious and ambitious feelings ; but we are led to fear, that his forbearance in these respects, was more, from the authority of his education, than the effect of that humility which is the essence of Christianity, and which does not destroy the spirit and energy of the character, but properly controls and forcibly directs it, into its proper channel. Intrigues a^tt 'pj^g Dukc of York, rccklcss of danger, was bent thrSDuke of on removing every obstacle that stood in the way York. of his ambition. But he was deep and designing — never hastening his purposes, but at the same f France umler time permitting no circumstance to escape him, SECTION that could in any way, assist his main project. ^^' He was ingenious in evil ; and an adept in laying those plots, which without awakening suspicion of his real intentions, paved the way for their accom- plishment. Amidst such contending powers, perilous in the extreme was the state of England ! But to return to our history. The Duke of York had now returned from France, and Somerset had succeeded him as ^^*' ^"''*' "^ , Somerset, lost. Kegent of that kingdom, where, under his rapaci- ous government every thing was lost. The scene now changes to England ; and the storm of mis- rule first discharged its fury on the lofty but uncor- rupted head of the Protector. Sacred to English- men be the memory of such a man, the firm and unflinching friend of his country ; who for his probity and honor, became the object of hatred to the wicked; and for his vigilance and wisdom, fell a victim to the designs of the ambitious. De la Pole, created Marquis of Suffolk, who Murder of had been the chief actor in the King's marriage, ^^^^ ^"''^ ''^ and who unfortunately leagued himself with the Queen, was raised through her influence, to the highest offices of trust ; and became, through the circumstances of his situation, the principal agent in the destruction of Gloucester. The first step of this tragedy was now resolved upon ; and on the first meeting of Parliament at St. Albans, the "j*^sy r' ■m^m^mm^l^mm ^ i.%n m.m'^'Mmm pawwiJi^ww 214 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. III. SECTION Protector was arrested as guilty of treason, and W- himself and his adherents cast into prison. But his enemies foreseeing the danger, and indeed impossibility, of accomplishing their designs by public trial ; and their machinations not admiting of the possibility of escape, they allowed him but short respite, and murdered him that night! His death became the immediate signal for tumult, sedition, and bloodshed. Every thing was thrown into confusion. The master power was gone ; and the whole machinery of the state was disordered. The virtuous fled from court, and the wicked tri- umphed. The Queen and her partizans had the entire sway; and the evil influence of their example produced the most lamentable eflects. The greatest discontent prevailed amongst the people, and they rose in many places, against their oppressors. Death of the The death of the Cardinal of Winchester who Bishop of Win. ^li^^ at this crisis, like that of Wolsey, might afford an equal monition to mankind, of the vanity of all sublunary good, when acquired by evil means, or employed for ambitious purposes. He is said, in his dying moments, to have exclaimed in language similar to the famous Cardinal of Canterbury : — '' Why should I die, who have so much wealth ? If the whole kingdom would secure my life, I am able by policy to get it, or by my wealth to buy it : Will not death be bribed ^ or, is money of no value ?"* * Echard. I OF ENGLISH HISTORY, 215 The death of the Protector had inspired the SECTION hopes of the Duke of York with new vigour, and H. he saw the path-way to the throne, if not free from difficulty and danger, yet as offering no in- superable barrier to his wishes. He now became the great mischief-maker of the times — perverting every good intention of the government — irritating every evil, and, embarrassing all things. He open- ed his designs to those of the nobility upon whom he could rely ; and every where, fanned the flame of discontent against the King s government. The crisis of affairs became appalling. The Parlia- ment was loud in its complaints, and the whole nation was demanding some sacrifice to appease its anger. The popular fury directed itself against Suffolk as the most prominent person, and laid upon him all the evils of mis-government, both at home and abroad. He was a man of great abili- ties, and had served forty years with great reputa- tion in France, during seventeen of which, he had never seen his country, and indeed was in every way worthy of the honor to which he had been advanced. But then, he had tarnished all his glory by his evil alliance with the Queen and her party, and was guilty of the blood of Glou- cester. He was however, for the present, snatched from the impeachments and resentment of Parliament ; and by the influence of the Queen, confined a prisoner in the Tower. But in a few months, falsely thinking that the storm had abated, -••BM^ \: li 216 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION he was restored to his place at the council board. n. But short lived are the immunities of crime. K^^^^^^^-xJ This bare-faced indignity to the public, roused a double vengeance ; and to save their favorite from the fate which awaited him, he was banished by the King for five years. But his destruction slumbered not; and the murderer of Gloucester is about to expiate his crime by a retributory punishment. The vessel in which he had em- barked, was captured by a man of war, fitted out by the Duke of Exeter, a circumstance which suf- ficiently shews the state of things at that period. The unhappy minister enjoyed a shorter respite than even that which had been allowed to the lamented Gloucester. His head was struck off on the gunwhale of the boat, and his body igno- miniously thrown upon the shore * * * '"jacet ingens lit ore truncus^ Avulsumqiie humeris caput, et sine nomine, corpus.'' The death of the Marquis of Suffolk was a severe blow to the Queen, the stability of whose counsels, much depended upon his abilities. — Things were now fast hastening to maturity. The Queen in plotting new schemes — the nobility in the infraction of law and decency — the people in their mutinous and rebellious acts, were all working their own chastisement — the cure of their licentiousness and the prosperity of England ! Insurrection A formidable insurrection was fomented by the ^^^^^i*"- artifices of the Duke of York, and put under the OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 217 Chap. HI. management of Jack Cade a man of great abili- SECTION ties, but infamous morals. In order to prepare H. the way for the grand object of the Duke's ambi- tion. Cade assumed the name of Mortimer, and pretended to be cousin to the Duke of York. The spirit of the insurrection spread far and wide ; and the Captain of Kent, as he styled himself, encamped at the head of a great multitude at Blackheath, After committing great enormities and levying great exactions on the people of London ; he was at length resisted by the exas- perated citizens, with uncommon bravery. A severe contest took place at London bridge, and many fell on both sides. But it was an effectual check to his progress : for this success being fol- lowed up by a proclamation of pardon, the rebels dispersed. In the mean time the Duke of York, who was then stationed as Lieutenant in Ireland, was nar- rowly watching the effect of his plot : and whilst the influence of it, was yet operating upon men's minds, and the discontent of the people still in- creasing, he hastened from his post, fully deter- mined, by every species of villainy, to make his way to the throne. He was now at the head of a formidable body of men ; and had already pro- cured the death of Adam Malleins, Bishop of Chichester and Lord Privy Seal, a man of great integrity, and consequently an obstacle in his way. But there was another individual still more formi- n 218 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION dable to him. — This was the Duke of Somerset, II- formerly Regent of France, who by his authority CiiAP. III. ^^^ counsel was the chief support of the King. — He saw that in removing the Protector he had achieved nothing, whilst Somerset lived. — His death was therefore determined upon. On his landing he made the greatest protestations of loy- alty, and intimated that he only came to redress grievances and to remove improper counsellors. — The news of his arrival, under such circumstances seemed to awaken even the spirit of the King, and he led an army towards Wales, to teach him more reverence and respect. On the King's approach, his partisans deserted him in great numbers, so that he found himself obliged to submit to the King's mercy. — That mercy was too great. By the most unheard of duplicity, and by the most solemn oaths of fidelity and loyalty, he lulled the fears of the King and procured a reconciliation. Having thus far succeeded, the wily Duke ad- vanced another step upon the clemency of the King, and demanded the impeachment of the Duke of Somerset, accusing him of avarice and peculation. The haughty spirit of this nobleman could not brook the indignity of such an accusa- tion ; and presenting himself face to face with his accuser, in the most eloquent and convincing man- ner, he shewed the treachery of the Duke of York and his treasonable intentions and asserted that if they wished to save the country from deluges of 'I [ I -» 1 fe OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 219 blood, the Duke of York must be sacrificed to the SECTION public weal. But cjreat as w^as the eloquence and II« . Chap. HI. foresight of Somerset, it was more than counter- v^^'v'-xl,' balanced by the treachery and falsehood of York. He exclaimed against the injustice of the charge, and alleged the impossibility of such being his in- tentions; and the more effectually to assert his innocence, and blind the eyes of the royal party, he solemnly attested his loyalty before the high altar of Saint Paul's, in the presence of the King and the principal nobility of the realm. It will be necessary to detain the reader, for a Affairs of short time to notice the state of France. The *''^"'^- English possessions in that kingdom had been gradually declining, and were now fast tending to utter extinction. A diversion was made in fa- four of the sinking cause in Gascony, under the famous Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrew^sbury, who for twenty-four years had been the terror of France, and by his impetuous valour had been the cause of infinite calamities to that country, and the principal support of the English. On this occa- sion his wonted success failed him. He perished in his eightieth year together with his son, whilst leading on his troops to an unequal charge ; and his, was the last noble blood of England shed in this long contest. The English troops were now recalled, unhappily to be engaged in still more dreadful and calamitous scenes in their own country, for which a long train of circumstances had been i 1 220 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 221 Chap. HI. I SECTION preparing the way. When the English soldiers n. were embarking, a French Captain seoffingly asked an English Knight — when they would again return to France "? To w^hom the latter made this reply : "when your sins are greater than ours," an answer that deserves consideration. But to return. Nothing could allay the evil spirit in the breast of the Duke of York, and it is difficult to say in what arts his vicious disposition most excelled — in dissimulation, treachery or perjury. With these spiritual weapons he sought the ob- jects of his ambition, and was allowed to triumph. The Duke of Somerset was yet in his way, and all his powers were exerted to accomplish his destruction. The Duke was a great man with his master — wise in counsel and brave in action ; but he was unpopular for his ill success in Normandy, which was lost under his Regency. The Duke of York worked secretly upon this popular dislike ; openly professing loyalty to the King, but covertly, by the most subtle artifices, undermining his author- ity. In this silent manner the plot advanced, till it was greatly accelerated by the addition of two other spirits, as wicked as himself, and admirably fitted to second his purposes. These two indivi- duals were the Earl of Salisbury and his son the Earl of Warwick. The former, famous for wis- dom in council, and the latter for his invincible courage in the field. V After sowing the seeds of disaffection through- SECTION out the kingdom, they proceeded openly to attack li- the Duke of Somerset, whom during a temporary v.J^^v'-vl/ indisposition of the Kinff, they arrested in the ^^'^'^^ ^^ ^ ^ O' ./ Somerset by Queen's lodgings, and committed to the Tower, tbe Faction. But on the King s recovery, the Duke was released and made Governor of Calais. Disappointed of their prey, they determined upon other measures ; and retired into Wales, for the purpose of raising troops and marching to London. On their ap- proach the King retired to St. Albans, and in accordance with the usual mildness of his disposi- tion, sent some of his Lords to negotiate with the Duke and his confederates. But the demands of the triumvirate were too unreasonable to be com- plied with ; and the impetuosity of the Earl of Warwick soon brought the matter to the appeal of the sword. In this dreadful conflict the King was wounded, ^^^^^^ ^f ^^ many of his nobles slain, and amongst them the Aibans. Duke of Somerset. After the battle, the King found himself in the hands of the Duke of York. But even at this moment, dissimulation triumphed over the other atrocious qualities of his mind, which proved to him the source of unnumbered evils, and paved the way for his own destruction. He pretended he had gained all he wished by the death of Somerset ; and with the greatest rever- ence conducted the King to London, where they spent the feast of Pentecost together. No doubt. 222 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION the Duke had politic reasons for his dissimulation. II* The King stood high with the people for his K^^^s^^^sL/ pi^ty and clemency ; and the Duke saw, it was impossible for him to strike the blow he wished, without the greatest risk. But he was intending to strike that blow in a more safe and effectual manner. Duke of York In a parliament which was now assembled, and ma epiotector. ^^]^j(>]^ }^g coutrivcd to rcudcr subservient to his wishes — ^he Avas declared Protector of the realm — the Earl of Salisbury, Lord Chancellor ; and the Earl of Warwick, governor of Calais. By this means the whole sovereign power was lodged in their hands, and every thing they could desire, seemed to be within their reach. But in the mo- ment of triumph they were least secure ; and their well-laid schemes are not to succeed. The Queen once more appears upon the stage ; and in conjunction with the young Duke of Som- erset and other Lords, who clearly saw the designs of the Duke, determined to make an effort to save the crown. A special council was held, in which the King's authority was asserted — the irregular- ity of the protectorship denounced, and the Earl of Salisbury commanded to deliver up the seals. But the Queen meditated deeper counsels ; and perceiving the Earl of Salisbury and his son the Earl of Warwick, to be the chief instruments of the evil, designed their ruin. In the King s name on their allegiance, she commanded their attend- I OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 223 ance. But whilst preparing to attend the sum- SECTION mons, they were secretly warned of their danger n. and fled. v^J^^^^ The King was highly displeased at these vio- lent proceedings ; and having no desire but the peace and prosperity of his subjects, he summoned a grand council to arbitrate between all parties, and, if possible, to bring to an end the vexations and disputes which harrassed the land. To shew the state of things at that time ; and the stronghold, which Feudalism still maintained in the country — I shall give a brief account of the nobles and their train who attended this council. The Duke of York, with a train of four hundred men, lived in his own house, called Baynard's Castle. The Earl of Salisbury, with five hundred men, occupied a place called the Harbour ; the Duke of Exeter and the Duke of Somerset, with eight hundred men, were lodged within Temple Bar; the Earl of Warwick, with six hundred men in uniform, at the Grey Friars ; and the Earl of Northumberland, with the Lords Egremont and Clifford, with fifteen hundred in Holbom. The King and Queen were entertained at the Bishop's Palace ; w^hilst Godfrey Boleyn, the Lord Mayor,* with six thousand men, daily rode round the city, for the purpose of preserving the peace ! The eyes of the whole nation were fixed with a grand earnest expectation on this council. Nor in vain. ^°"^"J^* ^"™' * Ancestor of Queen Ann Boleyn. A. D. 14.58. \ \ 1 I 224 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 225 SECTION After a few meetings — greatly aided by the pru- II* dent exhortations of the Archbishop, a final agree- ment was entered into, and a reconciliation esta- blished amongst all parties. A public rejoicing was instituted on the occasion ; and a magnificent procession to St. Paul's took place, in which the King was conducted in triumph, preceded by the nobles, two and two, one of either party ; and the Queen was conducted by the Duke of York ! Whether this reconciliation was as sincere as it appeared — or how long it might have retained its influence, we have no means of judging. An incident, as it seemed, re-kindled all the former animosity into still greater resentment. A retainer of the Earl of Warwick in a quarrel with a ser- vant of the King, wounded him, which so roused the indignation of his fellows, that a general attack was made on the followers of the Earl; many were slain, and the Earl himself returning from the council, with great difficulty escaped with his life. After conferring with his father and the Duke of York, he embarked for Calais as governor of that place, taking with him all the King's ships that were in readiness. It is not improbable that the jealousy and fear of the Queen, incited her to this violent breach of the reconciliation ; and that this quarrel was de- signedly brought on. It is certain, that after the flight of Warwick and the strong remonstrances made by Somerset and York, she prepared for the I most desperate measures. She was determined SECTION that a decisive blow should be struck; and for H- this end, she laid her plots in the most extensive manner. Nor had she superfluous time for con- sideration. The Earl of Salisbury set out from his castle at Middleham, with four thousand men ; and the impetuous Queen hurried off the Lord Audley to encounter him. They met at Black- heath. — The contest was obstinate, and ended in favour of the Earl of Salisbury. This victory en- abled him to join the Duke of York at Ludlow, which place became the rendezvous of the party. The strife was now become mortal, every pre- paration was made on both sides and a collision would soon have taken place, had it not been for Sir John Trollope's going over to the King, with a select body of troops. The fears of the confede- rates were alarmed ; and they broke up their camp and fled. The threatening storm seemed once more to be dissipated. The Parliament added their authority to the kingly power, and the three restless and mighty chiefs were outlawed. But Warwick in spite of the King's commands, obsti- nately retained possession of Calais ; and in Ire- land, the authority of the Duke of York was supreme. The harrassed kingdom was now beginning to feel the real evils of this deadly strife ; and was about to enter upon a long night of peril and calamity, in which not one of the noble families of Q 226 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION the land was to escape ; and in which thousands !!• of the common people were to suffer : so that, like Chap. HI. ... \^^f^-^/^\i^ the infliction on Egypt which came immediately/ from the hand of Jehovah, it may be said of this chastisement on England, which came from his hand, mediately/, that there was '* 7iot a house where there was not one dead'' — Exod. xii ch. 30 v. The triumviri still urging their unquiet and ambitious schemes, sent their emissaries through- out the kingdom. But Kent was made the chief scene of their attempts. They published the most artful and perfidious statements — full of loyalty to the King and love for their devoted country. So that, not only the common people ; but persons of rank and station were carried away by their dissimulation. Battle of The menaces of war were again heard ; and Northcmpton. f^e Earls of Warwick and Marche, the latter, son to the Duke of York, ventured forth to the contest against the Queen and Somerset. The two armies met at Northampton, where a bloody engagement ensued, in which the Earl of Warwick was victo- rious. Many of the bravest nobility were slain. The King was taken prisoner; but the Queen and the Duke of Somerset escaped to the north, and strenuously employed themselves in raising greater forces. With respect to the person of the King, the same dissimulation was practiced, and he was treated with the utmost respect by the victorious Lords. \ OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 227 S' ^ On hearing of this success, the Duke of York SECTION hastened from Ireland, and without delay, pro- H. ceeded to London. On entering the house of ^l^^i^^;^ Parliament he walked up the hall, and laid his DukeofVork hands upon the throne, as if to read the countenan- p^'"' '''" I'own. ces of the assembly. A deep silence ensued, until the Archbishop rising, courteously asked him, if he would not pay his respects to the King. The Duke did not expect such a reply ; and all the proud ambition of his soul, which had been so long smothered, burst forth with furious indigna- tion. He answered, that he knew no person in the kingdom to whom he owed allegiance ; but all owed it to him; and, then, openly asserted his claim to the crown. Accordingly, his title was produced before Parliament in writing, and was debated before that assembly. The right* of the Duke of York's title on the settlement female side could not be disputed. The attainder ""^'^^ *^''P"^^* * The substance of the Duke of York's claim to the crown of England, was as follows— King Edward III. had seven sons, Edward, Prince of Wales ; William of Hatfield ; Lionell, Duke of Clarence ; John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster ; Ed- ^Irf,^ ^"A^ «^ York ; Thomas, Duke of Gloucester ; and William of Windsor. Of these Edward the eldest died durincr his father's life, and left one son, King Richard II. whS died withont issue ; King Edward's second son William died without issue. Lionell, the third son had one daughter named l^hillippa, she married Edward Mortimer, Eari of Marche. Their issue was Roger, Eari of Marche, who had four children of whom only one survived, Anne, sole heires of the house, and married Richard, Eari of Cambridge, son of Edmund Duke of York, fifth son of Edward III. and had by that mar- riage, Richard, Duke of York the present claimant. So that c 228 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION of his grandfather was considered the greatest II- bar to his claim. But the long, undisputed and Chap. HI. i i t i • /> tx v^^^y-v^ acknowledged succession of, Henry, and from a male stem of the same royal stock, was determined to be paramount ; and it was ordained^ ''that for- asmuch as Henry had been acknowledged King, for the space of more than thirty eight years, he should enjoy the name, and title, and possession of the kingdom during his life. And if he died, or resigned, or forfeited the same, violating any point of his contract, that the said crown and dignity should be devolved upon the Duke of York and the lawful heirs of his body to the exclusion of every other. " A document embodying in formal terms, the substance of this decree was signed, sealed and sworn to, by the King and the Duke ; and in joy for the settlement of this important question, on All Saints, the King rode in solemn procession to St. Paul's, attended by the Duke of York; and on the following Saturday, the Duke himself was proclaimed by sound of trumpet, heir apparent to the crown of England ! Death of the Hcrc again, to all appearance, there might have Duke of York. ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^ troublcs of England. But dreadful evils were impending ! The much exas- on the male line, the claim of the House of Lancaster, was superior, being descended from the fourth son of Edward III. But the marriage with Anne the heiress of the third son, gave a priority to the claim of the house of York. 1 OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 229 Chap. HI. perated Queen would not suffer the indignity thus SECTION cast upon her offspring, to remain, and made the J'. greatest preparations in her power, for re-establish- ing her authority. If the Duke of York had not gained the eminence he wished, yet he saw that he had ascended as high as he could, with the consent of the people ; and he appeared willing to be satisfied. Having so far, therefore, achieved the purposes of his breast ; he was fired with in- dignation at the contumacy of the Queen, and determined, in the pride of his heart, to chastise a woman's insolence. Such was his precipitation on this occasion, that he set out with only part of his forces, ordering his son the Earl of IMarche, to follow, as soon as possible, with all his power. But alas! he was hastening his own destruction. The punishment of his perjury and treachery, and cruelty, was at hand ! The impatience of his re- venge hastened his march, and precipitated his death. A furious conflict took place at Wakefield, in which the Duke of York was slain, and with him, great numbers of the southern nobility and gentry. Ihe Earl of CHfford was the great champion on the Queen's side, and, was as pre eminent in cruelty as in station. With his own hand he struck off the head of the unfortunate man, whose heart had so lately dilated with joy as heir apparent of England ; and having sur- mounted his pale and ghastly brow, with a mock crown of paper, he presented it to the Queen, at Battle of Wakefield. 230 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION the miserable spectacle of which, like another II- Tomyris, she seemed to be delighted. But this was not the whole of his punishment. A still more costly sacrifice was to be offered to the demon of revenge. His younger son the Earl of Rutland, a promising youth of twelve years of age, was in the camp attended by his tutor. He was observ^ed by Clifford, from the circumstance of his rich garb, who, pursuing him with his dagger, asked him w^ho he was. The poor boy struck dumb with fear, with many tears, entreated for pardon. But his tutor coming up and thinking to save his life, at once disclosed his rank. The inhuman Clifford raising his dagger, with a fear- ful oath, exclaimed: " As thy father's sword hath slain mine, so shall my sword do to him and all his progeny." On saying which, he plunged the barbarous weapon into his heart. But the Earl of Marche was on his way to avenge these cruel deeds, and to requite his father's and brother's blood. On his way he fell in with the western army, under Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, and Butler, Earl of Ormond ; and encountered them at Mortimer's cross, near LudloAv. Nothing could withstand his impetuous valour.. The Welsh army was routed. The Earls of Ormond and Pembroke escaped ; but Sir Owen Tudor* with many others of the nobility, w^ere sacrificed to the manes of his father. * Father of the Earl of Pembroke by the widow of Henry V. Earl of Marehe victorious. t OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 231 In the mean time, the Queen, with her victo- SECTION torious, but undisciplined forces, proceeded towards II- London. The insolent and notorious conduct of her followers, operated unfavourably on the minds of the people, and, especially, on the citizens of London. But in the midst of their tumult and plunder, and rejoicing, the approach of the Earl of Marche was announced, and threw them into such consternation, that the whole body of their army precipitately fled towards the North. The Earl of Marche entered the metropolis, amidst the greatest demonstrations of joy. His amiable man- ners — ^his known courage — his undoubted title and the supposed breach of the late contract, all united in his favor. He was constrained to accept the crowm, and was shortly after, proclaimed King, under the title of Edward IV. m !! SECTION II. CHAPTER IV. EDWARD IV. — CONTINUANCE OF THE CIVIL WAR — RISE OF THE MIDDLE AND LOWER CLASSES OF SOCIETY. I SECTION The character of the young King developed itself W- fortunately to the wishes and expectations of the Chap. IV. . i , ^ , , v^^^-,^,-^^ people, and they flattered themselves that the Earl of vessel of the state had, at lencjth, rained a safe Marche, Duke . ' & ^ & of York, pro- nioonug uudcr his shelter. But a sudden tempest claimed King, ^as gathering which was destined to unsettle their A. D. 1460. ° T 1 . hopes and drive them out once more into the sea of confusion and bloodshed. The sword was not yet to slumber ; and it was little foreseen by the rejoicing multitude, that even in a few days, more English blood would be shed than on any one occasion since the conquest. The forces of the Queen had rallied ; and gained more than usual strength and confidence, from the circumstance of King Henry having placed himself at their head. The young King left London for the North, at OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 233 the head of forty thousand men, ready to strike a SECTION decisive blow. The armies met at Pontefract. ^I- But previous to the general engagement, the retri- v^r^v^/ butory punishment of the atrocious Clifford was rendered conspicuous. Whilst he was making some arrangements with respect to the position of the troops, whether from the hurry of the moment, or whether, overcome with the oppressive heat, he took off his gorget — when an arrow from an un- known hand, and without a head, pierced his throat and put an end to his life. But as if his own death was not to suffice for his brutality to the innocent Earl of Rutland, it is remarkable, that Clifford's own son, had, as it were, the mark of Cain set upon him, and lived a beggar through the successive reigns of three Kings. * The fatal battle of Pontefract followed, which Battle of after a contest of ten hours, ended in favour of ^°"'*'^''^^^' Edward. Thirty-seven thousand men w^ere left dead on the field, with the Earls of Northumber- land and Westmoreland and hosts of the nobility, so that it is said, the neighbouring rivers wxre dyed with streams of human gore. After this battle, Edward was crowned at West- minster with great magnificence. The vigour of the young King was shewn, in sending a strong and effective armament into France, to let that nation know, that they must no longer trifle with the English shores ; and to strike a wholesome * Restored in the reign of Henry VII. I' 234 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 235 SECTION terror into any of the continental powers, who n. might feel inclined to assist the claims of Henry. y^^^^^^--^ But the indefatigable Queen left nothing untried, King Henry and at thc head of a body of Scots made a furious prisoner. jj.j.yp^-Qj^ ' j^^^ England. — But to no effect, and to add to her trials, shortly after, Henry himself en- tering England in disguise, was taken prisoner, and committed to the tower. TheConstitu- In the midst of these civil feuds and bloody tion advances, coutcntions, the coustitutiou of England was ad- vancing. The common people from the value set upon their services by the contending parties, and by the frequent appeals made to their wishes, began to feel their growing importance ; whilst the nobility were made deeply to mourn the evils of their own licentious liberty; and the whole community saw and lamented, that the executive authority should be liable to so many fluctuations, arising from its entire dependence on the person of the Prince. All this was dear bought, but valuable experience, and led the way to the most substantial improvements. The King's The King shewed that his abilities were of the abilities for ^^^^ splcudid character, and fitted, not only for government, .... the managing of warlike affairs, but for adminis- tering the duties of peace. Edward gathered up the reins of the executive which had been thrown loose, on the necks of mens passions. He redressed the grievances of the state — Insisted upon the im- partial administration of justice, and even sat upon t the bench with the judges. He reduced the ordi- SECTION nary fees of the courts, and reformed and augmen- H. ted the statute book. He also regulated the coin, .^^Jit^:-!^ and even went so far, as to ordain penalties against biigi.ted by bis excessive pride in dress. But alas ! as the bright- JJcentious con- est scenes in nature are, oftentimes, overclouded wdth storms, so the princely qualities of Edw^ard were for a time — shrouded in darkness, through the violence of passion ; the sinful indulgence brought on a dark night of peril upon himself and his country; and in its calamitous course, the Almighty Governor again manifested the impartiality and certainty of his punishments ; and shewed, that the crimes of Princes as well as people, with dread certainty, bring on their ov^n retribution. The affairs of the public being established, the King's thoughts were turned to a matrimonial alliance ; and Bona, daughter of the Duke of Savoy, and sister to the Queen of France, was selected and approved of by the council. The Earl of Warwick at that time, the most powerful and mu- nificent subject of the realm, was chosen to con- duct the embassy. The authority and revenue of this nobleman were too large for any subject, in those turbulent times. His retainers were lodged in every tavern in London, which were filled with his provisions, and such was the number of his domestics, and the extent of his hospitalities, that six oxen were consumed every day, in the single article of beef. 236 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION Vigorous in all his proceedings, the Earl was II- not long in conducting the affairs of the King s Chap I V \,^^^sy^^ marriage, to a favorable issue. But before he could The Earl of rgtuj^^ fpom his embassv, a sudden and violent af- umbrage at the fection, had been conceived by the King for the ^'"^- beautiful and accomplished widow of Sir John Gray, slain in Henry's cause, at the battle of Saint Albans. His passion for this lady was such that it blinded his understanding, and obscured the light of reason. Never did the voice of justice and honor speak more audibly, and never were they more completely lost amidst the tempest of passion. He was placing the honor of the Earl of Warwick in jeopardy, and the word of his country — he was insultingly breaking a foreign alliance, which he had voluntarily sued for ; and he was laying him- self and the country, under an obligation to elevate and provide for the family of the wife he was about to choose. I do not introduce the subject in this manner, to pass a stern censure upon the conduct of the King — There are few men who have a right to pass a condemnatory sentence. I do not presume to be of that number. But the circumstance is introduced, because it is material in this history, and affords striking evidence, that violent passion, however disguised, when pursued in contradiction to justice and honor, will draw after it, certain and inevitable punishment. The King is married. The Earl of Warwick is deeply wounded, but smothers his resentment — OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 237 the jealousy of the nobility was excited by the ex- SECTION travagant promotion of the Queen, and the honor of H. the whole nation was tarnished by the transaction. .,^^^\r^ From the moment of his marriage Edward The King and became jealous and suspicious of Warwick, and wLwkk'' mu- on several occasions discovered evident signs of tuaiiy disgusted his uneasiness and dislike. The Earl retired to his castle in disgust, and resolved, at a fitting mo- ment, to overthrow the man, w^hom he had been mainly instrumental in making a King. Edward was no despicable rival and busily oc- cupied himself in contracting foreign alliances, one of which, must be particularly noticed as essential in this enquiry, because, afterwards, it became the turning point of his future destiny, and the means of his restoration, after his fall and consequent punishment. — This was his alliance with the Duke of Burgundy, who sent ambassadors to so- licit the hand of his sister Margaret for his son Charles, the Count Caralois. The ambassadors were courteously received by all but the Earl of Warwick, and sent back loaded with presents, and with a gracious answer to their request. During these negotiations, the old Duke of Burgundy died ; and Charles now raised to the Dukedom, desiring the fulfilment of the contract, Margaret proceeded with a splendid train to the continent, and was married to the Duke at Bourges. But the sword was again furbishing for civil slaughter, and a dreadful and complicated scene 238 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION of confusion and bloodshed is about to pass in "• review before us. The Earl of Warwick, to Chap. IV. ' wick conspires a-jainst the Kin?. strengthen himself for his perilous enterprize, Earl of War- communicates his designs to his two brothers the Archbishop of York and the Marquess Mon- tague, president of that city, and earnestly soli- cited their assistance. They acceded to his wishes, but with great unwillingness, especially Montague, whose indecision was one of the principle points in the denouement of these tragic scenes. The Earl of Warwick next essayed the Duke of Clarence brother to the King ; who was a known mal-con- tent, and had taken umbrage at the elevation of the Queen's family. The Duke is gained, and the unrighteous alliance fortified, by his accepting the Earl's daughter in marriage. The Archbishop of York and the Marquess Montague are left to manage matters in England ; and the Earl and his son-in-law retire to Calais to watch the event. The first effect of their traito- rous policy was, an insurrectionary movement in Yorkshire, which at length, became formidable when they were headed by Sir Henry Neville and Sir John Conyers, the latter a man of great ability and reputation. The King on hearing of the rebel- lion and of the designs of Warwick and his brothers, roused himself to action. He dispatched immedi- ately the Earl of Pembroke and his son Sir Richard Herbert to disperse the rebels in the north ; and put himself in readiness to resist the threatened danger. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 239 ^ The hostile parties fell in with each other at SECTION Danes-moor near Banbury, and for a long time II. sustained an equal contest. A great slaughter ^Jii^^i^ took place on both sides ; and it is difficult to say Battle of whether victory could be claimed by either party. ^^°^'-™°°'*- But according to the barbarous custom of those times, many precious lives were afterwards sacri- ficed, among whom, was the Earl of Pembroke, and his heroic son. Sir Richard Herbert: whilst Sir Henry Neville one of the northern leaders, had been taken prisoner and put to death on the preceding day, by Edward's party. In the mean time, another insurrectionary banditti had broken loose from Northamptonshire, and surprised the Lord Rivers, father to the Queen, and his son John, in their mansion-house at Grafton ; and, having brought them to Northampton, beheaded them in the most brutal manner ! What monster, half so monstrous. As the unrtiVd., licentious 7nob P The Earl of Warwick and the Duke of Clarence had now arrived in England ; and Warwick is made the place of rendezvous. The King hastened to meet his foes. — On the eve of battle, through Tiie King the influence of some of the principal persons onl^J^°°^^" both sides, a negociation was set on foot, w^hich threw the King entirely off his guard, as he made himself sure of an accommodation. But the wary Earl, perceiving that there was an utter want of vi- gilance in the King's camp, caused a sudden attack uard. \ 240 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY m I Taken pris- oner, hut es- capes. SECTION to be made during the night, and with slight oppo- ^*- sition took Edward prisoner. We are told that the Chap. IV . Earl insultingly triumphed over the monarch ; and declared to him his intention of humbling the power he had raised. This was sufficiently galling to the spirit of Edward, rendered proud by his suc- cesses and luxurious by the gratification of his de- sires ; and, to complete the ruin of his character, he was beginning to manifest symptoms of his father's duplicity and cruelty. The King was committed to the custody of the Archbishop of York, whose mild and gentle beha- viour, afforded him many opportunities of making his escape. He lost not the occasion and reached London in safety. ts This was an unexpected and perplexing event to the Earl of Warwick : and he thought it pru- dent to attend a conference, to which he was in- vited by Edward, for the adjustment of their af- fairs. But this conference ended in nothing but mutual recrimination and disgust ; and they sepa- rated with minds more exasperated, and each re- solved on deeds more desperate. The storm next made its appearance in Lincoln- shire, w^here Sir Robert Wells, son of Lord Wells, appeared in arms, at the head of thirty thousand men. On hearing of this insurrection, the King sent for Lord Wells, and commanded him to write to his son to desist from his seditious purposes, and taking Lord Wells with him he marched to Battle of Stamford. <^ ?J 241 Remarkable meet his enemies at Stamford. He hoped that SECTION the presence of the father would deter the son H. from proceeding further; but when he found him ^"^^' ^^* still bent upon pursuing his designs, the King, contrary to the law of justice, honour, and pro^ priety, put Lord Wells and his son-in-law. Sir George Dymock, to death ! hi the battle which followed, Edward was victorious ; and most of the noble prisoners, with Sir Robert Wells himself, were executed without mercy. After this victory, Warwick and Clarence, not .,,,,,,,, considering themselves in a state to meet Edward circumstance, in the field, embarked for France, where they were favourably received by Louis, who promised them considerable succours; and, "in order to secure success to Queen Margaret's cause, a mar- riage was concluded between the Queen's son and Anne, the second daughter of the Earl of War- wick! Such is the force of circumstance, and such the instability of human affairs ! On the flight of Warwick and Clarence, the King once more devoted himself to criminal indul- gence and pleasure ; but on receiving tidings of these transactions, he was again roused to action, and adopted severe measures against the leaders of the Lancastrian party. Many submitted them- selves to his authority : amongst these, was the Marquess Montague. At the same time, a gen- tlewoman, whose name the historian does not men- tion, was sent over into France to detach the Duke R m 242 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. Warwick returns. SECTION of Clarence from the interest of the Earl of War- II. wick, which important service she accomplished, and secured the Duke's secret promise to that effect. The schemes of the Earl of Warwick being now matured, he set sail from Dieppe with a formi- dable fleet, and landed at Dartmouth. The King, it seems, was taken by surprise ; once more en- gulphed in pleasure, he thought not of the ap- proach of such an enemy. He fondly hoped that Warwick was securely blockaded in the French harbour, by the Duke of Eurgundy ; and never dreamed a thought, that the winds of heaven had scattered his fleet, far and wide, over the ocean. — Warwick proceeded at once to London, proclaim- ing King Henry on his way ; and such was the energy of one, and the negligence of the other, that Edward had scarcely time to escape, and retreat to Nottingham. — But no matter : there was now no rest for the sole of his foot in England.— The tide of popular affection in favour of Henry, had set in, and it was irresistible. Vast numbers flocked to the standard of Warwick. The excitement was universal. In every street, bonfires were lighted in every church, the bells were ringing— in every house, psalms and songs were heard— every man shouted, *' King Henry ! " and every voice echoed, " a Warwick 1 a Warwick ! " Edward, attended by his brother, the Duke of Gloucester, and the Lords Hastings and Scales, The King Hed. i ■> OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 243 with some risk and danger, reached Lynn, where SECTIOxN he embarked with seven hundred men, for Hoi- IF. land. Such, indeed was the haste and confusion of ^"^''- ^^' his departure, that on his landing, he had not sufficient money to pay his passage. In the mean time, the potent Earl of Warwick r- „ ..-,!,,., ^TA'-ix, King Henry attended by his brother the Archbishop of York, is released from and other nobles, entered the tower, where King ^^'^^ """"^ ''" Henry had been confined for seven years ; and, once more, bowed the knee before him and saluted him King. He was immediately conducted with great pomp, through the city to the Bishop's pa- lace, where a court was held until the thirteenth of the same month, when he went in solemn pro- cession to Saint Paul's ; the Earl of Warwick bearing his train— the Earl of Oxford, his sword, and the fickle people crying—' God bless King Henry ! ' A Parliament was summoned in Henry's name, which met on the sixth day of November, and proceeded, by its enactments to illustrate the sacred truth, that no confidence can be placed in Princes, nor any trust in the sons of men. Edward was decreed a traitor and usurper — his estates confis- cated, and all statutes made under his authority, annulled. The crowns of England and France were confirmed to Henry and his heirs male, and in default of such, to those of the Duke of Clarence in which his interests were consulted, as son in law to the Earl of Warwick. But these were vain 244 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY ll «i SECTION projects, and doomed to be as unsubstantial, as II. they were unreasonable and unjust. ciiAP. IV. Through the dark clouds which overshadowed Henry VII. thc social hcavcns, a momentary gleam darted a twelve years of j.^y ^f liQipe ] and thc uatiou was permitted to have to the Kin-, a transient view of the future King, under whose wise and prudent sway, all these deadly feuds were to be composed, and England was to receive a new impulse in her mighty course. He was then a child about twelve years of age, living in the deepest retirement, unknowing and unknown. This was Lord Henry, grandson to Queen Catha- rine,* widow of Henry V, great grandson to John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, son of Edward IIL He was discovered in his solitude in Pembroke- shire, w^here he was carefully educated under the eye of the Lady Herbert, by the Earl of Pem- broke, and was by him brought to London and presented to King Henry, soon after his restoration. It is asserted by historians that, the King viewing him with much seriousness, predicted his future greatness ; and presenting him to the nobility pre- sent, uttered these words : ' Lo ! this is the person to whom, after all our violent struggles, both we and our adversaries must at length, submit. ' * Owen Tudor, married the widow of King Henry V. and from him sprung Edmund of Hadham, Earl of Richmond fa- ther of this Lord Henry. This descent had no affinity with the house of Lancaster. But his mother the Lady Margaret, was grand-daughter to the Duke of Lancaster, fourth son to Edward HL Though even this affinity to the crown of England is not without defect. ^. 1 OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 245 Chap. IV. This may be thought to border on the marvel- SECTION lous. — It is given as history : but with so many 11. marvels, both within us, and without, in nature and morals, a wise man will pause and consider. Yet I do not think I should have quoted the words of Henry's prophecy, had it not been for a splen- did passage I lately met with, in Sir Humphrey Davy, which has a strong tendency to humble the pride of reason ; and which, as it contains the re- sult of his long and matured experience, is an in- valuable addition to the stores of human wisdom. — It is as follows. " In my opinion, profound minds are the most likely to think lightly of the resources of human reason : And it is the pert, superficial thinker, " who is generally strongest in every kind of unbe- lief. The deep philosopher sees changes of causes and effects so wonderfully and strangely " linked together, that he is usually the last per- " son, to decide upon the impossibility of any two " series of events being independent of each other; '' and in science so many natural miracles, as it " were, have been brought to light, such as the " fall of stones from meteors in the atmosphere, the " disarming a thunder cloud by a metallic point, the " production of fire from ice by a metal white as " silver, and referring certain laws of motions of the "sea to the moon, that the physical enquirer is "seldom disposed to assert confidently, on any ab- " struse subjects belonging to the order of natural r( *i a (C 246 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. I SECTION ''tilings; and still less so, on those relating to the II- "more mysterious relations of moral events, and " intellectual natures. Again, I envy no quality of " the mind or intellect in others, not genius, power, " will, or fancy ; hut if I could choose what would "he most delightful, and I helieve most useful to " me, I should prefer a firm religious belief, to " every other blessing ; for it makes life a thorough " discipline of goodness ; creates new hopes, when " all earthly hopes vanish ; and throws over the " decay, the destruction of existence, the most gor- "geous of all lights ; awakens life even in death, " and from corruption and decay, calls up beauty " and divinity ; makes an instrument of torture and " shame, the ladder of ascent to paradise ; and far " above all combinations of earthly hopes, calls up " the most delightful visions of palms and amar- " anths in the gardens of the blessed ; and the "security of everlasting joys, where the sensualist " and the sceptic view only gloom, decay, annihila- "tion, and despair." The presentation of Henry VII. to the English nation, has broken in upon the course of the his- tory more than I intended — but there was another "marvellous" circumstance in connection with it, which must be mentioned. At the very moment when the royal boy stood in the presence of Henry, the daughter of the exiled Edward^ Eliz- abeth, who Vv^as designed to be his future Queen, was then an infant in her mother's arms, pre- OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 247 ^. i served from violence, within the sanctuary of SECTION Westminster. H- But we must now return to our more immediate s^^Jr^^^'-^^ enquiry. King Edward was busily engaged in King Edward pushing his interest with the Duke of Burgundy ^^^^^^ upon whom all his hopes depended. But that Duke's situation v^ith respect to France, prevented him from openly espousing his cause. He secret- ly, however, assisted him, and after many vexa- tious delays, provided him with a slender arma- ment, with which he landed at Ravenspur, in Yorkshire. But we behold him without satisfac- tion. He had thrown off the honor and frankness of youth; and following his father's pernicious example, had recourse to falsehood and perjury. He solemnly avowed his allegiance to Henry, and that he came solely for the purpose of claiming his patrimony of York ; and under this false pre- tence, took formal possession of the city. Things remarkably conspired in his favor and he is per- mitted once more to mount the throne. The Earl of Y^arwick had stationed his brother His success. the Marquess Montague in the north, with suffi- cient force to intercept Edward. But we have seen that he was never ardent in his brother's cause, and his conduct on this occasion, chiefly contri])uted to the King's success. Edward pas- sed without molestation, through the midst of those, who ought to have opposed him, which gave the people an idea that his return was encouraged 248 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 249 Duke of Gloucester, afterwards Richard II L interferes. SECTION % those in power. At Nottingham great num- II. bers flocked to his standard. He hastened direct- Chap. IV. 1^ ^^ Warwick to meet his potent adversary, who astonished and enraged at his brother s conduct, had sent a message to the Duke of Clarence, to join him with all speed. The contending parties had now met, when Edward's brother the Duke of Gloucester, for the first time appears on the stage. Whilst the armies were drawn up in order of battle, he rushed through the lines — made his way to the tent of the Duke of Clarence, and having entered, pre- tended to deliberate on what w^e know had long been determined. He soon re-appeared, leading the Duke of Clarence by the hand, and conduct- ing him to the tent of Edward, the two brothers warmly embraced with assurances of mutual for- giveness. The Earl of Warwick w^as now alone. Clar- ence sent him the best excuse he could frame, for his conduct; and in his brothers name, offered the fairest conditions if he w^ould submit. But it was now too late ; he had entangled himself be- yond recovery, by the marriage of his daughter with King Henry's son. Besides, he was highly exasperated by the defection of Clarence, and the disobedience of his brother. He was like a chafed lion. His stubborn soul was resolved to act its part ; in determining which, he was hastening his own destruction. k Edward, in his external manners, was one of the SECTION most plausible men that ever Uved. He determi- H- ned, if possible, on this important occasion, to ^^ji^>0 secure the good-w^ill of the citizens of London, battle of st. and, by an artful mixture of severity and clemency completely gained his object. The Earl of War- wick had advanced as far as Saint Albans ; and Edward, to cut off all his hopes of supply from the city, stationed his army between London and Saint Albans. The two armies approached each other, both armed with the most deadly resolution. Edward encamped on Gladmore Heath near Bar- net. The Duke of Gloucester was appointed to the van — the rear was to be conducted by Lord Hastings— the main battle by himself. Warwick entrusted his right wing to the Earl of Oxford and the Marquess Montague ; his left to the Duke of Exeter ; and the main body to the Duke of Som- erset. When all was ready, he alighted from horseback, sent away his horse and embraced his generals. It was a parting embrace. For six well contested hours the battle was in Death of the favour of Warwick, and was lost by the simplest ^.^'^ ^^ ^'*'" incident. The Earl of Oxford had given as a badge to his men, a star with streams.— The badge of Edward, was the sun in his brightness. Whilst Oxford was pushing on his men from the right w^ing, they were mistaken by the Duke of Somerset's men in the van, for the flying adherents of Edward, and they attacked them with great 250 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY CllAF. IV. wiuk slain. SECTION fury. Oxford astonished, and fearful of treachery, II. fled with his men, which rendered the affair des- perate on the side of Warwick. In vain he attempted to re-establish his position and regain the day. His efforts were utterly ineffectual, and at length, in despair of the contest, he furiously rushed into the thickest of the fight ; on observing which, his brother the Marquess Montague has- tened to his rescue. But there was no rescue. Earl of War- They both fell covered with wounds. Thus per- ished this powerful Earl, and with him ten thous- and men. His character is worth a delineator. He appeared to be governed more by resolute enterprize, than by low ambition; and by his gigantic efforts he laid the most extensive founda- tion for the future greatness of his family. He married his two daughters to two princes ; one to Edward, the son of Henry and heir to the house of Lancaster, and the other, to the Duke of Clarence, brother to Edward of the house of York. But notwithstanding, the future greatness of his family w^as denied to him. His sons in law, as we shall see, met with violent and untimely deaths. All the sons of the Duke of Clarence, who arrived at any age, died by the axe of the executioner; whilst his youngest daughter, the only one who arrived at any eminence, by her marriage with the Duke of Gloucester, was the miseral)le Queen of an usurper, and was exterminated by poison. Just Heaven ! what a lesson ! if posterity would I OF ExXGLISH HISTORY. 251 only have been instructed by it, and have learnt, SECTION that violent dealing, in opposition to thy just and "• Chap. IV. holy law, will sooner or later, experience its due ^^^^-v^/ reward and punishment ! Decisive as was the late victory, yet the chas- Queen Mar- _ _ _ ^^ , . caret 10(1 uced tisement of England and her Queen, was not yet ^^ ^^^,^^^.^. complete. Queen Margaret and her French allies, with Prince Edward, landed at Weymouth, and took up their quarters at Bath, where the Duke of Somerset had great influence. But Edward determined to allow them as short a time as possible for increasing their strength ; and a general en- gagement, which was the twelth, was brought about at Tewkesbury. This Battle was won by a stratagem of the Duke of Gloucester, who com- manded the right wing. The evil machinations of Queen Margaret, which v»^ere, in a great measure, the source of all these evils, were now^ about to receive the most anguish-stirring punishment. Before the battle, she counselled her generals, that her son should be sent back to France for safety, as upon him, rested all their future hopes. Her counsel was good, but fatally for her happi- ness, it w^as overruled by her Captains. In the battle her son w\as taken prisoner, and being con- ducted into the presence of Edward, he was asked by the Conqueror, how^ he dared to set his foot, in an hostile manner, upon the shores of England'? — the noble minded youth answered, that he came to recover his father's kingdom, and to claim his own \ 252 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 253 \ I it SECTION inheritance, descended to him, through many II- generations. At this answer, Edward was ungen- Chap. IV. Her son murdered. II erously offended, and pushed him aside, disdain- fully with his spear. It was a sufficient signal. The ignoble Duke of Gloucester assisted by Clar- ence, Dorset and Hastings, dispatched the helpless youth with their poinards. I mention their names thus distinctly, because we shall find the retribu- tory vengeance of the Most High speedily over- taking them. Death of This barbarous act w^as shortly after followed 'ns enr>. ^^ auothcr, in some respects more monstrous, in which, the Duke of Gloucester was the sole actor. This wicked man, whose mind w^as full of every evil device, like the prowling felon of the forest, ever intent upon deeds of violence, visited the unfortunate Henry in prison. Of the peculiar circumstances of this interview, we know nothing, except that the Duke became his assassin, and stabbed the mild and patient Monarch to the heart ! Such a deed was reserved for such a man. In the midst of the unprecedented dangers and trea- sons, to which this Monarch had been exposed, there never was found one sufficiently abandoned, who could lift his hand against King Henry ! — not even, the Duke of York! — Character of Hcury VI. posscsscd cvcry monastic virtue Henry VI. without their accompauying viccs. He was mild and merciful — patient — ^humble — chaste — temper- ate and self denying. He never inflicted an injury, Chap. IV. and never had a personal enemy. One might SECTION have expected that so many virtues owed their H. existence to the powerful influence of Christianity. But Christianity, does not consist, solely, in the self denying virtues. It gives, indeed, the command over the passions, by filling the mind with objects more worthy of its pursuit, and by instilling new principles of action. But its direct tendency, is, to enlarge the understanding, to arm the active powers with energy, and to teach the subject of its influence, that the performance of the duties attached to his station, is a paramount OBLIGATION. In council, therefore, it renders a man prudent, wise and just — ^in public, mild and unassuming; in private, holy and temperate — under injury, patient and submissive — in prosperity, equable and condescending ; in adversity, contented and cheerful, and in the field of battle, courageous. These are its legitimate results upon the character. Of its powder in the closet, we are not now speaking. If we try King Henry by this standard, his mo- ral acquirements will be found defective. He was eminently deficient in the performance of the ^;™p''°^ active duties of his high station ; and the time which ought to have been allotted to their energetic discharge, was consumed in those religious exer- cises, which had usurped the place of Christianity. He is a correct example of being ''righteous over- much" He was the "beau ideale" of Popery. He was the perfect representation of a christian He affords the II 254 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. SECTION on the model of that church, and, in some points n. of view, it was a beautiful portraiture. But truth is proportionate ; and Christianity, which is its essence, never leaves, the character fully under its influence, defective in any essential parts. But Henry's character w^as exceedingly defective in the active virtues. Yet he was scrupulously atten- tive in the performance of the minutest direc- tions of the church. It is therefore evident, that if the system of that church does not involve princi- ples, inconsistent with truth, i. e. with Christianity, Henry must have been one of the most splendid characters that ever existed. I do not mean to intimate, that Christianity did not exist in Henry. But if it did, it was ill directed. And this we consider to have been the genius of Popery. — Where Christianity exists in the heart, it destroys its energy, where it does not, it holds out temptation to perjury and crime. So that, it has a tendency to nullify the genuine influence of Christianity, driving men to the extremes of virtue and vice, for the truth of which, let Henry VI. and the Duke of York stand for exampl s. — One, is an anchorite in virtue, the other, a felon in guilt. — This defect in Henry's character drew after it, its necessary results, which were overruled by the moral Governor, not only to his own punishment, but in himself and his son, to the expiation of the treason and blood and usurpation of his Grand- father. The facts connected with this assertion H OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 255 are so palpable, that there can be no occasion to SECTION retrace the subject. In Henry VI., the glory of Henry IV.— for the establishment of which, he waded through so many crimes, was utterly extinguished— affording a monitory lesson to all posterity, that " Riches profit not in the day of wrath ;" * and, that " the house of the wicked shall be overthrown ". f Margaret the Queen of the unfortunate Henry, was still alive, and of necessity, plunged into the depths of the most bitter grief, A woman as we have seen, of masculine courage— proud, imperious and factious in prosperity— in adversity, vindictive and resolute. She had warm affections. She was a tried and faithful wife ; and a careful and affectionate mother. But she w^as ambitious, treacherous and cruel. Throughout the whole of the period which has Lamentable just passed under review, she stood forth as the ^^^l^^^^;^"" most prominent person in England, and had she pursued the well-being of her family, on just and legitimate grounds, she had not, at last, become so utterly destitute. But after the death of her hus- band and son, she sunk into such obscurity, that history does not tell us where she died ! Can this be Margarefs lot P Fair England's Queen— Rival, in counsel, to the wise— in Valour, to the brave ; and single-handed. Sole antagonist of Kings I * Prov. xi. 4. \ Prov. xiv. 11. If 256 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION II. Chap. IV. Duke of Richmond escapes. Jasper, Earl of Pembroke, who had been con- spicuous throughout the civil war, upon the last overthrow of his party — retired with his nephew the Duke of Richmond, the only remaining scion of the family of Lancaster ; and fled into Bretagne. It was indeed a narrow escape. Such an one as manifests the interference of a superior and super- intending power, watching over the future King of England. In the mean time, the Duke of Burgundy sent an embassy to solicit assistance against the French King. A request from such a quarter could not be denied. Edw^ard accordingly, con- ducted one of the best appointed English armies, that had ever appeared in that country. Its approach created considerable alarm, but Louis, by his courtesy and bribery, turned aside the threatened blow. A treaty of peace was entered into, and it was solemnly stipulated, that the Dauphin should marry the King's daughter Eliz- abeth. The prospect of such an alliance was highly gratifying to Edward, and he returned to England in great pomp. Every thing was now settled to the King's saved from do niind, and he would fain have indulged himself in struction. ° those luxurious and sinful pleasures, which were congenial to his disposition. But one thing still oppressed him. There was yet one obstacle to the full fruition of the happiness which seemed within his reach, and he resolved upon the most Henry VI I. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 257 guilty measures to remove it. For this purpose SECTION he sent a chosen embassy, laden with bribes and II. promises, into Bretagne, to obtain possession of ^"^''' ^^• the Earl of Richmond, at any price. His price w^as sufficient to buy the whole court of the Duke of Bretagne ; and it was agreed, that the young Prince should be delivered up to his will. His destruction now appeared inevitable.— But he was still to be saved ; and the betrayed and deserted youth found one friend, in that venal court. Let his name be recorded :— Peter Landoes, treasurer to the Duke of Bretagne.— By means of this per- son, he escaped from the English ambassador, to whom he had been delivered by the Duke of Bre- tagne, to a sanctuary, from whence he could not be removed. On the return of the embassy with- out their prey, though Edward was greatly mor- tified, yet he endeavoured to bear the evil which could not be remedied ; gave full license to every indulgence of his heart, and studied all the arts of popularity. Whilst thus living in pleasure,— jealousy and Dukeofcio. treachery were at work within the bosom of his '^"^^ ""'''"^ own family. The Queen suspected the ambitious ""'''' designs of the Duke of Clarence, in case of the King's death. This jealousy was inflamed where it originated, by the Duke of Gloucester, in whose deep soul, the darkest and deadliest deeds were preparing. The smothered flame at length, burst forth, and the Duke of Clarence was accused of s circura- ■tlSJP"! fl^^"-!^ 258 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY CHAP. IV. The King's anxiety to marry his SECTION treason— a crime, of which he had never thought; n. and it is said, that he was drowned by his own choice, in a vessel of wine. He was the first of the murderers of the late Prince of Wales, who suffered the Divine vengeance. In his destruction the King was an unwilUng accomplice.— It after- wards cost him many a bitter pang, and he was often heard to exclaim, when any person interceded with him for a malefactor.—" Oh my unfortunate brother ! there was none to plead for thee ! "— His natural gaity and affableness of manner for- sook him, and he beame, it is said, avaricious ! The great object of his anxiety was now the consummation of the marriage of his daughter, Zi:;,, the with the Dauphin of France; and which, if it had Dauphin. taken place would have proved alike injurious to his own family, and fatal to the peace and happi- ness of England. No : his daughter was to be- ' come the wife of the man, whom he had diligently sought to destroy ; and by that alliance, the foun- dations of England's glory were to be established and her happiness cemented ! Her marriage with the Dauphin was frustrated, solely by the caprice of the French Monarch, whose falsehood, perjury, and avarice, were all employed on the occasion. He indulged Edward's fondest hopes, by the fair- est promises and the most solemn oaths ; and so secure was the King of his fidelity, that when it was told him, that, the Dauphin was married, he would not credit the intelligence, till the same i OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 259 person affirmed, that he had seen the celebration SECTION of the nuptials. IF. The outraged father and insulted Monarch, ^^^^t^>l^ made instant preparations for war. But his days King's death, were numbered. He was seized with a sudden melancholy. Some historians say, that he died of a surfeit, which is not improbable, when his habits are considered. Be that as it may, his death was accompanied with the most bitter reflections; and he left the world, under the most terrifying apprehensions. Never surely was there a more atrocious family character of than that of York ; and never was a familv more ^^'^ ^ York signally punished. The father the Duke of York, perished in battle : of his three brothers, the Earl of Rutland, was murdered in cold blood, the Duke of Clarence, came to a violent end by intrigue and treachery; and the Duke of Gloucester, as we shall see, died in battle, and was treated with every ignominy. His two sons were murdered by their unnatural uncle ; and his seven daughters died without issue! affording demonstrative 'evi- dence of the truth of the divine oracle, which declares: "that the lamp of the wicked shall be put out, and their name covered wdth darkness," * the House of * Book of Job. xviil. G. xxi. 17. Proverbs xiii. 9. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 261 SECTION II. CHAPTER V. EDWARD V BETKIBUTION ON THE HOUSE OF YORK. II SECTION Edward V. eldest son of the deceased monarch, II. was only twelve years old, on the death of his ,^J:i:;p^ father, and was proclaimed King of England, Edward V. under the above title ; but his reign was a brief \X\m. and tragic span, and was hurried to its unnatural close, by the monstrous Duke of Gloucester, who appears to be set forth for the purpose of shewing, to what extent of atrocity, human nature can advance. At the time of his father s death, the young King and his brother the Duke of York, were at Ludlow, in Shropshire, with their mother ; and in the midst of her relatives and friends. The wily traitor, their uncle, saw that he could not advance a single step in his designs, whilst the young Princes were thus surrounded by their natural guardians and allies. He determined there- f cester. fore, to detach such protectors from the persons SECTION of his nephews ; and to remove the latter, entirely H. out of the sphere of their influence. To effect ..^^i!^^^^ this, he insinuated to the more ancient nobility. Plots of the that they were unjustly deprived of their constitu- ^. J/ " tional right of waiting upon the King ; and that their exclusion from his presence, was an implied insult. He addressed himself, in particular, to the haughty Duke of Buckingham, and to Lord Hastings, lord chamberlain. — He succeeded, and a league of ambition, pride and avarice was formed, the legitimate fruits of which, soon made their ap- pearance. The time appointed for the coronation was ap- proaching, and when they found the King was to be attended from Shropshire, with an unusual guard, they wrote in strong terms to the King's mother, pointing out the danger of such a step ; that it would give birth to suspicions and jealou- sies, and unsettle the minds of many who had been just reconciled. — At the same time, they wrote the most reverential letters to the young King. — Their scheme succeeded : and the King moved forward with a very slender retinue. The Protector and the Duke of Buckingham, proceeded to Northampton, to shew all honor to the royal progress. On the King's arrival, they pretended there was no suitable convenience for his entertainment, on account of the crowded state of the town, and conducted him to Stoney Strat- i}> 262 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. h 11 i\ SECTION ford. They themselves took up their quarters at n. Northampton ; and under pretence of shewing him honour, detained with them the Lord Rivers, uncle to the King. They entertained Rivers to a late hour, and when he retired to his lodging, they ordered the keys of the gates to be brought to them. Their servants, who were billetted in the neighbouring villages, they ordered to occupy all - the passes to Stratford, and to let no one pass be- fore them. In the morning, before they left North- ampton, they secured Lord Rivers ; and hasting to Stratford, found the young King mounting his horse, whom they reverently saluted; but the next moment, arrested the Kings half-brother, the Lord Richard Grey, whom they accused to- gether with the Marquess of Dorset and Lord Ri- vers, of a conspiracy to get possession of the kingdom. Queen flies to The King was now in the hands of the Protec- sanctuary. ^^^^ |^^^ ^^ ^^^ j^| procccd uo furthcr iu his designs, unless he could gain possession of his brother the Duke of York. But this was a difficult task. — The Queen was now alive to the perfidy of Glou- cester, and had fled with her son to the sanctuary of Westminster. A council was summoned, in which it was re- solved, through the artifices of Gloucester and the vehemence of Buckingham, that it was incon- sistent with the dignity of the nation, and the res- pect due to the King and to themselves, that the OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 263 t i Chap. V. King's brother should be held in sanctuary ; and SECTION it was further determined, that he must be brought 1^- away, either by persuasion or force. A deputation of Lords w^as appointed, at the head of which was Russel, Archbishop of York. — The deputation waited upon the Queen, and proceeded from per- suasion to threats, till the terrified Queen, at length, moved by the entreaties and solemn assurances of the Archbishop, delivered up her son, under the most agonizing forebodings of his fate. . . The Protector, up to this period, confined within his owm breast, his ultimate designs ; but he now felt, that the concurrence of others was necessary to his full success ; he addressed himself accord- ingly, to the Duke of Buckingham, whom he had hitherto made use of as an unconscious instru- ment. I should be in danger of waiting a novel were I to detail the particulars. Suffice it to say, that the Duke was gained by the most extrava- gant promises. The Duke of Gloucester con- tracting, to give his only son in marriage to the Duke's daughter. The great matter of consultation in the council chamber, where the chief men of the nation were assembled, and at the head of whom, was Hastings Lord Chamberlain, was the approaching corona- a secret tion. The Protector was at the head of another ^"''"''^* council, whose deliberations w^ere secret; and whose object was to frustrate the deliberations of the grand council ; and to place the Protector upon mm It 264 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 265 Chap. V. Ilti 'il I ' SECTION the throne. The first victim to the machinations II« of the secret council was Lord Hastings, who was stricken down, at a moment when he thought himself most secure, and highest in the Protector's favor. He had a spy in the secret council — a man of the name of Catesby — a person bound to Hastings by every obligation, and, in whom he reposed the greatest confidence. This misplaced confidence was the ruin of himself and his friends. For, when Lord Stanley intimated his fears, lest dangerous things were deliberated in the secret council, he was silenced by Lord Hastings, with the assurance, that nothing of importance could be transacted without his knowledge. The Pro- tector w^as greatly attached to Hastings, and had always found him a steady adherent and friend ; and no man could have assisted him more in his ulterior designs. Catesby was commissioned by the Protector to open the subject to the Chamber- lain, and, if possible, to gain his concurrence. But he never fulfilled his commission. He was faithless to one master, and treacherous to the other. He determined to undermine his benefac- tor and to enrich himself with the spoils. He took every opportunity of whispering suspicions into the ear of the Protector ; and, at length, inti- mated that the death of Hastings was the only means of their security — the Protector admitted the demon into his breast, all the jealousy and fury of his nature were roused, and he lost no time in exe- Chap. v. cuting the purpose upon which he had determined. SECTION —On the 13th day of June, 1483, he entered the "• council chamber of the tower, in great haste and with an angry countenance : having seated him- self, he accused the Queen and others of forming Death of a conspiracy against him. The accusation was so preposterous, that the Chamberlain demur- red as to the possibility of its existence. The Protector rising up, vehemently accused him of being a party ; and striking the council table with his hand, the room was filled with armed men. — Lord Hastings was arrested by the command of the Protector ; and after a brief moment allowed for confession, he was hurried into the court, and be- headed on a log of wood which happened to be there. This circumstance in our history would not have been mentioned, had it not been to shew the avenging hand of Heaven. — Hastings was ano- ther OF THE MURDERERS OF EdW^ARD PRINCE OF Wales. The event of his death took place on the very day appointed for the execution of the Lords Rivers and Grey, and in which, he was a principal agent. The circumstances of his fate were such, as to induce the learned and contem- plative Raleigh to remark that, " he never in any history, observed a clearer manifestation of the judgment of God, than in the death of Hastings. "* The toilsome and arduous path of the Duke of Gloucester, was thus far cleared of the obstacles * Echard. i I 266 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY 267 Chap. V. II i h SECTION which opposed its fatal progress. It was now time II. to sound the inclinations of the people, and to pre- pare them for becoming parties to his elevation. — To carry his intentions into effect, he was obliged to enlarge his plan, and to increase the number of his instruments. — One of these, was Sir Edward Shaw the Lord Mayor ; and, even ecclesiastics were found, who refused not to desecrate their office, and to cover themselves with disgrace and infamy. — Two are particularly named, John Shaw brother to the INIayor, and Parker, provincial of the Augustine friars. Both these men were in high repute with the people as preachers ; and their ob- ject was to make the best use of the influence it gave them ; and, if possible, to gain the people to the designs of the Protector. The former, was to harangue at the Spittal, and the latter, at St. Paul's cross. Their instructions were, to intimate the illegitimacy of the late King — ^l^ut to dwell forcibly on that of the young Princes, from the circumstance of their father's former contract of marriage, which had been broken by him. The Spittal preacher in the midst of his discourse, lost his voice and was obliged to desist. The other at St. Paul's cross, was still more unfortunate. His eloquence, no doubt, was as irresistible, as the ingenuity of his text, was beyond comparison: "The multi- plying brood of the ungodly shall not thrive, nor take deep rooting from bastard slips." * And * Apoc. Wisd. iv. 3. I to gain a complete triumph over the minds of the SECTION assembled multitude, it was agreed that at the very "• height of his panegyric, the Protector was to make his appearance. But alas ! the panegyric on rapid wings mounted to its climax, — but no Protector appeared ! and the preacher had descended to a humbler strain of common place, before he arrived. It was an awkward predicament: the happy moment had been lost : he endeavoured to retrace his flight, but in vain. The aerial path would not be retraced. He essayed again and again, and threw^ out some flatteries which were so gross, that they appeared more like libels, than panegy- ric, and the people, instead of throwing up their caps, and crying King Richard, stood like statues. The preacher became confused, and hastily closed his sermon; and, the two personages retired, equally mortified and chagrined. The vexation and disappointment of the preacher were so great, that he died, in consequence.— So let all traitors to God and their King perish ! The Protector, however, in no way deterred by this inauspicious beginning, proceeded to form new I'l'^^ p''"^'^*^^ *• plans. In the scenes which followed, the Duke of Buckingham became the principal actor ; and, in conjunction with the Lord Mayor, undertook to bring the citizens to an acknowledgment of Rich- ard's title. For this purpose, with a noble retinue of lords and gentlemen, he attended a grand meeting of the common council and citizens, con- The trade 268 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 269 Chap. V. SECTION vened in the Guild Hall. The Duke addressed n. them in an elaborate speech, in which he exag- gerated the mismanagement of the last reign, insisted on the illegitimacy of the young Princes, and magnified the pretentions and abilities of the Protector. But when he had concluded, much to his chagrin, not a voice cried, " King Richard ! " The mayor, w^ho had been expected to prepare the people for the occasion, suggested that he could not be understood. The Duke, then, in a louder and plainer manner, went over the same ground. But to the same effect : there was silence still. The Duke a third time, in rather an angry tone, resumed : He declared that his affection for the citizens brought him to consult them. He had no doubt, he said, that the rest of the nation, with the nobility, would approve of his proposition, without their aid; but his regard for them induced, him to make them the offer, that they might be foremost in promoting a matter, in which, the prosperity of the kingdom was so deeply involved. On the conclusion of these observations the citizens began to look at each other, when some of Buckingham's servants threw up their hats and cried " King Richard ! " and, the Duke seizing the moment, applauded their wisdom and unanim- ity, and begged them to be in readiness, early next morning, to attend him with a petition to the Protector, by which he might be induced to com- ply with a request so much desired by them, and SECTION the whole nation. ^ chap.'v. This miserable farce was enacted next morning, and the Duke at the head of a deputation waited upon the Protector, to crave his acceptance of the crown. The Protector appeared to be greatly amazed at the proposition. The Duke of Buck- ingham, then, at some length, entered into the grievances of the state— the illegitimacy of the Princes, and the wishes of the citizens, and earn- estly solicited him that he would vouchsafe to accept the crown, to the honor of God and the safety of the realm. The Protector with an angry look rephed, that though there was some truth in what he had said, yet, that his love for his brother Edward, and affection for his children, would not allow him to accept their offer ; and further, that it would afford too fair an opportunity to the en- vious and malignant, to accuse him of ambitious views. At the same time, he would kindly accept their wishes, inasmuch as they proceeded from honest affection to his person, and sincere love for their country ; that his best abilities should be given to the service of the King ; and in such a w^ay, as to leave them nothing to desire. This answer being given, the Duke stepped aside, as if to confer with the deputation, and, in a short time returning under the balcony, where the Protector was station- ed, requested pardon,— which being obtained, he proceeded in a louder voice and with a fuller tone, 270 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY F' i ^ SECTION to declare, that the nation was resolved not to A*- admit the title of the sons of Edward ; and that if he refused the offer now made to him, they should be obliged to tender it, in another quarter. The Protector affected some surprise at this threat ; and answered, that he was sorry they en- tertained such an opinion of his brother's children ; but as there was none beside himself, who could have any title to the throne, and that to his right of inheritance, they had been pleased to add that of election, he should yield to their entreaties, and from that time, take upon him the title and pre- eminence of the two states of England and France. — He' then entreated God to continue him no lon- ger in life, than, that life should be serviceable to his country ! By such miserable pretences, and under such blasphemous asseverations, did Richard III. gain possession of the English throne ; in which trans- action, none were more miserably deceived than the principal actors themselves, who in every step, were plotting their own eventual destruction, whilst they were promising to themselves the sweets of ambition. i •Wl SECTION IL— CHAPTER VI. RICHARD III. — EXTINCTION OF THE HOUSE OF YORK CLOSE OF THE CIVIL WAR BREAKING UP OF THE ARISTOCRATIC POWER. SECTION Richard Duke of Gloucester, the eighth and ^J]'^^ youngest son of Richard Duke of York, was pro- v,^^p-v^^ claimed King of England on the twenty-second a. d. 1483. day of June, under the title of Richard III. For the space of two years, he was allowed to hold his badly acquired pre-eminence— but not in peace. — By his excessive ambition and cruelty, he not only became the extirpater of his own house, of which he was the last, but, was the instrument of remov- ing every obstacle out of the way, and facilitating to the utmost, the advance of the house of Lancas- ter. His acts of falsehood and his deeds of blood, were remarkably overruled ; and, he became the wicked and unconscious instrument of hastening a new era in the career and prosperity of England ! 272 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION H. Chap. VI. Nothing now seemed to him, to be wanting to the full establishment of his usurped authority, but the ceremonial of his coronation ; which he deter- mined to celebrate in the most sumptuous manner, and with the most splendid accompaniments. The preceding day he went in procession, with great pomp, to the tower, for the purpose of exercising the regal prerogative, in conferring titles of honor. The usurper, on that day of his triumph, when he was about to create new forms of grandeur, as the emblems of his power, little suspected that, his chief errand to the tower, was to liberate from its dungeons, the man, who was to lay the foundation of his overthrow. He created Lord Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, and Thomas Howard, his son. Earl of Surrey; and Lord Francis Lovell, viscount and Lord Chamberlain, with seventeen Knights of the Bath. At the same time, he proceeded to dispose of the state prisoners who had been im- mured, since the arrest and execution of Hastings. The Archbishop of York he restored to liberty. The Lord Stanley was merely retained as an hostage for the conduct of his Son, the Lord Strange, who was raising forces in Lancashire. The Bishop of Ely whose integrity was equal to his ability, and whose devotion to the children of Edward, was unalterable, was detained — yet that his restraint might be removed from the public eye, and the Bishop himself, be as remote as pos- er ENGLISH HISTORY. 273 sible, from the politics of the day, he was commit- SECTION ted to the custody of the Duke of Buckingham, H. who sent him to his castle in Brecknockshire, — v^Ji^3^-vl/ Upon this single circumstance, unimportant as it appears, turned, in a great measure, the future destinies of England ! But previous even to the coronation, the Duke Disgust of of Buckingham was disgusted with the conduct of ^"^^'"^^^™- the King, and probably, ashamed, of the part he had taken in his elevation. Certain it is, that he pleaded indisposition, and desired to be excused attendance at the approaching ceremony. The King, however, was not to be deceived ; and he commanded his attendance, which the Duke gave ; but attended with such a magnificent and pompous train, that it effectually widened the breach. The next thing for Richard, was to look abroad, proper con- and to ascertain, in what manner his title was likely ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ to be recognized by foreign powers. His first step was to send an embassy to the King of France, respecting the league and tribute, which had been settled between him and his brother. — But the embassy was delayed, and did not arrive at their destination, till after the murder of the two Princes, whose death he had, in that short interval, con- trived and accomplished. It is impossible to dwell upon this tragical story. His Ambassadors were treated with the indignity which the conduct of their master deserved : and the King of France would not condescend to give them an audience. T / 274 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION II. Chap. VI. The Duke an J As so little support was to be expected from without, he determined to befriend himself. He proceeded to strengthen his usurped authority, by a second coronation, which he caused to take place at York ; at which time, also, he invested his Son wdth the principality of Wales. Eut these bright and flattering prospects were suddenly overcast with deepest gloom, by the death of this only son : whilst his throne itself, was undermined by the intrigues of the dissatisfied Buckingham. Under the colour of a feigned indisposition, he the Bishop of had retired to his castle at Brecknock, to brood Ely conspire. ^^^^ j^.^ ^^^^^g^^ jt ^yas uot loug bcforc his dis- satisfaction was discovered by his prisoner, the Bishop of Ely. The prudent Bishop sounded the Duke as to his own intentions respecting the crown, and finding that the Duke abandoned all his preten- sions, in favour of the Earl of Richmond, as the nearest heir to the house of Lancaster, it was agreed, that immediate steps should be taken to raise him to the throne. It was proposed by the Bishop as the most probable means of healing the distractions of England, to unite the two houses of York and Lancaster, by the marriage of the Earl of Richmond with Elizabeth, eldest daughter of the late King Edward lY. It was next deter- mined to treat with the Countess of Richmond, mother to the Earl ; and for this purpose, the Bishop proposed to send for a trusty servant of the Countess, whom he knew to be discreet and faith- I OP^ ENGLISH HISTORY. 275 Chap. VI. ful in matters of trust and importance. The name SECTION of this person was Reginald Gray ; and on his ar- H. rival, they gave him the following instructions to his mistress. * That considering the kingdom could not be reduced to quiet, but by advancing the Earl of Richmond to the crown, and uniting the two houses of York and Lancaster by marriage — that the Countess of Richmond should treat of this matter with Queen EKzabeth, and having ob- tained her eldest daughter, she should send into Bretagne to her son ; and if he promised to marry her, whenever he w^as crowned, they engaged by joining the forces of the faction to make him King.' This foundation being laid, the Bishop escaped into Flanders, where he was made the instrument of saving the scheme from destruction. The Queen w^as yet in sanctuary ; and the Countess of Richmond conveyed to her the instnictions she had received, through her physician. Ihe Queen was overjoyed at the proposal, and felt as if her misfortunes were about to receive a termination. But alas ! she was doomed to afford one of the most striking examples of woman s inconstancy. Messengers were immediately dispatched to the Earl, in Bretagne. He fully acquiesced in the plan, and, in .conjunction with the Duke of Bre- tagne, entered into active preparations, and for the present, sent over a very encouraging message. The adherents of the Earl of Richmond v;ere now, every where, in a state of activity ; and the 276 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. Civil War begins. SECTION Bishop of Ely, did much to forward the design 11. by his letters from Flanders. But although the greatest secresy was observed, yet the wary and jealous King was on his guard; and suspecting the Duke of Buckingham to be the prime mover of the disaffection which he could not fail to observe, he endeavoured more effectually to gain him by greater and more extravagant promises. But the Duke was not to be ensnared a second time, and sent continual excuses on account of indisposition. At length, the King dissatisfied with his eva- sions, sent him a peremptory command to appear before him. This was as peremptorily refused, and, became the immediate signal for war. The Marquess of Dorset, son to the Queen Dowager, left his sanctuary, and went into Lancashire, for the purpose of levying troops. In Devonshire and Cornwall, Sir Edw^ard Courtney and his brother, the Bishop of Exeter, were in arms ; and Sir Bichard Guilford was making preparations in Kent. The King understanding these movements, set out, at the head of his army, and marched to Shrewsbury, whilst the Duke of Buckingham, who was now about to receive the due reward of his past treachery and crimes, directed his course towards Gloucester, intending to pass the Severn, for the purpose of forming a junction with the other leaders of the party. But when he ap- t'- 1 OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 277 proached the banks of that river, he found it swollen SECTION to such an unusual degree, that the passage was ^^' impossible. The waters which were never known, ^^^J^^v^^ in the memory of man, to have risen to such a height, covered the neighbouring hills. The Duke was, therefore, necessarily detained ; which led to his ruin ; for, the sufferings of his army were so great, from the incessant rains and want of provi- sions — that with one consent, they disbanded themselves and returned home. The Duke thus deserted, instead of following their example, became infatuated ; and took refuge in the house of an old servant of the family, who was under infinite obligations to him ; and hoped there to find a safe asylum from the pursuit of his enemies. The other leaders hearing of the Duke's mis- r^^^ p^^^ ^^ fortune fled, and reached Bretagne in safety. Buckingham Whilst the King used the most vigorous methods for breaking up the conspiracy : he blockaded all the sea ports — fitted out a fleet to observe the motions of the Earl of Richmond ; and issued a proclamation of a general pardon, and one thou- sand pounds rew^ard, to any person who would deliver up the Duke of Buckingham. To his eternal disgrace. Bannister with whom he had secreted himself, betrayed his benefactor to the Sheriff of Shropshire, who apprehended the once high, and noble, and potent Duke, digging in a potatoe field, in the disguise of a day labourer ! perishes. 278 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION He was conducted to Shrewsbury, and the King It- denying him his presence, he was beheaded with- out process, in the Market-place. This brief campaign did nothing towards the furtherance of the great catastrophe of the reign, and seems intended, l)y the Almighty Governor, to exhibit, in the most open and public manner, the downfall and punishment of the proud, and treach- erous, and capricious Duke of Buckingham. He was allowed, and so far it was well for him, to re- trace his steps, to be the first mover in the restora- tion of the line of Lancaster ; but he was not count- ed worthy to behold it. So fall the wicked! Whilst these things were going on, and the Duke of Buckingham was receiving the due reward of his deeds — the Earl of Richmond had put to sea ; but his fleet, was dispersed by a storm. He stood however, towards the English shore, in hopes of hearing some intelligence respecting his adherents; but finding none to receive him — he retunied to Noraiandy. He there learnt the entire failure of the first attempt, and the death of the English leader. The party, however, did not despair of final success ; and in the Cathedral of Rennes, swore to the execution of the compact, as at first proposed ; and all present, gave their fealty to the Earl of Richmond, as King of England. Richard was not idle. In a parliament conve- ned in London, the Earl and his adherents were outlawed, and Iheir estates confiscated, v;hilst he i OF ENGLISH HISTORY himself determined, if possible, by arts of his own, to get the Earl into his possession. He sent a messenger to the Duke of Bretagne, entrusted with the most magnificent presents, and still more munificent promises — offering all Richmond- shire — all the Earl's revenues — and the estates of all those who had fled from England into Bre- tagne ! On the arrival of the ambassadors, the Duke of Bretagne was under the influence of a delirium to which he was subject; and the whole Dukedom was under the management of Peter Landoes, a name which has been before introduced to the reader. On both occasions, he was made the instrument of saving the future King of Eng- land, but in different ways. On the former occa- sion, as we have seen, the Earl was saved by his VIRTUE — on the present, by his avarice. The virtue of Peter Landoes was to be bought. He was captivated with the golden bribe of Richard. He did not forget his incapacitated master, but demanded Richmondshire for his ow^n share. It was thus necessary to write to England, for direc- tions. — This delay saved the Earl. The ever watchful Bishop of Ely became acquainted with their design, and gave as timely notice as he could, to the Earl of Richmond, who escaped into France ; but, so narrowly was his escape effected, that another hour would have proved his ruin. The attentive reader will pause, over the cir- cumstances of this transaction, in which he will 279 SECTION The Earl of Richmond pro- videntially sa- ved by Landoes who demands a whole district in the North Riding of Yorkshire. 280 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 281 Active mea- sures of the King. SECTION discern the hand of a controlling power, that can II- cause the wicked to be taken " in the crafty wili- Chap VI. ness which they have imagined " and can render the vices of men subservient to the purposes of his goodness. At Montargis, the Earl was joined by John Vere, Earl of Oxford, who, since the battle of Bamet had been confined in the Castle of Vannes. He not only contrived his own escape, but prevailed on Sir John Blunt the Governor of the Castle, and Sir John Fortesque, porter of Calais, to join the cause of Richmond. In the mean time, Bichard was incessantly employed in propping up his already tottering throne, and meditated schemes more and more heinous. The first was, to decoy the Queen Dowager and her daughter, into his hands — the second was, to rid himself of his wife, and the third, to marry his niece the Princess Elizabeth! It is not necessary to enlarge. He completely suc- ceeded in his first design. The Queen and the two Princesses left their sanctuary at Westminster and w^ere conducted, wdth great solemnity, to court. The destruction of his amiable and unhappy wife, was not quite so easy a task. Although he was seared in conscience, and brutal in disposition, yet he could not coolly contemplate the taking her life. She must have been lovely to disarm the rigour of his savage breast! Historians relate 'i that she was of a soft and tender disposition, and SECTION Bichard thought, by a little delay, he could destroy H. her by continued ill usage and neglect. He for- ^^Jit^;.^^ bore her company — refused to speak to her, and took every opportunity of agonizing her mind. This scheme it is thought, succeeded, although it is uncertain whether she was not taken off by poison. Thus was he well nigh the accomplishing of his schemes, and he was doubtless, allowed to proceed thus far, in order, the more signally, to display the avenging hand that pursued him ; which, whilst it gave the most unlimited range to his furious passions, was able by the simplest means, and, in a moment to check his furious career. We find him now congratulating himself on the success of dexterity, with w^hich he had executed his two ^^^ King infat- first schemes ; and without delay, he was proceed- ing to the marriage of his niece — the future hope of the peace of England — when the storm of ven- geance that was to overwhelm him, gathered so quickly, and grew so suddenly black about him, that his progress was interrupted. His crimes and his days were numbered. A slight advantage which he had obtained in the reduction of Han- nes Castle, and the reports he heard of the weak- ness of the Earl of Bichmond, disarmed him of his usual vigilance, and threw him off his guard. He recalled his fleet and disbanded his army. 282 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 283 SECTION The Earl of Richmond, who had experienced ^^' some disappointment in the backwardness of the Chap. VI. \,^^-\^^s^ French King to grant him supplies, was now at The Earl of Roannc with the chief of his adherents ; and to their Riciimond de- inexpressiblc mortification, they heard of the death i»ponds. ^ ' •' of the Queen, and of the immediate intention of the usurper to marry his niece. They were thrown by the intelligence into despair ; and after a solemn consultation, they concluded the further pursuit of their enterprize, rash, and its success, visionary. They were thus at the point of abandoning their project altogether, when they received intelligence that Rice-ap-Thomas and Captain Savage, two persons of considerable experience, were ready to declare for Richmond. This good news was, indeed but like a little cloud in the west — but it was the fore-runner of the destructive tempest. Wearied with delay and disappointment, they seized the hope, however slender, and determined to strike an im- mediate and resolute blow. They lost no time in embarking what forces they had : and, after seven days, landed at Milford Haven, from whence they advanced to West Hereford : and the Earl, hearing that his uncle, Jasper Earl of Pembroke, was at the head of a considerable body of men in Pem- brokeshire, he proceeded to Cardigan. His prospects This Earl of Pembroke seems to have been one brighten. Qf ^jjg most active and prudent men of any age or country ; and must be considered as having given the first impulse to the success of this expedition r.f M after it reached the shores of England. You never SECTION hear of this man, till you find him in action. Rich- II- Chap. VI. mond's army, thus augmented, directed its march ^^^-v-vL/ to Shrewsbury, where Sir Rice-ap-Thomas swore fealty to him. His next advance was to Newport, where Sir Gilbert Talbot joined him with two thou- sand men. At Stafford he fell in with Sir Gilbert Stanley. — But Lord Stanley who was at Lichfield, on the Earl's approach, drew off his men, lest the King should take vengeance upon his son, whom he held in possession, as a hostage. Richard was at Nottingham, and hearing of Th. King at the passage of the Severn, he thought it high ^'''^■^^^^^*'''- time to bestir himself. He advanced by forced marches, to Leicester, which place he entered at night-fall, on a white steed, and attended by his guards. His countenance, it is reported, was wild, and his language furious. Next day he hastened to meet his enemy, and receiving intelli- gence of his near approach, drew up his army in order of battle, near Market Bosworth. When the Earl of Richmond heard of this cariofRich- . 1 1 /» J 1 1 1 • r mond and Lord movement, he gave orders tor the breaking up 013^^^^,^.^^^^,^,^^^ his camp at Tamworth, and for the advance of his the Three Tuns troops. He himself was at Atherstone ; and the house is now shewn, where, the night previous to the battle, himself and Lord Stanley held a secret conference. That fatal day was now arrived ; and Richard . . . , . ^' drew out his army with great ability and precision. Atherstone. Battle of {osworth. ii 284 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 285 Chap. IV. SECTION He committed the van to the Duke of Norfolk, 11. the main body was led by himself, whilst Lord Stanley was posted between them, holding as it were, the balance of victory in his hands. The temporizing of Richard put this into his power. The King was, throughout, suspicious of Lord Stanley's fidelity, and threatened him, in case of treachery, with the immediate death of his son. Had he struck the blow, or delivered up his son, the conduct of Stanley would have been decided. He hesitated, till it was too late, for after the battle was set in array, Richard sent a message to Stanley, threatening the execution of his son, to which Stanley replied : ' Let him do as he likes, I have more sons than one.' By this answer he saved his son : for the King, perceiving his revolt at that time, would be fatal to his cause, durst not put his threat into execution. The Earl of Richmond committed the van of his army to the Earl of Oxford, — the right wing w^as placed under the conduct of Sir Gilbert Talbot. His left was commanded by Sir John Savage ; whilst himself and the Earl of Pembroke, took charge of the reserve. The battle soon became general, but there was a want of energy in the army of Richard, which, although he far outnumbered his adversary, soon manifested itself in the decided superiority of Richmond. Richard, like an enraged wild beast, ran furiously through his lines, endeavouring, in ^'^^ vain, to animate his lifeless troops ; and perceiving SECTION the Earl of Richmond, at a short distance, with a H. slight attendance, he rushed upon him with his v^^^^^^^^^ lance. The Earl rejoiced at the opportunity of meeting his antagonist, and was preparing to re- ceive him, but was prevented by his attendants. Richard disappointed of his prey rushed upon the great standard, and slew Sir W. Brandon, the standard bearer ; and advancing, bore down to the ground. Sir John Cheney, a knight of great strength and valour. At this point, his fury was stopped by the Earl of Richmond, who presented himself to him, sword in hand ; but at the same moment, the Lord Stanley who had been watching his opportunity, surrounded the King's squadron ; which Richard perceiving, like a chased boar driven to the last extremity, he rushed into the thickest of the fight, and perished like a second King Richard Cataline, with his sword grasped in his hand, and p*^"sh«s. with all the fury of revenge depicted in his coun- tenance. But this was not all. The retributory justice of Heaven did not end in hurling him at one blow, from the lofty seat of his guilty ambition, and cutting him off from the land of the living, in the prime of his days — but he was made an igno- minious spectacle in the sight of all men, and a lesson to all future generations: his dead body was plundered and stripped by the avaricious sol- diery, and his naked corpse thrown carelessly over a horse, was carried to Leicester ; where, for two \ fl 4 286 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION days, it lay exposed on the bare earth, as if it were II- beyond the pale of humanity — and, at last, as if ^^^A^;-^ out of the pale of Christendom, he was buried without funeral rites. Thus perished the last male descendant of the house of York ; of which, whilst in his own thoughts he was pursuing its aggrandisement, he in reality became the great extirpator. House of York. Tliis brauch of the royal house had undoubtedly the best claim to the crown ; but it must be appa- rent that its destruction was a felicitous event for England. The whole lineage w^as unprincipled — vicious, blood-thirsty, false, and inconstant. Their personal licentiousness, whilst it corrupted by its example, obliged them to wink at the crimes of others ; and, the laxity with which they held the reins of government, although attended in the result, with advantage to our constitutional liberty, yet inflicted great temporary evils upon the com- munity. It is evident the family was too flagiti- ous to live ; and in consistency with the divine system and moral government of the workl, they were cut off from the earth. The battle of Bos worth, was the thirteenth, and last of the civil wars, which had lasted for thirty years ; and in which, according to an eminent historian,* there perished eighty Princes of the blood — HOSTS of the nobilitv, and 0}ie hundred thousand of the common people. * Comincs. If OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 287 To the dear bought experience of this period, may SECTION be traced the downfall of the feudal power by the 11. destruction of the aristocracy, and the full estab- ,^Z^^\J^ lishment of that great principle of the English Progress of constitution — the hereditary succession of the ^^^ ^*^""^^y- crown, which succeeding statesmen have guarded with jealous care ; and to which, as long as a sane person is at the head of her policy, this country will inviolably adhere. We observe also, during the irregular transac- tions of this time, the growing importance attach- ed to parliament. It was incessantly appealed to by both parties ; and became the arbiter among Kings, of their power and their thrones. But the times gave encouragement and influ- ence to a more formidable power than parliament — the middle and lower classes of the people. To them, both parties were obliged to sue for the purpose of asserting their claims ; and in conse- quence, flattered and indulged them. The yoke of feudal slavery was greatly alleviated ; and the growth of the middling and lower classes of the community, must be regarded as receiving a great and effectual impulse from this date. We may further add, that the authority of the crown, became paramount and undisputed, not only from the series of victories which the sovereigns had obtained — but by the immense slaughter of the nobility, and the confiscation of their estates, which crippled their power, and made them less able to compete with the supreme authority. 46* 288 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY I SECTION II. Chap. VI. » I W Nor was learning without its ornaments. We may record the names of Basset, Walsingham, Lyttleton, Fortesque. But more than all, this age gave birth to the art of Printing, which was brought into England by William Caxton, a mercer of London, whose first Printing press was set to work in the Ahhey of Westminster^ 1471. Its Popish Masters at that time, little thinking, that that simple machine w^as to be the great instrument of their overthrow. We can say little respecting religion. Popery, without any open opposition, retained its dark dominion over the minds of men — but the doctrines of the immortal Wicliffe, watered by the blood of martyrs, was taking deep, but silent root in the hearts of thousands ; and were only waiting a favor- able opportunity to burst forth and adorn the land. We evidently perceive, that if great civil per- fection had not been a^ttained by our country, that mighty preparations were making for its future destination ; and w^e shall not be disappointed in the succeeding era of our history at the progress which it attained. And we shall further perceive, w^hilst evils of such magnitude were transacting and bringing swift punishment upon the immedi- ate actors — the main interest of the nation was secured, by HIM " w hose paths, are in the SEA, AND whose JUDGMENTS ARE IN THE GREAT DEEP." THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY, &c. SECTION III. CHAPTER I. HENRY VII. — UNION OF THE HOUSES OF YORK AND LANCASTER CONSOLIDATION OF THE KINGDOM — « ESTABLISHMENT OF THE SOVEREIGN POWER. r The time had now arrived when the Almighty SECTION Governor, after having severely punished the HI. whole nation, was intending to raise its drooping ^t^^^ head — to give a more rapid impulse to its pros- Henry vn. parity, and, to cause it to stand forth more promi- p'"'*^^^'™^^ _ ^ King, Aug. 22. nently, as an exemplar state. For this end ad. uss. He raised up an individual, eminently fitted for the intended work, — a man of great capacity, deep penetration, unwearied diligence, unshaken cou- rage, habitual temperance, and, as all such men are, — deeply embued with religious reverence. Like William the Conqueror, he had not, in his early years, been fondled on the lap of ease; but nurtured for great deeds, amidst hardships and dangers. u II 290 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION 111. Chap. I. Whoever considers the extraordinary manner in which his life was, more than once, preserved — the unlikely means by which his elevation was secured, and the personal fitness with which he entered upon it, will not fail to perceive in the steps by which he was led to the throne, the high and superintending Providence of God. What could have been more improbable than such an event, during the reign of Edward IV. in whom centred all the glory of the house of York ? What more improbable on the death of that Prince, who left behind him two sons and a daughter — two sisters and two nephews ^ We have, indeed, seen how the way was opened by Richard III. in order to gratify his own lust of ambition ; and how sig- nally his crimes were punished by the just Arbiter of human affairs : and now we perceive the same Supreme Being " educing good out of evil, " and raising up the fittest man in the world, for the purpose of carrying on the scheme of his bene- volence. During his long exile, he had both time and Bretagne. opportunity for making observation, and medita- ting upon the affairs of England. — Nor did he neglect the opportunity. He was well acquainted with the evils which harrassed his country ; and long before he reached its shores, he had formed those schemes for remedying them, which he, afterwards, so vigorously carried into execution. His Exile in OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 291 He was now about thirty years of age, and w^as SECTION considered the representative of the house of Lan- ^^^' 1 Chap. I. caster — but for what reason, the line of his sue- ^^x^v^x^ cession has been called the House of Tudor, it is not easy to determine. — His father, Edmund Earl of Richmond, was son to Owen Tudor and Catharine, the Queen and widow of Henry IV. — This de- scent could not possibly have made his father the heir of the house of Lancaster, or given him a title to the crown of England. The claim of Henry, arose from the marriage of his father with Mar- garet, youngest daughter of the Duke of Somerset, who was grandson to the Duke of Lancaster ; so that, if the succession is to have a name, it ought to be denominated the " House of Somerset." The great principles on which this distinguished Principles of Monarch had determined to conduct his srovern- ""'"'^'^ ° Government ment were law and policy ; his designs for estab- lishing the foundations of the British Monarchy, as they had been long and deliberately formed, 60 were they carried into execution with unusual promptness and perseverance. After the battle of Bosworth, he proceeded by easy stages, to London — not as a conqueror, but as a long recognized King, who was making a pro- gress through his dominions — and he entered the capital City, not with military pomp, but in a close carriage, amidst the acclamations of the multitude. The proclamation of a general pardon gave uni- versal satisfaction. At Saint Paul's, he offered t '7 292 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 293 h SECTION solemn thanksgiving to God ; and the " Te Deum" in. was chaunted in demonstration of the public joy. .^^^■^^I.^^ His prudence and foresight were discovered in Houses of the very commencement of his reign, by resolving ca°terTniter ^^* ^^ allow his claim to the throne, to depend solely upon his marriage with the princess Eliza- beth, which he saw would be attended with many serious inconveniences, both to himself, and the peace of the country. Elizabeth was the sole sur- viving representative of the House of York ; and the nation, wearied with its long dissentions, was extremely anxious for her union with Henry, and all men felt a deep interest in the final settlement of the question. Whilst therefore he quieted the minds of the nobility and the people, by renewing, in the most solemn manner, his intention of mar- rying the heiress of the House of York, and putting an end to all distinctions for the future, he caused himself to be crowned, alone, on the title of the House of Lancaster. Henry roar- After his corouation, he fulfilled his pledge, and nes the Pnn- jj^^j^^^ EHzabcth I au cvcut which created uni- cess Elizabetbi versal joy, and filled all hearts with gladness.* — It was indeed a happy consummation for England, and brought about by a series of events, contrary to all human expectation and hope ! Yet the King's unconquerable aversion to the House of York, deeply affected his conduct towards his Queen ; and indeed, to the whole of her family. By his unjust and implacable conduct, he embit- * Bacon Hist. 7. V' (> •j tered all her domestic enjoyments, and in his SECTION public capacity he was severely punished, by the II*- intrigues of two illustrious females of that still ^^^-^^^-^^ persecuted house, — the Duchess of Burgundy, sis- ter to Edward IV. residing in Flanders, and his scheme to august widow, mother of Queen Elizabeth. The P^''^^°°^f '^'' ^ ' ... Earl of War- latter, soon commenced her machinations against wick. the peace of her son-in-law, by forming a shallow scheme, the whole narration of which, is unworthy the dignity of History ; and would, certainly, find no place here, were it not to shew, that folly and pride generally prepare the means for their own correction. Her design was to find some one to personate the Earl of Warwick, who was the nearest male heir to the throne, and who had been made prisoner by Richard III. and was, by an unjust and mistaken policy, still confined in the Tower. This unfortunate young man w^as son to the late Duke of Clarence, brother to Edward IV. In his case, the crimes of the father were still punished in the son, who was imprisoned from his earliest days, and came to an early and violent death, for no other reason, but, because he was the son of the Duke of Clarence ; and had in consequence, a near relation to the throne. The Queen and her counsellors were not long in finding a person who bore some resemblance to the family ; and was of equal age to the unfortu- nate youth in the Tower. He was trained and instructed, with great care, for the part he was to act ; and with great success, so far as persona- iM 294 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 293 li SECTION tion was concerned. — But the scheme itself, had ^W- nothing to rest upon ; the true Earl of Warwick, was in the Tower, and the King could demonstrate it, which he did, by shewing him openly to the people. The plot, however, was sent on its pro- gress ; and Ireland was to be the first scene of trial. Many in that country, were deceived by his pretensions ; and amongst the rest, the Earl of Kildare. — ^But the principal victim in this fool- ish enterprize, was the next heir of York, after the Earl of Warwick ! — This was the Earl of Lincoln, son of Elizabeth the sister of Edward IV. a youth of an enterprising spirit, martial talents, and ambitious aims. He eagerly rushed into the scheme, and making use of the Pretender as his tool, he trusted, amidst the horrors and confusion of civil war, to be able to guide the storm and se- cure himself on the throne. Assisted by his aunt, the Duchess of Burgundy, with money and a con- siderable body of Germans, and attended by the pretended Warwick, who was proclaimed and crowned as King ; he advanced as far as Stoke in Nottinghamshire. In this place, he was met by Henry ; his army was routed and himself slain. — The just reward of his ambition and perfidy ! Many other restless spirits fell with him, as Kildare, Lovell, and Broughton ; whilst the counterfeit Warwick, was appointed to a menial ofiice in the King*s household ; and the Queen Dowager con- fined to a nunnery, the rest of her days. I) The King had commenced and studiously pur- SECTION sued his plan of enriching his Exchequer. The I^^- Chap. I. supplies granted by Parliament, were rigidly col- v^^-v^-x^ lected, which caused loud complaints, ^nd at length, broke out into insurrection in Yorkshire, and Cornwall. But these commotions — the rem- nant of those turbulent times which had just pas- sed away, though truly formidable, were dispersed as much by the King's policy, as by the force of his arms. The account of this reign by historians, and even Affairs of by Hume, is much engrossed with the affairs of ^jj^^^^^j^^'^^ng's France : by the details of which, a great deal of attention. .AD. 1487. French dissimulation and treachery are manifest. But the whole of these transactions, as they lead to nothing important in the affairs of England, may be dispensed with in few words — Henry ob- tained supplies from his Parliament — ^led an army into France — compelled the French King to pay his expenses — concluded peace and returned home. Soon after the King s return, a singular and ;^mbassador important embassy arrived from Spain, to inform fiom s^ain. him of the expulsion of the Moors, by the victorious arms of Ferdinand and Isabella ; and of a still more glorious event, the discovery of America, by Christopher Columbus, under the same enterpri- sing Sovereigns. This latter event is w^orthy of a more minute examination, and would, no doubt, develop, in a remarkable manner, the overruling Providence of the Jlost High — but we must re- 296 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY CllAP. 1. Queen's Col- r SECTION frain, because it belongs to the history of Spain, III. or rather of the world. On the occasion of this embassy, solemn thanksgivings were offered in the cathedral of Saint Paul. But unfortunately, Henry was his own tormen- tor. His steady and unrelenting persecution of the House of York, served to keep that party in a constant state of excitement and the close con- finement of the Earl of Warwick, filled the nation with disgust ; whilst his uncompromising severity in the administration of the law and the levying of the taxes, rendered the unruly and avaricious, ever ready to disturb his government. The Queen-mother was now dead, and far re- icge foupdcd. moved from those scenes of trouble in which she had been engaged ; but her life was prolonged till she had completed the foundation of Queen's Col- lege, Cambridge, which had been commenced by that noble-spirited woman, Margaret, Queen of Henry YI. But there was another distinguished female of Duchess of that house still surviving, endued with much Burgundy, greater abilities, and formed for deeper intrigues, instructs War- ° ^ • ^i • ij. J bfck, w^ho was determmed not to permit the msults and A. D. 1192. injuries offered to her family to pass without revenge. This was the Duchess of Burgundy. She laid her schemes accordingly ; but however skilful and full of mischief they might be, they were laid for her own mortification, and the fur- ther punishment of her devoted family. I OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 297 Chap. I. Under her tuition, a youth of the name of SECTION Warbeck was instructed to personate the Duke of I^^- York, son to Edward the IV. and the younger of the brothers, murdered by order of Richard III. His education was conducted with the greatest secresy and success: By the artifices of the Duchess, he was acknowledged by the King of France, and treated as a Royal personage. King James of Scotland, not only received him as the legitimate heir to the English Throne— but gave him a noble and beautiful lady for his wife, who was a near kinswoman of his own. But the policy of Henry frustrated the whole of this well laid plot. He had a spy in the closet of the Duchess herself; and in the councils of the Personator. He be- came acquainted, familiarly, with every circum- stance and event of Warbeck's history ; and with the names of all the English nobility, who favored the scheme. The most conspicuous person that, fell an easy victim to this plot was Sir W. Stanley, Lord High Chamberlain, the very person who turned the scale of victory at Bosworth Field ; and who till then, stood deservedly high in the opinion of Henry. Warbeck obstinately continued the imposture, and, for some years, kept the King's mind in a constant state of uneasiness. At length he landed in Cornwall, determined to make a grand effort for his cause. He was defeated near Exeter, by Henry, to whom he made a full con- it i If 298 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 299 I Warwick exe cuted, which ended the Plantaganets. A. D. 1499. |i SECTION fession, on which account, his life was spared, in. and he was confined to the Tower. Chap. I. -g^^ ^^ ^^^-^ ^^^^ circumstancc, I mean the par- don of the Impostor, was to turn the punishment The Earl of of the Duchcss of Burguudy, for her studied revenge and falsehood. The restless spirit of Warbeck, induced him to intrigue with his keep- ers, and through them, with the Earl of Warwick ; a plot was laid, in which the Governor of the Tower was to be assassinated and their escape secured. But it was prevented, and not only War- beck suffered, but the miserable Earl of Warwick, the last remnant of the House of York, was sacrificed ! — Not really for this meditated escape, but for another reason, which I would gladly pass over, had not the Hand of God as the just avenger of crime, been afterwards recognised by one of the indirect actors concerned in it. Policy of the Thc policy of the King had been altogether triumphant. He was a man endued with the most eminent courage, but his study was Peace ; and when violent measures were proposed to him, he w^as accustomed to answer: ''When the Son of God came into the world. Peace was sang*; when he w^ent out of it. Peace was bequeathed." His great object was attained ; and peace and tran- quility succeeded his labours, and smiled, propiti- ous, on the happy land ; whilst his reputation, for wasdom and prudence, at this period of his life, stood pre-eminent amongst the Potentates of the earth. King. We are now approaching the consideration of SECTION events, which, if not in themselves of striking ^^^"-^ moment, yet involve in the course of time, results ,^^-v^x^ of surpassing magnitude. The first important transaction to which our ^ ^^^^""^^J^.^^ attention is directed, is the marriage of Prince Jp7i„,e Arthur, who was now sixteen years of age, with Arthur.^^ the Infanta of Spain— an alliance which Henry ^ ^ * ^goi. had long coveted, as well for its political advan- tages, as for the costly dower with which the Princess was to be accompanied. But it was an unhappy marriage, and no wonder, for it was ce- mented with blood ! The ostensible reason for the execution of the Earl of Warwick, and the plea which was alleged, was his premeditated escape with AYarbeck ; but the real and impulsive cause, was the determination of the King of Spain, not to allow his daughter to marry, whilst Warwick was alive ! This fact was asserted many years after by the Infa7ita herself] when greater troubles assailed her— as the ground and reason of her mis- fortunes.— She acknowledged in her sufferings, the retributory hand of the Most High, saying : " It was no wonder that God should make her "so unfortunate in her marriages, inasmuch as " they were both sealed with the blood of AVar- " wick." Prince Arthur died within six months of his Prince Arthur , , dies. marriage, but the King had another son ; and he determined if possible, not to lose the valuable \ i. 1 300 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 301 Chap. I. His widow married to Prince Henry. SECTION prize which had been put into his hands, and he HI' insisted that his younger son, afterwards the renowned Henry VIII. should be contracted to his brother's widow. This alliance was much against the stripling's will ; and he opposed the paternal authority, as far as a boy of twelve years of age could be supposed capable of opposition. But in vain. The Infanta of Spain, was in proper time married to Henry, now the heir apparent to the English throne ; and upon the circumstances of this marriage turned in after time, the Refor- mation of the Church of England ! The influence it had, so many years after, upon that ever-memo- rable event, could not have been exerted, had it not been for the Infanta's previous marriage with Prince Arthur. This was the pretext upon which Henry founded his appeal for a divorce. Catha- rine was an excellent Queen and most exemplary woman : and no other plea could have been devi- sed, as she was free from every stain of dishonor. It was this fact, which had originated in very different intentions, and which had no connection or similarity with the result, that enabled Henry VIII. to shake the Papal throne to its foundations, and to rescue the Church of England from its long-usurped and tyrannical sway ! The King's But a similar event was about to follow, which r^d°^to^re*^ ^^^ intended in the overruling counsels of Heaven, King of Scot- still more to secure the prosperity of England. *A.D 1502. "^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ marriage of James, King of Scot- land, with Henry's eldest daughter — an alliance SECTION which, in after times, was to give a succession of 1W« . . Chap I Princes to the English throne — afford stability to ,^^-v^^/ the realm, and affix the name of Great Britain to the Island. This contract was a splendid politi- cal act ; and it is worthy of remark, that whilst the subject was under discussion at the wary council board of Henry VII. it was suggested by one of the Councillors — that, probably, if the King's sons should die without issue, the Kingdom of England might devolve to the King of Scotland, to the prejudice of the English monarchy. To this the prudent Monarch with prophetic sagacity replied — that if such a circumstance should happen, Scotland ivould become an accession to England, not England to Scotland^ because the greater would certainly draw the less. Whilst the King was thus promoting foreign improvements alliances, and laying strong foundations for the '" ^.^*^^'^y stability and splendour of the throne, he was not inattentive to the welfare and prosperity of the body politic. By his well directed efforts, he changed entirely the balance of power in the state ; and gave the fullest impulse to the growth of the middle orders in England, which at this day, form its greatest stability and wealth. It was his leading policy to restrain the licentiousness, and abridge the power of the nobility, which he did, not by the strength of his own prerogative, which was fluctuating in its nature — but by the provi- I 302 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 303 SECTION sions of Law, which are permanent. He went to ni. the root of deep and intolerable evils, which had ^^^S^^^l^^ long oppressed the land. He caused a law to be enacted, by which the lands of the Barons were made alienable, — a law which was intended to cause their exorbitant power to crumble to pieces, of itself. His next endeavour was, to bind the tenant more to the soil, than to the fortunes of his Lord ; and he caused certain proportions of land to be al- lotted for tillage, in order that the comforts of the husbandman being increased, he might less easily be seduced by his master, to quit the ploughshare for the sword, and leave his tranquil employments for the purpose of disturbing the public peace. And the more effectually to cripple the present power of the nobility — a law was enacted, by which the multitude of their retainers was abridg- ed, and a certain specified number allowed. King's visit Au auccdotc in reference to this subject is to the Earl of j.g|^^g^ q£ ^^le King, which, as it has a tendency to illustrate his character, is worth retaining. The King had honored the Earl of Oxford his prime minister, with a vist at Henningham Castle, where he was entertained with great splendor, and hospitality. To greet the King on his departure, the Earl assembled all, that by any title held land of him — gentlemen, yeomen, and retainers. As the King passed through the long line of vassals, he enquired of the Earl, whether these were all I Chap. 1. his servants : to which the Earl with a smile SECTION returned : ' they were his tenants and retainers.* "L The King then thanked him for his entertain- ment, saying that the report of his hospitality did not even reach the truth — but, looking round, he added : " I cannot allow my laws to be broken in my presence, my attorney must talk with you about it," and the Prime Minister was obliged to compound for this breach of the law, with no less a sum, than fifteen thousand marks. It is impossible to estimate, too highly, the effect of his salutary enactments on the state of our present policy. He was laying the foundation of a mighty monarchy, and raising the scaffolding for the completion of a magnificent edifice, which was to be an Exemplar among states. — Its con- struction was not that of a baseless fabric, liable to be disturbed by every gust of fortune : but formed to endure ; built on Law, and cemented by Justice. His act against the arbitrary enclosure of land, which had caused great local distress, by depopu- lating large districts, is, deservedly, celebrated for its wisdom. It both served to check the nobility, and to encourage the growth of the lower orders of society. In short, it was now that the strong links, which, in the system of feudalism, had bound together the elements of society, were severed^ that the illusive glory of chivalry vanished, and the foundations of rational freedom and solid im- provement, were laid. 304 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY, 305 SECTION HL Chap. I. The King next turned his attention to the pa- trimony of the crown, which had, during the civil wars, fallen into great disorder. Leases of con- siderable length had been granted, and the exi- gency of public affairs preventing all enquiry, the individuals in possession, considered the lands as their own, and devised them as if they were held in fee simple. To rectify these abuses, and, to call into operation many wholesome laws, which had fallen into disuse, the King issued one of those commissions of inquiry, which are always odious to the people of this Country, and which nothing can justify but urgent necessity. Commissions The powcr with which these commissions are unpopular. ncccssarily armed, being unconstitutional and ar- bitrary, few of those persons who have been se- lected to carry them into execution, have escaped the temptation they offer, for the exercise of tyr- anny and rapacity. In the present instance, the names of Empson and Dudley, have become justly execrable, for the manner in which they conducted this inquiry ; their cruelty, rapacity, and tyranny excited the indignation of the whole kingdom; whilst, their intolerable pride hurried them on to acts of the most illegal and arbitrary char- acter, which, in the following reign, ended in their own destruction. But the policy of the King was answered : — the laws were enforced, and the executive was forti- fied and enriched— wealth flowed into his treasury, Chap. L not from this only, but from many other sources ; SECTION until, at length, he was acknowledged to be the W. richest Prince in Europe. But he was not laying up treasures for himself, but for the nation — His, were not the accumulations of avarice, but of fore- sight and enlarged views ! He had perceived the misery and ruin to which the throne had frequently been exposed for want of a well furnished exche- quer, and it was his policy, to the utmost of his power, to guard against this evil for the future, But in reality, it was for another purpose which he never contemplated. All this wealth was abso- lutely necessary for carrying on the great event which will soon be before us ; and indeed enabled the executive power, in the succeeding reign, to stem the torrent of opposition which was opposed to it. Whilst then, it is certain, that the King was actuated with the desire of aggrandizing the Mo- narchy ; it is not impossible, that he might have been gratifying a more ignoble passion, which, indeed all historians attribute to him. I confess I do not. I cannot trace its low bred, insidious working, in the great events of his reign; nor will I be so ungenerous as to record without sufficient proof, that his great mind was a prey to the de- basing crime of avarice. If he was eager to accumulate wealth, he was princely in bestowing it upon noble objects ; and he freely left it to be enjoyed by his successor.— These are not the 'i 306 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION characteristics of avarice. But be this as it may, in. his accumulating policy was overruled for greater s,^^-^^^^^ purposes, than ever entered into his calculation — purposes, intimately connected with the scheme of the Divine benevolence, and rendered, as an instrument, greatly subservient to their accom- plishment. Not that Henry, on this account, is excusable for the wrongs he committed. — These, in the Divine Judgement, stand recorded against him : nor, was he himself insensible to the claims of justice. The loud complaints against the rapa- ciousness of his ministers reached his ears; the ministers of religion from the pulpit exhorted him to interfere ; and he was so far open to con- viction, as to order a clause to be inserted in his will, for the purpose of making restitution to all, who had been unjustly deprived by the rigorous inquisition of his officers. A circumstance now occurred, which, although it relates to a private individual, must not be omitted, because it has a tendency to discover the retributorv Providence of God. I allude to the public execution of that barbarous instrument in murder. Sir Walter Tyrrell. Earl of suf- The pcrsou whose birth entitled him to be folk leaves the ggcQ^^ to thc King, in cminencc, was Edmund, Kingdom. ^ • i Earl of Suffolk, the heir and representative of the house of York. — But he was a person of a proud and haughty disposition ; and on some occasion, in the heat of his resentment, he committed homi- K^ i OK ENGLISH HISTORY. 307 Chap. I. cide. '' He flattered himself in his own eyes," and SECTION thought of committing this flagrant act with im- H^ punity ; but, he was in some measure, mistaken ; for, whilst the King promised him a pardon, he insisted that, he should go through the form- ality of a trial, and receive the sentence of ihe law. Irritated at this, w^hich he esteemed an indignity, be fled from the kingdom and took refuge in Flan- ders, with his relative the Duchess of Burj?undv. But the King, fearing lest his residence there, should be the cause of new disturbances, had re- course to his never failing policy ; and by fair speeches and large promises, prevailed upon him to return. After the lapse of a few years, the Earl was a second time, induced to leave the kingdom a second time, and ^' ^' ^^^^^ under such circumstances as afforded strong sus- picion of treasonable designs. The King imme- diately applied himself to those methods, which he had found so successful on former and similar occasions. Through the instrumentality of Sir Robert Curzon, governor of Calais, he became fully apprised of all the circumstances, connected with the Earl's departure, and acquainted with the names of all the eminent persons in England, who favored his evil intentions. Amongst these was Sir Walter Tyrrell. Many other persons of distinc- tion were implicated ; but the fatal lot fell only upon two — Sir Walter Tyrrell and Sir John Wynd- *^1 308 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION liam, who were brought to the scaffold and be- lli, headed as traitors. With the character of Sir John ^"*''- ^- Wyndham we are unacquainted ; but we cannot fail to recognize in the untimely and infamous death of Sir. Walter Tyrrell, the just vengeance of an Almighty hand, which will not suffer the guilty to escape. It will be necessary to observe, in connexion with this event, because the sub- ject will again be brought before us, that the Earl of Suffolk by a strange concurrence of cir- cumstances was secured, and lodged by Henry, in the Tower ! Henry had now reigned more than twenty years, and concluded his long and able system of state policy, by affiancing his daughter the Prin- ces Mary, to Charles of Spain, afterwards the celebrated Emperor Charles V. It was on this occasion, that he said, on a review of the various alliances he had been enabled to form — " I think I have built a wall of brass around my kingdom." And which indeed was true. In the wisdom and prudence of his administration he surpassed all the Princes of Europe, and has justly acquired for himself the appellation of the " Solomon of England." He had now completed his well-laid plans, and accomplished his utmost wishes. He had frus- trated the designs, and ruined the projects of his enemies. He had repaired all the breaches of hatred, contention, and strife, which had been The King's health declines A. D. 1507. 1 4 OF ENGLISH HISTORY. created by the civil wars. He had enriched the public treasury to an immense extent, so that he was not only reported to be the wisest, but the richest Prince in Christendom. He had multi- plied to the people, both the means and conveni- ences of living. He protected the arts. He had extended commerce; he encouraged enterprise, and to conclude the acts of his public beneficence, he furnished and endowed the ancient Palace of the Lancastrians in the Savoy, for a Metropolitan Hospital ; nor should it in this place be omitted in honor to the memory of his mother, Margaret, Duchess of Richmond, that by her generosity, aided by her Son, the colleges of Christ's and Saint John's were founded in the University of Cam- bridge. Whilst the splendid Chapel in West- minster Abbey, which bears his name, will long continue a noble monument of his taste and muni- ficence. His physical powers were in unison with the qualities of his mind. He possessed great strength and vigour of l)ody, and is said to have been remarkable for the beauty of his person, and the attraction of his manners. His regard for religion was simple and uniform, without ostentation on the one hand, or supersti- tion on the other ; and it is remarkable that, the father of Henry VIII. received more marked and signal honors from the Popes of Rome, than any individual Monarch. He was thrice elected, in 309 SECTION III. Chap. I. 31Q THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 311 SECTION ^^^ several Pontificates of Alexander VI. Pius III, III. and Julius II. " Chief defender of Christ's Chap, l Church," in preference to all other Christian Kings; and, in the year preceding his death, and in virtue of this title^ he received as a present from Pius II. a cap of maintenance and a sw^ord, as badges of this high distinction. So little can the foresight of the most politic statesmen scan the changes which await their most favorite projects in a few revolving years. How little could these subtle Potentates of Rome ; have foreseen that the immediate Son and succes- sor of the man they '^ delighted to honor," would be the first to break their usurping yoke, and to annihilate every vestige of their power and authority in England ! But the w^ork of Henry VII. was now accom- plished, and he must yield up the sceptre he had so much honored, to other hands, which should carry into execution those great measures, for which he had made such extensive preparations, without having the least perception of their character. The work to be accomplished, and for which he had been laying the deep foundations, w-as the reform of the Church of England, w^hich neither he, nor his successor contemplated. But, both, were fitting instruments in the hands of Him, who in a prophetic vision, said of the all'^conquer-^ ing Cyrus : " That saith of Cyrus, he is my Chap. I. His death. A. D. 150D. shepherd, and shall perform all my pleasure, even SECTION saying to Jerusalem, Thou shalt be built, and to M^- the Temple, Thy foundations shall be laid." * In like manner, Henry VII. of England, en- dowed and fortified by divine power to carry on the designs of the Eternal Providence, having w^ith signal prudence aggrandized both his kingdom and family, now approached the end of his course at the early age of fifty three, with dignity and composure. He consecrated the few remaining days of his life to acts of charity and devotion, and wath solemn seriousness awaited the final hour,-]* when he should be summoned by the Supreme Governor, to lay down his delegated authority, and to exchange time for eternity. * Isaiah xl. 28. f April 2. ■f OF ENGLISH HISTORY 313 SECTION III.— CHAPTER II. HENRY Vni REJECTION OF THE AUTHORITY OF THE POPE, AND ESTABLISHMENT OF POLITICAL PRO- TESTANTISM. SECTION On the death of Henry YIL, the importance of HI. his persevering policy began to appear ; and the ^^^^\^^^ course of national events forthwith rushed to their Henry VIII. accompHshment. His prudence, wisdom, and A. I). 1509. . 1 . , . -, experience were gone ; but m their place, suc- ceeded vigour, dispatch, and enterprise. His son who now mounted the throne, was in the pride of youth, and adorned with every manly and noble grace. He was endowed with uncommon abilities, and with such variety of temper and disposition, that he is said to have inherited and united in him- self, all the good and bad qualities of the two Houses of York and Lancaster. In personal en- dowments he was unrivalled. — He was tall, and ^ li Chap. II. majestic ; — and, possessed of such remarkable SECTION strength and agility, that few w^ould venture to in. contend with him in the joust, or oppose him in the tournament. To these external advantages, was added a con- siderable share of the abstruse learning of that day, which, combined with the lighter and more attractive accomplishments of poetry and music, gave a captivating polish to his character. In the commencement of his reign, he discov- ered a remarkable modesty and noble ingenuous- ness of mind ; and under the direction of his grand- mother, the Duchess ofjlichmond, with the advice of the wise counsellors bequeathed to him by his father, the acts of his Government were distin- guished by prudence and moderation. He had now an opportunity, if he had pleased, to have broken off the contract of marriage into which he had been urged against his will, with Catharine, the Infanta of Spain, and widow to his brother Arthur. Indeed, the way had been opened to him by his father, who on his death bed stated his doubts as to the propriety of pro- ceeding with it. But the desire of the young Monarch to fulfil, what he considered the delib- erate judgment and long cherished design of his father, prevailed over every consideration; and within six weeks of his father's death, on the third of June, his marriage with the Infanta was solemnized. The coronation took place, on the t * 314 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY > deeds. SECTION midsummer day following, with great magnifi- ni. cence ; and attended with every circumstance of Chap. II. i i« i* 'x ,^^^-.,^^^^ pomp and testivity. His next object was to fulfil that clause of his Father's will, which enjoined a general pardon, and restitution of property to all who might have Empson and bccu uujustly wrougcd by the extortions of his forthdrevu ^ffic^^!^- To houor the triumph of this general pardon, Empson and Dudley, were committed to the Tower. The King by no means, intended their execution. But their injustice and rapaci- ousness demanded the heaviest doom. The Par- liament which was immediately summoned, was led to institute a strict inquiry into their proceed- ings, and to abolish many of the obnoxious statutes under which they had acted. The imprisonment of these unfortunate commissioners, so far from satisfying the people, only made them more importunate for their capital punishment, and the King was obliged to comply. How short some- times is the interval between pride and its over- throw, between injustice and its punishment ! By this sacrifice to the national will, and by the abolishing of many arbitrary fines, the King acquired the universal admiration of his subjects. His youthful ardour, his skill and ability in chiv- alrous exercises, his shining endowments and ardent pursuits of literary knowledge, attracted the attention of the nobility, who fired by his illustrious example, entered into a generous and OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 315 1 t successful emulation ; whilst foreign Princes hear- SECTION ing of the splendor and elegance of his court, were HL induced to cultivate his friendship and alliance. ^^^^^^^"0 Such were the commanding auspices under which Henry VIII. commenced his reign. Con- gratulations on his accession, poured in from every side. Embassies crowded to his shores from the most powerful Monarchs of Europe. It will be necessary to introduce these personages to the reader, because they will be chief actors in the scenes, which are about to open before us, and the influence of some of them will be largely ex- erted on the transactions of this reign. Lewis XII. King of France, engaged as he was Princes and in the pursuit of territorial ambition, lost no time p^^opT^'^ in soliciting Henry for the continuance of peace. James IV. of Scotland, who had married the King's sister, hastened to congratulate him, and to assure him of his esteem and regard. Ferdi- nand of Spain was anxious to oljtain his assist- ance against the Moors. The Emperor Maximil- lian was equally anxious to secure him as a friend and ally. The King of Denmark solicited a treaty of trade and commerce ; whilst Pope Julius II. earnestly entreated for effectual aid against the encroachments of the French in Italy, offering to constitute Henry the head of the ** Italian League." Such were the several powers under whose sway the destinies of Europe were then conducted, and by their unanimous consent, Henry i 316 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPPIY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 317 A. D lolO. !l ! SECTION at the opening of his reign, was exalted as the in. Arbiter of European affairs, and the " Balance of rower placed in his hands. His penetrating mind perceived the lofty station to which he had been raised by the election of his compeers. His ardent temperament would not permit him to reject the offered distinction, and his wealth and ability enabled him to hold the pre-eminence, generally, with honor to himself and his country. Indeed, it was the commence- ment of a new era in European politics, and England was called to occupy a position, in her advances from which, she has never since retreated. The political scene now opens. The King's first step was to answer the solicitations of the Pope ; and he dispatched Bambridge, Archbishop of York to make arrangements with the Sovereign Pontiff. But his Holiness was in need of more effectual assistance than the counsel of an Arch- bishop ; for, the French had advanced their con- quests in Italy ; and had now invested Bognonia, where the Pope himself was confined with sick- ness ; and, after a brief resistance, the place was obliged to surrender on very severe conditions. This success of the French arms, created general alarm, and it was determined to check its further advance. For this purpose, Henry imme- diately entered into an alliance with Ferdinand, the King of Spain. ?1 / V Battle of Flod- ' den Field. It would not be necessary for me, in a history SECTION of this kind, to cause a digression by narrating a JH. trifling circumstance, which gave umbrage to the v^^^^^-v^ King of Scotland, w^ere it not, that it laid the Origin of the foundation in his mind of a smothered resentment which never could be allayed till it expired with his life, amidst the slaughters of Flodden Field ! The circumstances were these ; King James had granted letters of marque to one of his subjects, against the Portuguese Nation, from whom he could gain no redress, for injuries which they had committed. Not content with making reprisals of the vessels of Portugal, the Captain attacked and plundered several English ships, under a pre- tence that they conveyed Portuguese goods. In consequence, his ships were captured by the English Admiral. The principal was slain in the action, and his comrades conveyed to London, and presented to the King, who pardoned them, and sent them to Scotland. King James demanded satisfaction ; but the English Monarch answered his messenger, " That it did not become him to impute a breach of treaty to an ally for shewing mercy to pirates." Whatever influence the dis- astrous Battle of Flodden Field may have upon the history of Scotland — it was this incident that gave rise to it — so fatal in its results, may be the guilty indulgence of secret revenge ! But to return. The alliance with Ferdinand for the protection of Italy and the Popedom, 318 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 319 War with France. i SECTION necessarily involved a war with France. A Par- ^^'' liament was called, in which soldiers were granted; and preparations made for the immediate invasion of France. Many disasters attended this first equipment, owing to the treachery of the King of Spain ; but at length, an alliance having been formed with the Emperor Maximillian, and preparations hav- ing been made on a grand scale, the King deter- mined to invade France in person. The prodi- gious expense of fitting out this immense arma- ment, both by sea and land, must of itself discover, the rapid advance which the country had made in riches and power. The fleet was increased to forty-two sail, and some of them, ships of consid- erable bulk, conveying six or seven hundred men — a circumstance, which will tend to shew how much the knowledge of navigation and maritime affairs had progressed, since the commencement of the reign of Henry VII. During these preparations, it was thought necessary to engage the King of Scotland in a treaty of peace — but his passions had been before-hand. His revenge had seized the first opportunity for which it had been anxiously wait- ing ; and he had, already, entered into an alliance with the King of France. Every precaution had been taken for the secu- rity of the kingdom, during Henry's absence, the Queen had been appointed Regent ; the brave >i. Earl of Surrey was placed at the head of the SECTION army, and the King was about to embark with all III. his forces. But the tragical part of these prepara- ^"*^* "* tions was still to be enacted. The guilt of the House of York had not yet been fully expiated ; and another victim was now to be added, to its list of illustrious sufferers. The wary council of Henry intimated, that it would not be safe for him to hazard his person in war, whilst Edmund De- la-Pole, Earl of Suffolk, the representative of the House of York was yet alive ; and who, in case of his death, might exchange the Tower for the Palace, and once more plunge the kingdom in civil war. This voice prevailed : and De-la-Pole, who must, long since, have considered the bitter- ness of death as past, was summoned to his fate and fell under the stroke of the executioner! At length the expedition set sail, and on the The Kin? fourth of August, the army invested Teronenne. '*'^' *^' ^'*°'^ A n 1513 The King s pavilion was of the most sumptuous description, and in the midst of martial array, he failed not to discover his taste for magnificence and display. The Emperor too, condescended to serve under him, an honor for the first time conferred upon a King ; and which no doubt, was highly flattering to the lofty and aspiring temper of Henry. After the "Battle of the Spurs," a name which it acquired, from the rapidity of the flight of the French horse. Terouenne despair- ing of effectual relief, surrendered ; and on enter- I 320 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION ing the city, the King took precedence of the ^^^' Emperor. Every thing indeed was propitious. Ohap II Tournay was next invested, and in a short time, compelled to surrender. It was here, as if he had been on a royal progress, that Henry established his court. He invited the young Prince Charles of Spain, to a splendid entertainment, and cele- brated solemn jousts and tournaments, in which himself and Sir Charles Brandon answered all comers, performing prodigies of valor. But these feats of arms and chivalry, have nothing to do with the solemn facts of history, further than they can be shewn to exert an influence upon those facts. In this case, it is evident, that in the edu- cation of Henry VIII. these gay and splendid exercises gained the ascendant ; and that when he came to the throne he exerted all his influence, to establish them on their ancient foundations; and to obtain for them, a portion of their ancient splendor. But the day of chivalry was gone ; and his attempt was preposterous. Another era had burst upon the world ; knowledge and science, navigation and commerce, the discovery of new worlds and the pervading light of truth, had given a new impulse to the human mind ; and an ex- pansion pf thought, which looked with contempt on the display of mere physical strength and dex- terity. Certainly, Henry, for a time, conducted these games with great spirit, and greater magni- ficence ; but, it was their expiring blaze : for, OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 321 shortly they were totally extinguished by the in- SECTION creasing light of learning and Christianity. HI. But Tournay, was the scene of a much greater ^^^^^^^^^^ event, than the festive entertainments of Henry — Rise of woi. an event, which opened a new scene in the history ^*'^* of his reign, and introduces to us a person of high genius, upon whose commanding energies, the history of England, is for a season, to depend. This was Thomas Wolsey, a person of unknown origin, but who, Tyy his abilities and the instrumentality of the Grammar school of his native town, had passed through the University with honour, and accompanied the King in this expedition as Almo- ner, in the train of Fox, Bishop of Winchester. Whatever advances in the King's favor, this in- dividual might, previousl}^ have made, he was now suddenly exalted to honor, and appointed Bishop of Tournay, by the King : and in virtue of that office, administered to the citizens, the oath of fealty to their new Sovereign. In the mean time, England itself is made the Battle of theatre of war. James IV. of Scotland, hurried ^^^"^^'^^ ^'^^^* ... A. D. 1513. on by his restless impatience for revenge, invades the borders of England with a formidable army of fifty thousand. But the project was to end in his dishonor and distruction. He was encountered by the Earl of Surrey, at Flodden, where after a desperate fight of three hours, the King was slain, with a vast number of his chief nobility and about ten thousand men. The events connected with 322 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION this defeat belong to the History of Scotland ; but HI- in this brief episode of our history, we may trace the fatal effects of revenge, which like every other inordinate passion, ends in its own overthrow.* Nothing further is transacted in France ; and the King leaving his new acquisitions in that country, under the government of Sir Edward Poynings, returned to England. Although nothing of very great importance to this country, appears to depend upon this gorge- ous expedition into France ; and though the con- quest of Terouenne and Tournay, appear but a very indifferent equivalent for the wealth and treasure expended upon the expedition ; yet it must not be admitted that it was nothing more than an empty show of kingly pride and magnifi- cence. A little reflection will tell us, that such an expedition, and attended with such success, must have had a very decisive effect in establishing amongst foreign nations the reputation of England. The courage and enterprize of her soldiers — the skill and hardihood of her sailors— the prowess and chivalry of her nobility, had a tendency to inspire that respect for her naval and military glory, which the country at that time certainly obtained, and which it has never rehnquished. In celebration of his late successes, the King ferred on the ^^^^^.^^^^^^ ^^ coufcr sigual houors, upon the Leaders. A. D. 1514. * Apostle James, Epis. i. 15. Honors con- OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 323 distinguished men, who had graced the expedition SECTION by their courage and abilities. Accordingly, on the ^n. second of February, Thomas, Earl of Surrey, was v.^^^^^^ created Duke of Norfolk. Sir Charles Somerset, Earl of Worcester ; Sir Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk; and Sir Edward Stanley, Lord Mont- eagle. Nor was Bishop Wolsey forgotten: the aspiring almoner was made Bishop of Lincoln, and to crown the whole, the King himself received ; a cap of maintenance and a sword, from Pope Leo X. who had now succeeded to Julius IL And that the gift might want nothing to render it acceptable, it was accompanied with a decree of the Lateran Council, which transferred the title of " Most Christian King" from the French Monarch, and conferred it upon Henry. The scene now suddenly changes: and an Mairicage of incident occurred of a more romantic and tender ^^'^ ^""'^'' character ; but as it was in reality, no romance, but exercised an influence on the aspect of public events, it must not be omitted in this history. It was the marriage of the Princess Mary, the King's sister. It will be remembered, that Henry VII. solemnly contracted this Princess, when very young, to Prince Charles of Spain. The parties had now arrived at the appointed age ; and the King sent an embassy to the Court of Flanders, to make arrangements for the completion of the treaty. But he soon found there was no intention on the part of that Court to fulfil the contract, 324 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY SECTION and, he was more disgusted with their frivolous III- excuses and unnecessary delays, then he would have been with an open and determined refusal. The King of France, wearied with the fatigues of war, thought this a favorable opportunity of making up the breach between himself and Henry, and having gained the mediation of the Pope, he sued for the hand of the illustrious Princess. Her affections had long been placed upon Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, the most princely and accom- plished nobleman of his day ; but the suit of Lewis prevailed, and she was doomed to be immo- lated as another victim on the altar of political expediency. But it would ill suit the character of this work to enter into the details of this event, suffice it to say, that Lewis, w^orn out with age and sickness, did not long survive. In three months the Queen of France was a widow ; and shortly after, with the full consent of her brother, bestowed her hand on the Duke of Suffolk, from this union descended the Lady Jane Gray, who is afterwards to act a brief and mournful part in our history. Repuution At this period by the success which attended their arms; and the splendor and influence of their government, the English people had acquired in a very great degree, the respect and admiration of the world, in which their generous and accom- plished King justly obtained an ample share. But unfortunately for himself, he found in Wolsey of England. A. D. 1515. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 325 Bishop of Lincoln, a man, whose abilities enabled SECTION him to manage the most difficult affairs of state ^^^' with wisdom and prudence ; and to him, the ^^^^-^^^-xl^ King consigned the chief management of public affairs. We must now follow the acts of this extraordinary individual, under whose conduct, the kingdom advanced in its course. We have already noticed his appointment to wnisej's the Bishopricks of Tournay and Lincoln. He^''^^'""^- now succeeds on the death of Bambridge, to the Archbishoprick of York, whilst through the influ- ence of the Kings of France and England, he was raised to the dignity of Cardinal, appointed Legate to the Pope, and armed with such peculiar author- ity, that his power was superior to that of the Archbishop of Canterbury. And to render his dignity and authority complete, he w^as made Lord High Chancellor. His ecclesiastical preferments were so rich, and the sources of wealth at his command, so many, that his annual income equal- led, if it did not exceed the revenues of the crown. His state and magnificence were equal to his rank and dignity. His household consisted of eight hundred persons ; among whom were ten Lords, fifteen Baronets, and fifty Esquires; and w^hen he made his appearance in public, he affected the greatest pomp and splendor — riding on a mule nobly caparisoned. Henry, having thus found a person upon whom he might devolve the cares of government, gave 326 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY CilAP. II. SECTION himself up to the more splendid exercises of the JI^« joust and tournament, and to the pomp and plea- sures of his court. His tried and prudent minis- ters remonstrated with him, on the fatal tendency of his conduct ; and exhorted him to attend to the business of the nation. But in vain. AYolsey it is to be feared, acted in this, a treacherous part ; and for the purpose of securing his own ad- vancement, encouraged the King in his penii- cious course, and in every possible way, adminis- tered to his luxurious ease, magnificent pursuits, and licentious pleasures. This may be considered as the period of the King's moral ruin, engulphed, as he was, in pleasure and enslaved by passion. The whole power and patronage of the state were now engrossed by Wolsey ; and the old and prudent ministers of the King began to retire from their attendance at the council table, where their presence had become unnecessary. Even the Duke of Suffolk, who of all Henry's friends, never lost his confidence, through the influence of the Cardinal, was an exile from court. Notwith- standing, such was the versatile talent, princely generosity^ and firm bearing of the Cardinal, that if he had been left to himself without injudicious interference, and if he had not set his heart on the Papal chair, in all probability, the King might have lived and died in peace. But this was not to be. Great events were to be accom- plished, in which, both were to be actors against \ } OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 327 their will. The King was to be roused from the SECTION luxurious and dignified repose in which he vainly HL thought to consume his days ; whilst the Cardinal ,^^^^]^-v!^ by his intricate policy, wrought out that, which, beyond all things, he w^ould have deprecated ; and in which he was at last ensnared and destroyed. But many a step was yet to be taken. The unrav- elling of the divine plan was as slow as it w^as sure ; and we have before us, two men, of elevated minds and noble character, ruined by the prosperity of their situation. Their unbounded means allowed full scope for the natural bias of the heart, to display itself without control ; and w^hilst they were both fitted by the powers of their under- standing to elevate and advance the interests of their country, yet all the good that was accom- plished, resulted from the overruling of their licentiousness. A phenomenon, in the moral gov- ernment of the w^orld, divinely announced by the Sacred Penman. Book of Psalms Ixxvi. 10. The Cardinal's superior abilities, as a ruler, Abie admin- were soon developed in the administration of the ^'^'^^^""''^'^'^ Commonwealth- He was indefatigable in busi- ness, and vigorous in the execution of the laws. Nothing escaped his vigilance. His scrutiny extended to ecclesiastical as w^ell as civil affairs. He brought all public extortioners to a severe account. He visited perjury w^ith condign pun- ishment ; and established courts for the purpose of defending the poor against the oppression of Cardinal. 328 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 329 SECTION the rich. In short, he was a determined reformer ; WJ» and wherever disorders existed, his powerful mind Chap. II. , . , , -r^ , K^^^y^^^ was always prepared to apply a remedy. But he was not popular ; and this, perhaps, may be a proof of his impartiality and sincerity. During an insurrection in London, which was caused by the jealousy of the citizens against the Foreign me- chanics and artizans ; the all-powerful Cardinal, instead of hastening to the place of tumult as the first magistrate under the King, was glad to shut himself up in his palace, and to fortify it with cannon. A fact sufficient in itself; to convey to us a distinct idea, of the barbarous arrangement, of the civil power, at that time. The great The REFORMATION ! the luost important and purposeof God g]QpJQyg gyent of this or any other age, since the promulgation of Christianity, is now before us. It is the great object which is to guide our inqui- ries, and to which, for a long time, w^e have seen every event in our history tending ; and it is in the sudden and effectual deliverance from the usurpations of Popery, fraught with such incon- ceivable blessings to millions of the human race, that we are to look for the manifest finger of God. Had we been following the rise of the Pope- dom, w^e should have found at this time, that the Popish church had arrived at the " ne plus ultra" of error in doctrine — superstition in worship, and viciousness in practice ; and that the measure of her iniquities was full ; whilst her Lords, the Chap. II. fold \y Popes, had arrived at a most prodigious height of SECTION pride, presumption and impiety. Indeed, nothing II** can more fully discover the truth of these impu- tations, than the open and profligate sale of what were termed " Indulgences ;" the conditions of which were : " That without distinction of persons or sins, w^hoever performed certain religious rites, and paid certain sums of money, should obtain a full remission of their sins." The agents employed in the transfer of these indulgences, carried on their infamous traffic, in a manner the most un- disguised ; and opened their courts or shops even in taverns, brothels, and gaming houses. Such open licentiousness and blasphemy could not escape general observation. Discussions on the lawfulness of such extraordinary assumptions, were excited throughout Europe. The flagitious lives of the clergy — the increase of learning, and the discovery of printing, gave strength and vigour and extension to the inquiry. The immortal name of Luther is well known in conjunction with this subject, and indeed, is closely connected with the whole of this extraordinary ecclesiastical revolution, as it respects the Continent of Europe. But our design is to trace the progress of the Reformation in England, which did not depend upon the same causes, nor the same persons — was more slowly developed, and thus providentially escaped those innovations which characterized the Lutheran and Genevese Reformation. And ) 'ff 330 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 331 SECTION it will appear, not a little remarkable that, the III- Cardinal himself was the first great Instrument. He had been appointed as we have seen, the Pope's legate plenipotentiary, with full power to inquire into, and correct all ecclesiastical abuses. He ex- erted this authority with such vigour and dispatch, that he became extremely odious with all ranks of the Clergy. Loud complaints were made against the rigorous severity and exactions of the Cardinal, which at length, through the Archbishop, reached the ears of the King, who so far interfered, as to rebuke the severity of his Minister. It is well known that the Cardinal's ambition had, for a long time, been placed on the dignity of the Popedom, and this object he steadily pursued through all his course. He never lost sight of the dazzling prize, night or day. It w^as the key- stone of all his policy, and was mixed up with all the national treaties which he had power to con- trol. He courted the favour of foreign Princes, whose influence could avail, and especially at this time, of Francis King of France, for whom he ob- tained the restoration of Tournay ; on which occa- sion also the Princess Mary, not one year old, was affianced to the infant Dauphin of France. Another eminent personage, whose actions had a powerful influence on the future events of this reign, must now be introduced to the reader. This was Charles V. of Spain, who was elected Emperor, in the room of Maximillian. This saga- chap. n. Charles V. Emperor, A. D. 1519. / cious Prince, whose mind w^as occupied with the SECTION splendid schemes of an unbounded ambition, soon HL perceived that it was his interest to stand well with the prime minister of England. With this great man, to resolve and to act, were the same thing. He lost no time, but though somewhat behind his rival, yet, by munificent presents and well-timed flattery, he contended successfully y^\\\\ Francis for the post of favour. The Cardinal cautiously weighing the balance, of things — perceived that the Emperor was the more potent Monarch, and reflecting, that in case of a rupture between him and Francis, the power of the King of England must decide the contest, resolved to give all his influence to the Emperor ; in ratification of which, he sent him more valuable presents than he had received. This deep policy, by which he rejected the interest of the French party, although it is said, France had promised him the votes of thirteen Cardinals, was as unsuc- cessful as it was dishonest. It was, as we shall see, a false step for his ow^n interests, and could never be retrieved. An interlude now occurs in the political drama, with the details of w^hich, I must forl)ear to embla- ^^"^^^ *^'^*^ King's of zon my pages, as I do not find that it bears any France and reference to the course of events. It was a Ions:- ^"s^^"^- ° A. D. 1520. projected interview between the Kings of France and England ; and conducted on such a scale of expensive magnificence, that it defies all compari- luterviewbe 332 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 333 SECTION son with similar displa3^s, whether ancient or Ilf- modern, and acquired for the plains of Ardres, where the interview took place, the name of "the field of the cloth of gold". The King immediately on his return, not con- tent with the honors he had gained on the plains of Ardres, determined to display his learning ; and entered into a theological dispute with the celebrated Luther, whose writings had now ac- quired great celebrity. The King, it is said, was more induced to undertake the work, because Lu- ther had attacked his favorite author, Thomas Aquinas, with great asperity. Be this as it may, the work entitled '' De septem Sacramentis " w^as accomplished, and in a splendid dress, was pre- sented to the Pope, by Doctor John Clark, dean of Windsor ; and was received with the greatest demonstrations of joy and triumph: and there is nothing, if succeeding events would have allowed, which Henry might not have obtained from the See of Rome. His writings were compared to those of Saint Austin and Jerome : and in the very next consistory, the high and honorable title of '" DEFENDER OF THE FAITH " was Conferred upon him. Nor was this all — the fame of his scholar- ship resounded through all the states of Christen- dom. Innumerable authors dedicated their works to him, as the first in rank and letters ; and his name was everywhere lauded by sages, reverenced by saints, and celebrated by poets. Nor must Chap. H. i all this be considered as empty flattery. The SECTION work had real merit. — It was superior to that of HI. his learned antagonist in propriety of language, in the force of his reasoning, and the learning of its citations : but as the learned Collier says of it. — '' It is true he leans too much upon his character, argues in his garter-robes, and writes as it were, with his sceptre.* But alas ! a tragical event which now happened threw a gloom over these innocent employments. The House of Buckingham had not yet expiated the guilt of their fathers, and Edward the present accomplished Duke, was destined to fall a victim to unerring justice. His high and haughty bearing towards the Cardinal, had provoked his resent- ment, and from secret intelligence, he was made acquainted with certain expressions which had been uttered, in private, by the Duke, which when brought into light, seemed to bear the construc- tion of treason. He was, in consequence, appre- hended and tried ; and, on very slight grounds, condemned to die. He refused to sue for pardon, and was beheaded in the Tower ; and whatever portion of guilt may attach to his character, it is manifest his life was in the power of the Cardinal, and it is to be feared, that he was instigated to destroy him, through the influence of revenge. At length the war which had long been foreseen, broke out between the Emperor and the King of * Curiosities of Literature. 334 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 335 Chap. H. SECTION France, and which continued, with partial inter- "I- ruptions, to devastate the fairest portion of South- ern Europe for the space of forty years. Wolsey, with a splendid retinue, was sent as ambassador and umpire, to settle the dispute. Great prepa- rations were made by all parties to give solemnity and importance to the embassy. The Cardinal, at first, appears honestly intent on fulfilling the object of his mission, and of bringing the war to a conclusion. But in the midst of the negoci- ations, a private interview with the Emperor, changed his purposes ; and after fonning a private treaty with the Emperor, by which he lost the confidence and friendship of the French Monarch, he returned to England. But this deceitful policy whilst it ended in his own disappointment, was one of those necessary links in the course of events, which led to the Reformation in England. But no doubt it had a still more striking influence in the affairs transact- ed on the Continent, but which belong to another portion of history. ^ At this very juncture, the heart stirring ambi- tion of the Cardinal was awakened in all its inten- sity by the death of Leo X. The Cardinal had certainly laid his plans with great care, and no person on public grounds, could have higher pretensions to the Popedom. But his ambitious hopes were to meet with a severe check. The very King whom he had selected as his patron, Vacancy in the Papacy, A. D. 1522. and in whom he had reposed his confidence, failed SECTION him. Wolsey lost no time, but before his envoy could even arnve at Rome, Adrian, who had v^^^^v^x^ been tutor to the Emperor, w^es elected to the Papal chair. No doubt as we have hinted above, this failure may be traced in a great measure, to the alienation of the French Monarch from Wolsey, on account of his private treaty with the Emperor, and which soon after led him to declare war against England. But the conduct of the Emperor in- flicted a deep wound on the mind of the Cardinal, which he did not fail to resent ; and which led to a new course of policy, on w^hich great events are made to depend ! But whatever might be the feelings of Wolsey, The Emperor he is obliged to dissemble : for one part of the ^^'''^ Kn-umd. private Ireaty, was to secure an mterview between the Emperor and the King of England — one prin- cipal reason of which was, to treat of a marriage between him and the Princess Mary. The Mar- quess of Dorset and the Cardinal with a noble retinue, met the Emperor at Calais. He was received in London by the King with great pomp and rejoicings, and on the nineteenth of June was installed a Knight of the Garter, with great mag- nificence. But nothing surpassed the dignity and splendor of Wolsey. In all things he affected the ceremonial and dignity of the Pope. On Whit- sunday the King and Emperor, rode in great state, to St. Paul's Cathedral ; where the Cardinal \ 336 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. U. SECTION performed high mass, with unusual pomp. At Ifl- the commencement of the service, two Barons pre- sented him with the bason and water ; after the Gospels, the ceremony was performed by two Earls ; and at the last lavatory, by two Dukes : a priestly state, which it is said, raised the indignation even of some of the Spaniards. But what ought chiefly to be remarked is, that, the two Monarchs, received the Sacrament together, and sw^ore upon the holy gospel to observe the league concluded between them — to unite their forces against Francis, and to marry the Princess Mary, when of a proper age to the Emperor — we shall see how remarkably these solemn engage- ments were frustrated, affording high proof of the vanity of human wisdom, and a striking illustra- tion of the truth of Holy Writ.* The Emperor departed under the convoy of the Earl of Surrey, the English Admiral, who carried on a desultory and merciless w^arfare on the coast of France, whilst the Marquess of Dorset, enacts the same predatory scenes on the borders of Scot- land. The amount of private suffering inflicted on families, villages, and towns, by these torturing expeditions must have been fearful. But prepa- rations were making on a more extensive scale, and to raise the necessary supplies, the King caused a survey of the whole kingdom to be made, which, manifested the rapidly increasing wealth * Prophecy of Isaiah liv. 24, 25. OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 337 of the nation ; and induced the King by the exer- SECTION cise of his own authority, to command loans of III. his richer subjects. But this method was utterly v^^^-ii[/ insufficient, and the King and his Minister were obliged to summon a Parliament. The arbitrary authority, and munificent disposition of the Cardi- nal, were unfriendly to these popular assemblies. He knew their power, and disliked to encounter them. He had carried on the government for seven years without their assistance ; and nothing but a sense of necessity could have induced him to woiscy and assemble them. The Cardinal exerted all his the house of Commons. eloquence to induce the House of Commons, to grant a liberal supply ; but when that failed, he attempted to overawe their deliberations. He entered the House with great warmth, and told them " that he desired to reason with those who opposed his demands," to which he received in answer, " It was the order of that House, to hear, and not to reason, but among themselves." With this rebuke the Cardinal departed, resolving no doubt, to have as little, as possible, to do with such refractory materials ; nor did he court ano- ther interview wdth them of seven years. This line of policy w^as most injurious to the commonwealth. There was wealth in the country, and ability in the people, which might have been college of turned to great advantage ; but these, by not being Phys'^^'ans called into exercise, were in a great measure lost, to the community. In this Parliament, the College 338 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPII-Y f SECTION of Physicians was instituted ; and important pri- III- vileges granted to its members. An act was also ^^^AJ^^-^ passed to enable the King by his letters patent to annul all attainders of High Treason, and to restore their heirs ; and the subsidies being grant- ed, this septennial session ended. In the mean time the Duke of Suffolk wath a train of the first nobility, entered France at the head of thirteen thousand well disciplined and effective troops, and having formed a junction with the forces of the Emperor, they were victorious, and advanced within a few miles of Paris ; but from the extreme coklness of the weather, by w^hich it is said, all the corn in France * w^as frozen and destroyed, they wxre compelled to put an end to the campaign. It would be useless and tedious to enter into a minute detail of the military ex- ploits of this period. But it should be remarked, that during this inroad of the English into France, their King, Francis, was conducting his forces into Italy ; and that in the midst of his successes, his arms received a temporary check by the death of Pope Adrian VI. Woisev arrives Wolscy's ambitiou w^as again roused. Every at -reat power, possiblc cffort was made, and at the intercession A. D. 1523. of Wolsey, the King wdth his own hand, wTote in his favor, to the Emperor. Notwithstanding, the Emperor again failed him, and Julio de Medici was made Pope by the name of Clement VII. * Echard. i OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 339 Chap. H. Wolsey though greatly mortified, still concealed SECTION his resentment, and endeavoured to make the best ^I* terms he could with the new Pope, Nothing that he asked was denied; and his powers in Ecclesiastical matters, were increased to the au- thority of a Pope, in England. At this juncture, the mind of Wolsey appears to have contemplated great designs ; and his first object was, to build two colleges, one at his native town Ipswich ; and the other, at Oxford. And in order to fulfil his designs, he readily obtained a license from the Pope, to suppress some of the lesser monasteries, and to apply their revenues to these important institutions. But he had more difliculty with the King, who, for some time, refused to give his consent. This may be considered as the first invasion of the Papal superstition in England; and, we may wtII stop to admire the consci- entious scruples of a Monarch, who, led on by circumstances, and taught by this example, after- wards, and in a few" short years from the time of which we are speaking, destroyed every vestige of the Monastic institutions in England ! How little was any thing of the kind contemplated by him at this time ! How little could he have imagined, that he, should be guilty of such excesses ! and that he, the '* Defender of the Faith," should be the greatest enemy the Papal church ever had, in England ! Had such things then been proposed to him, would he not have answered in the words 340 THEOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Chap. U. SECTION of Hazael: ''But what! Is thy servant a dog that HI. he should do this great thing'?" Whilst these projects were entertained by the Cardinal, the Scots, at the instigation of France, under the Duke of Albany, invaded the English frontiers. The Earl of Surrey, now Duke of Norfolk, at the head of a formidable army, repel- led the invasion. The Scots shortly after, made overtures of peace, and stipulated to give up the French interest, on condition, that the King would consent to contract a marriage, between the Princess Mary and their young Monarch. It will be remembered, that the Princess had been so- lemnly affianced to the Emperor ; and this offer, afforded an opportunity of putting the intentions of the Emperor to the test. He did not wait for a formal communication on the subject, but hearing of the treaty, he was the first to despatch an em- bassy to require, that the Princess should im- mediately be delivered into his hands, promising to proclaim her Empress, and to appoint her Regent of the Low Countries. But this negocia- tion which would have changed the whole com- plexion of English affairs, and might have proved fatal, as we shall see, to the English Reformation, was suddenly interrupted, and never renewed, by an event, which filled all Europe with surprise and astonishment ! King of France rj.^^ ^^^ betwccn the King of France and the taken prisoner. ^ . _ • ta i i A D. 1525. Emperor was vigorously carried on m Italy, and OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 341 i