The comprehensive history of England, from the earliest period to the ...

Google

This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project

to make the world's books discoverable online.

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover.

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the

publisher to a library and finally to you.

Usage guidelines

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.
We also ask that you:

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for
personal, non-commercial purposes.

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it.

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe.

About Google Book Search

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web

at|http: //books .google .com/I

»Google

HHIII

e000S2144M

• Google

J

Google

Dia,iiz==B,l^-iOOQle

»Google

THE COMPREHENSIVE

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

»Google

»Google

»Google

I'lllNCE HK.NHy AMI ClilliK.irSTirK liASnUliKt;

,v Google

»Google

»Google

TBS

^©glFS IS H IS I^S I ^^

AK3 SDCIATL.

^filt^9llr

!, •: ;:xj'i:i

V,-, K 1> 1 N » '

• Google

»Google

COMPREHENSIVE

HISTORY OF ENGLAND;

CIVIL AND MILITARY,
EELIGI0U8, INTELLECTUAL, AND SOCIAL,

FROK TBS EARUBSr PERIOD TO

THE SUPPKiSSION OF THE SEPOY KETOLT.

CMABLES MACFAELANE, «» ™ Ekv. THOMAS THOMSON,

itrTHOB or " ov> BSUJi mma,' " tbiviu ih authob or " amrotY or aoan.ua>," acppLiMiiiT n

THB WHOLE KBTISED AND EDITED BT THE RET. THOUAB THOUSOH.

ILLUSTRATED BY ABOVE ONE THOUSAND ENQRAVINQ8.

VOLUME II.

BLACKIB AND SON, PATERNOSTER ROW;
AND GLASGOW AND EDINBUEGH.

Jl^nc. rtT (^/. —-Google

»Google

CONTENTS.

VOLUME II.

BOOK YL—CofUinned.
FaoM TBS Aoctaaiow or Hbhst Vn. to thi

DUTB or EUZABITH— A.D. 143S-I603.
Chap. IX.— Ciril uid Military History. Baign of

Edwud Siith, A.V. 1647-IM9 1

Crap. X.— CiTil and HiliUi? History. Bmga of

Edwud Sixth. AS. 1549-1GS3, .... 26
Chap. XL— Ciril md Military History, Saiga of

M«iy. A.IJ. 15G3-1SM, <2

Chap. XII.— Civil and MiHtuy History. Beign of

Mm7. A.n. 1B6B-IB68, 69

Cbap. XIIL— aril ukd Milituy HiMory. B«lgn

of EUzriMth. A.n. IGSB-ISeo, .... 74
Chap. XTV. — Ciril and Military Histoty. Bdgn

of Elimbirth. A.D. 1660-156% SO

Ca*P. XT.— Ciril and Milituy Histoty. B«ign of

Eliaabrth. a.b. 1666-1667, lOB

Chap. XVI.— CSvil and Militaiy History. Beign

of EUiabrth. a.d. 1667-1669, 121

CbaP. XTII.— Ciril and Military Hiatoiy. H«ign

of EUabstli. A,D. 166*-1672, .... 136
Chap. XVIIL— Civil and Military History. Beign

of Eiiabeth. a.d. 1672-1687 166

CaAP. XIX.— Ciril and Hilitaiy History. BoigD

oTEIiialMth. A.D. 1687-1603, .... 160
Cbap. XX.— History of KaligiOD, from tbs Atum-

■ion of Henry SaTonth to tlie Death of EUsabrtb.

i.D. 1*86-1603, 200

Cbap. XXT.— History of Society, from the Aoces-

non of Hsnry Seranth to the Death of Eliubatb.

A.D. H86-1603. 236

EooK vn.

Faoa TBI Acciisios or Jahbb T. to the Ri-
noRATiOH or Chablxb n.— a.d. 1803-1G60.

Chap. L— Ciril and Hilitaty Hiitatr, BeIgn of
JaoMEInt. A.D. 1603-160^ .... 269

Chap. IT.— Ciril and Military History. Beign of

Jamea Tint. A.D. 1600-1613, 312

Chap. IIL-^ril and Uilitaiy Hiatoiy. Bal<a of

James Fint. A.D. 1614-lSU, .... 829
CSAP. IV.— Ciril and Military Hiatoiy. Baign of

Jamn Fint A.D. 1618-1621, 3U

CHAP, v.— Ciril and Military History. Keign of

Jamea Fint. A.D. I622-I626, .... 360
Chap. YL — Ciril and Military History. Retgn of

Charlea First. A. D. 1626-1637, . . . . 377
Cbap. VIL— Ciril and Military History. Reign of

CharlsaFint A.D. 1628-1629 391

Chap. Vm.-'Ciril and Military History. Bslgn

of Charles lint. a.d. 1639-1636 4U

Chap. IX.— Ciril and Military History. Beign of

Charitt Fitat. A.D. 1636-163S, .... 428
Chap. X.— Civil and HfUtair History. Baign d

Charlea Fint, A.D. 1637-1639, .... Ml
Chap. XI.— €iril and Military History. Beign of

CharleiFint. A.D. 16*0-1611 461

Cbap. XII.— aril and IClitary History, Btignof

Charles TizsL A.D. 1611, 179

Chap. Xni.'-Ciril and Military Hieloiy. Beign

ofCharlaaFint. a.d. 161M6^ ... 497
Cbap. XIV.— ^ril and Military History. Bafgn

of Charlea First, a.d. 1642-1641. . . . . 618
Chap. XV. — aril and Military Hiatory. Beign of

Charles First. A.D. 1644-1646, .... 636
Chap. XTT.— Ciril and Military History. Btigo

of Charles Ilrrt. A.D. 1616-1619, . . . . 668
Cbap. XVn.— avil and Military History. The

Commonwealth. A.D. 1619-1 660, . . . 67S
Chap. Xmi.— History of Keligion, from the Ao-

oeadon of Jamea KIrst to the Batoration cf

Charles Second. A.D. 1603-1660^ .... 699
Chap. XIX.— History of Sodaty, from the Ao-

eeasion of James Tirst to the Itoatwation id

Chsrlss Second, a.d. 1603-1660, . . . 919

.V Google

Chat. I- — Ciiil and HiliUrj Hiatorj. B«{gD of

ChulM SMond. A.P. ]660-l«)l, . . . «<
Cbap. II.— avil and ICUtur HUtoi7. Bdgn of

CUrieiSMond. a.d. 1661-1675, . . . . «
Cbap in.—aTil and HOJtaiy Hiitor;, B«iga of

ChuloSMOnd. «.D. 167S-]6^t, . . . «t
Chaf. IV.— Civil and UiliUry SltbtTj. Biign of

Chu-lM Swond. A-D. 1S81-16SB, . . . , TC

Chaf. VI.— Civil and HilltU7 Hiitai7. BaJ^of
J«mei!l<K»nd. A.D. I6B5-168B, . . . . T

CUAF. YII.— Hiitorj of ficligiim, from tfaa Bator-
ation of CharlM Baoond to Um Barolnliao.

A.D. 1680-1689, 7

CrAF. VIII.— Hintoiy of Sodatr, from tlM Bart<»-
■tioD of CLarlai Second to
A.D. 1660-1639, . . .

,v Google

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

UtOMTIDtlttOK, — Tb> SuFBZiiAtT or the Lav — Pmkce Bmsi ams CHtxr-Jranci Qikoiohi ; from Uw I
C. W, Cop*, RA., inUHHauHCif Fmi. T.I. L, px. (SL
BNOOATBD TITLE. — WDCEBa, from tb* Nonb-wat. — Fnmi u Orlginil Dniriag bj W. L. Lailsli.

J, PliK TD ILWBImil

Id WhlUhalL— Fmm HoUu,
}. Oliphinl,

BtrrLi or Pimu. .

in thff Tower AnDomr,

r, Lotd Bi^-

-Fnm IjHiv' AntlqtiLISM

i
10. BoiinaET Puce, Ixmden, ttom tha IUtct.— Fnna ■

Iirlnt b; BoUu, t

11 Cot-RT HtSK or THE TiMX.— ettntfi R^tl Antlqultia, 1
11 DDHBaH Bonn, Lcmdan. team tlu SItb. — Aflw

13 SlON HOOBE. on U» Thuu*.— Piwn BouIbK or
Und ud Walia, ....

14. LadtJiibiOui.— AflarBoltaiD,

ly Bathuid'h Cutlc. LaiuloiL-.-FrDm ■ print I^ E
19. IvTKuoR or Br. FBin'g Cbaiti. In tba Tow
Dnwn br T. 8. Bo]r^ ftom hi> Aaiab on thi q
IT QCBii Hur.— Aflar Zucchero.

15. HripecN QiUHHm, Biahop of T

) Tunon' Oate, Tonr ot Londim.— Fi«n ■

VI. WooumocK. OilbKUlin. HsilitlngA.D. 1T14,
11. FlACE or Bishop Hoopeii'i Martvi

— PnUB ■ ■kxtsli oD Uia (pot.
S2. KlCHOus RiDLET, Blafaop of London.— Fnna >

Prfnt.

K. Hvoa LAtiHcii. Biifaop of Wonattor.— Ftodi ■

!4. lui Mabtiu' ItEKcnuAi., Oibnl.— Fiom • Tla

Uadoiula, .....

i. HATnuD Uova, BntfOrdafam.— Flom Hall'i

onklBj

iL in. TKE Old Beuht. Ac— F^om Votich dui

iTr OP THE nHL^From E print mttrilnlad to ADfOA-
taaRjttMT.

mWiujAH CrciLiEltaiwudi Lord Buchlaj.— -Fnm

3. Uasi QnEn or Stote.— PnBn > print ■ilo' PiiUin,

4. RoBEBT DmiLET. Eul of LoicBtn.— AAoT Ziucharo,
9. TBI BatAi. Cbatel, Hol^rood. — pnm ■ rim br

6. CKAMUH IE BOLTBOOO WHERE Rbeio VIE MUE-

DEEED.— Pmn > Tlaw b^ CEtMnnolo,
T. CBAiatau.AB Caer.^ Hid-LothlaL — From ■ riair t

B. A)n:ia,TBoosEi,nauCli*KiA-a Field.— PnoiEma

datadlfi7fi,

B. DcmuK Caetu, Baddingtonahln. — Fnnn s riaw 1-

0. LocuLETEi Castle, Einmihin.— Fnm e dnwing t

Q.Cook

H Caetu, YoAahln. — Fioai ■ drawing t

Whitti

i. TuTBDBi CAsriE. Staffmdihira.— Fiom a dnwing bf
Back in tha Brituh HoHum, .

I. RimirEH Castle. Pertluliin.— Billingi' AuliqniUBa

i. The IUcE.~Fnim Foi'i Acta and Honnmanta, .
1. BiEFKABCiaDEAiE— Atlerapiolnnlnthooolleolion

of tha Uarqnia of Lothian. ....
r. FoTEEETEOAV CflCBCH, with ilta Of tha Caatla.—

WhElla/a Nanhampton•hi^^
i. COEioua 8ir.nai Witch or Masv Quran or Soon, in

the poaaaaajon of SirTbonuu Diok Laudar. Batt..
). CocET or THE Castle or BupiE.—FroinFran«llonn-

0. BibJobhBaweiiie— FToniUu"Hsioa1cvla.'

1. Bib Habtth Fbouibher.— Fmn tha " Baroologia.'
i. Tilbdbi Fobt. od tha Thamca. — From a Tlaw b) Stai

S. The Bpanuu Aemad*.— Fion tha Tapaatr; In it,
BouH of Lotdi, ngnied bj tha Social; of Anl

;. Plu—Tee HABBOtrB or Cadu, .

S. Bib Robebt Cecil, attonruds Eul of SaUitnur.—

r. Kbex HooiE. London, from Ihs Rirar. — After Hollar, 11

0. WiLLiAX TVHIUL— Frum tha "HeroologlE.'' . . X

1. Chaieeb Bible ie the Chuecb or 8t. Choi. York.—

Drawn b; J. W. Arober, fiom hla ikatafa on the ipot, 21
I. The BiiTunHn Fuu^ m SwTHnEui — UABTrBunt
or Ahhe Abeew Ann otheeb.— From Foi'a Acta uid

). UiLEa CoTESDALi.— From B 1

»Google

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

il AntiqoltlB,

«T. ThiEj

«8. Dbbh

iDlh

M. Put ■

T^ UoHEnui Hall, Chohln.— FnmBiittoD'i AmikltaiF-

tnnl AaUqoitis, .... 11

IS. PnupEimTic View ud Gioiiin) Fun or a LonxiH
HoiHK. TlDW of UiabMh.— FnHD m dimwiag by
Tbcups in Ilia fiouu CoUaDtltm, . . Zl

TT. CwiDME. tlmo of Hhut VII,— Fnm Bofia MSB., SI

79. Cocnnns, Uhm c< Hamr VIL— Fiam Roral iiDd

HhIuidMSS. V

T9. FuAU Anm, tlnw of Hhut VIL — Fnai Boitl

80. Hin A]ii> Can, tlowtf H«iT Till.— Fnim t»tmttf

• In poMlm of Mr. J. Aitj Raptoo, . K

Bl. Cosnmn, tins irf Bmaj Till.— SalHUd from H(d-

cm Huio» Ho™» Eut lluibun, NorMk.

'luxw OF Bkausux Bau, Cbtibliv- — Tram
HintfoniorEncliiad. . »

K HAii, DitbTiUn.— Fnm Lriini^ Dnbj-

T Hooai, HDTthiuDphiiuhln.- RlohudKiB'*

SI. Fevau A-rmi, thM of HauT V1IL— Fnm Upartir

Is iiriMiMliiii of Ht. J. AiltT Rapton, Si

S). CsncHm, tiow of Bdnid VI.— Fr

portralU, ,

U. CoRi'HE. Lom Boppm aid FAamfaAix.- From
TntiK'i print cfQoHD El

K. AAUOUB rOlt TVE ToiTIDrAHEHT, A.D, 1'

ooUectloB >t OoadiMi Comt, . ii

M. SEKI-LAHCia'S AUIODK. A.D. lUC.— FlDID Uw 0I>1I»-

Uon ■■ Qooditcb CdoR, .... II
9i. Flcted ABUoua, tbdaof H«nTTTII. — Tnrmtiar^Bgj

Inbruiof StrTbomu PerKaiAt IbUuus, . . il

tar Plait or LoytioN tv thk tiub ot Qteem Euzadith, —

Cblsflj thnntha pUnbj R. AggH, IMO. X

SniHD. LoDdoD.— fioin ■ ritw bj J. T. Bmith, il
91. Thb Bea> Qaubi. 8ooUi«ufe.— WilklDBn'i Loo-

M. Katpoi* at

•B. OOO AHD UaO

1(W. Bam How J

up*

Bbctzu, Fomt of D*ul— nvm ft

br T. 8. Boji IMni Um orf-
Mu, ixnckm. . . . 1

EulafBDrnr.— AlhrTiUlD, . S

- innlitB]

Hulaiu Has

In tin Abbtj of AtUBsl, so. lIppaaiT
3. Cssruiu or ai ImuHimiuir.- Aflw Hollii,

6. InnAL Lxma— Btjb of Uu wIt prinled b

BoulHukOfl pnlod, ....

7. Tbe HroB CBOflH, Cha^HldB. — Fram a painting lat^
^ nt Cowdnij, St

Luhii'-Hii-

EOHi ViLum, Dnka of Bi

print Attor Hidimal JlinvTBlt,
). an Waltee RAixiaB. — From tl» print Id

toijofUiaWBrIil.-BLieTT, , . . M

]. CoinrTOoiTtio]um,BpaDlihAnibuiular. — FntmEpiiiit

bj a. Pu. n

L BAOoir'a HoDBE. QoibunbDiT, Hertlbrdilkln.— FRm
B(iuiti» of &iglAnd uid WaIh, . BS

I. New Hajx, Eiau.— Fnma Tiaw b7 Butlatt, . M

1. Foot Boldieb witb Bosdachi, A.n. lUJi.— FVom
Uajriclc'i AuciaDt ArmDm ST

S. XtiaKmEB or TBI nsioD.— From Narrick, ST

9. PUESAV or THE FEUOD. — FnHB HqTlck, . . ST

7. The Palace or TaEOBALna.— From a plotun by ^An-

ELEiI.- AftarTandrk^ . .ST

lUErrA Uabia, Quam of CbArlca I, — Aftar Tan-

Bib Thohai Cot

ESnT-

-Aftar Co^aUnaJai

iwn

Pux Di I.A nocanu a

th^ap

pauadinlS?

Jomc BEtBEE—

Frona

»itnitlnUiaBodlal»Ub

rwy, Oitord,

The Oeeat Cioce Towek, BotAalla.- Fron

Ptanch print,

The Hotel l

French print.

I. TwE Stab Chambkr, ffartiiilnalar~lBtarl<r of iba

Principal Ream.— From in oricinal akaicb, . 41

I WlLUAK PBYSBt- Prom a print bj HdUai, 41

r. IiADn'a Palace at Fuiaau. — From Falknar'a Hlatoi7

a. AncHBUHOP Ladd. 'Aftar Tandfka, 43

>. iHioo JoHEf PoKnoo, wiat and of Old Bt. PEnTs.—

Aftar HoUar, *'

D. BuHOPjniOH.— From > print brTstna, 4S

1, IiADMoaroir Castle, Comwall Fmn Vnaa and

Cmwall niutrEtad, . .4!

I. JOBl(IjILBCBin.—FromaprintbT Hollar, 4!

I. Tbohai,. Baboe WEKTWDvni, Earl of StraflOrd.—

Aftar Vudrta. 41

t. JoBW Babtdeh.— From tlM atitna bj J. H. Fidar.

A.RA., (n St Btepliana Hall, New Patua of Wart-

B. OuvD 8t. Johe —

arOomaUoi

HamUtm.- Athr a portnlt bj Vandjka,

»Google

LIST OF UliUSTRATIONS.

a. Thi AaoBBBBiir'a Pauoiv lamMlL— From ma Old
1. Gnui. Lman (Ku-l << L*noX— Afi<r Tiadrka, . «

t, Tou, Smn PhbKvOa Prutwu.— from ■ print b;

ldit*(ian) 4

i. Husmru ammron.^Fnm Clanndon'i HMoit. '
I, io«H FvH,— Prom ■ print b) Honbnilmi, . . i

T. BnD^En Vnw or ni Town or tionor. — From

aidwinc tpwIq b«tw«il0fll ud iDSObrofdH of

U0. BxMFTiKi CoDST. — From im old plctorr

Et. WUI^ . I:

TO Tat Horn or
Comuwa.— Pnm ■ ikitiih hjr J. w. Anhsr. Ukan
immadJataly Rlts tbo bnmliif of ths Bomai of

I. Odusball, LODdon,— Fmn an old tIi
PHuuit, Britiih If BHnm, .

i, Oaocn*' Hall, London, Booth Vin
lud"! LODlloU,

t OnrzuL View or Hdll at tbi ri

B Pnofca BcPCKT.—From ■

dM.— From ■ ikitch b; F. W. Pilibolt, F.S.A., SI
t TBI PuiuB Chcbce or Kummi, Bncki, In whiufa
/ohn Himpda ii bnriad.— F. W. Fslibolt, from hii

9. EnmuiCB TO Bunoi fTampl* Btnrt).— J. B. Pimt,
ftvm hit dimwing on tho spot, , . . U

t. LoU) Falelud. — Fnnn ttw rtatns b/ John B^. In
St. Stoplini'i H^ nn HmM oT Pwllunaat, . s:

I. Ounui, bum the EmI. h it th* parlod. — Fnm

t. IkatHnofov Cun^ Barkihln.— From ■ drawing bj
BlH±. »i

7. BdTboku FAi>rAZ.~From aprlnt hj HoUir, . &
S. Tu Tbutt-Hddbi, Uibridgi, now tha Crown Inn.

— J, W. Arcbn, tnm hla oiigiiiAl dnwLitg, ^

9. Nucn BATTLi-nEin.— From ■ drawtoc b^ Dnkn, it
t. fUm-iXD Cun^ Hunmoulhahlro.— From ■ photo-

I Bduht Homr. — Bakar^ NorlhunplDiiddn, . H

1 ODiniLlarnm.— From B print hjHouhmkm. M

S. CunoooKi Caittlk, Iiln of Wight.—From n Tin In

Miidir'i Hampahln, . .Si

e. Piu OuHiua^cmiai, Nnrpart, Iila ol WIfht, tha
hoQH In wfaldh Cbftrlet L met tfan parllunantMrT
ocmmteloHn in ISM,— Prom in orlgiul thatch, SI

P. Budbr, s:

VBrvmnnHuL—tlia Trial o( Charia I —Adapts
b; J. L. WllltauDi from (ha frantiiplaCB to Kalaim'i
II«piirtaltbaTrial,16S4, . . . s;

Tim bj J. T. Bmlth, 17

FsDHT or THE BaMORiMo Bonn. WUlihalL—
AltaBoUar,

OdwbjlL 11ovl<— nnn tha anfraring faj Logfati, fit>4
TaB OuaiHu Em Ikma Hodbk,— From a drawing

bfTntna. esi

Ml. OhHAHBiTED Homi. time of Jamea I., latalf lUBdini
Id Little MocnAaldi — From • akatch br J. W.

I, Old St. FwTi.— From tha print b

«2t

HonizB. lonnwtf In Fleet Btreat.—
From SmlUi'a Topographj of London, 0S0

Couran or THBTnR.—FRan e(chlii(ibTD, Strop, HIT
Bdui CHt1B.~From the ftontlapleee of "Coacb aiid

Sedan," a treat (lOMX ■ . . . tn

CoaTOHD or TBI TIME Or Jun I.— From ootampo-
rarr [Mtirca, . .828

Joalaa Oiclleh COM). . . . . SM

Coennm or thi Nonurr, time cf Cherlaa I.— From

Id. PmtTUi COSTDMIB.— From prlnta ot

LI. Th> Globe Thutb^ Bankiide, :
L3. The FojtTuva Theatu, Golda

ir WHICH BSAKBTEAKE WIB EC
bTJ.W.AniM. .

a TOHB, Btratford npon-Avo

t. Quae Chuehratd,

HoTTHE, Lrmdcm. The Urthplaoa tri
m a print hj Hollar,
laa BABrET.— Alter Comeline Janma

iL Lett^ — Style, cloae <

»Google

LIST OF ILLFSTBATIONS.

I FmiDU

CunoEtt'i Corns. vbH hi

h Bib Habbt Vaie. — PniBApriiilliTHod1askai,kn4r
Or P. Ulr, «

1. Bninor THETunorCuDLB Il.^Pnm UuMlof
Uh lAnl U(b->duiiml JiiDB, Diika of York, onl ■
prloi of Uk* fiEfiiKl. , IT,

1. OnouL Vm or lAin»( nooai thi Oiut Fni^
lak« ftva tbo Tooar of S^ Miut Otbjh, Honlb-
<nit. — CuWUIt copiK) bf J. W. Antur, troa

i. Tbohu (huonc, E>r1 of Omubj.—Fnm i

iAkSIiP. Loljr.
1. ]|DH.~Fim ui Did print kn U» Britidi 1

1. TBI Rn BocsE.
r. Loul WrujtM I

fiaa print

no

!. Auioaot SiDNET.— Fim Lodge'! Portnfia, . TI3

>. The THi-KBKiFg.— Pram > ipecinini at Abtatafcrd, TIS
>. Tmrcu or the Boon.— FocMndlt of Uh foint lu

VlUw' Pnii* Crimioli Pnwiiisiidi, . 719

1. JiHD It.— Fnim B print bf Vactoe, iftn KuJbr, 731

s Dgtch piiat in Iba Cntwis Pnust, Brittih

I. JtMBt, DiJiE or HoawcTH.— Fmu a Bo> print tltiw

WiariDf, t:

5, JtmjE JXTTSm.— Ftdiu a flue print mftcr Enollo . TJ
g. Tbe White Bht, Tsonton, ItBuji/tmiaiaofdaiiat
"tb* BloodT AKiia. "— Fmu a ikiloli bj J. W.

I'l ttlliduili|l iB

Id Uw Britidi H

Ul Oui LoHDox WinsMiK. a:

US. Ola Lovdcv Beuioe, tiin

HoUnr,
IM. Fun or LOHDOM At TBI CI

otUwOiHt Fin, . m

Cam.-ifi>. tima if

Chaib. II. ud Ju» II. -Fn-

b7l>ljuidOH<

All-Rom .'ptctmis tlma rf

L-htll- 11.. .

h-F™. ii •psdium doc °p IB

Bni CBEin»^Bi W>D>.-ARot Sir 0. KnaUir. ;

■.■».iiiB«hl.d>

■n.H0.pit.i, , Tl
omth. print brFuUiana, - 7
iKD Thee, in P«tj Fnua. Wait-

iniiirt«.-Dr.T

hf J. W. ARlur, a«n hl> Aitti

byT. B. B:^ft™lU..k«ohoi.th8.pot. 71
Sabuei BtmHU-From e print (kj V,rt«, attar

From a print br Vnto., altar

jEBKt TiTion.-
DusCor UabtUn

Ubnuj. I««lao.
BiiUati Uoaom

FVom Uw portrait bj- Lombart. in

ana print brB-Whita. . . Tl
lom a dnirinc b; R. WUta, in tbt

n

»Google

THE

COMPREHENSIVE

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

BOOK VL— CONTINUED.

CHAPTER IX.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY— a,d. 1547—1549.

EDWARD 1

— ACCESSION,

A.D. 1647-DEATH, A.I>. 1553.

Awtii VI. inccesdi to Qit crown— Cli«tiLctBr of tbe Uu king— EdnoiHon of Edw»rd VI.— HU oirly proficiODcx
— Rii goTBraon daring hi* minoTit; — The Eirl of Bertfurd'i intrigaes for ixntei^—Uc u ^ppointsd pratector
— Hii difReult; in fnlfllling the Ut« kiui'a anstgamentt— Penrioiu and prurootion of leveTiil cDuiiiBn— Tlio
pTotaeloT Iwcoma Dnka of Soiuenet — Bnml of ths old kii% and coron&tion ot thr now — Ths protector'a
todoiTiMin to incTUM) hia pairar — Hs diiplacea tlig CliaucelloT Southunpton — Kb tnkea into bis own bands
tlia nacntive f^TannDent— Prepamtiona for a war with Scotland— Tronblad aUta ot Scotland at thipi period
— Tb» proteotor iniadea Scotland — Hia progma on tlia Bordent — Hia ancampniant at PreatonpaDa — Tka
poBtion of the Seottiah arnij— Battle of Finkie— Defeat of the Scota— The proteator, after ]>ia Ttctory, rebuma
to England— CaOMS of liia haat? relnm— DifdcQltiee of the Beformatioa in England— The kingdom divided
into aix eirenita— Visitation over these circuit* to eetabliah tlia Raformatioii— Oppoaition of the bialiopa
Bocner and Gardiner — Beforma in cliuroh and atata enacted by parliament— Law a againat meiidicitj — Crsii-
Diar'i aoeleaiaatical altetmtiona — They are oppoaad by Biihop Oardioer — Gardiner eent to the Townr— Affain
of Scotland— ScotUnd iuraded— The Scota aaaiated by troops from Franca — Hary of Scotland tent to France
and affianced to tbe danphin — Skirmiahea in Scotland — Unfavourable cl6ae of thia infaaion- Troubles of the
protector from hia brother, Sir Thomaa Soymour — Sir Thomas appointed high-admiral — Cbaraotenof the
two brothan — Amhitiam proceedinja of the admiral — Ha uarria* Catliariue Fur, the qaeen-dowagei — En-
dckToora to aapplaat the protectoi^lntrigaea for the ofSce of gOTemor to Uia lung— Chargea brought agaioet
him on liii trial— He aubmita, and ia reconciled to hia brotbei^-ITa continnaa his ambitiaua praotioee — fie [i
>l ftttanipting to marry the Princea* Elizabeth— He ia sent to the Tower- Hit trial and eiacntio:i.

Although King lUarj had

breatbed hia last at an earlj hour
on the moraing of Friday, the
S8th of Jaoaaiy, it is remarkable
that the parliament, which, as
the law then stood, was dissolved
bj his death, met, pursuant to ad-
journ ment, on Saturday the 29th, and
proceeded to bosinees as usual. lDfact,the
demise of the crown was kept concealed till
Monday tbe Slot, when it was announced to the
two houses, assembled together, by tlie Chancellor
Wriothcsley. The news, accoriiing to the Lords'
Jounwla, "was unspeakably sad and sorrowful
to all the hearers, die chancellor himself being
almont disabled by his tears from uttering tbe
words." They soon, however, "composed their
lamentations aTid consoled their griefs" by calling
to raind the promise of excellence already held out
by the youUiful sncc«an>r to the throne. Tbe
V01.U.

same rapid transition "from grave to gay," the
ordinary formality on such occasions, was ob-
served in like manner at the first meeting of the
privy council with the new king.

It is hard to believe that, either in high placcK
or in low, any other feeling thaJi a sense of relief
and of freer breathing could have been produced
by the dissolution of so terrible a tyranny as that
of Henry VIII. had latterly become. It has been
the fashion with our historians to hold forth this
king, the storm of whose selfish passions fortun-
ately chanced to throw down or to shake some
old and strong abuses that might not otherwise
have been so readily got rid of, ss the object oF
the love and pride of his sulijects, as well as of
the respect of foreign nations, to the last. Hia
position and the circiiai stances of the time must
have always given him an importance abroad,
and mode his movements be watched with con-
siderable anxiety; which would not be dimtit-

lOT

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENOLAXn.

[UlVIL AHIl MlLlTART.

ished by liis extreme wilfulncaa, and the sudden-
new of those gusis of temper and inclination
that chiefly detennioed his conrse, althoagh the
very BAtne cauaee impaired hia real power of
being either nerviceable or formidable to hia
neighbourn. But, at home, do higher aeDtiment
than one of aelf-interest cau well be supposed to
have attached anybody to so sanguinary and
heartiesa a despot; and it is evident that an op-
pressive fear and bewilderment was the state
into which his ferocious rule had thrown the
generality of men in all classes. We see this
alike in the prostrate servility of the parliament,
and in the silent, despairing aubraiasion, after
the failure of one or two convidsive local revolts,
of the great body of the people. His son Eil-
ward, indeed, has aet it down in his Journal,'
that when " the death of
Ilia father was ahowed
in London," the same day
on which the annonncc-
ment was made to parlin'
ment, there "waa great
lamentation and weep-
ingi' and he had nodoubt
been informed that such

, poss:

bly, with a simplicity na-
tiiml to his age and stn-
tion, lie took it for gratit-
ed that it could not have
been otherwise. But it
would have been inter-
esting to be told by which
of the two great parties
that divided the popu-
lation Henry was thus

regretted — by the ad- Edtud vi.-

herents of the Roman

church, or by the friends of the new opinions.
The former could hardly have remembered him
with any feelings that would find their vent in
tears; to the latter the accession of the new king
waa the dawning of a fresh day from which they
had everything to hope.

Edward, when the crown thus descended upon
hia head, had entered hia tenth year, having been
Iwrii, as before related, on the 12th of October,
1637. He hnd been '' brought up," aa he tells ua
himaelf, " till he came to six years old, among the
women." He was then placed under the tuition
of Dr. Cox and Mr, Cheke, " two wull-leai-ned
men, who sought to bring hitn up'iu learning
of tongues, of the Scripture, of philosophy, and
all liberal sciences." Another of the persona
intrusted with the direction of hia education.

' Printml hj Bi
dli at KaoofU lo

ittlUorpi^atRifBrr

according to Strype, was Sir Anthony CooV,
"famous for hia five learned daughters." Fe
hud also masters for the French language and
other accomplishments. In all tliese studies he
had mode an uncommon progress for his years,
and had been distinguished for a docility and
diligence that would have been remarkable even
in one who was not a prince and heir to a throne.
"He was so forward in his learning," says Bur-
net, " that, before he was eight years old, he
wrot« Latin letters to his father, who was n.
prince of that stem severity that one can hardly
think that those about his son durst cheat him
by making lettera for him."' All Prince Ed-
ward's tutors were favourera of the Eeforroed
opinions in religion, to which also his mother
had been attached; and they hnd been perfectly
successful in instilling
their own views into tlie
mind of their pupil, who,
even in hia early boy-
hood, was already avet^
zealous if not a learned
theologian.

Edward, when hia fa-
ther died, was residing
at Hertford,' whither his
uncle, the Earl of Hei-t-
ford, and Sir Thomas
Brown, master of the
horse, immediately pro-
ceeded, and, having
brought him to Gufiel.l,
there announced the
event to him and bis
sister Elizabetli.' Tlie
•■ - grief of the new king

Aftgr uoibBiD. did not last long, any

more than thatof hissub-
jectfi. He entered London on the afternoon of
Monday, tlie Slat, on the morning of which the
news of Henry's decease had been made public
and hia own accession procltumed, and, amid a
great concourse of the nobili^ and others, took
his way straight to the Tower.' The next day,
Tuesday, the 1st of Februaiy, the gTeat«r part
of the nobility, both spiritual and temporal, as-
sembled about three o'clock in the afternoon, in
the presence chamber, where, after they bad all
knelt and kissed his m.ijesty's hand, saying every
one of them, " God save your Grace ! " the lord-

' Bona irf Ilm mrlj lutin IstUn of FrUioo Edvard to hli It-
tL wkdDthfiTB nuT be toaad in BtFTp«'i BcctoiatHtal UtHorialf,

of Bytffilah HiitoTy. OthWA 01? tti FoK'i Martjfjvloffg^ unit In
Fwllw" Ckurrl. Iltlory.

mom Ut« wriun hiie followgd, n)i hs wu It ButOald.

> EixUm. at<m. ii. 31 . BtiTpi qiwUI u hii uthoritr for Iliiw
dttalli u qScU nmrd in Ui« Utnldi' CoUisa.

»Google

i.D. 1547-1649.]

EDWARD VI.

duuioellor proceeded to decl&re the purport of the
deceased king's tut will and testament, which,
however, had been in part read to the parliament
the day before. It appeared that Ueury hail
iioiiiiii&t«d the followiug sixteen peraonH to be
Ida executors, and to hold the office of goTernora
of his eon and of the kingdom tjll Edward should
li&ve completed bis eighteenth
year :— Thomas Cnwmer, Arch-
bishop of Canterboiy ; Thomaa
Wriothealey, Barou Wriothesley,
the lord-chanccllor; William Pau-
let, Baron St John, master of the
household ; John Bussell, Baron
BoaaeU, lord privy-Beal ; Edward
Seymour, Earl of Hertford, lord
(;reat-chnTuberlain; John Dudley,
Viscount U ale, lord-adm iml ; Cuth-
bert Tonstal, Bishop of Dnrham;
Sir Anthony Brown, master of the
horse ; Sir William Paget, secrr
taryof state; Sir Edward North,
chancellor of the court of augmeii-
tntioUB ; Sir Edward Montague,
cbief-JMstice of the Common Fleas;
Thomas Bromley, one of the justi-
ces of the King's Bench; Sir An-
thony Denny and Sir John Herbert,
gentlemen of the privy chamber ; Sir Edward Wot-
lon, treasurer of Calais; and Dr. Nicolas Wotton,
(lean of Canterbury. To these were added twelve
otUerrt, under the name of a privy council: they
were, Henry Fitzalan, Earl of Arundel; William
Parr, Earl of Essex ; Sir Thomas Cheyney, tresr
surer of the household ; Sir John Gage, comp-
troller ; Sir Anthony Wingfield, vice-chamber-
lain ; Sir William Petre, secretary of state ; Sir
Bichard Bich; Sir John Baker; Sir Balph Sad-
ler; Sir Thomas Seymonr; Sir Richard South-
well; and Sir Edmund Peckham. These latter,
however, were to have no real power or authority,
their functions being limited to the simple right
of giving their opinion or advice when it was
asked for. After he had recited the names of
the council of government, the chancellor made au
announcement which was more iraportaut, and
must have made a greater sensation among his
hearers than anything he had yet communicated.
From the first prospect of the new reign, the
Earl of Hertford, the uncle of the young king
tliat waa to be, had begun to intrigue and lay his

plana for seeming to himself the chief place in
the government, llie following anecdote is re-
lated by Strype;— ''While King Heniy lay on
his death-bed in his palace at Westminster,' Sir
Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford, and Sir
William Paget, amoug others, were at court; and
Paget, being secretary of state, was much about

HoLBEiH 0*Tc, Old

his person, whom, being a man wise and learned,
and well versed in the afTaira of state, both by
reason of his office and his several embassies
abroad, the earl prudently mode choice of for his
iuward friend and counsellor. By the king's
desperate condition the earl, well perceiving the
crown ready to fall upon Prince Edward's (his
nephew'a) head; ijefore the breath was out of his
body, took a walk with Paget iu the gallery,
where he held some serious conference with him
concerning the government. And immediately
after the king was departed, they met again, the
earl devising with him concerning the high place
he was to hold, being the next of kin to the
young king. Paget at both meetings freely and
at large gave him his advice, for the safe mana-
gery of himself and of the mighty trust likely to
be reposed in him ; and the earl then promised
him to follow his counsels in all his proceedings
more than any other man's."' At the first meet-
ing of the executors after the kinj^s death, Hert-
ford had succeeded in achieving the object of his
ambition. When it was proposed that, for the

R called Whltdwll. wli«n ntarj
Vlir. diid.nib<nmd^oD one ilda by ths puk whloh Ri»b»
loSt. J*Iiin'Pilw)g,U]daD thmtlw iidsbjllia Thum. It
wu DTifimllj callfld Vork HooMe, tnm iU bvlDf ths paUoo of
a* Anbblabop of York. CudlniO WoIhj' wu ths lul iirh.
UAap wbo nldid In H. ud vhan h* lait tb* r(7>] hTonr, It j gluvl :
*u ukaa poHHloB of bj Honry VIII. AFUr HOLiT hid Ap- I TodooK
proprluad lt> UmMir tlili eplKC^ rstdmoii, he built a Bug- wu nt
fejcmt gatdumH lu ftvai of U, oppoaltc th« entruioa Into tha ' Cromw

D BdI-

iedl«t«]j look Into hli

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cmi. AXD MiiJTABT.

more ecaiTenieut deapfttch of baeiDew, one of their
number shoiild be appointed merelj tn be a sort nf
repreaentative or mouth-piece of ti»e whole, anch
tn umnKemeiit whs objected to hy the Cban-
eellor Wriothealey, who eoat«ncled that it would
bt a vioUtion of the will, which mode them all
eqoaJ, but who at the satne time protublj hoped
to be able, without any formal appointment, to
get into hJB own hande the chief power in the
goTemraent bj nteans eimpl; of the eminent
office he filled. He was also well aware who the
president would be if one should be elected, and
that with Mich a choice the whole policy of the
govern ment would be turned sgainst the interest
to which he attached himself; for Wriothesley
was now accounted the head of the Cutholic
parly, as Hertford was the strength and hope of
the Protestants. The chancellor, however, seems
to have stood alone, or nearly alone in his oppo-
sition; on seeing which he gave up the point,
and consented to go along with his colleagnes ;
and in the end, after short debate, the Earl of
Hertford was nnanimously nominated Protector
of the Realm and Governor of the kin^s person,
the panimonnt authority implied in, and neoes-
sarily conveyed by theee high titles being, how-
ever, vainly enough, attempted to be limited by
the condition that he should not do any act
without the advice and consent of the majority
of theexecutois. The chancellor now annonnced
to the nobility assembled around the king in the
presence chamber that all the eiecutora bad
agreed " that the Earl of Hertford should be
governor of the young king during his nonage."
"Whereupon all the said lords made answer in
one voice, that there was none bo meet for the
same in all the realm as he ; and said also that
they were well content withal." ' The boy-king
then returned them thanks, from himself, by
which he may be nnderstood to have intimated
his assent to what the execnlora had done.

Hertford and his associates, however, had a
great deal more to do for themselves than they
bad yet accomplished. A strange clause appeared
in Henry's will, requiring them tJ make good
alt that he had promised in any manner of way;
and it was afBrraed that he had reiterated this
injunction verbally, with great eamestnesB, to
those of them who were in attendance upon him
while he lay on his death-bed. When the matter
CMne to be inquired into, it was foand that these
unperformed engagements, or rather intentions
(for in most cases they do not seem to have
amounted to promises), of the deceased king,
nearly all regarded certain additional honours
and other good things which he meant to bestow
upon the executors themselves. Such at least
was the testimony of Paget, Denny, and Herbert,

' UtiTpe, Eetla. Mm. IL £1,

to whom alone it appeared that he had coramn-
nicated the particulars, fiurnet gives the follow-
ing account; — "Paget declared that when the
: evidence appeared against the Duke of Norfdk
' and his eon the Earl of Surrey, the king, who
' used to talk oft iu private with him alone, told
I him that he intended to bestow their lands libo-
' rally ; and since, by attainders and other ways,
the nobility were much decayed, he intended to
' create some peers, and ordered him to write r
book of such as he thought roeeteet." Paget then
proposed that the Earl of Hertford should be
made a duke, and named, besides, a number of
other peiw>nB who should be ennobled, or raised
to a higher rank in the peerage. He "also pro-
posed a distribution of the Duke of Norfolk's
estate ; but the king liked it not, and made iSr.
Gates bring him the books of that estate, which
I being done, he ordered Paget 'to tot upon the
Earl of Hertford' (these are the words of his de-
position) 1000 marks ; on the T^rds Lisle, SL
John, and Rossell, ^200 a-yeor; to the Lord
Wriothesley, £100; and for Sir Thomas Seymour,
£300 a-year; but Paget said it was too little, and

stood long arguing it with him And

he, putting the king iu mind of Denny, who
had been oft a suitor for him, but had never
yet in lieu of that obtained anything for Denny ;
the king ordered ;£200 for him, and 400 marks
for Sir William Herbert, and remembered some
other likewise." Some of the persons that were
mentioned for promotion, however, on being
spoken to, desired to remain in their present
ranks, on the ground that the lauds the king pro-
posed to give were not sufficient for the main-
tenance of the honours to be conferred on tiiem ;
and other circumstances also induced the king
to change his mind as to some pointe. At last,
after many consultations, the nutter was finally
settled as follows:^"The Earl of Hertford ta
be earl-marshal and lord-treasurer, and to be
Duke of Somerset, Exeter, or Hertford, and his
son to be Earl of Wiltshit«, with £800 a-year of
land, and £300 a-yeor out of the next bishop's
land that fell void ; the Earl of Essex to be Mar-
quis of Essex ; the Viscount Lisle to be Earl of
Coventry; the Lord Wriothesley to be Earl of
Winchester ; Sir Thomas Seymour to be a baron
and lord-admiral : Sir Richard Rich, Sir John
St. Leger, Sir WiUiam Willoughby, Sir Edward
Sheffield, and Sir Chriatopher Danby, to be h&-
roDS, with yearly revenues to them and several
other persons. And having, at the suit of Sir
Edward North, promised to give the Earl of
Hertford six of the best prebends that should
fait ill any cathedral, except deaneries and trea-
Burerships, at his (the duke's] suit, he (the king)
agreed ^at a deanery and a treasurership should
be instead of two of the six prebendaries." Pa-

»Google

A.D. 1547-1549.]

EDWAHD TI,

get's t«atuuoiiy wu eoDfirmed in all pointa hy
Denny and Herbert, who said, that when the
secretary left the chamber the king had told
them the snbBtonce o( what had passed between
them, and hud luade Dennj read the particulars
us set down in writing. "Whereupon," it
added, "Herbert observed, that the secretary
hod remembered all but himself; to which the
king answered, he should not forget him ; and
ordered Denny to write £400 a-year for him."
Thus one of these disinterested friends was al-
ways at hand, at the moment of need, to hel]j
another. The executors now resolved to fulfil
their late master's intentions, both, as Burnet
puts it, "out of conscience to the king's will, and
fot their own honoara" — that is, wc must sup-
pnoe, for the sake of the honours and profits that
would thereby accrue to them. They wet
some difficulty about finding the means of paying
the Tarious pecuniary allowances, being unwill-
ing, it seems, to sell the royal jewels or plate, or
otherwise to diminish the king's treaanre or i*eTe-
nue, in caae of a war with France or the empe-
ror ; hut they eventually found a resource in the
sale of tlie chantry lands. Most of the new
peerages designed by Heniy were conferred, only
in moat cases other titles were chosen. Eeeei
became Marquis of Northampton; lisle. Earl of
Warwick; Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton; Sir
Thomas Seymour was made Baron Seymour of
Sndley and lord high-admiral ; Rich became Baron
Rich; Willoughby, Baron Willoughby; Sheffield,
Baron Sheffield. St. L^er and Danby declined
both peerage and pension. As for Hertford, he
"grew," to borrow the eipreaaionof his admirer,
Strype, "an exceeding great man, swelling with
titles." "This," proceeds the historian, "was bis
style: Thu most Noble and Victorious Prince
Edward, Duke of Somerset, Earl of Hertford,
Viaconut Beauchamp, Lord Seymour, Governor
of the pemoD of the King's Majesty, and Protec-
tor of all bis Bealms, his Lieutenant-general of
alt his aimies both by land and by sea, liord
Uigh-treaanrer, and Earl -marshal of England,
Governor of the Isles of Guernsey and Jersey,
and Knight of the most Noble Order of the
Garter." "Jkoaiue he was thus great," it ia
added, however, "so be also was a very generoos
and good man, and a sincere favourer of the
gospel ; he was entirely beloved of those that
professed it, and for the most part by the popu-
lacj; and, therefore, was commonly called The
Good Duie.' ' Burnet admits, that "when it was
known abroad what a distribution of honour and
wealth the council had resolved on, it was much
censured ; many saying that it was not enough
fortbem to have drained the dead king of all his
treamre, but that the first step of their proceed-

> &da. Mm. U. M.

inga in their new trust was, to provide honours
and estates for themselves ; whereas it had been
a more decent way for them to have reserved
their preteosionB till the king had come to be of
age." He even goes the length of insinuating

PnoTicnis J

— AAa Holbnn.

that there was much reason for doubting tbo
'hole stoiy of Paget and his fellow-deponents,
inasmuch as the will on which they pretended
to found it bore date on the 30th of December,
whereas their account appeared to impl; that it
was not drawn up till nearly a month later, wbeu
Henry was on his death-bed.'

The ceremonies of burying the old, and crown-
ing the new king, were the first afEairs that occu-
pied the government. King Henry, after lying
' state at Whitehall till the 14th of February,
s removed to Sion House, and thence to Wind-
sor, where he was interred in SLGeorge's Chapel,
the 16tb, with extraordinary magnificence.'
Foot days after the funeral of Henry, the
coronation of his son took place in Westminster
Abbey, in a numner varied in some respects from
the ancient form, partly, ss it was declared in
the order or programme, " for the tedious length
of the same, which should weary and be hurt-

1 peradventure to the king's majesty, being
yet of tender age, fully to endure and bide out ;
and also for that many points of the came were
such as by the laws of the realm at this present
not allowable." The most material inno-

in, however, was in the commencing cere-
mony, in which, instead of the king, as hereto-
fore, first taking the oath to preserve the liberties

lug that ia bad bg^ utleipiittd bj Bun
" " ■ Iho ■Monnt printed bj Bttyp* •'

itjoD, nitJiont Dotl"-
11 IniBtfa, lu £>Tl<i,

« B.Google

HISTOHY OF ENGLAND.

[Cl71I. AITD UtUllRT.

of tlie realm, and being then presented to the
people, who were aaked by tbe archbishop if they
werewilliug t« accept him and obej him m their
liege lord, the order of tbe oath and the presen-
tatioQ was reversed— the former not being admi-
uiatered till after the king had been shown by
the archbishop, whose addresa to the people also,
as Burnet has observed, waa couched "in such
terms as should demoostrate he was no elective
prince; for he, being declared tbe rightfnl and
undoubted heir, both by the laws of Qod and
man, they were desired to give their good-wills
and assents to the same, as by their duty of alle-
giance tbey were bound to do." As usual, a ge-
neral p.irdon for state offenders waa proclaimed,
from which, however, were excepted, uloug with
a few other nami^ those 61 the Duke of Norfolk
and Cardinal Pole.

The "Good Duke," with all his eminence of
station and sounding titles, was far from being
yet satisfied with the position he had attained.
So long as the chancellor (»mtinned a member of
tbe council,SomersetmuBthavefelt that his exer-
cise of supreme power would be subject to a con-
stant check ; and the crafty Southampton (Wri-
othealey), on the other hand, seems to have been
by no means thrown into despair, or any thought
of abandoning his post, by bia discomfitui-e in
their first trial of strength. In fact, it may be said
to have been the eagerness with which he allowed
himself to be carried away and absorbed by his
political functions, that brought about his ruin.
" itesolving,* as Burnet says, "to give himself
wholly to matters of state," in order that he might
have time to attend the daily meetings of the
council, on tbe IStti of Febraary, without con-
sulting bis colleagaes in the government, he put
the great seal to a commiasioD in the Icing's name,
empowering four masters of his court, or any
two of them, to hear all manner of causes in his
absence, and giving to their decrees the same
force as if they had been pronounced by himself,
on condition only that they should be signed by
htra before their enrolment This act of impru-
dence was immediately pounced upon by the op-
posite party; the subject waa referred to the
judges, who declared that the chancellor had
committed an oKnce against the king which was
punishable at common law with the loss of ofSce,
and fine and imprisonment at the royal pleasure.
Southampton, afWr an attempt to maintain the
legality of the commission, offered to submit to
have it revoked, if it were deemed illegal ; but
these terms of accommodation were of coarse re-
jected; and, at last, on the 6th of March, the
council resolved that the great seal should be
taken from him, and that he should, in the mean-
time, be confined to his residence at Ely House,
and be fined as should be aft«rwanl8 thought

fitting. He remained a prisoner in his own
house for nearly four months, and was only then
discharged after he had entered into a reeogiiiz-
ance of .£4000, to pay whatever fine shonld be
imposed upon him. " Thus fell the Icvd-chan-
cellor," says Burnet; "and in him the Popish
party lost their chief support, and the protector
his most emulous rival.' Burnet acknowledges
tliat the proceedings against him " were sum-
mary and severe, beyond the usage cf the privy
council, and without the common forms of legnl
processed.*

The next measure of the protector wss to tolce
into his own bonds the entire power of the exe-
cutive government A week after the ejectiou
of Southampton, by a commiaaion running iu the
king's name, and signed by himself utd his
friends Cranmer, St. John, Rnssell, Northamp-
ton, Cheyney, Paget, and Brown, tbe duke was
declared governor of the king and protector of
the kingdom, withoat any participation on the
part of the council, which was indeed dissolved,
by the members being united in a new oouacil
with the twelve persons who had been appointed
to he their advisers by Henry's will, aud the
whole being now constituted a naere council of
advice, the protector being at the same time em-
powered to add to their numbers to any extent
he pleased. Iu other words, Somerset was iu-
veated with the whole of the royal authority,
and, iu everything save the name, made King of
England.

The frame of the government at home being
thus settled, the attention of the protector wss
immediately called to foreign affiurs. The treaty
uf Campes (Tth June, 1946), had, as already re-
lated, both established peace with France anil
suspended active hostilities with the Scots, al-
though Henry bad continued to keep up a secret
intercourse with tbe Froteatanta in Scotland, as
the party opposed to tbe govemment of the Eari
of Arran, audJiad, after the murder of Cardinal
Beaton, openly sent supplies to the authors of
that atrocity, whom Arran was in vain endea-
vouring to dislodge &om the castle of St An-
drews. Henry, on his death-bed, is said to have
enjoined the lords of his council that tbey should
leave nothing undone to bring about the mar-
riage between his son and the infant Queen of
Scots, on which he had so strongly set his heart;
and bis desire no doubt was that they should
pursue that object, as he himself would have
done had he lived, either, as opportunity aiwl
circumstances might seem to invite, by negotia-
tion and intrigue, or by a " rouf^er wooing.
Someraet, accordingly, now addressed a letter •*
the Scottish nobility, strongly urging upon them
the policy as well as the obligation of f\iiriilii^
" the promises, seals, and oaths, which, by public

,v Google

>. 1047-1549.]

EDWARD TI.

aathoritT, liad pnaaed for coacludiug this mar-
rUge.*' Thia appeal, howerer, prodaced little
effect npon the fMctj that now predominated in
Scotland. In fact, immediate!; after thia, hoati-
iities between the two coun-
tries recommenced, with an
encounter bet ween an Englbh
veaael called the Patuy, com-
manded by Sir Andrew Dud-
ley, brother to the Earl nf
Warwick, and the LUin, "a
principal ahip of Scotland.''
Both countries were n] ready
making preparatiooa for a
war on a greater scale, when
an event happened that n)at«-
rially nffecteil tlieir position
towards each other. fVancis
I. died at Kambouillet on
the Slat March ; thus surriv-
iog by little more than two
months the King of England,
with whom he had been so rouim or tkk c

conatautly connected, either
na a friend or au enemy, for more than thirty
years. Since the accession of Edward, how-
ever, arrangements had been made for having
the late alliance between the two crowns re-
newed : and the treaty had, in fuct, been conclud-
ed at London, and wanted only to be formally
ratifitd by Francis at the time of his death.
That heaviest blow, as it was consideivd at
the moment, that could have befallen the Pi-o-
teatant causo on the Continent, enabling the em-
peror, as it did, to cany everytbiog before him
fnr a time both in Germany and in Italy, soon
appeared likely to be no leas diaastroua to the
some interest in Scotland. Henry II., the son and
sncceaaor of Francia, preserved for a little while
a ahow of amicable intercourse with England;
but it was sufficiently evident from the first what
coarse he was about to take. Under the control
of the Duke of Ouiae and the Cardinal of Lor-
i-aine, the brothers of the queen-dowager of Scot-
land, who DOW, along with Arrsn, stood at the
head of the Catholic; party and of the established
Jtovemment in that country, the politics of the
new King of France immediately evinced a com-
plete return te the old ayatem of a close alliance
with the Scots, as affording the most effective
means of annoying and ernliarraasing England.
When the treaty of London was presentad to
Henry IT., he refused to sign it; and soon after
lie openly took part in the war ou the aide of the
Scottish government by sending a fleet of sixteen
galleya, under the command of Leo Strozzi, prior
of Capua, to assist the regent in reducing the
castle of St. Andrews. Airan, after lying for

'BauiMnotuItbaMtwlii ffa)>nnl. ' Ibid.

five months before this fortress, had made a trace
with the gairisoa in February: and when the
French galleys arrived, in the end of June, he
was engaged on a plundering expedition beyoud

ufn.E or St. ahiuxvc. — Fn*m a dnwinf bf J. 01iphshi»

the western marches, from which, however, he
hastened home, bringing with him, according to
the Scottish historians, a great booty, as soon aa
he heard that the foreign Auxiliaries had made
their appearance. Meanwhile, the holders of the
castle in the beginning of March had concluded
two treaties with the English protector, by which
they bound themselves by every means in their
power to procure the marriage of the infant
Queen of Scotland with King Edward, and en-
gaged to give their best aid to an English army
which ahould be forthwith sent to Scotland to
obtain poasession of the queen. It was also sti-
pnlated, that aa soon as that object should be
efllected they afaonld deliver the castle to the
commisaioDWS of the English king. But the
force that was now brought against them soon
put an end to all hope of their continuing te bold
out A blockade bj sea, cutting off their usual
supplies, was now added te a much more skilful
and effective bombardment from the land than
Arran's Scottish engineers had been able to di-
rect against them in the former siege. At last, on
the S9tli of July, a great breach was made, and
on the following day the besieged, among whom,
to add to their other straits and sufferings, a pes-
tilential sickness had for sometime been making
considerable ravages, agreed te capitulate on con-
dition only that their lives should be sjiareil, and
that they should be conveyed to France. Arran
recovered his eldest son, whom the murderer* of
the cardiiial had found in the castle, and whom
they had detained in captivity during the four-
teen months they bad held the phuie. Amony
the prisoners carried to France was the famous

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil asd Uilhaht.

John Enox, who had joined Norman Lesly and
hie companions after the truce made with Arran
in the preceding February. The castle of St.
Andrews was demolished by order of the Soot-
tiah privy council. It hoe ever since remained a

The English protector had been for Boms time
boay collecting an army for the invawon of Scot-
land J and by the end of Augnst he was ready to
set out for the north at the head of a well-ap-
pointed fores, which appears to have amounted
to above 20,000 men, of whom 6000 were cavalry ;
a fleet of sixty-five veasela, of which thirty-fiv(
were ships of war, and the remainder laden with
ammunition and victuals, being equipped
company the expedition, under the command of
the Ijord Clinton. A joumal of this in
8cotknd is extant, written by a person who
served in the protector's army, which ib not only
one of the most minutely curious records of that
age, but one of the most vivid pictures of the
realities of war ever drawn,' The author.
Fatten, was conjoint judge-marshal of the army
along with tlie afterwards celebrated William
Cecil, and hia work is dedicated to Paget, whom
he Btyles " his most benign fautor and patron."
He is, of course, a professed worshipper of his
grace of Somerset, upon whom ha heaps his lau-
dation throughout with nnbounded prodigality.
Yet, allowance being made for some coni-tly
embellishment, he evidently, in the main, sets
down what he aaw with his own eyes, and he
teila his story with a hearty gosuping relish
that of itself betokens a keen and quick-sighted
observer.

The army having been collected at Newcastle,
the protector rode thither from London, and was
met six miles from the town on Saturday, the
27th of August, by Warwick, the lord-lieute-
nant, and Sadler, the master-treasurer. The
next day a muster of the whole force was held;
and on Monday, the 89th, they set forwaH for
the Borders. Reaching Berwick on Priday. the
2d of September, they found there Lord Clinton
with the fleet, which immediately put to sea
while the army rested a day, and then, on the
Snnday, set forward on its march close along the
shore. Having made their way, on the 6th,
across the deep glen or valley of the Peathn, or
the Pease (as it is commonly jirononneed), at

'" Th. EipBlilkm Idlo SooUuid or th. nu^ wortWl, forluii.
hM PfiEug Edwud Dnlu of SonuBt, otmle to mi meal nobis
BoTimlfn I»rf tb« Rliv'i Ktittj Edwvd tha VI,. OoTBnwr
of hb UlahaW Pmon. ud Pratootirr of hli Onot'i ndni^
domlBfcm^ uid •ub;»u ; nud* Id Uia Ont ^w of Ui H«]«t^.
mow praqmroui wlgn, ud Hi out hj ir^ of DlMj. Bf W.
r.ttm, Undonn.- ThI. nin-li™, whloh vu Bnt pnblldKU
It t<nKl«i In IMS, «u nipriiiM tn (IMIjrtl.) Pmfmmu -tf

ltd, Edln. iros. of *

00 ooplm. ratla'i Hitty,

Cockbumspath, the invaders began the work of
war by sitting down before Donglas Castle, a
bold belonging to Sir Ceorge Douglas. The txp-
tain, Matthew Hume, the son of a brother of
Lord Hume, made no vain show of resistance,
but soon came forth, " and bronght with him,"
says our joumaUst, "hia band to my lord's grace,
which was of twenty-one sober (poor) soldiers,
all so apparelled and appointed that, so God help
me {I will say it for no pruse), I never saw snch
a hunch of beggars come out of one house toge-
ther in my life." Six of the most decent of these
aoarecrowa were detained; the rest were allowed
" to gea their gate,"— that is, to go their way,—
with an admonition that they wonld be hanged
the next time Ihcy were caught. The castle was
afterwards blown np with gunpowder, as wer«
also Thornton and Anderwick, two other jwels
or strongholds belonging to Lord Hume.

The invading force continued its march close
to the German Ocean, and, passing within gun-
shot of Dunbar, encamped for the night in the
neighbourhood of Tantallon Castle. Here they
received the first certain intelligence of die posi-
tion of the enemy. The next day, Wednesday,
the 7th, turning to the west, they crossed the
small river Lynn, the horse taking the water,
the infanby passing over by Linton bridge. A
number of Scottish prickera, or horse, were
now seen on a rising ground not far from Hailce
Castle, belonging to Earl Bothwell, some of whom
appeared to be making towards the river, with
the intention probably of picking up stragglen
or attacking the rear of the English ca^ry,
whom a sudden mist had enveloped while they
were yet crossing the water.

A communication was now established with
the fleet, which lay over against Leith; and, the
lord-admiral having come on shore, it was ar-
iged that the ships of war should fall down
the tVith, and take their stations opposite to the
town of Mnsselhnrgfa, near to which the army
lay. On the evening of the same day, Priday,
the 8th, the En^ish encamped in the neighbour-
hood of Salt Preeton, now called Prestonpans.
The two armies were now separated by a dis-
nce of little more than two miles, and each
camp was to be seen from the high grounds in
leighbourhood of the other. Both had the'
) the north, while on the south, and about
midway between them, rose, facing the west, iJie
eminence called Fslside, or Pawside Brae, the
termination of an inconsiderable range of hills
extending in a direction parallel to the sea.
npon this elevation, which was SDrraouttted by
"a sorry castle, and half a score houses of like
worthiness by it," alt tlie morning of Saturday, the
Dtb, the Scottisli horsemen were seen "prank-
ing" np and down ; bnt in the afternoon a party

,v Google

EDWAED VI.

of English cavalry, having eet out to atbick them,
Bueceeded id compelling them U> retire, though
not till after a sharp Bkirmish, id vbich sereial

lieraons were slain nnd taken prisoners on both
&idea; among others, the son and heir of Lord
Iluiue fell into the handa of the English, and
that lord liimeelf, though he escaped, was se-
verely hurt, and put hori de eombat hy a fsll
from his horse. After this afiair, Somerset,
Warwick, and others of the captains, attended
hy a guard of 300 hone, proceeded to the hili to
laJie a view of the Scottish camp. There, on the
lower ground hetween them and the declining
nin, glittered the white tenia of Arran's numer-
oita host, disposed in four long rows running from
east to wett, and about an arrow-shot asnnder,
" not unlilce to four great ridges of ripe barley."
Ripe, indeed, it might have been added, was the
living harvest for the sickle! The position of
the Bcots, however, was a very strong one : the
sea, as already mentioned, skirted them to the
north; a great marsh covered their opposite or
right flauk ; while their front wss strongly de-
fended by the river Esk flowing northward into
the sea, with no great volume of water, indeed,
hat yet with hanks ao steep and rugged as almost
to defy the approach of an enemy. The ancient
bridge over this river tbey hod token posseaaion
of and " kept well warded with ordnance j" it
stood within twelve score paces of the sea ; and
in front of the bridge, on the narrow space of
ground between it and the sea, they had also
planted two field-pieces, and stationed some hock'
butters or musketeers, under a turf wall. Be-
tween Pawside Brae and the Esk stood another
little insulated eminence, crowned by the parish
rhutch of St. Michael's of Inveresk. A herald
\0L. 11.

' and a trumpeter came to the Eu^ish camp: the
former professed to come from Arran with a
proffer of honest conditions of peace, while the
latter brought a personal chal-
lenge fi-om his master, the Lord
Huntly, to Somewet, whom the
Scottish earl asked to fight
him, either singly, or with ten
or twenty more on ench side,
and BO to decide the contest
without further effusion of
blood. The protector, as might
liave been, and no donbt wss
expected, declined both pro-
positions.

It was now resolvisl te occn-
py the hili on which stood St.
Uichael's Church, and for that
purpose, on thefollo wing morn-
ing, that of Saturday, the lotb
— long popularly remembered
in Scotland as the Blaet Satur-
day — the army wss put in mo-
tion by eight o'clock. Upon
coming in sight of the ground,
they were greatly amazed to find that the Scots
had crossed the river, and wete there before
them; for that Arran would have quitted the

advantageous position he held, and have thus

left all his strong natural defences behind bis

' Plgiue No, 1 ropiiMiita ■ hickbat. No, i, an anlugsd Bg-

ttia priming ; B, illde or ihlrfd to ooter the priming, monjitiid
wilh cfasoki U pnrtul lU InoldsliUI ntuni ; C, Unuul
whfob being pnwid >t tha dins of polUng thi triggn' [He

Id thA qulok mAloh, P, i

'; B.tbrii

lA atflok eonUdnt i

longKl lo Hsnij VIII,,

. It bum tha tKijit m

• Google

10

UISTOHY OF ENGLAND.

[C171I. AMD MlLlTART:

back, was the loat thought that could have en-
tered their heads. It should appear, hotrerer,
that the Scots were afndd of their invaderB
escaping them, and that their intention was, if
they had not been thus euconntered in the in-
termediate space, t« have attacked Somerset in
his camp. When thej saw the English approach-
ing, thej* advanced at a round pace; but their
course was immediately checked bj a discharge
of artiUerj from the admiral's gaUey, which was
BO effective as to kill between twauty and thirty
of them, their line of march, in consequence of
the situation of the bridge by which they had
passed over, being close upon the sea. This
slaughter. Patten afGnus, so scared a body of
4000 Irish (that is. Highland) archers brought
by the Earl of Argyle, "that whereas, it was
■aid, they should have beea a wing to the fore-
ward (vanguard), they could never after be made
to come forward." The whole advancing host
now moved away to the right, with the object of
gaining Fawside Brae; but here the English
were before them, and succeeded not only in oc-
cupying the brow of tbe hill, but in planting
several field-pieces upon its summit, so as to fire
over tlie heads of the men below. For this they
were indebted principally to their great supe-
riority in cavalry. As for the Scots, Fatten no-
tices it as a remarkable circumstance, that "in
ftti this enterprise they used for haste so little
I he help of horse, that they plucked forth their
ordnance by draught of meu."

When they saw the English in possession of
the hill-side, the Scots suddenly stopped, in a
fallow field, where a great ditch or slough still
divided them from the enemy. Undeterred by
this obstacle, however, the Lord Gray proceeded
to attack them, and, though many of his men
stuck in tbe alongh, and they were also impeded
by the cross ridges of the ploughed field, he
dashed on and made his way up to the Scots,
who stood atiil to receive the attack, only when
their assailants were near upon them, "striking
their pike points, and crying ' Come here, louns
(iwcals), come here, tykes (dogs), come here,
heretics,' and such like." It is affirmed that the
left wing of the Scots was at first compelled to
give way; but this seems to hare been only for
a moment; the English soon turned round in a
body to regain the hill. The Sight, in fact, seems
to have been genpral, in so far as the common
troopers were concerned ; the gentlemen alone
(or a few moments tried to make a stand; in the
rain attempt no fewer than tweuty-aiz of them
were slain; Lord Gray himself was severely
wounded in the mouth; and the Scots rushing
up to the reyal standard actually got bold of it,
and in the struggle succeeded in carrj-ing away
a part of the statT.

Patten's description of what he calls " tha
countenance of the war," up to this time, bears
vivid traces of the alarm and confusion in which
he and his countrymen found themselves. An-
other old English historian admits that "albeit
encounters between horsemen on the one side
and foot on the other, are seldom with the ex-
tremity of danger, because as horsemen aui
hardly break a battail on foot, so men on foot
cannot possibly choM horsemen ; yet hereupon
so great was tbe tumult and fear among the
English, that had not the commanders been men
both of approved courage and skill, or haply had
the Scots been well-fumisbed with men-at-arnui,
the army had that day been utterly undone."'
Warwick, in particular, exerted himself in re-
storing the self-possession of the men, assuring
them that if they would only fallow their officers,
the day was still their own. It was now seen
that the impetuosity of the Scota bad involved
an inconsiderable part of their force almost within
a complete inclosure of tlieir enemies; on which,
we proceeded, says Patten, "to compass them iu
that they should no way escape us^the which
by our power and number we were as well able
to do as a spinner's web to catch a swarm of
bees." The requisite dispositions were forthwith
made hy the sererel officers with great skill and
effect. " The master of the ordnance," continues
the narrative, "to their great annoyance did gall
them with bail shot and other out of the great
ordnance directly from tbe hill-top, and certain
other gunners with their pieces afiank from our
rearward, most of our artillery and marine en-
gines there wholly with great puissance and ve-
hemency occupied thua about them. Herewith
the full sight of our footmen, all sliadowed from
them before by onr horsemen and dust raised,
whom Uien they were ware in such order to be so
near npon them. And to this the perfect array
of our horsemen again coming courageously to
set on them afresh." The tide and current of
the "heady fight" were in a moment turned.
Tbe Scots, staggered and bewildered, first fell
back, and then began U> take t« flight Arrsn
himself, their general, is said to have been the
first to put spurs to his hotse — after him Angus;
then the Highland archers, who bad never yet
been engaged, fled in a body. " Therewith then
turned all the whole rout, cast down their wea-
pons, ran out of their wards, ofl' with their jacks,
and with all that ever they might, betook them
to the race that their governor began. Our men
had found them at the first (as what could escape
so many thousand eyes), and sharply and quickly,
with an universal outcry. They fly 1 they fly I
pursued after in chase amain; and thereto so
eagerly and with such fierceness, that they over-

»Google

*.T^ 10J7— 1648.]

EDWARD VT.

ai

toA many, and apand, iodeed, but few. The
torrent chiefly rolled itself oloDg three great
lincfl ; oDe multitade took Ibe way bj the aauda
to Leith ; another made for Edinburgh, either
bj the highroad, or throngh the enclosed ground
called the King's Fark ; a third, and that the
moat numerous, sought Dalkeith, by crossing a
lusnb, through which the English horse found
it difficult to pursue them."

Msnj thousands, however, were alangbtered
in tiie flight, the protoctor'a people giving hardly
any quarter. The prisoners taken amounted, in
all, only to about 1500— little more, accordii^ to
Patteu's account, than a tithe of tbe slain. The
most distinguished among those that fell alive
into tbe hands of the Euglish was tbe Earl of
Huntly, lord-chancellor of the kingdom, whom,
notwithstanding bis oeteolAtiaua measage to 80-
meraet by tlie tnunpet«r, the Scottiah writers
loudly accuse of treachery; the same authorities
alaa assert that tbe Uastera of Bucban, Erakiue,
and Graham, were put to death in cold blood,
"after having rendered themselves on quarter
promised."' Soon after five o'clock, however, tbe
iord-protector being, if we may believe his judge-
marshal, moved with pity at tbe aigbt of the dead
bodies, and rather glad of victory than desirous
of slaughter, staid the pursuit. But by this time
it seems to have extended up to the walla of
Edinburgh, and no more fleeing enemiea were
auywbere to be seen for tbe sword to cut down.
The victorious army then retumal to plunder
the Scottiab camp. It stood, according to Fat-
ten's description, in a field called Edmonaton
Edgea, balf a mile to the west of Musaetburgb,
and four miles from Ediobui^b; tbe apace occu-
pied by the tents being about a mile in compass.
Here, as soon as the English arrived, they set up
a universal shout of gladness and victory, the
Bhrillness of which is affirmed to have been heard
as far aa Edinburgh. As for the spoil, there
was found in the tents good provision of white
bread, ale, oaten cakes, oatmeal, mutton, butter
iu pota, and cheese; and also, in tboee of the
principal persons, good wine aod some silver
plate. Then they fell to stripping the bodies of
the multitudinous dead. Aa many hands make
light work, observes our journalist, it was won-
derful to see in how short a time all the bodies
ffere stripped stark naked throughout the whole
space over wbi^ the puj:8nit and slaughter bad
extended. He expresses great admiration of the
athletic forma of the Scottish soldiers; their tall-
ness of stature, clearness of akin, bigneaa of bone,
und due proportion in all parts, he says, were

' S« sir JuM DiilfDnr'i JibbIU. Asccrdlng to FiHsn. tha
m kUlad bj tba toU^ And

such, that, unless be had seen them, he wouLl
not have believed the whole country had con-
fined BO many weli'made men. All the day,
during the fight and the sulisequent slaughter,
the sky bad been cloudy and lowering; bat now,
when the earth lay covered with the naked dead,
a heavy rain fell for an hour, lightening the laden
atmoapfaere, and refreshing tbe face of nature.
About seven o'clock the Eugliab pitched their
camp for the night on tbe neighbouring height
of Edge-buckling-brae, otherwise called Pinken-
cleugh, beside Pinkie Slough, about midway
between their former station at Freetonpana and
the spot where the battle was fought And thus
ended the greatest defeat the Scots hod sustained
since the disastrous day of Flodden Field, almost
exactly thirty-four jeara before.

The army rested here only till the morning of
the following day, Sunday the 11th, when it re-
moved to tbe neighbourhood of Leith. The fleet
now, taking advantags of the nuiveraol terror
into which the country had been thrown, pro-
ceeded to sweep the sea of all Scottiah vessels,
and to bum and ravage whatever parts of Ihs
land it could reach. The island of Inchcolm in
the firth was taken, and Eingbom and other
towns and villages along the Fife coast were
plundered and set oa fire. Meanwhile many of
the neighbouring gentry came in to make their
submission— and, for the moment, all active re-
sistauce on the part of the Scottiab government
and people was at on end. Both tbe capital,
however, and its dependent seaport of Leith, still
kept their gates shut against the invaders. Nor
did Somerset deem it expedient to follow up his
great victory by attempting to force an enti«oce
into either of these towns. On Saturday, the
17th, it was announced to the atmy that the fol-
lowing morning the teats would again be struck,
and the word given for setting out on their march
bock to tbe Borden. That same day the town
of Leith was set on fire — tbe writer before us
hesitatingly attempts to insinuate, by accident,
or at least without any commission from Somer-
set— but the act waa too much in the spirit of
that commander's uaual devastating and savage
manner of carrying on war, to allow ua to have
any doubt aa to its having been done by hia ex-
press order. When the army set out the next
morning at seven o'clock, the sky was still red
with the flames that rose from the town, and also
from some great ships in the harbour, that are
admitted to have been designedly set on fire. As
tbe English took their d^tarture. Patten says
that the castle of Edinburgh "shot off a peal of
twenty-four pieces," but none of tbe shot reached
them. The chief part of the army directed their
march south-east across tbe country; "but part
of ne," he continues, "kept the way that the chief

»Google

12

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Om

of the cliaae waa contiuaed in, vhenby we foand
moat part of the dead corpKi Ijing very ruefuUr.
with the coloar of their skins changed greenish,
about the place thej had been smitten iu, m theu
too, above ground, iinburied."

Someraet, meanwhile, pntsued hii w&j honie-
warda without loiiing much more time. He had,
indeed, despatched Clinton with a few ships, "full
fraught with men and muDition," to asaault the
MStle of Broughtj, at the month of the T&j; and
this fortresB, Which was the kej to that river and
to the towns of Dundee and Perth, was soon
compelled to Burrender. The first pause which
he himself made was at Hume Cnstle, in the
Mene, before which he sat down on the 19th,
and made prapantions for an awault ; but after
two dajs of negotiation, lady Home deemed it
moBt prudent to jield up the place, on condition
of the gairiBOn and herself being allowed to de-
part with their lives and whatever else the; could
cany away with them. He aUo halted tor a few
dajB at Roxburgh, and built a small fort within
the incloaure of an old ruined caatle there. After
this, many of the persona in thst part of the
country came in to make their snbmiseion. It
appears, however, that Airan, with a small body
of cavalry, had hung upon the rear of the retreats
iiig army all the way from Edinburgh, although
Le did not venture to do more than watch ite
motions. At last, on Thursday, the S9th, the
English gener&l recrossed the Tweed, and in a
few days more anived in Loudon, oiler an ab-
«eDce altogether of about six weeks.

It is conjectured that intelligence of certain
doings on the part of a "brother near the throne,"
which will presently engage our attention, hurried
Somerset back to the English court ; but, inde-
pendently of any auch sudden and secret motive
for his hoaty return, the moment was as apt a
one BB he could have cboaeu iu which to make his
rs-appearance. 'rheScottiHhwar,indeed,of which
he had undertaken the conduct, instead of being
ended, was only begun ; nor had he even attempted
to follow up, or to gather the fruits of, his first
greHt BuccesB. But no subsequent achievement
was likely to out-<laz£le the victory of Pinkie; nor
could the glory of that victory be enhanced even
by the roost favourable and decisive results, for
already it Beemed not merely a battle won, but a
kingdom oonquer«d. The protector, however,
was careful to return without ahow, and Bflsunie
n demeanour of the most condescending and re-
tiring humility. He was immediately rewarded
by Edward— in other words, by himself — with a
grant of additional landod eatjitei to the value of
XAOO B-year. He forthwith also prepared "to
meet the parliament (for which the writs had
l>een sent ont before be went into Scotland), now
that he was so covered with glory, to get himself

.AMD MlLITABT.

establishtid in his authority, and to du
other things which required a session.'''

The work of carrying forward the reformation
of the church had engaged the attention of thu
government from the commencement of the reign.
Cranmer, in the words of the right reverend bi"-
torian who has just been quoted, ''being now
delivered from that too awful subjection that he
had been held under by King Henry, reeolveil
to go on more vigorously in purging out abases.'
In these views the archbishop, besides the cordial
assent of the young king, had the entire concur-
rence of the protector, as also, since the expulsion
of Wriothesley, of nearly all the members of the
council that were of any influence or considera-
tion. The only formidable opponent of the in-
novations that remained even nominally a mem-
ber of the government was Tonstal, Bishop of
Durham, and he was relegated on various pre-
texts 4o his distant diooese, and excluded from
taking any part in public affaire. Of the othtr
bishops, several went along with Cnutmer —
namely, Holgate of York, Holbeck of Lincoh-,
Goodrich of Ely, and especially the able and
learned Bidley, who, in September of this year,
was appointed to the see of Bochester On the
side of the old opinions, however, was still ar-
rayed a vast force both of numbers and also of
other elements of power. If the boy who occu-
pied the throne was an enthusioHtic Protestant,
his Biflter, the Princess Mary, generally looked
upon na the heiress presumptive, was as zealous
and determined a Catholic; Somerset and his
adherents of the new nobility had to maintain
their position against the envy, the resentment,
and the other natural antipathies of the whole
faction of the ancient houses, depressed, indeed,
for the present, but still deeply rooted and of
great natural strength in the country; et'en of
the headsof the church, both the greater number
and the most distinguished, including, besides
Tonstal, the fierce and unscrupuloua Bonner of
Ijondon, and the courageous, politic, and acconi-
pliahed Oardiner of Winchester, were opposed to
the new opinions; above all, the immense ma-
jority of the people of all classes had yet to be
roused from their habitual attachment to the
doctrines and the ritual of their forefathers. Iu
these circumstances it was prudeutly resolved,
"by Cranmer and his friends, to carry on the Re-
formation, but by slow and safe degrees, uot
hazarding too much at once."" They did not wait,
however, till the parliament met, to commenct'
what they deemed so good and necessary a work,
but determined at once to proceed iljion tliu
despotic statute of the last reign, which gave to
the royal proclamation the full force of a legiala-
They began by a repetilion ol

,v Google

.D. 1547-

EDWAED VT.

13

the lat« kind's vidtkticHi of diocMes. The kiog-
dom vaa divided into sis circuitH, to e»ch of
which wen appointed three or four visitorB, iu
most cases parti; dei^ymen, partly lajiDeii.
These viaiton were investod for the time with
the aapreme epiritual Authority in their eoTeral
disCricta, and with power to call before them, for
eiuumDation, the dergy of all ranks, fr«m the
bishop indiudve, aod even any of the laity iji
every parish, whose evidence, as to its eccleaiaa-
tieal condition, they ahoiild deem it expedient to
obtikin. But their functions were not limited to
the taking of evidence. A body of injunctions
relating to a great variety of points of religious
belief and worship was framed and put into their
bands, which they were to publish wherever
they went, with intimatioa that the refusal or
neglect to obey them wontd be punished with
the pains of escommimication, sequestration, or
deprivation, as the ordinaries, whom the jusCicee
of the peace were required to aasist, should an-
swer it to the Icing. Tiiese orders were for the
greater part tiia same that had been formerly
issued by Cromwell ; but it was an important
touovation thus to conjoin the dvil authorities
with the bishops in the ezecntion of them. At
the same time a collection of liomilies was drawn
up, which were required to be read in every
cborch on Sundays and holidays: every parish
church iu England was ordered to be provided
with a copy of a translation made for the purpose
of Eramawi' Paraphrase on the New Testament,
aa well as of the English Bible; the moat eminent
preachers of the Reformed doctrines that could be
found were dispersed over the kingdom along
with the visitors, that they might with the more
authority instruct the people ; while, by various
r^nlations, the right of all other clergymen to
(»«acb was gradually more and more contracted,
till at last it was permitted to no one, even ai-
thotlgh a bishop, who had not a license from the
jHotector or the metropolitan.

The visitors were sent out upon their circuits
about the same time that the protector set forth
on his expedition to Scotland ; and when Somer-
set returned from the north he had the satisfac-
tion of finding that they had completed theii-
mission apparently with as much success as him>
■elf. One of the injunctions was, that al) monu-
ments of idolatry should be removed out of the
walls or windows of churches; "and those," says
Burnet, " who expounded the secret providences
uf Qod with an eye to their own opinions, took
great notice of this — that on the same day in
which the visitors removed and destroyed most
of the images in LondoD, their armies were so
Bucceaaful in Scotland in Pinkie field." Both
Bonner and Gardiner, however, had stood out
against the new regiUations. Bonner, at first,

would only promise toobserve the injunctions in
so far as Uieywere not contrary to Qod's law anil
the ordinances of the church : on this be was
brought before the coondl, where, after offering
a aubmiadon "full of vain quidditiea* (as the
■ninato charactorizes it), he at last consented to
withdraw bis protestation nnconditionaUy ; but,
nevertheless, " for giving terror to otherx," it was
deemed proper that he should be sent for a tjme
to the Fleet Oardiner'a case was different ; IJte
injnnctiona and homilies had never actually been
offered for his acceptance, but he had objected to
Uiem in a letter to one of the visitors before the
visitation of his diocese had commenced. Bur-
net, who transcribes this letter at length, being
"resolved," as he says, "to suppress nothing of
couaeqnence, on what side soever it may be," can-
not help speaking of it in a tone of honest com-
mendation, which is not the leas forcible for the
indications of partizanship with which hia admis-
sion is accompanied. "It has more,' he otiaarves,
"of n ChrialLiii and of a bishop iu it than any-
thing I ever saw of hia. He expresses, in hand-
some terms, a great contempt of the world, and
a resolution tosufferanything ratherthan depart
from his ooBScience ; besides that, as be said, the
things being against law, he would not deliver
up the liberties of hiBcountry,but would petition
agtunst them." He also wrote argumentative
tetters against some things iu the injUDctiona and
homilies both to the protector and to Cranmer.
This was all that he had done when he was
summoned before the council, and required to
promise that he would obey the royal injanctions.
He replied that he was not bound, then, to say
whether he would or would not, but sboulil be
prepared to make his answer to the visitors when
they came to his diocese. This defence, however,
availed him nothing: he also, as well as Bonner,
was consigned tocloee imprisonment in the Fleet.
Id this way the two moat formidable enemies of
the course which the protector and Oanmer had
entered upon, and were bent upon pursuing,
were excluded from the parliament that was about
to open.

The two houses met on the 4th of Novembei-.
The day before, "the protector," says Burnet,
"gave too publican instance how much his proB-
perous success had lifted him up; for by a patent
under the great seal he was warranted to sit iu
parliament on the right hand of the throne, and
was to have all the honoura and privileges that
at any time any of the undea of the kings tf
England, whether by the father's or moUier'n
ude, had enjoyed ; with a not obtlante to the
statute of precedence." The new parliament,
however, b^an its proceedings with some valu-
able constitutional reforms, or rather restorations
of the old constitution. Tbe first bill that waa

,v Google

14

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil

D MlUIAlT.

} the Act 1

broDght in (eventually formed it
Edw. VI. c. IS) repealed the late
which g»ve to the royal proclanuttion the force
of law/erased all the additions to the law of trea^
aou that bad been made aioce the Sfith of Edw.
III., and also Bwept away at once both the old
lawe against the Lollards and ail the new felouiee
created during the last reign, including the sta^
tut« of the Six Articles, and every other act con-
cerning doctrine and matter of religion. Another
act (the 1 Edw. VI. c 1) made an important in-
novation in the ritual of religioiu worship, by
ordering that in the sacrament of the Lord's
Sapper the cup should be delivered to the laity
as well Hs to the clergy. A third (the I 3Mw.
VI. c. 2) put an en 1 to the old form (afterwsids,
however, restored in the reign of Elizabeth, and
still Bubsisting) of the election of bishops by txmffi
iPtlire, on the ground that "the said elections be
in very deed no elections, but only have colours,
shadows, or pretences of elections, serving never-
theless to no purpose, and seeming also derogatory
and prejudicial to the king's prerogative royal;"
and appointed that all collations to bishoprics
shonld in future be made by direct nomination
of the crown. Last in order of these measnres
of ecclesiBStical reform, was brought in one in
which many of the members of the government
had a personal and pecuniary interest — the bill
for making over to the crown all the chantries,
colleges, and free chapels throughont the king-
dom that yet remained usoonfiecsted. Thi« bill,
which was fii'st brought forward in the House of
Lords, was strongly opposed there, not only by
the bishops attached to the old religion, but by
Cranmer himself. It was vigorously pushed,
however, by Henry'a executors, who, ss Burnet
intimates, "saw they could not pay his debts,
nor satisfy themselves in their own pretensions,
formerly mentioned, out of the king's revenue,
and BO intended to have these to be divided
among them;" and they had the eager assistance
of eveiy other noble lord who cherished any ex-
pectation of sharing in the plunder. The mino-
rity agaonst the bill on the first division consisted,
in fact, only of Cranmer, and sir other bishops;
and on the third reading the archbishop and one
of theblsbops were absent, while another of them
abandoned his bootless and profitless opposition,
and went over to the court. In short, "those
that were to g«n by it were so many that the act
passed." It also met with much resistance in the
commons from some of the burgh members, who
particniariy objected to the clause giving the
lands held by guilds to the king ; but they were
pacified by an assurance that the lands in ques-
tion should be afterwards restored; and the act
was then quietly allowed to become law. The
objects of the confiscation, an professed in the

preamble of the act, were, first, the diacounge-
nient of superstition ; secondly, the converting of
the funds obtained by the suppression of the
chantries "to good and godly uses, as in erecting
of grammar schools for the education of youth in
virtue and godliness, the further augmenting of
the universities, and better provision for the poor
and needy;"' but whatever may have been guned
in the former of tbeee ways, in respect to the lat-
ter the measnre proved a mere delusion. "For
though the public good waa pretended thereby,
and intended, too, i hope," says a writ«r well dis-
posed to take the most hvourable view of all
theae proceedings, "yet private men in truth had
most of the benefit ; and the king and common-
wealth, the state of learning, and the condition
of the poor, left as they were before or worse.'"
Another remarkable act, designated by tbe
king in his journal "an extreme law," was also
passed for the suppression of the still extending
nuisance of mendicity, or, as it was entitled, "for
the punishment of- vagabonds, and the relief of
poor and impotent persons.'" All the provinon
that was made for the latter objeet was merely
by a clause directing that impotent, maimed, and
aged persons, who could not be taken as vaga-
bonds, should have bouses provided for tbeni,
and be otherwise relieved in the places where
they were bom or had chiefly resided for the last
three years, iy the wiUing and ekaritablt ditpoti'
tioni of the parithionert; but in the part of it
directed against mendidty, the statute hu all
the ferocity of a law passed in desperation, and
fearfully attests, by the barbarous severity of its
enactments, the height to which the evil had ar-
rived. It was ordered that any person found
living "idly or loiteringly' for the space of three
days, should, on being brought before a justice,
be marked as a vagabond with a hot irMi on the
breast, and adjudged to be the slave for two yeare
of the person informing Hgoiust him, who, it wafi
added, "shall take tbe same stave, and give him
bread, water, or small drink, and refuse meat,
and cause him to work, by beating, chaining, or
otherwise, in such work and labour as he shsll
put him to, be it never so vile.* If in the course
of this term the slave absented himself for tour-
teen days, he was to be marked with a hot iron
on the forehead or the ball of the cheek, and ad-
judged to be a slave to hia said master for ever:
if he ran away a second time, he was to suffer
death as a felon. MastetB were empowered "to
sell, bequeath, let out for hire, or give the service
of their slaves to any person whomsoever, upon
such conditions, and for such term of yews, m
the said persons be adjudged to them for slaves,
after tbe like sort and manner as they may doo'

,v Google

A.D. 1647—1549.]

EDWAED VI.

15

lui; other their mOTe&ble goodfl or chatt«U-
maoter w«a likewise authorized to put a nag of
iton ftboat the neck, ana, or leg of his slace/'for
a more knowledge and anrety of the keeping of
him." By anollier daiue, it was ordered, that,
altboogh there ahould be no man to demand the
Hrrices of Bach idle peraone, the jiuticea of the
peace ahoald rtiU inquire after them, and, after
bnmding tlu m, convej' them to the places of their
birth, there to be uouriihed end kept in chaina
or otherwise, either at the common works in
amending highways, or in serritude to private
persons. Finally, all persona that choee were
anthorixad to aeize the children of b^gars, and
to retain them aa apprentices — the boys till they
were twenty-four, tjie girls till they were twenty
years of age; and if they ran away before the end
of their term, the master was permitted, upon
recovering them, to pnniah them in chains or
otherwise, and to osa them as eUvea till the time
of tbeir^prenticeshipahouldhaTeeipired. This
law can be chanct«rized as nothing else thou the
formal re.«stabliBhment of alavery in England ;
but it wonld prove no mere matter of form:
from the extent to which, owing to a concurrence
of cansee, b^gary and vagrancy had now spread,
its despotic and oppreaaive character would be
actually and severely felt by no inconsiderable
portion of the people. Indeed, it helped, along
■with other elements of popular exasperation, to
produce the result tliat ensued not long after this
in many parta of the kingdom, where mendicancy
was converted into open and general rebellion.

Parliament rose on the 24th of December, its
last measure having been an act confirming the
king's general pardon of state ofienders, from
which, however, was excluded, along with a few
others, the Duke of Norfolk, who still remained
a prisoner in the Tower. Crwuner, neverthelees,
continued to urge on his ecclesiastical alterations
with unrelazing activity. On the repreaentatioa
of the archbishop, that such things were oontrary
to the gravity and simplicity of the Chiistian re-
ligioD, an order was issued by the cotmcil, prohi-
biting the carrying of candles on Caodiemaa Day,
of ashes on Ash Wednesday, or of palms on Palm
Sunday. This innovatioa was far from being
relished by the bulk of the nation; for "the coun-
try people," as Burnet observes, "generally loved
all these shows, processions, and assemblies, aa
things of diversion, and judged it adull business
only to come to churcb for Divine worship and
the bearing of seniu>ns; therefore they were much
delighted with the guety and cheerfulness of
those rites." Another proclamation soon fol-
lowed, denouncing imprisonmeDt against whoso-
ever should take upon him to preach, except in
hill own house, without a license from the king,
the visitora, the Archbishop of Canterbury,

the bishop of the diocese in which he so preached;
"to the intent,* as it was expressed, "that rash
and seditious preachers should not abuse his
highness' people." Remarks were made, Burnet
tella us, upon the conduct of the council in thus
going on creating new offences with arbitrary
punishments, although the act was now repealed
that Iiad formerly given them such extraordin-
ary powers. It was argued, in their vindication,
that they might still issue such proclamations iu
the Icing's name, in virtue of the royal supre-
macy in matters ecclesiastical; "yet this," adds
the historian, "was much questioned, though
universally submitted to." The next order that
appeared, directed the removal of all imagea
from all churches and chapels. At the same
time it was commanded that all rich shrines,
with all the plate belonging to them, should be
seized for the use of the king: the council, it
seems, were not ashamed to add, lAal the dotha
Aat eoMTtd th&n tKotdd be eoiwerted to tAt *ue of
fA« poor.' Soon after this was issued a royal
proclamation, setting forth a new office for the
public odnxinistration of the Lord's Supper, which
bad been drawn up by a committee of bishops
and divines: it directed that the sacrament
should be given to the people in both kinds ; that
tha« should be no elevation of the host; and that
the whole service should be in the F.pgliB}! lan-
guage. These Isolations were soon after fol-
lowed by the publication of a short English cate-
chism by Cronmer, " for the profit and instfucdou
of children and young people." Finally, the com-
mittee of bishops and divines proceeded to tbu
composition of an entire new Liturgy, or book of
the pnbtia services of religion, in English; but the
publication of this important work was deferred
till it should have received the sanction of par-

Meonwhile, some further trouble had been
given by the dexterous opposition, or at least
passive resistance, of Oardiner to these proceed-
ings of Cranmer and the government The act
of general pardon had restored him to liberty at
the end of the sesaion; and, accordingly, on the
8th of January, 1C48, he was brought before the
council and discharged, with a grave admoaitiou
to carry himself henceforth revereaUy and obe-
diently. He retlredto his diocese, but there still
appeared in his whole behaviour what Burnet
colls "great malignity to Cnuuner and to all mo-
tions for reformation." "Yet," it is added, "he
gave such outward compliance that it was not
easy to find any advantage against him, espe-
cially now since the council's great power was so
mu(^ abridged." After a few mouths, however,
as again summoned before the council, ou

ang, I
', er [ ii

,v Google

16

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CrvU. AMD MlLITAKT.

D of some a-'m compIaiatB ; and this time
the t&ui ended by hu being sent to the Toner.
The council here seem to have proceeded with as
little regularitiras legal right; for it appears that
the order for the biahop'a imprisoiunent was not
signed when it was mads, bnt only aome jean
after; as entered on the council-book, it has at-
tiwhed to it the names of Somerset, Cranmer, St.
John, Susaell, and Cheyney ; but Lord Ruasell
liad, in the first instance, subscribed himself
"Bedford," till, recollecting that he bad not that
title at the time of malting the order, he drew
his pen through the word, and sabstitiited "J.
Russell!'' Gardiner, however, was thus once
more placed where he could pre no active an-
uf^Qce ; and he remained in close confinement
throughout the reign, steftdily refosing all pro-
posals of subinissioD or compromise, till at last
he was deprived of his bishopric

All this time the war in Scotland had not
ceased to give both anxiety and occupation to the
government, though the military operations that
took place were not attended with any rery im-
portant results. In an assembly of the Scottish
nobility held at Stirling soon after the battle of
Pinkie, a resolution bad been adopted on the
suggestion of the queen-dowager to apply (or the
aasistance of France, and with that abject to offer
th«r infant queen in mairiage to the dauphin,
and even to propose to send her immediately to
be educated at the French court. This was, in
other words, an offer to the French king of the
Scottish crown. It was at once accepted by
Henry, nor did he lose a moment in making pre-
jiaratboB for the vigoroiu defence of a kingdom
which he might now consider as his own. On
learning what had been done, Somerset published
an earnest address in English and Latin, to the
jieople of Scotland, pointing out to them all the
advantages they were throwing away by the re-
jection of the Oatrimonial alliance with England,
aa well as the loss of their independence and the
other evils that were sure to follow from the
French marriage, and calling npon them to draw
back from the minons oonrse on which their go-
vernment was leading them. This appeal was
followed np by the arrival, toward* the eud of
April, of a powerful English army under the
conduct of the Lord Gray of Wilton, which ad-
vanced straightway upon the nsighbourhood of
the capital. The town of Haddington was taken
and fortified, a garrison of two thousand men
being left to hold it; some isolated CBstiea were
battered down, or oompelled to surrender; Dal-
keith and Musselburgh were burned ; but all these
temin bad no effect in damping the spirit of the
Scots — booyed up aa they were by tlie highest
Lopes of the revenge they were soon to be en-

abled to take by means of the ampl« aid promised
tham by the French king. About the middle of
June, the squadron conveying the expected for-
eign auxiliaries arrived at Leitii. The force con-
sisted of ahoat six thousand veterans *— partly
French, partly German — under the cMnmand of
D'Esse D'Espanviliers, a general of great gallan-
try and experience. No time waa loat in pro-
ceeding to active operations. It was resolved
that the first enterprise of thu allied forces should
t>e the recovery of Haddington ; and accordingly
an army composed of the whole of D'Esse's men,
and of about eight thousand Scots, under the
command of Arran, marched upon that town.
It was in the camp before Haddington that the
parliament or convention of estates was assembled
which ratified, amid the hurry and tumult of
arms, and against not a little opposition, the
treaty with the French king. The fleet which
bad brought over the Frenish soldiers still le-
mained in the Firth of Forth ; it now pat to sea,
and proceeded at first in the direction of the
French coast, bnt as soon aa it was fairly out of
sight of land it changed its course, and having
sailed round by the north of Scotland, entered
the Clyde, and touched at Dumbarton, where it
received on board the young queen with her at-
tendants.* Mary reached the harbour of Brest
in safety on the 13th of August, and was imme-
diately conducted to St. Germain-en -Idiye, where
she was contracted in the usual form to the
Dauphin of France, then a child of five years of
age, she herself being only a few months older.
Meanwhile, Haddington remained unreduced,
though still invested. At first the place had been
sharply cannonaded, and various breaches bad
been made in the walla; but D'Esse still did not
think it prudent to venture upon an assaal^ and
resolved to trnat to the hope of starving the gai^
riaou into a surrender. The strength and spirit
of the latter, however, were soon after recruited
by the arrival of a body of two hundred of their
conntrymun, who "found means one night to
paaa through all the watches on that aide where
the Scots lay, and entering the town, and bring-
ing with them great plenty of powder and other
necesaaries, greatly relieved them within, and *o
encouraged them that they seemed to make small
account of their enemy's forces." A similar at
tempt that was afterwards made by a troop of
1300 horse from Berwick, nnder the oommand
of Sir Thomas Palmer, had a different i"0»-
The English horse were met by the F^ncb and
Scots under D'Esse and Lord Hume, and were
completely environed and put to the rout To*

■ CorkKulj tnuuliUd bj &i JtB

»Google

A.O. 1547— 1S4».]

ra>WAKD TI.

17

Scottish hietoriana usert tikkt the slain um) the
priioiien on the part of the English in thia
kffiur exceeded 1000 men. ImmediAtelynpon re-
cdptof the intelligence «t theEngliah coart, orders
vere given for the Advxnce acroaa the Borders
of an army of 82,000 mrai, which had been rtused
and pat onder the command of l<Vancis Talbot,
Earl of Shrewsbury, as the lieutenant of the Dnke
of Somerset. Lord Cliuton, at the same time, pnt
to aea with a formidable fleet On the approach
-of Shrewsburj, the besieging army retired from
Haddington, and the eari entered that town, the
gallant defenders of which were now reduced to
the ntmost extremt^.' The earl left abundant
■upi^ea, n<A only of "victuals, mnnitioa, and all
other tlunga convenient," but likewbe of beal^j
and atrong men to assist in mMntaining the de-
fence. He then set forth to seek the Scots and
n«neh,wb(Hn he found posted some ten or twelve
milea oS, at Maaselburgh. Thej would not, how-
ever, leave their intrenchmenta, and the Engliah
did not venture to attack them. In fact, Uie
earl and his great uwf forthwith tamed ronnd,
and began their march back to England. The
only other exploit they performed was to set
fire to Dunbar, as they passed by that town on
their retreat. Nor were the achievements of
Lord Clinton and the fleet mote eondderable.
iBalfoor informa na that Clinton landed some
0000 men on the coaat of BVe, to apoil the
eoantry ; " but before they did much harm,
they were rencountered by the I^ird of Wemyas
and the barons of Tife, all well honed, who rode
them fiat down with dieir horaea, and having
killed above 700 of them, farc«d the remnant to
save themselves by wading in t^ sea to the
oec^, before they could gain their flat-bottomed
boats, having parched (acquired) no better booty
than thoir backful of sbokea and wet skins."
Th(7 afterwards made a descent during the night
at If ontroae, where in like manner they were
driven off by the peaaantiy, headed by &tkine
of Bon ; of 800 who had landed, scarcely one
in three getting back aaf e to the ships. " So,"
it is added, "the admiral returned, having got
nothing but loss and disgrace by the expedition."
.After the Earl of Sbrewabory had returned
home, Lord Gray, who had been left as lieutenant
of the north, made an inroad into Beotland, and,
withont encountering any oppontion, burned and
wasted Teviotdale and liddesdale for the space
of BtwDt twenty milea. On the other hand, not
long after this, on Tneodaf the 9th of October,
an attempt was made by D'Bese to sarprise the
town of Haddington,up tothe verygateof which
he had got with hia men, at an early honr in the
moming,b«fore bis presence was suspected. £ut
when the assailants were on the point of complet-

■ /folJUU.

Vol. II,

ing thur enterprise, a cannon that chanced to b«
pointed upon the gate was fired off against his
countrymen by a EVench deeertor who served
within the town, which made auch alanghter
among tiiem as to drive them back in disorder;
and although D'Ease thrice gallantly led back
his men to Uie encounter, they were finally foiled
and beaten off with great loss. On this, the
French commander retired to Leith, and fortified
himself in that town.

The English parliament re-assembled at 'West-
minster on the 24th of November, having been
prorogued to that day from tiie 10th of October,
in consequence of the plague then being in Lon-
don. The first question of importance that waa
brotight forward was that of Uie marriage of the
clergy. A proposition in favour of this innova-
tion having been submitted to the lower house
of convocation during the last session of parlia-
ment, had been carried in that assembly by a
majority of nearly two to one; and a bill to carry
it into effect had been actually introduced in the
House of Commons, thon^ it was not proceeded
with. A dmilar bill waa now again brought
forward, and, although it met with conaidin^ble
oppontion, waa finally passed and sent up to the
lords on the 13th of December. lu the upper
boose it waa allowed to lie unnoticed till the QtL
c£ February, I&49; but, being then taken up, was,
after it had undergone aome alterations, to which
the commons eventually assented, read a third
time on the 19th, and passed, by a majority of
thirty-nine to twelve. This was followed by an
act establishing the use of the reformed Liturgy
lately drawn up. Against both of these bills
many of the biahopa, and a few also of the lay
lords, entered protest*. The only other enact-
ment of this session on the subject of religion
that reqQires to be here noticed, is one that was
passed "touching abstinence from flesh in Lsnt
and other usual times.' The preamble of this
statute declares, that "one day or one kind of
meat of itself is not more holy, more pure, or
more clean than anotheri' but, nevertheless, con-
demns those who, "turning their knowledge to
satisfy their aenauality,* had, "of late time more
than in times past, luvken and contemned auch
abstinence which hath been used in thia realm
npon the Fridays and Saturdays, the embering
days, and other days commonly called vigils, and
in the time commonly called Lent, and other ao-
customed times." The r^ulations with regard to
the observance of fish-daj's which are laid down,
and which need not be detailed, are then ushered
in b; a statement of the considerations that had
been kept in view in framing them, which "glances
from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,"
with a most edifying impartiality and compro-
hensirenesa of regard.

ia»

,v Google

18

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

tC.v

D MlUTART.

But (w afftkir of auiotlier kind wu also brought
bttfore the parliament in the ooiuve of this aeaaiog,
the history of which, from its conuuencement
neiu-l; two years before, now falla to be related.
The Earl of Hertford and hia younger brother
Sir Thomas Seymour do not appear to have lived
OD other than friendly terms down to the close
of the late reign, during which the terrific temper
of Heury made the fiercest and haogbtiest ^tirits
qnul, and suppress the breath of their mutual
animosities and rivalriea. But as soon as the
furious old despot was dead, and the throne
came to be filled by the child, whose near rela-
tiooship t« the two brothers oombined with his
years and his diapositiou to throw him entirely
iuto their hands, and to make him the puppet of
whichsoever of the two should succeed in getting
before the other in their struggle for the prize,
the natural opposition of their interesta, and of
the circumBtanoes in which they were placed,
dashed them against each other like two meeting
tides. Both were amhitious, by natura as well
•s by the temptations of their position ; and he
not the least so who, by the arnuagamenta made
on the accession of the new king, found himself
without any share iu the govertuuent, while the
other had contrived to conceiitrate iu liimaelf
nearly all the powers of the state. The protector
tried to purchase the acquiescence of his brother,
both byhonounand more substantial beDcfita:

Sir Thomas, as we have seen, was raised to the
peerage, with the title of Baron Seymour of
Sudley; he was also made high-admiral, the
patent of that place being resigned to him by the
new Earl of Warwick, who was, in turn, compen-
sated with that of lord great-cbamberlaiD, which

Somerset bimaelf had held, hut which he now
exchaoged for those of lord high-b«a8urer and
earl-marshal, forfeited by the attainder of Htn
Duke of Norfolk ; and he was furthermore, by a
royal grant, in August, 1548, put in possenion
of the lordship of Sudlej, in Oloucesterahire,
and of other lands and tenemente in no fewer
than eighteen counties.' But a temper and views
such as his were not to be thus satisfied. Though
resembling each other in ambition and rapacity,
in moat of the other points that marked their
characters the two brothers were very unlike.
The protector, slenderly endowed either with
capacity or with moral courage, and probably
conscious of these deficiencies, was in Uie habit
of truating in all things more to his iusb^ments
than to himself, and of seeking a support for his
greatuesa in any prop he could find to lean upon.
This timidity and want of self-dependence, to-
gether with his vanity, made him on all occasions
an tuiiioua affecter of popular applause, although
hie whole courae demonstrates him to have been
in reality one of the most self-r^;arding men that
ever lived, and one of the most unscrupulous in
the pursuit of hia own aggrandizement. Hia
anxiety, however, to stand well in the public ea-
timation, and perhaps a natural coldness of tem-
perament, preserved him from some of those
private irregularities which, more thaq anything
else, destroy reputation, though the mischief they
occasion bears no proportion in extent to that
inflicted by some other vices of character which
are not so immediately oSlsnaive; snd there was
little or nothing to be objected to in his life and
conversation under any of the heads of that
household morality which is very generally re-
garded as the whole code of morals. He was not
only cautiously decent in hia private demeanour
within this circle of duties, but he was a con-
spicuous professor of religion and piety; and it
is probable that he did take a considerable in-
terest in those high questions by which all miudH
were more or leas agitated, and certain strong
views in regard to what constituted the peculiar
badge and the great cementing element and iife-
spirit of his party. But aithotigh he waa ex-
tremely cautious of doiug anything likely to place
him in an unfavourable light with the popular
sentiment, it would be a mistake to imagine that
he did not give loose to his natural temper, where
there waa no such risk, in the most violent fa-
shion. While he was all subservience to the
huzzaing populace, and was at home completely
under the government of his wife— a prood,
coarse, cunning woman— at the council-table an<l
elsewhere, to all who were dependent upon him,
not excepting the men to whom in great part he
owed hia elevation, he soon became the most im-

in Slrme, J

,v Google

I. 1547—1549.]

EDWARD VI.

19

perions uid inaoleDt of the Bptnled cbildrea of
fbrttme. The lord-adminl was Mrtainty not a.
bett«r niAti thsn the protector; but the vien d
hit character weiw for the moat part of a diferent
kind. Thej were not vices that attempted to as-
mune the ^ise of virtues — whether that be a
commendation or the rererae; thej did not ao far
do homagB to moralitj tut to skulk out of iight:
the admiral aeemH to have openlj led a diMolute
life, and was piobablr verj regardlees of imputa-
tiona on the aeors of freedom or laiitj of man-
nero, at which hia brother would have been ready
to sink into the earth with shame and fear. It
ia doubtful to whioh of the two reli^ns he be-
longed, but pretty certain that he neither eared,
uor profeMod to eare, much for either. In point
of abilities he wm reckoned far the protector's
superior. The popular breath, which the elder
brother w aoliritonsly courted, the younger, as
bold and reckleaB in this as in all things else,
held in avowed contempt. Of the credit of high
principle, or prind|Je of any kind, vei; little can
be awarded to either ; each equally — the one in
hie adulation of the multitude, the otber by hia
haughty aristocratic profmsions and bearing —
pursued, in the way that his peculiar tastes and
temper dictated, the path of the same selfish and
r^iacioue ambition. What small sjnonnt of
hcmeaty may have belonged to either was, in So-
menet, merely a natural attachment which he
probably bad to those opinions in religion which
were the distinction of his party, imd upon the
profession of which he had taken his stand ; in
Seymour, the eflrontwy of a profligate man, of
too violent passions, and too prond a spirit, even
to preteiid to virtues which he did not poopono.

Bnmei's relation of the story of the lord-ad-
miral, upon which the accounts of later writers
an principally founded, is given by him as if the
particulan were either notoriou, or had been ob-
tained from some source that left no doubt as to
their authenticity; but it will be found, upon ez-
unination, that the whole detail is little more
than B traiutcript of the charges made against
Seymour by his brother and the couneil^that
IB, of the mere assertions of his enemies, upon
which, as we shall find, although he was con-
demned and put to death, he was never tirought to
trial, and of the truth of many things in which we
have leally no evidence whatever. The statement,
therefore, cannot be received with perfect confi-
dence, although it may probably, in the main,
be founded in truth. It is, however, in paria,
confirmed by doctunenta that have been brought
to li^t sinoe Burnet wrote, especially hj theae
contained in the collection known by the name
of the Burghley Paper*,'

' k ttOtOinD of SiUi taptn nlatbii to kSUn li lbs nlcm
■* Kkif But Tni., Edirud TI., Qohb Hu;, ud Qi»

One of the lines of pursuit in which Seymonr*s
talents, address, and personal advantagea, enabled
him gteatiy to distinguish himself, was that of
gallantry: his success with women was so bril-
liant, that he had the popuhu- reputation of catch-
ing hearts by art-magic. He now resolved that
riches and power as well as pleasare siionld wait
upon his victories in this career; and it is allc^^
that, in the first instance, he aspired so high as
to have cherished the hope of gaining the hand
either of the Princess Mary or of lier sister Eli-
zabeth, the two persons nest in the order of
Bucoeesion to the throne. His views seem also
to have been at one ^me directed to the I^dy
Jane Orey, in the presentiment that hers might
pOBMbly, after all, be the head upon which the
crown would light He found, however, that
there were difficulties in the way of each of thne
projects, and for the present he contented himself
with the hand of Catherine Parr, the queen-
dowager — "whom you manied," say the council
iu their charge, "so soon after the late king's
death, that, if she had conceived straight after, it
should have been a great doubt whether the child
bom should have been accounted the late king's
or yours; whereupon a marvellotia danger and
peril might and was like to have ensued to the
king's majesty's succeaaion and quiet of the
realm." In fact, Catherine appears to have
thrown herself into his arms.

Seymour had a twofold object in this marri^e
— first, the acquisition of the wealth Ostherine
had accumulated while she was queen, and the
dower to which rile was now entitled ; ssoondly,
that he mi^t gain the easier access to Qie king,
and be the better able to win him over to his pui^
poees through the influence of Catherine, to whom
Edward had always been accustomed to look up
with respect and afi'eetion. In the first of these
expectations he was in part disappointed, by his
wife being compelled to sttrrsnder certain jewels
of great value, which Henry bad given to her, but
which the protector and the council insisted that
she had no right to retain, after she had ceased
to be queen-consort. In a lettea* to Seymour
upon the subject of this and other points in which
she thought she was ili-used, she seems to impute
the treatment she bad received to SomersM's
proud and violent wife. Whether it was the
loss of her jewels, however, or whether the same
consequence would have followed without that
provDc&tion, poor Catheriue soon became little
an object <rf envy to any of her sei; the hasbaud,
to whom she had given herself with such preci-

U HMSdd Hoiw. In Uia llbniy of Uw K^ ot
teUabUT, by th* Sar. BubhI B^im, i-H., fOL Lwdoo, ITM.

■niuamtoiniMofiiuA " " " —

lUHd )7 Um Rn. WilUua MutiUd, fl

,v Google

20

HISTOET OF ENGLAND.

iVlVtL AND SlUTART.

pitate fondueaa, be^pui opeuty to ahow bow tired
be was beoome of her, and to Renine bia old gsl-
UntriM) before jataj montba hnd elapsed. In
the meanwhile be had taken advantage of hia
Opporttmitiet to ctunmence prwAULng apoa the
jroung Diiod of bis royal nephsir. The object of
ambition which, in the firat instance Kt itaeL, he
had prc^toaed to bimMlf, aeema to have been, to
wrest from bia brother the one of bis two great
olfioea which gave him the ciutodj' of the royal
person, thongh it ia probable enoagh that, if be
had aocceeded in that, he would not have been
long in making an attempt to get into his bands
the government of the kingdom also. It ia charged
againat him by the conncil that, after he had
agreed and given his consent in writing to the
appointment of his brother as "governor of the
Idng'a majesty's penon, and protector (tf all his
realms and dominions, and subjecte;' be had
" attempted and gone about by indirect means to
undo tliis order," and to get the gorerament of the
king into bis own bands ; — that, " by corrupting
with gifts and fair promises, divera of the privy
chamber,* he had gone about to allure the king
to condescend and agree to the same, his "most
heinous and perilone parpoMS;" — that he had
"for that intent," with his own hand, written a
letter in the king's name, which be had given to
his majesty to copy and sign, and which he in-
tended to have delivered peraoually to the Honae
of Oommona; "and there,* it is added, "with
your fanton and adherents before prepared, to
have made a broil, or tumnlt, or uproar, to the
great danger of the king's majesty's person, and
subversion of the atote of thia realm ;" — that he
had spoken to " (Uvers of the conncil, and Uboured
with diven of the nobility of the realm, to stick
and adhere' to him for the attainment of his
purposes ;— that be bad said openly, that [if he
were crossed in hia deaigua] he would make
that the blackest parliament that ever was in
England! — that "the king's majesty being of
thoM tender years, and as yet, by age unable to
direct bia own things,* the admiral had gone
about to instil into his grace's head, and to per-
suade him to take upon himself the government
and managing of hia own afiairs ; — that he had
folly intended to have taken bia majesty's per<
•on into his own hands and custody ; — that he
had corrupted with money certain of the privy
chamber to persuade the king to "have a credit
towards ' him, " and so,' the article proceeds,
" to insinuate you to his grace, that when he
btcked anything, he should have it of you, and
none other body, to the intent he should mislike
his ordering, and that you might the better,
when you saw time, use his kin^a highness for
an initrument to this purpose." In a sort of
answer which was wrung from hiui to part of

the charges of the council, Seymour admitted
that about Eaater, 1M7, he bad said to (Mie of
the royal attendants, "that if he nug^ht have the
king in his custody as Mr. Page had, he wonid
be glad ; and that he thought a man might bring
him (the king) through the gallery to hia (Sey-
monr's) chamber, and so to his honae ; bat this,
he said, he spoke merrily, meaning no hurt.' He
owned also that, having some tima att4ir heard
that, when there was formerly a lord-protector
in England, the government of the kin^ person
was pot into other hands, "he had thought to
have made anit to the parliament houae for that
pnrpoae, and he had the names of all the lords,
and totted them whom be thought he might have
to his purpose, to labour them ; bat afterwards
communing with Hr. Comptroller at £ly Place,
being put in remembrance by him of his aaent-
iog and agreeing with hia own hand that the
lord-protector sbonld be governor to the king's
peraon, he was aahamed of hia doinga, and left
off that suit and labour," These, it ia to be re-
membered, are not bis own words under his own
hand, but merely those put into his Dioath by the
persons sent to examine him, in their report to
the oonncil of what he said. He farther acknow-
ledged that be had drawn np the letter, or "bill,"
as he calls it, to be laid before the Hooae of Com-
mons, and had proffered it either to the king or
Cheke, he forgot which. This had been done,
after having "oaosed the king to be moved by
Mr. Fowler, whether he could be contented that
he should have the govertumce of him as Mr.
Stanhope had." What answer he bad got either
to this soggeation, or to hia proposal that the
king should sign the letter, he profesaed not to
remember. To the charge of giving money to the
king, and to those about him, he said that at
Christmas, 1S47, he hod given to Mr. Cheke £M,
"whereof to himself £20, the other for the king,
to bestow where it pleaaeth his grace amonpt his
aervaata." He had also given some money — he
did not remember how mnoh — to the groMus of
the chamber. To Fowler, he admitted that he
had ^ven money for the king ainoe the bc^inniug
of the parliament then {February, 1549) sitting,
to the amount of £if). "And divers times, be
saith, the king hath sent to him for money, and
he hath sent it. And what time Mr. lAtimer
hath preached before the king, tlie king sent to
him to know what he shonld gira Mr. lAtimer:
and he sent to him by Fowler ilO, with this
word, that £90 was a good reward for Mr. LatJ-
mer, and the other he might bestow amongst hi*
servants." These confessions made it apparent
enough that he had sought to gun an ascendency
over Uie king by suppljdug him with pocket-
money, of which it appears that hia majeaty was
kept very bare by my lord-protect<»'. But the

,v Google

EUWAOD TI.

21

most carious evidenee ajMrn tliia point, na well aa
npoD ■ODM of the otber ch«i;ges brongtit agaiiwt
Seyiuoar, is supplied by the Barghiag Paptr*.
Here we hare, in the fint place, the teetimoaj of
the king liiinself, given !□ Bevend itatements
diawn up and anbicribed by himself. Edward,
aa both men and children wUl do when in similar
drcuTnatancea, may be aappoaed to soften what
was blameable in his own part of the bnnneflB aa
much aa poaaible, even if in ao doing be ihonld
be led to bear a little bard up(m his nnforbmate
uncle; but the tme Btate of tiie caw may be earilj
pthered from hia aelf-excalpatory detidL After
an acoooDt of hie refnaing to write some letter at
Sej'motu's request, hia majesty proceeds : "At
another time, within this two year at leaat, he
nid, ye moit take upon yon youiaelf to rale, for
ye ahall be able enough, ae well as other kings;
and then ye may give your men somewhat, for
your nuele is old, and I trust will not live long.
I anawered, it were better that he shonld die;
llien he said, ye are bnt even a very be^arly
king now; yo have not to play, or to give to your
aervaata. I said, l£r. Stanhope bad for me.
Then he said he would give Fowler money for
me; and BO he did, as Fowler told me. And he
gave Cbeke money, as I bode him ; and also to
a bookbinder, as Balmain can tell; and to divers
othma at that time, I remember not to whom.'
In another paper, Edward speaks of Seymour aa
trying to prejndice him ag^nst the protector, by
representing the expedition to Scotland, In whi<^
he was then engaged, as a very foolish and waate-
ful bnsine^ "At the retnm of my lord, my
nnde,' he goes on, " the lord-admiral said I wm
too haahfnl in mine own matters; and asked me
why I did not speak to bear rales, as other kings
do. I said I needed not, for I was well enough.
When he went into his country he desired me,
that if anyUiing were said against him, I should
not believe it till he came himself.' That Ed-
ward, however, was not a mere passive recipient
m these money dealings with his ancle, appears
from another paper in this collection, being a
letter written I7 the kin^s command, in June,
1547, to the lord-admiral, by Fowler. After con-
veying to Seymonr some warm ezpressiona of re-
gard from his nephew, who had desired him to
•ay, "that his mind and love, notwithstanding
jour absenoe, is toward your lordship ss much as
le any man within England "^the writer pro-
ceeds; "Also his grace willed me to writo to
yoor lordship, desiring you, as jonr lordship has
willed him to do, if he lack any money to send
lo your lordship. Bis grace desires you, if you
Mmveniently may, to let him have some money.
1 saked his grace what sum I should write to
V>^T lordship for; his grace would name no sum,
but IS it plMssd your lordship to send him, for

he detemiliies to give it away, but to whom lie
will not t«ll me as yet" " Tbeking^ majesty,"
it is added, in a style of aome importunity, "de-
sires your lordship to send him this money as
shortly as you cau; and because your lordship
may credit me the bettor, his grace baa written
in the beginning of my letter himself.* The
paper accordingly has the following words written
by Edward in his own hand, and with hia name
subscribed :— "I commend me to you, my lord,
and pray you to credit this writer.' To this we
may subjoin, from the same repository, a part of
the testimony of the Marquis of Dtwset, after-
wards Dnke of Suffi>lk, who was eiamined prin-
cipally touching another of the charges brought
against Beymonr— his undertaking to marry the
king at bis own vrill and pleasure, and endeavour-
ing to seduce the marquis to his interests by a
promise that Edward should be united to his
daughter, the Lady Jane Orey. Dorset declares,
"that the tdnifs majae^ hath divers times made
his moan unto him, saying, that my ancle of So-
metaet dealeth very hardly with me, and keepeth
me BO strait that I cannot have money at my
will ; but my lord-admiral both sends me money
and gives me money.* These revelations illus-
trate the characters both of the king and Somer-
set, as well as the doings of the lord-admiral.

Intimation of Seymour's practices was given
to his brother, while he was in Scotland in Sep-
tember, 1S47, by Paget, who had previously re-
monstrated with the admiral on the oourse he
was pnrsning. It ta uneer^in whether Uiere was
any reconciliation between tiiem before the par-
liament met inKovember; butsoon-aftormatters
were brou^t to a oriais, by the lord-admiral's
project of indndng the king to write the letter
recommending his appointment as governor of
the royal person. Burnet's narrative would seem
to imply that the letter had been actually copied
and snhacrihed \sy the king; but this is inconsis-
tent both with what the admiral is made to say
in hia answer to the charges of the council, and
with Edward's own account. When the council
discovered what he was about, they sent some
of their members to confer with him in his bro-
ther's name, and to urge him to proceed no far-
ther ; but he refused to listen to them ; and he
paid as little regard to an order of the council,
which was then issued, summoning himtoappear
before them. When they passed a resolution,
however, that iio should be sent to the Tower,
and deprived of all his offices, he deemed it pru-
dent to make his 'submission; and, for the pre-
sent, the affair ended by a seemingly perfect
reconciliation being effected between the two
brothers. In the oourse of the following yenr
the admiral was gratified by a grant of a large
addition to his revenues from the crowo.

»Google

HISTORY OF ENOLAKD.

[ClYiX. AKI. Mil

Bat neither thia bribe nor the escape he had
made drew SeTmoor from the path of bU restless
ambition. We have seen, that before the end of
thia same year be had again begun to practiae
upon the king and the persons about his majestj
by secret gifts of inonej. For some time, how-
ever, he restrained his bold and liaughty temper
so far as not to coramit himself In any direct at-
tempt to upset his brother's poorer. While he
was thna lying in wait for what the course of
erents might produce, his wife, the Qneen-dowa-
ger Catherine, died, at Sndley Csatle, on the Stb

; f:f^--

Adiib or Sddlet Caati^ — From X.'poaS AuilqultlH of '

(by of September, 1548, seven days after hav-
ing given birth t« a daughter. From some ex-
presmooa that fell from her iu her last hours, a
suspicion arose that she had been poisoned, or
otberwiae made away with by the act of her hua-
band; bnt we are not entitled, from anything
that is known of Seymour, to think it probable
that he could he guilty of so black a crime bb
thia; and the circumstances, as far as they have
come down to ua, do not lend any countenance
to a sormise which the partiality of some mo-
dem wrilera to the memoiy tA the one brother
seems chiefly to have inclined them to adopt
against the other.

"It is objected, and laid unto your charge,"
say the council, in one of their articles exhibited
against the lord-admiral, "that yon have not
only, before you married the queen, attempted
and gone about to marry the king's majesty's
sister, the I^dy Elizabeth, second inheritor iu
remainder to the crown, but also, being then let
(hindersd) by the lord-prote^r and others of
the council, sithence that time, both in the life of
the queen continued your old labour and love,
and after her death, by secret and crafty means,
practiaed to achieve the said purpose of marry-
ing the said Lady Elizabeth, to the danger of the

kin^a majesty's p««on, and peril of the ctate of
tbe sarae." The evidence contained in the Bargh-
leg Paptrt, if it doea not completely sustain this
chai^, at least supplies a very interesting and
remarkable chapter in the biography of the great
Elizabeth. It should appear that Seymour,
whatever were his designs upon the priuceas, had
in his interest, or at any rat« as favourably dis-
posed to him aa he could desire, no leas conve-
nient a personage titan ber highness' govemesi,
a Mrs. Catherine A^ley. Thomas Parry, the
cofierer of the princess' iiouaehold, relates a oon-
veraatiou he had with this lady,
in which she admitt«d to him that
even the Duchess of Somerset had
:_ ~ ' found great fault with her "for

:__"-- my Lady EILcabeth's going iu a

_-~.~.~ S - night iu a barge upon Thames,

and for other light pnrtci," and
had told her, in consequence, that
she was not worthy to have the
governance of a king's daughter.
On the subject of the court paid
t^ the admiral to the princess,
" I do remember also,' says Parry,
"she told me that the admiral
loved ber bnt too well, and had
so done a good while, and that the
queen(Catherine Parr) was jealous
on her ahd him, in so much that
lowwlanhin. one time the queen, suspecting the

often access of the admiral to the
lady Elizabeth's grace, came suddenly upon them
when they were all alone, he having her in his
afms, wherefore the qneen fell out both with the
lord-admiral and with her grace also. And here-
upon the queen called Mrs. Aahley to her, and
told her fancy in that matter ; and of this was
much displeasure." At this time, it appears, the
princess was living with the queen-do wager; but,
immediately after the above incident, she either
removed of her own accord, or was sent away.
But Mrs. Ashley may be allowed to speak for
herself, at least in so far aa her somewhat naively
eipreased detaila will bear to be quoted. In her
"Confession," in which of course she coufeaaes
as little as possible against herself, she states that
at Chelsea, immediately after he was married to
the queen, the admiral used frequeutly to come
into the I^wiy Elisabeth's chamber before she was
ready, and sometimes before she was out of bed.
If aha were up, he would slap her familiarly on
the back or on the hips; "and if she wer« in her
bed, he would putopen the curtains and bid her
good morrow, and make as though be would conn
at her; and she would go further iu the bed, so
that he could not come at her. And one morning
he strave to have kissed her in her bed.* At
this last and some other instances of boldness

»Google

-1549.]

EDWARD VI.

23

iin. Ashlej profeBMS to have been dul; shocked,
and to b&ve rebuked the admini] as be deserved.
Other insUueeB of the admiral'* audacity are
given, but these ma; aerve as auffident speci-
meiu. Hn. ABhIejr admita she had xeaaoa to
Buppose that the queen wkb jealoua of the fuui-
liarity betwixt her hoaband and the princesa;
aod "she oaith alao, that Mr. Aehlej, her hue-
band, hftth divers timea given this ezauinate
wamiDg to take heed, for he did fear that the
Iddy Elizabeth did bear aoroe eSection to mj
lord-admiral; ahe seemed to be well pleaaed
therewith ; and aometiroes she would blush when
he were spoken of.' Elizabeth also makes her
"Confession' among the rest; but it relates
merely to whst had psased between her and Mrs.
Ashley after the queen's death, on the subject
of the lord-admiral's wish to marry her, and, oB
might be eipected, contains nothing to her own
disadvantage. She maintains that Mrs. Ashley
never advised the marriage except on condition
it should prove agreeable to the protector and
the council. In a letter, however, which she
wrote from BatGeld to the protector in January,
1549, while the proceedings agabst Seymour
were in progress, she meutiona a circnmatance
which we should not otherwise have known —
namely, that rumours had got abroad that she
was "in tie Tower and with child by my lotd-
admiral." These imputations she declares to be
"shameful slanders,' and reqnesta that, to pnt
them down, ahe may be allowed to come imme-
diately to court. It appears, however, that all
these examinations gave her no little disturbance
snd alarm, though, young as she was — only en-
tering upon her sixteenth year—alie bore herself,
in the delicate and difficult position in which she
was thereby placed, with a wonderful deal of
the courage and politic management that she
evinced on ao many occasions in her aft«r life.

The lord-admiral'a renewal of his pretensions
la the hand of Elizabeth after the death of his
queen, aeems to have at once brought matters to
another open quarrel between him and hia bro- '
tber. The Marquia of Northampton, one of the <
persons whom he had sought to seduce to a par-
ticipation in his designs, relates in his examina-
tion, or confession, that Seymour had told higi
" he was credibly informed that my lord-protector
had said' he would clap bim iu the Tower if he
went to my Lady Elizabelb; These threats, and
the obstacle that presented itself to his schemes
in the clause of the late king's will, which provi-
ded that, if either uf the princeasea should marry
without tbe consent of the council, she should
forfeit her right of succession, roused all the
natural impetuosity and violence of his temper,
pnd drove bim again to intrigues and plota, and
other measorea of desperaUon. One Wightmao ,

who held an office in his establishment, stated to
the council that he and others of his friends bad
earnestly dissuaded him " from writing of such
sharp and unsavoury letters to my loixl-protec-
tor'a grace," but withont effect It is asaerted
that, seeing he oould not otherwise achieve his
object, he resolved to seize the king's person,
and to carry him away to his castle of Holt, in
Denbighshire, one of the properties he had ac-
quired by the late royal grant ; that for the fur-
therance of this and his ulterior designs, he had
confederated with various noblemen and others;
that he had so travailed in the matter as to have
put himself iu a condition to raise an army of
10,000 men out of his own tenantry and other
immediate adherents, in addition to the forces
of his friends; and that he hod got ready money
enough to pay and maintain the said 10,000
men for a month.' He is alao chat;ged widi
having, in varions ways, abused hia authority
and powers aa lord-admiral, and of having ac-
tually taken part with pirates agiunst the law-
ful trader, "aa though," saya one of tbe artidea,
"you were authorized to be the chief pirate, and
to have had all the advantage they could bring
unto you."' All these proceedings, it is affirmed,
were "to none other end and purpose but, after
a title gotten to the crown, and yonr party mode
strong both by sea and land, with fumitiu^ of
men and money suf&cient, to have aspired to
tbe dignity royal by some heinous enterprise
against the king's majesty's person." ' The coun-
cil do not venture to indude in their indictment
what Burnet has set down oa one of the lord-
admiral's chief Crimea, his having "openly oom-
pkined that his brother intended to enalave the
nation, and make himself master of all;' aa a
glaring proof of which be paiticnlarly pointed to
a force of laneqnenets which the protector bad
brought over and kept in bis pay. It appears,
from the Burghleg Paperi, that tbe immediate
ocCBoion of proceedings being taken against Sey-
mour was a confession made to tbe coundl by
Sir William Sharington, master of the mint at
Bristol, who bad been taken up and examined
on a charge of clipping, coiniug base money, and
other frauds. Sharington had been, in the first
instance, defended fay the admiral, who, it appears,
was his debtor to a considerable amount ; but he
eventually admitted his guilt, and informed the
council, in addition, that he bad been in league
with the admiral (o supply him with money for
the designe that have just been recounted. There
can be no doubt that Sharington made this con-
fession to save bis own life; in point of fact, he
woe, after a short time, not only pardoned, but
restored to his former appointment. But the

> AitittasfHtgfaTi

■IbldU.

,v Google

34

HISTOHT OF ENGLAND.

[ClTH. AKO UlUTAKT.

adminl wa> instuitlj ^19di Jannai;, 1549) aent
to the Tower.

Sefiaonr bad now no ehuice of eaeape. Afaaii'
doned bj er^rj friend on earth, he lay paanve
and helpIeM in hi* pruon-honae, while "many
mmplaintB,* aa Bnniet obaerreB, " being naoaUy
brought against a ■inUng man,' all who aonght
to make tbnr own poadtiona more aecore, or to
adrauee themselvea in court favour, baateatd b>
add their ooatribntion to the cbargca or the eri-
dei^el^ which he was to be destroyed. Attempts
wen made to pemiade him to sabmit himaelf, by
woiUng both apoa his lean and hia hopes : but
he would oonfes no part of the tieaaonable
designa impnted to him. There is, indeed, no
proof or jnobabilily whatever tbnt his newa ex-
tended to Buytiiing beyond the mipplanting of
Somefset; it waa a ataniggle for aacendem? be-
tween the two Inothert, and nothing more. The
proceedings taken against the accused were, from
the b^inning to the end, a flagrant Tiolalion of
all law and jostdce. After he had been aereral
timea secretly examined, without anything ma-
terial being exb«ct«d from him, by depntationa
of the privy eonndl, on the S3d of Febrtiary tilt
whole oouDcil proceeded in a body to the Tower,
with the ctuuges against him drswn out in thirty-
three aiticlca, to eudeavoor to bring him to nb-
misnou. Bat to all their threats and peisnaaiona
he insiated, as he had all along done, npon an
open trial, and being Imiaght &ee to foce with
hia accnsen. At last ha so for yielded to thtar
importnnities as to say tliat, if they wonld leave
the arlidca with him, he wonld consider of them;
but even with thla proposal they refused to com-
ply. Hie next day, " after dinner," the lord-chan-
oellor, in the presence of the other councillors,
"opened the matter to the king, and delivered
his opinion for leaving it to the pariiament* It
is pretended that this was the Arat time the sub-
ject bad been mentioned— at least at the council-
board— to Edward; and, therefore, the greater
admintion was calliid forth by the jwompt judg-
ment of the youthful sovovign, and the equani-
mity with which he cooaeuted to sacrifice his
imcle to the public weal. After each of the other
conncillon had expressed his approbation of the
course recommendod by the chancellor, and, last
of all, ths protector, who protested "this was a
nujst furrowf nl bnsineas to him, but were it son
rir brother, he must prefer hia majesty's safety to
them, for he weighed his allegiance more than
his blood,' his majesty answered, "We perceive
that there are great dungs objected and laid to
my lord-admiral, my uncle, and they tend to
treason; and we percnve that you require but
justice to be done; we think it reasonable, and we
will that you proceed according to your request"
The very next day, a bill of attainder againat

the lord-admiral was brought into the House of
Ijords; all the judges and the kin^a council gave
it aa their opinion that the articleB amounted to
treason; various lords, who had already made
depositions against the accused repeated their
evidmce ; and the bill was at last passed without
a diviaiou. Somerset himself was peeaeat at each
reading. On the same day (the S7th) it was sent
down to the oommcus. But here it encountered,
at first, considerable oppoaition. "Many argaed
against attainders in atMence, and thongfat it an
odd way, that some peers should rise np in their
places in their own house, and relate somewhat
to the Blander ot another, and that he should be
thereupon sttunted ; theiefore it was pressed
that it mi^t be done by a trial, and that the
admiral should be brought to the bar, and be
heard ]de«d for himself." ' This heotation was
at first attempted to be met by a meaaage from
the other house, repeating, what had been inti'
mated when the bill waa first sent down, that the
lords who were aoquainted with the facto would,
if required, repeat their evidence before the com-
mons. But it was not deemed raqnisite even to
go throo^ this formality. On the 4th of March
a meaaage came from the kin^ which stated diat
"he thought it waa not neecttary to send for the
admiral;* and thereupon the bill was agreed to,
in a houaa of about 400 membem, not more than
tea or twelve voting in the negative.* Hie par>
liameut having been pii»ogued oa tiie 14th — on
which day the royal assent was given to the InII
— on the 17th the council issued the warrant tor
the admiral's execution. Burnet noticee it as "a
littJe odd," that this order of blond should be
ngned by Ciaiuner — a thing which be says was
contrary to the canon law; bnt he makes no
remark upon what will appear to most penoDs a
still atranger indecorum, and a violatioa almost
of the law of nature — that the first name attached
to it should be that of the condemned man'a own
brother!* The Bishop of Ely was immediately
sent to convey to Seymour the detemiination of
the government, and "to inistruct and teach hin
the best he conld to the quiet and patient suffer-
ing of justice.* The bishop reported to the ooiin-
ell that the prisoner "required Hr. I^timar to
cometobim; the day of execution to be deferred;
certain of his servants to be with him ; his dangli-
ter to be with my I^y Duchess of Suffolk to be
brought np; and such like." To these requests
the coundl instructed their secretary to write

' HUjiB, in bit aotm le Harnid. hH (Ina ■ fall ■
duH proeaadlnp tmta tb« Jommaia ol lb* two IwMi*

»Google

is9!mmK9mm!&m

4.D. IMS— IBM.] EDWA

"ilmr rMoIute anftMr to the said tord-admiral;"
by which appears to be meant that thej put their
D^ative upon moat of them. The ezecatton took
place on Wednesdaj, the 80th, on Tower-hili,
when SejmMir died protesting that he had nersr
committed or meant anytrcaMin against the kio^
or the realm.' It should appear that he was
attended, aa he had requested, in his last moments
fay lAtimer, who made some eztiaordinary re~
marfca, both on bis deaUi and hia life, in a sermon
he preached before the king, a few dajs after. It
was commonly observed, it seems, that tbe ad-
miral had died very boldly, and that "he would
not hare done to, had he not been in a just quar-
reL* This la&ner declares to be "a deeeivablB
argument" "This I will say," he proceeds, "if
they ask me what I think of his death, that
he died very dangcrooaly, irksomely, horribly."
"He was," eonelndee t)ie aealons orator, "a man
farthest from the fear of Qod that ever I knew or
heard of in England. ... I have heard say he
was of the opinion that he belisveil not the im-
mortality of the Bool — that he was not right in the
mBtter.'* Some additional toaches are given to
the picture in another eennou:— "I have beard
say, when that good queen (Catherine Parr) that ia
gone, had ordained in herhoose doily prayer both
tkefore noon and after noon, the admiral gets him
out of the way, like a mole digging in the earth.
Re shall be Lol^ wife to me aa long as I live.
He was a covetous man, an horrible covetous

ay Ti. 25

man; I would there were no mo in England He
was an ambitious man ; I would there were no
mo in England. He was a seditions man, a con-
temner of Common Prayer; I would there were
no mo in England. He ia gone ; I would he had
left none behind him." In ambition and covehius-
ness, if not in oontempt of the Common Prayer,
Seymonr, it is to be feared, did leave at least one
man behind him who was fnlly his match. His
danghter, of whom Qaeen Catherine had died in
childbed, was an infant of scarce six months old
when she lost her second parent; soon after which
event she was, as her father had requested, com-
mitted to tha charge of tbe Ducbees of Suffolk.
As the child was ntterly penniless, aa well as an
orphan, her uncle, the weattby and powerful
lord - protector, in thus oonsigning her to the
hands of strangerB, promised that an annual sum
should be allowed for ber maintenance, and that
aquantityof plate and otfaerfumiture which she
had had in her nursery should be sent along with
her to the house of the Dncheas of Suffolk. It
will hardly be believed that neither the allowaneo
in money, nor even the plate and other arUdes,
could be got for many months out of the hard
grip of Somerset and his duchesa : indeed, it is
probable they never were obtained. Bat if So-
merset ever did make any allowance for the aup-
port of his niece, he was very soon delivered
from the burden, for in a few month* more the
poor child followed its parents to the grave.

CHAPTER X.— CIVIL AND MILITABY HISTORY.— a.d. 1649—1653.

EDWABD VI.

ropalsr tomnlti in Englind— Their canHs— Beligions chatscter imparted to them— Their progna in DeTOuhim
~Th«r rappnwi on— Rebellion in Norfolk— Ita Tiolonoe and exeeMea— It ii mpprsBed bj the Earl of War-
wiok — PacnHar chanotar of tbeaa imoTTeotioni — SUte of Sootland — Qnarreli between Um Etooti and th^
alliaa the Franch — I>iautiafMitlon againat the Protector Somsnet — OSenee ocodoDBd by hia arrogance and
npactty—The £arl of Wanriok and the noblea combine aguoct hin — He <■ placed under arreet — He ia im-
piisaiMil, tried, and fined — Peace conclnded irith France and Bcotland — Trial and eiacntion of Joan of Eeal
— Biihop Bonner aent to priwn— Ecoleaiaitical sTsnti — Oppodtion of the Princeta Mary— The Dnlu of ScmeT'
■at iDbignee to re^in power and office— The Earl of Warwick created Duke of Northumberland— Tbe Doke
of Somerset ureiled on a charge of treason — Accniationa brou^t againat him — His trial and elocution —
Proceeding! of parliament — Ambition of the Duke of NorthumbBrlaDd— He strengthecB himaelf bjr tamjly
alliaooea — EudeaTonn to procnre the ineoenion (o the thitme tor his daughter-in-law Ladj Jane Qrej — Ed-
ward in hii Un illnaa moved to that etfeot—Hia sonaent obtained— Death of Edward VI. ,

b HE tragedy of the lord-admiral was
followed by a summer of popular
tumult and confosion, such as had
not been known in flngland since
the rebellion of Jack Cade, almost
exactly 100 years before. Several
ntiaes of various kinds concnired at this crisis
Vol. II.

to throw the peasantry in all parts of the country
into a state of extraordinaiy excitability, or what
may be called a predisposition to disorder and
insurrection. Tbe following passage occutb in a

IftOH.

,v Google

26

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

tCiv

, AXD MiUTAr.T.

letter trrilten by tha protector himaelf :— "The
caosefl uid pretences of tben uproan and rwingB
(ire divers and nncertftin, uid so fall of variet]'
ahnoet in eveiy camp [aa tbejr call them), that it
is hard to write whftt it ia ; ks je know ia like to
be of people withont bead and rule, and that
woold have they wot not what. Some crietb,
Plnck down incloaurea and parka; some (or their
oommonB; others pretend the religion; a nnmber
would mle another while, and direct things aa the
gentlemen have done; and, indeed, ell have con-
ceived a wonderful hate agaiiut gentlemen, and
Uketh them all aa their enemiea. The ruffians
among them and the Boldiera, which be the chief
doeia, look for spoil. So that it seemeth no other
Uiing but a plague and a fnrj amongst the vileat
and wont *ort of men."' The discontent of the
people, in fact, aa usually happens, appears to
haveoriginated in their actnal sufferings, although
it may have been blown into a flame by provoca-
tions addreased chiefly to their fancies and pre-
judices, and, of eouree, would then be apt to catch
at whatever principle or arrangement chanced to
come in its way in any part of tiie whole machine
of gOTemment or of sodety. One leading cause
of the economical embarraaement and distress in
which the kingdom wsa at thia time involved,
appears to have been the exeenive depreciation
which the eurrency had undergone iu the coarse
of the lat« and the present reigns. This must
necesBorily have enhanced the nominal prices of
the necessaries of life, and, if wages did not rise
in proportion, must have pressed with cruel
severity upon the labouring classes. Bat the rise
of the remonention for labour which, inanatural
and healthy state of things, would have accom-
panied the rise of the money prices of all odier
things, is BBSerted to have been prevented in the
present case fay certain peculiar circumstances,
which acted partly bo aa to diminish employment
ortbedemsjid for labour, partly so aa to aogment
the nombera of persons dependent upon labour.
The cause that principally diminished the demand
for labour is affirmed to have been the conver-
sion of land from tillage to pasturage, which was
promoted by the increasing price at wool. It is
certain that this change in the agriculture of
the eoontry was a subject of general complaint
throughout a great part of the eisteenth century;
and repeated attempts were even made by the
l^i^tnie to restnun its pn^ress, so that we
must believe it to have actually, or at least ap-
patently, taken place to some extent. But we
are inclined to think that its real effect upon the
market of labonr was greatly eiaggemted in the
popular imagination. It ia, at least, not very
easy to reconcile the alleged evil of diminished

employment thence arising, with the nearly
equally lond and frequent complaints which ai'e
at the same time made of the diminution of the
population, which is asserted to have followed
from the same cause. We may obaerve, that the
number ot persons having the commodity called
labour to dispose of had, from a succeanon of
canses, been on the increase in Eng^d for the
last two centuries. So long as the system of
villanage anbsiated in ila integrity, there oonld,
properly speaking, be no market of labour, in so
far at least as regarded the business of agricul-
ture, then constituting the great field of the na-
tional indnstry; the labonrer then stood iu the
relation of a mere machine, requiring, indeed, like
other machines, to be fed and maintained, bnt
having nothing more to do with the dispose of
his labonr than a modem steam-enghic. The
decay, and eventually the extinction of viUanage,
first gave birth, as ha* been already shown, both
to freedom of labour and to pauperism— called
into being at once the two classes of labourers
for hire, wad paupers or beggars, which are really
only the two dividona of one great class, that of
the persons whose only exchangeable possession
is their labour; the former being those who hare
been able to dispose of this commodity, the latter
thoee who have not. Every change that after-
wards snapped any of theold attachments that had
kept men practically fixed to the land, though
not periiaps by any absolutely legal bond, added
to the nnmber of both of these sections of the
population. This was one of the effects of the
breaking up of the old Norman feudalism in the.
reign of Heniy VII., by the new facilities given
to the gT«at landholders of alienating their eatat«B.
It was also oae ri the efiiecta of the overthrow of
the old ecclesiastical system in the last and the
present reign. The nnmerous monastic eetablish-
ments all had, as well as the great landholders,
their crowds of retainers and depaidantA— partly
tenants and servants who lived upon their estates,
partly paupers and mendicants, who were fed by
their charity. There were also the inmates of
the religious bouses themselves, male and female,
a far from insignificant addition. All these pel"-
sons, or at lesst by far the greater number of
them, were tJirown loose from tenures of shelter
and maintenance, which might, in the case ot each
of them, be considered more or less fixed and sure,
and were sent to swell the overflowing str«am of
that labour which had nothing but the chances
of the market to tmst to. And nloag witik liir
other causes contributing' to the same state cf
things, may be mentioned even the uprooting af
old feelings, habits, and connections, l^ the mwit
ferment excited in men's minds hy the preacUug
of the new opinions in religion ^fiercely resistCil
by many, eagerly received by otheis, and by not

»Google

1.D 154ft-lM3.]

EDWARD VI.

27

a few ctmied oat into all the extravagMieea of
faoatidam nnd even of liceationuMn. It oould
not be bat that thia gsnukl itAte of ezdtainent,
ftmonating in rnouf caiea to enthnuann or deli-
rium, tbould bave mBde nombers of people im-
patient of all aober and r^ular industry, and set
them adrift oa the aea of Ufa without «ilher chart
or aim. It ia eaajr, from all this, to uadaiBtaiid
bow the present iiiM)iT«ctioii took the shape and
the Binrit it did. Its chief crj soon came to be
the reitoration of the old religioo, and vengeance
against tboM who had wrought and profited hj
its downfall. The priesta, of eoutae, and other
leaden lA the Fopiab party, found it eaaj to torn
the gaca of the ezaapemted people upon the moat
imme^ide Knd obvioua aonrcea of their nferiDgs,
or what could be platudbly re)n««ented aa auch;
and did not Defect BO hvourable an o( '
wtimag np their moat energetic feelings in behalf
of ^e andmt Kpstiua and agidnat the innoTatione,
which BBemed onlj to hare benefited a few of the
upper clawwa at the expense of the great
the nation.

From Holinabed'a account, it wonld appear
that a proceeding on the part of the protector,
of Tei7 qaeationahle wiodon, or, at anj rate, ma-
naged with bat little discretion, was the spark
that kindled the flame. This was a proclamation
whkh h« iBBued "against indoanrM, and taking
in of fields and conimone that were accnstomed
to li« open for tiie behoof of the inhAbitanta
dwelling near to the same, who had grievoualj
complained of gentlemen and others for taking
from them the use of those fields and commons.''
It ia probable enough that some landholders
may have acted in a harah and oppresaiTe mannei

n thus Improving their eatatea; but it does not
^ipear that any legal rights were generally vio-
lated; and, at all events, if th«f were, this rcTal
proclamation itself was as ill^al and anjnBt as
anything tiiat the landlords could have done. It
settled the matter in a very nummary way indeed
— aimplj commandmg that all commons that had
been inclosed should, mider a penalty, be laid
open again by a certain day. "But how well
soever,* proceeds the chronicler, " the setters forth
of thia proclamation meant, thinking thereby,
peradventore, to appease the grudge of the people
tbtlt found titemselvea grieved with such indo-
lurea, yet verily it tamed not to the wished
effect, bat nither ministered occasicni of a foul
and dangerons disorder. For whereaa there
few that obeyed the commandment, the nnadvised
people presuming upon their proclamation, think-
ing they should be borne out by them that had
set it forth, rashly witboot order took upon them
to redress the matter; and Maembling th«naelvee
hi unlawful wise, choee to them captains and
leaders, broke open the endoaurea, east down

ditches, killed up the deerjs'hich they foond in
parks, spoiled and made havoc after the manner
of an open rebellion." The narratives of the
commencement of the disturbances are singularly
'arious and oontradictMy. In fact, the convul-
sion, which j^obably broke oat in different places
nearly at the same time, seems to have n^iidly
ipread in all directions, till it had extended itself
)Ter the gTeat«r part of the kingdom. Accord-
ing to Bnmet,the protector's proclamation against
the inclosurea, which waa "kA out contrary to
the mind of the whole council,* appeared afttr
the first risiugs in Wilts and elsewhere; it waa
designed to pacify the people, and was aooom-
panied with another, indemnifying or pardoning
the ioBurgenta for what was past, provided they
sboold cany themselves obediently for the future.
Commueions," proceeds the historian, "were
also sent evnywbere, with an unlimited power
to the commisaionen to hear and determine all
causes abont enclosures, highways, and oottagea.
The vast power these oommiaaioners assumed
mnch complained of ; the landlords said it
an invasion of their property, to subject them
thus to the pleasure of those who were sent to
examine the matten, without proceeding in the
irdinary courts according to law.* A more illegal
ind arbiteary act, indeed, than the issuing of
these eommissions never wsa attempted in the
moat deapolic times. Nor, prompted as it was 1^
a weak or interested craving after populari^, did
it socceed in the only object it proposed to have,
and for which all otiter considerations were dis-
regarded— the Batisfying of the popular clamour.
" The commons," proceeds Burnet, "being encour-
aged t^ the favour they heard tiae protector bcav
them, and not able to govern their heat, or atay
for a more peaceable issue, did rise again, but
were anew quisted. Yet the protector being op-
posed much by die council, he was not able to
redress thia grievanoe so fnlly as the people hoped.
So in Oxfordshire and Devonshire they rose
again, and also in Norfolk and Yorkshire."'

It seems to have been in Devonshire that the
religious cry was first raised. Here the commons,
besides " Humphrey Arundel, Esq., governor ei
the Mount," and other laymen, had for their
captains a number of Fo}ush priests, by whose
"instigation and pricking forward" they are
said to have beeo diiefly excited and directed in
thtix proceedings. Their riidng began on the
10th of June, on which day they asaembled in
armed array to the number of nearly 10,000
men, " At oourt," says Boroet, " it whs hoped

tet-.MIai.'rl.tlt-m, Tbawi

w niaxt tandHicj ftf Um jmUirtos't mods of picmedlng, >

» bM iptn laD* upUdt •nmch iBiiiIaH la till nadKi.

»Google

28

UISrORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil 4BD MhjTjIbt

this might be u eMil; dupened u the other ! wu Mnt in th« king's owd uuae. Edward wm
riaiug* were; bat the protector wu against run- | tnade to begin bj «!! luting in stning ud iinn
ning into eitranitiea, and ao did Dot more ao tenna, but atiU in the tone of penuadon, npou
•peediiy aa the thing reqaiied.' At last, Bft«r| the gteatneaa of the royal authority, and the ob-
the rebel* had tat down before Exeter, and b«d | ligation thftt lay upon the aubject to yield it til
began touaMdt that city,' Lord Bnaaell waaaent obedience. Somepartagf the expcwtionhegiTe
to oKMinler (hem with a amall force ; bnt either { of the kin^y office are eariooa and characteria-
he found them in too great Btiength to be pra- [ ti& The rebels had jvoposed that the aettle-
dently attacked, or he waa realnined by hia in- ment to be then made ahould atand till the king
ibuctiona from adopting dedaire meanuee, and, waa of full age. In demonatntioo of the foUj
keeping at a reapectfol-dlBtauce from the inaor- i of this aotiou, Edward infomu them that, ai-
gent camp, he announced that he waa ready to . though "ai a tiatui«l man and creatore of Qod,"
reeeire any oomplainta they had to make, and to he had youth, and by his aufferance ihouM have
trauarait them to the conndl. On this, Aninile] sge, yet as a king ha bad no difference of yeara.*
and his followers drew up their demands, firatin They are afterwanla aaked to consider the foUj
seven, and afterwarda in fifteen articles; the most they were committing iu making it neeeesuy

material points of which were, that all the decrees
of tile general conncils ahonld be observed ; that
the statute of the Six Articles ahoold be again pat
in force ; that the mass ahould be in lAtin ; Uiat
the sacrament shonld be hanged up and wor-
shipped, and that tiioae who refoaed to worship
it shoold suffer as heretica ; that the sacrament
shonld only be given to the people at EaBt«r, and
in one kind ; Uiat holy bread, holy water, and
palms should be again used, and that images
should be set up, with all Uie other ancient cere-
monies; that the priests shonld "sing or E«y,
with an ftadiUe voice, Ood'a service in the choir
* of the parish churches, and not Ood^ service to
be set forth like a Ghriatmaa play* (so they
press their notion of the new Liturgy); that all
preachers in their sermons, and prieata in the
mass, ibould pray for the souls in purgatory;
that the Bible ahould be called in ; that Cardinal
Pole should be made one of the king's oonncil;
that every gentleman should be allowed only one
servant for every 100 marks of yearly rent that
belonged to him; that the half of the church
lands should be given back to two of the chief ab-
beys inevei7 county; and, finally, tJiat other grie-
vances, more particularly affecting themselves,
should be redreaaed, as the king should be ad-
vised l^ Arundel and the mayor of Bodmin, for
whom they desired a safe-conduct. Theae arti-
cles, which certwnly do aavour of priestly inapi-
ratioD, were transmitted to the council, at whose
command Cranmer, whose departm ent they seemed
principally to concern, drew up a formal and ela-
borate reply to them, in which they were not
only rejected in the mass, but severally argued
agiinat a* contrary to right reason and the Scrip-
tures. The Insurgents then reduced their de-
mands to eight articles, being, in substance, a
selection from their former propositions, with the
addition d one, which it is strange should have
been omitted in tbe fint instance, iuaiating
that priests shonld " live chaste witbout mai^
riage." To these a long and eloquent answer

that their king ahould spend that force npcu
them which be had meant to bestow upon their
foreign euemiea— " to make a conqnest of our
own people, which otberwiseshould have been of
the whole nalm of Scotland.* The menage can
hardly be said to be "all penned,' aa Buiuet de-
Bcribes it, "in a high threatening style," but it
must be allowed that it risea to that at the clwe.
"If ye provoke us further," it concludes, "we
swear by the living God, ye shall feel the power
of the same God iu our sword, which how mightf
it is, no subject knowetb; how puissNit it i^
no private man can judge; how mortal, no Eog-
liahman dare think." But the rebels, who by
thia time hod been a whole month iu anns—fOT
the paper is dated the Bth of Jnly— wera neither
to be moved by its threats nor by its reasonings.
The citizens of Exeter, however, perusted in
keeping l^ir gates shut against them, although
from the closeuees with which they were belea-
guered, they were at length reduced to the moit
distressing extremities. The rebels were [»o-
vided with ordnance, which they planted a^inst
the several gates of the town; and eventually
they burned the gatea, and " broke up the pipes
and condoits, aa well for the taking away of the
wtLter coming to the city, as also to have the lead to
aerve for their shot and pellets.'' On thia the citi-
sens erected ramparts within the openings thus
made, which were found much more efleotive for
defence than the wooden gates oould have been.
The becdegen next attempted to undermine the
walla ; but in thia also they were foiled by the vi-
gilance of the citizens, who, having discovered the
trains, made them uaeleaa by deluging them with
water. One great difficulty that the magistrates
had to contend with was the existence of a power-
ful Popish faction among the inbabitanta. These
having been prevented by the authorities from
admitting the rebels, eudeavourcd, by many pri-
vate communications and stratagems, to favour
their enterpriae, and counteract the efforts that
were made to oppose them. And, what was

»Google

i.D. 1M9 '1M3.)

EDWARD VI.

S9

■till more perplexing, a dlTiaion at one time
broke out in the Proteatuit party, in oooae-
quence of » differenoe of opinion as to the me»-
eores to be adoptod between two of their leaders,
John Conrteuaj u)d Bamud Doffield, which
rose to great Tiolence. Want of Tictnab also at
length began to pinch them, so that while the
ddzens were reduced to loaves of bran and other
tuuaToitiy tnwh, tho inisonera in the jail were
forced to feed npon horaefleah. All this while
Lord Bnssall had been prevented from taking
mj DieasnreB for the relief of the plaue hy the
eitiaordinary neglect or procraatination of t^
goTemment, which, full of the conceit of pulling
down the nbela hy manifeata«fl or sermons, would
neither Knd him a ninforeement of men nor an j
other supplica. When be sent Sir Peter Carew
to the comi, that gallant person, who had acted
with great promptitnde and decision at the first
breaking out of the revolt, and woold probabljr
hare supprened it at once if he had received
aaj Ripport from the gorernment, waa afaanrdlj
charged hy Bomanet with having been the eole
oecasioQ of it, the ready tongue of Rich, the dian-
oelbr, echoing his patron's accosation. Ruasell
having long looked for tne soppiies in run, " was
daily more and more forsaken of soch of the
common people as at the first served and offered
their service nnto him. And having but a very
■mall guard aboot him, he lived in mare fear
tlian he was feared* At last some money waa
obt^Ded by certain merehanta of Exeter, who
happened to be in the camp, pledging their cre-
dit to those of Bristol, Lynn, Taunton, and other
towns. By this time the rebels were actually on
their march to attack the king's troops, which
were now stationed at Honiton; but Rnssell,
vhooe spirits were raised by the supply of money,
on hearing of their advance, marched forth to
oppose them, and the two armies met at Fen-
nington bridge, where the rebels, in the end, sus-
tained a complete overthrow. Shortly after. Lord
Gray, with a troop of horse, and a band of 300
Italian infentiy under Spinola, at last arrived
from the capital, and, thus strengthened, RuMell
marched npon Exeter; and, after defeating the
rebels in another engagement, effected his en-
trance into the hmished dty on the 6th of Au-
gust, and raised the siege, which had now Iast«d
five weeks. Before this saccese was achieved,
however, a deplorable affair happened. Lord
Cray, espying a multitude assemUed on a height,
by whom he apprehended that he night be at-
ta^ed, ordered the prisoners he had already
taken— of whom the number was very oonsider-
able— to be all killed, which waa done imme-
diately, eveiy man despatching those he had in
char^. Tbe dispersion of the insurgents was
followed hj the same conduct on the part of the

ruyal army, as if they had pnt to route a foreign
enemy in his own country; "for the whole conn-
try was then pnt to the spoil, and every soldier
fcnght for his beet profit' Qibbets wen also
set np in various places, on which great nnm-
bers of the ringleaders in the rebellion were
hanged. Otben, and especially Arandel, the
chief captain, were carried to London, and there
executed. It was redumed that abtnit 4000 in
all perished, by the sword or by the hands of tlie
executioner, of those engi^ed in this Devonshire

" Abont the same time,' continues the chroni-
cler, " that this rebellion began in the west, the
like disordered horles were attempted in Oz-
fordslure and Buckinghamshire ; but they were
speedily suppressed 1^ the Lord Oray (rf Wil-
ton." Elsewhere, also, both in tbe soutliem and
eastern parts of the kingdom, similar attempts
were made, and many disorders committed; but
the only other quarter where the commotion
rose to a seriou hogbt was in Norfolk. The
Norfolk rebellion assumed a character altogether
different from that of Devonshire, the complaints
and demands of the people ronning, not at all,
or very litUe, npon religion, but chiefly upon
grievantMS affecting their worldly condition and
points of temporal poliUcs. They were first
roused in the early part of the BUMiner.by the
mmoura of what had been done by the commons
of Kent in dirowing down ditches and hedgea,
and opening inclosures. The first general linng
of the people took place on the 6th of July, at
Wymondham or Windham, about six miles from
Norwich, on occasion of a public play, " which
play had been accustomed yearly to be kept in
that town, continuing for the space of one night
and one day at the least" They began, in imita-
tion of the Kentish men, by throwing down the
ditches (or dikes) around inclosures; and, while
they were thus employed, it is said that " one
John Flowerdew of Betherset, gentleman, find-
ing himself grieved with the casting down of
some ditches, came unto some of the rebels, and
gave to them forty pence to cast down tbe fences
of an inclosure belonging to Robert Ket, alias
Knight, a tanner of Wymondham, which they
did."' The tanner, however, was more than s
match for the gentleman at this sort of work:
he without difficulty induced the same mob that
had torn down his fences to aooompany him the
next morning to certain pasture grounds belong-
ing to Flowerdew, which were also surrounded
with hedges and ditches. Flowerdew tried to
persuade them to withdraw, bnt he could not
rule or extinguish the flame so easily as he had
blown it op, "Ket, beingamanhardyand forward

»Google

HISTOBY OP ESGLASD.

[Civu. A

J MlUTiCT.

to any despenle Bttempt that ilironld be taken
in hand, was Btni^t cmtcTcd i&to inch eitunatioii
with the commoiu thna anembled together in
rebclliona wiae, that hia will waa accompliahed ;
and eo thoae faedgn and ditchea belanging to the
paatore groinidB of Mr. Flowerdew were thrown
down and made plain. Hereupon waa Ket cbo-
KQ to he their captain and rin^eader, who, beii^
reeolved to aet all on aiz and seven, willed them
to be of good comfort, and to follow him in de-
fence of their common liberty, being readj in
the commonwealth's eanie, to hazard both life
nnd gooda.* Bf aeceeaiona from all parta of Noi^
folk and Snffblk, the rioten, thai proHded with
a mitable leader, rapidlf inereaaed, till " there
were OMembled together into Ket^a camp to the
number of 16,000 nngracioiu nnthrifta, who, bj
the advice of their captiuni, fortified themselvee,
and made provlaion of artillerj, powder, and
other habiliments, which they fetched out of
•hips, gentlemen's homes, and other places where
an J waa to be foond; and withal spoiled the
country of all the cattle, riches, and ooin on which
they might lay hands."

Aa time passed and nothing wM done to
put them down, the congregated mnltitnde of
ironrae grew more audacious, and proceeded to
wone ontragea. From spoiling the gentry of their
goods, they proceeded to seize their persons, and
to carry them off jHieonera to their camp. "To
conclade,''Bayathechronicler, "they grew to aueh
unmeoanrable disorder, [hat they wonld not in
niauy things obey neither their general captain,
nor any of their govemora, but ran headliMig into
all kind of mischief ; and made anch spoil of vie-
tnals which they brought out of the country ad-
joining unto their camp, that within few days they
coneumed (beaidea grnit number of beeves) 20,000
muttons, also awans, geese, hens, capona, ducka,
and other fowla, so many aa they might lay hands
upon. And, furtimmore, they apared not to
break into parks, and ItiU what deer they couM."
Meanwhile, the government stood by, and for the
apace of nearly a month allowed the insurreetion
to grow and proeper undigtnrbed. At lost, on
the 31st of July, a herald came from the council
to the rebel camp, "and proDoonoed there, before
all the multitude, with loud voice, a free pardon
to all that wonld dopart to their homea, and
laying aside their armour, give over their trai-
torous bc^n anterpriae.' But the only effect of
his ofiar aoMna to have been to draw off eoma of
the better sort, who had only joined the mob
from compulsion or fear, and who nowaaw some
prospect of being ptntected by the government.
Ket himself, and the great maia of hia followers,
kept th^r attitude of defiance, or at least of re-
fusal to submit, declaring that they needed no

pardon, since they had done notlung bnt whst
belonged to the dn^of true aubjecta. Theyerea
fiKiced their way into the city of Norwich, and
carried off to their camp all the guns, artillery,
and anuunnition th^ could find in it. When
tlie herald roade another procUnwtioQ at the mar-
ket-irface there, repeating the former cAcr, but
thr«atening death to all who shoold not ioinu-
diately acoefrt the king's pardon, they bade him
get him thence with a mischief ; for they made
no acGomt of such mannw ot mercy. After tbic^
every day aweUed the number of KetfafoUowen,
The herald'a report convinced Somerset and tha
council that they would never put down the nhel-
lion by proclamationa; and then, at laat, it waa
resolved to send against the Norfolk tanner a
force of fifteen hundred borse under the Uarqaii
of Northampton, together with "a small band ai
It«lianB (also mount«d), under the leading ot i
captain named Halateata.' The morqaiE took
up hia quarters in the town of Norwich, whidi,
in the first instance, he aucceeded in clearing of
the rebels; but the next day they forced tbnr way
back, drove out the king's troops, killing tiie
Lord Sheffield and many other gentlemen, ss well
BB taking many others priacmersi and fiaisbed
their exploit hj plundering and aetttng fire to
the city. Northampton, with the remnant of hit
beaten force, made all haste to London. It wh
now seen by the council tiiat the buaineH mnat
be aet about in another fashion : an army of
about 6000 man waa in readineae to serve in tbs
war in the north: and "heranpon that noble
chieftain and valiant Earl of Warwick, Istdy
before ^pointed to have gone againat the Scot*
and Frenchmen into Scotland, was called back
and commanded to take upon him the condno-
tion of thia army against the Norfolk rebala."'
Warwick with some difficulty forced liis way into
Norwich; but the incessant attacks of therebel«,
and in part also, aa it afaould appear, his insuffi-
cient supplies of ammunition, had made hia posi-
tion almost desperate, when he waa relieved bv
the arrival, on the £6th of August, of a relnforn-
ment of 1400 lansquenets. Tha next day he
marched out, and falling upon the enemy, who ba<!
descended from the hill, and were encamped in
a valley called Bnseingdale, he had the fortune to
achieve an easy and decisive victory. The rebels,
at the firat charge of the king's horse, tumetl
round and fled, Eet, their great captain, or king,
as he called himself, being, according to the chro>
nicler, one of the foremost, and galloping away as
fast aa his horse wonld bear him. The chief
slaughter waa in the pursuit, which waa continued
for three or four milea; the scveial elustera of

»Google

X 1M9-1M3.1

EDWASD TI.

3}

g multitude, u the; were snoce*-
■ivelj oTBTtakeo, were eboni down in heapk. It
was reckoned thftt the niunber of dead bodies left
OD the ground exceeded 3A0O. This bloodj dftj-
pot an end to the rebeUion. Ket,abaiidoiung or
deeeriwl by all hie late foUowen and subjeota,
was the next dM.y found concealed in a bani, and
forthwith brought to Norwich. The ezacotiona
wen not nnmennu; nine of the ringleaders were
hanged upon the nine twsnchee of the "Oak of
Befonnation;" a few otlien were drawn, hanged,
and qnutered, and their heads and limbs set up
in different parts of the kiogdom; and Ket him-
wlf and his brother William, after bdng carried
to London and ivneiffiied to the Tower, where
diey were arraigned and found guilty of treaaon,
wen aent back to Norfolk, and there hung in
cbaina— the one on the top of Norwich Castle,
the other on Windham ateeple.

In the north alao, a* well as in the eaatand the
weet, the same i^iirit of insniTeetion tsoke ont
amot^ the people, bat thrar riaing vae checked
before it became general by the apprehension ot
their leaders, and hj the discouraging fiulure of
the similar attempts made in other quarters of
the kingdom; for the Yorlubire men were some-
what later in stirring than their countrrmen in
Devonshire and Norfolk. In Yorkahite the spirit
of attsehment to the old religion, wliich animated
the people of Devon and Cornwall, aeems to have
been combined with the same levelling notions
that formed the principal incentive to the rebel-
lion in Norfolk and Suffolk. O^e Yorkshire
iDsur^genta had assembled in foree to the number
of above 3000 men, and had committed some mur-
ders and other grievoue outmgee, before thej
were pot down and dispersed.

A revolt of the tabonring against the wealthier
claasea was probably never attempted in aiij
eoantry in circumstances appar^itlj more favour-
able for Its anocess than thoae which the present
state of England presented. The king was a
minor, and the government a singularly weak
one; the country was entangled in a foreign war,
u well as torn by internal factions ; economical
diCGcnltiea added to the embamssment ot new
uid iraperfecUy settled institutions; all things
nn the side of authority, in short, were unusually
exposed and enervated ; on the other side there
was all the sli^ngtli, if not of real grievances, of
what was the same thing, deep-seated feelings of
diiwalisf action and resentment, uid, if not of
actual combination, at least of simultaneous ac-
tion, sod of a diftuion of the inimreetionary
■pint which, in respect of the masa of the com-
menal^, might Im called national or univeraaL
There was also much •ympathy on the part of a
large portion of Uie mt of the nation with oi
the principal SDttaining elements of the in

rection — the aversion to the innovations in reli-
gion; and, indeed, upon this eommoa ground a
eoneiderahle number of parsons of the wealthier
CT more educated cksson, lauded proprietors, and
Fopiah priests, met and joined the insurgent la-
iMoreis, and became their counsellors and leaden.
That with all these advantages the attempt should
have nevertheless so signally failed — been, not
without some trouble, indeed, but yet so speedily
and so completely put down — affords an impressive
lesson of the hopelessness, in almost any circum-
stances, of a contest of force waged by the class
whose only strength is its numbers againiit the
dasaes wiehiiog the property, the intelligence,
and the established authofity of a. country.

All this time the war had continued to be car-
ried on in Scotland, though with little activity
on either Bide,and no very important results; for
the English government was too much occupied
with the disturbed state of afikirs at liome to be
able to strike any great blow; and, on the other
hand, a considerable falling off had taken place
in the cordiality of the Scots and their French
allies, as well as in the interest which the French
king had in pushing operations with any extrsr
ordinary vigour. Henry had attained his main
object for the present by getting the infant queeu
into his hands ; and, at the same time, her de-
parture could hardly fail in some degree to open
the eyes of hersubjects to considerations to which
the impetuosity of their feelings had till now
blinded them, and to awaken some reflections
not of a kind to pai them in very good humour,
either with their insinuating and dexterous allies
or with themselves. Both the nation and the
government now began to complain loudly of the
insolence of DTsse and hie soldiers; nor did their
mutual dislike vent itelf merely in words. A
short time before the French commander'B last
uniucceasful attempt upon Haddington, a most
serious fray had happened between some of his
men and the cititens of Edinburgh, ia which the
provoet, or chief magistrate, and bis son, and a
considerable number more of the inhabitants,
men, women, and children, were killed in the
streets by the foreigners.' Towards the end of
the year 1548 some English ships arrived in the
Forth, and took and fortified the small isle of
Inchkeith, but it waa gallantly attacked and reco-
vered by the French, after they bad held it only
sixteen days The English were also driven out
of Jedbui^b ; the castles of Hume and Femihurst
were retaken; and the flench made an inroad
across the Borders, from which they returned with
SOOprisonersaodagreAtqaautityof booty. Theae
successes, hoverer, did not make I^Esse more
popular with the Scots. According to Burnet, "the
queen-mother and the governor had made great

»Google

3!

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[a„

AHD UlUTUT.

compUnte of him »t the eonrt of fYance, thai he
pot Ae lutiofl to vast charge to little pnrpoae, so
that he woe more tuisbbj to hia friends tb*ii his
eoemiee; and hia last disorder tt Edinburgh had,
on the one hand, bo taiaed the insolence of the
French eoldiers, and, on the other huid, so alien-
Kted and inflamed the people, that unleee another
vere sent to eomntaod, who shonld gOTem more
i&ildl7,*there might be great danger of a defection
of the whole kingdom." In consequence, CEne
waa recalled, and the command of the French
forces in Scotland given to Marehal Termes.' In
the conne of the present year (1549) the Scots re-
covered, bj force of arms, both Fast Castle, in the
aoiitl),and the more important fortress of Broughtj
Castle, in the north. Haddington was once more
plentifully supplied with proviaiona bj the £arl
of Batland, newl; appointed one of the wardens
of the marches in the room of Lord Om; ; bnt it
waa, notwithstanding, eventually found neces-
sary to evacuate that town.* Before this war
against England had been declared by the French
king, he had already led an army into the Bou-
lognoia, and with little difficulty made hiuuelf
master of the forte of Selaques, Ambleteuse,
Newcastle, Blackness, and otbere there. He after-
wards sat down before Boulogne ; and though the
breaking out of the plague in the camp slackened
their operaUons, and the coming on of winter
finally induced them to raise the siege, the French
succeeded in completely shutting np the English
within the town ; and as they had in their hands
all the neighbouring forta, there could be little
doubt that the place would fall as soon aa the
season should permit it to be reinvested.

For some time past, since the acheme of the
Scottish marriage was become impracticable, the
protector had been desirous to make peace both
with Scotland and France, and he waa now will-
ing to agree to Hurrender Boulogne to Henry for
a sam of money, in order to facilitate that ar-
rangement. It ia probable that the last-men-
tioned measure, however really wise and prudent,
would not have had the national voice in its
favour; at any rate, Ebmerset, in this instauce,
yielded to the repreaentations of the conncii,
who unanimously remonstrated against the pro-
posal as h«nght with the deepest dishonour, tjieir
conaciousnesa of having the popular feeling on
their side having apparently emboldened them
to aasume a more spirited tone than usual.

The storm waa now fast gathering around the
head of the protector which was to throw him to
the ground. The seriee of military losses and
unancceaaful operatioua in Scotland and France

< BiuiUnig hji U»t CEaa nqiiBtol Imts of Ihi king to

nused a mass of dissatisfaction. Ss. manage-
ment of public a&in, indeed, in everything ex-
cept in the advanoement of the alterations in ro-
ligion — and there nothing had yet been secorel]'
settled, and whatever had been done, or attemp-
ted, was, to a great part of the nation, the very
reverse of acceptable— had been, from the begio-
ning, little else tium a continued eonrae <)f hlou-
dering and miafortune. H disaster and disgrace
had attended the national arms abroad, at home
the kingdom had been involved in all the confu-
sion and misery of civil war. Even the reputa-
tion that was to be gained in the contest of una
with the rebels he had left to be gatheted bj
others—and of all others by the very man by
whose military talents he had already acanelT
escaped from being outshone on the only ocomon
he had had of diatingniahing himself in that way
since he had been placed at the head of aAira
From the moment of the suppreasion of tiie re-
bellion, the protector had almost an avowed rival
and competitor for the supreme power in the
Earl of Warwick. Warwick'a instigator, sgaiu,
ia affirmed by Burnet to have been the ei-ebsn-
cellor Southampton, who, although brought back,
aa we have seen, into the council, "had notj'saji
the right reverend historian, "laid down his se-
cret hatred of the protector, but did all he aoDld
to make a party against him." In other quarten,
the wily ex-chancellor, from a memory tUmi
with personal and party injuries, would brinj(
out, to undermine hia old enemy, each dubiona
or discreditable- passage of bis cueer, as suited
the occasion, or tiie temper and poeitlon of the
parties he addressed. Above all, to the gene-
rality, and to thoee even whose interests attached
them to the maintenance of the protector^ autho-
rity, he would appeal with the blood-curdling
question, What friendship, when his ambition
stood in the way, could any expect from a man
who had no pity on his own brothart The old
nobility had hated Somerset from the firat, aa an
upstart, and as one who laboured to bnild hii
^[reatness on their depression, and on the general
Bubveraion of the ancient order of things with
which they were identified. Bat the arrogance
with which he bad borne himself dlagusted msnj
others, as well aa thoae belonging to this claM,
with whom he had come in contact, and msde
him bitter and powerful enemies on all honds-
The very men who had diiefly aided in making
him what he waa, finding their services requited
only with hia endeavours to kick down the {xo^a
upon which he had risen, had, for the moat port,
in their hearts, if not openly, fallen ofi' from him ;
and even in the council there was scarcely a mem-
ber upon whoee attachment he could count, ex-
cept his friends Paget and Cranmer. Nor barf
his late conduct eveu advanced him in the r^ptrd

»Google

».D. 1549— 1M3.J

EDWARD VI.

a he liad alwn^s

of the mnltitude, whoae
shown himaelf so anziou:
darling popnlaritf mnat have snfibred no little
diminntion by the state to which the aSkirs of
the kingdom had been brought l^ hii adminift-
tration both at home and abroad. Then his as-
Bomption and rapacity were every day becoming
more inordinate and glaring, and had now reached
a height that shocked the public senee of decency
OB well as of justice. Bnmet admits that "many
btshope and catfaedmla had resigned many manors
to him for obtiuning his favour.' He had got a
patent, it seemi, authorizing him to take posaes-
eion of such church lands, on pretence of reward-
ing him for his services in the Scottish war — in
which patent, by the by, drawn up of course by
his own directions, the vain man had caused him-
aelf to be styled "Dnke of Somerset 6y the ffraee
of Ood'm if he had been a sovereign prince. It
was also said, Bomet tells ns, that many of the
chantiy lands bnd been sold to his friends at easy
rates, for which it was concluded he had great
presents. But the most obtrusive exhibition he
made at once of his vanity and of his grasping
and nnscmpulons practice of appropriation, was
in the erection of a new palace for himself in
London— the same that has bequeathed his name
to the preaent Somerset House, in the Strand,

UOHKBSET PLACt, froRi tlw BJ'CT. — TrciD ■ print 1

which stands on the site that it occupied. Not
uuly did the rise of this vast and splendid pile
expose its owner to tbe reflection, "that when the
kiiig was engaged in such wars, and when Lon-
dun was mnch disordered by the plague that had
been in it for some months, he was then bringing
trehitecta frtMU Italy, and designing such a palace
■•had not been seen in England ;"' men's indig-

[..II.

nation was eicited by many arbitrary exertions
of power, in violation both of putflic and of pri-
vate rights, to which he did not hesitate to resort
in rearing this superb monument of his greatness.
Besides compelling three bishops to enrrender to
him their episcopal mansions, he had removed
altogether a parish church which stood in the
way of his plans, and had not only pulled down
many other religious buildings in the neighbour-
hood for the sake of their materials, but had,
with barbarous recklessness, defaced and broken
to pieces the ancient monuments they contained,
and even irreverently removed and scattered the
bones of the dead. It was impossible that such
proceedings should not expose the protector's Pro-
teatanUsm to the impntation of being at least ss
profitable as it was consdenttons.

During all the month of September (1549)
there were great heats in the councili tbe enemies
of the protector now no longer shrunk from
speaking out, and avowing their determination
to strip him oE bis exorbitant power. By the
beginning of October the quarrel had arisen al-
most to a contest of arms. "The council,' says
the graphic account given by the king in hi?
journal, "about nineteen of them, were gathered
in London, thinking to meet with the lord-pro-
tector, and to make him amend some of his dis-
orders. He, fearing his state,
caused the secretary, in my
name, to be sent (from
Hampton Court, where Ed-
ward then was, along with
Somerset, Cranmer, and Pb-
get) to the lords (of the coun-
cil in London), to know from
what cause they gathered
tlieir powers together; and
if they meant to talk with
him, that they should come
in a peaceable manner. The
next morning, being the 6th
of Octeber, and Saturday, he
commanded tbe armonr to
be brought down out of the
armoury of Hampton Court
— about 500 hamesBPfl, to
arm both hia and my men,
•J RoUar. with all the gates of the iiouse

to be rampiredj people to be
raised: people came abundantly to the house."
While the protector was making these prepara-
tions at Hampton Court, Warwick and the other
lords of the council were assembled at Ely Place,
in London, from which they despatched orders
for the attendance of the lieutenant of the Tower,
and of the lonl-mayor and aldermen, all of whom
appeared and consented to submit to their orders.
They also wrote to the nobility and gentry iu

Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

(Qv:

. a>dUiut4rt.

tlie diffureiit parts of tlie kingdom, infonuiug
thorn of their designs audmolivea. "Tbatuigbt,'
continuea the king, "with all the people, at oiae
or teu of tlie clock of the aight, I went to Wind-
sor, and there was watch and ward kept every
night." Iq point of fact, Edward waa carried to
Windsor hj his uncle, with an escort of 500 men,
boUi Cranmer aud Paget accompanying tbem.
Somerset's first impulse was to set his enemies at
defiance; besides eurronndiag himself with an
armed force, aa here related, and securing the
king's person, before leaving Ham.pton Court he
wrote to his friend Lord Ruasetl, who was still
in the west country, calling upon him to hasten
to the defence of the king's majesty in his castle
of Windsor.' But this bold resolution speedily
evaporated ; the next day be wrote to the council
at London, informing them, that, provided they
intended no hurt to the kia^a majesty's person,
touching all other private matters they would
find him disposed to agree to any reaaooable con-
ditions they might require. The cooncil most
have seen from this bumble— almost suppliant —
communication that the late dictator lay at their
feet. They took no notice of his propaaal for
an accommodation, but, proceeding to the lord-
mayor's house, there drew op and forthwith pub-
lished a proclamation, in which, after enumerat-
ing their several grounds of dissatisfaction with
the " malicious and evil government " of the lord-
protector^the lat« sedition of which he had been
the occasion— the losses in France — bis ambition
and seeking of his own glory, "as appeared by
his building of moat sumptuous and costly build-
' ings, and specially in the time of the king's wars,
and the king's soldieiv unpaid" — his having held
in no esteem "the grave counsel of tbe c
selloi-B* — bis having sown sedition between the
nobles, the gentlemen, and the commons — and hia
having slandered the council to the king, and
done what in him lay to cause variance between
the king and his nobles — they declared hii
be "a great traitor," and therefore "desired tbe
city and commons to aid tbem to take him from
the king." The next day, the 8th, they went
the QnUdhall, where tbe common-council being
assembled, and having listened to a narrative of
alt that had been done, "declared they thanked
God for tiie good intentions they had expressed,
and assured tbem they would stand by them with
their lives and goods."' Meanwhile, Somerset,
quailing under the prospect that was becomi
darker every hour, had made another effort
save bimseU by a private appeal to his great rival
Warwick, whom he reminded of the friendship
of their early days, aud of tbe favours he had

■ a»(bg IMhr, wnli U» Lend BonU^ BiHwhu UDMgQon
at on ths irtwl* illHaanii>V. ">'*•'■ <B fo' ud OWiiuitHt.
' Durnvt, ttoa MiniiUt ^ fA< CVniui/.

conferred upon himi but Warwick was unl
tbe man to be drawn off from his object hy such
sentimentalities. At length, finding all negotia-
,ion hopeless, he consented that a warrant shonld
be sent to Loudon, under tbe king's band, invil-
ing the council to come to Windsor. On the 12th
of October, accordingly, tbe whole of tiie lorde,
twenty-two in number, repaired thither; ou
the 13th they assembled in council, and examined
Secretary Smith aud others of Somenet'i sd.
herenta or servants, who, as well as himself, had
been previously placed under arrest; ou the 14lh
the protector was called before them, when Uu
treasons and misdemeanours with which hs wm
charged were formally eihibited to him dnwn
up in no fewer than twenty-eight articles i and
on the same day bis royal nephew was conveyed
back to Hampton Court, and he himself was sent
to the Tower under tbe conduct of the Earla of
Sussex and Huntingdon.

This revolution at once placed the gDvenuiKnt
in the hands of Warwick, with almost the saint
substantial power that bad been wielded by tbe
overthrown protector. For a moment South-
ampton hoped to share tiie supreme authority
with the new lord of the ascendant, whose rise
be had so materially assisted — perhaps to con-
tinue to direct him as \ai» protegi, or instrument:
and the Popish party eagerly expected tbata largp
share in the management of affairs would fall
into the hands of one whose attachment to that
interest was secured both by the pertinacity of
bis temper and by the whole course of his life,
which had so conspicuously identified him villi
ite maintenance and championahip. But tbe dmo
of intrigue proved no match, in the circnmstoncea
in which Uiey were now placed, for the man of
tbe sword ; Southampton was not even restorol
his former office of chancellor; he and War-
1 became wholly alienated from each
other; be was removed from the council in the
beginning of the foUowiug year, and soon after
died, either of mere vexation and disappoiDtmeiit,
or, as it was repoi-ted, having terminated his
existence by poison. Warwick, too, was held to
be inclined in bis heart to the old religion; but
he had no principles upon this or any other sub-
ject that be would allow for a moment to stand
in tbe way of the interesta of his ambition, sod
be very soon not only wholly forsook the Popish
party, but took up a profession of zeal for former
ecclesiastical changes that outran the views uf
most Protestants.

Tbe pai-liament re-ossembled on the 41ii of
November; and, before the end of the year, sets
were passed for the prevention of unlawful as-
semblies; against prophecies concerning tbe king
or his council; aud for repealing the late law i<u
the subject of vsgabonds, which luul been fouud

,v Google

\ 1M&— ise3.]

EDWABD VI.

35

too «BVere to be cairied into effect. It was not
tUI t)ie 9d of Janouy, ISfiO, that the case of the
Itak» of Someiaet waa broagfat forward, bj a bill
of paioa oad penaltiea being read for the first
time agaiuBt him in the House of Lords, the alle-
gttion* in which, being the aame twenty-eight
Krticles on which he wae cotuigned to the Tower,
were snpportcd hj a confession, ugnad with his
own hand, which he had made on his kneea before
the king and the council on the preceding 13th
at December. He bad submitted to this humi-
liatiou, it seems, on an assonuice being given to
him that be should be gentl; dealt with if he
wonld aubmit himself to the king's mere;. The
bill, which inflicted depriTabon of all his offices,
and forfmtnre (tf all his personal propert j, and of
X^OOO a year of his revenue from his lands, passed
both houses without opposition. He remou-
stiated against the beavy amount of the fine ;
but, on receiving a harsh reply from the conncil,
be ibmnk back immediately to an attitude of the
bam blest submission, and expressed his thankfal-
iidas to them and the king that they had been
content with merely fining him, when they might
have juatly taken his life. On the Sth of Feb-
ruarf be was released from the Tower; and on
the Ifith of the same month be received a par-
don. " After that,' says Burnet, " he cairied
himself so humbly, that hia behaviour, with the
king's great kindness to him, did so far prevail,
that on the lOth of April after he was restored
into faToor, and sworn of the privy council."

Immediately after the rising (^ parliament, the
appointments of great master of the household
and lord high-admiral were conferred upon War-
wick; and the Lords Russell and St. John ware
created Earls of Bedford and WiLtehire, and ad-
ranoed to the offices, the first of lord privy-seal,
the second of lord -treasurer. la the end of
March, after some weeks of negotiation, a peace
sas concluded both with France and Scotland;
the principftl condition of which was the snnen-
<ler to France of Boulogne— that measure which,
when proposed by the late lord -protector, Uie
same members of the council who now assented
to It had exclaimed against as the consummation
of national disgrace. All that was demanded in
return for this concession by England was a
payment of 200,000 crowns at the time of the
delivery of the town, and of as much more iu five
months after, nnder Uie name of a compensation
for the coat of keeping up the fortifications while
it had been in the possession of this country.
The late FneiiGh king had, in 1S46, agreed to give
Henry VIIL a,OOO,OO0 crowns for the surren-
der of Boulf^ne at the expiration of eight years.
The peoaioa which Francis had bound himself
to pay to Henry said his successors, with ita ar.
t«aT^ «nM alau now given up. In truth, how.

, the discredit of this treat;, though it was
concluded by the present, belongs to the former
government; for peace upon almost any terms
had been rendered absolutely necessary by the
losses already incurred, and the exhausted state
to which the financee of the kingdom weie re-
duced.

le remainder of this and the eerty part of
the following year were principally occupied wtth
the affairs of religion and of the church. Although
ao Catholic was burned in this reign, the horrid
immolation of nienand of wo Jien for their opinions
io religion, was not altogether laid aside. The
Sd of May this jear witnessed the execution at
Smithfield, by the customary mode of death allot-
ted for heretics, of a female named Joan Boeber,'
or Joan of Eeut. Joan, who appeuv to have
been a person of some education, and of a re-
spectable rank iu life, had been apprehended
more than a year before for holding and dissemi-
nating certain peculiar notions about the incar-
catdou of Christ, to the effect, as far as the expres-
sions attributed to her are intelligible, that his
body was not really, but only apparently of hu-
man flesh. Being brought before a oommisBion
appointed to examine and search aft«r all Ana-
baptists and oliier heretics and contemners of the
Common Prayer, of which Cranmw was the
head, she rejected all their persuasions to recant
her opinions; and was thereupon condemned as
an obstinate heretic, and delivered over to the
secular power. The young king, however, with
the onperverted feeling natural to bis years,
shrunk from signing the warrant for burning
her, on which Cranmer was appointed to reason
hitn out of his scruples; but all the elaborate
arguments of the archbishop failed to satisfy him;
and although he at last consented, with tears in
his eyes, to set his hand to the paper, be lold
Cnnmer that, if the act was wrong, it was he
(Cranmer) who must answer for it to God, since
it was done only in submission to his authority.
It is supposed that, struck with some uncomfort-
able feelings by this solemn admonition, Cran-
mer wonld gladly have escaped from the execu-
tion of the sentence; and both he and Ridley
took great pains to prevail upon Joan to save
her life by abjuration. But the enthusiast, court-
ing martyrdom, treated all their exhortations
with contempt; and she was at last consigned to
the flames. About a year after Ififh April, 15fil),
another heretic was burned in the same place — a
I>utchman, named Von Paris, who resided in Lon-
don in the practice of his profession of a surgeon;
hiacr'me was the denial of the divinity of Christ.
He underwent his death with great firmness.
Burnet admits tiiat no port of Cranmet's life ex-
posed him to mot« obloquy than the part he to<dc

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil ahd HiLiTAtiT.

iaUiesAexecations: "it wsaaaidhehadcoiiaeated
both to lAmbert's and Anne AakeVa death in
the former reign, who botli Buffered for opinions
which he himself held now; and he had lunr pro-
cured the death of these two peraonii ; and vhea
he woa brought to sufier himself afterirarda, it
was called a just retaliation on him."

In August, 1049, Bonner, Bishop of London,
won aummoued before the oouncil, and after being
aliarply reprimanded for hia contumacr, wai
rected to preach at Paul's Croes on the 1st of
September, tliat be might give proof of hia or-
thodoxy and Bubmiseion to the estBhliahed order
of thiugs both in church aud state. Hia sermon
did not give satisfaction: beiag appointed to ap-
pear befui-a Cranmer, Ridley, and others, to an-
swer for what he had aaid, or had omitted to say,
be conducted hioiaelf with extraordinaiy bold-
ness, aud, indeed, set hhi judges at defiance ; and
the affair ended bj senteuce of deprivation being
prouuuuced upon him, and his being conaigued
to the Maisliabea, where he remained a prisouer
throughout the remainder of this reign. In
Api-il, 16C0, the vacant see of London was filled
bj the transference of Ridley from Bocheater.
The council next proceeded to deal with the
cases of three other recusant bishops who lay
imprisoned in the Tower— Oatdiuar of Winches-
ter, Heatb of Worcester, and Day of Chichester,
nil of whom refused te make submission, and
were eventually deprived, and remanded into
confinement, as Bonner had been, in the course
of this and the two following years. In moat of
the re-orrangements that took place in conse-
quence of these ejecUous, tlie opportunity was
takt^u of obtaining something more from the
wealth of the church for the members of the
government and their frieuds. Thus, when Rid-
ley went to London, the lately established
bishopric of Weetminster was suppressed; its re-
venues, amounting t«> £BM, were made over to
the see of Loudon, with the exception of rents to
the amount of £\.<M reserved by the king; aud
ths lands which had hitherto belonged to the
latter see, yielding a rent of ^480, were imme-
diately granted to certain of the king's wiuiaters
aud officers of the household : Lord Wenlworth,
the chamberlain, had £-2i5; Sir Thonias Darcy,
the vice-chamberlnin, il9-t; and Hich, the chaji-
cellor, £39.'

One of the new episcopal appointments occa-
sioned for some time no little trouble aud dispu-
tation— that of the celebrated preacher John
Hooper, afterwards the illustrious martyr, to the
see of Qloncester, to which he was nominated in
July, ISCO. Hooper, however, who had im-
tabed from an int«rcouree with certain Calvinis-
tio and other foreign divines, a predilection for

' atiTpc Eedit. Utm. U. 3M.

those views in religion, afterwards known by the
name of Puritanism, at first obstinately mfniol
to receive consecration in the canonical habits ;
nor could all the logic and eloquence of Cianmer
and Ridley, nor even the persuasion of hia friendi
Bucer and Peter Martyr, who in great put
shared his awn peculiar opinions, tor a loDg
time induce him to yield the poinL At list, ie
January, Ififil, he was, by royal warrant, com.
mitted for his contumacy to the Fleet ; and hen
he lay tdU he consented to the compromiss that
he should be attired in the prescribed vcstmenti
at his ordination, aud when he preached before
the king, or in his cathedral, or in any publii;
place, but should be excused from wearing them
upon other occasions. On these oonditioiis he
was consecrated bishop.

Another alftur that considerably embamiMil
the government, was the contumacy of the ladv
Mary, the kin^a eldest sister, and the heiresa
presumptive to the crowu. Soon after the com-
mencement of the present reign this princew hail
written te Somerset, expressing her opinion thxt
all further changes in religion, till her brother
should be of age, were contrary to the respect he
and his colleagues in thegovenunentowedtothe
memory of the late king, and could only have the
effect of endangering the public peace. In replj,
the protector addressed a long and earnest ex-
hortation to her, in which he iiA.iniated that he
believed her letter had not proceeded from her-
self.' After the passing of the statute for ant-
formity of worship, Maiy was informed by the
council (in June, 1M9) that her chaplmns conld
no longer besuffered to perform mass even in her
private chapel ; but after some controversy, ou
the interposition of her nude theemperor, whose
assistauce the goverumeut was at this time aali-
citiug, it was agreed that the new lawsbould not
be enforced in her case, at least for the preseut
The agitation of the subject, however, was re-
newed after the conclusion of the peace witb
France. All the applicatioua of the emperor's
ambassadors, iu favour of hia niece, were for
many months met by the goverumeut with a
peremptory refusal. It was then rumunred tliat
she designed to quit the kingdom, on which, in
August, lOW), a tteet was aent to aea te prevent
her escape. In December following two of licr
chaplains were indicted. At last, in March, 1^1,
she appeared personally befoi-e the council, when
her royal brother himself brought all hia atorca
of theological learning and jxiwers of reaaoniog
to bear upon ber obstinacy ; but still her resolu-
tion remuned unshaken. The next day (lUtii
March) the imperial ambassadordelivaredaine*-
sage from hia master, thatif thereqaestediudul-
gence should not be granted to the priueeas, the

,v Google

>. 1049— ISfiS.)

EDWARD VL

emperor would immediately' declare war. This
iutinution staggered the council, and at tlie
ment do aiiaver waa returDsd. But, on the fol-
lowing day (die SOth), Ctanioer, along with Rid-
lej and Fojnet, bsTing come to the king, and, as
be tella ua in hia journal, declared it to be their
opinion that, thoogh to give license to ein was
siu, yet to suffer and winli at it for a time was
excusable, Edward was persuaded to give way:
"jet not so eaaitf ,' saja Burnet, "but that he
buret forth in teaia, lamenting hia aiater'a obati-
nitcy, and that he must snfTer her to continue in
so abomiuaible a way of worship as he e«(«enied
the mass.' The attempts to induce the priuceaa
to oonfonn were soon renewed. In August fol-
lowing the chief otBcera of her household were
commanded to prevent ttie use of the Romish
service in her family, and on their refusal to com-
ply were committed to the Tower. Af t«r that
the iord-cltancellor and others of the chief mem-
benof the coondl were sent to hold a conference
with her on the subject at her residence of Copt-
liall, in Eosei; but she continued, as before, im-
moveable.

Since his liberation in February, ISW, the late
lord-protector, though stripped of wealth as well
na of power, had been restored to Ba much of court
fuvuur aa his uephew could venture to show him
under the rule of the new dictator. Warwick
probably calculated that iu reducing him to con-
tempt be had effected his political oxUnction not
ksa completely than if he had taken his life; and
be appears also to have hoped that, after having
thus kicked the duke down, he might even be
able to make out of one so newly related to the
crown a useful prop of hie own rising fortunes.
An apparently complete reconcilement accord-
ingly took pUce between the two; and on the 3d
of June the Lord lisle, the Eurl of Warwick's
eldest SOD, was married at Richmond, in the pre-
sence of the king, to the lady Ann, one of the
daughters of the Duke of Somerset.' It was im-
IKwaible, howeyer, that the fallen lord-protector
luid the man who had supplanted him could ever
cease to be rivals and enemies at heart so long as
either lived. It appears that before the expira-
tion of this same year Somerset had begun to
take secret measures for recovering hia former
'.ffice. Under the date of the 16th of February,
1551, the king's jonmal states that a persou
named Wbaley " was examined for persuading
'livers nobles of the re^lm to make the Duke of

■IB, Sir nstnrt DodliT. ■Avwudi tha haxnii Eirt Df
wKBiuiladtatbgiUiiibMrafaiTJaliBllablut; "il
URlSf^' mjttba mtrj la tb* ktnc^Jouiul, "tl
mUiiiKiiUmaUiatdldatilTawhoAiniUant UI

Somerset protector at the next parliament, and
stood to the denial, the Earl of Rutland affirming
it manifestly." On this investigation being in-
stituted, Somerset's friend, Lord Gray, hastily
took hia departure for the north, probably widi
the design of making a stand there; and the
duke himself was making ready to follow him,
when he was stopped by being assured that no
injury was intended to him, and the matter was
allowed to drop. In a month or two after, how-
ever, Warwick was made uneasy by the rep(nl
of the duke being engaged in new tutrigues.
Bumet admits that Somerset " seemed to have
deugoed, in April this year, to have got the king
again in his power, and dealt with the Lord
Strange, that was much in his (the king's) favour,
to persuade him to marry his daughter Joue."
But the gathering storm was again dispersed for
the present by the formality of a fresh reconcile-
ment betireen the two parties. In Uay followinir
the Harquis of Northampton was sent aa amba)i>
sador to Paris to demand for Edward the hand
of Benry's daughter Elisabeth ; this propoaal was
immediately assented to by the F^ch king;
after some negotiation it waa settled tiiat the por-
tion of the princess should be 800,000 avwne
(which waa only about a tenth part of what tike
English commissioners had asked in the £rvt
inatance), and that ^e should be sent over, "at
ber father's charge, three months before she was
twelve, sufficiently jewelled and stuffed."*

In the folbwing September Warwick procured
fw himself the important post of warden of the
Scottish marches^ which enabled him to take
effective measuresfor cuttingofTSomerset^ retreat
to the north, in case matters abould again come to
such a pass between tiiem aa to drive hia adver-
saty into open revolt; and in the beginning of
October he got himself created Duke of Northum-
berland, hia friends and dependants, the Marquis
of Dorset, the Earl of Wiltshire, and Sir William
Herbert, being at the same time made respec-
tively Duke of Suffolk, Marquis of Winchester,

id Earl of Pembroke. Five days after the an-
nouncement of these new honours, namely, on
Friday the lethof October, the capital was startled
with the sudden intelligeuce of the arrest of the
Duke of Somerset, on a charge of conspiracy and
high treason, and hia committal to the Tower.
rss seized in the afternoon while on his way
to the court at Westminster; Lord Gray and
ithers of his friends were apprehended the same
day; and tbe day after, the duchess, some of her
female attendants, and a number of other per-
ins, were all made prisoners.

Such of the persons apprehended aa were will-
ing to give evidence wer« now called before the
council and examined. Among these, according

• KinCiJoonil.

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

fClTlL AKnMlLlTUT.

In the king's journal, Palmsr repeated at least ao
much of the story of the duke'i accuaera as related
to a plot tor a revolt in London. If the attempt
upon the gendarmerie, who were to be fallen
upon and killed at the first rising of the iniiui^
reclJOD, had failed, the duke, according to the
witness, was to "run through London and crj
'Liberty! liberty I 'to raise the apprentices and
mbble ; if he could he would go to the Isle of
Wight, or to Poole." On the 26th, "Crane," says
the king, "confessed the moet part, even aa
'Palmer did before, and more alao, how that the
plaoe where the nobles should have been ban-
queted, and their heads stricken of^ was the
Lord Paget'a house. . . . Hammond also con-
fessed the watch he (the duke) kept in his cham-
ber at uight. Bren also confessed mnch of this
matter. The Lord Strange confessed how the
duke willed him to stir me to marry his third
daughter, the Lady Jane, and willed him to be his
■py in all matters of my doings and sayings, and
to know when some of my council spoke secretly
with me ; thia be confe^ed of himself." How
these depositions were procured we have no ac-
count; the king does not appear to speak of them
as being taken in bia presence, but rather as
merely reported to him by the council. Mean-
while everything possible waa done by the go-
vernment to excite a strong feeling of public
alarm. On the 17th "there were letters sent to
all emperors, kings, ambasaadora, nobleman, men,
and chief meu, into countries of the lat« conspi-
racy:"' and on the 22d, all the crafts and cor-
porationa of the dty were informed by a message
from the king that the Duke of Somerset would
have taken the Tower, seized on the liroad seal,
and destroyed the city, and were charged care-
fully to ward the several gates, and to appoint
watehes to patrol all the streets.

The indictment charging Somerset with hav-
ing traitorously designed to seize on the king's
person, and assume the entire government of
the realm — with having, along with a hundred
otheiB, intended to have imprisoned the Earl of
Warwick — and with having conspired to mise
an insurrection in the city of London, was found
by thegrand jury at Guildhall; on which twenty-
seven peers were summoned to sit as a court for
bia trial in Weetmicster Hall — the Marquis of
Winchester, the lord-treasurer, being appointed
lord high-steward. The trial took place on the
Ist of December. Except only that an oppor-
tunity was given to the priaoner of making a
public defence, it was scarcely characterized by
any greater justice or faimesa than had been
meted out hy the duke to his own brother. His
judges were the very partin against whom he
waa said to have conspired— Northumberland ,

Norlhampton, Pembroke, and the other leadiug
members of the government ; and tlie wibieecea
against him were not produced, but only their
written depositions read. Somerset denied ill
the materia] facta with which he waa charged.
As for killing the Duke of Northumberiand and
the others, however, he admitted that he had
thought of sncb a project and talked of it, but
on consideration he had determined to ahandos
it: "yet," adds the notice in the king's jouiuil,
" he seemed to confess he went about their death.*
In ti-utb, thia black chat^, which would now
excite so much horror, inasmuch as it did not
amount to treason, waa probably regarded both
by the prisoner and his judges as the lightest In
the indictment. It was upon this, however,that
he was condemned. The subservient court, in-
deed, would have voted the conspiracy to imprison
or take away the life of their master Northum-
berland to be treason; but that nobleman himself
had the grace to decline this compliment, acd aa
Somerset was only found guilty of felony. On
this verdict l>eing pronounced he thanked the
lords for the open trial that had been allowed
him, "and cried mercy of the Duke of Northum-
berland, the Marquis of Northampton, and the
Earl of Pembroke, for his ill-meaning againat
them, and made suit for his life, wife, children,
servants, and debts."' Ab soon aa he waa pro-
nonnced goiltlesa of treason the axe was with-
drawn, and he was carried back to the Tower
nnaccompanied by that ghastly emblem. Hit
royal nephew appears to have been perfectly con-
vinced of his guilt, and in that feeling to have
dutifully given himself no further concern nbont
him. Qrafton, indeed, says that " he aeemeil to
take the trouble of his unde somewhat heavily ;*
but bia public demeanour, at least, gave no sigua
of anything of the kind. While his uncle lay con-
demned to death he was enjoying the merry fe^tivi-
tiea audpaatimesof Christmas with, to all appear-
ance, not less relish than usual. The court having
repaired to Greenwich, where open house «u
kept, there was, by order of the council, "» visa
gentleman and learned," named George Ferrers,
appointed for this year to be Lord of Misrule,
"whose office,' says the clironicler, "is not un-
known to such aa have been brought up la noble-
men's houses and among great housekeepeis,
which use liberalfeasting in that season." They
did not even keep the sound of their revelry out
of the hearing of Somerset in bis dungeon, for
part of their mummery in the shape of a hmd
and water [H-oceaaion was in the immediate neigh-
bourhood of the Tower.

Other shows and sports of the season are
recorded with great unction by the king himself
in his journal. Thus, on the 6th of January,

I KlBf^ JooiuL

»Google

ij). IHfl— 1653.1 EDWARD VI. 89

aftera Uiumej in tlie morning, we lutve, at Dight, [ accomplices of the duke, Sir Miles Partridge, Sir
first a pla;, in which, "after a talk between one | Ralph Yane, Sir Hicbael Stanhope, and SirTho-

that was called Riches, and the other Youth,
whether of them waa better,' and " tome pretty
reaaoniag," six champions on each side "fought
two to two at barriera in the hall;" and "then
came in two apparelled like Almains, the Barl of
OnuoDtl and Jacques Gran&do, and two came in
like friars, but the Almuns would not suffer them
to pUB till they had fought: the fiiars were
Mr. Dmry and ThomaaCobbam. After thU fol-
lowed twu maska — one of men, another of women.

CocKT tlUK or THE TIME.— Stnlt'a nwil AnUr|iiltIi9

Thru a banquet of 120 dishes." lu the hurry of
All this making and feasting Edward had neither
time nor inclination to think of his uncle, or to
heai his endcavoura to move hini to mercy. So,
u the chronicler puts it, "this Christmas being
thus passed and spent with much mirth and pas-
time, it was thought now good to proceed to the
eiecution of the jadgmeut given agaiust the Duke
of Somenet." The execution took place on Fri-
day, the SSd, under which date his nephew has
wolly noted that "the Duke of Somerset had his
hfaJ cut off upon Tower-hill, between eight and
nine o'clock in the morning.'' The duke met his
dmth with great composure. As he was repeating
the name of Jesus for the third time, the axe fell,
ini! instantly deprived him of life.' Many per-
sons, to preserve a memorial of him, dipped their
handkerchiefs in his blood.

Whatever may be thought of many of Somer-
set's actions, and of hifl general character, his
guilt in respect of the charges for which he suf-
fered death must be held to be extremely doubt-
ful; and it is not doubtful at all that be was
condemned without a fair trial, and that he was
nally sacrificed to the ambition of a worse man
than himself. Of the persons apprehended as ihe

' Far, trtm Um BrBrvu dI II twUsmui, who ni pnsnt.

Arondel, were also tried, convicted, and ei
cnlod together on the 26th of February. They
all with their last breath protested their innocence
of any design either against the king, or against
the lives of any of the council. Vane said, that
as often as Northnmberland laid his head oa his
pillow he would find it wet with their blood.

Parliament re-assembled on the 23d of Jauu-
ary, IGfiS, the day after the execution of Somerset.
Acta were passed for enforcing tbronghout the
realm the use of the Book of Com-
mon Prayer, as amended the precede
ing year by a committee of bishops
and divines, and already sanctioned
hy the convocation; for amending
thelawof treason, in which the im-
portant principle was introduced,
that DO person should be attainteil
under the act unless upon the evl-
denceof two witnesses given in the
presence of the accused; for main-
taining the observance of the fsKt-
. days and holidays marked in the
calendar; for the relief of the poor,
in which the churchwanlens were
empowered tocollectcontributions
for that piirpoBe,and the bishop was
directed to proceed against such
parisbionera as refused to contri-
bute ; for legalizing the marriages
of priests and legitimizing their children; besides
a few others relating chiefly to subjects of trade
and manufactures. Some of the questions that
arose occasioned a good deal of debate, and the
divisions that took place in the commons showed
that the existing government could scarcely count
upon the attachment or support of a majority of
the members in that house. Finding them thus
impracticable, Northumberland, before they had
yet sat for three months, or even granted the
usual supplies, not only terminated the session,
but dissolved the parliament, which had now been
in existence tor nearly five years. This done, "it
wafi resolved,' says Burnet, "to spend the summer
in making friends all over England, and to have
a new parliament in the opening of next year.'

On the IBth of January, 1553, accoi-dingly, the
nsual warrant was sent to the lord-chancellor,
directing him to summon a parliament for the
1st of March following; and then the most direct
means were taken to procure a House of Com-
mons composed, to as great an extent as possible,
of the friends of the government. In several cases
particular persons holding offices at the court or
in the government were expressly recommende<l
to the sheriffs in letters from the king.* Whfii

> sirrrt, ut 1

,v Google

to

HISTOEV OF ENGLAND.

[Civil asd Militabt.

the |MU-U&meiit met, the firat bill that was brought
fonrnrd waa one for granting enpplies. Notwith-
Btandiog the preponderance of Uie goveniinent
partj in the house, it waa not passed in the com-
inona without long aod eager debate, principal)}'
occauoned, it isBuppoBed,b; the preamble, which
attributed all the king's finauciftl difficulties to
the aduiniatratitm of the Duke of Somerset The
odIj other act of the Besaion requiring to be here
noticed was one anppresaiug the bishopric of
Durhain, and creating in its stead two nevr dio-
ceses, one comprehending the county of Durham,
the other that of Northumberland. Since the
failure of his attempt in the lust session of par-
liament to effect the deprivation of Bishop Ton-
stal hj a bill of p^DS and penalties, Norilium-
berland had accomplished that object by bringing
the bishop before a new court erected for the
specif pnrpose — aa open and daring an act of
arbitrary power as if he had deprived him with-
out any trial at all. The object of the depriva-
tion of the bishop and the Buppreeeion of the see
was soon made manifesL Parliament waa pro-
rogued on the 3lBt of March, and in the course
of the following month the suppressed bishopric
was erected into a connty-pslatine, which was
united to the crown for the present, but was in-
tended to be ultimately devolved, with ail its regal
privileges, on the Duke of Northumberland.

Ueauwhile, however, n new prospect opeued
upon the dnke'a ambition. For some time past
the health of the young king had been in a yery
infirm eUte, aud of late it had been visibly and
mpidly declining. In tlie spring of the last year

11 Huni^, tivai 111* niTM.— if

tracted illness. In the beginning of the present
year he was seized with a violent congh, which
medicines would relieve; it was no doubt the
consequence of disease formed in the lungs, bnt
the auspicious credulity of the times attributed
slow poison that had been given to
roM so ill when the parliament met in
the beginning of March, that he could not go
down to Westminster, and the two houses were
assembled the first day at Whitehall, In the
beginning of May he seemed rather better; but
this show of amendment soon disappeared — and
by the following month it became evident that be
conid not live many weeks. Thronghout his ill-
Northumberland had sedulously laboured
a his affection and confidence by a constant
attendance and every manifeatntion of soHcitude :
he had at the same time not neglected some
other necessary preparations for the project he
hand. In the beginning of May were
celebrated with great magnificence, at the doke'a
new residence of Durham House in the Strand,
the marriagea of his fourth son, the Loril Guild-
ford Dudley, to the Lady Jane Grey, eldest
daughter of the Duke of Suffolk — of hisdanghter
the I*dy Catherine Dudley, to the Lord Hast-
ings, eldest eon of the Earl of Huntingdon — and
of the Lady Catherine Orey, the Duke of Suf-
folk's second daughter, to the Lord Herbert,
the son of the Earl of Perabi-oke. Two of these
alliances night seem to be intruded merely to
aid generally in extending or strengthening his
familyconnections and binding together the fabric
of bis power; but the tliird had a higher aim.
IVances, Duchess of Suffolk, the
mother of the lady Jane Grey,
whose hand was received by hie
son, was the eldest of the two
daughters and only surviving chil-
dren of the Princess Mary, daugh-
ter of Henry TIL, who had first
bene married to Louis XII. of
France, and then to Clirirles Bran-
don, Duke of SutFolk, by whom
she had her two daughters. After
Edward, in the succeBsion to the
throne, there stood between Ladv
Jane, or her mother, by this de-
scent, only the two princesses Marj-
and Elizatieth, both of whom, by
their father's command, had Ix^ii
bastardized by acts of parliaments;
and the liesoendanta of Mary Tn-

dor's eldest sister Margnret, who

had been attacked first by the measles and j married James IV. of Scotland but who had not

n by the small-pox, and it is p«)bable that, been wcogniwd as havmg any claim in the w,ilot

with a constitution naturally delicate, which he her brother Heniy Till., and whose repr^nta-

ui suppoeed to have derived from his mother, he tive, the present infant Queen of Scolji, certainly

never altogether shook off the effects of that pi^ I would have litUe chance of si

then

sifully asserting

,v Google

A.t>. 1M9— 1603.]

EDWABD VI.

41

BDj rights she miglit be suppoaed to have to the
Eugliah throne. NorthnmberlaDd therefore pro-
poi«ed to bring the crown into his own family hy
securing it for the head of his new danghter-in-
Uw the I*dy Jane.

Having vithont difficulty induced the Duchess
of Suffolk to tnnafer her right to her eldett
Haughter, he proceeded to unfold hia plan to the
king. Before the anxious miud of thedjing boy,
over whom he had acquired an extraordinary in-
fliieni^, he placed an alarming representation of
the dangers and caLuaities that were likely to
arise from the succession of either of his sisters.
Mary, the elder, was a bigoted Papist, and would
certunly, the moment that she ascended the
throne, proceed to undo all that had been done
during her hrother'B reign, in the settlement of
the true religion; yet she could not be set aside
without urging a plea — that ot her illegitimacy
^n-liich would at the same time equally exclude
Elizabeth. The only safe course, therefore, was
to pass by both; and in that case Edward's cousin,
the smiable, accomplished, and thoroughly Pro-
testant Lftdy Jane Grey, was obviously the per-
son littent to be named as his successor. Edward
acquiesced in the force of these argument*; and
assuming himself to be entitled to exercise the
same powers which had l>een nsed by his fa-
ther Henry, he determined upon having a new
entail of the crown executed to the effect the
duke bad propoaed. Having sketched with his
own pen a draft of the instrument, and signed a
fair copy of it with hia name above and below and
on each mai^n, he sent, on the llth of June, for
Sir Edward Montague, chief-justice of the Com-
mon Fleas, SirThomaaBromley,oneof the puisne
justiees of the same court, Sir Richard Baker,
chancellor of the augmentatjons, and Qosnold
and Gry^n, the att^>mey and solicitor general,
to attend the council nt Greenwich. When they
came to him the next day, be received them in
the presenoe of sever^ of the ooanaellors, shortly
statt-d to them what he had made up his mind
upon doing, and the reasons that had weighed
with him, and desired them to draw up the in-
strument in the proper legal form. They objected
that the act of parliament which settled the suc-
cession could not be taken away in the manner
proposed ; but the king persisted in the command
he had given. On the 14th they returned and
intimated that, upon looking into the statutes.

they had found tliat to draw such an iiisUnimeul
as was proposed, would subject them to the juiins
of treason. ITpon this, Northumberland came
rushmg into the room in the greatest fury, called
Montague a tnutor, and threatened him and the
rest, " so that they thought he would have beaten
them."' He said he waa ready to fight any man
in his shirt, in so just a quarrel. In the end they
were commanded to retire for the present; but
the next day they were again sent for— and first
Montngue and then the others suffer^ themselves
to be partly persuaded, partly brow-beaten, into
consenting to draw the will, the king declaring
that it was his intention to have it t&tified in the
parliament which was summoned to meet in Sep-
tember, and agreeing to give them under the
great seal both a commission to perform the act,
and a pardon for having performed it. The ,in-
strument accordingly was duly prepared, and,
having been engrowed on parchment and carried
to the Chancery, had the great seal affixed to it.
After this, on the Slat, it received the signatures
of all the lords of the council, of most of the
judges, and of the attorney and solicitor general.
Twenty-four members of the connoil, with Arch-
bishop Cranmsr at their head, had also before
this, on the command of Northumberland, signed
another paper, pledging their oaths and honour
to "observe every article contained in his ma-
jesty's own device reapecUng tiie succession, sub-
scribed with his majesty's hand in six several
places, and delivered to certain ju<^es and other
teamed men, that it might be written in full or-
deri" to defend it to the uttermost; and if any
man should ever attempt to alter it, to repute
him an enemy to the kingdom, and to punish
him as he deserved.

Edward survived the completion of this trans-
action only a few days. It is said that when his
physicians declared they had no hope of his re-
covery, he was intrusted to the care of a woman
who offered to undertake his cure. Under the
woman's treatment he grew worse every day, and
the physicians were soon recalled; but he still
continued to sink; and on the evening of the 6th
of July, while engaged in prayer, he breathed
hia last, having lived fifteen years, eight months,
and twenty-two days, and entered upon the nxth
month of the seventh year of his reign.

• Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

CHAPTER XI.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— i. d. 1553—1554.

A-D. 1563 — DUni, A-H. 155*.

niaudim of tba Dnkf of !«artliamb«rUud on Um daktb of Edward VI.— L*d; Jua Cnj pnuluHMd queen—
CoaDter-|7ocluu*tioa of JUrj — Duke of NortliuniberUiul takes comiuad of tJie armr againet Uary— Htc
caue adopted by tba people — XorthiubberUnd joine in proclaiming her — He U ^Treated and impriwaed—
Politid condact of the Friiie«n Elinbeth— The Popiih buhope nileaBed from coofinemeDt— The Duke a!
Northnmberland and his chief adharenta tried and executed — I'opery restored — PerMCOting ijmptomi
^ovn bj Uai7 — Cimnuier impriaoned— MarT*! coronation— VTonbip paid to her bj the Popieh partj— Pro-
fielaillillil condemned and Proteetanta pereecoted — ProtoetaTit biihope Imprieaned — Hie Proftatant ptilpiU
■ilenoed — Utij't p»rtia!it7 for the Eul ot Devon — Propotali for her marriage to Philip of Spain-^The torn
of the marriatce tnaty— It occaaiooi Wjatt'i rebellion— Pint euccemee of the rebellion — The rebel! attempt
to g*in poMtiriop of London — They an defeated — Biacntion of Wyatl and liii accompUoea — Eliiabetli
arrerted and eiamiiied ae privy to the rabellion- Her letter to her liiter Harf— EllEabeUi cotninitled to tU
Toirer— Eieention of Lady Jaue Orey— Execution of the Duke of Suffolk, her father— Eliiabeth releueti tram
the Tower — Arrival of Phihpin England- Hii marriage with the qneen — Hit atteinpta to win popnlaritj ia
EDghod— Tba tean ot the holden of ehnroh landi quieted — Cardinal Pole racalled lo England — Jealcniy of
the Engliih at Philip'* proceadingn — Uaiy'i bojieii of prodadiig ao heir to the throne — Joy of the PipiitioD
the oeoaeion— Their ditappolDtmeut.

E laJeut ftnd decision of tha Earl
it NortbiimberUnd were far from
■eiDg eqiud to hia ambitioD. Al-
hough the de&th of Edward muet
lave been expected for months,
hat event seeme to have taken
Iiim by BUrpriae, or at Icaat iu a very anprepare<l
state. In order to gain a little time, he deter*
mined to conceal the king's death — a common
enough practice in deapotio govemmeata, and one
which, as we have ieen, had also been adopted
on the ilemiHe of Henry Till. He had even ne-
glected the imptortaot measure of getting poases-
aion of the persons of the two princeMca. The
Lady Uary, it appears, had been summoned tu
attend her half-hrother Edward on his death-bed;
but having loiig been acquainted with Northum-
l>erland'a secret practices, she showed no anxiety
for thia journey to London, where her enemies
were in their full strength. The snmmona was
now repeated, as if Edward, though in extremity,
were still alive; and Mary at last moved reluc-
tantly from Hunsdon in Hertfordshire. But the
Earl of Arundt;!' despatched messengers to iu-
fonn her that her brother was dead, and that
Northumberland, who wbb plotting to place the
lAdy Jane Grey on the throne, only wanted to
make her a prisoner. On receiving tbia intelli-
gence, Mary, who had advanced within a half a
day's journey of the capital, changed her route,
and went to Pramlingham Castle in Suffolk,

seat«d near the sea, whence, if fortune frowneil,
she might eaaily embark and flee to the nemieh
dominions of her relative the Emperor Charles.
The I«dy Elizabeth was in Hertfordshire: the
had been summoned to court in the like manner
as her half-uater Mary, and was also warned of
the real state of afiairs by soma personal friend,
who is generally supposed to have been S.t Wil-
liam Cecil. She therefore remained where sh«

Northumberland, having two days together
consulted with his friends and dependants se to
the best way of managing this great aSatr— the
king's death being still kept secret — commanded
the attendance, at Greenwich (where the d*«l
body was lying), of the lord-niayor of London,
ail aldermen, and twelve other oitizeua "of chief-
est account.' On the 8th uf July the mayor, the
aldermen, and the oitisens, went down to Green-
wich, where Northumberland and some of the
council secretly declared to them the desth of
the king, as also bow, by his last will, and by hi*
letters -patent, he had appointed and ordained
that the Lady Jane should be hia sncceasor in
the throne and sovereignty. The depatation,
being shown the royaJ will, swore all^iance U
Lady Jane, and were bound under a great penslty
not to divulge these "secret passages" until they
should receive orders from the council. The long
conference being thus satisfactorily ended, the
duke and three other lords repaired to Sion
House, announced to Jane her elevation, anJ
tendered their homage upon their knees; but her
answer to their congratulations waa a flood of

« »w- HMKiiird: Cwlitin »»jk; AiUn, Jftwin S"**

,v Google

i,D. 1563—1054.] iS-A

bitter tflus. Grievoua indeed to her was the
duuige which traiiBferreU lier from that silent
' her congenial studies, to the din of

eto.1 HMm.'— Fmu Bsuiis of

a. metropolis and the troubles uf au
throne. On the 10th of Julj', about threeo'clock
iu tbe afternoon, Lady Jane Qrey was conveyed
by water to the Tower of London, and there pub-
licly received as queen ; for Northumberland was
by this time informed not only of tlie flight of
Uary, but of her being so well aware of all that
was pnaaing that she was summouing the nobility
to her standard. In the course of the evening
after Lady Jane's safe arrival at the Tower, the
death of King Edward was publicly divulged for
the firat time, ajid Jane was proclaimed queen in
the city, witli somewh&t leas than the usual for-
mality. Tbe people of London wei-e cold and
■ilent, many of them whiapeiing the uame of
Queen Mary, and very few of them entering into
the spirit of this revolution in the order of suc-
cession. The amiable victim of the aiiibition of
others had never entertained any sanguine hopes,
and had resisted the project to Uie utmost. " So
far was she from any desire of this advancement,
she began to act her pai-t of royalty with mimy
tean, thus plainly sliowiug to those who had ac-
cess to her that she was forced by her relations
and friends to tliis high but dangerous post.''
She was in the bloom of her youth, graceful aucl
pretty if not beautiful^most amiable and unaf-
fected—quiet, modest, attached to her young
husband and her domestic duty —fund of retli-e-

' TtilB miBlan. hIuaM on tli* Tlisn>« obout two nUn obore
Chlivlak, li nuntd rrofn ■ ssnusnl of Brldfauils, Bmndod In
1111 br HwT V. AlW tbe mppnidaii at (he monHtartea, llu
bDiUingB wm TVtalned by tbe onrwu during the reign nf Henr?
Tin., ud mn gnnted bj Edmnl VI to Ptctector Bmoencl.
wlw fbnuded on ihetlteM the unnuttcbulldiiigUie noble nei-
(Uboe. wbleJibeiloiif beenBieetftf theNoTthuDibeThnd AimUr.

RY. +3

ment and of elegant literature, and so acconi*
plished that she rend Plato in the original Greek.'
In the meanwhile Mary's friends had exerted
themselves in Suffolk, in Norfolk,
and in Cambridgeshii-e, where the
^_ people detested Northumberland

on account of his severity lu au)i-
presaiug the recent rebellion iu
those parts. There was indeed a
very strong party among them thnt
inclined to the Keformatiou ; but
when Mary solemnly pledged her-
self to make no change in the reli-
gion or laws of EdwanI, even these
men embraced liercause — the cause
of l^itimacy — with Zealand affec-
tion. It was a struggle betweeu the
love of hereditary right and the at-
tachment to the new order of things
a. in the church, and the former feel-

ing prevailed. The council and a
great number of the nobility had gone to tlie
Tower with lAdy Jane, where Northumberland,
in a manner, kept them prisoners; but other men
of high rank who were in the provinces had
hastened to join Mary as soon as thej leame<l
where she was. Forces, raised to serve tlie I^dy

Jane or Northumberland, went o

iT.QaeatiHuTn-evtfrbLkhedtheDriHieBterjr. <
Elizsheth, Che monnftsiT ng igiln diwlTi
hDRifl wBBgimiiledtDQeiiTTPercf, ninth Eul
d. AJgOTDDb l*ttrj, nnn ot tbfl abuta uoblenm

»Google

u

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cr

. AMD M1UTA8T.

and even a Bmail fleet whicU was sent dovn the
coast to intercept her in caM iHe ahould attempt
to quit England, declared agftinat the uaurpation,
and hoisted her flag. On the 1 2th at July, Mai?
sent an order to Norwich for her proclamation iu
that important cit^. The municipal authorities
hesitated, being not ytt certain of the king's death ;
but the next day they not only proclaimed her,
but alsosent her men and anunuuition. She had
already written to the membeTs of the coancil to
claim the throne, which she said belonged to her
by right of hirtli, by the decision of parliament,
and by the will of her father. The council, who
were at the mercy of Northumberland, replied
that her claima were opposed by the invalidity of
her mother's marriage, by custom, by the last
will of King Edward, and by the general voice
of the people! They had scarcely despatched
this answer from the Tower, when they learned
that Mary had moved to Eenninghall in Norfolk,
and had been there joined by the Earb of Bath
and Sussex, Sir Thomas Wharton, son to the Lord
Wharton, Sir John Mordaant,Sir William Drur?,
Suf John Shelton, Sir Henry Bedingfleld, and
many other gentlemen of rank and influence.
Northumberland now found himself in a dilem-
ma: he dreaded the cabals of the counsellors and
conrtiera if he left them behind, and he knew
not whom to trust with the command of the army
if be did not go himself with it At last he
thought of placing the Dolce of Suffolk, I^dy
Jane's father, at the head of the forces, which
were to fall upon Mary before she should gain
more attength, and, if possible, get possession of
her person and bring her to U)e Tower. But
Suffolk had no great military reputation,
Northumberland waa more than half afi&id of
truatiug him aloue, while the council, for their
own uiety, were bent upon making the chief
plotter go himaelf. Their manceuvre was facili-
tated by the filial tenderness of I^dy Jane, who,
" taking the matter heavily,* with sighs and
tears requested that her dear father might tarry
at home in her company. " Whereupon the
council persuaded with the Duke of Northum-
berland to take that voyage upon himself, say-
ing, tliat no man waa so lit therefor, because
that he had achieved the victory in Norfolk once
already, and was so feared there that none durst
lift up their weapons against him; besides that
he waa the beat man of war in the realm, aa well
for the ordering of hia camps and soldiers, both
in battle and in their tente, aa also by experience,
knowledge, and wisdom, be could auimate his
army with witty penuasions, sod also pacify and
ftUa; his enemies' pride with hia stout courage, or
else dissuade them, if need were, from their en-
terpriae. finally, >«jd they, this is the short and
long, the queen will in nowise grant that her

father ehall take it upon him." " Well," quutli
the duke, " aince ye think it good, I and mine
will go, not doubting of your fidelity to the
queen's majesty, which I leave in your custody.' '
On the morrow, early in the morning, the duke
called tor hia own hameea, and saw it made rraAy ■
at Durham Place, where he appointed all bis
re^ue to meet. In the course of the day carta
I laden vitb ammunition, and artillet? and
field-pieces were sent forward. When all waa
ready, Northumberland made a tender appeal Ut
the feelings of the councU who were to be left
behind, telling them that he and the noble per-
sonages about to march with him would freely
adventure their bodies and lives in the good
cause, and reminding them that they left their
children and families at home committed to their
truth and fidelity. He also reminded them of
their recent oaths of allegiance to the queen's
highness, the virtuous Lady Jane, "who," stud
be, " by your and otw enticement, ia rather of
force placed on the throne than by her own seek-
ing and request;* and in the end he bade them
consider that the cause of God, the promotion of
the gospel, and the fear of the Pi^ists, the origi-
nal grounds upon which they had given their
good -will and consent to the proclaiming of
Queen Jane, bound them to the caose for which
he waa preparing to fight.* Though nearly every
man present bad made up his mind to declare fur
Queen Mary as soon as bis back should be turned,
they all pi'omised and vowed t« support the good
cause, and Northumberland depauied. But aa
he marched with his small army of 6000 men
through the city, hie spirits were damped by
the manner and countenance of the people, who
ran to gaze at his passage, and he could not help
bidding bis officers observe that of that great
multitude not so much as one man had wished
them success, or bade them " God speed." On
the Sunday after his departure, Ridley, Bishopof
London, whoae whole soul was iu the revolution
as the only likely means to prevent the return of
Papistry, preached at Paul's Cross, most elo-
quently showing the people the right and title of
the Lady Jane, and inveighing earnestly not only
against the Lady Mary but also against the Lady
Elizabeth, of whose religion, it ia evident, that
doubts were entertained. The Londoners liateueit
in silence. On that same Sunday, the leth of
July, the lord- treasurer stole out of the Tower
to bis bouse in the city, evidently to make ar-
rvngements for the council going over in a body
to Mary. He returned in the night, and two
days after, Cecil, Cronmer, and the rest of the
oouusellois, panuaded the imbeoile Duke i>f
Suffolk that it was very necessar? to levy fresh
forces and to place (hem in better hands — tb»t

»Google

i.O. 1553—1554.] ma:

U, in their own ; and that, to be of full use in
support of hia dftugbt«r Queen June, ti^, her
trusty and loyal council, must be permitted to
leave the Tower, and hold their BittiagB at Bay-
□ard's Castle, th«n the reaideuce of the Earl of
Pembroke. The council were no aooner urived
at th&t house than they declared, with one voice,
for Queen Mary, and instantly despatched the
Earl of Arundel, Sir WiUiam Paget, and Sir
William Cecil, to notify their submission and
eiceeding great loyalty. Id the course of the
snme day the council aiimmoned the lord-mayor

Bivif^iut'fl Ca»tlkJ — Fiom t print by RollAi.

aud the aldermeu to Bayuard's Castle, and told
thentthat they most ride with them ''into Cheap"
to proclaim a new queen; and forthwith they all
rode together to that street, where Master Gar-
ter, king-at-anns, in his rich coat, stood with a,
trumpet, and the trumpet being sounded, they
proclaimed the Iddy Mai7, daughter to King
Henry VIU. and Queen Catherine, to be Queen
of EnglaJid, Fnuice, and Ireland, Defender of the
Faith.and Supreme Head of the Chitreh! "And
to add more majesty to their act by some de-
vout solemnity, they went in procession to Paul's,
BiDging that sdffliiahle hymn of those holy fa-
then St. Ambrose and St. Angnatine, commonly
known by ita first words TV De<an.° The people
seemed to triumph greatly iu this triumph of
liereditory right; and all were joyful eioept a
few who were zealously attached to the new re-
ligion, and well acquainted with the fierce intol-
eiauoe of Mary. The council then detached some
compatues to besiege the Tower ; but the timid
Duke of Suffolk opened the gates to them rw soon

I Thla e*M;ii, ntiubid an th* bunbcil th* ThiunH. wufbiuHlad
br Bviud. ( fijllowar of WlUUm tlu Conquun. tt wh (Or-
CaitAd to tba cnnra La 1111, bj cnw <tf hii dtnsadiuit'. Hnir
I, boloved ft on BnboTt FILi-RlDh«rd. k i^nuulKm of GilLflil
Rut Clin. To tliia bmllj. In light of tha cutis, uppertilml
Uv <4B» of cwtoUu mnd bumflT-liHrv of thfldt^of London.
Tbi utls wu boiiHd In \va, ud wu nboUt bj Humi^n?,
^BkooCQloooorter. OnhbdeaOiltiMpiuitwl bjHiiniJ VI.
to mdiHd. Duke of York. Tbe outlswu npalnd or nbniU

tY. «

as they appeared, aud entering his daughter'ii
chamber, told her that she must be content to be
unqueened aud return to a private station. It ie
said that the Lady Jane expressed joy rather
than sorrow, and hoped that her willing relin-
quishment of the honours that had been forced
upon her, aud her ingenuous conduct, would pal-
liate the error she had committed. While she
returned to prayer in an inner room, her father
poflted off to Baynard's Castle, where he joined
the reetof the council, and subscribed the decrees
they were issuing iu the name of Queen Mary '.
In the meantime the Duke of Northum-
berland, who bad marched as far as Bury,
perceiving that the succours promised
him did not come to hand, and receiving
letters of discomfort from some of the
council, had fallen back upon Cambridge,
where, it should seem, he learned the de-
fecUon of the fleet, and of the land troops
that had been nused in the counties. He
reached Cambridge ou the 16th of July,
the day before the proclamation of Mary,
in London ; and on the 20th of July, the
day after that event, of which it appears
he was well informed, he, with such of
the nobility as were in his company, went
to the market-cross of the town of Cam-
bridge, and calling for a herald, pro-
claimed Queen Maty, aud was himself
the first man there to throw up his cap and cry,
" Qod save her '.' He had scarcely played this
part, in the hope of saving his neck, when he
received a sharp letter from the council in Lon-
don, commanding him to disband his army and
return to his allegiance to the blessed Queen
Mary, under penalty of being treated as a traitor.
This letter was signed, among others, by I^dy
Jane's father, the Duke of Suffolk, by Cranmer,and
by Cecil. Tha order,as to the army, was scarcely
needed, for most of the men had disbanded of their
own accord, and almost all the lords and officers
who had hitherto followed him, had passed over
to Mary, and made their peace by accusing Nor-
thumberhuid as the sole author and cause of their
taking up arms against their lawful queen. On
the following day, while the duke was still loitei-
ing at Cambridge, not knowing whether to flee
for hia life or to trust to Mary's mercy, and the
encouraging circuntatance that some of the coun-
cil, in reality, aud all, in apptaranoe, had shared
in his treason, he was arrested by the Earl of

bj Henrj VII.

Aocorfidg to an old

Tlew, It

inslndsd I oiiiirs

• rlMni

tfasolule hsl^t

oftta>bnUdilK

with tb( irladowi li

sbors tbe othsr.

thsrtrsrbj.bridBS

uidstai

1. TbecutlnBu

po-wdbTt'

tlia KiHt firs of 1M«, A Turtles of i

ocUvmslUwsn

may itm bs HI

m in the rl«r w«U o(

kwhiri

which BOW m,i.

»Google

46

HISTORY OF ENGLAND,

[Civ

D Mll.t

Aruadel, who hated liim bi death, though a little
before he had profewed&vishtOBpeDd hishetut's
blood iu his service. The duke, trho was utterly
devoid of greatoeu of mind, fell on hin knees
before the earl, aud abjectly b^ged for life; but
Amadel, whorvjoioed in hia rain aud abasement,
carried him off to London and lodged him in the
Tower, even as Qoeen Mary had commanded.
The Ladj Jane, baring, "at on a stage, for ten
days only peraonated a qoeen," was already in
safe cnetody within those dismal walls; and the
Earl of Wacwick, Lord Ambrose, and Lord Heniy
Dudley, the three sons of the Dake of Northum-
berland ; Sir A. Dudley, the duke's brother, the
Marqnis of Northampton, the Earl of Hunting-
don, Sir Thomas Palmer, Sir John Gates, bis
brother Sir Heiiry Gates, and Dr. Edwin Sandys,
vice-chancellor of the univeraity of Cambridge,
who had impugned Queen Mary's rights from
the pulpit, were very soon lodged in the same
fortress 1 and two daya after these committals
Sir B^^er Cholmley, lord chief-justice of the
Kin^e Bench, Sir Edmnnd Monti^e, chief-jus-
tice of the Common Pleas, the Duke of Suffolk,
and Sir John Cheke, were added to the list of
■tata prisoners : but on the Slst of July the Duke
of Sufblk, I^dy Jane's father, was discharged out
of the Tower by the Earl of Arandel, and toon
afUr obtained tha queen'* pardon. On the 30th
day of this same bitsy month, the I^dy Elizabeth
rode from her palace in the Strand (where she
liad amved the night before] through the city
of London, uid then out by Aldgate, to meet
her sister Mary, accompanied by 1000 borae, of
knights, ladies, gentlemen, and their servants.
At this difficult crisie the conduct of Elizabeth,
which is supposed to have been prescribed by Sir
William Cecil — afterwards her own great minister
Lord Burghley — was exceeding politic, and at the
same time bold. When waited upon in Hert-
fordshire by messeDgen from the Duke of Nor-
thumberland, who apprized her of the accession
of l^e lAdy Jane, and proposed that she, Eliza-
beth, should resign her own title in oonsideration
of certain lands and pensions, she replied that
her elder uster Mary was first to be agreed with,
aud that, during her lifetime, she could claim no
right to the throne. She determined to make
common cause with her sister against those who
were bent on excluding them both ; she called
aroimd her a number of friends to prevent her
seizure ; she waited the coarse of events ; and, at
the right moment, hurried to the capital, whence,
as we liave seen, she set out, well attended, to
welcome Mary aud give strength to her party.'

The ijueeu travelled by alow jouraejrs from
Norfolk t4i Waoslead, in Essex, where she ar-
rivnl on the lit of August, aud was congratD-

' *^(«. Ihliuti^l.- Si--'. OWllI.N.

lated on her happy snccew by Elizabeth. The
greater part of her army, which had never ex-
ceeded 13,000 men, and which had never diswu
a sword, was disbanded ; and on the 3d of Au-
gust, attended by a vast concourse of the nobil-
ity, Mary made her triumphant entrance throngli
London to the Tower, where the old Duk* of
Norfolk, Edward Courtenay, son to the Mar-
quis of Ezet«r, beheaded in tite year 1A36, Oar-
diner, late Bishop of Wincheeter, and Anne,
Dowager-duchess of Somerset, presented th«m-
aelves on their knees — Bishop Gardiner, in the
name of them all, delivering a congratulatory tmt-
tion, aud blessing the Lord, on tlisir onu account,
for her happy accesaion. It was, indeed, a time of
triumph forallof the Catholic party! Thequeeu
courteously raised them, kissed each of theni,
saying, " These are all my own prisoners," and
gave orders for their immediate discharge from
the Tower. A day or two after, Bonner, late
Bishop of London, and Touatal, the old Bishop of
Duriiam, were released from the harsh imprison-
ment to which they Had been committed by the
Protestant part^, aud immediate meamres weni
adopted for restoring them and several of their
friends— all zealous Papists — to thrir respective

On the 18th of August, Johu Dudley, Dukeof
Northumberlaod, his eldest sou John, Earl of
Warwick, and William Parr, Marquis of North-
ampton, were arraigned at WeHtminster Hall,
where Thomas, Dnke of Norfolk, high-steward of
England, the recently liberated captive— the sui^
vivor of his accomplished aon, the Earl of Surrey
— presided at the triaL The Duke of Northum-
berland pleaded that he had done nothing but by
the authority of the council, and by warrant of
the same under the great seal of EngUnd ; and
be asked whether any such persons as were
equally culpable with him, and thoae by whoae
letters and commandments he had been diractsd
in all his doings, might he his judgea, or ait apon
hia trial as jurors] The latter query did him no
good : the members of the council averrad that
thty had acted under peril— that ihm/ had been
ooeroed by the duke — and Suffolk (the father of
I^y Jane!) Cranmer, Cecil, and the rest, oon-
tinued U> sit in judgment, and with very little
lose of time proceeded to pass sentence. The
duke hesitated al no meanneai to avert hia doom ;
but self-prostntiou was of no avail. When sen-
tence was passed be craved the favour of such a
death na waa uaually allowed to noblemen ; he
besought the court t^i be merciful to his sons, on
aooonnt of their youth aud inexperience; an<l
then, as a last hope of gaining the queen's pardon
by apostasy, he requested that he might be piT-

• anr; CMlHii.

.a Ui<: V

,v Google

*.!). IMS- 1564.]

MAKY.

47

mitled to oouter with tome learned diviiie forth*
settling of h'la couacience, and th&t her nujestj
would be graciously' pleased to send usto him foor
of her council, to whom he might discover cei^
tain things that neu-ly ooncemed the safety of tier
rvalm. His aon, the Earl of Warwick, showed
higher spirit, hearing his sentence with great {

pBalma of Jfutrere and De Pro/imdu, bis I'aia-
Jfotter, and sis of the first verses of the paaltn In
U,Dom%i%e,tper<ai,wiA.ingiKit\i, "Into thyhands,
O Lord, I commend my spirit' Then bowing
towards the block, he said that he bod deserved
a thousand deaths, and laying his head over it,'
I his neck was instantly severed.' They took ap
finnneaa, and craving no other favour than that his body, with the head, and buried it in the
his debts might be paid out of his property con- | Tower, by the body of his victim the late Duke
fiscated to the crown. The Marquis of North- I of Sometwt, so that there lay before the high
arapton pleaded that, from
the beginning of these
tumults, he had dischar-
ged no public office, and
that, being all that time
intent on hnnUog and
other sports, he had not
partnkea iu the conspi-
racy; but the court held
it to be manifest that lie
was a party with the
duke, and passed sentence
on him likewise. On the
next day Sir Andrew
Dudley, Sir John Oates,
Sir Henry Gates, and Sir
Thomas Palmer, were
condemned as traitors iu
the same court.' On Tues-
day, the 22d of August,
the Duke of Nortbumbei'-
land. Sir John Gates, and
Sir Thomas Palmer, were
brought forUi to Tower-
liill, for execution. Wheu
the duke met Sir John
Gates he told him that be
forgave him with all bis heart, although A« and -, altar

<r St. Pvriai'a Ciuru, la

from hij ikotoh or

tha cmtned were the great cause of his present
condition. Gates readied that he forgave the
duke as he would be forgiven, although ha and
hit high authority were the original canseaof the
whole calamity. From the scaffold Northnmber-
hnd addressed the people in a long and contrite
speech, in which he told them that they should
all most heartily pray that it might please God
to giant her majesty Queen Mary a long reign.
After he had spoken to the people, he knelt
down, saying to those that were about him, " 1
beseech you all to bear me witness that I die in
the tme Catholic faith j" and then he repeated the

I St. Peter's Chajiel t

» headless dukes

between two headless queens — the Duke of Som-
erset and the Duke of Northnmberlaud between
Queen Anne Boleyn and Queen Catherine How-
ard, all four beheaded and interred in the Tower.*
The head of Sir John Gates fell immediately
after that of Northumberland. Gates also made
a long penitential speech on the scaffold, telling
the people that he had lived as viciously and
wickedly all the days of his life as any man ;*
that he had been the greatest reader aod worst
obeerrer of Scripture of any one livii^. Sir
Thomas Palmer was next beheaded, and in his
dying speech he thanked God who had made

A wu IDuiHlarbT Eilnjd 111.,-iiiiddsdicaladlii
Iht un» of " St. Ptter In CUin^- annmoiJj aHiti " St. FMir
UTlunili wKlim UwTowsr.' ThflbnUdliig iirimpLo widw-Jtb-
uiu ud uMltiotu that Uiili ijrtliecirigiDiil itraiitiin nmiiui.

It oooUliu Km

• nocdnt

toml-,U«

■uliertof

■«ttitb.ni

of U<miT VII.

Inaddidon tathiw

UlnUioiii

l«t, thu

« an tmrt

>d in Uu>

oJupol, FUl

BidiopofRod

en: Cnnn

nil. Bui or E

•«;ltolBHrt.

of BdMmjiLoid.ftd

]nlnl»7nK->

of Siri^iJlth.

PmiWor

Udjj™

Qnr, ud b

Dadl.,;^

DthMorialno

M

•»>(>«liKl. Sua.

,v Google

48

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

[Civil axd MiiJTAKr.

liiiii leorc more io one little diu-k comer of the
Tower, than in all hia mauj tnfvels,

On the day after these exeontioDB, Ctordilier,
Itiahop of Winchester, was made chancellor; and,
on the SundajfolloTing, the old Catholic serrice
van BUDg in Latin in St. Paul's Church. It wbb
fully eipecl«<t that the active Qardiner, would
proceed at once to extremities against the Pro-
testant pattj ; but for a short time there waa an
awful pause. The Emperor Charles, whom she
consulted on all affairs of importance, strongly
advised the queen to prwieed in evBiything with
the ntmoflt csntion — to wait the effect of Ume
and example on the religious faith of her people
— to punish only her prindpal enemies, and to
quiet the apprehensions of the rest, who might
be driven to desperation by over-severity.' Mary
replied, " God, who has protected me in all my
misfortunes, ia my trust. I will not show him
my gratitude tardily and in secret, but imme-
diately and openly."' She was fain, however, to
issae a public declaration that she would con-
strain nobody in religious matters, but must only
insist that her people should refrain from the
oflenwve expressions of "Papist" and "heretic."
But the spirit of the zealot was not to be wholly
repressed by any considerations of political ex-
l>ediency. It was only nine days after the issu-
ing of the proclamation that she had caused mass
to be sung in the firat church in the city of Lon-
don ; and she proceeded to establish a moat rigo-
rous censorship of the press, and to prohibit ail
persons from speaking against henelf or her coun-
cil, btcavm all thai tkej/ did, or might do, vat for
lAt honour of Qod and iha welfare of htr tuigecU'
immortal louit. There can be no doubt that
Mary was sincere in her convictions ; she was an
honest fanatic, but her fanaticism was only the
more dangerous from her honesty, and the per-
suasion which she held in oommon with other
zealots, that all her plans were for the service of
the Almighty. Even the darkest mud fiercest
passions wei'e in her oue masked by religion,
and by filial piety ; and it appeared to her a av
end duty to avenge on the reforming party Uie
wrongs and sufferings of her mother Catherine.
Mary's youth had been passed in gloom and in
storms ; her father had alternately threatened to
make her a nun and to take off her head ; he and
liis ministers had forced her to sign a paiper in
which she formally acknowledged that the church
«he adored was a cheat, and that the mother who
bore her had never been her fathet'a lawful wife.
From the time of the marrime of Ajine Boleyn
she bad been persecuted, insulted, and driven
from place to place, almost like a common ciimi-
nal luid vagabond. A woman of an angelic tem-
l>er might, by mimculons exertion, have forgiven

■iwf, qssud bj RiDBW. ■ IbhL

all these wrongs ; a yo»ng woman, with a aunnd
constitution, and its concomitant — a li^t and
cheerful spirit, might have foigotteu them gra-
dually in the full aunshine of prosperity; but
Mary was thirty-seven years old, an age at which
it is difficult to erase any deep impreasioos ; and
partJy through the effects of long years of grief
and fear, and partly through the defects of her
original formation, her constitution was efaat'
tered, and the ill-humonr and moroseneea of the
confirmed valetudinarian were superadded to the
other fertile causes which were to make her a
curse to the nation.

Tliis nnhappy woman, with an unhealthy mind
in an unsound body, had all along conudered
Cranmer as the greatest enemy of her mother,
whose divorce he had pronounced. After being
left at large from the day of her entrance into
London to the 14th or 15th of September, the
archbishop was suddenly arrested and committed
to the Tower, with Latimer and some othera.
There is an immediate cause assigned by some
writers for hin arreet at this momenL Men re-
membered Craumer'a conduct in the days of
King Henry, when he sat at the head of tribu-
nals which sentenced Protestants to tlie flames ;
he was generally beUeved to be deficient in that
extreme courage which braves torture and death ;
and it was reported of him, that, in order to pny
court to this most Catholic queen, he had engaged
to restore the rites of the old church, and to offi-
ciate pereon^ly in them. He had certainly never
shown such courage before, and he could not be
blind to the great risk he was running; but,beiug
nsiisted by the learned Peter Martyr, he wrote
and published {it is said) a manifesto of his entire
Protestant faith, and his abhorrence of masaea
and all other abominations of the Popish super-
stition.' A few days Bft«r his arreat, Queen Mary
went to the Tower by water, accompanied by the
Princess Elisabeth and other ladies. Tbis waa
preparatory to the coronation. On the last day of
September the queen rode in great state from the
Tower, through the city of London, towards
Westminster, sitting in a chariot covered witli
dotb of gold. Before her rode a number of gen-
tleman and knights, then judges, then doctors,
then biahops, then lords, then the council : after
whom followed the knighla of the BatA in their
rohea; the Bishop of Winchester, lord-chancel-
lor; the Marquis of Winchester, lord high-trea-
surer; the Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Ox-
ford, b«*ring the sword of state ; and the ItHtl-
mayor of London, bearing the sceptre of gold.
After the queen's chariot Sir Edward HasUugn

,v Google

A.a IMS— laSi] MA

led h«r horaa in hand ; imd after her bone wme
another chariot coTCred ftll over with white silver
cloth, whereia sat aide by lide, with amiliug
faecH, the Prinoeaa Elizabeth and our old fair-
complBzioned and contented friend thb Ladt
Ami OP Ci-btbbI On the morrow the queen
went by water from Whitehall to the old palace
of WestnuDiter, and there remained till about
noon, and then walked on foot apon blue oloth,
nhich was railed on each Bide, to St Peter's
Clioreh, where she was solemnly crowned and
anointed by Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester,
who took good care not to omit any of the an-
cient rites.'

Fire days after the coronation a parliament
■Bsemhled at Westminster, and both Lords and
commons soon garemelancholy proofs that they
had made tip their minds
to BiMt with the prevail-
ing current, and to make
no efforts for the protec-
tion of anything except
the estates of the church
that bad fallen into their
own hands. As there was
scarcely a member in the
upper bouae but had
shared in the spoil in the
lime of Henry aud Eil-
ward, and as it was
known that their only
anxiety was for Uie pre-
servation of what they
had gotten, no apprehen-
sion was entertained of
Huy serious opposition on
the part of the peers ;

and as for the commoim, Ovtat Mabv.-

they had long been timid

and subservient in the extreme, and on the pre-
KDt occasion, out of n prudent regard to their
personal tiafety, those who were not Papists had
contrived to keep away from parliament. The
Tcrv Gist act of the new parliament was decisive :
prooeedingB were opened in each of the houses
l>r celebrating high mass; and the men who, a
few jiears before, had voted the observance to be
damnable, all fell on tlieir knees at the elevation
of tilt host. Only Taylor, Bishop of Lincoln,
tefosed to kneel ; for which he was harshly
treated, and kicked or thrust out of the House of
Wds. The first bill that was passed, in imita-
tion of what was done by the Protestant party
St the accesNOD of the late king, abolished every
species of treason not contained in the statute of

Edward IIL, aud every species of felony not set
down in the statate-book previously to the first
year of Henry VIII. They next declared the
queen to be legilamate, and annulled the divorce
of her mother pronounced by Cranmer, greatly
blaming, the archbishop for that deed. Then,
by one vote, they repealed all the statutes of the
late reign that in any way regarded religion, thus
returning to the point at which matters stood in
the last year of the reign of Henry VHI., when
most of the offices and ceremonies of the Homaa
church, the doctrine of tnuuuhstantiatiou, the
celibacy of the clergy, and other matters odious
to Protestants, were fully insisted upon. The
queen neither renounced tbe title of supreme
head of the church — a title most odious, fi-ight-
ful, or ridicidous to Catholic ears — nor pressed
for a restitution of the
abbey lands ; though, to
give proof of her own
disinterestedness, she
prepared to restore of her
own free-will all property
of that kind which had
been attached to the
crown. It was quite cer-
tain that the lords, who
were so compliant in
matters of doctiine and
faith, that conceroed
their souls, would have
offered a vigorous resiat-
auce to any bill that
touched their estates or
their goods and chattels;
and Mary had been well
warned on tliis point.'
.ut« ZuDchoni Gardiner, who had al-

ready dismissed all such
of the Protestant bishops as would not conform or
enter into a compromise, now summoned the con-
vocation, to settle once more all doubts and dis-
putations concerning the sacrament of the Lord's
Supper. With the exception of a few words
spoken by John Ailmer, Richai-d Cheney, John
Philpot, James Hadden, and Walter Philips, the
Papists had it all their own waj. HarpsGeld,
the Bishop of Loudon's chaplain, who opened tbe
convocation with a sermon, set no limits to his
exultation; and, in the vehemence of his joy and
gratitude, he compared Queen Mary to all the
females of greatest celebrity in Holy Writ aud
the Apocrypha, not even excepting the Virgin
Mary. It would scarcely be expected by people
of ordinary imagination that it was posuble for
any one to surpass the hyperbole of Harpefield ;
and yet this feat seems fairly to have been per-
formed by Weston, the prolocutor.

,v Google

m

HISTOKY OF ENGLAKD.

(C,T,

. AUD McLtTiST.

AfUr these orations the couvoca
to buainesa, and in some matters came to impor-
tant decisious without waiting for the authority
either of the queen or the parliameut, being sure
of the oae and eutertaining a well-merited con-
tempt for the other. They declared the Book
of Common Prayer to be an abominatioa ; they
called for the immediate Huppreauou of the re-
formed English Cntechism ; they recomraendad
the most violent measures agninat all sach of the
elergy as would not forthnitli dismiss their
wives, aud adopt the Catholic opiuion as to the
real preseDce. In London and the great dties,
where the Proteataot doctrine bod taken deeper
root, the change, thoagb rapid, wa« aoniewhat
less sudden ; but in the rural districts generally,
where tlie population had never been properly
converted, the mass ^e-l^>pea^ed at ouue, aud
every part of the Reformed aerrice was thrown
aside even before any express orders to that effect
from court or from convocation. Hosts of priests,
aud particularly the residue of the abbeys and
monasteries, who liad conformed to save their
lives or to obtain the means of supporting them-
selves, declared that they had acted under com-
])ulaion, and joyfully returned to their Latin
niaases, their confessions, their holy water, and
the rest. Many again, who really prefemni the
Reformed religion, were fain to conform to what
they disapproved of, just as their ojipouents had
done in the preceding reign, and from the same
worldly motiveH. But still there were many
hiarried priests who would on no account part
with their wives, or receive, na the rules of sal-
vation, tenets which, for years, they had con-
ilemned as the inventions of the devil. Some,
also, there were who had made to themselves, by
their intolerance in the days of their prosperity,
bitter enemies among those who wei'e now in
the ascendent. The prisons began to fill with
Protestant clergymen of these classea; and others
of them, being deprived of their livings, were
thrown upon the highways to beg or starve, as
the motiks had been in the days of Henry YIII.,
their condition being so much the worse as they
had wives and cliildren.

About half of the English bishops, bending to
the storm, conformed, in all outward appearances,
with the triumphant sect.' Those who did not,
or who were peculiarly obnoxious to the domi-
nant party, were deprived of their sees aud what-
ever they possessed, and cast into prison. Wc
have alri'ady seen Ci-aumer and Ijalimer sent to
the Tower. Shortly after, Holgate, Archbishop
of York, was committed to the same state prison
for man-iage ; and Ridley, Bishop of London, for

preaching at Paul's Cross in defeuoe of Querii
Jane's title, and for "heretical pravity;' Poyaei,
who had held the bishopric of Winchester ianag
Gardiner's deprivation and impriaonnieDt, wu
also committed to prison for being married.
Taylor, Bishop of Iducoln, who had refused In
kneel at the elevation of the host in the House
of Lords, was deprived "for thiukiug amiss am-
cerniug the eucbarist;" Hooper, Bi^op of Wur-
cest«r and Gloucester, for having a wife, aatl
other demei'iUi Hariey, Bishop of Hereford, for
wedlock and heresy ; Ferrar, Bishop ol SL David's,
for the same offences; Bird, Bishop vi CbesUr,
for marriage. Coverdale of Exeter, the tntu-
lator of the Bible, was also ejected aud thron
into prison, where he lay two years, not widioiit
danger of being burned. Barlow of Bath and
Wells, and Bush of Bristol, voluntarily resigntd

On the 13th of November Cranmer was brought
to triul for high treason, together with the l«d]'
Jane Gi-ey, her youthful husband Lord Guildford
Dudley, and his brother Lord Ambrose Dudley,
They were all condemned to suffer death u
traitors, by the very men who a short time hetoro
had acted with them, and had sworn allegiance
to Jane; but the youth of three of these victitM
to the ambition and imbecility of others eicilal
a lively sympathy in the nation, and the queeu
sent them back lo the Tower, apparently »ith
no intention of ever bringing them to the block.
Even the foui-th victim, Uninmer, was respited,
and was jmrdoned of liis treason ; but he wm
sent tiack to the Tower on the equally perilons
charge of lieresy. He was strongly advised by
his friends, botli before his apprehension auJ
also now, to atteinjit to escape out of the kins-
dom, but he is said to have replied, that his tmitt
was in God, and in his holy word, and that he
had resolved to show a constancy worthy of »
Christian prelate. He repeatedly professed to
have a great desire to be admitted to ■ privab'
audience of the queen; but Mary bad no inclina-
tion to receive the man who had seale<] her
mother's dishonour, and the party about her
seconded this strong and natural feeling of »»et-

Before parliament was dissolved the attiindfr
of the old Duke of Norfolk was legally reversed,
it heiaif declared, with some reason, that no
special -matter had been proved either agwn"t
liiin or his son the Earl of Surrey, except the
wearing of part of a coat-of-arma. On the S1b(
of December, a few days after the dissolution nf
parliament, the church service began to be per-
formed in Latin throughout England. At the
same time the I^y Jane had the liberty of tbe
Tower granted her, being allowed to walk in the

,v Google

4.O. 1SM-1S64.] HA

qtteen'H garden aod on Um bill; the Lord Guild-
ford Dudley and hia brother vere treated more
leniently than they had been; and the MarqaiB
n{ Northampton «u set at liberty altogether.
This moderation was a matter of marvel in those
daye, nor did the queen fail in making a faronr-
able impreaaion by remitting the subsidy voted
to her brother by the preceding parliament : but
uther circumHtancee sufficiently indicated that
Mary wae determined not only to re-establish
the Roman church, but ta prevent the teaching
and preachiog of the Reformed doctrine. There
waa scarcely by this time a pulpit in the king-
<lom that was not silenced; and Gardiner, Bonner,
ToDital, Day, Heath, Vesey, and others of the
now restored Catholic bishops, were not likely to
{lermit them to be eloquent again. The men of
Suffolk, whone loyalty had placed lier on the
throne, ventured to recal to her mind her solemn
promises given to tbem on that occasion, that
she would not change the Reformed religion as
established under her brother. Oue of these
remoustnuitB, who was bolder than the rest, was
set in the pillory; the others were brow-beaten
iuid insulted. Judge Hales, who had defended
the queen's title with a most rtse courage, was
arbitrarily arrested and thrown into a noisome
)>riaon as soon as he showed an opposition to
these ill«^, rasb, and dangerous proceedings.
Tha upright judge was treated with euch severity
that hia body and mind became alike disordered
— he fell into a frenzy, and attempted suicide by
cutting his throat. He was at length liberated,
but it was too late ; insanity had taken a firm
hold of him, and he terminated his life by drown-
ing himself.' .

Hai7, who had been affianced in her infancy
to the Emperor Charles, to the French king, to
the dauphiu, and who, iu the course of the last
two reign^ had been disappointed of several other
linsbauds, now determined to marry, in order, it
appears, to make sure of a Catholic succession.
It should seem, however, that she was not wholly
devoid of the tender passion, for it is said, on
ffxid authority, that she conceived an affection
for the aon of the Marquis of Exeter — murdered
in her father's days— the handsome and accom-
plished young Edward Courtenay, whom she had
liberated from the Tower on her first coming to
Iiondou.* Upon this kinsman, whose flourishing
youth and courteous and pleasant disposition de-
lighted the whole court, she lavished many proob
uf favour: she hastened to restoi« to him the

' Blrnpi; Sbm; HalitiAti; ffodiriH. Nam, Li/t i] lonl Burtk-

I Pnm Uh •«■ of foarteu lo thit of twKt;-^ thii rlctlm
•f trnniv bwl bm donitd to nfMt, In ■ ckpUiritf whloh
Unatiuadlo baparpetnil, Um Inrolnnluj oAnoe of Isbaritiiia,
thmofb u Mtaintad btlur, Iha bkMd of (ha tiaiih Edwud —
A.Un. JVnwfn of ft Omrt ^ liurai SiiabeA.

BY. 51

title uf Earl of Devon, to whit:h she added the
whole of those patrimonial estates which his
father's attainder had vested in the crown; and
when people spoke or whispered of tlie wisdom
and fitness of an English queen marrying a great
English nobleman, descended (as she was herself
by her grandmother) from the royal house of
York, har coantenance relaxed instead of in-
creasing its habitual severity. But the accom-
plished Earl of Devon soon became suspected of
indulging in anti-Catholic notions, and, what was
almost as bad, he betrayed, as is said, a prefer^
ence for the queen's balf-sister Elizabeth. If
there had been little affection between the royal
ladies before, this circumstance was not likely
to increase it; and a few mouths after Maiy's
accession, we find Elizabeth retiring to her house
of Ashridge in Buckinghamshire, attended by
Sir Thomas Pope and Sir John Gage, who were
appointed by the queen to keep a watchful eye

The Emperor Charles, who had been solemnly
affianced toherhimself nearly thirty years before,
was now most anxious to secure the hand of Mary
for bis son, the proud, the bigoted, the crafty,
and cruel Philip, who then happened to be a
widower. As Mary consulted her motlier's ne-
phew in all her difficulties, Charles was enabled
to press this suit for his son vith good effect.
The imperial ambassadorB had couatant access,
by night as well as by day, to the royal but
elderly maiden; and one night, within three
months after her accession, before any public ne-
gotiation had taken place, and without so mucli
as consulting her council, Mary solemnly pro-
mised to marry Philip. For some time this en-
gagement was concealed, but when it was whis-
pered abroad it excited almost universal discon-
tent, for the character of Philip, though not yet
fully developed in action, was well known ; and
it was reasonably suspected that the once free
kingdom of England would be wholly enslaved
and made dependent upon Spain and the em-
peror. With these views the match was odious
even to most of the Catholics, whose patriotism
rose triumphantly above their bigotry. In the
face of these feelings it was judged prudent )o
proceed slowly and with caution. The match,
however, was spoken of in parliament, and the
commons even petitioned againat it — a circum-
stance which is supposed to have hurried on the
dissolution.

1564 Early in January a splendid em-
bassy arrived from Spain, and, on
the 14tb of the same month, Bishop Gardiner, as
' chancellor, in the presence chamber, made to the
; lords, nobility, and court gentry, an "oration very
I eloquent," setting forth ttiat the queen's majes^,
' partlj for old amity, and other weighty conside-

»Google

52

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

tCv

. AND MlUTABT.

ratioiu, had, after inncb suit od the emperor's
and Prince of Spun'e behalf, determined, with
the conient of the council and nobilitj, to mateb
herself with the said prince " in most godly and
lawful matrimony." After this exordium Glar-
diner ezpltuned the conditions of the treaty.

or HolMn.

wliich, to disarm opposition in England, had
heen made wonderfully mild, moderate, and
generous on the part of Philip, who, of course,
would reserve to himself the right of altering it
thereafter as he should see occasion and find
means for so doing. It was agreed that though
Philip should have the honour and title of King
of Eagland, the govemment should rest wholly
with the queen, he (Philip) aiding her highness
in the happy administration of her realms and
dominions; that no Spaniard or other foreigner
should enjoy any office in the kingdom ; that no
innovations should be made in the national laws,
customs, and privileges ; that the queen should
never be carried abroad without her free consent,
nor any of the children she might have, without
consent of the nobility (there was no mention
made of the commons, nor indeed of the parlia-
ment). It waa further agreed that Philip, in the
unlikely case of Mary's surviving him, should
■etUe npon her a jointure of £60,000 a-year; that
the male issue of this marriage should inherit
lioth Burgundy and the Low Countries; and that
if Don Carlos, Philip's sou by his former marriage,
should die and leave no isnie, the queen's issue,
whether male or female, should inherit Spain,
Sicily, Milan, and other dominions attached to the
Spanish monarchy!' On the nut d>y the lord-
mayor of London, with bis brethren the alder-

and forty citizens of good aubataace, wu
court, where Oardiner repeated his
oration, desiring them all to behave thenieelvea
like good subjects, with hnmblenen and rejoic-
ing for so happy an event. On this same day
Bobert Dudley, one of the sons of the late Duke
of Northumberland, was condemned as a traitor,
the Earl of Sussex pronouncing sentence that he
was to be drawn, hanged, bowelled, and quar-
tered.'

But if the treaty of marriage had been tenfold
more brilliant In promises, it would have biled
in satisfying the English people. Within five
days the court waa startled by intelligence that
Sir Peter Carew was up in arms in Devonshire,
rssotute to resist the Prince of Spain's coming,
and that he had taken the city and castle of Exe-
ter. This news was followed, on the 2Sth, by
intelligence that Sir Thomas Wyatt had taken
the field with the same determination in Kent;
and the mayor and aldermen, who had so re-
cently been commanded to rejoice and make glad,
were now told to shut the gates of the city, and
keep good watch and ward, lest the rebels should
enter. Sir Thomas Wyatt, son of the poet of
that name, who has been associated in glory with
the Earl of Surrey, was a veiy loyal knight of
Kent, and, apparently, a Papist;' but he had con-
ceived a frightful notion of the eruol bigotry and
grasping ambition of the Spanish court. Al-
though connected by blood with the Ihidleys, he
had refused to co-operate with the Duke of
Northumberland in the plot for giving the crown
to lady Jane Grey, and had even been forward
to proclium Queen Mary in the town of Maid-
stone, before knowing that she had been pro-
claimed elsewhere. Wyatt appears to have been
a brave and honest, but rash man ; and the m»-
jority of those who had engaged to co-operate
with him, from different parts of the kingdom,
were either scoundrels without faith, or cowards.
The highest name of all was both : this was the
Duke of Suffolk, lady Jane Orey'a father, who,
to the astooiahment of most men, had been libe-
rated from the Tower, and pardoned by Queen
Mary. On the 25th of January, the very day
on which it was known that Sir Thomas Wyatt
had risen in Kent, tbis duke fled into Warwick-
shire, where, with hia brothera the Lord John
Orey and the Lord Leonard Grey, he made pto-
clamation against the queen's marriage, and
called the people to arms; "but the people in-
clined not to him." The plan of the conspitv-
tots seems to have been, that Wyatt should en-
deavour to seize the Tower, where Ijuly Jane
and her husband lay, and get poaseamon of the

»Google

A.D. 15S3-1&64.] UA:

atj of London; that Uie Dake of Suffolk Hhoold
niw the niidl&nd ootmtiu, and C&nw the weat:
but in ezecation tbej proceeded with a misera-
ble want of concert and arrangement Od the
S8th the old Dnke of Norfolk, with the Earl of
Arondel, marched from London agaioat Sir Tho-
mas Wystt, who had adv&nced to Bochester, and
lak«a the castle. When the rOTaliBts reached
Rochester bridge thej found it defended with
three or four double cannonH, and by a numer-
ons force of KflnUih mea Norfolk sent forward
a herald with a proclamation of pudoa to all
each Rs should quietly return to their homes, bat
Wyatt would not permit the' herald to read this
paper to the people. Norfolk then ordered an
aanult; but when five hundred Londoners^the
truned bands of the city — led by Captain BieCt,
readied the head of the bridge, they suddenly
stopped, and their captain, turning round at their
head, and lowering his sword, said, "Masters,
we go ahont to fight Against our native cotmtry-
lom ot England and our friends, in a quarrel
nnrightfnl and wicked -, for they do but coneider
the great miseries which are like to fall upon us,
if we shall be under the rnte of the proud Span-
iards; wherefcH«, I think no English heart ought
to say against them. I and others will spend
o«r blood in their qnarrel." He bad scarcely
finished, when the band of Londoners turned
their ordnance against the rest of the queen'a
forces, shouting every one of them, " A Wyattt
a Wyatt !" At this defection the Duke of Noi^
folk and bis officers turned and Sed, leaving
ordnanoe and all their ammunition behind them.
The Londoners crossed the bridge, and three-
fourths of the regular troops, among whom wer«
some companies of the royal guard, went after
them, and took service with Sir Thomas Wyatt
and the insnrgente.' Whm the intelligence
readied London all was M^t and confusion,
especially at the court, where almost the only
person that showed fortitude and composure was
the queen herself. Wyatt ought to have made a
forced march upon London during this constei^
nation, bnt he loitered on his way ; he did not
reach Greenwich and Deptford till three days
after the b9^ at Bochester bridge; and then he
lay three whole days doing nothing, and allow-
ing the government to make their preparations.
The qneen, with her lords and ladies, rode from
Westminster into the city, where she declared to
the mayor, aldermen, and livery, that she meant
not otherwise to marry tlian as her council should
think both honourable and adnuitageouB to the
realm — that she conld still continue unmarried,
■s she had done so long— and therefore she
trusted that they would truly assist her in re-
; such as rebelled on this account. On

I aw; HUbuAid; Otdwin.

53

lame day on which she made this visit her
spirits were cheered by intelligence that the
Duke ot Suffolk had been discomfited in the
midland counties, and that Sir Feter Carew and
his friends had been put to flight in the west.'
She issued a proclamation of paidon to all the
Kentish men with the exception of Sir Thomas
Wyatt, Sir George Harper, and the other gen-
tlemen, offering as a reward to the man that
should take or kill Wyatt, Unds worth ;£100
a-year to him and his heirs for ever. On the 3d
of Feljrnary, at abont three o'clock in the after-
noon, Wyatt and his heat (who are differently
estimated at 9000 and at 8000 men], marched
from Deptford, along the river aide, towards
Southwark. Wyatt placed two pieces of artilleiy
battery at the Southwark end of the bridge,
and caused a deep Wench to be dug between
the bridge and the place where he was. Con-
trary to his expectations, the Londoners did not
throw open their gates, and he had not resolution
sufficient to attempt an assault by the bridge.
He again lost two whole days, and on the morning
of the third day the garrison in the Tower
opened a heavy fire of great pieces of ordnance,
culverine, and demi-cannons full against the foot
of the bridge and against Southwark, and the
two steeples of St. Olave's and St Mary Overy.
As soon as the people of Southwark saw this,
they no longer treated Wyatt as a welcome guest,
but, msking a great noise and lamentation, they
entreated him t^i move elsewhere. Telling the
people that he would not have them hurt on his
account, he marched away towards Kingston,
hoping to cross the river by the bridge there,
and to foil upon London and Westminster from
the west. It was four o'clock in the afternoon
(on the 6th day of February) when he reached
Kingston, and found about thirty feet ot the
bridge broken down, and an armed force on the
oppoBit« bank to prevent his passsge. Heptaced
his gnns in battery, and drove away the troops ;
with the help ot some siulors he got possession of
a few boats and bargee, and repaired the bridge;
but it was eleven o'clock at night before these
operations were finished, and liismen were sorely
fatigued and dispirited. Allowing them no time
for rest — for his plan was to turn back upon
London by the left bwik of the Thames, and to
reach the city gates before sunrise — he marched
them on through a dreary winter night. When
he was within six miles of London the carriage
of one of his great brass gnns broke down, and
he very absurdly lost some honra in remounting
the piece ; and so, when he reached Hyde Park,
it was broad daylight, and the royal forces, com-
manded by the Earl of Pembroke, were ready to

) Baml of Olnw^ \mrii pl*7«d b<

»Google

S4

HISTOHV OF ENGLAND.

|a»

D MlLTFART.

receive him tliere. Many of Wjiatt'a followera
had deserted before be crossed the rivet-
Kingston ; others liftd lingered behind during
the night-march; and, nom, tnan^ more aban-
doned liim on seeing that formidable prepnra-
tiona were made against him. With great bra-
very, however, he resolved to fight his
through the rojal army, still entertaining a
fident hope that the citizens wonld rise ic
favour. After a short " thnndering with the
great guns," he charged the queen's cavalry, who,
opening their ranks, suffered him to pass with
abont 400 of his followers, and then instantly
ulonng in the rear of this weak van-guard, they
cut him off from the main body of the insur-
gents, who thereupon stood still, wavered, and
then took a conti-ary course. In the meanwhile
Wyatt rushed rapidly along Charing Cross and
the Strand to Ludgate, which, to his mortifica-
tion, he found closed against him. In v^n he
shouted " Queen Maryl Ood save Queen Mary,
who has granted our petition, and will have no
Spanish husband !* A part of Pembroke's army
liad followed Wyatt in his rapid advance, and,
when he turned to go back by the same road,
he found that he must cut his way through dense
masses of horae and foot. He charged furiously,
and actually fought his way as far as the Temple.
But there he found that his baud was diminished
to some forty or fifty men, and that further re-
sistance was utterly hopeless, Clarencieui rode
up to him, persuading liim to yield, and not,
"beyond all bis former madness, surcharge him-
self with the blood of these brave fellows." At
last Wyatt threw away his broken sword, and
quietly lurrendered to Sir Maurice Berkley, who,
mounting him behind him, carried him off in-
stantly to the court

"The coming of Wyatt to the court t>eing so
little looked for, was great cause of rejoidug to
such as of late beforeetoodingreat fearof him."'
He waa immediately committed to the Tower;
and a proclamation was made that none, upon
|)ain of death, should conceal in their houses any
of his faction, but should bring them forth im-
mediately before the lord • mayor and other the
queen's juitices. "By reason of this proclama-
tion, a great multitude of these said poor caitifis
were brought forth, being so many in nnmber,
that all the prisons in London sufficed not to
receive them; so that for lack of place they were
fain to bestow them in divers churches of the
■aid city. And shortly after there were set up
in London, for a terror to the common sort (be-
canae the Whitecoats' being seat out of the city,
as before ye have heard, revolted from the queen's
part to the aid of Wyatt), twenty pair gallows,
on the which were hanged in several places to

> Hulbulud. ' Tht Tnliwl DuiIl

the number of fifty persons, which gallowaes r^
mained standing there a great part of the summer
following, to the great grief of good dtizens, and
for example to the commotioners.'* In the course
of a few weeks, about fifty officers, knighta, and
gentlemen were put to death. Twenty-two com- I

moo soldiers were sent down to Kent with Brett,
the captain of the Trun-bands, who had deserted
at Bodiester bridge,and they were there executed I

as traitors, and gibbeted. About sixty were led in i

procession, with halters about their necks, to the
Tilt-yard, where the queen granted them a par-
don. About 400 common men, in all, suffered
death between the 7th of February and the 12th
of March, and many were executed aft^rwarda.'

The day bIIct the breaking out of Wyatt's
rebellion was known at court, the queen resolved
to arrest her half-sister Blizabeth and her former
favonrite, the handsome Courtenay, Earl of De-
von, who were both suspected (and it is by no
means clear that they were falsely suspected) of
being partakers in the plot. She sent three of
her council— Sir Richard Southwell, Sir Edwartl
Hastings, and Sir Thomas Com waliia^ with a
strong guard, to Ashridge, in Buckinghamabire,
where Elizabeth was suffering a real or feigned
sickness. The worthy councillors did not arrive
at tiie manor-house till ten o'clock at night ; the
priucesshadgonetoreat, and refused to seelhem;
but, in spite of the remoustrancee of her ladies,
they rudely burst into her chamber, and carrie<l
her in a litter to the capital. The deep int«rest
she excited among the Londoners alsxmed her
lies; and, after undergoing a rigid euimina-
by the privy council respecting Wyatt's in.
surrection and the rising of Carew in the west
—of both of which attempts shs protested slie
entirely innocent — she was dismissed from
court in about a fortnight, and allowed to return
to Ashridge. The handsome Courtenay was com-
mitted to the Tower, in spite of his protestations
of innocence. But Elizabeth had scarcely been
liberated when Sir William Sentlow, one of her
officers, was arrested as an adherent of Wyatt's;
it was asserted that Wyatt had accused the prin-
cess, and stated that he had conveyed to her in a
bracelet the whole scheme of his plut ; and on the
10th of March she was again taken into custody
and brought to Hampton Court. On the Friday
before Falm Sunday, Bishop Gardiner, chancel-
lor, and nineteen members of the council, went
down to her from the queen, and charged htr
directly with being concerned, not only in Wyatt'n
conspiracy, but also in the rebellion of Sir Puter
Carew, and declared unto her that it waa tlie
queen's pleasure she should go to the Tower.

Upon Saturday following," says Holiushed
(or rather Fox, whose words the old chronicler

»Google

A.D. 1563—1564 ]

bere trsnacribes), "th&t id, the next dkj, two
lordB of the council (the one was the Earl of Sus-
sex, tAe otAer t&all be namdtu) came and eertiflad
her gTACO, ttwt forthwith she muert go unto the
Tower, the twrge beiug prepared for her, and the
tide now readj. In hearj mood ber grace re-
quested the lords tbkb she might tarry another
tide. But one of the lords replied, that neither
tide nor time was to be delayed. And when ber
grace requested him that she might be suffered
to write Ut the queen's majeatj, he answered that
he durst not permit that. But the other lord,
more courteous and favourable (who was the
Karl of Sussex), kneeling down, said she should
have liberty to write, and, as a tnie man, he
would deliver it to the queen's highness, and
bring an answer of the same, whatsoever came
thereof." Whereupon she wrote h letter, which
has been preserved. She began by refei-ring to
some former promises made to her by her sister
JIary. She proceeded humbly to beseech hei-
majesty t« grant her an audience, that she might
answer before herself, and not before the meni-
bciB of the i>rivy council, who might falsely
represent her, and that she might be heard by tlie
queen before going to the Tower, if possible^ if
not, at least before she should be further coa-
demneii. After ruiuiy protestations of innocence
andeiprcsaiunsof herhope in the queen's nutui-al
kindness, s)ia told Mary that there was some-
thing which she thought aud believed her majesty
would never know pro[)erly unless she heard her
with hor own eui-s. She then continued: "I
liave heaiyl in my time of many cast nway, for
want of coming to the presence of their prince;
and in late days I heard my Lord of Someivet
say, that if his brother had been suffered to speak
with him, he had never suffered; but the persua-
wons were made to him so great, that he was
brought in to believe that he could not live safely
if the admiral lived ; and that made him give his
consent to hia death. Though these persons are
not to be compared to your majesty, yet I pray
iiod, as (that) evil persuasions persuade not one
Hiater against the other; and all for that they
have heard false report, and not hearkened to
the truth known. Therefore, once again, kneel-
ing with humbleness of my heart, because 1 am
not suflured to bow the knees of my liody, I
humbly ci&ve to speak with your highness . . .
And as for the traitor Wyatt, he might perod-
venture write me a letter, but, on my faith, I
never received any ti-om him. And as for the
ropy of my letter sent to the French king, I pi'ay
God confound roe eternally, if ever I sent him
word, message, token, or letter by any means; and
to this, my truth, I will stand in to my death."'

BY. 65

This letter, which was much more spirited
than might have been expected, particulariy if
we reflect that Elizabeth, in all piobabihty, was
not ignoi^nt of the plan of the rebellion, availed
her nothing. She never received the " only one
word of answer' for which she humbly craved in
a postscript; and upon the morrow, which was
Palm Sunday, strict orders were issued through-
out London that every one should keep tlie church
and cftny bis palm ; and while the Londonerx,
men, women, and children, were thus engaged,
Elizabeth was secretly carried down to the Tower
bywater,attendedby the Earl of Surrey and the
other iMmtleu lord. The barge stopped under
I'mitors' Gate. Then, comingout with one foot

TmiToiB' Qi.tr., TowiR or IfliDOs.'— From n liew hj BwrfT.

Upon the stair, she said, "Here lamluth as true a
subject, being prisoner, as ever landed at these
staini; and before thee, 0 Ood, I speak it, having
none other frieud but thee alone!" Going a
little fui'ther, she sat down on a stone to re»>t
herself ; and when the lieutenant of the Tower
begged her to rise and come in out of the wet
and cold, she said, " Better sitting here than in a
worse place, for God knoweth whither you bring
me,'' She evidently apprehended an iiumediale

id wu nlr ued tor Uh (dmlwon of iminrtuit p«-

of IkM g>t« btwsrdi Uw ri*d

»Google

fi6

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CiTJL AXt> MlUTAKT.

executu>ii; but tfa« lords carried her to an inaer
apMimeat, and left ber there in groat dismay,
after aeeing the door well locked, bolted, and
barred.'

Bat before Elizabeth entered the Toirer gates
other interesting victlnu bad isaaed from them
to the grave. The Itidy Jane Grey, who had
been condemned to death three months before,
was indulging in the hope of a free pardon when
the ill-managed inaurrectiou broke out. It bp-
peara Terj evident that Mary had no intention
of executing the eenteuce upon her, but now she
waa easilj made to believe that the life of tbe
lady Jaae was incompatible with her own safe-
ty ; and, in leas than a week aft«r Sir Thomas
Wjatt's discomfiture, she signed tbe death-wai^
rant both for Jane and her husband. On the
morning of the ISthofFebmorj the Lord Guild-
ford Dudley was delivered to the sherib and
conducted to the scaffold on Tower-hill, where,
after saying his prayers aiid ahedding a few
teara, he laid his head on the block and died
quietJy. The fate of this young man excited
great commiMiation among the people, and as it
waa calculated that that of his wife would make
a still greater impression, it was resolved t<i exe-
cute her more privately withiu the walls of the
Tower. Mary showed what she and all Catholics
considered a laudable anxiety for the soul of this
youthful ncriiice, and Fecknam, a very Catholic
dean of St PauFs, tormented her in her last
hoon with argumenla and dispntatioas ; but it
appaan that she was steadfast in the faith which
she had embraced, and the doctriuee of which
she bad studied under learned teachers witb uu>
usual care. Ou the dreadful morning she had
the strength of mind to decline a meeting with
her husband, saying that it would rather foment
their grief than be a comfort in deatb, and that
they should shortly meet in a better place and
more happy estate. She even saw him conducted
towards Towerbill, and, with tbe same settled
spirit that was Sied upon immortality, she beheld
hia headless trunk when it was returned to be
buried in the chapel of the Tower. By this time
her own scafibld, made upon the green within
thevergeof the Tower, waaall ready; and almost
as soon as her husband's body passed towards
the chapel the lieutenant led her forth, she being
"in countenance nothing oast down, neither her
eyes anything moistened with tears, although her
gentlewomen, Elizabeth Tilney and Idistress He-
len, wonderfully wept." She had a book in her
hand, wherein she prayed uutil ahe came to the
scaffold. From that platform she addressed a
few modest words to the few by-standers, stat-
ing that ahe had justly deserved her ponishmeut
for suffering herself to be made the instrument.

though unwillingly, of the ambition of othen,
and that she hoped her fata mi^bt serve as s
memorable example in after times. Sbe then
implored God's mercy, caused hereelf to be dis-
robed by her gentlewomen, veiled her own eyes
with her handkerchief, aud laid faer head on tbe
block, exhorting the lingering ezeoationer to tbe
performance of his office. At last the axe tell,
and her lovely head rolled away from the body,
drawing teara from the eyes of the apectrtors,
yea, even of those who, from the vvry banning,
were beat affected to Queen Mary's canae.*

The father of lAdy Jane, the Duke of Suffolk,
who had been beaten and taken, like a blunder-
ing schoolboy, and who was not worthy of the
child whom his ambition and imbecility sacri-
ficed, was tried on the 17th of February. He
went to Westminster Hall with a cheerful and a
very stout countenance, but at hia return he was
very pensive and heavy, desiring all men to pray
for him. There was need, for he was condemned
to die the death of a traitor, and there waa no
hope of another pardon for this man, whose
"facility to by-practicee " had occasioned all or
most of these troubles. On tbe 23d of February,
eleven days after the execution of bin daughter
and son-in-law, he waa publicly beheaded on
Tower-hill. Other executions and numerous
committals took place while Elizabeth lay in that
state priaon. Sir Thomas Wyalt met his fate
with great fortitude on the Ilth of April, so-
lemnly declaring in his last moments that neither
the I^cess Elizabeth nor Courtenay was pri>^'
to his plans. About a fortnight after this eie-
cutiou. Lord Thomas Grey, brother to the late
Duke of Suffolk, was beheaded on Towerhill;
and a little later, the learned William Thomas.
late clerk of the council, who had attempted sm-
cide in (iie Tower, was conveyed to Tyburn, and
there hanged, headed, and quartered.

Several times Elisabeth fanded that ber last
hour was come. Early in the month of May the
constable of the Tower was discharged of bit
office, and Sir Henry Bedingfield, a bigoted and
cruel man, was appointed in bis stead. This new
constable went suddenly to the fortress with IW
soldiers: the princess, marvellously diecomforted,
aaked of the persons about her whether the lad.V
Jane's scaffold were taken down or not, fearing
that her own turn waa come. The circumitanre
of Bediogfield'a appointment seemed very sus-
picious : seventy years before Sir James Tyrw'
had been suddenly substituted for Sir Bobert
Brackenbury, and in tbe night of mystery and
liorror that followed lyrrell's arrival in the
Tower, the two prineea of the bouse of Vork
had disappeared, and, as it waa generally ^
iieved, had been savagely murdered in their bed.

,v Google

*.D. 1053—1354.] MA

But Elizabeth's fears were groundleiiai her sister
had no intention of takin;; her life; and a few
dajs after, on the 19th of U*.y, the rojal captive
wae oonTe jed by water from the Tower to Rich-
mond : from Richmond she was removed to
Windaor, and from Wiodaor to Woodstock, where

WoooetocK, H nlitlDi ji.d. 1T14.

she was finally fixed under the vigilant eyea of
the severe and auspicious Bedingfield. Six days
after her Liberation, Courtenay, Earl of Devon,
was delivered out of the Tower and sent down
to Fotberingay CastJe, where he waa watched
with equal vigilance. Meanwhile preptu-atious
were making for the queen's marriage, and the
people of London occasionally gave unequivocal
proofs of their hatred of it, and of the changes
introduced in the national religion. OnoneSun-
day in June, as Dr. Pendleton was preaching Pa-
pistry at Paul's Cross, he was shot at and nearly
killed. A little before, the oourt and clergy were
greatly enraged at finding a cat, with her head
shorn and dressed like a Roman priest, hanged
on a gallows in Cheapside ; and a little after, a
still more violent excitement waa produced by a
poor weDch who played the part of a spirit, aod
anticipated some of the impositions of the Cock
Lads ghost, " expressing certain seditious words
against the queen, the Prince of Spain, the mass,
confession, &c."'

On the 19th of July, Philip, Prince of Spain,
arrived in Soathampton Water. As the Connt
of ]E^ont, one of hia ambassadors, had been
violently assaulted some short time before by
the people, who took him for his master, Philip
came well attended with a body-guard and troops,
KoA he lingered a few days at the place of his
disembarkation, a« if in order to ascertain the
bumour of the nation. There was a little cir-

VOL. II.

>«»■.

RY. 57

cumstance which did not seem exactly calculaleil
to give him confidence. The Lord-admiral of
Enghmd fired at the Spanish navy when Philip
was on board, because they had not lowered their
topsails as a mark of deference to ^e Snglisli
navy in the narrow seas. Four days after his
arrival the prince travelled to
Winchester, and there he was met,
on the following morning (it being
a wet day), by his mature bride
Mary, who look no pains to con-
ceal her impatience, being enabled
in her conscience to plead her
A anxiety for a legitimate and holy
^ Roman succession as the only
means of securing the faith in
England. They had a long familiar
talk, and, on the feast of St. Jamea,
the titular saint of Sp^n — their
nuptials were celebrated at Win-
chester with great pomp.

Uary bad summoned parliament
some three months before her
husband's arrivah both houses
showed that they were stili jealous
of the Spaniard, and theyadopteil
further precautions to prevent
hia ruling aa a king in England. Philip brought
large sums of money with him ; but even money
could not win bim the good-will of the corrupt
courtiers. In a word, no one loved him but
Mary ; and the fondness of a sick and exces-
sively jealous wife was anything but agreeable.
He soon showed ber the real motives of hia mar-
riage, which ware, to become absolute maater of
England, to wear the crown as if in his own
right, and to dispose of all the resources of the
country in his schemes of aggrandizement on the
Continent. Though a bigot, he was certainly
less anxious abont the qoestion of religion. Mary
would have gratified bim at the sacrifice of the
interests and liberties of her people: she sum-
moned a new parliament, and Delected no meann
likely to render it compliant. The Spanish gold
waa distributed with a liberal hand; and, imitat-
ing the precedent of former reigns, she wrote
circular letters, commanding and imploring that
the counties and boroughs would return such
members as were wholly devoted to her interests
and pleasures. This parliament met at West-
rainster on the ISth of November : the lords
being as aubservient as ever^the commons con-
sisting wholly of Catholics or of men indifferent
to the great question of religion. Both houses
were ready to second the queen's bigotry, always
with the old exception that she ahonld by no
means force them to surrender the temporal
fruita of their Ute schism. In the preceding par-
liament, Marr had thought it prudent to retaiu

U4

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil akd Uiutabt.

the title of Supreme Head of the Chnrch ; bal
now she resolved to obtain ft repeal of the ftct
passed in the time of her father, which irrevoija-
blj annexed that title to the crown. The jealou*
possessors of ftbbey lands and monaatic property
■aw a long way bejond this mere renunciation
of a title; aad they would not repeal the Act of
Supremacy, until the queeu caused to be sub-
mitted to them the pope's explicit confirmation
of the abbej lands to their new proprietors, which
confii-mation had been conceded from a coHTic-
tioD that he mult either receive the English peni-
tents on their own terms or lose them altogether.
The pope's coDfirmatioa wu delivered through
Cardinal Pole, the new legate for England, whoae
attainder had been reversed by the present par-
liament. With their minds thus set at ease as to
their goods and chattels,' both houses w^n won-
derfully compliant in matters of faith. They
listened with contrite countenances to an iuvita-
tiou from the lord-cardinal to return to the bosonj
of holy mother church; they voted an address to
Philip and Mary, acknowledging their repentance
of the schism in which they had been living, de-
claring their readiness to repeal all laws enacted
in prejudice of the only true church, and implor-
ing their majesties and the lord-cardinal to inter-
cede with the pope for their absolution and for-
giTeness. Oardiner presented this petition to
Pole, and Pole, in the name of the pope, forth-
with gave full absolution to the parliament and
whole kingdom of England; and tJiU being done,
they all went to the royal chapel in procession,
singing Te tham. Without the least hesitation
parliament revived the old brutal laws against
heretics, enacted statutes against seditious words,
and made it treason to imagine or attempt the
death of Philip during his marriage with the
queeu. But when Mary's minister proposed that
Philip should wear, if not the royal, at least
matrimonial crown, they showed a resolute op-
position, and the queen was obliged to drop the
project of his coronation, as well as that of getting
him declaj^d presumptive heir to the en
Nor was she more snccesBful when the attempted
to obtain subsidies from the commons, in order

I that thB KngHah [a

g«nanl would hATfr ttunfld Jewi ot Tujki, If th4ir HTsnl^
o of tb* »bhiij UDdi V »b" c""™

iQ In the lundi of the raDwn, (Ht Hut fSO.OW i-i

Jaauada dt SoaWit! Sbk! Balbalttd: OadwU; lUidMl^
tu; EtTf: Jliiiwf.- TUtni MmiArt of Lord BvtUt).-^
in of Courtouij, BuL or Daran, nm&infid darmuit, fmm
ith 0( Ihij joniig ooblmuii, fcr nii»rlTtbrwo(iBtniim,tlll

pnint mxV For tha hlMaij oT the tunua s>t Cooitanij,

support her husband and the emperor in their
irs with France. Philip found it necessary to
court popularity, and recommended the release
of some of the most distinguished of the prisoners
in the Tower. The handsome Earl of Devon
received permiaaion to travel on the Continent,
but he died soon after (in 1M6) at Padua.*

In her exceeding anxiety for issue, Mary mis-
took the commencement of a dropsy for the sure
sign of pregnancy; and when Cardinal Pole was
introduced to her on his happy return to England,
she Fondly fancied that the child was quickened,
even as John the Baptist leaped in his motjier's
womb at the salutation of the Ytrgin ! On the
27th ot November the lord-mayor of London, with
the aldermen all in. scarlet, assembled according
to commandment in St. Paul's Church at nine
o'clock in the morning, and in a great fog or mist.
Dr. Chadsey, one of the prebends, preached in the
choir in the presence of Bonner, Bishop of London,
and nine other bishops; and, before he began, he
read a letter from the queen's council, the tenor
whereof was, that the Bishop of London should
send out certain forms of prayer,' wherein, after
thanksgiving to God for his great mercies to this
kingdom in giving hopes of an heir to the crown,
and infusing life into the embryo, they should
pray for the preservation of the queen and the
infant, and for her happy delivery, and cause Te
Deiim to be sung everywhere. But the business
did not end at St. Paul's Church : it was taken nji
in both houses of parliament^ and it gave great
occupation to the whole court " For then,"
says Godwin, "by parliament many things were
enacted concerning the education of the babe;
and much clatter was elsewhere kept about pre-
parations fur the child's swaddling-clothes, cradle,
and other things requisite at the delivery; until,
in June in the ensuing year, it was manifested
that all was little better than a dream." The
parliament, in fact, passed a law, which, in cane
of tbe queen's demise, appointed Philip protector
during the minority of the infant ; but this was
all that could be obtained in favour of the sus-
pected Spaniard ; and shortly after Mary dis-
solved the parliament in tU-Uumour.*

wittr," with itroDgth uid Tklcu

keap down tho henUn.
• [t ipiHui from Ktifm wIU, wUdi <n> diMd Ui> SMb or

lo thit tinu, iJie wu oanflflaiLt of bviDg fiwriiiU, (Or riw nuda a
prorisiarx tOr Httllng tba oixtwa on har Ima. — Bir Fradaidk
Xndiiea, Pritf P%im Sepaua i^ lln Priacm Mttrji; IMrad. lit-
meir and Coff a} WIS, i» Appmlii.

»Google

•.D. ISM— 1956.]

CHAPTER XII.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1555-1558.

UABT.

CoDimanoaiiMnt of tba Uuud paneontloiu — The nurried priaU eompalLsd to do penuica — Eieontiou of Jolm
Bc^Bi, of Bubop HDop«T, of Bitbop Femr, of Dr. BowUnd Tftjloi, of William Bnoch— OUwr aiecatioDi—
Cradtica of tha Fapiih hiihop*, Gudioer tad BoniiU' — Trikl of Cnnmar, Bidlsy, mod Latiuivr — EiacuttoD
ot Ridl«r ftnd lAliuier— Their baluiTioar »t tha itkka — Philip luvaa EngUnd — Muy aluiiu tha holdan of
cbnrcli Unda — Damar of porliamuit in Totiog nippliaii — Dntli of Biibop Qtrdlner—Attanipta to nuke Cru-
mar racint — Hin nnntation — Tcokcheiy of hit atiamia — Hit exaentioo — Cftrdiuil Pola lowJe Archbiihop ot
CuitarbnTT — Fi«ab aiecntioris of Proteatuita— ^umrnuy of Popiih ■troaitiaa— Tra&tmeiit of PriDoen Eliza-
tMth — Bar politk complluicas— Coaipetitora for her huid— Crud panaoutiou of har tutor, Sir Joliii CbiliB —
Ad inqniiitorial eomiulBioa eatabliBltsd a^iut tlia Protsctuita— It> deipotio ponara Bad ioiquitooi prooaed-
in^ — InenMa ot immarKlit; with paneiiutioD — Abdioatiou of tha Emparoc Charlai V. — He ii niocesdad b;
bit aOD Philip— Deaign* uid coKlitiona of tba pope Kgainat Fbilip— Pbilip'a aocceaiai in Ital; — Be raririti
EogUod — Endnronn to psnnade England to go to war with Franca — Hii endakToora teconded b; an acci-
dast — Ha obtaina rainfoTcaments of Engliab troopa — Tbej diatiugaiab tbemMliaa at St. Qiuntm— Tha Dnka
of GdIh takaa tha commaDd of tba French armj-^Ua onsipectedlj iiiTaata CaUia — Cirelna dafencai of the
town— Calaii atormad, and its Enghih piiiaon couipalled to BUTaDdeT— Griaf ot tha Eagliih nation at tha
loaaof CaUia— MaiT of Oniae, Quean dowagei of Scotland — Becomaa RajaDt of Scotland— Eodeavoara tuaat
the Soota at war with England — Harriage of Mar?, ^ogbtar of Jamaa T., lo tba French dauphia — An Eng-
liab arm; iuvadea Frasce— Death of Qaeeo Mu7~Har character.

OK the Protertanta this year (1558)
opened most gloomily. The queen
sent Thomaa Thirlhy, the new Bi-
shop of Ely, the Lord Anthosy
MoDtacnte, irad Sir Edward Carne,
or Karue, nith a very honourable
tmin of geatlemen and others, as ambaasadon to
Rome, to confirm the reconciliatioii of the nation
with the Catholic church, and concert measures
for the promotion of the old religion, to the ez-
cloaion of all others. Bnt Uary wonted no
foreign advisers to urge her into the paths of
intolerance and persecution. The conviction
waa deeply settled in her heart's core, and in her
brain — and there wet« biahops of Engliah birth
to insist npon it — that toleration in religion only
l«d to indifference and the eternal perdition of
nien'a aonla — that any reconciliation of parties
or sects waa not to be thought of — that it was
the duty of religious princea to exterminate the
heretical infection — that the matt of tit people,^
After all, were attached to the discipline and
doctrine of the only true church ; and that those
of them who were not, would soon come bacic
into the right way if all the heretical portion of
the clergy, particularly the biahopn, were taken

' KotviUBtaadlsc tha pngnrH mad* br Uw RaftumaUon
iiaict Uw ihort n\ga of Edwmid VI., It la pnbabla that tUa
•talnnsit n> aoTTHt. In London, and tb* gnat oJUca gana-

Jl. Then aT^MAA, bo*-
D thia leapect untmg Uu

ao pari of England aoffend » moob
. . II, tfaoogh lb«7, Lb aADt, bad wft bar cm

Ibg thnna Dpon pnimlHa which bvUgotry oonld nerar pmmll

from tfaem, and treated with wholesome severity.
The prisoua were already crowded — the inquisi-
tors had only to choose their victims, and pre-
pare their stakes and fagots. There were several
preludes and preparations to accustom the people
to the degradation of theee spiritual teachers,
whom, only two years before, all had twen bound
by law to revere and obey. Some married priests,
who would not leave their wives, were sent in
procession round St. Rtul's Church with whit«
sheets over them, aud burning tapers and scoui^gea
in their hands ; and when this humiliating cere-
mony was over, they were publicly whipped.
These scenes were repeated in different parts of
the kingdom ; and the unlucky wives of clergy-
men were occauonally treated with equal con-
tumely.'

The revived statutes against heretics— that is
to say, the acts first passed against the I.>olIardB
in the times of Kchard II., Henry IV., and
Henry T.— were to take efiect from the SOth of
January (1550). Previous to that great day of
rejoicing, Bonner, with eight bishops and 160 or-
thodox priests, made a grand procession through
I«ndon to return thanks to the Almighty for
the sudden renewal of Divine grace in the land.
Then a commitsion sat in the church of St. K ary
Overy, Southwark, for the trial of Proteatauts.
^e first man brought before them was John
Rogers, a prebendary of St. Paul's, who had
been lying in Newgat« among CDt-throats and
desperadoes for more than a year. When qnea-
tioned and brow-beaten by hie judge, Rogers
pointedly asked, " Did not you, youi-self, for

Slotf.- Strjrp€.

»Google

60

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CtVIL AHD UtLITARI

tweut; years, pray ajpunst the popeT "I was
forced by cruelty," replied BiahopQe^iner. "And
will you use the like cruelty to ub?" taid Bogers.
The court sentenced him to the flames.' On the
night after Rogers' martyrdom in Smitlifield the
I'l-otestunt Bishop Hooper, one of the pillars of
ihe Reformed church, was told that he was to be
turned, not in Smithfield, however, but at Glou-
cester, among his own people ; and at Oloucester

Fnm

lie was burned in a alow fire on the 9th of Feb-
ruary. The same course was adopted odth Ro-
bei't Fernr, Bishop of St. David's, a rigid man
and of a rough behavioor, who was sent down
fi-oro London to his own diocese, where he was
burned alive on the 30th of March. About the
same time fires were lighted in other parte of th»
kingdom. On the eaatern side, on the very day
that Bishop Hooper was burned at Gloucester,
Dr. Rowland Taylor, who had lived for some
time in the family of Archbishop Oranmer, who
preferred him to the rectory of Hadleigh, i
Suffolk, was burned in that town. This Tayli
was one of the boldest of those who suffered for
conscience sake, and, tike nearly every one of
those Protestant martyrs, he was a man of hum-
ble birth. From this Rowland Taylor descended
the eloquent, the learned, the great and am'
Jeremy Taylor, the antagonist of the Cliurch of

Rome, and yet the advocate of toleration — one of
the first and best of that holy band who taught
that God was not served by the torment of his
rUres. The now prevalent fanaticism of the
Papists occaaionally awoke a like spirit oa the
part of the Protestants. On Easter Da7, the
most solemn festival of the Roman chorcb, one
William Branch, or Flower, who had once been
a monk of Ely, but who had embraced the Re-
formed religion, stabbed a priest as he was «d-
ministeriQg the sacrament to the people iu the
manner of Rome in the church of St. Margaret's,
Westminster. No crime could be so frig:htfi)l
as this in the eyes of the Catholics : there was
no hope of escaping from a crowded church,
and the enthusiast does not appear to have at-
tempted it. On the S4th of April his lacrtle-
giov* right hand was cut ufT, and then, " for
opinioDB in matters of religion," he was burned
in the sanctuary near to St. Margaret's Cbarch-

Ihiring tlie festivities of Easter the Princess
Elizabeth was summoned to court, that she might
congratulate the queen, who bad taken her cham-
ber at Hampton (Jourt, to he ddivered ; and it
should seetu that Elizabeth acquittod hetsslf
very dei:terously on this delicate occasion. Blit,
to r«tum to the chief business of this deplorable
reign, John Cardmaker, chancellor of the chuaeb
of Wells, was burned at London on the last day
of May; and John Bradford suffered the same
cruel death at the same place about a month
later. A little before, or a little after theae
execuUous iu the capital, Thomas Hawkes, an
Essex gentleman, was burned at Coggeshall ;
John I^wrence, a priest, at Colchester ; Toni-
kina, a weaver, at Shoreditch ; Pigott, a butcher,
at Braintree ; Knight, a Imrber, at Maldon ; and
Hunter, an apprentice to a silk-weaver, at Brent-
Bishop Gardiner, the chancellor, who waa far
ieaa cruel than many, BOOn grew weary of pre-
siding in the horrible court at the church of St.
Mary Overy: he withdrew as early as the month
of Februaiy, when his duties devolved on an
apt«r spirit, Bonner, Bishop of London, who poe-
seeaed all the essentials for an inquisitor and fa-
miliar of the Holy Office iu a greater degree than
any Englishman we ever heard of. This prelate
sat iu the consistory of St. Paul's, where the

-; eodwin: KuU.' Daptttlia i</ Soailla, Um PnoiA

lieoiil*, bat ODD KltotMha' dlBtei
UuT uid bar bUhopa upaotaL :
■nji. "Thli difths nmSnuCIon

jiriiiV to titer'*'™- '

I Hoopo wu bnnild i
In GICFiuadar. The q»l co whli
nulad. lonf pdntad out bf tndltion, ^
utnsd In Hit, ^ BndliK Dpon II tbe n
■tiik* to whMi ha had bam >ttKb«L It Uoow murtid b]

9T fait ot the people

» (tar to (It* him
•ndanohliiahllclnii

,v Google

4.C. lW5-155a] MA

lord-niKfor &nd certun of the kldennen wer«
forced to ftttend. In thia court he could, with
eaat Mid gT«ftt comfort to hinuelf, condemn men
to the flames at the nte of h&lf a dozen anlay;
but even Bonner waa too alow for tie govern-
ment; the privy council kept continually urging
him- forward in this frightful peraecution; and
Mary and her husband addreesed to him one
letter (if not more), aa if even he wanted exeite-
luent to the proaecution of heretics.' Cardinal
Pole, whose moderation and mercy caiuad him to
be Mupected at Bome of entertaining himself
some heretJcal notions, in vain endeavoured to
atop the desti'octive torrent, and to prove to
Alary and her government that the practice of
peraecutjon was not only highly dangerous to
theowelves but the acandal of all religion.

Ever aiaee the month of March of the preced-
ing year, Cnuuner, Ridley, uid Latimer, had been
nmoved from the Tower to Oxford. The tno
latter, like the primate, had favoured the usnr-
jiation of the lAdy Jane ; and Ridley with great
spirit, houeatly avowed that ha bad acted with
Ilia eyea open — that be had never been actuated
liy fear of Northumberland or of any one else,
but merely by a conviction that that step was

necessary and indispensable for ^e preservation
of the Protestant religion. If Cranmer had had
the Mine deoisioa and courage, it is pouibU that
affaiis might have taken a different turn, or,
At the worst, he would have had a better excuse
lo plead than that of lus having gone into the
■cheme of excluding Mary against his conscience,
being ovei-powered by the importunities of the
dying Edward. Ridley, and I^timer also, were

■ Airwf; Krypt; BaUuii, Omd. tM. BnniM giTs

BY. 61

amenable to the same charge of treason as Cran-
mer; but for very evident purposes it was re-
solved to sink this offence in the more awful
charge of heresy. The timid character of tlie
primate was well known, and the Catholic party
seem to have considered it possible to force all
three to recant.

On tiie 14th of A]iril, about five weeks after
their first arrival at Oxford, they were brought
out of their prisons to SL Mary's Church, where
questJouB relating to transubstantiation, and the
efficacy of the mass as a sacrifice and propitia-
tion for the sins of quick and dead, were sub-
mitted to them. They were allowed to debate
these points in public, and, if they could convince
their mortal enemies, then their prison gates
would be opeued But ths orthodox controver-
sialists did not give tbemeelves the trouble to
preserve even the t^jpeanuice of fair play; they
would allow their opponents no books — no time
for preparation— nor would they let them argue
together. Cranmer was to face alone their entire
battery on the 16th of April, Ridley on the 17th,
and Latimer on the 18th. On the dayappointed
Cranmer appeared before the consistory as-
sembled in the divinity school, and, with more
courage than had been expected from him, he
proceeded to support the tenets which he hod
taught ; but there were many voices to one ; the
doctors called him unlearned, unskilful, ignoraat;
and the Oxfcn^l scholars very generally hissed
and hooted, and clapped their hands, whenever
he advanced any opinion they disliked. On the
following day Ridley appeared in the same place,
and met with much the same treatment; but
Ridley had more nerve than Cranmer, and more
learning than IjUioier, and to him ie generally
attributed the glory of the contest on the Pro-
testant side. But he might as well have held
his tongue, for, whenever he pressed them closely
with on argumentative sytlugism, they all lifted
up their voices against bim together. " I have
but one tongue," cried Ridley; " I cannot answer
at once to you all." When poor Latimer was
brou^t up to be baited on the following day,
he was so weak and faint that be could scareelv
stand. In spite of the persecutions which he
hod himself directed when the current ran in a
different direction, his appearance was calculated
to excite sympathy in every breast except those
of CMitroversiolists and dogmatists. "Ha ! good
master," said the aged prelate to one of his judges,
" I pray ye be good to an old man. You may be
once as old as I am ; you may come to this age,
and this debility." Cranmer and Ridley had
disputed in Latin, but Latimer spoke in his mo-
ther tongue, and was the better understood. But
they would not permit him to proceed without
frequent interruptions ; and the Oxford scholars

,v Google

62

HISTORY OF ENGLAKD.

[Cn

L ADD MlUTABT.

hiaacA and hooted and laughed &t him, making
altogether such a din that the dJTinity school
looked more like a bear-garden than a scene ap-
pointed for the discuaaion of dogmas deemed
essential to the salvation of men's souls. Poor
Latimer, a man of humble birth, and wmple, if

HOOH LlTiMDi, Biihop of Womstar.— Fnm ii

not rustic mauners, said, with a naivefl vbich
would be amusing in other circumstances, that in
his time and da; he had spoken before two great
kings more tltiui once, for two or three hours
together, without interruption ; " but now,* be
added, " if I may apeak the truth, by your leaves,
I cannot be suffered U> declare uty mind before you,
no, not by the space of a quarter of an hour, with-
oi.t snatches, revitingB, checks, rebukes, taunts,
Buch as I have not felt the like in such an audi-
ence all my life long." On the 2tith of April he
waa again, together with Ridley and Cranmer,
brought up to St Mary's Church. They were
asked by the commisaionera whether they would
now turn or not; but they bade them read od, in
the name of God, for that they were not minded
ro turn ; and so were they condemned all three 1
For various reasons the execution of their sen-
tence was suspended for nearly eighteen months,
nod at the eud of that period (on the 16th of
October, 1S55), Ridley and I&timer were led to
the stake without Cranmer, who remained in
jirison five months longer. In the ditch on the
north side of the pleasant town of Oxford, and
over against Boliol College, a great stake was
erected. It was usual to preach a sermon to the
heretics before burning them I and one Dr. Smith,
who, for interest or fear, had renounced Popery
iu King Edward's time, and who was now all the
more zealous on that account, mounted the pulpit
on this occasion, and delivered a vehement dis-
course on the teit-— " Though I give my body to
be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth
nothing.* When the sermon was over Ridley
stripped himself for the fire, giving away his ap-
piirel, a new groat, some uutmegH and bits of gin-

ger, a dial, and such other few things as he had
about him; and among tbe by-standera were men
too happy to get any rag of him. In the help-
lesanees of old age I^timer had left it to hia
keeper to strip him; but when he stood up in Ait
ihrmtd, erect and fearless, by the aide of the
fagote, he seemed, in the eyes of some of the b»-
holders, to be no longer the withered and decrepit
old man, "but as comely a father as one might
lightly behold," Ridley was tied first to the
stake. As tiiey were chiuniag I^dmer to the re-
erse of the stake, the hardy old roan excWmed,

Be of good comfort, Master Ridley, and play
le man ; we shall this day light such a candle,
by God's grace, iu England, as I trust shall never

put out.* Then the flames arose, and Latimer

B soon seen te expire in the midst of them ;

t Ridley's sufferings were long and dreadful.
The Lord Williams of Thame, the vice-chanoel-
ler of the university, the other commisaionera
appointed by the court, and a multitude of Ox-
ford scholara and gentlemen, stood by and wit-
nessed the whole, and for the most part with
pious and complacent countenances, like men
that felt the happy assurance that they wer«
doing God service. But there were other spee-
tatora who looked on with very different eyea.
The fortitude of the sufferers confirmed Pro-
testante in their faith ; every execution made
some converts, and went to awaken a thorough
and most lasting abhorrence of the persecuting
church.'

About six weeks before these executions at
Oxford, King Philip passed over to the Conti-
nent, in no very good humour with our island, for
he found that he had in a manner thrown himself
away in a marriage with a disagreeable woman.
Uaty'e uucomforteble fondness seemed to increase
with his absence: she wrote him tender letters, to
which he seldom replied, except when he wished
her to obtun money for his use from her parlia-
ment; and he entertained his courtiers (if not a
miati«ss) with unmanly criticisms on his wife's
person and manners. On the Slst of October,
five days after the death of Ridley and lAtJmer,
the parliament met in a mood less obseqnions
than usual, and the queen, in her anxiety te
serve the Chureh of Rome, excited a somewhat
stormy opposition. Some months before, in her
ardent zeal for the pope, she had the imprndeoce
to consult certain members of the privy council
touching the restoration of all the abbey hmds in
England, which she told them she considered had
been taken away from their proper owuen in
time of schism, and that by unlawful means, and
such as were coutrary both to the intereste of
Qod and of the church. She told them that, for
her own part, she considered a

> eirjpi.- Fot; Otdmi

»Google

jj). ISM— 1558.] MA

tender of what the crown hftd received eHsential
to MlvatiOD. From her rehemence it was ex-
pected that she would press for the Hutrender of
the lands lij whomsoever held, and on this head
the sensitive psrli&meDt were never at their ease
during the short remainder of her reign. But
during the present sesuon she ontj required titem
to l^«lize her restor-
ing the first-fruits uid
tenths, and tbu impro-
priations vested in the
crown. Even to this
parliament objected ;
ftnd when the commons
same to vot« supplies, it
was asked, with some
violence, what justice
there wu iu bixing the
mbjert to relieve the
sovereign's necessities,
when she refused to
svaii herself of funds
legally at her disposal I
— and it was also sug-
gested that the Catholic
clergy, who were grow-
ing rich by the royal
libei«lity, ought to
make large sacrifices for
the relief of their bene-
factress. At last tlie
house passed the sup-
plies, but with a consi-
derable deduction from
the amount originally
propoBMl ; and they also -
passed the bills about
the first - fruits, and
tenths, and impropria-
tions, but in such a
spirit aa showed that it
would be unsafe to urge
them to further conces-
uons in that direction.
After a short session,

Uieqneea dissolved par- ^" S*"™Ji^

lisment on the Sth of r™«'

December.' Daring the session Bishop Qftr-
diner, the chancellor, had gone to his final ac-
count. He attended at the opening of the houses,
and displayed his usual ability and energy ; but
on the Uiird day bis bodily sufferings obliged him
to qnit his post, and he expired of a painful dis-

' Thit Bobli DDOiiuiinit, dadguad to

I ■ totkl haighl of
n g( at, OUh Btnn. H|)oii>ii>E
id tha DulToil^ GiUarls, Oifoid.

ST. 63

ease on the 12th of November. The great sent
was given to another ecclesiastic — to Heath,
ArchbiBliopot York; but, though keen in the per-
secuting of Protestants, the new chancellor had
not the talent and address of the old one.

Meanwhile (A.D. 1556) Mary's ncthankful hus-
band kept presuug her for money, and atill more
money. Tomakeuptor
the scanty supplies vo-
ted by parliament, she
and her new chancellor
had recourse to a variety
of illegal and violent
expedients. All the
money was spent as soon
as got ; the mass of it
went to her husbaud or
to Home.

It appears that the
court <»]culated that
wheu Cnuuner should
be no longer supported
by the more courageous
spiiit of Kidley and
I^timer, he would tem-
poiize,aa he had so often
done before, and, in the
fear of death, take such
steps as would cover
himself with infamy aiiil
bring discredit on the
whole Protestant party ;
and that for these ex-
press reasons he vas left
alive. It sliould be
mentioned, however,
that there were other
reasons, and that, aa a
metropolitan, his case
was reserved for the
pope himself, the tri-
bunal which had des-
patched the two suSrS'
gan bishops not being
competent, in canonical
u OiroHD.' lawj to take cognizance

of it. By a grievous
mockery the pope cited this ctoB« prisoner at
Oxford to appear at Rome and answer for hia
heresies. At the end of the eighty days, having
taken no care, as it was said in the Papal in-
strument, to appear at fiome, he was pronounced
guilty, and Bonner, Bishop of London, and Tbirl-
by, Bishop of Ely, were appointed conunisBioners
to degrade him, and to see the sentence executed
upon him. Cnuuner, who was delivered over to
the secular power — for by a delicate fiction the
persecuting church was never the executor of
its own sentences — trembled at the near ap-

b^tlKknu

,v Google

64

HISTOltY OF ENOLAND.

[Civ

U MlUIART.

proach of a horrible death, and betrayed that
weakness upon which hia enemies had calcuUted.
He had written iu abject terms to the queen be-
fure, and, hy receiving the viaita in hia cell, and
listening to the ai'gumenta of a learned Spanish
monk— a certain friar Soto — and other Catholics,
be aeems to bave wished that it should be be-
lieved he was still open to convictioD. He now
renewed bis applicaUons for mercy, and turned
u readj ear to those who suggested that mercy
might be obtained, though only bj recantation.
It was a vital point with bis enemies to lead him
to this; and, if (he truth ia told, they proceeded
with a dexterity and malice truly infernal, eoft-
euiug the liardBfaips of his captivity, which raigbt
have rendered death less terrible, and giving him
again to taste of the pleasures of life. They
removed htm to the house of the dean of Christ-
church, where he fared delicately, and was allowed
to play at bowls and walk about at his pleasure.
Not to dwell upon this miserable scene, in which,
after all, Cranmer excites rather pity and com-
passion than contempt, and in which he is far
-more eaaHy excused than in many others of hia
preceding career, he formally renounced the faith
he had taught, and, as his enemies were not satis-
fied with his signature to one scroll, he signed
recantation after recantation until the number
amounted to sii ! ' But if we make a charitable
and a proper allowance for the weakness of human
nature in the case of the victim, we can make
none for the diabolical malice of his peraecutora,
who, when they had thus, as they conceived,
loaded him with eternal obloquy, led him to tlie
stake. While the monks and the learned doctor*
at Oxford were in great jubilee at having brou^t
down to the very mire one of the proudest co-
lumns of the Reformed church, Mary sent secret
orders to Dr. Cole, provost of Eton College, to
prepare his condemned sermon. On the 21st of
March the prisoner was brought up to St Hary's
Church, where Cole explained in the aarmon that
repentance does not avert all punishment, as ex-
amples in the Bible proved; that Cranmer had
done the church and the Boman Cathohca so
much mischief that he must die; and that their
majeBtiea had, l>eBideB, other good reasons for
burning him. The fiUlen Primate of England
had learned the day before what was Intended for
him, and, having no longer the slightest hope of
life, he seems to have summoned up resolution to
meet his inevitable doom like a man. Some lew
men — their number was wonderfully small oon-
aideriug that death of torture— had recanted
when brought to the stake and offered the queen's
pardon on that condition; but it was not to be
expected that any one would do so when there
waa no ofer of pardon, bat, on the contrary, a

■ StiTpn hu pnbliitwd tham il

certain assurance of death. Accordingly, Cran-
mer acted as every man would have done in the
like situation ; he renounced the pope and all hia
doctriues— he gave a brief summary of his real
faith~he protested against the atrocioiiB means
which had been used— be accused himaaU of hav-
ing, from fear of death, sacrificed truth and his
conscience by subscribing the raeantationo. It was
not convenient to permit him to miUce a long ad-
dress ; he was soon polled down from the plat-
form in the church on which be stood, and horriad
away to the same ditch, over against Baliol Col-
lege, where his more fortunate friends, Ridley
and lAtimer, had suffered five months before.
He was stripped to the shirt, and tied to the
stake: be made no moan or uaelees prayer for
mercy in this world : the deal^ which he liad ao
dreadedj and for so long a time, seemed le«
dreadful when he saw it faoe to fara. As soon as
the flames began to rise he thmst into them his
right hand — that erring hand which had ngned
the recantations.' The Bomiah church of Eng-
land, with all its absolute hopes, may almost be
said to have perished iu the flames that conramed
Cranmer. The impression made by his martyrdom
was immense, and as lasting as it waa wide and
deep. On the side of the Catholics, tbe patting
him to death waa as gross an error in policy as
it waa atrocious and detestable as a crime.

On the very day after Craomer's death, Oardi-
nal Pole, who bad now taken priest's orden, waa
eonsecnted and installed Archbisbop of Canter-
bury. But, though primate and Papal legate,
and fully ooovinced of tlie atrocity and worse
than naelessness of persecution, he coold not
change the temper of 4he queen, nor stay the
bloody hands of her favourites and ministera.
Paul IV., who now wore the tiara, bad been bis
personal enemy; and Pole, who apparently had
Dot more courage than Cranmer, seems to have
stood in awe of his fierce and intolerant spirit.
On tbe S7th of June thirteen peraone, being con-
demned for opinions concerning the sacrmmeat,
were burned at Stratford-le-Bow.' "Neither did
the cruelty of the persecutors exercise its^ on
the living only : the bones of Uartin Bucer and
Paul Phagius, long since dead, were dug up, for-
mally accused of heresy, and, no man undertaking
their cause (as who durst?}, condemned, and pub-
licly burned in tbe market-place at Cambridge.
And Pet«r Martyr's wife, who died at Oxford,
waa disinterred, and with barbarous and inhuman
spit« buried in a dunghill." '

In order that we may not have to return to
this revolting subject, we will here throw to-
gethera few other incidents, in completion of the
picture of Mary's persecutioua. From the mar-

.- Buml; airypi; Blimt, SMc* t^Mf X(An«ttm.

»Googie

AJ). 1535—1568.] UA

^rdom of John Hogers, who AoSered on the 4th
of Febnuuy, IfiSS, about six months after M&ry's
ttcceaaion, to the firehutvictima, who were bomed
Rt Canterbniy on the 10th of November, 1658,
0017 seven days before her de&th, not fewer than
£68 individuab, among whom were five bishops,
tweDtjTi-oae clergymen, fiftjr-five women, and four
diildren, were burned in different places for
their religious opinions; and, in addition to these,
there were several hundreds who were tortured,
ruined in their goods and estates, and many poor
and friendless victims that were left to die of
hunger in their priaons. WHh the exception of
some tew of the churchmen, these individuals
were almost entirely of the middling or humbler
rlrmnm thr lich and great, aa we have noticed,
and as has been observed by several writers be-
fore na, showing little disposition to martyrdom.
Only eight laymen of the rank of gentlemen are
named; but it would be unjust to represent all
the aristocrat^ as supple hypocrites, though they
did not eipioee themselves voluntarily to perM-
cution. The Earls of Oxford and Westmoreland
and Lord Willoughby got into trouble, and were
censured by the councU for religion ; and the
second Earl of Bedford suffered a abort imprison-
ment. Among those who were said to have
"contemptuously gone over the seas,' there were
several persons of rank, whose property and in-
tereete suffered during their forced travels on tiie
Continent. Other individuals, who held profit-
able places under government, voluntarily re-
signed them, and retired to the obscurity of a
country life. The politic Cecil, who in heart and
in head detested the coarse pursued, which he saw
to be as bad in a political aa in
a rdigious light, conformed out-
wardly to what he could not re-
sist ; and it is said that he drew
the line of conduct for the Prin-
cess Elizabeth, recommeuditig
humility and obedience, and cer-
tain compliances with the times.
But it is quite certain that Blizn-
beth pOBseased a natural turn bo th
for simulation and diBsimDlation,
and that she scarcely stood in
need of a guide and instructor in
these particulars. She opened a
chapel in her house, as com-
nanded; she entertained mass
priests; she kept a large crud
fix constantly suspended in hei
chamber ; she worked with her HaTiuin

own hands garments for saints
and Madonnas ; and, when permitted to visit
the court, and take part in Uie entertainments,
she also, as a price paid therefor, accompanied
the queen in her religious processions, which
Voi- 11.

■tT. 65

wtm conduet«d with great pomp, and in her visit*
to the re-Catholicised churches, which were in
part restored to more than their ancient mag-
nificence.' Elizabeth suffered more annoyance
and persecution in the way of matrimony than
on account of relifpon. Philip, who. was most
anxious to remove her by marriage out of the
kingdom, proposed, and in feet inusted that she
should give her hand to the Duke of Savoy,
who came into England to press his own suit;
but the princess obstinately refused, and had the
art or good fortune to gun over to her side her
sister Mary, who rarely opposed the wishes of her
husband. Soon after the King of Sweden tried
to obtMn her hand for his eldest son Eric The
Swedish amliassador intrusted with this delicate
mission was directed by his sovereign to make
his application directly to Elizabeth herself, by
a message in which neither the queen nor her
council was at preseut to participate. Elisabeth,
who confidently looked to the succession of the
English crown, aa one well aware of the state of
Mary's health and of her own great popularity
with a lai^ portion of the nation, not only re-
jected the suit, but resolved to turn the gallant
and generous mode in which it was opened by
the Swede to her own immediate advaiitage. She
declared that she could never liateu to any over-
tures of this nature which had not previously
received the sanction of ber majesty. Her ma-
jesty was charmed at this declaration, and the two
sisters thenceforward lived in tolerable friend-
Bhip. Elizabeth, who lavished her protestations
of gratitude for the queen's goodness — her ac-
knowledgments that fihe was bound to honour

-From Hall'i BuninlAl HaJbi.

serve, love, and obey her highness in all thiugs

— passed the greater part of the remainder of her

aiater's reign at her pleasant manor of Hatfield,

I RdaHiau, b; Kichde, th* Vsnrtlu unbuHdar; Dapiat*m

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil ahd Miutabt.

with few privations, and no penonal hftrdahipH
to endure. A tender heart might hars been
r»cked uid tortured bj the fote of others; uid
in one partienlar caae the rojall; doll feelings of
Elizabeth most have been touched. Sir John
Cheke, one of the finest scholars of that period —
one of the best of men if he had risen above the
intolerance and persecuting Hpirit of hia age, had
been fveceptor to her brother King Bdmrd, knd
had assisted in her own education. Sir John
got free from the Tower, into which he was
thrown for the part he had taken in the affair of
lAdf Jane Orej, but alt his landed property was
confiscated. Having obtained her majeaty's per-
iniBsioD to travel on the Continent for a limited
period, he went to Switzerland. Led by bis love
of classical lore, he crossed the AIpe into Italy,
and even visited Botne, the head-quarters of the
reb'gion which he had attacked. la the begla-
ning of 15fi6 he reached Strasburg, whence be
addressed a letter to his dear friend and brother'
in-law, Sir William Cecil, imploring him t« hold
fast his Frot«stiuit faith. From Strasburg Sir
John Oheke privately repaired on a visit to his
two learned friends Lord Paget and Sir John
Hason, who were then Mary's ambassadors in
Flandera. Both these men were recent court
converts to Catholicism, and Paget had testified
great zeal. On bis retnni, between Brussels and
Antwerp, Gbeke, with his companion Sir Peter
Oarew, was arrested by a provoat.marshal of
King Philip, bound hand and foot, thrown into
a cart, and conveyed to a veaael which wae about
to tuH for England. It seems titat his leave of
absence had expired, and that there was no new
political offence to be alleged against him except
hisnot returning home at the time fixed. But tn
these cruel jnoceedinga the queen and her hus-
band, and the zealots of their party, aimed at a
high object. Cheke, though a laynuui, had done
almost as much as Cranmer in consolidating the
Protestant church, and it was resolved to force
him to recant. Gagged and mufSed, be was
thrown into the Tower, and, to escape the stake
and the miseries to which he was subjected, he
ugned three ample recuntations, and publicly
proclaimed his acceptance of all the tenets and
doctrinca of the Boman eborch. But this was
not de«med price enough for a liberation from
priaon to riiAiae and obloquy : he was made to
applaud the heavenly mercy of his peneeators;
nay, it is said that he was obliged to take his
seat on the bench by the side of Bishop Bonner,
and assist that English inquisitor in sentencing
his brother ProteBtants to the fiames at Bmithfield.
Shame, remor«e,and affliction caused this accom-

>/ KrmillH, tha Fnedi imbuador Th* '

ta OmitoiioMaUTM),

plished man to die in the forty-seventh yearof
his age of a death more terrible than baming-.

Although the Inquisition never obtained a
name or formal establiahment in England, all the
worat practices of that institution ware adopted.
An ecclenastieal oommission was appointed, with-
out authority of parliament, for the efibctoal ex-
tirpation of herepy. The oommissionara were
empowered to inquire into all heresies, either by
presentments, by witneaees, ch- by any other poli-
tical way they could devise— to seize the bringen
in, the sellers, the readers of all heretical booko —
to examine and pitnish ail misbehaviour ia any
cbnrch or cbtqiel, and negligence in attending
maao, confession, and the rest — to by all prieata
that did not preach pure Roman orthodoxy —
and if they foand any that did obstinately per-
sist in their hereaies, they were to pat tlian into
the hands of their ordinaries, to be pimiahed ac-
cording to the spiritual laws. The oommisuon^
had also full power to break open houaea, to
search premises, to compel the attendanceof wit-
nesses, "and to force them to make oath of ancfa
things as might diEcover what they soi^t
after.*' It appean from letters written to Lord
North and others, that there was a standing
order "to put to the torture such obstinate per-
sons as would not eonfees." Informers were en-
couraged and courted ; so that nearly every
villun could gratify hia spite on his personal
enemies by accusing them of heresy or of disre-
spectful words; and, at the same time, secret spies
were retiuned, who not only frequented public
places, but also invaded the sacred privacy of
domestic life. The justices of the peace received
instmctioDS to call secretly before them one or
two honest persons within their districts, or more,
at their discretion, and impoee on them by oath
or otherwise, the duty of secretly learning and
searching out such persona aa "evil behaved
themselves " in church, or that spoke against the
king's or queen's proceedings. And it was set
down iu the same diabolical instructions, "that
lie information shiUI be ^ven taeret/y to the jus-
ticca; and the same justices shall call the accused
persons before them, and examine them, without
declaring by whom they are accused.'* Althou)^
the character of the upper clasaes of society had
been wofully deteriorated, the naturally frank
and generous spirit of the English people revolted
at such practices; and not the hundredth part of
the mischief was done which might have been
expected from the estahliBliing of such a system.
This was the period of persecution for religions
opinions; the efforts and the succeM of Luther,
Calvin, and the other Reformers, had excited a
fury among the Catholics which nothing short of
blood and life could allay. The penal fires were

,v Google

ASt 15S3— 15fi8.] Ui

blnzing from one end of Europe to the other; and
terrible as was the brief lage of Harya reign,
Eaglftnd, as compared with must other ChriBtian
couutneB, was dagularlj' tortoiute.'

Maiy'a care for ^le souls of her Babjects did
not improve tbeir nvoali. Without going to the
full length of some Frotcatant writers, we ma;
aMert, npon good evidence, that crime w>b on
the inereaae, and that capital offences, indepen-
denUjr of thoae ol a religions kind, greatly multi-
plied. Fifty-twD petaODs were condemned and
execated at Oxford at one anize. Loathsome
offHices le-^pe&red : ti>e highways became again
insecure. On more thuk one occasion men of
rank became thieves and cnt-purses. In this
Qnlncby year London and other cities were
Tinted bj the "hot burning fevers" which were
partjcnlarly fatal to old persons. In the follow-
ing jear the ooDotry was afflicted bj an extreme
dearth, sod pestilence stalked in the rear of far-
mine. Plots and consplradee, also, were not
wanting, for which such abundant caosea were
ministered in the violation both of dvil and reli-
gious liberty.

.-,- Hut's husband Philip was now
King of Spun, and abwllute Lord of
Naples, Riciiy, the Mihuiese, the Low Countries,
the Indies, and other fair and fertile countries,
which well deaerved a better master. This had
not happened by the death, but by the voluntary
resignation of his father Charles Y. The empe-
ror and king, who had been for forty years the
mightiestpotentate in Europe, becoming suddenly
sick of worldly dominion —

" Cast orowDf for ntam^v »inv —

Though only fifty-five years old, and with his
faculties, both mental and physical, to all ap-
pearanoe nnimp«ured, he determined to renounce
liis mnny crowns. On the 25th of October, IfiSS,
he met the states of the Low Countries, ex<
plained to them the reasons of his resignation,
absolred them from their oaths of alliance,
and devolved his authority on Philip — weeping,
it is said, as he reflected on the burden which he
imposed upon his eon. A few months later be for-
mally resigned to Philip all his other dominions,
and all his titles, with the exception of the lofty

BY. 67

one of emperor, which it was not in his power to
bestow.' He chose for his retreat the monastery
of SL Just, situated on the frontiers of Castile
and Portugal, near to Placentio. He survived
about two years, chiefly occupying his time in
cultivating a little garden, reading divinity, mak-
ing clocks, and trying experiments and inven-
tions in mechanics. Many things are related of
him in his retreat; one of the best, which is pro-
bably as true as any of them, being that, upon
finding he could never make two clocks to go
exactly alike, he deplored the pains he had tAkeu,
and the blood he had shed, in order to make
all mankind think and believe in one way.'

It was not always that the moat Catholic king
enjoyed the faronr of the court of Borne; foreven
in that high quarter political considerations or
personal animosities continnaliy interfered with
the spiritual scheme. Paul lY,, who, as a bigot,
and as the first that introduced the tribunal of
the Inquisition in Borne,* might have been ex-
pected to lean towards the congenial fanatimsm
of Philip, hated the Spaniards with an Andent
and hereditary hatred, and, as a neceasair conse-
quence, favom«d the French and their party in
Italy; for, without the arms of France, the pope
saw no possibility of overthrowing the dominion
of Sptun, which, be it said, was oppressive, and
barbarizing, and odious to the Italian people.
The great ability of the Emperor Charles had
imposed respect; but Paul thought the acceaaion
of Philip, in such unusual circnmstauees, too
good an opportunity to be lost, and, before the
new king was well settled on his throne, the pon-
tiff opened negotiations with the French. He
set on foot plots and conspiracies in Naples, his
native country, which was groaning under the
weight of Spanish misrule ; and he finally arranged
a grand plan, by which the French king was to
expel Philip by force of arms, and take posses-
sion of the Neapolitan kingdom, of the Milanese,
and the other states in Upper Italy, which his
ancestors had claimed, and several tiroes held,
though for very short periods. But Paul had
formed an erroneous estimate of Philip, who was
ever vigilant and suspicious, and who soon ob-
tMned intelligence of the secret manaenvrea in
Italy. In an opportune moment, at the end of
the year 16S&, he sent the Duke of Alva to take

11 Un ud Di

,. thgn anij Gaxdinul CsnR^ > >'atpi}UUii,
— It wu imdrntd frightful bj

u of pnnBdim ; t

* CbMfJm had Hoorad it BlnHlT totdi tamOwrPardlDUid. wbi
HOIK tbe bnparor Fwdinand L ' Di ntu; Sajli.

* TIh rial iBVMUoa n* ftnt OMUIA^ at Roma t? tlu

Knd tbd flnt thing ths BonuDB tlld after Uiadeatb of thboiljoni
potitiff (whJah happonod Id luo] wai to bum th« trlbtmal of tba
H0I7 OOca, to UbeiaU aU Uie primwi tnr matlsn of nliglDn,
and to niM ^ka priaoiu of tba InqaiiitLcn t4 tlia gnnad- It ll
a gnat mlitaka to mppoH that thia horrid tribnoa] wh thoM
paworTil at Homa. Maaj of tha popoa datdtod It. Tbt tnia
■oiBxs of tti ml^t wai pot baTimd ths Alpa, but Uia Pjumasa —
[n Spain and Fortogal. In a oonaMttabla part of Italf It waa

»Google

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

[Civ;

□ UlLITAST.

npon liimBelf tLe goveiument of Naplea. Before
tois, Alva was gcvemer of Milan, and now he
had the supreme command of the whole of Italj
that appertained to the SponiardH, whose armies
were reinforced in order to meet the French
(then preparingtocrouthe Alps nkder the Duke
of OoUe) and keep down the Italian people, who,
in manj places, were ready to rise. The pope
was in a paroxysm of rage, which did not permit
faim to wear an almost useless mask. He
rested And threw into prison Oarcilasso de la
Vega, who wtis then at Bomeaaambasaadorfrom
Philip ID his quality of King of England ; and he
imprisoned and put to the torture De Tassis, the
Roman poatmaster, for passing certnin letters writ-
ten in the Spanish interest. The Duke of Alva,
who soon afterwarda massacred the Proteet&nts
in heaps in the Low Countries, showed little de-
licacy towards this turhulent head of the Catholic
church ; anticipating his movements, he marched
an army across the Neapolitan froDtiers into the
Roman States. The Spaniards spread confusion,
destruction, and terror through the whole Papal
territory: people fiod from the city of Rome, ex-
pectbg another sack, and not doubting that the
troops of hia moat Catholic majes^ would prove
as bloodthinty and rapacious aa the aniiliariea
under tiie Constable Bourbon: but Paul IV.,
who had the fierce spirit of a pope of the four-
teenth century, woold not listen to terms of ac-
commodation ; and though one of his nephews,
the Cardinal Carafia, hod a conference with the
Duke of Alva, they concluded nothing bat a
truce for forty days. In the meanwhile, not-
withstanding a aolemn truce for five years, which
still existed between i^^once and Spain, the Duke
of Onise had led an army through the psases of
the AJpe, and waa looking forward with bright
and aot iiiireaaanahle hopes to the conquest of
Lombardy.' This was the state of affairs in
Italy towards the end of the year 1556. In the
month of March of the present year (I5S7} King
Philtp gratified hia wife Mary with a short visit,
and he entered London in some state, being ac-
companied by the queen and divers nobles of the
realm.' But it was soon seen that his most
Catholic majesty had not come for love, the sole
object of hia visit being to drive Maty and her
council iuto a declaration of war agaiost France.
This, however, was not so easy a matter as he
hud fancied : Cirdiual Pole and nearly the whole
of the council opposed the measure ; and even
euch of the niniHtry as were more compliant
dreaded the effects of a war with France, which
wHB sure to be accompanied by a war with
Scotland, in the present denmg^ state of the
finances and evident iU.humour of the people.

1 uiumobA, Storia Cinlt d^t M

But the Spanish interests were served by a stniDge
accident Among the nnoierons Eoglish refo-
gees in Fnaoe was one Thomas Stafibrd, a per-
son of some rank and influence, who entertained
the notion of revolutionizing England. With
only thirty-two persons he cromed over from
fVance, landed at Scarborough in TorkshiR,
and surprised the castle there : but, on (he third
day they were all made prisonera by the Earl of
Westmoreland, without effusion of blood ; Staf-
ford, Richard Saunders, snd three or four othtri,
among whom was a Frenchman, were sent up
to London, committed to the Tower, and there
tortured into a confeeuon that Henry IT., the
French king, had aided and abetted their euter-
prise ; which wofl not altogether improbable, as
the French court knew what Philip and tbe
Spaniards wei-e doing in London, ss well as th«
devotion of Mary to her husband's inteieats.
Upon the S8th of Uaf , Stafford was beheaded on
Tower-hill, and on the morrow three of his com'
paniouB were drawn to Tybum and there exe-
cuted, BichardSaundBra,whohadprohablylieeD
a traitor, or had divulged more than the rest, re-
ceived the queen's pardon. Making the most of
what had happened, the queen accused the French
court of encouraging many traitorous bands of
her subjects — of giving an asylum to her out-
laws, who were maintained in France with annual
pensions, contrary to treaty — of sending over to
the castle of Scarhorongh, Stafford and others in
French ships, provided with armour, monition,
and money; and on the 7th of June she made a
formal declaration of war — perhaps the first de-
claration of the kind thoroughly unpopular with
lation. Having obtained what he wanted,
and earnestly recommended the instant raising
of troops to act as auxiliaries to hia own anny
on the northern frontiers of France, Philip took
his departure on the 6th of July, and, happily
for England, he never returned! It was diUicalt
— most difficult — to do her husband's bidding;
but, with great exertions, Mary levied lOl*
horse, 4000 foot, and SOUO pioneers, and sent
them over to Flanders in the end of July, under
the command of the Earl of Pembroke, with ths
Lord Robert Dudley, for his master of the ord-

Ajnidst this din of war, the Lady Anne of
Cleves died very quietly at Chelsea. She It^ft a
good name behind her among the people, sud
buried like a princess royal in Westmmster

Having joined the bands of Flemings, Ger-

ans, Italians, Dalmatians, Ulyrians, Croats,

and o Aers, that formed the army of King I'bilip,

the English marched with this mixed host, ander

the supreme command of Elizabeth's rejected

*amj Bolmiltrd.

»Google

.D. 1556—1558.] MARY. 69

□r, the Dnke of Savoy, od« of the most Ap- I guise. When Pbilip obtained a bint of the in-

tended project of Guise, he offered to reinforca
the gurisoD of CkImm with a body of Spauiab
troops ', but the English council, with a jeiJouaj
certainly not groundless, declined this offer. But
at the same time they were unable to make any
ready effort themselves, even when warned of the
danger: the English navy had been allowed to go
to wreck and rain :' to victual the remnant of it,
to send the boopa to Flanders, the queen had
seized all the corn she could find in Norfolk and
Suffolk, without paying for it : to meet the ex-
penses of that expedition she had forced the city
of London to lend or give her ;C60,000; she
had levied before the legal time the second year's
subsidy vot«d by parliament; she had iwned
many privy seals to procure loans from people
of property; she had, in short, ezhaosted her
I for her husband, and at the moment of
she appears to have dreaded calling her

proved captains of those times; and they soon
distinguished themselves by their bravery in a
fierce battle under the walls of St Quentin,
vhere many of the chief nobility of IVnnce were
either sMn or taken prisou<

stematiou was spread among the French, that it
was thought by many that Philip might have
tnkeu Paris had he marched immediately upon
it. But Philip waa always wary and cautious;
nor does he appear ever to have contemplated
the doing of much more than the forcing of the
Duke of Guise to come out of Italy. He sat

downbefore the town of St Quentin, which made

a gallant resistance for seventeen days, during

which the French had time to fortify Paris, and

to call up troope from the provinces. But an

invadiug army of 60,000 men was so formidable

that they were obliged even to recal the Duke of

Guise, and, as Philip had calculated, that general,
who had advanced to the fron-
tiers of Naples, hurried back
across the Alps. To prolong
the campaign in an easy man-
ner, Philip ordered the Span-
inrds, English, Croats, and the
rest, to lay siege to Ham and
Cattelet, whicb places they
took, and then,onthe approach
of winter, they retired into
quarters in Flanders.

In fact, the coming of Guise
out of Italy, which was so pro-
fitable to PhilipJ was a mortal
blow to Maiyj for that active
commander, after aeeuring the
northern frontiers, reeolved to
sit down before Calais in the
depth of wiutar, and vigor-
ously, and with A large army,
commence a siege which, for
»gea, had been deemed utterly
hopeless, Calais, which the
English considered as impreg-- a. CmiIii, b,

nable, and as perfectly secure d*g!Im1S^

from an assault during the
winter, had generally its garrison reduced at I parliament together to ask for
Uiat season ; but in the present Year, throutth I And thna w*m ths wmV «.r..io„„
want of money and t
Philip, that reduction
thirds of the whole for
vember two skilful Ii
»nd Delbene, reconnoit
fiJrta wljftcent, having |
' 'n.g whDlo at th« blune ii

I, Diteli filial <ri
blflofbeii^and
to Doalogaa.

»Google

7(1

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

he, with the other, and an unuBually heavy train
of artillery, marched towards Nieulaj, or Newn-
ham Bridge, &nd, attacking in force an outwork
at the village of St. Agatha, at the head of the
causeway, drove the garriaoii into Newnham, and
took pogaesuon of th&t ontwork. The English
lord-deputy Wentworth feeling that, from the
miserable weaknesB of the gairiBOn, he c
spare no assistance for the defence of the other
outworks, ordered them to be evacuated as soon
as they should be attacked. This was done at
Newnham Bridge, whence the captain retired
with his soldiers into Callus ; but the ontwork of
Riaebank surrendered with its garrison. Thus,
by the third morning of the siege, the Doke of
Guise had made himself mairter of two most ii
portant posts, of which one commanded the en-
trance of the harbour, the other the approach
across the manhes from Flanders. The next
day, he battered the walls near to the Water-
gate, in order to make the English believe that
he intended to force an entrance at that point,
and cause them "to have the less regard unto the
defence of the castle," which was the weakest
partof the town, and the place " where the French
were ascertained by their espials to win easy
entry;' and while the garrison lost time inrfpair-
ing a false breach made by the Watergate, Guise
suddenly brought fifteen double cannons to bear
upon the castle, which, with astounding n^li-
gence on the part of the English govercmeut, had
l)een suffered to fall into such decay tliat it tot-
tered at the firet cannon shot, and a wide breach
was made in it before evening. When that was
done. Guise detached one body to occupy the
quay, and another, under Strozzi, to effect a lodg-
ment on the other side of the harbour; but Strozzi
was beaten back with losfl. About eight in the
eTening, at ebb-tide, De Grammont was thrown
forward with some 300 arquebusiers to recon-
noitre the great breach in the castle. The ditch
was broad and deep, but the water was low, hav-
ing been partially drained off, and the French
had brought up by sea a great quantity of hurdles
and other materials to facilitate the passage.
Upon Grammont's rejiort that the breach seemed
to be abandoned. Guise threw himself into the
ditch, and forded it, not finding the water much
above his girdle ; his men followed in great haste
— and happy men were they to enter the rotten
old castle without resistance. The Lord Went-
worth, as the best thing that could be done, had
withdrawn the English aoldiers, had made a train
with certain big barrels of gunpowder, and now
anticipated the pleasure of blowing the castle and
the Frenchmen into the air together. But this
train was badly laid; the French, coming up out
of theditch witii thcirclothes wringing wet, mois-
tened the gunpowder, and saw Uie attempt to

destroy them fail After passing tha night in the
castle. Guise sent on his men to the assault of the
town, which he fancied would be taken with

equal eaae ; but the marshal, Sir Anthony Agar,
with a small body of biSTa men, repulsed the
French, and drove them back to the ^stle. Sir
Anthony next tried to drive them from that posi-
tion, and persevered till he himself, his son and
heir, and some fonrBoore officers and men, wer«
Ifud low in front of the eastle-gate. So miswably
weak was the garrison, that this sm&ll Iom of
men was decisive. Having in vain expected aid
from Dover — having received no tidings, nor m>
much as a sign— the lord-deputy on that same
night demanded a parley. The EVench acceded,
but would grant none but the hanhest terms of
capitulation.'

About two of the clock next day at after-
1, being the 7th of January, a great ntuaber
of the meanest sort were suffered to pass oat of
the town in safety, being guarded through the
army with a number of Scottish light-honemen,
who used the Ekiglish very well and friendly; and
afterthiSjCveiyday for the space of three or four
days together, there were sent away divera wm-
Bs of them till all were avoided, those only
excepted that were appointed to be reeerved for
prisonera, as the Lord Wentworth &nd ethers
There were in the town of Calius 600 English

»Google

A.D. 1556—1566.] MA

■oldieTB ordinaiy, and no more ; and of the towoa-
men not fully 200 fighting men (a smaU garrison
for the defence of Bach a town), and there were
in the whole number of men, women, and cbil-
drea (»» they were accounted when they went
out of the gate), 4200 peraoiu." '

ThoB waa loat, iu six days, the town of Calais,
which had coot Edward III. an obstinate uege of
more than eleven months, and which the English
had kept through all the varietiea of their for-
tune for Sll ;eat%

The grief of the English coort, and the vexv
tion of the people, were as great as the joy and
triumph of the French, Yet, except as a humili-
ation to military fame, and as a blow to national
pride, the loaa was not so serioua. Calais, indeed,
hard been reckoned "ai one of the eyea of Eng-
land,' but it was an eye constantly in pain and
peril, costing immense mmi for its care and cure ;
sod it was soon found that England could see
i-erjr well without it The people, howeTer, long
murmured and lamented, and the government
was di*gTa<«d and depressed in the eitreme by
this neidt of a war which they had engaged in
withont justice or reason. At the same time the
Scots, acting on the usuad impulse from France,
began to stir upon the Borders. After the peace,
which we have mentioned in the preceding reign,
the Queen-dowager Mary of Guise made a journey
to Fnmce, carrying with her many of the princi-
pal Soottish nobility. She visited her daughter
Mary and her relations, and arranged a grand
political plan, by which, on her return, though
not withont difficulty, the Earl of Arran was in-
duced to resign the vhole government of the
kingdom into her hands.' On the 12th of April,
1S54, she aswuned the name of regent. In this
capacity she acted chiafly under the guidance of
D'Oisel, a Frenchman of great ability. Her gov-
emment, upon the whole, was judicious and bene-
ficial to Scotland; it would have been more so
had the regent not been obliged to make sacrifices
to the politics, religion, and interests of her family
and friends in France. When Mary declared
war in the preceding year, the French court re-
quired the Queen.regeut of Scotland to make a
diversion in their favour. She summoned a con-
vention at Newbottle, and requested the states to
concur in a declaration of hostilities against Eng-
land ; but the Scottish nobles, in part from a
jealousy of the French, in part from their con-
viction that the war would be unprofitable, re-
fused their assent. Upon this, she ordered lyOisel
to begin some fortifications at Eyemouth. As this
was upon ground mentioned in the last treaty

< Ana had bem gmtUM irlth Ftmii pnuiMii, >Mli the
U(k-«uidiyg UtUof Daka of CtulaUanalt. ud vitli > pubUc
KknowMfiaaiut hk rt(bt u nut b^ ((ABC Uie jnmf Mu7)

!T. 71

with Edward, part of the garrison of Berwick
made an inroad to prevent the erectiim of tha
works. This proceeding, as she had calculated,
exasperated the Scottish people, who anon retalin
ated in their own fashion by making forays into
England, without waiting or caring for any de-
claration or orders from the government. But
when D'Oisel, in person, undertook the siege of
the castle of Wark, the council prevented him,
and not only recalled him, but gave him a sharp

After the French king had visited Calais he
made great haste for the accomplishment of the
marriage between Francis his eldest son, called
the dauphin, and Mary Stuart, daughter and sola
heirof JameBV.,lateKiDgofScol1and. Thegreat
political importance of this match will be devel-
oped in the following reign. For the present it
will saf&ce to stale that Mary Queen of Scots, in
the sixteenth year of her age, was onited to a
sickly, silly boy, a few mouths younger than her-
self, and that the memoiable marriage was solem-
nized in the city of Paris on the 24th of April
(1S68). Before this great event, bat at a time
when it was known it would take place, and
when the nation was smarting with the pang of
the recent loss and di^race at Calais, Queen
Uary snmmoned a parliament that she might
implore for more money. This parliament met,
and the members being evidently excited by a
passionate desire to recover Calais, or to vindicate
the honour of the national arms by giving some
notable defeat to the French, without making
any reflections on the arbitrary methods recently
resorted to by the queen for the raising of money,
they proceeded to vote her a fifteenth, a subsidy
of 4t. in the pound on land, and 2i. 8d. on goods,
to be paid in four years, by equal instalments.
From this liberal parliament the queen turned to
the clergy, who readily granted her Bt. in the
pound, to be paid in the like manner in four years.
With the money thus raised, Mary hired a number
of ships, and despatched a fleet of upwards of 100
sail of all sizes, but chiefly small, under the high-
admiral, Edward Lord Clinton, who was ordered
to join King Philip's squadron, and while the
French king should be engaged in the field with
the Spanish army and their auxiliaries, to lay
waste his coast and surprise some of his towns,
Brest in particular. But the expedition was
badly managed: instead of making at once for
Brest, Clinton and the Flemish admiral lay to,
near the little town of Conquet, where one morn-
ing at break of day they sounded their trumpets,
"as the manner was," and, "wi^ a thundering
peal of great guns," awoke the poor inhabitants.
They landed with little or no opposition, and,
mastering the town, "put it to the sackage, with
a great abbey and many pretty towns and villages

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and Miutxiit.

lb.~l«n* who. ou, n... found gr»t rto» ol ! gromd v«j .MM; » Ita »»W, n«r »
riUwurflgoodboolie.." Ali^thkbglcriou. Gnvelinei H. fort.arf h« l.ft jmg, .»d
•xcSit Ihw m»irfi«l «.»» w.y up th« couulir, brought hl< right lank to thi buit of the nrer
bnmto. mot. villi«e. «iid houiwi i md then th« 1 Atr, clo.. to it. mouth. Wli.n th« Spraard.

began cannoiiadiDg, the tea Eug-
lish ahips which happened t« be on
th&t part of the coast, attracted bj
the aound of battle, sidled np th«
river, opened a tremendous fire upon
the right flank of the French, and
contributed materially to one of tlie
moat decisive victories gained dur-
ing these vrara. The Marshal da
Termea, Yillebon, and manj' other
distinguished Frenchmen were
taken priBonera. Not a few of the
r men ran into the sea and perished
there. Only a few half-naked fugi-
tives escaped both death and cap-
But a greater piece of good for-
tune for England was approaching
than would have been the recapture
of Calais and fifty such victories as
that of Gravelinea. About the be*
ginning of September the queen fell
sick of a prevalent disorder, vaguelj
called a cold and hot borning fever,
which appears to have been nothing
more than a bod sort of ague. Our chroniclers tell
us that the disease — whatever it was — was fatal
only to persons in advanced life: but Uary bad
long been preniaturely old, and when she was at-
tacked her heart was bruised and broken. She
removed from her favourite reaidence of Harop-
loQ Court to Westminster, where aha lay "lan-
guishing of a long sickneaa nntil the 17th of
November, when between the home of five and
six in the morning, she ended her life in this
world at her house at St. James',* having reigned
five years, four months, and eleven days, and
lived a wretched life of forty-three years and nine
months.*

Within twenty-two hours of the queen's death
her friend and kinsman Beginald Pole, cardinal-
legate, and Archbishop of Canterbuiy, expired at
Lambeth;' his death being a mnch sorer injury
— a more fatal blow to the Catholic church in
England, than that of Mary, whose fierce bigotry
advanced, perhaps, more than anything the cause
of the BcformaCioii.'

It has been the fashion with Protestant writers
not to allow thisunhappywomanasingle virtue;
and yet, in truth, Mary had many good and
generous qualities. She was generally sincere

Bmr or tbk Time.— Fnm ■ print ■ttribatad (o AogiutH

English retreated to the sea-side, where their
ships lay ready to receive them; but their allies,
the ElemingB, being more covetous of spoil, or less
cautious, passed farther into the interior, and
beiug encountered by the power of the country,
lost 400 or 500 men before they could regfun their
ships. Notwithstanding Clinton's having with
him a considerable land force under the command
of the Earts of Huntingdon and Rutland, he was
alarmed at the reports of the forces collecting or
collected in Brittany, under the Duke of Es-
tampes, and thought it best not to attempt any
assault against the town of Brest, or to stake
longer stay thereabouts.* A small squadron of
ten English ships performed more honourable
service. The Marshal de Terraes, governor of
Calais, had made an irruption into Flanders with
an army of 9(HK) foot and 150U horse. He easily
forced a passage across the river Aar, or Aire, (o
Dunkirk, burned that town to the ground, and
scoured and desolated the whole country almost
as far as Newport; but there he was euihlenly
checked by Count Egmont. Apparently through
the sujierior marching of the Spanish infantry,
Egmout got to Gravelines before de Termes, and
tlirew Bk jMUl of his army between the French
and the lovnt of Calais, their only sure place of
retreat. A general battle was thus inevitable,
and to fight it the French genend chose his

rn li (Wirini— (uio

»Google

AD. 155.1—1658,] MA

^anU high-minded, and sliruuk from that trickery
and treacherj in atate niat(«n which her more
fortouftto uBter Elizabeth adopted without heai-
UitioD as a general rule of couducL Notwitb-
stAoding h«a: «ad experience of the world, and
the depreaung inflaences of ill-health, she was
capable of warm and lasting friendshipe: ta a
niistreaa she was not odIj liberal, but kind and
attentive, even towards the meanest servant of
her household; she was charitable to the poor,
and moat eonsiderate for the afflicted; she was
the first to snggest the foundation of an estab-
lialuuent, like Chelsea Hospital, for the reception
of invalid soldiers, and in her will she appro-
priated certain funds to this national object.'
like all the reat of her testamentary bequests,
this was utterly neglected by her sacceasor, not-
withstanding the dyingqueeu's earnest, entreaties
that she would suffer the intention of her will to
l>e caiti^ into effect.'

Nor was Mary deficient in acquirements aud
M<>MmpliBhuient8. As well as her junior half-

JT. 73

sister, she bad received what may be called a
learned education ; she had some acquaintance
with Greek, and not only read but also wrote
latin, and her letters in that language wen
pmised by Erasmus. Among her accomplish-
ments are enumerated embroidering, dancing,
and music. She played three instruments — the
virginals, regals, and lute.'

In most matters her taat« wna more delicate
and better than that of Elizabeth, and though
she bad less personal dignity, and cared not "to
go slowly and to march wiLli leisure and with a,
certain grandytie," as her hnlf-sister always did
when in public, she never gave way to violent
gesticulation and the swearing of gross oaths,
which her successor was almost as much addicted
to as her father Henry. But as a queen all these
qualities and accomplishments (abilities of a high
order she had none) were of the slightest value,
and their insignificance is shown in the records of
her miserable reign, and the boundless triumph
over all of her master-passion.'

lUble quUtiH, wl

lilting thai Ulb Pmict
tbo Iknlu of » _
LnlfnH UiM Mur'> tiAga wi

tiilitj to hi> n>U(lon.

had a tem^'tAtkni ta

wlwUj dnnlad ta Spain,

inglariooa, bix aftiMr

that, altbongh Dunansntic

of diAimnlatlcm aa bar iJiUr, mud of breach

baDd^ that Bha obMaaltlj and wilfull;

fpnt; and that the wonh with which Carta haa cmcJudad the
laiaetor of thla anlamented eoverelfCD. though little pleaalog

aticm to the htink of rolu, iha left It, bf her lea-

t pnKA of Marj't pceeatBingeoxiie
hut bl«at< OD the other aide will

(kUlnhiTaoithhlinibjeot. He
oofu. reljiog Dcraalorallj on the
lonbtfOl kliulof oHdaiiie. giTui« an ioteip'et'tlai it otbtr
hj wmrda uid thln^ whloh thoj will eoamlj hoar, and
od then drawing ooncluloni directly eootnr^ to what the
ronld juatliy, Hmne, krrowjn^ thjit Mar? BuJl^nd ■
wiAtched etata of health, and having othar good erldenoo to go
npon, deecrlbed bar aa being uf a lonr and anUsn diapoamon.
Tbla, H}a Sir Piaderlck Hailden, li u Inaonuaoj notoiioiH to
thoee Kl all aofoalnted with the hlitor; of the period ; and ts
anpport hie opinion ha mentiont that Mmij vie once eeeo te
lau^ hfartU]' at a tninblei at nreanwinh— that ahe kept In her
■arihie a ftmaje Jialar (everr king at the time ke|;t a fbcd nTTMl)

the Pritr Ptnl Szpfm. and inn

hoUdaj^ Sir I'rederlek If addan bffeU BmlthBeld, and the In*

that blaied Is iU parti of the klstdom during thie AlBfm

»Google

HISTORY. OF ENGLAND.

L AKD iiaJtSKT.

CHAPTER XIII.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.~a.d. 1558—1560.

ELIZABETH. — ACCKSSION, A.D, 155fl— DEATH, A.D. 1630.

Elizabeth prooUitawl queen— Fopnlu' joy kt her Mcesuon—Her kmbignoiu condncl kbont tlie Httlenitnt of nlifimi
— F«£euite *t hsi' entr&ace into Loudon — ^Har ooroDfttioa — Sha la urged to declATe heriiiteatioDBftbout religioD
—Enutmants of pu-liamant for its MttlemeDt — DieutiifiKtioii of the Fapiate^EtUabelh Tsjacti tha advice of
parliament to mitrry — Froteatajitiam re-cHtabliahed in England — Penalties inSicted on PapistB — DepriTatioa aod
imprisonment of the Popish bishops — BUiabeth's legitimaey denied bj the Guisea — Reform»tion in Scotland —
Effscta of John Knox's preSiching—Deoiolttian of abbeys and monasteiies— Mary Stuart becomea Qoean of
Franee — CoDtentinn between Hary of Oniae, Begent of Soatlaud, aud the Protestanta — Elisabeth aids tbv
Scottish Froteatants — Kegotiationi between theci and bet miniiten — Tbe contert maiDtainod id Scotlaod hj
French and English money— Leith fortified by French troops against the Scottish Protestaata — Tbe Soota
aided bj troopa from England — Siege of Leith — Death of ilary of Oaise^Cspitulation of I.eiCh~Suiton to
Elimbeth tor marriage.

ft T the time of Mary's demiHe the pai^
9 liament was sitting. Herdeathwas
g concealed from tbe public for aome
^ hours ; but, before hood, Heath,
t Archbishop ofYork,wboliad been
si !ord - chanc«llor Hince Giirdiner'B
decease, weut down to the House of Iiords, and
tent immediately to the speaker of the commons,
desiring him, with the knights and burgeaseH, to
repair without delay to the upper house, in
order to give their as-
sent in a case of great
importance. Heath
then announced in due
form that God had cal-
led to his mercy tbe
late sovereign lady
Qneen Mary — a heavy
and grievous woe, but
relieved by the blessing
Ood had left them in a
true, loyal, and right
inheritress to the crown "
—the I^dy Elizabeth,
second daughter to the
late BOTsreign lord of
noble memory. King I
Henry VIII., and iis- ,
ter unto the said late
queen. Not a chal-
lenge was nuaed to her
title ; the Lady Eliza-
beth was acknowledged Qima EusuETu.-
in both honses, which

reaounded with the shouts of " God save Queen
Elizabeth, and long and happy may she reign !"
and in the course of the day ^e was proclaimed
amidst lively demonstrations of popular joy. The
bells of all the churches were set ringing ; tables
were spread In the streets, " where was plentiful

eating, drinking, and making merry;" luid at
night bonfires were lighted in all directions, and
the skies were reddened by flames which had
not consumed human victims.' Elizabeth whs
at Hatfield when she received the news of her
easy accession. She fell npon her knees, ei-
claiming, in Latin, " It is the Lord's doing, and
it is marvellous in our eyes."' On the following
day several noblemen of the late queen's coimcil
repaired to her : she gave them a kind reception,
but pieseatty showed
her decided preference
for Sir William Cecil
— the astute, tbe most
politic Cecil — whom
she instantly appoint-
ed principal seo^tary
of state. On tbe S3d
of Novemberthe queen
removed from Hat-
field, with a joyous es-
cort of more than KXK)
personB. At Highgate
she was met by tlie
bishops, who, kneeling,
acknowledged their al-
leipauce: die received
them very gracionaly,
giving to every one of
them her hand to kiss
with the exception of
Bishop Bonner. At
-Atur ZuBiiMo. the foot of Highgate

Hill she was very duti-
fully and hDnouia.bly met by the lord-mayor and
whole estate of London, and so conducted to tfa«

.^ Dmiu JiUiiai iri Mnf, t< I

HliaMltKMlitiHMTii. Than

n Ood fci my tHtpttl.

»Google

A.D. 1848—1660.]

ELIZABETH.

75

Cbftrter-houBB, then oecapied u & town rmideaoe
by her friend Lord North. On the aftemooQ of
Hondaj, the SStb, ihe entered into the dt; at
Crippl(^t«, "and rode in ststa along by the Wall
to tiiB Tower:" hero BberenjMned till Monday, the
6th of December, when she remoired by water to
Somenet House. The ambiguity of her conduct
with regard to religion had been well studied;
and it appears quite certain that her compliances
in the former reign Iiad deceived many into a
notion Uiat she was really the good Catholic she
profeaaed herself to be j otherwise it is difficult
to unilerstand the unanimity of the lords, for
the majority of the upper house were Catholics,
and both the biahopa and the lay peers would
have been disposed to resist her claim if the;
had expected that she woald renture to disturb
the eatabliahed order of things. The mistake
was confinned by her retaining in her priry
conudl DO fewer thiui thirteen known and sincere
Catholics who hod been membars of that of her
sister, and the seven new counsellors she ap-
pointed, though probably known to herself to be
zealoQs ProteBtonts, did not bear that character
with, the rest of the world ; for one and all of

L, kftorvudft Lord Burghtoj.

them, like her favourite minister Cecil,
ebronk under the fiery bigotry of Mary, and
had Donformed to the Boman Church. Even
decency demanded some little time, but policy
re^jnired more; and we feel convinced that if
had not been eatablished beyond the reach of
doubt that the Catholics had lost ground im-
mensely, and were no longer the majori^ of the
cation, Elizabeth, who was never in her heart
thorough Protestant — who scarcely went lardier
with the Reformers than her father had da

would have left the Roman church undisturbed.
She was too cool and calculating tor a zealot;
and even the fate of her mother, and the circum-
stances of her own birth, failed to excite har. Id
fact, Elizabeth seems to have adopted, at the be-
ginning of her reign, the maxim recommended
by the most crafty of then living politicians —
that tJie Protestants should be kept iu hope, the
Papists not cast into despair.' Her real inten-
tions were kept a profound secret from the ma-
jority of her council; and her measures of change
and reform were concerted only with Cecil an<l
one or two others, who appear to have been most
thoroughly aware of the hot that the Protestant
party had become infinitely stronger than the
Catholic On the 13th of December the body of
Mary was very royally interred in Westminster
Abbey, with all the solemn funeral rit«B used by
the Elomau church, and a mass of requiem; and
on the S4tb day of the same mouth a grand fune-
ral service for the late Emperor Charles V. wan
celebrated in the same place and in the same
manner, with a great attendance of Catholic
prieets, English and foreign, and of noble lords
and ladies of the realm. And yet, if we are to
believe a letter written at the time, Elizabeth,
on the very day aft«r these obsequies, refused to
hear mass in her own house.

On the ISth of January the queen took her
barge, and went down the river, being attended
by the lord-mayor and citdzens, and greeted with
peals of ordnance, with mnsic, and many trium-
phant shows on the vat«r. Bhe landed at the
Tower; but, this time, it was not as a criminal, at
the Traitors' Gate, but as a triumphant queen
preparing forbercoronation. Upon the morrow
there was a creation of peers ; it was not nnme-
roas, but Henry Carey, brother to Lady Knowles,
and son to Mary Boleyn, her majesty's aunt, was
included in it under the title of Iiord Hunsdon.
On the morrow, being the 14th of January, 1669,
the queen rode with great majesty out of the
Tower. The lord-mayor and eiUeens had been
lavish of their loyalty and their money; the
artists had exhausted their ingenuity and inren-
tion; and all the streets through which the pro-
cession passed on its way to Westminster were
furnished with stately pageants, sumptuous shows,
and cunning devices. The figures of the queen's
gnmdtatherand grandmother, father and mother,
were brought upon the stage, and Henry VIII.
and Anne Boleyn, with a glorious forgetfninees
of the past, were seen walking lovingly together.
Prophecies and Latin verses were prodigally ex-
pended on the queen; nor was there a parsimony
of English verse ot rhyme. In another pageant
Time led forth his daughter Truth, and Truth,
greeting her majesty, presented to her an English

■BblUlphBi

,v Google

76

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[C.V

. AlTD MlUTAir.

Kbl& In the last pageant of r]1 there Btood "a I reBtoreroTO- the home of larfteL" GogaudMi-
wgemly mud meek penonage, licbly (Lpparelled in gi^, deaertJng their poeia in Gnildhall, stood to
pttriiameot robes, with asceptie in her hand, over , hoaonrthequeeii,oneonendiudeof Temple B«r,
whoee bead wu written ' Deborah, the judge and , ntpporiiiig a wondronH tablet of I^tin Tent,

which expoanded to her majetit]' the hidden sense
of all the pageants in the city.' Her behaTioor
during tbis daj was popular in the extreme; and
from the beginning to the end of ber reign she
poB8e»ed the art of delighting the people, when
ahe thought neceiwaiy, with little condescenuons,
amilee, and cheerful worda. On the following
daj, being Snndaj, the ISth of Jannarf, Eliza-
beth waa crowned in Weatminater Abbey b; Dr.
Oglethorpe, Bisiiop of Carlisle, and aftenrarda
die dined in Weatminater Hall. The ceremony
of the eraonation was regulated strictly in the
ancient manner of the most Catholic times, but
there was one remarkable drcnmatanoe attend-
ing it Either from a aospicioa of the course she
intended to pursue, or from a somewhat tardy
recollection that, by the laws of the Bomaa
church, Elizabeth was not legitimate, or in con-
sequence of orders received from Rome since the
death of Mary and their congratulatory visit to
Elizabeth at Higfagate, every one of the bishopa,
with the exception of Oglethorpe, refused to per-
form the coronation service. From whatever
cause it might proceed, this refractorinen of the
bishops was a great political mistake on the pttrt
of the CUhoUca.*

On the very day after her coronation tlie Pro-
testanta pressed her for a declaration of her in-
tentions aa to religion. They must have felt
alarmed at die Popish celebrotioDa in the Abbey;
but it was some time before the cautious queen
would in any way commit herself. Before thia
application, however, Elimbeth had taken the
important step of authorizing the reading of the
Liiturgy in Ekiglish, and had shown at least a
fixed determination to prevent the Catholics

Tba UiliU* ud
vt dnpoxj of Uh prtn-

n jvoWblj th* iuAifikiA of Juns r

from re-lighting the fires at Smithfield. Vet, at
the same time, to the scandal of all Frotefltantt,
she forbade the destruction of images, kept her
crucil!z and holy water in her private i^pel,
and strictly prohibited preaching on controver-
sial points generally, and all preaching whatso-
ever at Paul's Cross, where, be it said, nelthw
sect had been in the habit of preaching pean
and good-will toward men. There was an addi-
tional cause for the queen's alowneaa and circnm-
apection. Upon the death of her sister the Eng-
lish exiles for religions opiniona flocked hack to
their country with a zeal sharpened by persecn-
tion. Of these men many woul<l have carried
the Reformation wholly into the path of Calvin
and Zwingle, being disposed, after their theolo-
gical studies in Switzerland, to dissent widely
from the Anglican church as established in the
reign of Edward VI.; and, what was not of less
importance, some of them thought that the re-
publican system, which they had seen to suit the
little cantODB among the Alps, would be a pre-
ferable form of government for England, and
they were well furnished with texta of Scnptnre
to prove the nselesanesa and wickedness of roy-
alty, la a moment of indeciaion the queen had
directed Sir Edward Came, her sister's ambaas*'
dor at Rome, to notify her acceeaion to the pope;
and the Protestants must have been delighted
and reassured when Paul IV, haaUly replied
that he looked upon her aa illegitiraate, and thst
she ought therefore to lay down the goTemment,
and expect wiiat he might decide. After thii,
she could not be expected to become an adherent
of Popery,

Ten days after the coronation (on the 85th of

ntibfldt«d bf k tew Ueui. holdi m bUMl of fotu maaJoiBa^ tnu^
p«tonuddnranBn • AWiiutHl.' «•*

• Btoi Uh Biibapof ChIU* nlBotuU J ownud <a IHl U"

»Google

AJk isjss— isao.] £]

Jaaaarj) Elizabeth met lier firat parliunent, with
X wtM reaolation of leaving them to settle the
religiou of the state, meieljr giving oat, through the
ahle Oedl, and the scarce); leu able Sir Nicho-
lu B»eoti, now keeper of the eeale, what were
her real wishes. Lordi and amnions showed
vonderfnllT' eager desire, as they had done in tl
daya of her imperiona father, to adapt themselrcfl
to preciael; such a church r^iimen m she in her
wisdom might propase. Thej enacted th«t the
fint-frniU and teudis slionld be restored to the
crown — that the queen, notwithstanding her sex,'
■honid in right of her legitimacy, be supreme
bead of the church — tfant the laws made coa-
ceming religion in EdwArd's time should be re-
established in full force — that his Book of Com-
mon Prayer in the mother-tongiie should be re-
stored and used to the eiclusion of all others in
all places of worehip. The Act of Snpremscy,
though the most ridiculous or the most horrible
of all to the Catholics on the Continent, met with
no opposition whatever; but nine temporal peers
and tiie whole bench of bishops protested in the
lords agunst the bill of uniformity, establishing
the Anglicmn Liturgy, notwithstanding the pains
which bad been taken to qualify it, and to soften
certun posBSgm most offensive to Catholic ears.
A mbric directed against the doctrine of the real
presence was omitted, to the avoidance of the
long-standing and bitter controversies on ^is
head.'

One of the first measures taken up by Queen
Haiy had been to vindicate the fame of her
mother Catherine of Aragon and her own legi-
timacy; and it was expected that Elizabeth, if
only ont of filial reverence, would pursae the
same course for Aer mother, Anne Boleyn, who,
OS the law stood, had never been a lawful wife;
but she carefully avoided all discussion on this
point, and satisfied herself with an act declara-
tory, in general terms, of her right of succession
to the throne, in which set all the bishops

Acta were passeil empowering the queen upon
the avoidance of any bishopric to exchange her
teuUts and parsonages appropriate within the
diooMe for an equivalent portion of the landed
estates belonging to the see. But the more active
o( the Protestants were checked and disappointerl
when they brought a bill into the commons for
the restoration to their sees of Bishops Barlow,
iicoiy, and Coverdale; another, for the revival of
farmer statnt«s, passed in the reign of Edward
VL, authorizing the crown to nominate a commis-
aoQ for dniwing np a complete body of Chnrch
of Kigland canon law; and a third for the resto-

BETB. 77

ration of all such clergymen as bad been deprived
for marriage during the late reign. The lost bill
was given np by command of Elizabeth herself,
who was not Protestant enough to overcome a
prejudice agunst married prieata, and who, to
the end of her days, could never reconcile heraelf
to married bishops.' The two other bills also
failed, for the bishops whom it was proposed to
restore were married men ; and as for the com-
mission for a canonical code, Elizabeth enter-
tained a salutary dread of the sealots.

It was not possible altogether to avoid recrimi-
nation. Nor dtJ the Catholics — now the weaker
part? — on all oocasions submit in silence to such
castigation. Dr. Story, who had acted as royal
proctor in the proceedings against Cranmer, and
who had given other proofs of bis zeal and in-
tolerauoe, had the boldness to lament that he and
others had not been more vehement in executing
the laws against hereey. " It was my counsel,"
said this doughty priest, " tbot heretics of emi-
nence should be plucked down as well as the
ordinary sort, nor do I see anything in all those
afbirs which ought to make me feel shame or
>w. My sole gn€!, indeed, is, that we
laboured only about the little twigs: we should
have struck at the roots." It was understood
that he meant hereby — what, indeed, had been
proposed by several— that Elixabeth should have
been removed out of the way while her sister
lived. Soon after delivering this speech Dr.
Story escaped out of the kingdom, and fixed
himself at Antwerp under the protection of the
Spaniards. There he ought to have been left,
pardcnlarly as his notions were every day be-
coming leas dangerous; but Elizabeth caused
to be kidnapped, to be brought over to Eng-
by stratagem, and executed as a traitor — a
proceeding as base as that of her sister M!ary
with regard to that zealous Protestant refugee
Sir John Cheke. Bishop Bonner, notwithstand-
ing the unei^aivocal marks of the queen's dis-
pleasure, attended at his post in parliament, and
presented to the Lord-keeper Bacon certain
articles drawn np by the convocation, and endea-
ed, in poi-t by ingenious compromises, in
part by more open proceediuga, to limit the au-
thority of the queen, and maintain that of the
popie, in matters of faith and ecclesiastical discip-
Bacon received the said articles courteously,
no further notice was bdcen of them, and
the convocation, after a aeriea of odjourDraenta,
separated in dismay.* The way in which the
parlifunent had recognised her title was highly
Ltisfactory to Elizabeth; but they were less for-
tunate in their treatment of another high ques-

• Tim iiiiTi^iiTiii of ■ CMbolls «

< IMtnAid; »r>(W; ftinia.

»Google

HISTOET OF ENGLAND.

[ClVn. AND ^lutUBT.

tion. In the conne of Uub Ksnion a deputation
was Mnt to lier majeMy bj the oonunona with
elu addren, "the principal matter whereof most
spocially was to move her grace to marriage,
wherel^ to all their comforts they might enjoy
the royal issue of her body to reign over them,"
Elizabeth received the deputation in the great
gallery <d her palace at Westminster, called the
Whitehall; and when the speaker of the Honae
of Commons had solemnly and eloquently set
forth the mesmgo, ahe delivered a remarkable
answer — the first of her many public declarations
of her intention to live and die a virg:in queen :
— "From my years of understanding, knowing
myself a servitor of Almighty God, I chose this
kind of life, in which I do yet live, as a life
most acceptable unto him, wherein I thought I
could best serve him, and with moat quietnsm
do my duty unto him. From which my choice,
if eiUier ambition of high estate offered unto me
by marriages (whereof J have records in this
presence), the displeasure of the prince, the es-
chewing the danger of mine enemies, or the
avoiding the peril of death (whose measenger,
the prince's indignation, waa no little time con-
tinually present before mine eyes, by whose
means if I knew, or do justly suq)ect, I will not
now utter them ; or, if the whole cause were my
sister herself, I will not now charge the dead),
could have drawn or diasaaded me, I had not
now remained in this virgin's estate wherein you
see me. But so conatant have I always con-
tinued in this my determination that (although
my worda and youth may seem to some hardly
to agree together), yet it is true that to this day
I stand free from any other meaning that either
I have had in times past or have at this present
In which state and trade of living wherewith I
am so thoroughly acquainted Qod hath so hither-
to preserved me, and hath so watchful an eye
upon me, and so hath guided me and led me by
the hand, as m; full trust is, be will not suffer
me to go alone." After these somewhat round-
about, ambiguous, and ascetic expreBBioua — which
were anti-Protestant, inasmuch as they showed
a preference for a single life — she gave the com-
mons a foretaste of that absolute and imperaUve
tone which she soon adopted;— "The manuer of
your petition," said she, "I do like, and take in
good part, for it is simple, and containeth no
limitation of place or person. If it bad been
otherwise I mnat have misliked it very much, and
thonght it in you a very great presumption, being
nu£t and altogether unmeet to require them
that may command." In still pluner terms she
told them that it was their duty to obey, and not
to tske upon themselves to bind and limit her in
her prooeedings, or even to press their advice
Upon her. As if doubting whether the

would rely on her detanxunation of never many-
iug, she assured them that at all events she would
never choose a hnsband but one who should be
as careful for the realm and their safety ss she
heraeU was; and she made au end of a very loag
speech by saying — "And for me it shall be Boffi-
cient that a marble stone declare that a queeo,
having reigned such a time, lived and died s

At this moment Elizabeth had received one
matrimonial proposal, Uie strangest of the many
that were made to her. When she announced
to King Philip the death of his wife and her own
accesdon, that monarch, regardless of canonical
laws, made her an instant offer of bis own hand;
for, BO long OB be could obtain a hold upon Eng-
land, he eared little whether it was througli s
Mary or an Elizabeth. With a duplidty Which
was the general rule of her conduct she gave
Philip a certain degree of hope, for she was vmy
anxious to recover Calais through his means, and
England was still involved in a war both with
Fmnce and Scotland on hia acooont It wonlil
besides have been dangerous to give the Spaniud
any serious offence at this moment.

On the 8th of May, Elizabeth's first psrliament
was dieeolved, and on the Ifith of the same
month, the bishops, deans, and other churchmen
of note, were summoned before the queen and
her privy council, and there admonished to maka
themselves and their dependants conformable to
the statutes which had just been enacted. Arcb-
bisbop Heath replied by reminding her majesty
of her siatei's recent reconcIUation with Bome,
and of ker ovnpromut net to ehangt lAe rdigion
wkich thefoand by lam atabluh^; and he told
her that his conscience would not sufier him to
obey her present oommands. All the Inshopn
took precisely the same couise as Ueatb; aod
the government, which evidently had expected to
win over the majority of them, was startled si
their unanimous opposition. To terrify then
into compliance, certain papers, which had been
sealed up in the royal closet at the death of the
late queen, were produced by advice of the Esrl
of Sussex ; and these documents, which had bio
dormant during two short reigns, were found, or
were made, to conttun proofs that Heath, Bonner,
and Gardiner, during the protectorate of Somer-
set, had carried on secret intrigues with Kome,
with the view of overthrowing the English gov-
ernment of that time. But the bishops, feeling
themselves screened by two general pardons from
the crown, continued as firm as ever; and the
council wisely determined that these papers could
not fairly be acted upon, and resolved to pit>c«ed
merely upon the oath of supremai^, which they
saw the prelates were d^ermined to refuse at all

,v Google

ELIZABETTtt

79

costa. ItsppevB that this oAth was fint offered
tu Bonner on the 30th of May. Bonner refuaed
to Bwear, upon which proceedings were instituted
to deprive him of biB bishopric. In the course of a
few months the oath wasteadered to the rest, and
thej all refused it moat decidedly, with the Hiogle
exception of Kitchen, Bishop of LlAndaff, who
had held that see since I54S, through all changes,
and who was detemiiDed to keep it.' A consid-
entble number of subordinate church digaitariea
were also deprived bj means of this teat; but the
great body of the clergy complied when, in the
courae of the summer, the queen appointed a
general visitation to compel the obaervance of
the new Protestant formularies. Before the eud
of 1SS9 the E^Iiab church, so long contended
[or, was lost for ever to the P^>ists.' In the
course of the same year the two statutes, com-
monly denominated the Acta of Supremacy and
Unifonnity, were converted into the firm basis of
that leetrictive code of laws which, for more than
two centuries, pressed so heavily upon the adhe-
rents to the Koman church. By the first, every
conacientioDs Catholic, who refused to take it,
lost the rights of citizenship, and might at any
time be viaited with heavy paina and penalties.

The seoond statute trenched more on the natu-
nl rights of conscience; it prohibited, under pain
of forfeiting goods and chattels for the first
offence, of a year's imprisonment for the second,
and imprisonment for life for the third, the udng
of any but the established JAtjitgy of the Church
of England ; and it moreover imposed a fine of
1«. on every one that should absent himself from
the only true Protestant church on Sunday and
holidays.' By this act the Catholic rites, how-
ever privately celebr&ted, were interdicted. In
some respeota, where it was not deemed expe-
dient to irritate persona of very high rank, the
government connived at the secret or domestic
exercise of the Boman religion; but such cases
were rare even in the early part of Elizabeth's
reign ; and the restored Protestant clergy, who
liad learned no toleration from their own suffer-
ings, propelled the agents of government into
the paths of persecution. Aa early as 1A61, Sir
Edward Waldegrave and his lady were sent to
the Tower for hearing mass and keeping a Popish
priest in thetr house. Many othei's were pun-
ished for the same offence about the same time.
The penalty for causiug mass to be said was only

100 marks for the first offence, but these eases
seem to have been referred to the Protestant
high commission court, and the arbitrary Star
Chamber, whose violence, however illegal, was
not often checked. About a year after the com-
mittal of Sir Edward Waldegrave and his lady,
two zealous Protestant bishops wrote to the
council to inform them that n priest had been
apprehended in a lady's bouse, and that neither
he nor the servants would be sworn to answer to
articlee, saying that they would not accuse them-
selves. After which these Protestant prelates
add^'':iSoina do thiiii tkta if thu print might
bt pat to tome kind of tormetU, and to driven
to confem what he knowelh, hi might gain the
pieerit majuty a good mait of money bt/ the
maetei thai he hath raid; but this tire refer to your
lordthip't mtdoia.'' It is dishonest to deny so
obvious a fact, nor can the denial now serve any
purpose: it was this commencement of persecu-
tion that drove many English Catholics beyond
the seas, and gave rise to those associations of
unhappy and desperate exiles which continued
to nieuace the throne of Elizabeth even down to
the last years of her loug reign. In the same
year, 1559, which saw the enforcing of the Sta-
tutes of Supremacy and Uniformity, the queen
published certain iajuneiiont after the manner
of those of her brother, and, for the better part,
expressed in the very laiue words aa those of
Edward, twelve years before. There was, how-
ever, a greater decency of language in several of
the daoses, and the Church of Borne was treated
with more courtesy than in Edward's time. Ac-
cording to Edward's commands, images, shrines,
pictures, and the like, were to be destroyed, nor
was any memoiy of the same to be left in walls
and glass windows. Elizabeth enjoined that "the
walls and glass windows shall be neverthelesB
preserved."

Meanwhile the monastic establishments were
universally broken up ; three whole convents of
monks and nuns were transferred from England
to the Continent; many of the dispossessed clergy
were conveyed to Spiun in the retinue of Feria,
the Spanish ambassador, and the deprived bishops
were committed to safe keeping in England. The
number of these prelates was not so consideisble
as might have been supposed. Through various
circumstances, but chiefly by deaths (Cor tbe re-
cent epidemic had been very fatal to elderly per-

be]l««d or prof^Md mceordtni to

liBHof HaiTT VIIL, wlwD hanosi*
nltjfslal Rumuiliin hsid b; tint

<WM to UiK crown, ha tanad baok
k*< eri^iuUj itulBd, ind btomo <
Nun ha tnmad PrrtintaBl italn, i
b&liojinoDf LlADdaff bo tha j««r15

la TOTKl wiU. In tha

to nj tlut ooe of thi
<1 Oilndal, Biihop at Lomlan, wl
iince atka, in (ha Uma of Huy.

»Google

80

HISTORY OF ENOLAND.

[Cn.

D MlL1T*W.

Bona), there vere mnny vacaueies at Elizabeth's
acceMion, so that (Kitchen of Llandaff, as already
mentioned, being allowed to retain his aee) all
the bishops that she had to deprive were, four-
teen in actual poaBestiioii, and three bishops elect.
For some time after their depriTation these pre-
lates were left to themselves and their poverty;
but on the 4th of December (1059) Heath, Bon-
ner, Bourne, Tuberville, and Poole imprudently
drew upon themselves the queen's attention bj
|ire»entiiig a petition, iu which, after praising
her virtuous sister, Queen Mary of happy mem-
ory, who, being troubled in conscience with what
her father's and brother's advisers had caused
them to do, had most piously restored the Catho-
lic faith, and extinguished those schisms and
heresies for which Ood had poured out his wrath
upon most of the malefactors and misleaders of
the nation; they called upon the queen to follow
her example without loss of time, and concluded
by praying that God would turn her heart and
preserve her life, and also make her evil advisers
ashamed and repentant of their heresies.' Eliza-
beth replied, in gi-eat wrath, that these very
memorialists, or at least Heath, Bonner, and
Tuberville, with their former friend, "their ffreat
Stephen Gardiner," had advised and flattered her
father in all that he did; and shortly aft«r the de-
prived bishops were committed to prison. Bon-
ner, the worst of them, was conveyed to the
Marshalsea on the 20tli of April, 1660, where lie
was kept for more than nine long years, when he
was liberated by death, on the 6th of September,
1569. After passingdifferentpcriodsintheTower
and other prisons, all of them, with the exception
of Bonner, were quartered by government, appa-
rently from motives of economy, npon the Pro-
testant biahopewho had succeeded them, or upon
rich deans or other dignifieil churchmen— an ar-
rangement which could not have been very agree-
able either to hosts or guests.

The settlement of the national religion had
cost Elizabeth and her council much more time
and trouble than the adjustment of the difficul-
ties in the foreign relations of the country. After
a little n^otiation, England was included in a
general treaty of peace, signed at Cateau-Cam-
bresis on the 2d of April, 1G69, within six months
after her accession. The only impediment had
been in Elizabeth's earnest desire to recover pos-
session of Calais, but, by the advice of Cecil, she
wisely consented to a clause in the treaty which
saved her honour, though it could not have led
hertobelieve that any King of France would erer
liave either the will or the power to fulfil it. It
was agreed that Calais should be retained by the
French king for eight years, and that at the end
of that period it should be delivered to the English

qneen or her successor, upon certain condition*.'
Scotland, as the ally of France, was induded in
the treaty of Cateau-Cambresis. Philip of SpaJn
did not, for the present, conceive or show aoy
serious displeasure at Elizabeth's declining the
honour of his hand : he soon after took to wife
the daughter of Henry II., King of France, who
had been affianced to his own son, Don Carlos;
and he warmly recommended to Elizabeth, as a
husband in every way suitable, his own conan,
the Archduke Charles of Austria, son of the Em-
peror Ferdinand.

According to every canonical law of the Bomin
church, according to the notions of nearly every
Catholic in England, the claim of Mary Stuart
to the English succession was far preferable Ut
that of her cousin Elizabeth. The Guises repre-
sented that Anne Boleyn's marriage had never
been lawful — that it had been pronounced null
and void by a sentence of the church — that the
attainder of Elizabeth's blood had never been re-
versed even by her own parliament, and that Uaiy
of Scotland, though passed by in the willofHeniy
YIII., and overlooked by the EngUah nation,
was, by right of descent and purity of birth, id-
disputably entitled to the throne. In a Hbd
moment (or Mary, she and her husband quar-
tered the royal arms of England with their own,

Fmm ■ •«! In tb« Rajnil CDlicction of Fnuws.

and even assumed the style of King and Queen
of Scotland and England. But Elizabedi did
not wait for this provocation to a most deadly
quarrel She resolved to anticipate events— to
undermine the authority of Mary in the neigh-
bouring kingdom, so aa to leave her neither a

' "Thl>'Hliii)>tJ«FnniihUii«'><»Uoctlcii>slPui>.>B^
HU to hiTa b«« SMd bf Miuj daring ba widoitlHwi ""
whilit ih* MwrtKj hn- rif bt of iBBUBldo la ll» Hiwn of ™«-

,v Google

A.D. 16fi8— 1560.] ELTZJ

Sixittiah nor an English throne; mid thia plan
WB8 ftcted upon through » long series of jaars
with eonBanunate and wonderful art Bnt the
condition of Scotland serred Elizabeth better
than ail the akill of her statMmen and diploma-
tists, greftt as it woa. That conntry waa rent by
factiona and religions controTorsiee, more fierce,
more determined than ever. Mary's mother, the
qneen-regeut, like the whole family of the Ouises,
was devotedly attached to the Church of Bome,
and, as a IVeuchwoman, ehe was natnraUy the
enemy of the Scottish Reformers, who had all
along leaned to England. The Beformers pillaged
monasteries, bomed churches, and committed
otiier excesses; and the Catholics still cried for
the stake ami fagot against these sacrilegious
miscreanta. Uary of Quise, the qaeeu-reg^t,
invited or snmiDoaed all the Beformed cle^ to
appear at Stirling on the 10th of May, 1569, to
gire an account of their conduct. These Befor-
mem went to the place appointed, bnt so well at-
tended with armed friends and partizans, that
thsir opponents were atterly dannted. The re-
mit of this meeting was, that the queen-regent,
in the preseDoe of their superior force, pledged
her word that no proceedings should be insti-
tuted for deeds that wers past, provided only
they would remiuD peaceable for the future.
According t« the Beformers, they had scarcely
dispersed when she, without any new stir or
provocation on their part, caosed them to be pro-
ceeded against in their absence. Bnt it most be
observed that many of the Beformers were men
of the most ardent zeal, who considered the re-
maining quiet under the rule and dominion of
Papists as an abominable connivance with Satan.
Among these must certainly be included the
famous John Enoz, the very head and front of
the CaJvinistic Beforroation in Scotland — the
pnptl and bosom friend of Wiahnrt, who had per-
ished at the stake in Oudinal Beaton's time. On
the 11th of May, the very day after the meeting
at Stirling, John Knox preached in Perth with
his usual vehemence against the mass, idolatrous

BETH. 8J

worship, and the adoration of saints and imsgai.
Wlien a priest proceeded to say mass as usual, a
boy called this act idolatry — he received a blow
—he retaliated by throwing stonea at the priest,
and damaged a church picture. The iconoclastic
fury spread like flames running over gunpowder
— pictnrea, atatuea, marble fonts were broken to
pieces, wherevar they could be isached — " temjde
and t«wer went to the ground' with hideous
(Tash.' The Eeformera of England had rested
aatiafied with the destruction of the ornaments
and accessories, and had, geneislly, left the
walla of the abbeys untouched; but the zeal of
the Scots was far more unsparing— they wished
not to leave one stone upon another, and it was
a maxim with John Knox that the best way of
preventing the rooks from ever returning was
to destroy their nests. The queeu-r^ient had no
means of checking this spirit of destruction.
John Xnox, by a, single blast of his spiritual
trumpet, asaembled an irregular but a numerons
army; and now the churchea and monasteries
which had escaped before fell almost as suddenly
as the walls of Jericho at the tmrapet of Joshua.
Of late nearly the whole body of the Bcottish
>bility had fallen off front the queen-regent
and enrolled themselves under the banner of
Knox, who, after all, was the real chief and
leader of this holy war. Many of ths lords acted
from a conscieutions dislike of ths old superati-
tions; bnt thei-e were few of them whose Mai
for the gospel light was not allied with a greed
after worldly lucre: and as for toleration, when it
was not found in England, it could scarcely be
looked for in Scotland. Matters were made
much worse when the queen-rc^nt brought in
fresh troops from France to support her insulted
and tottering government. The rabble, how-
ever, who had not made up their minds to die
martyrs, submitted in the towns and places where
theee disciplined troopa were stationed, and the
Protestant cJtiefs were fain to conclude another
tre^y, and to content themaetvea with toleration
and freedom of conscience, without insisting upon

mmj u> uT ol th

n. DUf li**> anMol tbg mob
At ths tat tinu, I muit itpntMa Uwt ipiiit
m penoDi to nag^lj ixn^aiarit^, wid dwell vltii

.»»|»..j......l md Ubnal -Inri, will It

. b* *ntIaaUBtfT nnc. (DC lb* muflad
1f1n»i of -'11' — , toni pletiina, ind nlud tomnl I will
(BftiUtwud iv.tiBt I look ajn ths dtnraotkn oT th«a*
smmBts M ■ ptses of gooi polier, whfoh oontrflntal
lUlf (s ths OTSiUuoiw of Ihs Romu CsUialk isUgioii, ai
fimaU«o(lt«i>4s»tblUiB«t ItwHcfatof ' '
ToLH

wtfcMim* of tvmplosi s^ tbs iploidld «Lpi«zmtiB ot Ito wcnhip,
thmt ths Pof^li cJiqnh fmmMn±.tfft thfl ■«■■« Slid Jmaglutioiu
of tba psople. Thsrs ocpold not, thsrefOn. bs s mors nooflarfU
usthod or stMoklBf It thu ths dsmoUtion of tbaK Thsn b
morn wlidinD thin muj Hm h> psnslira, in ths mudm which
Knox Is said to bun liumlialiid. ' Thst tba bast wv to kssp tbs
o pnU dows their wid.' In de-
Lbltsbls nil thseo bnlldEiiff wbleh
of tAo WKdsDt npaiUtJon {«■-
oept whit wsn FsqaMts for the Frotsstmt wonhlp) , tJks Rs-
SRmart oDlf HtoJ « the piinslplss of ■ prodat lenanl, who
MM Ihs outlas ud ftirtiaoMloBi whldi bs k nuUs to hssp,*
ud whkA ml^it sftorwsfdibe idndsiid duplojad J^lnst Mm
bj tha aiMinT. Had the; ban itlowsd (o nmilii, the Popleh
olersy VDold not haTs ooaaed to hHlnlgs bope^ aod to maks

»Google

82

HtSTORY OF ENGLAND.

[0.v:

O MlUTABT.

Lhe immediate and total aappresBion of Fapistiy;
but this thej onlj considered as a temporary sacri-
fiee of principle to eipedieney — as a connivance
whict was not to last ; )uid headed hj tlie Earln
of Argjle, Morton,and Glencaim, the Lord Lorn,
Erakine of Dan, and others, tbey formed a gene-
ral Protestant league, entered privately into
agreements, and, Btyling themselveti the Lords
of the Congregation, published a Bolemn protest
against the abominations and corruptloDS of
Popery. Among thow who went over to the
Lords of the Congregation, was the Earl of Arran,
formerly regent, who had now for some years re-
joiced in his French title of Duke of Chatelle-
ratdt, and whose religion was of a rety elastic
nature. But their principal leader — a man of ex-
tisordinary abilities, whatever we may think of
his honour or virtue — was James Stuart, prior,
or commendator, of the monastery of St. Andrews,
a natuml son of the lat« king, the unfortunate
James V,, and half-brother of the beautiful
Uary Stuart This man professed a wonderful
Eeal for the new religion, whereby, not less than
by his talents, he attached to himaelf what was
now most decidedly the popnUr and the stronger
party.

At this critical moment the absent Mary Stuart
had become Queen of FraniM, a transitory gran-
deur, which only lasted as it were for a moment,
uid which tended still further to increase the
jealousies of the Scots and to embarrasB her
friends in her native country. Her father-in-
Uw, Henry IL of France, had not been very
happy since the ugning of the (to him) disadvan-
tageous treaty of Caleau-Cambresis, but the im-
mediate cause of his death was an accident&l
wound in the eye from a broken lance while tilt^
ing. He expired on the 10th of July, 1SS9, in
the forty-first year of his age, and was succeeded
by his eldest son, the huaband of Maiy, under
the title of Francis II. In this manner the Scots
became more and more confirmed in Uieir idea
that their country waa to l>e held and treated aa
a Freuch province or dependence ; and hence
every Frenchman, every ship, every bale of goods
tliat arrived from France was looked upon with
a jealous eye. Nor did Frands and Mary, on
their accession to the Fr^ich throne, neglect to
take measures for the re-establishment of the
royal power in the northern kingdom. In the
end of July, 1000 French soldiers landed at Leith ;
and that the spiritual interests might not be
neglected, Francis and Marj- sent with these men-
at-arms a certain number of orthodox divines
from the Sorbonne. With these reinforcements,
and giving out that more were coming, the queeO'
r^^nt took possession of I^ith and quartered
the odious Papistical and foreign soldiers on the
townspeople When the citizens of Iieith com-

plfdned, she assured them that the measure wu
necessary for the preservation of her dauf^ter's
throne, and that she could not, and would not,
desist until the lords should dismiss their umed
men. The Lords of the CougregaUon had of
course less intention than ever of laying down
the sword — their party was daily increamng,aud
that of the queen-dowager was as rapidly declin-
ing. At this crisis it seems to have fallen prin-
dpally to the preachers to expound the lawful
nesB of resistance to constituted authorities^ and
in BO doing some of them occasionally brosched
doctrines, which, however sound in themsdres,
and adopted in later times, were exceedin^j
odious to all the royal earn of Europe, whether
Catholic or Protestant. But the Scotch Protes-
tants soon found that the CUholics were still
powerful — that many, even of their own com-
munion, disapproved of their extreme measures,
and looked upon their conduct as rebellion— thst
the foreign troops were formidable from the ex-
cellent state of their disdpline and appointmenta
— that the chief fortresses of the kingdom were
in their hands — that money was pouring in froni
France, and that the Lords of the Congregatdou
were, as usual, excessively needy. In this emer-
gency, they resolved to apply for assistance tn
the Queen of England. Elizabeth was solenmly
bound by the recent treaty of Cateau-Cambiesii
to do nothing in Scotland to the prejudice oF
Uary's rights and authority; but then Mar}',
since the signing of that treaty, had behaved dis-
respectfully to one of Elizabedi's servants; and
it was known or ahrewdly suspected that tbe
Catholic fanatics, who mainly ruled the ooundli
of the fVench court, were determined, on Ihefiist
favourable opportunity, to asaert the Scottish
queen's rights and strike a blow in England for
Mary, Qod, and church. We will not pretend
to say that, if all these provocations had been
wanting, Elizabeth would not have adopted pre-
cisely the same line of conduct, which was nothing
but a drawing out of the old line of Henry VIII.,
which tell to her as a political heii^looni. When
the matter was debated in the English coundl,
there was, however, some difference of opinioD,
and a strong repugnance on the part of the queen,
to what was deemed the anarchical polity of John
Knox. The Scottish lords, or rather the great
English statesmen who espoused their cause, put-
ting aude the delicate question of rebellion and
aiding of rebels, represented that the Fiendi
were keeping and increasing an army in Scot-
land, and Miming Hi nothing less than the entiro
possession or mastery of the country; that Scot-
land would only prove a step to England; that
when the Protestants there were overpowered,
the French and Catholics would undoubtedly ttj
to place Maty Stuart on the throne of England,

,v Google

AJi. 1868— lOfla] ELIZi

and renew the tyraimj of Mary Tndor; that the
Rnfety of the queen, the state, the church, the
liberty of England, depended esaentially on th«
tun which aflkire might take ia ScotUod.' The
correcbieBa of these viewa wai undeniable, and
it was therefore reeolved to support the Protee-
t*nt nobility in their struggle with the quew-
regent; bat with aach secrecy aa neither to bring
upon the Iiorde of the Congregation the odium of
being the friends and penuonen of Snglaud, nor
to engage Elizabeth in an open war with her
rioter and riraL' Elizabeth had not far to look
for an agent competent to manage this buaineas:
our old friend %r Balph Sadler, who knew Scot-
Und better than any Englishman, who had been
in old times the bosom friend of tiie Scottish
lords in the pay of Henry VIIL, many of whom
fignred in tlie new movenientfl, had quitted his
runJ retiremeDt at Hackney on the acoession of
her present majesty, who had forthwith appointed
him to a seat in her privy council. He was full
of energy, and he entered on his new daties with
a happy anUcipatiun of success. In the course
of the month of August, Cedl issued a couunis-
sion to Sir Balph to ssttle certain disputes con-
ceming Border matters, and to superintend the
repaiiB which it was proposed to make in the
fortifications of Berwick and other English foi^
trasBCB on or near to the Borders. Percy, Earl of
Northumberland, and Sir James Croft, the go-
vernor of Berwick, were joined in the commission,
but more for form tlian for anything else; for
Northumberland, as a Papist himself, was sns-
peeted — and the whole business was, in fact, io-
tmst«d to Sadler. The repairs which were ao-
toally b^un on a large scale at Berwick seemed
a Tery suffident reason to account for Sadlei^
protracted stay; and Elizabeth had "thought
necemary to provoke the qaeen-r^;ent, her good
sister, to appoint some of her miniatera of like
qualities to meet with the said earl (Northum-
berland) and the said Sir Ralph and Sir James.'
Sadler was thus Inmight into contact with Scot-
tish commissioners, whom ha waa instructed to
bribe. By hia privata powers and instructions,
in Cecil's hand-writing, be waa authorized to
confer, treat, or practise with any manner of
penon of Scotland, either in Scotland or Eng-
land, for his purposes and the furthering of the
queen's service ; to distribula money to the dis-
a0ected Soots, as he should think proper, to the
■monnt of £3000, bat he waa always to proceed
with such discretion and secrecy, that no part of
his doings should awaken suspicion or impair
the peace lately ooncladed between Elizabeth and

ir (ChU; with U

■ VkHs fltaWt Blofimphlal HnnolTi^ Sli tUlph Badlar, pis-
tai %o IM BLau rapm ini IMtn iifBiT HalfA aailtr, Kiti^
taoBV, sUtad bj .^nhiir CU?ord.

Scotland. Sir Ralph soon reported progress to
the cool and circumspect CecU, telling him that
if the Lords of the Congregation were properly
encouraged and comforted, there waa no donlA
aa to the result On his arrival at Berwid he
bad found in that town a secret meaaenger sent
from Snos to Sir James Croft (who appear to
have been old friends}, and by msans of this
messengn' they signified to Knox that tlity wished
that Mr. Henry Balnaves, or some other discreet
and trusty Seotaman, might repair "in secret
manner" to such place as they had appointed, to
the intent that they might confer touching affairs.
Bir James Croft had understood from Knox that
his party would require aid of the queen's majesty
for the entertainment and wages of 1500 arqne-
buaiers and 300 horsemen, which, if they might
have, then France (aa £noi said) should "soon
understand their minds." To thia demand for
aid, Sadler had so answered as not to leave them
without hope: but he ia anxious "to understand
the queen's majesty's pleasnre in that part, wish-
ing, if it may be looked for that any good efiect
shall follow, that her majesty should not, for tlie
spending of a great deal more than the charge of
their demand amonnteth unto, pretermit such an
opportunity." Bnt it was money, ready money,
that the Scottish Reformers needed. "And to
say our poor minds unto you," continues Sir
Balph, "we see not but her highness must be at
some charge with them ; for of ban vordt only,
though they mag be eomforlahU, get can they re-
ceim no oomfort." This letter was written on the
SOth of August (ISe9), immediately after Sadler's
arrival at the scene of intrigue, and on the same
day John Knox was requested to send his secret
agent to Holy Me. By a letter dated on the
24th of the same month, Elizabeth told Sadler
that he should immediately deal out "in the
secretest manner' the money committed to him
at his departure from London, " to such penons
and to such intents as might most effectually
further and advance that service which luui been
specialty recommended unto him." And on the
aaue day Cecil addressed to Amu, or Chatel-
Isranlt, a much more remarkable letter, which
it should appear Sir Balph was to forward to its
destination. From some expressions used by
Cecil, it should almost seem that Elizabeth enter-
tiuned the uoUou of uniting the two kingdoms
under her own dominion, without any reference
to the rights of Mary; but the Scottish nation
was certainly not prepared for any such measure,
nor did the fastest pace of the Lords of the Con-
grcfpition come up with it. On the SSth of Au-
gust the Queen-regent of Scotland, in the name of
PrancisandMary, King and Queen of the Frendi
and Scots, appointed Scottish conunisalonsrs to
treat with Sadler and NoHhnroberlaud for the

,v Google

84

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CiVtL AHD MlUTABr,

iettlement of the Border diaputra, the release of
prisoneTB on both aidefl, and the establiahisg a
sound and lastiiig tninquillity on the frontiers of
tho two kingdoms, the seat of ancient and fierce
enmities. These coninuBaionen were the infam-
ous Jamea Hepbam, Eart of Bothwell, who, a few
yean later, inrotved Queen Maij in di^nee and
deatnictioD ; Sir Richard Maitland of I«thiiigton,
father of the celeb»t«d secretary of Maiji M>d
Sir Walter Cor, or Ker, of Cessford, ancestor
of the Dnkes of Roxburgh. Sir Ralph Sadler
thooffht fit to postpone the meeting to the 11th
of September, and ^fl Scottish commisaioners do
not appear to have been sensible of the fact that,
in the meanwhile, those of England were activelj
corresDonding with the inBorgenta. Great caution
was used in that matter. In conformity with
Cecil's advice, a comfortable letter was drawn up
between Sir Ralph Sadler and Sir James Croft
to the Lords of the Congregation, expressing their
heariy sonvw at understanding that their godly
enterprise, tending principally to the advance-
ment of God's glory, and neit to the safegnard
and defence of their natural country from the
conqnest of the f^nch nation, should be nnfor-
tnnately stayed and interrupted.' Bnt this letter
was not sent to its destination; and it seems to
have been stopped in consequence of the joamey
into Scotland of the son and heir of the Dnke of
Chatellerwilt, who had been in England in close
conference with Cecil, by means of whom the
neceasaiy encouragement might be transmitted
to the insurgents by word of mouth, Ihns dimin-
ishing the chance of committing Queen Eiieabeth
as a fomenter of the rebellion.

The ez-regenfs son, who at this time bore his
father's former title of Earl of Arran, stole into
Scotland with an English pass, under the aasumed
name of Uonsienr de Beaufort, and he was accom-
panied by Master Thomas Randall, or Randolph,
an able and intelligent agent of Queen Elizabeth,
an adept in secret intrigues, who assumed, for the
nonce, the name of Bamyby.' This Randall, or
Randolph, alias Bwnyby, remuned a consider-
able time in Scotland, being in fact the reeident
envoy of Elizabeth to the Lords of the Congre-
gation. He occasionally corresponded directly
with the queen's council, but more generally wiUi
Sir R. Sadler. On the 8th of September, three
days before the appointed meeting with the com-
missioners of the Queen^'^nt of Scotland, Sadler
wrote to inform Cecil that Mr. Balnaves had at
last arrived at midnight from the Lords of the
Congr^ation, and had made him " the whole dis-
course of all their proceedings from the be^n-
ning,* English money and promises had worked

H "a ffmtlsDui of (nir good bnthBT thtt Frvoh Ung / ' BunjT^,

the denred eSect; the Lords of the CougtegatioD
were encouraged to strike another blow.

In an armistJoe concluded at the Links of Leitli
on the 24th of the preceding month of July, it
was covenanted — 1. That the town of Edinboigta
ahonld use what religion they pleased. £. That
no one should be prosecuted for religion. 3. That
no garrison should be placed in Edinbor^ A
dispute arose concerning the posseasion of the
hig^ chnreh of St. Giles' in Edinburgh, which
the queen-regent denred to retain for the exer-
cise of the Catholic worship, and which the
Reformers were equally eager to occupy. But, in
fact, John Knox was determined to drive the
Romish clergy from every church, from every
altar, whether public or private, and thus, ivaar-
diatety after the agreement of the links of Leith,
he extended his demands, inusting that mats
should not be aud even within the precineta of
the palace of Holyrood. Sadler granted the
Lonb of the Congregation for the preeent ^2000,
telling their envoy, that if tbej made a good use
of it, and kept the secret, and the queen's konatr
untouched, they should soon have more. Bal-
naves returned well satisfied to the Lords of the
Congr^ation, who took the money as secretly u
possible. In the same long letter, in which he
reports all that had passed with Balnaves, Sir
Ralph informs Cecil that there were other Scotr
tish Protestants, as Kirkoldy of Grange, Ormes-
ton, and Whitlaw, "which hava spent much for
this matter, whereof they be earnest proseentors;
and, having lost fifteen or uxteen months' pay,
whioh they should now have had out of Prance,'
looked for some relief, and had been put in sontB
hope thereof; "but," continnes Sadler, "becaose
we have been so liberal of the queen's pnne,
albeit it pleased bar majesty to commit the same
to the discretion of me tiie said Sir Ralph, yet
we would he glad to know how her higimess
liketh or misliketh what we have done befon we
do any more." Eliabeth was obliged to send
down more money to Berwick, some of which
was paid to Eirkaldy, Omeeton, and Whittaw,
and some, it should appear, to the Earl of Arran,
the son of the Duke of Chatetletault the ei-re-
gent In a day or two Arran was safely deliv-
ered in Teviotdale to one of his friends, who
undertook to convey him surely and secretly to
his father in the oastle of Hamilton ; and it ^
pears to have been after this return of his son
that the ex-rcgent fully dedared for the Lords
of the Congregati<m. Meanwhile, on the ap-
pointed day, Sadler, with Croft and the Earl of
Northumberland, met the commissioners of the
queen-regent upon the frontiers. A dispute about
the wording of their respective commissions con-
sumed some time, and then, with proper diplo-
matic slowness, Sadler proceeded to business — a

»Google

-IBM.]

ELIZABETH.

85

bnsinera which, like all Border dispoteo, coald be
lengthened ad it^nUvm. Daring theae diacua-
doiis Knox Bent his preachen over the country ;
the qaeen-regent "feU into a gre&t malaiicholf
and diaplaaanre ;' the Gongregatioii began to as-
•emble, and the Frenchmen begui to deviae meana
for their own defense. Had die but known h^
the intrigaea that were at work, the queen-regent
had good reason to be melanehol;. Her secra-
tuj, William Maitland, wrote to Sadler's aaao-
ciate, Sir Jamee Croft, desiring him to hare no
leas good opinion of bim than heretofore, and
ofibring his service to the qaeen'a majesty (Eliza-
beth) in anything that he could ■. "and further,"
safB Croft inajointletter, "he sent me word that
he attokded upon the regent in her court no longer
than till he might have good oocaaion to revolt
unto the Frateetantfl * At the same time, how-
ever, mors troops arrived from EVance, and more
fVench money was placed at the diapoeal of the
qneen-iegent and her party. John Enox was
greatly alanned as to the FmuA money, and h«
immediately beaooght Elizabeth ta coouteract its
dangerous effects ta Uie Protestant interests by
sending more EaglUh money into Scotland. On
his recent return from Oeneva through England
he had had an interview with Cecil, and evidently
had arraaged beforehand the plan of his opera-
tions.' He corresponded afterwards with the
English secretary and others in England; and on
the Slat of September, under the feigned name
of John Sindear, he wrote to Sadler's colleague,
Croft^ a remarkable letter from Bt. Andrews.
Aft«r mentioning the return of the younger
Arran, and how the Lords of the Congregation
had departed for Stirling to join him and his
father, the Dnke of Chatelleraidt, at Hamilton
Castle, he passed at once to the question of
money, and told Mr. Secretary that unless mcn«
money waa aent, especially for some chiefs whom
he had named in writing, it would be impoauble
for them to serve in this action.'

Thoea who take the least bvourable view of
the chaiBcter of John Knox can hardly suspect
that he wanted money for himself, bat he knew
(he world and the mercenary character of most
of the Scottish chiefs; and, besides, the sinews of
war appear te«lly to hare been wanting, and the
CUholic party, as we have seen, were drawing
fimds from France. For a time it was a struggle
of the pnrse between England and France. Eli-
labeth, at all times parsimonious, was at the pre-
sent poor and embartaseed, and yet, under the
wise guidance of Cecil and Sadler, she ciwtinued
to send gold down to Berwick. Meanwhile the
French fortified Leith, as if "intending to keep
themselves within that place, and ao to be maatera

of the chief port and entrance iuto that part of
Scotland i" and the Lords of the Congr^^on
attempted to get possession of Edinbnrgh Castle,
in which, however, they were defeated by Lord
Erakine the governor, who profeaaed to obaerve
neutrality between the contending parties, and
refused to admit either Froteatanta or Catholics.

In spite of all the precaution of the English
queen and the marvetloos address of her agent,
Mary's mother was not altogether blind to what
was passing, and she complained, through her
commissioners, that, without her license and
knowledge, many of the Scottish insut^Dts were
allowed to pass through England into Scotland,
and also out of Scotland into England, to work
ntisohief to her government. It ia indeed certain
that the Cardinal of Lorraine, and others who
directed the councils of that very youthful couple,
would have made Francis and Maiy quarter the
English anas under any circumatouces ; but not-
withstanding this, Elizabeth, with reference to
her own conduct, could not jnstly allege that the
first provocation to their mortal quarrel pro-
ceeded from Uary. It ia almoat idle to consider
thia as a moral question, or as an afbir directed
personally by the - two rival princesaes ; but as
many writera have viewed it in this Ught, it may
be proper to make promineut one or two little
facto, hiary was only in her seventeenth year,
her hualwnd was nearly a year younger, and both
were entirely guided by others. Elizabeth was
in her twenty-aiith year, the mistress of her own
council and actions, an experienced and moat
competent person. If, therefore, a false and un-
fair direction was given to the policy of Mary, it
was her misfortune, or an offence for which
morally she was not accountable, but in Eliza-
beth such a thing would be her own crime.

The ex - Regent Chatellerault took occasion
openly to declare himself ou the French fortify-
ing Leith, and he told the queen-r^nt that she
moat either dislodge them, or be sure that the
nobility of Scotland would not suffer nor endure
it. The regent replied that it was surely as
lawful for her daughter to fortify where she
pleased in her own realm as it was for him, the
duke, to build fortifications for himself at Hamil-
ton Castle, and that she would not remove the
French from Leith unless she were compelled by
force. As soon as these matters were known at
Berwick, where agents and spies were constantly
going and coming, Sadler wrote a short but sen-
tentious letter to his old acquaintance the duke,
assuring his grace that if it might lie in so poor
a man as be was to do his grace any service, he
should find him most willing and ready thereto,
to the uttermost of hia power at all times. The
duke and the Lords of the Congregation sup-
pressed the abbeys of Flusley, Kilwinning, and

,v Google

86

niSTORT OF ENGLAND.

[Cim

D MlUTAET.

Donfermline, burning all the imagea, idols. Bud
Popish stuff in the same, and bj means of Alex-
ander Whitlaw, " a godly man and mott afec-
lumate to England" they aaaured Sadler that thej
would take the field after harreet agaiuat the
FreDch — <nd]/ Ihtt/ v>aiUed tome more taoney, with-
out which they should not be able to keep their
men together. At the same time Enox sued
again for relief fur certain Scottjsh leaders whom
be would Dot name, but whom Sadler set down
as the Earl of Qlencaim, the I^rds of Dun, Or-
nieBtoii,andOrange,andAleianderWhitlaw. La
Brosae and the £iahop of Amiens had arrived with
a few troops at Leith, and more were expected.
I u this posture of affairs Badlerrecommended the
immediate spending of .£4000 or ^COOOO, which
lie thought might save the queen's highness a
great deal another way. While they were get-
ting ready this money in England the regent
wrote to the dnke, reproving him for joining
with the Lords of the CongregatioD, and accusing
him and the said lords of their practices with
Queen Elizabeth. At the same time the regent
spoke of a new agreement, offering to leave off
fortifying Leith, to secure liberty for all men to
use their conscience, and \a send the French out
of Scotland by a certain day ; but the duke an-
swered that he could do nothing without the
Lords of the Congregation. The sum of i^SDOO
in French coin was down at Berwick by the lOtb
of October ; and from Berwick it soon found its
way into the pocketa of the Lords of the Congre-
gation ; but atill those chiefs were slow in taking
the field; and Sadler, through Thoniaa Bandolph,
aliaa Bamyby, told them that they ought to be
more diligent in this great and weighty busineaa.
A few days afterwards Sir Ralph was still more
pressing, telling the Lords of the Congregation
that they ought "to take their time while they
have it, and thereby prevent the malice of their
enemies." Bandolph, who was moving about
with the Scottish lorda, aasured Sadler that some-
thing would be done preaently, for the queen-
regent had set forth her proclamation, and the
Lords of tiie Congregation had aluo set forth thtir
proclamation "aa vehement on the other side,
with full determination to fall to no composition."
By this time contiuual vexation and alarm had
broken the health of Mary of Guisa. "Some,"
writes Bandolph, "think that the regent will
depart secretly ; some that she will to Inch-
keith, for that three ships ar« a-preparing.
Some say that she is very sick : some say the
devil cannot kill her." In the same secret de-
spatch, which, like most of the rest, was written
in a dpher, Bandolph says that the prior of St.
Andrews has just sent to the Earl of Arran a
powerful letter said to be received out of France,
contjuning many news of the great preparations

making in that country against Scotland, utA
earnest advice to the lords to aesk ud of Eng-
land ; "which letter," adds the adroit agent, " I
guess to savour too much of Knox's style (o
come from France, though it will serve to gcod

The queen-regent by this time had conveyed
all her property out of Eolyroodhonse and £diii-
buif^h, into Leith. At last, the Lords of the
Congregation, with the Duke of Chat«lleranlt,
and hia son the Earl of Arran, at their hesd,
marched upon the capital ; the regent, with the
French and the Scottidi lords of the Catholic partj
who yet adhered to her, withdrew at their vp-
proach within the fortified lines of Leith, there
to await ud from France. The lords called a
parliament, and summoned U> E^dinborgb all the
genUemen living upon the Borders, upon pab of
treason in case of non-attendance. On the S2d
of October Balnavee' reported that all hope of
concord had that day been taken away, by reuon
that blood had been drawn largely on both side*.'
At the same time he pressed for more vuma/, and
asked for some English gonpowder.* Two days
after, the Lords of the Congregation themselves
addremed Sadler, telling him that they had de-
prived the queen-regent of her authority, hv
common consent of all the lords and barone pre-
sent at Edinburgh — that they had openl; pro-
claimed her deprivation, had inhibited her offi-
cers from executing anything in her name, and
had further denounced " her F^'ench and aaaa-
tante* as enemies to the commonwealth. Touch-
ing the lords' request for mor« money and for
gunpowder, Sadler replied that he trusted they
would consider ucrtcy above all things — that he
did not see how he could send them powder
without an open show and manifestation of Eh-
aaMth aa an enemy to the French, who were
then in peacs and amity with her: and yet he
adds, if they can devise which way the saniBnuy
be secretiy conveyed unto them, in such sort t»
it could not be known to come from England, he
could be well content that they had as mnch
gunpowder as might be spared from Berwick
conveniently. And likewise for money, he waa
in good hope of having some to send them soon,
but he prayed that they would use such precau-
tions and mysteries as the importance of the
matter and the Aonour of Queen Elizabeth re-
quired, and be more close and secret in their
doings and conferences. Knox, who could re*-

> lU blood WM dnn tn ddnoUiaoDU
Lajth. Kdoi. in hii hiitoiT, aft that thu
but ttithout gnat (Uucbta.

» In pimUnc Mmidl, BalBin Mttat tt cut ■ itHmrtlm ™
htaoollMgw. B( Mill Budaipb Id •hik Unir biiwnn. t>»
Knjfii.h oamBii^oiHn. in hb aunt, Uxt tlu UKI* montr ^
had tna^t wlUi Um hid goiH bnUn Uuo £SO00 itmU ti>«
(0D« IstnuM loujUidj' da*

»Googie

A.O. 1858 -1660.]

ELIZABETH.

non like a politiciBs, had written to Croft or to
Sadler, aajing that the queen-regent " had plainly
■poken tlit she kiiew the raeans how to frustrate
the erpectationa of tiA from Enghmd," by de-
liveriDg up Calais t« Qneen Elizabeth ; and ha
had evidently eipreagod himself aa if he sua-
pected that the English court was coquetting in
that direction. Sir Ralph was very earnest ia
KmoTing this doubt He replied, almost elo-
quently. This letter was written on the 87th of
October: on the last day o( the same month Sir
Balph addreaed Bandolpb, telling him that he
expected every day some good answer from the
coDTt toaehing tie mon^, and that, in the mean-
time, ha forwarded by the laird of Onnetton
j£lOOO sterling in French crowns. As Ormeston
wastraTsUingfiom Berwick towardsEdinbnrgh,
he was set npon by Lord Bothwell, who took the
money-bags ^ra h'm and kept them, apparently
for bia own nse. Ormeston reached the capital
" sorely hurt ;* upon which the Earl of Amn and
the prior of St. Andrews went with 200 horae-
lueo, 100 footmen, and two pieces of artillery,
to Lord Bothwell'a house, " trusting to have
found him ; howbeit they came too late only by
a quarter of an hoor.' They, however, took bis
house and threatened to burn it to tha ground,
and declared the eail atraitor, unless he retomed
the money. Thislosswasamost serious mishap;
bat though both Elizabeth and her chief adviser
Cecil were grieved to the heart by it, they soon
sent more money. At the same time Knox (whose
Bla*l of the Tnanpei agaimt the Mbnttroitt S^-
meni of Women always grated harshly on tha
queen's ear) hod excited appreliension, and jea-
lousy, and disgust, at the English court by bis
advocacy of tha Calvinistic discipline, and of po-
litical tenets that seemed both republican and
democratic. " Of all others," writes Cecil to
Sadler, " Knox's name is most odious here, and,
therefore, I wish no mention of him hither."'
But Cecil was as deeply convinced as ever of the
Qt^Mssity of supporting the Protestant insurrec-
tion. " It is here seeu,* ha says, " by such to
whom it hath been secretly committed, that the
end of this tAeir matter is certainly the beginning
<if outs, be it weal or woe ; and therefore, I see
it will follow necessarily that we must have good
regard that they quail not." In this letter, which
is dated on the 3d of November, he goes much
farther than he bad hitherto gone, aitthoririug
Sadler to tell the Scottish lords that, if they would
forthwith raise a sufficient force, and venture on

His mitiusi Aa do good hi

the siege of Lsith, all the charges should bti
home for them; and that if they took Leitb, in
case of the French making any array by ssa to
invade Scotland, they should be met and hin-
dered if their power appeared greater than the
Scottish Protestants could reasonably withstand.
Sadler entered completely into these viewa,
and was of opinion that now deception could no
longer be practised, by resson of the mischief
whichhadbefalleoOrmestOD. Succour was tbare-
fora sent in more boldly to the Lords of the
Congregation, who, at last, beleaguered Leith.
But in so wretched a stats of discipline whs this
Scottish army, that at eveiy sortie the French
took them by surprise, and gained an advantage
over them. On the 6th of November the Pres-
byterians, commanded by the Earl of Arran and
the prior of St. Andrews, were surrounded in
the msrshes of Bestalrig, and defeated with
some loss by a portion of the French garrison.
Their retreat to Edinburgh was nearly cut off,
and when they got there they fell to serious de-
bating, the end of which was, that the Eari of
Olencairn, with some other lords, resolved to
leave the capital in order to collect more man.
But, finally, upon perceiving that the greatest
part of their force, " which consisted of the eom-
TTumt thst were not able to abide and serve any
longer npon their own costs and charges," ware all
departing from them, the whole of the Congrega-
tion evacuated Edinburgh, and retreated to Stir-
ling by uigbL At the latter place Knox finished
a sermon which he had commenced at Edinburgh
before the departure, and, according to his own
acconnt, "the lords were mnch erected" by it.
He was, no doubt, the great animating principle
in this remarkable contest: hut, while he was
preaching at Stirling, the qqeen-regent and the
French re-entered the capital in great triumph.
I ■an Notwithstanding the effective
preaching of John Knox, and the
reviving spirit of the Scottish Protestants, it soon
became evident that something more must be done
for them than the sending of money to the needy
nobles; and when Elizabeth learned that the
queen-regent was promised fresh supplies and
troops from France, she resolved to make such
preparations as should prevent tha Scots from
being crushed. Therefore, without altogether
giving up her secret practices, or stopping her
private subsidies, she began to prepare a fieet and
an army. Her warlike preparations were soon
nunoured abroad, aud at this moment tlie French
court really made her an offer of the immediate
restitution of Calais, provided only she would
not interfere in the a&irs of Scotland. To this
tempting offer Elizabeth replied, that she could
never put a fishing-town in competition with the
safety of her dominions ; and she continued her

,v Google

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

[ClfflL ASD MlUTART.

prepuatioiiB, and intimated to the Ijorda of the
CoDgregKtion that she wu dow ready to eater
upon a treaty with them. The Scottish lorda
choae for their nc^liat^ir the able William
Maitland of Lethingtou, irho had now deaertad
from hia post of aecretorj to the regent, a step
he had been contemplating for some time. If
the English queen had anj lingering doubta and
miagivingB as to braving a war, thej were eoon
remored bj this troly aceompliahed diplomatiBt.
On the STth of Febiwr she co&claded, at Ber-
wick, a treaty of mntual defence, which waa to
last doring the marriage of the Queen of Soots
with the French king, and for a year after; ahe
■olemnlj promised never to lay down her aims
till the Frencb ahonld be entirely driven out of
Scotland ; and ahe gave eqoally Bolemn aworan-
oes that she would not attack tiie Ubertiea, laws,
and niagea of the Scots.'

In the montli of March, notwithatanding the
stormB of winter, the English fteet, which eon-
aiated of thirteen large ships of war, besides trsn-
sports, appeared in the ilrth of Forth, and at a
critic&l moment, for 4000 Frenchmen, horse and
foot, had been detached from Edinborgh and
Leith, and were then engaged in ravaging the
fertile and Protestant connty of fHfe. D'Oisel,
their general, who had not proceeded nnmolested,
and who was checked by the appearance on his
left flank of numerous Scottish bodies under the
prior of St. Andrews, Lord Ruthven, and Eir-
kaldy of Grange, was transported with joy at the
sight of the gallant fleet, which he mistook for the
long-promised ships of D'Elbeenf, and he wasted
a great deal of valuable gunpowder in firing a
salute. But, preeently. Winter, the English ad-
miral, hoisted his flag, and at that unwelcome
sight D'Oisel turned, and began a difficult and
dangerous retreat. He, however, reached Edin-
burgh, where he found the queen-rq;ent in an
alanning state of health. Foraeeiog the dangers
and hardships to which her sinking frame would
be exposed in a besieged town, the brokeu-hearted
find dying Maiy of Guise implored the Lord
Erskine to receive' her Into the castle of Edin-
borgh ; and his lordship, who still maintained his
curious neutrality and independence, granted her
an asylum upon condition that she should take
only a few attendants into the castle with her.
Quitting his royal misbvss, bis steady and affec-
tionate friend, for ever, D'Oisel threwbimself into
Leith. That place had been well fortified before,
and now he employed a short time allowed him
by the enemy in adding to its defences ; and,
notwithstanding the fact that the English at-
Caeked Leith rather like bnU-dogi than sotdieis,
D'Oisel and ^e French engineers must have
Bvinoed very ooosidenble skill The whole force

of the IVench now in Scotland did not exceed
SOOOroen. An&i^h anny,anionnting to6000
men, nnder the Lord Grey de Wilton, having
marched by Berwidc to Freeton on the eth dt
April, 1C60, joined a considerable force brought
thither by the Lords of the Congregation ; and
while the fleet blockaded the port of I«itfa, and
prevented the airival of any anccour from France,
the united armies of Scotland and England laid
siege to the town on the land side. The Marqnis
d'E]b<Biif had embarked for Scotland with a l^tge
force, but his transports were scatl«red hy a
storm, and either wrecked on the coast of Hol-
land or driven back to France. In this way the
English fleet bad no opportunity of distinguish-
ing itself in battle. The land troops soon gave
glaring proofs that they had in a great degree
lost the habit of discipline, and that they were
nnskilfiilly commanded. They opened their tren-
ches in ground utterly unfit for the pnrpoA, and
their guns were so badly pointed as to make little
or no impression on the bastions which the French
had thrown up, or on the walls of Leith. llieir
line of circumvallation was loose and ragged, and
■o little vigilance was used, that for some time
the French broke through it with impunity. It
soon appeared that Leith, "though not thought
inexpugnable, would percase be found of snch
strength as would require time, and that the
greatest want which the Scottish chieftains did
fear was lack of moneg; for, otherwise, they were
of good courage." This courage, however, bad
been damped by sundry suspicions and misgiv-
ings. At the very commencement of hostilities,
even while the Scotch and English were en-
gaged with the French, Sir Jamea Croft and
Sir Oeorge Howard had an interview with the
queen-regent in Edinburgh Castle. This circum-
stance instantly excited the suspicion of the Lords
of the Congregation, who apprehended that Eli-
zabeth had empowered her diplomatic agents to
make a separate peace, upon conditions advanta-
geous to herself, and that thus the Scottish insur-
'genta would be abandoned to the vengeance of
the !FVench and the queen-mother. And we have
veiy satisfactory evidence to prove that their
feats were not altogether groundless.* There
can be little donbt that the selfish and vacil-
lating Duke of Cbatelleranlt and several noble
lords of his party, who were at beat hut luke-
warm Protestants, would have entered with Eli-
zabeth and the queen-regent into any " reason-
able accord" that would have promoted their per-
sonal interests, and that they would have left
John Knox and the Congregation to shift for
themselves: but^most anspicionsly f or the latter,
Eliiabetli's agents, and VLarj of Guise, who te-
ttuned a h\^ s]Mrit eves in death, oould not

»Googie

4.D. 1558—1560.1

ELIZABETH,

ngree; tha treatj in Edmbnigh Caetle waa br
oir, and in a few days the English queen reeolTed
that the si^e of Leith should be more earnestlj
[jn>Heciit«d, and her forces both by sea and land
augmeoted. At the same time the English com-
manders vera Inalracted not " to cootema or
neglect any reasonable offers of agreement* that
might be made by the Prench. But these veterans
for a long time had no inclination U> make any
offei-B, and they continued to defend Leith with a
skill and bravery which gained for them high hon-
our among aoldiers in every part of Europe. Ac-
cording to Brantome, a seal was put t^i a soldier's
repatation if be could say that be had served in
this g^U&ut defence of Leith.' On the side of
the English and Bcota the operations advanced
very slowly, and their labour was repeatedly ren-
dered of no avail by the ingenuity of the Tnach
engineera. At last a bad breach was made, and
towards this the English, who at least had lost
none of Uieir phyaical coui'age, rushed in blind
fury, heedless of the well-directed artillery of the
enemy: but when they came to use their scaling-
ladders they found tbera far too short for the pur-
pose, and after a dreadful struggle they were re-
pulsed and obliged to flee to their intrenchments,
leaving a ditch half filled with dead— tbe victims
of the ignorsnce or inceDsiderateuess of their
officers. The English were so much dis[Hrited
by their ftulnre on this and other occasions, that
they talked of a retreat; but more money was
sect down to their Scottish alliM, and the Duke of
Norfolk, in addition to several smaller bodies
despatched already, forwarded a reinforcement
of 2000 men. Thus the siege was carried on
more closely than ever, or, rather, it was con-
verted into the closest of blockades.

Matters were in this state when, on the lOtb
of June, the queen-regent breathed her last in
Edinburgh Castle. On her death-bed she sent
for her daughter's half-brother, the prior of Bt.
Andrews, and some others of the Lords of the
Congregation, to whom she earnestly recom-
mended her absent child their queen. The death
of Hary of Guise hastened the conclunon of a
peace, which, however, the French government
was made to desire by other circumstances and
alarming demonstratioDS, which, at the least,
threatenedFrancewilbafieTcecivilwar. Thetwo
brodiera of the deceased Queen-regent of Scotland,
the Cardinal of Lorraine and the Duke of Qnise,
who in fact governed the French kingdom in
the name of Francis and Mary, had excited the
deadly animoaity of the French Prot«stAnts, and
i^ other great and powerful factions : they had
recently discovered an extensive conspiracy di-
rected against the whole house of Lorraine, and
though they had jwevented its outbreak for the

present, they well knew that the eonspirat«rs
would never be reconciled to them. At such a
moment they could not spare fresh troops for the
very doubtful and expensive struggle in Scotland,
and even the veterui force blocked up in Leith
was much missed and ila return anxiously de-
aired. BliEabeth opened a ready ear to some
overtures made by the house of Lorraine, and it
was finally agreed that her commissioners should
have a meeting with certain French commis-
sioners in the town of Berwick on the 14th of
June. The able men appointed by Elizabeth
were Cecil and Dr. Wottou, dean of Oanterbaiy;
the French uegotjators were Hontluc, Bishop of
Valence, and the Count de Randan, both men of
conBummate abilities. These diplomatiats, who
seem to have been very fairly matched, met, and
proceeded on the 16th of June to Edinburgh.
Several days were consumed in settling condi-
tions; but on the 6th of July, about three o'clock

the afternoon, the Lord Grey de Wilton, Sir
William Cecil, and Sir BaJph Sadler, gave orders

" le besiegers' camp that there should no piece
be shot nor show of hostility be made; and on
the following day Sir iEVancis Leake and Sir
Gervase Clifton, accompanied by two French
gentlemen, were sent into the town of Leith to'
eignify unto M. d'Otsel, the Kehop of Amiens,
La Brosse, Uarigny, and other the French lords
and captains, that they were come thither by
command of the commisaioDers of France and
England to cause the peace already concluded to
be proclaimed, which accordingly was done. Leith
then surrendered, and the French governor
D'Oisel regaled the captains of the besi^^ers witb
a banquet of thirty or forty dishes, in which the
only flesh used was that of a salted horse — a cir-
cumstance which, as it baa been observed, marks
national manners and IVench skill, as well as
extremity to which the place had been re-

The treaty, which was the joint production of
Cecil and Sadler, was highly advantageous to
Elizabeth. Besides Leith, Dunbar and Inchkeith
were to be surrendered, and the fortifications de-
itroyed ; the administration of aSaira in Scotland
vas to be vested in a council of twelve Scottish
loblemen, of whom seven were to be named bv
the queen, and five by the parliament^ no foreign
forces were thenceforward to be introduced into
Scotland without the full consent and will of the
Scottish parliament; an indemnity was stipulated
for bU tbinge passed in Scotland since Msreh,
1358; and every man was to be restored to the office
he held before these hostilities, while no French-

Voull.

> rim dm Onaidi a

tu

■ Wallrr SaO, atow nji, " Whna mi pnpand m Ui

tmiiqiHl of tUrtr DT (Mr dlAn. ud j«t WFt ana ettboT of
Aah, uTtin QM of m pgirdaml bdrae. ■> wu ATOuhad b;

»Google

90

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Qvi

D MlUT^RT.

man waa ever to hold anj otEce in ScQtUnd. On
the subject of religion, the main canee of the
Inta var, it was af{reed that the eatatee of the
kingdom ahoold report to Queen Marf aud her
hnaband their opinion and their visbes touching
that matter. At the same time there waa a aepa-
rat« treaty made between France aud England,
bj which France recognized the right of Eliza-
beth to her crown, and agreed that Mary, in time
to come, sbonld neither aasnme the title nor bear
the uma of England.'

The removal of the foreign troops secured the
triamphant sapremacj of the Protestant party,
now l^e najoritf of the Scottish nation of all
rlnimrn. and which henceforward bad the field
almost entirely to itself.

While the Scottish affairs were aa yet un-
settled, the English queen's vanity was flattered
by another pressing offer of mai-riage from her
old suitor Eric, who bad now ascended the throne
of Sweden. In his extreme anxie^ for this
match, Eric sent his own brother, the Duke
of FinUnd, to plead in bis behalf. The Buke
arrived at Harwich, where he waa honourably
received, and conducted to London. Those who
knew her best, knew well that Elizabeth had
never the intention of making any such marriage.

Sir Kalpb Sadler, who was then at Berwick, wrote
to Bandolph in Scotland, that the King of Sweden
had sent a great anibaaHador to the queen's ma~
jesty with great and libenU offers, " which you
maybesure,''headda,"wiUtakeno place." Afew
days after his arrival, Cecil, evidently in amaze,
saya, " We also hear that the Archduke of Aus-
tria is on the way hitherward, not with any
pomp, but rather, as it may seem, by post, in
stealth. The King of Spain is earnest for him.
What may come time will shortly show, I
would to God her majesty had one, and the rest
honourably satisfied.'' The Duke of Austria did
not come, aa jraa expected; but the Kingof Den-
mark entered the arena, aud being unwilling that
his neighbour and rival, the King of Sweden,
should bear off so glorious a prize, he sent hia
nephew, the Duke of Holstein, inki England to
try his fortune with this most royal vii^n. An
elegant writer* has made a parallel between Eli-
zabeth and the fair and wealthy Portia ; but the
queen could hardly exclaim — "While we shut
tlie gate on one wooer, another knocks at the
door" — for she kept her door open for several
suitors at once, coquetting with Sweden, Den-
mark, and Austria, to say nothing of minor pre-
tenders.'

CHAPTER XIV.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— A-D. 1560-156)

ELIZABETH.

The Soot* dincard Pop«ry— Thej ertalilidi Pro!

tioD — DiiturbuiM in Holjrood Chapel — Mmzj'i iDtarriaw with John Bnoi — Diiliks of Mar]''B nibJMt* ta her
amnssmsDts— Knoi'( Tepubliwniim — PoTsrt; at ths Seottiih B«fcirmed clng;— ^Knni's mnoiutmicil on tho
mlycot — Incraaw of EliotlMth'a TeMnrees — Har J»IotUf of riiali — 8bi alliss faanelf aitb the f rototaaU tf
tha Continont— Hncnenot nr io Fmiaa^Eliaibath itid* the Hugntoots — AgUD urged by tb« parliament to
mKTy— New !»*• in ftivirar of tha rojul mpranuwy — Opporition of the Popish p«rty— l*wi >ga,init witeh™,
As.— Hngneoot mr continit«l in Fruuw— Treatj of Cfttherina da" HniicI with tha Hngnanota— Tba En^li
guriion in HaTre compeliad to apitnlata — Tbay bring the pl»gii» into Loudon — A po«M with Fnas*—
TionUei of Queen Mar; in ScotUnd—Her progrea into the Highluidi — Battta of Comobie — Harj'a soiton —
Blinlxth'i duplicity ~8ba propaaet the Earl of Leieaatcr M ■ boaband to Uaiy—Worthlea ohataotw of
LaicMitai^Hii favour with Eliaheth— Interriaw of Mary'i ambaaaador with Laicaatgr— Lord Darnlay appasn
a* a niitor of Mary— Hi« reUtionihip to hei^-Hia ohaiaotar— Progreii of Wi mdt—He ia aeeapted hy Haty—
Inlrlsnei oannectad with tbii union— The Proteitant lordi oppoae it— Tbe "Bound-about Raid "—Plight of
the ininrgenta icto England— Thair iwsptiou tarn Elizabeth- Uary't eomplaizits ^aiuat tha Earl at Moray—
Sba joinatbe Catholia alliuics againit Protertantiiin.

Ij S soon as the Scota were relieved of
I the presence of the French army
they proceeded to settle their reli-
gion. The parliament assembled
tha 1st of August, 1560, in
greater numbers than had ever
been known before ; and their first buuuess was

to receive and discuss a petition from the chief
Lords of the Congregation, who required a formal

goLdan dnanu of manybof Uulr aDTaalgn ^'' and ha mutiou
pajtloularlj'SlTWUUwn Pickering, "a|«nUaDuui we]llwnk,of a
naiTDW taUle, but muoh Atsamad fbr lili iDamijig, hIa fauidioaa
wij of llTins. ud tits mauagBQivit of ■oma ambaariH Iptd FraOH
and QwaiaDy ;" HaDxy. Eari of Arond^ a Tain. Ibima] man ;
and Bobvt Dndlay. ailarwama Iba mitotloBB Garl it Ij^oaatat

»Google

A.D. laeo— 1568.] ELIZA

and natioDftl manifeato against the Clinrch of
Jtome. Without much debate the parliuuent
adopted the declaration that the anthoritj of the
Bomam church waa aa QBurpatioD orer the liber-
tiefl and couBciences of ChriBtian oien, an odioua
tyranny not to be home. This nuuufesto wae
aeoomptoiied by a confesaioD of faith, in which
they renounced all the teneta and do);j;[nas of the
church that had been attained by the Beformers
of Qermany, SwitEerUnd, and ^gtand, and dis-
ovued for ever the whole authority of the pope,
A few year* before, the Beformera would hnve
been contented — or, at leaat so they affirmed —
with liberty to follow the dictatee of their own
conidence, and to wonihip God lu the way they
tbongbt best; but now that they were the power-
ful party, they showed a most fixed resolution
not to allow to othera the eweet and precious
liberty they had claimed for themaelvee. They
meoaeed with eecutar punishments those who
continued to warship according to the manner of
tbrir fathers, and proceeded to enact the most
oppreenve lawa against the Catholics. Whoso-
erer officiated in, oi' was present at a mass, whs,
in the first instance, to be punished with confis-
cation of goods and imprisonment at the discre-
tion of the magistrate; for the second offence he
was to be banished ; and for the third to suffer
death. The Presbyterian form of discipline was
adopted, and bishops and other dignitaries were
declared to be limbs of Papal superstition and
tyranny. "When they had proHMeded thus far,
they consulted with their absent queen, and sent
oTer Sir James Sandilands, formerly prior of the
KnightB Hospitallers, to France, to demand the
ratification of their acts. Mary not only refused
her assent to the statutes passed against the reli-
gion in which she had been brooght np, but de-
nied the validity of the parliament which bad
been summoned without her consent, and she
and her husband would not even ratify the trea-
ties of Edinburgh. It is said that Uary's uncles,
the Prince* of Lorrune, aptjily expressed their
resentment, and teeretly made preparations for
invading Scotland with a French fleet and army,
and in order to renew the civil war there, imme-
diately called together alt those who, like the
Lord Seaton, still adhered to the ancient reli^on;
bat if tbeee intentions were really entertained,
they were all frustrated by the sudden death of
Francis II., Mary's weak and imbecile husband,
who expired on the Sth of December, 1660, after
a reign of seventeen months. His brother and
sacceasor, Charles IX., was in his eleventh year,
snd with small promise of being healthier or
more inteUectual than Francis. By this acci-
dent, however, the chief power of tha govern-
ment fell out of the hands of Mary's nnclee into
thoao of her mother-in-law, the infamous Cathe-

BETH. 91

rine de' Media, who had no affection for the
beautiful yonng widow. Catherine, iu an nn-
happy hour for France, was appointed regent.
Mary was now treated both dtareapectfully and
harahly, npon which she retired wholly from the
court, and took up her re^dence at Bheims.
The destinies of these two relations were so cast,
that whatever was prejudicial to Mary was bene-
ficial to Elizabeth. By the death of Francis, the
English queen was freed from the perils attend-
ing the close union of Scotland and Fiance,' and
from pretenuons which might have been dan-
gerous if urged at the moment with the whole
power of the French monarchy. On the death
of ber husband, Mary had desisted from bearing
the arms and title of Queen of England; and now
Tbrogmorton,' a diplomatist of the school of
Cecil and Sadler, who was residing in France, as
ambassador, received insti-nctions to work upon
the mind of the young widow, and induce her to
ratify the treaties of Edinburgh. This Mary
refused to do, principally on the ground that, by
one of the clauses of the Fi^ncb treaty, her un-
disputed right of being at least next in succesuon
to Elizabeth, would, ss she had been taught to
consider, be committed or impaired. Soon after,
when Mary was making up her mind to return
to her native country, she requested Elizabeth to
grant her a safe-conduct ta cross the seas into
Scotland, and allow ber to pass through England
if absolutely necessary. This application was
made through D'Oisel, who bad returned from
France aa Mary's ambassador; and it should ap-
pear that Elizabeth, in refusing the permission,
gave way to anger and indecorous expressions of
resentment in public'

There was one party in Scotland that would
gladly have left tiarj where she was; and there
were some men who would aa gladly have seen
her—even at this moment when she was untried,
and when little was known of her, except her
attachment to the old reli^n — a state prisoner
in the hands of Queen Elizabeth; bnt the mass
of the nation retained a certain loyalty and ro-
mantic affection for the orphan deaeendant of
their kings; and it was found indispensable to
recal her in an honourable manner. The person

■» pntV puialj iMad b; CaH In m Ml
Ihs BcntUT HTI-" B; tU* cor dmlll, our A<«'> <■ &Mt«'
Hh&ll Bud » to U of Uiali dupudllDii." liam /Hsiclj maut
tha SDtmlt* of titj who btA » itaaaj bsen in ami, ud vho
wan alnnt nadr Is t«ka np usu igaln, arm bafim Dib; hHI
triad th^TOOiigqiuHi. CsgUoddilDttuiuulattaT, "I tUnk
pUlnl; ths iODgsr lim Snottiih qnacm'i affliln ihMl tung In u
DDOBniiiit}, the longar will It ba on aha ihalL hnia nuh ■ malsb
la BURlaga H dull cAul n-'—Hardritcti Stett Pafin. All
thk wM iwt of ■ •jMam whkh wm ntrsr tatarnpted bj tha
Encliab Doiirt (111 Mai; wu nlnad ud dlafnead.

»Google

92

HISTORY OF ENQIAND.

[Civil aitd Mhjtabt.

chocen to Degotiate thia retam, Emd to conduct
Mary to her native country, was her half-brother,
Janies Stuart, prior of St. Andrews, who had
beea a principal agent in all the changes and re-
volutions which bad taken place during the last
three eventful years. The Catholics of Scotland,
alarmed at the choice of this agent, and tearing
the effect he might produce on hia half-sister, re-
solved to send an ambassador of their own at the
sometime; and they selected for this office Lesley,
Bishop of Ross, an historian of credit and ability,
whose fidelity to Mary during her afflictions
commands honour from all honourable and feel-
ing hearts. Three of her French relatives, the
Duke of Aumerle, the grand prior, and the Mar-
quis of Elb<euf, together with the Marquis Dam-
ville and other French noblemen, agreed, how-
ever, to accompany her into Scotland, and to see
her safely lodged in her capital. In the month
of August Mary embarked at Calais with a heavy
heart. As she bad been brought up in France
from her infancy, she was naturally more French
than Scoteh, and it needed no great power of ex-
aggeration to view Scotland as a very turbulent
and very onattractive country; while, if Sfaiy

IftBT Quid or aeon.— Aftw P1UI14,

was at all conversant with its history, she must
liave known that the people had murdpred all
the kings of her most unhappy race, or sent them
to the grave broken-hearted. She had been
queen, though but for a short time, in the rich
and fertile country she was leaving : until very
recently she had been gay, and happy, and hon-
oured, among a cheerful people; but wliat might
await herinapoorandbarKuIandf There was
nearly everything to sadden and darken the pro-

spect, and nothing to enliven it but a yonthfol
hope, not likely to be strong in such a moment :
there was also the dread of being captured by
Elizabeth, who had refused her a safe-conduct;
nor, though the mattor is debated, is it quito dear
that an English fleet in the Channel had not
orders to intercept her. As her own little fleet
glided from the port, she kept her eyes &ied on
the coast of France, often repeating, "Farewell,
France — farewell, dear France — I shall never see
thee more!* She arrived safely at Leith on the
IQtb of August, and her spirits revived on seeing
the honest enthusissm of the common people,
who crowded the beach to salute the only relic
of their kings, who had been torn from them in
her childhood, and whom they bad scarcely hoped
ever to see again. But the lords had taken small
pains to do honour to her reception, or to "cover
over the nakedness and poverty of the land.''
Tears came into the young queen's eyes aa she
saw the wretehed poniee, with bare wooden sad-
dles or dirty and ragged trappings, wbicli had
been provided to carry her and her ladies from
the water-side to Holyrood, then a small and dis-
mal place, consisting only of what is now the
north wing. But again her spirits revived at the
enthusiastic plaudits of the people, who seem to
have been enraptured at her youth and beauty
and graceful and condescending demeanour. For
a time even religious intolerance was soothed
into tranquillity by the ingratiating manners and
conduct of the young queen, who intrusted the
chief management of a&irs to her half-brother,
James Stuart, and to Maitland of Letbington,
both men standing well with the people and thu
preachers. It should appear that when James
Stuart went over to France he had promised to
Mary the free exercise, within her own house,
of her own religion, notwithstanding the warning
of John Knox and the rest, that to import one
mass into the kingdom of Scotland would be more
fatal than to bring over a foreign army of 10,001)
men. The Protestante, however, were resolved
to stop the queen's msasea at starting. On the
Sunday after her landing, when preparations
were made in the chapel at Holyrood, they said
to one another, "ShaU that idol, the mass, again
have placel It shall not!" And the jotxofi
Master of Lindsay called out in the coort-yard
of the palace, that the idolatrous priest should
die the death according to God's law. Mary's
half-brother had great difficulty in appeasing this
tumult, and saving the Catholic priest from being
murdered at the foot of the altai-. But it did
not suit James gtusrt to set himself forward as
the defender of idoIati7; and while he stood with
his drawn sword by the door of the chapel, he
ingeniously pretended that it was only to prevent
any Scot from entering to witnees the abominable

»Google

«.D. 1560—1366.] ELIZA

ceremonj within.' It was immediatelj after tluB
riot, that John Kdoz, in the first of his mftny
ralebnted interviewB, undertook tQ convert the
qneen. Of (he perfect honesty of his zeal, of hia
tboTongh conviction that the csnae of the king-
dom uxi of Christ was in danger so long as there
■ma a Papist on the throne, there can be no
doabt; jet it has been often objected that Knoz
was aingalarlj nnfiC to be an apoetle in high
places, EUid that the coune he pursued from the
very beginning, when, aa it has been remarked,
Maiy had probably never heard a single word of
argumeot against the faith she profeBsed, was
cahmlated only to alienate a high-spirited sove-
reign. It ia said that he knocked at her heart
until Bbe shed tean;* but theae were tears of
oflended pride — teara forced from her by long-
cherished feelings. The sagaciooa Bandolph,
who, like hia emplc^ora, was an utter Htraager to
thie religious enthusiaam, plainly intimated to
Cecil tiiat Knox wai pursuing a wrong courBe.
"I eommend,' says he, "better the success of bis
doctrine and preachings than the manner of
them, tbongh I acknowledge his doctrine to be
sound. His daily prayer for her is, that God
will turn her heart, now obstinate against Ood
and his truth ; and if his holy will be otherwise,
that he will strengthen the hearts and hands of
the chosen, and the elect, stoutly to withstand
the rage of tyrants.' This was, in other words,
to pray that the Protestants might rise in general
rebellion against their young queen, and depose
her, unless she forthwith abjured her religion.
As for rage and tyranny, they were certainly not
at this time on the side of the throne: the C^thO'
lica, as a political party, were crashed, and Mary
had not the daring zeal to attempt their re-eleva-
tion at the expense of a civil war.

When Utii7 removed from Edinburgh to Stir-
ling she found the same intolerance of her now
persecuted cbnrch: the people, inflamed by their
preachers, rose tDmoltuously, and threatened
with death all such as should partake in the
idolatry of the mass. Here the queen wept again;
but seeing no remedy, she followed the advice of
ber half-brother, and by issuing proclamations
<d banishment agiunst the monks and friars, and
by other steps in favour of the Protestants, she
obtained for a time a tacit permission to worahip

,™."writ-n«.doiph

toC«U,"0«Tol«of™.
ra llA In n thu GW tnmi-

TiHHteTiuUUwqnHi: bg knooiM n buUlf npan hs baut
Uut Ik nuda bar wstp. nweU joa knixr tboe he of tHat hi
UatwiUdoUul u wall fn iii(«r H for (rial, llun^ in IbU
<li4LadjHi..wUldl-ci»w]tb>m<. ShaohugadhlBiwlUi

God in her own way — l»U tUvayi in prtvaie. But
almost as much as their hatred or dread of the
mass, was that of the Scots against the amuse-
ments of Mary, and especiaUy that of dancing,
which she imported from the Freuch court, and
endeavoured to naturalize in Scotland. Nothing
could be more unsuitable to the temper of such
a people, especially amidst the stem realities of
a religious revolution ; and the Beformers were
scandalized at the levity of these festivals, which
were kept up in Holyrood till the unwonted hour
of midnight. John Knox denounced this dancing
from the pulpit, under the contemptuous epithets
of "fiddling and flinging," and not only con-
demned the practice as a covert for worse indul-
gences, but as an insult to the afflicted conditjou
of the realm.' It was in vain Maiy tried to wiu
the favour of the zealous Reformer. She pro-
mised him ready access to her whenever be should
desire it; and entreated him, if he found her
conduct blameahle, to reprehend her in private,
rather than vilify her in the kirk before the
whole people. But Knox, whose notion of the
rights of his clerical office was of the meet tower-
ing kind, and who, upon other motives besides
those connected with religion, had declared a
female reign to be an atxHuiuation,* was not
willing to gratify the queen in any of her de-
mands. He told her that it was her duty to go
to the kirk to hear him — not his duty to wait
upon her. There was certainly a proud Calvin-
istic republicanism interwoven with this wonder-
ful man's religious creed. Elizabeth afterwards
blamed Maiy that she bad not sufficiently con-
formed to the advice of the FrotestAut preachers;
but if Elizabeth herself had had to do with such
a preacher as John Knox, she would, having the
power, have sent him to the Marsbalsea in one
week, and to the pillory, or a worse place, in the
next. Notwithstanding their avowed contempt
of worldly riches and honours, we are justified in
believing that the poverty to which the Presby-
terian clergy were condemned by a grasping and
selfish aristocracy bad much to do with their
over-severity. It would lead them to exclaim
against pleasures from which they were excluded
by an iron barrier; and then, except in the pul-
pit, where, correctly and incorrectly, they could
enlist the gospel in their service, they were little
or nothing, being condenuied, through want of
worldly means, to a stinted and obscure way of
life. In the same maimer, the meadioant orders
of monks — the preaching frian, the Dominicans,
and others — were fierce and intolerant against
all worldly pomp and pleasure; but when these
monastic orders attained ease and competence,
and some of them wealth, they became mild and

,/•¥•«.

< 9/ t^ Tnatftt againit (A

»Google

9*

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cint. AUD MlLtTAKT.

fjrbemiQg in theae respects. Bnt the Scottiali
lords, by &bHorbiiig Beorly the 'whole of the pro-
pert; of the tkucient church, left not enough to
remoTe the asceticism ot the new one. Tbeee
nobles affected surprise, ttnd espreesed n very
■incere diipleaaure, when the Pre8byI«TiaQ minis-
ters put in their claim for a share of the monsstic
and other church property, which, in ways both
direct and indirect, had fallen almost entirely
into the hands of the aristocracy, in most caseB
eren without any intervention of the court, which
was thus depriTed of that means of strengthen-
ing its party. It was with extreme reluctaiK»
that the Scottish ■tateamen were induced to listen
to a proposal that the church revenue shonld be
divided into three shares, to be applied— first, to
the decent support of the new clergyj secondly,
to the encouragement of learning, hj the endow-
ing of schools and coll^ee; and, thirdly, to the
support of the poor. This plan was proposed by
the Reformed dergy, as a proper m^od for the
rebuilding of the temple: on which the astute
Maitland of Lethington asked whether the nobles
of Scotland were now to turn hod-bearers in this
building of the kirkl John Knox boldly replied
that they might find a woree employment, and
that those who would not aid in building the
house of God should look to the security of the
foundatJouB of their own houses. But the elo-
quence of the vigorous Reformer was leas preva-
Wt with the iron-clad and iron-handed barons
than with the delicate queen of nineteen snmmere;
he oould droM no tears from their eyes; and being
resolved to keep what they had gotten, they
voted his plan of partition to be "a devout ima-
gination " — a vrell-meant, but visionary system,
which could not possibly be carried into execu-
tion. And though, at a later period, the Scottish
parliament were obliged to make some provision
for the Reformed clei^, the appointments were
miserably small A hundred marks Scotch per
annum, not quite six pounds sterling — an excel-
lent sum to keep men down to the starving point
— was the usual revenue of a parish priest; some
few, indeed, got thrice that amount; but the whole
sum allowed for the maintenance of the national
church, oousisting of about lOUU parishes, fell
short of £4000 sterling: and even these paltty
endowments vere irrqpilarly paid, and very
much begrudged, by the hungry nobles, who were
fattening on the lands with which the piety of
their ancestors and of the old kings had enriched
to excess the Roman church. It was the very
Lords of the Congrt^tion, who bad pretended to
go band-in-hand with Knox and his disoi{des
(without whom they would have been crashed),
that cut down the allowances to this niaerable
scale. The prior of SL Andrews, the queen's
half-biother, and the sworn friend of John Enoi,

thought the clergy well paid with these hod-
bearer^ stipends; for the levying and paying of
which Wiriiart ot Ktlarrow, another moat se^
ous Reformer, was appoint«d comptroller. Knox,
though not greedy of worldly pelf, was sufficiently
loud in his lamentations. " Who would have
thought," cried he, "that when Joseph ruled in
Egypt, his brethren would have come down
thither for com, and returned with their sacks
empty 1" But his complaints had no mors effect
than the rumblingof distant thunder; andthongh
the Lords of the Congregation were pretty ctm-
stant in their atlAndance at the kirk, they alwaya
considered that the preachers departed from the
true doctrine when Uiey spoke of worldly gooda.
And in this manner the l4«Bbyterian clerg; cmi-
tinued to be kept in a state of body and mind
most favourable to spiritual intemperance, lliey
had already adopted one of the worst prsctieea
of the Roman church — that of persecuting for
matters of belief; and they soon took up anotha-
— that of making search and inquest into llie
private and domestic concerns of men ; and it
may be doubted whether the confessional chair
of the Popish priest was a more mischievoos
or distressing engine than the one which they
adopted. Omittiug many tedious or revolting
detaiis, we will merely mention one significsat
fact. During the queen's absence from Holyrood
some of the populace of Edinburgh broke into
her chapel, defiled the altar, and committed all
kinds of indecent outrages. Mary was naturally
indignant at this proceeding, and two — onljf two
—of the rioters were indicted. Upon this, John
Knox wrot« circular letters to the Uthful — to
men having power and good broadswords—cbaig-
ing them to come up to Bdinbuigh and protect
their persecuted brethren.

While Elizabeth watched with increasing plea-
sure the turbulence of Uary's subjects, ehe
checked her own with a firm hand, her govern-
ment being to the full as despotic as that of her
father, but infinitely more wise, keeping gene-
rally, though not always, in view high national
objects. By her frugality she was soon eoaUed
to pay off the great debts of the crown, and to
regulate the coinage, which had been debased by
her predecessors. She made large purchaaea of
arms on the Continent; she introduced, or greatly
improved, the arts of making gunpowder and
casting cannon; and, what was of foremost impor-
tance, ehe directed her energies to the increase of
the naval force, so that she was soon jnsUy en-
titled to the appellations of Restorer of Naval
Glory, Queen of the Northern Seas,'

Bnt the thread of Eli^beth's career was alw^v
of a mingled yam— the little, the mean, and th*
henf bnins mixed with what was great and noble.

,v Google

A-D. 1560-1566.]

and DAtioti&l, and the faenelf, ia the worda of her
OTTD miniBter, Robert CeeU, being more thAS &
man, and, in truth, Bometimea ieu than ft wonuu,'
She not only dreaded the claima to tiie mcoeMion
of Mary Queen of Scota, bnt she was aUo moet
}e*louB of the weaker rights of the line of Sof'
folk, and ahe peraecnted the Lady Catherine
Ore]', the heireaa of thia house, with an uttrelent-
Utg apirit.

EJUiabeth was made to feei, in
A.D. 16C2. jj^^y .^yg^ j,^ ^^ Catholic

priaoea of Europe regarded her oud her jmxxed-
ii^ with an evil eye, and to nuptet that conatant
machiuatiooa wers on foot in France to expel her
from the throne, and to Beat Uary Queen of Soota
in her place. Shey therefore, resolved to ally her-
■dt with theProtestont powers on the Continent,
and to avail hecwU to the ntmoat of the religioua
uimositiea of men both at home and abroad.
Hie persecuUona practiaed by Philip and the
French court made it easy for her to put heraelf
in a position of great might and reverence, ae
the head and protector of the Protestant religion.
Her coarse was shaped out by the instinct of
self'preaerration, and net by any religions zeal ;
sod in ponuing it she was inevitably induced to
enoontage revolted aubjeda in tlieir wan with
their govemnients — thos beginning in her own
practice the system which she afterward accnsed
her enemiee of carrying on against heiaelf.

Fiance, under the regency of Catherine de'
Medidl, soon became the Bocne of confusion and
anarchy. The Protestants of the south took up
arms for the liberty of ctmscience ; and in IfiSl
the goTemment coneented to a hollow treaty, by
which they were to be allowed the free eierciae
of their religion. But the Duke of Gluiae, the
leader of the Catholic party, goon infringed this
treaty, and having poasenion of the person of
the young king, Charke IX., he dictated to the
regent, who, however, wanted no atimuloa. She
was a real bigot, while Guise's religious zeal was
more than half feigned and politic. The Pro-
testants, or Huguenots, as they were called in
France, flew once more to arms, under the com-
mand of the Prince of Condi, the Admiral Col-
tigny, Andelot, and others, and fourteen armies
were preaeutly in motion in different parts of the
kingdom. The sucoesa was various — the fury of
both parties pretty equal. The parliament of
Paris, which was very orthodox, published an
edict, authorizing the Catholics everywhere to
masMcre the Protestants ; and the Protestants
replied by making sharper the edges of their
own Bworda. Woraeu and children flocked to the
ranks on both sides, and partook in the c&rnage.
The HognenotB, notwithstanding their great iufe-

ELZZABETH.

95

riority in numbers, pressed the Catholics so hard,
that the Duke of Quise waa bua to solicit aid
from Philip IL ; and that sovereign, for various
raoaona, beddea his deaire to check the apreod
of hM«i7 into his dominions in Flanden, gladly
entered into an alliance, and sent ais thousand
men and some money into Fnnce. Upon this,
the Prince of Cond£, the chief leader of the
Huguenots, solicited the assistance and proteo-
tioa of Elizabeth; and be offered to her, as an
immediate advantage, poasessiou of the important
maritime town of Havre-de-Groce. After aome
short negotiations, during which Sir Henry Sid-
ney, the able and accomplished father of the
more famous Sir Philip Sidney, was seut into
France, ostensibly to mediate between the Catho-
lics and ProtestantH, Elizabeth concluded a com-
pact with the Prince of Cond6, furnished him
with erane money, and then sent over three
thousand men, under the command of Sir Edward
Poynings, to take possessirai of Havre. No de-
claratioQ of hostilities waa made to the F^«nch
oourt, and Elizabeth asserted to the foreign am-
bassadors that her only object was to serve ha
majesty of Franoe, and to free him from the
hands of the Quiaea, who, aeoording to her ver-
sion, held the youth an unwilling prisoner. Soon
after his arrival, Poynings was obliged to throw
some reinforcements into Bousd, wiiich was be-
sieged by the Cbtholica under the command of
the King of Navarre and the Duke of Uont-
morency. This detachment was cut to pieces
to a man ; for the besi^ers carried the place
by assault, and put the garrison to the award.
But the handful of Englishmen behaved bravely,
and, before they met Qieir fate the Catholic
King of Navarre was mortally wounded.* As
the Huguenots were still strong in Normandy,
Elizabeth resolved to reinforce her very small
army; and she sent over Ambrose Dudley, Earl
of Warwick, the elder brother of her favourite,
with a fresh force of tbree thousand men.' War-
wick took the command of Havre, aud began to
fortify that place, which was threatened with
a siege by the Duke of Quise, the captor of
Calais, the expeller of the English, whose party
was strengtbeoed by the odium excited against
Cond£, far calliDg the old enemies of his conntiy
back to it, and giving them aomethiug like a firm
footing in it Havre, indeed, might have been
made a second English Calais.

By means of &iglish money, a considerable
body 1^ Proteatont soldiers were engaged in Ger-
many ; and Uiis fot«e and others under the com-

»Google

96

mSTORT OF ENGLAND.

[Cir

D UlLITART.

). 1663.

nuud of AadeLot Mid tlie Adniinl CoUigDy, ob-
liged Quiae to moTe from the Seine and the neigh-
bonrbood of Havre towards the Loire, where the
Hngaenota ware verj powerfnl, poseessing the
dt; of Orleaiu. After a renuu-iuble campaign,
daring which the Hognenota, under tbe sdmiraJ
and Cond£, threatened tbe cit; of Paris, a fierce
battle was fonght at Dreuz, and the Protoataute
were defeated. Th»«&ir, bowerer, was not Terj
deciuve; and, to support Colligny, Elizabeth aent
over some more moite;, and ofiered to give her
bond for a farther sum if he coald find mer-
chants disposed to lend on sncb a secoritj.'

At this moment the queen's ex-
chequer was emptj, and she was
obliged to snminiHi a parliament — a bodj for the
wisdom or authority of which she oever testified
much respect. Almost as eoon as this parliament
met, the odious subject of tbe auocessioD and ma-
trimony wss renewed. Elizabeth had just under-
gone that dangerous disease the sm&U-poi, and,
as her life had been despaired of, people hod been
made more than ever sensible of the perils likely
to arise from a disputed sncceasion. The com-
mons, therefore, voted an address t4i her majesty,
in which, after mentioning the civil wars of for-
mer times, tbey entreated her to choose a hus-
band by God's grace, engitgiug on their part to
serve, honour, and obey the husband of her
choice: or if, indeed, her high mind was for ever
set against matrimony, tbey entreated that she
would permit her lawful successor to be named
and acknowledged by act of parliament. Being
thus placed between the sharp home of a dilem-
ma, and being fully resolved on do account to
acknowledge the rights either of Mary Queen of
Scots, or of the I^dy Catherine Grey, the repre-
sentative of the Suffolk line, whose children she
had just bastardized, she pretended that her reso-
lution of living and dying a virgin wss shakeu ;
and, without making anything like a positive
decUratioD, she gave them to understand that
she might be induced, for the sake of her people,
to think of marriage. Nearly at this moment
another suitor appeared in the field. The Duke
of WQrtemberg, a German Protestant prince,
offered his service to the queen "in case she
were minded to marry."

The parliament wss obliged to be satiaGed with
the queen's evasive answer, and to proceed to
other business. A most remarkable law they
passed was the act of "sssurance of the queen's
royal power over all states and subjects within
her dominions." This was, in effect, an extension
of the former acts of supremaiy. For asserting
twice in writing, word, or deed, the authority of
the pope, the offender was subjected to the pen-
alties of treason : all penons in holy orders were

bound to take the oath of supremai^, as wrae
also all who were advanced to any degree, either
in the nniversities or in the inns of coort, all
schoolmasteia, officers in coort, and membera of
parliament; and a second refusal of the oath was
made treason. JBy a strange restriction, consid-
ering that some of the noblest families were Ca-
tholics, tlie statute did not extend to any num of
the rank of a baron, it being assumed, as a con-
venient fiction, that no doubt could be ent^-
tuned as to the fidelity of persons of such rank.
All Elizabeth's parliaments were zealously Pro-
testant: in this the House of Commons were
sincere : hut in the lords there must have beo)
considerable dissimulation, as the known Ca-
tholics seldom mode any oppbsition. In the
present session, however. Lord Hontacnte showed
some spirit. He opposed the bill of asranmce,
and contended, in favour of the English Catho-
lics, that Uiey were loyal and dutiful subjects,
neither disputing, nor preaching, nor caoung
tumults among the people. But Elizabeth could
never repose confidence in a sect which conld not
but believe iu her illegitimacy; and the B}Hrit
of disloyalty which no doubt existed in many
breasts, notwithstanding the assertion of Mont-
acute, was naturally increased and strengthened
by these very pensi acts directed against them.
It is quite cert^n that Elizabeth never thon^t
of trying the grand and humane experiment; bat
it would indeed not "be safe to assert that a more
conciliating policy would have altogether dis-
armed their hoetiUty." * An increase of violence
produced a seeming conformity ; but the Catho-
lics had recourse to what has been justly called
the usual artifice of an oppressed people, and met
force by fraud. This was the most dangerous of
all slates ; and Eli^beth and Cecil fairly acknow-
ledged that their system of coercion woe a failnie,
when they compltuned that they conld not take
the Catholics for good Protestants and Ic^ sub-
jects, though they constantly attended the An-
glican choi'ch, and prayed for tlie queen in the
words of the Litui^. If no forcu had been
adopted — if the adherents to the old church had
been allowed the free exercise of their religion —
the government at least might have known who
were Catholics and who were not; but now it
was impossible to distinguish between the un-
willing converts to force and the willing converts
to persuasion, and use, and time. And, as men
always hate intensely those who degrade them
in their own eyes, or force them to commit acts
of subservience and baseness, Elizabeth became
more and more an object of detestation to this
class. It was during this same sesuon that the
law against false prophets wss passed, and it was
accompanied by a statnte against conjuration.

»Google

A.n. 1560—1566.] EUZA

encbADtments, tad witehimft. It should ftppeu
'as if the people of England had not jet adviuieed
to ft concUttoD in which thej could do without a
certain pabulum of credulity, and that. it wag
peLLUBMj that the superstition which had loet
its old food — Buch aa saints and Mndonnaa and
miraclea — should find some Dew nonriehment.
In Um conuttiea where the conunoa people are
fed with legends and miracles, there ia little or
DO belief in witches and ghosts; and, for a long
time after the Beformation, the people in moat
countries seem to have believed in witches and
ghosts becanse they were no longer alloned
believe is saints and miradw The chronicles
remark that the preceding jeu' had been verj'
awfol on account of the great number of m<
strona bnths, and pi-obafalj tbis was believed
be the effect of witchcraft and conjuration. Bnt
all kinds of insane notions were rei; prevalent-
The penal statutes now passed only increased
the number of mad prophets, conjurors, and
called witches. Having voted the queen a supply
of a mibaidj', and two-fifteentbs, the parliament
was prorogued. Still further to enable the queen
to prosecute her continental scheme, which was
popular with Protestant chnrchmen, and with
the majority of the nation, as being in favour of
men who were co-reltgioniats, or nearly
convocation of the clergy voted her a subsidy of
six shillingB in the pound, payable in three years.
Apparently some of this money was immediately
eenb to the Huguenota, and some to the Earl of
Warwick, who, however, received strict orders to
keep bis troops within the walls of Havre, and
not to join theAdmiralColligny in the field, who,
without his assistance, had reduced most of the
places in Normandy which held for the Guises.
The admiral, however, eomplaiuad to Elizabeth
of the strange neutrality of her little army, and
his EMmplaints became louder when he saw that
the Duke of Quise was preparing to crush the
Protestants on the I^ire, and that he was laying
siege to Orleans with every proapect of taking
that city. But soon after Onise was ssaaasinated
by Poltrot, a young gentleman of the Huguenot
por^, and the death of this brave leader and
accomplished soldier, which happened on the
S4th of February, 1663, induoed the French Ca-
tholics to ofier conditions of peace and recon-
ciliation. The admiral, who knew her well,
maintained that there was no trusting the Queen-
r^nt Catherine de' Medici ; but he was over-
ruled by his anociates, and, iu the end, another
lioUow pacification was concluded between the
Preudi ProtMtants and the French Catholics.
la this hasty and unwise treaty the Huguenots
took little or do care of the interests of the Eng-
lish queen, merely stipulating that if she would
^ve up Havre, her charges and the money she
Vol, XL

BETH. 97

had advanced should be repaid by the fVeneh
court, and that Calus, at the eipfration of the
term before fixed, should be restored to her. In
this instance Elizabeth's anger got the better of
her discretion : she sent Warwick orders to de-
fend Havre to the htat against the whole French
aionarchy j for Protestants and Catholics were
now alike anxious to see the English out of
France. Iu taking possession of this place the
English had expelled' nearly all the fVMkch inha>-
bitants, so that they had little to fear in thai
direction. Warwick had about SOOO men with
him, and during the siege Sir Hugh Paulet con-
ducted to him a reinforcement of 800, The Con-
stable Montmorency, so receutly in alliance with
the English, took the command of the besieging
army, in which also served the Protestant Prince
of Cond^ who, more than any one, had led Eliza-
beth into the late treaty with the Huguenots.
The brave Admiral CoUigoy, who still doubted
the good faith of the queen-regent, kept aloof. So
important was the enterprisp in the eyes of the
government that Catherine de* Medici took her
SOD, the young king, with nearly the whole court,
to the besieging camp, and called upon all loyal
EVenchmen to repair to the siege'. In the month
of May, notwithstanding some gallant sorties
made by the English, the French established
themselves in favourable positions round the
town, and began to battor in sundry places.
During the whole of the month of June they
tried iu vain to force an entrance, and they were
several times beaten out of their trenches. On
the 14th of July the besiegers made an assault
with 3000 men, and were repulsed with the loss
of four hundred. On the S7th of the same
month the French desperately made fresh ap-
proaches, and "were made by the English gun-
ners to taste the bitter fruit that the cannon and
cnlverins yielded." But the besieging force was
numerous, and the walls were so effectually
breached, that on the following day, the 2Sth of
July, 1563, a capitulation was signed, the French
agreeing to permit the garrison to depart with
their arms, baggage, and whatever goods be-
longed to tlie Queen of England or to any of her
subjects, and to allow the English six whole days
to embark themselves and their property. It was
a sad embarkation, the sick and feeble having to
carry those who were in a still worse st&te, and
I men in health being exposed to the closest
itact with the plague patients, for a. pestilence
which had broken out among the garrison was
other than tlie deadly plague. And these
plague patients brought the frightful disorder
with tliem into England, where it committed
great ravages, spreading into various parts of
the kingdom, and raging so fiercely in Loudon
that, in the course of the year, it carried off

xGooi^le

98

HISTORY OF ENGLANU.

[Ci^

. AHO HlUTABT.

20,000 pereoQS.' The Cittholic portj aaw in these
things a visible muiifestatioa of the wrath of
Heaven at the cb&ngea which had taken place In
religion.

This first of Elizabeth's continental wars was
anSiclently discouraging, and she readily cod-
sent«d to give up the cause of the Protestants in
FVance, and to conclude a fresh peace with the
qneen-regent, who was most earnest in detaching
her from the Huguenots. A peace signed at
Troyes, on the 11th of April, 1564, was shortlj
after proclaimed, with soand of trumpet, before
the queen's majesty in hercaatlaof Windsor, the
French amhasBadora being present. By this new
treaty Eliznbeth delivered up the hostf^[«B which
the French had gi veu for the restitution of Calais ;
but she received 220,000 crowns for their libersr
tion. Tiie questions of the restitution of Catws
and other matters were left in the state they
were in before the late hostilities, each party re-
taining its claims and pretenaionB, which were to
be setlled by after negotiation.'

In this interval Scotland Jmd been the scene
of many turmoils and more intrigues. The gay,
the handaoTue, and accomplished queen gradually
gained ground in the affections of the people;
but she wns Huirounded by a remorseleFS set of
nobles — a class of men who had rarely lived in
peace, even under the government of the hardiest
and most skilful of their kings. In 1S62, the
Ihike of Chatelleniulfs son, tha Earl of Airan,
accused the Ear) of Bothwell and others of a plot
to murder tha Lonl James Stuart and Maitland,
in order to get poasession of the power which
they monopolized between them. It was soon
made to appear that Arran was mad ; and this
unfortunate young nobleman was secured in the
caatle of Fyiiiiburgh, Tu reward the services of
the Lord James, the queeo, who treated him as
her brother, conferred upon hira the earldom of
Mar and the land belonging to it — a measure
whiuh greatly incensed the powerful Earl of
Huntty, who had hitherto occupied, without
challenge, some of the estates included in the
earldom of Mar. While there was hot blood
upon this subject, Sir John Goi'don, one of the
Earl of Huntly'a sons, engaged in the public
streets of Edinburgh in an aHHy with Lord
Ogilvie, a friend of the Lord James. The queen
caused both these disturbeni of the peace of her
capital to be placed under arrest ; but Sir John
Gordon soon escaped out of prison, and fled to
hia father in the Highlands. The Lord James,
who appears to have been anxious to enter on
the estate of Mar under the cover of the royal
presence, chose this very moment for conducting
hia sister on a royal progress to the north. The
journey was fatiguing, and the queen evervwhere

met with a cold reception tima the Highland
clans, who were accustomed to consider the will
of the Earl of Huntly aa a thing far above the
royal authority. As she advanced, appreheowona
were even entertained for her personal safety;
and all the persons in her retinue, not excepting
the foreign ambassadors, did regular duty about
her like soldiers, keeping watch and ward against
surprise. On her arrival at Inverness the castle
was held against her by some of the Gordons.
An entrance was obtained by force of arms, and
the captain of the Uttle garrison was put to
death for a very unequivocal proof of didoyaltv.
As it was found that Lord Erskine posaesaed a
legal right to the earldom of Mar, Stuart gave
up that claim, and obtfuned the much greater
earldom of Moray in its etead. From this time
the former prior of St. Andrews will be desig-
nated by the title of the Earl of Moray — a name
which was soon made a, sound of terror in the
queen's ears. If the Earl of Huntly had be«ii
enraged before, he now became desperate; for be
had received a grant of the we^thy earldom of
Moray as far back as the year 1948, and liad
ever since enjoyed the estates belonging to it.
He summoned together bis raas&ls and allies,
determined to defend his title with the sword.
On the Beth of October, while Mary was still in
the north, a fierce battle was fought at Corrichie,
near Aberdeen, almost under her eyes, fier
brother, the Earl of Moray, who had hastily col-
lected some Soutliland men, and won over soma
of the Highland class, gained acomplete victor^'-
The Earl of Huntly, in fleeing from the field, was
thrown from his horse into a morass, and thrn
smothered: hia son. Sir John Oordon, was taken
prisoner. The body of the old earl was disco-
vered, and carried before parliament, by vhicb
sentence of attainder and forfeiture wm pro-
nounced upon it ; his son was condemned to the
block, and butchered by a clumsy executioner nt
Aberdeen. The whole of this great family wm
reduceil to beggary; but, five years after, Mary
allowed their attainder to be reversed. There ia
no very satisfactory evidence to establish the fart,
but it was generally said that, if the Earl of
Huntly had proved tha victor in the battle of
Corrichie, he would have seized the queen, and
forced her to marry one of his sous.' BeporU of
this kind, and the circumatanoe of there beiug
no heir to the crown, made the Scots as aniions
about the maniage of their queen as were the
English about the marriage of theirs. Nor wa'
there any greater want of suitors in ScotUnd

a, "Th* m itf tb> Etil of HidUT b"

lo put ths mown on Uu bod «( Uu d^'*
D blm-'—ltuud. MS.. liwW l»

,v Google

4.t>. 1560—1566.] EUZJ

thui in Englniid, Mary hud none of her rival's
sTsraioiu to sluuiug her Aathorit)'' «i th & hosbaiid,
but there wm an immeDse difficult; in the wa;
of % proper choice. Her own inclination would
havs led her to an alliance with some foreign
prince ; and her French relationa successively
proposed to her Don Carlos, then heir of the
Spkniah monarchy; the Duke of Anjou, one of
the brothers of her late hnshand; the Cardinal of
BourboD, who had only lately taken deacon's
orders ; the Duke of Ferrara, and some others.
But all these suitora were odious to the mass
of the Scottish nation, aa Catholics; and Eliza-
beth let it be understood that any idliance of that
kind, aa opening the way for her foreign enemies
U) ber dominions, would occasion on immediate
irar with England. Mary, though urged on by
the princes of the house of Guise, was not dis-
posed to provoke this danger, and she even con-
descended to consult with Elizabeth, as to a
choice which might be alike agreeable to both
countries. In the summer of 1563 a personal
interview at York between the two queens was
spoken of; but Elizabeth, from various motives,
the least of which was not her jealousy of her
rival's superiority in beauty, artfully pnt off the
meeting till the next year; and, in fact, she never
met Mary at alL In order to detach Don Carlos
from his punuit, she held out hopes of renewing
an old treaty, and of marrying him herself. In
her anxiety to conciliate, and to secure her suc-
ceaaion to the English throne in case of Eliza-
beth's dying without issue, Mary despatched Sir
James Melville to London, in order to ascertain,
if possible, what kind of a husband it was that
would give entire satisfaction to her grace. All
this condescension and franknexa — for the Scot-
tiab queen, to all appearance, honestly meant to
abide by Elizabeth's decision — was met with
fi-aud and the rooat artful duplicity. Elizabeth
proposed, as a fitting husband, her own favourite,
the Lord Robert Dudley, who, on the 29th of
September, 1S63, attained to his well-known title
of Earl of Leicester. Mary, who could not have
been ignorant of bo notorious a fact as the at-
tachment which Elizabeth had for this showy
nobleman, must have seen that he was only
named to lengthen and embarrass these delicate
negotiations. Nor was tlie Earl of Leicester, who
had little to recommend him beyond his hand-

BKTH. 99

some person, iu any way a suitable match for
that queen.

The man whom Elizabeth thus delighted to
honour enjoyed a very bad reputation among the

people, who, with a sad confidence, anticipated
his marriage with the queen.' It was believed
that, in the fulness of his hope that Elizabeth
would marry him, he had murdered a young and
beautiful wife, whose death was certainly atten-
ded with very mysterious circumstances. Ac-
cording to a striking account, which, whether
wholly correct or not, conveys perfectly the

Roarar Dvulei, BuI of Lticmua.— Alter Zusehsm.

popular opinion of the time—" as his own wife
stood in his light, as he supposed, he did but
send her to the house of his servant Foster, of
Cumnor, by Oiford, where shortly after sho had
the chance to fall from a pair of Ht&ira, and so to
break her neck ; but yet without hurting of her
hood that stood upon her heatl. But Sir Bichard
Varney, who, by commandment, remained with
her that day alone with one man, and liad sent
away per force all her servants from her to a
market two miles off— lie, I say, with his man,
can tell jou bow she died."' The stars had been
consulted by order of the great Cecil, who either
was not too wise a man to give credit to aa-

_.. -*U. Bor. f-™ th« .!«»«-■■ v™

i. ^ for hb own pniKb. wd IU* b-r-

Ukin lOr * ralonj In Cha nwKhs of WiOag. ud offniiif Uw

u hl> irnn CDuunodllT. md for grwUixB

-n ill ir ba b« not lUpinl « maaiea In

uid fill IHcb«d VmM7 h!m»1f [tki rr<rultill vUlain 0/ S™(C.

nnfHaUnDiidkt.Barltfljia^ln: Thn.

UiiicAtK0 ifoT7| disd ahniit Uia nuns tlnui in Landmi, criad ptM-

m duril^ th. h.<mrit.'. lift, uA U tb.

a. tm 1706, wfani Umt "m P"bU.I*J h)-

inhdldldwarhimloplaM. Thewueiil»orB*ld>rin BMIar.

ktnamiui u mj lord, pva out Uu whola bet ■ URla bxfcni bw

»Google

100

HISTORY OF ENOLAND.

[Civi

D MlUTAItT.

trology, or meant that hia mlstreas should be the
dupe of a. very prevailing superstition i and the
stars had told that the queen should be married
in thu'thir^-firat year of her age to a foreigner,
and bear one son, who would be a very great
prince, and one daughter, who would be a very
great princess. Butthequeen,who,weareconvln-
eed, thoaghb not of mnrrTing at ali, continued her
Btrange coquetry with Leicester, and Cecil's stars
were fairly put out by mor« popular prophecies,
which Leicester purposely encouraged, about the
bear and i-agged staff. The queen's ill-placed par-
tialtly to this bold bad man had excited alarm in
various quarters; and nearly three years before
sheodvancedhim to the rank of Earl of Leicester,
and gave him Kcnllworth Chatle, the report of
his having murdered bis wife had been made
known to her majesty. Nay, even Cecil, who
for a long time stood in dread that Elizabeth
would give her hand to Leicester, and who sub-
sequently Dontrived to renew the matrimonial
treaty with the Archduke Charles of Austria, in
order to prevent this fatal measure, made a me-
morandum, which waa probably shown to her
majesty, of the earl's being " infaraed by death
of hie wife," and being "far in debt," besides
other demerit^.' And yet Elizabeth did not
change h« eouAtct, and Leicester still felt such
high hopes t» taqnarrel with all itho favoured
the Austrian aatdi.

To return to Mary's ambassador, whose head,
clear as it was, seems to have been made giddy
by matches and counter-matches, and female jea-
lousies and intrigues, Melville proceeds to state,
that Elizabeth expressed a great desire to see
Queen Mary; and, aa this cuuld not hastily be
brought to pass, ahe appeared with great delight
to look upon her majesty's picture.

The Earl of Leicester conveyed Melville in his
barge from Hampton Court to London. On their
way he asked the wary Scot what his misti-ess
thought of him for a husband. "Whereunto,'
■ays Melville, "I answered very coldly, as I had
been by my queen commanded : and then he
b^an to purge himself of so proud a pretence as
to many so great a queen, declaring that ha did
not esteem himself worthy to wipe her shoes, and
that the invention of that proposition of marringe
proceeded from Mr. OecU, his secret enemy : for
if I, said he, should have appeared desirous of
that marriage, I should have offended both the
queens, and lost their favour." It is difficult to

ID lUFudraslit* effiBc

liT uklni pnbUolj whsUw It van In

TOfttwhOTH.

receive, as a sincere declaration, anything that
fell from the lips of that dezterons courtier,' the
Earl of Leicester — most difficult, where all were
playing parts, and all consummate actors, to
ascertain the real project in hand. It appears,
however, almost certain, that the presumptuous
favourite had not yet given up all hopes of mar-
rying Elisabeth ; and he wsa certainly the man
to prefer her, with the rich and great kingdom of
England, to her more youthful and far more beau-
tiful rival, with BO poor and turbulent a kingdom
as Scotland. It has been suggested by an elegant
writer,' who has shown great tact in tiwnng
some of the windings and intricacies of Eliza^
beth's character, that she encouraged this matri-
monial project pnrely as a romantic trial of
Leicester's attochmeut to herself, and pleased her
fancy with the idea of his rejecting for her a
younger and a fairer queen; and this notion not
only accords with the virgin queen's taste and
manners, but alaowith the project she evidently
entertained of perplexing Mary, and delaying
her marriage with any one else.

Melville returned to Scotland, and fonnd him-
self bound to assure his mistress that she could
never expect any real friendship from Eli^-
betb, whose professions were full of falsehood
and dissimulation. Mary's aubjects, being very
anxious for an heir to the throne, grew weary of
these long delays, and a stroi^[ party pointed ont
another match which had many things to recom-
mend it. Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, was first
cousin to Mary, and second cousin to Elizabeth,
being the eldest son of the Earl of Lenuoi, by
the Lady Margaret Douglas, daughter of the
Queen-dowager Margaret, sister of King Henry
VIII., by the Earl of Angus, the second husband
of that unruly and dissolute woman. In other
words, he was the son of Mary's aunt (by the
half-blood), the lady Mai^ret Douglas, and the
grandson of Eliiabeth'a aunt, Margaret Tudor.
The Earl of Lennox, it will be remembered, be-
udes stealing the French money, and attempting
to betray Dumbarton Castle, adhered steadily to
the English interests, for which he suffered ban-
ishment and the forfeiture of all his estate* in
Scotland. He retired to Enghmd, which had
been his home ever since — a comfortable home,
for Henry VIII., in recompense, not only gave
him the hand of his niece, the Lady Margaret
Douglas, but also some good estates in York-
shire, Henry Lord Daruley bad been bom and
brought up in England, and even hia mother,
the I^y Margaret, Counteaa of Lennox, was a
native Englishwoman, having been bom in IfilS,
jnat after the expulsion of her parents from
Scotland. With this lady it should appear that
theQueen of Scots had for some time maintaimd

,v Google

) IS60— 1S66.]

ELIZABETH.

101

an amicftble convspoudencej for, when she (lt<-
Bfatched Melville to the English oiirt, ahe i)
Btructed him to deid with mj Xady Margaret
«n<i with sundry friendB ahe had in England of
different opinions,' To the crown of Scotland
theLeDDoz family could lajno prospective claim;
but if, according to a notion not altogether aban-
doned in that age, a rosle were to be held as in
all circiliQstaucea coming before a female repre-
sentative, Henry Lord Damley, the son of this
Margaret, Conntesa of Leunoi, might, in case of
failure of the issue of Henry VIII., have advanced
a claim to the English throne, whii.-h was capable
of being placed in competition with the claim
of Queen Mary herself; and hence the desire of
streugtheuing the pretensions of the Queen of'
Scots by uniting the two claims. But this union
excited painful feelings in the breast of Elizabeth,
who liked not to think of any one succeeding her,
bat nrbo seems to have entertained a horror of the
notion of the succession falling to Mary, whom she
evidently hated more as a woman than as a sove-
reign. And yet even here she adopted no clenr
courae, but, on the contrary, aa if she foresaw
the fatal results, she played into the hands of the
Lennox family, and permitted things which ahe
might have prevented, and which led directly to
the onion. When the Earl of Leunoi applied
for leave to go to Scotland, to solicit the reversal
of his attainder, and to press his wife's claim aa
heir female to the earldom of Angus, she gave
her royal license, and apparently with pleasure.
After twenty years of exile, Lennox arriveil in
Scotland, where Queen Mary received him very
courteously, and procured from the Scottish par-
liament the reversal of the attainder with resti-
tution of his estates. His lady's claim on the
earldom of Angus was given u^j— for it was held
to be a male fief, and, what was worse, it was in
the tenacious grasp of the powerful Earl of Mor-
ton, the chancellor, who managed it in the name
of his nephew Archibald Douglas;* but the
queen's liberality softened the pang of this dis-
appointment. The attainder was scarcely re-
versed, when the exiled lord began to adopt
measures for placing his son Henry by Mary's
lide ou the throne.

A few weeks after Elizabeth had again put
forward Leicester, she permitted Heury Lord
Damley, "the tall lad," aa she termed him, to
go to Scotland. Damley was nn Englinh sub-

ject, and it would have been no extraordinary
stretch of prerogative in those days to have pre-
vented his journey, if Elizabeth had been so
minded. Daruley set sail for Scotland in the
beginning of the year lSf>5, and on the 16th of
February he waited upon Queen MaryatWemysa
Custle, in Fife, where he was moat courteously
received. Though so very tall, he was well pro-
portioned, and altogether a handsome young
man. He was in hia twentieth year; the queen
three years older. He possessed all the courtly
accomplishments of the times — was gallant,
showy, and liberal of his money, with which he
was well supplied from England. He thus
readily won the good-will of Mary's courtiers
and atteniianta, and made a favourable impres-
sion on her own hewt; so that personal regards
united with political ones to recommend this
fatal marriage. But, according to a contempo-
rary account, it was afterwards ascertiuned that
there was magic used to charm the queen! ■ It
appears, however, that notwithstanding this
charm, and the more real charm of Damley's per-
son and manners, the queen at first gave hia suit
a modest repulse, and avoided committing herself
until she had consulted with her half-brother
and others. Damley was not discouraged, nor
did he disdain to seek, by flatteries and other
means, the counteuance of David Rizzio, the
queen's favourite and private secretary. The
Earl of Moray did not oppose the match at this
time, and it was recommended by Maitland. In-
deed, according to one account given by the party
most friendly to Mary, her half-brother had
planned the match, and pressed her into it, hop-
ing to retain his great power in the government if
she married a young, inexperienced, and thought-
less youth. The estates of the kingdom were
asisembled at Stirling, in the month of May, and
the business being formally proposed to them,
they also recommended the marriage-~the Lord
Ochiltree alone refusing his consent, and profess-
ing openly that he could never agree to a king
who was a Boman Catholic— for the Earl of Len-
nox, notwithstanding some temptations to change,
had adhered to the old religion, and had brought
up his son in the same faith.*

When intelligence of these proceedings reached
the English court, Elizabeth wsa, or feigned to
be, wouderfully incensed, and her privy conncil
drew up a list of imaginary dangers attending

• MUrilU.

< Bnl Morloa ind Arcbituld Daaglu. irbo inmrudi i
A*h vciiffad la the tdiuiIv of Dunl*/, pBTor finipiTfl

•r Hut*! cDDdnn wu publlibad K Puii, In
Ui](arliig io iBptlTltr in BnfluuL For thi
pH« of tpnUl plowling. Inrt Uisn !■ In It «t

* VfbjtAkor, howoTBT, cualonili
httwr Kt tLiM ILue. vA ftir ths n

dolphuTiUut "mjLord DunltjwL
■oaiKiDiH ba fOaLta wHb tha qum t
lut diiji hilb bam it tba hriidu.''

b Duiil4j uid 1l

»Google

102

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil AMD Uilitart.

■uch a UDion. Maitland, who -wke despatched hj
Queen Mary to Loodon to expIfUD matters, met
nith a bad reception ; and Sir Nicholas Throg-
morton was oent down to Edinburgh to declare
bar Eugliah majeat/s diBCont«nt at the projected
match. This skilful negotiator returned well re-
warded; bnt he haA been unable to dieauade Mjkry
from the marriage, which, ss he told Cecil and his
mistreaa, was "niisliked of all the substaace of
the realm," An importAQl part of his mission
was to intrigue with the 'EaA of Moray and the
discontented Proteat«nt lords, and to promise
them Elizabeth's assistance against their queen.
"I think," says Cecil, writing to Sir Thomas
Smith, on Throgniorton's return, "that my Lftdy
Lennox ehall be committed to some farther cus-
tody; and iny lords, her husband and son, shall
forfeit that they may [have] here with us ; and
because it is likely their foundation in England
13 upon Papists, the Protestants here shall re-
ceive more comfort, and the Papists more dis-
grace." ' A few days after tbia was written the
Countess of Lennox and her yoanger son were
committed to a rigorous confinement in the
Tower, sjid all the property possessed by that
family in England was seized by Elizabeth.
&£ai7, it appears, had assured Sir Nicholas Throg-
morton that the match had proceeded too far to
be set aside with honour; and she took consider-
able pains to prove that Henry Daraley possessed
thoae recommendations which Elizabeth had de-
manded as essentials in the husband she should
choose. He was, for example, an Englishman;
and Elizabeth had set it down as a primary
point that she should marry an Englishman.
She even offered to delay the nuptials, if, by so
doing, she might hope to ohtain the approbation
of her dear sister and cousin. But further she
would not go ; nor could more in reason be ex-
pected from a high-spirited woman and an in-
dependent sovereign. This correspondence by
letters and ambassadors occupied some time; and
the fatal marriage of Mary and Dai-nley was far
from being so precipitate an affiiir as it
ally represented. Elizabeth had i
her old intrigues with her old friends the Lords of
the Congregation; and tbese lords, who had been
prepared by Throgmorton, turned a willing ear
to her suggestions, beginning [o rumour abroad
that there would be no safety for the Protestant
religion if the Catholic queen were allowed to
have a Catholic husband. It suited this party
not to heed the facta that Mary was no bigot,
and that Damley was little more than a Papist

in appearance.' The first to fall from the yonng
queen's side was her own half-brother, the Earl
of Moray, who of a sudden became jealous of
young Damley, ima^ning that, young and
thoughtless as he was, he had betrayed an incli-
nation to abridge both his political power and
hia vast estates. There were plenty to drive on
Damley in this direction. One showed a map of
Scotland and the possessions of Moray marked
upon it. Damley said it was too much. His
words were repented to make mischief ; but Mary,
to make peace, " willed I>amley to eicuse himself
to Moray." ' The earl had quarrelled with John
Ejiox, who had accused him of conniving at the
queen's masses and idolatries; but now a sudden
reconciliation took place between the crafty poli-
tician and the zealous preacher, Moi-ay engaging
to extirpate the false worship for ever. The
Duke of Chatellerault, who was as prone to
change and intrigue as ever, soon joined Moray;
and Glencaim, the Enrl of Argyle, and others,
speedily followed his example, forming a confede-
racy to oppose the mai-riage upon the grounds of
the dangers it would bring to religion, and the in-
conveniences it would draw upon the state. Mean-
while the preachers were not idle; andthedevont
citizens of Ediuburgh, inflamed by tlieir dis-
courses, made a great tumult. Upon Mary's
return from Stirling to her capital, the Assembly
of the Kirk, countenanced by the Earl of Moray,
demanded by a formal act that the qneen should
conform to the Protestant faith, and abolish the
Roman worship throughout the realm, not only
amongst her subjects, but in her own person
and family. This proposal was followed by some
more reasonable clauses respecting a better pro-
vision forthe miserably poor Presbyterian clergy;
and the document ended by entreating the young
queen to suppress immediately in her realm all
vice and immorality. To these demands the
queen returned a genlle answer in writing. As to
the mass, she said that she was not yet convinced
that it was idolatrous: she desired all hcrIori»g
subjects not to urge her to act against her con-
science, as she hud neither in times past obliged,
nor intended for the future to oblige, any man to
a forced compliance, but had granted toall liberty
to serve God after their own persuasion. She pro-
mised to do her best to relieve the want* of the
established clergy. But she had not sufficient
confidence in her own royal power to engage tlint
there should be no more vice and immorality in
Scotland, and she left that particular clause un-
answered.

fool, thil U th« »<
bin Dxn Undi Um Ibu
' Altbonfb DirataT, •• ■»

'rigU. Dtmitj hud liDuliid, Ilka
IT with Bnilnud. fai uid ittiy •>>ouJ
un EUuliMh)

I ft prwdlng QoU, tfU

»Google

i.D. ism—isee.] euza

A series of dai'k plots anil conspinwieB was
misaawhile set on foot by both parties, tor Mary
hnd Btill a powerful party that recommended the
mBiTuge. Damley, who showed hia ti-ue char-
iicter betimes, u latd to have made arrangementa
for aasaaatnating the Earl of Moray ; and Moray
(this fact is positive), in conjunction with the Earl
of Argjloaud other lords, encouraged by the Eng-
lish queen, hiid an ambush for the purpose of
making Damley, hia father, and the queen pri-
soaera, with the intention of delivering up the
two former to Elizabeth, and placing Mary in
jomesure prison in Scotland. Both plots failed;
and on the 38th of July, Damley, having pre-
viooaly been created Earl of Koaa aud Duke of
Kothesay, was proclaimed king at the market-
croaa of Edinburgh, and the next day he was
nuuried to the queen, accorrling to the Catholic
rilnal, in Ihe royal chapel at Holyrood house.'

Thi Rotu. CiiAr

The Earl of Moray, the Duke of Cliatellerault,

the Earls of Argyle, Gleucaira, and Hothes, who
bad already garrisoned their castles and pur-
chased (leilh Engliih mon^y) much ammunition,

BETH. 103

flew to arms ; but, before they could aasenible
their forces, the queen in person met thero at
the head of a royal army. Mary, who took the
field before the honeymoon was past, was clad in
light armour, and carried pistols at her saddle-
bows. Her quickness and decision disconceri^
the lords, who, without facing her, began to re-
treat, marching rapidly from place to place, aud
lighting nowhere ; so that this strange campaign
got the name of the " Round-about Raid."' In
the end, notwithstanding their turning and
doubling, they were fain to disband their forces
and See into England. As they bad taken up
arms at the instigation of Elizabeth, tbey made
sure of her aid aud protection ; and Moray and
Hamilton, the noble abbot of Kilwinning, posted
up to London to explain. But the EngUah queen
had seldom a very lively sympathy for the weak
and unfortunate; and by this time, what with
her succouring tha Iluguenota in France, and,
over and over again, the insurgents in Scot-
land, she had obtained among crowned heads a
character which she was anxious to be rid of.
The French and Spanish ambassadors, and the
envoys of other powers, had loudly coiupltuned
that she was setting a fatal example, by coun-
tenancing rebellions and insurrections, and be-
traying the cause of sovereigns in general.
Among living monarchs there was not one that
entertained higher notions of the regal dignity,
or who was less tolerant of popular discontents at
home. She was stung to the quick by those re-
monstrances, and being, beHides, fearful of pro-
voking a coalition against her, she absolutely
refused to receive the two envoys unless they
agreed U) declare pubUcly that she had in nowise
incited them to the late insurrection, and thai
there neither was nor had been any correspon-
dence or understanding between her and them.
The Earl of Moray and the abbot of Kilwin-
ning, who probably knew perfectly well that this
was only to throw dust in the eyes of foreign
courts, agreed to say whatever she chose. Then
the adroit Elizabeth admitted them to an andi-
ence,at which she took care that the French and
Spanish ambassadors should be present. And
when the two Scots had finished their. solemn
declaration exculpating her, she turned short upon
them, saying, " You have now spoken the truth)
for neither I, nor any iu my name, hath instigated
your revolt from your sovereign. Begone, like

1^ dmnih (tbit of the Ciuian(tiU]. Than h

maUona n^ftrdln^ DuuJajt'b tofal dl|(iaitf — bj

th tbi lUj iKfftTt Kbja Durriafa, It wi

B.Tlsd IxKg, imd tnttad u ndi ; bf ths noniil, which i

lad the daj t^/lcr the mAirii^v, H wv dinct«d (lut th« qoBf

lUud iliaald bs «;lal Ivv. iind that aU pablk dc

M DamLflj wiH pnxUimBd, n*

LLAHft (buTTDwlog lik«Tabbitt],(£f ji/OHn
jpton, juKpli Unit quTtti arrirtrml m AntUtm.—riiBietriur.lic.
>C«U hai (iTSB u aneanDt Id hit aim <nj of thia nonuk-
lomdinf lo falm, WonT Uatlflad biAin Ood

,v Google

lot

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

D HlLlTAItT.

The noble and quasi'TOiitl Mots)', and the
bigh-bom Eilwinning went ; but it wafl onl
the Mutheni aide of the Scottiah borders, where
Elizabeth not onljr suffered them to ekulk and
to coireepond with the factjous in Scotland, but
also Bupplied them with money. Mary, how-
ever, waa strong in the affections of a portion of
her people, and she proceeded with spirit agiunst
the fugitive lords : they were summoned to ap-
pear, and, fiuiing to do so, were declared rebels.
One Tamworth, a dependnnt of the Earl of Lei-
cester, was sent down to Scotland with a special
mission : Mary, who must have known the en-
couragement which the English court had given
to her half-brother and thereat, "refused utterly
that Queen Elizabeth should meddle to com-
pound the conb^)versies between hersabjectaaud
her." In order not to recognise Damley as king,
Tarn worth did not apply for a pass, for the want
of which he was very properly arrested by Mary's
authorities on bis return homeward. Randolph,
who stayed, ventured to tell Mary that she could
be sure of Queen Elizabeth if she would. The
queen replied that she had not begun this quar-
rel, adding, " It was h4r fault, for I demanded
those things in Lord Leicester that were fit, and
she refused. This man that I have taken bath a
right — a riffAt — he (Leicester) had none! For
your part, Mr. RandslI, you hold intelligence
with my rebels, especially Moray, against whom
I will be revenged, should I lose my crown,"
For this rage against her half-brother— and we
have only partial evidence to prove that it was
BO vehement, and we know by positive facts that
it was not lasting— there should seem to be suffi-
cient ground in the Eari of Moray's conduct
Almost the first nse that Mary made of her royal
authority was to aggrandize and enrich the Bas-
tard ; she had placed in his hands nearly the
whole power of the government — she had con-
sulted his wishes in all matters, and yet he had
taken up arms against her, had allied himself
with her enemies, and had aimed at depi-iving
her both of her crown and her liberty. The sub-
ject, real or pretended, of the quarrel was one
nearest to a woman's heart ; and if, as there are
grounda for believing, Moray had at first pro-
posed, or strongly recommended the match with
Darnley, his condnct in making that marriage
the pretext of his rebellion was surely to the full-

eat degree embittering and exasperating. And
yet, in spite of these gronnde of wnUh— Uie
greater part of which were as clear as the tan
at noon-day — the English agent alludes in mjt-
terious terms to some secret and disgusting causes
for Mary's enmity. And here we may rcmu^
that Randolph, who was a scandal-monger of th«
first order, most have known that there wa^ a
taotc for such dark rumours id the Englidi court,
and that Elizabeth encouraged indecent scan-
dals and reports— things which were afterwardB
turned against herself.'

Mary convoked a parliament for the purpose
of attainting Moray and his aeaociates, and^^
curing the consequent forfeiture of tiieir eMaUs;
but it was presently seen both Uutt her vengeance
was not implacable, and that most of the fugitiTe
lords were qutt« ready to parehaae pardon hy
abject submission. These lords, indeed, vho
had co-operated but not coalesced, bad soon dis-
agreed in their misfortunes. Their leaders, the
Earl of Moray and the Uuke of Chalelleranlt,
had rebelled upon very different principles— Mo-
ray, with an eye tu the keeping or increasing his
authority, and Chatellerault with an eye to the
succession, for he was still generally acknow-
ledged as the next heii-to the throne after Mary.
The duke, that man of many changes, was made
of more pliable materials thai) the «arl, and wss
the first to negotiate with the queen, who befur«
the assembling of parliament bad promised him
and bis party a separate pardon. Herat's
friends then applied in his behalf, and some of
Mary's partisans in En^and reconiiaended to
her as a wise step, and as oae likely to please all
Protestants in hvih king<l<Nus, an immediate am-
nesty in favour of him and his party, who were
men celebrated throughout the island for their
zeal for the Reformed docbines. The queen waa
ready to sign a free pardon, when her uncle, th«
Cardinal of Lorraine, who was in many respects
her evil genius, and to whose wisdom and expe-
rience she always paid great deference, advised
her against the measure^ and she allowed the
proceedings to go on in the pariiament. There
was another matter, however, which she had
more at heart, and that was tc procure some
degree of toleration for the Catbolica, and for
herself the exercise of her religion withont in^
sulta and himnlts. During the preceding festival

■t. in all his dain^ tfaB banourof tba Altuigh^
ioQ at the Pifitottuie nli^^lDn ; vu] EUsibeth
• Tuj Rnmdlr to hlu bafiin tha imbuHdon," H^liig
rorld «aid or nport«d of b«r, the wduIiI

her, tta kntw that Almightj God migbt jortlj »
with tha like tmalAt in bar a>
■I ipHoh UT huthai with him."

roMita. Thaw thin^n were ohlallT. hot no

•Dtlnjj

oompmsl bf

Englidi Flpirta who hid bean driysn in

iiil;:ud tbaCal)»Uag«ien%giiTa>

D«h«

,v Google

K 1366—1567.;

ELIZABETH.

103

of Eaater a Catholic priest had been seised by
the people in the act of saying mass, and with
his BKoerdotal habit and a chalice of the sacra-
mental iriue tied to his hand, he had been boand
to the markiat-croas of Edinburgh, and there
pelted with filth and mud, which the mob called
serving him with his East«r eggs. The greatest
zealot Bg« ■""»•■ Fopeiy of the present day will
surely excuse Uary for attempting to put an end
to outrages such as this; butwbetherit were that
the intolerance of her people provoked areaiition
or (which was more likely) that she was drawn
in by her uncle the cardinal, Mary .took another
step of a more questionable nature, and joined
the great Catholic alliance, which was headed by
France and Spain, and had been carried to an
intquitoQB height of cruelty and treachery by a
DieetiDg of Roman bigots at Bayoune, in 1564.

It may, however, be said in palliation, that Sfary
was doubtlem ignorant of the extent of this foul
coufederHcy against religious liberty as well as of
the atrodoue means intended, and that the power
and ill-humour of Elizabeth absolutely drove her
into the anna of the ancient allies of Scotland,
who now, on account of religion, could no longnr
be acceptable allies to her people.

A D 1566 Mary forbade Randolph hercourt,
ailing, upon good grounds, that
thongh ostensibly the amboHsadar of a friendly
power, he had taken part with her rebels, and
assisted them with money; but this sharp.eyed
agent and versatile intriguer had everywhere
Scotchmen in his pay, and he bad learned ail
about the secret negotiations with France and
Spain, and had communicated the intelligence
to Cecil and Elizabeth.*

CHAPTER XV.— CIVIL AKD MILITARY HISTORY.— A. d. 1566—1567-

ELIZABETH.

Worthing conduct of Drntnl^ — He disguata Qneon Haiy — David Blzdo'i enreer in Scotland— DBraIe;'i jsalonar
of him— Plat of Dunlaj ud tba Bcottuh noblca Bgiintt Rlizio— Ha ie uauaiiuted in tha palaca of Holyrood
— The Earl ot Honr and the buiiabad lords reoalled — Th« morderen of Riizio compellod to flee to England
— Damlaj continaea bii wottlileaa eoone — Birth ot Juuea VI. — Bliubath'i reception of tba tidings— fiaptiiiD
of Jmus* — Eliiabeth niged to nomioata ber suoceMor — She prumiMa to inarr;— Muy'i olainu to tha incaeaiion
in ths English throne — The murdereti of Riuio recullad to Scotland — Tba Earl of Bothwell deairei to muT/
tbe Seottiili qneeu — Hia intereonrse with the qneea — Quarrels botneeo Mu7 and Darnley— Damley thrutens
to lesia the kingdom — Botbwell nounded b; an ontlavr—Mai^'a viait to him — Evil aurmiaea occiaiouad bj the
riait — Damlay'B aicknesa— Ha ia broaght to Edinburgh for recoTery— Hia myatsrioaa murder — Bothwell ana-
pectad of tbe mnrder — He ia cleared by a mock trial~Ha ohtaiua ■ recommendation aa a fit hnaband to the
qaeSD- He esTriea off Hary to his oaatl« of Duabu— She leturaa to Edinboigh with Botbwall— Shs marriea
BothweH.— Her unhappLneaa aftar tha manuga.

|1eAS'WHIL£ the Scottish par-
liament proceeded in their mea-
<a against the Earl of Moray
and the other fugitives from
the "Kouud-about Baid," and
) doubt was entertained of
their convicting them, when their proceedings
were suddenly stopped and an entirely new course

given to Mary's wrath by a savage murder, di-
rected by her hust>and. The love between Mary
and Henry Damley was of the briefest duration ;
and it ia established beyond a doubt that its first
interruption was entirely owing to the miscon-
duct and bmtality of the husband. Thisvainand
shallow young man had his head turned by his
sudden elevation, and there were not wanting

ttletj of EnflUnd m

beRHDS pKnliarJf int«natLnf

wlUl HooUand. We luvs iseu in Di

EnglUi bl«D^lu^ by «i-

r caprlca and JaaIdiuj, ■■ tJuy bars bsan auppoHd ta 1
IS hiatoriana, fnm hoatila pr^ndka; by othan. fron
to aidta HupriBa at ooutraatad qaaliUs in tl>* lanrt cl
and nHm «p«lall7 at a uoioo of htfh facqltis w'
~ U fOlblaa It baa appaarod thai tha anppcaed InSoai
It be really ttaud in nagot

»Google

lOfi

niSTORT OF ENOLASD.

[OmL

ft MlUTART.

plotting roen who, for their own porpoaes, en-
coDTnged hU «xtniTagai)c« and disaip&Uoa. Be-
fore he had been nuuried two months his inao-
lence nod ■rrognnce drore aw&j from the conrt
even his own father, the Eari of t«Dnoi, who ie
Bud to hare predicted that nome fearfnl cfttB»-
trophe wonld follow.' Acting under the persna-
nion of ill-designing men, the foremoat of whom
was the Earl Morion, Chancellor of Scotland,
who represented to him that it was absttrd that
the queen sfaoald bear rule over him, since both i
nature and the law of God required that the wife
should be in inbjection to her hnsband, he pre- ,
tended to rule in his own right, and imperionslj
clumed the whole anthoriCj of gOTerament.
Mary, who would hardtj yield to violence, might
have conceded much to affection ; bat, almost
from the first week of his marriage, he neglected
the handsome qneen and gave himself ap to low
indulgences. Where all eyes were watGhful,and
most ejren desirous of inch an event, it was im-
possible to conceal this disagreement. Elizabeth's
ageuta diligently reported the progress ot the
wretched broil.

The effect of this coodunt on a higb-spirited
woman was inevitable ; Marj became weorf of
the society of the drunkard and brawler, who
wonld threaten her servants and draw bis dag-
ger in her presence, and somewhat checked that
liberolilj with which she bad heaped money and
honours upon him. The imbecile Damley, who
wonld not see the provocation and insupportable
insults he had given, conceived that the queen's
favour most have been alienated from him by
some person having an influence over her heart ;
and it appears that certain noble lords who had
taken offence at the favonrite, or were anxious
to drive matters to eitremities, suggested or
strengthened the suspicion that this individual
was Bizzio, the queen's secretary. David Hizzio
had come to Scotland, a short time before this
wretched marriage, in the suit of Morata, the
ambassador of Savoy: he was a person of what was
called low birth, but be bad beeu exceedingly
well educated, and, among many other accom-
plishments, was on excellent musician. Mnry's
love for music amounted to a pasaion^good
musicians were rare in Scotland— nud she was
iiiituroUy attracted to the accomplished Italian,
who soon evinced other and higher abilities thnii
those of playing wiil singing. His knowled^ of

1] writuif u
Tonne king It k iiwlent u hia blimr ia rtmij of )
iii«it.uiillid*pHMiltn>iiilh«Douni"— Ellij, BUI
h* WM MtTBtud lo Uw qtiHu'a ilda, lUudolpb U
" D*ib1«7'i InhaTloitr !• nich (hu ba ii dnpiied. .

particularly usefnl for carrying on
her foreign correspondence ; and when her French
necrctary left ber, she promoted him to tint coii-
fideatial office, which, of necessity, occasioned hia
being constantly about the queen's persoa. It
was instantly deemed a crime that the qneen
should employ a foreigner in dntiea for whicb
there were probably no natives that were 6t;
and the proud nobles, who despised literary st-
tainmenta and accomplishments which they did
not possess themselves, considered the Signor
David OS niithing bnt a base-bom fiddler, and
were highly incensed at the favour and confi-
dence reposed in him. Sometimes they voeld
rudely sboulder him, aud make grim foees at
him in the very presence-chamber ; but still st
otbnr times, some of them would not scmple to
cajole and flatter him, and make bim preaeuta
when they b%A favoare to ask of the queen. It
ia Bud that Rizzio was intoxicated with hia pro-
motion, aud showed pride and ostentatiou. It ii
pinb&ble that there waa some truth in Uie acca-
aation ; and it is certain, that those who afler-
wards accused him, fostered these feelings bj
tbeir bnsenessand trucklingtohim;batyettlierf
is good evidence to show that the poor Italiao
saw his position in its true light, and was snxioui
for more security with a little less honour. He
lamented to the ingenuous Melville, who wa*
now constantly at Mary's court, that the favour
and confidence of the queen exposed him to envy
and danger.' For a long time Uiere was not ao
much as a bint breathed of there being any im-
morality in the queen's predilections; and, ac-
cording to tradition, David Rizzio was not the
sort of person likely to excite a criminal and
dangerous passion, being iU-favoured, if not de-
formed in his person, and considerably odvanceil

Kizdo was, as we have mentioned, a confidant
of Damley when that young man began hia
courtship of the queen ; and it appears that be
forwarded Damley*s suit with whatever power
he possessed. When Daruley arrived at the Scot-
tish court Rizzio had only been two monttiB in
Mary's service, Mary's affection for Damley
was immediate, and it lasted till the latter for-
feited it by bis gross miscouduct, Rizzio being all
the time neither more nor leas about the queen
than before and after. According to the account
of those lenst prejudiced sgainst Mary, Daraley'a

nupidDU. whioh klml ot mim Ulii »U
3- I lauBOAaA), ol tJOf othar. cw won* beu."— Origiul LHur.
m quoted by Kaaaw. Htn w Bud ttia EngUili igmt ipailrai
- \ ot ^a vtij probttblt MtaaaintHon of DAjnlaf by £iW tn^jftu a(

hjia UtUit hflaporof IWHbJfcta; but ito pv^uoaLoo qui idiui^

»Google

i. D, 1566—1567.] ELIZA

attvage hfttred of the Itoliim aroae not from aay
lovB-jealouBj, but from the fkTourite'a taking the
libertj to remonslrate with him on hiB treatment
of the queen, and from liis being euspectsd by
Dantlej of advising the queen never to bestow
on him the matrimonial crown. These gronnde
of batred, which, in a man like Damley, were
quite sufficient to account for what followed, are
mada prominent even in the acconnta of thoee
who are disposed to take the worst view of ^e
queen's coudact ; bnt tAey add to then, as ano-
ther incentive to the murder, the paaaion of jea-
lousy, which, according to their showing, there
were suspicious circumstances to jnstify. What-
ever were his motives, when Dandey spoke of
revenge to some of the nobles, he found them
dispoeed to encourage the feeling, and unscrupu-
loiu as to the means to be adopted for its gratifi-
catioQ. Tbey all hated the favourite ; some pei^
haps the more, because tliey had debased them-
selves before him ; and as several hot Presbyte-
rians engaged in the plot, some of them, no
doubt, thought that it would be a very merito-
rious deed to murder a man who corresponded
in the queen's name with the pope of Borne.'
Among the latter was the fierce Lord Buthven
— a nobleman in good favour with the Lords of
the Congregation and the preachers — who rose
from a bed of sickness to have a principal hand
in the bloody deed. The Earl of Morton, who
bad encouTttged Darnley's pretensions to the ma-
trimonial crown, and who was still chancellor of
the kingdom, though suspecting, on his part, that
Mary meant to take the seals from him, and give
them to her Italian secretary, engaged all the
rest of the Douglases, legitimate or illegitimate,
to take up the quarrel of their iintman — for
Daroley, as a descendant of the Earl of Angus,
waa of Douglas blood — and it perfectly agreed
with their family notions that Damley should be
king in bis own right, and supreme over Uary.

I. 107

But there were still various other motives h«-
tuating some of the conspirators, who wished to
stop the proceedings in parliament— to recai the
Earl of Uoray, with the other banished lords,
whom they considered as the champions of the
kirk, and who were excessively Jealous of the
Earl of Bothwell, who, after a variety of adven-
tures, including a short exile, had been recalled
urt. This turbulent, dangerous man, of an
ancient and powerful famUy, and hereditary Lord
Uigfa-admiral of Scotland, was recommended to
Maty, notwithstanding his profession of Protes-
tantism, by his constant adherence to her mother
the queen-regent, and by his seemingly steady
and disinterested devotion to her own interests.
These indeed were circumstances apt to make
her overlook his extravagance and the other de-
fects of bisioipetuous character; but when Mary's
half-brother, the Earl of Momy, accused Botli-
well of an attempt to assassinate him, he found
protection from the queen, and was obliged to
Qee the country. He returned in 1064-5, main-
taining his innocence. Moray insisted on bis
being brought to trial, and proposed attending
the justice court with SOOO men in arms. Feel-
ing that an accuser with such witnesses was not

be faced, Bothwell fled over to France a se-
cond time, and there remained till Moray's dis-
grace and flight, when Mary recalled him, and
gave him the command of all the Scottish mar-
ches; and, according to Mary's own account of
the dork transaction. Lord Buthven, with bis
dagger still reeking with the Italian's blood,
told her that they had done the deed because
she maintained the ancient religion, refused to
receive the fugitive lords, maintained friendship
with foreign princes and nations, and received
into her cguncil the Earls of Bothwell and Hunb-
ly, who were traitors and allies of Bizzio.'

These noble lords, however, were determined
to make the act appear as Darnley's, and to ob-

Hanllr, Bothmll. uhI A1
af tiB CuboUs jitrtj. Tbof, with tt
6imatAti Xuj fnm jfeldjug to Uwantn
loih* imdnit eaanmcl al HsItIUs, uhll
1i«r to imrdon v powsrftil ■ bcdj trf nt

"<{

of tlH icu of IMO. br u undlipnicd )i«Uame

flu lUbrnwd cbmcb the priTUflgH which II had pnftbvUj

ver^ with wbioh ha BxecaUd wl
dgna ; uid with tha hrllliuit uid hworutvit LotUn^toD, ad-
miroA hj bU partis bnt aoanelr tnatad bj anj ; for in tha

tha good are cAan compellad to andoia tha ao-operatkni of tba
biuL In tliiacan tha■Iiltdlord^ofwhamIIluTWKVHlIn'
J>^oaohabl■ aa Ibfl wrruptin^ powor of intaatlna war will anfl'er
man iUBg to GoutinuB in that nnhajipj condition of aodety,
Tnnat not ba hflld Co ba pijltlaai^ aren altlioQ^ tfaa moat do-
plorabla part of tha aouiQt wbiG^ enanad ihonld ba dl»ctJ>
aactjbad to the kuown dapravit^ of their aaodBtv. or to tbe
acddeiLti whl^ Daoall^ attend lawLfaa braila." — Sir JaUHa
Haakintoah. Bill. Bug.

»Google

108

HISTOEY OF ESGLAND.

[Civil a

3 MaiTART.

tAiu what they might represent u royal, if doL
legaJ BQthority. They made Damley aign a
(ol«mn docanient, in which be took the conapi-
ratoTB under his eapecMl protection. Mar; was
at this time eevcD moDthB advanced in pregnancy
with her first and only child ; and it has been
cot unreaeouably concladed that it was intended
to cause the death of more persons than the un-
fortunate favourite ; for, after mature delibera-
tion, it was resolved tocommit the murder Iwfore
her very eyes whilst she WHS
iu this critical condition.
The bloody bond was sign-
ed on the Ist or the 5th of
March : on tlie Sth of the
tnme III on th,ataeven o'clock
in the evening, just as the
queen was fiiiiBhing her
Bu ppei', audquietlyconvem-
ing with the Coimteits of A r-
gyle and Arthur ErskiMi-,
the governor of Holyrool-
house, who sat at bible with
her, while Rizzio was seat^l
at hiB meal at a side table,
acconliiig to his usual cus-
tom when he whs in wait-
ing, and while several at-
tendants, male and female.

that he left the weapon up to itx hilt in the body
of the victim. The tears and entreaties of Mary,
the shrieks of the Cooutesa of At^le and the
servants, made no more impression on the hearts
of these men than on their steel breastplates:
while some stood before the queen with cocked
pistols (and one of them, named Andrew Ker,"
is said to have presented bis pistol close to her
body, swearing that he would destroy both her
and the c.hild within her), the others dragged

1 the r

r the

apartment adjoining, the
king suddenly entered, and,

placing himself behind the CnaiiBeii is Uoltiiooe
qneeu, gazed savagely on

the secretary. In the next miuute Dainley
was followed by the Lord Rutbven, pale and
ghastly from recent disease and present spite,
and in complete avmour. Close ou Rutbven'a
'ste|)s stalked several other coniipiiutors, all iu
armour like himself. Darnley spoke not a
word, but Buthven, in a hollow voice, Imde
Rizzio rise and come forth, for the place he sat
in did not become him. Perceiving what was
meant, the queen started up, and asked her hus-
band whether he knew anything of this foul
attempt; aud,'Ou his denying it, she commanded
Lord Ruthven, on pain of treason, to quit her pre-
sence. The poor Itjilian, iu the meanwhile, had
run behind the queen's table, and now, seizing
the queen by the skirts of her garment, implored
her proWction, and crieii aloud for juslii'e. But
Rutbven and his satellites overturned the tnble
upon the queen and the secretary, and then
l>amley held the queen's arms, trilling her that
their business was only with the secretary, while
the rest of the murderers dragged Rizzio froni
his hold. Then George Douglas, a l>astanl of the
Angus family, pulling out the king's own dagger,
•truck Rizzio with it, and with so deadly a blow

Rizzio into the ante-chamber, and there de-
spatched him with fifty-six wounds. While thin
savage deed was doing, Morton, the Chancellor
of Scotland, whose special duty it was to protect
and enforce the laws,kept the doors of the palace
with a number of armed men, in order to pre-
vent any one entering to succoiu" the queen. As
long as there was life in the victim, or a hope of
life, Mary implored and wept, offering to give up
Rizzio to the laws if he had offended them ; but
when told that be was dead, alie is said to have
exclaimed, " 1 will then dry my tears and think
of revenge !" She was in great fear of miscarri'-
iLig, and sent for the midwife at eight o'clock.
Darnley, who was as great a fool as villain, now
Httem])ted to console her, and to eionerale him-
self by accusing and cursiug his accomplices
But this was not before Euthveu and the rent
had withdrawn. At this moment Mary saw nn
means of esi-a|ic out of the hands of the biitchei-K,
who had placed their armed retainers round tlie
palace, unless through her hunliand, and she

»Google

4.D. 1566-1S67.] ; ELIZA

niade the imbecile and bewiTdered Damlej be-
lieve that she accepted his jmti&cation, andfnsl;
pardoiied him. On thefollowiugdaj, to tbemr-
prise of tboee who were not in the Beoret, the
Eftrl of MoKij and the banished lords presented
themselves at Holyrood, pretending that the;
had come to stand their trial briore their peers
in parliament — a step which they were notliketj
to take had the; not. known of the projected as-
saasination, which waa sure U> prodace a revolu-
tioD at court. It appears, indeed, cei'tain that the
fugitive lords, who had been in hiding aeax the
Borders, hod received due warning; and there
sre reaaoos for believing, what is poaitivelj as-
serted hj some, that Elizabeth and Cecil were
accessories both before and after the deed, and
that the Esrl of Moray biniselt was not only
duly informed, but an original promoter of the
plot Tha web of this intrigue is altogether so
inCncate, the treachery of such a compounded
nature — for everyboily was betraying every one
else, and working for a separate object— that the
mind ia utterly bewildered and tost in the maze-
It appears, however, that the Eurl of Moray
and Am associates expected to find Morton and
Ruthven placed at the beiid of affaire ; but that,
as this did not happen, through the defection of
Damley, who now stood for his wife, they in-
stantly agreed to shape a. different course, and to
take part with the queen, conclading that her
enmity agAinst them would be swsUowed up by
her wrath at the more recent and moat intoiep-
able injury she had suffered: aud they were quite
ready to give up their quondam friends, and
profit by their downfall. Moray, apparently,
through the agency of Damley, who was equally
ready to forget or deny the solemn bond which
he had signed with Buthven and his party for
the murder of Rizzio — a deed therein declared to
lie for the glory of God and tha advancement of
true religion — formally agreed to detach himself
and his friends from the iiit«resta of the assas-
sins, and to aid the queen in bringing them to
justice. Upon this, Morton, Buthven, and the
rest, fled to those very hiding-places in the Eng-
lish marches which Moray and bis associates
had jnst abandoned, and from which Morton aud
Rnthveu had recalled them.

When Mary met her half-brother, forgetting
all former wrongs, and r^arding him again as
her natural defender in the midst of the blood
and treachery and iron hearts that surrounded
ber, she received him with open arms, kissed
him, and imputed her ill-usage to his absence,
weeping in a mixed passioa of joj and auguish.
The Earl of Moray wai, te ail appearance,
equally affected; and the fuithful Melville, who
was present, relates that be shed tears. But
we have pretty good evidence to show that

Mot«y was dissimulating, as also that he had
been engaged in th« plot for Rizzio's murder,
a fact which has been disputed by historians
ous to Diake the. best of the godly eail.
The IBail of Bedford and Randolph, who wrote
joint letter to the privy council of Eaghwd,
giving a cool, if not an approving account of the
assassination, say, at the end of their narrative :
— let "The Earl Morton and Lord Rnthven,
finding themselves left by the king, for all his
Mr promises, bonds, and aubscriptions, and see-
ing the others tall from them, tavinff the EaH of
Moray and «ucA Of were of the last enterpriie,
thought best to provide for Uiemselves, and so
every one of them take their several way where
they think that they may be most at ease or
surety." Sd. "My Lord of Moray, by a special
servant sent unto oa {that i», to Bedford and
Jtandolph, vrho were at Bermek), deaircth your
honours' (EuzAsarn's paivr oocmcil!) favour
aud protection to these noble men aa his l_Mo-
i^i) dear friends, and meh a* far hu aaki hath
given thit adventure." And in the postscript to
this same letter the noble earl and the rising
Randolph give, to tkeir protector* the lords of the
privy council, a list of " the names of such as
were doers and of counsel iu this Inst attemptate
committed at Edinbui^h." In this list appear
the Earl of Morten, chancellor; Sir John Balen-
den, justice-clerk, or second judicial authority of
Scotland ; Lord Ruthven ; bis son, the Master of
Rnthven; his brother, Alexander Ruthven; Lord
lindsay; tbe Laird of Lochleven;- Mr. Adam
Erakine, abbot of Cambuskenneth ; Andrew Ker;
Andrew Cunningham, aon to the Earl of Glen-
caim ; Mr. Archibald Douglas ; Oeorge Douglas,
uncle to Damley; Ormeston, who afterwards had
a hand in Damley'a own murder ; Thomas Scott,
under-aheriff of Strathearu; the Laird of Car-
michael, and rixteen other distinguished assassins,
including Maitland of Lethington, to whose name
is put " secret," to show that he was not as yet
suspected. "All tbeae," add Bedford and Ran-
dolph, "are men of good living, besides anuml>er
of other gerUlemtn.' They also mention tliat two
lairds and a provost had been tfdieu aud impri-
soned, and that the Earl of Lennox, Damley's
father, had been ordered to leave the court.'

During these transactions tbe Earl of Both-
well and the Earl of Hnntly (son of the attiunted
earl, slain, in 1563, at Corrichie) had done their
best to serve the qneen. According to one ac-
count, they were both in HoljTood at the time
of Bizzio's murder, and iufeor of their own lives,
escaped out of a window.' They collected troops

^ Tba vbold of ihlM lipporlant u
bf Sir BmiT EUii, from tbt oiigiiuJ u
in Brit, Mu., in hli Or;

■ L«tUr tlom tUndill, or Rudulpfa, t
oni>cil.-Ha>t. MS3.

,v Google

no

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[CiTIL A.

> MlUTAET.

immediaUlj ; And vben Hatj went with her
hiubanil to Duobur Castle, they waited upon him
with all their friends, who among them had col-
lected an armj ot 8000 men — & meaBure which,
not less than the winning over of the Earl of
Many, had induced Morton and Riithven
flee acrow the Borders. On Mary's return
Edinburgh, all her odveraariea were diapened ;
and the king moat solemnly protested before the
council, that he had never consented to S:
David's death i that the murder bad been
mitted much against his will, and that he would
in no manner protect the murderers. tTpoowbich,
the next day, proclamation was made at the
croaB of Edinburgh against the lords, and declar-
ing the king's innocence. But these lords were
safe in England, where Elizabeth, for her
purposes, left tbem undisturbed ; and when Mary,
in concert with the French court, demanded that
she should gi ve them up as men guilty of the
worst of crimes, she coolly replied that she did
not think it proper so to do until the ScotUsh
queen's anger against them should be somewhat
moderated.' Mary prosecuted seven of the mur-
derers of Kizzio, but only two mean men were
executed. The great men, as we have shown,
were kept out of her reach by one who professed
herself a wonderful venerator of justice; and
Mary, who was certainly not fond of blood, pro-
bably felt that it would be both nofair and ab-
surd to punish their miserable retainers and
instruments. It has also been surmised that
she was aoiious to close the proceedings, in
order to screeu one who was still her husband.
For a short time — it may well be imagined that
the time was vary short— Mary, Damley, and
Moray seemed to agree tolerably well — the
queen dividing her power between her hnsband
and brother. But Damley was irretrievably
lost in habits and in reputation, and, fool though
he was, it was difficult for bim to believe that,
&ft«r such wrongs, his wife's reconciliation
could be sincere. He sought refuge from his
painful thoughts in wine and low company, and,
though be absented himself, he was jealous ot
every person that approached the queen's ear,
ever fancying that there was a plot on foot to
avenge on him the Holyrood murder. As early
as the 4th of April, scarcely a month after that
deed, Randolph wrote to Cecil— "The queen has
now seen all the covenants and bonds that passed
between the king and the lords, and now finds
that his declaiution, before her and the council,
of his inuocunee of the detith of Rizzio was false,
and is grievously offended that, by this means,
ho had seeked to come by the crown-mstrimo-

I BareUtti Paprrt: Zaudomi USS., u iiiioted by Raiudst.

On the t9th of June, 1566, Mary, in the mMle
of Edinburgh, was delivered of a son, afterwarda
James the Sixth of Scotland and Fiist of Eng-
land. It had been agreed beforehand that Eliza-
beth should stand godmother to the infiut Junn,
and Mary now despatched the diligent and faith-
ful Melville to London. Melville did not epare
the spur: he took horse at noon and rode to
Berwick that night; and on the fourth day he
reached London, where his brother Eobert »m
residing as Mary's ambassador. Sir fiobert scat
immediately to adverUse Secretary Cecil of tti«
birth of the prince, and Cecil pasted forthwith
down to Greenwich, where he found his mistr^m
in great glee daneing after mipper. [Her snppen
were not subject to such intermptions ss those
of her rival.] "But," says Melville, "so soon ai
the Secretary Cecil whispered in her earthenewa
of the prince's birth, all her mirth was lud sside
for that night. All present marvelled whence
proceeded such a change ; for the queen did at
down, patting her hand under her cheek, bunt-
ing out to some of her ladies that the Queen uF
Scots was mother of a fair son, while she wia
but a barren stock.* On the following mondng,
when Melville had his audience, all this was
changed. Elizabeth met him in herbestapparet,
saying that the joyful news oommnnicated by
Secretary Cecil had recovered her out of a heavy
sickness which she had lain under for fiFt«en dayg :
and therefore," adds he, "aha welcomed me with
meny volt,' and thanked me for the diligence I
had used in basting to give her that welcome intel-
Ugence. The day after his audience, where the aiit-
ing of the queen was too transparent, he received
royal letter, with the present of a fair chain.'
Her English majesty accepted with alacrity the
office of godmother; and, as it was a long journey
for ladies, she appointed two men, the Earl of
~ ' 'ord and Mr. Carey, son of her kinsman Loi'd
Hunsdon,* with a goodly retinue of knights and
intlemen, to act as her proxies. As, however,
female was indispensable, the Countess of Ar-
gyle, one of the spectators of Riszio's murder,
was appointed to represent Elizabeth at the bap-
tismal font There were two godfathers, the
King of fVance being joined by the Duke of
Savoy, and these princes were represented by
their respective ambassadors. The ceremonj
was performed at Stirling by the Archbishop of
St. Andrews, according to the Roman Cathohc
ritual. During the time of Divine service the
Earl of Bedford, and all the Protestant gentle-
men sent down by Elizabeth, stood outside the
chapel, not daring to partake in the idolatries

»Google

A.D. 1366-1S67.] ELIZ.'

of the mass. "Uary waa penure and rneUn-
choly;* Damlej did not appear at all, and hia
absence waa macb noticed. The fact was, he
had Bta<red awaf t« save hia pride, for Elisabeth
bad fltrictly charged the Earl of Bedford and the
EogUshmen in his companj not to treat him
king; and to avoid the mortification of being
refuaed the royal title before the whole court, he
kept awaj from the chrieteuing.

But, between the birth and the baptisi
Jamea, Dsmley had beeome more than
estnmged from the qaeeo, white the Earl of
Bothwell had obtained complete poaaeaaioa of
the royal favour. It waa agunat the Earl of
Moray, however, that the wrath and machina-
tions of the wealc king-eonaort were nov

Meet of the cootemporsry writen assert that
Duntey really had a design against the life of
[be qneen's half-brother, and Moray was n
man likely to fo^^ve him Utia intention. At
the same time, the friends and dependants of
Morton and Ruthren entertiuned a deadly hatred
agsinat Daruley for his behaviour after the mur-
der of lUzdo ; and they said, among themselvea,
that he deserved to die the death of a coward
and tnutor for sacriSdng men whom Ad had
induced to stain their hands in blood. In short,
Damley had enemies in all quarters, and friends
in none; and it may have been fear which
made him embrace at oue moment the project
of travelling on the Continent

The birth of James teuded la more ways than
one to increase the ill-humoura and jealousies of
Elizabeth. It revived the spirit of Mary's parti-
Eana in England, who were mostly, bnt not all,
Catholics. These men, seeing the English queen
still nnmarried, and likely for ever to remain so,
began to calculate as a certaiaty on the euccea-
rion falling, if not to Mary, to her sou ; for at
this time the line of Suffolk had almost dropped
out of notice. It appears to have been this ^ig-
lish party that got up on alarm as to the un-
settled state of the succession ; but as the danger
in ease of Elizabeth's death, was so great and ao
obvious, all parties soon joined in presung for
some settlement, either by Elizabeth's marriage
or otherwiw. It was scarcely possible for Mary
to be indifferent to this question, and in an nn-
Incky hour she again pressed her rival to name
her socoesaor, and obtain from the pariiament a
recognition of her own rights. In fact, during
some stormy debates in both houses,' Mary waa

SETH. 1 1 1

mentioned aa being the firat in the order of suo-
ceasioa after Elizabeth. But this extraordinary
woman stopped further proceedings, by declaring
that she intended to marry, and to have, by God's
grace, an heir of her own body. These debates
occupied a cooaiderable part of the months of
October and November, and both lonis and com-
mons showed a determined spirit to which they
had long been strangers — the commons even pt^>
posing that the question of supplies and Uiat of
the ancceesion should go hand in hand. Then
our old friend, Sir Balph Sadler, with a serious
face told the commons that he had heard the
qneen's majesty declare, in solemn manner, that
she would take a husband for the good of her
people. As the house was in all probability not
quite eonvinced by Sir Ralph, Elizabeth ordered
Secretary Cecil, Sir Francis Knollye, Sir Ambrose
Carr, chancellor of the duchy of Lancaster, and
Sir Edward Rogers, comptroller of her household,
to make the same declaration. The commons,
however, seem to have been still unconvinced ;
they joined the question of the marriage with the
question of settlement, and were proceeding with
earnestness when Elizabeth eommatuM them not
proceed further in that matter. This impera-
tive order gave great discontent; but the com-
mons had not aa yet settled what were their
privileges; and Paul Weittworth, the member
that ehowed more spirit, ventured'ontj to douit
whether such an interference on the part of the
crown were not an infringement of the liberties
and privileges of the house. Cecil endeavoured
store good humour and a confidence which
he scarcely felt himself, by assuring them that
Elizabeth pledged to the house the word of a
queen that she would marry; after which he
made some statements which confirm, what ought
r have been doubted by historians, that
Elizabeth hod been a most troublesome prisoner
the days of her sister Mary. Speaking in the
name of her majesty, Cecil told the house, that
Lamingofasuccessor must be attended with
great danger to her own person; that she had
herself eiperieoced, during the reign of her sister,
how much court waa usually pud to the next
heir, and what dangerous sacrifices men would
make of their present duty to their future pro-
ipecta; and that, therefore, she had delayed the
naming of any successor. But still the commons
restive^Bome of them even declaring that
the queen was bound in duty to secure them
against the chances of a civil war and a disputed
isaion ; that, by persisting in her present
conduct, she would show herself the stepmother,
not the natural parent of her people, and would
seem to dew're that England should subsist no

»Google

112

HISTORY or ENGLAND.

[Civil and Uiut^rt.

longer than sh« ahanUl have the gloiy and aa- I tketT«atyof£duiburgb, which had been deferred,
tiafactioQ of goveming it. Never bad the com- a« ahe siud, "upoD acoountof aome wordstherein
mona beeo so bold. Elizabeth was alarmed into . prejudicial to ite qaeen's right and title befont
civility : she called up the speaker to court, aa- l all othen, after na.* But a complianoe with thia
siirod him tli»t ahe waaslDcere in her intention of would have been nothing leaa than a reuunciatiou
marrying, but repeated her prohibition as to the < on Mary^ part of all rights to the Englinh sue-
debates atiU going on. The membera, however, ceaxion (for so much waa implied iu the treaty of
showed a determination not to obey thia com- j Ediubiirgh), only aoftened by a promiite from
maud; upon which she waa gmcioualj pleaaed , one whose merit in promise-keeping had not been
to revoke it, and to allow the house the liberty ' very couapicuous. It might, indeed, have been
of debate. The Utter wiae meaaure cooled their , better for Mary had she gratified her imperious
heat, and they voted the aupplies without hamp- rival in thia particiiliu'; but her refuaal was
ering them with conditions. Soon after this, the ' neither unjust nor uureaaonabte, but perfectly
queen diasolved the parliament; but it waa not I conaiatent with an honest diplomacy. Elizabeth,
conaiatent with her temper and her notiona of however, was furious. We have not evidence to
prerogative to permit them to depart without a I prove the full extent to which her conscience per-
leaaon. As it was Elizabeth'a policy never to do
anything unpopular with one hand without per-
forming some popular act with the other, she
remitted payment of part of the supplies voted
to her, making that roeraorable and captivating
speech — that moDey iu the puraea of ber anbjecta
waa aa good to her aa in her own escliequer.'

On the Stli of November, while the debatea
were at the warmest in the English parliament,
Mary addressed a letter to Elisabeth's privy
council, calling to mind that her hereditary right,
aa had lately been mentioned iu parliameut, was
indiapntable. "And, albeit," continues Mary,
"we be not of mind to press our good aist
tker than aholl come of her own good pit

to put the matter in question, yet likewise we ford, she granted the murderers a free panji
will be judged by the laws of England. We do and within a few days the Lords Morton, Ruth-
affecUiousIy require you to have respect to justice yen, and Lindsay, with seventy-five other conapi'
with indiffarenoy, whenever it shall please the tators, chiefly the followers of Morton, return*
queen to put it in deliberation." As the Eng- into Scothmd, where, within six mouths, thi_
liah parliameut was actually engaged on the , disgraced and dethroned their forgiving sove-

mitted her to go, but it ia certain that she threw
more, activity into intrigues and proceedings
which had never been interrupted, and Bought
to preserve tranqnitlity at home, and to avoid
naming an odious successor, by stirring «p fre><h
troubles iu Scotland. Her agents at Edinburgh
had continual conferences with Moray: the lor<la
who had murdered Rizzio were taken under
her special and avowed protection: and when
the Earl of Bedford attended at the chrialauiug
of James, he was inatructed by his sovereigu and
Secretary Cecil to take advantage of that happy
moment to plead to Queen Mary iu their hvour.
. Mary, as we have seen, was not happy or cheer-
I ful at that moment ;' yet, at the petition of Bed-

matter, and seemed determined to press Eliza- reign. Damley, who i

I Stirling Cnatle,

beth to a decision, nothing could well be more quitted that place for GUagow a
a matter of course than Mary's mentioning her beard that the queen hod caused the privy seal
own claims at such a moment. But the meosiu-e ! to be pnt to the panlon of Morton, a man whom
evidently chagrined her rival, who waa further j he had good reason to dread. According to John

■ritated by a request urged by Melville-
cause certain persons, now living, to be examined
of their knowledge of the manner of the Isat tes-
tament of King Henry."' The will of Henry
VIII., which barred in the most irregular man-
ner the Scottish line, was indeed the only oletocle
to Mary's hereditary claim, and thia will waa
suspected to have been a forgery. Elizabeth,
who waa reaolvetl to do uo auch thing, instructed
the Earl of Bedford to tell Mary that she meaiit
to examine her father's will as soon as she should
lind it convenient; but, on the other hand, he
was to refiuest the Scottish queen fully to confirm

*« hrWI; la hi* Juumti, "Iu
'• mijslT did mull ■ fii at

Knox, Damley left the queen abruptly, " without
good night." Bothwell, on the contrary, testified
great joy at the recal of the exiles, and even
went to meet Morion, with whom he had a long
conference at Whittingbam, on tlie Scottish bor-
dera; where, according to Morton's confession,
when hia own hour came, be was admitted into
the secrels of a conspiracy for murderiug Dam-
ley.' At the aanie time the Earl of Moray, who

»Google

A.D. 1566- 1567.] ELIZA.

bad pleaded for the exUeti ia England, conducted
tbe Earl of Bedford to hia honae in Fife, and
there treated him "with much honour, great
cheer, and conrteoos entertainment,' things which
we are entitled to anrmise, were but a carer to
more aerioua transactions.

It should appear that Both well, whose andacitj
wiu equal to anything, conceived Uie notion of
nuurying the queen, building' confidently on her
affection for his penon. Yet this scheme must
have been recent and sudden, as also the love of
tbe qaeea, upon which it ie said to have been
founded. Bothwell, not ux months before, bad
loarried the sister of the Earl of Hnntly, and,
though he got rid of this incumbrance, he would
scarcely have taken a wife if he had then contem-
plated a union with the queen. Mary, on tlie
other hand, seems to have given no very atriking
i>roof of an ardent and headlong paaaion. Some
little cireumstanoeB usually cited agmnst her ad-
mit of a very different explanation from the one
generally given. We mnst here descend to min-
utiae otherwise unworthy of a place in history.
Un tbe 27th July, Mary set sail in a. vessel, man-
ned by Bothwell, for Alloa, about thirty miles
up the Forth. This waa called by her enemies
a going away with the pirates and with Both-
well; but that earl, as lord high-admiral, was the
jiropier person to attend to such a voyage, and the
pirates were Scottish sailors under his command.
The queen, who was recovering from the effects
of child-bearing, was too weak to trftvel on horse-
liack, and it appears that aha had no wheel-car-
riage. But even if there had been a carriage
and good roads (which were altogether wanting),
a voyage by sea was prefenble under all circum-
BtancA. Tbe queen was going to visit the Earl
of Mar, a most honourable and devout man,
according to the showing even of his enemies; and
that nobleman, together witli Moray and most
of her officers of state, besides Bodiwel), accom-
]iauied her. Damley, it is tne, chose to go by
land ; bat Dsmley, beaidee being in different case
from hia convalescent wife, was at open enmity
with the Earl of Uoiay, and was besides, way-
ward and capricions, like a spoiled boy. On the
29th of July the queen returned to Edinburgh
to meet the n«ncb ambaasador, who had arrived
to congratulate her upon her safe ddivery ; and,
on the 1st of August, she ascended the Forth
again to Alloa, when her husband joined her
and remained two nighta with her. During
this time Secretary Haitland, who hadabaoonded
after Rizxio's assassiaation, in the arranging of
which he had played a foremoat part, was
doned in spite of BotiiwelL On the 4th of
August Mary again descended the Forth,
took up her abode at Holyrood, to all appearance
much improved in health by h^ stay at AUoa

lETH. 113

and her short sea voyages. For two days after
her retnm she and her husband agreed well
tc^iether, and when diseenrions broke out the
e of Bothwell was not mentioned; but it
said that Damley was offended with the
queen for keeping so much company with Moray,
her half-brother, and then her prime miniater;
and it was at this moment that Damley is ac-
cused of threatening to make away with Moray.
In spite, however, of these broils, Mary and
her husband, attended by Euntly, Moray, and
other nobles, hunted together in Peeblesshire for
three or four days, and returned in company to
Edinburgh on the 20th of August. On tbe 22d
of the same month Maiy and Damley went to
Stirling, carrying with them Prince Jamsa.
Leaving their infant in Stirling Castle, they
went together to hunt for a few days in Olenart-
ney, in Perthshire. On the 31st of August they
returned to Stirling, where they remained toge-
ther, with their child, nearly a fortnight. On
the ISth of September Mary went to Edinburgh
to attend public business, and Damley refused
to accompany her. On the Slst of the same
month the queen returned to her husband. Two
days after she repured alone to Edinburgh, hav-
ing in vain endeavoured to make her wayward
husband go with her. It was at this crisis that
Damley spoke of going abroail: his own father,
the Earl of Lennox, informed the queen of this
strange design. Mary instantly laid Lennox's
letter before her privy council, and, on that same
night at ten o'clock, Damley arrived at Edin-
burgh; but he would not enter Holyroodhouee
unless three of the chief nobles who were there
should be dismissed. These were, according to
one account, tbe Earla of Moray, Argyle, and
Rothes; according to another, Moray, Bothes,
and Secretary Maitland, In no contemporary
account is there mention made of Bothwell, and,
in addition to hia old grounds of jealousy and
enmity against Moray, it is mentioned that
Damley was at this moment enraged because he
could not obtain such things as he sought — to
wit, the dismissals of Secretary Maitland, the
justice clerk, and the clerk of registry. Ou
the morrow, when Damley came to his senses,
the queen, in presence of the privy council and
the Bishop of Boss, took him by the hand and
conjured him (o say whether she had ever given
him offeuoe, and to state the true cause of bis
discontent. He declared that the queen bad
never given him any cause of complaint, and
that be had no real intention of quitting the
kingdom ; aud yet, when he returned from the
council, he aaid to the queen, "Adieu, madam, yon
shall not see my face for a long space.' Hs
went to Glasgow to bis father and hired avesMl,
and kept it in resdinev as if be really meant to

ISl

,v Google

114.

mSTORV OF ENGLAND.

[Civil

dMil

ubaoond. Heui'e atso lie wrute a letter to the
queen, Htatmg grievances whiuh he would Dot
meutiou before; aud yet in those grievances there
ia HI) mention ol Bothwell, or hint of any Jea-
lousy on his account. Daruley compliiined, flrat.
that the queeu did not trust him with so much
authority, nor wa«atnuch pains to advance him.
and to make him bu honoured by the nation, as
formerly; aecoudly, that nobody attended him.
and the nobility avoided his company. To these
avowed grievouceB Mary replied that she had
(."onferred ao much hoooiir on him bb had ren-
dered hereelf very uneasy ; and that he had
abused her favours by patronizing a conspi-
racy against her; but, DOtwithstandiog this, she
had continued to show him such respect that,
though those who entered her chamber with him
and murdered her faithful servant, had named
him as their chief, yet she had never accused
liim thereof, but excused him, as if she had not
believed the fact. (This [lassage proves, what
has scarcely ever been doubted, that Mary was
not deceived by Darnley's protestations of Inno-
cence, and that his share In the murder of Riezio
was a crime she could never forget or really tor-
give, however much she may have been dis-
posed, for the sake of a;)pearauces, to live on
friendly terms with her husbaud.) Thirdly, that
OS to his not being attended, the fault was his
own, as she had always offered hira her own ser-
vants, and could not compel the nobles to Wait
upon him since it ftaa his own deportment and
want of courtesy which drove them from him
This reply was drawn up by the piivy council ;
and a letter addressed to the Queeu-mother uf
Pnuice, declaring that Daruley had no ground of
complaint, but, on the contrary, the beat reason
tu lock upon himself as one of the moat fortunate
princes of Christendom— if he had only known
hia own happiness and made a prop>er use of hia
good fortune— was signed by Huntly, Argyle,
Moray, Athole, Caithness, Rothes, Secretary
Maitlaud, the Archbishop of St. Andrews, the
Bishops of Galloway, Rost, Orkney, aud Dunkeld.
And Jje Croc, the French ambassador, wrote at
this vety moment;— "Tt is in vain to imagine
that Daruley shall be able tu raise any disturb-
auce,for there is not one person in this kingdom
that regards him any further than aa agreeable
to the queen ; and I never saw her majesty so
much beloved, esUieiued, and honoured, or so
great harmony amongst all her subjects as at
present, by her own conduct ■"' During part of
theee transactions ButliwelT was not at court, aud
Daniley's petulance was not directed against Aim,
but against Moray aud Maitland, two men who
were seldom insulted with impunity, or disap*
|ioiated in carryinK any scheme they proposed— |

I men of consunuuatti craft, who could always turn
the fiercer villainies of others to their own pur-
I pose. Tn the uftemoou of the Gth of October,
Bothwell, ill dischai-f^ of his duties an warden
1 of the marches, left Edinburgh for the Borders,
, which were, as usual, tu a disturbed state. Ou
' the 6th of the same mouth Mary, according to a
j purpose declared many weeks before, went to
Jedburgh to hold Justice Ayres, or to superin-
I tend the proceedings of the circuit courts, a com-
mon practice, at the regular seasons, with Scot-
tiah sovereigns. On the same day that Mary set
out for the Borders, Bothwell was wounded at
Hermitage Castle by an outlaw of those parts
named Eliott of Park, whom he had attempted to
make prisoner with his own hand. The news of
this affray reached Mary at Jedburgh, where she
was attended by most of her officers of state.
It has been stated by an elegant, but not very
correct historian, that she instantly flew ou the
wings of love tu Bothwell;' hut it is proved by
the most authentic documents that she did nut
quit her duties and engagements at Jedburgh
until eight days had elapsed. This materially
changes the aspect of the story. " A journey
undertaken," says Walter Scott, " after such an
interval, has not the appearance of being per-
formed at the impulse of passion, but seems rather
to have Bowed from some poUtical motive ; and
the queen's readiness to take arms in person,
both previously to the battle of Corriehie and
at the Round-about Raid, may account for her
dauntlessly approaching a disturbed district in
ber dominions without supposing her to be act-
ing upon the impulse of a guilty passion, or even
an iuordiaate favour for her wounded officer."'
On the 16th of October Mary rode on horseback
from Jedbui^h to Hermitage Castle, to vi'iit
the wounded Bothwell. The distAlice between
the two places was about twenty English miles ;
hut she rode back to Jedburgh ou the same day,
not stoj^ing to sleep at Hermitage, which was
Asr castle and not Bothwell's, Histonaus in
geuerai are not good horsemen : they have con-
sidered this journey as something much more re-
markable than it really was in a spirited, active
woman of four-and-tweuty, who was a most ex-
cellent horsewoman, and they have fancied that
no motive abort uf an amorous one could possibly
make the queen ride forty statute miles in one
day! But Mary was likely to ride forty miles
in a long autumn day for mere pastime, and in
the present case there was a sufficiently strong
motive in her desire to investigate the cause of
an outrage committed on one who, by right of
office, represented her royal authority, and who,
in her eyes, even without love, may have ^p-
peared as an active aud deserving lieutenant.

• Holn-rtiuii, «.4t. Si-M. ' '"^rtui. oivT

»Google

^.r. 15CG-l.-,ii7 j EUZA

Uot, aRMD, if Uie journey had heeo so terrible
sihI Mm7 ao lost to shuiue as they represented,
she iroald ecarcelj hare be«a at the trouble of
riding back to Jedbnrgh before nigbtset in. Tit
the enfeehleil stAte of lier health the long ride
did, howerer, prove snoiewhat aerioux, for, on
ifae foUoiHQg dav, the ITth of October, the queen
vaa seized with ii duigerouH fever, which, in
ronjunctiou with uaeaainess of mind, caused
partly bj her hnsbend, and her apprehension
of aome freeh conspiracy*, or of some murder
like tbnt ot Rizzio, brought her alranst to the
point of death, and kept her during ten nhole
dara in a very doubtful state. Intelligence of
the qae«-n's ilhiesa was aent immeiliatciv to i
Damley, who was thin nu
farther off than Glatigon^,
and who showed great in-
difference on the receipt of
it. The French ambaaaa-
■lor and the Bishop of Boa"
both wrote to Paris, relttt-
ing the dangerous state of
the (lueen, and complain-
ing of her husband's re-
i;lect Diimley at last took
(be road to Jedburgh, but
be ili^l not arrive there
till the SSth of October.
The queen, now ronva-
leswnt, retreiveil him but
iNTollv, and the very next
ilay he left her ngain. It
■Jionld appear, however,
that Damlej stood in drea<1
!•! Moray and Maitlanif.
who were almost constant- i?r.mi:

1v with his wife, and wh<i

liad taken meMnres daring her illiieas to ex- i
elude him and hiH father fruni all sliai-e in the |
government in case the disease sliould prove mor- I
tn\.' On the 9tfi of November Mary, having '
tinished the businem of the Ayre.s, left Jedbnrgli |
for Kelso, where she held s couucil on the fnl- \
lowing day. "She then retume<l by the Merse, '
and being desirous to see Berwick afar otF, nhe |
nsoeoded Halidou Hill, being well escorted by '
troops of Borderers on horseback. The English
;;.irri^4(>n of Berwick honoureil her with many
nhots of artillery; and Sir John Fi.>rstcr,one of the
wardens of the English border, came with other
officers out of Berwick, and conferred with her '
mijesty as U> the keeping of good order in those '

BKTH. I t->

wild district^.' Melville, who was of the party,
adds, " The king followed her about where she
rode, getting no good countenance, and therefore
he passed to Glasgow, where he fell sick for dis-
pleasure, as was alleged, not without some limit
of an ill drink by some of his servants.'* Bnt,
according to all other u<voiint«, Dnmley had
gone straight to Glasgow after his short visit to
the qneen at Jedburgh. On the 19th of No-
vember Mary proceeded to Tantallon Castle, and
thence, on the following dny, to Craigmillar.
Here, according to Le Croc, the French ambas-
sador, she was sick and melancholy, and in the
hands of the physician. About a week after her
arrival nt ri-aigniillnr, Piivnley, whose conduct

wmA aiKfthsr ilvk plot iti fiwt. (ind that tbe Eatlj
Botfavall ud HoB-tir sntorpriHd tha >UiighMr uI the Eu]
jlor^t. bnt the l^ni IIonH fWDe ilitn with forca uid pr»

can be rcdiiceil to no rational rule, cnme to visit
her, and remained n week! Tlie queen was at-
tended by nearly her whole court. Moray was
there, and so also were Argyle, Iluiitly, Both-
well, and Maitland. In the beginning of L>e-
ivmber Maitland and Moray, after conferring
with Argyle, Ilinitly, and Bothwell, resolved
that the queen should lie divorced from her un-
suitable husband. It appears that all these lordn
were perfectly agreed as to this plan, hut thai
Tifoniy kept in the back ground, leaving the
[irincipal manngement of the affair to the adroit
and eloquent Miiitland, who liore a personal and
bitter hstreil to Daniley. But when the plan
was laid before the queen, she rejected it without
hesitation, saying that snch a measure conid not
l.e adopted without throwing discredit on her
own charai'ter and doubts on the legitimacy of
her child; nor conld the eloquence of Maitland
and the eamestnetw of Bothwell overcome tliii-

' U^iiBi.

,v Google

116

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[C.V

. AKD MtLITABr.

repugnance— a atriking proof th&t up to this
time at least, she was chuy of her reputation,
and aniiouB to pi'eserve it even at the cost of
gre»t Bufferiug.

A few days after this debnte, the queeii was
at Stirling for the baptism of her child. There,
as we have related, she pardoned the daric-souled
Morton and his confederates ; and then it wsa
that Bothwell, Maitlaiid, itnd Morton met at
Whittingham, where it ia Huppoaed, and, in fact,
almost proved, that theg concerted the murder of
Damley, who, after the ceremooies at Stirling,
in which he did not partake, had again retired,
aa we have seen, to Glaagow. This doomed man
could know uothinfrof the secret meeting between
Bothwell, M&itlaniJ, and Morton ; but he well
knew that the returned exiles were athirst for
vengeance against him. lie reached Glasgow;
but a frightful disease — the aniaU-poi — was there
before him, and he caught the infection imme-
diately. When iuformed of his malady, the
queen sent him her own physician.' Wlien her
own life wna in danger at Jedburgh Darnley
had shown no aolicitude. She did not go to
Glasgow herself, but the historiana who ceusure
her on this account seem to forget that ahe hiul
an infant (o attend to, and that the disease waa
iu the highest degree contngioua. The queen
set out from Stirling with the young prince fur
Bdinburgb, where aha arrived on the Hth of
January, 1567. Tlie capital rung with different
rumours, some of whidi reached her ears, and
gave her great uneasiness. It was said, for ex-
ample, that Darnley intended to crown his infant
aon, and to take the government on himaelf.
But by another rej>ort, which aeems to have been
equally prevalent, Damley was to be put in ward,
tai he could not bear some of the nobles who at-
tended the court, ao that he or they must leave
it. Other reports, however, had spread on the
Continent, and Mary's ambassador at Paris in-
formed her that the Spanish ambassador had
desired him to warn her of some aecret plot
which was ready to be made at Edinburgh, and
conjured her to double her guards. Yet, after
writing to her ambaflsador in Frjiiice, that she
knew from good authority, that the king, lii
father and adherents, were talking and thinking
of doing her some injury, only that their power
was not equal to their will, Mary ra>nsented to a

The Eirl of Bedtlird, wha npa mlmiat oil tha ipot. wa*B la C«it
en tha Mil otJsnuirj:— "Tbekiiig li now utlliaf[dw with his
lAttuii,. (lid then lieth full of tha mullpokH. lo whom th*
quean h»lh leiit herphytidan."— OTigtnmlLaMetlnHlnlBPBlitpr
UlHoe, qnoted by Ksilh nud QuUdwix.

frebh reconciliation, which is said to have been
brought about by her physician, who had at-
tended Damley, and seen him out of danger-,
and then aet out for Glasgow, where she urivej

th of January. Her interview with her
husband is described as having been frieLdly, if
not affectionate, and, aa he was oaitvalescent, h«
agreed to accompany her Itack to Edinburgh iu

E of a few days. On the BSth of Jan-
uary they left Glasgow together, Mary travel-
ling, as uaual, on horseback; Damley, on account
of his weakness, being carried in a kind (rf litter.
They rested for nearly two days at linlithgaw
the pleaaantest palace iu Scotland— and tbej
reacjied the capital on the last day of Jauuai^'.
The king's infectious illness was assigned as su
imperative reason for lodging him out of tJie clow
and crowded palace of Holyrood, where hie wife
and his child resided. A lonely house called the
Kirk-a-Field, situated near where the Coll^ iif
Edinburgh now stands, but which was then in thf
auburba of the town, had been chosen for him bv
the queen'a physician, who is siud t« have pre-
fen'ed it on accountuf its open airy situation, and
U> have fitted it up for the king's reception. Thin
house belonged to one Robert Balfour, the proTosl
of the collegiate church af St. Mmy. Here <h-
queen visited him daily, and Beversl times slept iu
achamber under that of the kiug. "But many,''
sayn Melville, " suspected that the Earl of Both-
well had Borne enterprise against him (Darnley).'
Upon the fatal day, Moray, who, be it obsei-vBd,
invariably managed to be out of the wny nhen
anything doubtful and dangerous was to be done,
absented himself from the court under pretence
that hia wife had fallen sick iu the country. This
opportune abaence is certain, and if we are to
believe more questionable authority— the lealous
advocates of the queen — Moray, upon his jour-
ney, speaking of Darnley'a behaviour, totd u per-
son in whom he reposed his chief confidence, thkt
the king would not live to see another day.'
This same evening the queen, with several of the
nobles, spent with her huabaiid, whom she ouly left
at eleven o'clock at night, in order to be present
at an entertainment in Holyroodhouse, which
was given on occasion of the marriage of Selas-
tian Auvergoac,oueiil heraervants. About tlirei;
hours lifter her departure, at two o'clock iu tlic
morning of the 10th February, the ancient paino;
and the city were shaken by a violent exj^losioii ;
and when people went forth to see, they found
the house of Kirk-a-Fteld utterly destroyed, snil
the bodies of Damley and hia valet' lying iu thi.'
gaj-ilen without any marks of violence on their
persons. The body of Darniey was carried to ii
house close at hand, was laid within a chamber,
and kept by one Sandy (or Alexander) Druwrn ;
I - DMioi) Laler'a &-/-un a/ tin Qfrx o/Srai.

»Google

AD. 1566-1567] ELIZA

but, &dda Melville, " I could not get the sight of
him.' When Melville vent tothe palace he found
her m>j«Bty kept her chamber. He mjs, " I
came to the ch&mber-door the neit muming

r the Kirk-i Fiald.— From

After the raurdei-. The Earl Bothwelt aajil that
her majesty was sorrowful and quiet; for he
came forth and told me he saw the atraugest
accident that ever chanced^to wit, the thunder
cnjue out of the Itift (sky) and had burnt the
kitif^B house, and himself found lying dead a little
diatance from the house under a tree, and willed
me to go up and see him, how that there was not
& hurt nor a mark in all his body." '

Never was an atrocious murder more clumsily
exe<:uted. The elements had been qniet that
night, and even an ignorant eye could detect the
effects of a mine of gunpowder. Suspicion im-
mediately fell npon Bothwell, but not so imme-
diately either upon the queen or upon Morton
and Maitlaud, and the others who were after-
words proved to have been accessories and in
part active participants in the deed with Both-
well. Some light will be thrown on the horrid
mystery by oar narration of succeeding events,
aud the reader will weigh the preceding facts,
which we have endeavoured to state clearly and
without bias. In truth, our own mind is not
made up as to the long and hotly debated que&-
ti'in of the queen's innocence or guilt in regard
Ui her hual)and'B murder. Notwithstanding the

BETH. 117

popular accusation of Bothwell, as being the chief
murderer. Secretary Maitland, Morton, Huntly,
Argyle, in fact all her ministers, and nearly every
person that approached her, not excepting even
her brother Moray, continued their
close friendship with that desperate
man, and joined together in maintain-
itig his innocence. But several of
them could not admit his guilt with-
out proclaiming their own. There is,
at least, a doubt in favour of the queen
— perhaps even in favour of Moray —
bnt there is none as to the rest having
taken part, more or leas actively, in the
murder. These very men, however,
acting aa the queen's ministers, issued
a proclamation on the ISth of Febru-
ary, offering a rewanl of SOOO pounds
for the discovery of the murderers.
On the 16tb pf the same month pla-
cards were set up in the public places
of Edinburgh, designating the Earl of
Bothwell and three of his servante as
iis7j. the murderers. At this moment Mary

was plunged in grief and dismay; and
the same ministers— the allies of Bothwell—
offered a fresh reward for the discovery of the
author of the placards. No person, either of
high or low degree, had courage to come forward
in the face of the government. But, in the
dead of night, fierce voices were heard in the
streets of Edinburgh, charging Bothwell as a
principal, and the queen as au accomplice.
Other persons, however, were named in the Ijlte
maimer; and no one pressed any specific charge,
till Damley's father, the Earl of Lennox, at the
beginning of the mouth of March, sent from
Glasgow, where he was collecting his friends.
to request the queen that such persons as were
named in the placards should be arrested. He
was answered, tliat if he, or any, would stand to
the accusation of any of the persons so named,
it should be done ; but not by virtue of the
placards or at his request. This information wp
derive from Henry Killigrew, whom Elizabeth
had sent down ostensibly to condole with Mary,
and who, on the very day of his writing (the 8th
of March), had dined with Moray, Huntly (then
chancellor), the Earl of Argyle, Lord Bothwell,
and Secretary Miutlaud — the whole party being
still bosom friends.' On the 17th of March the

point i> «1U 1 tajtiai.

l«y«ukiU»). Aovrd-

bshonHibntthUHniu

ha wu stiKlutalT cnud. he ODuld nerer Cudt thit the peoplu

bf hondndi; Uwt tilt

would belJsxi Uiit Uie lightning had Oiit arrted Dunlsr out

«ilhurt. AcooTding to

hi> Iwl, ud thB houK

tbs tm, und hAd thai nduoKl ll» boaw to ■ Iwp o( ruiu.

;biitif».wl.TW«tbe

iHHt n»l<r . tna tn ■

' LvtMr from RilU«nw to CceU. •■ gi'an br Chilmen. Th«

»Google

118

nrSTOKY OF ENGLAND.

rciT

Carl o( Lennox maile a more formal
of Bqthwell and others.' On the 21st Bothwell
wi*8 allowed by Mary and her miniBtera to get
iuto hU own hand:) the strong ciutle of Edin-
burgh. On the 2Hth of the same month an order
was issued by tlic privy council for Bothwell'
trial to take pliwe ou the 12th of April. Lennox,
n-lio is more than suspected of having had a. prin-
ciyaX share in the murder of Ki^zio, and in other
distionourable plots, complained of violence and
injustice ; and he wrote not only to Mary, but
Queen Eliznbeth, to obtain a poatponement of the
trial, stating, with some reason, that the time
was too nhort to allow him to collect his wit<
nessea.and that lie could not aafely present him-
self where the murderera of liis non were not only
nt large but in possession of power and favour.'
But it was determined, in apite of this remoii-
Btrance, that the court of juaticiary should pro-
ceed to trial ou the day fixed. Lennox then ad-
vanced from Glasgow to Stirling, on his way to
Edinburgh ; but here his feam overcame him—
he wrote hid excuses — and then fled with all hoate
into England, where be was kjndly received by
Elir(d>etfi. On the 9th of April, before the trial
cameou, Moray, having with great difficulty ob-
tained the queen'H jierraisaion, .<et out from Edin-
burgh for France. He took his journey Lbrougli
EngUnd, where he also was well received; And lio
took care not to return until (he course of events
left all but the throne open to his ambition: iud
yet his absence could hardly exonerate him from
"tiHpicion of treaclierous dealing ; for the '■un-
ning UaitUncI was his sworn ally and coadjutor;
and be,, and others equally devoted to the earl.
remained quietly at thcii poets till the vessel of
the rtate wab fairly driven upon the rocks. On
the appointed day, when the justiciary court
opened, Bothwell appeared at the bar, lupportej
on tht omkand bg MitUland, on the other bg Mor-
ton. No evidence was produced—no prosecutor
appeared — and Botliwell was necesearily acquit-
ted; though, by this time, there was scarcely a
man ui the kingdom but felt .iwured of kii guilt.
On the 14th of April, two days after this acquit-
tal, a parliament assembled in a regular tDanner
at Edinburgh. It wa;. opened bv the queen'H

1 muMutnlal wllli Utrj. bu tli> t;n|

Id notHTlTeat Uoljrnail UU ibg rrrj moniinj

Pnnn Ih* Mth «f Mui^ to the isih of A|

B ityt. » tut. u ■ tinsd Jmnwy (rum B

aaDtll]ff«ide4, tha EoflliBh qu«n hjut

nM fan illuwed fcr th* num. withoal
>lUii(wllh taerminiitnmmllowbicfor

t on the leth her majesty ap-
peared in fienou, Bothwell carrying the seeptr^
before her. The psj'liamcnt cooGrraed to the
murderer all the estates and honoura be had re-
cently received, and at the same time all their
estates and honours to the nobles who had acted
with him or were willing to aid him in his am-
bitious designs. Old forfeitures were reversed,
new grants wero made, every man looking eagerly
for a share in the queen's liberality. An allu-
sion was boldly made to the late charges against
Bothwell, and accusations by placards or h\\\*
stuck up secretly in the streets were prohibited.
No Scottish parliament at this time could over-
look tbe great question of religiou, The present
drew up A bill for tbe reiiouncing of all foreign
jurisdiction in ecclesiaEtical aSiure, and for con-
firming and ratifying vhe Protestant doctrines
and church government ; and the queen readilv
>yal assent to this bill, which be-
stowed a constitutional sanction upon the Bc-
foriued church, and proclaimed a total renuncia-
tion of.the authority of Rome. Bothwell was
indefatigable in this parliament, evidently hoping
to conciliate the preachers. DLiring the sittiuR
of the jiarliament reports got abroad of an in-
tended marriage between the queen and Bothwell.
" The bruit began to rise," says Melville, "that
the queen would marry the Earl Botliwell, who
hail, six months before, nuu-ried the Earl of
Huntlj'a sister, and would part with bis own
Whereat every good subject that loved the
s honour and tlie prince's surety had sore
hearts, and thought her majesty would he dis-
honoured and the prince in danger to be cut off
by him that had slain his father; but few or
none durst speak in the contrary. Yet my Lord
Herrie?, a worthy nobleman, came to Edinbur^
well accompauied, and told her majesty what
bruits were passing through tbe country, of the
Earl Bothwell murdering of the king, and liow
that she was to marry liira; requesting her ma-
jesty, most humbly upon hia knees, to remembei-
upou her honour and dignity,and upon the surety
of the prince, which would all be in danger of
tiucell (destruction) in case she married the
said earl; with many other great persuasions to
eschew such utter wrack and incouvenienlti Kt
that would bring on. Her majesty marvelled at
such bruits without purpose, and said that there
J such thing in her mind."
lome remarkable details in Melville's ile-
are honestly and correctly given —and onr
own impression is that they are so in the main -
Mary was evidently nt this mOinent coerced by
the rnfSanly audacity of Bothwell, who wan atill
in t'lmte alliance with Maitland and all her min-
isters, and permitted by them to menace her true
friends in her own palaro. Immediately after

»Google

AH 1566—1587.] ELIZ/"

the riaing of parliament, Buthwcll invited the
leading niemberB of that body, lay and ecclesiaa-
lie, to an entertainnient in an Edinburgh tavern,'
and declared to them his purpose of marrying
the queen. Hereupon he drew out a bond from
hia pocket, wherein, after n full recoguition of
Ilia innocence of the late king's murder, he (Botli-
weL). was warmly recommeuded as a suitable
match to her majesty in case she should conde-
scend to marry with a subject; and the bond fur-
ther stated that the subscribera thereto pledged
ihemaelves to advance the said marriage at the
risk of life and goodi. Voluntnrity, or through
fe:ar, eight bishops, nine earla, and seven lords
subscribed the paper, which Bothwell then re-
tumedtohiH pocket. Maitland and the ex-Chan-
cellor Mort^in countenanced and supported him; I
they put their signatures to the bond; and with j
them signed Argyle,Ituthes,
anil Boyd, who were all
nwuru allies of the Barl of
Moray, and who had join-
ed in bb rebellion on the
queen's marriage with Dani-
ley. Amongthe other names
appears even that of Lord
H erries, for all the part he
had taken, according t« Mtl-
ville, only a few days before.
Fburdsyn after the signing
of thia bond Bothwell col-
lected about 1000 horse, un-
•ier pretext of Border sei--
vice, and lay in wait for the
t|ueen,who was then return-
ing from Stirling Caatle,
whither she had been to

vint her infant son. At th« d,

Koulbrigs, between Linlith-

'•om and Edinburgh, Bothwell rode up to lier, ttiiU
look her majesty's horae by the bridle. His men [
twk the Earl of Huntly, the Secretary Lething-
lon, and Melville, and letting all the rest go free, i
orried them with the queen as captives to the
■tfroDg castle of Dunbar. Huntly (though bro-
ther to Botbwell's wife) and Maitland were cer-
ubly williug priaoners — wete plotters in the
■Urk buaioessi but after all that has iseeu said
and written, there is some doubt whether the
i|neen were not taken by surprise and force; and
this is the point moat decisive of Mary's charac-
ItT, far more so than the subsequent act of mar-
riage with Bothwell. It she went knowingly
Mid willingly, she loaded hereelf with a crushing
weight of guilt and folly; but if she were carried
iiMAj by violence, the marriage would appear, in

' Tb« ^MH* WA« k*pt b; ofw AiimlLa. Hmo tha (kmom
"uiKIkia wa* cmUnl " AiiaUt't SoKor.'— m nana which wu
^fUrwird* anfdiad to tb* IxRiia n tanrn itialf.

BETH. 1 1!)

I the eyes of moat women of thai time, as the only
I means of covering her honour. Melville, who
I was, as we hiive seen, with the ([Ueen when she
was taken, is nut very clear on this point; he Bays,
however, that Bothwell, after taking the queen's
bridle, "boasted to marry the queen, who would
or who would not; yea, whether she would her-
self or not." But he addB^"Captain Blaiketer
(or Blackadder), that was my taker, alleged that
it was with the queen's own consent." Yet here,
it should be observed, that Blackadder, as an
officer or servant of Bothwell — as a person ac-
tively engaged iu the transaction-- would natur-
ally make such an assertion; for if it was against
the queen's consent, the act was uothing less than
treason in all concerned. On the following day
Melville was let out of Dunbar Castle, and per-
mitted to pass home. But Bothwell kept the

queen five days in thut foi-tress, diu-ing wliich
none of her subjects made suy efforts for her re-
lease— a remarkable fact, susceptible of at least
two interpretations : either they lielieved that
she was there willingly; or they wished to see
her utterly defamed and ruined by a marriage
with Bothwell. The most active of the nobles
had conspired to bring this about: Maitlanil,
who remained with her in the castle, continued
to urge lier to this step. Mary afterwards com-
plained that, while under this thraldom, not a
sword was drawn tor her relief; but after their
marriage a thousand swords flew from their scab-

»Google

120

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ.

.AND Miutabt.

bardB to drive Bothvell from the constrj Aud
lieraelf ftwn her throne. On the 29th of April
the daring nuui brought the queen bacL to Edin-
burgh Castle, and plnced her in seeming liber-
ty, but she was in fact still in a snare, entirelj sur-
rounded by crafty snd remorseless men. "Af-
terwards," says Mel rille, " the court came to Ed-
inburgh, and there a namber of noblemen were
drawn together in n chamber within the palace,
where they subscribed, all, that the marriage
between the qneen and the Earl Bothwell waa
very meet, he beiuR well friended in Lothiaos
and upon the Borders, to cause good rale 1« be
kept; and then the queen could not but marry
him, seeing he had rariahed ber and lain with
her against her will. I cannot tell how nor by
what law be parted with his own wife, sister to
the Earl of Huntlf." This hurried parting with
hia wife wBBone of the most revolting features of
Both well's conduct ; and yet, in this respect, he
^7as scarcely more infamous than his high-bom
wife herself, or her brother the Earl of Huntly,
chancellor of the kingdom and guardian of the
purity of the laws ! He commenced a process iu
the consistory court of the Fopisli Archbishop of
St. Andrews for a. divorce, on the plea of consan-
guinity; and his wife, in collusion with him, sued
ber hnsband in the Protestant court of commis-
saries of Eklinburgh for a divorce, od a charge of
adultery. She had been previously gratified by
Bothwell with a grant for life of the lands and
town of Nrther Hailes in Haddingtonahire; and
Runtly, her brether, continued in the chMcat in-
timacy with Bothwell, and was even present at
his marriage with the queen. Both the ecclesi-
astical courta proceeded with as much speed as
Bothwell could have required, and on difierent
grounds paaaed sentence of divorce. A few days
after, the queen appeared in the court of Besaion,
and there declared before the chancellor, the
judges, and several of the nobility, that though
she had been earned off and detained against her
will in Ouubar, and greatly injured by the Earl
of Bothwell, yet coDsidering his former great
services, and all that might be hereafter expected
from his bravery and ability, she was disposed
not only to forgive him, but also to exalt him to
higher honours. Bothwell, of course, hod made
the best use of his bond signed by the bishops,
und earls, and lords at "Aiuslie's Supper;" and
it is generally admitted that this document had
great weight with Mary, who, it should appear,
did not see it until she was at Dunbar. And
now the Mid great lords, spiritual and temporal,
who had signed the deed, got from the qneen a
written BMurance that neither they nor their des-
cendants should ever be accused on that account.'
Itesolving to have liis new mairiage performed

in a strictly Protestant aud Presbyterian manner,
Bothwell commanded that the banns should be
published in the regular parish church at Edin-
burgh. John Knox was then absent, hut hia
place waa supplied by hia friend and colleague
Craig, whOj after aome hesitation, published the
banns aa required, and then protested frmn the
pulpit that he abhorred and detealed the in-
tended marriage as unlawful and scandalooa, aud
solemnly charged the nobility to use their influ-
ence to prevent the queen from taking a step
which would cover her with infamy. But the
nobles were far indeed from any disposition to
make efforts in this way, the influence of the
greater part of them being engaged to promote
Lhe match, and no complaint on their part being
made against it until it wss completed, and the
queen irretrievably lost Bothwell was now
created Duke of Orkney ; and on the 15th of
May, only eight days after the dissolution of his
former marriage, he waa united to the queen.
"The marriage," aaya Melville, " waa made in the
palace of Eolyroodhouse, after a preaching by
Adam Bodewell (or Bothwell), Bishop of Orkney,
in the great hall where the council uses to ait,
according to the order of the Reformed religion,
and not in the chapel of the mass, aa was the
kin^a marriage." On the same day, however, the
ceremony was also performed iu private accord-
ing to the Catholic forma. At the public cele-
bration there was a great attendance of nobles.
A Few days after, Le Croc,the French ambsaaador,
represents Mary aa being in the extremity of gidef
and deapair, "On Thursday the qneen aent for
me, when I [wrceived somethiug strunge in the
mutual behaviour of her aud her huabaud. She
attempted to excuse it, and said, ' If you aee me
melancholy, it is because I do not choose to be
cheerful — becauae I never will be so, and wish for
Dothing but death,"' This does not look like an
amorous bride who had eagerly thrown herself
into the arms of her lover. Envoys were sent to
England and to France to communicate the queen's
marriage, and to counteract the rumours which
were afloat. Elizabeth, who had certainly been
warned beforehand by Morton and Maitknd-
the very men who were moat active iu bringing
about the match — now prepared to lend her as-
aiatance to them in taking up arms against the
queen. Jlorton, as hss been observed, wss aware
that, by ruining Mary, he should gratify Elixa-
beth, aud raise his own party to the management
of affairs; and, after the lapse of n few short yeara,
when Moray, who was the first to atep to greatneaa
by Mary'a fall, was lud in a bloody grave, we
shall aee this same Morton, one of the murderers
of Rizuo aa of Damley, made Regent of Scot-
land, under the protection of the English queen.

,v Google

CHAPTER XVI.~CIVIL A.ND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1567~15i

ELIZABETH.

Tbe ScDtlisli iioblM JiKOiitaatcJ with their queeu's iuBiTi»KB— TLey attampt to seite lier acil BotLwnll -The
qawD aTid Butbwell escape— Tlig; raiie mi aruij agtunat the co;ife(ientcd nublsB — Botliwell'a idle challenge
It Csrberry Hill— He rB^irej from the field— Marj gmrenderi to the lorde— Her trottmeut on beiug brought
to Ediabiuigh— She ia neat pritaiier to Lochleven— Bothwell's escape from Scatland— HU miienble ead — Pro-
caedizi^agaiiiat Half — Siie ia com pel lad to ahdicale in favour oE har»D-~Tha Earl of Moray appoiated reeent
— nil interview tvitb Mary at IdchleTau— Earl of Morton's profitable promotiona— Miry eacapes fruiu Loch-
leren — Raise* aa army— lie defeat at Langiide— Mary's flight into England — abe is treated as a prisoner—
lUiiabcth rcfUKu no interview until Mary liae proved ber iaaoceace iu Dunley's murder— Mary's iugntiatiii};
behaiiour t.i liei kBcpers— Ebiabeth'siulriguea to weaken tha oauno of Mary— Mary's impmdeiil avowali— ate
II muoved tn a marc tacurs coofinement — Mary writa to Elizalietb— She conBants Iu a trial about the murder
^ber Ikuaband— Heetiuu of commiuiou for that purpose at Yorli- tart of Moray's conduct on the trial—
I'roofi aililacad ol Mary's complicity in tbe murdar of Uarnley- Answers of Mary's cominiiiuonar;i—UaitlaDd
intrigue* with tbe Uuke of Xurfolk in behalf of Maiy- Earlof Moray's additional charges RKaiast Mary-
He produces llie silver casket and its contente— Authenticity of ber letter* denied— Eliabeth's equivocal
serdict et the clou of the trial— Her partial bahavlour to tlie Karl of Moray — Mary removad to Tulbury
Caa;le.

S aoop a^ the queen's lionour wa?
iiisepanilily connected with Both-
well, then Morton, Maitland, and
the i-est liegan to talk agniiist the
luikiriage, to revire the mournful
J fiite oF Daruley, und to iiitimate
that Bothwell wiw giiilty ot that murder. At
lirst, nil this was said caiilioiisly aud Hecretly; but
as eooii an tbey had wen th^ efTecta of snoh dis-
eourseii, and tiie great force they could rely upon,
they openly declared [hemnelves; aud three weeka
idler the m.irriage tiley ftew to flnuH, o^tenajbiy
ouly to piiaiah their colleagtie aud brother ne-
iKuaiii, Bothwell, to Recure the persoD of tlie
young prince, nnJ to liberate th« qtteeu from the
i-ontrol of her husband. Tbe coufedemcy of the
lords wna, in fact, explicitly declarett to be fur
the protection of the queen aiid her sou againat
the guilty Bothwell ; but they had already deter^
mined to dethrone Mary, aud crown the iiifaut
Jaraea. Ou the 6tb of Jnuf, before any declara-
tion troM roaiie, they attempted to seize tb« queen
nod Bothwell iu Borthwick Ca-itle, about eight
uileaHnnth-eaalof Ediuburtjh; but the earl easily
«^<caped, and after him the queen, drsgiiised in
male attire, rode without atopping, ori a common
saddle, to the caatle of Uunbar. Tlio coafederat«s
counter-marched upon Edinburgh, where the
populace joined them. It Iran atill rejwrted that
the life of Prince Jamea was iu dauget, though
tbe Earl of Mar, who had joined the confetleraey,
had him in perfect safety in Stirliltg Qistle. The
oonfederat«a assumed the power of goyemment,
issuing proclamations, as if the qnoen bad been
already dethroned. They called upon all the
queen's people to join their standard under pain
Yot. II.

ot being deemed niiu-derefs of tliu late king; and
iu order to move men's heails, they circulated
printed papers, detailiug the atrocities of Both-
well. Still, however, with the txcejition of the
lower orders, few flocked to their standard ; aud
at tliis moment the corporation of Edinbui^h
sent a cleputatioo to Mury, to excuse the city for
admitting the confederated nobles. Tlie queen,
ill the mean.vhile, aummoued hei faithful sub-
jt!cta iu the adjoining counties; and, by the end
of two days, 2000 fightitig men from the Lytbians
aud the Merse gathered round her standard at
DuuUir. Here ahe ought to havt remained — for
the castle va^ iilmoet impregnable, the iK)nfede-
rates had little ur no artillery, and their force
waa not increasing so tnpidly aa her own. But
the queen, who was always bold and decisive in
the face of such dan^eta.aa. these, and who could
ugt have forgotten haw the lords fled before her
iu the Bound- about llaid, niarche<l out of Dunbar
towania Edinburgh ou the 14th of .lune. She
halted at Gladsmulr, where alie uiused a procla-
uiation to be rea<l to her little army, exposing
the profesBiourt of the iusurgeuts, declaring that
Ijei' late marri^e with Bothwell had been con-
tracted and solemnized with the couseut aud at
tlie persuasian of the chiefs ofi the iusurcection,
a.<) their own hand-writings testified, and affirm-
ing that, though tbey a&cted ta feat for tlii;
safety of her sou {ichoieia in lAeir ovm pMteitioH)t
yet they ouly aimed at ovarthrowibg herand her
posterity, in urder that they themselves might
enjoy the ai^reme power. That night she lay
at Seton. On the following morning, Sunday,
the 15th of June, exactly one month after her
marriage, she advauced to Carberry Hill, and

»Google

122

iriSTORY OF ENGLAND

[C.v

0 M ILITABY

there Jrew up In onltr vt lmttle---for the insur-
gents had fuivsnced from Edinburgh to meet Iier,
and efood in battle nimj in two divisions, the
one commnnded bj the Earl of Morton, the other
by the Eurl of Athole. While the two ai-mieg
Btood tlina in presence of each other, the aged
Le Croc Bdvanced to the inBurgents, and endea-
voured to effect a peaceful itccommodation. The
Earl of Morton maiie answer that they had taken
arme cot against the queen, but against the mur-
derer of the king; that if alie would deliver up
Bothwelj, or put him from her company, they
would return to their obedience, but thjit, other-
wise, they would make n day (if it. And then
the Earl of Glencaim told the French ambagaador
that they were not come to that field to ask par-
don for what they had done, but rather to give
pardon to those who hod sinned. While thia
lengthened conference lasted, Bothwell sent a
herald ofTering to prove his inuocence by the old
ordeal of single combat. Two of the inHurgents
miccemively accepted the challenge, but Both-
well objected to both as being of inferior rank.
According to one account', he now challenged, by
name, the Earl of Morton, who is said to have
accepted the challenge, and to have chosen the
weapons and the mode of fighting, which was to
be on foot, with two-handed aworde. These
two would have been fairly pitted, but neither
seema to have beeu willing to set liis life on such
a caat : and, in the end, there was no fight at all
between them. Lord Lindsay, it is said, offered
bimaelf in Morton's place. But Mary refused
her consent to this duel; and there were no doubt
many with her who were unwilling to atake their
cause on the uncertain issue of a single comhat.
It sliould appear that, during this idle bravado-
ing, the force of the confederates was increased
by arrivals from Edinburgh, which was only
about five miles in their rear, and that symptoms
of disafTection were observed among the queen's
troops. Tiie crisiH is described in very different
ways. Some say that Bothwell's heart failed
hin) — that, after demanding a promise of fidelity
from the queen, he niounte<l his horse and gat-
loped away for Dunbar Castle, leaving her to fall
into the hands of her enemies: and Camden adds,
that the nobles, with Morton, giLve him necret
notice to provide for himself by flight, lest, being
taken, be might impeach them of the part they
had had in the Damtey murder. According to
another account, the queen sent a herald to desire
that Kirkaldy of Orange, the best soldier of Scot-
land, and a man who retained some chivalrous
feelings, might wait upon her to settle terms of
accommodation. The lords consented, and gave
the Liurd of Orange full authority to treat with
Ihs queen. He propoae<1, it is nid, in their
nameo, that Bothwell tliould depart off the field

until the cause might be tried, and that the queen
should pass over to them, and use the counsels of
her nobles, who bound themselves thenceforward
to honour, serve, and obey her majesty. The
queen assented, and Grange thereupon took Both-
well by the hand, and desired him to depart,
promising that no one should oppose or follow
him; and thus Bothwell passed away with the
consent of the insurgent lords. Kirkaldy then
tAok the queen's bridle-rein, and led her down
the hill to the confederates. Morton waited upon
her to ratify the promises which had been made
to her on their Itehalf, and he assured her that
she should be more honoured and obeyed than
any of her progenitors had ever been. But as
Mary advanced into the lines all this homage
and respect vanished — tlie armed ranks closed
around her with menacing gestures and the
coarsest reproaches. The common soldiers and
the rabble from Edinburgh cried out that oke
ought to be burned as a Papist, a prostitute, and
murderess. They carried her on to Edinbui^b,
where she arrived at seven o'clock in the evening,
covered with tears and the dust of the roads, anil
in that state they led iier on horselmck thitnigli
the principal streets, some of the mob carrying
a white banner before her. whereon were rudely
painted a figure of her husband D.tmley lying
strangled under a tree, and a figure of Prince
James, his son, kneeling beside it, with a label
issuiug from his mouth with these words npon
it: — "Judge and avenge my cause, O Lord I"
They lodged her in the provost's house, which
WHsbesetthe whole night by tlie yelling populace.
When she arose in tlie morning, the first object
that met her eyes was the same dismal banner.
As soon as she was able, she sent Maitland to
request that the estates of the realm might be
summoned forthwith, as she was willing to sub-
mit to their determination — she being present
and heard in defence of her own cause. But it
<lid not suit Morton and his confederates to adopt
this legal course; and on the following evening
they hurried her under a strong guard to the
castle of Lochleveii, situated on an islet iu the
loch or lake which bears that name, in Kinross-
shire. This castle was chosen not only on account
of ita difficult situation, but because it was the
property and stronghold of Sir William Douglas,
a uterine brother of the Earl of Moray, and pt«-
sumpljve heir to Morton.' Mary was txeateii
with exceeatvc harshiiesB in this her first place ef
captivity; and the whole conduct of the con-
federate lords was contrary to the agreement
upon which the qneen placeil herself in their

I Hony '■ natiier. tha Ladr UufitM EnUna, iaw^Ur of
John. Srth Eul of Mu, *fl«nwda aui4ad Sir Bebwt Dnitlaa
at LoAlHM. utd hj lilm bBXDH tba nHnhar c< Hr WIlUui
Dnwlu. who «■• ■ wsr muiscUoa itf 1mm ttootlai^ Earl <i(

»Google

«.i). I5GT-1561)J ELIZ.4

liandaatCarbeiTy Hill. KLrkaldy of Grange was
incuiBed at their conduct, and upbraided them
vith having broken their word, and made liim,
in hoaonnble soldier, the means of deceiving the
iineen with lying promisea.

It was not long before Bothwell had fled the
Lingdom for ever. On the 26th of June there
na iseued an act of the privy council fur appre-
bending him, he being charged witik the murder
of Damlej, and with raTi^hing the queen's per-
mi and enforcing her to marry him (this was, in
a nuum«r, declaring the queen innocent) ; aud
tbey offered a reward of 1000 crowns to any one
ihat should bring the traitor and raviaher to
Edinburgh. If they had realty wished to have
Bothwell there, they would have puraued a very
diOerent courae, and left him much less time.
Some twenty days after the queen's imprisonment
ill LochleveD, Bothwell quietly retired by water

LocHLETEH Ciixni.—Vnm > driwin; hj Q.

from Dunbar Castle into Morayshiie, where he
stayed some time. Ue next sought shelter in his
dukedom of Orkney, but he was refused admit-
tance into his own castle there by his own keeper
or lieutenant. In his desperate fortunes he called
BroandbimsomeNortheni pirates, and threatened
to SCOOT the seas with a blood-red flag. The lords
then thought proper to despatch a sm:dl fleet after
hiib from Leith. If they had caught him, there
can be little doubt that they would have buried
Bithwell and his secrets in the ocean; but he

' It it genenll; bslitisd thst Bathnoll wu iltUiiiod hy Ihi
IlBjii^ gorenimflat In ohpiivltr tiU bedlodjn l!^Ta, in the culjs
of Hftlm^ in (hA protipoe ot Schneuvn, now & pAit of Sweden,
bvi vtaich iben bcJoogfld to (Il« kingdom of DODDurk. A fvw
jAji^o thuv *Aa diHorerfld, in tti« rojal IlbruTDftbocutlo
of DnnniBglwliu. in aw*di

mat ot bu lUcbt, which ippMH bj

BETH. 123

fled to the coast of Norway, where he w&s, after
a few months, taken by the Danish government,
who considered hiw as a pirate, and threw him
into the castle of MaJmii, where he is said to
have gone mad.' At the point of death, nearly
ten years after, he is said to have solemnly de-
clared, upon his oath, that he himself committed
the murder of Darnley by the ccuusels of Moray,
Morton, and others; but this poiiit, like most of
the rest, is involveil in doubt and obscurity, and
Bothwell's dying declaration, or testament, as it
was called, was purposely kepi out of sight by
Elizabeth, into whose hands it fell.

The confederate lords had pretended that they
only kept tlie queen in ward till the dangerous
Bothwell should be expelled the kingdom; and
Elizabeth, or Cecil for her, represented to foreign
courts that England would make efforts for
Mary's liberation as soon as Bothwell should be
out of the kingdom ; but,
when this expulsion hail
really been effected, the lord*
kept her in as close confine
ment as ever, and, changing
their tone altogether, they
declared that she should be
dethroned on account of
misgovei-umeut, and com-
pelled to resign her crown
to her infant son, or, in other
words,the entire govern ment
to her half-brother, Moray,
and his party. There was,
however, a strong party that
opposed this violent scheme,
thinking that they had gone
far enough already, and that
yio\. the queen might now be

safely tnisted with the go-
vernment. By the end of June, many of the
noblest families of Scotland, including the
Hamiltons, the Earl of Huntly, the gallant Lord
Herries, and others, began to devise measures
for her protection, aud insisted thnt she ought
to be restored to her liberty and her throne,
upon certain equitable conditions. But Mary's
enemies were more powei'ful than these friends,
and the townspeople very generally were set
against her, and induced by their preachers to
cry aloud, not merely for her dethronement, but

hUd by Ibo Buiiiatjiie Club (4(d, E
t. bowenr. being iDOnlj' BolhinU'i '
t, propnrad Appuvotly vttb the riei

»Google

^2i

HISTORY OF ENGI^NO.

[Civ

u MiuTARr.

Iior execution. On Uie Ifitli of Judp, the d«y
uftei Maiy'a jouniejr to Lochleven, the Earl of
Olencaim, witii his aervButa and others, went
into the queen's chapel nt Holyrood, broke down
the altar, and demolished the pictures, images,
•ind ornaments. The preachers higlily com-
mended this work ; but we are not informed
what they ssiid to another tranaactiou which took
place on the same day: for the insurgent nobles
seized all the queen's plate, jewels, and other
moveables, without anything like a le^^l autho-
rity. The confederates now sssumed the title of
the "Iiords of the Secret Council" — an appro-
printe name. 1^0 Earls of Athole, Mar, and
Glencaim, the Lords Rnthven, Hume, Semple,
Sanquhar, and Ochiltree, were members of this
council-, but the real leader was the Earl of Mor-
ton. Having let Bothwell escape — and it seems
tliat they were also glad to see Sebastian, the
[{tieen'a French servant, who was strongly sus-
pected, get safe oul of the kingdom^they seized
Captain Blackadder and a few very obscure per-
Hons. The captain waf condemned and executed
for Damley's niiirder; but at his death he would
no ways confess hiniHelf guilty. Four othera, by
onlers of the Lords of the Secret Council, were
ironed arvl tormtMtd, then tried niid executed ;
bnl the lords did not find it convenient t^ puli-
liah either their trials or their confessions. On
the 23d of July, Villeroy had arrived on a specinl
inisaion from France, and desired to speak with
the queen; but the lords, who expect<^ii no favour
from that side, refused to admit liiiii. A very
different reception was given to Sir Nicholas
Throgmortoti, a special envoy from Eiiiabetli,
who found himself among old friendxi and who
in a vei7 few days recommended his mistress to
be favourable to the Lords of the Secret Council,
who covld do ker hett lervice. Soon after, Throg-
murton informed his court that he could get no
access to Queen Mary, whose life was in great
danger, and that he found it would be difficult,
if not impossible, to induce the lords to send
Prince James into England — a plan which, for
obvious reasons, Elizabeth aud Cecil had much
at heart. He mentions having had some con-
ference with Mr. Knox and Mr. Craig, whom he
had requested, as he saya, to preach aud persDade
unity.' The Assembly of the Kirk having met
at Edinburgh, chose Geoi^ Buchanan for their
moderator, and put themselves in close leagiu

with the Lords of the Secret Council ; t.aA, lu
increase the prevailing enthusiasm, the assemblr
appointed a public fast to be held in Edinborgli
for a whole week. Elizabeth, meanwhile, niiA<!
a decent show of remonstrating with the Lonlt
of the Secret Council on the uiidatifuloess af
their conduct ; but she did nothing to prevent il
or succour her relative Mary; and Throgmorton,
her negotiator, was the bosom friend of ikmt
lords, and a man that, both upon political aud
religious grounds, would rejoice at the overthrow
of the Popish queen. Throgmorton, as we have
seen, was denied access to Mary. The commnsi-
cations he received from her, or concerning her,
were all conveyed through Maitlaud or the Lwli
Lindsay and Ruthven ; and hence, to say DOlhiu<,'
of his oum nolent prejttdicet, his despatches to tlii:
English court are not entitled to all the ereilil
which has been given to them as historical docu-
ments.' The two great and real objects of his
mission were to get possession of Prince Jamia
and to prevent Mary's going to France.

At the same time these cunning worktiiL'ji
threatened the French court that, if it made anv
effort in favour of the captive queen, they would
throw themselves wholly into the arms of the
English, and, peradventure, make Mary taste of
sharper [langs. And the Hamiltons and the r«?t
of the noiilea opposed to the Lords of the Secrrl
Council took no Bte{iii for her release, waiting, it
should seem, for the return of their head, tliK
Duke nf Chatellerault, who, as welt as the Earl »f
Moray, was absent in France. Thus abandonwl
by all, and beset with dangers and threats ul
death and worse, the captive queen, on the 24tli
of July, put her hand to a deed in the presenci-
of Ruthven, Lindsay, and Sir Robert Meh-ille,'
by which she resigned the crown in favour of thr
baby James, then about fourteen months old.
At the same time she was forced to sign a com-
mission appointing her half-brother Moray to bv
regent during the minority of her son. Lindsay
and Ruthven, who were chosen for the buMness
on account of tlieir auperior brutality, soleuuty
swore that the deeds liad been signed freely and
willingly.

Now was the time for the Earl of Moray t-i
return to Scotland) but he was careful to take
London in his way; and. if we could leant wbnt
passed then between him aud Elizabeth and
Cecil, we should have the clue to many mrste-

■Hart. M«.,qu«<dh, IU«n.«.

poHKl, of Btr Andrtw Meinile, oho ippwi in hIUb.

Qd«>. «i^ .1 bar dUth. Th— It™ MtlrU.. »

lilrd «f Rtith In Fife, from whom m imaaiM ih

hto, >•«> in drt^Ung th. Kcreurr-. nm -"// th«« b. a,

men and mnUmprmrisi. Andnw HalTltl, imihaar u

tl»itof7i»«iti«*lnrtM«j.

lift, hu nomtlj Imh pflntoil bj "" Wodrow Sori

J<UIW H-lTilU. Ih. mnthnr of tb> J(™i»l.'ii^d ,d^ \7{, »r

oditi™, lS4a.

»Google

i.o. 1567— ISfiS-l ELIZA

ries Mor»y left Loudon oq the 31»t of Jul;,
about & week after his aiater had been made Ut
sign the deeds in Lochleven Castle. When lie
reached Berwiuk he was met by a deputation
from the lords : when he reached Edinburgh, on
the 11th of August, he was received with all
honour and joy bj- Morton, Ruthven (aon of the
murderer of Rizzio), Mftitluid, John Knox, and
all the preachers. It was evidently not without
calculation that the astute Moray did not arrive
tiUafter the coronation of hia nephew. Tliftt pre-
vious ceremouy had been performed at Stirling
on the 29th of July. Throgmorlon had orders
not to attend ; and it appears that none of the
foreign ambassadors were present. About the
middle of August, Moray, with others, went to
Lochleven, where he held a " long conference
with Mary, in which he told her all her l>ad
government, and left her that night with no
hopes of life, and desired her lo seek God's
nierey, which was the only refuge she could ex-
|>eet." Next day, Moray gave her some hope of
life and preservation of her honour, telling her
that her liberty lay not in his power, and that it
was not her interest to ask it— that the things
that would hazard her life wece any disturbance
or rising made in her favour, any attempt to
escape from her prison, any encouragement given
to her party, any eugngement on her part to in-
duce either the French king or English queen to
attempt her liberty by force or treaty, or any
further signs of affection for Botliwell. In con-
fUisiou, Moray erhorted his sister to repent of
her sins, and regard the confederate lords as her
l>est friends, who only sought the refomiatioo of
her religion and niomls. Moray had ali-eady
professed a decent reluctauce to step into his
lister's place ; and so, on the S£d of August, he
was proclaimed regent, protesting " that it was
now pant deliberation ; and as for ignominy and
c^tumniation, he had no other defence against it
but the goodness of Go'i, his upright conscience,
and his intent to deal sincerely in his office,"'
One of his first measures was t« destroy the seals
which bore the name and titles of the queen; his
next to get possession of Edinburgh Castle; and,
on the S4th of the same month, Sir James Bal-
four, Bothwell's lieutenant, who had for some
time been driving a good bar^in for himself, Bur-
reodered the fortress, upon condition of h:iving a
free pardon for his concern in Damley's murder,
a pension out of the revenues of the priory of
St. Andrews for his son, and ^esOOO in cash. On
the 30th of September, being aided by Morton,
the regent got posBession of the strong castle of
Dunbar. Soon after he heaped fresh honours
Had emoluments upon the murderer Morton —

Wnjht.

BETH. 1 25

thus confirmiug the sospieious of thousands,
that this man had done hia business during liis
alisence in France. He restored him to the office
of chancellor, which he had forfeited by keeping
the door while Biithven and his satellites mur-
dered Rizzio; and to this high legal office, by a
curious combination, he added that of lord high-
admiral, which was left vacant Jiy the flight anil
attainder of Bothweli. Morton, chancellor and
high-admiral, wHs also made sheriff of the shires
of Edinburgh and Haddington, and received
sundry other emoluments. He accompanied
the regent on an expedition to the south, where,
under pretence of pu&isbing the moss-ti-oopera
on the Borders, they took vengeance on several
districts which had manifested an affection
for the captive queen. Whenever there waa a
Sue to be imposed, Morton was there with an
open palm. If this curiona revolution had been
conducted with any attention to constitutional
forms, a parliament^ would have been called at
leaat six months earlier; but at last Moray as-
sembled one at Edinburgh on the 15th of Decem-
ber, in order to legalize the recent changes. The
Hamiltons kept awayjthe seats were crowded with
the partizans of Moray; Morton presided as chan-
cellor, and his nephew Angus, a boy of fourteen,
carried the roya! crown, and voted with his uncle.
John Kiioi preached at the opening of this pnr-
liament, and exhorted them to begin with the
affairs of religion. It was not likely Uiat this
subject should be neglected, for Moray's main
strength was in the preachers, whom, however,
he left almost as poor as he found them. All the
acts which had been passed in 1660 against Po-
pery were revived, and new statutes, in accor-
dance with the spirit of the times, were added to
them. Other acts were piassed confirmingall that
had been done in the deposition of the queen,
and the appointment of Moray to the regency.

On the 3d of January, four obscure men, sei'-
vants and retainers of Bothweli, were executed
for assisting iu the murder of Darnley : it is S(ud
that they all acknowledged their guilt, and ac-
quitted the queen. But by this time— in part,
no douiit, owing to the awkwanl course pursued
in parliament and in the privy council — in part
from the favours heaped upon Morton and others
who had gone hand in hand with Bothweli to
the very lost moment — many who before had
deemed Mary guilty, now began to consider her
as innocent — as a victim to the craft and villainy
of others. The Hamiltons still banded together;
all who were disappointed in their ho|)es of profit
and advancement from the revolution, joiued
them more or less openly; and nothing was want-
ing but the presence of the queen to induce these
men to try the fortune of the sword. Mary was
most vigilantly watched ; but she was resolute,

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

ebe wad adroit, aJiil Hlie potuessed in her person
mid manner a chnrni whicli few men could resist.
She had also b«yoiid her priaon walls, ajid the
deep waters of Lnclileven, friends and servanta
who were enthuaiaaticaHy attached to her, and
ready at every moment to peril life in her behalf.
C\)nunuDicationa were opened with the ialet ;
bands were atationed in ambush round the loch;
horses were provided, the fleetest that money
could procure "On the 25t!i of March," writes
Sir William Drury to Cecil, "she enterprised au
escape, and was the rather nearer eflect through
her accuRtomed long being a-bed all the morn-
ing "' But Dotwitbslanding this failure, and the
consequent increase of vigilance in her keepers,
the queen repeated her attempt on the 2d of
May. Within the castle there wus a lad of
seventeen or eighteen, called William Douglas,
or the " Little Douglas," who is supposed to have
been a relative, either legitimate or illegitimate,
both of the lord of the castle and of the Regent
Moray. He is described as lieiug a imot and
simple lad, who escaped suspicion on account of
hU innocence and simplicity. He stole the keya
of the caatie from the keeper's chamber, where
they were always det>osited, sut the queen at
liberty in the middle of the night, locked the
castle gates upon all the inmates, threw the keys
into the loch, led the queen with one female at-
tendant to a little skiff, and then rowed her to
shore. There the Lord Seton, George l>ouglBa,
and a party of the Hamiltons, received her with
tninaporta of joy, and carried her in triumph to
Hamilton. Many of her friends were prepared;
others came in on the morrow, and a aolemu asso-
ciation for her defence was drawn \ip and signed
by the Earisof Argyle, Huntly, Eglintou, Craw-
ford, Cnssilis, Rothes, Montrose, Sutherland, Er-
rol, by nine barons, by nine binhopa, and by mauy
other gentlemen. These chiefs presently brought
4000 or 5000 men into the field, and, placing the
queen in their centre, they moved from Hamil-
ton towards Dumbarton. The Regent Moray
nas lying at Glasgow, holding courts of justice.
At 6rst he was thunderstruck, and would not
believe in the jioBsibility of his sister's escape.
Seme of his friends advised him to retire from
Glacgow to Stirling, and avoid an eucounter;
but Moray, who was a goo<! soldier, knew the
difference between the undisciplined host that
followed the queen and the regular trooiis which
he had alwut him ; and he also counted on the
resources of the town of Glasgow, and the reli-
gious zeal of its inliabitants. Mary offered a
free pai-don to all save five—the Kirl of &ioi-too,
the Loitl LiiiiltMv, the Lonl Seniple, Sir Janies

Balfour, and the provost of EdinbnrgL ; but the
lords were not inclined to any composition, but
spoke of killing the queen, whom they had found
so difficult a prisoner. The two armies met on
the 14th of May, at Ijuigside, in the neighbour-
hood of Glasgow, and attacked each other with
desperate fury. Mary remained on an adjacent
hill, the spectatress of the doubtful fight. Now
victory appeared to incline to her party; but anon
her evil genius Moiiou, sweeping round an emi-
nence with a strong detachment, charged her
friends in flank, broke them, and decided the day.
The defeated fled iii all directions; and thequeeu
herself, attended by the Lord Herries and a few
other friends, rode almost without stopping to
Duudrennan Abbey, in Galloway, near to Kirk-
cudbright, and sixty miles from the field of battle.
Here she was brought to an awful pause. There
were only three courses open to her: — she might
remiun, and throw herself iijion the mercy of her
subjects — upon men who hod shown her little
mercy; she might Ree to France; or, lastly, she
might seek a refuge in England. The first she
naturally avoided, as what would lead to certain
destruction; she would have adopted the second,
but there was no ship to France; and the voyag'?,
whether she circumnavigated England or Scol-
land, was dangerous on many accounts, besideri
that of the elements Tliere remained, then,
the desperate resource of a flight into EugUnd,
and upon this she finally resolved. Her wioett
counsellors represented this course as the mu^t
dangerous of the three; but Mwy would not l*-
lieve her I'oyal sister Elizabeth cajiable of ihe
conduct they surmised. The Lord Herries then
wrote to Lowther, the deputy captain at Carlisle,
informing him of hix (queen's situation, and ask-
ing whether she might go safely into England
EliEHbeth could not have had time to hear of the
battle of Ijingside, and to send down positive
instructions, but she was certainly well informed
by this time that Mai'y had no chance of success,
and might have given orders in contemplation of
a sure defeat; or, again, her officers near the Bor-
ders, who were in communication with Moray,
might of tliemselvet have devised a plan for en-
trapping the fugitive queen without any direct
breach of promise on the part of the high autho-
rities. Lowther, the deputy, wrote a doubtful
answer, saying that Lonl Scro]ie, the warden of
that march, was at court, whither he had wTittcu;
but if the queen found herself obliged to croet
the Borders he would meet and protect hi-r till
his mistress's pleasure was known. Without
waiting for this letter,* Mary, with sixteen atten-
dant*, the chief ol whom was the honest aiiil

>Thet«l«rwui»t i«Ri'«l. ilib'Hililkppru. till MUTT- ■

»Google

A.D. 1567— 1569. j

([xllMit Xcrd UerrieF, embarked ii
tishing-boat Co craa tbe Solwa/ Firth; and oo |
the eveaiug of Sunday, the 16th of May, 1568, (
a.ie arrived at Workington, in Cumberlaud, trith- I
out mouev, without a change of raiment — vith '
nothing but the tender affection of her almost
belpleaa retinue, and her hope in the magnani-
mity of Elizabeth. She immediately wrote to i
that "good sister," informing her of her miafor-
tuned, and her arrival in her domiuione. Some <
gentlemen of the neighbourhood, tvlio probably
entertained just notions of the sacred rights of |
hrupitality, gave her a kind reception, and hon- |
(iiirably conducted her to Cockermoutb, where, I
on tbe following day, Lowther waited upon her
with what appears to have bceu a little army. '.
Od the following day Mary wns conduct«d to
Carlisle, and lodged in the castle, not as a royal
and nofortunate guest, but as a prisoner. Sir '
Franna Enollys, who was sent down post to the
aoTth with letters and "messages of comfort"
from Elizabeth, greatly praised Lowther's good
behaviour and discretion tJiwards her highness,
in securing the fugitive queen, and in refusing to
admit the Earl of Northumberland into Carlisle
Castle with any mora company than hie page.
It in evident that even at this moment Northum-
berland was an object of suspicion. KnoUys,
in ineutioning that the ear! met him in York-
shire, says, that he had with him Sir Nicholas
Fairhx, Sir William Fairfax, his son, Mr. Hun-
gate, and Mr. Vavasor, who were "all unsound
in reli^on," and had been with his lordship at
Cirlisle. The great uneasiness of Elizabeth as to
any commanication between her royal prisoner
nnd her own subjects professing tbe ancient reli-
gion, is a very significant feature in the history.
Lord Scropc, the warden and govemor of Cur-
lisle, was despatched from Cork nearly at the
same time aa Knollya, and they both waited
upon Queen Mary in Carlisle Castle, apparently
on the 28th or 29th of May, haviug previously
spoken with Lord Uerries, who hoped that Queen
Elizabeth would either give hia mistresa aid and
comfort, or permit her to pass through England
into France to seek relief elsewhere. They deli-
vered their sovereign's letter, in which Mary was
told that Elizabeth contd not honourably i-eceive
her iuto her presence until she was cleared of
all suspicion of being concerned in Damle/H
murder. Mary had expected a different treat-
menL She solemnly affirmed to Scropo and
Knollys, that both Maitland of Lethington aud
the Lord Morton had been concerned in the
murder of her husband, as could well be prove<l,
although now they would seem to prosecute the
murderets. Tbe two envoys repeated that their
inistreM waa " inwardly sorry and very much
griered" that she "could not do her that great

BETH. 127

honour to admit her solemnly and worthily iuto
her presence by reason of this great slander of
mui-der; but they assured her of her highneas'e
great affection, and that if she would dnpend
Tipon her higbness's favour without seeking to
bring in atrangera into Scotland, then uudoubt>
ediy her highness would use all the convenient
means she could for ber relief and comfort.
Mary agreed to send up Ixird Uerries to London
to plead her cause with Elizabeth, and she then
dismissed Scrope aud Knollys, " complaiuing of
delays to her prejudice, aud the winning of time
to her enemies."

On the following day, or the day after— it waa
the 30th of May — Knollys and Scrope had an-
other interview with Mary, who inveighed against
her brother Moray and his adherents, saying,
among other things, " tliat when she was but nine
days old they had a reverent and obedient care
of her, but now that she waa twenty-four years
old they would exclude her from the government."
Knollys, who was fully aware of the main course
which bis royal mistress meant to pursue {for the
silver boi, with letters from Mary to Bothwell,
true or forged, which was afterwards brought
into the case, had really no weight whatever in
Elizabeth's decision], ventured to tell the Scot-
tish queen that, in some eases, princes might be
deposed by their subjects lawfully; and he men-
tioned the caae of a prince falling into madness.
" And,' added he, " what difference ia there be-
tween lunacy and cruel murdering^ Mary,
however, had almost captivated the cautious vice-
chamberlain, with her beauty, and spirit, and
graceful familiarity. " And yet," he says, " this
lady and princess is a notable woman. She
seemeth to regard no ceremonious honour besides
the acknowledging of her estate regal. She show-
eth a diapoaition to speak much, to be bold, to be
pleasant, and to be very familiar. She showeth
a great desire to be avenged of her enemies; she
showeth a readiness to expose herself to all perils
in hope of victory, . . . So that, for victory sake,
pain and peril seemeth pleasant unto her; and in
respect of victory, wealth and ali things seemelh
to her contemptuous and vile. Now what ia to
be done with such a lady and princesa, or whe-
ther such a princess and lady be to be noorished
in one's bosom, or whether it be good to halt and
dissemble with such a lady, I refer to your judg-
ment.' The vice-chamberlain then proceeds to
recommend a bold and direct course, in order to
prevent any danger to Elizabeth.' From the
tone of his letter he was evidently not very par-
ticular as to tbe proofs which might be brought
against Mary; it was only necessary to declare

»Google

128

niSTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and Miutabt.

Iier guilty, au<l so prevent any luiiK-liief to Qiie«n
Elizabeth, wbo, by auch a. sentence, would be
justified iu assisting tlie R«geut Moray, and keep-
ing his sister a, close prisoner.

Lord Herriea did little good with Elizalielli,
who induced him, in a manner, to appoiDt her
judge or arbitrator betneeu Mary and tier sub-
jects. At his solicitation, however, the English
qiteeu thought fit to seud an agent, Mr. Middio-
niore (or Meddlemore), into 8i:otlaud, to stop the
civil war there; for Mary's pavtizan8,thovigh sore-
ly pressed and persecuted, were not wholly dis-
couraged by the battle of I^ngside, and the Earia
o( Huutly and Ai-gyle were up in arms in her
favour. This Middleraore, whose secret inatruc-
tious were no doubt of it very different kind from
that which was given out, travelled northward
with Lord HeiTies, to the great " diacontsntu-
tion"of Sir Francis KuoUys, who was not let
into idJ the seci'et, or informed of the real object
of his errand. But aj soon a.i this Mr. Middle-
more got afi'oss the Borders, he hastened rather
than retarded Moray's buainesa, and encouraged
the regent iu his energetic measures against those
who favoured the queen. On the 21at of June
the Scottish queen urote a striking letter to her
good sister and cousin, which woa forwarded to
London by means of a geuUemiui who had been
despatched by the French court to ascertain the
real situation of the fugitive, and the manner in
which ahe waa treate<l iu Eiigland.' Here the
captive eonipUina that Middlemore, who was
sent, as was pretended, as a safeguard to her
faithful BubjectB, had allied himself with her ene-
luies, wlio, iu her presence, had destroyed the
liouse of one of her priucipal barous, and who
were now treating her friend^ and adherents more
harshly than ever. " Mine enemies," she con-
tinues, " proceed still fai-ther, and boast that they
ai-e autliorized by Aim; acid while they are exe-
cuting their euterpriae, wiiich tends to the cuu-
qneat of my kingdom, they abuse yoti, witli a
hope of proving to you their false calumnies,
which the unequal treatment we ore receiving
would make me fear, if my iuuoceuce and reli-
ance on God, who has hitherto [irotected me, did
not give me nsaunuice. For, consider, madam,
they have now the authority which belongs to
me — the sovereign power by usurjNktion, my pro-
]ierty to bribe an<l corrupt, the finesses which are
at their command throughout the country— and
your own niiiiiatera, who, day by day (at least
aonie of theui), write to them and advise them
what to do that they may convince you. Would
to Goil you knew what I know of them I" " I ciui-

' A. lo lier limlDnnt. liiry W)^ Iu tUi. luis loller lo Blia- '
t«th, " [t sri»« n. to h>T<> H Uitlg cwuluii u pnim tb* ' .
IrthAvlonr oT jaur mlnlaUin, tor of youTHlf I ouutot auU will '

not do less," she continues, " than complain to yon,
and beg you to send fur me, that you may hear
my griefs, and assiat me aa promptly as necesaity
reqiiires, or permit me to retire into France or
elaewhei-e. . . . And I entreat you, as you see
what are tlie effects, do not make an uuequal
combat, they being armed, and I destitute; on the
coQtrury, seeing the dishonour they do me, make
up your mind to assiat me or let me go; for, with-
out waiting for their giving me a third assault, I
must supplicate both the King of France and the
King of Spain, if you will not have regai-d to my
just quarrel; and they, restoring me to my place,
then will I make you know their falsehood and
my innocence: for if you let tliem conquer the
country first, and then come to accuse me after,
what shall I have gained by submitting my cause
to you? , . . I blame no oue; but the very worm
of tlie earth turns when it is trodden upon."'

On thesameday on which she wrote thia letter,
Mary told Knnil/s that abe expected to be let go
into France, ur to be put safely into Dumbai'tou
Castle, " imleH3,''Bhe iulded, "she will hold me aa
a prisoner, for I am sure that her highness will
not of her honour put me into my Lord of Mo-
ray's hauda." Under her circutnstaucea, nothing
could be more imprudent than her continual talk
about Frauce aud Spain; but abe again assured
Knollys that she would seek aid in those quar-
ters, became she had promised her people aid by
August " And she said that she had found that
D'ue which she had heard often of before her
coming hither, which waa, that ahe should have
fair words enow, but no deeds, . . . And, aaith
she, I have made great wars in Scotland, aud I
pray God I make no troitblea in other realms
also."' This, if true, was another iinpmdence.
Knollys was, or pretended to be, much stRrtled;
aud he again advised a close union with Moray,
throwing a little devout unction into his worldly
policyaud tenderness for Eliz;»beth. Othercour-
tiers and statcHmeu did their best to increase the
alarm. Sir Henry Norris wi-ole from Paris U>
warn Cecil, on the authority of an anonymous
informer, that the queen's majesty " did now hold
the wolf that would devour her," and that " it is
conspired betwixt the King of Spain, the po|ie,
and tiie French king, that the queen's niajestv
sliould be destroyed, whereby iht- Queen of Scotn
might succeed her maje.ity.'" Tliis alarm, con-
sidering where Mary thcu was, was ratlier riili-
culous, yet scarcely more so than some of the
hundred other stories which followed in a ertr-
cfitdo of liorrorn, and which never ceased till
Elizabeth had brought her rival to the block,

■ Biinr*(r)r ISIalt Faptrt. Tlw Mm li lUtad CU-Uila, U» :1M
in. Lika lU HuT'i InUn. augpt > 'WT <^< It I* in Kiwih.
■LMHrbuD Ki»U;«uCWI,aiit*d>lMarJuua,IMS.

,v Google

It WM bmh resolved to carry her further into the i ahoald come into England for that purpoee. Blie
r«&lm to some place of greater safety, being "welt assured the Ea^ish queen that she had warned
moated round." Mary made a apirited protest, , her faitUul iubjecta who were still up in arms

that waa of no avail; aad on the 16th of July she
ma carried under a stroofc escort to Bolton
C^tstle, a house of Lord Scrope's, in the north
riding of Vorksbire, not far from Middleham.'
By this removal Mary was cut off from all com-
munication with her subjects, eiceptiug such as
Eli^ieth chose to admit. Sir Francis Knollya
and Lord Scrope dealt very sharply with all Eng-
lish subjects that attempt«i1 to see or correspond
with the captive, particularly if they were Pa-
pista. They thought Bolton Castle a much safer

t Casiu. — Fnim n dnwing b; WhltCock.

I^aoe than Carlisle, but, at the same time, they
tnggcated that their prisoner should be moved
•till farther from the Bordera, telling Cecil, how-
ever, that Uary, though otherwise very quiet and
very tractable, declared that she would not remove
any farther into the realm without construnt.
On the SSth of July Mary wrote another letter
to Elizabeth, telling her that she relied on her
former promises, and expected that she wonld re-
place her in her kingdom, when she had beard
her justify her own conduct, and expose that ot
her enemies. She consented that Moray and
Morton should be heard on the other side, as
Bizabeth required, and that theae two lords

I>ln with 7«m; ud U Odd
11 bfl bormd to jou Aw

for her to abstain from hostilities, and the seek-
ing of any aid from France; that she hereelf had
withheld her despatches to France and Spain, in
order to avoid contracting any farther obligations
in those parts, desiring that if she were to be re-
instated it might be only by means of the Eng-
lish court.' The whole of this letter is cool and
diplomatic, except where she speaks of Moray.'
Elizabeth, however, cared little for her warmth
on this head, for she and the regent had come to
a perfectly good understanding. Moray, on his
side, had a confident reli-
ance on Cecil; and he sent
up hia secretary, John
Wood, to London, to show
the minister and the queen
copies of sundry secret j)a-
pera. The regent, how-
ever, was not so ready as
his imprisoned sister to
bring matters to an issue;
and though Elizabeth wrote
to him to come into Eng-
land with a commissioner,
to treat, and to answer to
the Scottish queen's com-
plaint, he found it very easy
to delay so doing till the
mouth of October; and
during all that time he was
allowed to establish his own
authority in Scotland, and
was even assisted by Eliza-
beth in so doing. It will
strike eveiy reader, that
possibility of constituting a court
to try Mary, and, until the very last moment,
it was pretended that Elizabeth would merely
arbitrate iu a friendly manner, or that, if any
party was to be tried, it should be Moray with
his adherents. But Herries clearly foresaw the
course which would be pursued, and he guarded
against it as well as he could with forms and de-
clarations of his sovereign's entire independence
of the English crown. Elizabeth declared that if
Mary would " commit her cause to be heard by
her highness's order, not to make her highness
judge over her, but rather as committing herself
to the council of her dear cousin and friend," her
liighnesB would treat with the Scottish nobles,
and bring things to a happy conclusion. Eliza-

beth would, for example, restore the Que

1 of

■ Mu7 tud began to odl HoniT iwi /
biotbir ; ind in thl> partktnUr l«It« ib
Monr l> anil nlitad to ha mijiitj of Bngluid pc

• Google

niSTOBY OF ENGLAND.

130

Scots la her royal seat, by hooouTBbli
dation, the Queen of Scots agreeing, tliat the
lonU and all her other aohjecta should continue
in their honours, Bta tea, and dignities; and this
was the promiae in case of Momy making out
"soma reaaou agaiuat her;' but, it Moray and
his party should fail in proving anything againat
the queen, than her majffirty Elizabeth would
replace Mary absolutely by force of arms, Marj-
agreeing in this case, and aa a reward for Eliza-
beth's assistance, to renounce alt claims to Bng-
laud; to convert her close alliance with France
inUi a league with England ; and to use the conn-
ael of her dearest sister and her estates in parlia-
ment in abolishing Papistry, encouraging Pro-
testantism, and in establishing in her dominion
the Episcopal and Anglican church — an order of
things considered by John Knoi, and the whola
body of the Puril&ns, aa only a few degrees less
idolatrous than the Church of Rome. Thus, in
all cases, Mary was promised her liberty and her
restoration to her kingdom. But very different
language had been held in secret with Moray; to
him it had been declared, that if he could estab-
lish his sister's guilt, she should never return to
Ticotland; and it had also been intimated that he
could eaiilif prove what he desired.

The famous commission met at York on the
4th of October. Elizabeth was represented by
the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Sussex, and Sir
Ralph Sadler, who was still alive and atirring,
though thia business was destined to embitter his
old age. Mary was represented by Lesley, Bishop
of Boss, the Li>i'dBHerrie9,Liviugston, and Boyd,
Uamilt«n,abbotof Kilwinning, Sir John Gordon
of Lochinvar, and Sir James C'ockbum of Stir-
liugr the Kegent Moray appeared in person, at-
tended by the Earl of Morton, the Bishop of Ork-
ney, the Lord Lindsay, the abbot of Dunfermline,
Maitlnnd of Lethington, James M'Gill, Henry
Bnlnaves, the I^ird of Locbleven, and George
Buchanan [the celebrated poet and historian).
On the 8th of October the friends of Mary, as
the plaintiir, were allowed to open the charges
against Moray and hia associates. In the after-
noon of the same dny Moray and his colleagues
artfully said to the Duke of Norfolk, that they
were "desirous to understand that, if in this ac-
tion they shall prove all things directly where-
with they may and do emburden the queen, their
sovereign's mother, how they be assured to be
free and without danger of the said queen's dis-
pleasure, and what surety may be had for the
young prince, their king, if the ahouid be reatored
in her former estate?" Elizabeth's commisaioners,
who, ngsiust the spirit of the agreement, had
allowed Moray to refuse hia sister the title of
sovereign, and to advance the coronation of the
infant Jamea aa a constitutional act, now de-

[ClVIL A

0 MiLrrARV.

parted still more widely from the promises which
had been given to Mary and her agent Lord
Herriea. They said that, indeed, their mistrestfa
desire " hath always been, from the beginning,
that the said queen might be found free, specially
from the crime of her husband's murder; never-
theless, if her majesty shall find to be plainly and
manifestly proved (whereof she would be very
sorry) that the said Queen of Scots was the de-
viser and procurer of that murder, or otherwi*#
was guilty thereof, surely her majesty would
think her unworthy of a kingdom,aiid wonld not
atain her own conscience in maintenance of such
a detestable wickedness by restoring her to a
kingdom."' Moray then declared that it was set
forth and published in Scotland that Mary should
be either amply restored, or otherwise by some
degrees restored, and sent home amongst them,
by the Queen of England. Elizabeth's commis-
sioners, with a bold face, denied that any such
promiae had ever been made. But Moray was
not fully satisfied, anapecting that, although the
Queen of Scots were not wholly restored, yet she
might, "peradveutura, be relieved in some degrees
by the queen's majesty, which might breed unto
them no little danger."* On the following day,
when he and hia commissioners were to give in
their reasons against Mary, Maitland raised cer-
tain doubts as to the extent of the commission
given by Elizabeth to Noi-fulk, Sussex, and Sad-
lei; -lat, " For that they see no express words in
the commission to authorize her grace's commis-
sioners to deal in the matter of the murder ;"2dly,
"That delay might be made in judgment, which
would he very dangerous to them." He tlien,
with Moray and the other commissionera of that
side, moved that Elizabeth ought to be adver-
tised of these their doubts, " apecially tor that it
standeth them upon, and they think it very rea-
sonable that her grace should put them in suffi-
cient surety to he free from danger of the queen,
their sovereign's mother, before they enter to
declare against her." A letter was, therefore,
despatched to Elizabeth, to request additional
inatnictiona.

But Moray and Maitland certainly did not
wait for an answer to charge Mary with such
things as, to use their own words, they had
"hitherto been content rather to conceal than
publish to the world to her infamy and dis-
honour,"' They secretly laid before the English
commissioners translations of certain letters in
French, said to have been written by Mary to
Bothwell, some just before the murder of her
husband, others before the seizure of her per«>n;
two contracts of marriage ; and a collection of

»Google

AD 1567-1569.] £L1Zj

love Bonneto, described ae being the queen's com-
position, and as sent by her to Botbwell.' On
the 11th of October, before any answer could
have poHBibly been received from court, the Eng-
liah conunisBioneTS made an abstract from these
papere, which might tend to Mary's condemna-
tion for "Afr consent and procnremeut of the
murder of her huaband, as far forth as they could
by their reading gather.' They liad evidently
read the letters mid the amorous rliytncs with
great attention; but they omitted altogether
making any inquiry touching the authenticity of
these papers, which from first to last Mary and
her friends maintained were foi^ries. They as-
sumed, "from plain and mauifest words contained
in the said letters, that the inordinate and filthy
love between Mary and Eothwell " was proved ;
that she bad bated and abhorred her husband
Daniley ; that she had taken her journey from
Edinburgh to Glasgow, to visit him when aiok,
with the intent of inveigling hitn to Edinburgh,
where he was murdered, &c.' These sweeping
conclusions, as well as the documents upon whicli
they were founded, were carefully concealed from
Mary's commissioiiers, who were requested to
seek an enlargement of their comniisBion, or, in
other words, to ask their mistress to agree, in the
dBH[,to aukuowledgeEIizabeth'sauthority. Lord
Herriea raised some objections, but Mary agreed
to alter the wonls of her commission, and ndd a
clause that her commissiunei a might treat, con-
clude, and determine all matters and causes what-
soever in controTnrsy between her and her sub-
jecto.' She still, liuivever, maintained the per-
fect independence of her crown, while Moray
and her enemies now showed themselves ready
to acknowledge Eiiaibeth's aupi-eraacy over Scot-
land, that, as "superior lady and judge over that
realm, she might determine in this case." In
3 time, Moray presented to the
n answer to tlie chains of his
queen, in which he alleged that his friends had
never taken up arms but against Buthwell — that
they had afterwards sequestrated their quetn
because she adhered to Bothwell — SJid tliat they
had at last accepted her resiguation, which wns
willingly given merely from her disgust at the
( power, and never extorted

ftt Wwtmintw, hj hnndnilt of penoDM. frieodj li well u tvm
■o Mur. fa(t mDrt at wham knev b« budwHtlni; imd tK

■«wr ilMmptad ; th»t tfcoj irnts In m mummlno ot jaiaitt*

BETH. ]31

from her. To this Mary's commissioners replied,
that the queen had no means of knowing lbs
ntrocilies of Bothwell, who had been acquitted
by a Scottish jury, and wcommended to her as a
huaband by the Scottish nobility— that she had
ever been desirous that Bothwell should be ar-
rested and brought to trial — that the resignation
of the crown was extorted from her — and that
Throgmorton, the English ambassador, had ad-
vised her to sign that paper, as the only means
of saving her life; assuring her, at the some time,
that, under circumstauces, such an net could
never be considered binding on her part. Mnry
had by far the best in the controversy; but she
did not know that she was only fighting with
shadows. The city of York, in the meantime,
had become the scene of the most complicated
intrigoes. Tlie Ehike of Cliatellerault, who had
lately ri-tumed from France, made a faint efibrt
in favour of Mary. Other Scottish nobles were
nnxiouB for a compromise, and the settlement of
a government iu which they should all have a
port '. and Moray at this moment would have
agreed to allow his Bi3t«r a large revenue, pro-
vided she would confirm her resiguation of the
crown, and consent to reside in England with an
English huaband. We profess our utter inability
to understand the complex game — we do not \»-
lieve that it ever luis been, or ever will be, clearly
understood : but the words of the Earl of Sussex,
one ot Elizabeth's commissioners, contained an
undisputed fact, which is that these parties tossed
between them the crown and public affairs of
Scotland, caring neither for the mother nor the
child, but seeking to serve their own turns with-
out any reference either to Mary's guilt or inno-
cence.' Maitland, whoae ways were always iu-
Bcrntable, suggested a marriage between Mary
and the Duke of Norfolk, her divorce from Both.
well being effected ; and he hod the address to
bring Norfolk, perhaps Miiry herself, iuto this
scheme. But what seems the most extraordinary
part of this story is, that the Regent Moray hin)-
self entered into the project, and professed a
great earnestness for the marriage with Norfolk,
whose favour with Elizabeth, he pi-etended, would
enable him to procure tranquillity to Scotland,
and place the Protestant religion in security, [t

'k, la Lodgfl. Tba Dukfl of Nur-

11 partlcnUr (nnu. the which bdii^ dealt, tba^
voniM tilbet of qiuflb or king-"— Ovtdvll-

»Google

13:

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

is barely posaible to uudent&Dd how Moray could
fall in with such a gcheme,' even for the moment;
but he may bave been iip«ll-bouiid by ths supe-
rior crafl and audacity of Maitland, whose whole
■oul was an intrigue, and who, eiuce hia late ar-
rival in England, may have even proposed to
bimseU the daring scheme of overthrowing ElizA-
beth and of placing Mary on her throne. It did
not I'equire hia talent to see that the whole Ca-
tholic population of England was oppressed^
that many Protestants were averse to Elizabeth's
government— and that the Duke of Norfolk, who
was both rich and brave, bad an immense party
in the north, counting among his friends the
great Earls of Westmoreland tmd Northumber-
land, who, upon many grouuda, were dissatisfied
Urith ^e queen and with Cecil. Maitland of late
bad not been eager to press the question of Mary's
guilt, and, even if be had done so, it would coat
little to a supple man like him to change bis
tack, and hold her up as the model of queens and
women. And he certainly assured Norfolk that
Mary waa innocent of her husband's murder.
But Maitland waa watched with vigilant eyes :
bis intrigues with the Duke of Norfolk were dis-
covered, and an order came suddenly down from
London for the instant removal of the conference
from York to Westminster. Elizabeth now
openly declared that Mary should never be re-
stored ta the crown of Scotland if Moray could
make good hie accusations ; and she assumed aa
a right that ebe and her privy council should
proceed to sentence.' At the same time Elizt^
beth joined Leicester, Cecil, Bacon, and others, to
the commission, and commanded the immediate
attendance not only of Norfolk and Sussex, who
had purposely kept out of the way, but also of
tbe Earla of Northumberland, Westmoreland,
Shrewsbury, Worcester, and Huntingdon, of the
Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of
London. Mary, it should appear, made no com-
plaint until she learned that Moray bad been
admitted into the presence of Elizabeth, iu vio-
lation of a promise given by the English queen ;
but then she ordered her commissioners to requii
of Elizabeth, in the presence of her court and the
foreign ambassadors, that she, too, might be al-
lowed to go up to London, in order to meet her
accusers face to face. Mary's commissioners
were coldly received ; and the opposite party
were not only encouraged, hut excited by Eliza-
beth and Cecil to nrgs publicly their ch&rgi
At the end of November, Moray, therefore, de-
clared that Mary bad been "persuader and co
mander'of the murder of ber husband: and b(

he ought to have stopped; but be went on to add
the incredible charge (which caat a doubt on all
the Teat), that she had also intended to canse the
death of tbe innocent prince, ber own son, " and

transfer the crown from the right line to a
bloody murderer and godless tyrant." Maiy'a
steadfast friends, the Bishop of Rosa and Lord
Herries, then demanded of Elizabeth, that, as
she bad admitted Moray And hia associates into
her presence to accuse their queen, she would
also be pleased to admit into the same presence
Mary herself to prove her own innocence; and
they represented, at tbe same time, that the jun
of their sovereign ought to be detained in
the country. Elizabeth replied that this was a
difficult subject, which required long delibeni-

and she would never give any other answer
to their requests. Mary's commissioners then
did what they ought to bave done long before —
'ith the advice of the French and Spanish am-
bassadors, they declared the conference to be at
an end.' But Cecil would not acc^ their pro-
test and declaration, and tbe mock conference

nallo

(be pTtiJaDlad in&h^, |

* Pmceedingi In tht oouncil ■( Himplon Conrt, W ' " "

At last came the decisive n:
14th of December the Bari of Moray produced a.
silver box or casket full of the origiwd love-
letters, sonnets, &c.; and he contended that these
uuproved and unsifted documents, together with

previous decree of the Scottish parliament,
were quite sufficient to establii^ the queen's
guilt. Elizabeth had had copies of these docu-
ments long before, but she waa deairona that there
should be an open and unreserved production of
the originals. The papers were laid before the
privy couucil, including Norfolk, Northumber-
land, Westmoreland, Leicester, and all the great
earls, and letters written by Mary to Elizabeth
nere laid beside them, that the band-writings
might be compared. But, instead of asking the
councO to pronounce on the authenticity of the
documents, Elizabelii merely told them that
Mat; had demanded to be allowed to answer to
the charges in the royal presence, and that she
now thought it inconsistent with her modesty
and reputation as a virgin queen to admit her.
And on the following day she sent for the Bishop
of Boss and Loi-d Herries, and told them that
she never could receive their mistress into her
company, and that Mar; ought to answer the
charges in some way, or submit to eternal infam;.
If we are to believe the Spanish ambassador,
Elizabeth and her minister had been thwarted
In council by the great earls, some of whom had
shown a little spirit, and checked a little tbe
terrible fury with which Secri-tary Cecil sought
to destroy Mary: but we can scarcely believe that,
nnder any circumstances, either Elizabeth or

»Google

Cecil wish«d at present to do more than cover
the «pUv« queen with iliagnce, aud to oppress
her with imputationa of eDormous guilt, which
might rend«r her odious and harmleas. Mary,
though labouring under every difficultj, would
not ait down in silence like a convicted criminal,
and she rejected, with scorn, a proposal made to
her hy Knollys, at Elizabeth's orders, that she
should ratify her reflignatiou of the crown, and
m save her honour — her enemies upon that oon-
dition agreeing not to publish tlieir proofs against
her,' She immediately wrote to her commis-
lOooera, bidding them declare to Klizabeth aud
hrr council, that, "where Moray and hia accom-
plicea had aaid that she knew, counselled, devised,
persuaded, or commanded the murder of her hus-
band, they had falsely, traitorously, and wickedly
lied, impatisg unto her the crime whereof they
(hemaelves were authors, inventors, doera, and
some of them the proper executioners." She
mIemnJy denied that she had stopped inquiry and
dua puniahnient. "And," she continued, "they
cbai^ UB with unnatural kindness towards our
dear aon, alleging we intended to ha^e caused
him follow bis father hastily: howbeit the natural
love a mother beareth to her only child is suffi-
cient to confound them, and merits no other an-
■wei : yet, considering their pioceedings by-past,
who did him wrong in our womb, inteading to
have slain him and us both, there is none of good
judgment hut they may easily pereeive their
hypocrisies, with how they would fortify them-
selves in oar son's name til) their tyranny be
bett«r established." She then revoked her order
for breaking np the conference, saying, "And,
to the effect our good sister may understand we
are not nilling to let their false invented allega-
tions pass over in silence (adhering to onr former
protestations), we shall desire the inspection and
doubles of all they have produced against us; and |
that we may me the alleged principal writings, if
they have any, produced. And with God's grace
Ke shall first make such answer thereto, that our
innocence shall be known to our good sister, and
all other princes, so that we but liavs our good
sister's preseuce, as our adversary has had, and
reasonable space and time to get such verification
as pertains thereto." Elizabeth took no notice
of Uiis remonstrance, and Moray's silver box was
never submitted to examination. The Bishop of
Ross put into Elizabeth's own hands a plain and
striking defence to the charges which had been
produced, affirming — 1. That nothing was alleged
hut presumptions. 2. That it could not be proved
that the letters in Moray's box had been written
with her own band ; " and she was of too much
honour to commit snch a fact, and of too much
wit to have conceived such matter in writing."

' AnyWiy auU Pa/nni AwloH. • HiiTtliUt Statt Prptn.

BETH. 133

3. That neither her hand, nor seal, nor date was
to the lettara, nor any direction to any. 4. That
her hand might easily be counterfeited: "whereof
some assistant to the adversary, as well of other
nations, as of Scots, can do it;" and that, "by
comparison of writings, no truth can be had.'
G. That, for the marriage with Bothwell, the no-
bility solicited and advised it, and subscribed
thereto, especially some of the adversaries, as by
a writing under their hands would be testified.*
At the same time, Mary reminded Elizabeth that
she had promised her that she "would have her
queen still'— that she would uever permit her
own (the Scottish) aubjecta to sit in judgment
upon their queen, and that she would bide all ex-
tremities rather than look back from the hope
that was given her. "And,' writes Knollys pri-
vately to Elizabeth, " unless your majesty will
proceed against her, and forcibly maintain my
Lord of Moray's govsntment, you shall never
bring her to a yielding; for she hath courage
enough to hold out aa long as any foot of hope
may be left unto her.'

During the Christmas holidaja the commission
reposed from ita labours; but three or four sep-
arate parties prosecuted a variety of intrigues.
After the holidays the Bishop of Boss, who bad
received fresh instructions from his mistress,
wuted npon Elizabeth, to demand copies of the
documents, that Mary might answer them, and
prove her accusers to be liars as wall as traitors.
Elizabeth coolly replied, that she must take time
to deliberate on such demand; but she now gave
as her own opinion, what she had before ordered
Knollys to suggest to Mary as his own friendly
fldvice^that it would be best for her to resign
her crown, and lead a peaceful life in England.
The bishop assured her that his mistress bad
authorized him to declare that she was resolved
rather to die than do any such thing— that her
last wonl in this life should be that of a Queen of
Scotland.* The bidhop was brought up before
the full council ; but he gave the same bold an-
swer; and ontbe 11th of January, 1669, Elizabeth
put a strange end to the conference, which of late
had been carried on at Hampton Court. She
told the Regent Moray, before her court and
ministers — in private tier conversation was dif-
ferent—that nothing bad been proved agunst
the honour and loyalty of him and his adherents,
but that they, on the other hand, had shown no
sufficient cause why she should conceive any evil
opinion against the queen her good sister. This
was admitting Mary's innocence of the crimes for
which alone it had been pretended she was de-
tained a prisoner; but, as we have said before,
the question of Mary's guilt or innocence had
little to do with any of these measures. Eliza-

»Google

134 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [CmL a»d Miutast.

beth, who had trieil to get possesBionof tlie Scot- i joumejfroin Loodon^ — EUkabeth sent doim strict
tish queen by vuioua means, was fully resolved ordera to her uuhappj Tice-chomberlaio Knallje,
to keep her now that efae had got her. She and to Lord Scrope, to move the Queeo of Scobi
turned to Moray, and assured him that he might | with all haate to Tutbury, as a ylace farther in
safely go back to Scotland, and rely apon her the realm and more secure. Mary liad protested
good-will. The Bishop of Robs then told her j that she \rould not move farther from the BoT'
der except by force : and many unuecesaar; pains
were taken to make it be believed that bo forcr

On the Seth of January, in inclement weather,
without money, or the proper means of transport,
the Queen of Scots and her att«ndant3, male and
female, were obliged to mount some sorry atcedii.
which hod been lentto Knollys by the Btsbopof
Durham. Mary's friend. Lady Livingsloa, m
taken ill on the road, and left behind at Hother-

thnt if his mistrew's accusers were permitted
return to Scotlaod, it would be most unfair to
detain her a prisoner in England; aud he and his
colleagues solemuly protested, in Mary's name,
against any act which should be performed whilst
she remained in captivity. The regent locked up
the originals, and took tbem with him ; Elizabeth
kept copies of the love-letters and sonnets. Nor
was this alt : Moray wauted money, and she
gave him i,'5000 ; he wanted a proclamation

satisfy certain national jealousies in Scotland, ham. At Chesterfield the queeu herself o
and he got it; he wauted an unusual pass for the j plained of the violent pain of Ler aide to which
lords wardens of the Euglish marches, and let- ithe bad been subject ever aince the Biizio mar-
ters of favour to the English nobility near tlie der, and also of headache, so that the cavalcade
Borders, and he got tbem also. was obliged to remain at a gentleman's houae

If we are to believe some extraordinary state- near Chest«rfield, where tbey had good accom-
ineuts which were afterwards made upon the modations, which seem to have been wanting ia
Duke of Norfolk's trial, Moray did not depend all other parts of the journey. It was not until
wholly upon the assistance of Elizabeth,' but pro- theSdof Febru.i>; that the captive queen reachol
cured from his sister Mary
letters to her friends in the

north, both English and - "" \. ■

Scotch, to give up their ■.-..-'- ^ ,-. "^^ .••./"--. ^, ...^i .l;_^^,

design of setting upon him,
and to permit his peaceful
return to Edinbui-gh; Mo-
ray having, according to this
showing, entered fully into
the Duke of Norfolk's pro-
ject for marrying Mary.
But we think one part of
the story disproved by an
intercepted letter written
by the captive queen to Iter
subjects in Scotland, and
calling upon them to as-
semble and resist the regent
to the best of their might,
and to do all the evil they
could to the said rebels,

and to stop their returning Tnwtav Cistti.— h«io»d«i>ingby Biwk, in iih Briudi NnMnm.

home if it were possible.*

Escorted by an English guard, the earl reached ; Tutbury Castle, a strong place upon the river
the city of Edinburgh on the 2d of February, j Dove, in Staffordshire, the property of the Earl
1569, after an absence of nearly five months. I of Shrewsbury, under whose charge she was now
But before he got there— before he began his | placed; but the poor vice-chamberlain Knollys,
■n»«»mi_otH»»7..^„ptp«>fl««lu>tb.Bord«.. aV, -"hose wife had died at court without hU being
ilita "Bij Doment Ixptd Uniudon. "bo ir» u Berwiok, wroM ! allowed to make a journey to see her, was "M ^
toC«llth.ni«r.i™.gr«tnirimJil«rUotSoMUi«i-th.t, Uevod from his cliargp, being joined in conuni'-
ui. .».. ■>t HuuUj bud pithenKl "'"' unaer tne earl. , . . ■
tiu7, uid iDBuii to imii 1 iHn pur- Elizabeth was soon made to feel that, ii

It Iha Bui of HuulJ; buit gutheniil .

solving to keep Mary in captivity in the heart of
En^anJ, she liad done that which ca«t a Ihresl-

,v Google

AD l564-lS7i,l ELIZ^

«iiing cloud orer her own liberty and greatueeD,
Hud deprived her of her peace of mind: in fact,
fur many jeua slie waB incesaatitly haunted with
the fears of plots, escapes, and bloody retaliation ;
uo castle seemed strong enongb, no keepers sure
enough, for her hated rival, who, in many re-
spects, had bemme more dangerous to her than
evN. From time to time these jealousies and
apprehensions were stirred np by zeatoua Protes-
tauts and the friendn of Cecil. Ueanwhile some
of Elizabeth's noblest subjects were secretly de-
vising how they might liberate the prisoner —
ptrkap* how they might revolutionize the whole
ooonUj, and place Mary upon the throne of
England 1 and foreign princes were openly com-
plaining of the English queen's cruel and un-

BETH. 185

seemly treatment of a crowned head —of one who
wag as much an independent-princess as heroelf.
But no foreign power was at the time either in n
condition or in a disposition to hazard a war with
the powerful Queen of England for the weak
and ruined queen of a weak, poor, and anarchic
country. To their remonstrances Elizabeth re-
plied, that they were all labouriug under a great
mistake — that she was the dear siater of Mary,
the best friend she ever had — that she had given
her an asylum, when her subjects drove her from
her kiugdom and Bought her life — that she had
been delicately watchful of her reputation, and
had suppressed, and wus still suppressing, docu-
ments which would render her infamous to her
contemporaries and to all future a^pea,

CHAPTEK XVII.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1564-1572.

ELIZABTTH

Affain of tha Hngnenoti in Fnnca— DapmnoD t>{ the NgtlierUndt under tb« Spauiali rule— Philip II. eatabluliM
th* laquiBtion— Kevolt in tbe Nstherloudi-^Tlie Dake of Alva KDt to inppreu it— Hii ungninai? proueed-
iogt— Akrm of tbe Hu^Booti ot Fnnee— The; nrolt agaiiut thsir Uag— ConSicU of Alva iritli tbi Pro-
testant troops in ths NBtherlandii—Hatriuionial negotiatioD of Qnwn Blintbetb with tb* Arohduk* Charlea—
Duke of Norfolk Heka the Qnetu of Scota in marriage— Condition! propoaw] for thii nnion—Eliiabetb wamii
him againit it — One of the mnrdersi* of Daniley apprahendsd and exeonted in Sootland — Hit alleged con-
fsMion*— Tha Dnka of Norfolk lent to tbe Toner- Eliabath wnda aid to tha H ngnanoti— SnmaMM and
dafeati of the Hoguanota — PriTataeriug war of the Eagliih against tbe Bpaniarda — Miiundentandinga with
Franca — Elizabeth ooTertl; anitta tha Hngnenota— Francs and Spain retaliate by itirring np Iha English
Papiata— A reballion of tfaa Papilla on tha Borden— Tba; attempt to liberate Queen Uar;— Tbaj are defsat«j
—Tbe Earl of Northnmberlaad, their leader, impriioned in ScoUsnd— Lord Uacn rebela, and ii defaated—
AMannation of the Eari of Moray— Civil war in Scotland —DeatniotiTe Eugliah invaaioD (* Seotlaud—
Eaaontjoiu of Papati tn London— fitatntea enaotad agsiuat tbam- Tha Puritans of England— EUnbath'a
aatipathf to tbam— Tbrit racoanful rariitanoa to her deapotio flDoroacbmanta — Embasij to France— Negotia-
tioDi for the mattiage of Blinbath to a FVench priuo*— Endeavoura of tbe ambaiaj to prqjndim Ihe canaa of
Quean Hary— Freab plot) of tha Papieta for her liberation— They ara del«ctBd—Ths pablismiud kept iDalami
-Trial of tha Duke of Norfolk— Ha i> eondemned and eiecnted- Tha Earl of Northumbatland ddivared to
EUtabath— He ia •leeoted — Continnanoe of (lie civil wan in Scotland.

■REAVING Mary in her prison at
Tutbury Castle, we must now take
np several important events which
occurred previous to her commit-
tal there. The burning heat of the
Huguenots and Catholics, added
to the heat of ambition (for the princes and great
met! on both sides were, for the most part, indif-
ferent to the question of religion) kept France in
a blaze. In 1564 Elizabeth's friend, the Prince
of Cond6, was disgusted by being refused the
poBt of lieutenant-general of the realm, left va-
cant by the death of the King of Navarre; and
as the Protestants saw th&t the treaty of peace
made in the preceding year in order to expel the
Euglisb from Havre was not kept, and that the

court was revoking the liberty of conscience, it
was easy for the prince to assemble once more a
formidable army. Bnt for some time-the Hugue-
nots were kept in awe in the north of fVance by
a large force, which the court had collected to
guard the frontier from any violation that might
arise out of the disturbed state of the Nether-
lands, whose discontent, which became in the end
another war of religion, was at first common to
both Protestants and Catholics. The industrious
and commercial citizens, who had grown enor-
mously wealthy under the rule of the Dukes of
Burgundy, saw their prosperity dwindle and
waste away as Boon as the government of their
country was transferred by marriage to the mon-
archic and despotic Spaniards. Charles V , a

»Google

136

HISTORY OF ENGLAND,

lOii

. A>D MlLlTAHl

native of the country, had some Bympathy with
the people, and was too wise to force them at all
poiiitBi but wheu hia dominioii fell to hia bigoted
gon Philip II., no moderation wm preserved.
The nobility were iusulted, the merthaats were
robbed by illegal imposts, the privileges of the
free dtiea were violated, and every coDstitutional
right was declared to be of no weight agiuDst
the will of the monarch — the anointed of the
Lord, the chosen of Heaven, And while few or
no Dutchmen and Belgians could find proviuon
or promotion in Spain, Spaniards were thmst
into almost every office in the Netherlands. The
rich abbeys, which had hitherto been pogsesaed
by natives, were dissolved to found bishoprics,
and these new sees were all given to foreigners.
Under these circumstances it is not strange that
even the Catholic clei^ of the Nether] anUa
should become disaflectetl; but, to their honour
be it said, this portion of the Roman church, or-
thodox as it was, abhorred the Inquisition, which
Philip very soon resolved to establish in the
country as a completion of his benefits to it; and
some of them who regretted the spread of Pro-
testantism, asked whether it were not better to
employ milder remedies than lire and sword. But
Philip had no taste foi mild remedies, and he
told one of his ministers who had ventured to
reason with him, that he would rather lose all
his kingdoms than possess them with heresy.'
A detestable tribunal, after the model of that of
Spain, was therefore established. The power-
ful Prince of Orange and the Counts of Egmont
and Horn placed themselves at the head of their
countrymen, and a confederacy, in which the
Catholic* acted with the Proleatanta, was formed
in the spring of 1S66, with the avowed object of
putting down this institution, and with the more
secret design of recovering the eonstitntional
rights of the country. The Duchess of Parma,
who governed the provinces in the name of
Philip, yielded to the storm, and declared that
the Inquisition should be abolished. At this
point the Catholics and Protestants separated:
the latter required not only an exemption from
the secret tribunal, but libeily to profess and
t«ach their own doctrines: the Catholics wei-e
qnit«aati8fied with what had been done, and were
not at all disposed to do more for the rights of
conscience, nor indeed to tolerate any o|>en pro-
fession of the Reformed faith. The Protestants
therefore met in their places of worship with
arms in their bands. The preacher preached
with his sword naked before biin, the congrega-
tion, men, women, and children, carrieil arms or
bludgeons. In Antwerp and other great trading
cities, which were crowded with English and
Oermao Protestants, Uie people set the regent at

defiance. At the same time the country people
who were out of the reach of the Spanish garri-
sons, not only gave an asylum to the persecuted
preachers, but began to declare that it was time
to root Papistry out of the land: and they soon
proceeded to knock down the churches, to break
the images, to destroy the pictures, and to do all
that had been done in other reforming conn-
tried. Presently Antwerp became in Catholic eyes
a horrible scene of impiety and sacrilege. Only
the Walloon provinces refused the signal and re-
mained devout and tranquil.* For a short time
the Reformers bad the field to themselves, but
then the Duchess of Parma fell upon tbem with
a mixed host of Spaniards, French, and Wal-
loons. A battle was fought near Antwerp; but
the burghers and peasants were as yet unequal to
a contest with regular troops : some were homed
alive in a house to which they bad fled for refuge,
some cut to pieces, and some drowned in the
Scheldt as they were fleeing from their pursuers.
Then, partly by force and partly by stratagem,
the regent introduced a strong garrison into
Antwerp. Her severity, it is said, was tempered
by clemency, but her master Philip had detei'-
mined that no clemency should be shown to men
who were doubly damned ax heretics and rebels.
He recalled the Duchess of Parma, and des-
patched the famous Duke of Alva, who was as
admirable as a military commander as he was de-
testable as a bigot, of as a passive instrument to
despotism, with an army still more formidable
from its discipline than from its numbers, to re-
store obedience and a uniformity of belief in the
Low Countries. At the approach of Alva, the
Prince of Orange retreated to his principality of
Nassau; Egmont and Horn, who stayed in the
hope of justifying their conduct, were cast into
prison; the rest of the leaders fled to England and
France, The success of Alva alarmed the Pro-
testants everywhere; in England and in Scot-
land it cast a cloud, which was never to be re-
moved, over the fortunes of Mary, but it was in
France that it excited the wildest panic. The
Huguenots, who were lUways a minority, «iw
that they must be crushed, and maintatined that
Alva was specially appointed to carry into eBtct
the secret ti-eaty of Buyonne, for the forcible res-
toring of all Protestants to the obedience of the
chnrch. With this conviction the Huguenots re-
solved to anticipate their enemies. The Prince
of Cond6 renewed an old correspondence with
the Prince of Orange, with the English court, and
with others interested in opposing the Bayonne
treaty; and he, with Colligny and other chiefs
of the party, laid a plot for sur)>risiug the king
— the contemptible and wretched Charles IX.—
and all his court at Mnnceaux.

(

,v Google

4.D, law- 1672.] ELIZ/

King Cb«rlea wu nved from the hands of
bU Protestant snbjectB by the fidelity and bra-
Tery of his Swiss mercenaries. Elizabeth had
sent Coad6 money and advioe; and il has been
Mserted that she vaa privy to thin plot, and that
her ambnssador, Sir Henry NurHs, wai deeply
implicated in its amngemetit What is more
certain is, that when the conspiracy failed and
the Huguenots were driven into an open and
despenit« war, Cecil instnieted Korris to comfort
tbem, and exhort them to persevere. Charles
soon found himself shut up in his capital; but he
was liberated, or freed from a siege, by the battle
of St Denis, in which the Hiignenots were de-
feated. The Constable Montmorency, however,
was slain, and the king found himself obliged to
conclude another hollow pacification. In the fol-
lowing spring (1C68), 3000 French Protestants
CKMsed the northern frontier, to join the Prince
of Orange, who had taken the field against the
Spaniards. In the month of June the Prince of
Orang« waa obliged to relj-eat before the Dulceof
Alva ; bat in Angnst he re-appeared witL 20,000
men. Alva skilfully avoided a battle with tbU
Boperiar force, and manoeuvred in such a man-
ner as to exhaust the strength, spirits, and re-
sonroes of the Protestants. At the end of the
campaign, the Prince of Orange was obliged to
reerosa the Bhine, and disband what remained of
hi* anaj. Theae Proteatatt troops had been in
a good measure raised by English money, secretly
nipplled by Elizabeth, who at the same time waa
at peace with Philip, and in public took care to
proclaim her respect for the Spanish monarch,
and her dislike of all rebellions; nor did she relax
her efforts, or despair of success to the insurgents,
either in the Netherlands or in France. The
goremment of the latter country had given, in
the preceding year, what might have been con-
sidered a provocation to war, but she and Cecil
were det«nuined to have no open war. When,
at the expiration of the tenn fixed by the treaty
of Cat^aD-Cambreais, Sir Henry Norris deman-
ded the restitution of Calais, the French chan-
cellor quoted an article of the treaty, by which
EHizabeth was to forfeit all claim to that town I
if she committed hostilitiea upon France; and
further told Norris that, as she had taken pos-
■eeeton of Havre, she had brought herself within
the scope of that claose.

In 1667 Elizabeth had entered anew into ma-
trimonial n^otiationa. Her old suitor, the Arch-
duke Charles, wrote her a. very flattering letter,
■nd Uiongh she had not the most distant inten-
tion of marrying him, she despatched the Earl of
Sussex on a solemn embassy to Vienna. There
were two particular obstacles to be overcome: —
tbe queen would niarry none without sight of his
person beforehand, and without his agreeing to
Vol. II.

BETH. 137.

adopt her own religion.' Sussex, who was anxious
for the match, attempted tu obviate both these
difficulties,' This matrimoniBl negotiator, nrlio
had been deceived by his mistre&a and by his own
eagerness for the marriage, assured the archduke
that Elizabeth did not now mean a lingering en-
tertaining of the matter, but a direct proceeding
to bring it to a good end, with a determination
to eonaummate the marriage if conveniently
she might. The archduke anid, that he had
heard so much of Elizabeth's not meaning to
marry as might give him cause to suspect the
worst; but he was, or pretended to be, satisfied
with Sussex's assurance, and, putting off his cap,
he said he would honour, love, and serve her
majesty all the days of his life, provided only she
would bear with him for bis conscience; but
wheu Sussex hinted tliat he (the archduke) was
only temporizing ia matters of religion, and
might be expected to change his faith, " in order
to settle in this marriage," tlie Austrian prince
honourabljand frankly informed him that he was
mistaken^that his ancestors had always held the
religion which he held — ^that he knew nothing
of any other religion, and therefore could have
no mind to change. And then he asked, how
the queen could like him in any other thing, if he
should be so light in changing of his conscience.*
The archdulce afterwards wrote letters to Eliza-
beth herself, to stipulate for the liberty of hear-
ing mass in England, in a private room uf the
palace, at which none but himself and his ser-
vants should attend — consenting to accompany
the queen to the Protestant church regularly,
and even to intermit for a time the exercise of
his own religion, if any serione disputes should
arise thereupon. But Elizabeth now fell back
upon the fears and the strong religious feelings
of her Protestant subjects, prot«stiug to the Aus-
trian that they would never tolerate a Catholic
prince, and pointing out to them how difficult it
was for her to find a suitable husband; and there
is little doubt that the majority of the people
were more content to see her remain single than
to see her marry a Catliolic. The treaty was
carried on for years; but in the end the archduke
found a lesi difficult bride in the daughter of
Albert, Duke of Bavaria. The queen ought cer-
tainly to have kept a matrimonial secretary, for
alt these interminable negotiations, added to the
weight of his other business, nearly proved too
much for Secretary Cecil, who was constantly
praying to the Lord to deliver him from them.

1 HanlaictrviiSi'^ey Paptn: EllW CaVralan, 6b.

t Hon thui ■ yc»r botore ObtU tnfnnDB.! bii friend Sir ThoBa
Smith, Uut " ths wholB liability of Englud fknmnd thli mstd
vtrymooh;" adi| thjtt "my Lord at Ldloeiftflr halh bflhj«v«<
hiniHlf 'nj- witelT to sllow of it."— Suit.

' Iorf(ie. AU tlita mitUr, with mm laHicnlii™, i< rontninB
In Mini ntCten bf tlu> uiDiHuilar Siwai lo Etl»I»tb Iwnllf.

Ii4

,v Google

138

HISTORY OF ENGLANJD.

[Civil and Hiutart,

But iutrigiie* for an obnoxious nurrUge — th&t
of the Duke of Norfolk with the Queen of ScoU
— were now iu full activity. In that dishonour-
able age it wna a common practice (as it has been
in some ltil«r timefi), for people to enter into
plots for the sole pui-pose of betraying them to
the govemmeut, and reaping a, snitable reward.
There were too many engaged in the present
sdieme to nllow of any hope of secrecy. Even
before Moray had returned to Scotland, or Queen
Mary had been removed to Tutbury Castle, Eli-
zabeth had alternately repi-oached and tempted
the Duke of Norfolk, who assured Ler that if
there had been a talk of his marrying the Scottish
<]ueen, the project had not originatwi with hira,
and had never met his wishes — ^'and if her ma-
jesty would move him thereto, he would rather
bo committed to the Tower, for he meant never
to marry with such a person where he could not
be sure of bis pillow." ' The allusion to the fate
of Damley gratified the queen, and she accepted
Norfolk's excuses. But it is said that only a day
or two after his making this protestation, the
duke conferred in secret, in the park at Hampton
Court, with the Ear! of Moray, and then with
the Bishop of Roas, anil Maithuid of Lethington,
when he agreed that if Mary could be restored
to her liberty and her throne he would tnarry
her; they, on the other hand, assuring him, that
snch a nobleman as himself, courteous, wealthy,
and a Proteatant, could not fail of restoring tran-
quillity to Scotland, and maintaining peace and a
perfect understanding between the two countries.
It should appear, however, that Norfolk did not
commit himself very seriously until he was pro-
pelled by the insidious favourite Iieicester, by the
EstIb of Arundel aud Pembroke, and by Sir
Nicholas Throgmorton, the experienced diploma-
tist and plotter, who had suddenly coaJesced with
Leicester, in the hope of throwing Cecil into the
Tower, and changing that minister'a system for
one that would more promote his own interesta.
Throgmorton and Leicester were, in effect, the
most active in pressing the match : but Norfolk
turned round auddenlr, being probably startled
at the danger, and recommended Leicester him-
self, who had formerly been proposed to Mary
by Elizabeth, to many the captive queen. Lei-
cester adroitly declined the honour. Norfolk
then put forward his own brother, the Lord
Henry Howard, but be also whs afraid.

At last the duke agreed to be the husband,
and then a letter, subscribed by the Earls of
Leicester, Arundel, and Pembroke, and the Lord
Lumley, waa privately mldreesed to Mary in her
prisou, urging her to consent to the mniriage,
but requiring her at the same time "to relinquish
all Buch claims as had been made by her to the
■ Irtrtliut faptn.

prejudice of the queen's rsajesty; and that reli-
gion might be stablished both in Scotland and
England ; and that the league of France might
be dissolved, and a league made betwixt England
and Scotland; and that tbe government of ScoU
land might be to the contentstion of the Queen
of England."* And the Duke of Norfolk is said
to have assured as well the Scottish qneen as the
lords who sobscribed this letter, that unless these
articles were agreed to, he would have nothing
to do with the matter. Leicester aud the others
assured him that if Mary would agree to the
articles, then riey would "be means to the queen's
majesty to like of the marriage."' Norfolk and
his friends stud afterwards, that they had as-
sured themselves, from the letter being vriilen
bj/ the Eati of Leicetttr, there would be nothing
in it "but for the queen's majesty's security."'

Mnry was ready to do a great deal in order to
open her prison gates, but she demurred at this
propiosal, stating that the previous consent of
Elizabeth was neceesary, and that aU her aula'
mitieM had, in eg'eet, arum out of her titter'* wrath
at her marrioffe wUK Dctndey. The lords, how-
ever, naturally thought that it would not be dif-
ficult to overcome her objections; and Norfolk,
in bis own name, wrote letters to the fair captive
as H lover and liberator. These letters wereeou-
veyed to the queen bv the Bishop (tf Boss. He
was true to his trust, but Norfolk had admitted
into the secret Wood, the agent of the Regent
Moray, and this Wood soon put himself in direct
communication either with Elizabeth or Cecil, or
probably with both. The consent of the French
and Spanish courts to the match wa* asked
through their ambassadors: everything seemed
to favour the project and flatter the ambition of
Norfolk. Many of the principal nobility of Eng-
land encouraged him, aud none remonstrated, save
the Earl of Sussex, who saw clearly the real nature
of the plot, and the ruin it would bring upon his
friend the duke. Sussex wrote to Cecil, regret-
tiug the great coldness vhich he had observed
between him and the Duke of Norfolk; a feeling
which, he says, must have had its origiu in mis-
representations and the ill offices of their ene-
mies— of men who were eager to profit by their
dissensions and miu them both.* Norfolk, ou
the faith uf promises pledged, was fool enough
to expect that the Ear] of Moray would now ap-
prove the articles of marriage, and charged Mait-
lond to open the subject to her majesty of Eng-
land.

The regent pretended to recommend his sister's
liberation to a Scottish parliament which he hnd
assembled; but, at the same time, he was taking
all the menaui'es in his power to keep heraclo<vr

■ BttrgWl raptri. ' Ibid.

* Ibid. ' Lodta-. MwtnM^Kl.

,v Google

AD 1564—157?.] ELIZd

priaoaer in EugUud thau ever, Here Maitlaad
uid he quitrrelled ; for the utute Becretarj, dia-
utiaded with Momj'a gOTemmeut, and full of
Ilia grand state intrigue, which embraced England
aa well as Scotlaitd, was now more anxious for
the reetoratioii of Mary thaa be had been two
Tears before for her deprivation. But Maitland,
for the moment, was overmatched, and, fearing
for hia life, and cursing what he called the double
dealiiig and perfidj of Moraj, he fied from £din-
buTftfa to seek an aayluiu in the mountains of the
Lorth In the mouth of August, EUizabeth and
her court being at Famham, and the Suke of
Norfolk being in attendance on her, there sud-
deulj amee a wbiiperiog among the ladies of the
court, "who," as Camden saith, ''have much
sagacity in smelling out amatory matters,' that
the Queen of Scots and the dnke were privately
eontrneted t« each other. Etizabeth took the
imprudent Duke of Norfolk to dine with her:
Ae was conrtfous as uoud ; but, when she rose
from table — still, however, "without any show
ef displeasure" — ehe bade him "be very careful
en what pillow he reeted his head." The court
then proceeded to Titchfield, where the Earl of
If iceater found it convenient to fall very sick-
sick, it was said, unto death ! Alarmed— and,
ta id generally represented, still amorous- -Eliza-
beth Ben tc the bedside of her unworthy favou-
rite, who, with many sighs and tears, began to
disdoae every particular of the plot into which
he had inveigled Norfolk. Leicester received a
fond pardon, Norfolk a severe reprimand. The
duke protested that he had never meant ill to
her majesty, and readily promised to let the pro-
ject drop. But Elizabeth could not coucesl her
anger against him, and Leicester, who was soon
up and well, began to treat him rudely. The
duke, upon this, left the queen, promising to re-
turn withiu a week ; but, after paying a short
visit tc London, he went into Norfolk, and fixed
himself at hi^ great house of RenninghiiU. At
the same time, the Earia of Arundel and Pem-
broke, who had signed the letter which Leicester
had writtm to Mary, withdrew from court.
I7pnn tbia the queen became greatly alarmed.
The Earl of Huntingdon and the Viscount Here-
ford werv joined iii coromisuon with the Earl
of Shrewsbury, "to prevent the departure and
vscape out of the realm" of Queen Moiy, which,
it was Bait], "could not be but both jteriloua and
very dishonourable to us and our realm."* Ui^
;^nt requisitions were sent to Kenuiiighall for
llie immediate appearance of the duke at court;
snd it should appear that the government sus-
pected that he was arming his friends and re-

• Cbiidm.- Burgkley Fafrt ' ADgUfji }>apn.

> Soifclk l<U CdcU, b; latUr. that ha wu 111 ol ft ttnt aad

While the matrimonial intrigue had been in
progress, one Paris, a Frenchman, commonly
called French Paris, was apprehended in Scot-
land on a charge of being actively concerned in
the Damley murder. Here seemed to be an op-
portunity of filing the guilt on Mary more di-
rectly add convincingly thau the letters of the
silver box had done; and Elizabeth sent down to
Moray to request, or command, that the prisoner
should be delivered up to her. But Moray re-
plied that French Paris was already executed.
This liorrid execution has been justly aasumed
as a circumstance casting much doubt on the
nature of the Frenchman's confessions. If Paris
had been really diHposed to make such important
revelations, hiit life ought to have been preserved,
in order that he might deliver his evidence, if
not before Queen Elizabeth, at least before a
Scottish parliament or court of law; and Mary
the accused, or her advocates, ought to have had
the opportuuity of cross-examining the prisoner.
There was no urgent motive of fear of a rescue, or
of auy other kind to prevent his lying fora while

prison, Paris was only a page or footman; he

IS well ironed (he had been tormerUid before);

d his life was at all times in their bauds, lu
sliort, to use the words of a writer who was iu-
atftutly struck with the parallel case furnished
by Shakspeare, "Thefactof having put Paris in-
stantly to death, with every other person con-
nected with the murder, resembles the act of the
usurper in the play, who stalw the wai-dera of
Duncan, lest a public eiamiuatiou should pro-
duce other sentiments in tiie minds of the judges
than those whicli he who really committed the
crime desired sliould be inferred."* Instead of
French Paris, the regent sent the English queen
two depositions which the prisoner vmt taid to
have made before his trial. We need not stop
to inquire whether they were made fmfore tor-
ture. In those inyaironing and tormenting -vifre
coupled together — that is, in all such caaia the
prisoner was put to the rack as soon as he was
caught. This practice was of itseif enough to
cast a doubt on all confessions when they were
unsupiiorted by other evidence. But tliese very
depositions difiered. In the first, Midtland of
Lethiiigton was charged as the original contrivei*
of the plot for murdering Damley; the Earls of
Argyle and Huutly, with Balfour, weresetdown
as accomplices iu the murder; and the Earls of
Morton, Ruthven, and Lindsay, as the abettors
and supporters of Bothwell, Here there was no
mention of the queen ; but in the second deposi-
tion it was inserted that Mary had been privy

• XnnrM'l' l^iJMrt.

* Viilta Hwtt, H-*. »<*■

»Google

140

HISTORY OF ENQIjAND.

[Civil a.

1 MlLtTABT.

uid aaaeutiiig. Miiitlniid, it will be remembered,
was at this moment a fugitive from the wrath of
the regent, who had resolved to destroy him,
well knowing that nothiug but death could pre-
vent the Machiavelli of Scotland from intriguing
and manauvring. The most cunniiig men have
roomeutajy fita of credulity. Maitland was made
to believe that the regent was deairoua of a re-
conciliation with him; he went to Stirling, where
Moray welcomed him by putting him uuder ar-
rest, and naming a day for liia trial. Then,
counting upon the priaouer'a fears, he urged him
to become the open accuser of the Duke of Nor-
folk, iuid of others, their common f rienda, in Eng-
land. But thia, Maitland, who seems to have
been in no fear at all, flatly refused ; and on the
day apptointed for hia trial the Becretary's friends
assembled in sach numbers that Moray was fain
to put off the process for an indeterminate pe-
riod.' But the work must be doue ; and now
Moray himself undertook the odious office of in-
former, and forwarded all the Duke of Norfolk's
tetters to the Bnglinfa queen, humbly protesting
that he had not devised the project, aud that he
would never have given hia feigned assent to it
had it not been fo preserve hia own life. When
this evidence was in Elizabeth's hands, or when
it was promised her, she again invited the Duke
of Norfolk to court; and this nobleman, trusting
that her anger had cooled, at last obeyed the

anxious to le&m the art of war on tented fields-
France, where they foaght along
with Cond6 and Colligny, but of course not under
English colours. Among these volunteers was a
youth who afterwards rose to fame. " They wei-e
all," says De Thou, "a gallant company, nobly
mounted and accoutred ; but the moet noted of
them all was Walter Baleioh." This gallant
band, however, was far too weak to tarn the tide

fortune. At the battle of Jamac the Hugue-
nots were defeated, and their leader, the Prince
of Condf, being t^en prisoner, was shot in coIJ
after the battle by Montesquiou, captain
of the guards to the king's brother, the Dake of
of Elizabeth's suitoi-a. Being rein-
forced by some Protestant troope from Germany,
the Huguenots gained a victory at La Roclic!
Abeille ; but, in the b^liming of October, a few
days before Norfolk's committal to the Tower,
they were again defeated, aud with tremeadous
slaughter, at Moncontour.

At the same time Elizabeth, by a measure of
very questionable morality, had f^ven a deadly
provocation to the powerful Philip. She had
sent over money and men to the Prince of Orange,
but, as this was done secretly, she could deny
that it had been done by her authority. But in
the course of the preceding autumn (1668) a
Spanish squadron of five sail, carrying stores

id money for the payment of Philip's army ii

summons, and set out from Kenninghall. At ' the Low Countries, took refuge on the Ekiglish

St. Alban's, on the 2d of October, he was met by
Edwaixl Fitzgarrett, a gentleman of the court,
who attached him, and conveyed him to the
house of Mr. Wentworth, near Windsor.* On
the 9th of October the duke was brought up to
London and committed to the Tower. On the
nth of the same month the Bishop of Rosa, who
in vain pleaded hia privilege as the agent and
ambassador of a crowned head — the helpless pri-
soner Mary — was sharply examined at Windsor,
and then committed to prison. At the same
time the Lord Lumley and some others of less
note were placed under arrest; "and the queen's
majesty willed the Earl of Arundel and my Lord
of Pembroke to keep their lodgings, for that they
were privy of this marriage intended, aud did
not reveal it to her majesty."'

The alarm of the English Protestant court was
the greater on account of the successes which
had recently attended the Catholic arms on the
Continent, notwithstanding the encouragement
and asaiatAUce sent to the French Huguenots by
Klizabeth, who, of late, had permitted many of
her subjects— mm e zealous for religion,

' IMta (Rim C«dl to ar Hmiy K>
tbat he thlnka none ot Uwm lukJ anj
oittMH Uiat aj Lord of PanbnlH mi
(lie qUMa*! mi^|«itr, bit ha don iw( ni

coast to escape a PrDt«stant fleet which had been
fitted out by the Prince of CondS. For a while
the queen hesitated: she wsa at peace with Spain
— a Spanish ambassador was at her court, and
her own ambaasador, Mr. Mann, was at Madrid:
but the temptation was very strong — the money
was destined for the support of those who were
mercilessly bent on destroying a people who pro-
fessed the same religion as her own subjects;
and, besides, Elizabeth much wanted money, for
she had spent, and was then spending, a great
deal to support the Protestant reli^on abroad.
In the end it was resolved to seize the specie,
upon pretence that it, in truth, belonged not to
the King of Spain, but to certain Italian bankers
and money-lenders, who had exported it upon
speculation. The Duke of Alva presently reta-
liated by seizing the goods and imprisoning the
persons of all the English merchants he could
tind in Flanders. On the 6th of January Eliza-
beth resolved in council that the Spanish amlias-
sador should be admonished of the strange pro-
ceedings of the Duke of Alva, and asked whether
he took this act to be done by the King of Spain
or not ; that he, the ambassador, should be let to
understand that her majesty can do no other for
her honour and for satisfaction of her subjects
than arrest all the subjects of the king his

,v Google

A 0. 1561— 1572.) ELIZA

miut«r, and likewise appoiiita womt gentleineti to
keep guaitl orer him (the uabaMiador) in hia
bouse, until she may hear what sbtkU become of
her sabjecta; and that some Bhips should be aeat
to the seas to atop all vessels paning for Spain
or for the Low Countries.' But accordiug to
La Motbe Fte£loD, the uarrow seas wei-e alreaily
swarmiug with Englioh privateers — the (Veui-b-
man calla them pirates— and with urmed vesseU
mannetl by French and Flemish Protestants; and
he mentions that Elizabeth had had a long con-
venation with the priucipal commander of the
•ea-rovevB. The Eoglish cruisers of course oSereil
no Riolest&tion to the Prot«atant privateers of
the Low Countries, but nssiiited them in landing
troops on the French coast for the service of the
Huguenots.' The French court and the court of
Spain were almost equally incensed; but they
had both so many troubles on their hands that
they resolved |o avoid for the present a declara-
tion of war. Privateering tlourished and trade
decayed, but the English ships had not the whole
harvest to themselves: coruairs under the Spanish
flag, or under no flag at all, pillaged peaceful and
bi>De«t merchantmen, and occasionally committed
depredations on the English const. At the end
of January, however, the French government,
after remonstrating t^pinst the supplies sent in
English ships to the Huguenots, seized all the
EkiKlish merchandise in Rouen. There was a
loud outcry in England at this seizure, and some
of the lords «E the council advised an immediate
declaration of war agaiust France. Elizabeth
made great preparations as if for immediate hos-
tilities, taking care that the foreign ambassadors
should be made to see the formidable state of bar
ai'senals and the warlike spirit of her subjects.'
At the same moment plots against the French
^vemment were discovered in Brittany, in Nor-
mandy, and in the neighBburhood of Calais. It
was suspected that the English court was no
stnmger to these conspiracies, and lor many
months great apprehensions were entertained
lest the town of Calais should be put into the
hands of Elizabeth as the price of greater services
to the conspiratoi-s. Meanwhile the privateers
were reinforced, and they now received permis-
sion to take and plunder tlie ships of France as
well as those of Sptun. At last, in the month of
March, the French court demanded from Eliza-
lieth u formal declaration as to whether she
wished for peace or for war, and they only allowed

SETfl HI

her fifteen days to make up her mind. When
Ia Mothtt F^eion delivered his message, Eliza-
lieth again assured him that she was most de-
sirous of maintaining p^ace — that if ths King of
France would liberate the English property at
Rouen she would deliver all the French property
which had been taken by her privateers, a class
of men whose exploits, she aaid, she had always
much detested, having freqaently given orders
to have them punished.' She denied that she
had ever niaintuned any intelligence with French
subjects; but, in the end, she told the ambassador
that the afiair was of such weight she must refer
it to her whole cooncil. Again the*more ardent
of the Protestant lords would have recommended
an open drawing of the sword ; but a double war
with France and Spain was unpromising, and,
at the end of seven days, the queen declared
that it was her full intention to be at peace with
France. This declaration was taken for what it
waa worth; and while the French n^otiator
echoed promises of good- will, he saw with delight
that troubles were breaking out in Ireland, and
dissensions in the Boyish cabinet connected with
Leicester's project for overthrowing Cecil, and
with Norfolk's scheme for marrying the Scottish
queen,* In a very few days after Elizabeth's
pacific dedaiHtlons, it waa found that her ambas-
sador at Palis, Sir Henry Norris, was agtun in-
triguing with the Huguenots and promising them
assistance. Upon this the Oench government
made a fresh seizure of English merchandise at
Rouen, O^ais, and Dieppe. Elizabeth's priva-
teers retaliated on the French coasts; but she
again d^otiated, and promised to put an end to
that kind <rf warfare npon condition that the
French should i-ecal their commissions, for they
also had begun to fit out swarms of privateers.
But again, within a few weeks, Elizabeth gave
audience to envoys from the Hugoenote and to
envoys fi-om the Prince of Orange, and the other
leaders of the Protestants in the Low Countries,
who all wanted from her loans of money, arms,
and gunpowder. She held a grand review of her
troops, horse and foot; and, inSamed at this os-
pect of war, many gentlemen bought themselves
swords and pikes and went over to join the Hu-
guenots, Elizabeth denied that this last was done
by her permission, but presently a fleet of ships,
armed for war, and escorted by the largest vessels
in the queen's service, set sail for Rochelle, which
was, and long continued to be, the principal port

' AlTAvntoT«rtba8leuTd'AiKd«Tm«tatnAtftluiitlbaaiot]«)r.

hhnlbfliv two d*7*T that hv might na and be&r^D ihat piiDcipaJ
uKulwhatii'iinniiinharotwdtkBHiiihabadHiiplDfidaihar
gnat •blpi of »■! U-Cdmijiemlaiut iN^onulifiie dt la KuUi
Fni/lim. ThtaolddlpIniutirtm%htwtiUanipUiiartl»UtU«

»Google

U2

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil ahd Militart.

aiid Rtronghold of tlie Freoch ProtesUiits. But
this fleet was detaiued by contmy winds; the
Huguenots were defeated in the interval, and
then Elizabeth made Cresh proteatiitiotu, and
igaaeA a proclamation against privateers aud all
Buch BN made war witliout her license upou the
French king. Her conduct had irritated the
French court to the extreme, and as the power
of the Protestants iu France seemed to Ik broken,
it wBd resolved, by parties aa craftj aa herself, to
give encouragement, if not more, to the Catholics
in BngUnd, and to excite an interest iu all the
Papisticalcountries of the Continent in fjivoiirof
the captive Mar)-. The Duke of Alva entered
into this scheme; a Floreutine, named Sudolfi,
well acquainted with Engbtnd, acted aa agent for
the pope ; and sanguiue hopea were entertained,
if not of restoriug England h> the bosom of the
rhurch, of distracting aud weakening her by in-
terna] dissensions.

The penal atatutea against the professor* of the
old leli^on had gradually increased in severity,
fiud aa the Catholica triumphed on tlie Coatiuent,
their religion became more and more an object of
suspiciou and of persecution in Eugkud. Eliza-
beth cared little for the dogmas of either church.
She was altogether free from intolerance as to
speculative opiniona iu religion, unless they weut
to weaken the royal prerogative. Her intoler-
ance was all of a political kind, and she perse-
cuted, not because men believed in the real pres-
ence, but because she believed that no CaUioIic
could possibly be a loyal subject.' In the month
of October, immediately aftei the Duke of Nor-
folk's arrest, the counties of York, Durham, and
Northumberland betrayed symptoins of open in-
surrection. Doctor Nicholas Morton came from
Rome with the title of Apostolical Peniteutiary.

Thia

a the n

a of energy and ability, aud connected with
some of the beet families in the north. At the
same time Queeu Mary had found means to esta-
blish a correspondence vith the Catholic Earl of
Northumberland, with the Earl of Westmoreland,
whose wife was the Duke of Norfolk's aiater,
with Egremont Ratcliffe, brother of the Earl of
Sussex, Leonard Dacre, the Tempests, the Nur-
toua, and the Marquen6elds. Most of these no-
blemen were excited by mimy motives, the chief
of which was the restoration of the Catholic faith
iu England. Their ostensible leadei' was the .Earl
nf Northumberlaud,avi!ry niuuiticeut but a very
weak lord. He talked inij<rudeut]y aud did no-
thing; and when at last, in the middle of No-
vember, he put himself iu niotiori, it van only

because he was frightened out of bed at the dead
of night in his house at Topcliffe in Yorkshire,
by a panic-fear that a royal force was approach-
ing to seize him. He then rode in haste to the
castle of Branspeth, where he found Norfolk's
brother-in-law, the Earl of Westmoreland, sur-
rounded with friends and retainers, all ready to
take arms for what they considered a holy cause.
I On the morrow, the 16th of November, they
openly raised their banner. If an ingeuioos stra-
tagem had succeeded, that banner would hare
floated over the liberated Mary. The Countes^t
of Northumberland had endeavoured to get ac-
ceM to the captive queen, iu the disguise uf a
nurse, ID theiutention of exchanging clothes with
her that she might eeo^. But as thu device
had miscarried, the insurgents proposed march-
ing to Tutbury Castle to liberate tlie queen by
force of arms. They issued a proclamation cftll-
ing upon all good Catholics to join them, and,
marching to Durham, they burnt the Bible and the
Book of Common Prayer, aud celebrated mass in
the cathedral. From Durham they advanced to
Clifford Moor, where they held a council of war,
finding to their great discomfort that their forces
did not increase — that the people south of them
regarded their proceedings witli horror — and that
even many Catholic gentlemen, instead of join-
ing them, were repairing to the royal banner,
which was moving northwards with the Earl of
Sussex. They also learned that Sir Qeorge Bowes
was assembling an army iu their rear. Under
these circumstances an advance was deemed too
desperate; aud, in fact, if they bad got to Tut-
bury they would not have found what they
sought, for tlie Queeu of Scots had been removed
in great haate to Coventry.' With 7O0O men
Northumberland and Westmoreland retreated to
Raby Caatle. Their retrograde movement forced
Sir George Bowes to throw himself aud his forces
into Barnard Caatle. A part of the insurgent
army laid siege to this fortress, -wliich aurren-
Uered upon terma in a. few days, while the rest
besieged and took the seugMirt town of Hartle-
pool, where they eetabliahed theruselvea, in the
confident hope uf receiving sucMur from the
Spaniards in the Low Countries, aud, if they had
uot before, tliey now certainly despatched agents
to treat with Alva, the great champion of Catho-
licisui. Meauwhile the royal army lay inactive
at York, a circuniatAni'e which made Elizabeth
suspect the loyalty of the Eiirl of Sussex, who had
been iu former tiuea a close friend to the Duke
of Norfolk, and whose own brother, Egremont
Ratcliffe, was now out with the insurgents. Sir
Ralph Sailler wan hurried down to York, to ex-
ercise his sharp eye aud detect wliat were the
I'eal feelings of Riiwiex.

r.W(rr.

,v Google

itt 1561—1572.1

ELIZABETH.

143

Wh«n Sussex hnd remained ne&r1r& moath at i fered to eichAoge Nurtbumherland for Muy.*
Vork lie w&i jained by the lord-adniir«l uid the | Thus Northiimb«rUnd remained in captivity in
Earl of Warwick with 13,000 men, nised in the I Lochleven. After » while the Earl and Cunnt-
4uuth, and of indisputable ProteBtantiam and ' eas of Westmoreland, Egremont Batcliffe, and

the other refugees, were
conveyed to the Spanish
Netherlanda, But the ven-

. geauce of the law, unmiti-

gated by any royal mercy,

> fell upon the retaiuere and

; friends of the fugitives. On

the 4th and 5th of January
threescore and six indiviil-

., uala were executed in Dur-

ham atone; and thence Sir

'~ Oeorge Bowes, with hie exe-

cutioner, traversed the whole
country between Newcastle

:; and Netherby, a district

~ sixty miles in length and

forty miles in breadth, "and
finiling many to be fanton
in the said rebellion, he did
see tbem executed in every
market-town and in every
w«E»)*T€ ASD w*Lia or H*iirLEP«». viltagc, as be himself (says

Dnan bf J. W. AnJiar, ftoin hia ikrtcb on tb* ipol. Ston) reported untO me.*

All that country was dotted
in every direction with gibbets, Elizabeth imi-
tating pretty closely the conduct of ber sanguin-
ary father on the suppression of the Pilgrimage

Among the Catholic gentlemen whose loyalty
bad been suspected by Sadler, was Leonard Dacre,
the representative of the ancient family of the
Dacrea of Giilsland. This bold man had resolved
to risk his life and fortunes in the cause of the
captive queen, whom he regarded with a roman-
tic devotion: be raised a gallant troop to join
Northumberland and Westmoreland; but when
thorn two weak earls fled so hastily, he enden-

loyalty. He then marched northward. The
J>iike of Alva bad ventured nothing for the in-
rargenta; they were ill supplied with money and
provisions, and they retreated towards the Scot-
tish borders. Their iofantrypresently disbanded
and fled in all directions, but a body of about 600
horee dashed into Liddesdale, being escorted by
3II0 Scottish horse, the partizans of Mary, who
had fondly hoped to see tbem bring their queen
with them. Elizabeth instantly demanded that
the fugitives should be delivered Dp; but, not-
withstanding all his good-will to serve her, the
R^;ent Moray found it impossible to comply with
ber request The Earl of Westmoreland, with j voured to make Elizabeth believe that he had

bis enterprising wife, E^montRatcUBe, Norton,
Marquenfield, Tempest, and the rest, had been
taken under the protection of the Humes, the
Scotta, the Kers, and other Border clans, who set
the authority of the r^ent at defiance. Moray,
however, bribed Hector Grsme, or Graham, of
Harlow; and that traitor delivered up the Earl
of Northumberland, for which deed the fierce
Borderers wiahed to have Gneme's head, that
ihey might eat it among them for supper.' The
unfortunate earl was sent by the regent to the
oitleof Lochleven, the old prison of Queen Mary.
When Elizabeth pressed htm to deliver up hia
captive, that she might do justice on him, Moray
■fleeted adelicateconcemfor bis owu honour and
the honour of bis country; but he afterwards of-

1 arms, not for, but againtt the insurgents.
But Elizabeth and her council were seldom over-
reached or deceived, and an order was sent down
to the Earl of Sussex to arrest Dacre, cautiously
and tecrttly, as a traitor. He fled; but he re-
solved to try his good sword before he submitted
to the hard doom of exile and beggary. Within
a month from the flight of Northumberland,
Dacre waa at the head of 3000 English borderers.
But before a body of Scots could join him, he wan
attacked on the banks of the river Gelt by a far
superior force, commanded by Lord Hunsdon.
Leonard Dacre, however, was not defeated with-
out a desperate battle. He fled across the Bor-
ders, where he waa received and honourably
entertained by some noble friends of Mary, and
he soon after passed over to Flaaden.

,v Google

Mi

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and Militaht.

Before thU riung of Leonard Dacre the itegent
Moraj bad gone to hia account : and it has been
reasonably conjectured that the hopes of the Eog-
li»h insurgent had been excited by this event io
Scotland. On hia return from Elizabeth's court,
and thu mock trial of hia sister, Moray had en-
countered manydifficultiesibuthehadtriumpbed
over them all by laeanB of English money and
his own wondrous caution and deiterity. There
was one Hauilton of Bothwell-Haugh, who had
been made prisoner lighting; for Queen Mary at
lAngside. With other nien in the like situation,
he had been condemned to denth ; but the regent
had pardoned biro and all the rest with a few ex-
eeptiuna. Bat life was all that was granted to
Botliwell'Baugh. His bouse, hia lands, were
declared to be forfeit^, and were given by the
regent to one of his favourites, who brutally
drove ont Botbwell-Haugh's wife, half-naked, by
night, into the fields. The poor woman, who had
recently been dehvered, became frantic, and in
the morning she waa found a maniac Her hus-
band swore that he would make the oiiginal au-
thor of the horrible injury he had sutfered pay
for it with his life. He consulted with the Ha-
miltons, bis kinsmen, with the retainers of the
Duke of Chat^lletanlt, and these men applauded
his design, and assisted him in carrying it into
execution. Bothwell-Haugh engaged an empty
boDse in the principal street of Linlithgow,
through which the recent waa aocuatomed to pass
frequently on hia way to and from the palace.
There he lurked for some time; hut at length,
on the 22d of January, 1570, he saw the regent
riding up tii« street, accompanied by Sir Henry
Gates, and by Drury, the marahal of Berwick,
who had been sent by Elizabeth to treat for the
giving up of the Earl of Northumberland and
others. He levelled hia carabine at Moray, shot
him through tlie body, and then, though hotly
pursued, escaped into France.' On the very
night of the murder, the Scotia and the Kers
dashed across the English frontiers with unusual
fury, and apparently with the purpose of pro-
ducing a breach between the two nations, or of
giving fresh encouragement to the malcontents of
Northumberland and Westmoreland.' It ia said
that, when intelligence of this untimely death of
her half-brother was conveyed to the captive

queen, she wept bitterly, fugetting, for the mo-
ment, all the injuries which he had done her.

On Moray's death, the Duke of Cbatellerault
and the Earls of Argyle and Huntly asBumed the
government as tlie lieutenants of Queen Mary.
Kirkaldy of Grange, who had long regretted the
overthrow of the queen, and the pari he had had
in it, put these noblemen in poaseasion of the
capital and of Edinburgh Castle. But the oppo-
site faction, or the Inn^t men, as they were called,
from their pretended adherence to the in&nt
James, under the guidance of the Earl of Morton,
flew to arma, denied the authority of Mary, and
invited Elizabeth to send a strong English artnj
to their support This was precisely what Eliza-
beth intended to do for her own interests. In
the month of April, under the pretence of chas-
tising those who had made the raid in her doiui-
H on the night of Moray's murder, she sent
armies into SL<ot]and. The Lord Scrope en-
tered on the west, the Earl of Sussex with Lord
Hunsdon on the east. Accordiug to no less
an authority than Secretary Cecil, Sussex and
Hunsdon, entering into Teviotdale, gave 300 vil-
Inges to the flames, and overthrew fifty castles
— mostly, no doubt, mere Border peels.' Nor
was tlie raid of the Lord Scrope in the west less
destructive. After a week's campaign of this
sort, the two armies returned out of Scotland,
and the Earl of Lennox, the father of Daraley
and the grandfather of the young king, was sent
down from England, as a proper person to have
the rule,by Elizabeth, who of late had taken hitn
into favour. But Lennox presently found that
he could do nothing without an English army at
his back; and on the 26th of April, Susaex and
Hunsdon entered Scotland anew, and laid ai^;e
to Hume Castle and Fast Castle, both belonging
to the Earl of Hume, who wsa doubly obnoxious
for hie friendship to Mary, and for his haviog
given an asylum to Elizabeth's rebels. Both
castles were taken, but none of the English refu-
gees of any note were found in them. On the
11th of May, Sir William Drury, the marshal of
Berwick, peuelrated into Scotland with another
force, consisting of 1200 foot and 400 horse.
Having received hostages from the king's men,
Drury marched to co-operate with the Earl of
Iienuox, who was engaged in laying waste the

■ TlwnbHqiiHit talnoiT of tbli Uamllbin at BoUmll.Huigh
!■ IHtltf known, but It ^tpHrt thftt^ fortf -ninfl j«ui Aflar mur-
dorlnf th« ngmt, ha Ibund * qnlflt gTV/9 [a the chnrchjard of
■ eoontrj ptriah of Arnhln.

"The fBU of MoiBj'i nuQB l> ttngutir. ttta imang con-
•pimwu wd taUn am, in wi ig« torn In yieaa bf cnntaiiUnt
fjkctlona. Coat«DporaJT writon t^ne in uotbLnf. Indeel, but
hb gn^t AlftlitSa, and tobergotlc nvolutlon. Aipong the pmpla,
h* wu long mBOTAhoml u 'the good rfignut,' partly nrora thefr
Pzotstuit tml, but in m gnat mcMuan from ■ itrung Hnae ot
tha nnwont*] Hcnrit)' of lift and propuij snjojsd io Boulliud

■ po-ertd pirtj hu for nowlj thne ennturiia dnhnud aiul
ouligned him. In ordsr to <iitnu« ftnm tho psrrenion of htitoij
u h;pot)iiilj«l wah toMrreuiicnanforhii anhipi:^ ilMaT

did nil tb«t be uppetn to h»T<™iitiotBlj nbrtilned ftum doing."
— BIT JimiB Hick III (oah, llultri <^ Bui/laitit.

,v Google

I 1564— ISTil

ELIZABETH

VK]e of the Clyde, aud dtstmyiDg tbe CMtlw of
Ibe Duke of Ohateltei-auit and the hoiuM of all
that bore the Dame of Hamilton, Tfaeir ven- ,
gpance was ao terrible, that that grratfiimilT, with
neM-ly the entire clan, was luDugbt U> the verge
of ruiu. Drurj returned to Berwick on the 3d ;
of Juoe, haviug done n great deal iu tbe waj of
destruction in a very abort time.'

It WAS during these fljiug caiupaignB in Scot-
land that the pope, Pius V., found a man bold
enough to nfflz hia bull of excommunication to
the gates of the Bishop of Iflndon'a t«wa resi-
dence. Elizalietb and her conncil seem to have
been thrown into a wonderful conatemation, aa
if their wure not nware that the thunders of the
Vaticau lind become an empty noise. The gen-
tlemen of the inne of court were atill auspected
of being unsoand in religion: the first search and
inqueat aeema to have been made among tAein,
atid another copy of tbe bull was found in the
cbamberof a student of Lincoln's Inn. The poor
student was presently stretched on the rack, and
then, to escape torture, he confessed that be had
received the paper or parchment from John Fel-
ton,a|ientlemauofproperty wholivednearSouth-
wark. FeltanwBBappreheadedandstretchedupon
the aame infernal instrument: he acknowledged,
before he was laid upon the rack, that it was in-
deed he who had adized the bull on the gates,
but more than this no torture could force from
him. Ue was kept in the Towei from tbe 2fith
of May to the 4th of August, when he was ar-
raigned at Guildball, snH found guilly oF high
treason.' Felton boir hid horrible fate like an
enthusiast, elevated liy the conviction that he had
been doing God service; but, at the same lime,
to show that he bnre the queen, penionallf, no
malice, he drew a diarooud ring from his finger
of the value of £4W, and sent it to her as a
present. His wife had been mNid of honour to
Hary and a friend to Elizabeth. A conspiracy
made by certain gentlemen and others in the
raunty of Norfolk was detected ashort tinie after
the exhibition of the bull of excommunication;
hnt it appears that there was no connection be-
tween the two things. John Throgmorton of
Norwich, Thomas Brook of Boleaby, aud George
Bedman of Cringleford, all people of condition,
and devoted friends to the Duke of Norfolk, were
arreated, tried, and all three hanged, drawn, and
qoartered. In the evidence produced against
them wasa proclamation of their composition, iu

granted a subsidy of Oi. in the ponnd by the clerg}',
besides two-Ufteenths and n subsidy of 2i. 8d. in
the pound on tbe laity, " to wardsreimbursing her
majesty for her great charges, in repressing the
late rebellion in the north, and pursuing the re-
beltt and their faitours into Scotland." But there
was other business of a more remarkable nature
than this liberal voting of supplies. A hill was
brought in with the object of crushing the pre-
tensions and the partizans of the Scottiiih queen,
and isolating the English Catholics more than
ever from the pope and their co-retigionists on
the Continent. It was declared to be high trea-
son to elium a right to the succession of the
crown, during the queen's life, or to say that the
crown belonged to any other person than the
queen, or to publish that she was au heretic, a
schismatic, a tyrant, an infidel, or usurper, or to
deny that the descent of the ci-own was deter-
minable by the statutes made in parliament. It
was farther enacted, that any person that should,
by writing or printing, n^ention any heir of the
queen, except the same were the naturtd ittue of
her body,' should, for the first offence, snfler a
year's imprisonment; and, for the second, iocui'
the penalty of prtemvnire. Another bill enacter)
the pains of high treason against all HUch ■■<
should sue for, obtain, or put in use any bull ni-
other instmment from the Bishop of Rome. By
another bill, all persona above a certain age were
bound, not only to attend the Protestant chnrch
regularly, but also to receive the sacrament in
the form bylaw established. Beside* tbe unfor-
tunate insurgents of the north, many individualii
of rank, among whom was Lord Morley, bad re-
tired to the Continent, in order to avoid perse-
cution, or a compliance with forma of worship
which they believed to be erroneous and sinful:
another bill was, therefore, brought in, com-
manding every person who bad left, or who
might hereafter leave the realm, whetlier with
or without the queen's license, to return in six
months after warning by proclamation, under
the pain of forfeiting his goods and chattels and
the profits of bis lands. By these enactmentit
the Catholics could neither remain at home with-
out offence to their consciences, nor go abroad
without sacrificing their fortunes. There was a

wu utuU/ witb ohild, ud Uia i
■ftflr wbtti At bocuiw liablv ki i
Tbtn la ft patm^ Id ft ]«ttor froi

lUTDbvr of iTidvcflnt Jokiv
lomiMld tbftt tlMqDHn
3rt ipmid tli« widvr IDOD
onihgi ftnd fainilDg flto.

[loirlii( jMw, rhioh, i[ nvtbing mota, ■• mr oddly «

livrliftUi bndiuaiig* In

»Google

146

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil asd Militart.

talk of a retuoDHtratitv, but the House of Com-
niutia' aiiil the people were most zealoualy Protes-
tant ; and the CatliiiliL- lonla in the upper house,
though foi-ming a coimiiierahle party, had not
i»urage t<) clo niuth. Elizabeth, however, volun-
tarily gave up her bill for the forced taking of
the sacrament— a thing horrible in Catholic eyes.
But it was (lot every ctaaa of Protestants that
was to rejoice and be glad. There was one class
of them, great, and conatiuitly iacreasing, dan-
gerous from their enthusiasm, odioui from their
repubiicaa and democratic notions, that were
feared equally with the Catliolics, and hat«d
much more by the queen. TheM were the Puri-
tuna — men who had inibibed the strict notions of
Calviu — a sect which Elizabeth, however much
she hated it herself, had forced upon Queen Mary
in Scotland. This sect bad always taught that the
church of Christ ought to be separate from, and
independent of the state — a doctrine that went
ta overthrow the queen's supremacy. But there
was another heinous offence which Elizabeth
could never forgive: they fraternized with the
Puritans of Scotland ; they regarded John Knox
as an inspired apostle^ Knox, who had written
af>ainst "the monstrous regiment of women."
The first striking instance of actual punishment
inflicted upon any of them was in June, 1567,
when a company of more than a hundred were
seized during their religious exercises, and four-
teen or fifteen of them were sent to prison. They
behaved with much rudeness and self-sufficiency
on their examination; but these defects bt>came
worse and worse under the goads of persecutiou.
Yet, at this very moment, unknown Ui Elizabeth,
three or four of her bishop* were favourable to
the non-conforming ministers, in whose scruples
touching many ceremonies and practices in the
church they partook ; and iu her very council
the Earls of ISedford, Uuntingilon, and War-
wick, the Lord-keeper Bacon, Walsingham, Sad-
ler, and Knollys, incliued from conviction to the
Puritans, while Leicester, who saw that their
numbers were rapidly increasing - that iu the
great industrious towns, the strength of the peo-
ple, or lifn itat, they were becoming aroiu/ett
— intHgned with theiu underhnnil, In the view
of furthering his own ambitious projectJ*. In
the preceding year Thomas Cartwright, the IaiIj
Margaret professor of divinity at Cambridge, .uid
a muu of virtue, learning, and a ready elo-
quence, had eluctrifictl numerous andiinces by in-
culcating the unlawfulness of any form of church
government exr*pt the Pi'esbyterian, which he
maintained to have been tliat instituted by the
first apostles; and the same powerful Puritan
Boi)n liegan to make a wider wid more lasting

• Bj ths •

impression by his polemical writings. Iu the
House of Commoiu, which was so very auti-
CaUtolic, there was a large and powerful section
who agreed with Cartwright, mid who were bold
enough to show their discontent at the queen's
churcli. In this present parliament they iotn^
duced seven bills for furthering the work of rv-
formation and for extirpating wliat they con-
sidered as crying abuses. Elizal>eth waa furious;
and, iu her own way, she conuuauded Strickland,
the mover of the bills, to absent himself from the
house, and await the orders of her privy council.
But Strickland's friends, who were beginning to
feel their strength, moved that he should be
called to the bar of the house, au<l there made
to state the reason of his absence. And as this
reason was no secret to them, they proceeded to
declare that the privileges of parliament buti
been violated in his person ; that^ if such a mea-
sure was submitted to, it would form a daugeroua
precedent; that the queen, of heraelf, could nei-
ther make nor break the laws. This housf.
said they, which has the faculty of determiuiug
the right to the crown itaelf, ia certainly compe-
tent to treat of religious ceremonies and church
discipline. The ministers were astounded, and,
after a cousultatiou apart, the speaker proposed
that the debate should be suspended. The house
rose, but on the very next morning, Strickland
re-appeared iu his place, and was received with
cheers! Elizabeth's caution had prevailsJ over
her anger; but she felt as it her royal preroga-
tive bad been touched, and her antipathy to the
Puritan party increased. In a political ssnse
this was agreat revival; and the base servility of
inrliament would hardly have been cur«d but
for the religious enthusiasm. The case of Stnck-
land was the first of many victories obtained over
the despotic principle— the Brat great achieve-
ment of a chiss of men who, in their evil and in
their good, worked out the cause of constitu-
tional liberty (o a degree which very few of them,
even at a later period, foresaw. At the end of
the session not all Elizabeth'it prudence could
restrain her wrath. At her ^mmaud, the Lunl-
keeper Bacon informed the i^uniinous that their
conduct had been strange, unbecoming, and uu-
dutiful ; that, as they had foi^tteu thenutelves,
they should be otherwise remeuibered; and that
the ipieen's highness did utterly disallow anil
condemn their folly, in meddliug with thiugx
not ap|>ei'taining to them, nor within the ca)>ii-
city of their understanding. But this only con-
firmed ihe Puritanic suspicion that Elizabeth,
in conjunction with some of her bisliops, really
thought of creating herself into a aort of Pr»-
testaut poj)*, that was to decide as by t Uiviiii'
inspiration and legation iu all malUirs relating
to the next world.

»Google

1 II. 1364 - 137i.J ELIZA

Nutwtth><laiHliiig tlie otnissioiiB vmde by p&r-
liamPiit. llie bialiopa coottnued to exact a. sub-
Hcnpti>iii tn tlie whole Thirty-nine Articles, and
tn il?privc Hiicli niiniatera oa refused to aubecribe
Iheni. Pni'ker, Archbishop of Canterbury, oJso
lierwvGTed iu his persecutions, which only wanted
ail iKcsBtonal burning to render them a tolerable
tTiLiUtiaii of tlie doings in the dnys of Qaeen
Msry. The Puritan ministers were hunted out
of their churches and seized in their coDTeuticlea;
iheir hookn nere suppressed by that arbitrary
trill of the queen, which would allow of nothing
Leiug puhliflhad tliat was ofTeusive to her; they
■ ere treated harshly in all civil matters ; they
wpre constantly called before the detestable Star
Chamber; they were treated with contumely and ;
i-iilicule, and the members of their congregations <
tvere dragged before the high commission for ,
listening to their sermons and forms of prayer; '
mil whenever any one refused to conform to the i
iloctrinesof the Eatabiishment, be was committed i
to prison. There were not wanting instances of
persons being condemned to imprisonment for [
hfe, and numerous were the cases in which whole [
families of the industrious classeH were reduced to
l^ggary by these persecutions. Tliiscourt of high
rammisBioD has been compared to the luquisi-
tiaa; and, in fact, there was a great family like-
ness between them. It consislerl of bishops and
delegatea appointed by the queen, Parker, the
primate, being chief commissioner. They were
authorized to inquire into all heretical opinions;
to enforce attendance iu the Established church,
and to prevent the frequentation of conrenticlea;
to suppre^ unorthnlox and seditious books, to-
t^her with nil libels against the queen and her
government; to take cognizance of all adulteries,
fornications, and other offences liable to the ec-
clesiastical law, and to punish the offenders by
Bpiritual censures, fine, and imprisonment. Par-
ker always maintained that bold measures would
terrify the Noncouforjiiats into hia orthodoxy;
"for," s^d he, in a letter to Cecil, " I know them
to be cowards."' He never made a greater mis-
take! A very alight knowledge of history might
have taught him that people excited by religi-
ons enthusiasm are always brave. What was to
come he might hardly have foi-eseen, even if he
had made a juster estimate of theirspirit; for the
"tniggle, now begun, never ceased till the Puri-

BETH. 1 47

tans laid both mitre and crown in the dust nt
their feet.

A report had got abroad that the Queen of
Scots was sought in marriage for the l>«ke of
Anjou, one of the brothers of the French king,
and though Elizabeth held Mary in a close pri-
son, she was idarmed at this news. Iu order to
prevent any such scheme, she entered into ne-
gotiations with Charles IX,, or ratlier with his
mother Catherine de' Medici, once more pretend-
ing to offer herself as a bride. But there were
other causes which rendered the friendship of
the French court very desirable. The Hugue-
nots seemed crushed and powerless after their
defeat at Moncontour; there s^peared no hope of
their renewing the civil war in the heart of the
kingdom; and if Fiunce, at peace within lieraelf,
should throw her sword on the side of Spain and
zealously take up the Catholic cause, the result
might be dangerous, particularly at this moment,
when there was great <liscontent in England, and
when the Prateatatits at home seemed almost on
the point of drawing 'he sword against one an-
other. The sagacious Walaingham was sent over
as ambassador to France, with such complicated
instructions as must base puesled even him.
One of his principal duties was to blacken the
character of JIary; another to lengthen out the
matrimonial negotiation an much as possible,
making sure, in the meantime, not merely of a
I truce, but of a fixeil ti-eaty of peace with France.
He was also to have some by-deallnga with the
Huguenots; but he was to be more than ever
that matter, and to profess
that her majesty, his
aversion to rebellious
subjects of all kinds. After many months had
been consumed, it was said that the Duke of
Anjou declined the match because Elizabeth
insisted, as a (in« qiid non, thathe should change
his religion.' Tlien his younger brother, the boy
Duke d'Alen^on, was spoken of. In the spring
of the year 1572, Walsmgham was joined by Sir
Thomas Smith, who was sent on a special mis-
sion, and it was not till then that this new mat-
rimonial bnainesB was fairly entered npon. El'i-
zaljeth had been veied and distressed by reports
that the Duke of Anjou had declined the match
on account of certain mmours, that she had had
I two children by the Earl of Leicester, and an

'BlTTpe, I ft of Park
•f Anjm, g(<

I tusft an mallcnaiit. b cooinfie •> oowardlj, a bodj u ill jiot
England Bxpflrtuhud tnja thiA ttwtbR'. *nd it ■> noflt for aI] aart of muilf exerciHi, tbirt I
ibioanUs porbxil at Uie Diika I nuntr conld |i«iiiid« dthV that hs oould do lOTlhliig gnniDui,
■• loo asU mifltd lij i g, happU; jiiihim ths hoDoun. gmdaTum. uid gnod tbrtunta

b; the King

Ajul u toz thla prlnn whom jdq

iTTB to Roanj. aftarwuda Duke of Rullr.

And whirtB'iir Bhoir of

I luTo DO mM Ukisg Im liIn>."-8iBHmdl, B

,v Google

us

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

) MlLITART.

B iutiraacy with Sit Chriaiopher Hattfln
besides ' Walaingham wua instructed to com-
plaiu of these f 311I reports; and Catherine de' Me-
dici was fain to protest she had never believed
them.

Sir Thomas Smith sjid Walsingham, between
them, had prevented the taking of any serious
steps for the release of the captive queen, in
which, indeed, the French court hud never showed
much eamestnees.' Though allies in rehgiou,
there were many old jealousies between his most
Chrisliaii and his Catholic majesty: the English
envoys revived tliese feelings, and Mary's cor-
respondence with the Duke of Alva was turned
to good account. They told the French king
and his mother that there were letters inter-
cepted of the Queen of Scots to the duke, im-
ploring for his assistance, and ofTeriug to send
her son. Prince James, to be brought up iu Spain,
and proposing other thiiigti which would make a
)]eFpetual pique between England and Scotland,
France and Spain; and they informed Cedl that
Kiug Charles had exclaimed, in acknowledging
Mary's imprudence — "Ah! the poor fool will
never cease till she lose her head: in faith they
will put her to death ; I see it is her own fault
and foily— 1 see no remedy for it: I meant to
help, but if she will not be helped, Je ne puU
mai», that is, I cannot do withal." Charles had
indeed requested that Mary might be sent to
live in Fnuice; and had said that, by the ties of
relationship, he was bound to secure to her a
kinder and milder treatment But the captive's
HufTerings were forgotten in the bright prospect
of seeing one of his brothers married to Eliza-
beth. He agreed to leave her where she was,
and began the arrangement of an alliance ofieu-
sive and defensive with the English queeu's able
envoys, altogether disregarding the wai-ning of
his own ambaHsador, who had assured him that
Elizabeth would never marry any one.

While these negotiations had been in progress
the case of Mary had been still further com-
plicated, the hatred of Elizabeth increased, and
the whole Protestant party in England thrown
into agonies of alarm, by revelations of plots and
conspiracies. In the month of April one Charles
Bailly, a servant of the Queen of Scots, was
seized at Dover as he was returning from the
Duke of Alva with a packet of letters. The

ebunbn da U Rsjns iDnqu'dls «t mu llct, 11 (iMominr] I'Mtoit
ingiri da liv bullar U dismiie u lieu de b dnmB d'hoDDCur,

la Uallu fViuton. Tlia imtinindrrr u;i Itut, It Die ijutigitlon
uT tfaa Eul gf Aruodal ud olLan, Iha Dul-c ctT A'd'>U: hul 'iin.
lund to compUiD of Uuh hmlllultlaa to ttie qimn hnnaU I

t WiUugliam vu Inalmctad ta bj that Hu? i>u kiadlj
traaMdud libanlljauppUad witb aTarytlilcgi but L> Mnttas
Ftafkm had InfOrmad hla amrt tbil >be aaa hanhl; tiatsd.

Bishop of KoHS ingeniously cjntrived to exchange
these letters for uthen of an insignificant kind,
which were luiil before the council; but Eliza-
beth and her ministers sent Baill; to the Tower
aud to the rack.' Under torture Bailly con-
fessed that he tiad received the packet from
Budolfi, formerly an Italian banker iu London,
and that it contained assurances that the Dake
of Alva entered into the captive queen's cause,
and approved of her plan for a foreign invasion
of England — that, if authorized by the King
«f Spain, his master, he should be ready to co-
operat« with 40 and 30. Bailly said he did not
know the parties designated by the ciphers 40
and 30, but that there was a letter in the packet
for the Bishop of Ross, desiring him to deliver
the other letters to the proper parties. Suspi-
cion immediately fell upon the Duke of Norfolk.
That nobleman had Iain iu the Tower from the
9th of Octolier, 1569, till the 4th of August, 1570
(the day on which Felton was arraigned for the
affair of the bull of excommunication), when he
was removed in custody to one of his own houses,
in consequence of the plague having broken out
iu the Tower. Some time before this delivery
he made the moat humble submission to the
queen, beseechiug her most gracious goodness to
accept him again iuto favour to serve her in any
manner that it should please her to direct and
command. He acknowledged himself in fault for
that he did unhappily give ear to certain motions
in a cause of marriage to be prosecuted for him
with the Queen of Scots ; " but surely," he adds,
"I never consented thereto into any respect,
save upon reasons that were propounded to in-
duce me for your highuess's beueht aud surety."
He theu solemnly binds himself to have nothiug
more to ilo with the marriage or with anything
that concerns Queen Mary.' Cecil lad lung since
assured the queen that it would be -sei-y difficult

ake high treason of anythiug Norfolk bad
done as yet. Of course the duke, though he
had been teu months a prisoner, had never been
brought to any trial, but only interrogated and
cross-questioned by the lords of Uie privy coun-
cil. Nor did he even now obtain much more
than a milder sort of imprisonment. He was
watched aud closely warded in his own house by
Sir Henry Nevil; he was afterwards removed
to the house of another noblema:i devoted to the

t, and then to another, and auother, being
everywhere in custody or closely watthed. He
petitioned the queen, Cecil, aud others, to be re-
stored to his seat in the council;— this was re-

i him ; and it was a ihing which the sove-
reign, having the free choiue of her counsellors,
might refuse without the infringement of law or
constitutional right. He requested that he might

J Burghlry Popm.

»Google

A.O. 1564—1572.] ELIZA

lie permitted to attend in liisplucem guu-lituneDt;
imt ttiiu also was refiued, and illegally, for he
had beeu convicted of no treason, no crime by
law. If Norfolk bad been ever bo well inclined
to ke«p hia engagement, this was certainly the
vaj to make Lini break it in sheer deiiperatiou.
Upon the arrest of Bailly he was more closely
looked to; but some mouths elapsed before the
matter was brought to his own door. At the
eud of August, 1971, one Brown, of Shrewsbury,
curried to the privy council a certain bag full
of money, which he s^d he had received from
Hickford, the Duke of Norfolk's secretary, with
directions to cany it to Bannister, the dnke's
steward. The lords opened the bag, andcounted
the money, which amounted to i'SIO. But there
ttas soBiething else in the bag that gave them
n>ore trouble, iu the shape of two tickets, or
Doles, wntten in cipher. As Bi-own named Hick-
ford, the poor secretary was apprehended, and un
the 2d of September, he deciphered the two notea,
which, with the money, were destined for Lard
Berries in Scotland, who was making fresh ex-
ertioDB there with her party iu favour of the cap-
live qaeen. SirRalph Sadler wasimmediately sent
for to guard the Duke of Norfolk, who was then
at Howard House; where, on the 5th of Septem-
lier, on a strict examination, he denied all that
Hickford had confessed. Two days afterwards
lie was committed to hia old apartment in the
Tower.' In the meanwhile Bauniater,aud Barker,
another secretary of the duke's, bad been ur-
reated; and as the Bishop of Boas had long been
iu custody with the Bishop of London, the Bishop
of Ely, and others, it was easy to lay hold of
him.' Hickford did not stop at betraying the
key to the ciphers; he confessed niauy other
things against his master the duke, without
much pressing, and voluntarily offered to show
Kome secret places iu his house where his master
had deposited letters. As the rest of Norfolk's
servants were much attached to their luaster,
nod would, confess nothing till they were tor-
tured, or threatened with torture, it has been
supposed by many that this Hickford had been
fur Slime time iu the pay uf the court Banuis-
Ur's fortitude and fidelity did not give way til!
be had suffered torture, bnt Barker's forsook him
when he was shown the horrid rack. On the
9>th of September Sir Thomas Scuith, the matri-
monial diplomatist, wrote to Cecil, now Lord
Bnrghley,' in a plensant humour, "We have,"

It thfl BoQt^ bUhcpp wu n^

lucnatffl BuoD Bnighlej in 1911.
ilaof WindiaUru luid lii|h-tnuun

BETH. 149

said he, "good hope, at last, that we may come
home : we tbiuk surely, that we have done all
that at this time may be done, Uf Bannister
with the rack, of Barker with the extreme fear
of it, we suppose to have gotten all. BoDDlster,
indeed, kiioweth little. . . , Barker wan common
doer in the practice, but rather, it may seem,
chosen for zeal than for wit."' He then proceeds
to telt the upright Cecil that he and his coadju-
tors bad been putting Barker's confessions into
proper order— that is, they had been tampering
with the evidence which they had procured by
threatening a weak and silly man with the rack.
Barker confessed sundry other things, in a most
confused way, which went to prove that Norfolk
had never intermitted hia correspondence with
the Scottish queen, neither during his first con-
fineroent in the Tower nor after his release from
that prison — that he had corresponded with the
friends of Mary iu Scotland by means of the
Bishop of Ross, and with the Duke of Alva by
means of fiudolfi, who had once delivered to
him a letter from the pope. Although Smith
had asserted that Bannister knew little, they
made his evidence declare a good deal, and so
shaped it as to make It agree with that of Barker
and Hickford. When it came to the turn of the
Bishop of Boss to l>e questioned, that prelate
was found deficient in the nerve and courage
which he had recommended to Bailly; but it is
much easier to excuse his want of fortitude than
the atrocity of his inquisitors. The bishop
claimed the privileges of an ambassador, assert-
ing tliat, even if he had been somewhat impli-
cated, he wns not licible to their jurisdiction,
Iwing the representative of an independent sove-
reign; but Loi-d Burghley cut him short, by say-
ing that he must answer or be put upon the r^k.'
Then the bishop wavered, but still be did not
confess until he was told that his depositions
were merely required to satisfy the mind of
Queen Elizabeth, and should not be used agMUSt
the life of any inau. The duke had continued to
di-ny everything, .-is at first, " with such confi-
dence and ostentation," say Sir Thomas Smith
and Dr. Wilson, "that he did astonish un all,
and we knew not how we should judge of him."
But when the commissioners showed him the
confession of Barker and his otiier servants,
the letters of the Queen of Scots, of which they
bad obtained possession through Hickford and
! Barker, and the deposition of the Bishop of Ross,
he exclaimed that be was betrayed and undone
by his couGdence in others, and began to confess
to sundry minor charges; for he never allowed
that he had contemplated treason against bis sove-
reign. Upwards of fifty interrogatories were
put to him in one day; hut the purport of the

■ I

»Google

150

HISTOHY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

1 Military.

disclosnres which were then mcule is unlcn<
as the waniiuation cannot be found.'

But the rumoura which were xeiit Abroad be-
yond the <iungeon-c«lla and the vnlla of tlie
Tower, and iiidnstriously'apread among the peo-
ple, were of a terrific nature. Tlie Duke of Alva
was coming with an army of bloo<ly Pnpiats to
bum down London, and exterminate the qiieen,
the Protestant religion, and all good Protestants;
and the pope wan to send the treasurea of Borae to
forward these deeds, and was to bless theni when
(lone. Everi- wind might bring legions of ene-
niiea tothe British coast; every town in England,
every bouae, might conceal some desperate trai-
tor and cruel Papist, Imimd by secret oaths to
join the invadera, and direct their slaughter and
their bnrning; so that none should escape that
professed the true religion, and none suffer that
bore the marks of the beast of Rome. A won-
derful alarm was eicited by one Herle, who dis-
closed what was called a plot for murdering some
of her majesty's privy council.' Kenelm Barney
and Edmund Mather, men as obscure as himself,
were put upon their metal in the Tower, Hfi'le,
their former associate, being witness against them.
All that could be proved i^inst them was, that
they were two contemptible scoundrels (eacli
ready to betray the other), who were discon-
tented with the court and the present govern-
ment, which gave no promotion except to such
" a^ were perfumed and court-like," tneauing audi
men as I>eice3ter and Hatton;and who had talked
in public-houses and lodging-houses about rescu-
ing the Duke of Norfolk from the Tower and
from certain deatli. Little confiilence can l>c
placed in the revelations of such men, whose
imaginations were stretched by the rack and the
dread of death. But on the trial Mather and
Barney were convicted ou the strength of their
joint contefiflions, and on the evidence of Herle.
They were drawn from the Tower to Tyburn,
and there hanged, bowelled, and quartered, for
treason. Herle received a foil pardon.'

Much time had beens[>entiu preparing forthe
public trial of the Duke of Norfolk ; but at length,
on the I4th of January, nearly a month before
the executions Inst alluded to, the queen named
the Earl of Shrewsbury, the keeper of Queen
Mary, to be lord high-steward; and Shrewsbury
summoned tweuty-six peers, selected by Elizabeth

an<l her ministerijto attend in Westminster Hall
on the 16th day of the same month. Among
these were included, with other members of Eli-
zabeth's privy council, Burghley who had been
active in an-anging the prosecution, and the Earl
of Leicester, who bad originally excited Noi-folk
to attempt a marriage with the Seotf iali queen,
who had signed the letter to Mary, .-ind who was
now athirst for the blood of tlie unfornnate pri-
soner, his miserabledupe. Ou the day appointed
the peers met in Westminster Hall at an early
hour in the moniing, and the duke was brought
to the bar by the lieutenant of the Tower ami
Sir Peter Carew. The lonls were assisted by tbo
judges and all the law officers of the crown.
About half-past eight the loi-d high-Bt«ward stood
up at his chair bare-headed, and the gentleman-
usher holding the white rod before him, the ser-
jeant-at-arms made prociamation. The duke,
with a haughty look perused the countenances of
all the lords, first those on the right hand of the
lord high-steward and then those on the left.
After a fretih proclamation of silence, the clerk
of the crown called njwn the dnke,—" Thomas,
Duke of Noi-folk, late of Kenninghall, in the
county of Norfolk, hold up thy hand." The duke
held up his liand, and then the indictment was
read, charging him with comjtassing and imagin-
ing the death of the queen, with levying war
against her within Ihe realm, ^nd with adhering
to the queen's public enemies. The overt acts
charged were; — " Ist. That, against the express
command of the queen upon his allegiance, he
had endeavoured to many the Queen of Scots,
and supplied her with money, well knowing that
she claimed a present title to the crown of Eng-
land ; 2d. Tliat he had sent sums of money to the
Earls of Westmoreland and Northumberland,
and other pemons concerned in the rebellion in
the north ; 3d. That he had despatched one Itii-
doifi to the pope, to the King of Spain, and the
Duke of Alva, in onler to excite them to send a
foreign army into England, to join with such «
force as he, the Duke of Norfolk, might raise for
the purpose of making war against the queen
itbin the realm, with intent to depose her, and
effect his own marriage with the Queen of
Scots; 4th. That he had relieved and comforted,
with money and otherwise, the Lord Herries and
other Scots, being the queen's public

i would proWbL)' lun bHb cuvftiJJj pn ' ebe in coming U
7t thb tuiocH wu glTSD bf Herle in ■ blood) ■ deal," u

ni >rith ■ eliot upon tb* tanca, ar
lb* oonTt, irilh ■ plilol." tl* Uxa

letter to lonl B

7<>nr Rurden. tohireiUln font lord^lp. The'blch notfUlen | i
Dill, luiil fontlnnlBf Id UiefomieTniHhlit, the htdgbt of jnxir ' i
itudj' vtudaw !• takni lovud* the (uisn, Diiadtnc U thej |

, Mr. Wright |mb1ialiH mrmnl lellen, if
bf Herle to Biirghl»', on ircnr eUl* mittD

»Google

i.D 1564—1572.] E

Tbe dukf besought tU« lords, if tb« law would
permit it, thai be oiight be allowed counael.
(JatUue, the chief-justice, told him that the kw
lU'twed iiu counsel in cases of high trSBdOD. Upou
'Il14 Norfolk complained that he \iaa hardly
liuidled. " I have hnd," said ho, " very short
warniug to provide an aaewer to so great a mat-
ter— not fourteen hours in all, both day and
luglit, I have had short waruiug aud uo books;
neither boi>ks of statutes, nor so much as a bre-
viate nf the statutes. I am brought to fight
without a weii]M>n." He said that he na
unlearned Diaii— ^ihat he hoped that they would
utit overlay him with speeches; that his memo
waa uever good, but now much worse than
was. The duke, however, showed no Lick of
memory and ready wit, aud his acquaintance
with the statutes and with Braclon was such
that the attorney-gen eml thought proper to b
him with his nice kuowlcflge of the litw. lie
pleaded Dot guilty, nuiintatuiug— Ist. Thut the
(jueen of Scots was not the enemy or competitor
of his sovereign ^that, nn the death of her hus-
band, the French kiug, she put away the title of
Queen of England — that, though her aaaumption
'if that titlit was now cited fls the sole proof of
her being au pnemy, and having always been
u> enemy, yet the queen, his mistress, had had
friendaliip witli her during the ten years which
had elapeed since that olTeuce, stoiidtug godmo-
ther to her Bon, aud doing other kind otficca, and
that, therefore, iu trying to marry the Scottish
queen, or in aasiating her, he was not guilty of
treaaou. 2d. That he had never spoken with Ru
dolfi the Italian but once, and then only regard-
ing some- private loan and banking business;
bearing from him, indeed, that he (Rudolfi) wa.i
intending to seek aid of money among the friends
of the Scottish queen, but, ss he (the duke) un-
deratood him, not for the purpose of levying war
in England with this money, hut merely that it
might be applied by Mary to her own comfort
■ud the encouragement of her own faithful sub-
jects in Seothmd. ad. That he had uever sup-
plied the English rebels in the north with money
at the time of their insurrection, although he
acknowledged having since sent some assistance
to the Countess of Westmoreland, who waa his
ewn flister.and in the greatest distress; aud that
he had given his opinion as to the proper mode
of distributing certain sums which had been
■ent into (loudei's by the pope for the relief of
the noble English exiles. He admitted that a
letter from the pope, of about six or seven lines
in l*tin, and banning, Diieciefili, laialvin, had
been delivered to him ; but he said that he was
olfeiided with this liberty, and asked what he
had to do with the pope, who was an enemy to
iu> religiou and his country I

BETH. 1 ."H

Norfolk, who in his early life had been the
pupil of the puritanic fox, the martyrologiat, and
whu had always passed for a good Protestant,
vowed rej)eatedly on his trial that ha would r.i-
ther be torn to pieces by wild horses than enter-
tain for a moment the notion of any change of
religiou, Evei7thin? (he duke said was declared
to be false, and was met by the written deposi-
tions(all cobbledaud garbled)of his servants and
accomplices. When he objected to such evi-
dence he waa told that the oaths of the wituessea,
who had sworn to all they alleged, were worth
more than his bare denial. He demanded to be
personally confronted with the witnesses ; but
thin waa denied to him. There was, indeed, one
witness produced, but he had kuown neither
fhains nor torture; he was an agent who had
been employed by theEurl of Leicester to ensnare
the prisoner, and it woulij have been well for the
decency of the process if he hud been kept out qf
sight altogether. We have mentioned iu what
manner the evidence of the Bishop of Rosa had
been extracted: Dr. Wilson, the master of the
requests, and who, with Sir Thomas Smith, had
taken his depositious, wanted him to appear iu
court and give hia evidence orally, but, lacking
in courage as he was, the bishop refused, saying,
"I never conferred with the duke myself iu any
of these matters, but only by his servaute, nor
yet heard him apeak one word it any tinie against
his duty to his prince and country; and if I shall
be forced to be present, 1 will publicly profess
before the whole nobility that he never opened
his mouth maliciously or traitorously against the
queen or the realm.* Norfolk repeatedly said
that the bishop was a very timid man — that
Barker was a timid man — that only Bannister
had courage united to fidelity, and that he was
"shrewdly cramped' when he made the false
confession they produced. And then Barham,-
the queen's Serjeant, moat impudently asserted
that Bannister had been no more tortured than
the duke himself had been. The famous letter
Ipating Norfolk, wi'itten by Moray, the late
regent, was read in court, together with a letter
said to have been sent by the duke to Moray,
without going into any proof of the genuineness
of those documents.' A great deal of the evi-
dence went u[ion mere hearsay, and that at second

third hand, but the strangest thing of all— the
grossest possible interference of the queen — oc-
curred in enforehig that particular part of the
prosecution which related to the Rudolfi conspi-
racy. The solicitor-general stood up, and said,
"1 have also, my lords, one thing more to say to
you from the queen's own mouth. The lords of

»Google

153

HISTOKV OF ENGLAND.

[Civil AND Miutabv.

tlie privy council do know it very well, but it U
not meet here, in open presence, to be ottered,
because it toucheth otheni that ok not here now
to be named; but, by her bighness'a order, we
pray their loi'dHbips that they will impart it unto
you more p.-irt.iciilarly. In Flanders, by the am-
bnMiador o[ a foreign prince, the whole plot of
this treason was discnvered; and a servant of his,
not roeaniug to conceal so foul anil diahonoiirable
a practice, gave intelligence hither by letters.
But I refer the more particular declaration
thereof to the peera of the privy council,'' No
objection was mined by any one to this strange
declaration; on the contrary, they all acted ae if
it were decisive of the case, and at eight o'clock
at night, when the trial had lasted twelve hours,
tlie peera unanimously returned a verdict of
guilty. Then the edge of tlie axe was turned
towards the duke, and the loid-atewKrd said—
"Tboma8,Duke of Norfolk, the lords, your peers,
having now found you guilty, what have you to
Bay why I may not proceetl to jndgraentr The
duke replied, "The Lord's will be done, and God
be judge between me and mine accusers:" and
then the lord high-steward, wiih tears in his eyes,
pronounced judgment:— "Thomas, late Duke of
Norfolk, you have been indicteJ of high treason,
and my lords, your peers, have found you guilty:
therefore, this court doth award that you betaken
hence to the Tower of London, and from thence
be drawn through the midat of London to Ty-
burn; and there you shall be hanged till you 'be
half dead, and being alive you shall be cut down
quick, your bowels shall be taken forth of your
Ixxly, and burned before your face ; your liead
shall be smitten ofT, and your body shall be di-
vided into four quarters; your head and quar-
ters to be set up where it shall please the queen's
niBJeety to appoint: and the Lord have mercy
upon your soiil." Then the duke said, "This,
my lord, is the judgment of a traitor; but (strik-
ing himself bard upon the breast) I am a true
man to God and the queen as any that liveth,
and always have been so.''

We are not informed as to the countenance
and behaviour of Leicester, who eat through the
trial and Toted thp dex'h of his confiding and
generous-hearted victim.

The mode in which a case of coustructive trea-
son was made up will auord a curious exercise
to the mind, and may be studied at length with
some advantage.' But, after all, it will not he
easy to arrive at any clenr notion of the extent
of Norfolk's imprudence or guilt. That the Rii-
dolfi conspiracy compassed and imagined the
overthrow of Elizabeth, in part by the aid of

foreign arms anil foreign money, there can be
little doubt; but it would have been DO uuuaual
case if the conspirators bad cloaked and concealed
their extremest views from the duke, who was
evidently a tool in the hands of more crafty,
more daring, and inveterate plotters. If he were
privy to the conspiracy in its full extent — which
he always denied, and which was never proved
against hira by unsuspected evidence— he was
guilty at the least of misprision of treason. He
Ls to have had a thoroughly English heart;
not only a patriotic feeling for the indepen-
dence of bis country, but also many of the pre-

iling national prejudices against foreigners of
all kinds, not excepting even the Scota. Our
own impression is, that he contemplated nothing
more than the reinstating of Mary, the sharing
in her authority in Scotland, and in her hopes of
the English succeiMion on Elizabeth's death. As
a man of honour (if we may speak of anch a
character in such a time), the worst part of his
conduct was his breaking bis word to Elizabeth;
but even there be was goaded and maddened by
her harsh usage, beset by agents ever ready to
work on his susoeptible temper, and fasdnaled
by the letters and messagea of Mary.

But, though thus condemned, Elizabeth hesi-
tated to inflict capital punishment on so popular
a nobleman, who was her own kinsman, and who
had been for many yean her tried friend. Five
days after his trial the duke wrote a long letter
to her majesty, confessing that he had been un-
dutiful, that he had most unkindly offended; but
he stiU denied that he had ever contemplateil
treason. He told the queen that be was now
but as " a dead dog' in this world, and preparing
himself for a new kingdom— that he would not
ask her for life, but only beseech her to extend
her merciful goodness to his poor orphan chil-
dren. Elizabeth insidiously urged him to make
an ample confession, and accuse others; but this
Norfolk nobly refused, even when pleading for
his children. "Tlie Lord knoweth," he says,
"that I myself know no more than I have lieen
charged withal, nor much of that, although, I
humbly beseech God and your majesty to forgive
me, I knew a great deal too much. But if it bail
pleased your highness, whilst I was a man iu
law, ♦" have commanded my accusers to have
been brought to my face, although of my own
knowleilge I knew no -nore than I have particu-
larly confeB8ed,yet, if it had ple.tsed your majesty,
there mi^ht jtPi'chance have Uilted out somewhat
amongst tliem which might have made nomc-
wbat for mine own purgntion, and your highncw
perchance hove thereby known that which is now
imiliscovered. . . . Now, an if it please your ma-
jesty, it is t4Mi late for me to come face to face U>
do you any service; the one boing a shamelesH

»Google

A.D. 1564—1572] ELIZA

Scot, Bud the other an Italiniiified Eoglislimai],'
their faces will be too brazen to yield to any
truth that I sh&ll charge them Tvith." ' This let-
ter WM written fmin the Tower on the 23J of
Jaiiiiary. Ou Saturday, the 8Ch of February,
Elizabeth signed the warrant for the duke'a exe-
ciiljaa on the Monday following; but at a Ute
tioar on Sunday night she summoned to her pre-
sence the wily Bui'ghley, who had been earueat
with her to permit the law to take its course.
The queen, accordiug to Biirghley's own words,
"now entered into a great misliking that the
duke ahould die the next day, and said »he nim.
and should be, disquieted, and that she would
Lave a new warrant made that very night to the
sheriffn, t« forbear ttutil they should hear further ;
and BO they did."' Auotlier waiTunt was couu-
ternianded in the same manner, and a third, ob-
tained, as the queen gave out, by importunate
coBnsel, on the 9th of April, was recalled with
her own hand at two o'clock in the moraiDg. She
was evidently most anxious to lighten the odium
of the execution, or to shift it from herself. The
preachers, who had of late received regular poli-
ticnl inHtructions from her council, took up the
matter, and, unmiudful of the evangelical for-
bearance, clamoured for vengeance on the duke.
Private let(«T8 were written to the same effect
to her majesty, but still she hesitated. In the
meanwhile, parliament had assembled. On the
16th of May the commons oommnnicated with
the lords, and then drew up a petition to the
throne, representing that there could be no safety
till the duke was dead. The fanatic reasoning or
declamation of the commons had a wouderful
effect out of doom — every Protestant seemed to
echo their call for blood; and at last Elizabeth
put her hand to a death-warrant, which was not
revoked. Out of regard to his high rank, the
brutal punishment awarded by the sentence was
commuted into beheading. Ou the 2d of June,
1572, at eight o'clock in the morning, the duke
was brought to a scaffold erected upon Tower-
hill, attended by Alexander Nowel, deau of St,
Paul's, and Foi, the martyrologiat, who had for-
meriy been his tutor. Dr. Nowel desired the
multitude to keep silence; after which the duke
made a dying speech, which was nearly always
expected, if not forcibly exacted, on such occa-
sions. He proceeded to confess neither more nor
leas than he bud done on his trial; to aver that
he had never been Popishly inclined, tlio ugh some
of his servants and acqiuiintance were addicted
to the Romish religion. Then, after the reading
of a psalm or two, he said, with a loud voice,
"Lord Jesua, into thy hands 1 commend my ipiiut.'
The headsman asked the duke's forgiveness, and

I AUodtiw to Iht BlihD|i Dt Rw ud B«k«.
' AvfUir Popfr*, • IbHL

Vol. IJ.

BETH. ] ,53

had it granted. One offering him a handkerchief
to cover his eyes, he refused it, saying, "I am
not in the least afraid of death." He then fell on
his knees, pniyini^, and presently he stretched hin
neck across the block, and his head, at one blow,
was cut off, and showed by tiie executioner to
the sorrowing and weeping multitude.' "It is
incredible," continues Camden, a spectator of the
sad scene, " how deai'Iy he was loved by the
people, whose good-will he had gniued by a
princely muniSeence and extraoi-dinary affabili-
ty. They called likewise to mind the uutimeiy
end of his father,' a man of extraordinary leam-
i[ig, and famous in war, who was beheaded in the
same place five and twenty years before,'

But the Protestants, whose wiM alarms had
not yet subsided, were ea^r for a still greater
sacrifice, and tliey turned a reiidy ear to an anony-
mous casuist, who proved, in his own way, that
it stood, not only with juatice, but with the hon-
onr and safety of Elizabeth, to send the unfortu-
nateQueenof Scotsto the scaffold; and to another
writer, who supported his arguments with num-
berless texts of Scripture, all made to prove that
Mary had been delivered, into the hands of Eli-
zabeth by a special providence, and deserved to
die the death, because she was guilty of adultery,
murder, conspiracy, treason, and blasphemy, and
because she was an idolater, and led others to
idolatry,* Both houses would have proceeded
rtgaiiist the captive by bill of attainder, but Eli-
zabeth interfered, and they were obliged to rest
satisfied with passing a law to make her unable
and unworthy of succession to the crown of Eng-
land.' The captive queen had been restored to
her old prison in Tutbury Caatle immediately
after the defeat of the Earl of Northumberland,
and, after some hurried removes to Chatsworth
and other places, she was now at Sheffield Castle,
in the tender keeping of Sir Balph Sadler and
my Lady Shrewsbury, who both wished her in her
grave, and seized the opportunity afforded by the
trial and condemnation of Norfolk to exult over
her sufferings, and insult her to her face.

But Mary had soon to weep for more blood.
The Earl of Northumberland, after lying more
than two years a prisoner in Lochleven Castle,
was basely sold to Elizabeth by the execrable
Morton, who, during his own exile in England,
liad tasted largely of the northern earl's hospi-
Ulity and generosity. This transaction was the
finishing touch to the character of the murderer

> Tin ucoinplUhed Eul ot SnmT, tlw iMt doU« rlntliD of
Uiabsth'i ttOtar. • VSicu.

• Google

134

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil Aim Ucutabt.

of Rizzio. He permitted WlUUm Douglas, the
lAird of Lochleven, to enter into ii negotiation
with the exiled Countess of Nortliumbcrland for
llie liberation of her husband. Two thousand
pounda, the price agreed upou, was de|>08ited by
the countess at Antwerp. Morton, at tlie same
time, drove another bargain witli Elizabeth. In
tlie month of June or July tlie uufortuiiate earl
was carried on boai'd a veHael to proceed, as he
vae told by these infernal traitors, to join his
dear wife in Flanders. We need scarcely add
what followed; as a matter of course he was
landed at Berwick, the first English port; from
Berwick lie was couduc:ted to York, and there
beheaded without a trial. The earl, in the par-
lance of those times, coitUnued obstinate iu reli-
gion, and declared he would die a Catholic of the
Pope's church. Sir Thomas Gargrave, who com-
municates the particulars of the earl's execution
to Lord Burghley,add8,"Ibe8eech the Almighty
to preserve tbe queen's majesty and all good sub-
jects from their (the Papists')- deceitful and cruel
practices, the which, in my opinion, they intend,
if time would serve. They have too much liberty
and scope, and wax hard-hearted, wilful, and

In Scotland many bad forfeited their lives (or
their passionate attachment to Mary. Encouraged
and assisted by Elizabeth, the father of Darnley,
the imbecile Lennox, had established himself in
the regency. More than a year before Norfolk's
death, he gained, by surprise, the strong castle of
Dumbarton, which had held out most gallantly
for the queen. Among the prisoners taken in
that fortress was Hamilton, Archbishop of St.
Andrews, whom Lennox caused to be hanged at
Stirling without trial. The civil war than raged
more fiercely than ever. The regent, iu a parlia-
ment, attainted Secretary Majtland as one of the
assassins of hb son Daralej, and some chiefs of
the house of Hamilton for their oppo»tion to the

■ Wright, (in™

nlunlilfdHllinUi. ITbi

of PnUaUul Butholo

king's government. He osaembled a second par-
liament, with the intention of passing more at-
tainders, but his own hour was come. The Earl of
Huntly, Lord Claude Hamilton, and Scott of
Buccleucb, secretly assembled 600 men, made a
night march, and got posseaaion of the town of
Stirling without opposition. The Hamiltons,on
their onslaught, cried, "Bemember the arch-
bishop!" for the prelate of St. Andrews was of
their kindred, though only illegitimately so.' In
a few moments they broke open the lodgings of
Che ptinci{)al lords of the regent's faction, and
made them ail prisoners, together with Lennox
himself. It was the intention of the insurgents
to convey their capUves to Edinburgh Castle,
which was stitl in their hands ; but Morton
escsj«d, barricaded his bouse, and made a vigor-
ous resistancei tlie burghers of Stirling rose upon
theintruders; some troops arrived under the Earl
of Mar, and the victors found themselves ob-
liged to turn and flee. One of the Hamiltons,
determined that the regent should not escape,
bade him remember the archbishop, and shot
him through the head. As another regent was
now wanting, the lords nominated the Earl of
Mar— a man far too honourable for those men
and those times. Morton had more power than
the new regent, and was the devoted friend and
servant of Elizabeth, whom he obeyed in ail par-
ticulars. But, in spite of Morton and Elizabeth,
the banner of Mary still floated over the walla of
Edinburgh Qistle ; and in the mountains of the
north the Gordons and other Highlaudera kept
her cause liugetdng on.

Under the able management of Watsiogham
and Sir Thomas Smith, the treaty with IVance
had been concluded in the month of April, ISTS,
about six weeks before the Duke of Norfolk's
execution. The French king bound himself tu
give Elizabetli aid in all cases of invasion what-
soever; but Elizabeth did sot show any readiness
in proceeding with the matrimonial treaty, which
was interrupted and renewed several times, and
altogether ingeniously prolonged for tlie ^>ace of
ten years.

« Dnk« of ChiUllciuill, tin

»Google

CHAPTER XVIII.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— A. d. 1572—1587.

Wnnm-r- ol St. BuUiolomsw— Inildii

■acompauisd— FuUawnl b; ui ontorr
in ScoilsDd— Death of Cbarlm IX oC 1
in tha y«tberUndB— Eliubeth aid* thi
conduct — Tbe dake

EUZABETB.

of Hie Frenoh court to iffsot it— Atrocitiu witL vhicb it wu
EngUud for Mkiya de&th — Birl of Morton sitccsedi to the TSgeoc;
mm, and aocenion of hia brothsr Hear; III.— War foi iDdepandence
ivolt— She ii ngun soaght in muritge by ths Daks of Aojau- Usr
ita EogUod — rronblei in Iraluid — Flotiuid outbreak! aguDit the
Engliih ucondODCy— Adkire in 9eatUDd-^un«' »i!y fkTouritea — Tbejproaaro tbe downtkll of tbe Earl of
Morton — Hif aiecu Won— Intrigues in Scotland tor tha Ubecation of Miry — Tba " baid of Ruthroa" — AUrnia
at Popish coasiiiiaoiaB in England- Eisoatioo* of Fapiiti — The ThroctiaiortoD plot — EiecutioD of Frwicu
Ilkiockmorton — Fraah penal itatatgs against tbe Papbtn — Naval exploits of the Bagliah agtuoBt the Spaniards
in Annrioa— Elizabeth aidi tha Netbeiluida againat Spain — Tha Babington conspiracy — Detection and exe-
ootion of the coaspintora — Earl of Leiceator'B proposal to poiraa Qnaea Mtxj — Treatmeot of ISnzj in her
difrerent priaooa— She is charged with being aoceasoiy to Babington's conspiracy— Her denial of the charge —
Deogn annonaead to bei of bringing her to trial— The trial held at Fotheringay Castle— She is charged with
coDOpiiing the death of Elizabeth— Her ansver and dafenoe — The Attampte to inculpate har — She is pronounced
gniltT and santenoed to die — Popular triumph at tbs aeataaoe — Mary's heroistu — Fraitleu interposition of
Henry III. to save her— Apathjof James, her eon— Intriguea to thwart his applioations in her behalf —
iniiabetli's irreeolotion to conGnn Hiry's sentence— She at last aigna it— Elizabeth's attempts to throir tha
blame on olhera — Uary'B conduct on receiving the aentance — Her praparationa for death — Her execution —
Eliabath's hypocritical conduct on receiving tidings of the eiecntion.

I) HE English queen hnd been feast-
at Kenilworth C'lutle wilhtht
Eart of Leicester, iwd had reached
Woodatock on her wny homeward,
when she received the dismal intel-
ligence of the maeaacre of St. Bar-
tholomew, at Purls. The late paciScaCioQ be-
tween the French Catholics and Huguenots had
been aa hollow afi all tbe preceding onea. The
nominal head of the Huguenots waa the voung
King of Nararre, afterwards Henry IV. of
France; but the real leader was the veteran
ligny. Admiral of France. In the spring of 1571,
King Charles professed a wonderful engemesa to
reconcile the two parties, and offered the hand of
his sitter to Henry of Navarre. At the i
time, he tempted CoUigiiy with the offer of the
command of a great Freni^h army to be sent '
FlandeiB to co-operate with the Prince of Orange
against the King of Spain. In the summer of
the same year, Charles again eameatlj solicited
the admiral to repair to court, writing to him
with his own hand, and secdiug the letter, backed
by warm solicitations from the adiiiirarg near
relations, by the hands of Teligny, the admiral's
son-in-law. The admiral, in the autumn of 1571,
went to Bloia, where Charles was keeping hiH
court. He was received with all honour — was
restored to all his former dignities, and the king
called him " Father.' Meanwhile the match be-
tweeu Henry of Navarre and the Princess Mar-
paet went on; and on the ISth of August of the
prewat year (1572) the marriage was celebrated
at Parii. Colligny and a great number of the

Protestant lords attended. The three following
days were spent in festivity. On the fourth day
(Friday, the 22d ot August) the admiral attended
a privy council, after which he went to the tennis-
yard with the king, the Duke of Quise, and others
of the court. As he walked thence homeward
through the streets an arquehuae was dischai^ed
at him from the window of a house occupied by
a dependant of the Dulce of Guise. He was
struck in two places, but neither of the wounds
was dangerouB. The Huguenots crowded to his
house nttering menacing language against the
Ouises, for they suspected that the Ihike of
Guise had directed the blow in revenge for the
death of his father, who had been assassinated
by Poltrot, the Huguenot, at the siege of Or-
leans.' On Saturday, the 23d, the queen-mother
held secret conferences in the Louvre, and after
dinner, or about uoon, she entered tlie king's
chamber, where her other son, the Duke of Anjou,
and several lords soon joined her. All united in
representing to Cliarles that the Huguenots were
at that moment plotting his destruction, and that,
if he did not destroy them before night, he and
his whole family would be sacrificed liefore the
next morning. According to his own account, he
thereupon gave a reluctant consent to a general
lacre, the execution of which was intrusted

Colllgnr. The nugoenot* rfi
iona as nail as ths Csthnlla. NsaH^ fOur jaars bafoie this
LtLompted SMSBliisMiiii of Colligny, ah attempt wsa mads to
uiinlcraiHilhsrafQinen >lafT'sanclgB,t>MCBnlinaIofLorrsln«,
Lt Rhalms.— Lettsr rrvm Blr Henry Norrls to Caidl,(iTED bf

itigiit.

,v Google

1S6

HISTORY OF ENGLANn.

[Civil ahd Military.

to the Uukeaof Oui^;, Anjnn.and Aumal^Mon-
tespSD, and Mimlial Tuviinaes, vho are gene-
rally believed to have arranged the whole plan
befoi-eband with the queen - mother. ChArlee
atid Catherine then went to an open bnlcoiiy to
await the result, the young king trembling all
over. At a, concerted signal — the toUing of the
church bell of St. Qennuin I'Auxerrois — the work
at blood began. The house of Culligny was buret
open, and he and all in it were murdered. The
butchers threw the bodies out of the windows iuto
the etreeta, where they were treated with brutal
indignity: and theu the tocaiu was «ounde<l from
the parliament house, calling upon the people to
protect their religion and their king. Foi-thwith
idl Paris resounded with the horrid cries of
"Death to the Utiguenota!— Kill every man
of them!— killl— kill!" And the ProteatonU,
wherever they could be found, were atrociously
slaughtered^ men, women, and children. To
wards evening proclamation was mode, by sound
of trumpet, that it was the king's wilt that the
slaught«r should cease ; but the Parisians were
drunk with blood, and the maaaacre wua partially
continued through that night and the two toUow-
iog days. Scenes of precisely the same sort were
enacted in Bouen, Lyona, and other cities. In
Paris alone, SOU men of i&nk, and nearly 10,000
of interior conditions, were butchered in cold
blood. All were not Huguenots, for many a
Catholic took this easy opportunity of despatch-
ing his personal enemy without regard to his
creed. In all France 30,000 individuals are said
to have perished on St. Bartholomew's Dny and
the days of slaughter which followed it.'

Of the French Protestants who escaped the
massacre, some threw themselves into Bochelle,
whence they cast an imploring sye towards Eng-
land: others fled across the Channel, until every
English port on the south coast was crowded with
them. The English people woidd have rushed
at once into a war to punish the treacliery and
cruelty of the French Catholics ; but Elizabeth
peremptorily forbade any of her subjects to tnke
up arms except on their own account, and as pri-
vate volunteers. She did nut recal her ambas-
sador; nay, she scarcely interrupted her matri-
monial treaty, though she was glad to have on
opportunity of telling the French court that a
visit to England, which had been projected for
her young suitor, the DukeofAlen^n, would not
be desirable in the prescut temper of her people.*

■ nu nunxinr of the deod is TArionilj alAtfld, locordinr (a
t)iBnU(ioDaflher«rtlai>riIiDg. HttOOO. 10,000, 40,000, TO.OOO,
100.B0O: D« ThDii, Adriuii, Da l^mg. ftnd Iha uithar of n

■' tliit ruitbtr pan] vhich

One at the firat elbeta in Eagland of the St.
Bartholomew niasBaci-e was an outciy for ttie
immediate execution of Queen Miiry, a measure
recommended by nearly the whole bench of bish-
ops, from Parker the primate downwards. On
the 5th of September, Sandys, Bishop of London,
proposed to Burghtey forthwith to cut off the
Scottish queen's bead, who, he said, was the in-
firm part in the foundation of the existing state
of things. The queeu still shrunk from the
odium of publicly imbruing her hands in her
rival's bloodi but she thought that it might be
possible to get the thing safely done in Scotlanil.
Killigrew was sent down to Edinburgh to arrsnge
the matter, being chaT;ged not to commit his so-
vereign's honour by any too open proceeding.
He was, in short, to keep himself in public to the
settliogof a treatyof paciiicution between the re-
gency and Mary's adherents iu Edinburgh CosUe
and elsewhere; but, in private, he was to pro-
pose the delivery of Mrjy into the hands of her
enemies, that she might "receive that she hnil
ileserved there by order of justice."'

But this negotiation fell to the gi-ound through
the unusual honour of the Regent Ifor, who was
actively employed in arranging a very different
pacification. He was labouring to effect a genetaJ
union of the several rivol foctions into which the
Scottish aristocracy was divided, on object for the
accomplishment of which he seems to have b^n
prepared to share his powtr with Maitland, Kir-
kaldy, Morton, and the other parties who had
hitherto opposed his odministratiou. In the midst
of these patriotic negotiations, the Earl of Mor-
ton invited the regent to hia house at Dalkeith,
and treated him very nobly; but the regent took
a vehement sickness, which caused him to ride
away to Stirling, where he died on the 28th of
October of this present year, 1572. Some of his
friends and the common people suspected he had
"gotten wrong" at Morton's banquet.' On the
24th of November Morton was chosen regeut
under the auspices of Elizabeth, whom he had
already served in many particulars. Hia power
had always been great, and now that it was su-
preme in Scotland, he devoted it to the two great
objects of enriching himself by forfeitures and
doing tlie will of the English queen, (a.d. 1573.)
Killigrew remained with the new regent, and
assisted him in arranging a separate treaty with
the Earl of Huutly and the Hamiltons, by which
Kirkaldy of Grange, Maitland of LethiugtoD,

(ood niuil that Uia ltk< b« not MMniptvl >niong ttiEm
Ifio ounnuniled towamll good speadmth the mort w
icon, uid T*t n Id dial u that the mitlii (Svj'tt

»Google

AD. 1572- 1687.] EUZi

and the others in Ediubargb Cnstle, were left to
ibemselvn to prolong a now hopelem struggle for
Queen Miry. Maitland proposed an honourable
capitulatioD : Morton insisted on an uncondi-
tioDal surrender. At this crisis Elizabetli sent
ui army from Berwick, under Dnirj the marshal,
who was fun.iihed with heavy artillery, and with
instructiona to lay the castle in ruins. Though
sUrving and destitute, the garrioon, under the
brave and skilful Kirkaldy, held out for thirty
four d&ys, when they surrendered, eipressly to
Drury aud the Queen of England, upon a general
promise of favourable terms. But Elizabeth or-
dered that MaiUand and Kirkaldy should be
delivered up to Morton At last all Maitland's
undermining and counterminiDg were nt an end.
and his subtle genius stood rebuked and helpless-
he ended bis days on the 8th of June, a few weeks
after the surrender of the castle. According to
one account he took poison, and "died a Roman
death;' according to another, the poison was ad-
roiniatered to him by Morton.' On the 3d of
August following the gallant Kirkaldy was
hanged and quartered as a traitor, and thus per-
ished Qie last remnant of Mary's party in Scot

ror at Vincennes, in the twenty-siith year of his
age. He was succeeded by his brother the Duke
of Anjou, a former Buitorof Elizabeth. This new
king, Henry III,, was detested by the Protestants
for the part he had taken in the massacre; and
he tad not been a year on the throne when he
detected a conspiracy to murder him, in which his
own brother, the Duke of Ajenfon, Elizabeth's
present suitor, was deeply implicated. Alenfon
escaped from the court, and began to levy troops
for another war in conjunction with young Hen-
ry, the then Protestant King of NaTarre. They
both applied to Elizabeth for assistance; but she
preferred the office of mediator, and, on the 14lh

BETH. 157

of May, 1576, a treaty was concluded, by which
the Huguenots were to have permission to wor-
ship Ood in their own way in public churches,
and Alenfon obtained the hononn, titles, and
appanage which had been enjoyed by his elder
brother Henry previous to his accession. F>oni
this time Alenfon was styled Duke of Anjou.
But this pacification was scarcely achieved wheu
Henry III. placed himself at the head of a Ca-
tholic league, formed by the majority of his sub-
jects, and in the month of February, 1577, ha
annulled at a blow the privileges granted to the
Huguenots, who thereupon proceeded to take up

At this momeut the minds of Elizabeth and
her ministers were rather occupied by the affairs
of the Netherlands than by those of France. The
Prince of Orange, after a tremendous stnig^e,
had succeeded in establishing the independence
of Holland and Zealand, and the Duke of Alva
had been recalled to wither and die under the
frowns and ingratitude of his master, Philip, for
n he had waded in blood.* Alva had been
succeeded by Zuniga.commendatorof Bequesens,
who, by policy and gentle meaiores, detached
many of the partiians of the Prince of Orange.
That prince, in his increasing diiBcnlties, offered
the sovereignty or the protectorship of Holland
and Zealand to Etizabeth, who was assumed to
bearepresentstiveof their ancient princes by her
descent from Philippa of Hainault, the wife of
Edward III. The qneen hesitated, and changed
her mind more thaji once, but at last declared
that she could not in conscience accept their offer,
but that she would act ss mediatrix between
them and their lawful sovereign, Philip. This
answer was given in the month of February, 1676,
but events occurred with wonderful rapidity,
which wholly changed the queen's plans. Re-
quesens died, and was succeeded by John of
Austria (a bastard son of the late Emperor
Charles V.). a brave and popular commander;

illlgnw hiiDHlf uji IhBl JlilUud di>d not oiUuHil •m-
of poiioD. MalTllltuid RpMtlnrosd agTM Id B^int iliit,
nmndand bj EUubMh. h> digd "iflar th> Romu

n." Kmij, in a iMtar tddi^Hd tn hex in bn dwd buid.

id Eli^bflih of thft poEiDnIng of UaJtUind

iTtnuilF llb«n; on (bo Donllnenl at

•e.wUliip

r, -htcb

m, Iba eulMd ip
n ind«pej>d«i)« 1

d>aU>ii

Implicit

Ti G*nji

mljlit ki» hin onght addillimiil boldni

tbt friunplt tnd opioloiu ot Eaglraid, with which thirj

m for nrigHm wtn th« ProtoBtAntt of llimt BuTgundiui
Ei«B. Qurlva V. iTogan Uf prr«cribe that bod^ of hii lab-
ln thsHDnmn-of IMl. mIUt ht bad holiten ui imperW

utd aa vlkt ddI ml) tor the goxiudieiii dI th* smpin.

Aponolic Bee, oi wbo poaoaasd Lutheran boo^ or biibouTAj

lh«ii who won) napiicUd of hsmr. SoIidUtlon tbr fD(itiTa
wu prohit^tAL— not axceptiui tatbart, lona, or DrotbRV. Etsd
bj iwuitation of borenj^ no ftrth«T gna ooold be««ni*d ttitn

od began u> tie ipUM m UN. FYom tbut tmiB.' nja Fitbiir
I, 'Up tbr paaoe of Catoau.Cambreaia in 15&&, tbnv wtn
M Proleatanta hangad, Mmded, biirwd milTe» or bniMil
3D Nstharlanda.' Orotiua. tn wrltii^ of a Ut«r period, aiti.

»Google

158

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

rci.i

. AMD MiLITARr

and it was rumoured thnt. Dot sntisSed with the
aubjugation of the whole of the Netherlands, he
coDteinptated an invasion of England, and a mar-
riage with the Queen of Scots. At the aaine time
the Prince of Orange, in hia despair, talked of
offering the sovereignty of his couiitrj to Eliza-
beth's suitor, Alen;on, now Duke of Anjou. Upon
this Elizabeth concluded an alliance, offensiTe and
defensive, with the Orange party, protesting all
the while to Philip that she merely intended to
preserve to him the Netherlanila from the grasp
of the French, and to herself the kcingdum of Eng-
land free from invasion by his ambitious half-
brother, Don John. The English negotiator oo
thik occasion was William Davison, The queen
had already furnished large sums of money, but
now they were in want of more, and Davison en-
gaged to procure it on their giving adequate ae
eurity. The Dutch diplomatist produced the
valuable jewels and plate which bad been pledged
by Mathias of Austria to the states of Uol-
laod; and, on these things being sent to England,
.£50,(K)0 were advanced for present exigencies.'
In spite of the new spirit which had been infused
intA them by the English treaty, the Dutch were
defeated in the great battle of Oemblours. They
then applied, iu a breath, to the Protestant
princes of Qermany, to Elizabeth, and to the
Duke of Anjou Cassimir, another of the Eng-
ti'sh queen's suitors, niai-ched into the Nether-
lands with a powerful army, and Anjou soon fol-
lowed with 10,000 meu. Neither, however, could
do much against such great commanders as Don
John and Alexander Famese, Prince of Parma,
who had recently arrived with another army of
Spaniards and Italians. The Duke of Anjou ex-
cused bis want of success by pleading his anxiety
not to offend Elizabeth ; anil at this very moment
he was renewing bis suit with a rikre ardour. He
wnt over Siroier, a nobleman who possessed un-
common skill in amorous matters, and who wa^
irresbtibly witty and gallant. This Simier soon
giuned an extraordinary ascendency over the
mind of tbe queen, to whom he constantly repre-
sented that hia employer, Anjou, was almost dy-
ing of love for her. He did more: he disclo-ied
to her that tlie Earl of Leicester had recently
married iu private the widow of the late Earl of
Essex. According to popular rumour the fn-
Tcurite had poisoned Essex to make way to hif
bed. Leicester stormed and protested; but, for
the first time in his life, he found his royal mis-
tress implacable. He was severely reprimimded,
nud pta<^ in confinementalGreenwicfa. Id the
following summer (1580) the Duke of Anjou
suddenly appeared at Greenwich, having tra-

' Sir H»rrt. XtchoU., l,/r ,/ WJI-am Ain»>i, Hacnui; -t \
auitributuD to (b* hlrtm; et llili mgii 1

veiled thither in disguise. The strong and mas-
culine mind of Elizabeth was weaker than that
of a child in some points, and this was one of
them. The romance of the thing quite fascinated
her. After a few days of ardent courtship, and
much private talk, Anjou went his way. A few
(lays after his departure Elizal>eth assembled the
lords of her council, and submitted to tliera "the
great question.' These lords were divided in
opinion — some of them representing the danger
to religion from a Catholic husband; the sinful-
ness of allowing the mass to be set up, though in
private, in the royal palace; the peril to her ma-
jeaty'slife, it, at herage (she was nowiuherforty-
uinth year), she should have issue; aud the use-
leaaness of the marriage if she had not' Every
account of Elizabeth's conduct at this critical mo-
ment is startling and perplexing, but most of
them would lead us to believe that she was now
really anxious for a marriage with this young
prince. Bui-ghley, the scarcely leas adroit Wal-
aingham, her relative Hunsdon, Mildmay, Sadler
— all were loat in amazement, and doubt, aud
dread. It is said that she shed passionate tears
upon finding that they did uot unanimously peti-
tion her to marry, as they had done before. They
were, however, too careful of their liberty and
their places to offer any open opposition to what
seemed to be the queen's wiahea; and they ac-
tively drove on to its conclusion a preliminary
matrimonial treaty with Simier. But in two
months Elizabeth again declared that she would
die a virgin queen. Again, however, in a few
months, when n splendid emliassy from Cather-
ine de' Medici arrived in Lonrlou (it was in the
spring of 1581), she agreed that the marriage
should be concludeil within six weeks, but with a
pi-ovision that she should be at liberty to change
her mind again if certain secret stipulations were
not previously fulfilled. It is ditHcult to under-
stand, even with full reference to all her political
relations at home and abroad — it is impossible
to reconcile to any Hied and wise principle the
vacilUtiug conduct of the qnceu. The states of
the Netherlands, where her influence was great,
formally elected the Duke of Anjou to lie their
sovereign; and when that prince marched into
the country at the head of 16,0(X) men, heedless
of her old anxieties about French ambition, she
sent him a i>re.-«nt of KMl.iKX) crowns. Chiefly
by means of this seasonable ^d, Anjou gaineil
many successes. On the approach of winter be
put hia troops into winter-quarters, and hurried
over to England, whither, it is said, he was now
warmly invited by Elizabeth. His arrival was
welcomed with fireworks and other rejoicings;
and soon after the queen, before her whole court.

« Burglilfi, Fitpiri. SaJlty.

,v Google

4D 1572— 1587.1

EUZABETH.

15!

took a. ring from her Goger, aoil put it upon hin.
Hereupoa the aewa was spread abroad upon the
winga of the nitid that the queen wag going to
marry at last. In Paris the news whs, that the
match could know no further impediment; in
Antwerp and Brussels they lit bonfires and dis-
charged artillery, na if iL had really taken place.
But, in the ni^ht, Elizabeth had talked with some
of her council, and in the morning Anjou found
hi^ affianced bride pale and in tears; aud before
he left her apartment he was assured that she
could never marry.' It was, however, some time
before these matters were made public; and the
zealous Protestants continued to rail against the
marriage, heaping all kinds of abuse, not only on
the Duke of Anjou, but on the whole Fi-eneh na-
tion, and much marvelling that the queen had
not a better recollection of the feast of St. Bar-
tholomew. The preachers had begun the attack
some time before, by condemning t)ie intended
match from the pulpit, but they had been pretty
well silenced. After staying three months iti
England, Anjou prepared to depart, pledging,
however, his word to the queen that he would
Roon return. She accompanied him fi^ far as Can-
terbury, aud there took leave of him, weeping
like an amorous girl.' Ou his arrival in the
Netherlands, Anjou found very different employ-
ment: Alexander Parnese wasnot yet conquered,
and the Prince of Orange possessed in reality the
power which nominally belonged to the French
prince. Dissensionsbrokeoutbetween the French
and the Dutch, and, in the mouth of June of the
tollowiiig year, Anjou, having witnessed the loss
of the greater part of his troops, fled back to
France. Soon after his return he fell into a lin-
gering illness, of which he died in the month of
June, 1684 — we need scarcely add, " not without
suspicion of being poisoned.''

We have alluded to the troubles of Ireland,
and to the views in that direction of France aud
Spain. That country had never been well go-
verned or tranquil for a single year, but the dif-
ference of religion was now a perennial source of
havoc and desolation. Sometimes the English
pale wa.1 wasted by fire and swoni ; hut, gene-
rally speaking, the undisciplined Irish were the
victims of that merciless war. Shane O'Neil was
basely assassinated, and his lands, comprising the
greater part of Ulster, were vested in the Eng-
lish crown as. early as 1668. Numerous colonists
were sent over from England to occupy these
lands, where they bad to maintain themselves
by the sword, for the dispossessed pmprietoni
struggled bard to keep their inheritance. In
1573 Waller Devereui, Earl of Esaei, undertook
to subdue aud colonize the district of Clan-bubny.

1 Camdm: Mtuin Ot limr,.- DmiH.

• Lrttar gf Lrnd Tulbe^ in Lodn lUiutraUmu-

He set sail with a small army of his own raising,
but met with little success; he was wretchedly
seconded bj the peiinrious and jealous court of
England; and he died at Dublin in 1576, sus-
pecting himself that he was poisoned.' The- Irish
priests naturally looked to the pope and the Ca-
tholic powers for assistance. From time to time
they received encouraging messages from France
and Spain ; but the first to send them any real
Jince in the shape of troops was Pope Gre-
gory Xm, Sii hundred diacipliued troops and
3(NX) stand of arms were embarked at Civita-
vecchia, the nearest port to Rome, to fall down
the Mediterranean, to touch nt Lisbon, there to
take on board Fitzmorris, an Irish exile, and
then to proceed t^the Irish coast. But Stukely,
the oificei to whom this expedition was intrusted,
proved a traitor or a mad adventurer ; on reach-
Lialxiu he offered his services to Sebastian,
King of Portugal, and, instead of going to Ireland
fight the English, he went to Africa to fight
the Moors, who slew him, and King Sebastian,
aud all his host, at the buttle of Alcasar. Fitz-
is, who was a brother or lialf-brother of thft
Earl of Desmond, sailed from Lisbon in the right
direction, but he had with him only about eighty
Spanish soldiers, a troop of Irish and English
Catholic exiles, and Saunders, the Jesuit, whom
the pope had named his legate. Such a force
could maintain itself nowhere, and the Irish had
Buffered so severely that tliey were slow to rise.
Fitzmorris, therefore, lingered among the moors
and bogs; but in the following year, 1680, there
a great rising, and an Italian officer in the
pay of the pope, arrived from Portugal with 6IX»
~ 10 men, 5(KK> stand of arms, and some money.
But these foreigners were presently assaulted
both by sea and laud, in an unfinished fort at or
near to Smerwick, in the county Kerry, Two
memorable men were in the English camp —
Edmund Spenser, the author of the Faerie Queen,
1(1 Walter Raleigh, then the captain of a com-
pany. The latter, who, in some respects, was
not in advance of his age, took a conspicuous
part in the carnage which ensued, and the gentle
Spenser justified the atrocious deed with his pen.
After resisting for three days, San Giuseppe, the
Italian commander, hung out a flag of truce, and
sent n secretary to the lord-deputy, the Lord Grey
of Wilton, whom Spenser calls " a most gentle,
affable, loving, and temperate lord ! ' to treat for
grace. According to Spenser, this was flatly re-
fused,* The Irish and foreign writers assert that
the Lord-deputy Grey of Wilton promised the

jicb Knollj., L,

,v Google

160

niSTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and Militabt.

foreigners tbeir live* i upon which they Itud down
their arms, and were all maaaaered in cold blood,
with the eieeption of one Irish uoblemau and a
few Spanish officers j and, aa veteran troops do
not lay down tlieir arma, even in extremities,
without Home such assurance, it may be conjec-
tured that a promise, at least of lite, waa given.
The English continued in that sharp couree, and
brought under the insurgents of Ulster and Con-
uaught. lu 1583 the Earl of Desmond, who had
lain concealed for nearly three years in the wildest
part of the country, waa tracked and killed on
his own hearth-stone by one Kelly of Moriarty,
who cut off his head and sent it to Elizabeth.
The earl's head was fixed upon London bridge ;
and for aome time there waa peace iu Ireland.

In Scotland there was confusion, intrigue, and
treachery. The Regent Morton had acourged the
country with a rod of iron, plundering in all di-
rections, tampering with the coinage, and seek-
ing every means to enrich himself. In 1578 a
convention of the nobility insisted that James,
who waa now in hia thirteenth year, waa of a
proper age to govern by himself. Morton waa
taken by aurpriae, and retired, aa to the beat
place of safety, to Lochleven Cuatle. About
three montlia after, he contrived to obtain posses-
sion of the person of the young king, and to re-
sume hia authority. The Earis of Argyle and
Athole raised an army— aa they said, to i-est-ue
their aovereign from the captivity of the Doug-
lases; but when a battle seemed inevitable, the
English ambassador interfered, and patched up
a reconciliation. Soon after, Morton gave a ban-
quet to his adveraaries; and the Earl of Athole,
the chief of these, died of the dinner. And soon
there ran a rumour that Morton was negotiat-
ing for the delivery ol James into the hands of
Eliiabeth. At this moment Eani6 Stuart, Lord
of Aubigny, arrived from France, where he had
been educated. He waa the son of a second
brother of the Earl of Lennoi, the father of
Damley, and consequently a near relation to the
young king, who at once took him into extraor-
dinary favour. This, the first of James' many
favourites, waa handsome, graceful, and accom-
plished. Hia rise was proportionately rapid ; he
became Duke of Lennoi, captain of the guard,
first lord of the bedchamber, and lord high-
chamberUiin. But nuder this favourite, who
knew little of Scotland, or of busineaa of any
kind, there was a minor favourite, James Stuart,
commonly called Captain Stuart, the second son
of Lord Ochiltree, a family which also claimed
kindred with the royal house. The capUin, who
had a turn for treachery and intrigue equal to
that of Morton, bad fuHy resolved to work thi
fall of the regent; and this he achieved after
many difficulties, [or Morton nan strong in the

prejudices and fears of the people, who were led
to believe that the Duke of Lennox was an agent
of the Guises, commissioned to restore the masa

Scotland. Morton hud procured an net of
parliament to ratify every proceeding of hia
regency, and to indemnify him for any illegal
jxerciaeof authority. It waa, therefore, deemed
imprudent to prosecute him for any part of his
conduct as regent ; hut Moiton, long before hi«
regency, bad been vehemently suspected of hav-
ing ft share in the murder of tbe king's father;
and Captain Stuart, now created Earl of Arrwi,
induced Jamea to proceed against him on thia
int, alleging that tbe act of indemnity did
not reach to tbe murderers, and that a
upon this fact would equally carry with i1
forfeiture of Morton's life and of hia i]
wealth and wide eatates, which would all fall to
the poor king. The acute villain hod grown
somewhat dull with age; he allowed himself to '
be thrown into prison. Elizabeth sent down her
old agent fiandolph to interpose in hia favour.
The Prince of Orange and the Protestant King
of Navarre also interfered — for Morion wa*
deemed a sturdy Protestant, while the royal fa-
vourite, the young Duke of Lennox, waa sus-
pected of P.ipiatry. But these representations

e not regarded, and Randolph, who waa found

plotting with the Earl of Angus, waa obliged

to flee tor bis life.' Elizabeth even collected troops

near the Borders to intimidate the Scota ; but

is measure waa met by the levying of au army

Scotland, and James was made to send a mea-
senf^r to demand explicitly whether the CJueen
of England wished to have peace or war. Her
majesty then abandoned her creature to hia faW,
delicately protesting that it would not become
her to make war iu defence of a murderer, and
old Morton, after a very irregular trial,' waa ex-
ecuted by the " maiden," a rude kind of guillo-
tine, which he himself had introduced into Scot-
land a abort time before. And thus perished
aiTother Regent of Scotland. A portion of the
trial ia intereating, as bearing upon the question
of Mary's guilt or innocence. The unanunous
verdict of the jury brought the prisoner In guilty
of concealing, or being art and part in the mur-
der of Henry Damley; and it was proved pretty
clearly that bis kinsman and confidant Archibald
Douglas, and his servant Binning, were acluslly
employed iu the murder. It waa also shown that
he had given a bond to Bothwell, to aecuro him
from pimiahment for that deed; and a paper was
produced, which was Mid to be Bothwell'a dying
lieclBiatiou, and which exonerated the queen
from ail share in the dark transaction. Morton,

,v Google

)72 1587.]

EUZABETH.

161

after seuteuce, coufeaaed to tlie miiiiaUn of tbe
kirk that, ufioii his return fi-om EngUn'I, aft«r
hia exile for hia part in the Biaugbter of David
BiEzJo, the Eurl of Bothwell and his kitieniaii
Arvbibald Douglas bad so-
licited bim to btke part io the
projected murder of Daruley;
but he affirmed that be de-
ciiDed BO doing, unless Both-
wel) could produce to hiiu the
qneEti's sign-manual id war-
rant of the deed. He alleged
that Bothwell had promiiied
him to giroduce auch an asau-
rance; but he admitted that he
neaer did, and that he never
saw anythiDg from tbe queen
to authorize the mnrder. Hin
aerraut hinnitig was executeil
the day aftor his master; but
tbe far more guilty Archibald
Douglas escaped into EDgland.

After the death of Morton, i,,.,^

.Tamni nominally governed
the kingdom by hiniaelf; but, in fact, the whole
LiiaiDeKi of tlie state was managed, or mis-
managed, by his favourite, the young Duke of
Lennox, and by James Stuart, the new Earl
nf Amiii. The latter waa as unprincipled as
Morton, without hia ability and experience, aud
Ilia private life was outrageously dissolute. He
*oon commenced an intrigue for the overthrow
of the young Duke of Lennox, who had firxt put
him in the way of court promotiou ;an(l tlie course
he adopted speedily brought about the ruin both
Iff his patron and of himself. At this moment
tbe Catholics of Euglaud turned an anxious eye
to the north, not only hoping tliat James, now
that he n-as relieved from Morton, would make
some exertions for his afflicted mother, but also
that he might be won over, if not to their church,
to ■ toleration of it and hia feelings in this re-
spect would be of no small imiiortance, as they
all probability succeed to
Active intrigues were set
in direction of Parsons, the
Jesuit. Waytes, an EugliHh Catholic clergyman,
and Creigbton, a Scottish Jesuit. Btit it waa
stated by, or for the king, that he waa in a state
of extreme poverty, and that, unless he nere re-
lieved and succoured from abroad, he must of
necesuty submit to the will of Elizalieth. Far-
»oas flew to Spain, Creighton to Rome : Philip
made James a present of 12,(KKJ crowns; tlie
pope promised 40(10 crowns. Mary was made
privy to the intrigue, and she offered, upon cer<
lain conditions, to legalize James's irregular ac-
cession. The English court was no stranger to
what was paming, nor to the new conspinicy

Vol. II-

wbich ensued. The Eai'l of Gowrie, a son of the
murderous Ruthveii, invited James to his castle
at Ruthven. The unsuspecting king accept^
Ids invitation, and found himself a close prisoner.

saw that he would
the English throne.

ta i^iUTlJi.— Billiuvi' Aiilk|ultteiuf liuutliuiil.

Then the authority of the state fell to the Earl
of Mar, the Master of Olamia, the Lord Uli-
phant. and others, supported by the preachers,
who ]>roclfumed to their congregations that there
had been a plot on foot to restore the mass and
Queen Mary. Arran was taken and thrown into
a dungeon: Leimox fled to France, where he die<l
soonaft«r. When the news of her son's captivity
reached Mary, she foresaw nothing less than his
absolute ruin or murder, and putting ber own
griefs out of consideration, she wrote a letter
full of maternal tendemesa and anxiety to Elizv
betb, imploring her to iutorfere and save her
only child. But Elizabeth was well satisfied
with what had taken place, and she now left the
aSaira of Scotland to themselves. But the lords
had never contemplated the violent measures
B'liich had suggested themselves to the affrighted
imagination of a mother, and James, boy as he
waa, waa their match, at leaxt in dissimulation.
He duped hia jailers into a belief that he forgave
what had been done; he recovered his liberty,
summoned a convention, and resumed the exer-
cise of his authority, having formally pardoned
all concerned In the " Raid of Ruthven."

All this called for fresh precautions on tlie part
of Elizabeth, who sent down her dexterous min-
ister WalsiLigham. Intrigues almost iiiexplica-
ble followefl in rapid succession, and llie Euglisli
court was kept in an unceasing agony of alarm
by rej>orts of foreign invasions aud inroads across
the Borders, insurrections at home, plots against
the queen's life, Englinh St. Baitholomcws. In
tills state Elizabeth gave full course to the penal
code against the Catholics, which had been made

..Google

162

HISTORV OF ENGLAND.

[Civ:

. AKD Military.

mora nnd more severe, nnil U> Llie feaivi aud fnna-
ttciacn of her Prutestant subjects. Spies and in-
forinera were let loose till the land swarmed with
them: the adherents to the old faith were in-
cessantly hornisseii, cuct into pi-ison on vague
Husiiicioiiij, mined in their property snd prospects.
The conduct of government towards the Catho-
hcs sonieirhut refiembled the brutal praake of a
set of boys who drive and torment a dog until he
is mad, and then ahoot him fur Iwiiig dan;;erous.
And yet, after all, no dangei>ous Catholit.' con-
sph'Hcy wiis ever tnu'ed to any great or [wwerful
number of English subjects— wits never brought
home to the do«iii of any hut a fi:w fauati:« and
inveterate plotters who had caught the iiitectiuii
of the times, when the ordinary proceedings of
govemmeuta looked more like pUitx and intrigues
than Htale biiHiness. Every man was tempted
to woi'k destructiou on his pei'donal enemy by
the ease of the [iroce^s with whii-h he could accuse
him of being unsound in I'eligion and ilisoffected
in politic!!. In this way Arden, a gentleman of
an ancient family in WiLrwickahii'e, wan sacri-
ficed to the revei^e of his neighbour, Leicexter.
Arden's son-in-law, Somerville. and IIiill. a mis-
nionary priest, ami Arden's wife, were convicted of
a conspiracy upon evidence extracte<l by the rack.
Somerville strangled himself, or was strangled bi-
Others, in Newgate. Ai-den suffered the hon'ible
death of a traiU>r. Hall, the priest, who had
confessed on the rack, was suffeml to live. Before
this tinie Campion, an English Jesuit, who had
lieen lurking in England, vm put to the rack.
He confessed nothing but the writing and dis-
tributing of works in favour of the (Church of
Rome, nor does it appeal' that he was cliaiged
with any conspiracy, but he was executed with
three priests named Sherwood, KLrby, and Bry-
ant. Notwithstanding the prevailing fanaticism
and panic which held in suspense all the gener-
ous feelings of the nation, people be^an to mur-
mur at the frequent and increasing use of tor-
ture ; and Burghley found it expedient to de-
fend himself against public opinion. He giro-
tested that the .leHuit C'aniploii had been racked
HI ffeiUli/ that he was soon after able to walk
about and sign his confession.' Elizabeth did
more : she proclaimeil tliat tortiipe ahould reaae :

but it ceased only in this specious proclamation
— in reality it became more active than ever. A*
the vile trade of an informer was a profitable one,
many ingenious individuals took it up: and there
was a wonderful increase of intercepted letters,
forged documents, and lists fouud hid in Catho-
lic houses— found, we believe, in three cases out
of four, by those who had put them there — by the
agents of the government. Philip Ilowanl, Earl
of Arundel, sou of the late Duke of Norfolk (one
of the poor orphans for whom he had ao implored
and prayed), grew up a moody, melancholy man,
and became a convert to Catholicism. From that
moment he had been allowed no ■'est. To escape
iniprisonmenta and questionings, and the fat« of
his father anil his grandfather, who had both suf-
fei-uil on the block, he I'esolved to quit hia coun-
try, and, at the moment of departure, he wrote
an affecting letter, whioli was to lie delivered to
the queen when he shoidd be out of her i-each.
Sut some of his own servants, and the master of
the vessel in which he intended to seek ai
liiui abroad, were i'« f/if pa_^ of Bar^Mei/, and on
their timely information he was seized oti the
coast of Sussex, brought up to London, and
signed to the Tower, wheif> he died some yearn
after in a miserable condition. Before his con
mittal, the Eni-I of Northumberland, the brothi
of the last enrt, beheaded at York, had destroyed
liinisetf by discliargiug three pistol- bullets into
liis left breast in order to baulk Queen Eliza-
liethof the forfeiture of his lauds. He had been
accused of conspiring to liberate Queen Mary.'
Passing over many other victims, we proceed to
(he Throckmorton plot, which was detected by
the court, or invented by it, in 1584. Francis
Tiirockmorton, a gentleman of (lieshire, was ar-
resteil on the evidence of an iutercepled letter
written by one Morgan, a supposed adherent of
the Queen of Seota, though an agent of Burgh-
ley's, who was in France, and who, according to
this letter, informed him tliat Mary's ue]>hew, the
Duke of Guise, was now ready to invade England
for the puriKwe of liberating his relative. It
wn-s firoved beyoud a doubt that no such jirepa-
nition existed in France; but that was nothing.
Throckmorton waa laid upon the rack : he wan
Hileiit under the fii-st torture; he was rackeil

■ 8omm' T.-«^.

tb 1,^ cJlheSkrlrfV-orth «l«l.ulortbrt. r d-lh

In ■ IMt«-an iiiftnwl IMWr—wrilWn » ■ liter peilvd, by

Mir W«llrr lUWull to Bi.rshl.y. ma. Sir HuLurt C'oul, iwm

nigiHliiiR bim m ffX tha VaA of Kmi put <hiI of IIh wij, im.l

nd> nf > mat.. priaHwc in tlH To»<T. T« pmve tfa< miolde.

not to f,nr >ft« KTBDge hT>iu th« «rJ> .Dn. ItaMsh »!:

•■mniFnt )>rnn|lil lunrinl out Hullsn. who ifflrawd Hut

■■ NurthnniberlmiU thw nnw ii Uiiuks not of H»tlaii'. imo.

h«l iBl.1 s *< to th.«rt ; ^d .noll»r .Ut. pru-awr. nWHl

let kim go br .11 ht. l«.lin»."-fl,/(rt(., Fn^^,.

ir1hj.iMrnntotUMn«iB»QfPr1oe. But thf. Pria. though

It thii be not Ml Mnnning « ■ fiict known buth lo Kiltigh

oiurt«l7. m nnt pnidmd.— HdwiU'i Sn** Tria*!.

>Mn luurdwtd by th< <»»([ii««< o( Hittou. «> m wohIh-

fnlly mhUkoii. A> wb hiin r«<i.>« loul > d«Kl rvjM SihI

nion 11.U. OI.6 lanllel «t tbl. |»rt«l.

..Google

D. 1572— 1S87.]

ELIZABETH.

Kg&iu, iui<I wRd Btill Hilent; he was tortui'eU »|
third time, and stIU confessed not. He whs led
a fourtli time U> the rack, and then certain papem '
were exhi)iit«d to him which were said to have '
heeti disroveretl ia his house and then the!

hati n

reived consecmtisn from the Bishop of

Forty days were allowed them I

wretched mail made some confessioua iu wbicli
he jm|ilicated Meadoza, the Spanish amliaasador.
Burghley aummoned the iirabaasador before the
jtrivy connei!, and charged him with practising
ngainiit the state. Mendoza indignantly repelled
the charfie, and retorted by aecusiii;; Burghley of
■■cil>bing bis master King Philip ; of encouraging
the rebelh'oiis subjects of Spain; and, amongst
iither thiiiga, he charged a certain counsellor of
her majesty with having engaged the brother of
a certain lord to nmrder Don John of Austria.
The ambassador was sent out of the kingdom.
Throckmorton, after a strange trial, was seat to
the gallows and the e seen lionet's knife at Ty-
burn. On the scaffold he declared that there
had been no conspiracy, and {calling God to wit-
ness) that the confession he had made was a mere
fiction invented to save his body from further
torture. The Lords Paget and Charles Anmdel,
who had been named in the intercepted letter,
had escaped into France, whence they put forth a
declaration ntating that they had fled because
they feared Leicester and Walsiagham, and he-
criuse they knew that their innocence would not
avail them against forged letters.

1584 ^^ *''* untumn of this year Eli-
zabeth auniraoned a new parlia-
ment ; for, notwithstanding her thrift, she was
deplorably in want of money. The commons
voted liberally, and at the same time thej passed
fresh penal statutes against the Catholics. The
blow was priiicipally directed against the Jesuits,
tlu seminary jiricats, and all English priests who

the, kingdom for ever: if found after that term
they were tn die the death of traitors; and all
those wliu concealed them, or gave them hospi-
tality, would l>e held as being
guilty of felony. All persona
knowing of such priests being
within the realm, and not dis-
covering them within twelve
days, were to be fined and ini.
prisoned. The English Catho-
lice, having no schools allowed
to them at home, had of late
yearaseut their sons abroad tor
education, more especially to
the college of Donay, a large
establishment conducted hy the
' Jesuits, who bad obtained
great reputation as teachers:
but it was now enacted that all
such students abroad as did
not return home within six
months after proclamation
made should he deemed trai-
tors ; that all who furnished
them with money should incur a premunire ;
that parents sending their children to such semin-
aries without liceuse shoald forfeit .fllH); and
that the children there educated should be dis-
inherited.'

The Catholics presented a petition against the
late enactments, vindicating their loyalty and
their religion- declaring that they utterly ab-
horred all such projecU of assassination as had
recently been spoken of^and held that neither
priest nor pope could license that which was sin-
ful. Richard Shelley, of Michael Grove, iu Sus-
sex, undertook to pi'esent this petition to the
i^ueen, who forthwith committed him to prison,
where he died after a confinement of some years.
The captive Queen of Scots, who saw herself
altogether abandoned by her only child, now
thought that every night would be her last.
What seemed to aim at her life was an associa-
tion recently entered into, called the Protestant
ABsociatiou, against all the enemies of Queen
EliTaheth. The members of it solemnly swore
to defend the queen, and to revenge her death
or any injury committed against her. Leicester
was at the head of it, and it had been cnnfirmed
by parliament.

The state of Elizabeth's foreign relations at
this time was altogether anomalous. There was
and there had been no declaration of war witli
Spain, but yet, ever since 1670, when the groat
Drake obtained a regular

»Google

164

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

tC.v.t

u MiuT*ni

mander auJ others who followed liia example had
bet^Q plunderiog iu the Went Indies, in tjpaiiiah
America, and in the Pacific. The right which
S()aiu aaaumed of oonBiilering the New World as
treauu re- trove, and of excluding from its com-
merce the ships of all other nations, was indoeil
monstrous; but, on the other hand, it will be dif-
ticult to consider Ui-ake, Hawkins, and the rest,
in any other light than that of buccaneers, how-
ever much we may admire tlieir daring Bpii'it, and
the great coDtributions they made in the coui'se
of their marauding expeditions to the sciences of
aavigatiou and geography. Di-ake, in the course
of three expeditions, had plundered the Siianish
towns of Nombre de Dioa and ('^rthagena, and
nearly all the towns on the coast of Chili and
Peril, and had destroyed or tnken an immense
number of Spanish ships, retnrning from each
voyage with immense booty. Elizabeth insisted
that she and other nations had a right to navi-
gate those seas, aud to visit the porta which the
jealousy of the Spaiiiarils kept closed to all Have
their own flag, and that it was contrary l« the
laws of nations to treat iutrudeLB oa ])iratea ; but

there being no declaration of war, she certainly
committed in this way manifold acts of real piracy.
Again, in the Netherlands, the King of Spain
was everywhere met by English money and Eng-
lish resources, which hud enabled those whom
he termed bin revolted aubjects to prolong the
"truggle year after year. For a long time Eliza-
beth furnished her aid with all possible secrecy,
denying to the Spanish court that she ever abetted
rebels. But the course of events forced her to

adojitamoreopeu practice; and though she again
declined the sovereignty or protectoruhip of the
country, slie, in ISHS, sent over a niyal army of
600() men, having bai^fained with the States that
they should [Miy all expenses, and deliver tu her,
as securities, the town of Brill and Flushing, and
Rammekins, a strong and important fort. The
ijueeu's paasiouate regard for Leicester had cooled
aincethe revelation of hie secret marriage with
the Countess of Essex ; and that earl was now
|>ermitted to take the command of the army iu
the Netherlands, where he entertained very am-
bitious pi-ojects, and displayed a woful want both
of militjiry and civil ability. Without consulting
his mistress, lie induced the Stales to name him
(.•overuor-general of the Low Countries, and to de-
clare his authority supreme and Hbnolute, jointly
with the council of state. Elizabeth wi-ot« to
him in a fury, teUing him to remember the dust
from which she had raised him, mid to do what-
ever she might commanil as he valued his neck.
The States, who ha*l thought to plenae the queen
by elevating her favoui'ite, were in great per-
plexity, and I^icester soon showed them, iu other
ways, that they had committed a lamentable mis-
take iu iutruiitiug a sovereign power to such an
incapable, arrogant, and insolent man, whose first
ojierations were to cnkmp the freedom of com-
merce, which had given life and energy to the
insurgents. In the field he was pompous, vain-
glorious, and inefScieut, presenting a wretcheil
contmst to Alexander Farnese, the Prince tit
Pannn, who still prolonged the struggle for Spain
with remarkable generalship. He carefully
avoided a battle, and his greatest affair of arms
was an attack upon Zutphen, which failed, and
which would scarcely deserve a mention iu his-
tory but for the death of the gallant and accom-
plished Sir Philip Sidney, who perished there in
the twenty-fifth year of his age.' The best-mau-
aged part of Leicester's campaign was his huutiug
all C<ttholics from places of profit and trust, and
his captivating the Calviuistic preachera of tbu
Low Countries by such measures, and by a very
sanctimonious bearing. When the States ven-
tured to call him to account for his gross miscon-
duct, this noble grandson of a tax-gatherer and
extortioner* promised redress, but complained to
his creatures that one of his rank shonld be qnea-
tioned by shopkeepers and artizans.* In the
winter of 1081!, having pacified the queen, he re-
turned to England, stilt, however, retaining the
power intrusted to him in the Low Countries.

By this time there began to rise a rumour that
the King of Spain was preparing to invade Eng-

I sir PhUlp »idnsj ■*• niplui
nds u light to lukllHi.
■ For ths faiitoTT uf Liicntar'i

gniKUUbaT, Dsdlar. tlw ad-
piBof IIcsiT Vir and Hoit

,v Google

^D. 1572— lfi87] ELIZi

hnii with a tremendous force, and some Catholic
plot or other at home waa the uewa of ever; day.
bloat — nttarly every onit — of theiie conspirociea
were coujared up by the imagintttion, or were
altogether obscure and ioaignificaut ; hut, in the
uitumn of 1586, a real plot was discovered, al
the head of which waa Anthony Babington, a
young English Oatholic of an enthusiastic tempei-,
irho was brought to consider that it would be
glorious in this world and acceptable in the next
if he could assassinate Elizabeth and deliverQueeu
Hary from a mptivity which was now rendered
&n unceasing torture, physically as well as morally.
Babington had several accomplices, and one of
these, named Pooley, put himself in direct com-
munication with Walaingham, who was iuformeil
of every particular from the first rude arrange-
meat of the scheme, and who permitted the plot
to go on in order to implicate Mary. Wheu he
had played with the mwterous threads of this
intrigue for ikostks, mil had woven % complete
web round the cgnspirators^ he opened the subject
to Elizabeth, and soon ftfter proceeded to a«t
Ballard, a seminary priest, whom Camd^ calls
'' a silken priest in a soldier's habit," waa suddenly
nrreated. Babington and the rest, who were all
young men of fortune and acquirements, fled ; but
Babington waa taken in a few days, at Uarrow-
on-the-Uill, with Gage, Chamock, Barnwell, and
Don, in the house of Bellamy, theircommon friend.
Titchborn, Tiavere, Abington, Salisbury, Jones,
and Tilney were seized in other places, and of
tlie whole number only Edward Windsor, the
brother of Lord Windsor, escaped pursuit. These
were so base and mercenary conspirators — they
were such high-apirit«d and intellectual young
men as could not have been easily matched in the
kingdom. But it appears that they were all put
to the rock, or at leaat threatened with it; a gra-
tuitoua atrocity, for Walsingham, Burghley, and
the queen knew precisely all that could possibly
be known of the bosinesa. While this was doing
the belb of London rang merrily for their appre-
hension— bonfires were lit— and on the morrow,
banquets were spreail in the streets, with sing-
ing of psalms and praising Qod for preserving
her majesty and people.' The fate of the pri-
soners, however, on account of their youth, their
honourable condition in society, and their pt«-
viously unimpeached characters, excited some
commiseration, and this seems to have been the
canse of the government arraigning them not all
at once, but in two separate bodies, notwith-
gtnnding the great legal objection that their case
was one and indivisible. On the 13th of Sep-
temlier, certain of them being put upon their

.BETH. 1 63

trial were condemned as (rait^ira, and execnteil
on the 20th, with a scrupulous attention to the
atrocious processes prescribed by law, being all
cut down while life waa in them. The other
seven were tried on the 15tb, arid were all exe-
cuted on the Slat, but, iu this more fortunate
than their companions, they were allowed to
lisng till they were dead. The place selected for
their execution was Lincoln's In ti Fields, "even
the place where they had used to meet and con-
fer."' With the exception of Babington, itseemn
to be extremely doubtful whether any of these
gentlemen contemplsted the murder of the queen;
and, with the single exception of Babington, all
of them behaved chivalrously and nobly, endea-
vouring to take blame to themselves rather than
cast it upon their companions. Most of them
maintained that their views were confined to
liberating the captive queen, a project likely to
take firm hold of young und romantic minds.
Bellamy 4f Harrow appeai-s to have suffered
uerely because some of the fugitives were found
in his house. His wife escaped tbivugh a mis-
er in the indictment, A statute had been
just passed to meet the case, and to bring Mary
to the block ;' and as what was deemed evidence
against her bad been secured from the Babing-
ton conspiracy, Elizabeth's council now proposed
an immediate .trial of the Scottish queen. But
even now Elizabeth hesitated, to the dismay and
secret wrath of Burghley, Walaingham, Sadler,
and the rest of the ministry. At this moment
Leicester, who was abroad, stepped in with what
he considered a master-piece of advice, propos-
ing a little quiet poison. Walaingham, who bod
the chief management of the affair, objected to
such a course as being contrary to God's law;
upon which the earl sent him a canting preacher
to prove that such means against such a person
were quite justifiable by Scripture, There was
then a talk of shortening the captive's life by
increasing the rigour of her treatment, which, iu
fact, had already been rigorous enough to make
11 sickly cripple of that once healthful and beau-
tiful woman. At last, giving herself up entirely
lo the advice of Walaingham, Elizabeth issued a
commission to try Mary and pronounce judgment
upon her according to the act I'ecently ])BSBed.
There was uo want of high uames or of legal

• HUtnts n Bit e. I. Bt thli ttatnM 11 hu euscted tint
Iwtoty-taof or won of Cbe privj dodiki] auJ Hgpdh of Loidi,
tu bfl (lepuMd tiy tho qiwon's opmrBJ^ton, iho^Ud nwk« iiiqiil

iii'tHuniDaT«r nnplajBd that migbt lay vluia b, liia DTawn of
EnglAncL^ And thAt thEpArwn forwlioni (iihy Khom tlwy thouM
att«iDpt tbff Hmtf. ■honlfk ht utterly Incapuble i>r thu erowa of
EngLand, dvpiiTerl vhoUj of jiU ri^Til irjd TItJ* to It. Mtd pro-
HCBtsd to daub b/iU hllhfal lubjicti, If

»Google

166

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

FOTBEunoa) CuuBca, >

autfaoritiM in this most illegnl eomnuBBion. There
were the Chancellor Bromley, the Lord-treaau-
rer Burghley, the Earla of Oxfort, Keat, Derby,
Worceater,Rutl»nd,CumberIand, Warwick, Pem-
broke, uid Liucoln; the Viacount Montagae, the
Ixirda Abergavenny, Zouch, Morley, Stafford,
Grey, Lmnley, Stourton, SandyB, Weiitworth,
I^fordiuit, St. Johu of Bletsoe,
<V>iuptou, and Cheney; Sir
Jamea Crqft, Sir ChrJBtopher
Jlatton, Sir Francia Walaing-
ham, Sir Ralph Sadler, Sir
Waller Mildmay, and Sir
Amyaa Pauletj Wray, ohiet-
jiiBticeof the Common Pleas;
Anderson, chief-juatice of the
King'a Bench ; Mfiuwood,
chief baron of the eicliequer;
and Gawdy, one of the jus-
ticea of the Common Flens.

Mary had been moved from
□ne prison to another, aacli
remove being to a worse place,
and to a harslier keeper. In
ihe apring of the preceding
year. Sir Ralph Sadler had
lieen appointed to take charge
of her, to hia own great giief ;
for Elizabeth bad become ao much alarmed, that
no degree of vigilance and severity towards the
captive could eatiafy her. There waa a aort of
poetical justice in what happened. Sir Ralph'a
old age was mode wretched through the Seuttish
queen, whoae power he had uuderiuioed by match-
leas intriguea iu her infancy, and he prayed for
death to deliver him from hia difficult charge
and his miatress'a jealousy. He waa superseded
by Sir Amyaa Paulet and Sir Drew Drury, both
fanatical Puritana, and frieuda of the Earl of
Leicester. About Chrietniaa they had carried
her, in a deplorable atate both of body and mind,
to Chutley Castle, in Staffordshire. On the 6th
of August, a few days before the arreat of Bal>-
ington, ahe was taken from Chartley, under pre-
text of an airing, and carried by force to Tixhsll,
in the aame county. She was carried back to
Chartley in a few weeks; but, in the interval, her
two faithful secretaries, Naue and Curie, had
been taken into cuatody and conveyed to Wal-
eingham'a houae, where they were kept; her ca-
binela at Chartley had been broken open, and a
large chest had been filled from them with lettera
and papers, and conveyed to Walsingham, On
tire 10th of Deeember, Paulet discharged what
ha called Mary'a stiperSuoua servants, and seized
all her money and jewela. Mary resisted at first;
"but,' he says, "I called my servants, and aeut
for bars to break open the doors, whereupon she
yielded." According to the jnilcr'a own account,

he found her in bed, Buffering greatly, and being
bereft of the use of one of her hands.' A few
days after the eieculioa of Babington and the
twelve other victims, orders were sent down to
Sir Amyas Faulet to remove Mary with all po^
sible care and vigitanoa from Chartley to Fother-
in gay Castle, in Nortbomptonshii'e.the last scene

TBI CuiLE.'— WluU>)''iN<>nliui|i(audiin.

of the captive'a sufferings. There had been for
soma time aatauding order to shoot the prisoner
if she were found trying to escape, or it any dan-
gerous attempt at rescue should be made. Paulet
again pretended that nothing more was meant
thou to revive the queen by giving her a change
of air; but, avoiding the public roads, he led her
al>out from one gentleman's buiise to another,
and Mary knew not whither ahe was going until,
at last, ahe saw herself Hhut up within the dismal
walls of Fotheriugay. When Elizabeth learned
that ahe waa aafely lodged there, her gratitude
burst forth in an unusual enthusiasm to the able
manager of the journey. "Amyas, my moft
faitlifu! and careful servant," wrote the queen to
the jailer, " God Almighty reward thee treble-
fold for thy most troublesome charge so well dis-
charged!" Shortly after, Paulet received orders,
"in case he heard any noise or diaturbance iu
Mary's lodgings, or in the place where ahe waa,'
to kill her outright, without waiting for any fur-
ther power or command. Before the trial, m

■ L«ttv fFDfn Bir AmjuM Pati]«t to WftlalnfhKtn. ■ii>iM«d hy
lUiuDV. At ttili nwoMnt «• end WaUnthuD Umaiitlni. ••

tha ought ; and he wlds. " Om aiiu do di

«r DjithaokftilDflH for Ul« fraat lud ■!

■d God W -

■ rothgrin^v Ci

tw «nlneDC« (o tbe right of Uis ohwh \ mad.

»Google

A.D. 1572—1587.] ELIZA

iift«r it, Elizabeth would bare preferred any kiud
of dekth to that of i.n execution under her owu
waiTiuit. But though Hhtv had a narrow escape
one night when the chimney of her wretched
(luiigeon took fire, she lived on. At length, on
the nth of October, thirty-six of the Englieh
commiasioDera arrived &t Fotherio^y Castle ;
and on the following day they sent Sir Walter
Mildmay, Faiilet, aud Barker, a public notary,
ta deliver to the prisoner a letter from Elizabeth,
charging her with being accessory to theBabing-
ton conspiracy, and informing her that they were
appointed to t*y her for tliat and for other trea-
soDa. Mary read the letter with compoaure, and
replied, with great diguity, to the eoramiaaionera,
that it grieved her to find her dear sister misin-
formedi that she had been kept in prison until
she was deprived of the use of her limba, not-
withstanding her having repeatedly offered rea-
sonable tind safe conditioiiH for her liberty; thnt
she had given her majeHty fidl and faithful notice
of several dangers which threatened her, and yet
had found no credit, but had always been slighted
and despised, thouj^h so nearly allied to ber ma-
jesty in blood ; that when the Protestant aaso-
ciation was entered into, and the confirming act
of parliament made upon it, she clearly foresaw
that, wliat«ver dangers should arise, either from
princes abroad, or ill-dispoaed people at home, or
for the Aake of religion, the whole blame would
l>e thrown upon her; that it seemed moat strange
that the queen should command her, her equal,
to submit to ati'ial as a subject; that ahe waa an
independent queen, and one timt would do no-
thing that might be prejudicial to her own ma-
jesty or to ber son's rights; that her mind would
not sink under the present calamity. " The kws
aud statutes of England," continued Mary, "are
nnknoivn to me; I am void of counsellors, and
cannot tell who shall be my peers. My notes and
papers are taken from me, and no one dares ap-
pear to be my advocate. I have committed no-
thing against the queen — have stirred up no man
against her, and am not to be charged but from
my own words or writings, which I am sure can-
not be produced agMnst me. Yet I cannot deny
that I have recommended myself and my condi-
tion to foreign princes," On tlie next diiy, Pau-
let and Barker returned to her From the coramis-
sionen, to ask whether ahe persinted in ber an-
swer. She replied that she did most firmly. "But
this," added ahe, "I had quite forgotten: the
queen mya I am subject to the laws of England,
and to be triad and judged by them, beconse I am
under the protection of them. But to this I an-
swer, that I came into England to demand ber
aid and assistance, and have ever since been de-
tained a prisoner, so that I could not enjoy the
protection of the laws of England; nor could I

BETH, 1 67

ever yet uiidenstnud what manner of laws Ihty
were." ' In the afternoon of the same day, there
went to her certain selected persons from among
the commissioners, "with men learned in the
civil and canon laws," to petnuade her to a com-
pliance. The Lord-chancellor Bromley and the
Lord-treasurer Burghley justified their authority
by their patent and commission; told her that
neither her state as a prisoner, nor her preroga-
tive as a queen, could exempt her from subjec-
tion to the laws of England, and threatened, if
she refused to plead, to proceed ngtunst her, al-
though she were absent. She replied, with un-
diminished firmness, that she was no subject, nor
liable to English law; that she would rather die
a thousand deaths than dishonour herself by any
such submission; that, however, ahe was willing
to answer all things in a free and full parliament;
aud that, as for this meeting, it might probably
be devised against her, wlio was already pre-
judged to die, to give some legal show and colour
to their proceedinga; and, theriffore, she desired
they would look to their consciences, and remem-
ber that the tlteatre of the whole world is much
wider than the kingdom of England,' She then
complained, in a touching manner, of ber hard
usage ; but Burghley interrupted her, aasuring
ber that the queen his mistress had always ti«at^
ed her with a rare kindness! A few hours after,
they sent her the list of the names of her jndgea,
"to let her see they designed to proceed by equity
and reason," Although neoily every name was
that of an inveterate enemy, she mode no excep-
tions against the commissioners, which would
have iteen useless; but— what was equally use-
less— she objected strongly to the late act, upon
which their commission was founded, as being
unjust and unprecedented, and purposely con-
trived to ruin her. She said that she coidd not
away with the queen's laws, which she had good
reason to suspect; but that she was heart-whole
still, and would not derogate from the honour of
her ancestors, the Kings of Scotland, by owning
herself a subject to the crown of England, and
that she would rather perish utterly than answer
.IS tJie queen's aubject and a criminal person.
Here Burghley interrupted her, saying, " We
will, nevertheless, proceed against you to-morrow,
as absent and contumax," Mary replied, "Look
to your consciences,"' Then the perfumed and
court-like Vice-chamberlain Hatton said, " If
you are innocent you have nothing to fear; but
by seeking to avoid a trial, you stain your repu-
tation with an everlasting blot." This timely
npeecli made a great impression, and on the fol-
lowing morning Mary consented to plead for tha
sake of her reputation, but on condition that her
protest against the authority of the court should

,^iV.■,

I Jliva g/ AlwAfU.

»Google

168

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

. AND Ml LIT ART.

\if nUowed. Burghley Enked ber if she would
nppear at lier trial, provided h*r protest was
entered iu writing, without being fully admitted
by them. Here Mary ought to have replied
with a decided n^^tive; but, in reality, protest
or DO protest was of the slightest conBt^iience;
and as they had threat«necl to proceed in her ab-
sence, and as they could easily force a weak and
liel pi ess woman to their bar, the qiieeii consented.
On the litth of October the coramissioneis as-
Bembled iu the presence-chamber of Ftitheringay
Castle. At the upper end of this hall was a va-
cant chair of state, royally canopied, as if for the
Queen of England, and " below it, and at oome
distfljice over against," was a chair witJioiit any
canopy, for the Queen of Scots. The com-
misHioners and their assistants, including the
most expert lawyera of the day, sat upon benches
placed towards the wall on either aide of the
apartment. Mary had no nssistatit — no papers
— no wituesBM ; for everything had been taken
from her: and yet, even according to the preju-
di(*d accounts of her enemies, she displayed won-
derful self-possession and address; and, in the
striking words of a modern, and perhaps too
favourable bistorian, she for two whole days
kept at l)ay tlie hunters of her life.' Upon her
first entrance, as soon as she had taken her seat,
the Chancellor Bromley told her that the moat
serene Queen Elizabeth, being informed, to her
great grief and trouble of mind, that she bad
conspired the destmction of her person and of
the realm of England, and the subversion of reli-
gion, had appointed this present commission to
liear how she could vindicate herself from the
charge, and make her innocence appear to the
world. Mary then ■■ose, and said, that she had
come into England as a friend and sister, te ask
the (dd which had been promised her, and had
ever since been detAiiied a prisoner: and then she
repeated her protest against the authority of the
court. The chancellor denied that any aid had
been promised her; but there he stopped, not
venturing to explain, promise or no promise, by
what law Eliwibeth had constituted her a state
prisoner, or attempt to lessen the odium which
had been cast ou the national hospitality. But
he told her that, as she had been living in Eng-
land, slie was subject to the English laws, and
that tbei-efore her protest could not be admitted.
It was, however, agreed that her i>rote8t should
1* recorded, together with the chancellor's reply
to it. They then read their commission at full
length, ami, as it was wholly founded upon the
late act, she again proUsted against the said act as
bfing made expressly againut herself. Bui^hley,
who would have had the grass growing over her
grave many years before, told her that the vali-

dity of laws and acts of pariiamrat did not de-
pend upon their antiqaity — that new laws weiv
as good as old ones, and equally binding— ■Uiot it
did not become her to apeak against them — and
that, in spite of her protests, they were all re-
solved to proceed agninst her by that said act of
parliament. Mary said that she was ready to
hear and answer concerning any fact against
Queen Elizabeth. Then Gawdy, the queen's Ser-
jeant, opene*! the case against her with an histo-
rical account of Babington's conspiracy; asBertiog.
at the close of his oration, that she knew of it, ap-
proved it, assented to it, promised her assiatance,
and showed the way and means for effecting it.
When the Serjeant had done speaking, sundry
co^i«i of letters which were said to have been
written to her by Babington, and by her to Bab-
ington and others, were produced. Accordtngto
these second-hand documents, which contained n
scheme of the whole conspiracy, the captive queen
had not only invited foreign powers to the inva-
sion of England, but had also encouraged Babing-
ton and his associates to aaansainate their sove-
reign. During the reading of these letters Mary
was calm ; but when, in the Inst letter, mention
was made of the unfortunate Earl of Amnde),
the son of the Duke of Norfolk, she bnrst into
tears, and said, " Alas! what has the noble house
of Howard endored for my sake !* But, presently
drying her tears, she replied to this part of the
evidence, declaring that she knew not Babington,
nor ever received any such letters from him, imr
wrote any such to him— that they who pretended
that she had written to Babington ought to pro-
duce her letters iu her own hand-writing, ainl
that if Babington wrote letters to ber they ought
to prove that she received them. There was, in-
deed, she said, a packet of letters put iuto her
hand about the time alleged, but they had been
written almost a year before, and she kuew not
who sent them. She said that mauy persons,
com pass! ouatiug her hard fate, had secretly maile
her offers of service, but that she neither excited
nor encouraged any of these, thongh she, a close
prisoner, cut off from the world, and for long
periods from all knowledge of what was passing
in it, could not hinder their enterprises. She
was not answerable for the deeds of othei-s. She
had, indeed, used her best endeavours for the re-
covery of her liberty, as iiJitiire itself dictated
and allowed ; and to this end she had solicited
the affiistance of her friends. Others might lun^e
attempted dangerous designs without her know-
ledge; and it was an easy matter to counterfeit
ciphers and characters. Although she deuieil
promiitiug an invasion of England, she was less
emphatic on that point thau on the accusation of
being privy to the plot agtunst Elizabeth's life:
here she vowed repeatedly that she would never

»Google

*.D. la?;— 1M7.]

ELIZABETH.

nuike aliipwreck of her soul bj engs^g in such
a Uoody cnnte. In reply to a letter said to have
been written by her to provok« an JDvasioii, she
declared that she auspected Wal^gliMn as the
author of that letter ; and Walaingham, in hxt,
had handled eveiy letter in his own wa;.' But
the bronzed aeeretaiy stood up in hia place, and
lolemnlj called God to nitneee that he had done
nothing in nudice,iiothiiigiu)worthy of an honest
man: and no doubt he thought that an honest man
m^t da more than he had ever done for the salce
of the qoeeD and the FrotealAnt tettlement. The
greateat wei^t of evidence was made to lie in the
confeaaion of Babingtun, and the extorted depoei-
tions of her own servauts, Naue and Curie. In
regortl to BabingCou, she objected that, if her
advnrtariea had wiahed to discover the truth,
they woald have liept him for a witneas, instead
of putting him to death — that hia confession, if
reall J made in the manner nov Bet forth, was of no
valoe, aa it might have been dictated by the hope
of merej : aa to the secretaries, she replied that
Naae was a simple and timid man, and that Curie
was the follower of Nans; their depnaitionstuight
have proceeded from their anxiety to save their
own lives. Naue, she said, had formerly com-
mitted the oSence of writing certain things in
her name without her authority. Bhe demanded
to be confronted with her two oecretariea : the
commiamonera refused to produce them. Then
Mary urged that the majesty and safety of priU'
CCS muat fall to the ground if they were to de-
• pend in this manner upon tlie writing and teitti-
mony of se<»^tarie« — that she wEis sure, if Naue
and Curie were there present, they would clear
her of all blame in this case— tliat if they hud
not taken away all her notes and papers, she
might answer more particularly to what was ob-
jected. There was auother and a strong objection
to the testimony of Naue and Curie, even if their
depaeitioDS were free aud ongarbled : they had
both been awom, as secretaries, to keep her .se-
creta^ if they had accused her truly they hod
perjured themselves to her; if falsely, they per-
jured themselves to the Queen of Englaud.' Tlie
praeecotoni read the heads of aeveml letters, ad
dre«ed to the lately expelled Spanish ambassa-
dor, Menduzn, and to Sir t^-ancis Euglefield.
(.liarlea Paget, and other Englishmeu abroad,
among whom was one Morgan, who had ull along
been in the pay of Waleinghum. We have no
doubt, in our own minds, tliat the captive queen.

her despair, wrote letters of thia kind, approv-
ing of a [dan of invaaioD, and offering to contri-
bute to ita success, by inducing her friends in
ScotUnd to take up arms, to seize the person of
James, and to prevent Elizabeth's friends from
inding Scottish troops to her assiatance; and it
is quite certain, from the perfect machinery he
had at work, that Walsingham might obtain
tssion both of her despatchea and of the let-
ters wiitten to her from abroad. It was not,
however, considered decent to explain the nature
of this machinery, and it was alleged that tlie
ori^pnal drafts of these despat^ihes and the foreign
letters were all found amongst her papers at
Chartley^a most improbable circumstance, con-
sidering the situation of Mai'y, liable every mo-
': to intrusion and seizure. And yet some of
these letters from abroad, g^arhled aa they might
have been, went luther to disprove than to prove
Mary's actual participatiou in the plots against
Elizabeth's life. In regard to the whole of them,
Mary said that they bore no relation to the de-
struction of the queen ; and, if foreigners endea-
voured to set her at liberty, that was not to be
mputed to her as a crime : she had at several
times let the queen know that she would seek to
procure her release from that hard captivity in
which she had been kept for nearly twenty years.
The commissioners insisted that it was fully
proved, by some short paasages in letters she ha^l
written to Mendoza, that there was a design on
lier part to convey her right in the English suc-
cession to the King of Spain. To this charge she
replied, that being a close prisoner, oppressed
with cares and deprived of all hope of liberty,
and daily declining through sicknesaand sorrow,
she had been advised by some to settle the suc-
cession upon the Spaniard, or upon tome Eng-
lish Catholic; and that she had given offence to
of lier friends by refusing to approve of any
such scheme. " But," she added, " when all my
liopea of Euglaud became desperate, I resolved
o reject foreign help." She again desired
that her papers and her secretaries Naue and
Curie might he prodaced, and this was again re-
fused: she requested an adjoummeut, with the
aid of counsel, and this was refused. She again
demanded to be heard in full parliament, or
that she might speak with the queen in conn-
in person. The oommissioneni, who liad re-
'ed fresh instructions from Elizabeth, would
grant nothing; but the chief of them, including

,'' Affl CauhWti, " whftdi d«7HHled whollj open

tbs cndft of b>i MO

taUriH. ind thsr IM( Mn« tuvagbt bH

IKK«P

»rkwdi»»n«*ii

»ngtl»p»pl.,- •■

■■Nbb'. .pologT"

Um Jm-1. to ISM,

Ht b* hut MooUr appcmtd Uw prinopal

«iota. of «<i-«oii ngiO-t hh mlrti—

whW..pi«™h'«i

bjUttlnoOMlini..-'

,v Google

170

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[C.v

Burghley, Walsingham, anii Uattou, took her
Aput from the rest — ahe riaiug up, " with great
preseni.'e uf countenauce," bhvs Uiundeu — iuid
apoku to her for soiue time. During this secret
uoiiferenoe Uiuy wan obaerveil to be much agi-
tated. The commigaiouera then Eidjoumed tlie
KMSembly to the 25th of October, theu to meet not
iu presence of the prisoner, nor iu Putheriu-
gay Castle, but iu the Star Ciuimber at West-
tuinst«r.

On the appointed day the comtniseiouera, with
the exception of the £aj-lB of Warwick and
Shrevabury, luaembled iu the Star Chamber, to
wliich other lorda were summoned. They nOK
brought before them Naue oud Curie, who affirm-
ed upon oath, and, aa it was eipresaed, "only iu
respect of the truth, fmnklyand voluntarily, with-
out any torture, coDStmint, or threatening," that
the letters, and copiesof letters, before mentioned,
were genuine and true; and that all was true
which they had before confeesed and subscribed.
This over, without any further ceremony, the
court pronounced sentence against Mary, daugh-
ter of James v., comtiiouly called Queen of Scot-
land; "for that since tlie conclusion of the session
of parliament, viz., since the lat day of June, iu
the tweiity-aeveuth year of her majesty's I'eign,
and before the date of the commission, divers
matters have been compassed anil imagined
withiu this realm of England by Anthony Bab-
ingtou aud others, with the privity of the said
Mary, pretending a title U) the crown of this
realm of England, teni'.ing to the hurt, death,
and destruction of tlie royal peiiion of our lady
the queen: aud also for that the aforesaid Mary,
pretending a title to the crown, hath herself com-
passed and imagined within this realm divers
ualt^ra tending to the hurt, death, and destn)c-
tiou of the royal person of our sovereign lady the
queen, contrary to the form of the statute in the
commission aforesaid specified.'"

Mary clearly foi-eaaw that the departure of the
commissioners from t'otheriiigay wonid lie fol-
lowed by the arrival of the exei'utiuner; aud she
t4>l(l Sir Amyaa Paulet that history made men-
tion how the realm of England wait used to nlieil
royal blood. But tliuugh Elizabeth liad pro-
cured a aeutence, she paused iit the prospect of
the block, being resolved, as was usual with her,
to make the weight of blooil seem to fall upon
others. And there were others, Including the
highest uaiueo in the kingdom, and among the
represeutativea of the people, who seemed quite
ready t<i take the burdeu upon their own con-
lU'ieDoe*!. Uu the 20th of October, four days aftei-
the passing of the sentence, the )Hir1iaiiieut ii>

• BmiMt Fapm; JfcnlvM Fn^n.- CtoMdm.- Uvw^. SiO
Mill, RiuiHr, (Ml Wrifkl.

sembled, aud on the 12th of November both
houses, oddreHsiiig the queen, implored her li>
give orders for the immediate execution of the
Queen of Scots, Mr. Serjeant Puckering, the
speaker, in name of the commons, pointed out
the very dangerous consequences of ^tpa^iuK any
longer the life of that wicked woman. . He theu
quoted examples from the Bible of rulers whu had
incurred the vengeance of the Almighty by dhow-
ing mercy to their euemien, as Saul, wbo bod
Bsved KingAgng, and Ahab, who had preserveil
Benhodad. The speaker eude<l by saying ihat
they relied upon her princely resolution, aud that
they accounted the execution ns a thing that
would be unto Qud most acieptable. Elisabeth
commenced her reply by expressing gratitude for
the special cai-e which Provideucti hod taken of
her, and by asserting that her uature was so de-
void of malice, that even uow, although slie liBil
been convicted of treason, if she tliought Mary
would repent, and ber emissaiiea not puraue
their designs — or, that if they were two milk-
I maids, with pails upon their arms, aud it waji
merely a. question which involved her own life
without eudaugeriug the religion and welfare of
her people— she would roost willingly pardon all
her ulfences. She then (mthetically declared that
if, by her own death, the kingdom might l>e bet-
tered, she would willingly die, liaving nothing
worth living for. Nextshe reproached the house
for their frequently standing more ujiun form
than matter— more upon the words than the
sense of the law; complaining that the late act of *
parliament aliout treasons (which had been de-
vised iu her own closet) bad bivught her into
a great strait, by obliging her to give directions
for her kiuawomou's death, which wax to her n
most griex'iiiM and irksome burden. But, then,
changing ner tone to keep up the pauic-alartn.
and the cry for blood, she said that she would
tell them a secret ; that she lately eaw it written
that an iwth was taken within a few days by oei--
tainpersimseitliertukilMierortobi-hiuigedlhem-
selves, aud thereupon xbe exi>reHsed her mindful-
ness of their oirii oalh nf atrnK-iation for the secu-
rity of her jterson. She ended hei' lung discourse
by saying " tlut i>he Ihoucht it ivipuxite, with
earnest prayer, to beseech the l>iviue Majesty hi>
to illuminate her understanding, aud tu inspire
her with his gmce, tlmt slie might see clearly to
do and determine that which should sen's to thv
establishment iif His church, preservation of Iheir
estates, and the |>ro«perity of the commouwealtli
under her charge; wherein, an alie knew delays
are daiigemuH, they should, with oil couveuieuce,
have her reaolutiun.' When a few days had
pawed, slie sent a message t« the lords and oom-
mona, earnestly charging Uiem to consider whe-
ther some iither means might not be suggeBled.

»Google

4,i>. 1DT2— 1&S7.]

ELIZABETH.

171

The two lioiueM ilelibdrHtud mid uuufmred with
one iiiiath«r, uid theu untuiirauuely replied tlut
no other souuil aiiit uiHured laeana could bi: de-
vised for the naivty of the realm, religion, and
kei inajest/B jierMu. But Elizxbeth had no
doae acting. In reply to thi» address she said
thiit she bad hud a fearful struggle with berself
— that she had entertained a greedy desire and
hungry will that their cuusultatlonH might have
had another issue — thatBhemustconiplam,thongh
not uf them,aii(o tbeni; for that she i>erueiYedby
their advice, prayers, and desires, that oiily her
injurer'H bane mnst be hei- security. But, in the
luenntioie, whispers had been spi-ead abroad by
those who knew Elizabeth's character, and these
runiouTB she inet by declaring, that if any per-
sons were so wicked as to suppose that she pro-
longed this time only to make a show oF clemency,
they did her so great a wrong as they could hardly
recompense — that she, in referring the subject of
Mary's eiecutiou to parliament, had earnestly
desired tlial every one should act in that matter
according to his conscience, and that, if her
ministcTB had not signified as much to them,
they had not done their duty towards her. She
said that she bad just cause to complain that she,
who had pardoned so many rebels, and winked
at so many treasons, should now be obliged to take
the life of such a person. Many opprobrious
hooks and pamphlets had accused her of being a
tyrant, which was, indeed, news to her; but what
would they now say if a mvden queen should
spill the blood of her own kiuswomaol Yet it
were a foolish course to cherish a sword to cut
her own throat ; and she was infinitely beholden
to them who sought to preserve her life, Then
she reverted to a round-about, oracular style,
saying, " If I should say I will not do what you
require, it might, peradveuture, be saying raore
than I mean ; and if I should say I will dd'ft, it
might, perhaps, breed greater peril than those
from which you would protect me." 8he then
gave a few comfortable words to the members
before they returned to their counties, and dis-
misseil tham.'

A few days after, on the 6tb of December, she
ordered the sentence of death to be proclaimed
in various parts of London and in other places,
which was done in great state, and with infinite
rejoicings. In Ijondon every house was illu-
minated, the beils were rung from every steeple,
bonlirea were lit in every street, and there was a
great singing of psalms in all parts of the city.'
Lord Bnckhunit and Mr. Robert Beale, accom-
panied by a great troop, were sent to Fotheringay
Castle to announce her doom to the captive, ami
to tell her in Elizabeth's name what especial fa-
Tour had been shown to her in her trial by the

appointment ot many distinguished noblemen
and the whole of the privy council to be her
judges, instead of obliging her to appear before
the comiaou criminal courU, Buckhurst ami
Beale were instructed to obtain, if possible, a
confession of guilt from Mary, who, it waa cal-
culated, would lose heart and courage at the
close prospect of death. But Elizabeth had
formed a wrong estimate ot the strength of her
rival's character. Mary, whatever may have
been her former errora or guilt, suffered and died
like a heroine and a martyr. She received the
message, not merely with firmness but with cheer-
fulness, saying that she was a-weary of this world
and glad that her troubles were about to end.
Tlie two messengers were accompanied by a Pro-
testant bishop and a dean, according to iheir no-
tion, to direct her conscience and administer spi-
ritual comfort in this ex ti'emity— according to
ier notion, to persecute her with their heretical
intolerance in her last moments. She wholly
rejected their assistance, but begged, in the blessed
name of Christ, that she might be attended by
her own almoner, who was in the castle, though
long since separated from her. Buckhurst and
the Prot«stant priests harshly told her that, do
what she might, she could hardly die a saint,
even in Catholic eyes, seeing that she had been
fairly condemned for attempting to murder their
queen. Once more Mary, with the name of her
Savioar in her mouth, denied that she bad ever
devised, counselled, or commanded the death of
Queen Elizabeth. When left to herself and her
Catholic chaplain, she wrote a letter to the pope
and another to the Archbishop of Glaisgow, in
rbich she called upon her relatives of the house
of Guise, who bad been accused equally with
herself, to vindicate her character. A few days
after, her jailers. Sir Amyas Pautet and Sir Drew
Drury, informed her that, as she bad refused to
make any submission or confession, and as she
was now dead in law, she had no right to the in-
signia of royalty which hitherto had been left to
her in her prison. Mary replied that she was an
anointed queen -that, in spite of Elizabeth, her
council, and her heretical judges, she would still
die a queen. When Paulet's servants took down
her canopy of state, and disrobed her of the regal
oruamenta, the austere Puritan himself sat down
with hifl hat on in her presence. Mary then
wrote her last letter to her rival, telling her that
her mind was free from malice and resentment
— that she thanked God that he was now pleased
to put an end to her troublesome pilgrimage — -
that the only favours she would ask were that
she might not be privately put to death, and that
)ier servants and others might be allowed to
witness her end' — that her faithful attendsnta

I

,v Google

172

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil, t

0 Ml LIT ART.

luifjlit Lave liberty to leave Euglaiid without dis-
tiirboDce, and quietJy enjoy the email legacies
she had bequeathed them, aud that her body
might be oiiveyed fi>r interment to France.
These thi[igB she besought her to grant in the
name of Christ, bj their near relationship, by
the memory of Henry VII., their common ances-
tor, and by hor own royal dignity.

In the meanwhile Henrj- III., King of Finance,
had sent over BelliSvre as a special arabaasador
to intercede for Mary'a life, Bellievre was a
pedant and a poor negotiator, but there seems to
be uo good reason for suspecting his sincerity.
Elizabeth, ncconling to the report of bin miseion,
ileferred, with infinite malice, giving him au-
dience, pretending, first, that some birod assas-
sins, unknown to him, had got mixed in his
I'etinue, with the design of t&king her life; and
then, that the plague had broken out among bis
followers cm their journey. It waa while she
was sending these evasive answers to Belli^vre
that parliament proceeded to confirm the sentence
and to press for the execution. At last, on the
7th of December, she sent for the ambassador to
liicbmond, where she received him, seated ou
II throne and surrouuded by her chief lords.
Bellii^vre remonstrated in forcible language. Eli-
zalteth betrayed signs of strong emotion, bot met
all bis rejiresentations with the reply that this
was the third time the Queen of Scots had at-
tempted her life. According to De Thou, Bel-
liSvre pledged his sovereign's word thai tlie Duke
of Guise would give bis own sons as hostages for
the future conduct of Mary, if her life were
spared. Elizabeth told him, in a word, that such
guarantees would be of little use when she was
murdered. Bellidvre returned to London, where
he remained some days, anxiously wtiiting for a
definitive answer, and then, getting none, he in-
timated that as they had proceeded even to the
recordingof a sentence of death there was no need
for his making a longer stay iii England, and he
demanded bis passport. Eliiabeth neither sent
him an answer nor his passport He wrote again
and requested an audience — she was indisposed
and could not be seen : be caused a letter to be
put into the hands of Walsingbain, wbo enga^d
to get an answer the next day. On the next
day BeltiSvTe received a verbal metiage, that the
queen was pleased to grant a delay of twelve
diiys. He still lingered about court, in the hopes
of doing some service; and, on the 0th of Janu-
ary, 1587, when Mary had been prepared to die,

be was summoned to Qreeuwich, where Elizabeth
condescended to hear at length his arguments
agunst the execution of the infamous sentence.
His pleading was interlarded with references to
classical history, philosophy, poetry, and the Old
Testament: but these things were after the taste
of the queen and her court. He told her that
the race of common and low people is of lead,
but that of kings is of gold — that from royally
royal deeds are looked for^that princes, though
not always equal in grandeur and power, are
equal in royal dignity and (be right which cornea
from Heaven — that it would be a bad example to
show the world that princes could die on a block
like common people. Vet some of his nrgumentfl
were well put and unanswerable. In reply to the
position that strangers, even of I'oyal dignity, are
subject to the laws of the country which they
have chosen for their residence, ha said that it
was necessary to prove a free choice, and that
the world knew the Queen of Scots had been
kept in England wholly against her will. Eliza-
beth heard the ambassador with tolerable pa-
tience until he told her that if she proceeded to
such rigorous and extraordinary judgment his
master could not do otherwise than resent it : hIic
then expressed herself in terms " almost of in-
dignity.' Bellifivre then prepared to depart, but
he was requested to remain a few days longer.
On the 14th of January he received his passport
and went his way, with the conviction that hi»
intercession had been fruitless, and that no-
thing could allay the queen's thirst for revt^nge.'
L'Aubespine de Cbateannenf, the i-esident am-
bassadoi', resumed the ncgotintioni hut he was
presently silenced by Ijeing accused of taking
part in a new plot to assassinate Queen Elizabeth.
The queen and her ministers, indeed, pretended
that they gave no credit to this foul charge, but
they nevertheless intercepted his despatches and
threw hissecretary into prison. The French king,
in his rage, interrupted his diplomatic relations;
but being made to feel that the insultwasamere
trick to prevent further interference, he soon sent
over another envoy to interpose l>etween Mary
and the scaffold.

In the course of nature James of Scotland.
though a less powerful sovereign, ought to have
been infinitely more earnest than Henry of
France; but James wasglnd that his own mother
should be kept in a captivity which left to him
the occupation of the throne^' he was besides
always slow and inert; and he may possibly have

• IMlltT

U bit «i AQiMma. pu M.

B ponuu tltiich«d Co the uabutj ,

1 On ttiA^th of Octobnr. 1&BS» when Ellubeth wju prap&rinv
hor Domnilnion for Fothfrringaj Cialle. JuAd told Coanrilet,
thd Fnncb MabwaJor, thil be b>ved bin nathsr ■■ tnisob ■■
baton ftnd datj commvidflil. bqt bB«mbl not Jlkt berfiObdDcC,
■ud 1[»ew Tsiy waU tliat sbelud iiomonc™il vUltowmplabiiu

»Googie

4D- 1372— IMT] ELIZA

conifurted hiniseK with a doubt whether Eliza-
beth irould really proceed to execntiou. The
King of France certainly thought it uecesaary to
aw&keu this tender sou to a mum of hie parent's
danger, luid about & mouth after sentence was
passed in the Star Ctiaiuber he exhorted him by
nil meaua to take hia mother's part.' Ou the
last daji of November, 15S6, the French ambns-
sador iiiformed his maater that Ktug Jamea had
pn>tuis«d to intercede for his mother through his
ambassador, Eeith, "an honest mac, but rather
English;' that Kiug James had told him, in his
oraculnr way, that the case of the queen hia
mother n'os the most strange that ever was heard
of, and that there was uothiug like it since the
creation of the world; that he had writteu witii
his own hand to Elizabeth, and to four or live
great men in Eughind, as also to Walsiughani,
telling the latter, in particular, to desist from
his bad offices, for otherwise he, James, might
du him some displeasure. " But," contiuuee the
ambassador, "several lords and great roeu are
dissatisfied that he hath sent Keith, a man of so
little importance, and a pensionary of England.
They say that in an affair of such consequence,
IB whidi the life of his mother is concerned,
vbich ought to be as dear to him as his own.
might he not have found in his kingdom suuil-
othera who would have considered the mission
aa an honour, and would have devoted their lives
and property to it, if it had been necc-ssury —
oSeriug, too, to undertake the journey at their
oivu expense) This leads them to imagine that
tbere is some secret understanding with the
Queen of England, in which they are further
confirmed, because the inatrnctiona for Keith
were diiiwo up by the kitig, Lethiugton, and
Uray, without being communicated to auy of
the others." At this time Jomes'a resident am-
bassador at Elizabetli's court was the notori-
ous Archibald DougUa— an appoiDtnieut about
equally disgraceful to both courts. There was a
talk of sending the new £ai-l of Bothwell, Francis
Stuart — a grandson of James V. by his natural
■on John, styled Prior of Coldingham — an im-
petuous and frank man, devoted to Mary, to nt^o-
tiate for her at this extremity; but tliis project was
defeated by the intrigues anil artifices of Archi-
bald Douglas. A month later Courcelles com-
phtiaed that the King of Scotland did not seem to
have much at heart any embassy in his mother's
favour.' The king however made, through Eeith,

BETH ■ 173

something like a spirited remonstrance, at which
Elizabeth was so em-aged, that she was well nigh
driving her poor pensioner from her presence.
James instantly took the alarm, and wrote an

bumble latter of apology, declaring that he did
not impute to her personally or directly the
blame of anything that had been done against
his mother, and he only besought her to suspend
further proceedings until the arrival of the Master
of Gray. At the mention of this name Elizabeth
must have been satisfied, for the Master of Oray
was a venal courtier who had long been in her
interests.' There were, however, some lords in
the Scottish council who were more anxious about
Maiy than was her own aon, or who knew the
character of the Master of Oray better than
James did ; and, at the instance of these men.
Sir Robert Melville was joined in commission
with Gray. Melville exerted himself l-o the
utmoat to save the queen's life — Gray assured
the English court that no mischief would ensue
from her death. At their first audience Eliza-
beth declkred to them that she was immeasurably
sorry that there could he no means found to save
the life of their king's mother with assurance of
her own— that she had laboured hard to preserve
the life of both, but it could not be. At a second
audience, the Master of Gray requested to know
whether Queen Mary were alive, tor a rumour
iiad got abroad that she had been privately
despatched. "As yet," replied Elizabeth, "I be-
lieve she lives, but I will not promise fur an
hour." Melville trusted that the poor queen
might be allowed to live on, seeing that the chief
nobility of Scotland were ready to deliver them-
selves as hostages that no other plot or enterprise
should be made on her account against the Eng-
lish crown; or that, if it pleased Elizabeth to
send her into Scotland, King Jamea would en-
gage himself that no harm should ever be done
by her or on her account. Elizabeth, turning to
the Earl of Leicester and others of her favourite
lords, expressed her scorn and contempt both of
the King of Scots and these his proposals. She
was then aaked by the Scottish envoys how the
Queen of Scots could really be esteemed so dan-
gerous? " Because she is a Papist, and they say
she shall succeed lo my throne," was the harsh
but honest reply of Elizabeth. It was replied
that Mary would divest herself of her right in the
English succession in favour of faer son. Thi*
was an allusion which Elizabeth could never bear,

thii«i, that ba hid mm IMUn in Iw buHl-<rrillDg, whtch
pniiiil hm lU-wlU lowuili bim, uhI that ba know leij well
that lb* bad Euad4 fraqmnt Bttempta to appotut a mgent In
DoMlaud. tud dapriT* him of thalhiuna,— Imunrr.

■ Latter Auto Utnrjr 111. la Co(l^aUB^ Ilia Frenoh ■—■— —
dor <n Scotland -Aa~»rr.

« klllg will CD

dared that ba wi

to dorlvA advantagH

hlnusll H* inaiUnlT di
I connunca nx with Encland. ««]
ilclude him from the BucceHaiau la th>

tilth of .\ijgufit, DuTfrhlej anten in h
^flOP, deUveiad to tha Uutar of Qni
alu footmen iu Suotlaud tOi Uh Lo

»Google

174

HISTOBY OF EXQLAND.

[Civil a

and luaiiig all l«m|M!r she shrieked, "She liatli
iit> such right ! She is declared ioc&pable oE suc-
ceeding!' Upon this it was ni^ed thnt there
was then an end ot danger from the Fapist«, and
that Mar;, being so debarred, could not be bo
veiy perilous. But Elizabeth said, that though
Mary's right waa indeed annulled, the Papiats
still considered it as existing. The rejoinder wns
inevitable: if the Queen of Scots gnve up all
right in favonr of her son, who was a Prot«atant,
she could never again pretend to claim tt, and
her renunciation ahould proceed with consent of
friends, and in free and legal form. I^iceBt«r
ezplaiued that the King of Scots would tlina be
placed, with regard to the succession, in precisely
the same position as bis mother now occupied.
Elizabeth, who hated all successors, Catlioiic
or Protestant, screamed again — " Is that your
meaning! Then should I put myself in worse
case than before ! By God's passion, this were to
cut mine own throat ! He shall never conie into
that place or be party with me !" Gray replied
that the King of Scotland must become party
with her majesty when he succeeded by his
mother's death to her claims of every kind. The
queen cut short the conference by telluig them
that it waa the that had kept the crown on their
king's head ever since his infancy. She then
turned to leave the room. Sir Robert Melville
followed her, tenderly beseeching her to delay
the execution. She exclaimed " No ! not for an
hour!" and disappeared. Upon receiving intelli-
gence of this conference, James assumed for a
moment a more becoming tone, an<) in a letter
written with hia own hand to the Master of
Gray, be charged him to spare no pains nor plain-
ness in this ease— to be no longer reserved in
dealing for his mother, for he had been so too
long. But at this moment Gray was bargaining
with Leicester and Walsingham, and privately
telling Eliubeth that "a dead woman bites not."
Walsingham at the same time wrote to James,
expressing his surprise at bis interference to
rescue the mother that bore him from a bloody
grave, and telling him that, as a Protestant
prince, he ought to feel that his mother's life
was inconsistent with the safety of the Reformed
churches of England and Seotiand. To maintain
his dignity James recalled from the English c<)urt
his ambassadors, who, with the exception of Mel-
ville, had sold his mother's blood. And what was
the next proceeding of this king, the descendant
nf a hundred kings I Did he call an army to the
Bor(ler»l--No ! He issued an order to the Scot-
tish clergy to rememl>er his mother in their public
prayers — and, with very few exceptions, they re-
fused to ]iray for the idolater and Papist.

Elizabeth was not wholly without nhirm at the
recal of the Scottish anibnssadorsi but JameH'H

strange conduct gave her confidence. Still, how-
ever, she seemed undecided, and was constantly
heard muttering t« herwlf, Aut fer, aut/im: n*
ferian feri.' It was again deliberate.1 in the
cabinet, whether it would not be better to dis-
pose of Mary secretly. At this moment Walsing-
ham, who had managed the whole matter' very
prudently, got up a lit of sickness, and, withdraw-
ing from the court, left the after responsibility
to fall ou Secretary Davison. Shortly after re-
ceiving the petition of parliament to carry the
sentence into execution, Elizabeth had caused the
Lord-treasurer Burghley to draw out the death-
warrant. Burghley gave this warrant to Davison
to get it engrossed, ordering liim to bring it for
the queen's signature as soon as it was done.
When Davison presented the warrant to Eliza-
beth, she commanded him to reserve it till a
mora convenient season.' He accordingly kept
it by him five or six weeks, during which time
Leicester severely reprimanded him for not pre-
senting it, and Burghley once reproved him in
Elizabeth's hearing for not bringing it up. On
the Ist of Febniary, a few days after the depar-
ture of James's ambaBsadors, Davison was sent
for primUdi/, to bring the warrant that the queen
might sign it. At this very time, to keep up the
alarm, reports were spread all over the kingdom,
that London was set on fire by the Papista, that
the Duke of Guise was landed, that Mary had
escaped, that Queen Elizabetli was murdered.
The Protestants became almost frantic; and still
further to prolong the illusion, a hue and cry
was published by order of government for tlip
apprehension of Mary, as if she had really bro-
ken the strong walls of Fotheringay Castle. This
time, when Davison presented the warrant, Eliza-
beth, after reading it, called for pen and ink,
signed it, and laid it down by her upon the mats,
telling him that she had been induced to dirlay,
out of regard to her own reputation, wishing it
to appear that she had not violently adopted th(>
measure from any feeling of malice or revenge
towards the Queen of Scots. After some flippant
discourse, some smiles, and some irony, she told
the secretary to take np the warrant and carry
it immeiliiktely to the great seal, cautioning him
to get it sealed as privately ai pottiUe, as she
entertained suspicions of persons about the lonl-
chancetlnr, and feared that, if the warrant wer^-
divulged befoi-e it was executed, it might \n-

I Fltlier bmr nilb tier, or wnIM har: Mclk*, lot lUuu I.-

»Google

I. 1373—1587.]

EUZABETir.

175

cre*se her owu persoual danger. She expressly
comnu^kded him to use despatch, tmd to send
down tha w&rnmt to Fotheriugfty Castle with-
out troubling her agfuu on the subject, or letting
her hear anjrthing more about it iiutil it was
executed. DaviaoD offered to go to the chan-
cellor forthwith, but ehe commanded him to
wail till the evening. She deeired bim op his
way to call on Walaingham, who had token to
hia bed, and to tell him that she hod signed the
warntnt; " because," aa she sud jestingly, " the
grief he «ill feel on learning it will nearly kill
him outright." Davisou was leaving the apart-
ment, when she began a complaint agniost Sir
Amyas Faulet and others, who, aa she sidd, might
have reudeied the signing of the waiTant unua-
ceasaiy; and she expressed a wish or a hint that
Dnviaon or Walsingham might yet write both
to Sir Amyaa and Sir Drew Drury, in order to
Miutul their disposition as ta privUely deepatch-
iug the Queen of Soots ! Davison, who had al-
waya shrunk from the secret murder, assured
her that it would be merely labour lost; but,
finding her extremely deurous to have such a
l«ttar written to the two jailers, he says that to
aatiafy her, he promised to signify her plea-
sure, and then took his leave. On his way
from the royal apnrtment the aeuretary called
upon Bitrghley, and found him at home, cloiieted
with Leicester; be showed his warrant, and they
both enjoined him to usa despatoh and neglect
all other bumnesa. Later in the day he called
iipau Walsingfaaoi, showed tlie warrant, and ar-
ranged with him the matter of a letter to Sir Aiu-
yas Paulet and Sir Di-ew Drury. Ue then pro-
ceeded to the lord-chancellor^a, where, when it
waa almost dai4t, at about live o'clock in the even-
ing, the great seal was put to the warnint. From
the chancellor's he returned to Walaiugham'H,
and found the tettnr reitiiy to Iw despatched.
According to this infamous document, though
WalsiDgham and Davison recoiled themselves
from secret sssassbatioii, they were capable at
their mistresf^s command, of recommending it to
others. They told Sir Amyas Paulet that they
found by speech lately uttered by her majesty,
that she doth uoto in thum 1xith (Paulet and
Brury} a lack of thut cam and zeal that slie
lookMl for at their hands, in tliat tbey had not in
all thie time, of themselves, without other provo-
cation, found out some way (□ thmlen the Ufa of
lAai queea. " Whereiu," continue W^singham
and Davisou, " besides a kind of lack of love to-
wards her, she nototb greatly thut you have not
that care of your own particular safeties, or rather
of the preservation of religion and the public
good, and prosperity of your country, that rea-
son and policy commandeth, especially having so
(!ood a warrant and ground for the satisfaction

of your conscience towards God, and the dis-
cbarge of your credit and reputation towards the
world, (u tht oalk of aaociatiim which you both
have so solemnly taken aud vowed, and especially
the matter wherewith she standeth charged being
BO clearly aud manifestly proved against her.
And therefore she taketh it most unkindly to-
wards her, that uieu profeeaing that love towards
her that you do, should, in any kind of sort, for
lack of the diHcbarge of your duties, cast the bur-
den upon A«r; knowing, as you do, her indisposi-
tion to shed blood, especially of one of that sex
aud quality, and ao near to her in blood as the
said queen is.*' Upon leaving Walsinghani, Dsi-
vison went to hia owu house in London, where
he slept. The next morning, about ten o'clock
(no very early hour for those times), filizabetli
sent for him, and asked whether the warrant
hud passed the gi-eat seal: he informed her
that it had. She asked why he had used such
haste? Davison repUed, that he had used Uo

one of his narratives he observes, that, as twenty-
four hours had elapsed since she had given him
orders to get the warrant sealed, she could not
suppose that he had not obeyed her commands.
He asked her whether it was still her inten-
tion to proceed with the aSkir, and she replied
that it was, though she thought it might have
beeu belter bandied, because this present course
threw the whole burden upon herself. Davison
obsei-ved, that be knew not who else could hear
it, seeing her taws made it murder in any
man to take the life of the meanest subject in
her kingdom, except by her warrant. She ab-
ruptly broke into a great commendation of Arch-
ibald Douglas, the worthy kinsman of Morton,
and wished that she liad but two such coun-
sellors. Seeing that Davison took little notice
of that discourse, she rose up and walked a turn
or two in the chamber: then oue of the ladies en-
tertained her with some other discourse, and he
left her fur that time. He went down to Sir
Christopher Hatton, the vlce-cbamberlaln, ami
told that courtier what had passed, addiu^r, tluit
he feared it was the queen's intention to throw
this burdeu from herself if she could ; " remem-
bering him how things had passed in the case of
the Duke of Norfolk, the imputation of whose
death she laid heavily upon my Lord-treasurer
Burghley tor divers years together.' In the end,
Davison says he told Hatton plainly, that, not-
withstanding the directions she had given him
for sending down the warrant to the commis-
sioners (which haply she thought he would ad-
venture for her safety and service), he was ab-
solutely resolved not to meddle in it alone. Hat-
ton agreed to accompany him bstantly to tho
■ Li/r ^ Davidaoik.

»Google

176

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

[Civil a»d Miutart.

lord- treasurer. Burgtiley approved of Davison's
resolutior not to proceed singly, and agreed ba
submit the matter to the wholj of the privy
eounci). Id the meautiuie he desired tlmt the
warraikt might be put into hia haada, and Davi-
eoB, in the presence of Hatton, delivered it tii
Btirghley, who kept it till it was sent away to
FotheriDgaj. The next morning, the 3d of Feb-
ruary, Burghley nasembled thecouncil in hia
chamber, and they unanimonaly consented to have
the execution liastened, "knowing how much it
imported both to themaelvea and the whole realm,
and having ao clear a testimony of her majesty's
])leasure as her own warrant nnder her hand and
great seal of England." They also eitpreased their
UDwiUingness to trouble her majesty any further
on the subject; and then calling for Mr. Beale,
the clerk of the cnnncil, as the fitteat person, they
deliberat«ly gave him the death-wBiraut and let-
ters of inatruction to the commissioners.' Ou the
following morniug Daviaoo went to court, where
he found her majesty in conversation with Sir
Walter Raleigh. She presently called Dn^vison
to her, and,.as if she had understood nothing of
these proceedings (the meeting of her whole
uouncil, the writing of the letters, &c.), she aaid
to him smilingly, that " the overnight she had
dreamed a dream, that the Queen of Scots was
executed, and that she had been in her dream bo
angry against hira therefore, that she could have
done anything to him." At firat the secretary
treated thisasajest, for her majesty whs "bo plea-
sant and smiling.* But Duvison knew his mis-
tresa; a moment's reflection excited an uncomfort-
able doubt — and he asked whether, having pro-
ceeded so far, she liad not a reaulutt intention to
esecutethesentence. She answered yes,and swore
a great oath, but said that she thought it might
have been done in another way, and she asked
him whether he had not heard from Sii Amyas
Paulet. Hereupon Davison produced Paulefn
Hjiswer to the infamous epistle which he and
Walsiugham had written. It appeared that Pau-
let, though unfeeling, had a conscience. In great
grief and bitterness oi mind be deplored that he
should have lived to see thiu nnhappy day, in
which he was requii-ed, by direction from his
lu'ist gracious sovereign, to do an act which God
and the law forbade. His goods, his life were at
her majesty's disposal; he was ready to lose them
the next mon-ow if it should so please her, but
God forbid that he should make ao foul a ship-
wretk of his conscience, or leave so great a blot
to his (Hist^rity, as to ahed hloofi without law nnd

Kant, uid wUeh wu ilpiiid bf Biu|Ii1>t, tha Eul af Uerb;,
UmmUa. ChKl« Rawivd, Hnii»l™, Cobhim, Fnnrti KnoUjt,
IIitloB, Wildngluim, uid DaiiKo. Li wu laJd Uwt hia tonlttalji

li* pnaMiliuft hmlB to ta knjit n

warrant. Elizabeth then called Paulet, lately
her "dear and faithful Paulet," a "precise and
dainty fellow;" and waxing still more wrathful,
ahe accused him and others, who had taken the
oath of association, of perjury and breach of faith,
they having all promised and vowed great things
for her, and performing nothing. Shesaid.how-
ever, that there were some who would do the
thing for her sake, and she named one Wing-
field, who with some others would have done it.
Upon which Davison once more insisted on the
injustice and dishonour of secret assassination,
and upon the great danger which would have been
brought upon Paulet and Drury if they had con-
sented. On the 7th of February, at the very
moment when the walls of Fotheringay Castle
were echoing with the noise made by the work-
men in erecting Mary's scaffold, Elizabeth b^an
an earnest conversation with Davison, on the
danger in which she lived, telling him that it
was more than time that theaffMr was concludeil,
Hwearjng a great oath, and commanding him to
write a sharp letter to Sir Amyaa Paulet. The
secretary, being " somewhat jealous of her drift ""
cautiously replied, that he imagined such letter
was unnecessary. She then said that she thought,
indeed. Sir Aniyas would look for it; and tJien
oue of her ladies entering to inquire her majesty's
pleasure as to wliat should I>e had for diuner,ahe
suddenly broke off the conversation and ilis-
niissed Davison, who never saw her Face again.*

On this same day the arrival of the Earl of
Shrewsbury at Fotheringay Castle was announced
to Mary, who knew what it meant, as Shrews-
lury was earl-marshal. He was attended by
the Earls of Kent, Cumberland, aud Derby, by

Dr two miniaters of the gospel, and by Beale,
the clerk of the council. Mary rose from her
l>ed, dressed hei-aelf, sat down by a small table,
with her servants, male and female, arranged on
each side of her. Then the door was thrown
open and the earls entered, and Beale proceeded

L'ad the death-warrant. When Beale had
■lone reading, the quceti crossed hereelf, and with
great conijmsure told them, that she was ready
for dciith — that death was moat welcome to her,
though she had haiilly thought that, after keep*
iig her t^\'eiity years in a prison, her sister EHiza-
i)f-th would so dispose of her. She then laid her
liand on n book which was by her, aud solemnly
pi-otested that as for the death of the queen, their
sovereign, she had never imagined it, never sought
it, never consented to it. The Earl of Kent, who
■leema to have thought that the value of an oath
ilepeniled upon the book that was touched, rudely
exchUmeil, "Thatiaa Popish Bible, and there-
fore your oath is of uo value." " It is a Catholic

r llruTU NinlH. 1|A Iff miliam Dantem, ind tlu iin-

»Google

TaiLmieiit," nrpliwl ibe queen, "and therefore,
my Inril, au I helirve that to be the true version,
my oath is the luon- to be relied upon." The
Earl of Kent then iiuule a long discourse, advis-
ing her to by naide her siiperatitioua follies and
idle trumperies of Popery, to embrace the tnie
faith, aad to accept in her lant agonies the spiri-
tual services of the dean of Pe.terbomugh, a very
learned and devout divine, whom her majesty
had mercifnlly appointed to attend upon her.
Mary rejected the dean, and asked again for
her own chaplain. Here the Enrl of Kent told
her that her death would be
the life of Aii religion, as her
lite woald have been its death.
He retnseil her the attendance
of her chaplain and confessor
as being contrary to the law of
God and the law of the land,
and dangerous to themselves.
After some long and desultory
conversation, in which she put
the touching question, whether
it were possible that her only
son coiild have forgotten hi»
mother, she calmly turned to
the earl - marshal, and asked
when she was to Buffer. Grenl-
ly «g;itfl(ed, the Earl of Shrews- ci'mo™

bury replied, "To-morrow morn-
ing at eight." Tlie earls then rose to depart.
Before they went, she inquired whether her late
aeuretary Naue were dead or alive. Sir Drew
Dniry replied, that he was alive in prison. " I
proteHt before God," ahe exclaimed, putting her
hand again ou the Catholic Testament, "that
Naue hiin brought me to the scaSbld k> nave
his own life. But the truth will be known
hereafter." Then they all withdrew, leaving
the doomed queen alone with her attendants-
Presently she baile them dry their tears, and
f^ve ordei's that supper might be hasteneil,
"for that she had a deal of bnsinewi on her
hands." That night ahe supped very spariTigly,
as her manner was, and while she sat at table,
she asked one who waited upon her, whether the
force of tnith was not great, since, notwithstand-
ing the pretence of her conspiring agunst the
queen'a life, the Earl of Kent had just told her
that she must die for the security of (A«> reli-
gion.' When supper was over, having called her
servants before her to the table, she drank to

BETH ^ 177

them all, and they pledged lie r in return upon their
knees,mixingtears with their wine,aTid imploring
her pardon for any offences they might have com-
mitted against her. She forgave them, and aske<l
forgiveness of them, and then delivered some
Christian advice as to their future conduct in life.
She then distributed among them the few thinga
she had, and retire<l to her chamber, where she
wrote with her own hand two sheets of paper as
her last will, and three letters, one to her confes-
sor, one to the King of France, and the other to
her consin the Duke of Guise. This done, sho

prayed and read alternately till four o'clock in
the morning, when she threw herself upon her
1>ed and slept.

At break of day she roue, assembled her little
househcld, read lo them her will, distributed all
her clothes, except those which ahe had put on,
ba<le them farewell, and retiring to her oratory
threw herself upon her knees before au altar.
About eight o'clock the sheriff of the county en-
tered the oratoiy and told her that the hour was
come. She roee, took down the crucifii, ami
turned to take the lost few steps which were be-
tween her and the grave. She came forth with
an air of pleasantness and majesty, dressed in a
gown of block satin, with a veil of lawn fostened
to her cani and descending to the ground. Her
chaplet was fixed to her girdle, and she kept
in her right hand the ivory crucifix which ahe
had taken from the altar. In an ante-chamber
she was joined by the noble Ionia and the two
knightswho had been her hard keepers, and pre-
sently she found standing in her path her house-

I Thi. Ml,

a MbH ntcb, aid to h*i* bttn pmtDUd hf npnHnt<ngtta«giinleDofEdsn. UHiKhitthscnieifiiiini. Titan
d of bobOQT, MuT Bvton. nudb liitD Lh« pot- ^ krs nmundad Hj a|>pro|ffiKt« Lktiq mattoo*. The watch ifi
Mmuu Dick Lmidsr. who Inhsrttad II Ibnxigh opsned Yj nreniDg the >kuU,iDd piidoti tbs upper |nr1 xT >(
I7. tram ohom h< lo rtanandad. Ths luinna 1 In thspalm of the hud. uid thai lifting Ihenppeijiv, which
re engnTed with Ibn foUoirliic uhJeoU: — On rite* ana hln£«. 1iieM*,an thepUtonr lii). ik a repnevntation
Uxtmheiid of thenknll li the H(on of Death, heahnf ■ •ojtbe ' of U>e naliTttjr. The whole i> of rich dmlgn anil bsautifol *nrli
ind lioar-glM>~al (he hack. Time deroning all thlngi The ' mamhtp. Thomlinodal*, but themaker'. name, with Ihiplice
aij^npanof thoknll ii diThlat Into two aHnpartmenu. one ' of o^analtaidm— "MoraK. Buiis ~— «rr (D^nKsd un thr w«k).

Vol. tl. 1S9 .

,v Google

178

HISTOEY OP ENGLAND.

tC.v„

D MlUTART.

steward, Sir Robert Melville, who had been de-
nied access to her for the last three weeks. Thw
old and faithful creature feU upoa hia knees be-
fore her, and with a paaaioii of teaiB lamented
his hard fate which would make him the bearer
of such sorrowful news iuto Scotland. And when
he could proceed no further, by reason of his sobs,
the queen said to him, "Good Melville, cease to
laraeut, but rather rejoice, for thou sbalt now
see a fiuaJ period to Mary Stuart's troubles. The
world, my servaut, is all but vanity, and subject
to more sorrow than an ocean of tears can wash
away. But, I pray thee, take this message when
thou goeut, that I die true to my religion, to Scot-
land, and to France. God forgive them that have
thirsted for my blood as the hart longeth for the
water brooks ! Commend me to my son, and tell
him I have done nothing to prejudice the king-
dom of Scotland." Old Melville still wept ; the
queen wept also, and kissing him said, "Once
mora farewell, good Melville; pray for thy mis-
tress and queen." She then addressed herself to
the lords, requesting them to treat her servants
with kindness, and permit them to stand by her
at her death. To the last request the £^1 of
Kent objected as inconvenient, saying that it was
to be feared that they would be troublesome to
her majesty and unpleasing to the company —
tliat if they were present at the execution they
would not fail, aa Papists all, to put some su-
perstitious trumpery in practice; and perhaps
then! would be a dipping of handkerchiefs in her
grace's blood, which it was not decent in them,
the Proteataut loi'ds, to admit of, "My lords,"
said Mary, "I will give you my word they shall
deserve no blame, nor do such things as you
mention; but, poor souls, it would do them good
to see the last of their mistress; and I hope your
mistress, as a maiden queen, would not deny me
in regard of womanhood, to have some of my
women about me at my death. Surely you
might grant a greater favour than this, though I
were a woman of leas rank than the Queen of
Scots." Kent was silent; and the other lords did
not choose to take the responsibility of granting
what was asked. Mary then said, with some
vehemence, "Am I not cousin to yoiir queen,
descended from the royal blood of HenryVIL.B
raamed Queen of France, and anointed Queen o<
Scotland?" At length, after much consultation,
the lordedetermined tocomplyinpart; and Mel-
ville her steward, her apothecary and surgeon,
and two of her maids, named Kennedy and Curie,
were allowed to attend her to the scaffold. The
procenion now moved forward to the great hall
of the castle, headed by the sheriff and his offi.
cent. In the hall stood the scaffold, which wai
raised about three feet from the ground, and cov
ered all over with black cloth, with rails around

Upon the scaffold there was a low stool, a,
cushion, and a block, all covered with block. The
queen mounted the scaffold without any change
of countenance or any faltering, and took her
place upon the stool. On her right hand stood
the Eiu-1 of Kent, on her left the Earl of Shr«ws-
bury; tbe rest of the company, which, by Eliza-
beth's ordara, consisted of vety few persons,
stood in the hall, without the rails. Immediate-
ly in front of her was the headsman from the
Tower, in a suit of block velvet, with hia assist-
ant, also in black. The warrsnt was mad by Mr.
Beale ; when it was ended the company crieit
B loud voice, "God save Queen Elizabeth!"
All the time Beale was reading the warrant .the
Queen of Scots looked cheerful and easy. At
the end of it, she bade them recollect she was a
sovereign princess, not subject to the laws and
parliament of England, but brought to suffer by
injustice and violence: she declared again that
she hod not sought Elizabeth's death, and said
that she pardoned from her heart all her enemies.
Here the dean of Peterborough stood up, and,
iterrupting her, began a long disoourse upon
her life, past, present, and to come. The queen
itayed him once or twice, saying, "Mr. Dean,
trouble not yourself, I am fixed in the ancient re-
ligion, and, by God's grace, I will shed my blood
for it." The dean would not be silenced: he still
pressed her to cliange herfaitli; he told her that
his gracious mistress was very cai-eful of the wel-
fare of her immortal soid,and had commistione<l
him to bring her to the ouly right path. If a)ie
would recant even now, there might be hopes of
mercy ; if she refused she must inevitably h«r
danine<l to all eternity. "Good Mr. Dean," ou-
Hwered Mary, with more earnestness than before,
" trouble not yourself about this matter: I was
bom in this religion, I liave lived in this reli-
gion, and I will die in this religion." So saying
she turned aside from him; but the dean again
faced her, and again thundered ont his aermon.
At last the Earl of Shrewsbury ordered him
to cease preaching and proceed to pray: and
whilst the dean prayed in English, Mary prayed
alone in Idtin, repeating the ]ienitential paalnw
with great warmth of devotion. When the dean
had done she pmyed in English for the church,
her son, and Queen Elizabeth. She then kissed
her crucifix, saying, "As thy arms, O Jeau, were
stretched upon the cross, so receive me, U God,
into the arms of mercy." "Madam," said the
Earl of Kent (a fit patron and comjianiou to such
a dean), who was horrified at her kissing the cru-
cifix, "you had better put such Popish trumpery
out of your hand, and carry Clirist in your
heart." Mary replied, " I can hardly bear this
emblem in my hand without, at the same time,
bearing him iu my heart." The two eieciitinnnK

»Google

A'v 1572—1587]

tben came forward, aud, kneeliug before ber,
aaked forgiveness. Her women began to pei^
form their last office, disrobiDg their mistresB;
bnt the hendameD were in a hgny and inter-
fared, pulling off with their own rude bands a
part of her attire; upon which ahe observed to
the earla that ahe waa not used to be undressed
by such attendants, or to put off her clothes be-
f<we so much company. Here her servauta could
no longer cout^u their feellDgs, but she put her
finger to her lips, kissed them again, and bade
them pray for her. Then the maid, Kennedy,
took a handkerchief, edged with gold, in which
the euchariat had formerly been inclosed, and
fastened it over her eyes. The executioner led
her to the block, and the queen, kneeling on th(
rushiob before it, said, with a clear and unquail-
ing voice, " Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend
my spirit!" But the headsman's nerves were
not in such good order; lie probably entertained
the notions of the times about the sacredneM of
royal blood, and he was disturbed by the groans
nnd lamentations of Mary's servants ; peihaps
of all present, except Kent and the dean. He
trembled, and struck so badly that it cost him
three strokes to cat the neck asunder. At last,
when the head had fallen on the scaffold, he took
it np, and holding it at arm's length, exclaimed
officially, "God save Queen Elizabeth!" The
dean of Peterborough added, "Thus perish all
her enemies!" The Earl of Kent, ajiproaching
the headless body, cried in a louder voice, "So
perish all the enemies of the queen and gospel!"
Everybody else was silent; not a voice said Amen
to the dean and the earL The queen's little lap-
dog was observed to have crept under her clothes.

BETH. 171)

and would not be removed tiU force was used,
and afterwards it would not leave the body, but
went aud lay down between the head and shoul-
ders.'

On the oioming after the execution a despatch
arrived at court fnim the Earl of Shrewsbury.
The despatch was carried by Mr. Ifenry Talbot,
Shrewsbury's son; and Burghley, to whom it
was delivered, immediately sent for Djivison, and
after consulting Ilattou aud some other privy
counsellors, he agreml not to acquaint the queen
suddenly with the execution. But by the hour
of noon the report was spread in the city, where
the ProtestsjitB testified their joy by ringing all
the church bells and lighting bonfires. It was
impossible that Elizabeth could remain ignorant
of these things; she learned all the particulars
in the evening, but did not then take the least
notice of the event, "nor show any alteration
at all." On the next morning, when she was
officially informed of the execution, she sent for
Sir Christopher Hattou, and with an appearance
of wonderful grief, declared that she had never
commanded or intended lAai thing, and Ifud the
whole blame on the privy council, but chiefly on
Davison, who had abused the trust she had re-
posed in him by allowing the warrant to go out
of his hunda Davison hurried to court fearing
evil, as the whole of the privy council had
acted with him in the matter; but the counsel-
lors, who knew that there must be a victim,
itrougly advised him to absent himself from court
for a few days. Poor Davison took tlieir advice,
the I4th of February he was shut up in
the Tower. At the same time the queen turned
the engines of her pretended wrath against Burgh-

' JAb; Oa'^m; Onu .■ Jlo6(rt«n.- CHalwfTi . IF/Ulir Snll.

•In onW to ml. s. 11 qugm onr her powerfnl nobUfy,

Hbt iiHldm hncj for Umiley— th« tia^tii hmilinritin (h<

iTm at wonhlp. wilhmt «dtiii| l)u< Mfgnm^n dlitnut of Uia

bUI to hn. Br tlentlnf tn tho ntik of Ilr hniband ud king

wm tb> quUflattou th.t Hu7 Htoirt bmnglit «itb l.tr luto

tioH-hj hfr •liddnn ■Tdnlon and dlwwl f'-r him-hr muklnc

ntn* md diignrt lh»t ibK lift ■ hrilUut ud nflmd conrt, lo

domlnlDniofhoTanamr before ihewHUalL aanltwonJd b*

uil DM at ill cinmnupKl—du n->nwn>l tbm wllh u de-

gtuilvl In hH ; Uld ■»« cutlni hnlMlf on tht min^ of Ellia-

Ku« odt of pUa. ■ Ferlloo. haatj, . qukk hit r<«l_ ii.-

(nabiDed vJtb tba ulnnna ftodom of n •cldow AltbD,«fa

b» dknni tal on th« ConllnenI, to »>alt or Intsrhn iiMttaUj on

■MiDC Willi ■ bMkr Kn» tbD- fcult. 10 wUcfa ri. .»

herbshjLir. ThoiniamElloniwhlchilwattnniitisillnEnglilid.

ImpWlal bybv portliun and hnctimctai. gbahndthslm-

VnilMin, to nprant bsnalf u tha Iggitinut* bdr lo Ux cniro

rtdn, bf sming IJhi diotli or «lleof h« mart anUrpHung

of Enclud. nnd thiB miula hHMir EJIiibMh. ri»l ; ilM KT«d

puliuu. Thsmnhllme cnuulsdlKinHdu Ruiii«,HiHlnd,

ponuM of d«p«lng Ellnbath nnd ntdring MurHtnut, be

(h«]tafon»d.«lii><r«»ol.<>l to>D«iDtai»ui]I ctebtbe

tn,m pl>c<iv th* CUwUcqiHOD on tba tbnmaof ar«t BrilalB.

nHfioo. w,«ntk» U>.,l»d .«Hl*L

odU oondHtad h« to th. «lliild ."--Klrirt. Hirto7, ^f Mar^

q.t«ttfSat,,a.to».

»Google

180

HISTOEY OF ENULAND.

Icy, who was Htruck with alarm, ftuil withdraw
Ui his own liouBe fur mmiy daye, wheiice he wrote
the most, humiliating letters to his niistreas. The
day aflvr the arrest of DavisoD, Walsiiighain,
who had recovered from hia illueas at the very
uick of time, retumed to court, where for some
weeks he had the principal mauagemeut of affairs
in his own haada. Oue of hia firat duties appears
to have been to devise a message to tiie Freuoh
king, aHSuriiig him of her majesty's iguorauce of
the sending of the warrant, her soi-row at the
execution, and her deteruii'jatieu to puuish her

[CiVIt AKI> MjLITABT.

But Boun Uurghley tuid the rest
emerged frum this artiticiiil mist, and only Wil-
liam Davisuij was made a seap^oat or samfice,
being condemned to pay a fine of £10,000, and
be imprisoned during the queen's pleaanre. Tlie
)>oor seci'etary BiilTei'ed miserahly from imprison-
ment, palay, and utter poverty, tor the treasury
seized all his property to pay the fine; and thus
he lived through the seventeen long years ti3
which the remainder of Elizabeth's reign was
drawn out, with full opportunity to meditate upon
the consequence of putting his tnist in princes.

CHAPTER XIX.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1387-1603.

Hpl«ueJ by ■ ponaiou

Junes advertised of thi eiecutioD of bis luotLer— He

troublas — Huitility of Spain OQ sccoiint of Mary's executiuu— Navnl eiploiu of Sir Flsucii Drake m,
tbfl Span iirdi— Til e Spwiiali Annnda— Frepantioua in BngUnd tn reiiat the luruioD — Hilitar; niiutar at
Tilbur; Fort— Tbe ArauiilH leta sail— Succwsful n^istance of thr Baglttb— liiffannt encountgn with the
Annada— Its Baal diiperajoQ— Death of tlie Earl uf Lei cuter- -Elizabeth lelaota the Karl of ^Bei aa ber new
faroarit*— Spain invaded otider tlie conduct of Eh»(— Quarrels between Ebhi and Lord Burghlej—EeMX
employed in ths wan againit Franco aod Sjiain— He quarrela with the qoeen— Alleged conspiraciea of the
Papist! to asiaaaiij ate Eliiabetb-Iriab iiisuirectiou— Emiei sent to noppro* it— He huiriei back to London
uncalled— PDuiihment for bis diullowed arrival— He attempts to raise rebellion— Its epeedy bUppresaioD —
Trial of Euai- His conduct in prison-Hit execution— Character of the Earl of Eteet— BeMUtuieDt of Uie
people on acoonnt of his ejieoulion— The Gowrio oonspiraoy iu Scotland— Eliiabetli'e last meeling with her
parliament— (.'oiiiplainta gainst nionopolieii brooght before it— The Spaniards audit the Iritli ininrreotiou —
It is defeated— Eiiiabetli's last Ulaen-Sije nouiinstas Kins Jauia of Scotland as her niocessor—Her death.

weeks after tli

f. Sir Robert Curew, son of her

ive, Lonl Hunsdon, was de-

:hed by Elizabeth to make her

ses to King James for the

ler of his mother. On first

learning the news, it is said that the royal dastard

and pedant buret into tears, and threatened to

move heaven and earth for vengeance. In the

letter presented by Sir Robert Carew, Elizttbeth

told James of the nnutterable grief which she

felt on account of that " unhappy accident" which,

mlAovl Afr tuowtedgejhBd happened in England.

She appealed to tlie supreme Judge of heaven

and earth for her iauoceuce; said she abhorred

di4timTiialion-~t\iB,t she hod never intended to

carry the sentence into execution— that she waa
punishing those who had frustrated ber merciful
iiiteutiotiB; and she added that, as no one loved
him mui-e dearly than herself, or boi-e a more
anxious concern for his welfare, slie trusted that
he would consider every oue as his own enemy
who endeavoured, on account of the present aeri-
dent, to excit« any animosity between them. All
Jxmes'B mighty wrath soon evaporated, and he
sat down quiet and contented, with au increase
of the gieusion which Elizabeth had long been
paying him. Mid with n hope that his dutiful
conduct would clear all obstrnctiona to hia auc-
c«Baion to the English throne on the death of its
present occupant.'
Circumstances and her own happy arts went

I Thg fOUowini

Uloart, oD luaniing I

itooUuul, bad •«&«1 dnimii lo braik i
Kugland. Tbat it tcu bu duty to do both as a ton and a kin;
.\sa pubLio flvldance of thitmptoie, Jamoi b11dii«1 tta Jaiui
free admission into his territoricfl ; he even invited them thithtu
. Kalbec Cxichlon ntumed In Edinburgh, and with him Patboi
GeorgB Duii0, Rubert AbanTomby. and WJIliam Ogilvy. Uude

InCrl^use of El

her aMjandBucy over (he tlmjd mind ot Jan»s. who^ in that
of tampettA, took fright at the iibBll«l cJond. The can-
icy WH pinved-Blkibxh railed up the Jeniit* wilb il;

I eipellsl all Che &then; whtli snivtly 1
I OgllTy, and Ahercromby, to ngard hfi law i
no «irect He did more : Abercromby wai s

»Google

AD 1587-1603.] ELIZA

ei|ually iu EliznbetL'H favour iu disarming the
reacDtmentof Fmace. Slie madeapublioapology
to the ambassador L'Aiibeapine for the harali
treatment he had received, took him by the hand
to a corner of the room, told hLm tliat the greatest
of caliuuitiea hfid befallen her, and swore
Hundry great oatha tliat she was iunocent of
Miu-y'a death. Foar of her council, ahe said,
had pluyed her a trkk: they were old and
faitliful servants, or by God she would have
all their heads oiT: She said that what
troubled her moat of all was the dJHpleasure
ot the king his master, whom she honourod
above all men. L'Aubespiue remarked
that she hid all aloug given assiatauce to
the enemies and revolted Bubjectsof FraJice.
Here she drew a nice distinction, saying
that she liad doue nothing agaiust U^ury,
but Ikad only a&iisted the King of Navarre
againat the Duke of Guise. But the civil
war continued to rage in France, and Henry
III. was soon glad to have her couutenance
tu the murder of the Guises. If that
uiihappy family were bigoU and persecutors and
chief directors of tlie massacre of St. Bartholo-
mew, they certainly found no faith or mercy
themselvea. In December, 1588, Henry III.
Becretly disti-ibuted forty-five daggers to as many
oaaasaina in the castle of Blois: the Duke of
(itiise. Queen Mary's cousin, who had been in-
vit«d as a guest, was set u[>oii and murdered at

BETH. 181

the door of the king's chamber. On the morrow
his brother, the cardinal, was aseaasinated in a
like barbarous manner; aud the Proteetanta
were only prevented from making public rejoic-
ings at tiieir fall by the better eeuse and feeling

of nuking hinufllf jDutflr morv auni J Df Eng^uid ilid Sootllud.
tfafi luviDclblfl Armada hod bssn diipsnod by bLomu ; It ia uc
^un^er on a fl«t thfct ths gloomy eArt/naij of PromtAjitEani

10 diioonU were d*Ujr tjoglnoing to be feJt

Enjluid and in SoDtliDd. Tbo quaan hul baan ri|lit Iu l>ar
cilnilitioiit; Fithai Gordon trm baiiiihst flom tha ktngdom.

naw pnteit tar hunaaing tha Cattanllc*. ElUibotb iinUad
h«irot it, both for har k<ugilom ud for Inlainl.''— /fi'ifai.*

From Fmica MonunwuUile e( Pillomqua.

of their great leader, Du Pleesis Mornay. The
Uatholica became more fifcroe and formidable than
ever, the pope launched the aentonce of excom-
munication, the doctors of the Sorbonne released
the Hubjecta from their oath of allegiance, and a
few months after, as Henry was laying aiege to
his own capital, he was assassinated by n fanatic
monk named Jiu.'i{iieH Clement.'

of Eliubatli iiHl bar cvunaallon in Eniluid, Mid of M>
bia nmc— on Lii SootUsd: HHlng that It dalJbantislT u^sa
tlutlawn tbe horron of tbo Leagna wan praAmbla to tha toLar^
tJonoftbaChrlitlaDitrortbBRarornun.— SaatfiAnnAdiiiMMC,
Potdiqut rt LilUrairt dt la Compagtiit de /tnM — compM^ nr Iu
. Tbliworklain

Lb portnuta nod fkcaii

»Google

182

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

} MlLIT^iBT.

Kiog Philip of Spain, wlio was exasperated to
the extreme by the bold and briUiaut expeditions
of Drake and othere to the Weat lodiea, was in
a different position from that of the French aod
Scottish kings ; and making the moat of the re-
cent tragedy at Fotheringay Castle, he branded
Elizabeth as a murdereaa, and animated hie people
with a desii-e of vengeance. She on her aide
made some politic efforta to disarm his resent-
ment. Leicester, who had returned to Holland,
soon became an object of contempt. She re-
called him, allowed the Hollanders to put Prince
Maurice of Orange in hia stead, and then geemcd ,
very well disposed to give up the Ppoleatant
cauBe in the Netherlanda. She kept the precau-
tionary towna, as they were called, and greatly
did the Netherlander* fear that she would sell
these keys of their dominions to the Spanish
king. Burghley opened negotiations with Spun,
and two foreign merchants, an Italian and a

Fleming, were introated with a secret mission to
the Duke of Parma, who still maintained himself
in the Netherlands. Bnt Elizabeth and her
ministers soon saw that no sacrificea they could
make would disarm the animosity of the Span-
iards, and every wind brought them newa of im-
mense naval and military preparations in Spain
and Portugal.' While the queen continued to
negotiate. Sir Francis Drake was despatched with
a fleet of thirty sail, and ordered to rieatroy all
the Spanish ships he could find in their own
harbours. Never was a commiaaion more ably
or more boldly executed. On the 19th of April
(1567) he dashed into Cadiz Roads, and burned,
sunk, or took thirty ships. He then turned hack
along the coast, and between Cadiz Bay and Cape
St. Vincent, he sunk, took, or burned lOOveeaels,
beudee knocking down four caatles on the coast.
From Cape St. Vincent he sailed to the Tagns,
where be challenged the Marquis de Santa Craz,

and took, almost under the shadow of his flag,
the Si. Philip, a ship of the largest size. These
operations materally tended to delay the sailing
of the Spanish Armada for more than a year, and
allowed Elizabeth time to prepare for her defence.
But Philip, whose power on the whole had in-
creased rather than diminished siuce the first
commencement of his enmity with Elizabeth —
for if he had lost Holland, he had annexed Por-
tugal to hia dominions — was not to be put from
hia purpose of invading England. He obtained
from the pope aupplies of money and a renewal
of the bull of excommunication against Elizabeth.
He levied troops in all directions, he hired ahtpa
from the republic of Genoa and Venice, he took
up all the proper vessels possessed by his subjects

Bin HjUiTin PnansHiiL— Ftddi the"HaTix)loglL~

of Naples and Sicily, he pressed the construction
of othere in Spain, in Portugal, and in that part
of Flanders which still belonged to him, where
shoals of flit-bottomed boats were prepared for
the transport of the Duke of Parma and 30,000
men. Although it was resolved to encounter the
invaders by aea, instead of waiting for their land-
ing, yet, through parsimony, the whole royal navy
of England did not, at this moment, exceed thirty-
six sail; but merchant ships were fitted out by the
nobles and people at their own expense,and armed
for war, and Drake, Hawkins, Frobisher, names
scarcely eclipsed by all the heroes who have suc-
ceeded them — men who had lived their lives on
the ocean, and girdled the globe in their daring

"tSoogk

A-D. 1587—1603.]

ELIZABETH.

183

eipeditioDB— the beat aeamen of the age, were ap-
pointed to the commaDd uuder the high admiial.
Lord Howard of Etfingham. The entire number
of ahipa collected oa this critical occasion was
191 ; the number of sekmen waa 17,400, the total
smouiit of tonnage being 31,935.' The I>ut«li
were applied to for their assistance, " and," wya
Stow, " the^ came roundly ia with threescore
aail, brsve ships of war, fierce, and full of spleen."
The fleet was distributed at various points, for it
could not be Icnown where the enemy would at-
tempt their laiidiug. The lord- admiral, who
guarded the western coast, divided his force into
three Bquadroua. Drake was detaclied towards
Ushant to keep a look-out; Hawkins cruised be-
tween the Land's End and Scilty Islands ; Lord
Henry Seymour cruiaed along the coaat of Flau-
ders, blocking up the Spanish ports there ; and
other captains constantly scoured the Channel,

Ab it 'was given out that the Spaniards intended
to stul up the river and strike their first blow at
London, both sides of the
Thames were fortified, under
the direction of Federico
Gi&mbelli, an Italian deserter
from the Spanish service.
Oravesend was strongly for-
tified, and a vsst number of
barges were collected there,
for the double purpose of
serving as u bridge for the
paeaage of horee and foot be-
tween Rent and Essex, and
for blocking up the river to
the invaders. At Tilbury
Fort, directly opposite to
Gravesend, a great camp was
formed. Nor was there leaa
stir and activity inland.
There was not a comer of
England which did not ring Ti

with preparation, and mus-
ter its armed force. The matitiuie counties,
from Cornwall to Kent, and from Kent to I^n-
Golnahire, were furnished with soldiers, both of
themselves and with the auiiliar; militia of the
neighbouring ahires, so that, upon any spot where
a landing might be effected, within the space of
forty-eight hours an army of 20,000 men could
be assembled. The Catholics vied with the Pro-
testants in activity, in zeal, in patriotism ; and
as their gentlemen of rank were generally ex-
cluded from command by the jealousies of the
Protestants, although the lord -admiral himself.

Lord Howard of Effingham, was a Catholic, they
served in the ranks like common soldiers, or they
embarked in the ships to do the work of common
sailors. When the lord-lieutenants of the dif-
ferent count iea returned their numberx, it was
found that there were under arms 130,000 men,
exclusive of the levies furnished by the city of
London. The force assembled at Tilbury Fort
consisted of 22,000 foot and 2000 horse, and be-
tween them and Loudon were 26,000 men levied
for the protection of her majesty's person, com-
manded by her kinsman Lord Hunsdon, and
10,000 Londoners. A confident hope was enter-
tained that the fleet would be able to prevent
any disembarkation, but it was provided, in case
of a landing, that the country should be laid
waste, and the invaders harassed by incessant
attacks. The queen never shone to more advan-
tage than at this warlike crisis, and though she
kept her peraon between the capital and the near
camp at Tilbury Fort, the fame of her brave de-

■hiH ihliB of ti'S •nivinDr u> tm miinp*. urn iMigm^
Saglilh tblin : tmt than win IbitT-llTe ihlia TiDCins In
to 1000 lou ; uid Uionf h the RwgMA fl«t ootQoinber
tiDudA, itiantinbHUMgnwul^UunoDS-lwlfuf U»>

portment and her encouraging words were spread
everywhere. She reviewed the Londoners, whose
enthusiasm was boumllesa; and when the arrival
of the Armada was daily expected, she reviewed
the army at Tilbury Fort, riding a war-horse,
wearing armour on her back, and carrying a mar-
shal's truncheon in her hand. The Earls of Essex
and Leicester held her bridle-rein, while she de-
hvered a stirring speech to the men. "My loving
people," said the qjieen, " we have been persuaded
by some that are careful of our safety to take heed
I how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes,
for fear of treachery; but I assure you I do not
desire to live to distmst my faithful and loving
people. Let tyrants fear ! 1 have always so be-
haved myself, that, under God, I have placed
my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loynl

,v Google

18-t

HI3T0RY OF RSGLANT).

[Cmi. AHD MlLITAr.T

liuarte aud good-will of my aubjecte; anil, there-
fore, I am come ttmongat you at this time, not as
for my recreation and sport, but being rmolveil
in tlie midst and heat of the battle to live or die
nninnsst you all— to lay down for my Ond, for
my kiiii^dom, and tor my peojile, my honour.and
my bi.Hid, even in the dnat. I know that ( have
but the body of a weak and feeble woman; but
r hav-e the heart of a kin([, and of a King of Eng-
land too, and think foul scorn that Parma or
8pain, or any prince of Europe, bIiouU darw to
invade the borders of ray realms!" Everything
in this camp speech waa exciting and appropriate
except a laudation bestowed on the general; for
her lieuleDnnt was none other than that carpet-
kuigbt and moat inethcieiit commander, the Elarl
of Leicester.

It had been arranged by the Spanish court
that the Armada shoidd leave Lisbon in the he-'
ginning of May, but the Marquis de Santa Onizi
waa then sinking under the fever of which he,
died; and, by a singular fatality, the Duke of
Paliano, the vice-admiral, and an excellent oflicer,
fell flick and died nearly at tlie name time. Philip
found a difRcnlty in ivplaciiig thew two com-
mandern. Afteraomedelay heguve the anpreme
command to the Duke of Med inn-Sid on ia, witu,
iiiflteail of being the beat sailor in S^iaiu, was no
Bailor at all, and wholly ignoiunt of mai'itime
affairs. Martinez de RecaUlo, who was appointed
vice-a<(iuirat, waa, however, n aenman of goo<l
experience. At last, the In\-imcibi,e AtmADA.aa
the Spaniards called it in their piide, aet sail from
tlie Tagua on the S!)th of May. It consisted at
tbia time of about IHO veEtseln of all hIzch; 46 of
these were galleons and Inr^r ships; in were
pink-bnilt s)d)«; 13 werefrigsteit. They mounted
altogether 24.31 guosofdiRerent calibres, Inad-
ditiou to the mariners, they carried ue.vly 80,000
land troo|)s, among whom were 200(1 volunteers
of the noblest families in Spain. But this mighty
fleet, when steering towards Corunna, where it was
to take on board more troops and stores, was
overtaken olF Fiuisterre by a great tempest, and
disperaed. Four large shi[is foundered at sea;
the rest reached Coruuna and other ports on that
coast, but considerahly damaged by the storm.
This occasioned a fresh delay, which, however,
might have proved fatal rather than favourable
if £lizal>etha advice had been Eollownl by her
brave commanders. A report reached London
that the enemies' ships had suffered so much that
they could not possibly proceed on their eipe^li-
tion this year; and as the coxt of the English fleet
was great (thongh the government only bore a
port of it), the queen, from motives of economy,
made Secretary Walsingham write to the admiral
tn tell hiin to lay up four of his largest ships, and

discharge their .crewa But Lonl Howard of
Effingham nobly replied to this letter, that, rather
than dismantle any of his ships, he would take
.upon him to disobey his mistress, and keep them
afloat at bis own charge. The admiral now called
a council of war, wherein it was determined to
sail for the Spanish coast, ti> complete the de-
struction of the Armada, if no enabled, or to
ascertain, at all events, its real condition. A
brisk north wind soon carrieil him to Corunua,
whither he chased before him fourteen Spanish
ships whii-h were at sea. Having ascertained
the truth, he became anxious to return, lert u
part of their fleet might make the coast of Eng-
land in his absence. Favonrol by a change of
wind, he soon reached his station at Plymouth,
where he allowed iiis men a little relaxation ou
shore. On the IDth of July, one Fleming, a Scot-
ti:'h pirate or privateer, sailed into Plymouth,
with intelligence that he had seen the Spanish
\\fft aK the Uzard. At thi' moment most of
the captains and officers were on shore playing
at bowls on the Hoe. There was au instant bus-
tle, and a calling for the shipe' boats, but Drake
insisted that the match sboiikl be played out,
as there was plenty of time both to win the
game aud beat the Spanianln. Unfortunately
the wind was blowing hard in their teetli, hut
they contrived to warp ont their ships. On Ihe
following day, being Saturday, the £(>th of Jidy.
tliey got a full sight of the Armaiia Htanding
luajestically on — the vessels being ilrawu np in
the form of a crescent, which, from horn Ui honi,
measured some seven miles. Their great height
:ui<l bulk, though imposing to the nnskilleil, gave
confi<lence to the English aeamen, who reckoned
it once upon having the advantage in tackin;;
^Liii] manipuvring their lighter craft. At first it
was exjiected that the SpanianlM might attempt
a landing at Plymouth, but the Duke of Medina
ntlbered to the plan which had been prescrilml
to him, and which was to nteer quite through
the Channel till he should rt«rh the coast of
Flanders, where he was to raise the blockade of
the harbonrs of Nieuport and Dunkirk, main-
tAJned by the English and Dutch, make a junc-
tion with the Duke of Parma, and bring that
prince's forces with him to England. Lord
Howard let him pass, and then followeil in his
reBr,avoiding comingto close qunrteni, and watch-
ing with a vigilant eye for any lucky accident
that might arise from ctosh winds or irregular
sailing. And soon a part of the Spanish fleet
was left consideralily astern by the main division,
where the Dnke of Medina kept up a press of
sail, as if he bad no other object in view than ■•>
get through the Channel as fast as possilite. Ite
made sif^als to the slower sliipa to keep u)i,
which they could not, and he still kept every

»Google

lliU3.]

ELIZABETH.

18.7

•ail beut. The Ditdaiii, a piunace, commotided
liy Jauas Bradbury, now commenced an attBL-k by
poariDg a broadside ioto oue of the Inggards.
Lord Howard, in hiaowaahip, tlie Art Royal, en-
gaged a great Spamah galleon, aod Drake, in the
ftevenffe, Mawkina, in the Victori/, and Frobiaher,
in the Triumph, ranging up gallmitly, bi-ought
into action all the galleons which had fallea astern.
The rear-admiral Recaldo was with this diviaioo,
and fought it bravely; but Ilia lumbering ships
Uy tike logs on the water in corapariBon with the
lighter vesaels of England, which were manage-
able aud in hand like well-trained steeds. Before
any asBiatance could come from the van, one of
the great Spaniarda was completely crippled, and
another — a treasure-ship, with S5,00() ducala
nixtard — ^was taken by Drake, who distributed

the money amongst the sailors. The Duke of
Medina hove-to, till the slower ships came up,
and then all of them, under press of sail, stood
farther up the Channel. This first bnish gave
great spirit to the English, and there were iu it
several encouraging circumstancea. It was iieen,
for example, that the tail Spanish ships could
not bring their ordnance to bear, firing, for the
greater [lart, over the English without touching
them; and that the surer fire of the latter told
with terrific effect on those huge ships crammed
with men, soldiera, and sailora. Howard re-
turned towards Plymouth, where he was to be
joined by forty sail. In the course of the night
one of the greatest of the Spanish ships was
burned, purposely, it is said, by a Flemish gunner
on board. It waa a dark night with a b^vy sea,

Tut 3»HiuI Asaui:!.— From tbaTapanrriuthaB

and Borne of the Spaniards ran foul of each other,
to their great mischief.

Oa the 23d, Howard, who waa reinforced, and
who had received into his division Sir Walter
Raleigh, came up with the whole Armada off
Portland, when a battle began, which lasted
nearly the whole of that day. The English fought
loose and at large, avoiding a close combat or
boarding. They kept separate, but always in
motion, tacking and playing about the enemy,
pouring in their fire aud then sheering out of
range, returning before the Spaniards had time
to reload, giving them another broadside, anil
then sheering ofT as before. According to Sir
Walter Kaleigh, Sir Henry Wotton compared it
tit to a morrice-dance upon the waters! But
ouee or twice the dying away of the wind ren-
dered these maoteuvres impracticable. A divi-
jion of five merchantmen, led by the gallant Fro-
biaher in bis great ahip the Triumph, was cutoff
from the rest, and brought to close action for two
while houra. Hut, at the same time, oue uf the
Vol. 11.

English squadrons cut off a division of the Arma-
da, and crippled every ship in it. Then Howard,
from the .iJritAo^, signalized, and this victorious

squadron, by means of sweepers and tow-boats,
was brought into position to the rescue of Fro-
biaher. These victorious ships reserved their fire
till they were close alongside the Spaniards, The
darkness of night interrupted the battle : in the
course of the day the English had taken a large
Venetian argosy aud several transports. Neit
day the Spaniards showed small inclination to
i-enew the fight; and it was apparent tliat they
wished to hold on to the place appointed for their
junction with the Duke of Faimu. The Eugliah,
on their side, were not in fighting condition, for,
by a shameful parsimony, they had been poorly
supplied with gunpowder, and by this time they
had burned all they had on Ixiard. Howard, how-
over, detached some barques and pinnaces, which
returned with a supply towards night; but a day
had been lost. On the morning of the !Sth, he
came up with part of the Armada, off the Isle of

»Google

ISG

IKSTOBY OF ENGLAND,

[Civil a

D M ILITAR)'.

Wight, where Cnptwn H&wkiiu took & Urge
Portuguene galloon. Prcaeutly it fell a c&lm ; the
great ships of Spain lay motionless upon the
water, and weiv much too heavy to be towed.
The English craft, of tho lighter kind, weie easily
towed by their long bonts. When n breeze s])rmig
up, Frobisher was set upon by several gajleous,
and was in great peril, but the While Dear and
the ElixAeth Jmuu came up to hia relief. Other
ships muged up on either aide, and the battle
seemed becoming general, but the English had
a0ain bamed all their gaiipoiedcr! Hnving shot
away the maimuost, aud otherwise shattered the
Duke of Medina's owa ship, they took advantage
of the wind aud sheered off.

On the morrow, the 26th of July, thu Anuada
sfdled up the Cluuiuel with a fair breeze : Howard
liung on their rear, now aud then keepiug up a
feeble fire. He hud resolved not to renew the
struggle till they came to the Straits of Dover,
for he knew that a Btrong squadron, under Lord
Henty Seymour and Sir Thomas Winter, would
be ready there to take part in the action. As
he followed in the wake of the Spaniards, he re-
ceived ammunition and all proper supplies from
shore; and hia force wsh continually increaseil by
small ships and men out of ail the havens of the
realm; for the gentlemen of England hired Hhips
from all parts at their own charge, and with one
accord came flocking thither. There was a clear
sky and a leading wind, which enableii tlie Span-
iards to come to anchor before Calais on the 27 th.
Ifence Medina-Sidotiia would huve prot^eeded to
Dunkirk, but he was strongly advised to remain
where he wna; aud he sent, ovei^laud, a messen-
ger to the Buke of Parma, entreating hini to de-
tach some fly-boats, without which he could nut
cope with the light and active English ships, aud
to hasten the embarkation of his ti'oups, which,
he repre«euted, might efleet a lauding in Eng-
land under cover of his fire. But both these re-
quests were childish and absurd. Although Sey-
mour and most of the English ships had left the
station to co-operate with Howard, a small divi-
sion remained with the Dutch, who closed Parma's
only outlets, Nieujwrt and Dunkirk, and who
were more tlian sufficient to scatter aud sink his
flat-bottomed boats, if they had put to sea. But,
besides that these boats, which hail been hastily
constmcleii with bad materials, were already roU
ting and falling to pieces, disease had broken out
among the land-troops, and owing to the delayed
arrival of the Armada, their provisions were ol-
moet exhausted. Thus Parma could ilo nothing
till the blockade was cleared and pro|>er ships
with provisions were supplied to him. When he
had lost a whole day. the Duke of Medina
thoughtof making for Dunkirk; butinthemean-
wlule Seymour nnd Winter hod joined Howard,

and he was hemmed in by 140 English sail "fit
for fight, good sailors, nimble and tight for
tacking about." Tho Spaniards, however, were
well ranged, their greatest ships being pUiccU
seawai'd, next the enemy, like strong uastlea,
the lesser being anchored t)etween them and the
shore. Tlie English found that in this poaitiou
they mnst fight to disadvantage, but they hit upuu
a slijttagem which pi-e»enlly broke this array.
Eight small ships were gutted, Lwaiueoi'sd with
pitch, rosin, and wild-fire, filled with combuati-
bles, and placed under the desperate guidance of
Captain Young aud Captain Prouae, who, at the
dead of night, favoured by wide and tide, led them
close to the Spanish line, took to their boats,
fired the traius, and escaped. The S|)Bnianla,
who remembered some terrible fire-ships which
lukd beeu used against theni by the Dutch in the
Scheldt, began to cry, "The fire of Antwerp!
the fire of Antwerp!'' Some cut their cables,
others let their hawsers slip, aud in haste, fear.
and confusion, put to sea. In this dreadful dis-
order the largest of the galeasses ran foul of
another ship, lost her rudder, floated about at the
mercy of the tirle, and was then stranded. When
the fire-ahipa hod exploded, and the danger was
over, a gun was fired from the duke's ship as a
nignal to the Spaniards to return to their former
(KHiition; but the gun wai heard by few, because
" tliey were scattered all about and driven by
fear, some into the wide sea, some among the
shoala of Flandei'd." When morning dawned,
the English renewed the attack on the scattered
^UiulrouM. One fierce attAck was made on the
great galenas, atr:iuded near Colaia, but the small
craft coutd not board her until the admiral sent
100 meu iu his boats uuiler Sir Amyns Preston.
The Spaniards made n brave resistance ; but in
the eud their captain was shut through the head;
they were boarded at all points, cut to pieces, or
thrown overboard aud drowned. Iu this huge
bottom were found fiO,000 ducats. At other
places, Drake, Hawkins, Raleigh, Cumberland,
Seymour, and BVobisher, gained many advnu-
tAgcH. One of the capital ahip of the Armada,
a large galleon of Biscay, sa:ik under the English
fire. Tlie Stta Mitileo, commanded by Diegu
Pignatelli, a Neapolitan, iu attempting to cover
another ship, was mked by the Rainboa and
Vfingiiaiil. and finally compelled to surrender by
a decisive bi-ondside from a heavy Dutchman.
Another great Spaniard, dismantled end rent,
drifted, fell ashore, and was taken by the raari-
ners of Flushing. Two ketches foundered nt wa.
Still, iiowever, the rest of the fleet rallied, and
the Spaniards, who had ahown no deficienry of
courage, cried for revenge: but the Duke of Me-
dina-Sidunia had had enough of (his war. and
i^llinff a council, he resolved to make hia way

,v Google

An. laST- 1603] KLIZA

)>a<;k to Spain in the bent muiDer lie coulil; and
as it yraa held dangerous to attempt the English
iu their narrow aeas, he resolved to steer north-
w«rda and retnn) to Spain by sailing round Scot-
hind.

Ou the laiit day of July, Drahe wrote to W«l-
tii ugh am — "There wiu never anything pleased
me better than the weing the enemy flying with
a BO»itherly wind to the northwurd. We have
the Spaniards before us, and mind, with the grace
of God, to wrestle a pull with them." No one
can doubt of the activity and good-will of Dnike,
of rVobisher, of any one of the great eapUins
engaged ; but yet the Spaniai'ds were allowed to
fio down the wind without much pursuit. "The
•iliportiinity," says Sir William Monson, "was
losl, not through the negligence or back ward nesH
of the lord -ad mi ra), but mei-ely through the want
of providence in those that had the charge of
furuiahingand providing for the fleet ; for at that
lime of so great advantage, when they came to
examine their proviaioiia, they found a general
scarcity of powiler and shot, for want of which
Ihey were forced to return home. Another
oppiortiiuity wa.<! lost, not mnch inferior to the
other, by not sending part of our fleet to the west
of Ireland, where the Spaniards of necessity were
to pass, after so many dangers and disasters aa
they had endured. If we had been so happy aa
to have followed their course, aa it was both
thought and discoui-sed of, we had been absolutely
victorious over this great and formidable nnvy;
for they were brought to that necessity that they
would willingly have yielded, aa divers of theni
confessed that were shipwrecked in Ireland."'
In effect, when the Siianiards had luunded the
Urkneya, they were dispersed and shattered by a
tremendous tempest, the more perilous from their
want of a proper knowledge of those seas and
coants. They threw overboard horees, mules,
artillery, and baggage. Some of the ships were
dashed to pieces among the Orkneys and the

■ TVuirvrf Rjnet /Imuttt 4tf tki Jt'ait in Sitaitt. ThamDHrk'
■■)!« flict Df tlifi flaaC bsing Loft buv t^unbiiukHioii 1b ronarmvl
hy k latter wtlttan on the 8t1i of Augiut, from ch« oajnp at

— fVrt^. It appeeft, howe¥»
tbg Pirtli of Forth.

A part or riie flset fbHows
lud SmtlMi nut. u br ■

■.prrl: K»l*'y,' mn
lada ninal lian odM Phi1i|i Imnnw alnTta, tar
>r«BQla him u too wak «ITvtiuitl} Ui rafol ofni
ilcp«Dil«nll7 M

lliif hnriUltim of OthnrtiK dc'
Fmm. " Tin Bttulu ruado h; Cilh
«vtr. did not bring down," >i9 1*7*;

BETH. 1 S7

Western Isles, some were etrajidetl iu Norwov,
Etorae went down at sea with every soul on board,
some were coxt upon the irou coaat of Argyle,
and more tli!\ri thirty were driven on the coast
of Ireland, where the popular name of Poit-na-
Spagna, bestowed on a pkce near the Giant's
Causeway, recals a part of the fearful catAstrophe.
Those who fell among the Scotch were made pH-
soners by King James ; but the poor Spaniards
who fell among the Irish had a worse fate— an
eternal blot on the glory of those who inflicted
it. The English feared that they might join the
Irish Catholics, who were again in insurrection;
and Sir William Fitzwiliiam, the lord-deputy,
sent his marshal, who drove them out of their
hiding-places and butchered 2IK) of them in cold
blood. The rest, sick and starved, committed
themselves to tlie greater mercy of the waves in
their shattered vessels, and for the most part
were drowned. A small squadron waa driven
back to the English Channel, where, with the
exception of one great ship, it was taken by the
English, or by their allies the Dutch, or their
other friends the Huguenots, who had equippe<l
many privateera at Rochelle. The Duke of
Itfedina, about the end of September, an-ived at
Santander, in the Buy of Biscay, with no more
than sixty sail out of his whole fleet, and these
very much shattered, with their crews all worn
out with cold, and hunger, and sicknesf, and
looking like spectres. The Lord-admirat of Eng-
land had anchored safely in the Downs on the
6th of August, having lost but very few men and
only one vessel of any consequence. Military
skill and flat- bottomed boats could avail the Duke
of Parraa nothing against the victorious navy of
England ; and though an alarm wafl absurdly
kept up for some months, the danger was over
from the moment that the disorganized Armada
retreated to the north.' About the middle of
AngiiBi, the camp at Tilbury Fort was broken
up.'

or nilxbisf. He looked •rlUi a

to deetro> [t dvnTwliere ; tlie fn
UliertT r^ conidenoA to hlin appaered

t blBciTil Hiid murium dnpo^i

lert)' on the MTtli. nil mesna teeriMd gml 111 I
>1 hhn. hii conKHenoe munlHl tnrn no cnift
nt mtniBht towanU hjB nh^ect tJiroii^h Dl
crln>ea than ware e»flr InvlAho] by ni

but hte pestilential

led prorlnofl nil
Hte nneiiiaii uier uoUiei In bloo
dltpeoplod tbe kingdoms that v

»Google

18;

HISTORY OF ENOLAND.

[Civil asd Uiutart.

When the disbaDding of the troops wm over,
tlie Earl of Leicester took bis departure from
cowrt for Kenil worth Castle, but he fell suddenly
ill on the road, tud died at Combury in Uiford-
Bhire, on the 4th day of September. The queen
did not appear to grieve much for hie loss, and
almost immediatelj after his death sh« caused
fais efi'ei:t8 to be sold by auction, for Ilia satisfac-
tion of certain debts he owed her treasury.' The
fkct was, the queen had beeu for some time pro-
vided with another darling, to whom she trans-
ferred the strange affection which for so many
years she had bestowed on Leicester. This new
favourite was Bobert Devereux, Eitrl of E«ei,

RonsT Diraaet, Eul of Eaai.— Altar Olirer.

son of the unfortunate earl who had died in Ire-
land, and whose wife had beeu very irregularly
married to Leicester. At first the queen hated
him on his mother's account, but this feeling
guve way to an admiration of hia handsome
parson and vivacious dispositioD. He was made
master of the horse, knight of the Garter, and
captain-general of the tavalry in 1587, before
he was twenty years of age. Upon the death
of Leicester he succeeded at once to the dan-
gerous post of prime favourite — a post alroost as
disagreeable as it was dangerous, for it called
for the daily and hourly exercise of flattery
and gallantry towards an old woman, a sort of
service which ill suited the frank and impe-
tuous character of Esaei.

Don Aiitiinio, an illegitimate
A.D. I.)&9. ijgpjjg^ ^f Henry, King of Por-
tugal, and one of the pretenders to the crown of

wH polMMd toy fall Witt; lb* Hbar, lUl Ui dolh haJ bmi

that kingdom, had taken refuge in England,
where for some time he was left to piue in abject
poverty. But now Elizabeth resolved to use
him as a means of annoying Philip of Spain, in
his recent usurpation of Portugal. She boldly
set forth that Don Antouio was a legitimate
prince, and her parliament, breathing revenge
and conquest, voted her most liberal supplies,

id petitioned her to carry the war into Philip's
dominions. She told them that she was very
poor, and needed all the money they had voted;
but thereupon sn association, headed by Drake

id Norris, undertook to defray the greater part
of the expenses, and in a short time they collected
an armameut of about SCO sail of all sizes, carry-
ing nearly B0,(.)0O men. Don Antonio embarked
in royal state, and the fleet commanded by Drake
set sail. It was acwoely gone out of Plymouth
when the queen was thrown into tender anxietiea
by missing the young Earl of Essex, who bad
disobeyed her orders, and gone to indulge his
taste for war. The eipeditioa was badly planned,
miserably supplied with money and ammauition,
and but lamely conducted after the laudlfig of
the troops. It was also disgraced by cruelties
unusual even in that age. Drake repured in
the flrat instance to Corumia, where he took four
ships of war and burned the lower town. The
troops, which were commanded by Sir John
Norris, defeated a body of Spaniards iutienched
in the neighbourhood, but Uiey could not take
the upper town ; and as their powder began to
fall short, and sickuess to rage in their ranks,
they were re-embarked and carried to Peniche,
on the Portuguese coast. From Peuiche the
fleet proceeded to the mouth of the Tagua, while
the army ntarched through Torres-Vedras to
Lisbon, proclaiming everywhere their Don An-
tonio. But, cnntmry to their expectations, no
one joined the Don, and they found the country
laid wBSte and bare. There was only a weak
Spanish garrison within Lisbon, and the English
said they would certainly have taken that capital
if it had not been for their total want of proper
artillery! Famine was now added to sickness;
and Norris, who had disagreed with Drake as to
the management of the campaign, thought the
best thing to do was to re-embark and return
home. The young Earl of Essex displayed a
romantic bravery, yet the campaign, on the whole,
was exceedingly inglorious. When they counted
their numbers at Plymouth, more than one-half
of their 20,000 had perished, or were missing.

On his return to court, Essex found that he
had I)een nearly supplanted in the royal favour
by Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Charles Blount,
the latter, second son of Lord Mountjoy, and a
student in the Temple; but he soon prevailed
over these asplranta. Baleigh was aent into

,v Google

Ai>. ia87- 1603.1 EUZA

IrelaDc), where he reuiainei] foreeTeral jearaj and,
after fighting a duel with him, EsBex contracted
a great friendship for Blount, who soon after-
wards became Earl of Mountjoj. But though
Essex enjoyed the queeD'sgood graces, and readily
obtained gifta acd favours for himself, he was
generally UDSucceesful iu his nppticationa for his
friends, being constantly thwarted by the jealousy
of the Ceoila,and their party. In 1590, when
Walaingbam, the principal secretary, died, Eases
earnestly pressed the claims of the unfortunate
William Davison, who had been sacrificed to a
state subterfuge; but the "old fox," as Essex
called Lord Burghley, waa resolved to put his
8on Robert, afterwards Earl of Siilisbury, in Wal-
siugham's place. Tl)e queen, beset by these rival
pardes, had recourse to one of those middle means
which were familiar to her ; she desired Burghley
to take upon himself the vacant place, with per-
mission to his sun to act as his assistant. Eaaei,
vho was rather passionate than malicious, soon
forgot the dispute, bat it waa treasured up in
the eold, hollow heart of Sir Boljert Cecil. About
this time Eraaz married the widow of the Latneuted
Sir Philip Sidney, who was a daughter of Wai-
singliam. This waa gall aud wormwood to the
qneen, who, however, gradually seemed to forget
the offence.

In the following year, 15SI, the earl, whoee
ruling passion was a love of military glory, passed
over to France with a small army of 4000 men,
to assist Henry of Navarre, now Henry JV. of
Prance. Henry, on the death of his predecessor,
found himself opposed by the French Catholic
League, and obliged to strengthen his right of
birth with the right of conquest. He attempted,
indeed, to disarm the hostility of the Catholic
party by large eoucesnioDS ; but this so incensed
the Huguenots, who had hitherto been his sup-
port, and in whose religion he had been brought
up, that they threatened to leave him to the fury
of his enemies. He was forced to abandon for
a time the siege of Paris, aud to retire into Nor-
mandy. At this crisis he applied to his old secret
ally, Queen Elizabeth, who very opportunely sup-
plied hitn with ^20,000 in gold, and with some
troops. Essex greatly distinguished himself, and
tost by a musket-shot his only brother, Walter
Devereui, to whom ha was fondly attached.
Other expeditions were sent over from time to
time, that contributed to check the enemies of
Henry, particularly iu Brittany, where the
Spaniarda,in alliance with the loi-ds of the League,
had landedaconsiderableforce. This war, though
Homewhat costly, and contributing in no very
direct manner to any English interest, was very
popular with the Protestants; hut in 1593, Hen-
ry, to secure peace to his throne, embraced the
Catholic religion. Elizabeth charged him with

BETH. 189

perfidy and double-dealing; but when tlie French
king agreed to maintain an offensive and defen-
sive war agfuust Philip, as long as Philip should
remain at war with England, she was fain to be
satisfied,

Henry IV. derived no very great advantage
from his war with Spain, to which Elizabeth had
bound him. He saw Champagne invaded and
Burguudythreatened,Picardyovernin and Doul-
lena and Cambrai takeu by the Spaniards; aud
iu the month of April, 159E;, the Archduke Al-
bert, who had succeeded to the government of the
Spanish Netherlands, took from him the town
and citadel of Calais. Elizabeth, who bad of late
been very sparing of her money and troops, was
alarmed at the latter conquest, which brought
the Spaniards, who were again talking of inva-
sion, to the very threshold of her owij door, and
her grief and consternation were great, as her
two chief naval commanders, Drake and Haw-
kins, had died of sickness and vexation in the pre-
ceding year, in the course of a very unsucccMful
expedition to Spanish America. She now took to
writing prayers, and Sir Robert Cecil told Essex
that no prayer is so fruitful as that which pro-
ceedeth from those who nearest in nature aud
power approach the Almighty ; but the Lord
Howard of Effingham, thinking that something
more waa wanting, suggested another attack upon
the Spanish coast; and in the month of June,
1596, a fleet of 150 sail, with 14,000 land troops,
sailed from Plymouth. The lord-admiral took the
command of the fleet, and the Earl of Eases of
the army; but to make up for the inexperience
and rashness of the young earl, he was ordered
to submit all important measures to a council of
war, composed of Sir Walter Kaleigh, Sir Geoi;ge
Carew, and other tried otScem. In the month
of June the fleet sailed into Cadiz Bay, and in
defiance of the fire from the forts and battlements
and fifteen laige men-of-war, they got into the
harbour, where, after a fierce fight, which lasted
six hours, three of the largest of the Spanish ships
were taken, and about fifty sail were plundered
and burned. As soon as this was over, Essex
disembarked a part of the laud force, aud on the
next day he forced the city of Cadiz to capitulate.
The inhabitants paid 12,000 crowns for their
lives; theirhouses, their merchandise, their goods
of all kinds were plundered by the conquerors,
and the whole loss sustained by the Spauiai*dB
on this occasion was estimated at 30,000,000 dn-
cate. Essex, who was the real hero of this short
campaign, would have retained the conquest, and
he offered to remain at Cadiz and Isia de Leon
with 3000 men, but he waa overruled, and com-
pelled to re-embark, having first seen the forti-
fications razed.

On the return of this expedition, which was not

»Google

190 mSTORY OF ENOLASl), [Civil ami Miutaht.

ubteiitiibove ten weeks, (lU^naiDuaaiid jeuluusieB j the deetriictiuii ut the iivw Ai'iiiaila iu itx own
broke out among the comniandera, and the queeu i [wrLa, for the inCerceiJthig of the tieiisare ships,
was inceuseJ at the small portion of the plunder and the hsmsaing the Spanish eonatfi Mid colouies.
which was brought to lier treasury. The Cecils | The command whb given to the ardenl; Essei,
had taken fidvastage of his absence to undermine I who had under him Lord Thomns Howard and
the great cr-nlit of Easex, and now he was iimi- | Sir Walter Raleigh. The fleet sailed from Ply-
mouth in the month
of July, 1597, but
it was nliitost im-
mediately driven
back upon the coast
by n tremendous
storm, which dis-
abled many of the
ships. It did not
get toseangain till
the ITthof August,
by which time the
men had eaten up
all their provisions.
Although Emex
captured three Spa-
niah ships, which
were returning
diouslyAssatledfn>niallHi<ieH,atulSir Walter Ra- j from the Uavannah, and whiuh were valued at
leigh intrigued against bin), iind claimed to him- ;£lU0,OO0,and although hetook, in the Azores, the
self the chief merit of the expedition. Essex waa 1 ialesof Fayal,Gi-acioga,and Flores, which theEiig-
sinking to rise no more, when it lucky accident i lish could not keep, his expedition wns considered
came to his fuMixlaiice. Tlie Sininisb treasure i a failure. A Spanish fleet had threatened the
shipsfmm the New World arri veil safely in Spain, ; English coast in his absence, and on his return th«

with 20,000,01)0 dollars on board. Essex
tAined that he had projected a voyage from Cadiz
to Terceira, for the purpose of intercepting this
rich prize, and that he certaiidy should have
■uceeerled in iloing so had he not been thwarteil
and overruled bj' the creatures of the Cecils. Old
Ilurghley, who made some false steps to recover
the good-will of Essex — things almost unaccount-
able in such anmn^wHs called to his face a mis-
creant and cowanl, and driven for a time from
court. Ebwx wan sr>mewhat over-proud and con-
fident on this victory, but rot being capable of had been secretly negotiating with France, inti-
a lasting hatred, he I'onsented, iu the coiu-se of a ninteU that it would gladly include England in a
few montlis, to a regular treaty of peace and gcnei'al peace, and in the month of May, l5iHi,
"i the Cecils, which was managed, for : Sir Robert Cecil, who had been o

queen received him with frowns and reproachea
Tlie earl, who was furtlier incensed by some steps
gained in the government by Sir Robert Cecil and

hia friends, retired to his house at Wanstead in
Essex, and, under pretence of sickneas, refused to
go either to court or parliament. But the queen,
who was conalautly quarrelling with him when
present, could not bear his prolonged abjence,
and she got him back by ci-eatiug him hereditary
earl-marahal.

At thia moment Spain, which for si

his own purposes, liy Sir Walter Raleigh
in the beginning of the year 15fl7 Essex qiuir-
relled with tlie queen for promoting his personal
enemy, TIenry Tjord Cobham, to the office of
warden of the Cinque-porl;', which he, Essex, had

Paris, brought direct proposals for a treaty. Tlie
Cecils, with all the real of that tribe, insisted
that these proposals should be entertained, but
the warlike Essex arjiued hotly tor a continuation
of hostilities. The dispute in tJie cabinet grew

petitioned Elizabeth (o grant to his near conncc- violent, and old Burghley, losing his ten){ier al-
tion. Sir Roliert Sidney. He left the court, and , ti^ther, told P^ex that lie thought of nothing
was mounting his horse to go into Wales when , but blood aiul slaughter, an<l drawing out of
Ihe queen preswingly recalled him, and to pacify his ;>ocket a paalm-ltook, pninleil to the wonls
him made him muster of the ordnance. Philip , " bloml-thii-sty men shall not live out half their
'it Simin was now preparing a new .\rmada. The , days." The Cecil [larty can-ied the majority of
E[igltsh cabinet resolved to an tiri pate this attack, \ the nation with them. In the mean wli lie TTeniy
and after some struggles with the queen's eco- 1 IV. ot France had signed with Philip the treaty
uouiy, lliey fitted out a powerful armament tor | of Vervius, by which he recovere4 poaswsipn of

Google

A.D. 1587—1603.] ELIZA

Calais lUid the other places which he Iiad loat
during hia alliance with Elizabeth.

Irelajid was in a most alarmitig 8tat«, and it
was deemed expedient to send over a new lord-
depatj" witli extraordinary powers. The Cecils

Bn HonsT Cosl,

propoaed one officer, Essei another: the queen
aided with the Cecils, and attacked Essex with
heruaualseveritjof language.' The earl,forget-
ting faioiself (bid his duty, turned his hack upon
hia sovereign in a kind of contempt. The qaeeo
would not bear this insoleiice, and so bestowed
on bim a box on the ear and bade him go to the
daril. Essex immediately clapped his band on
his sword, and swore a great o^h, that be neither
eould nor would put up with an nfFront of that
nature, oor would he have taken it at the hands
of HeDrj Vin. himself ; and so saying, he rushed
out of the apartment, and instantly withdrew
from court, again to brood over his wrongs in
hia house at Wanatead. From June till October
he remained in that solitnde, bnt then, to the sur-
prise of most people, he returned to court, and
apparently to the poseeseion of his tormer favour.
It ia doubted, however, whether Elizabeth ever
forgavehim. "Hi8friends,"saysCamden, "dated
the earl's niin from this unfortunate circum-
stance; making tliis remark, that fortune rarely
caresseaacast-offfavouritea second time." Dur-
ing Emex'a seclusion Burgblej had gone to liia
grave. That remarkable statesman died on the
4th of August, 1098, in the 78th year of his age,
having mainly directed the councils of Elizabeth

* Ths itn^^ hare w»*. iwt whl^rh of the two* E^oi or lb*
CkUi, ihould appoint hii friend, but which ibonM pcsrant hii
(riend'a Mnf ^rpolntod. The pat of lord-Uenteiuuit or dapntj
b tnliDd WM DO loocn «B oiitibla on*.

BETH. 191

for forty long years. Elizabeth is B.tid to have
wept bitterly at hia death. About thesametime,
however, her heart was lightened by intelligence
of the death of her arch-enemy, Philip of Spain.

We pass over many of the persecutions, state
trials, and sanguinary executions, which threw a
gloom on the last years of this reign : but there
is one case which, on account of its frightful
absurdity, seems to merit a moment's notice.
One Stanley accused a private soldier, named
Squire8,'of adesign to poison the queen. Squires,
after lying on the rack for fiee kmtn, confessed
that Walpole, a Jesuit, had engaged him to com-
mit the crime, and had furnished him with a
most powerful poison. The poison was contained
in a double bladder, which Squirea was to prick
with a pin, and then to press on the pommel of
tlie queen's saddle. The qneen (so went the
story) would undoubtedly touch the poison with
her hand, and afterwards move her hand to her
mouth or nose, and so death must ensue, as the
said poison was "so subtle and penetrating" that
it would instantly reach either her lungs or her
stomach. The tortured man moreover confessed
that he had actually rubbed some of the poison
into the pommel of the saddle on which the
queen's majesty had actually ridden. On the
trial one of the queen's counsel conld not describe
ber majesty's peril for weeping, and another of
them declared that her escape was as great a
miracle as any recorded in Holy Writ. The
prisoner now said that he had confessed all sorts
of things on the rack merely to escape from that
tortuK. He was executed as a traitor, and died
maintaining his innocence of what we may pretty
safely call an impooaible crime.
' Upon the accession of Philip III., though no
treatyof peace was concluded, the war was allowed
to languish, and by degrees ail parties began to
entertain the notion of an enduring peace.

Meanwhile, the state of Ireland grew worse
and worse, though before this time things were
brought to such extremities, that Walsiugham
had thought it no treason to wish the island and
all in it buried in the sea. "The Irish nation,"
says A quaint old historian of the court of Eliza-
beth, " we may call a malady, and a consumption
of her times, for it accompanied her to her end;
and it was of so profuse and vast an expense,
that it drew near nnto a dist«mperature of state
and of passion in herself ; for, towards her laat,
she grew somewhat hard to please, her armies
being accustomed to prosperity, and the Irish
prosecution not answering her expectations, and
her wonted success ; for it was a good while an
unthrifty and inauspicious war, which did much
disturb and mislead her judgment; and the more
for diat it was a precedent taken out of her own
pattern. For as the queen, by way of division

»Google

192

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil ahd UiiiTAtr

liad, at her coming to tht crown, anpported the
revolting fltates of Holland, so did the King of
•jpaiii turn the trick iipoti herself, towards her
goiDg out, by cherishing the Irixh rebellion." '

The present lender of the Irish iDsurgeiits was
Hugh, the son of the late Baron of Duncannon,
who had been exalted by tlie queen to the earl-
dom of Tymiie, and who hud exslted himself to
be the O'Neil and rightful li'lsh tiovereigii of
Ulster — AQ extraordinary man, ambitious, crafty,
brave, and of tin indefatigable activity. Under
his guidance the Irish pursued a eoiisiatent plau,
whicli they had never done lietore. They woi-e
out the English troops by a desultory warfare
among marsbea, woods, and billn ; and strong in
their numbera and improved discijiline, they ven-
tured to face them in the oj>en field. Sir John
Norris, the veteran who had gained honour in
the Netherlands and in France, waa horuBsed to
death, and died of sheer grief and vexation. Sir
Henry Bsgnall was defeated in a pitched battle
fought at Blackwater, in Tyrone, and lost his
own life, the lives of 1500 of his men, his artil-
lery, and ammunition. After this victory all
the Irish, with the exception of a few eepts, pro-
claimed the Earl of Tyrone the saviour of his
couiitry,aud rose in arms, with the hope of wholly
expelling the English. To meet the atorm and
to measure swords with the Earl of Tyrone, it
was necBSBary to appoint a general of superior
ability, and one that enjoyed the favour of the
English army. The Cecils suggested that none
was BO fit as the Earl of Essex, for they wished
to remove him from court, and involve hisa in a
business which bod brought death, or di^^race
and ruin to all preoeding commanders. The earl
was warned by his friends to beware of Ireland:"
he expressed gr«at reluctance to take the com-
mand ; but at last he yielded to the requests of
the queen, and the temptations of a large sum of
money and greater powers and privileges than
had been enjoyed by any of hia predecessors;
and in the month of Uorch, 13S9, he left Ijondon
for Ireland. Almost as soon as lie reached Ire-
land be appointed his friend the Earl of South-
ampton to be general of the horse, considering
that the power to make such an appointment
was vested in him. But the queen, after some
angry correspondence, compelled him to revoke
it.' SoonafterhewBSaccnsedof wastingtiraeand
money. He replied that he acted by the advice
of the lords of the Iriah council, and in consider
ration of the state of oflairs. The queen hanhly
told him that she had graat cause to think that
his purpose wsa to prolong the war. The Cecils

' U appw* tbat Lord Smtliaipton'B diiflivcmT irjtii
qBHn wta* fmn hb muijlnt witknt ba l«i
Bt Ottttii at Emn.

took every advantage of this fresh quarrel, and

they no doubt lie){)e(l to check the emi'l's sujipltea
and emterrass hia operatioiiH. His tioops seem,
indeed, to have been a Falslalf 'h army; many de-
sertetl, many fell lame, and could not, or would
not, march; and then a aickneas of a serious kind,
the effect of scanty or bad proviHions, broke out
amongst them. By the month of August he had
no more than 3500 foot and 3(K) horse in the field.
He demanded and obtaiued a i-einforcenient of
2IK)0 men, upon which he marched, for the first
time, into Ulster, the centre of tlie rebellion. He
went, however, cumpluiniug tliat he had received
nothing but "<liscomforts and soul wouudH," and
that Raleigh and Cobhani with others were work-
ing his ruin at home. On the Sth of September
Essex came up with Tyrone and his whole army iu
the county of Louth, but instead of a battle their
meeting ended iu a j-ersonal jmrley, the result
of which WHS an armistice for six weeks, which
waa to be renewed fitira six weeks to six weeks,
until May-day following. The Earl of Tyrone
gave Essex several demands on the part of the
Ii'lsh, which he undertook to deliver to the queen.
Tyrone returned with all his forces into the heart
of his country. Eaaex, upon receiving some angry
despatches from England, left the government of
Ireland to the Archbishop of Dublin and Sir
George Carew, and, without waiting for any
order or permission, hastened to London. TJpon
Michaelmas Eve, about ten o'clock in the morn-
ing, he alighted at the coart-gate* in post, and
made all haste up to the presence, and so to the
privy-chamber, and stayed not till he came to the
queen's bed-chamber, where he found the queen
newly up, with her hair about her face; he
kneeled unto her, kiaaed her hands, and had
some private speech with her, which seemed to
give him great contentment; for when he came
fi-om her majesty he was very pleasant, and
thanked God, though lie had suffered much trou-
ble and storms abroad, he found a sweet calm at
home. In the course of the forenoon he had a
long conference with her majesty, who was very
gracious towards him. All the lords and ladies
and court gentlemen also were very conrt«ous —
only a strangeness was observed between the earl
and Sir Robert Cecil and that party. But after
dinner, when Essex went again to the queen, he
found her much changed ; oud she began to call
him to question for his unautharize<l return, and
his leaving of all things in Ireland in such peril
and confusion.' At night, between ten and eleven
o'clock, he received an order from her majesty to
consider himself a prisoner in hia room, On the
next day the lordn sat in council, and colled Essex
before them. It was said that never man an-
swered with more temper, more gravity, or dis-

»Google

A.u. 1581— ltt)3.J

KLIZABETH.

193

ci'etion.' Three days after he vraa delivered to
tlie lord-keeper U> be kept in " tree custody."
The ({rest and little Baeon, who hnd liad many
ubligatioua to Essex, but who waa uow uutkiuj;
ilia way to power through iiiti'icHte
m&zesjWaii consulted by the enrl. "It
is but a mist," said Baron ; " but it is
aa mistfi are — if it go upwardii it may
cause a tihower; if downwanls it will
clear up:" by whiuh periphrasis he
meant tJiat atl must depeod on the
queen's humour. This hunioui- seemed
to be fixed iu spite and revenge. She
said that she songlit his amendment,
not his destruction; but she consulted
with the judges whether he might
not be cliarged with high treason; she
denied him tlie society of liis wife, the
attendance of his physician, even when
Easex lay dangei'oaaly ill. In the
month of May, 1600, when he had
been nearly eight months under re- b

Htraint, he made a touching appeal to
bis sovereign, telling her how be had languiuhed
in four months' sickness, felt the very pauga of
death upon him, and his poor reputation not Buf-
fered to die with him, but buried and he alive.
On the 26th of August he was released from
custody, being told that he was not to appear at
court. A few days after his releaae a valuable
pat«nt for the monopoly of sweet wines, whieli he
had held for some years, expired : he petitioned
for a renewal of it as an aid to his shattered
fortunes ; but the queen, saying that, " in order
to manage an ungovernable beast, he must be
titinted in his provender," positively refused.

Essex now became desperate, and there was
one at his elbow to prompt the most desperate
deeds; this was Cuffe, his secretary, "a man
smothered under the habit of a. scholar, and
slubbered over with a certain rude and clownish
fashion that had the semblance of integrity."'
The secretary suggested that he might easily re-
cover hia former ascendency by foreibly remov-
ing Sir Robert Cecil, Raleigh, and othei-s, fi-om
court. Essex knew that he had been the darling
of the Londoners, who, with aa much boldness as
W.18 consistent with prudence, had defended bis
conduct in Ireland, liad laid the btanie of his
failures and his crosses on the malice of his ene-
mies, and had compaiMionated his misfortunes.
Some of the preachers had, indeed, been bolder
than this — defending him in the pulpit, and pray-
ing for him by name. Nor had the preM been
idle; pamphlets were put forth in his favour; and
Heywood, a civilian, publisheil a curious history
of the deposition of Richard IT., and dedicated it
to the earl, with lavish commendations of his cha-

racter. Other daring men joined in the advice
given by Cuffe; and Essex finally adopted their
l>erilaus plan. He threw o|>en the gates of his
house iu Loudon, and thither flocked Catholic

priests, Puritan preachers, soldiers and sailon,
young citizens and needy adventurers. A strong
party of military men, oflicera who had aerved
under him, took up lodginga in his immediate
neighbourhood, and formed themselves into a
council. Essex, moreover, wrote to the King of
Scots, representing the court party aa engaged in
a conspiracy against hia title to the succession, in
favour of the Infanta of Spain, Donna Isabella
Clara Eugenia, daughter of Philip II., and mar-
ried to the Archduke Albert. It was impossible
that these proceedings should be kept secret : the
court soon heard uU, and summoned Essex to ap-
pear before the privy council. At that moment
a note from an unknown writer, warning him to
provide for bis safety, was put into his hand; and
he was told, soon after, that the guard had been
doubled at the palace. He saw that he must
either flee, be arrested where be was, or strike his
blow; and on the following morning, being Sun-
day, the 8th of February, ill conjunction with the
liirls of Rutland and Southanijiton, Lord Sandys,
Lord Mounteagle,and about 300 gentlemen, many
of whom liad joined hitu the preceding night,
on notice sent to tliem by him that his life waa
threatened by Cobhani and Raleigh, he resolved
to enter the city during sermon time at Paul's
Cross, to call upon the people to joiu him against
his enemies, and with their help to force his way
to the queen. Aa the comjiaiiy was about to set
forth, the Lord-keeper Egerton, Sir William
Knolljs, the Lord Chief-justice Popbam, and
the Earl of Worcester, arrived at Essex House
to inquire the cause of that tumultuous assem-
j biy. They were admitted into the house by the
I wicket-gate, but their attendants were excluded.

,v Google

194

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[ClTIL AXt> HlLITAttr.

When Egort^n and Popham asked what all this
meant, Emez replied, in a loud and paanonate
voice — " Thert is a plot lud for mj life — lettera
liave been forged in my name — men hare been
hired to murder me in my bed — mine enemiea
cannot be aatiafied unless fhej suck my blood !"
The lord chiet-juHtice said that he ought to ex-
plain his case, and that the queen would do im-
partial justice. While thia conTersation was go-
ing on a tumult arose in the asaemblj, and aome
voices exclaimed—" They abuse yon, my lord —
they betray yoo — you are losing time J* The lord-
keeper, putting on his cap, and tnming to the
assembly, commanded them, in the queen's name,
to lay down their arms and depart. Upon this
there was a louder crj' — " Kill them ! kill them I
keep them for hostAgsa! — away with the great
seal !' The Earl of Essex took them to an inner
apartment, where, bidding them have patience
for half an hour, he bolted the door npon them,
and placed over them a guard of musketeers.
Then, drawing his sword, he rushed out of his
bouse, followed by the Boris of Rutland and
Southampton, Lord Sandya, Lord Monnteagle,
and most of the gentlemen. On reaching the
ci^ he found that the streets were empty, that
there was no preaching at Paul's Croas, and
that the people remained quiet within their
houses. Thaqueeu had procured tills great quiet
by sending order* to the lord-mayor and alder-
men. The earl shouted — "For the queen, my
mistress !— a plot is laid for my life I"— and he
entreated the dtizens to arm themaelrea. But
though the common people cried — '' Ood bless
your hoDonrl'not one man, from the chiefeat
citizen to the meanest artificer or 'prentice, armed
witli him. The citizens were not withont their
discontents and desire of change, particularly on
the grounds of religion— for London swarmed
with Puritans — but their wealth made them cau-
tious and loyal' Essex went into the house of
Smitb, one of the sherifb, and remained there
some time, not knowing what to do. About two
o'clock in the afteniooa he agun went forth, and
having passed to and fro through divers streets,
and being forsaken by many of his followers, he
resolved to make the nearest way to his own
house. Be found the streeta barricaded in many
places with empty carts, and coming into Ludgate,
he was strongly resisted by several companies of
well'armed men, levied and placed there by the
Lord-bishop of London. A sharp skirmish en-
sued; several were wounded; the earl himself
was twice shot through the hat; and Sir Ctmsto-
pher Blount, bis stepfather, was sore wounded in
the head, and taken prisoner. &sez then turned,
and retreated into Riday Street; and, being faint,
he desired drink, which was given him by the

citizens. He made his way to Queenliithe, whcdre
he took boat, and so gained Essex House. To
bis increased dismay he found that all the im-
prisoned lords had been liberated and conveyed
to court, by his own est«emed tmsty friend and
servant. Sir Ferdinondo 0«oi;ge, who by this act
sought to provide for his own safety. He then
fortified his bouse with full purpose to die in bis
own defence — hoping, however, it is said, that
the citizens would yet join him. But the home
was presently hemmed in on all sides by a very
great force, and not a man came to his relief.
Some great pieces of artillery were planted against
the building. His case was hopeleBs, but still he
hesitated. One of hia faithful followers, Captain
Owen Salisbury, seeing all hopes wen gone,
stood openly in a window, bare-headed, on pur-
pose to be slain; and one in the street hit him in
the head with a musket bullet. At length, about
ten o'clock at night, Essex held a parley, and then
Burrendered to the lord-admiral, upon a promise
of a fair hearing and a speedy trial Fii i
and the Earl of Southampton were committed U>
the Tower, the other prisoners were lodged in
various jails in London and Westminster.' On
the 19th the Earls of Essex and Southampton
were arraigDed before twenty-five peers, with the
Lord Bnckhurst as lord-steward. Among the
peers were Cobham and Qrey, and others the
personal enemies of Essex, the very men whom
he had accused of seeking his life. With his
eye fixed on these men, Essex touched his com-
panion in misfortune, Southampton, on the
sleeve, and smiled. The indictment charged Uiem
vith having imagined to deprive and depose the
queen's majesty, bo procure her death and de-
stniction, and also a cruel slaughter of her ma-
jesty's subjects, with alteration of the religion
eatabUshed, and total change of government.

Essex, in pleading not guilty, called Qod to
witness that he had done nothing but that which
the law of nature commanded him to do in his
own defence. The indictment was supported
with the usual vehemence by the crown lawyers,
YelvertoD, Coke, and Francis Bacon. The latter,
by his conduct on this occasion, laid some of the
dark spota on hia fame which no genius can or
ought ever to erase. It appears, however, that
his tone was less virulent than that of either
Coke or Yelverton; but Coke and Yelverton
were not bound to the Earl of Eaaei, as Bacon
was, by the strongest obligations. Yelverton
compared Essex to Catiline ; for as Catiline en-
tertained the most seditious persons about all
Rome, BO had the Earl of Essex entertuned none
bat Papists, recusants, and athebts for his rebel-
lion in London ; but be hoped that Qod, of his
mercy, would not suffer any hurt ; and he prayed

»Google

A.i> 1587-1C03.1 EUZA

God long to preserve the queen. Easeic and
SoDthampton aaid "AmCD! aod God confound
their soub whoever wished otherwise." Coke,
as attorney-general, defined the crime, and set
forth the acta of treason proved by witneasea of the
insurrection, and by the confeeeiona of accompli-
CM, whom thequeen, "outof overmuch clemency

Bib Kdwabp Cokb.— I'tom > Bub |>rliil b/ Loreiii.

to others, and overmuch cruelty to herself, had
tpartd tht rack and torture;" and he ended a long
speech, in which he called the prifloners Papist
and dissolute, desperate and atheistical, by say-
ing, " The earl would have called a parliament;
and a bloody parliament would that hare been,
where ray Lonl of Esse):, that now stands all in
black, would have worn a bloody robe; but now,
in God's jost judgment, he of hia earldom shall
he Robert the last, that of a kingdom thought to
be Robert the first." Essex begged that he might
not be judged by the atrocity of Coke's words,
but by the facts ; declaring that he resorted to
arms in self-defence, and to remove evil counsel-
lors, naming Cobham and Raleigh; that he had
never the remotest thought of violence to the
queen. Cobham, who was sitting among the
peers, roee in his place, and said that he bore
malice, but only hated the ambition of Essex.
Essex swore that hs would submit to have his
right hand cut off if it might remove from the
queen's person such a tale-bearing, vile calumni-
ator. The Earl of Southampton pleaded that
many things, indeed, were propounded, but no-
thing performed, or even resolved upon ; that
had, indeed, been advised among them that thej
should surprise the court, and take tlie Tower at
once: but, bh neither of these two things had been

I. 195

done, there could be no treason. It is true, he
stud, they had consulted at Drury House how
they should secure the queen or get free access
to her ; but this was only that they might pros-
trate tbemselvea at her feet, and lay forth their
grievances, which were concealed from her by
those who constautlysurrounded her. "Icoofesa,"
he added, "that I could have been well con-
to have ventured my lita in my I>Drd of
Essex's quarrel against bis private enemies ; this
the whole scope and drift of all our meet-
inga; and that this was not with any treasonable
thought I take God to witness." Bacon bad to
perform the task of taking to pieces and expos-
ing the "weak defence* of hie former friend and
patron Esaex. "And this I must needs say,"
said he, "it ia quite evident that my Lord of Es-
had design in hia heart agtdnat the govern-
ment, and now, under colour of excuse, he lays
the cause upon his private enemies. My Lord of
~~ I, I cannot compare your proceedings more
rightly than to those of Hsistratus in Athens.
My Lord Cobham and Sir Walter Raleigb, if you
rightly understood them, are your best friends,
honourable and faithful counsellors." Here Es-
tx reminded Bacon that he himself, " who was
daily courtier, and had free access to her roa-
jeatj," pretending to be his friend, and grieved
at his misfortunes, had undertaken to go to the
queen in his behalf, and had drawn up in his
own hand a letter, from which it would appear
what conceit be, Mr. Bacon, had of those two
men (Cobham and Raleigh) and of him. Coke
came in to the aid of Bacon, who was somewhat
abashed by this reference to his own doings and
free speaking about Cecil, Cobham, and Raleigh.
Essex was accused of saying, in I^ndou, that the
crown of England was sold to the Spaniards. " I
spake it not of myself," said Essex, " for it was
told me that Mr. Secretary Cecil did say to one
of hia fellow-counHellora that the infanta's title,
comparatively, was aa good in succession as any
other." Upon this Sir Robert Cecil, who had
been present in the court, but unseen, started up
from his hiding-place, and then humbly prayed
the lord high-steward, upon hia knees, to give
him leave to answer to so false and foul a report.
Having obtained permission, he fell upon the
prisoner in this sort — "My Lord of Essex, the
difTerence between you and me is great. For wit
I give you the pre-eminence — you have it abun-
dantly ; for nobility also I give you place — I am
not noble, yet a gentleman ; I am no swordsman
— there, also, you have the odds ; but 1 have in-
nocence, conscience, truth, and honesty, to defend
me against the scandal and ating of slanderous
tongues; and in this court I stand as an upright

man, and your lordship as a delinquent

I You have a wolf a heart in a sheep's garment ; in

»Google

191

HISTOKY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil. AKD WlLlTAItr.

appearance humble aud religious, but in thii op-
poaition not bo. God be thanked ne now know
jou; your religion appears by those Fapiats who
were your chief connsellorB, and to whom and
others you had promised liljerty of conscience
hereafter. . . . But I challenge you to name the
counsellor to whom I spoke these words about the
infanta's title. Name him if you dare ; if you i!u
not name him, it must be believed to be a fic-
tioD." The Earl of Essex, turning to Southamp-
ton, said that As was the honourable person that
had heard it all. Cecil then conjured Southamp-
ton, by their former friendship, to name the coun-
sellor who bad said that he (Cecil) had s)>oken
those words. Southampton appealed to the court
whether it were consistent with honour that lie
should betray the secret; "and," added he, "if you
say upon your honour it be fit, I will name him.'
The court said that it was tit and honourable;
and Southampton thereupon said, " It was told my
Lord of Essex and myself that you should speak
such words about the infanta to Mr. Comptrol-
ler, Sir William KnoUys." A serjeant^t-nrms
was despatched for KnoUys; and, in the interval,
Coke pressed the accusations of hypocrisy and
irreligion upon Essex — "forasmuch as, having
in his house continual preaching, he yet was con-
tent to hai'e Sir Christopher Blount, a notorious
Papist, in his house, and to promise toleration of
religion.* Blount, it must be remembered, was
Essex's stepfather.' The earl said he knew him to
bea Papist, and had often sought his conversion;
and that, being in speech together about matter
of religion, Blount had told him that he was
too passionate against those of his profeasion:
"Whereto," said Essex, "I replied thus — Did
you ever know that at such times as I had power
in the state, I was willing that any one should
be troubled for his conscience! And this, my
lords, is the whole ground and substance of my
promise for toleration of religion." It was very un-
necessary for him to defend himself agniust what
ought to have tended to his glory! When Sir
William Kuollys arrived in court, he deposed
that he merely heard Cecil say that the title of
the infanta was maintained in a printed book."'
It was not likely that KnoUys should commit
himself in a question between a fallen favourite
and aminist«r of slAte, like Sir Robert Cecil, daily
rising in favour and power : on the other baud,
the chftTffe against Cecil wears little appearance
of probability. None of the witnesses were pro-
duced on the trial, with the exception of George,
who had liberated tho ministers from &sex's

InuT. TlilibDok, Khlofa :
i* pipfMMDd to hAT« b«]
Jmil, Father Punu.

house, aud this man was confused and pale when
cross-questioned by Essex. After another speech
by Bacon, who now compared Essex to the Duke
of Guise, and called his dt/ence a siUy defence,
and his offence treason, the lord high-steward
directed the peers to withdraw, and ordered the
lieutenant of the Tower to remove the two prU
Sonera fruiu the bar.

When the lords had got together in a private
place, the two chief-justices and the lord chief-
baron went to them to deliver their opinions in
law. In half an hour the peers came forth again
with an unanimous sentence of guilty against both
the earls. When the clerk of the crown asked
the mournful question of form, what he could say
for himself why judgment of death should not be
prouounced against him, Essex answered like a
man tii-ed of life, but he begged earnestly for
mercy to his friend Soutliampton. The lord-
steward advised him to submit, and implore the
queen's mercy by acknowledging and confessing
all his offences. Essex begged him not to think
him too proud, but he could not ask for mercy in
that way, though with all humility he prayed
her majesty's forgiveness; he would rather die
than live in misery; he had cleared his accounts,
had forgiven all the world, and was ready and
willing to be out of it.' Immediately after hia
arrival at the Tower, he was visited by the dean
of Norwich, who was to endeavour to obtain
from him the names of all such as had been en-
gaged with him in any way in the enterprise.
The dean met with no success; but it was other-
wise when the earl was attended by his own
chaplain, Mr. Aahton — " a base, fearful, and mer-
cenary man," who had obtained a great ascen-
dency over him, and who, to all appearance, had
now sold himself to the Cecil party at court The
day after Ashton's visit, Essex, it is said, made
an ample confession, implicating several indivi-
duals, and, among others, the King of Scotland.
His confession filled four sheets of paper; but
many doubts ore entertained as to its authenti-
city. We believe that the story of the queen's
vacUlation and agony, with the romantic incident
of the ring, rests upon no good foundation. Her
personal regard for Essex hod been extinguished
for some time ; and it is proved, by letters and
documents in the State Paper Office, that, aa
soon OS his confession was obtained, his execu-
tion was pre)>ared, witliout serious objection on
the part of the queen. One of the strangest
things attending the case was the resolution to
make this execution a private one, and to declare
that the earl himself had been an exceeding ear-
nest suitor to be executed privately in the Tower,
whither no friend, not even his wife or mother,
had been admitted to see him since his first com-

■ Jmnllsa, tViniiiiia Tnali,

»Google

. Iflfl7— 1603.]

ELIZABETH.

197

mittal ! It wMevidently an object witli govem-
metit to bury the real voice of the enrl, that he
might not retrieve hia chaiacter for honour and
faithfulneas to his fi-iends, or qaestion or contni'
diet the alleged coDfeR&ioii. Where precautions
like these are tnkeu — when things are witnessed
hy a few picked courtiers and discreet divines,
we can have no reliance on the descriptions of
execntioDH and last words.'

On Ash Wednesday, the 2)th of Februarj, at
jdx)ut eight o'clock in the morning, the head of
Robert Devereui, Earl of Essex, waa severed from
his body in an inuer court of the Tower. Sir
Walter Haleigh, according to his own acconnt,
witnessed bis death from the Armonry. He vaa
only thirty-three years old! "He waa a most
accomplished peison," says Camdun, "and had
all those good qualities in perfection that become
a nobleman. The queen had a particular value
for him, because he was a brave soldier, and, in-
deed, was made for a camp. . . . Indeed, lie was
a person not rightly calculated for a court, as
being not easily brought to any mean complian-
ces. He waa of a t«mper that would readily
kindle at an injury, but would not so easily forget
one; and so far was he from being capable of
dissembling a resentment, that he carried his pas-
nions in his forehead, and the friend or the enemy
was easily read iu his face." But, though impe-
tuona and rash, Essex was far indeed from being
the faair-brainedshallow man that he has been re-
presented. His acquirements were very consi-
derable; and "all his letters," as it has been ob-
served, "whether in Latin or English, of an ear-
lier or later date, public or private, pai-take
uniformly of the Bame cleamees and elegance of
manner.*' Bacon admitted that his style was
better than bis ovrn; and to beauty of style and
N refined and elegant taste Essex united occa-
sionally great and noble thoughts. His name,
also, ought to be revered as that of a friend to
religious toleration in a moat intolerant age. He
waa acceptable, says Carte, to the Catholics, for
his extreme aversion to the potting of anybody
to death on accouut of religion. "The Irish,"
said Essex himself, "are alienated from the Eng-
lish as well for religion as government. ... I
would achieve pacification ther« by composition
nther than by the sword." The Earl of South-
ampton waa not seut to the block, but ho remained
a close prisoner in the Tower until the accession

tlut b> might nj loinaltdiMr Dn&Toanble to th« qii««D> vlrtufl.

■h<» Emi wu much lldmlnd, th(t tha mrl lud pelUional (o
die In prlTits. "Sty" »iili*d Uenrf IV., "nthat the clem
rmtnrr. n>r h« didrad nothing man thui to ilia in iiabllo."
Tliat put at t)i< olngr, hmiiviir, thai wsn in Uh hsbit nt
nniTiDg oonrt Dnj0r>» declflred that Uh e*ti hml k^ed fbr ft
(riTitE aunthin. In anlM- Ibnl h« niiglit nnt birt hb ntigiocii
thoflghta diitnibad. < EUis, Originat Mlm.

of James I., when he was immediHtely released,
restored to his title and estates, and taken into
that sovereign's favour.

There were many things which rendered the
close of tliis long reign gloomy and altogether
different from its beginning. In spite of the pul-
pit and the press, Essex continued the darling of
the people, and a strong current of unpopularity
set in against the government. When the old
queen appeared abroad tlie people no longer
hailed her as they had been wont to do; and her
ministers and counsellors were insulted and
hooted. And yet they went on to shed more
blood about this wild business, which ought to
have been forgotten as soon as over. On the last
day of February a young man named Wood-
hoDse was hanged for speaking against the queen's
proclamation and apprehending of the Earl of
Essex. On the 13th of March, Cuffe, the secre-
tary, and Merrick, the steward of Essex, were
drawn to Tyburn, and there hanged, bowelled,
and quartered. On the I8th of March Sir
Charles Davere, or Danvers, a close friend of the
Earl of Southampton, whs publicly beheaded
upon Tower-hill. On tlie same day, and as soon as
the body of this victim was removed from the
scaffold, Sir Christopher Klount, the stepfather
of the Earl of Essex, was stretched over the same
block, and died with eqnal firmness, protesting
that he had been and was a true Catholic. Sir
Walter Raleigh stood near the scaffold all the
time, not foreseeing the day when he should be
there as a sufferer, not as a spectator. Sir John
Davies, Sir Edward Baynam, and Mr. Littleton
were also condemned as traitors ; but Davie,
after a year's confinement, obtained a pardon;
Baynam bought a pardon hy giving large sums
of money to Sir Walter Raleigh; and Littleton,
having surrendered a great estate, and paid a fine
of ^10,000, was removed to the King's Bench,
where he died three months after.

If at this moment Elizabeth had had the neck
of the sapient James of Scotland under the pro-
tection of her laws, it would scarcely have had a
better chance than hia mother's; for Elizabeth,
no doubt, knew of that prince's correspondence
with the Earl of Essex. There is some reason,
indeed, for suspecting that the English queen
was not unconcerned in an extraordinary affair
which bapfwned in Scotland only a few months
before Essex's wild outbreak. The Cowrie con-
spintcy, as it is called, is perhaps the most per-
plexing puzzle in history — for not only is the
evidence as to the facts defective and contradic-
tory, which is a common ease, but we are Bcarccly
any nearer a satisfactory solution of the mys-
tery, let us select any version of the story we
please. Among many different theories which
the ingenuity of modem inquirers has suggested,

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil, AKD MiLlTAST.

one, proposed by an eminetit hbtorinn, would
tmce the attempt directly to the contrivance of
Elizabeth: in support of which view it^is alleged
that, besides the Earl of Gowrie'a known attach-
ment to the English interest, he had, during his
residence iu Paris, contracted an intimate friend-
ship with Sir Heniy Neville, the queen's anibaa-
sador there, and was recommended by him to his
court as a person of whom great use might be
made ; that he had been received by Elizabeth,
as he returned home through Enf^and, with dia-
tinguiahed marlca of respect and favour ; that
Elizabeth's participation in the affair was matter
of general suspicion at the time ; that for some
months before on English ship was obeerved
hovering in the mouth of the Firth of Forth; that
aft«r the failure of the conspiracy the earl's two
younger brothers fled into England, and were
protected by Elizabeth; and, finally, that James,
though he prudently concealed what he felt, is
welt known to have at this time taken great um-
brage at the behaviour of the English queen.
The object of the Gowrie conspiracy, it is as-
sumed on this supposition, waa not to murder
but only to coerue James, and control the govern-
ment, as had been the object of the authors of the
Raid of Ruthrea, sixteen years before— on enter-
prise which waa in like manner instigated and
supported fay Elizabeth.'

In the month of October, 1601, Elizabeth met
her parliament for the laat time, aiek and failing,
but dreeaed more gaily aud gorgeously than ever.
She was in great Htraits for money in order to
carry on the war in Ireland. The houses voted
her much more than had ever been voted at a
time, viz. — four anbudie«, and eight tentiia and
fift«enth8; but the commons were as fi'ee of their
complaints as they were of thsir money, and they
called loudly and boldly for a redrras of grievan-
ces. The moat notorious of the abuses which
disgraced the civil government of Elizabeth were
an endless string of monopolies, which had been
for Uie most part bestowed by the queen on her
favourites. All kind of wine, oil, salt, starch,
tin, steel, coals, and numerous other commodi-
ties, were monopolized by men who had the ei-
cloaiva right of vending them, and fixing their
own prices. The common^ complaints were not
new; they had pressed them many yesra before,
but they had be«i then silenced by authority,
and told that no one must speak against licenses
and monopolies lest the queen and council should
be angry thereat Of courae, iu the interval,
they hod gone on increasing. When the list of
them waa now read over in the house, a member
asked whether bread was not among the num-
ber) The house seemed amazed. "Nay," said
he, " if no remedy is found for these, bread will
~ ' Hubratm, Uul. ficM.

be there before the next parliament." The min-
isters and courtierB could not withstand the im-
petuous attacks which ensued. Raleigh, who
dealt largely in tin, and had his fingers in other
profitable monopolies, offered to give them all
up : Cecil and ^icon talked loudly of the prero-
gative, and endeavoured to penuade the house
that it would be fitter to proceed by petition
than by bill ; but it was properly answered that
nothing had been gained by petitioning in tho
laat parliament After four days of such debate
as the house had not heard before, i^izabeth
sent down a message that she would revoke all
grants that should be found injurious by fair
trial at law; and Cecil, seeing that the commons
were not satisfied v ith the ambiguous gener&lily
of this expression, gave an assurance that the
existing patents ^ould all be repealed and no
more be granted. The commons hailed their
victory with exceeding great joy, though in effect
her majesty did not revoke all the monopolies.
Elizabeth now employed an oblique irony against
some of the movers in the debate, but the impe-
rious tone, the harsh schooling, of former years,
were gone. Her resolute will waa now etmggling
in vain agiunst the infirmities of her body, and
she saw that there was a growing strength and
spirit among the representatives of the people.

In the meantime the Lord Mountjoy, the suc-
cessor to Essex in the command of Ireland, bod
to maintain a tremendous struggle, for Bon Juan
D'AguiUu- knded at Kiusale with 4000 Spanish
troope, fortified himself skilfully in that posiUon,
and gave freeh life to the Catholic inaurgents.
But Uount joy acted with vigour and decision;
he collected all the forces he possibly could, and
shut up the Spaniards within their lines at Kin-
sale. On Christmas Eve (1601) the Eari of Ty-
rone advanced to the assistance of his friends
with 6000 native Irish and 400 foreigners. His
project was to attack the English besiegers by
surprise before daylight, but Mountjoy, who was
awake and ready, repulsed him from all points
of his camp, and finally defeated him with great
loss. Thereupon D'Aguilar capitulated, and was
permitted to return to Spain, with arms, baggage,
and ammunition. His departure and the de-
structive ravages of famine brought the Irish to
extremities, and Tyrone, after fleeing from place
to place, capitulated, and, upon promise of life
and lands, surrendered to Uountjoy at the end
of 1602.'

Mouutjoy's great victory at Kinsale somewhat
revived iJie spirits of Elizabeth, who found fur-
ther consolation in a tall Irish favourite. "Her
eye," vrrites Beaumont, the French ambaasodor,
" ia still lively; she baa good spirits, and is fond
of life, for which reason she takes great care nf

»Google

A-D. 1687—1603.] ELIZABETH.

herself: to which maf be added an iuclination
for the Earl of Clancarty, a brave, handsome
Irish uobleiaan. This makes her che«rfiil, full
of hope and confidence reapecUng her nge; this
inclinatioa ia, besidea, promoted by the whole
court with so much art that I cannot sufficiently
wonder at it. . . . The flatterers about the court
Bay tbia Irish earl resembles the Earl of Essex ;
the queen, on the other hand, with eqnal dis-
simulation, declat«a that she cannot like him be-
cause he too strongly revives her sorrow for that
eorl J and this contest employs the whole court.'
A few mouths afterwards, on the 19th of March,
1603, Beaumont informed his conrt that Eliza-
beth was sinkioK, and that disease, and not, as
she alleged, her grief at the recent death of tlie
Countess of Nottingham, had prevent«d her from
showing herself abroad— that she had scarcely
any sleep, and ate much less than usual — that
she had so great a heat of the mouth and stomach
that she was obliged to cool herself erery instant,
in order that the burning phlegm, with which
^e was often oppressed, might not stifle her.
Some people, he said, were of opinion that her
illnesa had been brought on by her diapleasnre
touching the succession ; some, that it had been
caused by the Irish affairs, her coundl having
constrained her (against her nature and inclina-
tiOD) to grant a pardon to the Eart of Tyrone ;
while others affirmed that she was possessed with
grief for the death of the Earl of Essex. " It is
certain," adds the ambosBador, " that a deep me-
lancholy is visible in her coun'^nance and actions.
It is, however, much more probable that the suf-
ferings incident to her age, and the fear of death,
are the chief causes of all." In bia next despatiih
he says that the queen, who would take no medi-
cine whatever, was given up by the physicians.
She would not take to her bed, for fear, as some
supposed, of a prophecy she should die in that
bed. " For the last two days," he adds, "she has
been sitting on cushions on the floor, neither ris-
ing nor lying down, her finger almost always in
her month, her eyes open and fixed on the ground.
.... Yet, as this morning the qneen's band has

799

gone to her, I believe she means to die as cheer-
fully as she has lived."

On the 21st of March, she was laid in bei),
partly by force, and listened attentively to the
prayers and discourses of the Bishopof Cliichester,
the Bishop of London, but chiefly to Whitgift,
Archbishop of Canterbury. It is scarcely neces-
sary to put the reader on his guard against an
over-poaitivebelief inany of the accounts of what
passed in these moments of mystery and awe,
when the people about her were determined to
make her say the things that made most for their
interest and plans. Tlie narmtive more generally
received is, that, on the 22d of March, Secretaiy
Cecil, with the lord-admiral and the lord-keeper,
approached the dying queen and begged her to
name her successor: she started, and then said,
" I told you my seat has been the seat of kings ;
I will have no reucal to succeed me ! * The lords,
not understanding this dark speech, looked the
one on the other; but, at length, Oecii boldly
asked her what she meant by those words — " no
rascair She replied that a king should succeed
her, and who could that be but her cousin of
Scotland) They then asked her whetiier that
was her absolute resolution) whereupon she
begged them to trouble her no more. Notwith-
standing, some hours after, when the Archbishop
of Canterbury and other divines had been with
her, and had left her in a manner speechless, the
three lords repaired to her again, and Cecil be-
sought her, if she would have the King of Scots
to succeed her, she would show a sign unto them.
Whereat, suddenly heaving herself up in her bed,
she held both her hands joined together over her
head in manner of a crown. Then she sank down,
fell into a dose, and, at three o'clock on the morn-
ing of the 24th of March, which Bacon accounted
"as a fine morning before sun-risiug," meaning
thereby the rising of James, she died in a stupor,
without any apparent pain of mind or body, at
her palace of Richmond. She was in the seven-
tieth year of her sge, and the forty-fifth year of
her reign.'

»Google

HISTOHy OF ENGLAND.

CHAPTER XX.— HISTORY OF RELIGION.

A.D. 1486—1603.

Predoinuuknoa of PajMry doriag the utiier pirt of thii period — Ineffectoal atteaipta of Henrj Til. to restrict it
— MtTtjTdoiu during bU reign — Doctrinea held b; thoee who Bufbrsd mirtfrdDm — Intanul hiatoir of the
church daring the tesga of Henr; VII.^Theolagio*! ooDtroreniy kt the 4oceaeioii of Hanr; Vlll. — Difficulty
of paniebiag eocleauitic&l offendon — Attempt to Urriit benefit d clergy — Tri&l of Bieh&rd Hozixie for bereij
— Hif death in priioQ— Tri^ uid poniihiiient of hie dead body— Comaqnencea to the chorch from thii oTont
— Wolny'i ucendeacy and iuflaence— Shore of Heory VlII. in the Englieh Refonnatiou — Career of Lather
in Qermany — ControTsny between Henry Till, and LQther — Change in Uenry'a proceedings from hia lore
of Anne Boleyn — Proteitantism cat np in England — Suppremon of the monartio institntioni— Chargei
broogbt againit thsm — Waite of the conflacated church property— The Bible tranilated into Engliafa —
l^rion* attempt! t«i make the Scriptnrei acaeaeible to the laity— The ne* tranalatioa made patent to Uie
people — Iti effeot* — Alteratiosi made in the Directory for I'ublic Worship — Poblication and character of
"King Henry'e Primer"— WaTsringi of Henry VIII. in the progreaa of the Beformation — Doctrinal aiticlee
raUfied in the conTOcation of 1636— Their comprominng ahaiacter — Deetruction of imagea, relica, &o.^BeaC'
tion in the progrcm of the Hetarmation — Henry Till, aaaumea to himaelf the aathority of pope — Hia enact-
menta in this new character-The aii articles of the "Bloody Btatate"— They are ertabliahed aa the rale
of taitb in England — They terminate the reformation of Henry VIII.— Injunctioni iimed by Bishop Bonner
to his dergy— Their dsnnnaiation of miracle plays and interlndia—Aot of pariiamsnt to aoppraea theae
eihibitiona — Pariiameutary act to regulate the reading of the Scriptura*— Publicatian of the "Bishops'
Book "—Its aabseqaent editions and alterations— The " Bloody Statote " atiU continued— Hartyrdoms in con-
aeqaenoe of its violation— Stale of the English church at the cloee of the reign of Henry TIU.- Numeral
superiority of the Papiati over the Protettaiita at the accenion of Ednard VI.— Cirouuietancea favourable to
the Refonnation — ^Ita rapid rise— Homilies introduced by Cranmer into the churches — Caotioaa proceedings
of Cranmer sod the Befonners- BetnoTal of images and religious emblems from the churchea — The Book of
Common Prayer introduoed — Settlement of doctrine finally effected — Beform of the canon law — Hie reign
of Hary advances the Reformation in England — Her proceedings as the oppoosut of the Beformation — Hai^
tjldoms daring her reign — Eogliah Frcteilanta drireu into oiile — Acceaiion of Eliiabeth — Her leaninga
towards Popery- Her first steps to restiwa the ardour of her Protestant aubjeota — Re-eetabliahment of Pio-
tsatantism — The oath of supremacy r^eeted by the biihopa— General visitation of the National clergj —
Its iiuunctions— Completion of the Protestant Te-establiabment in England, in 1662— Coverdale'a new trans-
lation of the Bible— Middle position of the Engliah church complained of— L^lative church enactments
during the reign of EUnbeth — Abolition of the Papal aapremacy — Act for uniformity in religions oidi-
nancee and publio worship— Penaltiee for their infringement^ — Their execution against Papiata— Bise of
Puritaniam in England — Its increase by the return of English exiles from abroad — Dootriue of the English
on the right of private iuterpistation of Scripture — Sentiments of the earlier Puritans on the subject — Their
ideas of toleration — I'eraeciitiao commenced against the Puritana — They withdraw from the Estafaliihed
church — Strength of Puritaniam in the English colleges— Continned war between Puritaniam and the Estab-
lished church— Statutes against the Puritans— Origin of the Browniata or Independenla— Archbiahop Wliitgiit'a
sevsre measares against the Puritans — Hsvival of the statute for the buming of heretics — It is brought into
act againat the Anabaptists. The Befbrmatioa in Scotland — Previous exemption of the country ftvm the
sjnifiiiiiiii of the Popedom — Uudae power obtained in consequenoe hy the Scottish priesthood — Corrup-
tions of the Scottish clergy— Their ignoranoe— Early faoilitiea for a Beformation in Scotland— Patrick
Hamilton, the first Scottiah Befoimer — Hia martyrdom — Mariyrdom of Oeorge Wiahart — Account of John
Knoi — He comnwDces hia publio career at St. Andrews — Hia banishment— ^His return to Scotland — 'Ihe
question of religiooa reform brought before the Scottiah parliament — The Confeeuon of Faith establiahed
-The Firet Book of Disciplins saheoribed by the privy council- Summaiy of its prinoiplea^Offioe-bearers
of the church — Different ordora of church eoorts — Rulee of church discipline— Their urgent neoeesity — Pecn-
liarities of the Scottish Reformation— Kooi'a plans of reform opposed by the Scottish nobles— Pemicioos
•Otats of their opposition— The order of biihopa oontinued in Scotland- Setfiah purposes of the court in
continuing them--James VI. attempts to rule Uie church through the bishops— His arbitrary praceedings to
» the church.

OT only the history of the chonges
that took place during this period
in the constitution of the National
church, but also, to Home extent, of
the new opinions, the controveraiea,
and the peraecutioDS out of which
by which they were m^compauied,

has necessarily been given in the preceding chap-
ters. The task that remains to ita here is little
more than to fill up the outline already drawn.

Throughout the reign of Henry VII., howeTsr,
and the first half of that of his son and sacceaaor
—that ia to say, for rather more than n third of
the present period— the ancient Boman faith was

»Google

HISTORY OF RELIGION.

201

■till both the 4dl but uDiverBal belief of the people,
and the yet onmodified religion of the l&w. As
oft«D hAppeus with inetilutioDB in the last stage
of their existence, the power and glory of the
Qiurch of Rome, in England, seemed to blaze
out afroBh immediatelj before its downfall. It
is enoQgh to remark that this was the age of
Wolsey, the most gorgeous and ptiisaant prelate
that had arisen since Becket. All the highest
a.nd most influential offices of the elate wera still,
for the most part, in the hands of churchmen,
who, while they monopolized, of course, the man-
agement of ecclesiastical affairs, were generally
both the ministen of the crown at home, and its
ombnaaadora and most trusted agents abroad.
This preference, which they had formerly de-
manded as their right, was now accorded t« them
on the more reasonable ground of tlieir superior
qualifications, a ground which the ablest and
wisest kings— those from whom they would have
experienced the moat determined resistance to
their pretensions of a more ab9olut« kind— were
the r^iest to admit. Thus, the politic, circum-
spect, and acquisitive character of Heury VII.
made him a favourer both of tlie church and of
religion, without being either really religions or
■upersdtious. Thia great king was a distin-
gnidied upholder of the authority of the laws in
ordinary case*. Among his other legal improve-
ments, Henry attempted at one time " ta pare a
little," as Bacon expresees it, " the privilege of
clergy, ordaining that clerks convict should be
burned in the hand, both because they might
taste of some corporal punishment, and that they
might carry a brand of infamy.* But all his
known favour for, and patronage of the church, <
did not prevent this innovation from l>eing de- i
nounced as a daring infringement of the rights
of the ecclesiastical order. The very circum-
stances of the time tiiat in reali^ and in their
ultimate remit tended to bring down the ancient
church, had the effect for the present of raising
it to greater authority anil seeming honour. The
unaccustomed murronra of irreverence and oppo-
sition with which it was assailed afforded a pre-
text for BufTering it to exercioe its recognized
rights with a high hand, and even for endowing
it with some new powers : — the laws against her-
esy, for instance, were now stretched to a degree
of severity never before known, and the church
added to its ancient assumptions that of holding
men's lives in its hands, and actually putting to
death those of whose opinions it rJisapprOTed.
These fires of martyrdom were more easily lighted
Uian quenched.

It was in 1494, the ninth year of Henry VII.,
that the firat English feniiile martyr suffered.
This was a widow named Joan iSoughton, a
woman of above eighty years of age. "She was,"

aiiys Fox, "a disciple of Wyckliffc, whom she ac-
counted for a saint, and held so fast and firmly
eight of his ten opinions, that all the doctors of
London could not turn her from one of them."
She waa burned in Smithfield on the 28th of
April.' Mre. Boughton waa mother to the I^dy
Young, who waa also suspected of holding the
same opiniona, and who afterwards suffered the
same death. In the course of the next two or
three years a few old men and priesta went with
like heroiiim to the stake ; but in general the per-
sona chai^ied with heresy at thia time, when there
was OS yet little general excitement to animate
and sustain them, shrunk from that dreadful
death on a mere view of it, and purchased, 1^ a
recantation, the privilege of satisfying the taw
by an exposure to the fagots without the fire.
The venerable historian of our martyrs has some
curious notices of the fashion in which thia cere-
mony was performed.' Ou other occasions, how-
ever, the commuted punishment was not entirely
formal. In lfi06, at the same time tiiat William
Tylaworth wss burned in Amersham- his only
daughter i>eing compelled to set fire to him with
her own hands — thia daughter, with her husband,
and, according to one accoimt, more than sixty
persons besides, all bore fagots, and were after-
wards not only sent from town to town over tlie
county of Buckingham to do penance with certain
badges affixed to them, but were several of them
burned in the cheek, and otherwise severely
treated. "Divers of them," says Fox, "were en-
joined to bear and wear fagots at Lincoln the
space of seven years, some st one time, some at
another." '

Among others who suffered iu thte reign wss
one lAurence Gheat, " who was burned iu Salis-
bury for the mnttei- of the sacroment. He was
of a comely an<l tall personage, and otherwise, oh
ppeareth, not unfriended, for the which the
bishop and the close (that is, tiie csnona), were
the more toath to bum him, but kept him Iu pri-
son the space of two years. This Laurence had a
wife and seven children."*

Some notion of the peculiar opiniona which
were commonly held bj the English heretica of
this (^ may be gathered from the charges agfunst
some of those apprehended and examined by
John Arundel, Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry,
from 1496 to 1002, as recorded in the registers of
that diocese. They were for the most part the
same with the leading doctrines soon after pro-
claimed by Luther and the other Protestant Re-
formere, embracing a denial of the merit of good
works, of the warrantableness of the worship of
images, of the efficacy 9f penance and pilgrimage,
of the duty of praying to the saints or the Virjriu,

,v Google

202

HISTORY OF ENOTiAND.

[Relic 10:1.

of tbe claims nf tlie pope as auccesaor of St Peter,
(if purg&loiy, and of the tnuisfonnaLioii of the
breftd and wine in the sacrament. In some cases,
honevei', we find, as miglit be expected, the cou-
temjit for tbe old belief breaking out with a curi-
ous acerbity or irreverence of expression in the
enuuciation of the new. There were of course
varieties of faith, or want of faith, among tbe
dissenters from tlie church; some weiit farther
thnu others ; and some seem to have stopped at
tlie rejection of image- worship, without advanc-
ing so f fir tin to question tlie worshipping of the

The intemid history of the established church !
in the period immediately preceding the downfall
of the ancient religion ia marked by few events.
The successive Archbishops of Canterbury during
the reign of Henry VII. were, Cardinal Bourchler,
whose long primacy of thirty-two years termin-
ated in 148<> ; John Morton, the sxitive and useful
friend of Henry before he came to the crown, who
was also invested with a cardinal's hat, and who
snrvived till 1502 ; Henry Deane, who was ai-ch-
Irishop only for a few months ; and, lastly,
William Warhsni, whose translation from Lon-
don appears not to have taken place till towards
the close of the year 1504, more than two years
after the death of Deane.' The admonitory
murmur of the coming storm of reformation now
made itself heard, among other ways, in the
louder popuIoT outcry that arose against the dis-
solute lives of many of the clergy ; and the church
authorities were led to make some efforts both
tn put down the outcry and to correct the evil.
At a aynwl or counril of the province of Canter-
bury, held in St. Taul's, in February, 1487, com-
plaints having been made that the preachers of
the order of St. John of Jerusalem were accus-
tomed, in their sermons at Paul's Cross, to in-
veigh against their secular brethren in the hear-
ing of the luty — who, it was affirmed, all bated
the clergy, and delighted to bear their vices ei-
posed — the prior of St, John was, on the one
hand, directed to prevent this great abuse for the
future, and, on the other, a severe reprimand
was administered to certain of the London clergy,
who were accused of not only spending their whole
time in taverns and alehouses, but eveu imitating
the laity in their dress, and allowing their hair
to grow long, so as to conceal their tonsure. The
censure of the convocation was followed by a pas-
toral letter of the primate, in which the clergy
were solemnly charged not to wear liripoops, or
hoo<]s, of silk, nor gowns open in front, nor em-
broidered girdles, Tior daggem, and to keep their
hair always ro short that everybwly might see
tlieir ears.' A few wonln were addod in rpMim-

I KlehoTu. SynlpiU nf Frtngt. ]/. H30,

mendation of residence ; but tbe burden of the
exhortation was spent upon these matters of mera
show and profession. Considerable alarm, how-
ever, was also excited at this time in the heada
of the church by either the actual increase of im-
morality among the
~ cleiSyi or the sharper

eyea and more earnest
inqnisition with which
the people now began
to look into what had
long existed. Tlie
monks, or regular cler-
gy, were to the fall aa
much as their secular
brethren, the parisb
priests, the objects of
this popular outcry.
A bull was inued by
Pope Innocent VIIL
in 1490, in which, after
setting forth — appar-
ently without any doubt
PBirar WEARiso Unipoop *sb , .T , ,, ., . ,
EnBRoiDERED Ginou:.* Of its tmtb — the infor-
mation he had receiv-
ed respecting tbe reprobate lives led by all the
English monastic orders, he directed Archbbhop
Morton to admonish the heads of all the con-
vents in his province to reform themselves and
those under them, and gave him authority, if
his admonitions were neglected, to proceed to
more deci<led measures. In consequence of tbe
Papal edict Morton appears to have sent letters
to the superiors of all the religious houses in bis
province, of which one that has been preserved,
addressed t^ the abbot of St. Alban's, describes
the monks of that abbey as noUirionaly guilty,
not only of libertinism in all its forms, but of
almost every other kind of enormity.*

There ia no reason to suppose that either Papal
or episcopal admonitions produced any amend-
ment of this state of things during the reign of
Henry VII. Tbe date of the accession of Henry
Till, was marked in the history of the churvh
by the termination of a fierce controversy, which
had long raged between two great bodies of
ecclesiastics on a very dehcate point of doctrine.
The Franciscans, or Oray Friars, maintained that
tbe Virgin Mary hod been conceived and bom
wholly without original sin; their rivals, the
Dominicans, or Black Friars, on the contrary,
held that she had been conceived in the same
manner with every other child of Adam, although

' Ttia hood uid Utipoop (Iha long tnil or tlpp«t of thii hood
wu wois bj Uh IdtT of both mat u mil u hj tfao eitegj.
Tha abina flgon. (Wna tbi Etojll MSB. M. R 4, npRHnti Uia

»Google

A.D. 1485—1603.]

IIISTOEY OF HEUGION.

203

they adnutted that nliile stiU iu her motlier's
womb flhe hod been sanctified and cleauaed from
»il tiriginal ain, in the same m&imer as, they said,
Joba the Baptist and certain other jirivil^ed
persons had beeo. "This frivolous question,"
Bays old Fox, "kindling and gendering betwixt
these two sects of friara, binst out in Huch a Same
of parts and aides taking, that it occupied the
beads and wits, schools and universities, almost
throngh the whole church, some holding one part
with Scotos, some the other part with Thomas
AqaiiiaB." But besides these saindaloiis rival-
lies and quarrels among themselves, the clergy
were ' imprtideDt or unfortunate enough about
this time to get involved in some other contests,
both -with the civil authorities and with public
opinion and the. spirit of the age, out of which
they did not come without still further damage
to their reputations and their interests. Ever
since the abrogation of the Constitutions of Cla-
rendon in the latter part of the reign of Henry II.,
the old derical claim of immunity from the juris-
diction of the civil coorta had been considered as
settled in fovour of ecclesiastical persons. But
this was deservedly the subject of great and
universal complaint ; " for," as Burnet remarks,
" it was ordinary for penona, after the greatest
crimes, to get into orders; and then not only
what was past must be forgiven them, but they
were not to be questioned for any crime after
holy orden (pven till Ibey were first degraded ;
and, till that was done, they were the bishop's
prisoners." In fact, the difficulties which were
thus interpoasd in the way of the conviction and
puuiaiiment of ecclesiastical persons were such
as to enable them, to a great extent, to commit
crimn of all sorts, without incurring the risk of
any penalty at all adequate to the offenoe. In
1467, the fourth year of Henry YIL, a statute
had been passed enacting that, " whereas upon
trust of the privilege of the church, divers per-
sons lettered have been the more bold to commit
murder, rape, robbery, tiieft, and all other mis-
chievooa deeds, because they have been continu-
ally admitted to the benefit of the clergy as oft
as they did offend in any of the premises" — a
startling enough exposition, it must be admitted,
of the state to which things bad been brought —
for the fntnre, to persons not actually in holy
orders, clergy should be allowed but once, and
those convicted of mnrder shoald be marked
with an M upon the brawn of the left thumb,
and those convicted of any other felony with a
T. In this atate the law remained till the fourth
year of Henry VIII., when a bill was brought
into parliament, carr3nttg out the principle of
late act so far as to ordain that the benefit of
clergy should be wholly denied to all murderen
and robber*. " Bnt though this aeemed a very

jiiHt law," aaya Burnet, "yet, to make it jiaaii
tlirough the House of Lords, they added two
jiroviaions to it; the one, for excepting all such
as were witliin the lioly orders of bishop, priest,
or deacon ; the other, that the act should only
lie in force till the next parliament. With these
provisoes it was unauimouBly assented to by the
lords on the &8tl] of January, 1613, and being
agreed to by the commons, the royal aasent made
it a law ; pursuant to which many murderers and
felons were denied their clergy, and the law
passed on them, to the great satisfaction of the
whole nation." Neither the general popularity
of the new statute^ however, nor its manifest
equity, sufficed to mitigate the aversion with
which it was regarded by the clergy ; they saw
in it only an encroachment upon the privileges
of holy church, to which no consideration should
induce them to sabmit It was an injury and
an insidt neither to be endured nor forgiven.
Accordingly, not satisfied with pi-eventing the
renewal of the act at the expiration of the short
term to which their influence had caused it in
the first instance to be limited, they set them-
selves to fix such a mark of reprobation upon it
as should, they hoped, put down any similar at-
tempt for ever after.

In the year IG14, a citizen of London, named
Bichard Hunne, a merchant tailor, fell into a
dispute with the parson of a country parish in
Middlesex, about a gift of a beaiing-sheet, which
the clergyman demanded as a mortnary, in con-
sequence of an infant child of Hunne's having
died in his parish, where it had been sent to be
nursed. Hunne made some objection to the le-
gality of the demand ; but it is probable that he
was seoretiy inclined to the new doctrines, and
that this was the true cause of his refusal. Being
sued in the spiritual court by the parson, he took
out a writ of premunire against his pursuer for
bringing the king's subjects before a foreign ju-
risdiction, the spiritual court sitting under the
authority of the pope's legate. This daring pro-
cedure of the London citizen threw the clei^
into a fury, and, as the moHt eff'ectnol way of
crushing him, reconrse was had to the terrible
charge of heresy, upon which Huune was appre-
hended and consigned to close imprisonment iu
the LoUards' Tower at St. Paul's. After a short
time, being brought before Fitzjames, Bishop of
Londou, he was there interrog.ited respecting
certain articles alleged against him, which im-
pnted to him, in substance, that he had denied
the obligaUon of paying tithes — that he had read
and spoken generally against bishops and priests,
and in favour of heretics — and, lastly, that he
had "in his keeping diven English books pro-
hibited and dunned by the law, as the Apoca-
lypse in English, Epistles and Qospels in Euglish.

,v Google

204

HISTORY UF ENGLAND.

(Reuoion.

Wyckliffu's duonuble n-orka, and other buuke
contuuiug iti6Dite errora, in the wliiuh he hath
been loog timu sccuatomed to i-ead, teach, aud
etudf daily."' It appears that Hunne was fright-
ened into a qualified admiasioa of the truth
of thefe charges; he confessed that although he
had not said exactly what whs asserted, yet iie
had " wnadTisedly spoken words somewhat sound-
ing to the same ; for the which," he added, " I
am sorry, and ask God mercy, and nubmit me
nnUi my lord's charitable and favourable correc-
tion." He ought upon this, aecording to the
usual course, to have been enjoined penance, and
set at liberty ; but, as be still persisted in hia
miit against the parson, he wus the same day
sent back to his prison, where, two days after,
namely, on the 4th of December, lie was found
euspendad fi'Om a hook in the ceiling, and dead.
The persons in charge of the prison gave out that
he had hanged himself i but a coroner's inquest
earns t« a different nincluaion. According to the
account in Buruet, the jury " did acquit the dead
body, and laid the murder on the officera that
had the charge of that priiian ; and, by other
proo^ they found the bixhop's aumner* and the
bell-ringer guilty of it. The escited feelings and
strong prejudiceu of the coroner's jury had per-
haps as much shoi'e as the weight of circumstan-
tial evidence in winning them to the belief of
this not very probable story. While the inquest
was Btili going ou, the Bishop of Loudon aud his
clergy b^gan a new process of heresy againU
Hunnit dead body. The new charges alleged
against Hunne were comprised in thirteen arti-
cles, the matter of which was collected from the
prologue or preface by Wyckliffe to the Eoglisli
Bible that had been found in his possession. He,
or rather hb dead body, was condemned of heresy
by sentence of the Bisliop of London, assisted by
the Bishops of Durham and Uncolu, aud by
many doctors of divinity aud the canon law ;
and the senseleas carcass was actually, on the
EOth of December, committed to the flames in
Smibbfield. This piece of barbarity, however,
shocked instead of overawing the public senti-
ment. The affair DOW come before the )iarlinment,
Hud a hill, which had originated in the commons,
was passed, restoring to Eunne's children the
goods of their father, which hail been forfeited
by hie conviction. This, however, did not put
an end to the contest. When the Bishop of Lou-
don's chancellor and suniner had been charged,
on tlie finding of the corouer's jury, as both prin-
cipals in the murder, the convocation, in the hope
probably of drawing off attention to auotlier port
of the cose, called before them Dr. Standish, wlio

hud asaerted the claims of the civil |>ower in a
debate before the king, aud put him upon his
defence for what he had said ou that occasion ;
aud an appeal was made to the conscience of
Henry, that he would not interpose to ahield the
delinquent fi'Om jnetice, as he regarded his coro-
nation oath, aud would himself escape the cen-
sures of holy cliurch. Henry's headstrong and
despotic character had scarcely yet begun to de-
velope itself ; his pride as a true son of the church
had i«ceived no check from coming into collision
with any of his other selfish and overmastering
passions^ when the convocation, therefore, as-
sailed him m thia manner on the one hand, and
the parliament, on the other, likewise addressed
him " to maintain the temporal jurisdictiou, oc-
cordiug to his coronation oath, and to protect
Stondisb from the malice of his enemies," he was
thrown iutj great perplexity. So, to free his
conscience, he commanded all the judges, and the
members both of his temporal and his apiritual
councils, togetlier with certain persons from both
houses of parliament, to meet at Blackfriars, aud
to bear the matter argued. Thia was done ac-
cordingly ; and the discusuon was terminated by
the unanimous declaration of the judges, that all
those of the convocation who had awarded the
citation against Standish bad mode themselves
liable to a premunire. Soon after, the whok>
body of the lords spiritual and temporal, with all
the judges and the king's council, and many
members also of the Honae of Commons, having
been called before the king at Baynard's Castle,
Cardinal Wolsey, in the name of the clergy, hum-
bly begt^ed that the matter should be referred to
the fiual decision of the pope at Borne. To this
request, however, Henry made auawer, with
much spirit, " By the penuiaaiou and orditiauce
of God, we are Kiug of Eugland ; and the Kings
of England in times past had never any superior
but God only. Therefore, know you well that
we will maiutaiu the right of our crown, and of
our temporal jurisdictjon, as well in thia as in all
other points, in as ample a mouner as any of our
progenitors have done before our time." The
renewed solicitations of the Archbishop of Can-
terbury, that the matter might at least be respited
till a communication could be had with the court
of Rome, hod no effect in moving the king fi-om
his resolution; and Dr. Horsey, the Bishop of
Xiondon's chancellor, against whom warrauta were
out, on the finding of the inquest, for his trial as
one of the murderers of Hunoe, seemed to be left
to his fate. At this point, however, the clergy,
or perhaps both parties, saw fit to make advances
towards an a.*commodatiou: it was agreed that
Horsey should surrender to take liis trial ; that
he should not stand upon hia benefit of clergy,
but plead not guilty: and that, satisfied with

,v Google

liUfl—iuoa.]

BISTOBY OF REUGION.

205

tbia coaeeBsioD, the attorney-general bIiouIiI ad-
mit the plen, and the prisoner be discharged.
This form wan goue through, and Horsey im-
mediatelj left London, vhero, it ia said, be never
sgaiQ showed hia face. Dr. Stondish, however,
waa alao, by the king's command, dismiaaed fi*om
hia place in the court of convocation, bo that the
issue of the busineaa by no meana went altogether
igaioBt the clergy. Sat, besides the augmented
popular odiuni to which they were exposed, from
the atroDg suspicion which was entert^ned that
Bnnn« tuul been murdered, a heavy blow had
been undoubtedly dealt at their favourite pre-
tension of exemption h«m the jurisdiction of the
civil courte in criminal cases.

In the unsettled atata of meu'a miuda, at thia
time, apon the nubject of religion, the port taken
by any king, and especially by a king of Henry's
temper, could not fail to act with powerful effect
either in steadying for a space the tromulous
mass of the popnUr tUoaght and feeling, or in
swaying it in the direction of his own passions
and convictions. Yet the planet that so far
ruled the tides of thia great moral ocean was tor
many yeare undoubtedly influenced in ite own
movements by another more lordly spirit, that
drew it along, perhaps without Buffering it to
feel its bondage, but not on that account with
less [lotent control. For nearly the whole of the
fint half of Henry's reign the real King of Eng-
land was his minister Wolsey, a man whose
greatneea was linked to the ascendency of the
ancient church. So long aa Wolsey's favour
laateJ, his royal master was wholly in hia hands.
With one at the head of affulra personally in-
terested to so deep an extent in its support, the
chuTiih waa secure from any attack — from any
abridgment of its wealth or power, by the king
or ths government. Yet even the greatness of
Wolaey, while it thus threw a t«mporary protec-
tion over the chnrcb, perhape contributed also to
hasten ita downfall. The ruin of this magnifi-
cent ecclesiastic himself was in ))art brought
about by the arrogance and rapacity to which he
gave way in the giddiness of his towering for-
tunes. But if by his oppressive proceedings he
made all men his enemies, and when thesupport
of the royal favour was withdrawn, left himself
without either any foundation on which to stand,
or Mendly arm to break hia fall, we may be
satisfied that so odioua an exhibition of priestly
insolence could not but also have its effect in
widening the general alienation from the whole
order to which he belonged.

The Beformation waa very far from being
cooipieted under Henry VIII.— indeed, the Eng-
tiih church, as he left it, wns scarcely reformed
at all except in regard to a few points of ita
temal or political cmstitution — bat still the work,

bluing merely begun, was already more than
half finished. Henry, in having set as it wei«
the wheel of change in motion, is justly esteemed
the true author of the whole mighty result- of
that part of it which he reaiated or did not con-
template at all, aa well aa of that which he uiged

and actually saw realized. The Beformation

England was bis doing, infinitely more than
that of any other person who in any way took
part in the work— of his succesaora Edward aud
Elizabeth, for inatance, who built upon the ground
that be hod cleared and the foundation that he
had laid — or even of such men aa Wyckliffe, who
helped, by their preachings and writings, to draw
men away from the old church; or as Craumer
and hia follow-labonrerB, who, by the like exer-
tions, endeavoured to bring them over and at-
tach them to the new. Yet in all that Henry
did, and all that he would not do, iu the mutter
of religion, throughout his reign, it is curious to
observe how he was acted upon by the changing
circumstances of his own personal poaitiou — how
the despot, so potent alike to destroy, and, for
the moment at least, to preserve from desbruc-
Umi, waa driven along the whole of his furious
and contradictory course by the pettiest of pri-
vate interests, vanities, and passions. The his-
tory of the English Beformation is the history of
this king's fits of temper; of his likings and dii)-
likiuga ; of the flatteries addressed to him from
one quarter, and the provocations he received
from another; of bis pecuniary difficulties; of hia
amours, jealouaiea, and suspicions ; of the swel-
lings and ebbings of his pedantry and self-con-
ceit; of the very fluctuations of hia Iradily dis-
tempers aud sores.

Eight years after Henry came to the throne
the first movement was mode, unconsciously, by
Martin Luther, in that great rebellion against
the ancient church which has made his name
immortal It does not appear that Luther, at the
commencement of hia career, had any acquain-
tance with the writings of Wyckliffe, Hnsa, Je-
rome of Prague, and the other remarkable men by
whom the Boman church had been assailed in
the two preoeiling centuries; indeed, at this stage
he would have felt little sympathy with the
greater part of those writings, for he was as yet a
good Catholic, and had not for a moment doubted
either the authority of the pope or any of the
commonly received doctrines of the church. He
was a believer in the real presence, in purgatory,
in the efficacy of penances, of pilgrimages, of
pniyeis for the dead, of prayers to tiie sunts, in
the warrautableness of the adoration of the Vir-
gin, of the crucifix, and of images, in the virtue
of relics, in the authority of tradition, iu the duty
of anricidar confession, and in all those other
dogmas of tiie ancient faith which at a later

»Google

206

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[RCLIOIOR.

period be rejected and denounced. The onewti-
cle of tha common belief which startled him, and
against which he isised his voice in the first in-
Btuice, was the doctrine of indulgencea; and even
oa to this matter he cootinued for some jears to
cling to the notion that his dispute wtw merelj
with certain individuals, and hj no means either
mith the pope or the general bodj of the church.
These indulgences professed to convey, to who-
soever purchased them, a release from the pains
of pui^toiy; and the very denial of their effl- '
cacy implied a belief in the eiiatence of purga-
tory. Luther not disputing the reality of purga-
t«ry, denied that it was competent for men, by
the mere payment of a sum of money, to obtain
a quittance from any part of the puniahment to
which they had made themselves liable by their
sins. He had become convinced, from his stady
of the Scriptures, that their fundamental do[>-
trine was, that the remission of sin cmdd only
be obtained by justification through faith in the
sacrifioe of Christ; and upon this one great prin-
ciple he took his stand. When Tetzal and his
associates, in their eagerness to dispose of their
wares, cried tbem up even in terms going far be-
yond the profexnons of the document itself, Lu-
ther first exposed thi delusion they were prac-
tising upon the people from the pulpit ; and then
published ninety-five theses or propositions di-
rected against the whole doctrine of indulgences,
which he engaged to maintain at a public dispu-
tation, on a dny which he named, against any
one who should oppose them by writing or word
of mouth. The disputation did not take place:
(M the appointed day no defender of the de-
nounced indulgences appeared ; but Luther's
ninety-five propositions were read with avidity
over all Germany; and from that hour the spirit
' was awakened which never again alumhered or
slept till it hod set up and established a new
and mighty rival empire of opinion. Fur some
time the controveny between the German monk
and hia opponents attracted no notice at the Va-
tican; at length, however, in July, ICIS, Leo
summoned him to appear at Borne within sixty
days. His holineaa was afterwards prevailed
upon to appoint the hearing of the case to take
place in Germany; and Luther accordingly ap-
peared at Augsburg before the Papal legateCardi-
nal Cajetano, who began with an attempt to carry
his point by dint of logic, but, finding that of no
avail, soon had recourse to a more summarymc-
thod of procedure, and commanded Luther at once
to recant bis heresy simply out of deference to
the Apostolic Bee. The intrepid monk refused
compliance; but even yet he made no movement
towards tlirowing off the authority of the pope.
Apprehensive of being arrested, by the advice of
hia friends he withdrew secretly from Augsburg;

but, before be went, Ike drew up an appeal from
the pope, imperfectly informed oa he then was,
to the pope, after he should have been fully in-
struotwl in the merits of the tAuse. It was im-
possible, however, that, having advanced so far,
he should stop long at this point. Protected by
the Elector Frederick, he soon after, abandoning
the expectation of a fair hearing from the pope,
made hia appeal to a general council. It was
not long before he followed up this declaistion
by openly questioning even the anpremaey as-
sumed by the pope over other bishops — in other
words, ail the peculiar pretensions of the Soman
See. This was in 1619. On the 15th of June of
the following year, was issued the memorable
Papal bull, declaring forty-one propositions ex-
tracted ont of Luther's works to be heretical and
scandalous; forbidding all persons to read his
writings upon pain of exeommnnication ; oom-
raanding those who bad any of them in their
posBCMion to oommit them to tha flames ; and
]>iononncing a^nst their author the senteuoe of
exoommnnication, with all its terrible penalties,
spiritual and temporal, unless he should publicly
recant hia errors and bum his books within the
space of sixty days. This at once placed the
followers of Hhe German Beformer and the adhe-
rents of the ancient church in hostile array.
Luther, now fairly cast forth from the Roman
communion, kept uo measures with the power
which he opposed; in reply to the pope's bull of
excommunication, he boldly declared that perso-
nage to be Antichrist, and called upon all Chris-
tiaii princes to east off his tyrannical and de-
grading yoke. When bis own books were burned
at Rome, he retaliated by burning the volumes
of the canon law at Wittenberg, in pres«ice of
the professors and students of the university and
a throng of other spectators. One of the first acts
of the new emperor, Charles V,, was to appoint
a diet of the empire to meet at Worms on the
Gth of January, 1081, expressly for the purpose
of putting down the new opinions. On the sum-
mons of this assembly Luther jnvsented hinuelf
before them to defend bis doctrines; the diet,
however, declared bim to be deprived, as an ex-
commnnicated heretic, of all his rights as a sub-
ject of the empire, and forbade any prince to
harlxinr or protect him after the expiration of the
term specified in the safe-conduct upon which he
Ikad come up. From the dangers to which be
was exposed by this edict he was saved by tlie
iul«rpos{tion of bis friend the Elector Frederick,
who caused him to be intercepted, on bis way
home, and carried off to the fortress of Wartbnrg,
in which he remidned concealed for niue months.
But the winged words and opinions thnt had
already gone forth from bis lips and his pen
were not to be recalled or chained down; tiieir

,v Google

A.D. 1485-1603.]

HISTORY OF RELIGION.

207

infliction spread throughout Gemumy aud other
conntriea with the common Ait that men breathed;
Dor, though hidden alike from hia follovera and
Ilia oppanenta, was Luther's animating voice
Hven how unheard in the great Imttle lie had
■w»keiMd: by the aid of the preas, to which he
from time to time resorted while thus with-
drawn from other conveTse with hia fellow-men,
h« Btill made the fervid eloquence of his reason-
ings and his denonncemente ring throughout
C'briBt«iidoiii.

It was at this crisis that Henry Till, first
adventured to break a lance in the contest in
which he was ere long to act a part of which he
now little dreamed. Throughout the earlier part
nt hia reign, the King of England, as we have
■een, vas the most zealous am) devoted son of
the church. During three years his devotion to
the Holy See was not only secured by the ascend-
ency of Wolsey, but was, beaides, fed and in-
damed by other infiuences. His pedantry and
vanity were engaged in the aame canae with hia
deference for hia great minister and favourite.
The Icing'e work was printed in a quarto volulne
at Loudon, with the title, Attertio Septem Sacror
iumtorwn adveritu Jfartifn Luther, &c. (Defence
of the Seven Sacrameuta agunat Martin Luther)
Henry was amazingly delighted with the title
Defender of the Faith, with which the pope re-
warded his learned labours— " affecting it," says
Burnet, " always beyond all hia other titles,
though Bevei«i of the former Kings of England
had carried the aame title, as Spelman informs
us."' The whole matter, according to Stiype,
was contrived by Wolaey, to engage Henry Uie
more firmly against Lutberanism, and in the
putting down of the heretical books which were
now brought over from the Continent in great
numbers, and dispersed through the kingdom.
Henry's book waa immediately answered by Lu-
ther, and that in a faahion calculated to cure
kings of the ambition of oontroverey. Not only
did the eturdy Reformer throw aaide all deference
for the rank of his royal opponent, but he even
denied him the credit of being the author of the
book of which he was so vain.

But after the lapse of three or four yeara more,
the symptoms of a great change began to appear.
In 1527 Heniy fell in love with Anne Boleyn,
began to feel scmplea about the lawfulness of his
marriage with Catherine, who had now been
eighteen years his wife, and urged by the sud
scruples and hia paaaion together, proceeded to

'" Or ■ iliicnlir (elicit; lu the vordlng of tha t
m nun msnt nrrilu-, " It nitad HeiiT7 miiull;
boiDol PipM* or PntotiDti ; it nlud taeli of
Vur ud EliBbirtli ; It Bttod tha mutrr Ourla ud Uw pn-
fligUaCbulHi thaltomlib JniMuid the CnlilDld WUUui ;

nnil II \m[ ■! il fiiiHiilj iiltrlnJ "n thr — *• '■—I rf Mil-

chnieb Arm."— Wilpoli, Katol and SMi At^ht :

take etepe for getting rid of Catherine. For two
years be plied every effort to get the court of
Borne to go along with him in this scheme,
threatening, that if he were not allowed to have
his way in the matter of the divorce, England
should no longer remain a Popish country. At
length, in the summer of 1629, the accident of
Cianmer having auggested the bold expedient of
having the marriage diaaolved without asking
leave of tha pope, at once transferred the affec-
tions and confidence of the king from Wolsey to
this new adviser, causing the ruin of the one and
the elevation of the other. In the following 3'ear
he put forth a [otKlamation prohibiting the in-
troduction into, or the publication in, the king-
dom of any buU from Rome, nnder piun of
incurring hia indignation, in addition to impri-
aonment and the other puniahmenta awarded to
the offence by the ancient statutes. The eetab-
lished clergy now found the crown, hitherto their
steady friend and protector, changed into a hos-
tile power. From this point the couiae of Henry's
ecclesiaatical innovations went on at an accelei^
ated rate. Anne Boleyn, notoriously disposed in
favour of the opinions of the innovators in reli-
gion— already distioguiahed by the name of Fro-
teatanta, which was first given to them on their
protest against the proceedings of the diet of
Spires, 19th April, 1B30— waa now Queen of
England ; Cranmer, the head of the English
Liitherans, was Archbishop of Canterbury; ho
and Cromwell, another decided favourer of the
new doctrines, were the kinj^s chief ministers.
In this, the height of the new tide that had set
in upon the stream of affairs, all that remained
of the authority of Rome waa soon swept away.

To Cromwell especially belongs the credit of
having been Henry's chief instrument ill hie next
undertaking as an eccleaiastieal reformer;— his
attack upon the monastic institutiona. Acconl-
ing to Strype.it waa"the refractoriness of those
of the Benedictine order to the king's proceed-
ings" that "made him think it coDTenient to look
a little niore narrowly into their behaviour, and
to animadvert upon their irregularities, of which
there were reports enongh; and this being re-
solved upon, he thought good to make one work
of it, and to have all convents and religions bo-
cieUes besides visited also." The visitation be-
gan hi October, lS3a,and comprehended not only
all monasteries, bnt all collef^ate chnrches, hos-
pitals, and cathedrals, and also the houses of the
order of the Knights of Jerusalem. The object
professed, of oonne, was the reformation of the
lives of tlie monks; but the real motives appear
to have been different. Concurring with the
Bcandela that were abroad as to the relaxed dis-
cipline of the several orders, " thur ae<n«t prac-
tices againat the king," says Burnet, " both in the

,v Google

nisTonv OF England.

[Rn

malUr of hia divorce and mipremacf, made him
more wUling U> examine the truth of these re-
ports." Ami the hiatorian goes on to observe
that, among other motives which inclined the
king to the project, one waa that he wns appre-
benaive of a war with the emparor, and was in
great want of money. The onlj immediate re-
sult of this firat viaitation was the volnntaiy but-
render of six or aeven of the smaller and poorer
houaea to the crown, on the groond, aa waa af-
firmed, of their rerenuea being ao encumbered
that they mnat otherwise very speedily have
come to ruin, both in their Bpiritual and temporal
concerns. Henry's intentions maj be best judged
from his deeds. Within a few months an act
waa passed hy parliament suppressing all religi-
ous houses whose annual revenue was leea than
.£200, and giving their lands, rents, cattle, plate,
jewels, and all other property, to the king. By
this act 376 mozkasteries were at once swept
away, and Henry was enriched by lands com-
puted to be worth .£32,000 per siiQum, and other
Bpoils of the estimated value of £100,000, but in
reality amounting to these sums several times

In the following year, 1S3T, a new visitation
was begun of all the renuuuing monaateries, with
the deugn of auhjecting aa many of them as pos-
sible to the same fate of confiscation. Thia waa
BO clearly perceived that, in a great many in-
stances, voluntary surreadera were now made by
the abbots, and other heads of houaes. "There
were great complaints," Burnet relates, " made of
the visitors, aa if they had practised with the
abbots and priors to make these surrenders, and
that they had conspired with Uiem to cheat the
king, and had privately embezzled most of the
plate and furniture. The abbess of Chepstow
complained, in particular, of Dr. London, one of
the visitors, that he had been corrupting her
uuns; and generally it was cried out that under-
hand and ill practices were used. Therefore, to
quiet these reports, and to give some colour to
justify what they ware about, all the foul stories
that could be found out were published to de-
fame these houses." In most cases, it would seem,
where the house was not recommended for total
suppression, a fine or anuual tax was laid upon
it; and even where it was not pretended that the
inmatea were chargeable with any irr^ularitii
the real object of the vi^sitation, the extraction of
money, waa equally kept in view. Thus we find
the nuns of the convent of Stjxwold, agninat
whom nothing appears to have been alleged, fined
to the amount of SOO marks, besides an annual
pension or tax of £34. But beaidea the fines i:
posed in the name of the king, there is every
reason to believe that another customary mode
uf compontion was by bribing the visitors or

their master, Cromwell. The viutation of (he
monasteriea, which waa, in effect, a forcing of
them one after another to snrrender, waa con-
tinued for some years, until the greater number
of them had been thns given up into the kin^a
hands; and then, in 1039, the parliament passed
ui act, confirming to the king and hia successora
'or ever both all those that had thus already re-
ligned, and all that should be suppressed, for-
feited, or given up thereafter. The effect of this
act waa immediately to put down all the still
existing monasteries in England. Altogether, by
its operation, the possessions of 644 convents, 00
colleges, £174 chantries and free chapels, and 110

ipitals, were annexed to the crown. The clear
yearly value of all the houses thus suppressed waa,
at the rents actually paid, only about ;Cl3O,O0Oi
but Burnet affirms that their re^ value was at
Im timu as much. Besides thia, plats,
jewels, and goods of all kinds to a vast amount,
must have been obtuned from this wholesale
confiscation. To enlist the popular feeling in
favour of the measure, it waa given out that its
effect would be to relieve the king's subjects for
the future from all services and taxes; and that,
in place of the abbots, monks, friars, and nuns,
there would be nused and maintained 40 new
earls, 60 barons, 3000 knights, and 40,000 sol>
diers, commanded by skilful officer, out of tlio
revenues of the abolished establishments. It was
also promised both that there shonld be a better
provision made for the poor, and that preachers
should be handsomely paid to go about every-
where, and preach the true religion. "But," says
atrype, " nothing of this came to pass," Of the
whole of the immense revenue that accrued to
the crown from the abolition uf the monasteries,
a fraction of about £8000 per annnm only waa
bestowed upon the endovrroent of the rix new
bishoprics of We8tminBt«r, Oxford, Peterborough,
Bristol, Chester, and Glonce«t«r, and the substi-
tution of canons for the disbanded monks in seve-
ral of the old cathedral churches.

Henry may be regarded as having continued
to move, in the main, in a Prot«stant direction
throQghout the period of his three Protestant
marriages with Anne Boteyn, Jane Seymour, and
Anneof Clevea. During this space several minor
reforms were carried into effect, beside* the great
work of the confiscation of the monasteriea.
Among these, one of the most memorable was the
communication to the people, under the royal au-
thority, of the Scriptures in their mother tongue.
Wyckliffe, na was formerly mentioned, had trans-
lated both the Old and the New Testament before
the end of the fifteenth century ; and even long
before liis day the whole Bible, nccor<ling to a
statement of Sir Thomna More, had been, " hv
virtuous and well-learued men, translated into

,v Google

*.D. 14M-160a]

HISTOKY OF KEOOIOK.

the English tongue, and by good aud godly people,
with devotion and sobernew, well and reverently
read." Cranmer also ■Bserts that, when the Saxon
tongue, in which the first vermon was made,
" waned old and ont of common usage," the Scrip-
ture was again tranalated into the newer Ian-
gnage, "whereof," he adds, "yet also many copies
be found." But the first English translation of
any part of the Scriptures that was printed was
the tnuialation of the New Testament, by William
Tyndal (otherwise called Hotchio), assisted by a
friar named Eoy, and others, which appeared in
an octavo volnme at Antwerp, in 1626. The
edition consieted of 1600 copies, nearly all of
wliich appear to have been sent over to England.

IflTJJAM TrKlMI- — Iftv A '

II print ill the ''HnMlogiii."

Here they were purchased and read with won-
derful eagerness by the people, and not the less
eo for the prohibition that was issued by Wolsey,
and published by every biabop in his diocese.
At one time the clergy sought to repress this
zeal for Tyndal's Testament by giving ont that
tliey intended immediately to put forth a trans-
lation of their own; but the project, if it ever
was seriously entertained, was soon thrown aside;
and at length, about the end of May, 1630, a
paper was drawn up by Warham, More, Tunstai,
and other eminent canoniets and divines, which
eveiy incumbent was commanded to read to his
congregation, intimating that, the king having
consulted certain prelates and learned men of both
imivereities as to varions treatiaea on doctrinal
subjects lately set out in the Englbh tongue, they
had agreed in condemning them as contuning
several things that were heretical ; and that, upon
the qnestioD as to the neceaeity or expediency of
a tnmslation of tlie Bible, "they were of opinion
that, though it had been sometimes done, yet it
was not necessary, and that the king did well not
to set it out at that time in the English tongue."
Vol. IL

The course, however, in which all things were
now moving, made it imposaible that what may
almost be called the fundamental principle of
Protestantism — the free circulation of the Scrip-
tures among the people, could be much longer
resisted. The convocation of 1636, accordingly,
at the same time that the parliament passed the
first act for the dissolution of the monasteries,
agreed by a majority, on the motion of Cranmer,
to petitJon the king that he would give orders for
the preparation of an English trau»lation of the
Bible. The project waa at first opposed by a
powerful party at court, and Henry for aome time
hesitated ; but it was represented to him, on the
other side, that nothing would make the pope
and the monks so hateful to the nation, or his
own supremacy so acceptable, as giviog the people
the fi-ee use of the Word of God ; and " these ar-
gnmeutfl," says Burnet, " joined with the power
that the queen had in Ilia afTectiona, were so much
considered by the king that he gave order for
setting about it immediately.* Already, however,
the preceding year, there had been produced
the Continent a complete English translation
of the Bible, by Milea Coverdale. Coverdale'a
Bible, which is conjectured, from the form of the
types, to have been printed at Zurich, waa dedi-
cated to the King of England. It was in folio,
and appears to have been the volume which, in
1636, immediately after the order had been issued
for the preparation of a new tranalation to be set
forth by authority, Cromwell, as the king's vicar-
general and vicegerent in eccleeiaatical matt«rs,
commanded to be procured by every parish, and
chained to a pillar or desk in the choir of the
church, for all to read at their pleasure. This
was done, that the reaolution taken in favour of
laying open the Word of Grod to the people might
not remain inoperative while the new translation
waa in hand. To whom that work was committed,
or bow the persons engaged proceeded in it, Bur-
net says be had not been able to ascertiun ; the
direction was probably left with Cranmer, with
whom the proposal bad originated, and it is be-
lieved that Coverdale waa one of the prindpal
persons employed. When the translation was at
last finished, it waa sent to be printed at Paris,
by Bichard Grafton and Edward Whitchurch ;
but,although the printers had previously obtMned
the French king's license to undertake the work,
their operations were interrupted by the clamours
of the clergy, and they were obliged to withdraw
to London, where the volume was at last finished
in April, 1639. This first authorized English
Bible, which is known by the name of Craomer's
or the Great Bible, is a folio, like Coverdale's,
and the text, in the main, ia little more than a
corrected edition of his. On the completion of
this important task, a copy of the Bible was pre-

133

,v Google

210

HISTORY OF ENOLANP.

[UBuaioK.

seated by Cromwell to the king, who ezpmsed
hia approbfttiou. And granted his warrant royal,
sUowing all hia subjects to read it without con-
trol or hazard.

A set ot injuBctionfl was now iaaued to the
clergy by Cromwell, in hia quality of ecclegiaatical
vicegerent. One of these directed each incumlieut
to provide before a certwn day a copy of the new
Great Bible, and to set up the same in aome con-
renieat place within the church, where the par-
iahioners might most commodiouBly resort to it
and read it ; the charge to be borne one-half by
the parwrn, and the other by the pariahionen.

Dn-a bj 1. W. ArsliH, bum hta ikiteli <m th< ip

Ttut hardly had the fountain of Divine truth been
thus unsealed, when Henry deemed it necea
to check the eagemeaa with which the popular
appetite ruahed to drink of the long-impriaoned
waters. Some cnriona traita of the first excite-
ment produced by the new charter of intellectual
free<lont ore preserved in a royal proclamation
which was set forth in the banning of May,
1039, aud which ia further remarkable aa the
first that was iasosd under the statute giving to
the proclamation! of the king in council the force
of acta of parliament. It ia here alleged that,
while on the one band some persons craftily
sought, by their preachings and teachings,
restore in the realm "the old devotion to 1
usurped power of the Bishop of Borne, the hypo-
crite's religion, saperstition, pilgrimages, idolatry,
and other evil and naughty ceremoniaa and
drraiua, justly aud lawfully abolished and taken

away by anthoi-ity of God's Word," others wreated
the Holy Scriptures so as " to subvert and over-
turn as well the aacramenta of holy church aa the
power and authority of princes aud magistrates,
' in effbct generally aU laws and common jus-
and the good and laudable ordinances and
ceremonies necessary and convenient to be uaed
and continued ; some of them also using the
Scripture permitted to them by the kb^B good-
neaa, in the English tongue, at such times aud
places, and after such faahioua and aorta, as it is
not convenient to be suffered." Both parties, it
is affirmed, were accustomed to dispute respecting
their opinions with eiceaaive heat and arrogance
both in the churches and in alehoiiaea and taverns ;
" one part of them calling the other Papist, and
the other part calling the other heretic* The
use of either of these epithets b thereupon strictly
forbidden, unless the person applying it can jostly
and lawfully prove the truth of hia charge. And
then it is commanded that " no person except
such aa be curates or graduates in any of the
UDiversitJes of Oxford or Cambridge, or such as
be or sliall be admitted to preach by the king's
license, or by hia vicegerent or by any biahop of
the realm, ahall teadi or preach the Bible or New
Testament, nor expound tiw mysteries thereof to
any other ; nor that any person or penons shall
openly read the Bible or New Testament in the
English tongue, in any churches or chapela, or
elsewhere, with any loud or high voice, and espe-
cially daring the time of Divine service, or of
celebrating and saying of maaaes; but virtually
aud devontly to hear their Divine aervicea and
maaaes, and use that time in reading and praying
with peace and stillness, aa good CThristian men
nae to do.' "Notwithatanding," it ia added, "the
king ia still pleased to permit that sach as caa
and will in the English tongue, ahall, and may
quietly and reverently read the Bible and New
'Testament by themaelvea secretly at all timea and
places convenient for their own instruction and
edification." They are warned, however, to be-
ware of their own presumptnona and arrogant
expositions, and to resort humbly to snch aa were
learned in Holy Scripture for their instmctiou as
to all doubtful point*. Most of the stronger and
more restrictive expreaaiona in this proclamation,
it deaea-ves to be noted, were inserted by Henry
himself.' He was soon after this, indeed, pre-
vailed upon to grant letters-patent prohibiting
all persona from printing the Bible in the English
tongue in any manner of volume for five years,
except such as Cromwell ahonld depute and assign.
This permission for any one to possess a copy of
the Bible, and to read it ia honsea or at horns
aa well as in the churches, was a complete en-

m u prtotwl hf Stirp*. with tht k

»Google

*.D. 1486-1603.]

mSTORT OF KELIOION.

franeliiBemeiit of Scripture, and as auch wm felt
bf tha clergy, vho saw in it the downfall of their
CMM as well aa of their own penoiul iuflnenoe.
At thia etage, therefore, a, determined raaiatance
was offered by Bishop Gardiner, who) in a con-
ference before the king, challenged Craiuaer to
ahow anj difference between the anthoritj of the
Scripttine and of the Apostolical Canons, which
fae maintuned were equal to the other writinga
of the apoetlee. But in the debate, tha king
" perceived solid learning, tempered with great
modes^, in what Cranmer said ; and nothing
but Tanitj and affectation in Gardiner'a reason-
inga. So he took him up sharplj, and told him
that GnuuuBT was an old and experienced captain,
and was not to be troabled with fresh men and

eolved, and nothing n

IS done for the pre-

In Maj, I&41, a jear after the fall of Cromwell,
another proclamation wm issued, on occasion of
a new imprenon of the Bible being fiuiahcd, en-
fordng the order fonnerlj made hj that minister,
that a cop; of the book should be lixed and set
np openly in eVsry parish church, which had
been neglected bj " divera and many towns and
paiiahea." A penalty was imposed upon all who
ahonid not comply with the order beftare the
feaat of All-Sainbi next ensuing. Care waa taken
at the same time to reitei&te the admonition that
the people sbonld read the Bibles in the churches
"hnmbly, meekly, reverently, and obediently,"
and that none <rf them " should read the said
Bibles with high and loud voices, or in time of
the celebration of Ibe holy mas^ and other Divine
servicea used in the church;' and that none of
the laity " reading the same should presume to
take upon them any common disputation, argu-
ment, or ezpoeitiou of the mysteries therein con-
tidned." In obedience to the proclamation, Bon-
ner, now Bishop dt London, ordered six of the
Great Bibles to be set up in difierent places in his
cathedral of St. Paul's, with a short admonition
to the same effect auapended upon each of the
{Hilars to which the books were chained ; bnt the
irregularitiea objected to by no means ceased.
In the following year, 1642, a direct attack was
made npon the En^iah Bible in the convocation :
the translation was complained of as full of f anlte,
and an attempt waa made to get it condemned
till a new and more correct one should be made
by the bishops, who, [sobably, if the task had
been committed to them, would have been in no
hurry to finish it The scheme of a new tranala-
tion, however, was defeated by the management
of Ctanmer, who induced tbe king to take the
middle course of referring the existing translation
to tbe pemaal of the two nniverutieei The great
maiority of the l^shopa protested agwnat this
dedaion ; but the convocation waa soon after dis-

> BannCi JU. Jt^ltm. a.

In tbe year 1632 was reprinted, probably for
the last time without alteration, tbe old d)arch-
book, or directory for public worship, entitled the
Fettival, consiBting chiefly of extracts from the
Oolden Legend, or book of the biography of the
saints. It was, of course, a thoroughly Popish
manual, inculcating all the common doctrines of
the Bomish church with aa little reserve or
qualification aa if nobody had ever yet ventured
to call any of them in question. In what is called
the Bedee, or inatmctions to the people what and
whom they are to pray for, the pope and his col-
lege of cardinals are aet down in the first place
after the good estate and peace of holy church ;
and in the sequel are eniunerated "tUl abbots,
priors, monks, canons, friars, pilgrims,' dc The
seven aaoramenta, the seven deeds of mercy, the
seven deadly sins, the nine manners of horrible
pains, and the nine mannan of people that shall
be tormented therewith, are all faithfully set forA
and expounded. Images are commended as signs
or means whereby men should learn "whom they
should worship and follow in living," although
to do Ood's worship to them is forbidden. The
benefite of bearing maes are extolled in some sin>
gular expressionB,

Stiype conceives that this book was not wholly
laid aside till after the close of the reign of Henry
VITI. Some corrections, however, were (A ueoes-
si^ made in it inunediately after Henry's breach
with the pope, and some more as he proceeded
with his further reforms. In the course of the
very next year, 1633, before the pope's authority
waa caat off by the parliament, Henry himself
wrote and published a treatise in lAtin against
the tyranny and horrible impie^ of the Biahop
of Bome {De Poteitaie Chrutianonttn Beffam ia
tuu ecdenU, amtra Pontifici* tyrannidem «t Aor-
r^iilem impitlattm). In the same session of pai^
liament in which an end was put to tbe authority
of the pope, some relief from the severity of the
old laws against beresy was obtained by tbe new
act, which declared that apeaking against the
Bishop of Bome and his dedees should no longer
be considered to constitute that offence, and,
among other alleviations of the ancient process,
orduned that the charge should be proved by
two hiwful witnesses at the least — that the trial
should be in public— ufd that the accused person
might be bailed at the discretion of two joatices
of the peace. Thia year also an order was issued
by the king, in his capadty of supreme head of
the church, which had tiie effect of doing away
with the nae of the form in the festival called
the Qeneral Sentence or Curse, which was WMlt
to be read to the people four times every yeariu
the course of the church service. Thia long and

,v Google

212

HISTOEY OF ENGLAND.

[Rbuoiok.

eoupKbeoaive deuuDciation was directed with
especial vehameaoe against all who in anj way
injured or troubled the state of holy church, by
withdrawing ofleringB, tithea, renta, or other eo-
cleuastical dues — by violating the rights of sanc-
tnary — by calling iu the aid of the civil power in
mattera appertfuning to the ecdesiasticul jiuisdic-
tioD — by retaining posHession of houses, manors,
or oUier property belonging to the church—or in
any one of varions other ways that were apecified-
The Iciog's order to the bishops was to leave out
in the Greneral Sentence all Buch articles as tended
to the glory and advancement of the Bishop of
Rome ; but the efiect, as has been mentioned, was
to cause the Ourae to be soon laid aside altogether.

An yet, however, with the exception only of
the single doctrine, if it could be so called, of the
Papal supremacy, no alteration was made in any
port of the ancient national profession of faith.
This very year, on the petition of the convocation,
Henry iaaued a strict proclamation against the
Importation and possession of what were called
heretic^ books. Among these, according to a
list published a few years before, were Tyudal's
New Testament, and the various treatises of
Luther, Hues, Zwingle, and the other continental
Befonners. In this and subsequent years many
persons even suffered at the stake for the offence
of impordng and dispersing such books.

The friara, it is well known, early drew upon
themselves the determined hostility of the king
by their almost universal opposition to him, and
advocacy of the cause of Catherine, in the a&ir
of the divorce. But the best handle which they
gave him for the execution of his designs for their
destruction, arose out of the business of the Holy
Maid of Kent, of whose prophecies their zeal and
credulity made them very generally either the
dupes, or at least the pretended believers and
upholders.'

The Nun of Kent and her confederates,, m-
rather those who made use of her as their instru-
ment, were put to death in 1S34. At this time,
under the ascendency of Cranmer and Cromwell,
and the atill unimpaired infinence of his young
and beautiful quean Anne, Henry showed perhaps
more of an inclination towards Protestantism
than at any other period of his life.

Some notion of the mixed religion patrouiied
at this dat« by the authorities in England may
be gathered from a work entitled Kttig Henn/i
Primtr; a second edition of which appeared, in
a quarto volume, in 1035, put forth professedly
by l>r. Uarshal, archdeacon of Nottingham. It
consisted of a collection of tracts on the different
jiorts of Divine worship, moat of which seem to
have been published before at different times,
bnt were now revisad and aooompanied by prS-

' fatory admonitions in the spirit of the prevailing
syston. On the whole, the work inculcated,
though covertly, a sort of half Protestantism.
In an exposition of the Ten Commandments, with
which it commenced, what we call the second
commandment was, after the common Popish
fashion, treated as part of the first, but in othen
of the pieces the Protestant distinction between
the two was recoguiEed. The topic of the un-
warrsntableness of the worship of the Virgin and
the saints is pressed with little reserve. In one
place, indeed, the writer ventures to point out
the great danger of foiling into idolatry by the
practice of such worehip, and comes to this bold
conclusion : " That it waa not meet, comely, nor
fitting, that in our prayers we shonid make a god
or saviour of any saint in heaven ; no, not of our
blessed Lady." Still, however, the litany, al-
though given in English, and prefaced by au
argument against praying to saints, was left with
all the old addresses to the Virgin, to the angels,
to the twelve apostles, the martyrs, confessors,
and virgins, calling upon them for their interces-
sion in behalf of the worshipper. The Uatins,
Even Song, and Seven Penitential PiuUms, were
all likewise given in English. In a Iheout and
Frvitfvl Bemanbnmee of Chruit Ptution, an at-
tack was made upon the superstition of thinking
that any benefits could accrue from carrying about
the peraon images, punted papen, or carved
crosses, designed, as was pretended, to be helps
towards beholding the paesioD of Christ — that by
such means, for instance, safety could be secured
from fire, water, or any other peril. Perhaps,
however, the most daring instance of speaking
out occun in the admonition prefixed to the
Dirige, popularly called the Dirgt, which was
the office that used to be said for the souU of the
dead. There is no alteration in the old form,
except that the words are translated into English;
but in the prefatory observatiDns the writer says,

"Among other works of darkness and deep igno-
rance, wherein we have blindly wandered, follow-
ing a sort of blind guides many days and years,
I account this not one of the least, that we have

-rung and aung, mumbled, murmured, and pite-
ously puled forth a certain sort of psalms, with
responds, vemtcles, and Icasons to the same, for
the souls of our Christian brethren and sisters
departed out of this world.' " There is nothing,*
it is added, " in the Ihrigt, taken out of the Scrip-
ture, that makes any more mention of the souls
departed, than doth the tale of ILAm Hood"

In his present circumstances, threatened as he
was with the vengeance of the emperor for his
treatment of Catherine, the friendship <d the Pro-
tectant princes of Oermany was of the greatsat
importance ta Heniy ; and he never, befor« or
after, went so far in the directiou of the new

»Google

I. 1488-1603.]

H18T0BY OF EEUGION.

a religion aa he now did in hia endea-
voura to secure thM.t object. After some prelim-
inary negoUation, in the beginning of the year
1036, the Mector of Saxony and the other chiefs
of the Lutheran confederacy presented tbmr pro-
posala to him in a "petition and request," con-
y^fing of fourteen ftrtictes, bia answer to which,
printed by Burnet in bie euppleraent, from the
original in the Btate Paper Office, exhibits bim
to uB in the most Froteetant character he ever

"This negotiation,'' says Burnet, "sunk to a
greet degree upon Queen Anne's tragical fall;
and as the king thought they were no more neces-
■kry to him, so they saw his inti«ctable humour,
and bad no hope of succeeding with him nnless
they would have allowed him a dictatoruhip in
matters of leli^on." In another place the same
historian admits, in substance, that Henry now
arrogated to himself, in matters of religion, an
infallibility and authority aa absolute as bad ever
been claimed by the most imperious or intolerant
of the popes. He thought all persous were bound
to regulate their bebef by bis dictates.

Id the convocation which met in June this yesr,
and in which Cromwell occupied the chief seat
as the king's vic^erent, a great deal of debate
took place touching th6 new opinions in nshgion.
Kzty-aeven of these opinions, embracing the prin-
cipal tenets of the old Lollards and WyckiiSites,
of the Lutherans and other Protestant Befonners
of theday,and of tbefanatical AnabaptJsts, were
complained of by the lower honae aa prevalMit
erroTSthat demandedcorrectioii. The refn^venta^
tioD also noticed many eztj^vagant and indecor-
ooa ezpreasions, and irreTereut jests touching
confession, praying to saints, holy water, am) the
other ceremonies of the church, and called for
th<ar Buppresuon, not without some oblique re-
flections on Cranmer and his few brethren on the
bench of the same way of thinking with himself,
aa having neglect«d their duty in not putting
down such ahusee. Cromwell, however, still had
influence enough with Heury to obtiun from him
■ declaration rebuking, at least by implication,
this offidoua zeal of the clergy, and rather inti-
mating a favourable disposition towards some of
the denounced opinions. It was stated ki be the
king's pleasure that the rites and ceremonies of
the church should be reformed by the rules of
Scripture, and that nothing should be maintuned
which did not rest on that authority. Afterwards
many of the doctrinal points in dispute between
the two partieB were diacussed at great length.
In the end certain articles were agreed upon,
which, aft«r being in several places corrected and
tempered by the king's own baud, were signed by
Cromwell, Cranmer, and seventeen other bishops,
forty abbotd and priors, and fifty archdeacons and

proctois of the lower house, and were finally con-
firmed by the king, and published, with a preface
in his name.

The articles b^an with a distinct admission of
the great Froteat&nt principle of the supremacy
of the Bible, qualified only by the addition— to
which few Protestants would then object — that
(he three ancient creeds, that of the Apostles, the
Nicene, and the Ath&nasian, should be held to
be of equal authority with the Scriptures. When
particular controverted matters, however, came
to be spoken of, the language employed was not
HlwaysBoexplicitanddecisive.orat least was not
always perfectly consistent with this introduc-
tory announcement. la regard to baptism the
opinions of the Anabaptists aud Pelagians were
declared to be detestable heresies. Conceruiug
penance it was affirmed that it was instituted by
Christ, and was absolutely necessary to salvatiou
— that it consisted of contrition, confessioD, and
amendment of life, with exterior works of cha-
rity— that confession to a priest is necessary, if
it may be had~~that his abeolutiou is spoken by
an authority given to him by Christ in the gos-
pel, and must be believed as if it were spok^ by
Qod himself — that therefore none were to con-
demn auricular confessioD, but to use it for the
comfort of their consciences. In the article
touching the sacrament of the altar the dogma
of transubatautiation was laid down in the most
unqualified terms. In another article the neces-
sity of good works to salvation was distinctly
asserted, aud so for there was a rejection of the
Lutheran doctrine of justification by Mth aloue;
but, on the other baud, it was conceded that a
sinner will uot be justified by Qod for the merit
or worthiness of any good worii he may have
done; and it was noted with especial prominence
and emphasis that the good works necessary to
salvation were not only external acts, but the in-
ward motions and graces of Qod's Holy Spirit.
The some etru^le and intermixture of oppoute
opinions is to be discerned in what is said on the
subject of images; here, again, the old practice
being retained, but guarded, and in some degree
corrected and checked, by the modern principle.
As for the estimation in which the saints were
to be held, it was lud down, with the like inge-
nious indentation and dovetailing of the two
classes of opinion, first, that people were not to
think to obtain those things at the hands of the
saints which were to be obtained only of God;
secondly, nevertheless, that it was good to pray
to them to pray with and for us; and thirdly,
that all the days appointed by the church for the
memories of the saints were to be kept, but yet
that the king might at any time lessen the num-
ber of the said days, aud must be obeyed if he
did so. Another article sanctioued as good and

»Google

SI 4

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Relioioit.

laudable, and as having mystical significationa in
them, u well as being lueful to lift up the mind
to Qod, all the old customai; ceremonies of reli<
gious womhip — die veatmenta of the priest, the
Bprinkling of holy water, the diatributioQ of hoi;
bread, the bearing of candles on Candlemaa Bay,
the giving of aahee on Aah Wednesday, the
bearing of palma on Palm Sunday, the creeping
to the Orosa od Good Friday, the hallowing the
font, and other exorcisDia and benedictionB. The
last of the articles related to the much contro-
verted qneationa of purgatoiy uid prayera for
the dead; and here, on the whole, the Protestant
notions must be considered to have prevuled,
although there was still BOmething of the uBual
balancing and compounding together of adverse
if not absolutely contradictory views and state-

Thia mongrel religion, neither Bomaniem nor
ProI«atantaam, but an irregular patehwork or
uncemented jumble of both, could not be ex-
pected, after it wm manufactured and produced,
to be perfectly acceptable to any part of the na-
titm.' Ab 800U aa it waa publi^ed, Burnet tella
us it "occanoned a great variety of cenenrea ■" —
that is, of eipreasiona of opinion respecting it.
On the whole, however, it was generally regarded
■a a decided advance in a Protestant direction.

The publication of the articles waa immediately
followed by a royal proclamation, alxiliahing, in
oonformiQ' with the authority given by one of
them, a considerable number of hoUdays, includ-
ing most of those in the harvest season — a mea-
sure of policy which, however calculated to be
ultimately beneficial, was, perhaps, not very wiae
in the temper of the popular mind at the moment,
and ia admitted to have had as great an effect as
any of the sudden innovations that were now
made, in provoking the Pilgrimage of Grace and
the other serious insurrectionary movements that
took place in the close of this year. A set of in-
junctions to the clergy was also issued by Crom-
well a* vicegerent in the king's name, "which,"
■ays Burnet, "waatliefir^act of pure supremacy
done by the king; for in all that went before he
had the concurrence of the two convocations.'
The injunctions, which are supposed to have
been penned by Cranmer, after exhorting the
clergy to see, aa far as in them lay, to the observ-
ance of the new articles, and of the laws and
■tatutes made for the extirpation of the usurped
power of the Bishop of Borne, directed that all
rhildren and servants should be taught from their
inhncy to repeat and understand their Pater-

■ " II !• j« but ■ DUDflt-nutla, > botcb-potsli," mU t^tl-

tiat; |MitlTPup*iT,>Bd|iull7tfiHnllclanmiiwladtot«tliK.
Th*} iV In ■>/ ooatij, whan thar I - - -
tn^h, 'OooataUij ' '

uost«r, the Cr^, aud the Ten Commandmenu
in their mother tongue.

In the following year, 1537, the war of refor-
mation began to be cairied on t^ Cromwell and
his aasodatea after a new fashion, by the deatme-
tion of images, relics, and shrines, which had
long been the objects of popular veueratian — a
measure which was rather facihtat«d tlum origi-
nally provoked by the discoveries that were made
in the course of the visitation of the mouasteriee
now commenced. One of the orders given to the
visitors waa to make a minute examination of all
the relics and imagea in any of these houses to
which pilgrimages were wont to be made. "In
this," says Burnet., "Dr. London did great ser-
vice. From Beading he writes that the chief
relics of idolatry in the nation were there — an an-
gel with one wing, tliat brought over the spear's
head that pierced our Baviour's side. To which
he adds a long inventory of their other relics,
and aaya there were as many more as would fill
four sheets of paper. He also writes from other
places that he had everywhere taken down their
images and trinkets." Some of the imagea were
brought to London, and, for the purpose of ex-
posing the juggling impostures of the monks,
were broken up at St. Paul'a Croaa in the sight of
all the people. The rich shrines of our lAdy of
Walnngham, of Ipswich, of Islington, and many
others, were now brought to London, and burned
by order of Cromwell.

The abolition of images and pilgrimages occn-
pied a principal place in a new set of instructions
which Cromwell iaaued to the clergy in 1S38.

At this point, however, the state of matters
"began to turn." The sequel of Henry's course,
in regard to doctrinal changes, waa, with the ex-
ception pertiape of some momentary starts of ca-
price or passion, rather a going back than a going
forward. Although he had thrown off the au-
thority of the Roman pontiff, indeed, he had no
notion that the English church should be left
without a pope ; his objection was not to the
thing but to lie person; and hia main object in
displacing the Bishop of Borne evidently was,
that, in BO far at least as the reli^on of hia own
subjects was concerned, he might mount the
same seat of absolute authority himself. The
ancient head of the Roman church never put
forward greater pretensions to infallibility than
were, if not distinctiy advanced in words, yet
constantly acted upon by the new head of the
English church in bis narrower empire of spiri-
tual despotism. The Catholics, seeing they could
do no better in the state to which matters had
been bronght, were now contented even to affect
a satisfaction with the changes that had been al-
ready made, in the hope of thereby preventing
further innovations. After the trial and eon-

»Google

A.D. I48&— 1603.]

HI8T0BY OF RELIGIOIT;

215

demoaitioD of lAmberl, the Socnunentaiy, in No-
Tsmber, 1S39, in which Henry took personally
eo coDBpieuonB a part, "the party that opposed
the ReformatiMi,* naja Buraet, "persuaded the
king thai he had got bo much reputation to him-
self by it, that it would effectiuUly refute all
aap«THiotia which had been cast on him as if he
intended t« change the faith ; neither did they
forget to set on him in his weak side, and mag-
nify aJl that he had said, as if the oracle had ut-
terad it, by vhich they said it appeared he was
indeed a defender of the faith, and the supreme
head of the church."

In this spirit he now issued a long proclama-
tion, prohibiting generally the importing of all
English books printed abroad, and also the print-
ing of any books at home without license, any
pitrt of the Scriptare not excepted, till it had
been examined and approved by the king and
his council, or by the bishop of the diocese; con-
demning all the books of the Anabaptists and
Sacramentariea, or deniers of the corporal pre-
sence of Christ in the eucharist, and denouncing
punishment against all who should sell or other-
wise publish them; forbidding all persons to
argue against the doctriue of the real presence
under pain of death and the loss of their goods ;
declaring that all should be puniahed who es-
chewed or neglected any rdt«s or ceremonies not
yet abolished; and ordering that all married
priesta should immediately be deprived, and
those that should afterwards many imprisoned
or otherwise further punished at the kii^s plea-
sure. Cranmer'B interest at court was now, from
VBTJOUB causes, greatly diminished. His chief
friend and ablest supporter on the episcopal
bench. Fox, Bishop of Hereford, had died in
May of this year ; and " for the other bishops
that adhered to Cranmer,* says Burnet, "they
were rather clogs than helps to him.* The only
ally Cranmer had at court upon whom he could
place any reliance was Cromwell, and he had
enough to do to take care of himself ; for, as the
right reverend historian remarks, "there was
not a queen now in the kin^s bosom to fovonr
their motions.* Cromwell conceived the scheme
of recovering bis interest by bringing over Anne
of Cleves. How diaastrona this project proved
in the issue to its contriver has been already re-
lated. But even before Henry's new marriage
Cromwell's influence bad been greatly weakened
by the growing ascendency of the able and crafty
Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, who at this mo-
ment professed himself precisely as much a Be-
former and as much a follower of the old faith
as his royal master, and in that way was easily
enabled to guide Henry's course more and more
back towards the latter, without suffering him
to feel that he was either driven or drawn.

In I539wBB passed by the parliament the fam-
ous act for abolishing diversity in opinions (31
Henry VIII. c. 14), popularly called the Statute
of the Six Articles, or the Bloody Statute, con-
firming the resolutions which had already been
carried in the convocation in favour of transub-
stAotiation, against commoniou in both kinds,
against the marriage of priests, and in favour of
vows of chastity, of private maasea, and of auri-
cular confession. The prime instigator of this
new law was undoubtedly the Bishop of Win-
chester, now the kinj^s chief counsellor.

The six articles of the Bloody Statute remained
the established rule of faith of the Snglish church,
upon the several points to which they related,
for the rest of Henry's reign. At this point,
therefore, the history of the changes iu the na-
tional religion made by Henry comes to a close,
in so far ss it forms a continuous narrative; but
there are still a few scatt«red incidents in the
history of the church, and of the r^ulation of
doctrine and worship during the last years of
his reign, that require a short notice.

Some injunctions issued by Bonner to his
clergy of the diocese of London, in 1042 — which
Bnmet thinks "have a strain in them so (pjr dif-
ferent from the rest of his life, that it is more
probable they were drawn by another pen, and
imposed on Bonner by an order of the king* —
contain a few things worth; of notice. Among
the duties imposed upon all parsons, vicais, cur-
ates, and other parish priests, one is, that they
read over and diligently study, every day, one
chapt«r of the Bible, with the ordinary gloss, or
that of some other approved doctor or expositor;
another is, that they shall instruct, teach, and
bring up in learning, in the best way that they
can, ail snoh children of their parishioners as
shall come to them for that purpose— at least
teaching them to read English — for which they
were to be moderately paid by such as could
afford it. Some of the paragraphs that follow
are illustrative of the manners of the time. It
is spoken of as "a detestable and abominable
practice, universally reigning," that young people
and others were accustomed on Sundays and
holidays, during the time of Divine service, to
resort to alehouses, and there exercise unlawful
games, with great swearing, blasphemy, drunken-
ness, and other enormities. It was even thought
necessaiy to warn the clergy themselves that they
should not in future use any unlawful games, or
resort frequently to alehouses, taverns, or other
places of evil repute, or haunted by light com-
pany; and they were also forbidden to array
themselves in unseemly and unpriestly habits or
apparel, or to have unlawful tonsures, or to carry
armour and weapons about with them. Another
injunction forbids any manner of common plays.

»Google

216

HISTORY OF ENGLAND-

[KKUOtoa.

jtames, or inUrludw to be pUjed, Mt forth, or
decUred, within dinrchcH or chapeb. This was
k siDgutar practioB, which, in tlie shape and
■pint at least in which it now prevailed, had
come in with tlia Beformation. The old miracla-
plapi, indMd, seem to Iiave originateil with the
clergy, and were frequentlj exhibited in the mo-
naateries, and perhaps also in the churches; but
iheM were, in the main, serioua and solemn per-
formances, and were designed to ezciU the re-
verential and devotional feelings of the specta-
tors, which were not at all disturbed even by
the mde jocnlaiity or buffoonery, a good deal
of which was usoaJly mixed up with the repre-
sentation. But the plays and interludes now
acted in churches were expressly intended to
turn things that had heretofore been held sacred
into ridicule. Buniet tells as that, although the
clergy complained of them as an introduction to
atheism and all sorts of impiety, and the more
grave and learned Beformers disliked and oon-
deinned them as unsuitable to the genius of tme
religion, yet "the political men of that party
made great use of them, eacoura^ng them all
they conldi for, they said, contempt l)eing the
most operative and lasting affection of the mind,
nothing would more effectnally drive ont many
of those abuses which yet remuned, than to
expose thero to the contempt and scorn of the
people."

These indecent exhibitions at length attracted
the attention of the government, and in 1043 an
act of parliament (stat.34 and 35, c. l,aititled, "An
Act for the advancement of True Religion, and
for the alwlisbment of the contrary") was passed
for putting them down, along with divera other
abuses, or conceived abuses, which had sprung
up in the fertile hot-bed of the licentious time.
For reformation of these evils the act proceeds
to prohibit " all manner of books of the Old and
New Testament in English, being of the crafty,
false, and untrue translation of Tyndal, and all
other books and writings in the English tongne
teaching or comprising any matters of Cliristian
religion, articles of the faith, or Holy Scripture,
or any part of them,* contrary to the doctrine set
forth by the king since the year IMO, Another
proviso is amosiog : free liber^ to use any part
of the Bible or Holy Scripture as they Iiavo been
wont, so always it be not contrary to the doc-
trine of I54D, is continued to the chancellor of
England, to oaplaitu of th« war*, justices of peace,
and others, "which heretofore have been accus-
tomed to declare or teach any good, virtuous, or
godly exhortations in any assemblies." But the
most important part of this kw was the new re-
gulations with regard to the readingof the Scrip-
tures. Not only was it forbidden to any person
nut having the license of the king or the ordinary

to read the EugliaU Bible aloud in any church
or open assembly, under the penalty of a month's
imprisonment, but great restrictions were laid
even upon the private r^ing of it. Any noble-
man or gentleman, being a householder, was still
permitted " to read, or cause to be read by any
of his family or servants, in his house, orchard,
or garden, and to his own family, any text of the
Bible or New Testament, bo the ssme be done
quietly and without disturbance of good order;'
and any merchant, "being a householder, and oc-
cupying the seat of merchandise,' might read to
himself privately in the sacred volume. But that
privilege was withdrawn from all women, arti-
ficers, appi'entices, journeymen, serving-men of
the degree of yeomen or under, husbandmen, and
labourers; and noblewomen and gentlewomen
were only allowed to read to themselves alone,
and not to others.

In 1537 had come out, under the title of Tka
GotUy and Pioat IrutiiiUion of a Chrittian Jlan,
the first edition of an explanation of all the lead-
ing doctrines of the church, compiled by a body
of bishops and other divines commissioned for
tliat pnrpose by the king, whence it popularly
received the name of the Bishopa' Book. A
second edition of this work, revised and put into
a new form under the direction of another com-
mission, appeared in 1540, the title now given to
it being 7^ ^tcatary JDoetritM and &vditiim
of a Chrittian Man. In thie authoritative com-
pendium there was certoioly, on the whole, much
less of Protestantism than of the ancient fwth.
A third edition of the book, with many altera-
tions and additions by another commission, came
out in 1543, introduced by a prefatoiy epistle
from Henry himself, whence it now came to be
called The King"* Booh. The most remarkable
piBBBge in this epistle related to the reading of
the Scripture, which it was admitted was neces-
sary for those whose office it was to t«ach others;
"but for the other part of the church," continues
the king, " ordained to be taught, it onght to Iw
deemed certainly that the reading of the Old
and New Testament is not so necessary for all
those folks, that of duty they ought and be bowid
to read it, but as the prince and the policy of
the realm shall think convenient so to Ite toler-
ated or taken from it."

It is difficult to understand what Burnet means
by describing the act of 1043 as one that freed
the people from the fears in which they were
before on the subject of religion, inasmuch as it
delivered the laity from the haxard of burning.
By one of the clauses of this new act, which,
throughout, is one of reatriction and abridgment
of former liberties, it is expressly declared that
the bloody statute of the Six Articles shall still
continue in the same force, strength, and «ff«<Tl

»Google

*-!>. 1485—1603.]

HISTORY OF EEUGION.

217

ta ever. WitLin a few moDtfas afl«r the pasaing '
of this uew law, three personB attached to the '
doctrines of the Keformatiou, Anthony Person,
a priest, Robert Testwood, muaiciau, aud Henry
Rimer, one of the churchwardens of Windsor,
were burned t^elber io that town under the 1
Htutute of the Six Articles. On the iufoi-mation
of Or. London, CromweirB zealuue Tisitor of Che '
monasteries and nunneries, whose occommodatiiig
obeervauce of the changes at court had cow been
rewarded by Cromwell's successor with n pre-
bendnl stall in St. George's Chaiiel, Gardiner
had obtaiued from the king a warrant to make
Hearcb in the houses of these unfortunate persons
for forbidden books, some of which were found
in their possession. They were brouglit to trial
»t Windsor on the 27th of July, IGJ4, along
with a fourth, Jjhn Marbeck, another muaiciau,
who had, it appears, made considerable progress
LQ the compilation of a Concordance of the Eng-
lish Bible, and were all cuudemned. Marbeck
received a pardon, and was set at liberty; but
the others, as we have mentioned, all suffered.

The only other innovation of any importance
that was made iu the church service in this
reign waa the traiinlation of the prayers for the

processions and of the lita:iiee iutn tlie Eugliah
tongue. Au order for the use of these English
prayera was sent to Archbishop Cranmer by
Henry, in June, 13-14, immediately before Henry
crossed the seas on his last eijiedition to Bou-
logne. This gave some hope to the Protestants
that the king, as Burnet expresses it, "waa again
opening his ears to notions for reformation, to
which they had been shut now about six years;"
hut they were immediately shut o^n as hard
Vol. II.

as ever. The year 1546 witnessed the consign-
ment, first to the rack, aud afterwards to the
stake, of Aune Askew, and numbers of other
victims in London aud elsewhere, for the deniid
of the real presence.

In fact, at the close of this reign, the Chunh
of England, although it had east off the Roman
supremacy, was still, accordiiig to its public foi'-
mularies and the law of the laud, a( one with the
Church of Rome in all the fundamental points of
doctrine and belief. The two great measures,
indeed, of the rejection of the po|ie and the con-
fiscation of the monasteries, which appear to have
been the only reforms that Henry ever really
went cordially into, had nalundly drawn after
them some degree of scepticism or coldness of
faith touching purgatory and prayera fur the
dead, and touching the worship of images and
the iutercession of the saints ; but even as to
these points there waa no distinct ab.indonment
of the ancient faith. The seven sacraments of
the Roman church, the corporal preaeuce in the
eucharist, the denial of the cup to the iaity, au-
ricular confession, the celibacy of the priesthood,
and almost the whole ceremonial of the mass, and
the other ancient forma, were retained iu the be-
lief aud practice of the Eng-
lish church as lung as Henry

At the date of the acces-
^ sion of Edward VI. (Janu-

ary, 1547), there can be no
doubt that the numerical
preponderance of the popu-
lation of the kingdom was
still ill the proportion of
many to one on tlie side of
the ancient religion. The
avowed Reformers did not as
yet foi-m the bulk of the in-
babitjuita of any place, eitlier
among the towua or iu the
country. It is not to be sup-
posed that even in any of the
great towns the majority of
the people had yet embraced
the uew doctrines; but these
Mooiunmto. doctrines had both a mucli

greater numlier of decidetl
adherents in the towns thim in the rural dis-
tricts, aud had also in the former much less of
attachment to the old religion to overcome iu
the masses who had not yet gone over to them.
Most of what was very fierce and determined in
the hostility Ihey had still to encounter waa to
be found among the villagers and peB£autiy.
I Among the upper classes the proportion of per-
sons who, swayed either by religious or political
' considerations, were thoi-ougldy in the intercata

»Google

218 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [RelioioS.

of the Heformatioti, waa pei haps scarcely greatei- 1 every Sunday aud holiday the priest should read
thjui aiuuug tUe lowov and middle cUases ; but \ at matins one chapter out of the Old Testament
here, too, there whs enlisted on that aide all that in English, and at even-song another out of tliH
was most euergetic and aspiring in the body of New. It was ordered that tho people should be
the uobility aud gentry, many of whom had | taught U> bewnre of the superstitious of aprink-
already profited largely by the spoliation of the ■ ling their beds with holy water, of ringing of
church, while many more looked for similar ad- bells, and of using blessed candles for driving
vantages from the same source. away devils ; but at the same time not to despise

. The first year of the reign of Edward VI. saw I any of the ceremonies not yet abit^ted. On the
the fabriu of the aucient system completely under- 1 subject of images it was direct^ that the curat^H
mined, and the foundations laid of a church Pro- should take down such as they knew were abuseil
teatttut in its doctrines and forms of wotskip, I by pilgrimages or offerings to them, but that they
The parliament which met in the beginning of should not be touched by private persons. An
November, 1647, repealed the statute of the Six ; eipectation, however, that much greater ehanftes
Articles, and also all the old acts against what . were at hand universally prevailed in the public
was called heresy, and moreover began the work mind. In some casea the people, impatient of
of reconstructiou as well as of demolition, by di< I Che apparent infusion of the government, took
rectiog, that henceforth the sacrament should be j the work of reform into their own hands. The
administered to the people in both kiuda. department in which they proceeded to exert

Of the othei' proceedings that were taken this themselves was, as usual, that of throwing down
year in the same direction, the most important . images, shrines, and other decorations — a species
was the preparation by Cranmer, or at least und^ of exploit which other feelings as well as a pious
his direction, of certain homilies or sermons to be zeal help to make popular. Gardiner complained
read to their cougregations by sneh incumbents of these outrages iu warm terms to the council,
of parishes as might not be qualified to compose j but little attention was paid to him. Meanwhile
discourses of their own. To the general imitation the subject of images, and also several of the other
of these pTiDt«d discourses by the clergy. Bishop ■ great controverted questions, were taken up in
Burnet attributes the introduction of the practice | their public discourses by the preachers on both
of preachers reading their sermons, the custom ' sides. Dr. Ridley, already designed for the
formerly having been for them to deliver un- ' bishopric of Rochester, seems to have begun this
written or extemporaneous declamations. The ' course, throwing the whole kingdom into a fer-
homilies now prepared by Cranmer were twelve ' ment by a Lent sermon which he preached against
in number, and, when printed, were introduced '. both images and holy water. The late order, too,
by a preface in the name of the king, enjoining for the removal of such images as had beeu abuse<l
them to be read in all churches every Sunday by . to superstitious purposes produced a world of
such priests as could not preach. According; to contention, each parish being rent asunder by a
Sttype, two editions of the book were printed by , debate as to whether its favourite images had
Grafton this same year. "But it is strange," . been thus abused or not. At last another order
observes this writer, " to consider how anything, ! was issued in February, 1548, for the removal of
be it never so beueficial and innocent, oftentimes all images ; and this seems to have put an end to
gives ofTence. For a gi-eat many, both of the the excitement, whicli, in some places, had a£<
laity as well as the clergy, could not digest these ' sumed a very threatening appearance,
homilies ; and therefore, sometimes, when they A few weeks after was published a new office
were read in the church, if the parishioners liked for the communion, which had been drnwu up
them not, there would bo such talking and bab- j by a committee of bishops and other divines ap-
bling iu the church that nothing could be heard." j pointed to revise all the offices of the church. In
It is alleged also, that from the illiterate character this, however, the office of the mass was still left
of the rural clergy, these homilies were often rea<] | as before. The cup, of course, in conformity with
so imperfectly and incorrectly as to be scarcely ' the late act, was directed to be given to the laity
wortli hearing. as well as to the clergy. An important innova-

Aa yet, however, very little alteration had been tion was mads also in regard to oonfeesioa ; it
made In the forms of public worship. The in- : was enjoined that such as desired to make auri-
junctions issued by Cranmer and the protector , colar confession should not censure thoae who
to the visitors whom they sent out over the king- were satisfied with a general confession to Qod :
dom, soon after the commencement of the new | and that, on the other hand, those who need only
reign, were extremely mo<lerate and cautions, . confession to God and the chuieh, ahonld not be
Almost the only innovation that was ordered in ' oStoded with such as mode auricubr confeMion
Divine service was, that at high mass the epistle , to a p«iest
and goopel should be read in English ; aud that Before KOdsammer the some comDiiiaion had

,v Google

A.T(. 1486-1603]

HISTORY OF REUGION.

219

completed the prepftr&tioo of a neir general Pub-
lic Office, or Book of Oammon Prayer, in the room
of the ancient Latin Uaes Book. In proceeding
to this tA*k they begtm by coUectiiig aiid examin-
ing all the Tuious forma of the Mub Book that
had been wont to be used in different parte of the
kingdom. The new book contained very little
that waa not in the old one ; btit waa principally
dietinguiBhed from it fay its omiwion of many
forma tJiat were held to be supetstitiouH, and by
iu being thronghoiit in English. The chief ad-
i^ition was the Litany, which was the same that
ie atill in use, eicept only that it contained ori-
ginally a petition for deliverance from the Bishop
of Rome, which was atmck out iu tlie reign of

Id the aeaeion of parliament which began iu
November this year, the new " Book of Common
Prayer and Administration of the Saorameuta,
and other rites and ceremonies d the church,
after the une of the Church of £uglaiid," was
ordered to be used by all ministers in the oelebra-
tion of Divine service. In thU session of parlia-
nieut, also, acts were passed reviving the old law
on the subject of days of abstinence from flesh,
and repealiug all laws against the marriage of
priests.

The complete exposition and settlement, by
authority, of the doctrines of the church, how-
ever, still remained to be effected. " Many,' saya
Burnet, "thought they should have begun first
of all with those. But Cranmer, upon good rea-
sons, was of another mind, though much preaaed
by Bucer about it. Till the order of bishops was
brought to such a model that thefar greater part
of tbem would agree to it, it was much fitter to
let that deaign go on slowly than to set out a pro-
fession of their belief to which so great a jArt of
the chief pastora might be obstinately averae."
But at length Oardiner, Bonner, Heath, and Day,
having all been got rid of, and Ridley, Coverdole,
Hooper, and other zealous friends of the Refor-
mation, promoted to the epiaoopal bench, the pre-
)>aration of articles of religion was proceeded with
iu 1091, and finished by the beginning of the
neat year, when they werepnblislied by the king's
authority. These original articles were forty-two
in number, and did sot differ as to any material
point of doctrine from the present Thirty-nine
Articles.

Another great work which employed the la-
bours of Cranmer and hia associates in the conree
of this reign was the reform of the ecclesiastical

Although it never obtained any legal autho-
rity, the system of ecclesiastical law drawn up by
Oa&mer and his friends poaseaaes much interest,
from the light it throws upon the opinions en-
tertained us to varioua points of great importance

by the fathers of the English Reformation. We
shall, therefore, state its most remarkable provi-
uons. It began by declaring that the deuial of
the Cbriatiau religion ahoultl be punishable with
death and the loss of goods. Ko capit&l punish-
meut was eipreaaly deuounced against heresy i
but obstinate heretics were to be declared infa-
mous, incapable ot public trust, of being wit-
nesses iu any court, ot making a will, or, finally,
of deriving auy benefit whatever from the law —
a condemnation which would seem to be veiy
nearly equivalent to putting them to death at
onoe. Blasphemy was made punishable in the
game way with obstinate heresy.

The reign of Edward VI., in the course of
which the Protestant doctrines and worship were
thua gradually, but, in the end, completely estab-
lished, must have very oonaiderably slackened the
hold of the ancieut religion upon the p>opnlar
mind. But we believe, after all, that it was the
reign of Mary, much more than that of Edward,'
which really made England a Protestant coun-
try. Mar/a eauae was at first supported against
her unfortunate Protestant rival by the bulk of
the population in alt ports of the kingdom; and,
although it is certain that numy of those who so
took her part were actuated by other principles
and motives than tbeir attachment to Fopeiy, it
ia hardly to be believed that bo general an entho-
siaam in her favour would have been shown by a
community the majority of which were Protes-
tants. At the accession of Elizabeth, on the con-
trary, we behold a really national manifestatiou
of Protestantism — the people of all claaHes eagerly
crowding to carry her iu triumph to the throne,
aad hailing her not only as their queen, but aa
their deliverer. The horroia of the preceding
Popish reign had done more to spread through
the laud a horror of Popery tlian pivbably the
moat strenuous exertions on the part of an estab-
liahed Protestant clergy could have done in twice
the same space of time. No teaching, no preach-
ing could have told like that of the martyrs from
the midst of the flames.

The firat year of Mary's reign saw everything
that had been set up in the matter of the national
religion by her brother thrown down, and all
that he had thrown down again set up. The
pariiament which met in the beginning of Octo-
ber, 1GS3, swept away, by a single statute of re-
l>eal (1 Maiy, sec. S, cap. 8), all the acta of the
last reign respecting the administration of the
sacrament to the people in both kinds, the elec-
tion of hiahopB, the uniformity of public worship,
the marriage of priesta, the abolition of miaaals
and removal of images, the keeping of holidays
and fast-days, &c. ; and directed that Divine
service should again be performed m it used to
be in the last year of Henry VIII. Within the

Xioogle

HISTORY OF ENGLAND,

[Km

■ame apace, Gurdiuet, Bouner, Tunatal, Day,
and Heath, were all reatored to their bishoprics;
Bidlej and Cranmer were sent to the Tower; the
other Protestant hiahopa were expelled from the
Houseof Ijorda; and, soon afttr, all of them were
depriveil of their sees. At this point the direc-
tors of the retrograde movement halted for a few
months But before the end of the year in54,
acts had been passed by the |mrliament revivinj;
all the old acts ngainRt heresy (1 and 2 Philip
and Mary, cap. 6), and repealing all statutea, ar-
ticles, and provisions made against the aee apos- !
tolic of Rome since the 20th year of King Henry [
VIII., and also for the re-establishment of ail ^
spiritual and ecclesiastical possessions and her-
editaments conveyed to the l^ty (1 and 2 Philip
and Mary, cap. 8). Thna, as in the preceding
year, things had been restored to the state in
which they stood before the final establishment
of Protestantism nnder Edward, they were now
brought bacli to that in which they stood ])rior
to the partial changes made by Henry.

It was after the vorlc of demolition and i-e-
erection had been thus completed that the fires
were kindled at Sraithfield and elsewhere, which
were never sufiered to go out, or left unfed by
living fuel, during the remainder of the reign.
It indeed acquired the character of a reign of
blood, and as such will continue to be character-
ized in history, although more from the refined
cruelly with which some of these executions were
distinguished, than from their merely numend
amonnL The manner of Cranmer'B raartyrdom,
and the infamous treacheries with which it was
preceded, rendered it more horrible than the
Bummary slaughter of a whole hecatomb of ordi-
naiy victims. Women, too, were as little spared
as men, their sex having no effect in exempting
them from the stake, although a female sovereign
was on the throne. Long after, it was remem-
bered with a sickening shudder, that a matron
for advanced in pr^naucy had been delivered in
the midst of the flames— and that the babe had
been rescued only to be thrown back into the fire.
Another infant, by the order of Bishop Bonner,
was whipped (o death tor the crime of being
bom of her«ic parents. From the cmeltiea also
used in prison, those who escaped the atake were
little to be envied by those who were led out to
Smithfield, as they endured in dark loathsome
dunfrnnns, and under a load of chains, the agon-
ies of a living martyrdom, compared with which
the place of execution would have been welcomed
aa a happy change. Many besides died in prison,
U>rd Burghley, in his tract entitled, The RrfCH-
tUm of Jiuliee I'n Kngland, reckons the entire
nnmber that died by hnpriaonment, torments, fa-
mine, and fire, to have been near 400, If the
unanimous testimony of the Protestant histor-

ians of tlie persecution is to be believed, the vic-
tims in many cases tasted the rack and other
tortures before they were brought to the stake.

Many English Protestants, also, in the early
part of this reign, foreseeing the storm that was
coming on, had fled abroad, taking refuge chiefly
in IVankfort, Strasburg, Basle, Zurich, and Ge-
neva. Among these were Sir Francis Knollya,
afterwards Queen Elizabeths vice-chamberlain;
Grindal, afterwards successively Bishop of Lou-
don, Archbishop of York, and Archbishop of Can-
terbury; Sandys, who succeeded GHndal in the
archbishopric of York; Bale, late Bishop of Os-
Bory, well known for hia numerous writings,
theological, biographical, and dramatic; Pilking-
ton, afterwards Bishop of Durham; Bentham, af-
terwards Bishop of Lichfield; Scory, late Bishop
of Chichester, and afterwards Bishop of Hereford ;
Jewel, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury ; Cover-
dale, the famous translator of the Bible, late
Bishop of Exeter; Knox, the great Scottish Re-
former; Fox, the martyrologist; and many other
learned peraona. In all there are computed to
have been above 800 of these refugees. They
established English Protestant churches in most
of the places where they took up their abode —
the two most considerable congregations being at
Frankfort and Geneva.

When Elizabeth came to the throne she found
the Protestantism of those of hor subjects who
were Protestants a good deal stronger than her
own. All the peculiarities of Elixabeth'a Pro-
testantism leaned towards the Popish notions;
and it is very evident tliat if she had been left to
make a religion of her own for the coantry, it
would have been something about midway be-
tween the Protestant and the Roman systems.
Indeed, it was not her fault that she was not re-
conciled to the court of Rome, to which, on her
accession, she despatched an envoy to intimate
that event in the same manner as she did to nil
the other courts of Europe, It was the pope that
threw her off, not she that threw off' the pope.
But although circumstances prevented Elizalieth
from making the Reformed church which she
established in England exactly what her own
views and inclinations would have deman<)ed,
her personal tastes had still a very considerable
influence in determining the form and character
which it actually assumed. Had Edward VI,
survived, it would certainly have presented a
very different osjiect iu the present day.

The firat atep which Elizabeth took in the
matter of religion was dengned to reatrain the
impetuosity of her more ardent Proteatant sub-
jects. When, immediately after her accession,
the people in many placea began to set up King
Edward's service, to pull down images, and to
insult the priests, she issued an order that certain

,v Google

A.D.148J-

HISTORY OF EEUGION.

121

parts of the service should be read in English,
and that the elevation of the host should be dis-
continued; but at the same time she strictly pro-
hibited all further innovations for the present.
She also ordered that all preaching should be
suspended In summouing her (irst parliament
■he did not even assume the title of Buprenie head
of the church. The emiuent Protestant divine,
Dr. Matthew Porker, however, h&d I>een already
selected to fill the metropolitan see, and every-
thing had been arranged in the council for the
reatoT&tion of the Befonaed church. The par-
liament, accordingly, which mat in the eud of
Jaiiu&ry,1559,beforeitseparated in the beginning
of May, revived all Henry Vlll.'a acts against
the jurisdiction and exactions of the Bishop of
Borne, which had been repealed in the last reign,
and also the statute of Edward VI., by which the
coromnnion was administered to the laity in both
kinds; repealed the old acte agunst heresy which
had been revived by Mary; appointed an oath
acknowledging the supremacy of the crown over
the church, to be taken fay all spiritual persons on
pain of deprivation (by atat 1 Eliz. oip. 1); re-
eatablished the use of King Edward's Book of
Common Prayer, with certain slight atterations,
chiefly in the communion service (by stAt. 1 Eliz.
cap. 2); and restored the first-fruits and tenths
of benefices to the crown (by stat. 1 Eliz. cap. 4).
A bill was also brought in, among some others
that did not psss, for restoring to their benefices
all clergymen that had been deprived in the laet
reign for being married; but it waa dropped on
the queen's order. Elizabeth, however, though
no admirer of married priests, did not cairy her
semples or dislike so far as seriooely to attempt
Uie project of setting up an nnmarned clergy;
she took no notice of the laws mode by her sister
in favour of clerical celibacy.

The effect of these new statutes was once more
completely to revolutionize the national reli^on
— to transform England from a Catholic into a
Protestant country, A few weeks after the par-
liament rose, the oath of supremacy was tendered
to the bishops; whenHeath, Archbishopof York,
Bonner, Bishop of London, Thirleby of Ely,
Bonrn of Bath and Wells, Bain of Lichfield,
White of Winchester, Watson of Lincoln, Ogle-
thorpe of Carlisle, Turberville of Exeter, Pool of
Peterborough, Scott of Cheater, Pates of Wor-
cester, Goldweil of St. Asaph, Tunst&l of Dur-
Niam, and three bishopa-elect, all refused it ; in
fact, Kitchen of Uandaff, the Vicar of Bray of the
episcopal bench,' was the Mily one who consented
to take it. With that single exception, therefore,
all the sees became at once vacant; but although
the deprived prelates were also at first sent to
prison, in conformity with one of the provisions

of the alatnte, only Bonner, White, and Watson
were detained in confinement. Most of the rest
spent the remainder of their days unmolested in
England; Heath lived in hisown house at Surrey,
where ha was sonietimea visited by the queen;
Tunstal and Thirieby resided with Archbishop
Parker at Lambeth.' Only Pates, Scott, and
Goldweil left the country. Most of the monks,
Burnet says, returned to a secular course of life,
but the nuns went abroad. A few of the Ca-
tholic nobility and gentry also retired beyond
seas. On the other hand, the exiles who had
gone abroad in Uory's time returned in great
numbers, many of them to be nominated to the
highest offices in the churcB.

Meanwhile preparations were made for a gen-
eral visitation of the national clergy. With this
view certain injunctions were drawn up, but not
without the queen proving almost impracticable
as to one of them— that which directed the re-
moval of images. However, she yielded at last
to the remonstrances, if not to the reasonings of
the bishops and other divines; and the injunc-
tions were issued in neariy the same terms with
those put forth by King Edward at his first oom-
.ng to the crown, except that some things were
added, of which the following were the most re-
inarkable. Although marriage was not forbidden
to the clergy, it was declared that great offence
had been given by the indecent marriages that
some of them had made in King Edward's days;
and, therefore, no priest or deacon was to be
allowed to Tnarry without permission from the
bishop of the diocese and two justices of the
peace, as well aa the consent of the woman's pa-
rents or nearest of kin. No book was to be
printed or published without a license from the
queen, or from six of her privy council, or from
her ecclesiastical commissioners, or from the two
archbishops, the Bishop of London, the chancel-
lors of the two universities, and the bishop and
archdeacon of the place where it waa printed.

According to the report made by the visitors
to the queen after they had finished their labours,
it appeared that, of 94(>0 beneficed persons in
England, all who chose to resign their benefices
rather than comply with the new order of things
at this crisis were, besides the fourteen bishops
and three Iriahops-clecl. already mentioned, only
six abbots, twelve deans, twelve archdeacons,
fifteen heads of colleges, fifty prebendaries, and
eighty recton,' So that, after this great change
from Popery to Protestantism, the parochial
clergy generally remained the same as before,
almost the entire body having stepped over from

'Tnn.tiJ, ■Lik<«niiiBneibr hii buning wd hb rlnoa, nir.
m taw montli^ ^ini >!■*

Thai ID Cimdi^n ud otlier lutbucili'

• Google

222

HISTOKY OF ENGLAND.

[Rsuaiox.

the one cree<l aiiil worship to the other as quietly
as if principle an J conscience had had nothing
do with the matter.

The re-est&blishment of the Reformed church
under EUizabeth may be considered to have been
completed in IS62 fay the publication of the
tides of religion as revised by the bishops, and
adopted by the convocation. Besides the reduc-
tion of the number from forty-two tu thirty-nine,
the chief alteration that was made ujMn the ori-
ginal articles published in the time of King Ed-
ward was in that on the Lord's Supper, in which
the express denial of the corporal presence was
DOW left out, and it was merely said that " the
body of Christ was given and received after a
spiritual manner, and the means by which it is
received is faith." It was hoped, according to
Burnet, by this reserve to retain in commu
with the church some whom a distinct denial of
the real presence would liave scared away. A
further revision of the articles took place in 1S71,
when, however, no alterations of any moment
were made, hut the articles were for the first time
subscribed and set forth by the convocation in
English as well as in L^tin. It was now, also,
that subscription to them was for the first time
made imperative upon the clergy (by stat. 13
Eliz. c. 12).

We may here also notice the new translation
of the Bible which appeared in this reign. Since
Craomer's, or the Great Bible, Co verdale, assisted

ID ■ pwtnJt kn ib

by others of his countrymen settled at Geneva,
had occupied himself during his exile in the time
of Idary with the preparation of a new English
version of the whole Scrii)tures, which was nt
length printed for the tinit time at Geneva in
16C0. This conliuued lo be the favourite Bible
of the English Purilaiis, and also of the Presby-
teriuu in Scotland, till the appeanuice of the

present authorized translation in the reign of
James I. Of course it was many times reprinted.'
The church thus set up in England occupied a
position that exposed it to hostility at the same
time from two opposite quarters— on the one
hand from those who desired a further refomta-
tion, on the other from those who wanted no re-
formation at all. But the quarrel of both these
classes of dinsenters or nonconformists with the
church, it is to be remembered, was equally a
quarrel with the state or the government, of which
the church was merely the creature and instru-
ment. As for the case of the Roman Catholics,
ample details have been given in the preceding
chapters of the commencement and coune of the
succession of measures taken against them, from
the simple prohibition of their worahip in the
beginning of the reign, through the disabilities
and severities of suiisequent times, increasing
with the exasperation of both parties, till Popery
came to be in a manner confounded with treason,
BO that most of the persons put to death for the
one might almost iu another view be said to be
put to death for the other. We shall here merely
enumerate together, and in their chronological
order, the principal of the series of legislative
enactments to which the followers of the ancient
religion were subjected in the courae of this reign.
First came the two acts of ISSfij the one (1
Eliz. cap. 1), entitle<l, " An Act restoring to the
crown the ancient jurisdiction over the state
ecclesiastical and spiritual, and abolishing all
foreign power repugnant to the same;" the
other (1 Eliz. c. 2) entitled, "An Act for the uni-
formity of common prayer and divine service
in the church, and the administration of the
sacraments." By the former the oath of supre-
macy was directed to be taken by all penona
holding any otBce, spiritual or temporal, on pain
of deprivation, and also by all persons taking de-

) in the universities, and by all persons sue-
ing livery or doing homage ; writing or preaching
against the supremacy was made puni^iable, for
the first oflence with forfeiture of goods and one
year's imprisonment, for the second with the

i of premunire, for the third as high treason;
and those powers of exercising its ecclesiastical
jurisdiction, through commissioners appointed for
that purpose, were conferred upon the crown,
'hich were afterwards turned into an engine of
such comprehensive despotism by means of the
famous Courts of High Commission. By the
latter, all clergymen refusing to use King Ed-
ward's Book of Common Prayer were ordere*) to
1>e punished for the first offence with forfeiture

le year's profit of their benefices and six
months' imprisonment, tor the second with one

»Google

A.D. 1485—1603)

HISTORY OF RELIGION.

year's impriBonment and deprivation, for the tbird
with deprivation and impriaOQinent for life ; all
peraoDB either apeakiDg aoything' against the aaid
service book, or csushig any other forma than
those it prescribed to be used in auj church,
chapel, or other place, in the performance of
prayer or the administration of the aacrainenta,
were subjected to the penalty of 100 marka for
the first offence, of 400 marks for the second, for
the third to forfeiture of gooda and imprisonment
for life J and a fine of 1». was inflicted upon every
person al>sent from his parish church without
cause on any Sunday or holiday. Not only
the deprivation of recusant clergymen, but pro-
secutions and punishments of private individuale,
began under thia act as soon as it was passed.'
In 1563, by an act (S EUz, c. 1), " For the assur-
ance of the queen's majesty's toyal power over all
estates aod subjects within her bighness'a domin-
ions,' several of the above provisions were made
still more ext«ndve and stringent. The oath of
aupremaey was oow required to be taken by all
persons entering into holy orders, by all school-
nuttWra, bairistera, benchers, and attorneys, by
all officers of any court of common law or other
court whatever, and by all members of the House
of Commons ; and the refusing it, or upholding
the jurisdiction of Borne, waa made punishable
with the paina of prerounire for the firat offence,
and for the second with those of high treason.
In 1S71, after the Earl of Northumberland's re-
bellion,' a new act upon the subject of treason
(stat. 19 Eliz. c. 1) waaprindpally direct«d against
the adherents of Popery. It irns now made high
treason to compass, imagine, invent, devise, or
intend, the death or bodily harm of the queen,
or iJie deposing her, or the levying war against
her, or exciting foreigners to invade the realm,
if such designs were uttered or declared by any
printing, writing, or worda, or to deny the queen's
title, or to affirm her to be an heretic or usurper;
any persou daring the queeu's life claiming title
to the crown, or usurping the royal title, or ra-
foaing to acknowledge the queen's right (this and
the following clauses were especially levelled
against the Queen of Scota and her adherents),
waa disabled from inheriting the crown; all
elaimants or pretenders to any right of succes-
sion to the crown, after the queen's proclamation
had issued against them, were declared guilty of
high treason ; denying the power of the common
law, or of this or any other act of parliament, to
limit the descent of the crown, was made high
treason during the queen's life, and afterwards
pnnishable by forfeiture of goods ; and the print-
ing or publishing that any particular person
so declared by act of parliament, except her isi
■raa heir to the queen, was made punishable by

a year's imprisonment for the first offence, and
by a premnnire for the second. By another
statute of the same year (13 Eliz. c. 2), provoked
by the pope's excommunication of Elizabeth, it
was declared to be high treaaon to obtain or put
in uae any bull from Borne, or to receive absolu-
tion thereunder, and mispriaion of treason to con-
ceal the olFer of any snch bull, and punishable
with premunire to bring into the rndm "any
token or tokens, thing or things, called or named
by the name of an Agtuu D«i,ot any crosses, pic-
tures, beads, or such like vain and supentitioua
things from the Bishop or see of Rome." A third
act (13 Eliz. 2, c. 3) sought to prevent the retire-
ment of the Catholics beyond seas, by enacting
that any of the queen's aubjeeta leaving the realm
without her license, and not returning within sis
months after proclamation, should forfeit all their
gooda and tiie profit* of all their lands for life.
But what are properly to be called the penal laws
against Popery, ss being expressly and directly
pointed against the diaaemination and profession
of that faith, commence with the year 1381. By
an act passed in that year (23 Eliz. c I), entitled
"An Act to retain the queen's majesty's subjects
in their due obedience," persona pretending to
any power of abaolving subjects from their obe-
dience to the queen, or practising to withdraw
them to the Bomish religion, and all eubjeota so
absolved or withdrawn, were declared guilty of
high treason ; their abettors or concealers were
declared guilty of misprision of treason : the say-
ing of mass was made punishable by a year's im-
prisonment and a fine of 200 marks ; the hearing
of it by a fine of 100 marks and the sune t«rm
of imprisonment ; and the fine for ne^ecting to
attend church waa raised to the monstrous amount
of £20 per month. This very year Campion,
the Jesuit, and three other priests, were execu-
ted : and from this date to the end of the reign
there was scarcely a year in which several per-
sons of the same profession were not sent to the
gibbet. It is true, indeed, that they were not
put to death as Catholics ; Campion and his com-
panions were aitaigned on the old treason act
of the SOth of Edward III., and the others were
in like manner all found guilty of some old or
new tfenson ; but as the mere teaching, and in
certain circumstancea even the simple profession,
of the Bomau Catholic faith waa now converted
into that capital crime, some of them at lettat may
as correctly be said to have suffered sa Catholica
as they may be said to have suffered as traitors.
A new act, paased in 1585, "aganiBt Jesuits,
seminary priests, and such other like disobedient
persons" (27 Eliz. c. 2), added some others to the
list of these new Popish capital offfenoes, by de-
claring that all Joauits and other Romish priests
whatsoever, made or ordained out of Eugland,

• Google

22*

HISrrOBY OF ENGLAND.

[RsuotoH.

coming into or rtiiiainJDg in the kiiigdum, auil all
EngtiHh Hubjeuta educAted id any foreign college
of JeauitH or other aemiiiary of Bomiah prieul*,
not retumiug home ou proclamatiou and tuking
tbeoathufHujmmacy, should be deemed traitovs;
and the receivers of Bomish priesta go coming
from ikbroad, teloDs without benefit of clef^.
PeraoDS sending money to foreign Jefluita or
prieats were at the same time subjected to the
pains of premunire ; and oil persons were pro-
hibited from Bending their children abroad, with-
out licenae from her majeaty, under a penalty of
Ilini. Id 15«7, by an act intended to secure
the more ipeedy and due execution of the net of
ISRl.alJeonveyanceaDiade by recusants, to avoid
the penalties therein imposed, were declared void;
snd the tine of £30 per month, incurred for non-
attendance at church, was directed iu future to
be levied by distreaa upon the property of the
offenders to the eiteut of all their goods and
two-thirds of their landa. Finally, in 15!)3, by
another act "against Popish recnsanta" (M Eliz.
cap. 2|. nil persons above siit^en years of age,
being PofUh recusants convict, were ordered,
within forty days, to repair to their usual place
of dn-elling.and forbidden for ever after, without
written license from the bishop of the diocese or
deputy- lie a tenant of the county, to go live miles
from thence on pain of forfeiture of their goods
And the profits of their lands during life. This
was the last act passed againsit the Catholics in
the reign of Elizabeth.

But the other description of nonconformists,
opposite as were most of their principles and ob-
jects, gave, even in this early stage of their eiis-
tence, nearly as much trouble as the CatLoJica,
The origin of the Protestant INssenters may be
traced Ui the very dawn of the Beformation ; for
the principles of Wycliliffe in this country, and
of Hubs and Jerome of Prague ou the Continent,
w*re certainly much more nearly allied to what in
a Uter age was styled Puritanism than to tlie doc-
trine of the Establislied church. But the first ap-
[>eanince of Puritanism in England as an element
at variance with the spirit of the Establishment
was in the reign of Blwaril VI. In some of their
notions, indeed, even the original founders of the
Establishment, L'mnmer, Ridley, Latimer, and
their associates, may be regarded as haviug been
puritanically inclined in comparison with their
successors, the restorers of the Reformed church
in the reign of Elizabeth. Puritanism was first
imported into England after the establishment
of the Reformation by certain foreign divines,
Pet«r Martyr, Bucer, John k Lasco, aud others,
who came over from Oermany on the accession
o( Edward VI., and by one or two Englishmen,
who hail studied or travelled in that country,
0( these last the celebrated Dr. John Hooper

was the mofit distinguished; and the first distur-
bance occasioned in the newly founded church
! by the principles of Puritanism was when Hooper,
in IGSO, on being nominated to the bishopric of
Oloucester, refused to submit to the appointed
forma of consecration and admission. At this date,
however, English Puritanism— which, indeed,
was not even yet known by that name— was a
mere mustard -seed in comparison of what it afl^r-
wards became. Accidentally, one of the most
remarkable and enduring consequences of the
restoration of Popery iu England in the reign
of Uury, was the eventual introduction into
the country of a new spirit of Puritanism. This
was brought about through the large emigra-
tion of English Protestants to the Continent at
the commencement of Mary's persecutions, and
their return home ou the acce.isiou of Elizabeth,
fraught, many of them, with notions which they
had acquired in the schools uf(^vin,Zwiugle,and
other foreign Reformers, whose principles were
on many jwiuts wholly adverse Ui those which
prevailed in the recocistruction of the English
church. Great conteutious, in fact, had taken
place among the exiles, while resident abroad,
ou ttie subject of the ril«s aud ceremonies re-
tained in King Edward's Book of Common Prayer;
aud at last, while the party in hvour of these
forms retained possession of the church at Frank-
fort, their opponents retired for the moat part to
Qeneva, and there, uuder the eye of Calvin and
the immediate pastoral careof his disciple Knox,
I setupauewservice of their own, mostly borrowed
' from that of the French Proteslants, iu which
there were uo litany, no responses, and hardly
any rites or ceremonies ; and a directory of which
they published in English under the title of
the "Service, Discipline, and form of Common
Prayer and Administration of Sacrameuta use«l
in the English Church of Oeneva." Even many of
those who had Iteen members of the church at
F'rankfort brought back with them inclinations
in favour of a wider departure from the Popish
worship than Elizabeth would consent to iu her
Reformed church.

The Church of England, it is always to be re-
membei-ed, no more adopts or sanctious the )irin-
ciple of the private interpretation of Scripture
than does the Church of Rome. Differing from the
Chui-ch o( Rome iu holding the Scripture to be
the sole nile of faith, it still insists that the Scrip-
ture shall be received, not as any individual-may
intprpret it for himself, but as it is expoundnl
iu tlie articles and other formularies of the church.
It may, indeeil, lie doubted if the Puritans them-
selves at this early period had arrived at what it
has been common in later times to speak of aa
the great fundamental principle of Protestantism
- the right of every individual to be his own iu-

,v Google

A.t>. 1485—1603.]

niSTORY OF RELIGION.

tcrpret«r of t^e Word of Ood ; for this, wlieu car-
ried ont, would Beem to lead directly to the con-
durioa that the church ought to be unreatrained
hy any articles or formularies whatever. To
thia height, certainly, no class of Protestante had
■oared in the oaya of which we are speaking.
The utmost that was demanded by the first dis-
senters from the Church of England was, that
certain points about which they felt scruples
should be left as matters indifferent; these being, i
for the present, principally such mere matt«
oatward or ceremonial obserrance ad the habits
of the priesthood and the forms of public
ship. In one sense these things were left by the
church as ind^erent ; they were admitted to
indifferent aa matters of faith— that is to b
dissent in r^ard to them was not held to
heresy; but it was still held to be schism, and
was made equally to eicluds the individaal
maintaining and acting upon it from the fellow-
ship of the t^urch. In this respect the act of
nnifomiity bore as hard upon the Puritans as it
did upon the Papists. Nor was even the Act of
Supremacy acceptable to the former any more
than to the latt^; for, in general, the Puritans
now felt scruples as to the acknowledgment In
any terms of the king or queen as the head of
the church. These beginnings, too, soon led to
further differences ; in the words of a Ial«
miter, " the habits at first had been the only
or chief matter of oontention ; all the rites of
the church were soon attacked ; and finally, its
whole form and stmetiire.'" The avowed object
of the nonconformists, indeed, soon came to be
to substitute, for the established forms of wor-
ship and discipline, the Oeneva system in all ita
parts; nor were there wanting aome of them who
would have made a Geneva republic of the state
as well as of the church.

Throughout the present period, too, and for a
long time after, it is important to remark, the
Puritans equally with the church abominated
and strennously stood out against any toleration
of thoM who differed b^)m themselves in respect
to what they considered essential points. They
held that such persons ought not only to be ex-
cluded from communion with the brethren, but
restrained and punished by the law of the land.
If the English church, therefore, when restored
in the reign of Elizabeth, had chanced to have
been arranged upon Puritan principles, it is eer-
tun that the toleration of dissent would not
have entered into e: her its priueiplee or its prac-
tice more than it did as Uiings were actually
managed.

At first, however, many of the Puritans so far
overcame their scruples as to comply with the
required forms and accept of livings in the Es-

tablishment. The writer of (huir history main-
tains that, if they had not done this, in hopes of
the removal of their grievances in more settled
times, the Reformation would have fallen back
into the bands of the Papists ; "for it was im-
possible," he observes, " with all the aaaiatance
they could get from both unireraities, to fill up
the parochial vacancies with men of learoing and
chaiioter."'

For some yeais the Puritans who had joined
the church were winked at by the authorities in
many deviations from the appointed forms which
they introduced into the public service. Ardi-
bishop Parker has the chief credit of having in-
stigated the proceedings that were taken to en-
force In all tbe clergy a rigid compliance with
the rnbric. He and some of his episcopal bre-
thren, having been couatituted ecclesiastical com-
missioneni for that purpose by the queen, sum-
moned the clergy of tbe several dioceses before
them, and suspended all who refused to subscribe
on agreement to submit to the queen's injunc-
tions in regard to the habits, rites, and ceremo-
nies. Great numbers of luiiiisters, including
many of those moat eminent for their leal and
piety and their popularity as preachers, were thus
ejected from bMh the service and the profits of
their cures, and sent forth into the world in a
state of entire destitution. The course pursued
towards them was in some respects of the harsh-
est and most oppressive character. It was in
these circumstances that, feeling all chance of
reconciliation at an end, the ejected clergymen
resolved to separate themselves from the Eetab-
lishment, breaking off from the public churches,
and assembling, as they had opportunity, in pri-
vate bouses or elsewhere, to worship God in a
manner that might not offend against the light
of their consciences. This separation took place

' luee.

The preachings of the deprived minbters in
le woods and private houses gave rise to the
sw offence of what was colled frequenting con-
mtjcles, the putting down of which now afforded
abundant employment to the qneen and her ec-
clasiasticai commissioners. The Puritans were
brought in great numbers before the commis-
sioners, and fined, imprisoned, and otherwise
punished, both under the authority of the act of
parliament enforcing attendance upon the parish
efaorches, and by the more ample powers of the
Act of Supremacy, to which scarcely any bounds
were set. Meanwhile the controversy with the
church began to spread over a wider field, chiefly
through the preaching of the celebrated Thomas
Cortwright, tellow of Trinity College and Lady
Margaret professor of divinity at Cbrabridge, a
learned, eloquent, and courageous noncon-

m

,v Google

9SG

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

fRKUatOH.

furmtst. The univenitj ot Cambridge was a
great stronghold of Fnritaoisia, and here Cart-
wnght waa for some tiiae protected and per-
mitted t« duBCimiuite hu o|niuotui, while most of
his brethren were silenced ; but he, too, was at
last reached by the eccleuastical commiaBioners ;
b,dA, on the interference of Cecil, the chancellor,
was, in 1S70, deprived of his professorship. He
WHS afterwards also deprived of his fellowship,
and expelled from the nniversitj. The temper,
however, of a formidable minority in the new
parliament which met in 1671 showed that the
principles of Puritanism, though expelled from
the church, and almost driven from the face of
day, were still making progress in the nation.
Notwithstanding all the efforts of the govern-
ment, the nonconformists found means to nuun-
tain the defence of their opinions through the
press ; numeroos books and pamphlets were pnb-
lished by them, printed it could not be disco-
vered by whom or where; nor was it possible to
prevent them from being bought and read.

Arehbiahop Parker died in IG7S ; and if his
euccesBor Griudal had been allowed to follow his
own inclinations, or had been left in the real
government of the church over which he nomi-
nally presided, tha Puritans would have had a
breathing-time from their sufferings during the
ten years of his occupation of the metropolitan
diguity. But the circumstances in which he was
himself [daced, aud the activity of some of his
breUiren of another spirit and temper— especially
of Sandys, Bishop of London, who, from a violent
professor, had become a stiil more violent perse-
cutor of puritanic principles — prevented Qrindal
from being able to do anything to change the
course of rigour and severity that hod been begun
under his fvedeccMor. When, in the second year
of his primacy, he ventured to write to the queen,
recommending milder meaanres, her majeaty an-
swered his letter by an order from the Star Cham-
ber, confining him to his house, and suspending
him from his archiepiscopol f anctioDS altogether;
and to suspended he remained till within about a
year of his death. It was by this sort of boldness
and decision that Elizabeth throughout her reign
kept the nonconformists at bay. The House of
Commons which met in lOSl was more puritanic
than ever, and actually began tta proceedings by
voting that the members should, on the second
Sunday after, meet together in the Temple
Church, there to have preaching and to join
together in prayer, with humiliation and fasting,
for the aaristance of Ood's Spirit in all their con-
sultations < But when the queen was informed
of this extraordinary proceeding, she instantly
took measures to ehedt it. Hattou, her vice-
chamberiain, was sent down with a message to
the effect, that "she did much admire at so great

a rashness in that house as to put in execuUun
such an innovation without her privity and plea-
sure first made known to them.' Upon wltich it
was forthwith moved and agreed to, " That the
house should acknowledge their offence and con-
tempt, and humbly crave forgiveness, wiUi a full
purpose to forbear comnutting the like for the

It was during this very session that the act
was passed raMng the penalty for uon-atten-
dance upon the pariah church to £W per monthi
and also another act (S3 Eliz. C 2), intitled,
" An Act against seditious words and rumours
uttered against the queen's most excellent ma-
jesty," by which the devising and speaking sedi-
tious rumonrs against her majesty was made
punishable with the pillory and loss of botb ears;
the reporting of such rumours, with the pillory
and loss of one ear; the second offence in either
case being made felony without clergy; and by
which the printing, writing, or publishing any
manner of book, rhyme, ballad, letter, or writing
containing any false, sedition^ and slanderous
matter, to the defamation of the queen, Ik., were
constituted capital crimes. This last act was
espeeially levelled at the Puritous, whose com-
plaints aud remonstrances frem the press were
daily growing sharper as well as more abundant,
and several of them were put to death under ita
provisions. To this date is assigned the rise of
what has been designated the third taoe of Puri-
tans— the Brownists — afterwards softened down
into the Independents— whoM founder was Bo-
bert Brown, a preacher in the diocese of Norwich,
deeoended of a good family. "These people,"
says Neal, "were carried ofi' to a total separation,
and so far prejudiced as not to allow the Church
of England to be a true church, nor her minis-
ters true ministers ; they renounced all com-
munion with her, not only in the prayers and
t in hearing the Word and the

Archbishop Orindal, dying in 1683, was suc-
ceeded by Dr. Whitgift, who held the [>rimacy
during the remainder of the reign, and proved a
ruler of the church altogether to her majesty's
mind. As soon as he was seated in bis place of
eminence and authori^ he commenced a vigor-
ous crusade agtunst the nonconformists. Within
a few weeks after he became arehbiahop, he sus-
pended many hundreds of the clergy in all parts
of his province for refusing sabacription to a new
set of arttcles or regulations he thought proper
to issue. He then procured from the queen a
new eoclesiastical commission, drawn up in terms
much more comprehensive than bad ever before
been employed, conveying, indeed, powers of in-
qnisitioD and punishment in regard to every da-

> llin. Fm-ibtni, m. I. !>. W.

,v Google

.. 14S5— 1003.]

HI8T0EY OP REUGION.

227

scription of offence tluit coold by any colour be
brought within the category of apirituat or eccle-
■isatic&l delinquency. A Mt of uticleB, which
Wbitgift drew up for the use of this court in the
exAminatioD of die clergy, were ao etrong as to
startle even Cecil, and make him write to the
archbishop (though to do purpose) to get him to
mitigabi them somewhat. " I have read over
your twenty-four articles," he says, "... and I
find them so curiously penned diat I think the
Inquisition of Spain used not so many qnestions
to comprehend and to trap their pneeta.' The
archbishop's prooeedioge had thrown tlie nation
into the greatest fenuent when parllameut met
in November, 1064; and the commons imme-
diately proceeded to take into consideration a
number of bills for restraining the power of the
church. But ai soon as they had passed the first
of them a thundering message from the queen
again stopped them in an instant In 1698, at
the same time with the "Act agMoat Popish
Becuaanta,' another act was passed (36 Eliz. c
1\ entitled, "An Act to retain the queen's sub-
jects in obedience," to meet tbe case of the FrO'
tecrtant noncODformiata. It was enacted that all
persons above sixteen years of age who should
for a whole month refuse to attend Divine ser-
vice according to lav, or should attend unlawful
convenddea, or ahould persuade others to dis-
pnte the queen'a authority in matters eccleeiaati-
eal, ahould be sent to prison, there to remain
until they should openly conform and aahmit
themselree; and that all offenders convicted, and
not conforming and aubmitting within three
■nontha, should abjure the realm, and shouid, if
they returned, be put to death, as for felony,
without benefit of clergy.

I^es, imprisonment, and the gibbet continued
to do their work in the vain attempt of the church
and the government to put down opinion by these
inefficient arma, till within four or five years of
the close of the reign.

Bat the history of the church and of religion
dnring tlua reign oug^t not to be brought to a
close without the mention of one instance in
which the old writ cfa Ateretioo comburendo was
again called into use, and the stake and the
fagot were employed by Elizabeth to punish a
mere religious opinion, exactly in the same man-
ner an they had been employed by her father
and her aiater. On Eeat«r Day, 1B76, twen^-
aeven Qerman Auab^>ti8t8, as they were called,
were apprehended in the city of London, having
been found assembled at worship in a private
houM beyond Aldengate. The errors which they
were accnaad of holding appear to have been the
four following :— 1. That Christ took not flesh of
Uie substance of the Virgin: S. That infants
bom of faithful parents ought to be re-baptixed :

3. That no Christian man ought to be a magis-
trate: 4. That it is not lawful for a Christian man
to take an oath. Four of them consented to
recant these opinions; the others, refusing to
abjure, were brought to trial in the consistory
court, by which eleven of them were condemned
to be burned. Nina of the eleven were baniahed;
but the remaining two, named John Wielmacker
and Hendrick Ter Woort, were actually, on the
S2d July, consigned to the flames in Smitbfield.
This execution was Elizabeth's own act ; to hia
eternal honour, John Fox, the venerable marty-
rologiat, ventured to interfereinbehalfof the un-
fortunate men, and wrote an eameet and elo-
quent letter in Latin to the queen, beseeching
her to apare their lives; but his supplication was
sternly rejected. Fox aeems to have been almost
the only man of his time who was at all shocked
at the notion of destroying these poor Anabap-
tirta ; and yet he merely objected to the decree,
and more especially to the kind, of the punish-
ment. His argument is not so much for tolera-
tion as against capital punishments, and above all
against the punishment of homing. "There are
ezcommunicationa," he says, " and close impri-
sonments; there are bonds; there is perpetual
banishment, burning of the hand, and whipping,
or even slavery itself. This one thing I moat
earnestly beg, that the piles and flamea in Smith-
field, so long ago extinguished by yonr happy
government, may not now he again revived." '

After the full narrative which haa been given
in the preceding chapters of the coarse of trans-
actions in Scotland, during the latter part of this
period, which almost all turned upon the content
between the old and new religion, it will be
sufficient here mwely to recapitulate the leading
epochs of the progress of the Beformation in that
country.

While the Papal dominion was extending its
sway over the fairest parts of Europe, and re-
ducing the moat powerful kings and emperors to
unlimited submission, a singular exception was
afibrded in the religious history of Scotland. In
that country the pontifical authority wee repeat-
edly and succesaf nlly defied ; and in no case more
signally, than in that of the election of a Bishop
of St Andrews, a.d. 1178, when William tiie
Lion set aside the nominee of the pope, in favour
of a bishop of hia own choice, and persisted, in
spite of excommunication and interdict, until the
pu)tiff was compelled to yield. This event was
inSiguaJ contrast to the defeat of William's suc-
cessful rival, Henry IL, in the controversy of
Thomas 4 Becket. This happy exception in ta-
TOor of Scotland, amidst the universal subjec-
tion, is not, however, to be attributed wholly to
the energy of its sovereigns, and independent

In Cntv^ mnarftfOt gnfUik BaptUt.

,v Google

228

HISTORY OF EKQLAND.

[BcLiQiox.

hpirit of its people. A Btill Btrouger cause is to
be found in the reniotenesa of tbe conntr;, and
ita poverty. The Scota vere too far amoved
from the Papal seat of goreniment to be nB«d
na iofltniiueiitB in the anibitioua wan of the Pope-
dom, and too poor to supply the resourcea of
Boiuan luxury and ambition. While rich and
fertile England, therefore, was watched from the
head-^luarters of the church with n careful eye,
and asacased in proportion to its wealth, the land
of barren heaths and ragged mountains was con-
temptuoualy overlooked.

Although Scotland was thus comparatively in-
dependent of the monarchical authority of the
pope, it could not escape the inferior despotism
of the clergy, who, like rulers of distant pro-
vinces, availed themselves of their remoteness
from the seat of government in eetabliahiug a
tyranny of their own. In this way, the Scottish
priesthood were enabled to usurp an authority
and exercise nn influence for beyond that of their
brethren in England, France, or Itjdy; and these
advantages they used vith the strict severity,
and boundless arrogance, that characterize the
sway of undt-rlings. The political effects of such
an ecclesiastical rule are thus expressed by the
eloquent biographer of John Knox: "The full
half of the wealth of tlie nation belonged to the
clergy ; and the grcAter port of this was in the
hands of a few individuals, who had the com-
mand of the whole body. Avarice, ambition, and
the love of secular pomp, reigned among the
superior orders. Bishops and abbots rivalled
the first nobility in magnificence, and preceded
them in honours; they were privy counsellors,
and lords of session as well as of parliament, and
had long engrossed the principal offices of state.
A vacant bishopric or abbacy called forth power-
ful competitors, who contended for it as for a
principality or petty kingdom; it was obtained
by similar arts, and not unfrequently taken pos-
session of by the same weapons. Inferior bene-
fices were openly put to sale or bestowed on the
illiterate and imworthy minions of courtiers, on
dice-players, strolling bards, and the bafltards
of bishops. Pluralities were multiplied without
l>ounds; and benefices, given in oammtndam, were
kept vacant during the hfe of the commendator,
nay, sometimes during several lives; so that ex-
tensive parishes were frequently deprived, for a
long course of years, of all religions services — if
a deprivation it could be called, at a time when
the cure of sonla was no longer regarded aa'at-
tnched to livings originally endowed for that
purpose.' Of the fitness of such a priesthood
1« be the spiritual teacliers and intellectual im-
provers of iHch society, the same author gives
the following severe sketch, which is fully bome
out by the history of Scotland immediately pre-

vious to the Reformation : — " Even iHshops were
not ashamed to coufeaa that they were unac-
quainted with the canon of their &uth, and had
never read any part of the sacred Scriptures,
except what they met with in their missals. . .
The religious service was mumbled overin a dead
lai^pisge, which many of the priests did not un-
derstand, and some of them could scarcely read;
and the greatest care was taken to prevent even
catechisms, composed and approved by the clergy,
from coming into the hands of the laity. . , .
It is difficult for us to conceive how empty, ridi-
culous, and wretched those harangues were which
the monks dehvered for serrnons. L^iendary
tales conuerning the founder of some religiooa
order, his wonderful sanctity, tlie miracles which
he performed, his combats with the devil, his
watcbingB, fastings, flagellations ; the virtues of
holy water, chrism, crossing, and exorcism; the
horrors of purgatory, and the numbers released
from it hj the intercession of aome powerful
siunt— these, with low jeeU, table-talk, and fire-
side scandal, formed the favourite topics of the
proachera, and were served up to the people, in-
stead of the pore, salutary, and sublime doctrines
of the Bible,'

Amidst the religious dai-knees which had thus
been growing and deepening for centnriefl over
Scotland, it is gratifying to trace the existence
of a light, which, however dim, was never wholly
extinguished. So early as the sixth century, the
Culdees were established in Scotland ; and though
our information i^nt the tenets of this interest-
ing order is unfortunately very scanty, we find
enough in their hiatoiy to asanre us that both in
doctrine and discipline the Culdeea were so mnch
assimilated to the primitive type as to provoke
the keen opposition of Borne — tliat, in fact, they
were a protesting cbnrch againat the growing
corruptions in religion, as well as the conserva-
tors of knowledge and civilization amidst the in-
creasing barbarism of aociety. In the twelfth
century, after having maintained their ground
for 000 years, the order was reduced by the ex-
teneion of the Romish supremacy over Scotland,
and finally extinguished, a.d. lSt)7, in which year
the Culdees, as a public body, ugned their last
document. But the doctrines themselves could
not thus be suppressed ; and when the Lollards
of Kyle, about SOO years afterwards, excited the
att«nt>on of the Scottish government, under
James IV., it is probable that the people thus
branded with Lolhu-dism, now a title of clerical
odium and persecution, were nothing else than
the surviving relics of the Culdeea under a new
name. They were to be found in great nnmbers
throughont the kingdom, but more especially in
the western diatricta of Kyle, Carrick, and Cnn-
ningham, which, during the wars of indepsn-

»Google

A.D. 14S6— 1603.]

HISTORY OF RELIGION.

deuce, were ieitst diaturbed by English invodera;
Utd Ncb was the aiarm the; occasioaed, that in
1494, aboat thirty of theae Lollards, both nude
Mid female, some of them persona of auiMtiuice
and oouaequence, were cited before the ecclesi-
astical tribimal of Robert Blacater, Archbishop
of Glasgow, to answer for their hereticnl opi-

While BO many of the Scottish people were
thuB prepared for the fad vent of the ReformatioD,
aBother cause is to be found in the erecUon of
collies, which did not take place till the com-
mencement of the fifteenth century. The fint of
these was the uuiveiaity of St. Andrews, erected
AiH. 1411. The second was that of Glasgow,
which was esUhlished in 1451, The third was
King's College, Aberdeen, which was not built
till IfiOe. These three inatitntions owed their
existence to the prelates of the respective sees in
which they were established; and their founders
— men who blushed at the ignorance of their
order, and were probably alarmed at the grow-
ing intelligence among the laity, by which the
priesthood would soon have been eclipsed— con-
templated these colleges as the nurseries of a new
clei^ in that learning and civilization by which
their intellectual superiority over the people
might be still retained in spite of secular pro-
greBs. Little, however, did they calculate upon
the effect of learning in its relation to the in-
terests of their church ; and it was from these
univermties, not long after their establishment,
that those Scottish Reformers issued by whom the
doctrines of Rome were everted, and its hier-
archy overthrown.

In this way, Scotland, which had moi
protested against the errors of the Church of
Rome since the days of St. Columba, was pre-
pared and ripened for the SeCormation. The
initiative, in this case, was taken by one who,
from rank and family, an well as character and
accomplishments, was certain to arrest attention.
This waa Patrick Hamilton, a youth of royal
lineage, his father being brother of the Earl of
Arran, and his mother the sister of John, Duke
of Albany. like many others uf his rank, he
waa provided for at the eipense of the church,
having been appointed, even in infancy, to the
rich living of the abbacy of Feme ; but the
studies of his youth, which were directed fo
ancient literature instead of the dry logic of the
schools, having awoke within him a spirit of
quiry, he went, in his twenty-third year, to the
colleges of Germany, became acquMuted with
Luther, Uelanctbon, and Lambert, and embraced
Om Reformed doctrines. He then returned
Scotland, resolved, at whatever hazard, to impart
the religious knowledge he had acquired ; and
•ach was the power of his preaching and apo»-

tolic labours, that the already decaying hierarchy
were troubled at the tidings. It waa necessary
to silence such a formidable antagonist, and the
prieata puiBued their purpose with a treachery,
which showed their full belief in the infamous
axiom, that tiie end sanctifies the means. They
first sent one of their number, who under the
guise of a sincere inquirer, learned from him
enough of his creed to found upon it a charge of
heresy; and that their further proceedings might
be carried on undisturbed, they prevailed upou
the young king (James V.), whose cousin Hamil-
to repair Upon a pleaaure trip or pil-
grimage to the shrine of St. Duthao, in Boes-
sliire. Having thus made sure of ttieir victim,
they courteously invited him to St. Andrews to
a friendly religious controversy ; and after they
luraged him during several days of con-
ference, by their concessions, to reveal his whole
mind, tbey suddenly turned upou him as accusers,
and sent him a priitoner to the castle. In the
trial that immediately followed, the religious
opinions of Patrick Hamilton, which had been
thus extracted, were arrayed against him under
thirteen distinct articles, each of them condemned
by the Church of Rome ; and he waa sentenced
the stake, where his sufferings were protracted
by the inexperience of his executioners. Never
was there a greater blunder committed by the
Rombh hienu-chy than the condemnatjon aud
execution of Patrick Hamilton. By this, they
equally insulted the proud Scottbh aristocracy,
whose order they so daringly invaded, and called
the attention of all ranks to the doctrines for
which so amiable a martyr had suffered. The
indifference of the Scottiiji nobles, or even their
positive dislike to the priesthood, and their aban-
donment of the falling church to its fate, after
the execution of Hamilton, are sufficiently illus-
trated in the subsequent history of Scotland. To
the same cause, we may trace the fact of so many
friars and learned men having abjured, at this
period, the cause of the church, and baoome the
able and effective aucceasors of Patrick Hamilton.
James Beaton, Archbishop of St. Andrews, was
advised from thenceforth to bum heretics in
cellars, tliat the smoke of the flames might not
infect the bystanders with heretical doctrine—
but the advice came too late.

These defections among so many members of
their own body, Increased the alarm of the clergy
tenfold, and in 1638, four priests, along with a
lay gentleman, were burned in one huge pile upon
the Castle-hill of Edinburgh. David Beaton,
the cardinal, was now in the ascendency, and in
his hands the work of persecution was not likely
to lie idle. But, passiug over various scene* of
martyrdom, we can only briefly touch upon that
ofOeorBsWishart This distinguished Reformer,

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[ Relic lox.

the preceptor aa well as predeceBsor of John
Kdox, commenced his public caj'eer, A.D. 1M4,
smd during leas than two jeara his preaching was
so successfii], that he was attended by crowds of
followers, while the attempts to assassinate him
were so frequent, that he was generally preceded
by Knox himself as his body-guard, armed with
a two-handed sword. When he was debarred
from the churches, instead of euffeiing the crowds
to have recourse to violence, he contentedly ad-
journed to the market'place or the fields, where
his preaching could always find an auditory; and
on the plague breaking out in Dundee, he has-
tened thither, to carry instruction and consolation
tothedying. After his treacherouBapprebeDuon
by the Earl of Bothwell, Cardinal Benton, into
whose hands Bothwell sold him, brought Wishart
to open trial. He was condemned and sentenced
as a matter of course; and whan the execution
followed, the cardinal and prelates who had sat
in judgment, viewed the spectacle from the win-
dows of the castle. It was the funeral pile of
their own cause ; their fate was foreshadowed iu
its dying embers. It was generally reported and
believed among the people, that Wishart, in hb
last moments, looked to the place where the car-
dinal was seated in prelatic pomp, and sud, "He
who iu such state from that high place feedeth
his eyes with my torments, within few days shall
be lianged out at the same window, to be seen
with as much ignominy as he now leaneth there
in pride." How this prediction was fulfilled t«
the letter has beeu already related in anotber
chapter.

The removal of Benton, the representative of
the old cause, was immediately followed by the
entrance of John Knox, the representative of the
new ; for among the refugees who fled to the
castle of St. Andrews, to escape the vengeance
of the prelacy, the future Reformer was one. As
the biography of this remarkable man constitutes
so large a portion of the history of the Scottish
Befonnation, a brief notice of him in tliis place
may not be unnecessary.

John Knox was bom in the year IHQH, but his
particular birth-place has not been fully ascer-
tained. He was of bumble parentage, his ances-
tors having been retainers of the house of Hailes;
and OS such, they rendered feudal military service
to the first Earls of Bothwell. Being destined
for the church, John, at the age of sixteen, was
sent to the university of Ola^w, where, after
the usual course of study, he regented ; he also
appears to have studied at the university of St.
Andrews.

Before he had reached the canonical age of
twenty-five, be was admitted into priest's orders;
but an anxious spirit of doubt and inquiry prft-
vented him firom entering into the public duties

of his office, and these investigation s continued
till his thirty-eighth year, when, from serioua
deliberate conviction, he became a Protestant
A choice so considerately made was but the
starting-point of action, upon which he entered
with all his characterisUc ardour; and as the
companion of Wishart, he exposed himself to
all the dangers with which that martyr's career
was continually surrounded. Being now obnoxi-
ous to the clergy, both ss an apostate priest and
a Protestant, bo took refuge in the castle of St.
Andrews,after the murder of Beaton, and during
the siege that followed, he was unanimously in-
vited by the garrison to become their minister.
He trembled and wept at the responsibility of
those sacred duties which he was now to discharge
for the first time, and only submitted after mnch
importunity. In tliis sinj, he commenced his

great mission as a national religious Reformer,
and the commencement was characterized by the
same heroic qualitjes that pervaded bis whole life
to the close. An unbending reprover of guilt
wherever it might be found, he denoimced the
excesses of the garrison, when such a proceeding
exposed him not only to hntred, but personal
danger. A fearless expositor of those truths
which he had attiuned after the research of so
many years, he entered into no compittmise witli
the minor en-ors or apparently trivial observances
of the Church of Rome ; but condemned them all
as inlets of error, and incentives to idoUtry. The
contrast of such preaching to that of his prede-
cessors arrested the people even In his first ser-
mon, and they justly observed, "Others hewed
at the branches of Papistry, but he strikea al
the root to destroy the whole."

»Google

A.D. 1485—1603.1

HIBTOEY OF REUGION.

231

On the auirmder of the caatle of St. Andrewa,
John Kmox bore a full share of thoae hardsLips
iritik which the unfortunate garrison was visited;
for, in express violation of the treatj of surren-
der, he was sent to the French gallejs, where he
laboured as a chained felon for oineteen months.
His captivitj might indeed have been perpetual,
hut for the kind int«rpo(dtiou of Edward VT.,
through which he was set at Itbertj. After
this Knos went to England, where his services
were BO highij appreciated as one of Cranmer's
idnerant preachers, that he was appointed one of
the royal chaptuus, and tempted to settle in
England by the ofier of the bishopric of Roches-
ter. Bat not deeming the Church of England as
yet sufficiently reformed, he rejected the applica-
tion, and continued to labour as a humble mis-
sionar; until the acceswon of Uary; and the
persecution which followed obliged him, in 16S4,
to escape to France. In the following year he
ventored to return to Scotland; but his preach-
iog occasioned such a stir in Edinburgh that he
waa cited to f^pear before a clerical tribunal to
be tried BB an heretic. He attended the summons;
bat justly apprehensive of consequeaces, and
waned by former acts of treachery, the friends
of Knox accompanied him in such numbers that
his terrified judges failed to appear, and he con-
tinued undisturbed a little longer, when he was
once more obliged to leave the country. Upon
his departure the clergy renewed their
and, tuCter a mock trial, condemned him to the
flames, and solemnly burned him in effigy at the
crow of Edinburgh. But Knox himself was safe
in Oeoevs, abiding his time, which anived in
May, 1539, when the religious contest between
Popery and ProteatautiHrn waa about to be de-
cided by other weapons than those of reasoning
and ridicule. The Scottish nobles, who after-
wards were known as the " Lords of the Congre-
gation,* were well aware of the strength which
Knox would impart to their cause from his well-
tried eneigy, talents, and popnlar reputation, and
accordingly they invited him to return and co-
operate with them, pledging themselves to hazard
their lives and fortunes in the establishment of
the Beformation in Scotland. He complied with
the call; and thus, at the advanced age of fifty-
four, and with a constitution naturally wei^,
and impaired by many hardships, John Knox
may be properly uad to have commenced that
task for which his whole life had been a period
of training. Ferhapa there is no record in his-
tory of any individual, who began a great na-
tional work so late in life, and yet accomplished
BO much.

The mere return of Knox to Scotland was the
trumpet-signal for the commencement of action.
He hastened immediately to Perth, the head-

quartera of the Protestants, and therefore the
chief post of danger, and there preached the first
of that series of sermons which were so produc-
tive of great public movements. The wild tumult
that followed, and the destruction of monasteries
id cathedrals with which it was signalized, have
ten mentioned in another department of our
history. The war that ensued between the
Queen-regent Mary and the associated Protes-
tant lords, has also been detailed. On the return
of peace by the treaty of Leith, a parliament waa
convened on the lat of August, 1S60, to setUe
the important question of religion; and the sub-
ject nraa introdaced by a petition from the " ba-
rons, gentlemen, burgesses, and others," craving
a full reform in religion, under the three follow-
ing heads: — 1. That tiie doctrines of transufaetan-
tiatiou, justification by works, purgatory, and
indulgences, and the practice of pilgrimages and
praying to departed saints, should becondemned,
and rendered punishable by statute. S. That,
in consequence of the abuse and profanation of
the sacraments, thronghthecorruptlivesof those
who administered them, as well as those who
partook of them, means should be used that
purity of worship and primitive discipline might
be TGfltored. 3. That the nsnrpatjon of the
whole revenue of the church, by the hierarchy,
might be reformed for the sustenance of a true
ministry, the encouragement of learning, and
support of the poor. That these changes mif^t
be fully accomplished, they craved, after refer-
ring to the notorious dishonesty, injustice, cru-
elty, and oppression of the Popish clergy, that
they should be declared " unworthy of honour,
authority, charge, or core, witiiin the cbnrch oE
Qod," and so, from thenceforth, " never to enjoy
vote in parliament"

In answer to the fint and most important head
of the petition, the Beformed miniatera were re-
quired, by the parliament, to draw out a sum-
mary of Christian doctrine, such as should be
consonant with Scripture, and be litted for gene-
ral establishment This Knox and his aasiHtantB
undertook, and in four short days they produced
their confession of faith. Many have been start-
led by the fact of a national creed being formu-
lated in so short a space; but it should be remem-
bered that this four days' writing embodied the
study of yean, and that the authora had not now
to seek either for thought or expression. On its
being preaented to parliament, the Popish mem-
bers, lay and clerical, were desired to state their
objections, while the Protestant ministers stood
by to answer them. But though solemnly ad-
jured in the name of God, the bishops sat mute,
while the only answer of the laity, deUvered
through the Eari of Athole, and the Lords Somer-
ville and Borthwick, was, " We will believe aa

»Google

£38

niSTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Rkuoiom.

our fathen believed.* And ;et full time for re-
plf had been ^veu, as the meeting for ra^ca-
tton had beea adjourned till the 17tb of August.
On witneasing thia atrange apathy of the Popish
prelates, when thej might have obtained at least
a safe hearing, the earl-mariBchal rose and said,
" It ia long since I had some favour to the truth,
but, praised be God, I am thie dnj fully resolved:
for seeing laj lord bishops who, for their learn-
ing, can, and for their zeal thej owe to the truth,
would, as I suppose, gainaay sjiything repugning
to the same, yet speak nothing against the doc-
trine propounded, I cannot but hold it the very
truth of God, and the contrary to be deceivsble
doctrine.* Before the votes were taken, the con-
fetuioQ was again read and considered, article by
article, after which it was ratified, and the Papal
jurisdiction was abolished.

This important affair being settled, the second
part of the petition, which concerned the purity
of worehip and reformation of discipline, re-
mained nest to be considered; and for this pur-
pose the first meeting of a General Assembly, held
by the Church of Scotland, was convened on the
SOth of I>ecember. The task of drawing up the
form of church polity was committed to those
who had penned the confession; and on the 15th
January of the following year their work was
completed, and ratified by the general assembly,
under the title of the " First Book of Discipline."
Bat it was not received with the same cordiality
as the confession had been; and for this two
causes have i)een assigned. The first arose from
the strictness of life and manners enforced by the
new code, which bore hard upon the licentious-
ness of many, especially among the upper classes.
The second was from the demand which it made
upon the confiscated property of the old church
for the establishment of schools and colleges, and
support of the poor. Although the Book of Dis-
cipline, therefore, was suhBcribed by the greater
part of the nobUity and barons, members of the
privy council, it was not formally ratified by the
conncil itself. 'As it embodied the fundamen-
tal principles of the Scottish Reformation, and
was the origin of the Second Book of Discipline,
an abstract of these principles may here be briefly
stated.

The permanent ofSce-bearers of the church
were specified, as — ^I. The Minister, whose office,
as in other churches, was to preach, administer
the sacraments, and attend to the spiritual wel-
fare of his congregation. 2. The Doctor or
Teacher, who taught theology in the schools
and colleges, or who was set apart to interpret
and illustrate Scripture, and confute reli^ous
errors. 3. The Buling-Elder, who aided the min-
ister in ecclesiastical discipline and government:
and, 4, The Deacon, who superintended the

temporalities of the church, took charge of it>
revennea, and admimstered the fauds collected
for the poor. No person was received into the
first and most important of these offices, until he
received a vocation or call, which consisted in
" election, examination, and admission," the right
of which was stated to lie in the congregation,
who were msde the judges of his " gifts, utter-
ance, and knowledge,* and his fitness to be their
spiritual teacher and guide. Hence the continual
resistance to the imposition of patronage upon the
Kirk of Scotland, and the dissents which it after-
wards occasioned. As the Beformed church
could only muster twelve ministers previous to
the meeting of the first general aaaembly, seven
of these were placed in the most important and
populous towns, while the other five, under the
name of superintendents, were appointed to the
charge, not of a single parish, but a whole dis-
trict, generally comprehending an entire county.
Even here, however, the principle of Prest^te-
rian parity was carefully msiutained, and the
danger of episcopal rule avoided. The ordina-
tion of a superintendent, so long as the office was
continued in the church, did not differ from that
of the other ministers ; hia function was one of
toil and travel, but not of emolument; and he
waa equally liable, with the ordinary ministers,
(o censure, or even to deposition, by the church
courts. Another temporary office which the
paucity of ministers occasioned, was that of the
Reader, and filled by some person who, in that
age of defective education, was able to read the
Scriptures to his more ignorant neighbours, whom
he assembled for the purpose. If he was so much
advanced in religious knowledge and natural
talent as to be able to accompany his reading
with exposition, he was then termed an Exhorter,
and might be finally admitted to the ministry.
The advance of education and the multiplication
of a regular clergy, however, at length made
both superintendent and reader unnecessary, and
therefore these offices were abolished.

In the government of the chnrch and adminis-
tration of its discipline, there were four separate
courts. The first was that of the Kirk-sesaion,
belonging to each congregation, and composed of
its minister, elders, and deacons, that met rego-
larly once a-week, or oftener, if occasion re-
quired. Next WHS the meeting called the Weekly
Exercise, or Prophesying, held in every chief
town, and composed of the ministers, exhorters,
and other educat«d persons of the BurronndiDg
parishes, who assembled for expounding the
Scriptures, and promoting mutual edification.
These assemblies afterwaiile constituted the dat-
«u or regular presbytery. Still ascending in the
, scale, was the Provincial Synod, composed cf the
ministers and delegated elders of one or mora

»Google

A.0. 1485—1603.]

HISTOKY OF RELIGION.

233

counties, that assembled twice ar-year, and where,
at first, the superintvndeut of the district acted
ascoDveDorornioderaUir. And lastly, there was
the General Assembly, composed of ministers and
elders commiaaioued from every part ot the king-
dom, and which generally met twice, and some-
times eveo thrice a-year. Through these diffe-
rent courte every doubtful case was so thoroughly
sifted, that a aatiafactory result was generally
obtained, and an error iu doctrine, however sub-
tile, could scarcely escape undetected and unde-
nounced- This fact was distinctly stated by
King James himself to au English ecclesiastic,
who was eipreaaing his wouder tbat bo seldom
heresy had troubled the good people of Scotland.
'■ni t«U you how, man,' replied thia royal solver
of dilScultiea, with more than his wonted wisdom:
"if it spring up in a parish, there is an elder-
ship to take notice of it ; if it be too strong for
them, the presbytery is ready to crush it ; if the
heretic prove too obstinate for them, he abalt
find more witty heada iu the synod ; and if he
cannot be convinced there, the genera) assem'
biy, I'll warrant you, will not apare him.*

As the Scottish Beformers were aware that the
general neglect of ecclesiastical discipline in the
Bomish church had been a fruitful source of its
crimes, and the principal cause of its downfall,
their chief care was to restore the apostolic rule
to its primitive importance. " As no common-
wealth," they said iu their preamble, " uuii flourish
or long endure without good laws, and sharp
execution of the same, so neither can the kirk of
GcnI be brought to purity, neither yet retained in
the same, without the order of ecclesiastical dis-
tipline, which stands in reproving and correct-
ing of the faults which the civil sword either
doth neglect or maff not punuh.' Its impartial
cfaaract^r and universal application were also thus
Bt*ted;— "To discipline must all the estates within
the realm be subject, as well the rulers aa they
tbat are ruled ; yea, and the preachers them-
selves, aa well aa the poorest within the kirk."
It was upon these just but stringent principles
that they specified the offences which lay within
the cognizance of the church courts, and the
penalties with which they should be visited.
And, truly, the labour to be encountered was not
a small one. The old Romish hierarchy, still
struggling for the mastery, wna to be suppressed;
ita abettors were to be watched and coerced;
and the religious rites, as well aa superstitious
observances which Popery had naturalized among
the people during a course of centuries, aud con-
verted by such usage into a poi-tion of their do-
mestic and festive life, had to be eradicated.
Aod even this was not the worst. The ferocity,
sensuality, and lawlessness of a community whose
ilcsperate recklessness iu crime had made them

Vot. II.

the wonderment and byword of Europe, were to
be superseded by the strict rule of a Christian
life, and a walk and bearing consistent with those
religious privileges to which they laid claim. In
all thia, we may read a full apology for the ex-
cessive strictness with which the early Scottish
church was ruled according to her First and
Second Books of Discipline. We wonder at, and
occasionally we denounce their excessive severity:
but we should previously take into account the
state of society for which they legislated.and the
prevalence of those offences which they con-
demned and punished. We should also call lo
mind the immeuse moral change which this strict
ecclesiastical legislation effected iu so short a
period of time upon the Scottish character and
habits. How different were the people of the
seventeenth century in Scotland from those of
the sixteenth '.

This Reformation, as it so greatly differed froDD
that of other countries, had also its origin in pe-
culiar circumataucea. In Germany, the sove-
reign princes, and iu England a despotic king,
threw themselves into the front of the movement,
and were thus enabled to impart to it that
monarchical character which Protestantism has
retained in these two countries. In Scotland, on
the contrary, the Beformation commenced among
the people, and was carried onward not only in-
dependent, but often in spite of the royal autho-
rity. It was natural, therefore, that it should
possess throughout an essentially democratic or
republican character. Its first champions were
the inferior barons and clei^, by whom the
danger was braved and the battle fought ; and it
was only when the cause was popular, and pro-
mised to be successful, that the higher nobility
unfurled their banners, and assumed the leader-
ship of the conflict. This was doue when l>he
only choice that remained to them was, to be the
leaders of such a national rising or its victims.
Had they resisted, or even stood still, they wonld
have been borne down and crushed beneath that
resistless popular movement, which was now a
stronger element of the national character, than
the old cherished feudalism, or even the pride of
national independence.

Scarcely, however, had the Scottish Reforma-
tion been impersonated in ita kirk, than the hos-
tility of such selfish supporters began most dis-
tinctly to manifest itself. The Bomish church
being overtlirown, au immense portion of the
wealth of the country would revert to the com-
mon treasury, and might be made available for
public purposes. These, as contemplated by
Knox and his brethren, were the maintenaaco
of the clfi'gy, the establishment of schools and
colleges, and the support of the poor. But such
a scheme of allotment was odious to the nobUity,

133

,v Google

23i

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

who looked upon the wealth of the overthrowu
church Ra ao much plunder which should fftU to
the BtroDgest hiuid ; and, accoi-diugly, a scramble
for church loiida and revenues commenced among
them, in which the disinterested scheme of the
Reformer was laughed to scorn, and all but utterly
defeated. The poor, with whom Scotland, more
than any other country, at thia time abounded,
were left to Uieir shifts as before, so that until
the UDion of the two kingdoms in 1706, ScoUand
continued to be a laud overrun and eaten up with
paupera. Such also was the fate of tliat splendid
scheme of oatiooal educatiou which Knox so ar-
dently contemplated. Ue had already seen and
announced the large intellectual character of his
countrymen, and the development of which it
was susceptible 1 and auticipating from thia a
happy futurity for Scotland, he had pleaded for
the establishment of a well-endowed univernty
in every city, and an academy in every town.
But the stintoi edacational institutions were left
just aa the Reformation had found them ; and
those pupils who were dissatisfied with such a
scanty training, were still obliged to repair to the
coUeges of France, Holland, and Italy. But it
was in the miserable allowance for the support
of the new national church that the avaricious
spirit of the men in power was chiefly manifested.
As the Reformed ministers had at first lived upon
their own private resources, or upon the bene-
volence of their flocks, and as they increased so
rapidly that the six ministers which the church
could musterin lOSO had grown into SflS in 1567,
an application was made to the privy council for
the support of a regular clergy in all time coming.
The arrangement made ou this occasion by the
conucil was, that the ecclesiastical revenues should
be divided into three parts, of which two should
be given to the ejected Popish clergy, and the
third part be divided between the court and the
Protestant uiinisters. In this way, the two-thirds
given to the Popish ecclesiastics, and which was
to last only during their lives, was finally ab-
sorbed by the nobles, who, on the death of the
incumbents, appointed creatures of their own to
the livings, of which they themselves drew the
revenues. Aa for the remaining third, which
was to be divided between the court and the Pro-
testant ministers, it is easy to surmise how the
latter body were likely to fare in a money con-
test with tiio former. The officers appointed by
tbe privy council, who, under the title of the
"Conrtof ModiGcatioUi'were to divide this third
into two portaons, and allot to each minister a
stipend according to the circumstances in which
he was placed, were so anxious to gratify the
queen and lords, and so careless of the inter«sla
of the clergy, tbat the latter received a most in-
adequate allowance, whit^h was also most grudg-

ingly and irregularly paid. Such was the com-
mencement of that poverty of the Scottish kirk
which has continued with little modification to
the present day. On this unfair partition of the
ecclesiastical revenues, John Knox might well
exclaim, aa he did, " If the end of this order, pre-
tended to be taken for the sustentation of tiie
ministers, be happy, my judgment fails me ! I
see two parts freely given to the devil, and the
third part must be divided between God and the
devil. ... To these dumb doge the bisbi^n,
10,000 is not enough ; but to the servants of Christ,
that painfully preach the gospel, 100 marks must
suffice ! How can that be sustained?'

The bUhops, as they had not been formally
deprived by parliament, still retained their sees
at the Reformalion, and their succeasotscontiiiued
to be appointed ; but ss such an order was incom-
patible with the nature of a Presbyterian church,
the general assembly soon began to labonr for
its suppression and utter extinction. In 1574 it
was therefore enacted, that the jurisdiction of
bishops should not exceed that of superintend-
ents. In 13T6, the assembly declared the title of
bishop to be common to every one that had n
particular flock over which he had an esped^
charge. In the year following, they ordained
that all bishops should in future be called by
their own names, instead of by those of their
dioceses. In 15H0 they unanimously voted Epis-
copacy to be nnscriptnral and unlawful; and in
1592, the Presbyterian form of the government
of the church by general assemblies, provincial
synods, presbyteries, and kirk-sessions, received
the full sanction of parliament. Bnt every step
thus won was a struggle against the court and
the ruling powers. Such was especially the case
when James VI. ascended the Scottish throne.
The arbitraiy spirit of this royal pedant and pol-
emic, and his principles of king-craft, naturally
made him the enemy of a church so independent
as that of Scotland, while his prospects of the
English crown made him desirous to identify the
churches of both kingdoms, that he might reign
over them with undisputed pre-eminence. " The
bishops will govern the church, and I the bishops,*
was the favourite sentiment he expressed, and the
purpose for which he wrought, in all his anbae-
queut efforts to evert the whole system of Pres-
byterian polity, and establish Episcopacy in its
room. It was in vain that these attempts were
resisted by Andrew Melvil, the Beza of Scotland,
and worthy successor of John Knox ; for Epis-
copacy, fortified as it was both by king and court,
and backed by the example of England, had ob-
tained a stronger political hold than even the
worn-out syalcui of Popery which had been so
lately overthrown. Melvil fled into exile to avoid
u worse doom; and Jonies, thus rid of the most

,v Google

A.D. I4SB— 16M.]

HISTORY OF llELIGtON.

235

formidable of his opponents, CRiried on hie mea-
Mires with a higher iiand than ever. The cha-
racter of hid hostility, and the despotic spirit with
which it was aoininted, were fully evinced by the
acts paased hy a aubaervieut parliament, com-
moaly called the " Black Acts of l.'i84.' On this
occasion, the lords of the articles had been sworn
to secrecy in preparing the meaBures that were
to be laid before it ; and when the members as-
sembled, the parliament was held with cloeed
doors, as if it bad been a meeting of conspirators.
The acta that were passed on this occasion were
worttiy of such an assembly. To decline the
judgment of the king or privy council ill ani/
matter was declared to lie treason ; by which,
the royal supremacy in matters ecclesiastical as
well aa civil, wan established. AH subjects were
prohibited from couveoing any assembly except
the ordinary courts, for the purpose of consutting
or determining on any matter of state, civil or ec-
daiattieal, without the special commandmeat and
license of his majesty — and thus, presbyteries,
synods, and genei^ aasemhliea had no right to
meet without an eipress civil IVairant. The rule
of bishops over the church, and that of the king

through tlie agency of the bisfaopa, was finally
confirmed by enactments which gave to the pre-
lates, and such aa the king might appoint, the
right to settle all ecclesiastical matters within
their diocesea, and which strictly declared that
none should preoume in public or private, by
sermons or convetaation, to censure the conduct
of the king, his council, and proceedings, under
the penalties of treason. Such were the laws en-
acted ill 1S64, a year memorable in the history
of the Church of Scotland, and by the rigid and
arbitrary execution of which its liberties, its very
existence would have speedily been extinguished.
Events afterwards occurred by which James was
obliged to mo<lify or rescind the greater part of
these obnoxious clansea — bnt it was in seeming
only; and this lenity only continued until he bud
strengthened himself with the English throne
and its obedient hierarchy, when he found that
he might legislate for the obnoxious northern
church as he pleased, aa well as requite it for all
the oppositiou he had encountered. The events
by which these various changes were occauoned
have already been recorded iu the civil deport-
ment of our history.'

■ "lliahbbnT'JftI"

JwKTd; tbs Calhullc wh
natcFTWl br Vvt; rroUaUntlApt wu tgtLin BAttljliBbad b^
EUatbath. Tha (idlh of tha aitlon laemad to dapend on tha
IjaraoiiAl incJbuttoHof 1haK>venlf(n. NotwtM tbli idl. An
" " -. - ^ pertecirtbig

mada by thaaa two partlaa to anart Iha rnnat Hcrad ot humui
rl^bta. attackai] by tba moat odloni tyrannj.

"Tht BKp^iui^llon°f thaaa drcunutanoea which haaganenUj
baan gi'an, l> rerj almpla, biit by no moai mtlitu^Uirf. Tha

In fut da^iolki. Thli k'

IU tha Auhlon
i]»d b; Ur. Hunia— to daacrlba tba EngU.b
jtarntb niitur^ u an khaoliita raonareliy
»ibtad]y It appaara Eo a auparflcial okaervar.

ircbf in U

njal aupreniacf. Than waa uolliiug in Eu|
lika that flara ami bloodr oppoaltion which. In FranB,
«f tba rril^loiia bctknia in lla tim ofl^
Wa had naithar ■ Callisnr uor a Majanna; neHbar ■ HoDCDn-
tonr nor an Ivry. No Eugllih dl7 bnvad amnl and Ibinlna
Kjt tha Refctmad dtnlilnaa with tbaqilritof Rochalli^ or tor
Ok Catbotio dootrioea with tha >|rim ot Parti. NaHhar aaot In

bom (ba avraivign. Nallhar sect onld obtain from an advanc
ioTan4gii aran a loIanthHi. Tha Eugllih Prolaitaiita, anai
aarsnl jaanof domlnatkni. lanli down vlth aaanalf a itni^glf
nudaithatimnnriifHUT. Tha CallwUci a(t« baring latalnad
and abqaad Ihalr ohl aaoandeiior, auhmlttad palli '

(ha Tndon

waa, with a firir ooDaaioDal davtallona, a popular goraminfnit,
DDflar tba fbnna of daapoliam. . . . Tha Tudon oommiltad
macj tjTvintcal acta. Bat in thalr onliiuirT deaZinga with tba
pnopla, tb<g> wara not, and aauld not aifclj ba tjianta. . , .

" It ciuuat ba lui'iuaHl ttiat a paupla who had in thair own
hand* the tuaaiu of chocklni tbair prinoaa, woold vdXw ra\j
piiuoa to Impoaa on tfarm a nliglDU ganarallf dataatsd. It la
Bliaiiidlaaiiiiiaaatluit it tlui nation had hacndecldodlrattacbad

Papal aupnuaay. It laaiLualijr ahaord to mnppcaa that If tho
nation bad baan ualDui fin Ilia anclnjt nllclun, Ellzabath oonld
haia Ratorad tha Protaatant rhnicb. Tba truth la, that tha
pea|>la wara doC diapoaad to eiigags in a atniggla Bther fOr tba
naw or tor the old duotrtnaa, , , In plain worda. tbef did nrpt
think the diJTeTenca bat«aan the hoallla ncti worth a ttrnggla.
Tliara waa nndonbtadlr a miotu Prot4taiit paitjanda caalooa
Oitballo party. Bnt both tlH« |iattlaa, wn bailer^ wan varr
■mall. Wa donbt wbnlhet both togatbar made up. at tha tlma
of MaiT'ida«th, a twentieth part of IhinatkiD. The mnalnlng
iwot^lnic

jurpoaaot giving toeLtliar

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

CHAPTER XXI.— HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

FROM THE ACCESSION OF HENRV VII. [A.D, IMS), TO THE J>EATH OF ELIZABETH (a.D. 1603).

InctMM of ihe itijil knthoritr b; tha

B Nsthtrlaudj^Ea-

D of feuJaliun—AbMlnte nila of Uia Tndon— Tbnr dcfpotie
at tba Stiurti— ThB ooorti of SUr CbamlMr >iul High ConunuuDn —
Frognn of th« Hktioiuil oommBn*— Coontriei ovat whioh it aitended— Comniaroiml porta of EogUnd— Dii-
COTST? of Amerio* — Ita affacta on Eogliih eommarcial entarpriaa — Introdaotioa of forei£a worl
iii»nQf»otiir»—Irapro» anient of tha Mtion*! niij— L*wb ngunit niuiy— Ti«do with th- "-"■—'
tabUahmBQt of tha Roysl Eieliinge in London— Engliah m»Titinia Jiieovarlaa— ColoniiitiOB of nair couDtriei
— SUte of couunerea in the raign of Eliiabeth— Intaroal tnfflo of tha oountrj— Eogliih fwra— Agricnltu™!
pTOgreat—Ttimt uid thair ocouiBiiti — Uodaa of liTing imonj tha ■gricnltn™! cUiMa— ImprovamaDt of theit
condition— C«u«« of tha improfeioant— Arohitaotnro of the pariod— Introduction of the 'Ihidor itjlB— Ita
paonliuitiaa— NoUe mansioa*— Thair chiat ahkruteriitita—Huuicmi of tha krittooruy- Thair ratinaaa and
fomitura— Me*li »nd b»nquat«— Tnoraiaod rafinament and iplendour of a fairt— Table obiervauM*— Intro-
doDtioa of coaohaa into England— Drese and personal ornamenU of the Elizjibethao period— Rich and eitrj-
vtgant atjle of aiirtocratis life- Rapien M part of ooatuma— Oroiith and atata ot London— Ita itraata— Ita
boildinga— Fnrnitnca of the hooaei— London 'prantieaa— Civio banqneta— Stjla of domastio life in Idodou —
Uaa of tohacm— Pablic iporta and gamea— Variooa model of bnnting — Horsa-raoaa—Coet-figU ting— Bear-
baiting — Bell ringing — In-door aporta — Dancing— Card-plajing — Herellai — Oainea with dice, &c.— Failirali
— Jojani obaervanoea of Hayxda;- The Hafpola— War of Pnrilaaiun agfnat manwlea— Tha plaj of Bobio

Hood Obearvauoea of St. Valantine'i Day— Of Nov Ysar'i Dajr— Annivenariea of the nationat aainti— Other

nint^ daj«— Obaarranaea of Hidanmmer Era — CereDionj of letting tha watoli — DafectiTe lighting of tha
■tneti of London— London watohnian of tba period— Calabration of Eaatar— Eaatar liolidafi— -Chrutmaa —
Lord of Uierule— ChriBtmasaiiHuaa— Eingof tiieBaan- Popaof FooLa—Boj Biihop— Plough Uonday— Fro-
graia oE learning— Eitabliabaiaut of nev eoUagaa — Effeota of tba Reformation on learning— Learned men of
England — Learned ladiaa — EngUafa poata of tbia period — Stephen Hawea — Alaiander Baifcla; — John Skalton

William Bo;— John Haywood- Lord Surrey, and Sir Thomaa Wyatt — Other poata— Edmund Spanaer-

Hii poetry. Condition of Scotland— State of ita oommerce— Of ita ahip-building- Style of living of tba
Bcottiah ariatooraay— -Their oaitlen— Domaatic life of tha Soota — Coatume — Slow progreM of refiuament in
Boottiib liTing— Sporta of Scotland— Miracle and myatary playa— .lotiva gainaa- Football, Jfco. —Fanny weddioga
— Funeral obaarrancei — Progren of learning in SeotUnd — Eitabliihinent of King'e College, Aberdeen — Of
Edinburgh univenity- High Sohool of BJinbnrgb— Courae of iDitruction at tha uniTanitiai— Leamad Soot*
of the period— Erakina of Dun— John Enoi- Andrew Uelvil— Oeorge Buchanan— Scottiib poet*— William
Dunbar— Oawin Douglaa— Sir Darid Linduy— Jamea T. Condition of Ireland- Unchaugwi atata of the
people — Theii barbaritm oonflnnad by the Engliab conqneat — Continued rebellion of tba Iriib — Their lore of
newa and gambling — Their model of warfare— Sufferingi endured in their roTolli— Clanee of Iriih aociety^
Thair chiet»— Moie of electing and inaugurating a ohief— Brehon lawa— Tha Eric — Style of tiring among the
ohiefi-CoeheringB— Coign and liiory- Patriarthat ayatem of thair govenunent— Foat«nhipa— OCBoa of
foitar- father— Filaaa or barda— Their poetry- Iriah aebonla- Priaala— Qallowglanai and keras— Their modaa
of warfare and their weapona- The tie of goBupred— Uomeiitio life of tha Iriah- Their ooatuma— Cookery and
diet— Strange and barbaroua diihea — Their drink*.

I HE first effect of the Buppression
of feudaliHin in Snglaud was the
I of the royal authority,
u the ioevitable result of
the destruction, or, at leaxt, the
BUBpenaion, of that middle or bal-
andngpowerby which the despotism of the king
and the democracy of the people had been alter-
nately held in check. The conflict now lay between
the monarch and hia Bubjecta — between the one
man who ruled with unchecked and unlimited
authority, and the massea who had not yet fully
learned their own power, or the mode of using
it. In this way, the one man was more than a
match for the many. But, besides this, the re-
storation of the old noliHity, or the creation of a

new, was an exercise of regal authority of which
the Tudor dynasty could largely avail thero-
selves, in aurrounding their throne, not with a
hostile and rival, but a grateful and subservient
aristocracy; for the new nobles were not slow to
learn, that the same power which had made,
could also unmake them at pleasure. But a
third source of power which the new dynasty
poBseaaed, lay in the transition state which the
religion of the country was now uudergoing, and
the appreheoaion of a coming change. Was the
long established creed of England to be estab-
lished in gi-eater permanency than ever ; or be
left to struggle unaided against that formidable
Lollardiam, which was so soon, under the name
of Protestantism, to shake every kingdom of

»Google

A.O. 1485— 1(

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

237

Europe, and effect ft nnireraal rerolntion I This
question was of inferior importance in Scotland,
where, as we have seen, the Icing was nothing
more than the chief nobleman of the state ; and,
accordingl3r, when the crisis arrived in tliat coun-
trf, the people conld proacritw the old church
and build up a new, not only without, but against
the will of the sovereign. But very different
was the case in England. There, the r^ol power,
founded in conquest and established hj centu-
ries of rule, could still control evei7 movement ;
and of this the two parti^ of religionists showed
that thej wera conscions, by the aolicitnde with
which they watched the royal sentiments, and the
price they were willing to pay for the royal con-
currence. This was especially the case when the
outbnrat of the Reformation brought the ques-
tion to full issue in England; and thus, while
Henry Till, was enabled tn eh&nge tlie creed of
the country Hay after day according to his own
caprices, and punish every one who withheld his
assent, Elizabeth was able to form and finish
that eccleuastical polity, and those forms of wor-
ship, which have continued in full authority to
the present hour.

It is in these causes collectively that we are to
understand the wondroos power of the Tudors,
and the readiness of the nation to yield to it.
Withont these, general readers are nnable to
understand bow the descendants of an obscure
Welsh gentleman should have obtained, and that,
too, BO late as the sixteenth century, an amount
of influence, and nnreatrained authority of rule,
which the English people hod never accorded to
the ablest and proudest of the Plantageuets.
During the whole of the present period, the peo-
ple sought a ruler, and even religious opinions a
leader, and in both cases, the head of the state
was recognized as the true and legitimate autho-
rity. As if this was not enough also, law was
invoked to sanction what the crisis demanded,
and the nation was so willing to concede; and
these laws form a curious episode in the legis-
lative history of England. Thus, when Henry
Vin. divorced the unfortunate Catherine and
married Anne Boleyn, it was enacted, that if any
one by word, writing, or deed disturbed the royal
rights of the king, or did anything derogatory to
the rights of Queen Anne, or to her issue in their
title to the crown, such offence should be high
treason. Moreover, if any one by words only,
shoald utter anything to the peril of the king, or
the slander of his marriage with Queen Anne,
or the slander or disherison of her issue by the
marriage, he should be held guilty of misprision
of treason. These statutes were repealed on the
death of Anne, but they were renewed in favour
of Jane Seymour, whose offspring by the king,
should then be any, were now to succeed to the

throne; while failing these, Henry was empow-
ered to appoint a sucobbsot by letters-patent or
by wilt— and that none might be ignorant that
Mary and EliziUjeth were henceforth bastardized,
it was made high treason Ut declare Henry's mar-
riages with Catherine and Anne to have been
good and lawful, or e^en directly or indirectly to
accept, take, jadge, or believe such a declaration.
These were bnt specimens of the despoUc enact-
ments which his several marriages occasioned.
Of a still more extravagant description were the
veering and contradictory statutes which he
made in the articles of religious belief, by which
Papist and Protestant suffered at the same
stake; and the title he assumed of "Henry
VIII., by the grace of Ood, King of England,
Fiance, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, and
of the Church of England and also of Ireland,
on earth, the Supreme Head," while the attempt
to deprive him of this title amounted to the
crime, and was to be visited with the penalties
of high treason. To laws like these, the enact-
ments that were passed confirming his irrespon-
sible and unlimitnl right of rule, were nothing
more than natural consequents; and therefore
it was decreed, that when the emergency was
sudden, and a parliament could not be conve-
niently called, the king, with advice of his coun-
cil, "might set forth proclamations, with pains
and penalties in them, which were to be obeyed
as if they were mode by an act of parliament.'

Amidst this spirit of abject adulation, it was
fortnnoto for the kingdom that Elizabeth had
neither husbands to behead, nor children to dis-
inheriL Still, however, sncb wsa tlie despotism
of her rule, and the success of her measures, that
both parliament and people were willing to con-
cede to her the same despotic authority that had
been granted to her predecessor. This was
shown in the parliament assembled a.d. 1601,
when the propriety of certain patents granted to
courtiers by royal gift was called in question.
In this case, it was declared by the advocates of
royal rule, tliat absolute princes, such as were
the sovereigns of England, were a kind of divi-
nities; that their prerogative was neither to be
canvassed, nor disputed, nor examined, as front
its nature alone it could admit of no limitation ;
and that the queen had two powers over the law,
one restraining, and the other preventive, so that
she might set free what was limited by stotnte,
or restrain that which hod been proclaimed to be
free. Nay, it was even added, that this royal
power could not only insert clauses in any
statute, but make void any claose it had itself
inserted. Fortnnateiy for such a delicate discus-
sion, the queen received this appeal against the
patents favonrably, and forthwith annulled them,
upon which the gratitude of the parliament knew

,v Google

238

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social E^'atb.

no boundH. They declared her mtwMge on thin
occa^on to be a very gospel, and compared her
to the Divine Being himaelf, in coafeniag ble»-
iagn upon her people, exercising the qniOity of
"reatraining grace," and showing herself to be
like the Divinity, "all truth." This fulsome
address weis presented by the speaker, attended
bjr eighty members of parliament

It is evident, however, that all this abject
obedience could not be lasting. It was contnuy
to tlie spirit of the English people, kud to all
they had hitherto done and suffered in vindica-
tion of their political rights. And besides this,
the conunons, freed from the oppression 'of the
aristocracy, had been gi-adually learning their
own strength, and only waited the opportunity
to put it forth. That opportunity soon came, by
the succeasion of the Stuart tu the Tudor dyussty,
and the change from the rule of the energetic .
Elizabeth to that of the imbecile James. As if,
too, this had not beeu enough, James must needs
provoke tlie conflict by becoming the aggressor,
and prating about those Divine rights of sove-
reignty, which he whs utterly unable to make
good. It was but a natural sequence, that the
oppressive government of the present period
should be followed by the reaction oC the ueit,
and that both should ultimately settle down into
that temperate mouaruhy, and thos»equal rights,
which BO happily constitute the main element of
thp British constitutiou.

Before dismissing this part of our subject, con-
nected with the goveruinenC of EugUod during
the present period, we cauuot omit the mention '
of two courts of law, which were afterwards
destined to be names of dread in the history of
England. These were the 8tar Chamber and
the Court of High Commission.

Originally the Star Chamber was nothing but
the council of the Kings of England, sssembled
for the trial of criminal cases; and the court re-
ceived its name frotu the place where it usually
met, which was the chancre ch* ettagert. At
first, it had been a powerful instrument in the
hands of English sovereigns, by which, they could
confiscate or doom to death at pleaaura, until the
increasing restrictions upon the royal authority
reduced it to comparative harmlesauess. From
this condition, however, it was raised by Henry
VII., who loved money, and was not scrupulous in
the mode of acquiring it. Recognizing in this
court of Star Cliamber a convenieut means for the
imposition of fine and confiscation, he remodelled
it, and hraught it into more vigorous action tlian
ever. The cause stated for its restoration was
the imperfect administration of justice by the
midtjpticatton of bribes, and the discontent and
riot which such a course occasioned. To reform
these evil^ aa well as those that originated from i

cormpt or inefficient juries, the statute of Hent;
Vll. ordained, "that the chancellor, treaanrer,
and privy seal, or two of them, calling to them
a bishop and a temporal lord, being of the
council, and the two chief-justices, or, iu their
absence, two other justices, upon bill or infor-
mation put to the chancellor for the king, or any
other, against any person for any misbehaviour
above-mentioned, have authority to call before
them, by writ or privy seal, the offender* and
others, as it shall seem fit, by whom the truth
maybe known; and to examine and punish after
the form and elfect of statutes thereof made, in
like manner as they ought to be pnnished, if
they were convicted after the due order of the
law." Such was the new form of the Star Cham-
ber, as modelled by Henry VII., and sanctioned
by an abject parliameuL Aa may easily be seen,
it gave to him and his successors an almost ab-
solute power over the lives and property of his
subjects, and it continued ilfl despotic rule dnring
this and the following period, until the revolu-
tionary storm nroee and swept it away.

The Court of High Commission originated at
a later period, and for a different purpose. It
dated from A.D. 1559, when one court was esta-
blished for the ecclesiastical province of Cantei^
bury, and another for that of York; ami was in-
tended not for secular objects, but the establish-
ment of tlie Reformation. On this account, as
it was wholly a spiritual court, its members con-
sisted entirely of the clergy, and their commission
was, to suspend or deprive unworthy clei^men,
and proceed by church censure, imprisonment,
or other legal inflictions, against all who opposed
the Reformed principles and ordinances. This
was not all, for they were afterwards empowered
to visit aud reform every kind of error, heresy,
and schism iu the towns, a)kd prosecute their in-
quiry not only by juries and witnesses, but by
"all other means and ways that they could de-
vise.' Here, then, was the establishment of an
inquisition, and we can easily guess the nature
of its proceedings. It was an unlimited power
vested in the hands of churchmen, aud for the
accomplishment of au end that never limits itaelf
to half measures. The tyrannous rule of this
court, not ouly in spirituals but temporals, under
the direction of laud and Strafford^tbe prisons
it filled, and the victims it impoverished, mutila-
ted, or brought to the scaffold — will always show,
that even the advancement of religious truth itself
is not to be intrusted to men, however just or
righteous, when they are armed with irrespon-
sible power to coerce and punish.

During the whole of this period, the commer-
cial interests of England were advancing with an
always accelerating pace.' Indeed, it could not

■ nU H poUUcsl

,v Google

I. 1485—1603.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

well bave beea otlierwise, not only from the cha-
racter of the sovereigns who had now aucceeded
to the Eoglish throne, but the new world that
WBB opened op to commercial enterprige through
the diaooTeriee of Columbus and his suaccMors.
The peM«ful reign of Henry VII., as well aa bis
money-loving diapoeitiou, induoed him to turn
his att«iition to the important subject oC national
trade and manofactares, which he regarded as
the best source for the supply of hia own ex-
chequer ; and although some of his enactmente,
especially against usury, by which the taking of
iuteiBBt waa meant, were mariced by the inex-
perienc* and narrownesa of the times, old cou-
mttrctaJ treaties were renewed, aiid new ones
formed, by which tite greatai- part of Europe was
laid open to English traffic. This range of action
compriaed the following countries aud porta: —
Deomarit, Sweden, Norway, Pisa, Florence,
Venice, Spain, Seville, Portugal, France, Brittany,
N'onnandy, Dansig, Eaatland, and FriesUnd.
The chief English export to these places still con-
tinued to be wool, either in its natural state, or
DMde into cloth. During this reign also, in ad-
dition to the woollen nianufoctui-e, that of silk
ma introduced into England, not however in the
fonu of weavii^, but knitting, and was carried
on by females, who were called "silk-women.*
This kind of manufacture, besides, wait ex-
tremely limited, and the chief articles made by
it were "ribbons, lacea, girdles, corses, cauls, aud
coraoB of tiasnea or points." The principal cora-

tk Bi^iih, ud It wu tiwa Out tha WD
IDl diRrllHtion iu ths iDaUi of Fnnot. knd tur umbu-kiitJini in
th* XtdftaiTviaAU poitc. ftir othsr quirtan. tt b likolj thftl
BghIhiii hu u nlrrpH tor tha EngUih of tl» ptadaeUon* oT
tin LiTuit eouigiwd U OnU BrlUin. Ths vlos of Bordauu
ftannad m caiiidmtbta Bjtkli of nporX- Bdwtxd [- f^Tountl
■1m IstndaeUon at tbem Into Englud in ISM, HkEnj: onlf, *•
antqddtjf.apaaBTtbeptpI.'' Andistln; " Enclaw) look nu
fnia pvt diuinc the MliUls Afm in the Lorut tndt, *nd

one day ihB •ooJd lonl it

rt floold ftmiih onlj imw
d piltrj. PonJgiHn bmvgbt bar

mercial towns in England during this time ap-
pear to have been Loudon, Coventry, Norwich,
Chester, Worcester, Exeter, York, Bristol, Bouth-
ampton, Boston, Hull, and Newcastle-npon-Tyne.
The progress of commerce, indeed, which depends
aomuch upon freedom of action, WBSSO hampered
at the outset by those corporate privileges that
confined the carrying on of moat trades aud
handicraft professions, to such sa were fre^ of
the corporation or members of a guild, that siime
of the oldest of these towns were even abeady
falling into decay. This was especially the case
with Coventry, York, Chester and lAncast«r,
lincoln and Winchester, where it was complained
that the streets were deserted, and the houses
falling to decay, in consequence of persons un-
privil^ed repairing to other towns where no
such restrictions existed. As an offset, however,
to this evil, the liitherto obscure villnges of Man-
chester and Liverpool were fast riiung into that
importance which was afterwards to distinguish
them as the great commercial aud manufacturing
cities of England.

It was during the reign of this king that au
event occurred which might have had a fearful
influence upon the commercial history of the
country. This was the arrival in England of the
brother of Columbus. When the great discoverer
of America had convinced himself that immense
regions were still in existence, and but awaited
the search of a skilful and daring explorer, he
not only repaired to different courts in the hope

nrtriotad nndsT the TaJon ud Bloart.. M. Dsppiiig uuts

» MIU .Itant. IQ Din.pli.g-. HUUi» d. 0.«»™ »ir, U

ifl«< tf f B-n.j-. w> l«m lh.t ■• . note i. rtlll pwBTBl n™

U» boiwbold cf tb. King or Enflud, Brtt III., u Boxlwu.

trie* >n n>i»d] K. tr«d. in En^ud with the d-Ut- ud wh

•mImiBf at llout[»Ui«r, sot onlj twaotj pimt at >ilk Uolb

other, to ntail mener'i wua ud ■piosn, sod bnlj Id sipoit

ud imi o( wM elDth, bnt fonhar, IhiH foardi of prnerrM

mnchudiH bonght In EogLud. on lilnple paTBUnt of mutomi

paid b; the« nMTchanti, oUaflf on wooU aod mklu, and cm

.?iiii7mfirijiffrplflN««n>n™nt;»th»l Ih> king hud to Hiid

Impoilad wax, nrlst ololh, ud «J»r artitda [Tid. il. p. S3g|.

U VoBtfHlliv tor what OUT now bg hHl br the poorart Ehildnn,

ThUft

(vnrtffiTiUi aBDti]T7." I

at the eai-UlT aouiHiin ware llkelj Id pndlct,

pnnnatad them. "About the middle of the

■(ADX, whlf:h

tion of Englldi dtoUu. SiD» Sdwird I[I. had Hat fbr and
pnlmlad the wsiten of Tluden, thn EngUib cloth uuafuctnn
hud bean hnnijht to perfeotioo. Innead of oonUaning to ibU
raw woola to foniigDBTa, and to boj from thorn the flue oloUu
thaj bad matbi from thoee wooli, tha Bngliih themeelTei made
fine clolha, which wnra aiparted bj the Oenuin mairiianU alone

ilnsi the pioUbltioB of tha ImportaUou <a
13S1, eipoita and impotta iff (ufeign Tueele
lod, BnaUy, eo &t did Utarj VII., Lotd
g. depart trom the wlae pollt^ of Edwank
negaged b; treatj to aend toUw pott otPiaa.
the wool nqnlred bj the Florsntlne mana-
trntih IlHni lo no otiier natiou aiceptluf
da Cotinufa, tc, ml. II. pp 33$-3l<l-

»Google

240

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

of obtainiDg rojal aid to fit out an anuuneDt of
discover;, but seat his brother Bartholomew to
Henrjr VII. upon the some mission. Bartholo-
mew was captured on his vojage to Gnglsnd by
pirates, and did Dot reach London till after long
delaj ; sod during the interval, Ferdinand and
Isabella of Spain had acceded to the proposola of
Christopher, and supplied him with the required
aid. In this waj, the paralysis of iodustrjr, as
well Its the teiribls accumulation of national guilt
which the useless gold of America entailed upon
Spain, were happily escaped by England, and her
own native energies left free and untrammelled.
The discovery of a new world, however, eould
not be effected without stirring up a kindred
eniuIatioD, and Henry VII., as far as his parsi-
mony would allow him, became a candidato in
the competition. In 1496 he intrusted a small
armament to John Cabot, a Venetian, and his
three sons, for a voyage in quest of unknown
countries, and the result was the discovery of
the coast of Labrador. This was but a trifling
achievement in an era so fraoght with discoveries,
more especially as the exploration of Cabot was
never of any paiticular use to England. It was
not indeed in this way that she was bi be bene-
fited by the nautical enterprise of the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries, in which she was left far
behind. She had only to await her time, when
her own superior industryand perseverance would
win from their present possessore these fertile
realms and islands, and torn them to their pi-O'
per account.

If the peaceful reign of Heniy VII., and the
caution with which he avoided the search after
remote El Dorados in an age of such adventure,
were favourable to the development of natural
industry and the healthful increase of manufac-
tures and commerce, the result was mot« favour-
able still under the administration of his succes-
sor. On his accession to the throne, Henry VIII.
lost no time in squandering the immense hoard
which his father had so avariciously gathered ;
and although he sought nothing further in this
proceeding than his own gratification, the circu-
lation of such a capital gave that stimulus to
trade which ready money is always sure to im-
part. At the tame time, the love of luxury and
rich attire which such an example introduced,
was naturally caught by his courtiers, from whom
it descended to the middle classes; anil thus,
while every kind of rich cloth wm imported from
abroad in quantities hitherto unprecedented, fo-
reign workmen in every kind of manufacture ra-
[mired to London, and introduced that skill in
workmansliip which our countrymen afCerwnrds
carried to such perfection. Uf course, tliis intro-
iliictinn oonM not he effected in the first instance
without ro'ising the national jualousy ; mid not

[Social Stats.

only bitter complaints were the consequence, but
desperate riots, iu which the foreign workmen
were exposed to the peril of a general massacre.
As this hostile feeling on the part of the native
manufacturers still continued, a soothing measure
«ras attempted eight years afterwards, by which
it was decreed, that no stranger, bom out of the
English domiuions, should take any apprentice
who was not a native, under a penalty of £10 ;
and that he should not keep more than two foreign
journeymen at the same time. In foreign trade,
the Netherlands was still the great resort of the
English mercliantB, the chief emporium of whidi
was Antwerp, where English wool and ctotha
were sold, and every kind of foreign commodity
purchased in return. As the continental wars
of Henry VIII., however, subject«d this com-
munication to several interruptions, the English
merchants endeavoured to repair the evil, not so
much by attompting to discover new countries
for themselves, as by trading to those already
discovered. In this way, Guinea and Brazil
became trading marts, in addition to the porta
that were frequented in Europe and Asia ; but
these new experiments, which were afterwards
to be BO successful, were at first prosecuted with
extreme caution. The English merchanta also
still continued to use foreign vessels and crews
in preference to their own shipping, when the
voyage was supposed to l>e attended with peculiar
difficulty. The reign, however, of Heury VIII.,
unprofitable though it was to ttie kingdom in
other respects, was signally advantageous in pro-
moting naval skill and enterprise among hissub-
jects — and for tliis, at least, ho will ever deserv*
agrat«ful commemoration in our national history.
He carried his ideas of stateliness and magnifi-
cence into ship-building, so that the vessels con-
stnicted by his orders were tlie largest that had
hitiierto l>een launched from an English dock-
yard. Of these, the Regent, built at Woolwich
in 1G12, hsa been particnlariy commemorated.
It was of IQOO tone burden, and carried TOO sail-
ors, soldiers, and gunners ; and when this ship
WDS blown up, with all its crew, in a naval en-
gagement off Brest, only a few months after it
had put to sea, he caused another stJIl larger to
be built In its room, called the Henry Uract lU
/fiett. By the royal navy which he thus created,
amounting to IS,SOO tons, he wan nnconscioualy
prepari ug for that fearful tug of war which the
Spanish Armaila soon afterwards occasioned.
But Henry in these iaijui-tant labours did not
exclusively confine himself to siiij)- building. He
nlso instituted the first navy office witli its various
functionarie8;established the "Corporation of th»
Trinity House of Deptfonl," wliich he also ex-
tended to Hull and Newcastle; and originated
the uiival store-houses and yards of Deptford

,v Google

*.DlI48S-1603.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

S-ll

mad Woulwicli. He also erected the first pier at
Dorer, and cauaed the havens and portH of Fly-
month, Dartmouth, Teij^moath, Falmouth, and
Fowey, to be repaired aod kept ui>. It is inter-

na HnsT Qiu

— From a plelnt* in GnonvEoh Dn^LU.

tatiag to notice that the two worst kingt of Eng-
lish history — John and Henry VIIL — wet* the
foondera and creatorB of the English navy.

Duiing the following reigns, l^glish commerce,
which had entered upon a new era, mainly occa-
dooed hy the discovery of a new world, and the
tea thonsand wants which it had created, went
onward with a strength and steadiness which the
minea of Peru and Mexico, and the wealth of Or-
mnz, f^ed to impart to Spain and Portugal.
The Newfoundland cod fisher}-, into which the
Eo^h entered in 1S36, was encouraged by Ed-
ward TT., and exempted from the levies which
had been imposed upon it, so that it quickly grew
into a source of national profit ; and in ISM, the
&igliah Russia Company was incorporated by a
charter of Queen Uary, in consequeuce of the
encouragement given to tmfiic with England by
the Muscovite sovereign, Ivan Tnssiiiviteh, other-
wise known as "John the Terrible." The Bteel-
yanl Company, a corporation of Oerman or
Hanseatie merchants, residing ui England, and
poancsned of exclusive privileges, hy which they
held a monopoly in certain branches of trade, was
abolished, as sabversive of the necessary freedom
of merchandise ; and the advancement of the
English merchant-adventurers promoted in its
TVom, by which native activity and enterprise
weT« more fully called into exercinc. But in Rpite
of this growing liberality, the laws against usury,

TOL.II.

01-tlie taking of inl;erest,contimied to be repeated,
as a crime odious in the sight of God, and hurt-
ful to the welfnre of man. Ten per cent, had
hitherto been allowed as a lawfid rate of intarest,
but in the reign of Edward VI, this
permission was repealed, and a law
enacted, that "whoever shall hence-
forth lend any sum of money for any
manner of nsury, increase, lucre, gain,
or'interest to bo had, received, or hoped
for, over and above the anm so lent,"
was not only to forfeit the amount of
the loan, but to suffer fine and impri-
sonment according to the king's plea-
> Bure. It ia perhaps unnecessary to add,
that this unnatural law only A{^p:avated
the evil it was meant to cnre. Mer-
chants from the first had found out
what legislators as yet did not under-
stand, that traflic could not be carried
on, or mercantile credit mtUntained,
withont such accommodations, and
that a "fool who lent out money gratis *
was not to i>e found in those places
" where merchants most do congregate.
The obnoxious statute, after a twenty
years' trial, was repealed ; but though
ten per cent was once more made the
established rate of interest, all beyond
this was branded with the name of usury, and
made liable to the former paina and penalties.

Ail this mercantile progress, however, had
been but a prelude to that which it made during
the reign of Elizabeth; and the impulse im-
parted by her able administration to every branch
of political and
intellectual life,
by which England
started at ones
from boyhood in-
to adolescence, is
especially observ-
able in the com-
mercial depart-
ment of our his-
tory. The navi-
gation laws, which

early as the latter
part of the twelfth
century, prohibit-
ing all exports or
imports in any
other than Eng-
lish vessels, were
rescinded in her first parliament, as productive
of national jealousies and diaeensions, and injuri-
ous to the true interests of commerce ; and in
their stead, a slight tax was imposed upon car-

ID.— Pram tha original in

UT

,v Google

S4S

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statk.

goes imported or eiported by foreign shipping.
This was of itself mifiicient to expand, id an im-
menw ratio, the sphere of English tralfic ; aud
the effect of the impulse was manifested in the
qiuutities of English wool and cloth consigned
to the fairs of Holland and the Netherlands. Of
these commodities, there was a trade to both
countries amounting to /2,400,000 annuallj — ou
immense sum comp&red with its rate in the pre-

Tmi bauiH Hdvu ok Bicbahqk, AitTwmr.

sent day. This most lucrative trade may be
better understood by the following extract from
the account given of it by Guicciardim, nephew
of the celebrated historian, who lived in the
Netherlands, and onlj described what he knew
and witnessed: — "To England,'' he says, "Ant-
werp sends jewels and precious stones, silver bul-
lion, quicksilver, wrought
nlka, cloth of gold and
■ilver, gold and silver
thread, CMublets, grograms,
■pices, drags, sugar, cotton,
cummin, galls, linens fine
and coarse, serges, demi-
ostadeB, tapestry, madder,
hope in great quantities,
glass, salt-fish, metallic and
other merceries of alt sorts
to a great value, arms of all
kinds, ammunition for war,
and household furniture.
From England Antwerp re-
ceives vast quantities of fine
and coarse dr*peries,fringea,
and other things of that
kind to a great value, the
finest wool, excellent saSroD
in small quantities, a great quantity of lead
and tiu, sheep and rabbit akins without num-
ber, and various other sorts of fine peltry and

leather, beer, cheese, and other sorts of provisions
in great quantities; also Malmesey wines, which
the English import from Candia." In this city
was also an English bourse or exchange, to which
merchants of various countries repaired for an
hour every morning and evening, accompanied
by brokers and interpreters, and bargained for
those articles of Eijgiish produce, which they after'
wards re-sold in the marketK of Italy and Ger-
many. As an English exchange, however, was
still more necessary at London than at Antwerp,
this want was soon supplied, and that, too, not
by public subscription, but the princely liberality
of A single merchant. This was Sir Thomas
Gresbam, who perceiving the inconvenience oF
the usual mercantile place of meeting, which was
in Lombard Street, in the open air, resolved to
build a covered walk for the purpose, similar to
that of Antwerp. His only demand upon the
city on this occasion was for a site; and when
this was readily granted, he erected upon it iu
1667, a stately edifice of brick, roofed with slate,
which, by the command of the queen, was pro-
claimed with the sound of trumpets and the
voice of heralds, "the Boyal Exchange.'

It was now full time that England should enter
upon that track of disoovery which other nations
had so successfully opened; and the fiiat experi-
ment tried during this reign was the attempt to
find a new passage to India. This was commenced
in 1067 by MarUn FVobisher, who set sail upou
the bold adventure with no better armament than
two barks of twenty-five tons each, and a pinnace
of ten tons. He entered the strait leading to
Hudson's Bay, thenceforth called Frobisher's
Strait, and took possession of the neighbouiing

auuui'i RoTU EicsAiai. Lomxnt.— FroiB ■ prini hi tbt CiwU PwuiuiL

coast iu the name of the queen, but was unablr
to proceed further from sickness among his crew.
A second voyage which he made in 1077, with

»Google

K 1485—1603.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

243

more ample means, waa not, however, in queet of
fui Indian passage, but of gold, with which it was
thought the 00imtt7 he had discovered abonnded,
but which was never found. A third voyage,
which be made in 1576, with fifteen ships, was
for the discovery of a nortb-west passage, to which
the strait of his own name was thought to lead,
as well as a search for gold, but in eithar case his
attempt was unsucceseful. His first voyage, in*
deed, althoagh with such humble means, was bis
most successful, by the islands and coasts it en-
abled him to discover, ss well as an entrance into
the Polar seas. Another adventurous navigator
of the same period was Sir Fmncis Drake, who
left England in ISTT, with the double purpose of
discovering new countries and plundering the
Spaniards, with whom we were still at peace; and
in both of theae attempts he was successful. After
Ml absence of nearly two years, in which he ex-
plored the western coast of America, crossed the
Pacific, and circamnavigated the globe — having
been the first Engliahman who performed that
feat — he returned triumphantly to England laden
with Spanish plunder, A third adventurer was
Bir John Davis, who made three voyages in search
of the north-west paamgo ; and although he was
unsucoeeafal in finding it, he enlai^ed the geogra-
phical knowledge of his countrymen, while he
perpetuated his own name by the discovery of
DaTia* Stnits. A fourth in the list of English
naval adventure was Thomas Cavendish, who,
like Drake, performed the periplus of the globe ;
and in a second expedition, one of his captsinB
(John Davis, who has already been mentioned}
discovered the fUklsnd Islands. Besides these,
other expeditions were fitted out towards the
dose of Elizabeth's reign, which had for their
chief object the exploration of the South Sens,
and the discovery of a north-west passage. While
these attempts were prosecuted with such dili-
gence, the paths that had already been opened
Up by foreign navigatore were not neglected; and
among the foremost of these was India, the great
eommerd J mart both of the ancient and modem
world. For this purpose, the Turkey Company
was ineorporal«d in 15S1, and the East India
Company in 1600. The splendid results with
whi<ji this enterprise was crowned belong to a
later period of the commercial history of England.
As Britun was finally destined to be the
" mighty mother" of colonies, England com-
menced her great vocation during this stirring
period of adventure, by attempting experiments
In colonization opon the North American conti-
nent. The first of these, nndertaken by Sir
Humphrey Gilbert in 1876 and 1C83, accom-
panied by his more renowned step-brother, Sir
Walter Raleigh, were unsuccessful ; and in the
last of these voyages, Qtlbert himself, and four

of the five ships that composed hie armament,
were lost at sea. Undeterred by this fatal ex-
ample, Sir Walter, in the following year, fitted
out two ships, which he sent to the coast of
North America, with instructions as to the direc-
tion in which they were to sail ; and the result
was the discovery of Virginia, which was so
named by Elizabeth herself, in honour of her own
happy state of celibacy. As Raleigh hj letten-
patmt had obtained the right of property in this
discovery, which comprised at that time both
what is now called Virginia and North Caro-
lina, ha sent to his new territory a fleet of colo-
nization consisting of seven ships ; but although
this trial, which proved a failure, was followed
by repeated attempts and sacrifices, Virginia was
not at this early stage to become the home of an
English population. Every successive landing
was followed by an attack from the natives,
under which the new comers perished, and at
last the attempt was abandoned in despair, Eng-
land was thus fated to learn at the outset, that
to colonize a country is more difficult than to
discover it: but bravely she persisted, and endur-
ingly she persevered, until the lesson was learned,
and the prize obtained.

A glance at the history of England during the
reign of Elizabeth, will sufGce to show how ne-
cessary this mercantdte spirit was, not only for
national prosperity, but even for very existence.
Spain, which had taken the lead i
discovery, and been enriched with the b
of America as her reward, was enabled In conse-
quence to fit out an Armada which, according to
human calculation, was justly termed the " In-
vincible." What in such a case would have been
the fate of this country, had the Armada been
able to land her armies, or even keep poesession
of the sea? Had England remained indifiTerent
to her mercantile advantages as an island, the
utmost she could have done in sach a crisia
would have been to abide the uncertium issue of
an invasion, by which she wonld have been
thrown back for a century at least in progress,
even if she had been finally victorious. The
former sovereigns had been obliged in their diffi*
culties to apply for shipping to such foreign
ports as Oenoa, Daimg, Hamburg, and Venice;
but in the present case, sneh a resource wonld
have been useless. Happily, however, her com-
merce had already created not only a numerous
and well-manned navy, but skilfnl commanders;
and thus, when the battle was confined to tite
ocean, tbe Spaniards were confronted by men aa
inured to naval conflict as themselves. In this
way, it is declared in the State Papers of the
period, where the force sent out agunst the Ar-
mada is enumerated, that the sum total of Eag-
lisb ships was 181. It is specified also that of

»Google

SM

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

(Bocui. State.

these, onlj Uurtij'foiir were regular men-of-war,
of wLicb not more thou five were from 800 ta
1100 tana bordea each; of theother ships, eigh-
teen were nippUed bjr private adveotorerB, thirty-
three by the city tk London ; forty-tJiree were
hired veaaels, and fifty-three were coast«n sent
by various aea-porU. The fleet had on board
11,180 men. At the end of the reign of Eliza-
beth, the royal navy amounted to 17,110 ton-
nage; while at the end of the reign of Mary it
had only amountod to 7110. Of theae ehipe of
Elizabeth, the largest was of 1000 tons burden,
and carried 340 seamen and forty gnns; while
the whole royal navy amounted to forty aail,
with a crew of about 300 men fur each vessel

In the internal traffic of England, the greater
part of it, as iu other oonntries, was carried ou
by fairs, held annoaJly or more frequently, at
stated pmods, in some noted place of resort; and
■uch were the local advantages derived from these
great musters, that every means was adopted to
malce them attractive, as well as to retain tbem
in existence, in those towns where they were
found no longer necessary. It was no wonder,
therefore, that when the lord-mayor and alder-
men of London, during the reign of Henry VIL,
prohilnted any of the citizens from repairing
with their goods to any market or fair out of the
dty, so many places remonstrated, and so loud
an ontcry was raised, until the obnoxious prohi-
bition was repealed by parliament in 1467. In
the appeal that was made on this occasion, we
learn the principal plaoes at which fairs
than held in England, and the kind of
transacted, as well as the peraons who frequented
them. " There be many fairs," it said, " tor the
common weal of your said liege people, as at
Salisbuij, Bristow, Oxenforth, Cambridge, Mot-
tiugham, Ely, Covenby, and at many other
places; where lords spiritual and temporal, abbots,
priors, knights, sqnires, gentlemen, and your eajd
commons of every country, bath their common
resort to buy and pnrvey many things that be
good and profitable, as ornaments of holy cbnrch,
chalices, books, vestments, and other ooiaments
for holy chnrch aforesaid ; and also for household,
as victual for the time of Lent, and other stuff,
as linen cloth, woollen cloth, brass, pewter, bed-
ding, Osmund, iron, flax, and wax, and many
other necessary things, the which might not be
forborne among your liege people." The great
meeting of this kind for the metropolis itself
wss Bartholomew Fair, to which multitudes an-
nually repaired from the several English coun-
ties, and even from foreign countriee, so that if
any epidemic happened to prevail in London
during the season that the fair was held, there
was some danger that the infection might thus
be carried over the whole kingdom. Such was

especially the case in 1593, while the plague was
raging in the metropolis, ao that its holding was
prohibited ; but so necessary had Bartiiolonuw
Fair now become for the welfare of the realm,
that the people were willing to brave the danger;
and all that the authorities conld therefore eflect
was merely to appoint certain regulalions bj
which the risk might be lessened. These regu-
lations, as announced in the proclamation of Eli-
zabeth, give a distinct idea of the Idnd of traffic
that was carried on at an EngUsh fur at the
dose of this period of our history. It waa de-
creed, "That in the usual place of Smithfield,
there be no manner of market for any wares kept,
nor any stalls or booths for any manner of mer-
chandise, or for victuals, suffered to be set iq>;
but that the open place of the ground called
Smithfield be only occupied with sale of bones
and cattle, and of stall wares, as bntter, cheow,
and each like, in gross, and not by retail ; the
same to continue for two days (mly. And for
vent of woollen cloths, kerseys, and linen doths,
to be all sold in gross, and not by rebil, the
same shall he all brought within the cloee yard
of St Bartholomew's, where shope are there con-
tinued, and have gates to shut tjie same place in
the nights, and there such cloth to be offered for
sale, sjid to be bought in grose^and not by retail;
the same market to couUuue but three days.
And that the sale and vent for leatlier be kept
in the outside of the ring in Smith£eM,aa hath
been accustomed, without erecting any ahopa or
booths for the same, or for any victualler or
other occupier of any ways whatsoever." From
these extracts, a distinct idea ma; be formed of
the substantial business of an E^lish fur, and
the mode in which it was conducted. But the
festivity that was intermingled with it, the
shows and pageants, the feasting and swilling,
the crowding, Mouldering and shouting, by which
the living mass was at times converted into a
heaving sea, or even a downright storm — these
inevitable accompaniments must be left to the
imagination of the reader. The task has often
been attempted, not only by the novelist, but the
historian; but of all these descriptions, none ap-
pears to us so graphic and so true as the Vanity
Fair of honest John Bunyan.'

puautlj unboQDdad, wbJoh ibej bikd nalthei pow«r to dcAnd.
SOT iklU to sitnet bom tin tulh. Ilia aj^t nf nrnmtn*

tbs gnuidw ot Tul uul imknown Dl^^flctH. A mar^timt ddridn
utwa, wfaioh sqnlppvd CTWidat for th« iBttlvDHnt wnA oockiiiHM
a( elm H« V World ; pmft^nc to Hn Um tilb* of thmi tnUBHUB
Tflglan tmm cUnul pflrdltiaii, and Bmi

»Google

A.D. 148ff— 1003]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

245

W« now turn from the commercial to the
Bgricultural atate of Eoglaiid at this period. At
its oommencemeut, farms appear to have been
cheaply rented, and carelesaljr or unakilfullj
cultivated; and the state of the peasaotry, as
(leacribed by Harrison, was that of lazy coarse
coDtantment A farm-house, of the ordinarj
kind, was a timber dwelling with walls of plaster,
and a roof of thatch; the beds were pallets of
BtiAW covered with a coarse sheet, or at the beat,
a fiock mattress ; and the usoal dailj diet of the
iomates was salted meat, poultry, and dairy pro-
duce, with the coarser grain, such as barley or
Tje, for bread, and only occasioaally wheaten
loaves or cakes, for the frequent use of wheaten
bread whs a luxury only for the rich. The
elotluDg of the inmates was the produce of the
farm; and the wool and flax were prepared and
spun for the weaver by the industry of the
female part of the establishment. The women
also superintended the com for the mill, brewed
nnd baked for the household consumption, took
cliarge of the cows, swine, and poultry, aad pei^
formed the work of the garden; while their hus-
bands not only attended to their labours a-field,
but made their own ox-bows, yokes, plough-gear,
and other uteusils of husbandry. In this way,
a rough but comfortabte abundance was secured
by the Eoglish yeomanry during the reign of
Henry TIL, even when their stock of money sel-
dom exceeded a few shillings; and when rent-
day arrived, if the hoarded sum of the year's
labour was not enough for the emergency, the
sale of a cow or horse had to be endured to
supply the deficiepcy. By good industry and
thrift, however, much could be effected even
with such scanty resources, a picture of which
I^ttimer has given in his own tiomely and prac-
tical but graphic style. His father, he tells us,
was a yeoman who rented a farm under .£4 o-
year; but out of this limited holding, he had as
mnch land onder tillage as kept six men, thirty
cows, and 100 sheep. He also kept a horse and
man for the kin^s service when called upon, sent
his son to school and afterwards to college, and
gave to each of his daughters .£0 as a dower
when they were married. Besidea this, he could
afford to be hospitable to his neighbours and
kind to the poor — and all from the produce of
bia farm. In the foregoing statements, the de-
scriptions, both of lAtimer and Harrison, are to
be understood as referring to the agricultural

oommonalty alone, and not to the namerous ex>
ceptions which were presented by the rural aris-
tocracy, who inhabited commodious mansions of
brick or stone, and vied with the worshipful
landowners themselves in dress, style of living,
and domestic comforts. This is attested by the
remiuas of those comfortable granges that evi-
dently were homes of abundance, especially dui^
ing tjie "golden days" of Elizabeth. It unfor-
tunately happens, however, that we have no ac-
count of their inmates, so as to describe their
mode of living with any aufSdent decree of cer-

Purauing the description given by the good
old Beformer, we find an important change in
agricultural life during the reign of Henry YIII.
The new occupant of hia father's farm was obliged
to pay for it a rental of £lB annually, or even
more, so that be was gnable " to do anything for
his prince, for himself, nor for his children, nor
to give a cup of drink to the poor.' This pro-
di^ouB rise in rent, which now, in most cases,
trebled its former amount, uohonsed many of
the comfortable yeomanry, and converted them
into day-labourers. To add to these evils, iu-
closnres were mnltJpliod over the whole coun-
try; large tracts were oonvertad into sheep-farms
in consequence of the increase in the traffic of
wool; and the snppresuon of monasteries, which
hitherto had maintained a comfortable traiantry,
and given relief to the poor, threw their helpleaa
inmates by thousands upon the already impove-
rished community. Alt this occasioned an sg-
gr^^te of misery which the writers of the period
exhaust themselves in deploring; and according
to their account, the land was overspread with
theft, beggary, and starvation. It could not in-
deed have been otherwise, from the suddenness
and violence of the change; and laws were en-
acted, although in most cases in vain, to suppress
the growing evlL Thus, the growth of large
sheep-farms was prohibited, by a decree that no
man should keep more than SOOO sheep except
np>on his own land; that not more than two
farms should be occupied by one tenant; that no
cottage should be built without having four acres
of huid attached to it, and that it should not
be inhabited by more than one family. Other
statutes were also enacted, which had for their
object the equalization of the pastoral and agri-
cultural interests, and the relief of the poor. It
was well, however, that the wants of the people.

Isduttj, ogarlT pluiced Into wwditinK wUoh haM oat
xalth ind Bnpb* in th* tnin at iplandld ricrtoc;, Tbs lonl-
tmninr, Iha lonl-inawinl, Uk Ion] priTj^Bd, ukd Uw laid

UMtrail«arltaMd«,iinUiadi»T«i7afUii»<x>aatiT. FwuhIt

a oeatuiT It bflcuoo a prvTiUant pbhIi

Including tba hJgliat, to bflCDDM mamt

for tha pvpoBH of diHoraiT, floLonlnt

whlob fbniBHl ■ ipKiiai tf nlndliuila npnliUo— tha t

thB cnwn or Euiluul. By llnki Ilk* tl«, tbe ftub

WW nsdnall; lUlJail with U» oamnurclil. Id ■ minnE

oi*lil2sdthaludhaldnAadaLnBt«d thauurohut" — B

»Google

ae

mSTOBT OF ENGLAND.

[Social Siatb

oomluDed with tiieir tndastrial babiU, were of
greater force ttun tda of parliament The Bab-
■livision of farms, and increase of rent, compelled
the use of a better kind of cultivation; ajid this
was followed with anch inccess, that by the end
of the reign of Elizabeth, the produce of each
cultivated acre was at least doubled. The nune
autire spirit, which neoeeait]r had thoa kmdled
into new life, waa also manifested in better farm-
houaea aod cottages, aod a more comfortable
st^le of living than had hitherto prevailed. All
this was manifested during "the days of good
Qaeen Bess," according to the testimonj of Har-
riaoD and other contemporary writers, from which
we gather the following partJcoIaiB of rural life
during this period : —

llie houses of the yeomanry, formerly built of
wood, were now superseded by cottages of brick,
or even of stone, while the rooms were larger
and better suited for in-door life; the fashion of
furniture, which had formerly been confined to
the manaiona of squire* and franklina, had now
found its way into these cottages; wooden trea-
ehers had been converted into platters of pew-
ter, and in some cases the pewter had given way
to pieces of ulver plate. A good feathei^bed
had talcen the place of the straw mattress, and
a snug coal-fire that of peat, heath, or crackling
thorns; while eood windows and chimneys were
not wanting to the building. The occupants,
indeed, were still obliged to subsist upon salted
meat during the winter, and salted fiah during
the church holidays, even after the Reformatjon
had been eatabliahed ; but to these there oould
now be added, in greater plenty then before, the
fresh produce of the pasture, the bam-yard, and
the dury —

" BaaC matton. and pork, ilind pia of Ch> bmt ;
Pi(, TCAt. gooM, And tiApoo, bod tdrt«r wflU dmt : "
While the owner of this good cheer had often
several years' rent laid up in store. The source
of all this Improvement was to be found in the
superior cultivation of hie farm, where the land
waa manured with burned limestone, sand, and
even the sweepings of the streets of London
mixed with the ashes of coal. In this way, the
better kinds of grain were not only produced in
greater abundance, but new articles introduced
into cultivation, tha chief of which were clover
and the hop, tliat were both brought to England
from the Netherlands. The breeding of cattle,
for which so many facilities were opened up, was
now carefully attended to; so that not only were
hones, osen,Bheep, swine, and goats, more plenti-
ful than ever, but also in better condition, and
more profitable for the market. A canons in-
stance of this glowing prosperity, and the effects
it produced, is to be found in the great increase
of malt, which was now so abundantly used, that

in 1597 it had to be checked by royal statnta
While improvements in farming had ^us been
going on, those of gardening had nob been ne-
glected; for while plums, cherries, currants, apri'
cots, pippins, and gooseberries, which had been
introduced from abroad during the reign of
Henry VIIL, were now carefully cultivated and
brought into general use, the garden was also
ornamented with the damask and musk rose, the
gilly-flower, rose of Provence, and Cfunation,
which were imported into England towards the
latter end of the sixteenth century.

From the yeoTnanry of merry Enghuid we now
pus to the dwellings of the rich and the noble.
Much of the former occupations of these mag-
nates had now departed along with the political
power and sway which they were no longer en-
titled to hold; but this deprivB)j<;n only strength-
ened their desire for more comfortable homes, and
a snperior style of living. It whs only thus that
they could still retiun their superiority as the ds-
scendaute of nobles and princes ; and as models,
they could have found few better fitted, aeoording
to ttie age, for their imitation, than Henry VIII.
and his gorgeous prime-miniBter Wolsey, the for-
mer of whom boilt, completed, or improved ten
splendid palaces. The style of bailding now in-
troduced intothe palatial residences of the English
nobles has been generally called the Tudor style,
and prevailed during the sixteenth csntury. The
change thus introduced is worthy of particular
noUce. Ecclesiastical architecture had now so far
retrograded, and become so mixed up with foreign
fnatures, that its distinctive English character
waagone. Henry VIIL patronized Italian artists,
and these having no feeling for the Qothic of the
North, could not appreciate its beauties, and
sought to engraft their own ideas on a strle
which, ss it had such hold on the national mind,
they could not at once throw aside. The beauti-
ful proportions of the old style were not sesn;
and when it waa copied, it was without know-
ledge or feeling. The result was, that step by
step, the ancient featnrea were supplsotad by ths
new introduction, until at length all character
was lost, and churches were bailt in debased
imitation of the classic styles. It will therefore
be unnecessary in this place to treat further of
ecclesiastical edifices.

In Domestic architecture, also, the same influ-
ences were at work, and produced a somewhat
sinular change ; but other causes in this case
led to modifications in the style of building and
living. The cessation of the wars which had so
long devastated England, and the oonseqasnt
feeling of security under the house of Tudw,
rendered no longer necessary the military charac-
ter which had hitherto distinguished the dwell-
ings of the aristocracT. The castellated form

,v Google

i.D. 1488—1603]

HISTOEY OF SOCIETY.

247

to wbicb the mind had been so long accnatomed,
was itill retained; bat it was no longer a mili-
tary fortress, in which EdI domestic arrangementa
were compelled to give waj to the necesBittea of
defence. The windows, which before i^ere small,
were now graduall]' enlarged, until thej became
the most important feature of the building.
Towers and turrets were stUl used, but only for
omament ; and aa they were no longer required
for watch-towers, or to be manned with warders
orbowmen, the flat leads within the parapet were
no tODger neceaaarj, and the; were finished with
ornamental roofs, richly crocketted and fJoialled,
and ending in gaj weatber-^^inea or armoiial de-
vices. ChimnejB, too, now became an impoi'tant
featnre of oruaroentation. They were mostly of
brick, and conristed of large stacks of tall slender
shafts, issuing from a square baaement, frequently
of stone. These shafts were richly moulded and
often twisted,and they were generally ornamented
orer their whole surface with various diaper pat-
terns aud armorial bearings.' Chimneys had
been in use in England from the twelfth century,
if not earlier, aa is shown by remains of build-
ings of that date. They had increased in use
nutil, in the fifteenth century, eren the halls
were wanned by fire-places, though they had pre-
rioualy had a large fire on a hearth, or, as it was
called, a bnairr, in the middle of the floor, with
an opening over it in the roof, and which was
called a louvre. A good example of this does
or did lately exist in the hall of Westminster
School.

In the latter part of Henry VII.'s and the early
part of Beury Vlll.'e reign, brick buildings were
much used, and ornamental moulded brickwork
seems at this time to have attained its greatest
perfection. All the ornaments are moulded in
brick, and thiH girea a facility for profuse decoi-a-
tion without much increase of cost. Accordingly,
we find these decontions, which consist of Tudor
flowers, armorial bearings and badges, letters.
Bowers, medatlioDS, &c., used in all parts of a
building where they could be introduced, on the
parapets, the cornices, the atring-conrses, and,
above all, on the chimneys and turrets. At this
time the buildings are without the mixture of
Italian det^la which afterwards became so pre-
T^eut, and they exhibit the character of what
may be taken as the genuine Tudor style. They
retain the castellated form outwardly, and have
in general the moat and gatehouse; but the
towers are without strength, and are evidently
intended for ornament and show rather than
for defence. Small octagonal turrets flank the
angles, and terminate in a kind of turret pinnacles

lat Builum,

capped with an ogee-shaped dome, which hns
frequently a large finial and bold crocketa.
These turrets, which are peculiar to this style,
are found In many of the large buildings, as at
Henry VII.'s Chapel, Hengrave Hall, Westow
Hall, Ik., and have some resemblance to Turkisli

Put or Bipquk Huj, Emci. Tiki or HcnT Till.
BrltUo'a AKhltectunI AuUqnltJH.

minarela ; and with the richly ornamented ataclts
of brick chimneys, ^ve a very remarkable and
distinctive charscter to the buildings where
they occur. These tnrrets and chimneys, with
the general prevalence of the octagonal over the
aqnare form for towers, &o., large square win-
dows, divided into many lights by mullions and
crosa bars or transoms — the extensive use of
panelUng and of the
Tudor flower — and
other details of the
late Perpendicular
style — and also of
armorial bearings ;
with the very gene-
ral use of brick —
may be taken as the
j ^ characteristics of the

i I genuine Tudor style

' before its admixture
I with foreign details.
But before the end
of the reignof Henry
VIII. it had become
materially altered :
the castellated form
was lost, and it pass-
ed gradually into
Euubkteah Wiubow. Rwhiini wbatisknownasthe
H.U, KMthu»pv™hi». Elizabethan style.

In the latter part of this style all trace of military
cliaracter was lost, and the Gothic features were
mixed with and gi»dually replaced by Italian.
The Grecian and Soman orders were generally
used, but were copied in aa impure and debased
manner. From these apparently discordant ma-
terials deugne were fortaed, which have at leAot

»Google

248

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statk

great pictureaiua effect to recommend them.
The winJowB, however, still retained their miil-
lions and troDsomB, but they were increased in
Bize iu some instances (as at Hordwick] k> such

)

an eTcess that the Mralls were rednced to little
more than mei'e windoir frames. Indeed, the
buildings of this reign were built for pomp and
pleasnre, for banquets and pageants; and there-
fore splendid apartments, approached by wide
and magnificent staircases, and, above all, a
gallery for dancing and other amusements, and
which frequently extended the whole length of
the building, were essential
in a house of any preten-
siona. The ceilings were
richly and profusely orna-
mented with flowers, foli-
age and arabesques, Ggures,
and classic allusions. They
Bve generally divided iot4>
compartments, and pen-
dants are sometimes intro-
duced. Great care and ex-
pense were bestowed on the
massive chimney - pieces,
which are frequently of
large size, reaching the
height of the room, gene-
rally of marble or carved
oak, and of most elaborate
and iatricat« design, con-
sisting of the classical or-
ders, figures, armorial bear-
ings, ciphers, arabesques,
&c Wiunscot, which had
been much used in the Tudor period, when it
was panelled and generally carved, woe still con-
tinued, though in a plainer style, for the prin-
cipal apartments, but it was commonly covered
with tapestry, on which were represented various

historiesfromclassicmythology. Tli is was merely
hnng on the walls, and was removed from huuss
to house as the family changed their residanec.
On the exterior, as moats and walls for defence
were no longer needed, the
sloping ground was cut inUi
wide and stately terraces
;^ 7. ^-^ -. for promenading. These

were generally bounded by
massive shme balustrades,
and connected with each
other by steps, and were
ornamented with statnen,
vKMS, &C. The space below
was laid out as a flower
■ garden, with generally a
I fountain in the centre, and
- beds cut ont into varimia
fantastical and geometricMl
'orma, planted with flowers
and evergreens, and eu-
I, NoBTou. Ttui or udbt v]|[.i livened by atatuea of tlie
deities of the classic mytho-
logy, The«e gardens, with their terraces, atilT
and formal though they were, harmonized well
with the style of building, and give an air of
dignity and magnificence to the edifice which we
scarcely find elsewhere.

The princely houses, or rather palaces, which
rose in this reign are numerona, many even jet
remaining to attest the splendour of tbe reign of

the " Virgin Queen.' Of these maj' be meutioned
Bnrghley, Kirby, Oxnead, &c
The iUnatnitions chosen to elucidate the arclii-

,v Google

A.D. 1483-1603.] HISTOHY OF SOCIETY. 249

t«ctnr« of Uiis penod are t— Woltertor Manor period, but the lights are square-headed, not
Houae, Eaat Baraham, Norfolk, which waa begun j poiuted. The noudeacript addition* to the para-
in the latter part of the reipi of Henry VII. and j pet over the principal entrance, and the intro-
finiafaed in that of Henry VIII. It is entirely of durtion of the oolumns and entablaturee for cbitn-
brick, and offera a perfect example of the atyie of [ neya, are mwngruitiea, but are still very chai-ac-
the period. It ahows the
peculiar turrets before meg-
tioned, the cliininey-stackti,
the panelling, the moulded
ornaments, &c., and the royal
arms conspicuously place<l
over both entrances.

Hengmve Hall (1538), the
finest example we poseess of
the style of the early part of
the reign of Henry VIIT.
It is of stone ; has the ogee
domes very large, and with
bold crockets and large
finials, pointe<l lights to the
windows, and other fea-
tares of genuine Tudor; Hutowici
but its entrance doorway

shows a tendency to change, as Italian or classic teristic of the style, for though the general form
features are there used. The ground plan of
this building is that which mostly prevailed at
the time, that ia, the buildings forming a square
and inclosing a central paved quadrangle, the
hall being on the aide oppoeite to the entrance.
A moat with an outer gat«hoose surrounded the
whole. Other examples of this arrangement are
Oxbui^h, Norfolk ; and Oompton-Wynyates,
Warwickshire.

Burghley Houae, Northamptonshire (1587),

was bold and striking, the details were meaning-
less and poor. A partonly of the principal front
is here shown.

Hardwick Hall, Derbyshire, built by Eliitabetti,
Countess of Shrewsbury, in the reign of Elizabeth.
This ia a building on a less magnificent scale, but
equally characteristic. It is here introduced to
show the excessive enlargement of the windows,
and the countess' initials, E. S., and coronet, in the
parapet. This was a fashion in this reign, and
sometimes, as at Castle-
Ashby, the family motto
formed the parapet.

Throughout the whole
of this period timber houses
continued to be used, and
the greater part of those
now remtuning are of the
time of Elizabeth or James.
The framework of these
was of oak, and the spaces
between were tilled up
either with lath and plas-
ter or with brick. The
timbers between the prin-
cipal bearers were arranged
in various ornamental de-
vices, as circles, lozenges,
BiHJnur Hotm, NaanuHFTOHBHiiic. Timi or Euubxth.— RltlurdHii'i Klii. Anh, &'J. 1 and the gables finisbeil

with ornamented barge-
built by I^rd-chancellor Burghley. This is a boaHs, and finials or hip-knob* The whole of
magnificent specimen of a palatial Elisabethnn the principal timbers were often richly carved,
building. It is classical or Italian throughout, and the entrance ornamented with small shafts,
with the «xoeption of the windows, which still arches, 4c. The upper stmiea frequently |m)j«et
retain the mullioos and tranaoms of the earlier over the lower ones. Haay hirge and veiy fine
Vol. 11, )M

Dintiz.nnvGoOgle

niSTOET OF ENGLAND.

[SoCTAL 9tatk

timber buildiogi are foimd in (ThMhire and
LjmcMhire, and one of these, Moretoo Hall,

ia here selected for &n example. Tliia hotue
hM a gallery extending along it« whole length.
Bramhall Hall, Cheahire, ia another but larger

The architect of many of the finest honaea
of thia reign and the next, vaa John Thorpe,
whose veij CDrioua and valuable aketch-
book ia now in Sir John Soane'a M u-
aean, and from it the following deaign
haa been selected. It is intended for a
atreet in London, and therefore differs
from those for the conntrj.' Its chief
peculiarity is the projecting porch and
gallerj, extending along the whole front,
andapproBchedbjstepe. Porcheaofthis
character, but merely covering the door,
are not of unfrequeut occurrence in town
. houses of the neit oentory.
'_ The same political causes that awept
away the feudal caatlea of England, or
converted them into peaceful maiisiona,
alao abridged to a very great extent the
trains of the nobility. It was no longer
neceaaary for them to live in garrison,
or ride attended by a numerous armed
array; and, indeed, had they attempted
it, such a mode of life would no longer
have been permitted- On the accetsion
of the Tudora to the throne, the new dynasty
found the aristocracy depressed, and resolved to
keep them so ; and hence the severe statutes that
were enacted against numerous feudal retinues.
A specimen of this severity, exhibited by Henry
VII., will sufficiently illustrate the royal jealousy
upon the subject. On retiring from Henninghani
Ca8tle,after having been snmptuoualy entertained
by hia noble favourite the Earl of Oxford, the
king passed through a lane of servants in rich
liveries, who were drawn up to honour his de-
parture. "My lord,' exclaimed Henry, " I have
heard much of
your hospita-
lity, but see it
b greater than
report — these
handsome gen-
tlemen and yeo-

The

and richer specimen of the aame character. It«
interior exhibits the elaborate ceiling, th« wain*-
cotted walla, the richly carved chimney-piece, and
ahows the opposite aide of the room pntirely occu-
pied by trindoffs. It* date is IQOS.

ear] confessed
with a smile
that they were
not servants,
but retainers,
who had come
to do him sel^

portan t occawon. " By my faith 1 ' cried the king,
" I thank you for my good cheer, but I may not
have my laws broken in my sight ; my attorney

,v Google

A.D. 1486—1603.]

HISTOEY OF SOCIETY.

251

must ipeak with 70a.' The attorney spoke ac-
cordiDgly, and to auch purpose, that the earl was
taia to compooad for his offence bj the paymeat
of 1S,000 mnrka.

AlthoiiRh the furniture of these noble mansions
had continued to improve so m to correapond
with the style of bailding, we still find it in
man/ cases both rude and defective ; and while
the lofty halls that were set apart for banquet-
iaga aod stat« purposes exhibited abnudance of
pomp and glitter, in the shape of plate, gilding,
carved wainscot, rich arraa, and massive tables,
the apartments for daily use were so scantily
furnished in comparison, as to indicate the still
continuing hardy habits and out-door life of the
English uohility. Such was the case even in the
palace of Henry VIII., that king of splendid
^ows and luiurions living; for the inventory of
Ills bed-chamber wa« comprised in two joint cup-
boards, a joint stool, a steel mirror covered with
yellow velvet, a couple of andirons, a fire-pan,
n pair of tongs, and a fire-fork.' Besides such
articles, the furniture of a noble mansion cou-
sistad of richly carved buffets, round tables with
pillar and claw, sometimes a household clock—
which, as yet, however, was a rarity — and stiff
liigh-backed chairs, and carpets.* This last ar-
tide, which was from Turkey, and not introduced
into England until the close of the reign of
Henry VIII., was at first used, very charily, for
the covering of tables. But the choicest of all
the domestic conveniences continued to be a bed,
which contrasted strangely enough with the
scanty and homely furniture of a bed-chamber;
for its framework was often canopied and fes-
tooned like a throne, while the bed itself was of
the Bofteat down, covered with woollen blankets,
fine Holland sheets, and a richly embroidered
coverlet exhibiting the arms of the owner in silk
or gold needlework.

As might be expected, the splendour of a royal
or noble banquet had reached its height during
the time of Henry VIII., and the chroniclers of
the period are at a loss for language to describe
the pageant feasts of this sovereign, and his other
self. Cardinal Wolsey. But with all this variety
of dishes, in which the four elements seemed to

be exhausted, and the whole art of cookery re-
duced to a Btand-stUl, a refinement and also a
moderation had been introduced that was in
pleasing contrast to the former coarae swillingit
and gormandiEings. The usual meaU of the
nobility during this reign were^ breakfast, which
was taken at eight o'clock ; dinner, at twelve ; a
slight meal, called an afternoon, at three ; sup-
pn*, at six ; and an afte:^upper, near bed-time.
These five meals, however, which in themselves
were moderate repasts, chiefiy consisted of bread,
meat, and ale, while wine was seldom used ex-
cept at the after-supper. The two female reigns
that foUowed had a powerful tendency still
farther to moderate the appetites, as well as r6-
fine the tastes of table usages ; so that the five
roeais were reduced to three, and a dignifii^
stately decoi-um took the place of that shouting,
jesting, and obstreperous mirth, as well as those
mountains of salted beef and pork, of which
they had bo essentially consisted. For all this,
indeed, the table of Elizabeth herself was an ex-
cellent model, where a dinner was served up as
if it had been an act of worship, amidst kneel-
ing pages, and guards, and high-born dames;
while twelve trumpeters, and two kettle-drum-
mei's, atoned for the reverential silence of the
bystanders. A nobleman's public dinner, there-
fore, during this reign, was something worth
witnessing as well as partaking. When the
guests assembled, rose-water and perfumery were
handed round, in which they dipped their fingers,
and perfumed their hands and handkerchiefs.
After this dainty and decorous ablution, they
were ushered into the dining hall according
to their rank ; where, beaides the upper table
for those of high degree, there were others for
inferior guests and the chief officers of the
household. These tables were now covered with
tablecloths of costly materials and manufacture,
and laden with dishes, no longer of wood or
pewter, but of silver; while their dainties con-
sisted of every variety that the season could pro-
duce, or wealth procure. There was the boai-'s
head wreathed with rosemary; tlie dish of suck-
ing pigs that had been fed on dates and musca-
dine, and were now dressed and served up with

D. In the «>IU(r.
k BDoh it tLe Dft-npeBt«d Uatimcm,
Ji4*a thMt ho onjojod ths tmnfOrt of
lo tUo pomp of b

ap«bOT« Uh nctf ■■ (nmto ;

of biMorr; uidlfiTB
dlirmmt MpMt.

Bii Willw SsoU'i

tonf Cor uj att«mpt .

HtlMWholabH t

U>* brt hLUod of

,v Google

S52

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social STAn

delicftte puddings io their bellies; the anbstanUal
varieties of be^, muttou, and veal, and every
kind of venison and fowl, wild or tame. Theo,
too, there were the confectionB, cakea, and pud-
dings; the fruits, jeUies, and preserves, most of
which had been hut recently introduced intoEng-
Innd ; and spices and sauces of every kind, with
whicli every dish could be varied by each eater ad
infinitum. The variety of wines matched that of
the dishes; for ninety-two different kinds were at
this time imported into England, to the amount
of 30,000 tuns annnally. One proof of the su-
perior moderation to which the English had now
attained, was the manner in which these wines
were used at aristocratic banquets; for instead
of flowing round the table without stint or mea-
sure, they usually stood upon a sideboard, and
each guest called for a flagon of the kind he pre-
ferred. Not the least gay spectacle in such a
revel must have been the rows of pinmed and
jewelled hata by which the tables were sur-
rounded ; for at this time, as well as long after-
wards, every man, whether at church, theatre,
or festival, kept hia head covered, and only raised
his hat to make a speech or return thanks for a
compliment. In this way, a Huggestion was grace-
fully propounded, or a he&lth given and received
at table. When the feast waa ended, the plenti-
ful remains were gathered and given to the poor,
who, on these occasions, usually assembled at the
rich man's gate.
The mutability of English male costume, hi-

The accompanying group will illustrate some of
the fashions iJiat prevailed in the reign of Henry
VII. Instead of a hood, the head was now gen-
erally covered with a^elt hat, cap, or bonnet, aur-

lEor HDmr Vll.>

therto BO remarkable in the eyes of strangers, had
by no means aliatcd during the present period.

Cosn-Me, Ttai or Hiaiiv VII. —From Hojil MSB. H, E, IV.

mount«d with one or more ostrich feathers. A
long coat or gown, with hanging sleeves, formed
the outside covering, ornamented with a cape en-
collar of fur or velvet, and
under it was u Inced doublet,
slashed at the elbow. Long
hose were worn, of two or
even more colours; while
the shoes or slippers were
broad at the toes, and were
exchange<l in riding for boots
that reached to the kneea.
Sometimes the plumage of
the hat was of extravagant
height or profusion ; and the
neck wns bared both from
cloak and doublet, that the
gold chniiiB or collars with
which it waa adorned might
he sufliciently conspicuona
Long hair waa still in vogue,
but both chin and u)iper lip
were closely shaven. Our

.. J next illustration is literally I

if not professionally, a gentle-
man of the long rolie. He is
evidently of tome grave vot-atiou, and therefore
can dispense with tlie omainentB of slashed
doublet, stomacher, embroidered shirt, and nod-
ding plumage.of which his younger brethren were

»Google

a.j

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

ao profoM, while the rich fur, reaching from
the collar to the Bkirta, gives erideDce of hia
rank. Of the female drew during the reign of
Henry VIL, it was bo complex and »o varied, if
we may believe the aatirista of the period, that
we can only notice one oi- two of its principal fear

Fehali ATnw, Tm« o» Hehht VII.— From Roj^ K

tures. Thie, howevei', ia tlie leas to be regretted,
aa from the pictorial specimens it appears eome-
what stiff and tasteless, and therefore leas worthy
of particular detail. The high head-dresEea had

given place to hoods, that lay Sat upon the heatl,
and sometimes were prolonged over the back and
shoulders, and ornamented with embroidery and
jewels. Under these head-dreaaea litUe of the
hair was seen, and what was visible was plainly
braided. The square-cut body, abort waiat, and
long skirt, with sleeves sometimes
close, sometimes wide and hang-
ing, by which the outer garment
of the ladiea waa distinguished
during this reign, will be recog-
nized in the giNiup we have se-
lected.

During the latter part of the
reign of Henry VII.,and the early
part of that of Henry YIH., the
grave flowing skirts of the gentle-
men disappeared, and gave place
to hoae fitted to the abape like
pantaloons, either of one entire
piece, or divided into two parts,
called the upper and nether stock;
while over the doublet was worn
B. I«. P. 11, a short but full cloak, with arm-

holes, and a broad fur or velvet
collar. As for the bats, caps, and bonnets, they
were ao varied in material, shape, and ornament,
that it would be impoaaible to particularize them
without the aid of the artist. The reign of Henry

Hin AUD Cm, hhc or Hunr Vlll.— Fiam IsiHatrr tn piiiEiilnii ot Ut. J. Adaj RipUii.

YHI., indeed, was so distinguiahed by extrava- 1 acquired at tlie Field of the Cloth of Gold, and
gance in rich attire of fors, velvets, and costly which those of inferior rauk bad eagerly adopted
embroidery — an excess which the nobility had \ — that sumptuary laws had again to be enacted

»Google

^"^ HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [SoaAi. Srire.

to repress such niinoua expenditure.' But it I sionallv appeared in public with her beMitiful

WM not the nude sex alone who had improved I fair hair banging in ringleU over her ehoalden.

The little flat cap worn
upon the point of the head,
and exhibiting itself in
curiouB contrast to the am-
ple bate and turbana of the
preceding reign, was the
chief iuuovaljon in coetniae
during that of Edward VL,
and is still woni by the
pupils of Chriat Chrarh
Ho8|)ital, hie favourite in-
stitution. Of the dreaaea
of the ladies at this lime,
we find tliat a few portions

! of male attire entered into

their compoBitiou, auoh aa

Co«™B.T.>«f.,nt«, viii,-fi.i,^fron.H=[l^'.pict,.«,. Milan bonnet* and waist-

, ■ t . ■ 1 . , eoata, which tbev wore in

in ipleiidour of attire during the earlier and mo« [ common with the other s^^. Of the other parta

gorgeous part of this eventful '

reign. The ladies vied with,

and if possible outslione the

gentlemen in splendour of

dresi, while tliey equalled them

in tnte. The waist was now

lengthened to more natural

proportions, aud the ateerea

assumed a more becoming

shape. The hood was still re- '

tained,and became veij grace-
ful in its forms. It was oom-

posed of the richest materials,

and was often aumptuDualj

adorned with embroider; and '' '

jewels. But this head-drew p^^

must have been aometimes dis-
pensed with, aa we find that Anne Bolejn occa- 1 of their costume, the names at least are still

familiar to us, such aa the comet,
the bon grace, and the cap of
miniver; the partlet or mff, the
kirtle, and tlie stammel red petti-

When we advance to the reign
of Elizabeth, we find that a new
era had commenced in England ;
BO that the changes which occurred
in arts, arms, and government, ex-
tended themselves to every part
of costume ; and while new fa-
shions were adopted, the old were
swept away. Fortunately, how-
ever, while these changes in dreaa
""-■ ■- — -".----i~ ■-^^- were bo complex and numerous,

Convict TiHi or Bdwus VI.— Fran oDDtnapoiuT portnlu. the historians, dramatists, satir-

^. . ists, and painters, who were now

•mttin oouuran Id ibt nprmaauuaa of iiw Pitid trf tb. •" abundant, were aufficientJy ready to describa
' luiii of (loiii, loi. I. f. ;s6, ( them ; and thus her courtiers, statesmen, maids

»Google

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

255

of honoar — e-very varietj' of the oonrt, th« ounp,
th« market-place, and the village green, paas be-
1 individuality, that ve ttf\ as

MEAD-DnnEi, time or Eliiabetu.i

if we conld tell hov each looked, and walked,
and dreeaetl, bb he performed hie part in the
great proceaeiou. This very |»«fuaiou ia more
bewildering than the scantiueea of the preceding
periods, so that we are at B loss where to begin.
Fortunately, however, with the exception of a
few minute points, the subject may be left to the
already-acquired informatioD of the moat ordin-
ary reader, aided by the delineations of the artist.
And Urst, as ia fitting in a female reign, and one
BO illustrious iu history, we shall give the pre-
ference of commencement to the female attire.
To begin with the head— the caps, bale, and
hooda were of great variety, some being called
the "French hood;" otbera the "Mary Queer
of Scots cap," a head-dress the form of which u
familiar to us from the many pictures of that
unfortunate princess. Aa for the hair, it was
now "curled, frizzled, and crisped," says Stubbs,
" and laid out in wreaths and bordere from one
ear to the other." Sometimes we find it also
combed straight up, and turned back ov
cushion. But this waa not enough ; for aa a
taate for a different colour of hair continued
go on at this time, aa the chief characteristic
di fashion, ladies endeavoured to accommodate
themaelvea to the whim of each day by artificial
means. In this way, they not only dyed their
hair, but wore false locks, or even entire perukes.
Such waa the case with Elizabeth herself, who
■ ludl.Pnnn ■ print b^Bol*HM.drtKl1M9. S.Fninitha
tombof BJr IIii|<t Monnod ud LtOj. BL SUpban'4 Chnnta,
HV <^iitarbiu7, IWl. i, Ficm Bulim'i rDdlsnn of Eugllah

had wigs of several colours, so that at one period
rore black hair, and at another red. The
same fashion was used by her beautiful rival, the
Queen of Scots, who in her picturee is repre-
sented with the varietiea of black, yellow, and
auburn hair successively. But fair hair generally
obtained the preference ; and not only were arti-
ficial meana used to procure this colour, but even
fair-haired children were allured into hy-placea,
and shorn of their locks, to furnish court periwigs
for the ladies.' Next came the ruff of lawn or
cambric, which Elizabeth wore of auch prepos-
terous amplituile, that the difficulty was how to
stiffen it ; but this was obviated by sending to
Holland for certain Dutch women, who were
thoroughly skilled iu the manufacture and use
of starch. This material was now ao much em-
ployed by the ladies of the court, that a snarling
satirist did not scruple to term it an "underprop
if the devil's kingdom.* The next remarkable
part of female dress that strikes the eye in the
paintings of the period, is the long stiff boddice,
descending apparently almost to the knees, crossed
and re-crossed with laces, bu that the wearer might
be considered a captive in the closeat of all pri-
; while this stifihess was ornamented, if not
relieved,byaprofusionof embroidery and jewels.
Standing out in balloon fashion from the boddice,

came next the fardingale (the precursor of the
hoop), which was introduced into England about

■Thlibidiafbihlan wUlnmliul Uu claalad nuliir of th«
bwta Ilwt pnnllad for <Ur hilr duiinf th* miUtr peilod of Dh
Bomu ampin. A> lb* jonnc patiistu oOUsni had ■oqoind n
Uklpf fbr tb* bright muui; lockt of Uw I4vctb, dnriBi Uuii

• Google

256

HISTORY OF ENGLiND.

[Social State.

the middle of lUis reign. At this period, abo,
BtockingB of knitted ailk, which were brought
from abroad, were fint ased by Elizabeth, and

from her they descended

the ladies of the conrt.
The shoes, that oooi-
pleted the costume, were
made of Eugliah or Spa-
nish leather, and some
times of velvet embroi-
dered with eilk, or more
commonly with gold and
silver, iii a variety of ricli
devices, and studded,
moreover, with costly
ornaraenta. The other
articles, by which a
faahionable lady's cos-
tume was completed, con- '
sisted of perfumed gIove«, embroidered with gold
and silver; a fan of ostrich or peacock's fea-
thers and handle of gold; a small |)ortable mirror,
which she usually carried at her girdle when she

Bttn CoicH, TiHi or EuuutH — Fram EoAuf^'i pili

walked abroad, to rectify any disorder iu her dress
and ornaments; and n mask. This last article,
which was used to preserve the complexion from
HUD, wind, and rain, was made of black velvet,
and was bo startling at its introduction, that
many jeered kt ite grotesque appearance,
while not a few were offended at the conceal-
ment which it favoured. To save the eyes,
also, as well as the completion, this mask
was soon furnished with a pair of glass eyes,
which, Stubbs informs ua, glared full upon
the beholder, like the saucer eyes of a devil.
An army so rich and complicated, in such a
variable climate as England, combined with
the natural desire of displaying it, suggested
a coach, and this appropriate vehicle was ac-
cordingly introdnced into general use in Eng-

UUMdagrtenwlUiilinlUiiUnnnwita. not D11I7 b/ djtlDg UhU
bidr fato tha IWhloiuble hiu, but bj weuiog pomkaa, tha
m'^riftlt of whioti bbl origliuUj (noed tiw hoadi of fSnuda

land. According to Stow, is his Chronidt,
the first coach was not introduced into Eng-
land until 1556, although such a conveyance had
been used on the Continent nearly a century
earlier. One of the earliest, built in lSfi4, wag
fortunately for Elisabeth herself, otherwise it
might hare been crushed in the bud; for, 11
Taylor, the water-poet, informs us, "a coach was
a strange monster in those days, and the sight
of it pat both horse and man into aniazemenL
Some said it was a great crab-shell brought out
of Cliina ; and some imagined it to be one of the
pagau temples in which cannibals adored the
devil." Even in the following reign, when
coaches had become pretty general in the me-
tropolis, they were so odious to the populace,
that they were stigmatized as " hell-carts," and
sometimes thrown over into the mud by the
enraged porters and carmen. The first coach ap-
pears to have been little better than the covered
waggons and horse-litters in which ladies of the
highest rank had hitherto travelled when they
were unable to ride on horseback, as it was a
heavy, clumsy-looking box without springs, lined
within and without with red
cloth, fringed with silk of tha
same colour. Even at a fune-
ntl pace, such a car must
have jolted so grievously iu
the rough streets and high-
ways, as to have made a pro-
cession an act of penance; and
therefore it is not wonderful
if the Virgiu Queen and her
f(ur maidens were still to be
found on honteback in the
royal progresses.
As for the costume of the nobles and gallants
of Queen Elizabeth's days, a volume would
scarcely suffice to describe it. This, however.

is the less to be regretted as it is so fully detailed
by Shakspeare and his contemporaries, who, es-
pecially in comedy, draped their characteis, of
whatever country, in the clothing of EngJanu
during the ElieabethEUi period. The head-eoTer-
ing, which, during the earlier part of her reign.

»Google

A.H. U8a-1603.]

HISTORY OF SOCFETY.

257

«•■ of the ume varied form that it exhibited
during the period of Edw&rd VI. and Mary, at
length settled into the high, steeple- crowned hat,
which afterwards prevjiiled for nearly a ceatuiy,
uutil it waa wholly abandooed to
the PuritaiiB. These coverings, at
first, were not only made of wool
or beaver, but also of taffety, silk,
and velvet. In the male costume,
the ruff was atmoat as conspicuous
as la the female, and nearly of the
same amplitude ; and, in the pic-
tures of the day, forma a pleasing
accompaniment to the beard and
miutachios with which it is sur-
mounted. Next came the doublet,
which at first was fitted cloeely b>
the body ; but the same inclioatiou
for long waists which prevailed
among the ladies, was adopted by
the gentlemen — accordingly, to-
wards the close of this period, their
doublets had descended so low as
to give them the sllmness without the nimbleoeBS
of the wnap. Either to break this monotony of
length also, or to become more conformed in ahape
to the sex whom they sought to emulate, the
breast was padded with stuffing, so that this gar-
ment at length obtiuned the name of the pease-
cod-bellied doublet The nether clothing, consist-
ing of slope, breeches, or tmnk-hoee, was of various
fashions, and adopted from different countries.
Thus, there were what was called the Venetian
hosen, reaching to the calf of the leg, and fas-
tened by buttons or silken ooinU ; the French,

the knee. Over all this was a cloak, fashioned
according to the cut of France, Spain, or Hol-
land, and sometimes bordered with glass bugles.
The stockings were omameDt«d at the ankles

Siil^. s, Ftom R Otun

which were either wide and loose,
tight, ending below the knee in
roll^ called cannons; and Gallic hose, that were
(if targa amplitude, but reached no farther than
Vou U.

with clocks, while the feet were guarded by
shoes of whatever colour the wearer fancied ; or
pantofies, that is, slippers without heels. In all
this, we have given nothing mora than the mere
outline of a courtier or gentleroau of the period
of Elizabeth; the elaboration of ornament with
which it was overlaid would be too difficult to
describe. lu au original portnut of Sir Walter
Italeigh, he is represented in a. white satin doub-
let, "all embroidered," says Aubrey, in his Cor-
retpondenec, " with rich pearls, and a mighty
rich chain of great pearls about his neck"— being
no doubt a dress which he wore on
public occasions. The ropes aud
chains of peurl and gold round the
hat or neck, the jewelled buttons,
and fanciful devices of silken aud
golden embroidery, will be suggested
by the remembrance of similar por-
traitures of the great ones of the
period. A noble thus arrayed, usu-
ally went forth with nothing more
than a few attendants, and a page or
favourite servant to carry his rapier;
while his ancestor, only a century
earlier, had perhaps been wont to
appear in public with no fewer than
100 well-armed retalaera. But now
he had nothing to fear beyond an
attack of St Nicholas' clerks, if they
dared to attack a man of sncb wor-
ship; or a ruffle with some political
close and { rival, iu which his own hand aud weapon were

■"s''^^™''

li Philip

■1, riDBiHuilliic'aSaisotHlitiitliiiaFartnito. J. Ftmus
pTiDt hj OttfUi Bote. S, Fmn VtuUH/t pttnt of Htantatb'a
IBVfi^ lo Hnudon Hoom. 1, Prom Titlu. 9, Pnm ■ paiat-

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Stati

to be hia cLief sureties. In the costume of a
uobleroan or gentleniftn, towards the cloae of thia
period, we must not forget his weapons, which

were a rapier awl dagger, tlie former used for ■
nasault, and the latter for parrj and defence.
Tliesa weapons had now in a great measure su-
perseded the broadsword and buckler, as well aa
the Style of fence, wliich had chiefly depended
upon mei*e streogth; and, euch wns the recog-
Ttizad. superiority of the rapier, that the skilful
use of it now formed aii important port of a
finished education. The chief schools for this
purpose were in Italy, whose people then, as now,
were the moat skilful fencers in Europe ; and

sometimes Italians were invited to London, where
they gave lessons in the practice of rapier and
dagger. The consequence of this change in the
science and weapons of single combat
was, that be who had learned t^e
choicest bits, was so confident in bia
superiority, as to be "sudden and quick
in quarrel' with the less initiated;
but in process of time, when a know-
ledge of these weapons was more widely
diffused, the dangerous effects
of a rapier-thrust made duel-
lists more forbearing then ever.
Besides making sure of the ad-
vantage of superior skill, a quarrelsome person
soraetiraea wore two rapiers in one sheath, which
he oould use in both hands at once with fatal
desterity; and sometimea he went forth with a
weapon longer by an inch or two than that of
any ordinary antagonist. At length, tliese rapiers
increased so unfairly in longitude, and were pro-
ductive of such mischievous consequences, that
Elizabeth was obliged to interfere. Accordingly,
discreet citizens were stationed at each city gate,
who measured the rapiers of those who passed

by, and broke down to the standard of three
feet every blade that exceeded it, by wiiich the
cltances of quarrel were reduced t« a wholesome
uniformity, aud the spirit of quarrel itself abated.
If tliiarapier-poking.aa it was contemptuously
called, waa but a poor proaaic substitute for the
chivalrouB combaU which it sapeneded, we shall
do mil to give a puting glanoe at the defensive

1. niai'Luicai'ii Axvoi-a, :k.i>, lUS.
■ ME or Hekst V11.>

armourof the period. Our first specimen is a auit
of tilting armour, which was generally heavier
and more complete than even that used in actual
battle. The belmet, which waa now flat-topped
instead of being rounded, waa so completely-
front, that the wonder is how, in such

'Imi

,v Google

A.i>. 148B— leoa]

niaroKY of society.

259

a cloae iron prison, the nearer oould either see or
Iwntbe. One peculiuitr of the foregoing ipeci-
m«ii is, that the pUtes of the left arm are so
ample, that in doubling it for the management
of the bridle, they assumed the form and serred
the purposes of a shield. Such, we find from one
of his effigies, was a faToiirite kind of defence in
the armour worn by Warwick, "the king-maker,"
whose left-arm-brfi«e, when so closed, formed a
complete buckler. It was not siugular if an
angry disputant of this period should, like the
Duke of Northumberland, offer to fight out bis
quarrel in his shirt,' rather than enjoy the pro-
tection of such a horse- load of hameaa. Neither
would the matter have been greatly amended
by Hubatituting, for tlie panoply of chivalrous
pageantry, that of hot battle and hsjid-to-hand
struggle, more especially if the duels were to be
maintwned to the death. lu this case, the bulg-
ing, rounded breastplate piece, the lidgy plate-
work rising from arms and shoulders, the fluted
form of the principal parts of the armour, the
apron of chain-work, the voluminous defences of
plate and mail behind, to make a dishonourable
blow in that quarter impossible — all this must
have given the wearer the stiffness and unwieldi-
neas of movement, as well as the scaly appear-
ance of a tortoise or armadillo. Upon su"!) pro-
tections, even the heavy sword with which Sir
Thomas Peyton is fnmisbed could have made but
little impression; and the work of the combatanta
mutt have been more like that of two smiths at
the anvil, than the trial of two noble knights
adjusting a punctilio of honour. Perhaps one of
the wisest sayings of James I. was that in which
he commended suck unwieldy annour, as it pre-
vented a man from doing any injury as well as
from receiving any. In all these additions to the
original load of armed knighthood, we perceive
the multiplication of defences against gunpowder,
until they were all found equally useless, and
therefore thrown aside. This will be especially
seen in the figure of a demi-lancer of the period,
where the rounded corslet and ample cuisaes are
constmcted more in reference to the bullet than
■word or arrow, and where the armour descends
only to the knee, to allow the wearer more free-
dom in walking.

Jn passing from the home-life of the peasantry
and nobles to that of the middle classes, it is in the
cities they arscbiefly to be sought, and especially
in London, the great type and exemplar of the
mercantile towns of England. During the reign
of Henry VIII., an active stir had commenced for
the reparation of streets and highways in and
abont the metropolis; and the necessity for such
improvement is fully evidenced by the words of
the royal statute which was enacted for the pur-

pose. In granting permission to lay out a new
road in the weald of Kent, that formed an im-
portant thoroughfare to London, we are told,
that " many other common ways in the said
weald of Kent be so deep and noyous, by wear-
ing and course of water and other occasions, that
people cannot have their carriages or passages by '
horses, upon or by the same, hut to their great
pains, peril, and jeopardy.* Nor in approaching
London was the case in several instances amen-
ded, for the suburban districts, as yet only vil-
lages separated from the city by fields, gardens,
and a sprinkling of cottages, were connected with
the city by a highway often left in grievous dis-
repair through the negligence of the inhabitants.
Such was the case even with tbatgreat artery of
London, now ciilled the Strand, leading from Lon-
don to what was then the village of Cliaring.
Frequented though it was, and necessary for the
comfort of the city, yet this highway in the time
of Henry VIII. was described in the statute as
" very noyous and foul, and many places thereof
very jeopardous to all people passing and re-
passing as well on horseback as on foot, both in
winter and in summer, by night and by day."
Holbom was little better, being described by the
complaint of its inhabitants to the king, as so
" noyous, and eo full of sloughs and other in-
cumbrances, that ofttimes many of your subjects
riding through the said street and way, be iu
jeopardy of hurt, and have almost perished."
But this work of paving appears to have gone on,
by which miry highways were converted into
comfortable streets; and, as a necessary conse-
quence, village after villsge began to be absorbed
into the metropolitan mass by that progress of
London eipansion which has been going onward
to the present hour.

During the long reign of Elizabeth, London,
as was to be expected, had a principal share in
the increasing prosperity. This was manifested
not only iu its greater extension, but the filling up
of many of those blanks by whicb streets and
lanes had presented little more than a half-civic,
halt-rural character. But the extent to which it
bad attained during her reign can scarcely be dis-
tinctly understood, witbout a reference to the ac-
companying plan. Here we perceive, that the
Strand <ras built on both sides with the mansions
of the nobility, so that Westminster was joined to
London. We also find Hoiborn gradually advanc-
ing onward towards St Oilea'-in-the-Fields. In
the same manner, while Aldersgate Street had
made considerable progress, Goswell Street was
but a country road, and Islington a vilUge at
some distance from town; and though MootiSelds
remain clear up to London wall, yet Bishopegate
has extended far beyond the walls towards Shore-
ditch and Houndsditeh. Whiteehapel is already

»Googie

260

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[SocuL Statb.

reached, and buildiogs are beginaing to extend
beyond the Tower as far as East Smithfield.
CroBBing London bridge, or passing b; one of the
numerous wherries with which the river is peo-
pled, we find the beautiful church of St Ifary
Overies already surrounded by houses; the bear-
ganlen and theatre at Bankside ; and the High

Street ext«nding to St George's Church. But it
is impossible to convey a clear idea of the extent
of London at this period to any one unacquainted
with the modem metropolis, unless he compares
the plan here given with that of the London of
the present day.
The stately temples with which London was

i. l^bJ'i Qiorah

I. Bl. Oils', ClHppllglte.

A at. AstboD]
ti. St. Boiolph,

Kmtj Otbtj.

BE. TovIh lat St OUts
HoltnrD BridCK
FlHt Bridn,
Bttmnd Bridga
OoUdluU.

BilhlchHri BotpJUI.
Cr«br Plan.
BiUiDBanu.

BkTUid'i ChUs.

.. . „_ H»ll.

S. Pul[uiuDt Booh.
T. BoU'lHitinf Rlrw.
». B«r laltlilir^(i>Aani
UHaiobaTtiiUn],
t. Tha Taburd Idu.

0. NinbitliH PrlKn.

1. lIa^talot3I.Thoi

adorned at this period—tbe palaces of the no-
bles, especially ou the banks of the Thames,
with their gardens terminated at the river by a
wharf, at which was anchored the family barge,
and its fleet of attendant wherries — these, with
Westminster Abbey, and Old St Paul's Church,
we mnst for the present pass by, to contemplate
t)ie condition of the middle clnsses, who had
mainly created all this prosperity, and who were
now rapidly becoming the chief estate, as well aa
principal strength of the realm.
Ud entering th» ■trw'ta. tiie visitor from the

couutry found himself all at once in a murky
atmosphere, not merely from the cloudinerf of
sky over-head, but the architecture of the houses,
where each successive Bbiry rose broader and
broader, until the buildiugit on the opposite sides
of the way almost closed upoil each other at the
top. These timber buildings are still to be seen,
not only in the old towns of the Continent, but
also in a few streets and lanes of our own cities
that have resisted the march of modem improve-
ment It was not wonderful if, from the dose-
noM of these houses and their smallnsaa com-

,v Google

A-D. 1488-1601]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

261

p«i«cl witli the number of the inmntes, ventilation
should have been impeded, and the pestilence a
frequent vimtor in our towns. This evil was
farther aggravated hy the fixed windows, and
want of chimneTs in many of the dwelliiigs, bo
that no healthy current »x)uld pa«B through, to
arrest the cnraing of diseaae, or carry it away.

MIDDLE or TBI &TUND.— Tniii ■ TJav bf i. T. Umlth.

Tbeee " walla of sticks and dirt," as they were
contemptuously called by foreigners, were happily
contrasted, however, with the cleanliness, the
comfort, and even the elegance and tninry that
were to be found within, espedally in the houaea
of the wealthy merchanta and substantial citizeos.
These men were now almost as rich as the no-
bility; and except that they did not attend court
festivals, career in the tilt-yard, or wear the in-
signia of high rank and title, they eaw no reason
why their own style of housekeeping should
greatly vary from that of the nobles themselves.
This conclusion was manifested by the rich dresses
they wore, the costly furniture with which their
rooms were ornamented, and the plate that was
piled upon their side-boards; the Turkey carpets
that covered their chairs and tables, and the
cloth of arras ai\d silk that draped the walls of
the principal apartmenta. While the master of
such an establishment was pursuing
at the mart, his wife and daughters, dressed
style which vied with that of the court ladies, and
equally desirous to exhibit their finery, usually
took theirstatioDs at the windows or doors, to be

seen of men, and bow to the kiosing of hanib
that saluted them as their friends and admirera
passed by. And when they went out in the
evening to witness a play or public spectacle, or
to walk for recreation, although they had no ra-
pier-armed train of attendants, they still could
command a formidable retinue of the 'prentices
who lodged in the house, performed tlie duties
of meniids while learning their craft, and waited
upon their masters and miHtresses in these even-
ing strolls, each furnished with a tant«m or can-
dle, as well as a stout club which he carried upon
bis shoulder.

In mentioning these 'prentices, we introduce,
for the first time, to the reader, a comparatively
'; new class in England, too numerous, important,
and formidable, to be hastily dismissed. Even
already they were the representatives of mercan-
tile jealousy arrayed against aristocratic arro-
gance— of mercantile independence impatient of
the restrictions of royalty, and ready, if need
were, to give it battle and cast it off. From thu
period they are to be found in almost every Lon-
<lon riot and revolt, until they were finally the
conquerors at Marston Moor and Naseby. The
London 'prentices, at this time, not only dis-
charged the duties, but wore the dress of servi-
tude, which was a little flat cap stuck upon the
crown of the head, a blue cloak in summer, and a
blue coat or gown in winter; and a pair of round
slops or breeches, with stockings of white broad-
cloth attached to them. Although they were
generally the sons of substantial yeomen or
tradesmen, or even of a higher grade, and al-
though the wearing of a rapier had now become
general, yet this badge of a gentleman they were
by no means permitted to assume. Still, being
littie disposed to be driven to the wall, they
generally carried a stout bat or club; and as all
those of a ward were nnited in sworn fellowship
tike a sodality of knighthood, while all the wards
combined like regiments into one army,
they were able to retort with heavy interest the
disdain of the courtiers, or even the violence of
the martial ists. This wasoot Bll;forthByming)ed
with, or controlled every public commotion, so
that, as soon as the uproar commenced, the warn-
ing cry of " 'prentices ! dubs ! " was raised, and
" Up tbsn nw ttaa 'pnmtlin *U,
Diralling In Loodim, both profw uui taU,"

When not thus employed in active warfare,
they were generally to be found in training for
it; as a common sight in the etreeta, on summer
evenings, was that of groups of them practising
fence with " bucklers and wasters," before their
masters' doors.

While the houses of the merchants were so
sumptuously furnished towards the close of this
period, oompared with what they had been in

»Google

EI8TOEY OF ENGLAND,

[Social 9ta-tk

furmer dajg, the Btjle of living, in other
had undergoTM « correspondent improvement;
and with greater we&lth to spend, there was also
full inclination to enjoy it. This natural result
of the English chara<rter, which shone out so
brightlj in the " golden dajs," might have been
predicted so early aa the time of Alfred. The
success of a merchant, therefore, and the yearly
increaae of liia profits, could be best read upon
his dining-table, which might scarcely be seen
from the multitude of diehea with which it waa
covered. Besides thcee large well-dreased joints,
which formed the pith and substance of good
eating, and the dainties of fowl and venison by
which they were followed, them were puddings
composed of curranta, which were imported so
plentifully into Enghtnd for the purpose, that
the astonished Greeks, who shipped them, ima-
gined that they were going to be aeed for dyeing
cloth or fattening swine; and cakes of the finest
flour and choicest sugar, and foreign spices; and
dainty fruits, still of great rarity, such as quinces,
pomegranates, and oranges, which were eaten in
slioea with sugar; and the more common accom-
paniments of apples, pears, strawberries, and
other such home produce; and dried fruits, auch
an prunes, raiiuus, dates, and nuts; and opaque
ntarmaladea,aud transparent jellies of every form
and hue. But here we must adopt the quaint
tangnage of Stow, who exclaims, upon a similar
occasion, " To describe to yon the order, the
dishes, the subtleties, and strange devices of the
tame, I lack both a bead of fine wit, and also
cunning in my bowels, to declare these wonder-
ful devices.* England, indeed, was then, as it
ever had been, a land of good eating; and in the
]ireparation of its great national diah, " the old
English roast beef," it« cookery was unrivalled.
But here, again, lay the essential national difier-
enoe between EHuce and England. While the
cooks of the latter connti; required choice good
articles for their skill, without which it was
nought, those of the former could all but ortate the
articles oat of which a plentiful banquet was to
be made. Thus it was with the cook of Mar-
shal StTozd at this very period, who made an i
honest man eat, at unawares, a good portion of
his own mule, traiuforrned into excellent veni-
son; and who, at the capitulation of Iieith, re-
galed the victors with forty-five different dtsfaos
made out of the hind-quarter of a salted horse,
being all the provisions that remained in the gar-
rison. At the rich London citizen's dinner, while
the edibles to which we have referred were so
choice and various, the wines were of equal va-
riety and goodness, and those which, as yet, were
too acid or bitter for the unaophisticated taste of
the people, were sweetened with sugar, and aome-
tinice with the addition of lemon snd apices. It

is grievous to add, that a frequent aequel to such
a banquet^ at the close of this period, wss to-
bacco. This importation of Sir Walter lUleigh
into England quickly grew into such favour, that,
from Queen Elizabeth and the ladies of the court,
the practice of smoking descended through all
ranks until it rested with the utterly penniless,
who, like Captain Boliadil, could console them-
selves for the want of a dinner by a whiff' of
Trinidada. Men, therefore — and ladies too, it is
to be feared —usually carried about with them
the necessat; apparatus, which consisted of a to-
bacco-box containing tobacco that was supposed
best fitted fur use when it had been dried into
tinder; a priming-iron, ladle, and tongs, which
were made of silver and sometimes of gold ; and
thus furnished, nothing was wanting bat pipes,
which the msster of the feast was sure to have
ready in abundance. But the hourly demand
which a love of tobacco creates, was not to be
satiafied with mere formal opportunities of in-
dulgence, and therefore, in an incredibly short
space, tobacco ordinaries were to be found in
every street, to which cisring epicures might
retire, amidst the bustle of their wonted occu-
pations, and recruit themselves by a half-honr's
indulgence in their favourite luxury. We regret
to add that the ladies of England at this period,
besutiful though they were, were diatinguiahed,
in London, at least, by the blackness and rot-
tenness of their teeth, at which incongruous de-
fect foreign visitors were not a little puzzled, -
But perhaps the immoderate use of sugar and
tobacco, to which these ladies were addicted,
might account for this peculiarity.

The out-door sporta of Enghud have been
already sufficiently mentioned. While those that
rere strictly national continued to be practised in
ill their original simplicity, those which were of
later origin continued from one roign to another,
notwithstanding the [HXihibitions for their sup-
pression, in favour of archery practice among
the yeomatiry. These laws, in the time of Boury
VIII. especially, bore hard on public ganung-
houses, bowling-greens, tenni^and quoit^ against
which, however, his commands were as powerless
as that of Canute against the resistlesa advance
of the ocean. As for tilts and tournaments, with
their glorious stir of chivalrous enthusisam and
broken bones, these had almost wholly disappear-
ed during the roign of Elizabeth, and given place
to the trivial though graceful sport of riding M
the ring— a sport that, with the use of the horae-
mau's lance, which it was intended to perfect,
also passed away, at the coming of new forms of
warfaro. Nothing remained instead but hunt-
ing, which was pursued in a variety of ways,
sometimes with horse and hound, and sometimes
on foot. In the latter case, the game that could

»Google

A.:>. 148a- 1603]

nrSTORY OF SOCIETY.

2GS

Dot be run down was to be entrapped, in wliiuli
case, the huat«r approached it under cover
etalking-horee, that ia, the Sgure of a hone,
or stag made of canvas, which he carried before
him, and from behind which he could approach
Mid bring down his iinsUHpecting victim with
bow or arqnebuse, which was used indifferently
on these occaaions. Hawking had also been a
princely sport in Siigland, as in other couDtries,
forcenturieit; but as it likewise entAiled a princely
expense, which was now alienated into the new
style of living that had succeeded, the game was
abandoned, and the mewa, which liad formed an
essential portion of every great mansion, were
shut up or converted into coach-houses, by the
close of the present period. Fowling of course
became more common as a cheap substitute, aud
this was prosecuted not only with the light gun,
ctdled a birding-pieoe, but also with net, and
pipe-call, and other modes of enticement. But a
■till more excitiug active sport was that of horse-
tacing, which had at bst become national, and
from which the improvement of English horses
may be dated, the breeds hitherto in use having
been of very inferior quality, whether for war,
hunting, or travel. The example of giving a public
prize for victory in the horse-race was firat set
in the reign of Elizabeth, by
the saddlers of Chester, and
an eiaoiple so contagious
quickly became general over
the kingdom. The other out-
door sports of England at this
period were essentially of a
cruel and brutalizing charac-
ter. These were cock-fighting,
in which the creatures either
destroyed each other, or were
tied to the gi'ound and shied
at with cudgels, until they
were killed by a lucky throw ;
BD ape-chase, in which a poor
monkey was strapped to a
horse, and galloped hither and
thither, while the spectators
enjoyed the uncouth terrors
both of steed and rider; bull- the Bit«B a*

baiting, and bear-baiting. This
last amusement especially became so fashionable
in England, that the forests of the North were
now aa carefully ransacked for strong bears, as
formerly they had been for high-soaring falcons;
and in her royal progresses, Elizabeth and her
maidens were often regaled at the mansions of
the nobles with a toumaioeut of bear-baiting,
which they enjoyed with keen relish. Sudi was
the caae in that famous visit which the queen
nuule to the eaatle of Kenilworth, when thirteen
bears were baited for her amaaement. "It waa

a sport veiy pleasant of these beasts," says the
lively gossiping Ldneham, who witnessed the
exhibition, "to see the tiear with bis pinkey eyes
leering after his enemy's approach ; the uimble-
ness and wait of the dog to take his advantage,
and the force and experience of the bear again,
to avoid tiie assaults : if he were bitten in one
place, bow he would pinch in another to get free:
but it he were taken once, then what shift with
biting, with clawing, with roaring, tossing, and
tumbling, he would work to wind himaelt from
them; and when he was loose, to shake his ears
twice or thrice, with the blood and slaver about
his physiognomy, was a matter of goodly relief.'
It waa not thus, however, that the bear was always
allowed a fair Reld, with mastiCTa for his antago-
nists; for sometimes he was hood-wioked, and
surrounded by men with whips, who lashed him
unmercifully, while the sport consisted in wit-
nessing the bluuderiog attempts of the poor
blinded creature to escape his tormentors, by
stumbling hither and thither, and making vain
snatches at their weapons. In this way, bear-
baiting was converted iutoagameof bliud-mau's-
buff. These sports were not confined to the
country, but introduced into London, where they
formed an important part of c

that while bulls were baited in the vacant places
of the streets, large baildings were erected foi
bear-baiting and cock-fighting, and a flag hoisted
over the door or roof, warned the eager public of
the hour when the exhibition was to commence.
Another public amusement, in which the English
were distinguished above every other people, was
the ringing of bells, which they reduced to a
science ; aud nothing more astonished foreign
visitors, than to see the eagerness with which a
party of revellers would hurry from the tavern

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statk.

to the cliurch, and conun«iice & vigorcua chorus
of beU-rinc^ng, which they kept up for hours
without intenniaaion.

AmoDg the in-door sports of the English at
tliis period, those of the court hold the most con-
BpicuDUB place; and during the reign of Henry
VIII., and his minister Wolaey, tliesa palace ei-
hibitions had attained the height of regal magni-
flccnce. Still, however, there was a <
and barbarism about them, which two
female reigns could not wholly eradicate. They
chiefly consisted of masks, pageants, banquetinga,
iaterhide«, and allegorical plays— and the whole,
gathered itito one brilliant constellation to wel-
come and dazzle the most honoured of -royal
visitora, are still aa bright and intelligible as ever
in the mirror-like pages of Sir Walter Scott's
Kenilworih. Dancing, the amuaement of all
nations and ranks, was not likely to be neglected
during a female reign, and of all qucrna, auch a
one as Elizabeth, who danced "high and dia-
posedly," and rewarded the beat dancer of her
court with the chaucellorahip. Her beautiful
rival, Mary Stnart, who danced as well, perhaps
even better, had no such favourable opportunities
for its display in the sombre halls of Hotyrood,
and among her atem gray-bearded Preabytcrian
barons, as Elizabeth had in tha palace of Green-
wich, among the kneeling and adrairiog nobles,
and therefore the question of the latter to Mel-
ville, as t« which was the better dancer of the two,
sounded grievously like cmel mockery and in-
sult. The chief style of court dancing at this
time, seems t« have consisted of grave stately
movements; and the pavo or peacock, which
was the favourite dance, appeai-s to have been
so called, from ita imitating the march, attitudes,
anddisplay of that proud bird of beauty. It need
not surprise us to learn, that under the reign of
auch a sovereign as Elizabeth, and with auch
graceful accomplished courtiera as the Earls of
Leicester and Essex, Sir Christopher Hatton and
Sir Walter Raleigh, the English dancing was re-
uowned over the whole Continent. Downward
through every gradation of rank, from the palace
to the village hut or green, weut the practice of
dancing in all its manifold forms; but while
some of these were sufficiently innocent and
healthful, othera were as certainly indecoroos and
immoral, and hence the loud outcry that con-
demned the whole practice, both from the Puri-
tans of England and the Presbyterians of Scot-
land. Next to dancing, the games of skill and
chance come to be mentioned among the in-door
amusements; and foremost of these was card-
playing, which was equally practised by prince
and peasant. In Elizabeth's time, the games
■Mm to have been as various among card-players
■a they are at present, and finally calculated to

draw forth the utmost skill, and occarion the
most rninous loases ; so that, while a man might
peril his soul, like Falataff, by "forswearing him-
aelf at primero,* he might be cleaned out at gleek,
new-cut, bankeront, lodom, noddy, lavalta, prime,
trump, and such forma, of which little is now
but the names. Next to cards was baek-
'hich was now refloed into a sober in-
tellectual amusement, and adopted as a favourite
among the studious. Other house games, which
had long prevailed in England, were now about
to recede before the superior attractions of back-
gammon and cards, and to which we can only
aiFord a parting notice. These were: — Mereliea,or
orris, a game honoured by the men-
tion of Shakspeare,' and which was played upon
th board, divided into nine compartments,
at which a counter was jerked, while the aim
was to throw it into the one that numbered
highest. In the country, where this game was
frequently played in the open air, the sod sufficed
for a board, and the compartments were made
by nine holes dug in the turf. In Scotland,
wliere many of the old Anglo-Ssion sports com-
mon to both countries are still retained, there
exists in some rural districts the game of nine-
holes, which is played by ecbool-boys in the
same fashion. The games of shovel-board and
ahove-groat were improvements upon tha me-
telles: the table, of ten of the finest wood, was
divided into the same number of compartments,
and a groat or silver penny, impelled by a dex-
terous jerk of the paltn, was sent in quest of a
lucky number. Higher still than these, was the
game of draughts, uaually called tables, and pro-
bably derived from the more difficult one of
chess. As for the difierent modes of dicing, these
depended upon the caprice of the moment, or the
games to which they were auxiliary, and there-
fore need no deaeription. The dice, however,
were not only thrown by hand, as at present, but
also by a machine contrived for the purpose.
Tills waa a box or funnel, into which unmarked
dice were dropped, while a round board beneath,
that turned upon a pivot, and was marked with
tha different numbers, received them upon one
or other figure aa they fell. Perhaps it is un-
necessary to add, that besides taverns, eating-
houaes, smoking ordinaries, and other such placet
of public entertainment, gaming-houses had now
multiplied to a great amount over the whole ex-
tent of London.

Besides these general sports and amusements,
there were days set apart for festive observanceo,
in which all classes threw aside their cares, and

,v Google

A.D. 1485—1003.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

265

agreed to eat, driuk, and be merry. The firet of
these vhjch we would particularize was the let
of May- The celebration of this moat gladsome
of mouths was commenced bo early as mid-
night of the last day of April ; and as soon as
the twelfth hour had struck, every parish, vil-
lage, and town was alive with unwonted bustle,
and its inhabitants, male and female, betook
themselves to tlie fields and forests, accompanied
with a band of music, where they spent the houra
in merriment until morning had dawned, at
which time they returned to their homes, carry-
ing with them the branches of trees, and heaps
of wild flowers, with which they erected arbours,
and held a feast to welcome the coming of sum-
mer. But the chief object of their search was

a tail straight tree for a may-pole ;

ai:lect«d one suitable for the i

cut down, and conveyed to the town o

having
village,

sometimes by twenty or even forty yoke of oxen,
while each or had its horns wreathed with
flowers. The pole was then set up in the widest
opening of the street ; the people danced round
it during the greater part of the day, and after-
wards it remained uiltouched during the rest
of the year. As London of course deserved the
stateliest of may-poles, that which was erected
at the north-west comer of Aldgate Street, and
opposite St. Andrew's Church, was higher than
the steeple itself, and hence the church was called
St. Andrew-under-Shaft. Au evil destination,
however, awaited this pole, for, in 1617, the
London 'prentices raised such a desperate insur-
rection against the foreign dealers and artisans,
whom they meant utterly to extirpate, that, after
the uproar was quelled, and the gallows had
done its work, the towering pole was levelled,
and laid under the pent-house-lids of a row of
houses in Alleygate, thenceforth called Shaft
Alley, while the May festival of this year was
called " evil May-day." During the reign of
Elizabeth, the Puritan spirit regarded these
flower- wreathed may-poles, and the dances round
them, aa an abomination equal to the idolatry of
the golden calf, but was unable to effect their
suppression until the time of the Commonwealth;
when, by a decree of parliament, in 1644, every
may-pole in England and Wales was ordered
to be taken down, and none to be afterwards
erected. Another May game that was dear to
the people, was the play of Bobin Hood — this
patriot, robber, and outlaw having, by universal
consent, been commemorat«d as king of good fel-
lows, and lord of the May. On this occasion, the
fitting cbaract«ra for the pageant were elected ;
and besides Bobin himself, his fair mat«. Maid
Marian, who was lady of the May, Friar Tuck,
his chaplain. Little John, his lieutenant, and a
band of Sherwood archers, in Lincoln green,
figured in the play. Besides these appropriate
characters, the pageant was heightened by the
dragon and bobby-horse, that crawled or pranced
hither and thither, and a band of morris-dancers,
who capered in gay or antic attire, and with
small bells, toned according to the scale, fas-
tened to their elbows, knees, and ankles.'

Among the other seaaona of festive obeer-

■nnom, pmiahed bi
riding on a Joumtj 1
orer nJght lalo tbt

■• BdwiniVI.:— "1 a

dmnh door wu fiut lockad. I tirttad tfaar

to nH uul iHld, ' Sir» thii !■ a boij tUj with
JOB : it li RoUn Eood'i Otj : tfaa putih a

' tbfl pftriah ODEOf

pnfor RoblD Hood to Ood'i

Thk pti7 or pignut at Babln Hood, lutaid of bgtnf oonlaed
to Euglwid. wu ■!■> ■ hiourit* in BeMland, utd wu u di>-
t<wMlillaJo)uiKu«HtohliM«idLUInMr. On tUi •oooont

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENULAND.

[SocrAid State.

vance, may be mentioned St. Vnlentine'a Day,
the OBagea of which Are too well known to re-
quire pnrticulnv detail. The chief amuisement
upon that occBaioa waa the lottery of love, in
which prizes or-blsJika were drawn amidat much
repartee aad laughter, and the pairing of true
love-matee effected that was to hold for the rest
of the season — other circumstances permitting.
New Year's Day was also a joyous occasion,
aiid deemed of such importance, that it was
always uahered in with the ringing of bella from
an early hour in the morning. During the day,
presents were interchanged between penons
of all ranks; and when evening arrived, the
mighty wassail bowl was prepared, and carried
from door to door with shouting, singing, and
merriment, generally by the young women of the
village; and at each halt, the inmate of the
dwelling came out, drank a leau had to the
fair visitors, and best«wed on them a small
present in return. This was but a prelude to
the replenishing of the bowl in the eveniug, to
be emptied round the household hearth ; and on
this happy occasion, it was expected that all un-
kind feelings should be baried, and new friend-
ships cemented. Besides the day of St. Valen-
tine, there were other saints' days observed by
our British ancestors, either throughout the
island at large, or by separata portions of it«
population. Thus, there was St David's Day,
which was held on the 1st of March, and by the
Welsh, who claimed David as the tutelary saint
of their principality. On this day they were
wont to wear a leek in their hats or cape, aod
for this, various reasons have been assigned by
the old chroniclers, none of which, however, is
satisfactory. Every reader of Shakspeare can
recollect, as if he had seen with his own eyes,
Fluellin, with his leek, at the battle of Agin-
court, and how he made Ancient Pistol swallow
it some days after, when it hod become old and
stale. The leek still continues to be worn on
St. David's Day by every Welshman, generally,
however, made of tinfoil or silver, and sometimes
ornamented with jeweilery. Another national
saint, whose day was commemorated on the 17th
of Afarch, was St. Patrick of Ireland, and his
badge, worn on this occasion by the Irish, was a

tfl Iftndwul. In tuy tlma t

IK Soattiih furlik-
1 iwr LitUs Jdhn,
iBTwiH, na1tb«r In
;" but llm ut tud

I»llowm lu,lf .u brokan down, ud Ihg otbndtn
Notwithstanrtlng (Km adlotaot ths Swltldi pullinxn
pnKhbed tortlvil WM In mch high tk.oor In Sntlmnd
•van Co tba uidot tho otDtur, tha guienj wamhlf oompl

shamrock, a plant with which be is said to have
illustrated the doctrine of the Trinity, when he
converted their countrymen to Christianity. Aa
great numbers of the Irish had emigrated to
England, and settled in Pembrokpshire, during
the reign of Heniy VTIT., they introduced, not
only their wonted riotous observanoe of this day,
but tha national beverage with which it was
commemorated, by the distillation of whiskey,
then first known in England, but which soon
had a considerable sede over the whole kingdom.
The day of St. George, or the 23d of April, was,
as might be expected, a season of solemn obeer-
vance among the English, and espedolly during
that period when cbivalir had obtained full
ascendency. SL Andrew's Day (die 30th of
November) was the great period of religious fes-
tivalamongtheScots,whetherin their own coun-
try and England, or among those nations into
which their early love of wandering had carried

But besides these days that were devoted lo
the celestial guardians of England, Scotland,
Wales, and Ireland, the English had other saintt^
days, which the; signalized with peculiar obser-
vances. Thus, there was St Michael's Day, or
Uichselmas, held, as is welt known, on the 29th of
September. Why this day of all otheis was con-
secrated to the prince of the archangels, and why
its chief observance was the eating of a goose,
are questions that cannot be answered. Some
think, that when tidings arrived of the destruc-
tion of the Spanish Armada, Queen Elizabeth,
on this SOtb of September, was casually dining
upon a goose, and that the practice from that
period became a national and patriotic custom.
Others allege, that the practice was observed
at a much earlier period, and originated in an
old Lancashire usage of tlie farmers eating a
roasted goose on that day, probably because the
animal, at such a season, was in its best condi-
tion. On the 26th of December occurred the
fesitival of St Stephen, on which day, farmers
were wont to have their horses examined and
bled by the horse -doctors. Another practice
on this occasion was, to have a procession in
honour of the wren, which has been kept up in
many parts of England to the present day. It
is perhaps unnecessary to add, that whatever
might be the change of ceremonies on theae oc-
casions, they were all connected with the invari-
able accompaniments of eating, drinking, and
merry-making.

Aiter this transient mention of the set times
for honouring St Stephen and Michael the
Archangel, we must not forget Midsummer Eve,
or the "Eve of Good St John," as it was affec-
tionately termed in England, and sometimrs the
" Feast of John the BaptiaU" The rites with

,v Google

i..x>. 1486—1603.1

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

267

irhich it was celebrated reniind na of the ad-
vice given bj Pope Gref^oiy to St. Atiguatine;
wbicb waa in full Accordance with the spirit
and policj of Popeiy at large. This was, not to
abrogate the heathen feativals of tlie people, but
rather to turn them from a. profane to a sacred
use, bj consecrating them to the honour of the
Christian saiuts. In this waj, a daj devoted to
the Fhcenician or Druidicsl worahip of fire, and
Baal its lord, in nil probability^ '"<" transferred,
with ita rites and ceremonies untouched, to the
guardianahip of the blessefl precursor of Chris-
tianity. Upon the arrival of this vigil of St.
John, the inhabitants of the towns and villages
of England, men, women, and children, used to
repur to make merry round a huge bonfire
kindled iu some convenient spot; and the chief
sport of the jaaag men on this occasion was, to
leap n^udly over or through the flame, and with
snch dexterity as to escape a scorching. Was this
a lingering utemoriAL of that " passing through
the fire" so connected with the idolatry of the
Canaanitish national The other sports of the
young and active on these occaatons were danc-
ing, wrestling, and running races. It was in
London, however, that the full blaze of a " Mid-
summer Eve' was the most resplendent. Not
only were large bonflres kindled in the open
places of the city, but the streets were further
illuminated with glass lamps, white the doors of
the houses were shaded with branches of green
birch and orpin, long fennel, and SL John's
mah, called at that period "Midsummer men."
But the chief ceremonial in the metropolis waa
"setting the watch,' by which the city was to be
protected by night during the whole year; and
an afikir of such importance waa conducted not
only with solemn religious ceremonial, but also
with all the splendour of a great national fea-
tival. On this oecaaion, the lord-mayor and the
civic officers, tiie city minstrels and waits, the
morris-dancers and henchmen, formed the head
of the prooessioa ; while B40 blazing cressets,
each cresset having a man to carry and another
to trim it, composed a flaming river of light,
under which the bonfires themselves, as the pro-
cession passed them, must have turned pale.
The watch itnelf, to which the guardianship of
each part of the city was to be consigned, was
not the least brilliant part of this gorgeous onaiy ;
for it consisted of 2000 men, part of them "demi-
lances" mounted on powerful war-horses, part
of them footmen equipped with the weapons of
this transiljon period, and forming a connecting
link between Ute ancient and modem warfare.
Thus, there were troops of musketeers anned
with arqnebuse and wheel-lock ; archers in
white coats with their bows bent, and a sheaf of
arrows at their aides; billmen with their long

heavy brown weapons, and their bodies protected
by loose frocks of chain armour-, and pikemeu
wearing smartly -polished corslets. Then, too,
there were the constables of the night watch
clothed in harness of shining steel, and each
wearing a gold chain over his scarf of bright
se&rlet. Still, tbia march, however warlike and
important, would have been insufficient as a
London procession, without the Dagons of civic
idolatry; and therefore, high over not only every
honoured head, but every banner and cresset,
towered the gigantic images of Gog and Magog,
that were brought out from their shrines for the
occasion, and borne gallantly along by their stag-
gering but zealous supporters. Such waa the mode
of setting the watch in London during the present
f>eriod of our history. The practice had been iu-
Btttuted by Henry III. in coneequence of the pre-
valence of street conflicts and robberies, and it
had been appointed not only for London, but all
thecitieeand borough towns throughout the realm.
Bnt in 1639, Henry VIII, put down the watch,
upon the plea of ita costlinesa ; and to make
amends for the suppression, he exercised such a
vigorousguardianshipover the public safety, that,
according to Harrison, 72,000 great thieves, petty
thieves, and rogues, were hanged during hia
reign. Many attempts were made to revive the
practice, but unsuccessFiilly, except in 1548, when
the wateh was set on St. John's Eve, during
the mayoralty of Sir John Greaham. But this
waa the last gleam in the socket, after which the
streets of London were doomed to perennial
darkness, and a "sutnitantial standing watch for
the safety and preservation of the city," was ap-
pointed in 1569. London was indeed a city of mid-
night darkness, not only up to the close of this
period, but long afterwards; and although lighte
and lanterns wore ordered to be hung out at
houae-windowBordoorSfbetwiKt All-Hallows and
Candlemas, while the watchman bawled him-
self hoarse with the regular cry of hia round,
"Hang out your lights!" the duty was easily
evaded, and therefore generally neglected. In
the reign of Queen Mary, a sagacious mayor en-
deavoured to enforce the regular call of the
watchman by furnishing him with a bell, which
continued to be rung till the time of the Com-
monwealth; and thus, the night patrol of Shaks-
peare's days could admonish the sleeping citizens
about their darkened premises, both by shout
and knell. Besides these sounds of city guar-
dianship, none other was to be heard, for by the
" Statutes of the Streets," enacted in the time of
Elizabeth, no man was to blow any horn dur-
ing the night, or to whistle after nine o'clock,
on pain of imprisonment ; nor to make any sud-
den outciy in the still of the night, like one
making any afihiy— nor even "to occasion any

,v Google

IlISTOHY OF ENGLAND,

[SOCIA

noiae by beatiug his wife!" Huw tliese rulen
were observed, aad Low order was kept uuder
auch a. regimen, the houses of the rich burghers
that were untiled, the purses that disappeared,
and the "peaceable watchmen' who followed

Dogberry's adviue about ahunniug a, knnve aod-
comfortiog themselves with a nap, cau best in-

The heatheuiam, both of Phceuician and Teu-
tonic origin, which adhered to the observance of

ij T. 8. Boji from Ilia origiuli it OuUdhiUl.

saintrf days iu England, v
cuoue in those important
set apart for the
demptioD. And, first of all, was the celebra-
tion of Easter. Even the name has anything but
a Christian aspect, and was probably derived
from the goddess Enstor, whom the Saxons wor-
shipped, and who is supposed to have been the
same with the ancient Eastern goddess Astarte.
A week before the arrival ot Easter, a common
custom in England was to bring a twisted tree,
or teithe, into the king's palace, and the

ot the nobility and gentry, with noisy congratu-
lations and rejoicings. Then came Palm Sun-
day, in which the people commemorated Christ's
triumphal entry int« Jerusalem by walking
with palm branches in their hands, or, at least,
with such substitutes as the foliage of England
afforded. Maundy Thursday, the day before
Good Friday, followed, in which Christ's hu-
mility in washing the feet of his disciples was
commemorated. It had long been the practice of
the proudest sovereigns and princes of Christen-
dom to imitate, or at least to ape, this Divine

n old book, «

nod Oofnuiog. Tha flnt of ttios umt* Aeun Id ttia tndKioi
kij hiMtorj of BriWn, >• ona of (hn TtoJho (ollowiin of Bmtii
in bla oouquatt o "

nld of tti

1 Snd anotharianlonof Iha Indllli
breritjr'a mkm, tha mora alaajc lutoa wu droppad, uid
Lt of Ocgnu^og dWided batwaan tba two ffigitntlc wtrden of
iJdtiAll. Than Appaar to h*Ta baan aavaml nproductlou of
■• Ogiina, ud thuH of ui laTllar pariod ira uid to faaia
Bi (MiMdof wlokarwort. Rilflald.

n b«h antarulnmait of

of Jimo II. utl bU qusan, being pluad on ■ nfl on lbs riiar
oppoajta WhltalulJ, In ftonlof ft buga p^rvizild of BmrorkH, tha
dlaplA^ of wMab Lutad nn hoar." Ths praHnt itUBfB ua tha
work of B oortain CipUin Blchud Hdudan, who dwalt in Klnf
Slnst. Chiapuda, ud wm bii aminant isnsr. Tha^ wan lat
np Id auildbali about irOS. Tha; «w>d origlnallj on > b>lDOB;
on Iba iK»th ilda of tba hill. Tba Itgora on tba rlflit laui aa

. They unit ■ppaur in hiitoiT on

nt u andant Biilan.

»Google

A.D. 1135-1603.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETV.

examjile; aud thia tliey did liy kneeling before
twelve mendicauts, whose feet they washed id
open court, and whom they afterwards Itiaaed
with brotherly condescension, and diamissed with
presents. Sometimes, however, to render this
loathly office more tolerable, the feet of the pau-
pers were previously purified, and the water
with which thay were laved by the dainty hands
of royalty was sweetened with perfumes. The
day itself was called Haundy in Enj^land, in con-
sequence of the viaund, or basket, in which the
alms and gifts were carried for distribution, aft«r
the washing was finished. Sometimes, instead of
being limited to twelve, the number of Christ's dis-
ciples, the paupers were as numerous as the years
in which the master of th« ceremony had lived.
The evening before Easter, called "Holy Satur-
day," was a night of vigil ; and when twelve o'clock
struck the triumphant cry was raised, which is
still heard in the Greek church, " He Is risen!"
and the sua, at rising, was anxiously watched, as
it was supposed that on this occasion its rise was
accompanied with a joyful dancing motion in
honour of Christ's resurrection. Easter or pasche
eggs were prepared for the festival, by being
boiled hard and tinged into every colour, which
the people presented to each other as congratu-
latory gifts of the season. Ou Euater Day, also,
the courts of law were opened, probably for the
purpose of imparting to their proceedings the
sanctions of religious conaecratiou. The Easter
holidays were generally celebrated by games at
hand-ball for tansy cakes, dancing, and other
amusements. In London and at Oreenwich,
Easter Monday was a joyooa day for the citizens,
as it was then that the annual hunt in Epping
Forest was held. Another amusement, practised
during these holidays, called luaBing, conaiated
in the female servants of a house placing the
master, or gentleman present, in an arm-chair
decorated with ribbons, then lifting and turning
it round, after which process the sitter received
a salute from each, and bestowed a trifling pre-
sent in return. On the Tuesday that followed
the second Sunday after Easter Day, was the fes-
tival of Hock-Tuesday, also called Binding-day,
because on this occasion people were wont to
bind each other in sport, but chiefly tlti
the men, thus commemorating, it was said, the
deliverance of England from the Danes at thi
death of Hardicanute. As such days could not
pass without correspondent jollity, the Easter-
ales were held in the church-yard, where opened
casks were nearly as abundant as tombstones,
and where the swilling villagers and townsfolks,
who repaired to these strange revels, pud a large
price for their good cheer, which was devoted " to
pious uses." Such were the "fancy fidrs' and
"charity sales" of the sixteenth century. As

the clergy found these church-ales so profitable,
and this mode of opening the hearts and purses
of men so easy, they bad also their Whitsun-ales,
which were of the same description as those of

But of all the holidays and saints' days with
which the calendar was crowded, none were to
ipared to the festival of Christmas, which
the English celebrated in a manner different, in
many respects, from every other Christian people,
combining in it all the freedom of the Roman
Saturnalia, and the wild festivals of Thor and
Odin, with the sanctions and religious observ-
ances of the Christian church. What, indeed,
could be expected, from the following note of
preparation 1 -^

First, all the wild heads of the parish, con-
venting together, choose them a grand captain
(of mischief), whom they ennoble with the title of
my Lord of Misrule, and him they crown with
great solemnity, and adopt for their king. This
king anointed chooseth for him twenty, forty,
threescore, or ahundred lusty-guta like to himself,
to wait upon his lordly majesty, and to guard his
noble person. Then, every one of these his men
he investeth with his liveries of green , yellow, or
some other wanton colour. And, as thongh that
were not gaudy enough, they bedeck themselves
with scarfs, ribbons, and Ucea, hanged all over
with gold ringa, precious stones, and other jewels;
this done, they tie about either leg twenty or
forty bells, with rich handkerchiefs in their
hands, and sometimes laid across over their shoul-
ders and necks, borrowed, for the most part, of
their pretty Mopaiea and loving Besaies, for kiss-
ing them in the dark. Thus, all tbinga set in
order, then have they their hobby-horses, dra-
gons, and other antics, together with their bawdy
pipere and thundering drummers, to strike up the
devil's dance withal; then march these heathen
company towards the church and church-yard,
their pipers piping, their drummers thundering,
their stumps dancing, their l>ells jingling, their
handkerchiefs swinging about their heads like
madmen, their hobby-horses and other monsters
skirmishing amongst the thi-ong; and in this sort
they go to the church (though the minister be at
prayer or preaching), dancing, and swinging their
handkerchiefs over their heads in the church like
devils incarnate, with such a confused noise that
no man can hear his own voice. Then the fool-
ish people, they look, they stare, they laugh, they
fleer, and mount u[>on forms aud pews to see
these goodly pageants solemnized in this sort
Then, after this, nbout the church they g<o' again
and again, and so forth into the church-yard,
where they have commonly their summer halls,
their bowers, arbours, and banquetiug-houaee set
up, wherein the; feast, banquet, and dance all

• Google

270

HrSTORV OF ENGLAND.

[SociAi, Statb.

that day, and peradventure all tbat night too.
And thus these terrestrial furies spend the Bab-
bath-daj. Then, for the further eaDobling of
this honourable lurdan (lord, I Bfaould aej), they
have also certain papers, wherein is painted some
babbleiy, or other of imagery work, and these
they call tny Lord of Misrule's badges; these
they give to every one that will give money for
them, to maintain them in this their heathenry,
devilry, drunkennesa, pride, and what not. And
who will not show himself buxom to them, and
give them money for these the devil's cognizances,
they shall be mocked and flouted at shamefully;
yea, many times carried upon a coulataff, and
dived over head and ears in water, or otherwise
most horribly abused. And so besotted are
some, that they will not only give them money
to maintain their abomination withal, but also
wear their badges and cognizances in their hats
and caps openly. . . . Another sort of fantastical
fools bring to these hell-hounds (the Lord of Mis-
rule and his complices), some bread, some good
ale, some new cheese, some cakes, -some flauns,
some tarts, some oeam, some meat, some one
thing, some another."'

Such a master of the Christmas revels suffi-
ciently indicated how the season would be spent.
His reign lasted from All-hallow Eve-^that is,
the last day of October — till the Purification,
or Zd of February. The office, too, of such a
mad Comus and his crew was not confined to
country villain and jolly rustics; on the con-
trary, every noble mansion and even the royal
palace, the grave civic corporations and learned
inns of court, had their Lord of Misrule, whoee
authority in mischief and mirth-making was ab-
solute and unlimited. Sometimes, also, the title
was altered; thus, in Lincoln's Inn he was called
the King of Christmas Day; and at court, where
his office sometimes assumed a clerical character,
his title was Abbot of Unreason. When the
season had arrived in which the festival days
were to be observed, all classes threw aside their
wonted occupationfl ; care was banished and in-
duatry suspended, while the whole island reeled
with dmnkennees and dancing, and rang with
the echoes of bell-ringing, Christmas carols, and
street merriment and shouting. Then came
Cbristmaa Day itself, in which, as might be ex-
pected, the worship was most fervent, as well as
the revelry most abundant; and in the houses of
the rich a boar's head formed the principal dish
of the banquet, which was ushered into the hall
with much state, and the singing of a Christmas
carol composed in Latin. But the most impor-
tant ceremony was that of the Yule-log, which,
on Christmas Eve, was drawn int« the house and
lighted upon the hearth, where its burning was

watched with much solicitude, as an omen of the
future fortunes of the inmates. Ths largest log
that could be found was usually selected for this
purpose, and if it continued to bum the whole
night and ensuing day, this was hailed as a [»«-
mise of Divine favour and protection. It was no
doubt arelic of the fire-worship of the Phcenicians.
The last day of the year, and New Year's Day,
which followed in course, were held in the man-
ner we have already described. On January S,
the eve or vigil of Epiphany, the revelries re-
ceived a fresh impulse by a round of new ob-
servancea, the chief of which was the chooung of
the King or Queen of the Bean. This was done
by breaking a cake, and distributing the piec«a
among the company, and whosoever was so lucky
as to find in his portion the bean that had been
baked into the cake, was declared the sovereign
of the season. On the day of Epiphany itself
was elected a Bishop or Archbishopof Fools, and
this act was performed with profane parodies of
the church service, and of the most solemn rites
of an episcopal installation. In a still more ob-
jectionable fashion, however, this practice was
observed in foreign countries, and especially in
the Papal dominions themselves, where tJie people
were wont to elect a Pope of Fools. As if thia
also had not been a suflicient profanation of things
considered most sacred, a similar practice waa
observed on the fast of St. Nicholas, or Innocent's
Day, in the election of the Boy Bishop. A strip-
ling, generally a child of the church choir, waa
invested with mitre, crozier,and pontifical array,
while his juvenile companions were dressed like
priests; and, thus attired, they took possession of
the church and performed mass, after which the
boy-bishop preached a sermon with solemn gri-
mace to the listening multitude, who, on this
merry occasion, were sure to be punctual church-
goers. These rites being finished, the mock bishop
and hii assistants paraded the town, and collected
money for their own behoof. The chief place of
this exhibition in England, which was common
also over the Continent, was the church of St.
Paul's, in London. Henry VIII., considering
that the play of the boy-bishop savoured too
much of profanity, decreed its abolition; but it
was such a popular amusement that it kept its
ground for some time afterwards, in spite of his
prohibition. FoilowingTwelfth-day,or Epiphany,
was Plough-Monday, which was held on the first
Monday after. On thisday ploughmen went from
house to house requesting plough-money, to be
spent in drinking. Another form of ceremony
on the same occasion, was to parade the fool-
plough (supposed to be a corruption of Yule-
plough), in procession, which waa dragged along
by a number of sword-dancers, attended by a
'; band of music, and accompanied by sevemi people

,v Google

,. 1485—1603.]

HISTOKY OF SOCIETY.

271

fantAstically dressed. One ot these mummera,
who oRiciated as the fool or jeeterot the pageant,
was clothed in hairy akins, and a cap of the same
ntsterial, with a long tail dangling from bebinil,
while his mate, called Bessie, was a maa dressed
like an old womau. In this way they marched
aloiifc, oollecting money from hoose to house in
honour of the fool-ploagh; and if any wan so
hardy as to refuse, the ground was ploughed up
before his door, by way of braodbg him as a
churl. This practice is still kept up in some
parts of the north of England, where it a]^>ears
to have originated.

It will be seen at once that all these foregoing
observances, some of which dated from the intro-
duction of Christianity into the English heptar-
chy, and others from a stiU earlier period, could
not long maintain their ground against the chan-
ges and revolutions in manners and character that
had now reaistlessly commenced. The growing in-
telligence of the people began to despise them, the
atem rules of Uie Reformation condemned them,
and the severe spirit of PDritauism swept them
away. Nothing of them has survived the storm
but a few relics, which like mina attest the com-
pleteness of the overthrow.

In the history of the progress of Learning, the
fifteentli century will ever constitute the most
important of epochs: it was then that the un-
locking of its repertories by the taking of Con-
stantinople, and the new mode of communicating
its treasures through the invention of printing,
accomplished in a single generation the woric of
hgea, and impressed a new character upon Europe.
Happily, too, this progress commenccKl by laying
a solid foundation — by the erection of schools and
colleges, through which the newiy acquired trea-
■ures were to be prepared for universal diffusion.
Such was the case in England, where between the
close of the fifteenth, and little mora than the mid-
dle of the sixteenth century, eight new collef{;es
were founded in the university of Oxford, and as
many in that of Cambridge, while the endow-
ment of grammar-schools in London, and other
parts of the kingdom, during the same period,
rivalled the newly-escitad zeal for the erection of
princely collies. In the establishment of these
institutions also, we find, that lAtin was no
longer deemed sufficient, and that Gi-eek formed
the most essential part of their eumeulum. It
waa not, however, without strong opposition that
this inaovatioa was accomplished, for the old
■ebolsrs were not only indignant at a novelty by
which their own literary importance was les-
sened, but religious bigotry wbs alarmed at the
introduction of the study of Greek, because it
waa identified with the commencement of the
Beformation, and the new readings of Scriptura.
Bnt as soon as Protestantism begaa to obtain the

ascendant in England, the acquirement of Oreek,
and even of Hebrew, aa well as lAtin, was re-
garded as a necessary accomplishment of thorough
scholarship. Even this eiteoaiou, too, upon
which the progress of the Reformation so greatly
depended, was in the first instance favoured in
mauycMsesby the champions of the ancieut faith.
Among these, may be mentioned Cardinal Wol~
eey and Bishop Fox, Sir Thomas More and
Bichard Face, themselves accomplished schobirs
in the new learning, and therefore all the more
eager to promote it. Even Henry VIII. him-
self, who possessed more learning than mo^t
sovereigns of his day, was a patron of the study
of Greek, though a persecutor of Protestantism.
When only a younger son, his father had educa-
ted him for the church; and thus, it may he, that
in the course of events, the future "Defender of
the Faith' missed the Popedom, through the ac-
cident of succeeding, by the death of his elder
brother, to the throne of Ekigland.

While learning was thus encouraged, and the
means of its acquirement so greatly facilitated,
we must still remember that little more than a
solid foundation as yet was laid, and that hap-
pier times were needed for carrying on and com-
pleting the superstructure. The revival of learn-
ing needed a previous work of demolition, and
that, too, not merely in literary but religious
belief. Not only the old philosophies were de-
throned, but the monasteries as wall as schools
that were attached to them were suppressed; and
a transition period followed, in which reflective
minds were at a loss not only aa to what they
should study, but what they diould believe and
worship. Hence, scholarship waa rather of an
individualthanageneral character,and the names
of the accomplished men of England during the
whole of this period may be easily enumerated.
Bat these very difficulties only the more invigo-
rated this chosen band in their efforts, and the
result was exhibited in the production of such
scholars as would have equalled the list of any
succeeding age. Here, the names of Cardinal
Pole, Sir Thomas Smith, Sir John Cheke, and
Boger Ascham, will occur ; of Leland, Lily, and
Colet ; of Orocyn, Linacre, and Dr. Walter Hod-
den; of Archbishop Parker, and Bishop Andrews;
and superior to them all, of Sir Thomas More.
But this extraordinary passion for learning in the
midst of general ignorvoce, when few of the com-
mons even yet could sign their own names, was
not exclusively a characteristic of the stronger sex.
This was also in a remarkable degree an age of
learned ladiea, and perhaps no subsequent period
in the history of England could exhibit such
an amount of female erudition. The example
that was set by royalty itself during this period
of female sovereignty, must have in no smidl do-

»Google

272

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statk.

gree contiibated to Buch acbange. Thus, Queen
Mary wrote with ease ajid elegance in Latin,
French, and Spanish. Her eister, Elizabeth,
beeidea being a proficient in these languages, as
welt as Italian, was an accornplisbed Grecian,
and translated laocrates. Equal in scholarship,
and greatly superior in tAste, was I^dy Jane
Grej, whose favonrite author was Plato in the ori-
ginal, and the study of whose laat hours was the
Greek Teetament The three daughters of Sir
Anthony Coke were also famed for their varied
and classical erudition, to which the youngest
added the study of Hebrew, in which she became
an apt scholar. To these may be added 'M.n.
Roper, the daughter of Sir Thomas More, and
Mrs. Clement, his kinswoman, who inherited
his learning as well as his virtues ; Joanna Lady
Lumley, and Mary Duchess of Norfolk, her sis-
ter, and Uary Countess of Arundel. To these
female examples of clasBical attainments several
others might be added, for in the court of Queen
Elizabeth, and among her maids of honour, the
acquirement of Greek, and the study of Plato,
bad become a fashionable accomplishment. Still,
however, as in the case of the learned men of the
day, these ladies were prodigies that stood out
the more conspicuously, on account of the gene-
ral ignorance with which they were surrounded.
This may easily be perceived when we remember,
that the common education of ladies of the high-
eat rank at this season was, " to read and write ;
to play upon the virginal, lute, and cittern; and
to read prick-song at first sight.'

As the English mind during the whole of this
period had been struggling to create a literature
of its own, instead of being wholly dependent
upon that of Greece, Rome, or Italy, the native
language in which it was to be embodied was con-
stantly acquiring a wider compass, and more
harmonious character. As this course of improve-
ment also had cconmenced in poetry, as is com-
monly the case in every country, the list of illus-
trious poetical names in England, from Chaucer
to Shakspeftre, throws the writers of prose into
the shade. A long interval, however, had to
continue after the time of Chaucer and his im-
mediate successors, before the English muse pro-
duced anything worthy of its original cbaraoter;
and it was not until the wars of the Roses had
ended, that even anything like an attempt was
hazarded. The first name that appears in this
list of revival is that of Stephen Hnwes, who
wrote during the reign of Henry VII. He was
the sncceseor of Lydgate, whom he imitated,
and whom he may be said to have surpassed; and
like him, he not only modemiied the language,
but greatly Improved ita versification. His chief
work, entitled, Ptutimg of Pleamre, or Hi^ory of
Oraiid Amour and La Belle PuctUe, although

written about a.d. 1503, was not print«d till
twelve years after, when it appeared from the
press of Wynkyn de Worde. The estimate
formed by Warton of Hawes is, that he was the
first writer who dared to abandon the dull taste
of his own age, for the inventiveness and brilliant
style of Chaucer. Contemporeiy with Hawes, was
Alexander BarkUy, whose beat work, the SAip
of FooU, was published in 1909. This poem, ori-
ginally written in German by SebasUan Rrand,
Barkky has not only translated, but greatly en-
larged with a description of the follies of hisown
countrymen, so that his translation posseasea
most of the merits of an original production.
And yet, these two poets, it must be acknow-
ledged, were at the best little more than imita-
tors r they lacked the daring of original genius,
and were more intent upon the choice of words
and smoothness of measure, than the discovery
of new trains of thought. In this fashion, how-
ever, tliey successfully prepared the way for
greater geniuses than themselves.

In passing from the English poetry of the pe-
riod of Henry VIL, to that of his successor, the
first name which occurs is that of John Skelton.
He was bo accomplished a scholar, tliat Erasmus
called him the "delight and ornamentof English
literature,' and the Latin verses of which be was
the author were characterized by classic elegance.
But it was as an English poet that he was chiefly
distinguished, in which character he became po-
pular not only by the rattling vivacity of his
verses, but the severe lampoons he wrote upon
Cardinal Wolsey, who in requital chased the
bold bard into the sanctuary of Westminster,
where he died in 1CS9. But besides vivacity,
Skelton had little poetic merit, and his works,
which were numerous, are now of as little ac-
count as the persons he satirized. A better
poet, or perhaps we should say, versifier, was
William Boy, the coadjutor of Tyndal in the
translation of the New Testament into English,
— like Skelton, a severe satirist of Wolsey, and
who, finally, for his labours in behalf of the Re-
formation, suffered martyrdom at the stake. His
chief work, published soon after the burning of
Tyndal's translation, was distinguished by the
following quaint title : -

Under the poetic and religious wrath of Boy
against the cardinal, the English language seems
to acquire a force and amplitude hitherto undis-
covered. The following brief specimen from the
.above-mentioned poem, will convey a slight idea,
not only of his style of versification, bnt the con-
dition of the language itself at this period: —

" O pflTT^n* prosta, pMlri*rka of prrda,
MnrUunr irilti ut mirqi luat tuonbla ;

»Google

l-D. 1485—1603.1

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

273

U bawtLj timthsll. of bwdir Ui
Dirlfng* of th« dmlLl. ffntlj d(
Aba I iriiu wnlsh wolda be « TwigaUsI
At nv tjDH to mttflCDpte uoba Impedi&aDt,

'^ O p47nt«d paatoun, oT Bktaa Um prophM,

0 butchulf BLHhap, Co be 4 nler aiu]]«te,

God gnant Iba gnoo now to bi«TniH
Of tbj duapnkbla ^Am to bs psnitflat.

Brennjng Ooddli word*, tlw wbolr TntuiMnt."

Another poet of this period naa John Eeywood,
who wu author of Sue Centuries of Epigrami,
a nnmber of plays, and a huge cootroversial
allegory, ODtitled A ParaUt of the Spider atid
tka Fig, in which the Bomiah anil I^testuit
churches are persouified. But nothing that he
has written can now attract the notice of any
one, untesB he is some zenlous bUck-lettet atiti-

After this twilight of Englixh poetry wliich
succeeded the period of Chaucer, wherein the
only h'ghta were at hest mere stara, a new morn-
ing began Ui dawn, the happy promise of which
was afforded in the writings of Lord Surrey and
Sir Thomas Wyatt The life of the first of these
poets was itself a poem. The son of the victor of
Flodden, and trained not only in every martial but
every literary accomplishment, Henry Howard,
Ewl of Surrey, was not only the ornament of the

UiKKr Uowiui, Karl uT Sumj.^Ana TiUan.

court of Henry VIII., which he attended iu the
capacity of companion to the Duke of Richmond,
natural son of his sovereign, but of the stil! more
chivalrous and brilliant court of Francis I. His
travels on the Continent were those of a scholar
and knight-errant, and the vision which he beheld
in Agrippa's magic mirror, of his lady-love, the
Vol. II.

"Fair Geraldine," whom he has bo uobly perpe-
tuated in verse, excited him to such a transport
of enthusiasm, that at a tournament in Florence
he challenged all who could handle a lance — Turk,
Saracen, or cannibal — to dispute agiunst him her
claims to the supr«macy of beauty, and came off
victorious. But the well-known hatred of the
tyrant Henry against the whole race of Howard,
prematurely eittuguishad this bright promise of
excellence, and Surrey, the last victim of the
royal murderer, periehed on a scaffold at the
early age of twenty-seven. His poetical works
were a collectioQ of songs and sonnets, a trans-
lation, in verse, of Solomon's Eccleslastes, and a
translation, in blank verse, of the second and
foorthbooksof Virgirs.^n«M^. In estimating the
character of Lord Surrey as a poet> we find him
so greatly in advance of his {»«decessors, aa to
be justly considered the first in order of the new
poetical school upon which the tlteraty character
of England is founded. Like Chaucer, he adopted
the poetry of Italy for his model ; and while he po-
lished hia native tongue into a refinement which
it had not hitherto exhibited, he avoided the arti.
ficial and quaint style of his instructors, and ex-
pressed his sentiments not only in the language
of genius, but that of nature also. Among his
merits it ntay be noticed, that he was the first
of English writers who attempted blank verse,
which he did in his translations from Virgil i but
whether he invented this innovation or borrowed
it from the Italian, it is impossible to determine.
Sir Thomas Wyatt, whose name ie usually asso-
ciated with that of Surrey in the history of the
revival of English poetry, was father of that un-
fortunate person of the same name who was ex-
ecuted for rebellion in the reign of Mary, and
with whom he has been frequently confounded.
This poet, one of the brighteet omamentg of the
court of Henry VIII., where he lived in close
friendship with the Earl of Surrey, is also said
to have been an ardent lover of Anne Boleyn,
before she sacrificed lierhopes of domestic happi-
ness to the alluremente of ambition, and the
precarious love of a tyrant. Asa poet. Sir Tho-
mas Wyatt neither reached the graceful flow of
language, nor tenderness of sentiment by which
the writings of his illustiious friend are disUn-
guished; but to compensate for this, he occa-
wonally exhibits greater strength and depth of
feeling, He died in 1542, only four years before
the other perished on the scaffold. The effect of
(heir example may be easily recognized in the
classical style and versification of their immediate
successors. These were Lord Vaux, Nicholas
Orimoald, and Thomas Sackville, whose poetry
IjelongB to the reign of Mary. The first of these
poete, of whom but a few relies remain, is chiefly
remarkable for the small poem,enti tied, "Theagod

141

,v Google

274

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social State.

Lover renoanceth Love,' from which Shakapeare
borrowed three stanzas, which he has pat into the
mouth of his gravedigger in "Hamlet." Ah for
Orinuudd, who was cbapliuu to Bishop Bidlej,
and saved himself bj recantatioQ wheu hia supe-
rior suffered martyrdom, hia veraes are distin-
guished by much sweetness both of sentiment
and language, white in blank verae he success-
fully followed the example that had been set by
the Earl of Surrey. Thomas Socknlle, bom in
1S36, commenced his career as a poet while Btill
a very young man, and student of law in the Inner
Temple. Here it was that he planned "The Mir-
ror for MagiBtratea," which, written upon the
plan of Dante's/)t/«m«, wastogiveadetailof the
misfortunes of the great in English history; and to
this collection he contrihnted the " Induction,' and
the "Legend of the Duke of Buckingham.' The
first of these poems ia a magnificent collection of
allegorical figures, with which the poet is brought
into Boquaintanee while he is conducted by Sor-
row through the infernal regions ; and they are
delineated with such power, as to be Uttle infe-
rior to those of Spenser himself, whom thej are
supposed h> have inspired with emulative ar-
dour. Whileatillastudentin the Temple, he also
composed " Gorliodnc,'' afterwards changed into
the title of " Ferrex and Porrex,* the earliest spe-
cimen of a regular tragedy in the Engliah lan-
guage. Though already so distinguished as a
poet, his ambition lay elsewhere, in consequence
of which he first rose to the title of Lord Buck-
hurat, and afterwards Earl of Dorset, while he
enjoyed the highest offices of the state till hia
death, which occurred in 1008, In that highest
of all poetic attributes — the creative power-
he, more than all the preceding English poets,
approached nearest to Chaucer, while he was
only surpassed by the author of the "Faerie
Queene,' whom he so worthily heralded.

We now come to Edmund Spenser, by far the
greatest of all the poets who had yet appeared
in England since the days of Chaucer, and, next
to Shakepeare, the brightest ornament of the
Elizabethan period, He waa bom in East
Smithfield, London, about the year 1S63, and
was edncated at the university of Cambridge,
where he became acquainted with Gabriel Har-
vey, his first instructor in versification. Un-
luckily, however, Harvey's favourite idea was,
that Engliah verse, like that of Greece and
Rome, should be measured by quantitiea ; and
Spenser, following this theory, commenced his
first attempts in trimeter iambics. His good
taste, however, soon rejected thia barbarism; and
his "Shepherd's Calendar" procured for him the
patronage of Sir Philip Sidney, to whom Harvey
introduoed him, and the stilt more effectual fa^
Tour of the Earl of Leicester, through whom he

obtiuned the appointment of secretary to Lord
Grey of Wilton, Lord-Ueutanant of Ireland.
After two years, his patron being readied, tba
poet followed him to England, where he obtained
from Elizabeth a grant of 3000 acres of land in
Cork, out of the forfeited estates of the Earl of
Desmond— a boon that obliged him to reside in
Ireland, and attend to the cultivation of the
laud thus assigned to him. On thia o

Eul arEiBuaul.

up his abode in Kilcolman Castle, the resi-
dence of the former Lords of Desmond ; and
here, amidst the rich and picturesque scenery by
rhich he was surrounded, he commenced the
■Faerie Queene"— that work of beautiful images
and dreams, which ao algnificantly apeaks of so-
litary musings among the toveliost of nature's re-
tirementa. On being visited by Sir Walter Ra-
leigh, then a young captain in the Irish campaign,
Spenser wM easily persuaded by such a congenial
spirit to give bis new work to the world; and, ac-
cordingly, after a few years' residence in Ireland,
he returned to Loudon, where he published the
first three hooka of hia matchlesa allegory. These
vlsita were more tlmn ouce repeated in following
years, for tlie publication of the reat of the "Faerie
Queene," and other poetical works; but notwith-
standing the signal merit of the fint-named pro-
duction, and the admiration of the choice spirits
of the day, who could fully appreciate its excel-
lence, the poet had too much occasion to com-
plain with hitteruees, as he did, of tlie hostile in
fluences by which he was condemned to neglect.
The scanty pension which Elizabeth vouch-
safed him, the malignity of Lord Burghley, by
which any further favour was prevented, and
the unproductive nature of his Iriab property

»Google

A.D. 1485—1603.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

275

were sufficieDt to couuterpoUe the eQJojment of
bi* poetka] fame, and make him feel how fruit-
lesalj be had lavished the richeat pauegTrica on
the queen and lier ungrateful conrtiera. But

H Cutu^ S\

'i IrUh n

— HiU'i 1

even a worse calamity was at band. After hia
last retani Co Ireland, in 1G&7, the rebellioD
under Tyrone broke out; the insurgents stormed
and burned down hia castle, and Spenser, niter
one of hia children had pieriahed in the flamea,
returned to London a heart-broken and impov-
erished man, ODlr to die a few montha after, in
the bq^ning of 1S98.

The worka of Spenaar, besidea his principal
poem, are the " Shepherd's Calendar," in twelve
bncolica, "CoHd Clout 'k come home again," a
tranalation of Virgira "Culei," "Mother Hub-
bard's Tale," " Hymns and Viaiona," '■ The Tears
of the Muses," " Spousal Focma," Sat. Beaidea
these, he wrote in proae a " Memorial on the
State of Ireland, and ita Remedy," in the fashion
of a dialogue — a work atill applicable to the con-
dition of that unhappy country in the present
day. But the superior lustre of the "Faerie
Queene" has completely eclipsed alt hia other pro-
ductions. Aa an allegorical poem, indeed, it is
cerbunly faulty, being so complex as to involve
sllc^rj within allegory; and as a nairaljve it
is so tediona, that few are able to pemsa it con-
Mcntively to the end. The chief interest of the
work ill contuned in the first three books ; and
although it is but half finiahed — six booka only

having been publi^ed of the twelve which were
designed for ita completion — thia ia the less re-
gretted, aa each book ia a complete story, or
rather epic in itself. But all these defects are
only Bpecka upon the aun'a disk; and amidst the
goi^eous pictures and images with which the
"Faerie Queene" abounds, few who step within
ita maze can pause to inquire whether it is an
allegory or a tale. The reader finds himself
among brave knights and beautiful women, who
act, and speak, and feel, like other human beinga;
and amidat aoeneiy where he hears the murmur
of waters and the breath of winda, and sees the
blight undulations of mouutais, lawn, and foreat,
mixed with the chivalroue spleudour of castles
and paviliona, the blare of martial music, and
the stirring achievements of titta and tourna-
ments; while here and there are intermiogled
the giant's cave, the enchanter's den, and the
tangled wildemesa, through which the errant
damsel strays, or her bold champion ridea in
quest of dangers. All thia, too, is depicted in
language appropriate to the subject, and there-
fore BO peculiar, that do other poet has adopted
it, or been able successfully to imitate it. "His
versification," aa a modem critic haa well ob-
served, "ia at once the most smooth and the
moat sounding in the language. It ia a labyrinth
of aweet sounds that would clog by their very
sweetness, but that the ear ia constantly relieved
and enchanted by their continued variety of mo-
dulation." ' Auotber writer, who waa one of the
b«at of poets as well as critics,' thuscharacterizea
the style of Spenser : " Though his story grows
desultory, the sweetness and gi«ce of hia man-
ner still abide by him. He ia like a apeaker
whose tones continue to be pleaoing though he
apeak too long."

There were other English poets during the
Elizabethan period who might well deserve to
be noticed, but for the superior brilliancy of the
"Faerie Queene." This was, indeed, a poetic era,
in which the emulation of chivalry had received
a higher direction : the intellectual touroamenta
that had now commenced were for a difierent
competition than that of mere thewes and ainews;
and candidates hurried into the lists with all the
eagemeaa of a new-bom enthusiasm. But this
waa especially the era of the English drama, a
department iu which poetry evinced its highest
power, and accomplished ita noblest achieve-
ments, while it was exclusively a native produc-
tion, inBt«ad of an imitation of the classical sgea,
whether of Oreece or Italy. But here a field
opena upon us so wide and eo important, and
with si, of such progreesive growth, that we
roust defer it till the commencement of the next
period, to which it more properly belonga. It
I UuUn. < TboDUia CamplaU.

»Google

276

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

fSocIAI. ST4TX.

WM not till tfae reifpi of James I. that the dro-
niatia poett; of the nation had grovn to full mb-
turitr, and acqnired ite natural ascendency.

In turning onr attention to the condition of
Seotland during this period, we find that the
Nettierlnnda wa« the principal emporium of its
commeKe, aa it had been from a very early
period ) and a commercial treaty between the
two countries that was established in the reign
of James I., was renewed by Charles Y., and hia
sister the Queen of Hungary, Begent of the Low
Countriea. The chief traffic with this quarter
consisted of wool, hides, and skins, exported
by the Soots, in eichange for which they im-
fwrted articien of mercery, haberdashery, and
the machines and carriages necessary for do-
mestic and agricultural labour. Campvere, in
Zealand, was the principal port of this trade,
and there a Scottish commercial consul was es-
tablished, with the title of Conservator of Camp-
vere, an office that has been but lately abo-
lished. Before the close of this period, also, the
Scottish trade had extended itself to the Ca-
naries and the Azores. But, although the mer-
cantile spirit of Scotland struggled bravely to
keep abreast of its wealthier neighbours, the
scantiness of its native produce was rendered
still leas profitable than it might have been,
through the unwise l^slation by which the go-
vernment sought to enhance it. Thus, in 1488,
eveiy merchant exporting national articles of
commerce— wool, cloth, salmon, and herrings —
was required by act of parliament, to import a
cert*in amount in money. It was enaoted by the
same parliament, that every vessel coming from
abroad, whether native or foreign, should not
have liberty to enter any other ports than those
of the free burghs; and no foreigner whatever was
allowed to carry on any traffic, except at these
but^ghs. Foreigners were also prohibited from
buying any fish in Scotland, until they were salted
and barrelled. In spite, however, of these and
such prohibitions, by which free competition
was restricted and individual effort discouraged,
Scottish commerce continued to extend and pros-
per, especially during the reigns of James IV.
and his successor — sovereigns wboxe taste for
splendour was matched by their liberal spirit
and love of naval enterprise. An idea of the re-
lative importance of England, Scotland, and Ire-
land, at this time, in wealth, and ability to en-
dure taxation, may be found in their several as-
aesameuts of the tenths of benefices which were
paid as a tax to the Soman See. The account,
which is contained in one of the Harleian MSS.,
stands thua :—

MwUaMWmlUH, .

. tSMJ 19 S

1M7 1« »

This was at the period when the authority of
Borne over the three countriea was as yet un-
touched. It will be perceived, that although
care was taken not to tax Scotland too heavily,
it paid more than twice the amount imposed
upon Ireland, and nearly a fifth part of that of
England.

While commerce was tlins producing its legiti-
mate fruits for Scotland by an increase of com-
fort and wealth, the art of ship-building, upon
which it so much depends, flourished in a re-
markable degree through the munificence, enter-
prise, and skill of James IV. and James V. The
first of these, especially, was so devoted to his
navy, and raised it to such a powerful condition,
that, in the naval engagements which took place
between it and that of England, it seemed for
some time a question whether the ocean-Bag of
supremacy might not finally be secured by tiit
weaker country. In his enthnsiaam for ship-
building, in which he was ably seconded by Sir
Andrew Wood and the Bartons, he evinced the
true spirit of a British sovereigu; and consider-
ing the inferiority of his means, went far beyond
his wealthier rival Henry YIIL Such, indeed,
was his ardour in this depariiment, that it was
sometimes carried too far, as was especially the
cOsa in the construction of his principal ship, the
Great iS. Michad. This vessel, upon which all the
forests of the well-wooded county of Fife, with
the exception of the royal demesne of Falkland,
were eihansted, was 120 feet in length, and 36
in width, while its strong sides were 10 feet in
thickness, so that they were imperforable by any
cannon-shot at that time in use. To man such
an enormous hulk, 300 mariners and 1000 soldiera
were required; but even then, the nautical skill
was wanting to impart due life and activity to
ita movementa, so that it was little more thaii a
splendid promise of what a later period wmdd
accomplish. His son, James T., was not only a
gallant knight, but a bold skilful sailor, as was
evinced by hia nav^ progresses which be under-
took for reducing the Highlands and Isles to
order. That which be conducted in 1S40, against
the ialands on the north-west coast, was especially
memorable, as it was only then that they were
reduced to full submission, and incorporated with
the kingdom of Scotland. Upon this adventure
he embarked with a royal fleet of fifteen shipa,
whose crews amounted to SOOO men, and aooom-
paiiied by several of his chief nobility.

The mode of living among the Scottish aris-
tocracy still continued, during the whole of this
period, to be distingiahed by the same turbulence
abroad, and the same rudeness and discomfort at
home, which bad been prevalent in the time of
James I. The chief feature in their political
history was the bond of ntanrmt, by which tho

,v Google

l.B. 1483— 1603.J

HISTORY OF SOCIETV.

277

leMer barons were wont to ally theniaelves with
■ome powerful noble for mutual benefit and pro-
tection; but as tliese bonds were too often found
to be fonmdable coalitiona, not only ngninHt the
■utboritir of the crown, but the liberties of tlie
people, tbej were repeatedly denounced by por-
lianient. These prohibitory acts, however, were
disregarded by men who conld make themselves
independent of parliamentary statutes. Some-
time these unions were for unrestricted defence
"agunst all deadly;" but at oUier times a Baving
clause wBfl inserted, by which the obligations
were limited. Such was the case of a bond of
manrent, entered into in 146S, between the city
of Aberdeen and the EatI of Huntly, in which was
tlie clause, "saving allegiance to the king and the
freedom of the bnrgh." A Scottish nobleman's
castle, during this period, was still assimilated
to the strongholds which the English Bristocracy
had inhabited before the time of the Tudors, be-
ing, like them, funiiahed with moat, barbican,
and port^^utlis, and in the centre a keep, for the
residence of the master and his family. The
walls of these (^astles were so strong as to be often
impregnable, before the invention of gunpowder;
while they were provided against open violence
or secret treachery, by nnmerous military re-
tainers who manned the walls, and by vigilant
warden upon the watch-towers. Tantallan Castle,
the fortress of the Douglases, and that of St.
Andrews, when completed by Cardinal Beaton,
were among the choicest specimens of this kind
of militai; architecture in Scotland ; and the neges
they were able to undergo form important notices
in the Scottish chronicles.

The general style of living, among the difierent
clasaea of the Scottish population, nt the close of
this period, has been given by IVnes Moryson,
with oonuderable minuteness, in his Itinerary,
published in London in 1617. He visited Scotland
in 169B,and,as an Elnglishman, seems to have mar-
velled greatly at the coarseness and poverty of
living that everywhere prevailed. The following
seems to have been the first specimen which be
saw among the better classes:—" Myself was at a
kni^t's house, who had many servants to attend
him, that brought in his meat, with their heads
covered with blue caps, the table being more than
half-fumished with great platters of porridge,
each having a little piece of sodden meat; and
when the table was served the servants sat down
with ub; but the upper mess, instead of porridge,
had a pullet, with some prunes in the broth; and
I observed no art of cookery, or fomiture of
household stuff, but rather rude neglect of both,
though myself and my companions, sent from
the governor of Berwick about Bordering affairs,
were entertained after their best manner." This
ooverte of larders and scantiness of good cheer.

even among the better classes, is not te be won-
dered at when we consider the state of Hotyrood
itaelf, only two years afterwards. The second
son of James TI., afterwards Charles I,, was to
be baptized in royal state, and certain princes of
fVance, and other noble foreigners, were to be
present at the solemnity. But to furnish a meet
banquet for such an occasion, materials wei^
wanting, at which the Scottish Solomon was
sorely disturbed, as not only his own character,
but that of the kingdom was at stake. In this
difficulty he wrote a piteous letter to the lAird
of Dundas, describing his strait, and requesting
him to send " venisons, wild meat, biissel fowls,
capons," and such other provisione as were suit'
able to Holyrood, inviting him, withal, to attend
this regal banquet, and partake of his own good
cheer. All this poverty, however, Moryson at-
tributes to the number of followers anddomestics
which the nobles were obliged to entei-tain in
consequence of the divided stnte of society, and
the quarrels that arose from it. Describing their
general diet, the author of the Itinerary tells us
that, in the country, their bread was chiefly
hearth-cakes of oats, and, in the towns, wheaten
bread, " which, for the most part, was bought bj'
courtiers, gentlemen, and the l>est sort of citizens."
Their drink was chiefly pure wines, not sweetened,
OB in England, with sugar, but comfits, according
to the French fashion; and, unlike the English
vintners, they did not "froth and lime," or adol-
terate their wine in any other fashion. Inns, he
tells us, were unknown in the country, at least
he had never seen any sign hung out to indicate
their eiistence; but for every purpose of festivity
or hospitality, the better sort of citizens brewed
ale, their ususi beverage, which, however, was sick-
ening to strangers unused to it It was the cnstom
to present to their guests a "sleeping cup" of wine
when they retired to rest; and the beds to which
they adjourued were built into the wall, with
doors to open and shut, so that the sleepers were
obliged to climb into then- dormitories. Such
beds are still to be found in many of the cottages
in Scotland. Such a luxury, however, even with
ite "one sheet, open at the sides and top, bul
closed at the feet, and so doubled," still common
among the poorer classes in Scotland, must, at
this period, have been chiefly confined to cities;
for we find that, in couotiy mansions, even the
young nobility had often nothing better than
beds of straw, where they lay with their weapons
beside them, which they were ready to snateh up
in any sudden alnrm. In the article of temper-
ance in drinking, the Scots nf this period were,
on the whole, decidedly inferior to the English,
and this especially in their set carousals, when
strangers were plied with healths at a mte to
which they were unaccustomed. It appears, too,

»Google

878

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statb.

that gentlemen and courtieiB were more modsisle
ia driDkiog than the coimtrj people &ud mer-

Id giving an aecODDt of the costume of the
different ranks, we cannot do bett«r than qnote
at fuU, on this point, ftom Uoryson, who seems
to have had a very observant eje during the
whole of his northern journey. He saya— "The
fattHbaudmen in Scotland, the aervants, and al-
most all the country, did wear coarse cloth, made
at home, of gray or sky colour, and flat blue caps,
very broad. The merchants in cities were al^
tired in English or French cloth, of pale colour,
or mingled black and blue. The gentlemen did
wear English cloth or silk, or light stuffs, little
or nothing adorned with silk lace, much less with
lace of silver or gold; and ail followed, at this
time, the French fashion, especially in court
Gentlewomen, married, did wear upper boddice
after the German manner, with large whalebone
sleeves, after the French manner; short cloaks,
like the G«rmaoB; French hoods and large fall-
ing bands about their necks. The nnman-ied of
all sorts didgo bareheaded, and wear short cloaks,
with most close linen sleeves on their arms, like
the virgins of Germany. The inferior sorts of
citizens' wives, and the women of the country,
did wear cloaks made of a coarse stuff, of two or
three colours, in ehecquer-work, vulgarly called
pladden. To conclude: in general, they would
not, at this time, be attired after the English
fashion in any sort; but the men, especially at
court, follow the IVench fashion; and the women,
both in court and city, as well in cloaks as naked
heads, and also sleeves on the arms, and all other
gannents, follow the fashion of the women in
Germany.'

Of the sports of Scottish life at this period,
may be mentioned those of chivalry, which flashed
out with a dying effort during the reigns of
James lY. and James Y., themselves the last of
knight-errant kings. It was then that Scottish
tournaments assumed their gayest form, and were
frequented from every part of Europe. Hunting
and hawking, especially the last, were still in
vogue also, when they had been considerahy di-
minished in England, from the greater quantity
of ground that was now taken into cultivation.
Masks, and those court pageants called ludi,
were prevalent during the reigns of the above-
mentioned sovereigns, and were not only per-
formed with a splendour hitherto unknown in
Scotland, but with a truthfulness to nature which
few courts could equal — the parts of Etiiiopian
queens and sable enchanters being personated by
veritable black people, natives of India, whom
ffir Andrew Wood bad captured in liia cruises
against the Portuguese. lu those public sports
that were common to all classes, may l» men-

tioned the miracle and mysteiy plays, which
were found at the Reformation to be powerful
engines for the overthrow of Romish doctrine,
and the influence of the established hierarchy.
Unfortunately, however, the poets knew not
when to stop short, and their attacks npon reli-
gious truths themselves became so indiscriminate,
that the Reformed clergy took the alarm, and
opposed the stage as an incorrigible profanity.
The same ecclesiastical authority had to be ex-
ercised against the popular pageant of the "Abbot
of Unreason," from its tendency to burlesque
religion itself ; and the play of " Robin Hood,*
from the profligacy and disorder which it en-
couraged among the onlookera. Another kind of
popular assemblage was the teeaponthaa, insU-
tuted by James IV., by wfaidi the people of every
district were obliged to assemble fonr times a-
year, bameaeed and weaponed according to the
amount of their income, and exercise themselves
in warlike competitions, such as shooting at the
papingo, trials of archery, and the stirring ath-
letic games of casting tlie penny-stone, quoit,
and bar ; wrestling, running, and leaping ; for
excellence in wbi<^, the most common prize was
a silver arrow. Another sport, peculiarly a fa-
vourite in Scotland, perhaps from its aptitude to
stir up the tranquil blood of the people into a
tempest, was the game of football.

Among the more peaceful amusements of the
Scots, was that of peany VMddiitgi, which are
scarcely yet wholly abrogated in the more remote
districts of Scotland. On this festive oocasion,
a very large assembly was usually collected; and
as the chief object, besides the enjoyment of fun
and festivity, whs to make some provision for
the young couple on commencing life, the bride
went round the room, and kissed each man of
the assembly, who, in return, put a piece of money
into a dish, according to his means or inclination.
Out of this collection, the expense of feast and
fiddlers was defrayed, and a sum reserved to
meet the new wanta of the pur. But as over-
abundant drinking, and sometimes quarrels and
bloodshed were occasioned by these marriage as-
semblies, which were chiefly confined to the
humbler clasws, the clergy, soon after the Re-
formation, endeavoured to suppress them, but iu
vain : all they could accomplish, was a partial
abatement of their excesses, by stinting the price
usually paid by the guests of a penny wedding.
Five shillings Scots, for each comer, was usually
the specified sum of these presbyterial enact-
ments, and any one trespassing this limit, sub-
jected himself to tiie censure of the kirk-sesBion.
Dancing formed an essential portion of evei;
Scottish merry-meeting ; and among these, what
is called tiie sword-dance was an especial fa-
vourite. Xheother games were hand-ball, kayle^

,v Google

A.D. 1485—1603.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

Mid golf ; and oardB, dice, chete, draaghts, and
baeltgminnion. Indeed, in alt their aporta, the
SooU were ahuost whollj assimilated to thoae of
England, the conaequencea of the common Sazoo
origiii that belonged to the two nations. From
this gmmal nila, howevor, we mnat not only ex-
cept the wedding, but also the f imeT«l obeervancea
of the Scota, which were more of a Celtic than
a Saxon character. When a person died, the
body, after being dreaead oat for interment, had
lighted candlea placed at the he^d and feet, and
a cellar of aalt liud upon the breast, while a
plentiful store of proTimona and liquors was laid
ia to hold the lyte-waie of the deceased. But
thia death-feast waa suything but lugubrious,
beii^ one of those desperate attempts to be merry,
with which BO many rude tribea, that cannot look
beyond the gisve, endeavour to reconcile them-
•elTes to its stem neceaaity. Ou the body being
carried to the grave upon hand-spokea, the fune-
ral, if the deoeaaed had been of consequence,
was signalized with the ringing of bells, and
Tolleya of musketry and artillery. In diet,
oioreover, it may be noticed, that the Scota,
while they reaembled the English, had some
dishes peculiarly their own, such as the haggis
and singed sheep's bead, which are too well known
to need description. In some other reapects also
they imitated thw allies the French, from whom
they seem to have acquired their fondness for
broths and sonpa, and mode of preparing them ;
and their liking for preserved fruits, the chief of
which — marmalade — was introduced, with other
such preparatioua, by Mary Stuart.

In paaaiDg from these less important events to
the progreaa of learning iu Scotland, we find thia
period signalized by the erection of new insti-
tutioua. The first waa King's College, Aberdeen,
the third in point of time in the order of Scot-
tiah universitieB, which waa founded, under the
name of the College of St. Mary, m 1S06. The
thi«e nniversitiea of SL Andrews, QIaagow, and
Aberdeen, were followed by the erection of a
fourth in Edinburgh, by Jamea TI., in 1582.
The High School of Edinburgh was also founded
by the magistrates of that city in 1ST7. Still,
however, the prognes of learning was slow; and
fur this, more than one cause may be assigned.
The fint course of teaching adopted at these uni-
veraiticA, oonaisted of little more than the pedan-
tiy of the earlier ages, iu which theology and
the canon and civil law were of chief account,
and Latin the only language in which they were
communicated : beyond these, ethics, phyucs,
and logic, although iucluded in their curriculum,
were but little regarded. The introduction of
tie study of Greek, by which this pedantry and
exclusiveneaa were to be overcome, was but par-
tially aceomi^iBhed by the labours of Erakine of

279
■e diatinguiahed example of

Dun, and the stJll m
Andrew MelviL

IVom the (oregoing account, it cannot be ex-
pected that Scotland during this period should
have been prolific of learned men and accom-
plished scholars. Erskine of Dun, whom we
have already mentioned, was the first to inttv-
duce the study of Oreek into Scotland. This be
did, by bringing from the Continent a learned
Frenchman, whom he eatablished in the town of
Montroae, in 1634. A better scholar than even
this accomplished I^ird of Duu, was Johu Knox
himself, wfaofl<> renown as a Beformer baa caused
hia learned acquirements to be lost sight of; but
he was not only conversant with lAtin, but also
with Greek ; and in hia old days, while still in-
volved in the throng of great events, and stand-
ing almost alone against tlie selfish opposition of
nearly the whole Scottish nobility, he reaolutely
set himself to the study of Hebrew. Aa an
author, alao, hia writings are not only superior to
those of his contemporaries of Scotland, but are
equal to the beat proae compoaitiona of the Eng-
lish themselves, in whose luiguage he wrote. It
was thia acknowledged talent and acholarshi]^
combined with his other high qualities, that made
the Foptah clergy so unwilling to encounter
him in controversy, even when he repeatedly
challenged them to step forth in defence of their
creed. Greatly auperior to Knox in erudition,
while he resembled him in many of the high
qualities of a national Beformer, waa his succes-
sor, Andrew Melvil. Having acquired a know-
ledge of Oreek at the school of Montrose and
the New College of St Andrews, he afterwards
perfected it by a two ycara' study in the univer-
sity of Paris, and taugbt as regent for three
years at the university of Poitiers, when he ex-
changed that appointment for the professorship
of humanity in the university of Geneva. After
residing there for the apace of five years, the re-
nown of his learning induced his countrymen to
recal him home. He complied with the invi-
tation, and the illuatrious scholars, who at that
time were the chief ornament of Geneva, resigned
him with regret. Eeza, in hia letter to the Scot-
tish General Aasembly upon the occaeion, de-
clared, that the greateat token of affection which
the Kirk of Geneva could show to Scotland, was
in Buffering themselvea to be bereaved of Andrew
Melvil, that thereby the Kirk of Scotland might
be enriched. His labours iu hia native country
as scholar, theologian, teacher, and Reformer, and
the impulse which he gave to the literary cha-
racter of its Beformation, more than fulfilled the
high expectations that had been formed from his
remarkable attainments.

But a superior iu scholarship to Melvil was
George Buchanan, of whom any age or country

»Google

280

HISTOItY OF ENOLAND.

[Social Stats

would hai^ beeu proud. Although driven at
first by poverty, and afterwards by tha perae-
cutioDB of the Romiah clergy, into an unsettled
life, hia diligeuce in literature was such as few
scholars could have equulled ; and of this, his
miscellaneous poems, his Latin paraphrase of the
I^aliua of David, his tragedy of "Jephthes," his
philosophical poem " De Sphera," and his tranala-
tion of the "AJcestes" of Euripidea, are full evi-
deuce. When he returned home, he became
preceptor and poet of Queen Mary ; afterwards,
under the regency of Moray, he was appointed
principal of St. Leonard's College. St. Andrews,
and, Bubsequently, tutor to the boy-king, James
VL His last, as well aa most distinguished work,
was the Uitton/ of Scotland, that was passing
through the press at the period of his death, which
occurred in 1582, when he was now in his seventy-
seventh year. While Buchanan has been wholly
unrivalled in his wondrous mastery of lAtin,
which he used as if he had been born in it, the
richness anil varieiy of liia mind as philosopher,
political writer, poet, and historian, was auch, aa
in each department to distance every competitor.
No other fitting place could be found for him,
than that which contains the honoured names of
Cicero, Horace, and Livy.

But it was in poetry that the revival of learn-
ing was distinguished in Scotland, aa well aa
Eugland; and while in the latter country there
had been a long gap from Chaucer till neai
close of the reign of Henry VIII., that interval
had been nobly filled by the Scottish poeta,
James I., Barbour, Henry the Minstrel, and
Henryson. Other poets succeeded ; and of these
northern bards who graced the preaent period of
our biatory, the first in order of time waa William
Dunbar. He waa born at Salton, in Eaat Lothian,
about the year 1463. Little is known of him,
eicept that in hia youth he was a travelling
viciate of the FraDciscan order, in which capacity
he travelled through England and France. His
chief productions were the "Thistle and the
Rose,' on allegorical epithalamium on the mar
riage of James IV. with Margaret of England
the "Golden Targe," a moral allegory, illustrating
the predominance of love over reason; and the
"Dance of the Seven Deadly Sins." Tlismui
hia language and versification, and the vivid
colouring of hia pictures, which in many <
fall little short of Spenser himself, have procured
for him from Ellis the character of the "greatest
poet that Scotland has produced.*

The next poet was one of a i-ace that had fur-
nished aa yet none else than matctiless roen-at-
arma and formidable conspirators. This was
Gawin or Oavin Douglas, third son of the for-
midable Earl of Angus, usually known by the
name of Bell-the-cat. He was bom in 1474.

Ijke many of the young Scottish nobles of the
period, he atudied at the univetaity of Paris, and
finiahed his education by a tour on the Continent.
Hia works were a translation of Ovid'a "B«medy
of Love,* finiahed abont the cloae of the fifteenth
century ; and the " Palace of Honour," an inatme-
tive and admonitory poem, addressed to his youth-
ful sovereign James IV. Buthisbestknownwork
a poetical vecsiou of Virgil's .^rttid, the first
tranalation of a Boman classic into the English
tongue. Hia veraion, while eiecuted with re-
markable spirit and fidelity, is something man
than a mere tranalation, for to each book he has
attached a prologue of his own, full of striking
sentiments and ricE poetical description. An-
other poem of Gawia Douglas, entitled " King
Hart' (or Heart), is characterized by an eminent
modern Scottish critic, aa "a most ingenious ad-
umbration of the progress of human life." It is
unfortunate for the works of this distinguished
Scottish poet, as well aa those of hia oontempo-
raries, that their antiquated style makes them
almost wholly unintelligible to ordinary readen
of the present day.

Another poet more widely kuown, was Sir
David Lindsay of the Mount. He wan bom in
Fife in 14Q0; and after having finished his edu-
cation at St. Andrews, he became an attendant of
James IV., and a sort of governor, or rather dry-
nurse of the young prince, afterwards James V.
More honourable and important offices, however,
awaited him, and in 1S30 he waa knighted, and
appointed Lyou Eing-at-Arms. Hie eagadoua
spirit, stirred up by the Reformation, and his
satirical powers that found ample scope in the
vices of the clei-gy, made him so formidable, that
he probably would have shared the fate of Patrick
Hamilton and Wishart, but for causes atill on-
explained ; it is posnibie, indeed, that James T.,
who could keenly relish the jokes of his eariy
companion, especially when levelled agMnat the
church dignitaries, may have interposed between
the poet and his relentless enemies. They burned
bis works, however, during the regency of Mary
of Guise, thus showing what they would have
done to the author himself, who probably had
retired to the quiet seclusion of the Mount, while
John Knox and the Lords of the Congregation
were preparing to avail themselves of the effects
of hia writings. These effects, indeed, by which
the people were prepared for the preaching of the
Reformatiou, it would be difficult to estimate:
it is enough to state, that bis poems were every-
where welcomed, and that in every dwelling the
name of "Davie Lindsay" waa an endeared house-
hold word. The principal works of Sir David are
"TheDreme," the"Complaynt," the"Complaynt
of the King's Papingo," the "Satyreou tbeThrie
Eetaitis," the "Ilistorie of Squire Meldrum," and

»Google

A.D. 1465—1603.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

the "Monarchie." Wbile bis poetry was neither
elevated nor refined, ond often of atartljng coarae-
iiess, the universal interest of his subjects, the
keennese of his astire, and the yif^roua though
homelj langnage in which his eeDtimenta were
eipremed, sufiiciently explain the preference that
selected him as the fiivourite national poet, when
those of equal, or even higher poetical merit,
were overlooked and n^lected.

Hitherto, we have not spoken of the mannera,
ijustoms, and modes ot living that obtained among
the Irish people, althongb their conntrj had
formed part of the Sngliah monarchy since the
reign of Heniy 11. This, however, vaa the less
necesBBi;, as their Celtic origin and enslaved con-
dition bad tended to stereotype the form of Irish
life from the perloii of their conquest down-
wards, BO that the natives, at the close of this
period, were nearly in the same state as Strong-
bow and his Normans had originally found
them, with the miseries of bondage superadded.
This we can easily perceive by a comparison of
the atotementa of Uiraldus Cainbrensis about
Ireland, written in the reign of Henry II., and
thoae of the author of the "Faerie Queene," and
of Sir John Davies, the poet and stateaman,
written during that of Elizabeth. The aame ac-
counts, indeed, hold good of the Iriah during
the whole period of the Stuarta, and in too many
cases are atill applioahle to those of the present

In reading the history of Ireland, we can per-
ceive at once how its conquest was unfitted to
civilize it When England was conquered by
the Normans, the victors were not only in great
numbers, but were of the aame race with the van-
quished, and the effect iu the first instance was
mutual improvement, and afterwards complete
incorporation. But iu the case of Ireland, the
conquerors were but a handful ; while the dis-
parity between them and the vanquished in the
arts of life was so great, that no kindly ap
proximation could be expected. This was differ-
ent from the alnost entire equality that originally
existed between the Saxon and the Norman.
Then, again, there was not only the difference of
civilization and language between the invadera
and the invaded, but also of lineage, habits, and
feelings, which tended to keep them for ever
■part, and the man of Milesian or Celtic origin
continued to hate the descendant of the Norman
or Saxon with a hatred which time has failed to
extinguish. The barbariam of the Iriah was
further deepened and confirmed by the very ne-
cesnty which their own poaition entailed ufion
the conquerors. They were bnt a amall com-
munity, obliged to maintain by the sword what
they had vroti with the sword, and thus they re-
miiined a besieged encampment in the country

Vol. II.

which they came to colonize. A wholesale and
simultaneous conquest of the island would have
materially abated these evila ; but England, oc-
cupied as she was with the wars of Scotland and
France, waa inadequate to such an efibrt ; and,
therefore, the scanty succesnve auppliea of her
population which she conid afford for Ireland,
were rather reinforcements to a chain of gar-
risons, than masters of the country, and culti-
vators of the soil. In this case the likelihood
was, that instead of absorbing, they would be
absorbed by the native population, and thus loae
their national individuality in the mass into
which they were melted. Such was the caae; and
not only English civilization and its improve-
ments were thus successively swallowed up, as
if they had disappeared in the native bogs, but
a tace grew and multiplied, Anglo-Irish in blood,
but wholly Irish in character. This necessity,
also, was further increased by the polity of the vic-
tors. Perceiving the smallneas of their numbers,
and conscious of their weakueas, they adopted
;he expedient of the Tartars towards the Chinese
in aimiUr circumstances, by amuming the speech,
manners, and dreaa of the Irish, in the hope that
not only their feebleness might be concealed, but
tbeir conquered subjects conciliated. Hence it
waa, that during this period, so many of the
new English comers into Ireland were scanda-
lized to find men wearing the names of an hon-
oured Saion and Norman lineage, converted in
every respect into a vnld Irish chieftainry. The
difiioulty of governing such a country was welt
set forth by the Earl of Kildare, viceroy or de-
puty under Henry VIII., when he waa taunted
by Cardinal Wolsey at the council board, with
the nickname of King of Ireland. " As for my
kingdom, my lord," replied the stout old earl,
" I would you and I had exchanged kingdoms
one month ; I would trust to gather up mora
crumbs in that space, than twice the revenues of
my poor earldom. But you are well and warm;
BO bold you, and upbraid me not after so odioua
a form, I aleep in a cabin, when yon lie soft in
yonr bed of down; and serve under the cope of
heaven, when you are served under a canopy.
I drink water out of my steel cap, when ye
drink wine out of golden cups. Ii^ courser is
trained to the field, when your jennet is taught
to amble. When you are be-graced and be-
lorded, and crouched and kneeled unto, then find
I small grace from our Iriah borderers unless I
cut them short by the knees."

Ill thta way, the auperiority of the English
over Ireland was little more than nominal, while
the subjection of the natives was a constant re-
bellion. The former, who occupied hut a portion
of the country, commonly called the ^gliah
Pale, built towns more for the purpoaea of safety

14a

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[SoaAL Stute.

thaa civilization; while the Utter, who regarded
every EDgllahman as an oppressor, and erery
tova aa & prisoii, fled to their woods and mo-
reases, where the bleasinga of freedom ouly the
more endeared to them that barbarism which
such a life natuniJlj cherished. lu this way,
also, the bulk of the native populatiou consiated
uf hordea called Booliea, who subsisted upon their
cattle ; wandered from place to place iu quest of
pasturage; and were ready to receive with wel-
come aiid protection, not only every malefactor
puraued by English law, bnt every political intri-
guer, whether native or foreigner, who sought to
stir them up against their rulers. In this state,
the char&cter attributed to these Celts was the
same aa that which the Boman writers attributed
to the Gauls under the dominion of Rome. Alive
to every rumour (and with toomoch cause), their
continual inquiry was "What is the news?" for
which they were laughed at by the English.
Thej were also addicted so keenly to gsmbling,
that even modem fashionable life conld not
equal them in the desperation of their throws.
Thus Spenser, in describing a class of Irishmen
called CarrowB, whose sole occupation was gamb-
ling, tells us, "They wander up and down living
upon cards and dice ; the which, though they
have little or nothing of tbeir own, yet they will
play for much money, which if they win, they
waste most lightly; and if they lose, they pay aa
alenderiy.' Campion is more particular, when
he informs ua of these C^rows — "They play
away mantle nnd all, to the bare skin, and then
truss themselves in atraw or in leaves — ther
wait fm- pasaengers iu the highway, invite them
to a game upon the green, and ask no more but
companions to hold them sport.* Were we not
aware of the enthusiastic intrepidity of gameetera
in general, we could scarcely believe what fol-
lows. Campion adds, " For default of other stuff
they pawn portions of their glib, the naila of their
fingers and toes, and their privy members, which
tbey lose or redeem at the conrtesy of the wia-
ner." All this love of news-hearing and gamb-
ling, as well aa buoyancy of spirit, and excita-
bility of temper, that hurried the Irish from one
extreme to another — their superstitious credulity,
that made them put faith in spells and omens —
and their impatience of restraint, combined with
their continualblunders in attempting to be free—
only complete their resemblance to the Gaula, ai
delineated by CeEsar and other Roman historians
Not only was war inevitable between a peopli
ao dissimiUr, who stood in the relationship of
rulers and ruled, but it was conducted with
rancour whi<^ nothing abort of extermination
conld satisfy. It WM also carried on upon either
fide with a reference to their condition, so that,
while the Irish harassed their English

with ambuscadea and nurprises, the latter re-
quited these annoyances with formal battles and
wasteful campaigns. It was the unequal match
of a savage against a civilised foe, in which the
latter, however outnumbered, was sure to prevail
le end. The following account of the sur-
prisal of a town gives ua a diatinct idea of the
mode of Irish warfare; — "Rorie Oge O'Uore
and Cormocke MacCormocke O'Connor, accom-
panied not with above 140 men and boys, on the
third of this month, burned between 700 and 800
thatched houses in a market- town called the Naas.
They had not onehorseman nor one shot (musket)
with them. They ran through the towu, being
open, like hags and furies of hell, with Sakes of
tire fastened on polea^ ends, and so fired the low
thatched houses; and being a great windy night,
one house took fire of another in a moment, ^ey
tarried not half-an-hour in the town, neither
stood they upon killing or spoiling of any. There
was above SOO men's bodies in the town, but
neither manful nor wakeful as it seemed; for
they confess they were all asleep in their bed^
after they had filled themselves and surfeited
upon their patron day, which day is celebrated,
for the most part of the people of this country,
both with gluttony and idolatry as far as they
dare.* Such doings were certain to be fearfully
recompensed by the English, as may be seen
from the following picture of the desolation of
Munster, from the pen of the author of the
"Faerie Queene;" a desolation, by the way,
which was not of rare occurrence during the
reigns of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth:—" Ere
one year and a half, they [the natives] were
brought to such wretchedness as that any stony
heart would have rued the same. Out of every
comer of the woods and glens they came creep-
ing forth upon their hands, for their legs could
not bear them; they looked like anatomies of
death; they spake like ghoata crying out of their
graves; they did eat the dead carrions, happy
where they could find them; yea, and one an-
other soon after, insomuch as the very carcasses
they spared not to scrape out of their gmves; and
if they found a plot of water-cresses or sham-
rocks, there they flocked as to a feast for the lime;
yet not able long to continue therewithal, that in
short space there were none almost left, and a
most populous and plentiful coimtry suddenly
left void of man and beast; yet sure, in all that
war, there perished not many by the sword, but
all by the extremity of famine, which they them-
selves had wrought.'

Iu passing from this account of the general
condition of Ireland, to the several classes of
which its population was composed, and the cha-
racteristics by which they were distinguished, we
begin with the Irish chieftainr;. And here we

,v Google

A.D. 1485—1603.]

HISTORY OV SOCIETY.

Gild the law of Tanut ■ucceasioQ prevailing among
tiuHi, aa among the KighUnden of Scotl&nd, hj
which, on the death of a chief, his aon, if a minor,
wu set aside for the present, and a brother, (ht
nnu- rektive of the deceued, of mature age, called
to the captainahip of the clan. B; thu simple
expedient, which Hems to have been peculiar to
the Celtic race, a tribe exposed to frequent war-
fare wu able to avoid the hazards of a minority,
aod aecure a competent leader. The ceremoniea
twed in the election of thia deputy-chieftain are
thus described bj Campion:—" They um to place
him that ahall lie their cftptain upon a stone al-
waya itMi ted to tliat porpoae, and placed com-
monly upon a hiU. In some of which I have
aeen formed andengrsvenafoot, which, they aay,
waa the meaanre of their firat capbun's foot;
whereon he, atanding, receives an oath to preaove
all their andent former customs inviolate, and to
deliver up the succession peaceably to his Tanist;
and then hath a wand delivered to liim by aome
whose proper office that is; after which, descend-
ing from the atone, he tnrueth himself ronnd
thrice forwards and thrice backwards." When
the Taniat, or legitimate heir, ancceeded to Uie
rule, Spenser informs us that, at hie installa-
tion, he set only one foot on the stone, and had
the Muoe oath of govemmeut prescritwd to him
as the captain. Having thua a rul«r cboaen after
their own fashion, and whom they were ready to
obey implicitly, the nativea were not likely to
trouble the English law courts with cases of liti-
gation. Their own Brehon law, by which their
chief administered justice, was fully Hufficient to
content them. By thia simple patriarchal sys-
tem, the brehon, or judge, held his court in the
open air, a green bank was his tribunal, and his
decisions, which were prompt, were followed by
instant action. It is to be observed, also, that in
thia ayatem of native jurisprudence, only a step
waa made in advance of the original lex lalionii,
which exacted an eye for an eye and n tooth for
a tooth, aa in every crime whatever a full expia-
tiou waa snppoaed to he made by a fine called
the eric; and as each offence had ita preacribed
price, every offender knew how far he might go,
and every judge what penalty to impose. Even
a murderer, on paying the eric, was dismissed
from the court without further punishment, be-
ing completely absolved according to Brehon
law. How he waa to escape the consequences of
hia fend from the relatives of the victim, waa a
question for hia own adjustment, as the law
made uo provision on that head, so that he might
he murdered in requital as soon ns he left the
court, by any avenger who waa rich enough to

The style of living among these native Irish
chiefs, was characteristic of a people whose bar-

barism had only been indurated and confirmed
by conquest Even the mightiest of them nil,
called the "Great O'Neil,' Earl of Tyrone, who
for years held Elizabeth and the whole Gngliali
power at defiance, on being visited by Sir John
Harrington, the translator of Arioato, during
a time of truce, was found dining in the open air
off tables of fern, while liia attendants, " for the
moot part, were beardleas boya without shirts,
who, in the froat, wade as familiarly through
rivers as water apanieta* But the same O'Neil
knew what was due to bis rank and office, and
could magnify them sufficiently on great state
occasions, aa wa^^e case oa his visit to Loudou,
whui he repaired to the court of Elizabeth in the
atyle of a great feudal sovereign. On hia arrival
he marched in stately procession through the
eUeets, attended by a throng of gallowglasses,
arrived in the long flowing saffron and parti-
coloured costume of their country, with heads
uncovered and their long hair streaming in the
wind, having chain annour on their breaata and
battle-axes on theur shoulders. As a match to
the home life of O'Neil whs that of O'Kane, a
great chieftaJa of Ulater, according to the de-
scription of a Bohemian nobleman, given by
Fynes Morynon, who, on visiting htm, tells us
"he was met at the door with sixteen women,
all naked, except their loose mantles, whereof
eight or ten were very fair, and two seemed very
uympha; with which strange sight his (the
nobleman's) eyea being dazzled, they led him
into the house, nud there sitting down by the
fire, with crossed legH like tailors, and so low as
could not but offend chaste eyes, desired him to
sit down with them. Soon after, O'Kane, the
lord of the country, came in, all naked, excepting
a loose mantle and shoes, which he put off as
soon as he came in, and entertaining the baron
after his best manner in the Latin tongue, desired
him to put off hia apparel, which he thought to
be a burden to him, and to sit naked by the fire
with this naked company." It is surely unneces-
sary tu add, that the astounded Bohemian ex-
cused himself from complying. If power tlie
most unlimited, and a devotedness on the part of
hia people the moat unbounded, could satisfy
human ambition for the want of the common
comforts of life, an Irish chief had abundant
compensation. Speaking of his followers, Sir
John Harrington says — "With what a charm
such a master makes them love him, I know not;
but if he bids them come, they come; if go, they
do go; if he say do this, they do it." This chmnisb
devotedness to tlieir chief, so natural to the whole
Celtic race, waa troublesome to the conquerors,
who found it all but impossible to apprehend the
leader of a conspiracy, or convict him when ap-
prehended. Even when a chief condescended to

,v Google

2Si

HT8T0RY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statb.

litigate snjr elum tkbont propeTi; or rights in ru
Anglo-Irish law court, he entered with great ad-
vantage, for he bad witnesses ia abundance to
confirm whatever he alleged. He hod but to
announce his pleasure to hia vasBals, and thej
not only swore accordingly, but made good their
testimony by such cunning and fluent speech as
sufficed to nonplus both judge and jury. Such
ia the account of Campion, and other juriacon-
aults of the day, who had made full proof of the
natnre of Irish testimony.

As the rental of an Irish chief was little more
than nominal, derived, as it was, from an uncul-
tivated territory and proscribed people, it had to
be chiefly collected in kind, and then, too, only
where it could be found. His principal remedy,
therefore, was to quarter himself, with hia at-
tendants, upon such of his vBBsala as poaseased a
good laider, and take up the value of the land
they held in fee, in the shape of eating and drink-
ing. These rounds for the collection of rents
were called etuAaring*; and happy occaaions they
donhtlesa wwe, not only to the chief, who waa
certain of the beet of entertainment, but to the
flunaman who waa hoDonred by such an au-
gnat viait In this way an Iri^ magnate might
eother over the extent of a whole county, from
Mie's year end to another, both giving and receiv-
ing pleasure from the practice. This, however,
was an offence in the eyes of the English rulers,
who denounced it aa unlawful, and endeavoured
to BUppreas it— forgettiug, the while, that Eliza-
beth, in her royal progresses, used the same
liberty with the richest of her English nobles,
although she had not the same show of right, and
thus dried up those resources of her over-great
courtiers that might otherwise have been era-
ployed in feud and rebellion. The danger, how<
ever, of these Irish oosherings, ai'ose from the
close personal connection it eatabliahed between
the ehieftainiy and their vassals, by which the
English rule waa continually menaced. A simi-
lar practice, not, however, by right of possession,
bnt conquest, waa naeil by the Anglo-Irish no-
bility, under the name of ixngn and livery, or
hone-meat and man's meat. This pretended
right of nobility, which had been established in
England at the Norman conquest, had also been
introduced into Ireland by the successors of Enrl
Strongbow; but although, in the former country,
it expired with the decay of feudal despotism, in
the latter it had continued to flourish in full
vigour. By this usage of coign and livery, a rich
nobleman might live at free quarters at pleasure
over the whole extant of his posaeaaions, exhaust-
ing hia tenantry, aotl aggravating the general
discontent by his extortions, or strengthening hia
feudal influence against the government by his
popular conciliatory visita. It was no wonder.

therefore, that the same jealousy of the law,
which attempted to restnun thenatire rulers, bore
with still greater severity against this Norman
aristocracy, who were so difficult to be reached;
and, accordingly, the laws of the Tudors against
the right of coign and livery were both numerous
and stringent. But the proud nobility of Ireland
refused to submit, alleging that thus only they
could avail themselves of the services of their
tenantry who had no money, and travel in a
country where there were no inns; and having
enjoyed the privil^^ so long, and found it so
pleasant, they continued their man's meat and
horse-meat journeys as before, althongh the pen-
alties of high treason were denounced upon the
practice.

In an Irish clan the early patriarchal system
prevailed, and every one waa a relative more or
less of the chief, though it might be by a hun-
dred steps of removal; and to this, as the primary
source, may be traced the devotedneas of all the
members to their head. From this slao arose
a great portion of their scorn towards their Saxon
and Norman neighbours, who could elect at plea-
sure a leader for the nonce, and follow him only
as long aa it suited their own convenience. In this,
the Irishman and the Highlander showed th^r
common origin, by a mutual sympathy. Both
also being so nobly descended, thought it foul
scorn to follow a mechanical profession, and pre-
ferred a life of war or robbery, even though it
should lead to the gallows. In either country,
also, a closer relationship to tlie chief than that
of common consanguinity could be obtained,
through the institution of fiMenkip. By this
practice, ns soon as the son of a chi^ was bom,
instead of being reared in the paternal home, he
was consigned to the paternal care of a vassal of
the clan, by whose wife he was suckled, and with
whose sons and daughters he waa brought up.
On this account, the future chief was more closely
connected with his foster relatives, than with
the membere of his own family, and his adopted
father and brothers from this connection beMme
the chief men of the clan. As the office of foster-
father waa attended with such distinction, it
became the great mark of ambition, ao that no
price was thought too high to purchase it.

Next to the chief in influence and importance
among the native Irish, was the fiiea or bard.
The Celt of all countries, whether iVench, Irish,
Highland, or Welsh, has always been of a poetic
temperament ; and hence the account in which
the poet has been held amoug them, espe-
cially in the earlier stages of society. He was
their teacher and historian, the chronicler of
great deeds and dispenser of fame, upon whose
voice it depended whether a man should be ele-
vated into renown, condemned to iufamv, or

»Google

AD. 1485—1603-1

HISTORY OP SOCIETY.

285

Buuk in oblivion. SoimportantafunctionaiywBB
cooaeqaeDtly Biibjeeted to a long uul laborious
indniag, and we may. therefore, aafely credit the
IriaL legends about ihe colleges set apart for the
educatiou of 61eaa alone, at the time when Ire-
land was free, and the "harp of Tara " wsa swept
with an honoured band in the palaces of prin-
ccB. Now, however, his themes as well as his
office were of a less elevated description : he was
a vagabond among bondmen, and the eulogist
of thieves, rebels, and cut-throata, who coneti-
tuted his principal auditoiy. So at least saj
the English writen, who could Vb little ex-
pected to sympathize in those songs, under the
inspiration of which their houses were fired or
plimdered, their cattle driven away, and the na-
tional lesiatance perpetuated from generatioa to
generation. They add, also, that the terrors of
the filea ampng his own countrymen, from the
power of his satire, were so great, that, like cer-
tain modem journalists, his silence was often
purchased with a bribe. Of their songs in gene-
ral, fallen as they now undoubtedly were from
the ancient standard, a competent critic, the au-
thor of the "Faerie Queene,*says,"I have caused
divers of them to be translated unto me, that I
might understand them, and surely they savoured
of sweet wit, and good invention, but skilled
not of the goodly ornaments of poetry; yet were
they sprinkled with some pretty flowers of their
natural device, which gave good grace and come-
liness unto them, the which it is great pity to
see abused to the gracing of
wickedness and vic^, which
with good usage would serve
to adorn and beautify vir-
tue.' Such were the barda
of Ireland in the days of
Queen Elizabeth. Another
important personage, al-
though in a much less de-
gree, was the chiers story-
teller, " who bringeth his
lord on sleep with tales vain
and frivolous whereunto the /-'

number give sooth and ,'^
credence,* Such an indul-
gence, indeed, wasneceesary ^' ■■
among such a lively people,
who for the most part had
neither books to read, nor Ciuiu» or lui

scholarship enough to read

them, even had they been within their reach.
Schools, indeed, there were in the country, but
tikese it would appear, were chiefly for the be-
hoof of the children of the Anglo-Irish, and for
those only who were to be ttKined in medicine,
law, or divinity. Of course, Latin was the prin-
cipal language in requisition, but such Latin as

was overlaid with the barbarism of the coun-
try, as well as the monschism of the dark ages.
Campion, who describes these seminaries, tells us,
" I have seen them where they kept school, ten in
some one chamber, grovelling upon couches of
straw, their books at their noses, themselves
lying flat, prostrate ; and so to chant out their
lessons piecemeal, being the most part lusty fel-
lows of twenty-five years and upward." As
yet, the Irish priest had not obtained his para-
mount importance. Educated at such schools as
these, and regarded as the refuse of his proud
order, while Popery was still paramount over
Europe, he was little more than the Friar Tuck
of a band of outlaws, to bless them on setting
out on an expedition, and absolve them of its
crimes on their return. But when Protestantism
became the established faith of England, and
was imposed upon Ireland at sword-point, a new
principle of antagonism was introduced, in which
the native ecclesiastic was the most distinguished
agent He had now to fight for his order and
his faith, as well as his political liberty; and
while the people rallied round him as their na-
tural leader, the conflict was aggravated into the
tenfold bitterness of a religious war. Such was
the element now in active operation, which for
ceuturies after was to produce such disastrous

Ah might be expected in the state of such a
country, every native was more or leas a soldier,
or at least a robber and pluuderer. But of those

. HaBDHS WIIUHKO TBI Lascs. — Hul. MSB. ISlft.

who properly were soldiers, under the names of
gallowglasses or yeomen, and kerns or irregular
troops, we shall now briefly speak. That their
undisciplined cavalry were excellent horsemen,
and well fitted for the guerilla warfare of morass
and mountain, their enemies were ready (o at-
test. They rode> we ore told, with sliding reins.

»Google

UISTpItY OF ENGLAND.

[Social 9tatk.

and a. ahuik-pllliou vitliout atimips, and held
tbeir Uncea overhe&d instead of ooaehiDg them,
so that they could thrust suddenly, and at un-
awares, wherever an euemy wns exposed. They
could also dismount, run b/ the side of the horse
in full gallop, and vault into the saddle without
abating the career. In addition to their lanoes
which they used in hand-to-hand fight, these
wild cavaliers carried dorla of knotted wood about
four feet long, and tfinninating in a broad steel
head, which thej threw with great dexterity and
force. The defensive armour of the Irish sol-
diery, whether of horse or foot, consisted of a
quilted jack, which they wore every day as part
of their necessary clothing, and a light broad
shield of wicker work, resembling those of the
ootaent Britons at the period of the Roman iii-
vauon. Besides these, the cloak was of such
tough texture that it could blunt the ordinary
stroke of a sword, while it was of such ample di-
mensions, that during a long campaign, it aerved
the wearer for tent, bed, and clothing. With a
helmet the Irish soldier often dispensed ; but in
lieu of it, he wore his hair at full length, platted
into cords, and wound round his head ; and this
defence, which was called a glib, could withstand
both a sharp edge and heavy blow. With this
glib, too, uncoiled and thrown over his fiice, an
Irish Roldier could disguise himself for the pur-
^oaea of plunder or espial ; and when in danger
of detection he could cut it off in a trice, and look
as demure aa a harmless palmer. For offensive
weapons, the Irish gallowglassea or foot soldiers
had battles -axes, long sharp bi-oads words or
skeins — and for distant fight, short howa, and
short bearded arrows.

It will t>e seen that a military force like this
was no match in the open field for the superior
intelligence, arms, and discipline of the English ;
and the experiment, therefore, after a few trials,
the Irishseldom cared to hazard. Instead of this,
they confined themselves to the irregular warfare
for whidi they were bast fitl«d— to feigned flights,
skirmishes, and surprises. As might have been
expected, too, the English who were harsMed by
such a mode of resistance, which had continued
for centuries, and been conducted with adniirahle
cunning, were loud in their complaints of Irish
treachery, cowardice, and cruelty — forgetting
that every people so situated resist after the
same lashion. The Irish being also the weaker
party, although the most numerous, had reco
to supernatural aid besides the ordinary re-
sources ; and as their conquerors were not much
more enlightened than themselves upon such a
subject, they trembled more at the spells and in-
cantations, than at the weapons of the Irish, who,
they compluned, had enlisted the devil upoa
their side as an auxiliary. To this, the daring

deeds, and hair-breadth escapes of Borie Og«
O'More, already mentioned, and other soeh i^ef-
tains, were attributed, and not to mere natontl
cisft and courage. As the long sharp skein was
the favourite national weapon of the Irish, the
soldier swore by it as a patron sunt, while he
was anxious to increase its efficacy by a doable
portion of magic; and, therefore, before going to
battle, he addressed prayers to it^ signed it with
the cross, muttered oonjuratimia over i^ and
thrust its point into the earth, after which, he
charged the enemy as if he wielded a charmed
blade whicb nothing could resist Aa the bonds
of chivalry and distinctions of knighthood were
useless among such warriors, they were not
sought af^r; but in their stead they had a tie
called gomiprtd, which has existed among the
soldiery of moi-e than one nation of savages, both
of ancient and modem times. Under this goa-
sipred, the Irish bound themselves to otand by
eadi other to the death, whether in evil or in good ;
and to ratify the hargain, they opened their veins
and drank a small portion of each other's blood.
In turning to the domestic usi^ea and modes
of life among the Irish at the close of this period,
we find a ruder barbarism than had ever pre-
vailed either in Eughmd or Scotland. What
kiud of houses could he expected among a people
oompceed of predatory soldiers or wandering shep-
herds, and whose daily acramhle was not m«ely
for the means of subsistence, but for life ilMlf f
The dwelliniia of the peasantry were, therefore,
snch hovels as could be raised without trouble,
and abandoned without regret— mere shelters
of a mud incloaure, in which, we are told by
Spenser, men, women, childreu, and beasts, were
littered together without distinction, " in one
house, in one room, in one bed, that is, clean
straw, or rsther a foul dunghilL" This ooarse
mode of living was further confirmed by the
looseness of the marriage tie, in which man and
wife lived together for mutual convenience, and
parted upon the most frivolous quarrel, when
they went forth in quest of new partners. "They
seldom marry out of their own town," says Cam-
den, "and contract with one another not tn pnt-
Ktiii, but in fiUvTO, or else consent without any
manner of deliberatiou. Upou this account the
least difference generally parts them, the husband
taking another wife, and the wife another hus-
band; nor is it certain whether the contract be true
or false till they die. Hence arise feuds, rapines,
murders, and deadly animosities about succeeding
to the inheritance." As for the children of sudi
a union. Campion informs us, "the natives neither
swaddled nor lapped them in linen, but folded
them up stark naked in a blanket, after whicb it
wasfortunate if arag could befonnd to cover them.'
The truth of these squalid ^ctures of Irish do-

,v Google

JI.D. 1485—1603.1

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

287

mestic life, the expericDce of the nineteentfa cen-
torj can but too well verify. Aa for the drefls of
tlie people— A ecsnty theme^it in moet ioataacee
consisted of the thick sword-proof mantle we have
ftlreadly described, which served as the wearer's
elothes by day and blanket by night, and consti-
tuted the whole of his wardrobe. But among the
higher and wealthier classes a more becoming
style prevailed, the memorial of what the national
costume had been when the nation was free
and independent. This, besides thedoak, avow-
ing toga of saffroD col-
oar, which was the
national hue, consisted
of a oola or colaigh,
the claaaictil tunica of
ancient Borne, and as
Walker in his Hittory
Of' /rwA Bardt informs
nfl, was " a kind of
shirt of phiided stnff
or linen, dyed yellow,
and ornamented also
with needle -work ac-
cording to the I'auk of
the wearer. This shirt,"
he adds, " waa open be-
fore, and came as low
as mid-thigh ; the trunk
being thoB open was
folded round the body,
and mnde fast by a
girdle round the loins.
The bosom was cut
round, leaving the neck
and upper part of the
shoulders bare." This

costume, sufficiently '''""" oprJnk' '""'"*''
picturesque as well as

comfortable, constituted the full dress of a native
Irish geatlemaa; but his attire for ordinary occa-
sions, was a short woollen jacket with flowing
skirts, and apair of long trousers that fitted close
to the body, and were striped with a variety of
gay colours, like the tartan trcwi of the Highland
gentlemen of Scotland. Ofthecoetumeof the Irish
ladies of condition we are unable to be so explicit,
owing to the silence of the old English authors i
this subject The specimen, however, which we
annex in the way of illuHtrntiou, gives us little
cause to regret the omission. Here, the head-dress

a cap of the simplest and most demure kind,
allowing not a single tress or ringlet to escape
from its envelopment; while the whole form, from
shoulders to the feet, is shrouded in nn ample
cloak, descending in stiff folds, and giving no
token of ornament, except the fur, with which
the cape and edges are lined. Her rank, indeed,
is chiefly attested by the necklace and its pendant
.; but as for the other embellishments of her
inner attire, if they really exist, these are so ef-
fectually concealed by the external covering, that
the (act of their ex-
istence can only be
taken for granted.

In the fxmkery
and diet of the
Irish people of
this period, among
whom materials
were so scanty and
Gunine so frequent,

expect much re-
finement. A meal
was an uncertainty,
and the stomachs
that awaited it were
in no mood for de-
lay. Besides (his,
aa agriculture was
so limited among
them,notonlyfrom
the precariousnesa
ofitsprofits, but tile
contempt with

garded aa an oc-
^"""""Aft^'Ho^""'**"* cupation only fit

< " This Sfure ii rrom tTw flfH^ of R
Abbaj of Athaaal. annly of Tipperfuy,
doUwd In hiiclTU nhv. null without ui

:)un] dft Biu-gq. ir

to llM ukla in itnlcht foldi. Tha thonldensn ao
DLlI opa or IJppDt, which ia filmed on the bmit
I brooch-" — Arckttolagi<al JounuUf rol, ii. |i. 124.

a meal was almost wholly a flesh-feast, unquali-
fied by the humanizing influences of vegetables
and bread. The Bohemian baron, whose visit
to the Enri of Tyrone we have already men-
tioned, found, during an eight dayt^ journey in
his progress, no bread, no, not so much as a cake
of oatmeal, until he reached the table of the
mighty satrap himself. This, however, was not
to lie wondered at, when we are informed of
the patriotism 'Of the earl, which woe of such
a fierce description, that he cnrsed any of his
pedigree who should learn the English language,
build houses, or sow com. Even when a plenti-
ful table was spread, its coarse dainties were
served up otf turned wooden platters, for even
pewter was too costly a rarity; and when the
luxury of a table itself was wanting, which often
happened, a bundle of grass Kufliced, that served
the purposes of table, table-cloth, ewer, and nap-
kin. Descending from these "good men's feasts"

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social State.

to the Iriab common diet and proceeaea of cookeiy,
we ar« iafoniied by an author of the period (Mor-
gsn) : "They scam the seethiug-pot with a hand-
ful of Htraw, and etroin their milk taken from
the cow through a like handful of straw, none of
the cleanest, and bo cleanae, or rather more defile
the pot and milk. Tfaej devour great momels of
beef onaalted, imd they eat commonly swine's
6esb, seldom mutton; and all these pieces of flesh,
as Also the entrails of beasts unwashed, they seethe
in a hollow tree, lapped in a raw cow's hide, and
so set over the fire, and therewith swallow whole
lumpsof filthy butter. Yea {which is most con-
trary to nature) they will feed on horses dying
of themselves, not only upon small want of flesh,
but even for pleasure." To this account we may
add a few notices from Campion, who informs us,
that "in baste and hunger they would squeeze
out the blood of raw flesh, and ask no more
dressing thereto; therestboilethintheirst'^mache
with aquavit*, which they swill in after such a
Burfeit by quarts and pottles." He also men-
tioQR a still more loathsome and inhuman dish
which was in use among the Irish, This was
procured by bleeding their cattle, and letting the
blood congeal, after which it was baked, larded
with butter, and devoured in lumps. The milk
of tlieir cattle was also plentifully need at Irish
meals, warmed or curdled, by the process of
dropping a stone into it that had been heated in
the 6re for the purpose; and sometimes this
simple posset was enriched by an admixture of
beef-broth. Whatever vegetables they chanced

to use, were those that grew wild, such as the
water-cress, and especially the shamrock; this
last by its acid taste was pHrticularly gratoftd to
outlawed and starviDg fugitives, who snatched
it "like beasts out of ditehes, as they ran and
were chaced to and fro." Of the drinks used by
the Irish, the chief was aqaavit<e or whiskey,
exclosively a Celtic beverage, which was common
from a very early period both to Irishmen and
HighlandeiB, and sometimes it was flavoured by
the former with raisins, fennel-seed, or saffiron.
Sometimes sock found its way to the tables of
the rich from Spain, and ale aud beer from Eng-
land, but these last in smaller quantities. It
speaks much for the Arab-like character of the
people, that althongh they denied themselves so
much the luxury of bread, yet they carefnlly
hoarded their scanty stores of oats for the exeln-
sive sustenance of their horses.

Such was the state of Ireland at the doee of the
sixteenth and commencement of the seventeenth
centuries. It is truly a sickening pictnre; and
on considering it, we are naturally induced to
wonder that so little improvement has been ac-
complished iu the character and condition of the
native Irish, from that period till the present
day. Are we to attribute this political pheno-
menon to the Asiatic tenacity and indisposition
to change, manifested by the whole Celtic race,
aggravated in the case of Ireland by foreign do-
mination and misrule! Such a eoacJuaion the
wliole history of that nnhappy land seems ton
well calculated to verify.

,v Google

BOOK VII.

PERIOD FROM THE ACCESSION OF JAMES I. TO THE RESTORATION
OF CHARLES II.-57 YEARS.

CONTEMPORARY PRINCES.

leOS JAUKB I.

H25 OHASLU I.
1619 OOHKOMWBILTB.

isse B
leio L

1643 L

1623 VOBAR V

1614 i:

ias5 A

CHAPTER I.— CrVIL AND MILITAEY HI8T0EY.-

JAMRB )

— ACCBSSION, A.D. 1603— DEATH, A.D. 1628.

idingi of Qaara EUitbath's deith nut to Junta VI. of Sootluid— He ii prooUimed King of Eugluid, ^.— Uif
JoariMr to EngUod— HU tiriv&l in Loudoa— Coort pud to him bj fonign atotfla— Plot* ngiiiiit him in
London— Appnhamioii of tha prindiAl conipinton — Appreheiuloa Bud triid of Sir Walter fialeigh — Ub
and hii auociBtat rNpitod— Fatitian af the PoiitaDi for raliijioiu raform and a eonference— Tils eoaferencs
hold at Hampton Conrt — Jamai'l conduot M B diapntant — Flattarj paid to him b; tha biBhopa and coortien —
Uaatiog of hia Bret pBrUameDt— Junaa'a lore of hunting— Diaappointment of ths Cathotioa at not reoainug
tolention — Couipinton of tha Oonpowder Plot — Their pnipoia and pn»«»ding*~Detsctiou of tha plot—
ApprebBoaion of Favkat — Flight of tha oonipitBtan — Thoir daaperate laaatauaa and daath— Trial and eiecn-
tion of Fawkai—Trial and «iacntion of othara of the conipiraton — Appreheoaion of OBmet, tha Jaauit, and
hia aaaooiala, Hall- Their Impiiaoamenl in (ha Towsr— Nafuiona praMioaa to maka them oonfeaa their guilt
— Thair trial— Thej are eiecnted — Arbitnry proeeedingi of the Star Chamber.

Elizabeth had no sooner

^ breathed her last, thtiD hadj
•^i; Scrope, a daughter of her rela-
tbe late Lord Hnosdou,
^oommunicated the intelligence
> her brother, Si^ Bobert Ca-
''rej, who had been on the watch ;
and who, anticipating Cecil and the
other lords of the council, stole out
of the palace at Richmond, where the
queen had expired at three o'clock on the mom-
iug of Thursday, the 24th of March, and posted
down to Scotland, in order to be the first to
hail James Stuart as King of England. This
tender relative arrived at Edinburgh on the
night of Saturday the 36th, four days before Sir
Charles Perty and Thonuts Somerset, Esq., who
were despatched by the council i but it was
agreed with James to keep the great matter a I
Vol. II.

secret, until the formal despatch from Loudon
should reach him. Sir Robert Carey had scarcely
taken horse for the north when Cecil, Notting-
ham, Egerton, and others, met in secret debate
at RichmoDd at an early hour, before the queen's
death was known; and these lords "knowing
above all things delays to he most dangerous,"
proceeded at once to London, and drew up a pro-
clamation in the name "of the lords spiritual
and temporal, united and assisted with the late
queen's council, other principal gentlemen, the
lord-mayor, aldermen, and citizens of London, a
multitude of other good subjects and commons
of the realm." This proclamation bore thirty-siz
signatures, the three first being those of Robert
Lee, lord-mayor of London, the Archbishop
of Canterbury, and the Lord-keeper Egertou ;
the three last, those of Secretary Sir Robert Ce-
cil, Sir J. Fortescue, and Sir John Popham. It

,v Google

290

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

(C.

, AND UiLiTAnr.

was signed and ready about five hours after
(iUizabetb's decease; and then those who had
iiigned it went out of the council-chamber at
Whitehall, with Secretary Cecil at their head,
who had taken the chief direction of the busi-
iiesB, aud who in the front of the palace read to
the people the proclamation, which assured them
that the queen's majt^sty was realty dead, and
that the right of Bucceasion was wholly in James,
King of Scots, now King of England, Scotland,
France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &a.
They then went to the High Cross in Cheapside,

where Cecil again read the proclamation, and
when he had done, "the multitude with one con-
cent cried aloud — 'God save King James I'"
for all parties, or rather the three great religious
sects, High Churchmen, Puritans, and Papists,
*II promised themselves advantages from his
accession. Cecil next caused three heralds and a
trumpeter to proclaim the said tidings within the
walls of the Tower, where the heart of many a
itate-prisoner leaped for joy, and where Che Earl
of Southampton, the friend of the unfortunate
Enex, joined the rest in their signs of great glad-
nesa.' Of the other thirteen or fourteen conflict-
ing claims to tlie succession which had been
reckoned upat different times during Elizabeth's
reign, not one appears to have been publicly
mentioned, or even alluded to ; and the right of
Jamea was allowed to pass unquestioned. Such
btd been the able management of Cecil — such

■asit; KiUtm.' Oihonu. titmtirt iif Sir aiAitH Catrf-

was the readiness of the nation to acknowledge
the Scottish king, or their budable anxiety to
avoid a disputed successian and civil war.

There was one person, however, whose claim
excited uneasiness in the cautious mind of Cedl
— this was the Lady Arabella Stuart, daughter
of the Earl of Lennox, younger brother of
James's father, Damley, and descended equally
from the stock of Henry VIL' This young lady
was by birth an Englishwoman, a circumstance
which had been considered by some as making
up for her defect of primogeniture, for James,
though nearer, was a bom Scotchman and alien.
Cecil for some time had had his eye upon the
Lady Arabella, and she was now safe in his
keeping. Eight hundred dangerous or turbulent
persons, indistinctly described as " vagabonds,'"
were seized in two nights in London, and sent
to serve on board the Dutoh fleet. No other out-
ward precautions were deemed necessary by the
son of Burghley, who calmly waited the coming
of James and his own great reward, without ask-
ing for any pledge for the privileges of parlia-
ment, the liberties of the people, or the reform
of abuses which had grown with the growing
prerogative of the crown. But these were things
altogether overlooked, not only by Cecil and Not-
tingham, and those who acted with them, but
also by the parties opposed to them, the most
remarkable man among whom was Sir Walter
Baleigh, who, like all the other courtiert or
statesmen, looked entirely to hit) own interest or
aggrandizement.

Between the independent, unyielding spirit of
his clergy, the turbulent, intriguing habits of his
nobles, and his own poverty, James had led
rather a hard life in Scotland. He was eager to
take possession of England, which he looked
upon as the very Land of Promise; but 80 poor
was he that he could not begin his journey until
Cecil sent him down money. He asked for the
crown jewels of England for the queen his wife;
hut the council did not think fit to comply with
this request: and, on the 6th day of April, he set
out for Berwick, without wife or jewels. On
arriving at that ancient town he fired off, with his
own hand, a great piece of ordnance, an unusual
effort of courage on his part. On the same day
he wrote to his "right trusty and right well-
beloved cousins and councillors, tlie lords and
others of his privy council at London," thanking
them for the money which they had sent, telling
them that he would hasten his journey as much

^ JuHi^i cUim, howarer. wm tiot at All thxiiii^ hii luhar.
Lord DuiiJ«T, hut through hia maLhar, irho, u Uib fnod-
dHught«r or Junto IV. bj bb wife Unrgftnt. eld««( <Uii|ht4r dF
BmiT VII., wH. kflar EUabMb, ths nan nprnaoutln at
thukiitf. Th«lAdjAnbaU&uidb«riuHil«LoniDvn1a5ii'«*

mintiiGe with U>nh*w SCiiurt, Eul of litomai.

»Google

*.D. 1603-1606.] JAM

Ka convenientlj he might — thai )ie tutentled to
tarry awliile at the city of York, and to make hia
tattj therein in some such solemn manner as
Appertained to his dignity, and that, therefoi'e,
he shoald require that alJ such things as they in
thdr wisdom thought meet should be sent down
to York. The body of Elizabeth wiu still above
ground, and it would have been regular in liim
to attend her faneral in person. He assured the
lords that he could be well contented to do that,
and all other houoor he might, uuto " the queen
defimot;" and he referred it to their coasidenv-
tiou, whether it would be more honour for her
to have the funeral finished before he came, or
to wut and have him present at it Cecil and
his friends knew what

all this meant, and has- -''^'

teued the funeral; there
was no rejoicing aucces-
Bor preseut ; but ISOO
persons in deep mourn-
ing voluntarily followed
the body of Elizabeth
to Westminster Abbey,
The king waa a slow tra-
veUer. On the 13th of
April, or seven days af-
ter, he had got no far-
ther than Newcastle,
whence he wrote another
letter, commanding coins
of different denomina-
tions to be struck in gold
and silver. He gave
minute directions as to
arms, quarterings, and
mottoes. BythelStbof

April he had reached the Jahu I —From i ponnit t
house of Sir WillUm *"""*'

Ingleby at Topcliff; and from that place he wrote
a curious letter, to the lord-keeper, the lord-trea-
surer, the lord-admiral, the master of the hoi^e,
and the principal secretary for the time being. All
bis circumlocution and care could not conceal his
ill-humour at their not coming to meet him, and
their still delaying to send the crown jewels. It is
said that Jamee, in conversing with some of his
English counsellors about his prerogative, ex-
claimed joyously, "Do Imakethe judges? Do I
make the bishopsi Then, God's wounds! I make
what likes me law and gospel!" Though he had
hardly ever had the due and proper authority of a
king in his own country, he had long indulged in
a speculative absolutiHm, and, sa far as his cowar-
dice and indolence allowed bim, he came fully
prepared to rule the people of England as a des-
pot. To enliven hia journey he hunt«d along the
road. He was a miserable horseman, but his
courtiers invented for bim a sort of "hunting

S I. 291

made easy;" yet, notwithstanding their system
and hia own great caution, his majesty got a fall '
off his horse, near Belvoir Castle. " But God be
thanked," odds Cecil, in relating the accident to
the ambassador in France, " he hath no hann at
all by it, and it is no more than may befall any
other ffreat and extreme rider, as he is, at least
once every month."' Ashe approached the Eng-
lish capitul, hosta of courtiei-s aud aspirants after
plaou hurried to meet him and pay their homage.
Among these the great ITrancis Bacon was not
the last, who, ju a letter to the Eai'l of Northum-

berland, has left US a
impressions.'
Other persons who

record of his first

vere not, as Bacon was,
afraid of judging too
- boldly of James's charac-

ter and address, exprees-
ed astonishment, Lf not
disgust, at the very un-
royal person aud beha-
viour of the uew sove-
reign, whose legs were
too weak to carry his
body — whose tongue was
too large for hia month —
whose eyes were goggle,
rolling, and yet vacant —
whose apparel woi ne-
glected and dirty— whose
whole appearance and
bearing waa slovenly and
ungainly; wldle his un-
manly fears were betray-
ed by his wearing a
thickly wadded dagger-
proof doublet, and by
li'wi'^'"' *"" ' "'"'»'"" many other ridiculous
jirecaationa. To sneh as
hungered after tie honours of knighthood, he may
have appeared in a more favourable light, for, as
he went along, he profusely distributed theee
honours : in fact, he appears to have bestowed
the honour of knighthood on nearly every pereon
that came to him during Uiis hey-day journey.
At last, on the 3d of May, he reached Theobalds
in Hertfordshire, the sumptuous seat of Secretary
Cecil, where, as at other gentlemen's houses at
which he bad stayed, he was astonished at the
luxury, comparative elegance, and comfort he
found. He was met by all the lords of the late
queen's council, who knelt down and did their
homage, after which the Iiord-keeper Egerton
made a grave oration, in the name of all, signi-
fying their assured love and allegiance. On the
morrow he made twenty-eight more knights.
But it was not for these operations that Cecil

,v Google

292

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

I Civil A

> MlLITABT.

had induced him to take Theobalds on his way;
ELDd dnring the four diiys which the king paaaed
there, that wilj statesman ingratiated himself
with hia uew master, and remodelled a cabinet
rery much (though not entirely) to hU owi
lisfftction. The chief objectH of Cecil's present
jealousy were the Earl of Northumberland, Lord
Grey,liordCobhara, ajid the versatile, intriguing,
and ambitious Sir Walter Raleigh, who, very for-
tunately for Cecil, had given grounds of offence to
the king before Elizabeth's demise. Northnm-
berlund, who employed the cogent advocacy and
eloquent tongue ot Bacon, was promised a share
in the king's favour; but Cobham and Grey '
cut off from promotion, and Raleigh, who aepired
to the highest posta, was deprived of the subor-
dinate ones which he had held.' Cecil was re-
tained, together with his friends Nottingham,
Henry and Thomas Howard, Buckhurst, Mount-
joy, and Egerton, to whom James added four
Scottish lords, and his secretai;, Elphiustoue, a
nomination which instantly called forth jealousy
and discontent.

On the 7th of May the king moved towards
London, and was met at Stamford Hill by the
lord-mayor and aldermen of London, in scarlet
robes; and about six o'clock in the eveuing he
arrived at the Charter-house, where he made
some more knights. On the same day proclama-
tion was made that all the monopolies granted by
the late queen should be suspended till they had
been examined by the king and council,' that all
royal protections that hindered men's suits in
law should cease, and that the oppressions done
by saltpetre makers, purveyors, and cart-takera,
for the uee of the court, should be put down.
These were valuable instalments if they had been
held sacred; but a few days after, James, "being
a prince above oil others addicted to hunting,"
issued another proclamation, prohibiting all man-
ner of persons whatsoever from killing deer, and
all kinds of wild-fowl used for hunting and
hawking, upon pain of the severest penalties.'

From the Charter-house James removed to the
Tower, where he made more knights, and from
the Tower he proceeded to Greenwich, where he

■ BjmoD Punwr uid Ji

tonflna to 8dt SolKti tlw Bit rjghi of uiurtlng uhti ud old
•bos for HToa jwv. Oai ^Tn Eir Waitrr Ralrigk th« fVqllf
of dlipfluLns lioonM for kflsplng of tikTenu uhl ntftlUfig of

'SItt; &o(kCoIii>, ArfMim^rUi Cnrtmd StaU^f iHg-

•Hr. H^aiamtolbn^
tudanilHl UBHiretwiaM fmtil n

■t pnri of hla roifu Jur

made more. By the time he had set foot in his
palace of Whitehall, he had knighted SOO indivi-
duals of all kinds and colours, and before he had
been three months in England he had lavished
the honour on some 700 ; * nor was he very chary
even of the honour of the English peerage, whicii
Elisabeth held at so high a price. He presently
made four earls and nine barons, among whom
was Cecil, who became Lord Cecil, afterwards
Viscount Cranbome, and finally Earl of Salisbury.
Several of the English promotions exdl«d sur-
prise and derision; but these fe^nga gave place
to more angry passions when he elevated his Scot-
tish followers to seats in the House of Lords.
Before he had done he added sixty-two names to
the list of the peerage.

Towards the end of June, James met his queen
and hie children (with the exception of 'Charlec^
his second sou, who had been left behind in Scot-
land) at Windsor Castle, where the young prince
Henry was installed knight of the order of the
Garter. On the 22d of July the court removed
to Westminster, where the king, in his garden,
dubbed knights all the judges, all the serjeants-
at-law,* all the doctors of civil law, all the gen-
tlemen-ushers, and " many others of divers quali-
ties." Splendid preparations had been made tix
the coronation of the king and queen with page-
ants and shows of triumph; but as the plague
was raging in the city of London and the suburbs,
the peo]rfe were not permitted to go to Westmin-
ster to see the sight, but forbidden by proclama-
tion, lest the infection should be further spread
— for there died that week in London and the
suburbs of all diseases 1103; of the plague SS7.
To increase the inauspicious aspect of things, the
weather was darker and more rainy tluw bad
ever been known at such a season.* On the BSth
of July the coronation took place.

However weak might be the personal charac-
ter of James, the power of the great nation 1m
called to govern was not to he despised by
contending states on the Continent. Almect
immediately on his arrival, special ambaseadora
began to flock from all parte, to congratulate him
and to win him eatji to the ■ep>'

•M (-jut In ofalTnlrr (wb
I (a rmln knifhthood «
;o. Thool^ictoftMini
tboM wbo thoof ht ti» bcmanr i

h u ohooB to »pp«u- oould JMI » nioiea ; una um KonflH

rrign.— HiTTl.' Life <if JamH, p. 99,"— H«ll»ni'i Cimi<. Bid.
Sue. DDto U p. S33. Prom Tlu alert if OmtrBiilt. pnblkbod
ll»1»th'( nil|:ii. ws leun that u aai at puilimoBt had
puHd to piQtflot thorn wba hdd luidi hj ■0fB4*. ttimi
: mmpiillsd to bsunna knight* ud lunj iHntdiBglj. No
t thli woold mike itUl man ntrkod Uw siwtor hoDon
1 knJfhtlj taon ; ud pnbabl; > mlisd eMlisf ct iajtlV
prida of ruik ltd numboti of ths gentir to otqwiI to tb«
Knd claim their ondoabtod prlTllege of bung knif htad
moDg tlriHtbukidllitodVBdFxuidiBuoa. ■£(««.

oompotl Hon — Jt)FiH
0, to nice moaflj froi
ae ud oxpoD^T*, bi

»Googie

A.D. 1603—1606.] JAU

r&te views and intoKBts of bia court. The first
embasBytluit arrived was from the states of Hoi.
buid, Zealand, and the United Provincea, which
•tood most in need of English.
the BuitoTS of Portia in the immortal drama
searcelj' arriped with more rapidity
beautiCnl heiress, than did the rival dipIomatiRta
to win the ji^ood graces of James. James had no
aympathj for the emancipated subjects of Spain,
who had previuled in their struggle for independ-
ence, in good part throngh the nsustance lent U>
them bj Elizabeth ; and when over his caps he
■poke of the Holhmdera as rebels and traitors to
their lawful sovereign. The Hollander, more-
over, had not been very grateful for aid which
bad been lent from selfish motives, and they were
•low in paying the money they owed to England.
The Archduke of Aastria, on the other hand,
showed a great disposition to liberality, and it
appears pretty certain that his envoy CAremberg
wonld have prevailed with James, had it not
been for the address, the winning manners, and
the gold of Bosny, the French ambassador, after-
wards the great Duke of Sully, who distributed
bribes among the needy courtiera, and, it is said,
bribed the queen herself. James agreed to, and
even ratified a treaty, in which he bound him-
self with Henry IV. to send secret assistance in
money to the States, and, in case of Philip at-
tacking lYance, to join in open hostilities. Rosny
departed rejoicing; but it was soon foand that
King James had no money to spare, and that he
vas resolved to live in peace, even at the cost of
the national honour. Pride prevented the Span-
iiih court from sueing directly for a peace, but
Philip III. told some desperate English Catholic
plotters that he wished to -live in amity with
James; and hs soon sent over a regular ambassa-
dor to n^otiate in his own name. Deumark,Po-
land, the Palatinate, some other German states,
Tuscany, and Tenice, had already despatched
their envoys, and to all of them the king had
said, "Peace at home and abroad! — above all
things peace."'

But he had already been made acquainted with
' a plot which he thought threatened not only to
disturb peace at home, but also to deprive him of
his throne and life. Sir Walter Kaleigh.who was
smarting with the pangs of disappointed ambi-
tion, and transported with jealousy of the pre-
vailing influence of Cecil, was further enraged by
the king's depriving him of his valuable patent
of the monopoly of licensing taverns and retail-
ing wines throughout all England, and by seeing
his honourable post of captain of the guard be-
stowed npon one of the Scottish adventurers. In
■pite of his consummate abilities, hi

ES I. 293

politician; and our respect for his genius ought
not to blind us to the fact that, in the pursuit of
rank, power, and wealth, he could be a selfish,
dangerous, and remorseless man. His political
associate, Lord Cobham, who had joined with him
and Cecil in ruining the Earl of Essex, was now
equally disappointed and desperate. The Lord
Grey of Wilton, who hod partaken in their dis-
grace, partook also in their discontent and ilLwiU
against Cecil; but he was inspired by higher, or
less interested motives than Kaleigb and Cobham.
Each of these men had his partizaus of inferior
condition, and, up to a certain point, the disap-
pointed Earl of Northumberland, whom James
had amnsed with promises, "as a child with a
rattle,** went along with them, and seems to have
been a party in intriguing with Itosny aud with
Beaumont, the resident ambassador of France,
who had both been instructed to sow dissensious
in the English cabinet, and to overthrow, if possi-
ble, the power of Cecil.' Here Northumberland
stopped. The other three proceeded, at times in
concert, at times separately, and with diverg-
ing views. They would all have been powerless
and dientless, but for the unhappy disputes and
heartfaumings in matters of religion, and the dis-
gust which many men felt at the king's being
admitted without any pledge or assurance for the
redress of grievances, and the better observance
of the rights of parliament. The Puritans, who
were still growing in consideration, wished for
the establishment of a Presbyterian church, some-
what like that which had been set up by Knox
and his associates in Scotland; the Catholics
wished, for themselvee, toleration, and tomething
more; some minor and very weak seota would
have been satisfied with simple toleration ; but
the High Church party — the only true Protes-
tants by act of parliament — were determined to
oppose all these wishes and claims, and to press
for a uniformity of faith to be upheld by the
whole power of the penal statutes. Before his
coming to the crown of England, James had made
large promises to the Catholics ; but, on his ar-
rival in London, he threw himself into the arms
of the High Churchmen, who easily alarmed him
. the anti-monarchical influences of the conrt
of Borne. He swore that he would fight to death
against a toleration ; and he sent some Irish de-
puties to the Tower for petitioning for it.' The
oppressed and impatient began to conspire several
weeks before the coronation, and their plots,
loosely bound together by their common discon-
tent, were pretty certain to fall asunder of tbem-

Nortbunptoo. Id a Mt«r to

BaOi; Birth, KrfOlialiai

: Lodgt.- Uw £

I mtbihgUd lo I ScoUaluL

Inos.— Lord ^Jha,
V qiK4«d b^ Cuto.

»Google

S91

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[ClTU. AMP UlUTART,

•elveB. It abould appear thkt the Catholics, tbe
rooot oppreaaed partj, took the initiative ; but
the fkct ia not certain, and it la impoaaible to
Bxptftin hj what meana thej were brought to
oooleaM with the Puritana, who were mora in-
tolerant of their faith than the High Chnrchmen.
Sir Oriffin Markhuin, a Catholic of amaU property
or inflnence, joined with two aeciilar prieatagWat-
Bou and Clarke, and with Oeoi^e Brooke, a bro-
ther of Lord Cobham's, and an able but unprin-
cipled man.' The prieat, Watson, had been with
James in Scotland previous to Elizabetb'a death
to Ifain bia favour for the Catholics ; and he said
aftflrwards to the council, that the king's broken
promises and determination to allow of no toler-
ation to bis church had induced him to enter into
the plot. He was for a time the chief-mover in
it: he drew up and adminiatered a terrible oath
of secreof, and, together with Clarke, laboured
and travelled incessantly to induce the Catholic
gentry to join the caose. He was, however, re-
markably unBUCcesaful;for,of the Catholic gentry,
■caroely one of any weight or conaequeuce joined
the conapiratora, except Anthony Copley, of the
west of England. It was probably on thia f^ure
(he must have moved and acted rapidly), that
Watson won over the chief leaders of the Puri-
tans by ooncealing from thsm the greater part ot
his views. Lotd Grey of Wilton was a Puritan,
sad, though a yoong man, the leader of his party,
and he entered into the plot, and engaged to fur-
nish 100 men well mounted. Lord Cobbara, and
perhaps Baleigb, were privy to this conspiracy i
but it appears that they took no active part in it,
being engaged in a separate plot of their own.
Cecil says that Grey was drawn into the "priest's
treason" in ignorance that ao many Papists were
eugaged in the action, and that aa soon aa ha had
knowledge of their nambera, ha songht to sever
himself from them by dissuading the execution
of their project till some futura time. Thia pro-
ject was, to seice the king's person, and to keep
him in confinement (as the Scotch had done before
them) till he changed hia miuistera, and granted
a toleration, together with a free pardon, to all
who had been concerned in the plot. Buch was
the constitution of the " Bya Plot," as it was
called. The "Main," in which Raleigh and
Cobham were engaged, was far more compact,
but atill weak and wild ; and George Brooke, the
brother-in-law, and tatpeeUd tool of Cecil,
engaged in it, aa well as in the " Bye."

i Kt. JmiAlne [Criatimal T>idU] HJ1, "It I

m utoMtal nsltlwr by poIitUx] DOr nU|

Mr. T;lliiT tUfinrH"!^) UUnlu II (itmiiel J probabta tfail

On the S4th of June, the day appointed by
the "Bye" for seizing the king on his road to
Windsor, Lord Grey and hia 100 men were not
at the place of meeting, and the prieat WatsMi
and his Catholic friends were too weak to at-
tempt anything. On the 6th of July, Anthony
Copley was arrest«d ; and aa he was timid, and
reiidy to confess, and as Cecil knew already (if
not through Brooke, through otlier parties), of
the whole plot of the "Bye," Sir Grilfin Mark-
ham, the prieaCa Watson and Clarke, and the
rest ot Copley's confederates, were presently ap-
prehended. Cecil, who appears to have been as
well acquainted with the "Main" as with the
" Bye," met Sir Walter Baleigh on the terrace at
Windsor, and requested his attendance before
the lords of the council, then aecretly assembled
in the custle. Baleigh obeyed the aummona,
and was instantly questioned touching his friend
Cobham'a private dealings with ike Courii cCA rem-
berff. At first he asserted that there could have
been no unwarrantable or treasonable practices
between Cobham and tliat ambassador ; but on
being further preaaed, he said that Ia Ren^,
lyAremberg's servant, might bettor explain what
passed than he could do. Sir Walter waa al<
lowed to depart a free man, and he forthwith
wrote a letter to Cecil, recommending him to
interrogate Id Renay. It is said that Raleigh
then wrote to Cobham, warning him of his dan-
ger, and that this lettor was intercepted by Cecil.
Cobham was called before the council, where,
by showing Raleigh's letter to himself, advising
him to question D'Aremberg'a servant, and by
otherwise working on hia temper, Cucil made
Cobham believe that he had been basely be-
trayed by Baleigh, and then confess that he had
been led into a conspiracy by his friend Sir
Walter. Both were secured and committed to
the Tower, where, on the 27th of Jnly, two days
after the king's coronation, Baleigh ia aaid to
have attempted his own life.*

On account of the plague, which made the
king's ministers, judges, and lawyers, flee from
place to place, and partly owing to the presence
of D'Aremberg, who did not leave England till •
October, no judicial proceedings were instituted
till the 19th of November, when the commonen
implicatod in the " Bye * were arraigned in Win-
chester Castle. " Brooke, Uarkham, Brookesby,
Copley, and the two priests," says a narrative of
the afiair written at tha time, "were condemned
for practising the aurpriae of the king's peiaon,
the taking of the Tower, the deposing of coun-
sellors, and proclaiming liberty of religion. They
were all condemned upon their own confeaaiona,
which were set down under their own hands as
declarations, and compiled wj^h such labour and

' CV><>7, ^iqrilaM^. Itcnnll, SOU Ti

,v Google

4j). 1003-1600.] jam;

care, to nwka Uie matter they undertook seem
rery feasible, as if the; had feared the; should
not sa; enongh to hang themselves."' It had
DOt been thought ooDvenient to place the able
Baleigh with these poor blunderers, or to try
him for his privity to the " Bye.* He wae tried
upon the " Uaiii ;' his trial " served for a whole
Act, and he played all the parte himself."

Baleigh'a trial lasted from eight in the morn-
ing till eleven at night. The only evidence pro-
duced agunst him wns the wavering and partly
conti&diotory confesedon of Cobham, together
with A letter written by Cobham the day before,
in which he accused Balmgh aa the first mover
of the plot. The overt acts chained were, that,
on tha 9th of June, 8ir Walter lUleigh had con-
ferred with Lord Cobham about advancing Aia-
bella Stuart to the crown of England ; that it
was then agreed between them that Lord Cob-
ham should go to the King of Spain and the
Archdnke of Austria, in order to obtnin from
them 600,000 crowns for the purpose of support-
ing Arabella Stuart's title ; that Arabella Staari^
should write letters to the King of Spnin, the
archduke, and the Duke of Sttvoy, and nnder-
tkke with them these three things:— Peace with
Spain — toleration of the Popish religion in Ekig-
Luid — and to marry according to the King of
Spain's will. The indictment further charged,
that it was agreed that Cobham should r«tum
from the Continent by Jersey, and thei'e meet
Sir Walter Baleigh (who hod been allowed
retain the government of that island) to consult
further as to the best means of working ont the
plot, smd as to the public men and others who
were to be bribed and bought with tlie 600,000
crowiu; that, on the same 9th of June, Lord Cob-
ham communicated the plot to George Bi'Ooke,
who assented to it; that, on the 12th of June,
Cobham and Brooke said, " that there never
would be a good worid in England till the king
and his cube were taken away;" that Baleigh
delivered to Cobham a book written agiunst the
king's title to the crown ; that Cobham, at the
instigation of Baleigh, persuaded Brooke to urge
Arabella Stuart to write the letters afores^d
that, on the I9th of June, Cobham wrote letters
to the ambaeaador lyAremberg for the advance
of 600,000 crowns, and sent the letters by La
fiensy ; that lyAremberg promised the money ;
and that then Cobham promised Raleigh that he
would give him 8000 crowns of it, and Brookt
1000 crowns.

To this indictment, which indisputably in
eluded many absurdities. Sir Walter pleaded not
gnilty. The king's Serjeant, Eeale, opened the

; I. 295

points of the indictment i in the conclusion of
his speech he sud, with some simplicity, " as for
the Lady Arabella, she hath no more title to tha
crown than I have ; and, before Ood, I utterly
lounce any.* Baleigh smiled. The great Coke,
attorney-general, then took up the case with
excessive heat and UttemeBS. He began by de-
scribing the horrible intentions of the " Bye,"
among which he mentioned, that the traitor* had
intended to male prociamation again^ motto-
paliet. "I pray you, gentlemen of the jury," said
Baleigh, " remember I am not charged with the
Bye,' which was the treason of die priests."
' You are not," atud Coke ; " but it will be seen
that ail these treasons, though they conusted of
several parts, closed in together, like Samson's
foxes, which were joined in their tula though
heads were separated." After a deal of pe-

■ Lattar from Bit DwUtr Cvldoo (a Kr. John Chuibarliin

dantry, and some punning. Coke, still connecting
the prisoner with the "Bye," Baleigli asked what
was the treason of the priests to him. " I will
then come close to you," said Coke; "I will prove
yon to be the most notorious traitor that ever
the bar: you are indeed upon the 'Main,'
but yon have followed them of the 'Bye' in
imitation." He proceeded with increasing vio-
lence, charging Buleigb with things not in the
indictment, calling him "a damnable atheist" —
a spider of hell "^" the moat vile and execrable
of traitois!" In some parts of his remarkable
defence Raleigh rose to a rare eloquence. " I
was not BO bare of seose," said he, "but I saw
that if ever this state was strong and able to de-
fend itself, it was now. The kingdom of Scot-
land united, whence we were wont to fear all
our troubles ; Ireland quieted, where our forcea
were wont to be divided. ... I was not snch
a madman as to make myself in this time, a
Robin Hood, a Wat Tyler, or a Jack Cade. I
knew, also, the state of the Spanish king well —
his weakness, and poorness, and humbleness, at
this time. I knew that six times we had re-
pulsed his forces, thrice in Ireland, thrice at sea,
and once at Cadiz, on his own coast. Thrice had
I aerved against him my«elf at sea, wherein for
my country's sake I had expended, of my own
properties, ^4000. I knew that where before-
time he was wont to have forty great sails at the
least in his porta, now he hath not past six or
seven; and, for sending to his Indiee, he was
driven to hire strange vessels, a thing conbnry
to the institutions of his proud ancestors, who
straitly forbad, in case of any necessity, that the
Kings of Spain should make their case known to
strangers. I knew that of X2a,O0U,000 he had
from his Indies, he had scarce any left ; nay, I
knew his poorness at this time to be such, that
the Jesuits, his imps, were fain to beg at the
church doors; his pride so abated aa, notwith-

»Google

HI8T0KT OF ENGLAND.

[Civil awd Uiutart.

abinding his former liigh terras, he was glad to
coDgTstulate the kiug, my master, on hie atxai-
■ion, &ud DOW cometh creeping uuto him for

Coke saiil that the Lord Cobham was " a good
tuid hoDonrable gentleman till overtaken hj thii
wretch* Aaleigh said that Cobhiinvas"B poor,
Billy, haae, diahonourable soul !* He demanded
tha^ he and hU accuser should be brought face to
face: he appealed to the itatutes of Edward VI.,
which required two witnesses for the conderaoing
a man to death on a charge of treason ; and to
the law of God, or the Jewish law, which made
that numlier of witnesses neceaaarj to prove auj
capital charge. " If," he said, "you proceed to
condemn me l^ bare inferences, upoD a paper
accusation, you ti; me by the Spanish inquisi-
tion." At the end of another most eloquent
speech, he eiclaime<l, "My lords, let Cobham be
sent for: I know he ia in this very house I I
beseech you let him be confronted with me l Let
him be here openly charged upon his soul — upon
his allegiance to the king— and if he will then
maintain bia accusation to my face, I will con-
fess myself guilty!' To his prayer for produc-
ing Cobham in court, the crown lawyers paid no
attention whatever, persisting in their denuncia-
tions and abuae with aatoiunding volubility. But
there was not a man less likely to submit easily
to the common process of "being talked to death
by lawyers:' he could talk with the best of them,
and he fought them all, hard and firm, to tlie
last. " I will have the last word for the king '.'
aaid Coke. " Nay, I will have the last word for
my life!* replied the prisoner. In the end, the
jury returned a reluctant verdict of guilty. The
frightful sentence, with all its revolting detMls,
was then pronounced. Sir Walter after thia used
no words to the court openly, but desired to
speak privately with the Earl of Suffolk, the
Earl of Devonshire, the Lord Henry Howard,
and my Lord Cecil, whom he entreated to be
•uitore in bia behalf to his majesty, that, in re-
gard of the places of honour be had held, his
death might be honourable and not ignominious.
The lords promiaed to do their best for him: the
court rose, and the undaunted prisoner was car-
ried up again to the castle. Baleigh's conduct
gained for him the admiration of his bitterest
enemies, and, with the exception of the court
cabal, which dreaded his wondrous wit and abil-
ities more than ever, there was scarcely a man iti
the kingdom but would have became a petitioner
for his pardon.

The fair and accomplished Lady ArabeUa,
whoee namo was repeatedly mentioned iu the
evidence against Haleigh, and who was soon to
be far more hapless and helpless than the pri-
■oiiar at the bar, was present at the trial. Cecil

Ktdd that she, the king's near kinswoman, waa
innocent of all these things ; only she received a
letter from my Lord Cobham to prepare her,
which she laughed at, and immediately sent it
to the king. And the lord-admiral (Charles Ho-
ward, £larl of Nottingham, formerly Lord Ho-
ward of Effingham), who was with the Lady
Arabella in a gallery, stood up and said, that the
lady, there present, protested, upon her salvation,
that she never dealt in any of these things.' It
is, indeed, generally admitted that she never en-
tertained a hope or a wish of establishing her
claim to the throne, and that she was perfecUy
innocent of any project or plot. The Lords Cob-
ham and Grey were airaigned separately before
a commission consisting of eleven earia and nine-
teen barons.' "Cobham,* says an eye-witncM,
" lad the way on Friday. . . . Never was seen
BO poor and abject a spirit. He heard his indict-
ment with much fear and trembling, and would
sometimes interrupt it, by forswearing what he
thought to be wrongly inaerted." He denied
having had any design to set up the Imdj Ara-
bella. He waa all submission and meekness to
his judges^all violence against his companions
in misfortune. He laid the whole blame of what
had been done amiss upon Raleigh, exclaiming
bitterly against him. He inveighed still mor«
bitterly against his own brother, George BitN^e,
terming him a corrupt and most wicked wretch,
ft murderer, a very viper. He accused young
Harvey, the son of the lieutenant of the Tower,
of having carried letters between him and Ra-
leigh during their confinement. " Having thus
accused all his friends and ao little excused him-
self, the peers were not long in deliberation what
to judge; and, after sentence of caudemnation
given, be begged a great while for life and favour,
alleging his confession as a meritorious act."* To
obtain favour, he represented that the king's
father was hia god-father, and that his own
father had suffered imprisonment for the king's
mother.* The Puritan lord was far more manly.
" Grey, quite in another key, l>egan with great
spirit and alacrity, spake a long and eloquent
speech. ... He held them the whole day, from
eight in the morning till eight at night ; but the
evidence waa too perspicuous." They had con-
demned the coward without hesitation, but they
hesitated long ere they would give their verdict
against thia brave young nan.** When the lonis

■ LoOge. lllxMmlmu.

* " Tt» Diiko ol Louun, Um Eular Mu. ■adm

lord! Hood m >)iaiiUt<in ; utd of our ladlH. ta« (i
H Um LuIt Hutllngtum. tta* Udji HnlbUi. ud U
Mia, •rtslMnl iLrril/m^liipiittit^UutiJtifL--

»Google

4.11 1603-lBOe.] JAW

had given their verdict, and he wan asked why
sentence of death should not be pronounced,
these were hia only words:—" I have nothing to
say;" — here he paused long;— "and yet a word of
Tncitua comes in my miod — Non eadem omnibut
decora; the house of the Wiltons hath spent many
lires in their prince's service, and Grey cannot
buhls' (^od send the king a long and prosperous
reign, and to your lordshipa all honour I'" The
only favour he asked was that he might be at-
tended by a divine of his own persuasion. " It
was determined " (to use the unfeeling language
of a contemporary) " that the priests should lead
the dance;" and, on the 29th of November, Wat-
son and Clarke were executed at Winchester.
They"were very bloodily handled" On theSlh
of December Cobham'a brother, Geoi^e Brooke,
who had been " persuaded to die well ' by the
Bishop of Chichester, sent from the court for that
purpose, was brought to the scaffold also at Win
Chester; but he was merely beheaded like a gen-
tleman, and was pitied by the people. His last

words, with other circtimstances, go to confirm
the suspicion that Brooke had been first employed
and then abandoned by Cecil, to whom (as Cla-
rendon has said of him) " it was as necessary
there should be treasons as it was for the state
to prevent them.* By the king's ordei-a the
Bishop of Chichester went from the bleeding body
of Brooke to his brother, the LordCobham; and,
at the same time, the Bishop of Winchester was
sent to RaJeigh; " both by express order from the
ting; as well to prepare them for their ends, as
to bring them to liberal confessions. . . . The
Bishop of Chichester had soon done what he
came for, finding in Cobham a readiness to die
well; with purpose at his death toafiirm as much
as he liad said against Raleigh: but the other
bishop had more to do with his charge; for
though, for his conscience, he found him (Sir

JwllM mrt. " It i> >ii
unoeuid high iBfllins.

Vot. II.

ES I. 297

Walter) well settled, anil resolved to die a Chris-
tian and a good Protestant, touching the point of
confession he found him so strait-laced, that
he would yield to no part of Cobhani's accusa-
tion."' Lord Grey, who was also told to pi'epare
tor death, was left alone with hia Puritan preacher,
without being comforted or troubled by auy
bishop of the king's sending. Markhara was
told he should likewise die; but he was so as-
sured by secret messages from some friends at
court that he would not believe it. The lords
of the council, or some of them, advised the
king, as he was in the beginning of hia reign,
to show examples of mercy ita well as of severity;
" but some others, led by their private spleen
and [lassions, drew as hard the other way; and
Patrick Galloway, io his sermon, preached so
hotly against remisaness and moderation of jus-
tice, in the head of justice, as if it were one of
the seven deadly sins." James let the lords
know that it became not them to be petitioners
(or mercy; but he told Galloway, or those who,
taking the fanatic cue, pressed for im-
mediate execution, that he would go
no whit the faster for their driving.'
He was revelling in the delights of a
masse and mystery, the clearing up of
which, ho fancied, would imjircss Ills
new Bubjecla with a wonderful notion
of hia dexterity and genius. Men
knewnotwhat to think; butfromthii
care he seemed to take to have the law
hold its course, and the executions
hastened, the friends and relatives of
the pnsoners concluded that there
could be no hope of mercy. He signeil
the death-warrants of Markham, Grey,
and Cobham, on Wednesday ; and on
Friday, at about ten o'clock, Markliam was
brought to the scaffold, aud allowed to take a
last farewell of hia friends, and to prepare him-
self for the block. But, when the victim had
suffered all that was most painful iti death, one
John Gibb, a Scotoh groom of the bedchamber,
secretly withdrew the 'sheriff for awhile; where-
upon the execution was stayed, and Markham left
upon the scaffold to his own wretched thoughts.
The sheriff, returning at lost, told liim, that aa
he was so badly prepared he should have two
hours' respite to make his peace with Heaven;
and so led him from the scaffold without giving
him auy more comfort, and locked him up by
himself. The Lord Grey, whose turn was next,
was led to the scaffold by a troop of young noble-
men, and was supported on both sides by two of
his best friends. He had such gaiety and cheer
in his countenance that he looked like a young
bridegroom. In front of the block he fell upon

' Sir Di'-Bit CafiHon.

144

,v Google

£93

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CiTIL ASD MlUTART.

his kuces, nnd prayed with the. terrencj and
zeal of a reHgioiia spirit for more than half an
hour, wheD, an he waa euiliug, and waa espect-
iog the signal to atretch hia neck under the aie,
the sheriff suddenly told him he had received
commands from the king to change the order
of the execution, and that the Lord Cobham
waa to go before him. And thereupon Grey was
likewise removed from the scafibld and locked
op apart. While the people were lost in amaze-
ment, the third prisoner was led up to the block.
"The Lord Cobham, who waa now to play hia
part, and who, by his foruier actions, promised
nothing but -ouaiire pour n're, did much cozen
the world ; for he came to the scaffold with good
aMurance and contempt of death. . . . Some few
words he used, to express hia sorrow for his of-
fence to the king, and crave pardon of him and
the world; for Sir Walter Raleigh he took U,
upon the ho)>e of his eoul's resurrection, that what
he had said of biin was true," He would have
taken afarewell of the world, when he was stayed
by the sheriff, and told that there waa something
else to be done — that he was to be confronted
with some other of the prisonero, naming uo one.
And thereupon Grey and Markham were brought
back separately to the scaffold, each believing
that his companions were already executed; and
theylookedetrangeandwildlyone upon the other,
" like men beheaded and met again in the other
world." Mow all the actors being together on
the stage (as use is at the end of a pUiy), the
sheriff made a short speech unto them, by way
of interrogatory, of tlie heinousnesa of their of-
fences, the juatuess of their trials, their lawful
condemnation, and due execution there to be
performed; to alt which they assented: then, said
the sheriff, see the mercy of your prince, who of
himself hath sent hither the countermand, and
given you your Uvea. There waa then no need to
lieg a plaailiCt of the audience, fur it was given
with such hues and cries that it went from the
castle into the town, and there began afresh."
Kaleigh, who had a window in bia prison open-
ing upon the castle green of Winchester, the
scene of these strange doings, waa hard put to it
to beat out the meaning of the stratagem. Hia
turn was to have come on the Monday follow-
ing; but the king gave him pardon of life with
the rest, and ordered him to be sent with Grey
and Cobham lo the Tower of London, there to
remain during his roya! pleasure.' The sapient
■lame* congratulated himaelf on the effect pro-
iluceii by hia wonderful sagacity. Many persons •'~

had disbelieved Cobham's confession ; some had
even doubted whether there had been any seri-
ous plot at all, beyond a design on Raleigh's part
to get money from the court of Spain, for pro-
moting a favourable treaty of peace; but now
they had heard Cobham repeat bis confession in
sight of the axe;' and though, in the case of stale
prisoners, many dying speeches had been notori-
ously false, men were atill disposed to give great
weight and credit to such orations and depoai-

The king took posaession of the estates of the
conspirators, but for some time refused to give
away any of their lands to his covetous courtiers.
Lord Cobham, after some few years, was rather
suffered to stray out of his pri^<on in the Tower
than released in form; a beggar, and an object of
contempt, he found an asylum in a misetkble
house in the Minories, belonging t« one who
had formerly been bis servant, and upon whose
charity he meanly threw himself. There, in a
wretched loft, accessible by means of a ladder,
he died in 1619, the year after the bloody execu-
tion of Raleigh. The Lord Grey was more closely
looked to; and he died a prisoner in the Tower
in 1614. Kaleigh remained in the same tortnsa
tilt the mouth of March, 161S, when we shall
meet him again, daring and enterprising as ever.
Markham, Brooksby, and Copley, were banished
the kingdom.*

In declaring that lie would allow of no tolera-
tion, James pledged himself to become a perae-
cuturi and there were men about him disposeil
to ui^ge him to a rij^d enforcement of the penal
statutes, both against Catholics and Puritana
The former, knowing their weakness, were si-
lent; but the Pnrilaue soon drew up what they
called their "millenary petition,"' wherein they
called for reformation of certain ceremoniea and
es in the church, and for a eonferener. The
latter was the sort of thing that James, who
ileemed himself the most learned and perfect of
controversialists, loved above all others. He
id, besides, a long-standing debt to square with
the Puritans, who had not merely been a main
le of his unhappy mother's defamation and
I — this be might have overlooked— Wt had
also aet bia authority at nought, contradicted him
and pestered him from his cnulle till his depar-
ture for England, and bad made him drain the cup
of humiliation to its very dregs. He had been
obliged to fall in with their views of churvh go-
vernment, and to conform to their crewl. In the

9iliu>T of tbit Inporiuit work

injir Kgbt oa Uiaii rkju

»Google

4.0, 1603—1606,] JAM

general oBsemblf at Edinburgh, in 1690, "lie
stood up with his bonnet off, and his hands lift«d
up to heaven, and said he praised God that he
was bom in the time of the light of the goepel,
and in such a place, as to be king of each a
church, the ainceruit (purest) kirk in the world."'
From the year 1996, however, Jaroee had gone
upon a directly^ opposite tack in eculesiastical mat^
ters. In 1598 he had completely changed the
constitution of the S4»>ttish church, by appoint-
ing certain of the clei^gy to hold seats in parlia-
ment. The whole course of bis policy as to
ecclesissticol matters, from this time forward,
tended to transform the Scottish establishment
from A Presbyterian to on Episcopalian church.
In 1599 he wrote and published for the instruction
of hia son Prince Henry, his BcuUieon Doron, &
master-piece of pedantry, a model of abuse,
againet the Puritans and the whole church po-
lity of Scotland! Nothing, he said, could be
more monstrous than parity or equality in the
church; nothing mora derogatory to the kingly
dignity than the independence of preachers, *

Tliese were the real sentiments of James; but
the English bishops had neither perfect confidence
in hia steadiness of purpose, nor full acqutuntance
with bis feelings, and for a while he kept them
in ao uncomfortable state of suspense. Like the
chief personages in the tragi-comedy at Win-
chester, Markham, Cobham, and Qrey, who did
not know but that they were to be beheaded, the
bishops, almost to the last momeut, did not
know but that their syatem would beoverthrown.
On the 14th of January, 1604, James held hia
first field-day in his privy chamber at Hampton
Court On the one side were arrayed nearly
twenty bishops and high dignitaries of the Esta-
blished churcii, the lords of the privy council,
and sundry courtiers, all determined to applaud
to the skies the royal wisdom and learning;
the other side were only four reforming preachers
— Doctors Reynolds and Sparks, professore of
divinity at Oxford; and Knewstutis and Chat'
terton of Cambridge ; the king sat high above
them all "proudly eminent," as modeiati^r.
the first day the learned doctors did not enter
upon the real controversy, bat, after a day's rest,
they met again on the 16th, when the Puritans
proceeded roundly to business, beginning by de-
manding, among other things, that the Book of
Commou Prayer should be revised ; that the cup
and surplice, the sign of the cross in bapti
baptism by women, confirmation, the use of the

I kfUmnb nhl to hii Eniliili

thli mt of mm (Purituaar PrHbTtniuul nniliio* I ma Wn
ywiold; mt I Bur Bf «( BTHir, OJ CAntf wxld^ hvimV.
tboofb 1 liml unoDg Uwu, jr*. tiacm I bmil abllltr to lodga. I

299

ring in marTisge, the reading of the Apocrypha,
the bowing at the name of Jesus, should all be
set aaide; that non-residence and pluralities in
the church should not be suffered, nor the com-
mendams held by the bishops ; that unnecessary
excommunications should cease, ss also the obli-

n of subscribing to the Thirty-nine Articles.
The bishops chose to make their chief stand upon

::eremonies, the Book of Common Prayer,
and the Articles : and London and Winchester,
ited by some of the deans, tipoke vehemently
at great length. Then, without listening to
the four Puritans, James himself took up the
argument, and combated for the Anglican ortho-
doxy, in a mixed strain of pedantry, solemnity,
levity, and buffoonery. He talked of baptism,
public and private, of confirmation, of marriage,
of excommunication, and absolution. But, as it
has been remarked, it woidd be endless to relate
alt be siud, for he loved speaking, and was in his
element whilst disputing. In the heat of bis
argnment he treated St. Jerome very disrespect-
fully, for saying that bishops were not by Divine
ordination, closing his speech with this short
aphorism ; — "No bishop, no king." When he

tired. Dr. Beynolda was allowed to talk a
little. The doctor stated hia objections to the
Apocrypha, which was ordered to be read by the
Book of Common Prayer, and particularly to the
book of Ecclesiaaticus. James called for a Bible,
expounded a chapter of Ecclesiaaticus in his own
way, and then turning to his applauding lords,
said, "What trow ye make these men so angry
with Ecclesiasticusl By my soul, I think Ec-
clesiasticus was a bishop, or they would never
use him so.* The bishops smiled decorously —
the courtiers grinned. In answer to a question
started by the abashed and browbeaten Puritans
— how for on ordinance of the chnrch could bind
without impeaching Christian liberty) he said
"he would not argue that point, but answer
therein as kings are wont to do in parliament,
U roy iavUera, adding withal, that the queiy
smelled very ronkty of Anabaptiem," And then
he told a story about Mr. John Black, a Scottish
preacher, who had impudently told him that
m»tt«rs of ceremony in the church ought to be
left in Christian liberty to every man, " But,"
added James, "I will none of that; I will have
one doctrine and one discipline — one religion in
substance and in ceremony." "If," he said, "you
aim at a Scottish presbytery, it ogreeth with
monarchy as God with the devil," Beyaolds
was esteemed one of the ocutest logicians and
most learned divines then in the kingdom, but
James treated him in this manner: — "Well,
doctor, have you anything more to say (" The
doctor, who hod been constantly interrupted and
insulted, replied, " No, please your roajexty." Then

»Google

■g>Iii: uul bill

'"Google

A.T>. 1603— leoe.] JAM.

Puritfuia, who liad uatumlly more couroge and
contidence than their four baited preachers at
Ilonipton Court. Indeed, the commODB met him
on tlieir threshold with a debate abont privilege;
and, iu the courae of the session, he waa vexed
hy other demonBtr&tiona.' The commons insti-
tuted aji inquiry into monopolies, which, in spite
of James'a proclamation, seem to have flourished
as much aa, or more than ever. They also at-
tacked the monstrous abuses of purveyance, and
the incideuta of feudal tenure, by which, among
other things, the kiug became guardian to wards,
and received the proceeds of their estates till
they came of age, without accounting for the
money. The cotnraoua asserted that, notwith-
standing the aix and thirty statutes which had
been made to check the evil, the practice of pur-
veyance was enforced by the Board of Oreen
Cloth, w)io piiniafaed and imprisoned on their
own warrant; that the royal purveyors did what
they list in the country, seizing carta, carriages,
honseH, and proviaiona ; felling trees without the
owners' consent, and exacting labour from the
jieople, which they paid for very badly, or not at
all. On the subject of wardships, they were
equally cogent, and the diaguat at thia lucrative
tyranny was increased by the popular belief that
Cecil derived a good part of hia enormous in<
from tliis particular branch of the prerogative.
This grievance, with others, was referred
committee, in which the rising Francis Bacon
jiliiyed a conspicuous part, trying to unite
u|>i>osite charactsi's of a patriot and courti
reformer and aycophant. Speaking before the
king iu council, he said that the king's was the
voice of God iu man— the good spirit of God in
the month of man. But in the House of Com-
mons he could speak boldly of the abuses of
government and the sufferings of the people. T~
lords refused to go with the commons, and,
the end, and by their advice, the matter i
droppe<l aa premature, and somewhat unsesa
able in the king's first parliament. None of the
other proposed reforms were carried, or
pushed ; but as the court did not seem inclined
to yield anything, the commons resolved not to
be over generous with the people's money. They
passed the usual bill, granting tonnage and

Df th«<r •pskvr. thit 1w (ould not bo o l>w|1>« bj blnuelf—

nfbrmfld. nor jDOODTfliiflDt Un Abni|Kt«d. hj may otlber pow«r
ttwD tb*t of U» bigh sDort of puUimtnt—tbit u. bj' tba ncns-
nHml of tfaa tnioDHmB, Ihi HCOrd of tbv loTdH, Jhnd tti* Mtetit of
th« (ovvreign." Aqdftt th«and of thttmion Xhwj told hfia —
" ToBT m^twt)' would be nUnfomiad If llnTmu•hDnldd•lJr•r
tb■t Uw King! of EnfUiid b>Ts mj ■taututa pavar in Uwn
Klt» Bilh<T to ftjtor nligwru or miUia uiy Uvrs t^tmamibg cfao
wmo, otborviH Uun h in tompontl wm*s V^ DoiiBBiit of pu--

SOI

poundage (or the king's life, and there they
itoppe<l, without hinting at any further aupplies.
Having also a fearful eye to a relapse into Popery,
they urgently pressed for execution of the penal
statutes againat Uutbolics. As the bishopa, into
whoae arms Jamea had thrown himaelf, united
with the PuritacB in these demands, no opposi-
tion was encountered, and the rivalry of the two
diviaions of Protestants increased the severity of
the existing lawa. On the Tth of July the par-
liament was prorogued.

Meanwhile the new king spent most of his
time in hunting, his love of field-aporta increas-
ing with his means of gratifying it. AVhitehall,
London, the scenes of business and ceremony,
were all desert«d for Boystan and Newmarket.
The offiiirs of the state might wait, but Jamea
would not lose his sport. Men first wondered,
and then began to comphiiu and satirize. Ex-
cept the Earl of Worcester, none of the council
I, not a clerk of the council nor privy signet
M with hia majeaty the while. A little later,
Matthew Uutton, Archbishop of York, in writ-
ing f« Cecil, then Lord Cranborue, against Pa-
pist and recusants, took the liberty to oflVr some
advice about the king's long absences. " I con-
feaa," says the prelate, " that I ara not to deal
in state matters, yet, as one that honoureth and
loveth hia most excellent majeaty with all my
heart, I wish less wasting of the treasure of the
realm, and more moderation iu the lawful exer-
cise of hunting, both that poor men's com may
be less spoiled and other hia majesty's subjects
more spared."' But sport was not to be inter-
rupted, and so his majesty went from Royston to
Newmarket to hunt there, and then from New-
market to hunt at Thetford. During these ambu-
latory proceedinga the Puritan ministers, whom
the new primate, Bancroft (quaintly described as
"a man of a rough temper and a stout fnot-bnll
player,"') had lieen aotlve in expelling from their
livings iu the church, gave Jamea some disturb-
ance by waiting upoa him to present petitions,
and their party caused him further trouble by
writing and printing certain letters. Against
the aurora of these papers, and against others
who hod ventured to remonstrate, James let
loose Cecil, whom he was accustomed to call his
" little beagle." Upon quitting the sporta of the
field hia serious attention was devoted to aolve
the problem, whether a man (one Richard Had-
dock) could preach good sermons and speak ex-
ceeding good Hebrew and Greek in his sleep,
being, when awake, no divine, and ignorant of
both those learned languages.

The Catholics, who hod expected toleration, or
an approach to it, were enraged at the increased
severity of the laws directed againat them ; and

»Google

302

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ.

, AND MlLITAHT.

Mine of tliem were absolutely maddened by the
persecutioDS tbey suffered, and by the heavy fines
they were cooatantly called upon to pay. Among
the Bufferera there was one capable of the moat
daring deeds. This was B«bert Cateaby, asoldier
of fortune, and gentleman of an ancient family
and good estate. lie hud engaged in the rash
busiuess of the Earl of Essei, who had pro-
mised liberty of conteienee; he had intrigued with
the court of France, and with the Spanish court;
but, at last, seeing no hopes of asustance from
those quarters, he conceived the project of de-
stroying, at one blow, king, lords, and commons.
Horrible and desperate as was the plot, he soon
found a few apiriUi as furious as his own to join
in it TJie first peraon to whom he opened hia
design was Thomas Winter, a gentleman of Wor-
cesterahire. This man was, at first, overcome
with horror, and, though Cateeby removed bis
repugnance by dr&wing the most frightful pic-
ture of tiie sufferings of their co-religiouisbs, he
would not agree to the mighty murder till they
had solicited the mediation of the King of Spain,
who was then negotiating with James. Winter
passed over to the Netherlands, where he soon
learned from the Spanish ambassador that his
court could not get a clause of toleration inserted
in the English treaty. At this moment, when he
had made up his mind to co-operate with Oates-
by, he accidentally encountered, in the town of
Ostend, another soldier of fortune, an old fellow-
traveller and associate. This was Ouy, or Guido,
Fawkes, whom (knowing htm t« be the most
daring of men) he carried over to England.
E^wkes did not come for pay. It has been ciis-
tonuuy to represent him as a low, mercenary
ruffian, but it appears, on the contrary, that he
was a pure fanatic, and as much a gentleman as
the others. Before Winter and Fawkes had been
many days with Cateaby in London, they were
joined by two other conspiratora, Thomas Percy,
a distant relation and steward to the Earl of
Northumberland, and John Wright, Percy's br»-
ther-in-law, who was reputed the best swords-
man in all England. Percy, during Elizabeth's
time, had visited Edinburgh, where James, \o
secure what influence be could command, had
promised " to tolerate maaa in a comer." He was
now furious at the king's broken promises. They
all met at Catesby's lodgings. '* Well, gentle-
men," cried Percy, "shall we always talk and
never doT Catesby said that, before opening
the particulnra of hia scheme, they must all take
a solemn oath of secrecy. The condition was ac-
cepted by all, anil, a few days afterwards, they
met at a lunely house, in the fields, beyond St.
Clement's Inn. "You shall swear by the blessed
Trinity, and by the sacrament you now propose
to receive, never to disclose directly or indirectly,

by word or circumstance, the matter that shall
be proposed to you to keep secret, nor desist from
the execution thereof until the rest shall give
you leave.* Such was the form of the oath which
was taken, on their knees, by Catesby, Pen^,
Thomaa Winter, John Wright, and Fawkes; and
immediately after they had taken the oath,
Catesby explained that his purpose was to blow
up the Parliament House with gunpowder the
next time the King should go to the House of
Lords. He then led them all to an upper room
in the same lone house, where they heard mass,
and received the sacrament from Father Gerard,
a Jesuit missionary, who, it is said, was not ad-
mitted into the horrid secret. Percy's zeal was
unabated, and an office he held about the court
(he was a gentleman pensioner) gave him facili-
ties which the others did not possess. Their
Arst object was to secure a house adjoining tiie
parliament huilding. As Percy, by his office,
was obliged to live during a part of the year
near to Whitehall, there would appear nothing
strange in his taking a lodging in that i^uarter.
After some search they found a house held by
one Ferria, as teuant to Whinneard, the keeper
of the king's wardrobe, which seemed adapted to
their purpose. This Percy hired in hisowu name,
by a written agreement with Ferris.' When
they took possession they again swore to be faith-
ful and secret. The back of tlie house, or an out-
building, leaned against the very wall of the i^r-
liament House. Here they resolved to commence
operations by cutting away the wall in oi-der to
make a mine through iL It was an arduous task
to gentlemen unaccustomed to manual labour;
and before they could well begin, they learned
tliat the king had prorogued parliament to the
7th of February, and upon this news they agreed
to separate, and, after visiting their friends in
the country, to meet again in November. In the
interval tbey hii-ed another house, situated on the
lAmbeth side of the river. Here they cautiously
deposited wood, gunpowder, and other combusti- '
bles. The custody of the house at lArobeth was
committed to Robert Kay, a Catholic gentleman
in indigent circumstances, who took the oatli
and entered iuto the plot When the chief con-
spirators met again in the capital, they found
themselves debarred of the use of their house at
Westminster, for the court had thought fit to
accommodate tlierein the commission era that
were engaged on James's premature scheme for
a union between Enghiud and Scotland.

While they were waiting im]Mitiently for quiet
jiOBBcssion of the premises, several circumstJUices
occurred that were calculated to keep their mth-
lefw purpose alive. At the assizes held in Ivinni-

»Google

4.D. 1603-160&] JAM

abire in the preceding aammer, aiz xmioaiy
priesta and Jesuits were tried, condemoed, &ad
eiecuted, under the statute of the 2Tth of Eliza-
beth, for reouiining within the realm. Mr. Pooiid,
a Catholic geDtleman of an advanced age, then
living in lADcashire, who had Buffered iu Eliza-
beth's time, presented a petition to the king com-
plaioing genenJlj of the persecution, hnd in par-
ticular of the recent proceediugs. He was im-
mediately seized and carried before the privy
council, uid, after an eiomiiiation, committed to
the tender mercies of the Star Chamber. In that
tribunal, on the 29th of November, the poor old
gentleman, unaided and alone, was assailed by
Coke the attorney-geneisl, Chief-justice Popham,
Chancellor Egerton, the Archbishop of Canter-
bury, the Bishop of London, Cecil, and several
other judges and members of the privy council.
Among them they sentenced Mr. Pound to be
imprisooed in the Fleet dnriog the king's plea-
sure, to stand in the pillory both at Lancaster and
Westminster, and to pay a fine of ^1000: nay,
tbey were near doing worse, for an infamous pro-
position to nait the old man to the pillory, and
cut off his ears, was negatived by a majority of
only one or two. After this iuiquitoua sentence
there was an increased activity in hunting for
prieata and levying fines on the reciiaants ; and
yet the zealots cried that this was not enough,
and that the sword of the law ought to be
sharpened at the next meeting of parliament.

At last, on a dark December night, Cateshy
and his confederates entered the house at West-
minster, and commenced operations, having pre-
viously laid in a store of hard eggs, dried meats,
pasties, and such proviMons as would keep, in
order to avoid suspicion by going or sending
abroad for food. They presently fonnd that the
wait to be penetrated was of tremendoua thick-
ness, and that more hands would he required to
do the work. Kay was therefore brought over
from the house at Lumbeth, and the party was
further reinforced by the enlisting of Christepher
Wright, a younger brother of John Wright, who
was already in the ]>lot. Now, in all, they were
seven. "All which aeven," said Fawkes on hia
examination, "were gentlemen of name and
blood; and nut any was employed in or about
this action (no, not so much as in digging and
mining) that was not a gentleman. And while
tlie others wrought I stood as sentinel to descry
any man that came near ; and when any man
came near to the place, upon warning ^ven by
me, they ceased until they had again notice from
me to proceed ; and we seven lay in the house,
and had shot and powder, and we all resolved
to die in that place before we yielded or
t^en." They lightened, or, it may be, sometimes
burdened, their heavy toil with diacuSBioos of

303

future plans. Horses and armour were to be
collected in Warwickshire. They resolved if poa-
to save all members of the two houses that
Catholics, bat they could not agree as to the
t mode of doing this. The notion of apply-
ing U) the Catholics abroad and the pope was
discarded aa uselesa and unsafe. They were
working hard to cut their way through the stub-
bom wall, when Fawkea brought intelligence
that the king, who had no great desire to meet
that body again, had further prorogued parlia-
ment from the 7th of February to the 3d of Oc-
tol>er. Hereupon they agreed to separate till
after the Christmas holidays.

In the month of January, Cates-
'■ ^'^- by, being at Oxford, admitted two
other conspiratora. One of these was John Grant,
accomplished but moody gentleman of War-
wickshire, who possessed at Norbrook, between
the towns of Warwick and Stratford-on-Avon, a
large and strong mansion-house, walled round
and moated, which seemed the best possible place
for the reception of horses and ammunition.
Lamentation and grief had been carried within
those walls in Elizabeth's time, and Grant's
melancholy disposition took its rise from the pei^
ion he had endured. The other was Bobert
Winter, the eldest brother of Thomas Winter,
who was already engaged, and one of whose sis-
was wife to Grant of Norbrook. Shortly
after,Cate3by,BUBpectiDgthat his servant Thomas
Bates bad an inkling of the plot, thought it pru-
dent to make him a full accomplice, and bind
him by the oath of secrecy. About the begin-
ning of February they all met in the house at
Westminster, and resumed their painful toils.
Their ears were acutely sensible to the least
sound, their hearte susceptible of supernatural
dread. They heard, or fancied they heard, the
tolling of a bell deep in the earth under the Par-
liament House, and the noise was stepped by as-
persions of holy water. But, one morning, while
working in their mine, they heard a loud rumbling
noise nearly over their heads. There was a pause
—a fear that they had been discovered ; but
Fawkes soon brought intelligence that it was
nothing but one Bright who was selling off his
stock of coals, intending to remove his business
from a cellar under the Parliament House to some
other place. This opportunity seemed miracu-
lous: the cellar was immediately below the House
of Lords ; the wall of separation was not yet cut
through, and doubts were entertained wheUier
they should be able to complete the work with-
out discovery. Percy hired the cellar of the
dealer in coals: the 'mine was ^Mndoned, and
they began to remove thirty-six barrels of gun-
powder from the house at Lambeth on the oppo-
site bonk of the river. Tbey threw large stones

,v Google

SOI

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

, AND MlUTABT.

and bars of iron among the powder to make the
breach the greater, and they carefully covered
over the whole with fagots and billets of wood.
All this was completed by the month of Mny,
when they once more separated. Fawkes was

despatched into Spanish Flanders to win over
Sir William Stanley and Captain Owen, who held
military commands there, and who were suppoaetl
capable of collecting a good number of men,
either Euglish Catholics or foreigners, Fawkes
returned in August, having succeeded no further
than to obtain a promise from Owen that he
would communicate with Stanley, who was at
that time absent in Spain. In September, Sir
Edmund Baynham, a gentleman of an ancient
family iu Gloucestershire, wna admitted into the
whole, or part of the plot, and despatched to
Home, not to reveal the project, but to endearour
to gain the favour of the Vatican when the blow
should be struck. The rent remained in amtious
expectation of the day — it was near at hand-
when the king still further prorogued the parlia-
ment from the 3il of October to the Sth of No-
vember. The couBpiratom thought that they
were suspected. Thomas Winter undertook to
go into the house on the day on which proroga-
tion was to be made, and observe the counlenances
and behaviour of tlie lords- commissioners. He
found all tranquil: the commissioners were walk-
ing abont and conversing in the House of Lords,

just over the thirty-sii barrels of gunpowder: he
returned and told his companions that their
secret was safe. About Michaelmas it was agreed
to admit three more Catholic gentlemen, who
were known to have a command of ready mouey,
into the plot The first of these was Sir Everard
Digby, of Drystuke, in Rutlandshire, an enthusi-
astic young man, and a bosom friend of Catesbv.
Digby had immense estates, a young wife, and
two infant children; but, after some sti-uggle with
his domestic feelings and conscience, he yielded
to Catesby, promised to furnish j£l5(K) for fur-
thering the plot, and to collect his Catholic friends
on Dunsmore Ueatb in Warwickshire, by the ^th
of November, as if for a hunting party. Tlie
second was Ambrose Rookwond, of Coldham
Hall, Suffolk, the head of a very ancient and
opulent family. Like Digby, he had long been
the bosom friend of Catesby; and his romantic
attachment to that chief conspirator seems to have
been a more leading passion than his religious
fanaticism. He had a magnificent stud of horses,
which made his accession very desirable. Ijke
most of the others, he at first shuddered at the
prospect of so much slaughter, but his scruples
were quieted by Catesby; and, to be near the
general rendezvous at Dunsmore, he removed
with his family to Clopton, near Stratford^>n.
Avon. Ho had suffered fines and persecutiomt,
but he was still wealthy, and, until entering the
gunpowder treason, a peaceful, happy man. The
third accession was in Francis Tresham, eldest
son and heir of Sir Thomas Tresham, who haci
recently succeeded his fatlier in a large estate in
Northamptonshire, Sir Thomas had felt the
vengeance of the penal laws; in his own words,
he had undergone "full twenty years of restless
adversity and deep disgrace, only for testimony
of his conscience," Hia son Francis had been
engaged very actively with the Earl of E>iBex,
and was only saved from the block by his father's
bribing a great lady and some people about the
court with several thousand pounds : yet, after
that narrow escape, Francis Tresham had had his
hand in several plots. It appears, however, that
he did not enjoy the confidence of the desjierate
men with whom he had been engaged, and thai
he passed for a fickle, mean-spirited man; but he
was Cateaby's near relation, and he had money,
whereof (after taking the oath) he engaged to
furnish £iOOO. But, from the moment Tresham
was admitted, Catesby became a prey to misgiv-
ings and alarms.

As the great day— the 5th of Novemlier — ap-
proached, the conspirators had several secret
consultations at White Webbs, a house near En-
field Chase, then a wild, solitary place.' Here it

»Google

AD. 1603-1606,]

JAM

I.

805

TVM nsoNed th&t Fawkes should fin the mine
by means of a alow-bnming match, which would
allow- him time to escape before tbe explosion of
the gnnpowder (there was a ship, hired with
Tresham's money, lying io the Thamen, rtkJ in
this Ouido was to embark and to proceed to
Flanders); that, after the catastrophe, the Prin-
cess Elizabeth, io case of their losing the Printre
of Waiea and Prince ChuleB, was to be immedi-
ately proclaimed qneen, and a regent appointed
during her minority. But now they felt the dif-
ficulty there would be in warning and saTing
their friends, and moat of them had dear friends
and relations in parliament. In the upper
house, for example, the Lords Btourton and
MoDnteagle, both Catholics, had married siaters
of Francis Tresham, and Trenham was exceeding
earnest that they should have some warning given
them, in order to keep away from parliament.
Percy also was eager to save his relative the Earl
of Northumberland ; and Kay, or Keyes, the de-
cayed gentleman who had had chai^ of the honse
at lAmbeth, was equally anxious to save his
friend and patron. Lord Mordaunt, who bad given
food and shelter to his wife and children. There
were others whose fate excited the liveliest in-
terest-; and all of them were desirous of warning
the youthfnl Earl of Amndel. But Cateeby un-
dertook to prove to them that most of the Catho-
lics would be absent, seeing that their presence
would be useless, as they could not prevent the
passing of new penal laws against tliair religion.
" Snt," said Catesbj, "with all that, rather than
the project should not take effect, if they were as
dear unto me ae mine own son, they ^ao must
be blown up."

A day or two after, Tresham suddenly and un-
expectedly came upon Cateaby, Thomas Winter,
and Fawkes, at Enfield Chase, and once more re-
quired that warning sliouhl be given directly to
his brother-in-law Monnteagle. Cateshy and his
two determined comrades hesitated; and then, it
is said that Tresham told them that, as he could
not furnish the money he hail promised for some
time to come, it would be much better for them
to defer the execution of the plot till tbe closing
of parliament, and pass the interval safely in
Flanders. Cntesby, Thomas Winter, and Fawkes
remained fixed to their purpose. Here tbe dork
story becomes doubly dark and doubtful; but it
should seem that Tresham went away and warned
norw penoni than Lord Uounteagle. There is
also ground for believing that Sir Everard Digby
and some others of tbe conspirators pat their
particular friends on their guard, though they
may have adopted a different method, and one not
likely to reveal the secret. The Lord Monut-
sagle had a mansion at Hoxton which he seldom
visited ; but, on the 26th of October, ten days be-

VoL. IL

fore the intended meeting of parlisnieut, he most
unexpectedly ordered a supper to be prepared in
that hoose. As he was sitting at table, about
seven o'clock in tbe evening, his page preeentetl
to him a letter, which he said he had just re-
ceived from a tall man, who had departs, and
whose features he could not reoogniee in the dark.
His lordship, still sitting at table, opened the let-
ter, and, seeing that it had neither date nor sig-
nature, he tossed it to a gentleman in his service,
desiring him to read it aloud. The gentleman

"my lord out of the love i bi^re to some of
youer frends i have a caer of yoiier preservacion
therefor i would adVyse yowe as yowe tender
youer lyf to devyse some exscuse to shift of youer
attendance at this parleament for god & man
hathe concurred to punish the wickednes of this
tyme & thinke not slightlye of this advertisment
but retyere youre self into yonre contrie wheare
yowe maye expect the event in safti for thowghe
theare be no apparance of anni stir yet i snye
they shall receyve a terrible blowe this parlea-
ment ft yet they shall uot seie who hurts them
this oonncel is not to be contemned because it
maye do yowe good and can do yowe. no harme
for the dangere is passed as soon as yowe havs
burnt the letter and i hope god will give yowe
the grace to make good use of it to whose holy
ppoteccion i commend yowe."

The authorship of this letter has been attribu-
ted to several persons, to women as well as to
men, but it seems to us all but eertun that it
waa really written by, or under the dictation of
Tresham. Lord Mounteagle, who, notwithstand-
ing hia religion, was on good terms with the court
and council (he had recently received en impor-
tant favour from the king), carried the letter the
same evening to Whitehall, and showed it to
Cecil and several of the ministers. The king was
away "hunting the fearful hare at Royston," and
Ceoil reeolvod that nothing should be done until
his return. On the following morning Mount-
eagle's gentleman, who had read the letter at the
supper-table, warned Thomas Winter that it had
been delivered to Cecil. Winter carried this
alarming intelligence to Catesby, who instantly
suspected the indiscretion or treachery of Tre-
sham. This suspicion waa the stronger, from the
circumstance that Tresham had absented himself
for several days, having caused it to be given out
that be had gone into Northamptonshire. No-
thing, however, occurred to show that govern-
ment had caught the cine: and, on the 30th of
October, Treaham not only returned to town, but
attended the summons of Catesby and Winter.
The three conspirators met on that same day in
Enfield Chase. Catesby and Winter directly
charged Tresham with having written the letter

146

,v Google

306

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

a MlLtTAXT.

to Uonnteagle; and, while they accused him and
tie defended himself, thej fixed tbeir searcbiog
ejea on hia couDtenance. It was clear and firm;
his voice faltered not; he Bwore the most solemn
oaths that he was ignorant of the letter; and they
let him go. If he had betrayed any aigna of fear
or confusion, tlieir desperate minds were made up
to stab him to the heart where he stood. They
then returned to Loudon, and sent Fawkes. who
knew nothing of the letter, to see if all was right
in the cellar. He presently reported that the
barrels of powder and the other things were just
as they had been lefL Then Cateshy and Winter
told him of the letter, and excused themselves
for having placed him in such danger without
a waraiog. Fawkes coolly said that he should
have gone just as readily if he lind known all, and
he undertook to return to the cellar once every
day till the 5th of November. By certain marks
which he had pat behind the door, he was quite
•ure that no one could enter without hia know-
ledge.

On the 3lBt of October James arrived from
Boyston, and on the next day Cecil put the letter
into his hands, informing him of the curious cir-
enmatiuices of ita delivery, Accoi-ding to the
story generally received, it was James'a wonder-
ful sagacity aad penetration that first discovered
the meaning of the myaterioua epiatle, but it is
proved beyond a doubt that both Cecil and Suf-
folk, the lord-chamberlun, had read the riddle
several days before, and had communicated it to
several lords of the council before the subject
waR mentioned to the king.' But as this was an
opportunity of flat(«iing James on the qualities
in which he most prided himself, the courtly
ministers proclaimed to the public that all the
merit of the discovery was his. Coke, upon the
trial of the conspirators, declared that his majesty
had made it through a Divine illiunination. It
appears to h&ve been the advice of Cecil that
nothing should be done to interrupt " the devilish
practice," till the night before the king went to
the house. On Sunday, the 3d of November, the
conspirators were warned by Lord Monnteagle's
gentleman that the king had seen the lett«r and
made great account of it. Upon thiaTbomaa Win-
ter sought another interview with Tresham, and
they met that same evening in Liucoln'a-InnWalk.
Tresham spoke like a man beside himself; and
said that, to his certain knowledge, they were all
lost men, unless they saved themselves by instant
Might. But these infatuated men would not flee,
uor did Treaham himself eillier flee or seek con-
cealment. Catesby, Winter, and all the rest,
were now convinced that Tresham was in cora-
n with Mounteagle, and perhaps with

I St* utt« of th> Eul ot etiuivTj ic«u.> I

Cecil. Percyinsiated that they ought t« see what
the following day — the last day of anxiety And
doubt — would bring forth, before they thought
of other measures. Their vessel still lay in the
Thames ready to slip its cable at a moment's
notice. It was, however, resolved that Catesby
and John Wright should ride otf, on the follow-
ing afternoon, to join Sir Everard Digby, at Dun-
church. That very night, in spite of all Uieir
suspicions, Fawkes, with undaunted counge,
went to keep watch in the cellar.

On Monday afternoon Suffolk, the lord-cham-
beriain, whose duty it was to see that all arrange-
ments for the meeting of parliament were pro-
perly made, went down to the house accom-
panied by Lord Mounteagle. After passing some
time in the Parliament Chamber, they descended
to the vaults and cellars, pretending that aome
of the king's etuf& were missing. They threw
open the door of the powder-cellar, and there
they saw standing in a comer " a very tall and
desperate fellow." It was Guido Fawkes, whoee
wonderful nerves were proof even to this trial.
ThechHmberlain,with affected carelessness, asked
him who he was) Beaud that he was servant to

Mr. Percy, and looking after his master's coals.
" Your master," said the courtier, " has bid in n
good stock of fuel :" and, without adding any-
thing else, he and Mounteagle left the cellar.
When ttiey were gone their way Fawkes harried
to acquaint Percy with their visit, and tlien re-
turned to the cellar, resolute to the last, hoping
against hope! At about two o'clock in the room-
ing (it was now the Sth ot November) Fawkes
undid the door of the cellar, and came foith

,v Google

A.D. 1003—1606.] JAM

boot«d and spurred, to look about tiim. At tbat
iiiHtuit, and before he could move back, he was
•rised and pinioned by a party of soldiers under
(be command of Sir Thomas Knerett, a magis-
trate of Westminster. If the desperado had onlj
had time to light a match they would all have
been blown into the air together. When they
had bound him hand and foot, they searched his
penoa and found a watch (which was not com-
raoD then), some touchwood and tinder, and aonie
slow matches. Within the cellar and behind the
door was found a dark lantern with a light burn-
ing in it The prisoner was carried to Whitehall,
and Uiere, in the royal bed-chamber, he was in-
terrelated by the king and council, who seem to
have been ^raid of him, bound and helpless as
he was, for his voice was still bold, his count«-
nancB unchanged, and be returned with score
and defiance their inquisitive glances. His name,
he said, was John Johnson— hia condition that
of a servant to Mr. Thomas Percy. He boldly
avowed his purpose, and sfud he was sorry it
was not done. When pressed to disclose who
were his accomplices, he replied that he conld
not resolve to accuse any. The king asked him
how he could have the heart to destroy his chil-
dren and so many innocent souls that must have
suffered? "Dangerous diseases,* said Fawkes,
" reqnire desperate remedies." One of the Scot-
tish courtiers inquired why he had collected so
many barrels of gunpowder! " One of my ob-
jects," eud the conspirator, " was to blow Scotch-
men back into Scotland." In the morning of the
6th of November he was removed to the Tower,
James sending instructions with him that he
was to be put through all the grades of torture
in order to elicit confession.' For three or four
days be would confess nothing (it appears that
he was not severely tortured till the lOth); but
his accomplices declared themselves by flying and
taking up arms — that is, all of them except Trea-
bam, who remuned in London at his usual place
of abode, showed himself openly in the street,
and even went to the council to offer his sendees
in apprehending the rebels. Catesby and John
Wright had departed for Dunchurcb the pre-
ceding evening; Percy and Christopher Wright
waited till they learned Fawkes' arrest ; and
Rookwood and Keyes, who were little known in
london, determined to remun to see what would
follow. In the morning when they went abroad
they found that all was known, and that honor
and amazement were expressed in every count«-
nance. Keyes then left Loudon ; but Bookwood,
who had placed relays of his fine horsea all the
WMy to Dunchurch, lingered to the last moment.

■ '"tbt fantln Urrtun
fwba ad Ins Mnrfolw

. «, IB Ui> BUM Pkpar QOam.

•S I. 307

in the hope of collecting more intelligence. It
was near the hour of noon when he took horse ;
but, once mounted, he rode with desperate haste.
He soon put the bill of Higbgate between him
and the capital: he spurred across Finchley Com-
mon, where he overtook Keyes, who kept him
company as far as Turvey in Bedfordshire. fVom
that point Bookwood galloped on to Brickhill,
where he overtook Catesby and John Wright.
Soon afterwards they came up with Percy and
Christopher Wright, and then all Ave rode toge-
ther with headlong speed, some of them throw-
ing their cloaks into the hedge to ride the lighter,
till they came to Ashby St. Legers, in Northamp-
tonshire, at ail o'clock in the evening. The dis-
tance from London was eighty miles, which Rook-
wood had riddeu in little more than six hours.
If they had chosen to ride on to some sea-port
they might certainly have escaped with their
lives; but they had no such design. Some of the
bunting party, with whom was Winter, a princi-
pal conspirator, had taken up their quarters for
the night in the house of I^y Catesby, at Asbby
St. Legers, and were sitting down to supper when
Bookwood, Percy, and the othera from London,
entered the ^artment, covered with dirt, and half
dead with fatigue. Their story was soon told ;
and then the whole party, taking with them all
the arms they could find, mounted and rode off to
Dunchurch. There thej found Sir Everard Digby
surrounded by many guests, Catholic gentlemen
invited to hunt on Dunsmore, but fully aware
that the meeting had reference to some avenging
blow to be struck in London, though only a few
of them bad been admitted into the whole of
the secreL But these gneats presently perceived
that the main plotters had miscarried, and so,
without standing on the order of their going,
they stole away in the course of the night ; and
when day dawned, Digby, Catesby, Percy, Rook-
wood, and the rest, were left alone, with a few
eervants and retainers. Catesby knew the num-
ber of Catholics living in Wales and the adjoin
ing counties, and he suggested that if they made a
rapid march in that direction they might raise a
formidable insurrection. Theygotagain to their
horaes, rode through Warwick, where they seized
some cavalry hoTses, leaving their own tired
steeds in their place, and then went to Grant's
house at Norbrook, where they were joined by a
few servants, and procured some arms. They
then rode across Warwickshire and Worcester'
shire, to a house belonging to Stephen Littleton,
called Holbeach, on the borders of Stafibrd'<hire,
where they arrived on Thursday night, tbe 7th
of November. On theit way they had called
nponthe Catholics to arm and follow them; "but
not one man," said Sir Evemrd Digby, "came Ut
take our part, though we had expected so many*

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLiND.

[Cim. AMD MlUTAHT.

By this iime the conspiraUirs wen cloaely fol-
lowed hj Sir Richard W&lsh, alieriff of Worc«»-
Ur, attended by many gentlemen of the country
and the whole poue comitatiu. Although the
road waa open towards Wales, they resolved to
stand at bay, and defend themBelves in the house
of Holbeach. If their people had remiuned firm,
they might possibly have repulsed the tamultuary
assault of the sheriff, but these serving-men stole
away during the night. Early on the following
morniDg Stephen Littleton, who had been ad-
mitted into the whole plot, got out of the house,
and fled through fear ; aud Sii' Everard Dighy
went off, in order, as he said, to bring up succour.
Sir Everard had scarcely got out of the house
whfn some damp gunpowder which they were
dryiug before a fire ignited and blew up with a
tremendous explosion. Catesby was burned and
blackened and uearly killed, and two or three of
the others were seriously injured. They now
began to fear that God disapproved of their pro-
ject; and Bookwood and others, "perceiving God
to be against them, prayed before the picture of
our 1^7, and confessed that the act was so
bloody as they desired God to forgive them,"
Robert Winter, filled with horror and affiight,
stole out of the house, and came up with Stephen
Littleton in a wood hard by, and shortly after
his evasion Catesb/s servant, Thomas Bates, es-
caped in the aame manner. About the hour of
noon Sir Richard Walsh surrounded the mansion,
and summoned the rebels to lay down their arms.
A auccesaf ul resistance was now hopeless ; but,
preferring to die where they stood, to suffering
the hori'id death prescribed by the laws, they re-
fused to surrender, and defied their numerous
assailants. Upon this, the sheriff ordered
part of his company to set fire to the house, and
another to make an attack on the gates of the
court-yard. The conspirators, with nothing but
their swords in their hands, presented themselves
as marks to be shot at. Thomas Winter was
presently hit in the right arm and disabled.
"Stand bj me, Tom," cried Catesby, "and we will
die together." And present! j, as they were stand-
ing back to iiack, they were both shot through
the body with two bullets from one musket.
Catesby crawled into the house upon his hands
and knees, and, seizing an image ot the Virgin
which stood it! the vestibule, clasped it to hii
bosom, and expired. Two other merciful shots
dpa|)at«;hed the two brothers, John and Christo-
pher Wright, and another wounded Percy so badly
that he died the next day. Rookwood, who hod
been severely hurt in the morning, by the exph
siou of the powder, was wounded in the body with
a pike, and had his arm broken by a bullet. At
H rush he was made prisoner, and the other men,
wounded and disarmed, were seized within

house. Sir Everard Digby was overtaken near
Dudley by the hue-and-cry, and made fast. Ste-
phen Littleton and Robert Winter were betrayed
several days after by a servant of Mrs. Littleton
of Hagley, in whose house they had been secreted.
Thomas Bates, CaUeby's servant, was arrested in
Staffordshire; Keyea in Warwickahire. They
all carried up to London, and lodged in the
Tower. Tresham, who had never left London,
and who appears to have been confident of bia
safety, was arrested and committed to the
Tower on ^a 12th of November, or four days
after the death or seizure of his associatea at
Holbeach.

Guido Fawkes, in the meanwhile, had been
repeatedly examined, not only by lords-conuuia-
sioners named by the king, but also by the Lord
Chief-justice Popham, Sir Edwaid Coke, and
Sir William Wood, the lieutenant ot the Tower.
No promises, no threats, could shake his firmness,
disturb his self-possession. When urged with
the argument that bis denial of the names of his
companions was useless, because by their flight
they had been sufficiently discovered, he said,
If that be so, it would be superfluous for me to
declare them, seeing by that circumstance they
have named themselves.' He confessed freely to
all his own doing, said he was ready to die, and
rather wished ten thousand deaths than to accuse
Percy or any other. But he was faJd that Percy
and several of his confederates were apprehended,
and he was racked apparently beyond the limits
of mortal endurance. On the 8th of November,
before any violent torture was applied, he signed
his name to a deposition with a bold, firm hand;
but two days after, his signature to a fuller state-
ment, in which he names his accomplices, is in a
faint and trembling band, ja^ed and incomplete,
bearing every appearance of beiug written in
bodily agony. The Christian name (Quido) alone
is completed, and after it there is a scrawl aa if
the pen had fallen from hia hand.' This single

^

kmoatttrta or Qduw Piwku aoou un> ima Toarrat.

incident tells a tale of horror. But it appears
that Fawkes never put the government in pM-
session of a single secret with which they were
not previously acquainted, and that he would,
under no excruciating pain, impeach the Jesuits.
some of whom were suspected, from the begiii-

■ J4rdijia. Cnmiiu

»Google

A.D. 1603—1606.] JAM

uing, of being implicated in the plot TLub hie
extuuiuMB were torbarouB to ao purpoae. Bates,
the MTTiukt of Catesby, wa« less able to go through
the ordeal: he coBfesaed whatever waa wiehed,
and was the first to implicate the Jesuits. Nor
was Tresham much more firm tlian Bates ; for,
though he did not implicate the prieats in the
gunpowder treaaon, he confeaaed that Father
Uarnet and Father Oreenwa; were both privy
and party to a traitorous correspondence carried
on about a year before the death of Elizabeth
with the coun of Spain by Cat^aby and others.
SooD after hie committal to the Tower, this
wretched man, who appears to have been over-
reached by the government he saved, was attacked
by an agonizing dieeooe. In his extremity. of
weaknesH he was allowed the asaistance of a con-
fidential servant and the society of hia wife. On
the 22d of December, at the close approach of
death, he dictated to his servant a statement in
wiiich he most solemnly retracted all that be hod
confessed about Garnet and Greeuway, Thin
paper he signed, and made hia man-aervatit and
a female servant of the Tower put tlieir hands
to it aa witnesses. In the courae of the night he
gave this statement to his wife, charging her to
deliver it with her own hands to Cecil ;' and he
expired abont two o'clock on the following morn-
ing. Catholic writers have ascribed hia death to
foul play at the hands of government. This sus-
picion seems rather groundless, but there are
reasons for believing that soma state secrets re-
specting the diaoovery of the plot were buried in
tlie grave of the miserable man.

On the Iflth of January, 1606, a royal pro-
cLamation was iaaued against Garnet, Greeuway,
and Gerard, all three English Jesuits who had
been lurking in the country for years. The trial
of the surviving chief conspirators conmienced ou
the 2Tth of January, having been delayed nearly
two months, mainly in order to bring in the
priests, and to get possession of the persons of
Baldwin,aJesuit,Owen,aud Sir William Stanley,
then residing in the Flemish dominions of the
Spaniards, who refused to give tiiem up. The
prisoners. Sir Everard Digby, Robert Winter,
Thomas Winter, Ambrose Book wood, John
Grant, Guido Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas
Bates, with the single exception of Digby, who
confessed the indictment, pleaded not guilty; uot,
as they observed, because they denied a full par-
ticipation in the powder plot, but becouse the

indictment contained many things to which they
were strangers. The evidence produced consisted
entirely of the written depositions of the prisoners
and of a servant .of Sir Everard Digby. No
witness was orally sxamined. There was nothing
developed on the trial to connect the conspiracy
with many Eoglish Catholics beyond the actual
plotters. Indeed, the Papists in general regarded
the whole affair with horror, and Sir Everard
Digby pathetically Umented that the project, for
which he luid sacrificed everything he liad in tlie
world, was disapproved by Catholics and priests,
and that the act wliich brought him to bis death
was considered by them to be a great sin. In
general the principal conspirators again denied
that either Garnet or any other Jesuit was aware
of the project of the powder, though several
allowed that they had frei^uent conference both
with Garnet and Greenway. lu extenuation,
they pleaded the sufferings they and their families
and friends had uadei^ne— the violated promises
of the king, who before his accession had assured
them of toleration — their despair of any relief
from the established government — their dread of
still harsher persecution — and their natural de-
xire to re-establish what tiiey considered the
only true church of Christ. They were all con-
demned to die the usual death of ti'oitors, au<l
sentence was executed to the letter — for this was
not an occasion on which the government was
likely to omit an iota of the torturing and bloody
law. Sir Everard Digby, Robert Winter, John
Grant, and Thomas Bates suffered ou the 3UtU
of January: Thomas Winter, Rookwood, Keyes,
and Guido Fawkes— "the Devil of the Vault "^
ou the next day: they all died courageously, re-
penting of their intention, but professing on un-
altered attachment to the Roman church. The
scene chosen for their exit was the wext end of
St. Paul's churchyard.

Before Fawkes and the other conspirutors were
led to the scaffold, the Jesuit Garnet was ou his
way to the Tower, having been discovered hid in
a secret chamber at Hendlip, near Worcester, the
seat of Thomas Abington, who hod mai-ried the
sister of Lord Mounteagle.' The other two Je-
suits, Gerard and Greenway, after many adven-
tures, effected thier esca|>e to the Continent
Garnet, who at some former period had been well
kuown to Cecil, was treated in the Tower with
comparative leniency; and, from an expression of
regret used by a dignitary of the Protestuntuhurch,
who afterwards became a bishop, we may pre-
sume that he was never laid ui)ou the rack. But
his companion Hall, or Oldcom, another Jesuit,

> Tha aiHUng dF OariMt ■

IT Oldcom, bi

I bit biaBd Him. o[

I. Hr. JudiDeJui|i>«ithetull

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil amd Miutart,

who was found in theBamebiding-pUceait Heod-
lip, GarDet's confidential servant Oweu, and «tt-
nther servant called Chambers, appear to have
been tortured without mere;, as also without
effect, for no one of them would confess anything
of importance against Garnet or any other Jesuit

Hnsur Bomt, u It Raid In ISM.— Ftom ■

or priesL Oweu, aiter iiiiderguiiig llie uiiuor
torroenta, in order to escape the rack, with which
he was threateued on the next examination, tore
open his bowels with a blunt knife, which he had
obtained by a stratagem, and died true to his
maater. Whatever was the extent of Garuet's
guilt, or of the moral obliquity which he derived
from the crafty order to which he belonged, he
was indisputably a man of extraordinary leam-
iog and ability: he baffled all the court lawyers
and cunuingest stateamen Id twenty auecesaive
examination a. They could never get an advan-
tage over him, nor drive him into a contradiction
or an admiasion unfavourable to his case.' But
in the congenial atmoaphere of the Tower, a ce*"-
bun craft had attained to the highest perfection;
and there haa scarcely been a device fancied by
romance writers, hut was put into actual opera-
tion within thoM horrible walla. Some of the
most revolting practices of the luquisition may
be traced in this English state prison. Garnet's
keeper of a sudden pretended to be his friend-
to venerat« him as a martyr; and he offered, at
hia own great hazard, to convey any letters the
prisoner might choose to write to hia friends.
Garnet intrusted to him several letters, which

■ O*., In hi. .t-woli m (Hmrt'i UUl. -W b. ™ oo.

h.Tll.1

brtdwatUmaKboUr, b;ut Iwiwd. ud

>E00d

UnCoWt-

nt wholt erf IU> BngUita Jenlt'i uxor \t

it>i. at

IB* tmabtnliHd bii UrJihcxid in Londoo

brnw-

were all earned to the counml, as wer« also the
answers to them; but so cautious waa the Jesuit,
that there was nothing in this correspondence to
weigh against him. Failing in this experiment,
the lieutenant of the Tower removed Hall, or
I Oldcom, to a cell next to that bf bis friend Gai-
□et, and they were both in-
formed by the keeper, who
i-ecommended extreme cau-
tion and secrecy, that, by
opening a concealed door,
they might eaulj converse
together. The temptation
was irresistible, and both the
Jesuits fell into the trap. Ed-
ward Foraet, a man of some
learning, and a magistrate,
and Locheraon, a secretaiy of
Cecil's, who had tried his earn
before at eaves - dropping,
were placed in such a position
between the two cells that
they could overhear nearly
every word the prisoners
uttered ; and as they con-
^^ versed they look notes of all

that was said. Their main
subject was how they should arrange their de-
fence. Garnet said that he must needs confess
that he had beeo at White-Webbs, in Enfield
Chase, with the conspirators, but that he would
maintain that he had not been there since Bar-
tholomew-tide. "And in truth," said he, "I am
well persuaded that I shall wind myself out
of this matter." On the following day the con-
versation was renewed, the eaves- droppers being
at their poet as before. Garnet said several things
which went to connect him with the conspiiators ;
and be told Hall that, at the next visitation of
thecommissioners, they must both "expect either
to go to the rack, or to pass quietly with the rest"
Healao added that he had heard that one James,
orJohiiaon, Aod be«n upon (fit raei for lAr^thowM.
In the third converaalion. Hall, or Oldcora, re-
lated how he had been examined, and what he
had said. Garnet said, " If they examine me
Bnymore,I will nrge them to bring proofs against
me, for they speak of three or four witnesses.'
In a fourth conversation there dropped nothing
of any consequeuoe. But the commissionem
thought that they had already enougli to drive
the matter home. Qamet had hitherto denie<l
all acquaintance with the first stages of the plot:
he and Oldcorn wotb now charged with their own
words; and at first they boldly denied having
uttered them. Oldcom, however, confessed to
their truth on M« radt. Still Garnet held out:
and, when shewed Oldcoro's examination, he said
that tiis friend might accuse himself falsely, but

,v Google

that h« would Dot occnie himself. According to
the Catholic account, he was then led to the rack,
and mftde sondiy ftdDiisrioDS to escape torture;
but, accordiagr to government docomentB, which,
we need hardly uj, are in many cBsentiala open
to doubt, he began to confess from hie inward
ooDvictiou that it would be of no use to persist
in denying a fact, avowed by Oldcorn, and sup-
ported by Forset and Locheraon. After much
Bubtilizing and equivocating, be was driven to
admit that, when Fawkes went over to Flanders,
be had given him a recommendatory letter to his
brother Jesuit Baldwiuj and, finally, that the
design of blowing up tbe PHrliaineiit House with
gunpowder had been revealed to hira, as far back
as the month of July of the preceding year, by
Oreenway, who liad received it in confession from
Catesby, and, as he believed, from Thomas Win-
ter also. But he added that be had earnestly
endeavoured to dissuade Catesby, and desired
Greenway to do the same. He further stated
that Catesby had at one time propounded a qnea-
tion to him, in general t^rms, ss to the lawful
nesa of a design meant to promote the Catholii
religion,' in the execution ot which it would be
necessary to destroy a few Catholic friends tJ>-
gether with a great many heretical enemies. And
he said that, in ignorance of what Catesby's de-
sign really was, he had replied that, "in case the
object was clearly good, and could be effected by
no other means, it might be lawful among many
nocents to destroy some innocents." Oldcom,
who was no longer of any use, was now sent
down to Worcester, with Mr. Abington, the
owuer of the house at Hendlip, and a priest
named Strange, to be tried by a special commis-
Non. Abington, whose sole offence appears to
have been the conceaJinent of the two Jesuits,
received the kin^^a pardon, through his bi-other-
in-law, Lord Mounteagle ; Oldcom and Strange,
together with several other persons, were exe-
cuted.

On the third of March "Henry Garnet, supe-
rior to the Jesuits in England," was put upon
his trial for high treason, before a special com-
mission in Quildball. Coke had again a grand
opportunity for display, and he spoke for some
hours. When the Jesuit replied, he was not per-
mitted BO much space. Coke interrupted him
oontinnally ; the comminiooera on the bench in-
terrupted him; and James, who seems to have
felt a i-espect for his powers of argument and
eloquence, declared that the Jesuit had not fair
play allowed bim. Qamet pleaded that he had
done bis best to prevent the execution of the
powder treason; and that be could not, by the
Ikwa of hia church, reveal any secret which had
been received under the sacred seal of confession.
He carried himself very gravely and temperately,

ES I. 311

and half charmed that immense audience; but,
upon the evidence of tbe deposiCiona obtained iu
the Tower, and the oaths of Forset and Locher-
Bon, a verdict of guilty was returned, and tba
lord chief-justice pronounced the sentence of
banging, drawing, and quartering. During the
whole trial they extracted nothing from the Je-
suit: they bad expected great discoveries, but
they made none.' Instead, therefore, of being
hurried to execution, Garnet was kept six weeks
in prison, during which the greatest efforts were
made to wring further avowals from him, and to
lead him to a declaration of the principles of tbe
society to which be belonged. In the firat pur-
pose they entirely failed, but in the second they
partially succeeded; and i/the declarations eon-
eemiug equivocation were fairly obtained, and
if he expressed bis real feelings, tbe Jesuit cer-
tainly entertained " opinions as inconsistent with
all good goveroment as they were contrary to
sound morality."* It happened, however, rather
unfortunately, that King James, and his minis-
ters, and their predecessors, bad made opinions
nearly allied to those of tlie Jesuit, the fixed
rules of, at least, their political conduct, GUniet
was executed on the 3d of May, and Cecil got
the order of the Garter as a reward for his exer-
tions in the detection of the plot, and liis "con-
stant dealing in matters of religion." Several
other Catholics were put to death in Warwick-
shire and the adjoining counties; some for being
peraonolly concerned, some for harbouring priests
and proclaimed traitors. There were other vic-
tims of aroore elevated rank, but not one of these
was punished capitally. The Earl of Northum-
berland, the kinsman of the traitor Percy, was
seized on the first discovery of the plot, and com-
mitted to the care of tbe Archbishop of Canter-
bury; and, after tbe capture of the conspirators
at Holbeacb, tbe three Catholic lords, Stourton,
Mordaunt, and Montague, were arrested, upon the
ground that they all meant to be absent from
parliament, and therefore must have known of
the gnnfiowder treason. No one of them was
ever put upon a fair trial, but the Star Chamber
arhitrarily condemned them to heavy fines, and
to imprisonment during the king's pleasure. The
Earl of Northumberland was removed to the
Tower, and closely examined many times. He
demanded a public trial; but in tbe month of
they brought him up to the Star Chamber,
and there accused him of having sought to t>e the
head of tbe Papists, and a " promoter of tolera-
tion;" of having admitted Percy, a Catholic, to
t>e a gentleman pensioner, without exacting from
the proper oaths; and of having preferred

> '■InimndUmmsniiUilBgth
r Uw oonfaiilou of tbam that mn
IIiM Ptrrr Id Sir Dtdtff CarUUm.

»Google

372

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[C.y

. iNOMlI-ITABT.

the safety of his money l« the safety of the king.
It is said that James and his n)iniat«rB beheved
that Northumberland waa the pereon to whom
the conspirators had intended to offer the regency

r protectoTsliip; bat n

this ill the Star Chamber. The earl waa sen-
tenced to pay a fine of £30,000, to be deprived of
all his offices, and to be imprisoned in the Tower
for life. Such was the closing scene of the most

was made of i terrible of Enf^lish conspiracies.'

CHAPTER II.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1606—1613

Meeting of partiftment — SeTsrity of the penal statu
to England— Fsllare af Junn'a propowl of ui
HoDH of CoiDRions in bebalf of tlieir privileges
Hiatory of Robert Carr— He becomet chief fa
prodigality and want of Qjonej— Applii

•a sgaititt PapiaCa iaereusd — Titit of tb« King of Denmark
loa between England and Scotland — Remoiutranm of (be
-Jamet'i naual mode of life— Hii attachment to bionrilci—
Ban la— Connection of Jamea with Dutch polilicj — Jameo'i
•uppliea— The application refused— Bold

e king'i arbitrary proondiDga— Jamea obliged to part vitb certain
feudal privileges— Growing jealouiy of the commona— Death of Bancroft, Arcbhiabop of Canterbury— He ia
succeeded by Dr. Abbot— Deitb of Robert C«ai1, Earl of Baliahnry— Account of Lad; Arabella Htuart —
Jealonay entertained of her royal descent — Her private marriage — Her Imprisatinieut in the Tower — She ia
apprehended in attemptiDg to escape— Her melaucboly end — Jamea betakea bimielf to polemical anthorship —
Hit CDutroreny with Voratiua— He bnnii tvo heretica—AuaHi nation of Hsnry IV. of Fnuic«— Btdiert Carr
James' a favourite, obtain* tbe chief direction of affaira—CbanKt«r of Prince Henr;, sonof Jamsa— Hia atndies
and great endowmentj- His laat illneaa and early death — Mairioge of tho Priocesi Eliiabeth, daughter of
Junes, tu the Count Palatine— Progreia of Robert Carr, now Viscount Rocbeater — Hia intrigue with the
Counteaa of Exeei — Sir Thomas Orerhur; oppnsea their derign of marriage — They cause him to be imprinned
in the Tower— He ia seersti)' poisoned — Carr marrisa the Conatees of Essex — Hs is crsatsd Earl of Sonunst.

parliament, which waa to have
m blown into the air on the 5th
November, met for the deapateh
business on the 21st of January.
X. The penal statutes had made
Few mailmen, and, as if the do-
minant party wished to make more, tliey imme-
diately called for an iuereaae of severity. Jamea
tried to moderate the fierceness of the common!*,
by which attempt he put his own orthoiloxy in
■jnestion ; and, as he had chosen this unlucky
moment for opening a matrimonial negotiation
for his son, Prince Henry, with the most Ca-
tholic court of Spain, Uie Puritans began to mur-
mur that he was little better than a Papist liim-
flelf. liawa the most irritating, oppressive, ami
cruel, against the whole body of Catliolim, were
rarried through both houses by overwhelming
majorities; and James, more from fear than from
any other motive, asseiitetl to them. A few of
these laws will give a notion of the spirit that
was ahroail. No Catholic recusant w.th to ap-
T>ear at court, to live in London, or within t«n
miles of London, or to remove on any occasion
more than five miles from his home, without
e»l>eoial license, signed by four magistrates. No
recusant was to practise in surgery, physic, or
law; to act as judge, clerk, or officer, in any
court or corporation, or perform the ofiice of ad-

ministrator, executor, or guardian. In all casea
of marriage where the ceremony was performeit
by a Catholic priest, the husband, Iselng a Ca-
tholic, could have no claim on the property of
the wife, nor the wife, if a Catholic, on that of
the huaband. A new oath of allegiance was de-
visdl, in which was a formal renunciation of
the temporal power of the pope, and of his right
of interfering in the civil affairs of England.
Such Catholics as would take this oath were
liable oiUi/ to the penalties enumerated; but such
as refused the oath were to lie imprisoned for
life, and to forfeit their personal property and
the rents of their lands. It was expected that
most of the Papists would take this oath, which
did not trench on any religions dogma; but it
waa loaded with ofiensive epithets, and though
*ome of the le.iders of the Catholic clergy in
England decided in its favour, the Jesuits con-
demned it, and the pope, Paul V., forbade it iu
a breve, which Blackwall, the archpriest, had tlie

< Juiint. CA^i->al Trim,. The •iBond™liim«o( this wrrt—

in Iha HUM Paper OOoa, Crawn OAm,

»Google

A.t>. 1606—1613.] JAM

conrxge tfi publish to hia congregHtion, though
he himself would have recommended the tAking
of the oath. Blackwall, who was seventj years
old, was aoon lodged iu a prUoo, where he re-
mained till his death,which happened six or seven
yeais after. Dniry, another priest, was hanged,
drawn, and quartered. James fondlj thought
that he could decide the question of the oath
with bia theological pea ; and, with some asais-
tance from his divines, he brought out a tract
entitled, An Apdagg for the Oath of Allegiance.
Parsons, the celebrated Jesuit, and Cardinal Bel-
lanaino, who, according to no favourable judge,'
" had the beet pen of his time for controversy,"
replied to the Apciogg. James rejoined by pub-
lishing what he caJled A Monitory Preface. To
Parsons, he said, the fittest answer would be a
rope. Beltarmino, who had appeared under a
feigned name, was not more gently treated.

James was by this time in great distreas for
money. The commons seemed disposed to vot«
a liberal subsidy, but the bill lay a good while
on their table, and at last they came to a decision
that it should not pass till they had prepared
their list of grieTances. The king, who abhorred
the word grievance, had to digest, as he could,
sixteen long articles; but he evaded the question
of redress, and the commons kept aloof horn the
subsidy, Cecil and the other ministers made
half-prDmises in their master's name; the House
of liorda was wondrously loyal and liberal, but
it was not until the month of May that the
commons voted three snt>sidies and six fifteenths.
While the money question was pending, a report
was spread that the king, who was away hunt-
ing, was assassinated at Caking, in Berkshire,
t<^ther with his three favourites, Philip Her-
bert, Eari of Montgomery, Sir John Bamsay, and
Sir James Hay. There was a great consternsr
tiou, both ia the Parliament House and in the
city, with great weeping and lamentation of old
and young, rich and poor, maids and wives, who
again expected an English St Bartholomew's.
But about three o'clock in the afternoon James
arrived safe and sonnd at Whitehall, and was
heartily greeted by the people. It has been sup-
{tosed that Cecil^perhaps the king himself — was
no stranger to the ori^n of this bruit, which is
supposed to have quickened the generouty of the
commons. Having got the subsidies, James pro-
rogued parliament on the S7th of May to the
18th of November.

In the month of July, James received a visit
from his brother-in-law. Christian IV., King of
Denmark ; and in the round of costly feasts,
hunts, and entertunments, which he gave on
tliis occasion, he foi^ot the commons, Garnet,
the Gunpowder Plot, and all the state matters

VohlL

> SSvio, ">('■

s I. 313

whatsoever. A satirical letter-writer of the time
observes that the parliament had voted the huI>-
sidies very seasonably, so that the court was able
to show off to advantage, and to entertain the
royal Dane with shows, sights, and banquetings,
from mom till eve.' We possess too many cor-
roborative accounts of these entertainments to
doubt that they were gross and indecorous. At
a feast given by Cecil at Theobalds, the two
mightj' princes, James and Christian, got so
drunk that his English majesty was carried to
bed in the arms of his courtiers, and his Danish
majesty mistook bis bed-chamber, and offered
the last of insults to the Countess of Nottingham,
the handsome and spirited wife of the Lord
High-admiral of England. But at the same
great entertainment, James's subjects, ladies as
well as gentlemen of the highest rank, gave
proof that they were capable of following the
example of their sovereign. " Men," says an eye-
witness, " who had beeu shy of good liquor be-
fore, now wallowed in beastly delights; the ladies
abandoned their sobriety, and were seen to roll
about in intoxication."*

The royal Dane, who stayed nearly n month,
was scarcely gone when there arrived another ex-
pensive guest, in the person of Prince Vaudemont,
one of James's kinsmen of the honse of Guise,
who bronght an immense retinue with him. This
led to fresh festivities and hunts, during which
James could find no time to attend to business,
though he now and then could steal a day or two
to give to the orthodox clergy, who were intent
on proving, by Scripture and history, the royal
supremacy, and the grand fact, that in all ages
the authority of kings governed and ruled the
church — doctrines most unpalatable to the Pres-
byterians of Scotland, and tending to disgiiat
them with the project of the union which James
had BO much at heart. At last Vaudemont de-
parted, and on the appointed day, in the month
of November, the parliament met again. The
commons had voted their money, and now tlie
king returned his answer to their grievances, the
greater part of which referred to grants, made to
particular peisons, of the nature of monopolies.
These grants, for the most part, James defended
with arguments ; but in some cases he remitted
them to the consideration of the courts of law.
In the former session James had caused to be
introduced and debated his scheme of a perfect
union between England and Scotland: the subject
was now again taken up with great earnestness,
and Bacon was prepared with a great and states-

Sir /«*« IhrriKgltn. "1 MiU now InguoJ Kothdeclu
I. wba iriU not bUb, tlwl Uh giin|MW<lur fright Is gol ol

d bloH up hinuulf,

■ HiiniiiitloD, t/Hffa At

, Lioogle

3H

HISTORY OF ENni,AND.

D Ml LIT ART.

niniilike K]»ecli in support of the lueasnre. But
tiie two poiintrieii were in no rrapects prepared ;
tlie autipathieB, prejudtces, and hostilities of cen-
turies wer« not to he cured in three ahoit years;
and many recent circumstancea and iudicationa
had tended greatly to iudiapoae men's minds, on
either side the Tweed, to the grand political ex-
lierimcnt, JameH had so openly and eoarBcly
announced his creed of prerogBtiTe tliat alarms
were eicit«i, and people wei-e averse to any
measure that might incre-ixe hiii sovereign power.
We have already mentioned his determined pi-e-
ditection for Epixcopacy ; an<l it was generally
underetood that the state tiuiou would be accom-
panied by a chnreh union, the Scots being made
to conform to the Anglicau establishment, which
they r^nrded, and whicli James himself had at
one time professed to regard, as something little
short of Papistry. The king, moreover, bad dwelt
continually upon tlie great BU|>eriority of the laws
»f England, which the Scots had no inclination
to adopt. Nor in it ever easy to change the lawn
and institutions of a people except by alisoliite
cNinqiiest. The Scots were justly proud of their
hardly contented and preflerve<l independence :
they regnrded with indignation and horror every-
thing which seemed to lix the badge of aubmis-
siou or inferiority upou them. The Snglish, on
the other side, scarcely leaa proud, were avowedly
averse to admitting tlie Scots to a footing of
equality ; and the king's indiscretion, at tite
commencement of his reign, in lavishing En^ish
money, posts, and titles, upon aome Scottish fa-
vourites, had raised a popular clamour that the
country was to be overrun and devoured by their
|>onr and hungry neighbours. At different stages
of the deltates several members of the commons
gave full expression to the most angry and con-
temptuous feeling against James's countrymen.
Sir Christoplier Pigot, member for Buckingham-
shire, expressed his sstunishmeut and horror at
the notion of a union between a rich and fertile
country like England, aud a land like Scotland,
)>nor, barren, and disgraced by natnre^betweeu
rich, frank, and honest men, and a proud, beg-
garly, anil traitorous race. The whole Scottish
nation hotly resented these gross insults, and
threat«aed to take up arms to avenge them.
James, in an agony of alarm, i-ebuked Cecil for
allowing such expressions to pass unnoticed; and
be dechred to his council that the itisidt touched
him as a Scot. Neit he rebuked aud threatened
the commons, who thereupon expelled I'igot,
and even committed him to the Tower. In the
session of lfi('4 the Knglish and Scotch commis-
sioners had ap-eed to the entire abrogation of
all hostile laws )>etweeu the two kingdoms, to
the abolition of Bonier courts and customs, and
til a free intercourse of trade throughout the

king's dominions. James had also, very aoon
aftor his accesuon, both on coins and in pro-
clamations, assumed tlie title of King of Great
Britain; and here, in prudence, he ought to have
stopped, and left the rest to the aalutaiy opent-
tion of time and peaceful intercourse. But he
drove on to his end, and was greatly ennged
with th« commoua when they rejected his pro-
|ioeitiou for the naturali^tion of the aiUe-nati,
or Scots bom before his accession to the English
throne. A decision, however, soon after ob-
tained in the courts of law, extended the rights
of naturalization to all Scots who were pott-mtii,
or bom after the king's accesmon ; m that in the
course of a few years the mass of the Soots would
become natural subjects of the English crown.
The commons did not venture to call iu question
this right of the post-nati, though it was evident
tha( they did not admit it with very good will.-
When urged to go farther they invented all
kinds of difficulties and delays, which called
forth another harsh schooling from the king.
In his speech to the two houses, which had tlie
1 haughtiness but not the dignity of Elizabeth, be
threatened to abandon London, and fix hia red-
dence at York or Berwick ; and he alluded with
bitterness to certain disconrses which bad been
made in the commons' house.'

The commons, who had already learned that
James could bark better than he coidd bite,
would not take thia caMtigatJon in silence. They
made known to him, through the speaker, their
earnest desire that he would listen to no private
reports of their doings, but take his information
of the house's meaning from themselves; that he
would be pleased to allow such members as he
had blamed to clear themselves in his hearing;
and that he would, by some gracious message, let
them know that they might deliver their opinions
in their places without restraint or fear. On the
very next day he civilly replied, through the
speaker, that he wished to preserve their privi-
leges, especially that of libei-ty of speech.' And
yet, a very few days after tliis message, he was in-
terfering agai n , and commenti ng on thei r speeches,
telliug them that they were too much given to the
discussion of matters above their comprehension.
Nay, when they moved the reading of a petition,
which contained strong remonstrances against ec-
clesiastical abuses, and in favour of the deprived
and persecuted Puribu) preachers, the speaker,
according to orders received, told the house that
his majesty reserved these matters to himself,
and would not be pressed thereon. Some mem-
bers cried out that tjiia was an infringement of
tlieir libertjes; but the speaker told them (and
truly enough) that Uiere were many precedenta

1 <KN.M.»Hi' J.„.ni,U.- rari. Hilt : .rfaAaMHladrtaMdcrw.

,v Google

A.D. 1C06— 1C13.]

— tlutt tha hM queen had often reatrtuned the
houH from meddling ia politics of diven kinds.
A motion wu then made for the appointment of
K committee to search for precedents. But here
Jamea sent down a second meeaage, telling the
house that, thoa;^ the petition contained matt«r
wberMf they coold not properly take cogniziuce,
j6t, if they thought good to have it read, he
not against the reading. The commous i
mollified, and the petition was at last "with ge-
neral liking agreed to sleep."

On the 4tb of July, 1607, James prorogued the
parliament till the month of November of the
same year, but, in effect, it did not meet again
till February, 1610. While it waa still sitting,
the month of Hay, 160T, lawleaa aaaemblagea of
men, women, and children were suddenly ob-
serTed in Northamptonshire, Warwifkshire, and
Leiceetershire. The king was greatly alarmed,
and at first thotight that it must be an organized
inaarrection, got up either by the Fapiata or by
the Puritans, who were equally dinatisfied with
his government. But it was nothing of the sort,
but nUher resembled the agricultural riots about
incloanree which happened in the time of Ed-
ward VI., and it was soon and easily put down-
Meanwhile Jamea continued his life of indo-
lence and ease, hnnting a good part of the year,
and lying in bed the greater part of the day when
he waa not so pleasantly engaged. He even went
so far as to say that he wonhl rather return to
ScotUud than be chained for ever to the council-
table. It waa rarely that his subjects could get
access to him in his retreats. When they did,
hia address and demeanour, and appointments,
clashed strangely with the notion of a most royal
and heaven-deacended prince, the image, as he
called himself, of the Godhead. He was dressed
all over in colours green as the grass, with a
little feather in his cap, and a horn instead of a
•word by his side.' His queen, Anne of Den-
mark, was as fond of dancing and masks, fine
dresses, and ooetly entortainmeuts, as he was of
hunting: nor had she, on the whole, much more
personal dignity than her husband. She was
diaaipated, thoughtless, extravagant, and had her
favouritea. But it was the monstrous favourit-
ism of James that withdrew the eyes of all from
hia other follies and the follies of the queen.
When he flrat entered England, the man he most
delighted to honour and enrich was Sir John
Bamsay, who had stabbed the Earl of Oowrie at
the time of the alleged conspiracy, for which he
had been promoted by Jamee to be Viscount
Haddington. As soon as diey were fairly settled
in the land of promise, he received leases of
crown-lands, gifts, and pensions. Haddington had
recently been .£10,000 deep in the merchants'

5S r. 315

books; but this debt was presently [wid off, aud
the Scottish viscount was well matched, being
married, by the king's desire, to the daughter of
the great Earl of Sussex. Towards the end of
James's reign he was created an English peer,
with the title of Earl of Holdemess. Next to
Haddington, the prime favourite was Sir Jameit
Hay, another Scotchmsn, whom we have already
mentioned, and who waa soon created Lord Hay,
and subsequently Viscount Doncaster and Earl
of Carlisle. Places, honoure, gifts, were show-
ered upon this ScottiA Heliogabalus, who, in
the eourae of his very jovial life, "spent above
.£400,000, which, upon a strict computation, he
received from the crown, leaving not a house nor
acre of land to be remembered by."' But nearly
all the Scottish favour^jtes, tike Cai-lisle, and their
master, the king, spent their money as fast as
they could get it; being rapacious, but certainly
not avaricious. Nor had they long the field to
themselves; for James presently chose to himself
minions of English birth, to whom he gave far
more than he ever bestowed on the Scots. The
first of these favourites was Sir Philip Herbert,
brother of the Earl of Pembroke, who waa fre-
sently created Earl of Montgomery, found in a
rich wife, and loaded witli gifts. " The Earl of
Montgomery," says Clarendon, "being a young
man scarce of age at the entrance of King James,
had the good fortune, by the comelitiese of his
person, his skill and indefatigable industry in
hunliog, to be the first who drew the king's eyen

towards him with affection Before the

end of the first or second year he was made
gentleman of the king's bedchamber aud Earl
of Montgomery. . . . He pretended to no other
qualifications than to underatand horaes and
dogs very well ; which hia master loved him
the better for, being at hia first coming into
England very jealous of those who had the re-
putation of great parts." The Viscount Had-
dington, the Scottish favourite, became jealous
of Montgomery, and struck the English f&vou-
with his whip oii a public race-course at
Croydon ; an insult which the English took up
as offered not merely to the spiritless minion,
who had not courage to resent it, but to the whole
nation; "so far as Mr. John Pinchback, though
maimed man, having but the perfect use of two
fingera, rode about with his dagger in his hand,
crying, ' Let us break our fast with them here
and dine with the rest at London.' But Herbert,
not offering to strike again, there waa nothing
ipilt but the reputation of a gentleman."' This
coward's mother, the hi^-minded sister of Sir
Philip Sidney, tore her hair when she heard of
lon'a dishonour. James took the matter into
iwn hands, sent Haddington to the Tower

ry l/Ul 6

,v Google

316

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

) MtLlTART.

for n short time, and then r«eonciled the partiea.
He had a deal of work of the like kind — for the
Scottish aod English courtiers quarrelled iucea-
santly, and Rometimn fought to the death.

Wheu Philip Herbert, Earl of Moutgomery,
Hftw himself supplanted in the king's strange
favoiir by a new comer, he betrayed no resent-
ment, but clung to the new roiaion as to a bosom
friend — a line of conduct which quite charmed
the king, and which secured to Herbert a con-
tinuance of the royal liberality and good-will.
This new favourite, who over-topped all his pre-
decessors, and first put the monstrous folly or
vice of James ia its full and disgusting light,
was Robert Carr, or Ker, of the Border family
of Ferny herst, which had suffered severely in the
cause of the king's mother. It is said that, when
a mere child, Robert Carr had been page to
James. In his yonth he went over to France,
according to the custom, of Scottish gentlemen,
and there acquired many courtly graces and ac-
complishments. He was poor, even beyond the
bounds of Scottish poverty, but "straight-limbed,
well-favoured, strong-shouldered, and smooth-
faced, with some sort of cunning and show of
modestyi"' and he had been taught that personal
beauty, gay dress, and manners, would make
him a fortune at court. He had recently re-
turned from the Continent, and the gloss was
not off his Freneh-cut doublet when he appeared,
in the month of July, 1606, as page or esquire to
the Lord Dingwall, in a. grand tilting-match at
Wertminster. In the course of the chivalrous
entertainment he had to present his lord's shield
to the king. In doing this bis horse fell with
him, or threw him, close to James's feet His
leg was broken, but his fortune was made. The
king, struck with his beauty, and tenderly moved
by his accident, ordered him to be instantly car-
ried into Uaster Rider's house at Cliaring Cross,
sent his own surgeon to attend him, and, as soon
ua the tilting was over—" having little desire to
i)ehold the triumph, but much to have it ended*
—he flew to visit him, and wait upon him in
person; and after, by his daily visiting and moam-
ing over him, taking alt cnre for his speedy re-
covery, he made tiie day-break of his glory ap-
pear."' (^arr, at this time, was scarcely of age,
and as James soon found out that the more scho-
lastic part of bis education bad been sadly ne-
glected, he undertook to teach him Latin himself,
and gave him a lesson every morning.' And
soon he began to give court places and rich pre-
sents— things which Carr coveted more than all

the lAtinity of James's preceptor, Buchanan, or
of Cicero and Horace. On Christmas Eve, 1607,
the new favourite was knighted, and sworn gen-
tleman of tbe bedchamber, which place kept him
constantly about tbe king, who took no care to
conceal his nauseous affection from the court,lean-
ing on his arm, pinching his cheek, smoothing
his raffled garment, and looking in his face even
when directing hia discourse to others. Soon
everybody who hod to oak a favour, to press a
suit, or to demand simple justice, found that the
surest road to success was through the good
graces and protection of Sir Robert Carr. It
was at &rst feared that Carr, as a Scot, would
especially favour his own countrymen; but this
was not tbe case, probably because tbe English
lords and ladies could pay him beat. " He even
appeared to be endeavouring to forget hia native
country, and hia father's house, having none of
note about him but Snglisb. But, above all, was
Sir Thomas Overbury his Pythias."' This close
friendship, which ended in the munier of Over-
bury, commenced with Carr's firet appearance at
court; and it became the custom to bril>e and
flatter Sir Thomas, on account of the influence he
had with his friend. Cecil and Suffolk, who were
rivals, tried hard which should engross him and
make him their monopoly. All this seems to
have inflated Overbury, who was otherwise mo-
derate and cunning, and a man of excellent
parts and accomplishments. But it was not until
after the death of Cecil, iu 1612, that the minion
was allowed to take his flight to the pinnacle of
honour, and tA become a soi t of dictator both ui
court and kingdom.

AD 1608 160ft AH the restof Europe might
despise the personal character
and the timid policy of the English monarch ;
but there was one infant republic obliged, by cir-
cumstances which he had not made, to look to
James with anxiety and awe. This was the
government of Holland and the United Provin-
ces, some of the keys to which he held in the
cautionary towns of Flushing, Brill, and Bam-
mekens. At one moment there was a report
that Jamea wu in treaty with Philip III. for the
aale of those places which the Dutch bad not
been able or willing to redeem with money; and
after concluding hia treaty of peace with Spain,
by whicli he bound himself to be neutral, lie had
permitted troops to be levied in England for tlie
service of the Spaniards and tlie Archduke
Albert, who yet flattered himself with hopes of
reducing the free States. In the end, tlie arch-

nl.

uid chiniifBDiia with hk atUiulwili. anl no •ocmu mx>v«nd

- ■ulainu HIr Anthrtir Waldon. "hon lh« gmt

ihn to » liim. n><l la oO^ U> h<> >hriiHi iu iiioh

'"I think Kma on* thould loich liim EhiIhIi too; for. h

thot tha kins wtt tvned to lii;i ■ mtnlnt. 1«t it

be i> ■ Sootliri. Ud. tiB luith much tiHl of biilb.r Ui>;>U||« "-

rd lii> n»>T«T bj •ptndlDi hU (pihti. AdJ to

M CUK. an ■<*• Uk«. 1« . choM- dit l« bioiKtf

»Google

AD. 1606-1613.] jam:

duke either made or liatened to an overture to
negotiate nepantaly with the Dutch, upua the
basis of their independence, witliout commuai-
cation with James, who wouh) f^n have held
himself as arbitrator, or with any other party.
Wlien a truce was agreed upon with the arch-
duke, the Dutch, in tba month of April, 1607, in-
formed the King of France that thejhad opened
n^^tiatiouB for a definitive peace with Spain,
and invited their ally, Henry, to participate with
them in the treaty. Three months after, the
States oondeacended to give, in a formal manner,
the same intelligence and the same invitation to
the King of England. The vanity of James
rnnat have been hurt, bnt he acceded with alac-
rity, and joined himself with Henry IV., as
mediator and gnaiantee. On the 2Qth of March,
1609, a truce was concluded for twelve years
between Spain and the new republic — a truce
equivalent to a peace. By this treaty the brave
and persevering Hollanders, after a forty yean'
war, obtained from their tyrannical maatera en-
tire independence, li jerty to trade to the IndieH,
and the closing of the ScheldL James got for
himself the acknowledgmentof adebtof ;C618,000,
as the snm total of what was due to the Eoglish
crown ; and the promise of the States to discharge
tiiia debt by annual instalments of ;£60,000 each.
In the meanwhile, and until liquidation, James
waa to retain poasession of Pluahing, Erili, and
Hammekens.'

The gisnd merit — perhaps the greatest of Eli-
zalieth's government — was ita strict order and
economy. This, as we have remarked liefore,
enabled her to maintain her high notions of pre-
rogative, which were, however, on moat public
occasions, coloured over with kind and popular
language, and varnished with dignity and grace,'
But Jamea was extravagant beyond all precedent,
and he allowed the qneen and his children, or the
corrupt and greedy courtiers about them, to
squander great sums. He was always in want
of money. In the third year of his reign he could
neither pay his servants, nor decently supply his
own table. The treasurer. Lord Dorset, was
stopped in the streets hy the servants of the
household, who wanted their wages, and the pur-
veyors refused further au)>plies till they should
be settled with. Upon the death of the £arl
of Dorset, in 1608, the Earl of Salisbury (Cecil)
succeeded to the post of treasurer, stiU retaining
his secretaryship of stale. The Earl of North-
ampton, who became lord privy-seal about the
same time, had consiiierable authority or influ-

> " Your qosan (Elt'iatHUi) did <
fttfoctUn. uid. id guod truth, the &
'•( hu nibJwU' tau anJ nibjKlian,
weU tw, at long lu U luUitUt gold
TiHiflvt^ Nttffa Ant.

' — Lord T. Honmrd to

S I. 317

ence with the king ; bnt Cecil might be regarded
now as prime minister, or sole acting minister
of England. He found the treasury empty, but
fortunately a portion of the subaidies had not yet
been paid in and spent. This money was some-
thing to stand by, and bis fei-tile mind deviacid
other means of raising supplies without consent
of parliament. Monopolies more oppressive than
any th^ had preceded them were established
and bartered; a right of fishery off the coasts of
England and Scotland was sold to the Dutch ; n.
feudal aid of twenty shillings on each kuighl'e
fee was levied by an old law, and duties were
imposed upon the import aud export of goods by
the prerogative alone, without any reference
even to the sanction of parliament. In the latter
conne Dorset had begun before him, by laying
an import duty on Corinth raisins, or currants,
by letters-patent. Bates, a Turkey merchant,
resisted payment He was proceeded agtunst in
the Court of Exchequer, where the barons de^
cided for the crown, and laid down a right of
taxation in the king without parliament, which
waa highly satisfactory to James and liia minis-
ters. With this precedent before him, Cecil
went boldly to work, and imposed duties upton
various kinds of gooils by orders under the great
seal. But all these sources of revenue were not
sufficient to supply James's expenditure, and hu
waa driven by his necessities to call U^ther
again his parliament, which had been prorogued
some thirty months.

The houses began their session
A.D. 1610. ^^ ^jj^ j^j_^ ^j February, when Cecil
represented to the lords, instead of causing it to
be represented to the commons, that tlie king's
necessities were such as to call for an immediate
supply. Neither time nor anything else was
gained by this irregular mode of proceeding, and
the minister was brought to a dead pause by the
murmurs of the commons, who took up the
question of taxation and duty-making. Several
of the members bad sifted the legal authorities,
and had arrived at the conclusion that the de-
cision of the barons of the exchequer in the case
of Bates was illegal, Hakewill and Yelverton
made two elaborate speeches to this effect, and
they were lamely answered by Bacon and Sir
John Davis, who sustained the cause of preroga-
tive. The opposition became resolute and clamor-
ous. James intimated, by a message, that they
must not talk upon such subjects; hut it appears
that they talked louder than ever. He then
called both houses before him at Whitehall, and
delivered to them a long lecture, which was at
once blasphemous and ridiculous. "KingB,"a8id
this unroyal specimen, "are justly called gods,
for that they exercise a manner or reseniblanui^
of Divine power upon eartU;^ for, if you will con-

• Google

818

niSTOBV OF ENOLAND.

[Civil. AND MlUTAItr.

Kiijer Uie attritmtea of QoJ, you hIuUI see how
they agree iii the person of a king. God hiUh
pover to create or destroy — to make or unmake
— ftt hiB pleasure ; to give life c»' tend death ; to
judge all, and to be judged uor accountable to
none; to raise low thingsand to make high things
low at hia pleasure; and to God both soul and
body are due. And the like power hare kings :
' they make and unmake their subjects; they have
power of raiaing and casting down, of life and of
death— judges over all their subjects, and in all
causes, and yet accountubls to nose but God
only. They have power to exalt low things and
abase high things, and make of their subjects
like men of cheas— a pawn to take a bishop or a
knight; and to cry up or down any at their sub-
jects as they do their money. And to the king
IB due both the affection of the soul and the aot^
vice of tite body of his subjects."' In tlieend
he told them that it wax sedition in subjects to
dispute what a king might do in the plenitude
of bis power — that kings were before laws, and
that all laws were granted by them tui matter of
favour to the people. But, notwilhslHiiding tliin
pn»lleliziug of himself with the divinity, tlie
commons would not allow that he had any right
to lay duties upon currants or broad-doth with-
out their consent, and they presented a strong
i-emoustrance against bis inhibitions. They
claimed "aa an imcieut geaeml and undoubted
right of parliamcut, freely to delnte nil mnttera
which do properly concern the subject' They
did not take upon themselves to review the judg-
ment given by the Court of Exchequer, but they
desired to know the ressona whereon that jitdg'
meut was grounded, "especially as it wan gene-
rally ai)prehendetl that the reasons of that judg-
ment extended much farther, even to the utter
ruin of the ancient liberty of this kingdom, and
of the subjects' rights of property in their lauds
and goo<ls."' They told him that the kings of this
realm, with the assent of parliament, make laws
and taxes, and im])Ose duties u|ioii goods and
mercliaiidiBe, but not otherwise : tliat his ma-
jesty's most humble corauioiiH, following the ex-
ample of their aiicestora, and finding that his
majesty, without advice or conRciit of ptirlinment,
had lately, in time of peace, set both greater im-
positions, and far mure in uumber, than any of
his ancestors had everdonein times of war, with
all humility presumed to petition that all iiii|io-
sitiotis set without aaseiit of parliament stioiiUI
be quite aliolislie<l and taken away, and that Iiih
majeflty, in imitatiou of his noble jirogenitors,
would be pleased that a law be mmle during tliis
session of parliament, declunngtliAtallim)>oiiitioiis
or duties set, or to lie set ujxm his people, their

' Klnt Jamai'l Hsrli; Wlniruua'i JViMsnufi; /onr^.i/s.

goods or merehandiiie, save on ly by co
orparliament, are, and efer shall be void.* This
was gaU and wormwood to James; but the Com-
mons did mora than petition; they passed a bill
taking away impositions. This, however, was
rejected by the lords, who were not disposed to
do anything to check the march of absolutism ;
and the bench of bishops were always ready to
find texts in Scripture for the support of the pre-
n^iative. The whole High Church party had by
this time gone farinto the Divine right, and had
adopted the theory that the king's power was of
Ood, and that of tlie parliament only of roan.

Ou coming into the office of lord-treasurer,
Cecil bad found that the king's debts amounted
to ^1,300,000, while his ordinaty expenditure
was cakulated to exceed his revenue by £aifiriO
at least. He had rednced the debt by abont two-
thirds ; but he saw it accumulating afresh. He
roundly propooed a perpetual yearly revenue to
be granted, once for all, by parliament; and, as
the price of this vote, he promised in the king's
name that every grievance should be redressed
and other modes of raising money abandoned.
The commons instantly brought forward a host
of grievances; the minister and courtiers wished
them to vote the money first and complain after-
wards ; but they stuck to their grievances. One
of the most important of these was the ecclesiaa-
tical High Commission Court, a most arbitnry
tribunal, which fined and impiisoued — passed
sentence wititout ajjpeal — constantly interfered
with men's domestic concerns and their civil
rights— and iu its oi-dinary procedure despised
the rules and precautiuna of the common law.
Another gUriug abuse was the king's attempt-
ing to do everything by hii own (U'oclamadon.
James, indeed, might have been called the king
of proclamatioua. The commons told him that
it was the indubitable right of the people of thiH
kingdom not to be made subject to any punish-
ment thnt shall extend to their lives, laudu,
bodies, or goods, other than such as are ordained
by the common law of this land, or tlie statutes
made by their common consent in parliament.
They then complained that it had been attem]*teil
tomakeroyalpi-oclamatioiistaketliojilaceof law;
that proclamations had been of late years mncb
more fre((aent tliaii they hod ever been before,
extending to liberty, pi-operty, inheritances, and
livelihoods of men; some of them tending to all^r
the law; some made shortly after a seesiou of patr-
liament for matter rejected iu tlie same saasiou;
some ordering pnnishmenla to be iollieted before
lawful trial and conviction ; some referring the
punishment of oKeiulers to courts of arbitnu'v
disorelion ; same to support D|ipresinve monopo-
lies, &c. "By reason whereof," ci>iitinue<I the

1

»Google

AD. 1C06— 1613-1 •'■^^^

coTDDionfi, "there is Ageneral fear conceived and
spread nmongit yonr majerty'B people, that pro-
clamAtioDS will, by degrees, grow up and increase
to the strength and nature of laws, whereby not
only that ancient bappineas and freedom will be
mach blemished (if not quite taken away), which
their ancestora have no long enjoj'ed ; but the
wune may also (in process ot time) bring a new
form of arbitrary government upon the realm :
nnd tliia their fear ia the more increased by oc-
casion of certain hooka lately published, which
ascribe a greater power to pi'oclamatioDH than
heretofore had been conceived to belong unto
them ; as alao by the care taken to reduce all
the proclamationa made aince your majesty'a
reign into one yolnme, and to print them in such
form as acta of parliament formerly have been,
and still are used to be, Vhich seemeth to imply
n purpose to give tliem more reputation and more
eatablishmeut tiian heretofore they have had.'
The commona, after ^vinga list of Jamea'a arbi-
trary proclamations, proceeded to complain of the
delay of the courts of law in granting writs of
prohibition and habecu corput, and of the juris-
diction of the council of Wales over the four
bordering ahirea of Gloucester, Worceater, Here-
ford, and Salop, which it was pretended were
included witliin tlieir authority as marchea of
Wales. Their other chief grievances were, the
Duke of Lennox's patent for searching and seal-
ing new drapery, monopolies of wine, licensee
and taiea recently ^t upon all publio-housea,
and a tax or duty upon aea-coal.

The lofty, the firm and moderate tone of this
petition of grievances ought to have warned
■Tames that the spirit of the commons
dergoing a great change, and that whatever had
been their timidity and servility under the house
of Tudor, they would now aim at occupying their
elevated and proper position in the constitution.
But James, though alarmed and in dreadful
wont of their money, clung fast to liia preroga-
tive, and thought to aatiafy them witli civil words
and paltry cgncessiona. With regard to the Court
of High Commission, which probably indiaposed
the minda of a gi'eater number of his subjects
than any other single cause, he would not cede a
line. As te the proclamations, he vouchsafed to
promise that they should never exceed what the
law warranted. The royal licenses to public-
houses he generously agreed to revoke. Bat the
commons, who maintained that he had no right
to lay it on, would not vote him a perpetual re-
venue in exchange for ^is tax upon victuailers,
and there was a pause exceedingly distressing to
the needy king.

There remained certain parts of )iia royal pre'
rogative which the commons had hardly ven-

■ Sjituw' Trxtai: f^iit.

SI 9

tured to dispute; but as the minister spoke of
" retrihution" for "contribution," they came under
These were the matters of wardship,
by knight service, and the old grievance
of purveyance. The commons got the lords to
the several subjects with them in com-
mittees of conference, and Cecil showed a will-
ingness to Ijargain for the surrenderof these feu-
revenue in exchange for a fixed
annual sum. But it was soon found that James,
though willing to give up wardahip and purvey-
raa exceedingly reluctant to port with
by knight service. Still, however, the
thought the coneeasiotts he was willing
to make well worth the purchasing. Tt remuned
fix the price. James asked £300,000 per an-
mas a full composition for abolishing the right
of wardship, and for taking awayall purveyance,
I some other conceaaiona.* This was thought
dear, and, after a good deal of haggling,
the king reduced it to jC2SO,000 per annum.
The commoca, under the threat of a dissolu-
iMide up to ;e200,000, and the court gUdly
closed with them at that price. But parliament
had to guard itself against th:! prerogative, which
had l)een held up as beyond the control of sta-
tute ; and they had also to devise by what means
the £200/X)0 per annum should be levied. They
were resolved to be slow and cantious; their
session had been already prolonged to the mid-
dle of July, and it was therefore agreed that
they should vote something to meet the king's
immediate exigencies, and resume the subject
after prorogation. All that the commons voted
was an aid of one subsidy and one tenth; upon
which they were prorogued to the month of Oc-
tober. When they met again, James was aston-
ished and irritated to find that the commons
were in a less complying humour than before.
He wanted to concede less than he had pro-
mised : they insisted npon having more tlian
they had bargained for. During the recess they
liad reflected seriously on the growing extrava-
gance of the king and the rapacity of his cour-
tiers. They suspected that the king would not
keep his part of the bargain ; they saw that no
redress was to be expected as to the tyranny of
the ecclesiastical courts — that illegal customs
were still exacted at the ont-porta— that procla-
mations were te have the force of acts of parlia-
ment. In this frame of mind (and there was a
la:^ psrly that had brooded with horror or dis-
gust over Jameifs blasphemous boantinga) they
declared their reluctance te voting the .£200,000
per annum without a twtter assurance of an equi-
valent in substantial reforms. James summoned
them to a conference; and about thirty members

if [ntartfiinim In (b*

• Google

320

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[C.V

a MiUTART.

waited upon liiamajestj' at Whitehall. The king
deaired them to make a direct answer to some
questions wliieli he should put to them. The
first was, Whether they thought he was really in
want of money, as his treasurer and chancellor
of the eiohequer had informed them) "Whereto,
when Sir Francis Biicon had begun to anewer in
a more extravagant style than his majesty did
delight to hear, he picked out Sir Henry Neville,
commanding Aim to answer, according to hiaoon-
science. Thereupon Sir Henry Neville did di-
rectly answer, that he thought his majesty was
in want. 'Then,' said the king,' tell me whether it
l«longeth to you, that are my subjects, to relieve
me or not.' ' To this," quoth Sir Harry, ' I must
answer with a distinction ; where your majesty's
expense groweth by the commonwealth, we are
bound to maintain it ; otherwise not.' And so,
coDtiouing his speecli, he gaveanote, that in this
one parliament they had already given four sub-
sidies and seven fifteenths, which is more than
ever was given by any parliament, at any time,
upon any occasion; and yet, withal, they had no
relief of their grievances. Then was his majesty
instant to have him declare what tlieir gnevan-
ces were. ' To all their grievances," said Sir
Harry, ' 1 am not privy, but of those that have
come to my knowledge I will make recital.' And
HO b^pin to say that, in matter of justice, they
could not have an equal proceeding (aiming, per-
hf^w,at his majesty's prerogative, nullum (empiu
oceurret regi;) and then, falling upon the juris-
diction of the niarcheit of Wales, Sir Herbert
Croft took the word out of his mouth; other-
wise it was thought Sir Harry, being charged
upon his conscience, would have delivered
judgment upon all, in what respect soever it might
l)e taken."'

James now prorogued the parliament for nine
weeks, a time which, by his orders, was employed
liy the court party in " dealing every one with
Ilia friends and acquaintance in the house, to
work tliem to some better reaaon." But the
commona would not be so wrought upon; they
were resolute not to replenish "the royal cis-
tern" without a guarantee; and this made the
king determine that they should not meet again
lo question his prerogative without Ailing his
exchequer.' " He dissolved the parliament by
proclamation.*'

The disHolution took place on the !)th of Feb-
ruary, ICtll, not a single act having been passed
in the late seasion. lu the preceding month uf
November, while the king was smarting under
his diH:ip|N>intments and reviling all parliamenta,
the primate Bancroft departed this life, as much
n]>|iliiiided by the High ('liiireli iwrtv as he vn»

condemned by the Puritans and all classes of
Diaseutets. The orthodox Clarendon afterwards
rieclared that " his death was never enough to be
lamented " — that he " understood the Church ex-
cellently, and bad almost rescued it out of the
hands of the Calvinian party, and very much
subdued the unruly spirit of the n on -conform istM
by and after the conference at Hampton Court*^
During the stormy debates of these last sessions,
Bancroft had done his best to defend his Chureh
from the reformers, and to encourage the king in
his prerogative course. To the surprise of most
people who were unacquainted witi certain aer-
both secret and public, which he had ren-
dered to the king in a recent visit to Scotland,
Doctor George Abbot, only eighteen months a
bishop, was now promoted to the primacy. Ab-
bot, instead of being a High Churchman, like
Bancroft, was strongly imbued with Presbyterian
or Calvinistic principles, and disposed, not merely
to tolerate, hut to patronize the Puritan preachers.
In the words of Clarendon, who takes the least
favourable view of his character, and who is dis-
posed to attribute the growth of Puritanism and
disafreclion to his conduct as head of the Angli-
can church under James, Abbot " conaidere<l
Christian religion no otherwise than as it ali-
horred and reviled Popery, and valued those men
roost who did that the most furiously. For the
strict observation of the discipline of the Church,
or the conformity to the articles or canons es-
tablished, lie made little inquiry and took les.-<
care; aild having himaeif made a very little pro-
gress in the ancient and solid study of divinity,
he adhered only to the doctrine of Calvin, and
for his sake did not think so ill of that discijiline
as he ought to have done."* In this way the
Cliurch became divided against itself; but the in-
tolerance of Clinrchmen in general contimu-d
much the same, or, if there were a difTereuee, it
was seen in an increased hostility Ui Piijiists,
arising out of the more ardent zeal of the Od-

Perhapa they have somewhat overrated the

delicate sensitiveness of his mind, or overtookeii
the diseased, crazy state of his body ' (and he wna
siity-twoor aixty-three years olJ when he diell;
but historians have jiretty generally altrilmted
the death of Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, to
the mortifications he e»|)erienccd in this porlia-
inent, end to the pecuniary embarrBsaments of
the government which were consequent on the
lirmneHs of the commons. Though his own cof-
fers were well filleil, the treasury wai empty, anil
he [irohnbly entertained no very sanguine hoj*

Wilm, Lift a

• llUlorf lif Uu Crul SiMlia
! • Ibid,

I WMklf ouiutltutioii.

,v Google

F c&res and
His death

i.D. 1606-1613]

of repleoishing it by the aale of crown lands and
the raising of Io&hb in tlie different counties bj
■ending privy Beals, which latter exercise of the
prerogative was put in force vith a trembling
hand, leat " that oacred seal should be refused by
tht detperatt hardneu of th« pryudtced peopU."
Whatever was the cftnae, the miiiist«r fell into a
languid, hopeless state, and retired from business
to drink tJie waters at Bath. He derived no
benefit from the healing springs, and, on the 24th
of Maj, 1613, he died, worn ont and wretched,
nt Marlborough, on bis way back to the court
Tedious aufierings had obliterated the charms of
rank and honours, princely mansions, and wide
estates, an enormous wealth, and a policy and
ambition which had triumphed over many a for-
midable rival. In bis last moments he said to
Sir Walter Cope, " Ease and pleas
hear of death; but my life, full
miseries, desireth to be dissolved,
was certainly not less welcome to the great
of the nation; but, in the worse that followed,
people affectionately remembered the bad rule of
this remarkable sou of a most remarkable father.
Though heartless and perfidions, Cecil had abili-
ties of the highest order; and though subaervient
and ready to erect James into an absolute mon-
arch rather than lose favour and office by thwart-
ing that prince's vehement inclinations, he liad a
sense of national dignity, and a system of foreign
policy which would have saved England from
degradation. The ministers who succeeded Iiiin
had all his baseness and villsioy with none of his
gen ins.

Before Cecil found peace in his grave, the fate
of an interesting victim, whose adventures fur-
nish one of the moat touching episodes in our
history, had been sealed by a barbarous hand.
The Lady Arabella Sttiart, whose descent was a
crime never to be forgiven, had been kept chiefly
about court ever since the trial of BaLeigb and
Cobham. In the disorderlyaud tasteless revelry
of the court she had continued to cultivate a taste
for el^ant Uterature, not wholly neglecting the
study of divinity, which James seems to have
made fashionable with both sexes, and nearly all
classes of his subjects. It was her avowed pre-
ference of a single life that somewhat disarmed
the dangerous jealousy of Elizabeth, though even
in that queen's reign her condition was a very
unhappy one. Jamee, at one time, when he had
neither wife nor children of his own, asked the
band of the Ijidy Arabella for his favourite
Esme Stuart, Duke of Lennox, who was the
lady's eonain. Elizabeth not only forbade this
marriage, but she also imfmaoned Arabella, nung
veiy sharp and insulting language against Jamee
for his having dared to propose such a match.
On the death of Elizabeth, one of CeciTs first

TOL. II.

ES L 321

cares was, as we have seen, to secure the person
of the lady; and when James was safely seated
on the throne, having now children, he seems to
have settled in hie own mind that she should
never be allowed to marry. In the following
year a great ambassador came from the King of
Poland, whose chief errand was to demand her
in marriage for his master; and at the very same
moment there were indirect proposals made for
Count Maurice, who claimed to be Duke of
Queldres. " But," says the courtly reporter of
the latter news, " my I^y Arabella spends her
time in lecture, reading, hearing of service, and
preaching. . . . She will not hear of marriage."'
The pension James allowed her for her support
was very irregularly paid; and it should appear
that she was frequently reduced to very great
distress for want of money. She was also ex-
posed to the persecutions of her aunt, the Conu-
tesB of Shrewsbury, a violent and vulgar woman,
who appears to have been placed over her as a
sortof duenna. Jamesthought it business worthy
of him to settle these womanly quarrels; and, in
1608, he did something more generous, for he
gave Arabella a cupboard of plate worth more
than £200 for a New Year's gift, and 1000 marks
to pay her debts, besides some yearly addition to
her maintenance.* Shortly after tbia, at some
court festival, she renewed her acquaintance,
which had begun in childhood, with William
Seymour, son of Lord Beauchamp and grandson
of the Earl of Hersford. If there had not been
a tender affection before (and it is probable that
there had been, and of an old standing), it now
sprung up rapid and uncontrollable. In Febru-
ary, 1610, an amingement of marriage between
them was detected. James was alarmed in the
extreme. The two lovers were summoned before
the privy conndl. There, Seymour was repri-
manded for daring to ally liimself with the royal
blood, and they were both forbidden, on their al-
legiance, to contract marriage without the king's
permission. To escape the penalty of imprison-
ment, they promised obedience; but, in the fol-
lowing month of July, it was discovered that
they were privately married. Instantly James
issued his mandate, and Arabella was com-
mitted to the custody of Sir Thomas Parry, at
lAmbeth ; her husband to the Tower. This,
their first confinement, was not rigorous; the
lady was allowed to walk in a garden, and Sey-
mour, who probably purchased the indulgence
from his keepers, met her there, and io her own
chamber. She also got letters conveyed to the
queen, who interfered in her favour. But one
morning she received the dismal news that she
most remove forthwith tolhirhnm. She refused
to qnit her chamber; but the ofBcera carried her

,v Google

322

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CmL A

> MUJTABT,

in her bed to the wat«r-«ide, forced her, shriek'
lag, into a. boat, and rowed her up the river.
Her agitation and distrem of mind brought on s
fever, and, by the time she reaohed Bamet, a
physician declared that her life would be in
ger if Bhe were forced to travel farther. The
doctor waited apon the king with this iDt«lli-
gence. James observed, very sapiently, that it
was enough to make any sotind man sick to b
carried in a bed in the manner she was. But hi
resolution was fixed that she should proceed to
Durham, if he were king. Bat he soon relaxed
his severity, and granted her permiBsiou to re-
main for a month at Highgato for the recoveiy
of her health. At Hlghgate she was lodged ii
gentleman's house and closely watched i yet
the very day (the 3d of June, 1611) that the
Bishop of Durham, whoee guest or prisoner she
was to be, proceeded northward to prepare her
lodging, she effected her escape, being assisted
by two friends, who were in correspondence with
her husband in the Tower. " DiBgaieing herself
by drawing a great pair of French-fashiMied hose
AVer her petticoats, putting on a man's doublet,
a man-like peruke, with long locks over her hair,
a black hat, black cloak, russet booU with red
tops, and a rapier by her side, she walked forth,
between three and four of the clock, with Hark-
ham. After they bad gone a-foot a mile and a
half to a sorry inn, where Crompton attended
with horses, she grew very sick and faint, so as
the ostler that held the stirrup said, that the
gentleman would hardly hold out to london;
yet, being set on a good gelding, astride, in an un-
wonted fashion, the stirring of the horse brought
blood enough into her face; and so she rid on
towards Blackwall." There she found boats and
attendants, who rowed her down the river to
Oravesend, where a E^nch bark lay at hand,
i«ady to receive her. She expected to find her
husband on board; but though Beymour had
stolen out of the Tower in the disguise of a phy-
sician, be had not yet reached the vessel. After
waiting tor a short time, the French captain,

who knew the serionsnass of the adveature, be-
came alarmed, and, in spite of the entreaties of
the lady, he hoisted all sail and put to sea. When
Seymour reached the spot, he found his wife was
gone; but he got on board a collier, the captain
of which agreed to land him on the coast of
Flanders for £40. Ueanwhlle the inteUigenoe of
Arabella's escape from Hij^igate had reached the
palace. There, in an instant, all was alarm,
hurry, and confnaion, as if a new Gunpowder Plot
had been discovered. Couriers were despatched
in all directions, with orders to haste for their
lives. Ships and boaU were hurried down the
Thames as if a new Armada were in the Chan-
nel. The alarm became the greater when, on
despatching a messenger to the lieutenant of the
Tower, it was learned that hit prisoner also had
escaped. Seymour got safe to shore, and was twi
tent back; the poor Lady Arabella was leas for-
tunate, being overtaken by a " pink royal," when
about midway across the Channel. The French-
man stood a sharp but short action; and when
he lowered his flag she waa seized, carried back
to the Thames, and then shut up in the Tower.
Her heart was breaking, yet ahe said ehe cared
not for captivi^ if her husband was safe. The
advocacy of the queen, her own eloquent appeala,
were all thrown away on James; ahe never re-
covered her liberty, and grief and despair made
a wreck of her brilliant intellect. She died with-
the walls of the Tower, and in a pitiable state
of insanity, on the 27th of September, 16Ifi.'
James, who is described as dividing faia time
itween his inkstand, bis bottle, and his hunt-
ing, again took np the pen of controversy in 161 1.
As he was out " in pursuit of hares,* a book
written by the Dutch divine, Conrad Vwstius,
treating of the nature and attributes of the
Divinity, was brought to him. He instantly
left off hunting, and began reading -and with so
critical an eye, that within an hour he detected
and postillated a long list of what he called
damnable heresies.' With not leas aotivi^ he
e to Winwood, his ambassador in the Low

a, f^Hrt tif Xing Jaih

u(, io.i Wluwosd, KemarieU.
o Sir Amytt PawM. In
daanlbliis ui Istarrlair wlUi chkh tw bid b«B honmnd t>r
Uh king, gl>« an (diiilnUg Ida* of Jaiset'* muf odd quUUs.

I attopdvila wul bowodfl mr

uila u to mj LajnjDga, ii

lut 1 thoujlit«piiifl wit wumadv at; uid wboB
11 did ban b«oon» T Wheth« > kfnss iliQuId n>* b* Iho bM

i» mantrto ; ud It IbU luds did not tauna^mm
ffoodfl DpLnioi ot hiM leznjuga uad food wtadom I HIb mi^^to

I* f^ m; opLidon touoblugfl tb* powvr of Bitui*
on miHtrof wluhonft, 1 1'

UdM w

■iUi

,v Google

A.D. 1606—1613.] JAl

ConntrieB, commanding him to accuae Tontiua,
before ths States, of hereaj and infidelity, and
to signify to the Statu his utter detestation of
thoM dimes, and of all by whom they were to-
lentad. The HoUanden, who had receatlj
elected tbia heremarcb to the i»«feaBOTahip of
divini^ at Leyden, vaciuit by the d«ath of Ar-
minias, were not inclined to givo ear to this
remonstrance from a foreign prince, and they
intimated as mnch in a reepectfal tone. There-
upon James, " plying bia inkatond again," sent
them an admonitttm in hia own hand'writing.
Annming the Ume of a Protestant pope, having
anthority in spiritnala over other conntriee than
hia own, be bade them remember that the King
of England was the Defender of the F^tb, and
that it would be in bia competency, in union
with otber foreign churches, to " eztingniah and
remand to hell these abominable heresies.' He
told tbem that this wretched Toratins deserved
to be burned alive, aa mnch as any heretic that
bad ever anfiiered. To all this the Hollanders
returned a very cool and a. very evasive answer.
Then James entered a public protest against the
heresies of Totstins, and informed the States
that tbey most either give up their divinity pro-
feasor, or forfeit the friendship of the King of
England. An^bishop Abbotapplandedthekiug,
and urged him to adopt violent measnres ; and
Winwood, the ambassador, who was equally
icsdons, thnndered threats in the ears of the
Datch: but stjll the Stat«s refosed to displace
Yorvtina till he should be heard in his own de-
fence. Jamea put forth a short work, in IVench,
of bis own compositioD, entitled, A Deelaratiim
againa Vorttivt.^ Bnt, after all, he would have
been defeated in this warfore, if the HoUaudera
bad not been divided aa to what was orthodoiy
and what beterodosy. A powerful sect and
party, called the Oomarists,' hated Toretios as
much aa James, and Abbot and Winwood, hated
him, and, in the end, the divinity piofeaaor was
sxpelled from Leyden to wander about in poverty

ES I. 323

and obscurity. During six or seven years be
was obliged to conceal himself from his intolerant
opponents in Tergau; and at the end of that
period he whs driven out of Holland, the synod
of Dort having given a definitive judgment
against him, and the States having sentenced
him to perpetual banishment At this said
synod, which was held in 1619, the deputies from
the dei^ of England and Scotland were the
principal promoters of the proscription of Tors-
tiuB, which was followed by the barbai-ous exile
of 700 famUiea who entertained his tenets. Dur-
ing two yean the expelled professor disappeared
ftom the world, being obliged to hide himself in
very secret placM; for there were many men
who imagined that it would be doing a good
deed to murder him. At last, the Duke of Hol-
st«in offered him and the exiled families a se-
cure asylum. He arrived at this haven of rest
in the month of June, 16SS, but he soon quitted
it for a surer and more lasting one — dying in
themonthuf Septemberof thesameyear. Jamea
was prouder of this victory than he would have
been of winning battles like Crecy and Azin-
court. Unfortunately the controversy sharpened
his temper; and, aa if to give the Dutch an ex-
ample, he relighted the fires of Smithfield, being
the last English sovereign to sign the writ th
hceretico comburendo. Bartholomew Legate, who
is described aa an obstinate Arian heretic, waa
apprehended and ezamiaed by the king and
some of the bishops, and then committed to
Newgate. After lying a considerable time in
prison be was tried before the Conaiatory Court,
which passed sentence upon him, aa contumacious
and obdurate, and delivered him over to the
secular arm, to be burned ; and he was bumod
accordingly in Smithfield, on the 18th of tlarch,
161S. On the llth of April following, which
was Easter £ve, Edward Wigbtman, convicted
of heresy of a very multiform character, waa
bnmed at Lichfield.* A third victim was ready
for the flames; but it was found, notwithstand-

■nd^tfl woman thuothanT 1 did not nfriin* tenn & Borre/
]«ta aitd aroi Bids (natwitluludliig lo whom it vu aiid] tiwt
nvanUoght bsnof m Botptu*. whan It k told that 'tlM
duTilwilkMliiiidTTpliioM.' Hla nwjwtto nwmmrwplwuidii

it DmrlKiD naClin'. Hli hl(hi«
tfavUtUllla In SmtlBid btrftmltdld ivl|r
iMfpn, biint, ■• ha mid, ipokan of In Hsnt* by that whoM
pnw of il^l* ptMintoda to tt

~ h» an thli gUta, «od iKida

aoDlaa hnrto. Ws nart dia.

oo™d.™«.l»t™nl»lM..»

anatInwU..h<aald.Now.

■UH KrU, 4 I hen Dilad

Into jam. I pnri jon do nu jnitloa In jour npoit ; ind in

pdnt™ « 1 miT (tad j™ l«k. ud

Ua wbloh alooda uoondi. . .

I dJd fOigM to loll UiM hii mija

mj opinion of Ui» n«w wnda lot*

mo, and -Id. It woud, by lU

ina, A that no laan»d> mm

cngtiC to taMa it, and wlab*d> It fcrblddan."— Sic Juw Nidul'a

LaUn. I>itt.i, and EngUiiL

1 AAar Oonunu, prot^or at La^on, tba <U)iaf opponmt ot

AlBlnlD. In th. diapnla »b»ul tH

dacnnof Oodudthaaffl.

«>7 0f((».

' n abonld aton UuU La(ita w

bnt I b*d Bot brthv wlU

d tli&t WlgbtuuD waa cjued ; toi, ^

»Google

S24

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

a UiuuBT.

ing the overflowing bigotry of many classes, that
the niBBs of the nalioD could uo longer look npon
such executions with any other feelings than
those of horror and disgust The lawyera began
to question whether the proceedings were strictly
legal, and the bishops to donbt whether they
were useful to their church. "The king accord-
ingly preferred that heretics hereafter should
silently and privately waste themselves away in
prison.'' In other words, men were exposed to
a slower and more cruel martyrdom ; but there
was no more burning in England.

Some time before these events Henry IV. of
FYance had fallen beneath the knife of an as-
aaaaa. On the ]4th of May, 1610, as he waa on
his way U> the areenal, he was stabbed in a street
of Paris, by Francia Bsvaillac, a young fanatic
friar of the order of the Jacobins.' An opinion
previuled, or is said to have prevailed, among the
French populace, that the king, who hod allied
himself with Protestants and heretics, was going
to wage war against the pope; and attempts were
made at the time, and long afterwards, to connect
the regicide with the court of Bome, with the court
of Spain, with the Jesnits; buttbemuTderer,even
on the rack, mtuntained that he had had no ac-
complices or instigators whatever,and that he had
been carried to do the deed only by an instinct or
impulse, which he could neither control nor ex-
pbin. The truth appears to be, that the monk
was mad, and unconnected with any party, either
relif^ous or political : but this did not save him
from a horrible death, nor prevent James from
persecuting more sharply the English Catholics.
In all thia, however, James had the full consent
of his parliament, which was then mtting, and
which would readily have carried him to greater
extremities. In Scotland, perhaps, more tlxm
in England, people were convinced that Henry
had fallen a sacrifice to the pope and the Jesuits,
and that an attempt would be made on the sacred
person of James. The Scottish privy council
addressed a long letter to their most "gracions
and dread sovereign,' beseeching him (most un-
necessarily) to have a care of himself, and re*
commending him to call np a body-guard of na-
tive Soota, that might attend him in all his
buntings and game*.

By the death of Henry IV. the crown of f^uce
fell to hia son, Louis XIII. — a weak boy, who
never became a man in intellect or strength of
character. During hia minority the post of re-
gent waa occupied by his mother, Mary de' Me-
dici, who soon undid the good which her husband

u thi Holf Spirit pn-

donjiiif th* Trjnitj-, lu mi
milad IsBcrlptua.

• Thn* tlmaa iMttin thii &U1 blow of IUtiIUh, Uw tU* oI
ffi — r'° *— "-TmittnriiliilVrnMnJrn- t^ ttim Butltn,
la INS— br ^Bn OUd, In IKT— ud 17 Jmh da llila, >

had done to the French people, without reform-
ing the morals of the court It waa her genwal
system to punue a course of politics directly
contrary to that of Henry, who had been a moat
unfaithful husband ; but, notwithetandiug thia
system, she adhered to the Protestant league,
and sent 10,000 men to join 4000 English who
had landed on the Continent, under the com-
mand of Sir Edward Cecil. These allies joined
the Dutch and Germans under the commanda ctf
the Prince of Orange and the Duke of Anhalt
The Austrians were presently driven out of Ju-
liers, of which they had taken forcible posseMion
on the death of the Protestant prince, John,
Duke of Cleves, Juliers, and Berg ; and as the
emperor was not in a condition to renew the
struggle, and aa James and Mary de' Medici were
most anxious for peace, the tranquillity of Europe
was not very seriously disturbed.

While these events were passing abroad and
at home, Robert Carr, the handsome Scotchman,
was eclipsing every competitor in the Engliali
court. He waa created Viscount Bocbester in
the month of March, 1611; waa made a member
of the privy council in April, 161S ; and he re-
ceived also from hia lavish master the order of
the Garter. Upon the death of the Earl of Salis-
bury (Cecil) he became lord-cbamberlaio, that post
being given up to him by the Earl of Suffolk,
who succeeded Cecil as Icird-treaanrer. And aa
the post of secretary remained vacant for a con-
siderable time, the favourite did the duties of
that office by means of Sir Thomas Overbury,
whose abilities and experience made up in part
for his own deficiencies. Carr, Viscount Ro-
chester, became in effect prime minister of Eng-
land as much as Cecil had been, though nominally
he held no ministerial situation; and his power
and his influence were not decreased when the
king nominated Sir Ralph Winwood and Sir
Thomas lake to be joint secretaries of state ; for
these men were not high and mighty enough to
oppose the wishes of the favourite. But Sir
Thomas Overbury, who on several accounta waa
distasteful to the king, became an object of hia
jealousy and hatred when James saw the entire
confidence and affection which his minion re-
posed in him.

Prince Henry, the heir to the crown, had now
entered his eighteenth year, and had been for
some time the idol of the people. If his cha-
racter is fairly described by his contemporaries,
he was entitled to this admiration ; but we can-
not but remember the universal practice of con-
trasting the heir-apparent with the actual occu-
pant of thethiDnej and this prince's untimely
end may very well have produced some of that
exaggeration which arisea out of tendemew and
hopeless n^ret In penon, in mMmers, and iu

,v Google

A.E>. 1606—1613.] JAM

chaTActer, he differed most widelj from hia father.
He was comelj, well-maxle, graceful, frank, brave,
and active. Henry V. and Edward the Black
Prince were proposed to him as modela ; and it
was the example of ^ose warlike princes that
he determined to follow. Though not absolutely
averse to learning, spending two or three hours
a-daj in his study, he loved arms better than
books. He employed a great part of his time in
martial exercises, in handling the pike, throwing
the bar, shooting with the bow, vaulting, and

3S I. 325

trastod with his pareut Jame« could never be
quiet in church time, having always an eager-
ne^ to be preaching himself: Henry waa a
most attentive bearer of sermons, and, instead
of disputing with them, was wout to reward
the preachera~no uncertain road to popularity.
Jamea was a most profane swearer, Henry swore
not at all ; and he had boiea kept at his three
houses — at St James's, Richmond, and Nonsuch
— to receive the fines on protaiie swearing which
he ordered to be strictly levied among his atten-
dants. The money thus collected was given

to the poor " His court was more

frequented than the king's, and by another
sort of men ; so the king was heard to say.
Wilt he bury me alivel* And the High
Church favourities taxed him with being a
patriot and a friend to the Puritana. To the
last-named class, indeed, he appeared as a ruler
promised in the prophecies of Scripture — as
one that wonld complete the reformation of the
church of Christ.

PUMCi BnitT, Bod of Juut I.— From DnjtoD'i PolfolblDn,

riding. He was a particular lover of horses, and
what bebnged to them, bnt not fond of hunting
like his father; and, when he engaged in it, it
WHS rather for the pleasure of galloping his gal-
lant steeds than for any which the dogs afforded
him. He studied fortification, and at a very
early age turned hia attention to ships and sea
matters. Sir Walter Baleigh, the brave and the
scientific soldier and sailor, who was still Ian-
goishing in the Tower, became an object of his
enthusiastic admiration; and ha was often heard
to say that no other king but his father would
keep sncb a bird in anch a cage. All this was
when lie was a mere child. It is remarked by
an old writer, that he was too soon a man to be
long-lived. Aa he grew up he practised tilting,
chaiging on horseback, and firing artillery. He
cansed new pieces of ordnance to be cast, with
which he learned to shoot at a mark. In other
particulars Prince Henry was strikingly con-

was a rhyme common in the months of the
people, among whom the spirit of dissent gained
strength in proportion to the efibrts made to
force them to conformity. Yet, when the usual
age for marrying princes arrived, his father,
who was less particular about any other point
than about a high alliance, wished to marry
Henry to a Catholic wife — a match which
would have cost him tbe favour of the Puri-
tans. A negotiation with Spain for the hand
of the eldest infanta was carried on for years ;
aod when it grew langnid or hopeless, James
listened to an overture from Mary de' Medici,
the Queen-regent of France, who was anxious
for a marriage between Prince Henry and
Uadame Christine, second daughter of IVancei
At the same time James was tempted by en
offer of a daughter of the Duke of Florence, with
millions of crowns for her dower ; and shortly
after aa ambassador-extniordinary arrived from
Savoy, to solicit the hand of James's daughter
Elizabeth for the heir of that dukedom, and to
offer that of his sister to Prince Henry. This
double commission led to no results, though James
was willing to bestow his daughter on the Ca-
tholic Savoyard. To hia father Henry was all
submission, protesting his readiness to marry
whomsoever he might choose for him;' but to

wnta to Uu kins ™ "» '^tb «f t>u>' Otobo- In whioh ha dis
(Uw orisliiil ol Bblah Bli WIUluo Cook ihomd mn), dialm
that, If hli lUhM muilad him Uut wmj. It might bg wtth tb

»Google

326

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

[CiTIL AUD MlLrTABT.

other penoni he held a. diOerent language: and
the Pniitans, who most admired him and most
feared or hated the Papists, seem to have com-
forted themselvea with the conviction that he
would never many a Catholic wife.'

A match, which was perfectly to the taste of
the people, though not to that of her mother, was
at length proposed for the Princes) Elizabeth;
and on the 16th of October, 1612, Frederick V.,
the Connt Palatine, the bridegroom elect, who
had the good wiahes of all 9»aloua Prot«8taitta,
arrived in England to reoeive his Toiing bride.
In the midst of the festive preparationa for this
marriage. Prince Henry, who appears to have
oatgiown his etrength, and to have greatly ne-
glected the care of his health, was seised with a
daugeroos illness at Richmond, where he
preparing his house for the reception of the Pa-
latine. Recovering a little, and hoping to conquer
the diseaae by the vigour of his spirit, he rode
up to London to welcome his int«nded brother-
in-law at Whitehall On the 24th of October,
notwithstanding the weak state of his body and
the coldness of the season, he played a great
match of tennis with the Count Henry of Nas-
sau, in hia shirt. That night he complained ex-
ceedingly of lassitude and a pain ill his head. Thi
following morning, being Sonday, though faint
and drowsy, he would rise and go to the chapel.
EVom the sermon in his own house the prinoe
went to Whitehall, where he heard another with
the king. After this he dined with his majesty,
and ate with a seemingly good appetite, but his
countenance was sadly pale, and his eye hollow
and ghastly. After dinner his courage and re-
soludon, in combating with and dissembling his
disorder, gave way to the force of it, and he
was obliged to take a hasty leave and return
Bt. Jamea'e. There he grew daily worse. E
head frequently wandered, but on the night of
the Sd of November his delirium increased alarm-
ingly: he called for his clothes, for his armour
and sword, saying he must be gone. On Thurs-
day, the Sth of November, the anniversary of
the Qunpowder Plot, the king was informed that
there was no hope. Upon this, James, who had
visited him several times at St. James's, being
" unwilling and unable to stay so near the gates
of sorrow, removed to Theobalds in Hertfordshire,
to wait there the evenL' Abbot, the Archbishop
of Canterbury, attended the prince, told him of hia
danger, and took his confesuon of faith. In the
course of that day the prince repeatedly called
out "David! Darid!" meaning Sir David Mur-
ray, bis confidential friend and servant; but when

Murray stood by hia bed-side, he always answered
with a sigh, " I would say aomething, but I cao-
not utter it." During that night he made many
ts to speak on some secret matter which
seemed to [nvBS heavily on his heart, but he could
not be understood by reason of the rattling in
his throat. Sir David Morray, however, con-
trived to understand his eameat wish that a
number of lettera in a certain cabinet in his clo-
set should be bnmed. It is said that theae let-
ters were burned accordingly. On tbe following
morning his attendants thought him dead, and
raised such a ciy of grief that it was heard by
the people in the streets, who echoed the loud
lamentation. The prince recovered from his
funt, and in the afternoon took two cordials or
nostrums, one of which was prepared and sent
by the captive Baleigh. Bnt the sufferer was
now past cure and help, and he expired at eight
o'clock that night, being Friday, the 6th of
November, 1612. He was eighteen years, eight
months, and seventeen days old. The people had
not been made aware of his danger till almost
the last moment: their grief at his loss was un-
bounded; and all classes were deeply affected by
the early death of the spirited youth. He was
the more regretted because his only surviving
brother, Prince Charles, was a rickly and retir-
u>S boy, and had not had the fortune to acquire
popularity. In a short time dark rumours were
raised that Prince Henry had been poisoned by
the favourite Bochester, with whom he could
□ever agree; and these horrid suspicions did not
stop till they had included hia own father as an
accomplice. The whole notion was absurd; the
youth died of the effects of a putrid fever on a
debilitated constitution.* Bnt though James was
innocent of the poisoning, he showed a brutal
indifference to the fate of his son. Only three
days after the event he made Boohester write to
Sir Thomas Edmonds, hia ambassador at Paris,
to reoammence, in the name of Prince Charles,
the matrimonial treaty which he had b^un for
hia brother. In a very few days more he pro-
hibited all persona from approaching him in
mourning; and though he thought fit to delay
the marriage, he affianced hia daughter Elixabeth
to the Palatine in December, kept his Cbriabnaa
with the usual festivities, and solemnized the
nuptials on St Valentine's Day with an expense
and magnificence hitherto unknown in England.
Long before their calamities fell upon the Pal-
grave and his bride — indeed, before they were
well out of England — the court was hampered
and vexed by pecuniary embarraasments. Jamea
bad exacted the old feudal aid for the marriage
of his daughter, as he had done before for the

WaHt.

1, Hf:-

,v Google

I. 1613.

AC. 1606— 1613] JAM

knigLtingof his eldest wm; but the sum thus ofa-
tatniKl (it was oulf about £20,000) went bat a,
very short way towsTds paying for the dowry,
the eatert^nment of the brid^room with hin
aiUDeroos ratiDiie,&iid the marriage feast. Lord
Harriiigtou, who accompanied the bride to the
Bhine, claimed] on his retam, from the joaruey,
;£30,000. The king, having no money to give
him, conferred on him a grant for the eoiniTiff of
bate /arthinfft in brau.

The two noble Howards, the Earl
of SufTulk and the Earl of North-
ampton,' seeing that there was no posrability of
checking the mighty rise of Rochester, sought to
bind him to their family, and so share the better
in the good things which the king continued to
lavish on the favourite. Sofiblk had a daughter,
the most beautiful, the most witty, and the most
fascinating young woman in the English court.
This Lady Frances Howard had been married at
the age of thirteen to the Earl of Essex, only a
year older than herself, the son of the unfortu-
nate «arl who had perished on the scaffold in
Elisabeth's time. James had promoted this ill-
omened match out of a pretended regard to
Essex's father. As the parties were so yonng,
the bride was sent home to her mother, a weak
and vain, if not a vicious woman-, the bride-
groom was sent to the university, whence he
went on his travels to the Continent At the
end of four years they went to live together, as
one of them sapposed, as man and wife ; but if
Essex rejoiced in the loveliness of hia bride, and
the universal admiration she attracted, his joy
waa soon overcast, for he found her cold, con-
temptuous, and altogether averse to him. In
effect, his countess was already enamoured of Bo-
che«terand hissplendid fortunes. PrinceHeniy,
it is ssid, had disputed her love with the hand-
some favourite, but in vain. Sir Thomas Ovei^
bury had assisted Rochester in writing his pas-
sionate love-letters, and had even man aged sundry
stolen interviews between the lovers, in which
what remained of the innocence of the young coun-
tess had been made a wreck; but though Over-
bury'a lax morality did not prevent him from
rendering such services as these, his policy was
stroflf^y opposed to his friend committing him-
■df farther. He well knew the odinm which
Bocheater wonld bring upon himself by pro-
claiming his love and contracting an adulter-
ine marriage with the countess; and, wishing
to retain hia own aacendency over the favourite,
the fountain of riches and honour, he was averse
to the influence which the noble Howards would
obtain by the union. As the favourite was in-
debted to him " more than to any soul living.

n. NorthBznptan tb* br

■S I. 327

both for his fortune, nndeistanding, and repnt»r
tion," he spoke his mind freely and boldly, ob-
jecting the "l)BseneBB of the woman," the dis-
honour of such a marriage, and declaring that, if
itocbester persisted, he would raise an insuper-
able obstacle to the divorce from Essex, which
was to precede any open talk about the new
marriage. The farourite seemed to yield to the
strong remonstrances of hia friend and counsel-
lor. Overbniy, though familiar with the in-
trigues of a court and the worst vices of human
nature, foresaw no mischief to himself: he oon-
tinoed to derive profit and credit from his close
connection with Uie favonrito; and on the morn-
ing of the Slst of April, 1613, he boasted to a
friend of his good fortune and brilliant prospects.
That very evenbg he was committed to the
Tower. Bocheetar, in hia infatuation, had told
all that he had said to his beautiful and revenge-
ful mistress. In her first fnty she offered £1000
to Sir John Wood to take hie life in a duel. But
there was a too apparent risk and nneertainty in
this course; and her friends (her uncle, the Earl
of NortbamptAn, was among these advisers} sug-
gested a wiser expedient — wliich was, to send
Overbnry on an embassy to the Great Duke of
Bnssia, If he accepted this mission he would ho
oat of the way before the question of the divorce
came on; if he took the appointment in the light
of a hsnh exile, and refused it, it wonld be easy
to irritate the king against him as an undntiful
subject When the mission to Bussia was first
mentioned to him, Sir Thomas seemed not uu-
willing to undertake it. But then, it is said, his
friend Rochester told him how much he relied
upon his integrity and talent for business — how
much he shoald lose by bis absence; and, in the
end, implored him to refuse the unpromising em-
bassy, undertaking to reconcile him soon with
the king, if his majesty should testify any dis-
pleasure. By this time nothing but Sir Tho-
mas's immediate death would satisfy the malig-
nant countess, and Rochester had become as a pipe
upon which she played her stops as she chose.
As soon as Overbury had refused the mission
which was offered to him by the lord-chancel-
lor and the Eari of Pembroke, the favourite re-
presented to the king that Sir Thomss was not
only grown insolent and intolerable to himself,
but audacious and disobedient to his sacred ma-
jesty. James, who already hated Overbury,
readily agreed with his minion and the rest
of his council that Overbnrj was guil^ of con-
tempt of the royal authority. A warrant was
brought up and signed, and Sir Thomas was
sent to his dungeon. The countess's uncle North-
ampton, and her lover Rochester, had prepared
the business so that Sir William Wade was re-
moved from the lieutenancy of the Tower, and

,v Google

HTSTORT OF ENGLAND.

[Civil axd Ujl.

Sir Jerria Elns, or Elwea, a persoD whollj de-
pendeat npoa th«m, pot in his place. By their
order Elwes confined Ov«rbnry a clow prisoner,
■n that hia own father waa not suffered to riiil
hini,Dor were nnyof his servants admitted with-
in the walls of the Tower.

A few dajB after these strange practices, tite
Countess of Essex, backed hy her father, the
Earl of Suffolk, who aigned the petition with her,
sned for a divorce from her husband upon the
ground of the marriage being null by reason of
physical iucapacity. Forthwith Jamees^ipoiiLted,
under the great seal, a commission of dele^tea
to try this delicate cause. The dele^t«s named
by hia majeety were Abbot, Archbishop of Can-
terbury, the Bishops of London, Winchester, Ely,
lichfield and Coventry, and Bochester; with
Sir Julius Cnsar, Sir John Parry, Sir Daniel
Donne, Sir John Bennet, IVsacia James, and
Tboratts Edwsrds, doctors of the civil law. The
Earl of Essex, who had suffered enough already
from the beautiful demon, made no reaiataoce,
but seems to have gone gladly into measures
which would free him from such a wife. It haa
been mildly said that "all the judicial forms
usual on sudi occasioos were carefully observedi"
but it cannot be denied that the course of the
disgtaceful investigation waa biassed by inter-
ferences and influences of a moat unusual and
t^^ular chaiscter. Abbot, the primate, who
all this foul business acted like a man of honour
and conscience, objected strongly to the divorce:
but James took up the pen, and answered the
archbishop in the double capacity of absolute king
and special pleader. He told Abbot, roundly,
that it became him "tii have a kind of implicit
futh * in his royal judgment, because he was
known to have " some skill in divinity," and be-
cause, as he hoped, no honest mnn could doubt the
upri^tnesB of his conscience. " And,' continued
James, " the best thankfulness that you, that are
so far my creature, can use towarda me, is to
reverence and fullow my judgment, and not to
oontradict it, except where you may demonstrate
uMo tna that I am mistaken or wrong informed."'
The king was never backward in writing or de-
livering this kind of schooling, or in seconding
his minions through right or wrong; but it is
believed that his zeal was quickened on the pre-
sent occasion by the opportune gift of £2Bfl(X> in
gold, which Rochester made to him out of his
savings. The primate, however, would not sacri-
fice hia conscience, and three out of five of the
doctors of the civil law took part with him. The
bishops were less scrupulous, for, with the ex-

'itaduK. »KluC.L«ttr«oAmliWdiop Abbot. —Safarrioli

caption of Loudon, they all voted as the king
wished; and on the 2Sth of September a divorce
waa pronounced by a majority of seven to five.
The day before the sentence of divorce was pro-
nounced. Sir Thomas Overbury died in his dun-
geon. Bis body was hastily and secretly buried
in a pit dug within the walla of the Tower, and
care was taken to circulate a report that he had
died of an infectious and loathaome disease. But
from the first it was generally whispered that he
had been poiaoned. On the 4th of November,
in order that the Countess of Essex should not
lose rank by marrying hia favourite, James crea-
ted Bocheater Earl of Somerset The marriage
ceremony was performed on the S6th of Decem-
ber, in the royal chapel at Whitehall, in the
presence of the king and queen. Prince Charles,
and a great confluence of the bishops and tem-
poral nobility. The countess appeared in the
costume of a virgin bride, with her hair hanging in
loose curia down to her waiat. James Montague,
Bishop of Bath and Wells, the king's favourite
bishop, and afterwards the editor of his works,
united the hands of the guilty pair, and pro-
nounced the nuptial benediction; and Dr. Moun-
tain,dean of Weatminater, preached the marriage
sermon. At night there was a gallant mask
got up by the lords of the court. " The glorious
days were seconded with as glorious nights,
where masks and dancings had a continued mo-
tion; the king naturally affecting such high-
flybg pastimes and banquetinga as might wrap
up his spirit, and keep it from descending to-
wards earthly things."' Other masks followed,
each rivallitig its predecessor in splendour. In
every way this shameful marriage, which insulted
and shocked the moral feelings of the people, was
celebrated with far more pomp and parade than
that of the king's own daughter. The Puritans,
who were wont to declaim against all auch shows
and sports, found in these doings an inexhaustible
bject for invective. The countess, tlie favour-
ite, the biahops, the king himself, all came in for
their share of opprobrium; and the people gene-
rally, whether Puritana, ChorehmeD, or Papists,
regarded the triumph of profligacy with disgust,
horror, and wrath. And all this time James kept
trumpeting louder and louder that he waa a hea-
made kiug, and that the duty of hie subjects
a passive obedience in all things to his ab-
solute and infallible wiJL But the pinching of
pecuniary embarrassment must have reminded
him contioually that he was of the earth, earthy;
and the course of life he led was fatal to any
great reverence on the part of his subjects.

»Google

CHAPTER III.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY. -A.D. 1614-161&

JAMES I.

Continuin* prodig^ity of Junah-H* ia soinptUed to mwt liii pwlUnnnt-Hi* mimitan onderUko to muun
it— Thnr fulnn in tha ittempt— Tjr»nnLo»l procsediDgi of the Stu Ch»mber~lta cruel trntnieiit of Eduiond
PeMhnm -George ViUiera, ■ ntw rjj«l fii»oiirite. .ppenn— His rin in tha king-a fkvoHT-Tho Earl of Somer-
wt diicirded— He ii ucDwd of tbs poisoning of Sir ThocoM Oyerburj— Triila connected with the event—
Stringe puticnlna of Somenet'i trial — Hia singular mods of eluding oondamoation— Lord Bacoa'a aerviesa
in the tii»I— Ki*»lrj and qiurrela between him and Coke— Jamea Haka a wife for hia aon Charles— Rapid
rise of Villiera, the nev favoorito— Jamea yiaiU Scotlmnd— Hia attempts to inbvort the Chureb of Scotland
ud eatafaliah bialiopa over it— Reai«*uo« of Andrew Meliil to the innovatioDa— He md other Soottiah minia-
tora butiabed— Reaiatance to Episoopao; in Scotland— Biihopa itnpoeed on the Scota— Attompta of James to
win oiar the Scota to his changea— Hia hortility to English Puritaniara- Hia attempts to eatahlish the Book
of Sports in England— Eitr«T»g«nt conduct of Lord Bacon during the king's absence— His abject behaviour
on the return ot Jamea— Baooa'a intrigues to recover hia inflnence— Hia plots to aocompliah the marriage of
the hronrite's brother- He ia created Baron VenUam- 'ihe fefonrite'a aggnndiienieut of his lelatives— His
DWQ high officaa- He ii created h marqaia.

h IKCE tlie ili»8olutiou of parlmment
1 1611, James had atteiupbHl, as
luual, to raiM lotuie by writa under
the great sfal ; but the lueruhantB
I whom tie p)'iitci]wlly applied
refused him tlie aciximiuodatiun.
He opened n mai-ket fov the sale of honours;
Bold serernl peei'agea for large eunis: and ci'eaterl
a new order of kiiightu called btirouetH, whnse
honoure were hei-editui'y, and who paid ^£1000
each for their patentii under the great eeal. He
still continued giving with aa Uviah a liand an
ever to the«e servants, by which must be under-
stood his favouritiea and courtiera, for the true
•ervants of the atate were often left unpaid, and
told that they mtist support theiuselves on their
piivate patrimouies. Such as obtHined the higher
employments paid themselves by means of biibea
»nd peculation)). These places were geiiendly
sold to tha highest bidders by the minion So-
merset aud the noble Howards. Thun, Sir Falke
Orvville obtained the chanc«llurship of the ex-
chequer for the sum of £WO0, which he paid to
lAdy Suffolk, now the favourite's mother-in-law.'
The States of Holland had neither paid |irin-
cipal nor interest of their debt. Some of the
s proposed adopting bold and decisive
ler to obtain this money, but
James waa too timid to follow thrir advice ; and
M his exchequer was bare and his credit ex-
hausted, he reluctautly made up his mind to
meet parliament once more. It appears that
even at this extremity he would have avoided a
parliament had it not been for Bacon, who was
now attorney-general, and high in the royal fa- 1
voar,from which his nval, CcAe, had wonderfully r
declined. Bacon, who had drawn up » rpKnlnrJ
I Blivh, /TvofMiiKU. I

Vol. II.

plan for managing the House of Commons, as-
sured the king that the chief leaders of the late
opposition, such as Neville, Yelverton, Hyde,
Crew, and Sir Dudley Digges, had been won
over to the court; tliat much might be done by
forethought towards filling the House of Com-
mons with persons well affected to his majesty,
winning or blinding the lawyers, the lileriE vo-
cala of the house, and di-awing the country
gentlemeu, the mercliant:', the courtiers, to act
with one accord for the king's advantage. But
Bacon told James, at the same time, that it would
be expedient to tender voluntarily certain graces
and modifications of the prerogative, such as
might with smallest injury be conceded.' This
advice waa seconded by Sir Henry Neville, a
place-hunter, as ambitious a man as Bacon, and
smrcely more honest. In a well-written memo-
rial, he suggested to his majesty that he should
consider what had been demanded by the com-
mons, and what promised by the crown during
the last session ; that ha should grant now the
more reasonable of the commons' requests, and
keep all the promises which lie had actually made ;
that be should avoid irritating speeches to his
parliament, and make a show of confidence in
their good affections.* Upon these conditions, and
under this system, they undertook to manage tlie
commons {the lords had long been taroe enough),
and cai-iy the king triunipliantly through par-
liament to abundant votes of the public money;
and hence they were called ujidertaien, James,
in hie enibarrassiuentH, acceded to the plan, aud
Somerset put himself at the head of it with
Bacon and Neville.* On the 0th of April, 1614,

,v Google

HISTORY or ENGLAND.

the king opened the seeuoa with a concUialory
Rpeech, descanting on the olariniDg growth of
Foperf (he knew a little per«ecutioD would pleaae
them well), uid on his zeal for the true religion;
and theo he told them how much he was in want
of monej, and how nianj graces he intended for
them in this present MMion. But the commona
would Dot be cajoled: thej passed at once to the
great grievance— the cuatonu at the outporta and
impositions bj prerogative. " And such faces
appeared there as made the court droop.' Some
of the courtiera and members returned or won
over by the " undertakers," made a faint effort,
but their voice was drowned, and died awa; in
a helpless murmur about the hereditary right

[Civil. awB UlUTABT.

private conanltation with the rest of the judgea.
declined giving uxj opinion to the lords touch-
ing the legality of impoeitions on merchandise
by prerogative, because it was proper that he
and his brethren, who were to speak judicially
between the king aud his subjects, should be
disputants in no cause on any ride. The lorda,
who had expected a very different answer, now
declined the conference ; and Neyle, Bishop of
Lichfield and Coventry, who, for the share he
had taken in the Countess of Essex's divorce,
had been recently translated to the see of lin-
coln, rose in his place, and said that the com-
mons were striking at the root of the preroga-
tive, and that, if admitted to conference, they
might proceed to undutiful and seditious speeches,
unfit for the ears of their lordships. This Neyle
was one of the worst of James's bench of bishops,
and an object of detestation to the Puritans,
whom he had harassed and persecuted. The
commons fell upon him in a fury,and demanded
reparation; for the practice did not yet obtain of
one house of parliament supposing itaelf igno-
rant of what is done or said in the other house.
The bishop instantly changed hia tone, excused
himself, and, with many tears, denied the most
oflcnsive of the words which had been attributed
to him. By this time James must have dis-
covered that the tmdertaien had engaged for
more than they could accomplish. Lideed, the
discovery of this scheme, which was made public
before the meeting of parliament, contributed
to the ill-humour of the lower house. James,
ill his opening speech, positively denied that
there was any such plan entertained, protesting
that, " for uixdertaieri, he never was so bsae to
call, or rely on any ;" and Bacon had pretended
to laugh at the notion that private men should
undertake for the commons of England. A few
days after. Sir Henry Neville's memorial to the
king was read at full length in the house, and
at the opening of the session of 1621 James
himself eaprtidy eonfetttd that thtre had betn
ntcA a ichemt. Seeing no likelihood of the A^
spatch of the business for which alone he bad
summoned them, James sent a message, that if

of kings to ta» their subjects as they list. The
commons demanded a conference on this mo-
mentous subject with the lords. The lords
hesitated, aud consulted with the judges. Be-
fore the opinion of the latter was known the

mem'C h5l!l^^l.'''^'\"^"'' *"""^' '""^"'"^ ^•'«™' -"^^ *"' - nie»«ge, that if

whohSatL^^ r*'^*?'^' ^""^ Coke, dissolve parliament. The commons, in «ply,

T^^fiT^ :• K ^ .'"'P* '"'■ "" •'«''" S^"^'^ "tould be mireesed. It is said on a
nT^i^^t.^ h h"1,'^*1 T *""'^'""S ' 'i"-^«-We authority, that he then sent f ^r tht
I ke patnotinn by his hatred of Bacon and the commons, and toM all their bills before their
■K-usage^he had «ceived from the court, after a ! face, in Whitehall ; but, whatevlr ^^Tj^Z'.
indiscretion, his cowardice would be likely to
prevent such an offenuve and violent act What
is certain, however, is, that he carried his thnat
into execution on the 7th of June, and, on the
following morning, committed five of the mem-
bers to the Tower, for "licentiousnen of apc^di.'

™rt. th.t u, pi™ „d humour p»ta-. .nrf^«* . p„,i».
"«l. u oni piwinint to bm frimd. \n „^ «mnW«.d

,v Google

AD. 1614-1618.] JAM

At the time of tit'a hnatf and aogi; disBolution,
the pttrliunent had sat two months and two
days, but bad not paeaed a single bill. It ¥raa
afterwards called the Addle Farltament; Jnit
few parlianienta did more towards the proper
eetabliabment of the rights of the commons.'

For the next six years James depended upon
moat uncertain, and, for the greater part, most
illegal means. People were dragged into the
Star Chamber on all kinds of accusations, that
they might be sentenced to pay enormous fines
to the king ; monopolies and privileges were in-
vented and sold, and the odious benevolences
were brought again into full play ; and such as
would not contribute bad their naroee returned
to the privy council. Mr. Oliver St. John, who
put himself in this predicament, who explained
his reasons in writing like a lawyer and etates-
man,' and who did not spare the king, was sen-
tetiMd by the Star Chamber to a fine of ;£fiOO0,

lu Stu CinMBra, WBTmimia.— FfDia ■

and to be imprieooed during the royal [Jeasure.
But greatly as James wanted money, he was of
himself dlapoeed to be much lees severe against
thoae who refused it than against those wbo
questioned his Divine right in the abstract, or
censured his kingly conduct There was one
Edmond Peachum, a miniater of the gospel, in
Somersetshire, who probably first attracted at-
tention by preaching purituiically. His study
was suddenly broken open, and in it was found
a manuscript sermon, which had never been
preached, sharply censuring the king's extrava-
gance and love of dogs, dances, banquets, and
cosUy dresses, and complaining of the fcauda
and oppressions practised by his government and
officers. The poor old man was seized, dragged

IS I. 331

up to London, and committed to the Tower.
There he was examined by the ATchbishop of
Canterbury, the Lord'Choncellor Ellesmpre, the
Earls of Suffolk and Worcester, Sir Ralph Win-
wood, the Lord Cfaief-jastica Coke, and others,
touching his motives, advisers, and instructors,
" I find not the man," wrote Wiawood, " to be,
as was related, stupid or dull, but to be full of
malace and craft."' James, who in such cases
would always read th« law in his own way, in-
siited that the offence amounted to high treason,
and taking up his pen, he drew out for the in-
struction of his ministers and judges what he
called "The true state of the qnestion." But
Coke, who had not always been so scrupulous,
who, before the tide of his favonr whs on the
ebb, had concurred and co-opei^ted in many ar-
bitrary measures, maintained that the offence
might be a criminal slander, but did not amount
to treason. On the next merciless examination
of the prisoner. Coke was not present;
bnt his rival Bacon was there, in his
staad, and an assenting witness to the
atrocities committed. Twelve inter-
rogatories were put to the preacher,
who, according to the horribly concise
expression of Secretary Winwood, in
his report, was examined upon them,
"before torture, In torture, between
torture, and att«r torture.* "Notwith-
standing,' continues Winwood, " noth-
ing could be drawn from him, he still
persisting in his obstinate and in-
sensible denials and former answer."
Some two months after, the poor cap-
tive changed hia key somewhat, but
still hs would make no confession likely
to bring any one into trouble ; and, in
J. T. Smith, the end, he would not sign this ex-
amination, which was taken before
Bacon, Crew, and two other lawyers. In the
absence, therefore, of all other evidence, James
resolved that the manuscript unpreached sermon
shonld be taken as the overt act of treason. And
he called in the willing Bacon to smooth the legal
difficultiestothisstraugecourae. Bacon conferred
with the judges one by one, and found them all
ready to be as base as himself, except only Coke,
who objected that "such particular, and, as he
called it, auricular taking of opinions (from the
judges) was not according to the custom of this
realm.* This resistance to his infallibility stung
James to the quick, and pre|«red, perhaps more
than any other single circumstance, the triumph
of Bacon over his great rival. In the end Coke,

I /Minuli ^ On LanU aiid Ommou; Hiiniiiftoo, Sufa
Ixl,; BHIq. Watt: Catt; Wiltn; OarU; HaUam.
*8«hMIaturliiailate.

' LAtlflT from Seontuy Winwood to i
anoQ, In DAliTmple J/ird Hallq^ M
* IbLd, The oriflna] of thii pndoufl

rdibout Cii«Jui

»Google

332

. HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil ard Hilimrt.

fiiiding himseU Bttuutiag alone, consented to give
some opinioiiH iu writing; but these were evasive,
and did not lend the liiog the confirmatioti of his
high legal authoi-ity. "As Judge Hobart, that
rode the weateru circuit, was drawn to jump
with his colleague, the chief bamn, Peachnm was
sent down to b« tried and trussed up in Somer-
setshire," where the overt act of writing the libel
was supposed to have been committed. The
poor old preacher was accordingly condemned
for liigh treason, on the 7th of August, 1615.
Thej did not, however, proceed to execution,
and Peachum died a few months after in Taun-
ton jail. This has been considered as the worst
and most tyrannical act of James's reign; but
there are others not at all inferior in violence
and illegality. Those writerB who consider this
reign as an amusing farce, and nothing worse,
appear to have forgotten such incidents.

On the 10th of June, 1614, about a week after
the dissolution of the Addle Parliament, the
Earl of Northampton, the grand-nncle of Som-
erset's wife, and the most crafty statesman of
that faction, departed this life. His nephew, the
Earl of Suffolk, and the favourite, divided bis
places between them, or filled them up with their
own creatures; but his death was a fatal blow to
their interests ; for they neither had his cunning
or ability themselves, nor could procure it iu any
of their allies and dependantii. But they might
have mainbuned their ascendency, had it not
been for the appearance at court of another
beautiful young man, and for the declining spirits
of the actual favourite. Somereet, guilty as he
was, was no hardened or heartless sinner. From
the time of the death of his friend Uverbury a
cloud settled upon his brow ; bis vivacity and
good humour departed from him; he neglected
his dress and peraon, and became absent-minded,
moody, aud morose, even when in the king's
company. All the courtiers, who envied him
aud tlie Howards, were on the wateh, and as
Jamen grew sick of his old minion they threw a
new one in hia way. This was George Tilliers,
the youngest son of Sir Edward Villiers, of
Brookesby, in Leicestershire, by his second wife,
a poor and portionless but very beautifnl woman.
George, who appears, at least for a short time, to
have been brought up expressly for the ntuation
he succeeded in obtaining, was aeut over to Paris,
where he acquired the same acoomplishments
which had so fascinated the king in the Scottish
yoadi, Robert Carr. When he appeared at the
English court he had all these French gracee, a
fine suit of French clothes on hia back, and
allowance of £M a-year from his widowed mo-
ther. Jamee was enchanted, and in a few weeks
or days young Villiers was installed as his ma-
jesty's cup-bearer. He waa tall, finely propor-

tioned, far more handsome— or so thought the
king — than ever Somerset had been, and, unlike
that now careworn favourite, his &cewas always
dressed in smiles. Soon after there was a great
but private supper -entertainment at Baynard'a
Castle, at which the noble Herberts, Seymours,
BuBsells, and other courtiers of high name, de-
vised how they should get Somerset wholly oat
of favour and office, and put George Villier* in
hia place.' Their only difficulty was to induce
the qneen to enter into their plot, for they knew
" that the king would never admit any to near-
ness about himself but such ns the queen shonld
commend to him ; that if she should complain
afterwards of the dear one, he might make an-
swer, it ia along of yourself, for you commended
him unto me."* Now, though her majesty Queen
Anne hated Somerset, she bad seen Villiera, and
did not like bim. To remove this feeling of the
queen's, to labour for the substitution of one base
minion for another, was thought a duty not aa-
suitable to the primate of the English chnrch ; and
Archbishop Abbot, iu his animosity to Somenet,
undertook it at the request of the noble lords.
In the end, the importunities of the primate pre-
vailed; but Anne told him that they should all
live to repent what they were doing in advauciug
this new minion.* On St. George's Feast, April
24, 1615, his onoroastic day, the young cup-bearer
was sworn a gentleman of the privy-chamber, with
a salary of £1000 a-yeor; and on the next day he
was knighted. The doom of Somerset was now
sealed ; his enemies had chuckled over the sac-
cess of their scheme, and the most timid saw that
there would no longer be any danger in accusing
the favourite of a horrible crime which had long
been imputed to him by the people. He was
not BO blind to his danger as court favourites
have usually been ; and before any prooeedings
were instituted agidnst him he endeavoured to
procure a general pardon to secure him in his life
and property. Sir Robert Cotton drew one out,
"as large and general aa could be,* wherein the
king was made to declare, " that, of hie own mo-
tion and special favour, he did pardon all, and all
manner of treasons, misprisions of treasons, mur-
ders, felonies, and outrages whatsoever, by the
Earl of Somerset committed, or hereafter to be
committed."' James, hoping thereby to rid hiln-
self for ever of his disagreeable importunitiee.

wdwr h^ oMniiHii I

,v Google

AJ>. 16I4-161ftl JAW

Approved of the document most heartily ; but the
ChsDcellor Elleamere refused to put the great seal
to it, alleging that such an act would subject him
to a premuuire.

Secretary Winwood is said Ut have been the
first to declare to James that the Countees of
Essex and Somerset had caused Sir Thomaa
Overbnry to bo poisoned. When James privately
summoned Elwes, the lieutenant of the Tower,
into his presence, and questioned aud cross^ues-
tioned him, he was fully couvinced of the fact ;
but he still kept the earl about his person, con-
cealed ail he knew, and even simulated a return of
his former warm affection. He went to hunt at
Soyston, and took Somerset with him. There,
as he seemed "rather in his rising than setting,"
be was attached by the warrant of the Lord
Chief-justice Coke, who, however, had refused to
proceed until James had joined several others in
commisaion with him. "The king had a loath-
some way of lolling bis arms about bis favouriteV
necks, and kissing them ; and in this poetore
Coke's meeseuger found the king with Somer-
set, James then saying, 'When shall I see thee
again? When shall I see theeagainr When
Somerset got the warrant in the royal presence,
he exclaimed, that never had such an affront j
been offered to a peer of England. " Nay, man," I
said the king wheedlingly, "if Coke sends for
nw, I must go;* and as soon as Somerset was gone
he added, " Now the devil go with thee, for I
will never see thy face more !" This was at ten
o'clock in the morning. About three in the after-
noon the lord chief-justice arrived at Boystjin,
and to bim James complained that Somerset and
hiswife hadmadehimago-between in their adnl-
ter; aud murder. He commanded bim, with all
the scrutiny poasfftle, to search into the bottom
of the foul conspiracy, and to spare no man how
great soever. And, in conclusion, be said to
Coke, "God's curse be upon yon and yours, if you
spare any of them ; and Qod's cune be upon me
and mine, if I pardon any of them T'

Coke, who had many motives besides the love
of justice, was not idle. He had owed many pre-
rinna obligations to Somerset ; hut he saw that
aarl could never again be of use to him. Heand
bin brother commissioners took three hundred
examinations, and then reported to the king that
fVances Howard, sometime CouotesH of Essex,
had employed soreet; to incapacitate her lawful
husband Essex, and to win the love of Boches-
ter; that afterwards she and her lover, and her
uncle, the late Earl of Northampton, had, by
their joint contrivance, obtained the committal
of Sir Thomas Overbury, tlie ap^intment of their
creature Elwes to be lieutenant of the Tower, and
one Weetou to be warder or keepr of the priso-

ner; and, further, that the countess, by the aid
of Mrs. Turner, had procnn^ three kinds of poi-
son from EVanklin, an apothecary, and that Wes-
ton, the warder or keeper, had administered these
poisons to Sir 'Diomas. Coke had also obtained
possession of many note-books and letters; and
from a passage in a letter from Overbary to
SometMt, alluding to the menti of the latter, he
pretended to derive proof that these secrets
j must have been of a treasonable nature ; and he
I ventured thereupon to charge the earl with hav-
I iiig poittmed Prince Henryf In reality there
was nothing in Overbury'a letter which could
bear this construction ; Sir Thomaa merely said
that he had written a history of his confidential
connection with the favourite (Somerset), from
which his friends might see the extent of that
man's ingratitude. The queen, however, entered
into Coke's view of the case, and openly declared
that she hadnodoubt of the murder of her eldest
son. But the king discouraged this interpreta-
tion, and only believed, or pretended to believe,
that, in addition to his guitt in l>eing an accom-
plice in the poisoning of Overbury, Somerset
had received bribes from Spain, and had en-
gaged to place Prince Charles in the hands of
that court.

Weston, the warder, who had been servant to
Franklin, the apothecary who furnished the poi-
son, had been arrested and examined at the first
opening of these proceedings, and the countess
and all the other guilty parties were secured
without any difficulty; for not one of them sus-
pected what was coming. Weston at first stood
mute, but bis obstinacy gave way to Coke's threats
of the peint forte et dare, and to the exhortations
of Dr. King, Bishop of London, and he ccmsented
to plead. But even then he pleaded not guilty,
and BO did Mrs. Turner, Franklin the apothecary,
and Elwea the lieutenant of the Tower. Their
trials disclosed a monstrous medley of profligacy
and superstition; and what seems almost equally
monstrous, is the fact that the learned Coke, the
other judges, and all the spectators believed in
the force of astrology and witchcraft, and consi-
dered the credulity of two fraotic women as the
most damnable of their crimes. Mrs. Turner,
now the widow of a physidan of that name, had
been in her youth a dependant in the bouse of
the Earl of Suffolk, and a companion to his beau-
tiful daughter Frances Howard, who contracted
a friendsliip for her which survived their separa-
tion. As certein vices, not unknown in the court
of the Virgin Queen, had become common and
barefaced in that of her snecessor, it would not
be fair to attribute the demoralization of the
Lady Frances solely to her connection with this
dangerous woman ; though it should appear that
she ted her into the worst of her cnmet^ and

»Google

334

HISTOKY OF ENGLAND.

[ClTH. AUD UlUTABT.

found her the meaDi of eieeutiiig them. When
they renewed their intimacy in London, the lady
FranceB was the unwilling wife of Essex, and en-
amoured of the favourite Rochester. Mra. Tur-
ner hadhad her illicit amoun also; and believing,
aa most Udiea then believed, in the efficacy of
q>ells and love philtera, she had found out one Dr.
Forman, a great conjuror, living in I«iubeth, and
who was frequently conaulted by court damea
and people of the heat quality. FonoMi engaged
to make Sir Arthur Uainwaring love Mra. Tur-
ner as much aa she laved him ; and soon after
Sir Arthur travelled many milea by night, end
through a terrible storm, to viut the widow.
Instead of ascribing this passion to her own per-
sonal charms — and she was a most beautiful wo-
man—she attributed it entirely to the charms of
the conjuror at Lambeth. All this she told to
the amorous I«dy Essex, who, anxious for a like
spell upon Bochester, went with her to the bouse
of Dr. Forman. Like Mrs. Turner, the fair
countess thought her beauty less potent than his
ineaotations. She was grateful to him for the
favourite's love, and frequently visited him aftei^
wards with Mrs. Tumer.calliug him "fHthPr:"anTl
"very dear father !" It appeared, also, that tlie
countess hadsecretmeetings with Rochester atthe
house in I^nibeth. The wizard was since dead,
but they produced in court some of the countess's
letterato him, iu which she styled him "sweet
father!" and some of his magical apparatus, as
pictures, puppets, enchanted papei-s and magic
spells, which made the prisoners appear the more
odious, as being thus known to have had dealings
with witches and wizards. At this point of the
proceedings in court, a loud crack was heard from
the gallery, which caused great fear, tumult, and
confusion among the spectators and throughout
the hall, eveiy one fearing hurt, as if the devil
had been present, and grown angry to have his
workmanship shown by such as were not his own
•cholara. There was also producetl a list on
parchment, written by Forman, signifying "what
ladles loved what lords' in the court' The I^td
Chief-justice Coke grasped thb startling docu-
ment, glanced his eye over it, and then insisted
that it should not be read. People immediately
said that the first name on the list was that of
Coke's own wife, the I^y Hatton. It was fur-
ther proved— though in some respects the evi-
denoe seems to have been such as would not
satisfy a modem jury- that Weston had once
lived as a servant with Mm. Turner, who had w-
commended him to the countess ; that it was at
the request of the countesa and her uncle North-
ampton, commnnicated through her friend Sir
Thomaa Monson, chief falconer, that Elwes, the
lieutenant of the Tower, had received him as '
warder, and placed him over Sir Thomas Ovtr-

bury ; that Weston administered the poison, which
was of several kinds, and procured from his for-
mer master Franklin, in Sir Thomas's medicines,
Boupe, and other food; that he, Weston, had told
his employers that he had given him poison
enough to kill twenty men, administering it iu
small doses at a time through a course of several
months ; and that Somerset had commanded,
through the Earl of Northampton, that the body
of the victim should be buried immediately after
his death. Franklin, the apothecary, made a full
confession, in the vain hope of saving his own
neck; Weston also confeMed the murder, and
many particulars connected with it. Coke pro-
nounced sentence of death upon all these minor
criminals. As Weston won on the eoaflbld at
Tyburn, Sir John Hollea and Sir John Went-
worth, with other devoted friends ot the bllen
Somerset, rode up to the gallows, and endea-
voured to make him retract his confession; but
the miserable man merely said, " Fact, or mo
fact, I die worthily!"— and BO was hanged. Elwea,
the lieutenant of the Tower, who had made a
stout defence on the trial, confessed all on tba
scaffold, and ascribed his misfortnue to his hav-
ing broken a solemn vow he had once made
against gambling. The fate of the beautifal
Mrs. Turner excited the most interest. Many

en of fsshion, as well as men, went in their
coaches to Tyburn to see her die. She came to

Bcaffiild rouged and dressed, as if for a ball,
with a ruff, stiffened with yellow starch, ronnd
her neck ; but otherwise she matle a veiy penitent

Both Coke and Bacon eulogized the righteons
zeal of the king for the impartial execution <it
justice; but their praise was at the least prema-
ture. James betrayed ip-eat uBeaainess on bear-
ing that his chief falvouer, %r Thomas Motuon,
was implicated, and would probably "play an
unwelcomed card on his trial.* And when Uon-
vas arraigned, some yeomen of the guard,
acting under the king's private orders, to the
astonishment and indignation of the public, car-
ried him from the bar to the Tower. After m
brief interval he was released fctun that oonfin»-
ment, and allowed not only to go at large, but
also to retain some place about the court.*

As for the trial of tlie great offenders, the Eari
and Countess of Somerset, it was delayed for many
months. The delay w^is imputed for a time to
the necessity of waiting for the return of John
Digby, the ambsssador at Madrid, afterwarda
Baron Digby and Eorl of Bristol, who, it wan
1. Tamv hKl Intndnnid jiliui- kUixjIibiI nIKk, 4s. Th*
<Utakm vant oat witb ha ult it Trbam.

»Google

AD. leu-ieia]

aftid, could subetantiAto the Jat« favouritti'H trea*
soDable dealings witli the SpanUh court; but
when Bigbj' came he could do nothing of the sort;
and eveiytbing tends to prove that James had
■II along a dread of bringing Somerset to trial.
Even from the docnmeuta which remain, we ma;
see the king's unceasing anxiety, and a a;at«tn of
trick and manoeuvre almost unparalleled, which
cannot posublj admit of auj other interpretation
than thia^-Sonieraet was possessed of some dread-
ful secret, the diaclosure of which would have
been fatal to the king. The two priaonera, who
were kept separate,- were constantly beset by in-
genious meBBengerH from court, who assured them
that, if they would only confess their guilt, all
would go well — that they would have the royal
pardon to secure them in their lives and estates.
Nay, more, there was held out to Somerset, "in-
directly as it were, a glimmering of his majesty's
benign intention to reinstate him in all his for-
mer favour." When we mention that James's
chief messenger and agent was Bacon, it will be
niiderstood that the business was ably done, and
that the hopes and fears of the priaonera were
agitated with a powerful hand.' The countess,
after much pains had been taken with her, con-
fessed her guilt; but Somerset reaiated every
attempt, most solemnly protesting his innocence
of the murder of Overbury. He earnestly im-
plored to be admitted to the king's presence,
saying that, in a quarter of an hour's private con-
versation, he could establish hia innocence, and
set the business at rest for ever. But James
shrunk from this audience; and the prisoner's
request to be allowed to forward a private letter
to the king was denied him. Then Someraet
threatened instead of praying; declaring that,
whenever he should be brought to the bar, he
would reveal auch things as his ungrateful sove-
reign would not like to hear. James Hay, after-
wards Elarl of Carlisle, the friend and countryman
of Somerset, and other particular friends, were
de^tatched from time to time by the trembling
king to the Tower to work upon the prisoner; but
though, in the end, something must have been
done by such means, they for a long time pro-
duced no visible effect upon the resolution of the
earl. When the confession of his wife was ob-

t<3. Bbddh mMj poHfbljr i
the ramDor oT Bomsnet'i
buHh of tfae Spuniircli.

ittt to th« Hring prinH, Cbulat, and
ulHlvrt^kiti]

■ml} pmlbla thM

uiifoiinikidnpDrt.

t lta.ni from B«oon Mm-

with Spkln. Bonin*gt ihcmed
think of Sialn. ■'Ifha'{Prii

mble c

no (luoHou nlmW'Br, mirrly UJ
1 nniinlol by hit roijntj eT« to
CB Hmry), aji Lord Dortipouth,

intt, Lt WH not upon tb«
Countoa of Eh>

tained (it did not materially hear against him).
Bacon and the other commissioners, among whom
were Coke and Chancellor Ellesmere, told Somer-
set that hia lady, being touched with remorse, had
at last confessed all, and that she that led him to
offend ought now, by her example, to lead him
to repeut of his offence; that the confession of
one of them could not singly do either of them
much good; but that the confession of both of
them might work some further effect towards
both; and that therefore they, the commission-
ers, wished him not to-ehut the gates of his ma^
jesty's mercy against himself by being obdurate
any longer. But Somerset wouhl not "come any
degree farther on to confess; only his behavioiur
was very sober, and modest, and mild; hut yet,
as it seemed, resolved to expect his trial." Then
they proceeded to examine him touching the
death of Overbury; and they made this fiu^her
observation, that, " in the questions of the im-
prisonment," he was "very cool and modest;" but
that, when they asked him "some questions that
did touch the prince,' or some foreign practice*
(which they did "w/y ipariTtgl^*), he "grew a
lilUe stirred."' James received a letter from the
pi-isoner, but not a private one. The tone of the
epistle was enigmatical, but bold, like that of a
man writing to one over whom he had power.'
In it Somerset again demanded a private inter-
view; but James replied that this was a favour
he might grant after, but not before hia trial.*

Bacon was intruated with the legal numnge-
meut of the case, but he appears hardly to have
taken a step without previously consulting the
king, who poatitlated with his own hand the in-
tended charges, and instructed the wily attomey-
ral so to manage matters in court oa not to
drive Somerset to desperetioD, or give (in his own

irda) "occasion for despair or ffoshes." He was
perfectly well understood by Bacon, who under-
took to have the prisoner found guilty before
the peers without making him too-odious to the
people. The whole business of Bacon was to put
people on a wrong scent, for the purpose of pre.
venting Somerset from making any dangerous
disclosure, and the other jndgea from getting an
insight into some iniquitous secret which it im-
ported the king to conceal. On the 24th of May,

that wM what tbg Lofd Chisf-Jiutioa Cok« mtwit, *Ihii ha
•aid, It th* Eirl of SomenM't trial, * God toon what (rmt
with tht good Prlnoe Hodit. but I hMa heard Hnnathing.' "

■ Buoq'i Mt«r to tbi klDR, Id Cfitefa, lu hli poiUcript tba
vi1j>itorna)''gsnanl hji, " If it ■•am good onto jo

m^ Lord of Soiuamet, fVn- hii prepa

nlhaJ V

[pact ftom thii "well-choaen^' pmcl»r 1 S«vo-
• •baat thaold fatoniiu are Kldrawd hf BuDD.
jd dlafuttlng protaaLatlov, to the naw mmton,
on. • 9as ths laltn In Soman' T<am.

»Google

39G

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

I^ClTIL AND MtLtTARr.

)616, the coiiDtem wm teparattly arraigueii be-
fore the peers. The beautiful but giiiltj- woman
looked pale, and sick, Mid spiritless: she trembled
excessively while the clerk reaii the indictment;
she hid her faoe with her fan at mention of the
narae of Weatnn; and iihe wept and spoke with
a, voice scarcely audible wbea she pleaded guilty
and threw herself on the royal mercy. As booh
as this was done she was hurried from the bar,
and then, when she was not present to say that
her coufessioQ did not involvo her husband.
Bacon delivered a very artful Hfieech, Btnting the
evidence he had to produce, if aha had made it
iieceaaary by pleading not guilty. After this
speech the countess waa recalled for a minute to
the bar of the lords to hear sentence of death,
which waa proDOunced by the Chancellor Elles-
mere, whom the kiug and Bacon, aft«r long deli-
beration, had appointed high-st«ward for the

trials. On the same day Somerset, who ought to
have been tried with his wife, was warned by Sir
fJeorga More, the present lientenant of the Tower,
that he must stand liin trial an the morrow. Ow-
ing to some causes not explained, but at which we
may eiu<ilv guess, the earl, who hod before desired I

this, absolutely refused to go, telling the lieuten-
ant that he should cany him by force in his bed;
that the king had assured him he should never
come to any trial, and that the king durst not
bring him to trial. This language made More
quiver and shake; . . . "yet away goes More Ut
Greenwich, as late as it was, being twelve at
night, and bounces up the back stairs as if mad.*
The king, who was in bed, on hearing what the
lieutenant hod to say, fell into a passion of tears,
and B^d. "On my soul, Uore, I wot not what
ti) do! Thou art a wise man; help me in this
great strait, and thou slialt find thou dost it for
; a thankful master." "Returning to the Tower,
j the lieutenant told his prisoner that he had been
I with the kin-;; and found him a most affectionate
master unto him, and fidl of grace in his inten-
tions towards him; but, said he, to satisfy justice,
you must appear, although you return instantly
again, without any further proceeding, only
you shall know your enemies anil their malice,
though they shall have no power over you.
With this trick of wit he allayed his fury,
and got him quietly, about eight in the morn-
ing, to the hall; yet feared his former bold
language might revert again, and, being
lirought by this trick into the toil, might have
more enraged him to fly out into some strange
discovery. He had two servants placed on
each side of him, with a cloak on tlieir arms,
giving them a peremptory order, if that
Sonieraet did any way fly out on the king,
theyahonld instautly hoodwink him with that
cloak, take him violently from the bar, and
carry him away; for which he would secure
them from any danger, and they should not
. want also a bountiful reward."*

Somerset, however, when brought to the
bar of the lords, was in a very composed easy
humour, which Bacon took good care not to
disturb by any of those invectives that were
usually employed against prisoners. He ab-
stained, he said, from such things by the
king's order, though of himself he were in-
disposed to blozeu his name in blood.' He
handled the case most tenderly, never urging
the guilt of Somerset without bringing forward
the hope or assurance of the royal mercy. But
the prisouer, who displayed far more ability
than he had ever been supposed to possess,
though he ahsbdned from any accusations or

luklng'iwIU to H.* til

,v Google

AA 1614— 16ia] JAM

out-poDiiiigs of wMth ag«iiiBt Jiuqm, wu not
willing to aabmit to a verdict of guiltj, howerer
Bure of ft pardon. He maiutaiaed his innocence,
ftnd defended htniBelf bo Mj that the trial lasted
eleven hours. In- the end the peers unanimoiulj
pronounced him guilty. He then prayed them
to be interceseois for him with the king, adding,
however, wordi which meant that he thought
that it vould hardly be needed. " Bnt Who had
■een the kinffs restless motion all that day, send-
ing to every boat he eaw landing at the bridge,
curaing all that came without tidings, would
have easily judged all was not right, and that
there had been some groands for his fean of
Someraet'a boldnem; bnt at last, one bringing
him word he was condemned, and the passages,
all waa quiet"' A few weeks after nenteiice,
Jamea granted a pardon to the count«BB; "becanse
the process and judgment against her were not
of a principal, bat as of an acceaaory before the
fact." A like pardon was offered to the earl,
who stud that he, as an innocent and injured
man, expected a reversal oi the judgment pro-
nounced by the peers. After a few years' im-
priaonment, Someraet and his lady retired into
the country —there, as it ia said, to reproach and
hat« one another. The king would not permit
the earl'a arms to be reversed and kicked out of
the chapel of Windsor ; and upon his aoconnt it
was ordered " that felony should not be reckoned
amongst the disgraces (or thoae'who were to be
excluded from the order of St. George, which was
without precedent.''' Further, to keep the dis-
carded favourite and depository of royal mysteries
from desperation, he was aUowed for life ijie then
^)lendid income of ^4000 a-year. Considering
the power of money and the baaeness of the age,
we are inclined to doabt the oratorical acoonnta
of the loneliness and abandonment into which he
fell. The countess died in 1832, in the reign of
Charlea I.j the earl, who survived her thirteen
years, will reappear on the scene towards the
dose of the present reign. Their daughter, an
only child, the Lady Anne Carr, who was born
in the Tower, was married to William, fifth Earl,
and afterwarda firat Duke, of Bedford, by whom
ahe had many children, one of whom waa the
celebrated Lord Bossell, who died on the acaSbld
in the time of Charles II. She is described as a
lady of great honour and virtne : and it is said
that her mother's history was so carefully

> IFcUm. Old StrAathmApm

dliv«l in (kU. bat bii uamut at tb

m^ he uid ft fricmd hul bum Sir

(•rtoMiB In VmaMtmi Puk, iHtt being long

UMkne^iiitli

337

cealed from her, that ahe knew nothing of the
divorce of I«dy Eaaei nntil a year or two before
her death.* The ill-used Earl of Essex will ap-
pear hereafter, and moat conspicuously, as the
leader of the parliament army ag^nat the un-
fortnnate successor of King Jamas.

It should appear that the services of Bacon in
the Overbnry and Somerset case secured his
triumph oyer his rival. Coke, however, had long
been hated by the king, and in his irritation
thereat he took an independent, and what might
otherwise have been a patriotic course in ad-
miniatering the law. Many things had made
the lord chief-juatice totter in his seat, but a
dispute with Villiers, the new favourit*, about
a patent place at court, a dispute with the king
about bishoprics and commendama, and the in-
genioua malice of Bacon, who had James's ear,
laid him prostrate at last. By the advice of
Bacon, he was called before the council: the
other judges had all been there before him, to
kneel to the king and ask pardon for attempting
to act according to law. Bacon, Ellesmere, and
Abbot the primate had been employed for some
time in ebUecting charges against him. Coke
was accQsed of concealing a debt of £l2jOOQ, due
to the crown by the iato Chancellor Hatton ) of
uttering on the bench words of very high con-
tempt, saying that the oommon law would be
overthrown, wherein he reflected upon the king ;
and, thirdly, of uncivil and indiscreet carriage
in the matter of commendama. Coke repelled
the charge about the money, and he afterwards
obtained a legal decision in his favour : without
denying his words on the bench, he palliated the
second charge; to the third he confessed, and
prayed forgiveneaa. The king ordered him to
^pear a second time before the council, and
then the prond lawyer was brought to hia knees
to bear the judgment of his royal master, which
was, that he should keep away from the coundl-
table and not go the circuit, but employ him-
self in correcting the errors in his book of reports.
When Coke reported to the king that he could
discover only five unimportant errors in his
book, James cboae to consider that he was proud
and obstinate, and gave the chief justiceship to
Montague, the recorder of London. It is said
that Coke, on receiving his v^>entdtat, wept like

Prince Charles, now ereat«d Prince of Wales,
was in his seventeenth year, and the king had
not yet succeeded in negotiating what he con-
sidered a suitable marriuge for hi"i. The reli-
gious feelings of his subjecu, both in EngknJ
and Scotland, were violently opposed to any
Catholic match ; but James's pride led him to
prefer a family alliance with some one of the

»Google

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

[Civil amd Miutart.

royal houses in Europe, and of thou houaes the
greatest were ftll Catholic. Suspecting at last
that the coitrt of Spain had no intention to con-
clude aaj arrangemeiit with him, he opened
negotiations with that of France for the hand of
Madame Christine, sister to the younft King
Loaia XIII.; but, notwithstanding an extrava-
gant and pompous embassy, the French court
preferred an alliance with the Duke of Savoy.
Shortly after the failure of this treaty, Concini,
Manthal D'Ancre, a Florentine, who had accom-
panied the queen mother, Kloria de' Medic*!, into
France, and who, since the death of Henty IV.,
had rated the whole kingdom, was raurdered
on the drawbridge of the Louvre by Vitry, one
of the captains of the body-guard. The deed
was done in broad daylight, by order of Louis,
who liad been kept in a state of subjection, mid
almost of bondage, by his mother's favourite.
On the following day the people of Paris raised
a cry against the excommunicated Jew and
wizard ■, they dug up his body, which had been
hastily buried — dragged it through the streets —
hung it by the heels on a gibbet on the Font
Neuf — cut it up— burned part of it before the
statue of Henry IV., and threw the rest into the
Seine, The pariiament of Paris proceeded against
the memory of the deceased favourit«, declared
him to have been guilty of treason both against
Ood and the Icing — condemned his wife to be
beheaded, and her body afterwards burned—
and declared his son to be ignoble and incapable
of holding any property or place in France. In
this strange process there was more talk of sorcery
and devil-dealing than there had been on the
trial of the murderers of Overbuiy ; and it was
pretended that monstrous proofs were discovered
of the Judaism and magic of the wretched Flo-
rentine.

In the meanwhile, Jame«'s new favourite,
Villiers, was becoming far more powerful and
mischievous than his predecessor, Somerset. The
old Earl of Worcester was made to accept a pen-
sion and the honorary office of president of the
council, and to resign his place of master of the
horse to the minion, who was now Viscount
Villiers, and was soon after (on the 5th of Janu-
ary, 1617) created Earl of Buckingham. Bacon,
who, on Villierrf first advancement, had written
an elaborate treatise to show him how to demean
himself in his post of prime favourite, got some
reward at the same time,' The old Chancellor
Elleemere, who in moments of sickness had re-
peatedly complained of his great age, his griefs,
and infirmities, but whO| when the fit was past,
had baffled the hopes of the attorney-general and
had clung to his place, having been gratified with
the title of Viscount Brarklev in November, Ifilfi,

felt his end approaching in the month of Feb-
ruary, formally resigned the seals in March, and
died a fortnight after. James gave the seals,
with the title of Lord-keeper, to Bacon, who had
pledged himself to do the royal will in all things.

Qioaai ViLUCU, Duka at Buclifnihun,— Fnun ■ print
■nsr Uichul HlueTdl.

The great philosopher, now in the fifty-fourth
year of his age, was made giddy by his elevation :
he rode to Westminster Hall on horseback, in a
gown of rich purple satin, between the lord-trea-
surer and the lord privy-seal, with a splendid
escort of lords, courtiers, judges, lawyers, law
students, officers, and servants. He seemed in-
clined to nvaX the magnificence and finery of
Buckingham, and, in the absence of that creature
of the court, the fiillest^blown fop was the head
of the English law, the restorer of philosophy, the
greatest wit, scholar, and scoundrel of his age.

When James took his leave of his loving sub-
jects of Scotland, he had promised that he would
gladden their hearts and eyes with his presence
at least once every three years ; but fourteen
years had elapsed, and he had never been able
to recroRS the Tweed, Thia was owing to his
improvidence and consequent poverty. It would
have been too much to expect the poor Scots to
pay the expenses of his costly progress. But in
the course of the preceding year (1616) he luwl
restored the cautionary towns of Brill, Flushing,
and Rammekens to the Dutch, for £,700,00(t
florins, which was about one-tliird of the debt
really owing to hint.' Tliis Dutch money enabteil
t Ayifur, It ftppcftn tlua (bn dngllih imul*t«n ubd n*r»-

oT nadj Dwnvr. PSTt"" •^y tl^u Bgcnur; Wluwsul gol

!■■

»Google

A.D. 1614—1618.} JAU

Jmum to paj ofF aome of his moat pttmag debts,
utd to nJM on the fiiat bliuh of hia improved
cradit oetu-lj i£l 00,000 at t«n per cent, per aimnm,
for hia jooriie; into Scotland. " He begins hia
ioarney with the apriDg, wu-miiig the country
sa he went with the glories of the court ; taking
■uch recreations b; the way as might beat beguile
tie daya, and cut them shorter, but lengthen the
nighte (contrary to the aeasons); for what with
hawking, banting, and horae-racing, the daya
quickly ran away ; and the nighta, with feasting,
masking, and dancing, were the more extended." '
At Berwick, the king and hia favourite, and faia
Engliah courtien and jesters, were met by a
namerons deputation of the Scottish nobility,
who conducted them by alow stages to Edinburgh
— for Jamea loTed to atop at every good house or
aporting-gronnd that he came nigh. His chief
object in visiting Scotland was, however, to
effect the complete establishment of the Epiacopil
form of chuivh government, and to assimilate
the religious wonhip of the two countries. With-
ont the least spark of religious zeal or fanaticism,
Jamea wa* most determinately bent on the aub-
verdon of the Presbyterian system, the spirit
and f<Hin of which he detested more than ever,
aa inimical to his notion of the Divine right of
kings, and their absolute enpremacy over the
church as well aa state, From the time of his
controversy with the English Puritans at Hamp-
ton Oonrt, he had been devising how he ahould
fully t««tore Episcopacy in Scotland ; and, by
meana of English money, and the boldness and
cunning of hia principal minister there. Sir
Qeotge Hume, afterwards Earl of Dimbar, he
had made some progreea in this direction. The
first blow was struck at the general aaaembly of
the Scottiah kill in 1606. Thia aaaembly was
arbitrarily prorogued by royal authority three
timea in rapid succesaion. A number of the
clergy met at Aberdeen ; their meeting was pro-
hibited, bnt they proceeded to assert their rights,
chose a moderator, fixed an assembly to be held
in the course of that yeiir, and then dissolved
themselves, in compliance with au order from
the privy ooanciL Thirteen of the leading mem-
bers wera forthwith selected for fierce prosecu-
tion ; and out ftf this number Welsh, Drnry, and
four other popular preachera, were convicted by
the crown lawyers and a slavish jury of high
trwoMn. After a rigorooa confinement, aentence
ol death was commuted into perpetual banish-
ment. These oonscieutious men retired to the
n«testant churches in Frsnoe and Holland,
whither they wera soon followed by many volun-
tary exiles, who revered their doctrines, and
who were seared by the approaching hwns of
the mitre. Soon after, the bishops, who had

"i"

never altogether cesaed to exiat in name, were
re-established in authority and in revenue — that
is, to the extent of the power of James and his
slavish court. These occupants of dilapidated
seea, who were ready on all occasions to maintain
that it was a part of the royal prerogative to
preacribe the religions faith and worship of the
people, soon came into confiict with the Pres-
byterian clergy. Old Andrew Melvil, tJie euc-
cesser of John Knox, James Melvil, his nephew,
and uz others, were somrooned up to London,
where James disputed with them about doctrine
and practice. It is probable that the king did
not treat them with more respect than he had
treated the Puritans at Hampton Conrt; and
old Melvil was made of firmer materials than
those preachers. To the king his behaviour was
respectful; but when he was interrogated by
some Scottish lords, he said indignantly, " I am
a free subject of Scotland^a free kingdom, that
baa laws and privileges of its own. By these I
stand. No legal citation has been issued against
me, nor are yon and I in our own country, where
such an inquisition, so oppressive as the present,
is condemned by parliament " James, who had
only invited them to a fit* conference, prohibited
the return of the Scottish preachers to their own
country, and insisted on their attending worship
in his royal chapel, where they might hear the
preaching of hia courtly bishops. This made
matten worse. The characters of the bishops
moat about court were not spotlese, and their
discourses seemed monstrously slavish to the
unbending Calvinists: nor did the rites and
oblations of the chapel, the gilded altar, the
chalicea, the tapers, improve in their eyes upon
a closer but a compulsory acquaintance. Old
Andrew Melvil vented his feelings of disgust in
a Latin epigram of six lines, in which he set
down all these things aa relica of the scarlet
she-wolf of Borne.* The verses were shown to
James, who summoned the author before his
English privy council, where Andrew was so
irritated that he burst forth into an invective
against the whole Anglican church, and pulled
or shook what he called the Bomish rags of the
Archbishop of Canterbnry't snrpUce. For all
these oflenoea Jamea arbitrarily committed him
to the Tower of London, where he lay for four
yean. He was then liberated at the earnest
prayer of the Duke of Bouillon, bnt only upon
condition that he should pass the remiunder of
his life in some foreign country. The venerable
champion of Calvinism retired to Sedan, and
died abroad in 1630. His nephew, James Mel-
vil, was confined for life to Berwick, on the con-
tines of his native country, whero he died six
yean before his uncle. The other six Scottish

,v Google

340

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil axd Militajit,

preachura who hod acconiptuued them to theyra
confereuca were buushed to sepamte and remotA
distdcts in Scotland. To quiet tho murmun of
tha Presbyterian clergy ^to win them over to
the biahopt, whose indeSuite powers the king
continued to advance— the Earl of Dunbar em-
ployed threata and bribes. Forty thousand marks
were diitributed among the memhers of an ec-
cletuaatical convention summoned by royal autho-
rity, that met at Linlithgow, at the end of the
jear 1606, and appointed certain dei^gymen to
be permanent moderators of the preabyt«riea
witliin which they resided, and the biahops to
be ex officio lbs moderators of the provinci&l
■ynoda. But the great body of the Sfiottieh
clergy — a spiritual republic— were inoansed at
this aubveruon of equality ; they soon resumed
their independence in the synods, and set aside
the authority of the bishops as perpetual mode-
rators. Thesynoda were then, as seditious bodies,
prohibited from assembling. In 1609 the con-
aistorial courts, which at the Reformation had
been given to civil judges, were restored to the
bishops i sjid the Archbishop of Glasgow was
created an eztraoidinary lord of aeesion, iu order
to reatore a spiritual intermixture to that high
court of law, which hod originally con^ated of
anequalnumberoftomporal and spiritual judges.
But this latter plan was stopped iu the conunence-
nient, by the determination of James to establish
a Beparate and paramount court, which, if he was
so minded, he might fill entirely with biahops.
The High Commission Court — the greatest griev-
ance of the land^xisted in England as a part
or a result of the king's supremacy over the
ehnrch ; but in Scotland this supremacy had
not yet been acknowledged, and no such court
could be imposed with anything like a decent
regard to law. Yet notwithstanding this fact,
and the violent repugnance of the people, James,
in 1610, erected two courts of high commisaion
— one at St. Andrews, the other at Glasgow —
more arbitrary, more abaoluto than the detestable
court in London. And, as if the Scots did not
already sufficiently hato the name of bishop, the
Archbiahopa of St. Andrews and Glasgow were
put at the bead of these tyrannical courts, and
it was declared that either of these prelates and
[our Bsaistanta should compose a quorum, from
whose sentence there was no appeal. It was
soon evident that an oppression of this kind
must be enforced by troopa of horaa^ aa well as
by bishops ; but the peace-loving king would not
see the inevitable result of his system.

An assembly of tbe kirk was held at Glasgow
in June, 1610, for the purpose of confirming the
authority of the bishopsj and, partly by the high
ezercisa of authority, partly by a trick which
kept away the bolder ministers, and partly by

bribery, the primate obtained seveni inq>ortaut
concessions. Then Dunbar, and some of the
bishops, would have proceeded to the entire sup-
pression of presbyteries; but tbe more pradeut
considered such a measure as dangerous or pre-
mature, and it was laid aside for the present.
The packed clergy, however, solemnly recognized
the km^e ecclesiastical supremacy, and the right
of bi^opa to ordain and induct to churches.
Under the crafty and bold management of 1^
Earl of Dunbar, the Scottish parliament con-
firmed and enlarged these decisions. HiUierto
the Scottish prelates had not been consecrated
by the imposition of prelatical hands ; but now
three of their number were summoned up to
London to undergo that ceremony, and on their
return they imposed their hands on the other
Scottish bishops, who were thus presented to the
scorning and incredulous people as legitimate
successors of the apostles. These proceedings
were soon followed by the death of the Earl of
Dunbar, whose place, whether for the king or
the bishops, was badly supplied by some of the
kinsmen of Carr, Earl of Somerset, who misruled
Scotland till the downfall of that favourite.

In 1616, the year before James's visit, the
Episcopalians and the Presbyterians seam to have
witnessed with equal satisfaction the barbarous
execution of one Ogilvj, a Jesuit. Presently
after James's arrival, iu the month of June, 1617,
a partianiont assembled to establish the faith,
and ceiemouiee^ and discipline of the Sootlisit
church. But by this time sundry ot the lords,
who were holders of lauds which had formerly
belonged to the bishoprics, b^^an to he alarmed
as to the security of those parts of their property.
James disarmed their opposition by inviting
these great nobles to a secret ccmferenoe, where-
in, it is generally supposed, he addresaad himself
to their most sensitive feelings, and promised
that they sliould not be disturbed in any of their
possessions. Forthwith an act was [xepared to
declare, "that, in eoclesiastical a&irs, whatever
should be determined by the king, with the ad-
vice of the prelates and a competent number of
the clergy, should receive the operation and tbe
force of law." This bill was brought suddenly
into parliameni, and passed these; and James
was on the point of midcing it law in the Scottish
manner, by touching it with the sceptre, wheu
the clergy presented to parilauient a loud and
alarming protest against it. James trembled and
heaitatedi and, iu the eud, to aave his honour, he
pretended that it was idle to give him by statute
that which was part of the inherent prerogative
o( the crown; and the bill was silently with-
drawn. Another bill, assigning chapters to the
different hiahoprics, and regulating the methods
to be followed in the election of luBhopa, appews

,v Google

l-D. 1814-1616.] JAM

to liaw pMsed without any sturdy oppotition
efther in parliament or oat of it. Aft«r a very
■hort Marion parlinment yna diBsolved, and James
removed to St. Andrews to attend it gre&t meel-
iqg of the dergv. There he eansed Simpson,
EwMt, and Calderwood, diatinguished preachers,
who bad signed the Ute protest (which they were
rappoeed to have penned), to be bronght before
the High ComniiBsion Court, and convicted of
seditions behaviour. Simpson and Bwart were
suspended and imprisoned; Calderwood, the most
learned and moat hated or (eared of the three,
wma condemned to exile for life. The people
soon began to consider these victims of kingly
and prelaUcal rnge aa martyrs, and Utterly did
they avenge their wrongs on Jame^e aucoemor.
But, now, that complacent sovereign proMeded
to announce to the clergy assembled at St. An-
drews how they must forthwith transpiant and
adopt the ceremonies of the English church. It
was his prerogative as a Christian king to com-
mand in these matters — so he told the clergy —
nor would he regard their disapprobation or re-
raonstrances; but, if they could oonvince him in
fair theological disputation, then he might with-
draw his ordinances. But the Scottish theolo-
gians weie too wise to gratify the king with the
field-day he desired. They Icnew all about his
great victory at Hampton Court, and the result
of his free conferenoe with old Andrew Melvil;
the fat« of theirthree brethren, Simpson, Ewart,
and Calderwood, was appalling; and so, instead
of disputing or opposing the royal will, they fell
on their knees and implored him to remit the
live articles of the ceremonies to the considera-
tion of a general aaeembly of the whole kirk.
James at first turned a deaf ear to their prayer;
but he graciously granted it when some minis-
ter or minist«rs assured him that matters would
be BO managed as to make the general assembly
altogether sabmisaive to his will He, how-
ever, inmsted on the immediate enforcement of
some of the ceremonies at court; and he kept
Whitmintide in the English manner, surrounded
by his applaading bishops and courtiers, whose
knees and consciences were flexible. And from
that time no man was admitted into any office or
employment that would not kneel as ordered,
and conform in the other particulan. James
slowly wended his way Imck to &igland in all
the fnide of victory; but he was followed hj tlie
curses of the large majority of his Scottish sub-
jects, who had not forgotten his former solemn
pledges to maintain their church and their liber-
tiea, and who regarded him as an apostat«, a
renegade, and a faithless tyrant'

Daring the kiug^s absence in Scotland, he had
Ipcen greatiy annoyed by the strict manner in

' ■ CaUtrmed; Jtaltalm la^.

ES I. 3-;i

which the Sabbath was kept by the Presby-
terians. Aa he travelled southward he thought
over these things, and no doubt talked of them
too. In Lancashire, where the Catholics were
nnmeroua, and, it was said, increasing in num-
bers, petitions were presented to him, complain-'
ing that the Btrictuessof the Puritans in keeping
the Sabbath, and patting down all manly exer-
cises and harmless recreations, drove men to
Popeiy and the ale-house, where "they censured
in their cups bis majesty's proceedings in church
and state." Being met by hie hounds and hun-
ters, James made his progress through the hunt-
ing counties, stopping at Sherwood Forest, Need-
wood, and all the other porks and forests in his
way; but when he got to London he did not for-
get the Presbyterians or Puritans, and their ob-
servance of the Lord's-day. Assisted by some of
his chaplains and bishops, he prepared and put
forth bis Book cf Sporti, pointing out to the
people, with his usual minuteness, what pastimes
they might, and indeed ought to use, on Sabbath-
days and festivals of the church — what running,
vanlting, archery, and morris-dancing, what may-
poles, chnrcb-alcB, and other rejoicings, they
might indulge in "upon Sundays, after evening
prayers ended, and upon holidays." He pro-
hibited, upon Sundays only, all bear and buU-
baatings, interludes, and bowls; and be barred
from ijie twnefit and liberty of the other sports
"all such known recusants, either men or wo-
men,* to quote the words of the declaration, "aa
will abstain from coming to church or Divineser-
vice; being, therefore, unworthy of any lawful
recreation after the said service, that will not
first come to the church and serve God: prohibit-
ing, in like sort, the said recreations to any that,
though conform in religion, are not present in
the church, and the service of Qod, before their
going to the recreations.* It is quite cert^n that
Abbot, the primate, disapproved of the whole
measure, and thereby he increased the suspicion
which attached to him at court of being a Puri-
tan or Precisian himself; and it is said that he
positively refused to read the book in bis own
church of Croydon. Bnt the other bishops were
[ess bold, or leas convinced that some amusements
after the celebration of Divine service were so
heinous; and the Book of Sporti seems to have
been generally read as appointed.

In many ports of the country, more particu-
larly in the north, the peasantry, tired of the
severities of the Puritanic Sabbath, fell readily
into the spirit of the new law, and people again
came from church with merry faces, and the
village gfeen again resounded on tits Sunday
evening with merry voices. But, except to the
poor labourers in tiieee parts, and to the High
Church party, the measure was, in the ntmoat

»Google

942

HISTORY OP ENGLAND,

[C:t

, AKD MlLITAKT.

degree, odious; and many people, who were not
conrinced, perhape, that the ChrUtUn Sunda;
ought to ba kept u the old Jewish Sabbath,
refiued to be taerrj and sportful upon compnl-
aioti, and thought it absordly illegal that the
king, of his omi and sole authoritj, should iaaae
auch as ordinance. If nothing worse, the Boot
of Sport* was a great political blunder, tending
to increaae ill-will and irritation. But, for the
present, the niumiuts of the Puritana were timid
and subdued, and the full danger to rojaltj was
not felt till the year 1633, when, b7 the advice of
Laud, Charles I. revived hia father'a book, and
tried to give it the force of law.

In departing tor Scotland, James had iutruBl«d
extraordiuuj powen to Lord -keeper Bacon,
wlioae head was thereby turned more than ever,
and who, during his majestj'B abaence, conducted
himself in auch a maunar aa to ^ve mortal of-
fence to moat of the Qiinist«ra and men of busi-
uau that were left behind. According to a
canatic reporter of hia doings, he inatantly bc^an
to t>elteve himself king, to lie in the kin^s lodg-
inga, to give audience in the great banqneting-
house at Whitehall to ambassadors and others,
to make the rest of the council attend hia mo-
tions with the same state that the king was used
to do, and to teU the counsellors, when thej eat
with him for the despatch of buaineaB, to know
their proper distance. " Upon which,' continues
Weldon, "Secretary Wiowood rose and went
away, and would never ait more, but instantly
despatched one to the king, to desire him to
make haste back, for his seat was already usurped;
at which, I t«member, the king reading it unto us,
both the king and we were very merry. ... In
this posture he lived until he heard the king waa
returning, and began to believe the play was al-
moat at an end, he might personate a king's part
no longer, and therefore did again re-in*^ him-
self with hia old rags of basenees, which were sc
tattei«d and poor; at the kin^a coming to Wind-
sor, he attended two days at Buckingham's cham-
ber, being not admitted to any better place than
the room where trencher-acrapera and lackeys
attended; there, sitting upon an old wooden chest
(amongst such as, for his baaeneas, were only fit
for his companions, although the honour of his
place did merit far more respect), with hia purse
and seal lying by him on tiiat chest . . . After
two dayahe had admittance: at hia first entrance
he fell down flat on hia face at the duke'a (earl's)
foot, kissing it, and vowing never to rise till he
had hia pardon, and then waa he again recon-
ciled, and since that time so very a slave to the
duke, and all that family, that he durak not deny
the command of the meanest of Ihe kindnd, nor
yet oppoae anything: by which yon aee a base
spirit is ever moat concomitant with the proudeat

mind ; and surely never so many brave parts and
so base and abject a spirit tenanted together in
any one earthen oottage as in thi« one man." But
the groat offence of Bacon, for which more than
for anything else he waa made to lick the doat at
the minion'e feet, was his conduct in an aSair
which closely concerned the "kindred* of the
favourite. Coke, who in many things was not a
whit more high-minded than his rival Bacon,
perceiving the capital error he had committed in
opposing the viewsof Buckingham, took up, by
the advice of Secretaiy Winwood, a little family
project, which he thought would restore him
to place, and give him again bis old superiority
over his rival. The ex-Lord Chief-juatiee of
England had a marriageable daagbt«r — a young
lady that waa conaidered a great match — for
Coke had kept his money inat«ad of spending
it like Bacon, and his wife, the Lady Hatlon, waa
very wealthy, from the lands and houses which
Elizabeth had bestowed on her handsome and
dancing chamberlain and chancellor. One of the
first uses made by Sir George Tilliera of hia high
favour at court, and of the influence of James,
who was a prince very prevalent in such matters,
waa to secure rich wives for his poor brothers
and kindred. His elder brother, John Tilliera,
afterwarda created Tiacount Purbeck, waa pro-
poaed as a suitable husband for this young lady;
but Coke then, being not sufficiently informed of
court news, and not foreseeing the mighty dea-
tiniee of the new favourite, rejected the propoeaL
But when he saw himself deprived of ofiice and
the favourite in the ascendant, he changed his
tone, and before Buckingham's departuis with
the king for Scotland, he made a secret bazgain
to give his daughter, and to take place and hon-
ours in return. Bacon , a courtier to the back-
bone, eoon discovered this secret oompact, which
boded him no good; but counting as well on his
own great favour with the favourite and the
king, aa on Coke's disfavour with the king, and
relying on hia own ready wit and talent for in-
trigue, he fondly fancied that he had conjured
down this brewing storm, and made Buckingham
and "the kindred' averse to the marriage. At
the aame time he had atirred up Coke'a wife,
who waa always diaposed to act in direct oppoM-
tiou to the wiahea of her husband, whom she de-
spiaed and hated with an intensity rare even in
the matrimonial history of thoM days, to carry
off her daughter and lodge her for safety in the
house of her friend. Sir Edward Withipole, near
Oxford, and to conclude a written contract of
marriage with Henry de Tere, Earl of Oxford, for
whom, it appears, the young lady herself enter-
tained aoae aflbction. Coke, in a fuiy, followad
the fugitive and recovered hia daughter by f oiw.
Upon tbia the proud widow of Lord Hatttoi, tlw

»Google

A.T). 1014—1818.]

gnjiil-danghter of the great. Borgblej, carried her
•omplftiota before the priv^ council, where her
My for the occasion, the Lord-keeper Buod,
ehuged the diignced chief-justice with a flagnutt
breach of the peace, and coanteoanced Yelverton,
the newattomer-geDerai, in filing an information
in the Star Chamber agunat Coke. Baoon would
not have gone thus far if be had not been con-
vinced that theabeent tavoarite had given up the
■eheme ; bnt, to be doublf sure, he now wrote two
letters to Scotland, one to Bunkingham, and one to
the king. In the first, after treating the renewed
scheme for the match between his brother Sir
John TilUf TB, and the ^oung lad j, aolel; as a de-
vice of Coke and Winwood, he went on to tell
him that many a better match, upon reaaonable
conditions, might be found ; that the mothei'a
oonseat to it was not had, "nor the young gen-
tlewoman's, who eipecteth B great fortune from
her mother, which, without her consent, is en-
dangered;" and that this match was altogether
very inconvenient, both for his brother and hioi-
Hclf. Btoaiue, " Firat, he shall marrj into a dis-
graced house, which, in reason of state, is never
held good. He shall marry into a troubled house
of man sod wife, which, in religion and Chris-
tian discretion, is disliked." " Your lordship,"
continues Bacon, "will go near to lose all such
your friends as are adverse to Sir Edward Coke
(myself only except, who, out of a pure love and
thankfulness, shall ever be firm to you). And
lastly and chiefly, believe it, it willgreatly weaken
and distract the king's service; for though, in re-
gard of the king's great wisdom and depth, I am
persuaded thoae things will not follow which they
imagine, yet opinion will do a great deal of harm,
and caat the king back, and make him reUqwe
into those inconveniences which are now well on
to be recovered.* Therefore, acceding to Bacon,
his lordship would gain a gr«at deal of honour,
if, according to religion and the law of Qod, he
would think no more of this marriage for his
elder brother. To the king Bacon begged t« state
his disinterested opinion in the business of this
match, which he took to be magnum in parvo.
After saying some bitter things to keep alive
James's hatred of the ex-chief -justice, he re-
minded him of his own servility, and how, by
Ood's grace and his majesty's instructions, he had
been made a servant according to his heart and
hand. If,indeed,it was his majesty's desire that
the match should go on, then, upon receiving his
expresB will and commandment from himself, he
would conform himself thereunto, imagining,
though he would not wager on women's minda,
that he could prevail more with the mother of
the young lady than any other man. And then,
returning to his attack on Coke, he be^ed the
king to observe how much more quietly matt«ra

ES I. 343

had gone on since that judge and minister had
been in disgrace.' This letter went home to the
bosom of James; but Buckingham, who now led
him as he chose, was not only fully bent upon
the marriage, but was intriguing, by means of
which probably both Coke and Bacon were ig-
norant, to remove the violent objections of Coke's
termagant wife. As for the affections of the
young lady, they were things too trivial to enter
into the codBideration of any party. Thus, when
the great philosopher brought down his glorious
intellect to low cunning and matrimonial court
intrigues, notwithstanding his boast of his great
experience in the world, be could be outwitted
by an ignorant stripling like Buckingham, to
whom he hod given the power of insulting him
and degrading him in his own eyes. Bucking-
ham wrote him a stinging letter, reproaching him
with his pride and audacity, and giving him to
understand that he who had made him conld un-
make him at his pleasure. James, taking the
cue from his favourite, despatched an admoni-
tory epistle of awful length, rating and scolding
the mighty sage like a schoolboy. Upon this.
Bacon veered round and went before the wind.
He stopped proceedings begun against Coke in
the Star Chamber; sent for the attorney-general,
and made him know that, since he had heard
from court, he was resolved to further the mat«h ;
sent also for my I^y Hatton and some other
special friends, to let them know that they must
not hof>e for his assistance in their disobedience
to the yonng lady's father; wrote to the mother
of Bnckingham, to offer all his good offices for
furthering the marriage; and addressed a humble
letter of excuses and protestations to the favour-
ite, telling him that his apprehension that this
alliance would go near to lose him his lordship,
whom he held so dear, was the only respect par-
ticular to himself that had moved him to be as
he was, tjll he had heard his lordship's pleasure.
But all this was not enough; and abimt a month
aft«r writing this letter, Buckingham kept him
in the hall among trencher-scrapers, and brought
him to his feet. After the reconciliation at Wind-
sor he wrote another base letter to thank the
minion. The marriage now proceeded apace, the
king driving at it as if the safety of the State de-
pended upon its completion. Lady Hatton was
confined and interrogated by the council instead
of her husband; and Coke, to use his own ez-
preesion, "got upon his wings again." The obsti-
nacy of this dame yielded at last to the instances
of Uie king, and the mantnuvres of the favoorite'a
mother, who was all-powerful at court, and who
pretended a sudden friendship for her. She
made a liberal settlement out of her own property
npon her danghl«r; and in the month of Sep-

»Google

su

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil akd Midtart.

tember that uuwitling fur one wiu dragged to
the altar, is the chapel roysl at Hampton Court,
to many a uckly idiot. A splendid feast, en-
lightened by the presence of royalty, was given
soon after at Lady Hatton's house in Holbom;
and to make it more absolutely her own, express
ordera were given by her ladyship, aa was re-
ported, that neither Sir Edward Coke nor any of
his servants should be admitted.' The union, as
might be expected, turned out a moat wretched
one; and this appears to have been the case with
uearly all the matches promoted by James, who,
in the matter of number, was one of the greatest
of match-makers. The daughter of Coke became
a profligate and an adulteress;* and the crazy
SirJohnVillierOjCreatedViHcoantPurbecfc about
a year and a half after his marriage, became so
mad that it waa necessary to place him in con-
Anement. His brother Buckingham took charge
of the property his young wife had brought him,
and kept it, or spent it upon himself. But, after
all, the selfish father of the victim — the great
lawyer — was juggled by Buckingham and that
courtly crew. As soon as the favourite saw the
marriage completed and the dower safe, he felt a
natural repugnance to risking favour by urging
the suit of a bold-spoken, obnoxious man. Bacon,
again in cordial alliance with Lady Hatton, who
was most conjugally disposed to thwart and spite
her husband in all things, administered daily to
the king's antipathies; and all that Coke got by
BBcrificiag his poor child was his restonition to
u seat at the councit-t*ble— a place where he was
no mat<!h for his rival.

On the 4th of January the supple
lord-keeper waa converted into lord
high-chancellor, and in the month of Julyfollow-
ing he was created Baron Terulam. "And now
Buckingham, having the chancellor or treasurer,
and all great officers, his very slaves, swells in the
height of pride, and summons up all his country
kindred, the old countess providing a place for
them to learn to carry themselves in a court-like
garb." Rich heiresses, or daughters of noble-
men, were soon provided as wives for his brothel's,
lialf-brothera, and cousins of the male gender.
"And then must the women kindred be married
to earls, earls' eldest eons, barons, or chief gen-
tlemen of greatest estates; insomuch that his very
female kindred were so numerous as sufficient to
have peopled any plantation. ... So that King

A.D. 1618.

James, that naturally, in former times, bated
women, had his lodgings replenished with them,
and all of the kindred; . . . and little children
did run up and down the king's lodgings like
little rabbits started about their burrows.* '

People now looked back with r^p«t to the days
of Somerset, for that favourite had some decency,
some moderation; and, if he trafficked in places
and honours, he trafficked alone. But "the kin-
dred," one and all, engaged in this lacrative
buuuess. The greatest trafficker, or most active
broker, in the market, waa the Old Countess, as
Buckingham's mother, though not an old but
very beautiful woman — and infamous as beauti-
ful—was commonly called,* She sold peerages,
and took money for all kinds of honours and pro-
motions, whether in the army, navy, courts of
law, or the church. There were plenty of pur-
chasera not over-scrupulous as to the purity of
the sources whence they derived their honours
or titles; hut, in some cases, wealthy men were
forced into the market against their inclination,
and made to pay for distinctions which they were
wise enough not to covet. Thus one Biehai^
Robartes,a rich merchantof Truro, in the county
of Cornwall, was compelled to accept the title of
Baron Robutea of Truro, and to pay £10,000 for
it.' The titles that were not sold were given out
of family considerations: one of the favourite's
brothers, as already mentioned, was made Vis-
count Furbeck, another Earl of Anglesey; Field-
ing, who married the favnurite'e sister, was made
Earl of Denbigh, and Fielding's brother Earl of
Desmond in Ireland. Cranfield alao " moonted
to be Earl of Middlesex, from marrying one of
Buckingham's kindred."* James, in one of his
lengthy speeches, delivered in the Star Chamber
in 1616, complained that chnrchmen were had in
too much contempt by people of all degrees, from
the highest to the lowest; and yet, notwithstand-
ing the sharp criticisms of the Puritans, who were
every day finding more reasons for reviling the
whole hierarchy, be permitted his minion and
"the kindred" to hold all the keys to church
promotion, and to sell every turn of them to the
highest bidder, or to give them as rewards to
their companions and creatures.

In the course of this year the favourite was
created a marquis, and aa he expressed a desire
for the post of lord high-adroirnl, the brave oM
Howard. Earl of Nottingham, the coniraander-in-

I Sln^ord fapm. It la uld tlwt Coke, on Um lUr of »il>
frvit fyaMt. dioBd mmong thA lfeW7«n at tba Tampls.

' Mr. D'luull ICuriotUuM nf lilmilurf] nyi thut Cok«-|
dMf liter. Ludr Pnrlwik, vu nndwnncd, h nwintan. toitand

i^rrHon, whfch •Bgnu to bt oiDtnullcteil bji imMiihsd Intan

li« <n* anted ConotMt of Biickla^m

r lirr, In J11I7.

- All the Utl» of U»l dale, bome b; the f^xniui, IIh Fund

»Google

A,» 1618-1621,) JAM

chief of the fle«U that had tcattered the Spauiah
Armada, wm obhged to accept a pension, imd
make room for the maater of tlie horse, who was
entirely ignorant of ships and sea affairs. To all
these high offices were suboequeatly added those
of warden of the Cinque-ports, chief-justice iu
eyre of all the parks aad forests south of Trent,
tuaster of the King's Bench-tffiee, high-steward
of Westminater, and constable of Windsor Castle.

M I. 345

The doting, gloating king had taught Somerset
lAtiu; Buckingham he attempted to teach divi-
nitj and pmjer- writing, and these exerdsea ap-
pear prominently in a correspondence, for the
most part too gross for quotation, wherein the
favourite calls the king " dear dad and gossip,*
or "your sow'sbip," and the king calls the fe-
vourit« "Steenie." It was a strange intercourse
between teacher and pupil, king and subject.

CHAPTER IV.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1618— 1621.

JAMBS 1.

TTie fkvotiTit* paraaoutH the Earl of Suffolk— Uiiliaguiihed priioiiera JQ t>ie Tower— Sir Wdler tUlogb'i iiu-
priaouDtot then— Hii atudiv ud punuita in conflnaiiieDt—IIii Hittoi'n of the WoHd^Hu pivpoaal about
a gold mine in GniaOk— Ha ii libantad from tha Toner — Ctnmt Gondamu. tlie Spuilah aoibuudor — RaleigL
•ate Mil tac Ooiaiui — His attack on the apaiiiarda—Hii troopa rapnlaed — Failun ot tlie sipedition — Camplunta
of tha apaniarda ■gaiiut Ualeigh— Ha ii ureited— His fmitlaaa attsmpta (a esoape ftom London — Hia trial —
Hii oosdaot and ipaeobea at tba bar— His ■eatence— Hia dniaauODr in hia Uat moDianta — Hia exaontion —
Bobamia— Ita raligioiu raformation — Crown ot Bohemia ofibrad to tbs Palatine Fradeiiok, aon-in-lair ot
Jamea— Ha aooapti it- -Farplaiity of Jamaa at tha avaut— Ha Biki auppliea from parliamaot to aid hii aoD-

iD-lair— Parliameat eompliea, and procaeda to the reforui of abnua— Bacon acouaad, diaplaoad, and finad Hii

bebanonr andar hia (all— Sevan paniibmant iaflicCad b; tha commooa on Edwsrd Flojde— Ttaa king pru-
TDgnaa parliament— War in Bohemia— Tha Palatine unauccaaaful- Eipedition agiinat tha Algeriitei — Appli-
oation of Jamaa for aappliaa— Raaantmant of tba eomniona againnt him— Allereation between Jamaa and the
aomnana— Protaat of tha oonuuaua ^alnat his arbitrar; prinoiplaa— He prorocnaa parliament- Tie oommita
aome ot ila mambara to priaou.

i] UCKINOHAM this year attacked ]
the Ear] of Suflblk, lord-tnaanrer, \
and fathei^in-law of the disgraced .
Someraet— all the rest of that potty '
had long since been dismissed the
conrt— and that noble Howard was '
DOW charged with peculation and corruption, par- I
ticnlarly with reference to the money paid by the '
Dutch for the recovery of the cautionary towns, _
a bnaineo in which all the public men had taken '
bribes. Suffolk and his wife were both thrown I
into the Tower, and the ingenuity of Bacon, and I
of comraissioners appointed by him, was em-
ployed in making out a strong case of embezzle- |
ment against the treasurer. The earl wrote to |
the king, imploring him to pardon his weakness
and errora— guilt he would never eonfees— and
telling him thBt,instead of being enrichefl by the
plaoea he had held, he waa little teea than £40,0110 <
in debt.' Tlie name of this Howard waa rather '
popular, for he had fought bravely at sea in tlie \
time of Elizabeth, and Jamee was half inclined
to stop proceedings against him: but Buckingham
waa of a different mind, and the earl and couu-
tCH were brought up to the Star Chamber. There,
Coke, who hoped to fight bis way back to favour

by some of his old sharp practices, charged the
prisoners on one side, while Bacon, who spoke
like an Ariatides, assailed them on the other.
The venal and comipt chancellor was eloquent in
exposing the shameful vice of cormption. Suf-
folk, disregarding a hint to plead guilty and
make sure of the royal pardon, stood upon his
innocence, and it was the general opinion that,
as compared with his wife, he was innocent. But
the Star Chamber sentenced them to pay a fine of
.£30,000, and sent them both back to the Tower.
After some time, however, the fine was reduced
to ^(KKi, whirh was "dntched up by Ramsay,
Esrl of Haddington," and the Ear) and Countess
of SnfTolk recovered their liberty. The post of
lord-treasurer was sold to Sir Henry Montagiie,
chief-justice of the King's Bench, for a. large
sum; but in leas than a year it waa taken from
him and bestowed on ('ranfield, afterwards Earl
of Middlesex, who had married one of "the
kindred,'

But this same year witnessed a. far more memo-
mble proceeding— one which, while it blackened
for all ages the name of James, has perbapa
brightened beyond their deserts the fame am)
character of the illustrious victim. Sir Walter
Raleigh, it will be remembered, after receiving

»Google

846

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil ahd Militart.

KDtenM of dea.lh Kt Winchester, was immured
in the Tower of LoadoQ. In that diRni»l rtatc-
priBOD he found several men fit to be his mstea;
And these were iucreaaed year after year by the
ahaurd tyranny of the court, until it seemed
almoat to be James's intention to abut up all the
genius, taste, and enterprise of England in that
great cage. Henry Percy, the accompliahed and
munificent Earl of Northumberland — the friend
of science and scientific men, the enthusiastic
promoter of natural and experimental i)hilo90-
phj, the favourer of all good learning — and Ser-
jeant Hoskina, the scholar, poet, wit, and critic,
the admired of Camden, Selden, Daniel, the
friend and polisher of Ben Jonson — were among
the distinguished co-mates of S&leigb ; and these
men constantly attracted to the Tower some of
the most intellectual of their contemporaries, who
enlivened their captivity with learned and plea-
sant discourse. Northumberland served as a
centre for these wits, and his purse appeara to
have been always open to such as were in need,
whether prisonera or free. For some time Ba-
teigh did not require pecuniary assistance ; for,
though bis moveable estate was fDrfeit«d by his
attainder, it was consigned to trustees appointed
by himself for the benefit of his family and cre-
ditors, and his principal estate and castle of Sher-
borne in Dorsetshire, which his taste and unspar-
ing outlay of money in h is prosperous days " had
beautified with oreharde, gardens, and groves of
much variety and great delight,' bad been cs,u-
tiously conveyed to his eldest sou some time
before the death of Elizabeth and the beginning
of his troubles. But some sharp eye, in loohing
foi prey, discovered that there was a legal flaw
in the deed of conveyance, and the chief -justice,
Popham, Raleigh's personal enemy, and the same
that had sat on his trial, decided that, from the
omission of some technicality, the deed was alto-
gether invalid, No doubt the chief-justice knew
beforehand that the king wanted the property
for his minion Robert Carr, who was just then
oommencing his career at court. From his pri-
son Raleigh wrote to the young favourite, telling
him that, if the inheritance of his children were
thna taken from them for wttnt of a word, there
would remun to him bnt the name of life. Some
of the expressions in this letter are exceedingly
affecting ; but, in reading thera, we cannot but
remember that Raleigh himself, at his own dawn,
had greedily grasped at the possessions of the fa-
therless—that he himself had got from Elizabeth

■ Tbe Ont mtijr Id Lad fiaT(hl>/* DI1U7, oiidw U» j

IMT, )■ tlw Miowlnl:—
■• A nut af AnthoBT Biblnftai to Sir Widlw RiiWtb,"
Tha (mchlBt Dipn^iiin' bi Bdrifh'i iMMrla CuTsn th«
' Aiid Kir TouTHlf, >lr, iHliif joiir blr lUj i> iwir in

tlw kiii(^ fnu UHrtni }ou of muki taionn ud of mi

a grant of the landsof Anthony Babiugton, leav-
ing the young and innocent widow and children to
beggary.' The letter to the favourite produced
no effect. Then the prisoner's wife, the devoted
and spirited Lady Balei^, got access to the king,
and throwing herself on her knees, with her ehil.
dren kneeling with her, implored him to spare
the remnant of their fortunes. James'sonly reply
was, " I maun ha' the land^I maun ha' it for
Carr;* and the minion had it accordingly. From
this time it is probable that the hospiteble table
kept by the EsjtI of Northumberland was of con-
sequence to Raleigh on other grounds than those
of society and conversation. This extraordinary
man had always had a determined turn to letters
and the sciences; in thebustleof the camp, in the
court,in the discomforteof the sea,he had snatched
houra for intense studies, which hsd embisced the
wide range of poetry, history, law, divinity, as-
tronomy, chemistry, and other sciences. In the
Tower, the quiet of the place, the necessity hia
restless mind felt for employment and excite-
ment, and the tastes of his tellow-prisonere and
visitors, all led him to an increased devotion to
these absorbing pursuits. If he was a i&rely-
accomplished man when he entered his prison-
house, the thirteen years he passed thera in tliis
kind of life were likely to qualify him for great
literary undertakings. During one part ot his
confinement he devoted a great deal of his time
to chemistry, not without the usual leaning to
alehemy,andanindeGDitehopeof discovering the
philosopher's stone — a dream which was folly in-
dulged in by bis friend Northumberhuid, and
which was no stronger to Bacon himself. Ra-
leigh fancied that he had discovered an elixir, or
grand cordial of sovereign remedy in all diseases
— a sort of paunceo. On one occasion, when the
queen was very ill, she took his draught, and
experienced or fancied immediate relief. Prince
Henry, who bod always taken a lively iuterest in
his fate, and for whom Raleigh had written some
admiiKble treatises in the Tower, joined his
grateful mother in petitions for his libeiatioa;
but without avail. For the instructiou of the
young prince, Raleigh commenced his famous
MxHori/ of tkt WoHd—\ work, as far as it goes,
of uncommon learning and genius, and altogether
extraordinary, if we cooaider the time, the trying
circumstances under which it was written, and
the previous busy life of the author. The first
part was finished in 161S.' Shortly after young
Heiiiy died; and then, though (te use his own

td yfmt Bnt ptantAtloli .

n Irith mllH H

ii of t)M hlh«rla«.''~&Tu, Air.

»Google

*.D. 1618-1621.] JAM

expraaioo) he had "hewn ont' tlie second «iid
third parts, he had not hettft to fioUh them.'
In 1614 the revolutioiia at court had thrown So-
merset into disffrace, and brought Buckingham
into favour. Raleigh built new hopes on the
change, and instantly became a Buitor to Qeorge
VillierB. But he and his friends had never

I'rom Uw priiit In hit "Hutoijof llw WorLd.'ud. Itn.

ceaaed their endeavours at conrt, and before this
time 8ir Walter had proposed to Secretary Win-
wood a scheme which, he fancied, must eTcite
the king's cupidity, and lead to his immediate
release. In the year IS9S, Raleigh, in the course
of one of his adventurous voyages, had visited
Guiana in South America, the fabled El Dorado,
or Land of Oold, which, though discovered by the
Spaniards, had not been conquered or settled.
The capital city of Manoa, which had been de-
smhed by Spanish writers as one vaxt palace of
Aladdin — a congeries of precious stones and pre-
cious metals— eluded his pursuit; but he found
the country to be fertile and beautiful, and he
discovered at an accessible point, not far from
the banks of the mighty Orinoco, some signs of
a gold mine. He now proposed to Secretary
Winwood an expedition to secure and work that
virgin mine, which he was confident would yield
esbauatlesa treasures. The ships necessary, their
•quipment, and all expenses, he nndertook to
provide by himself and his friends; he asked
nothing from the king, who was to have one-fifth
of the gold, hut his liberty aud an ample com-
mission. Winwood, though a pructised and can-

347

tious man of business, was captivated by the
project, and he recommended it to the king as a
promiung speculation. James, who was almxMt
penniless, entered into it at first with more eager-
ness than the secretary; but, on reflection, he
fancied that the enterprise might involve him in
a war with Spain, which still pretended its ex-
clusive right, by Papal hull, to all those regions ;
and war was James's horror. Still, however, his
increasing wants made him often dream of El
Dorado, and he began to talk about Raleigh as a
brave and skilful man. Some noble friends of
the Aptive took advantage of this frame of mind:
but nothing was now to be done at court with-
out conciliating "the kindred;* and it was a sum
of £1600 paid to Sir William St. John and Sir Ed-
ward Tilliers, uncles of the favourite, that nndid
the gates of the Tower. Raleigh walked forth in
the beginning of March, leaving behind him, in
that fortress, the fallen Robert Carr, Earl of Som-
erset, who, in the follovring month, was brought
to his trial for the murder of Overbuiy. But,
though admitted to liberty. Sir Walter as yet
no pardon; and to obtain oue, and to restore
his shattered fortune, to indulge again in his
favourite pursuits, his romantic adventures, he
laboured heart and soul to remove the king's
objections t« his great project. James had a
burd struggle between his timidity and his cu-
pidity; he longed for the gold as the traveller in
the desert longs for water, but stilt he dreaded the
Spaniards, the dragons of the mine. His indeci-
was increased when, by his indiscreet gos-
siping, the project became known to the Spanish
ambajisador. Count Oondomar was a very ac-
>mplisbed diplomatist, the best that could pos-
bly have been found for such a court as that of
Jamefl. " He had as free access to the king ns
any cowrtier of them all, Buckingham only ex-
cepted; and the king took delight to talk with
him, for he was full of conceits, and would speak
faise liatin a pnrpose, in his merry fits, to please
the king ; telling the king plainly, ' You speak
Latin like a pedant, but I speak it like a gentle-
man.'"' While he could drink wine with his
majesty and the men, he could win the ladies of
the conrt by his gallantry and liberality; and it
is said that, in that sink of dishonour and immo-
rality, he intrigued with some of the highest
dames, and bribed some of the proudest nobles.
If the indiscretion of the king over his cups
were not enough, he had plenty of other keys to
the secrets of government. According to James's
own declaraljon, Gondomar " took great alarm,
and made vehement assertions, in repeated audi-
ences, that he had discovered the objects of the
expedition to be hostile and piratical, tending to
a breach of the late peace between the two

■ Arthw Wilnm.

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil J

D MiLITAKT.

crawD*." Baleigh drew up a memorial, iteting
thftt he intended to eul not for any Spanish pon-
■eMrioD, but for a country over which England
could daim a right lioth by priority of discovery
and ooDsent of the native* ; that there would be
no hofltile colliaioD with the Spaniards ; and that

■ print bf S. Pmi.

the arms and Boldiers be tAolc with him would
be solely for self-defence. According to James,
the ambaasador then eeeroed t« be aatiafied, ol>-
serving to Secretary Winwood, that if Raleigh
only meant to make a peaceful settlement, Spain
would offer no resistance. Thereupon the ener-
getic adventurer pressed the preparations for bia
eipeditioD, and his reputation and merit "brooght
manygentlemen of quality to venture their estates
and persons upon the design." Sir Walter ob-
tained from the Conntess of Bedford £S000,
which were owing to him, and Lady Raleigh sold
her estate of Mitcbam for ;£2S00i all of which
money he embarked in the adventure. Having
obtained ample information as to the couive he
intended to purene, end securities, in pereons of
wealth and rank, for his good behaviour and re-
turn, James granted his commiMion under the
privy seal, constituting Raleigh general and com-
nianderin-chief of the expedition, and governor
of the colony which he was about to found. On
the 28th of March, 1617, he set sail with a fli^t
of fourteen vesseja. The Datint/, in which ha
hoisted his flag, had on board 200 men, including
sixty gentlemen, many of whom were hie own or
his wife's relations. The voyage began inauapi-
doualy; the ehipe were driven by a storm int«
Uie Cove of Cork, where they lay till the month
of August. They did not reach the Cape de Yerd

Islands before October, and it was the 13th ai
November when they "recovered the land of
OuiaDa." During the long rough voyage, disease
had broken out among the sulore j forty-two men
died on board the admiral's ship alone, and Ba-
leigh suffered the most violent calenture that
ever niaa did and lived. But he wrote to his
wife, " We are still strong enough, I hope, to per-
form what ve have undertaken, if the diligent
care at London to make onr strength known to
the Spanish king by bis ambaassdor have not
tanght that monarch to fortify all the enbsooes
against us.* He was received by his old friends,
the Indians on the coast, with enthusiasm f but
he 800D learned that tiie Spaniards were np the
country, and prepared to dispute with him the
possession of it. Being himself so reduced by
sickness as to be unable to walk, he sent Captain
Keymls up the river Orinoco with five of the
ships, and took up his station with the rest at the
island of Trinidad, dose to the mouths of that
river. He had been given to understand that a
Spanish fleet was in the neighbourhood; and it is
quite certain that he intended not only to fight it
if challenged, but also to fight in order to pre-
vent it following Keymia up the river. Thia
brave captain, who had been for many years de-
voted to Baleigh, and had suffered many troublea
on his acoount, had explored the country where
the mine was utuated in IS99, and he was now
ordered to make direct for the mine, "tbe star
that directed them thither." If he found it rich
and royal he was to establish hinwelf at it; if
poor and unpromising, be was to bring away with
him a basket or two of ore, to convince the king
that the design was not altogether visionary.
Keymis began sailing np the riveron tbe 10th of
December. If we are to believe the English ac-
counts, the Spaniards began the war, and shot at
the ships boUi with their ordnance and moskeU,
which they were vary likely to do, even without
a reference to the exdusive pretension of sove-
reignty, from the recollectiom of the mode in
which the great Drake and other English oom-
manders had behaved, and that too when, as
now, there was no deduction of war between
England and Spain.' Keymis soon arrived off the
town of St. Thomas, which the Spaniards had re-
cently built on the right bank of the river; and
he iMided and took up a position between that
town and the mine. It is said that he had no
intention of attacking the place — we confeaa tha^
from a consideration of the circumstances, we

•"TBMlrmtlwtlml^t hn b* klnc Df Um Isdiui mm

■OiMj «Md » witb fradi mat, and >U tUl Um aaaatir jialA^
AU asu to ob^ UK."— Mur t» kU Wifu

• It m> u milom vlUi itUsn lgn( baftm ud loaf kftar tU
•o7>|i of RaMfh. thai th* tnUiet of Eorc^ lUil not (xteed

»Google

A.V. 1818—1621.] JAM

doubt tbe UMrtaon—and th&t the Spaniardii
brcAe ia upon bim by surprise, in tbe middle of
tbe ni^t, uid butchered many of hU people in
their sleep. In the morning the English as-
saulted tbe town sod forced their waj into it.
The fight wiB desperate : on one aide the gover-
nor, a near relation of the ambassador Ooadomar,
wss bIsid ; on the other tbe bnive young Captun
Walter Baleigh, tbe general's eldest son. This
yooDg Walter was the tme son of his father: he
cut down one of the chief officeis of the Span-
inrds, and wan cnt down himself in the act of
charing at the bead of hia own oompRny of pike-
men. Hia death Infuriated the English, who
loved him dearly; and, after mnch bloodshed,
they set fire to the bounes. All the Spaniards
that escaped retired to strong positions among
tbe hills and woods, to guard, as Baleigh snict,
the approaches to some mines they bad found in
the neighbourhood of St. Thomas, We cannot
help suspecting that the adventarers expected to
find and secure some rich priie, like what bad
lieen pounced upon by the Dnkes and Hawkinaea,
but all they really found in the captiiml and
destroyed town of St. Thomas were two ingota of
gold and four empty refining-houses. They Im'
mediately showed their disappointment and dis-
oontent, became mutinous and dangerous, and
Keymis, oppressed with grief for the loss of
young Baleigh, and confounded by their clamours
and conflicting projects, appears to have lost his
head. He, however, led them some way higher
np the river ; but, on receiving a volley from a
body of Spaniards lying in ambnsb, which killed
two and wounded six of his men, he retreated
and made all baste to join his chief. Their
meeting was drendfal: Baleigli, in angaish and
despair, aconsed Keymis of having undone him,
and mined bis creditfor ever. Thepoorcaptain
aiiswered, that when his son was lost, and he re-
fleeted that he had left the general himself ho
weak that he scarcely thonght to find him alive,
he had no reason to enrich a company of nscais,
who, after his son's death, made no account of
him. Baleigh, in tbe utter anguish of hia soul,
repeated bis charges. Keymis drew upadefence
of his conduct in a letter to the Earl of Arundel,
which be requested his commander to approve
ef; but, though some daya had been allowed to
elapse, BaJeigh was not yet in a humour to be
merciful to the brave friend of many years.
He refused to ugn the letter; he vented re-
proaches of cowardice or incapacity; and then,
Keymis retiring to his cabin, in the general's
ship, put an end to liia existence with a piat/^'

es I. S4g

and a knife.* All now was horror, confusion,
and mutiny in tbe fleeL Captain Whitney took
off his ship, and auled for Eng^nd, and Captain
Waollastnn went with him. Others followed —
"a rabble of idle raBcals'— and Sir Walter was
soon left with only five abipe. But the men that
remained were, for tbe most part, dashing, dar-
ing sailors, or desperate adventurers ; and these
men would have wished Baleigh to take a leaf
or two out of the book of tbe lives of some of
his predecessors (men honoured above all uavat
heroes in the annals of their country) ; and, tiiough
Raleigh rejected their plans of plunder, it appears
to have been after a struggle with the overwhelm-
ing feeling of hia utter desperation. With his
" brains broken," he sailed down the Noitb
American coast to Newfoundland, where he re-
fitted his ships. When they were ready for sea,
a fresh mutiny broke out, and Raleigh avowedly
kept them together by holding out tbe hope of
intercepting the treasure galleons. What fol-
lowed at sea is open to mnch donbt; but, in the
month of June, 1618, Sir Walter came to anchor
at Plymouth, where he was welcomed by the in-
telligence that there was a royal proclamation
against him. Oondomar, who had received in-
telligence of all that had passed on the Orinoco,
and of the death of bis kinsman, had rushed into
theroyalpresence, crying, "Pirates! pirates!" and
had so worked npon Jamee that the worst pos-
sible view of Raleigh's case was instantly adopted
at the English court, and a proclamation was pub-
lished, accusing him of scandalous ontragea in
infringing the royal commission, and inviting all
who could give information to repair to the privy
coancil, in order that he might be brought to
punishment; and, a few days after Raleigh's
arrival, Bnckingham wrote a most hnmble letter
to the Spanish ambassador, informing him that
they had got the offender safe, and bad seized
his ships and other property; that King James
held himself more aggrieved by the proceedings
than King Philip conid do; that all kinds of
property belonging to the subjects of the King of
Spain shonld forthwith be placed at his disposal ;
and that, though the ofi'endera could not be put to
death withont process of law, the King of Eng-
land promised that a brief and snmmai7 course
shonld be taken with them. As if this were not
enough, Buckingham concluded by saying that
the king, his master, would pttndtially ferform
hit promue by sending the otTenders iu be jikn-
fhed in Spain, nnless the King of Spain should
think it more satisfactory and exemplary that
they should receive the reward of their crimes in

lanittuhlniHlftii

hlmdf ints hto (kb)n. uiri itu

■hid) bntanwotliitt1b*:i

«U^ hs thnM m tons kaUt nndar hk dml
luidla. and <ll^"~Ra/n^'i Ztf/ir (s kli Wiit.
' Thh (triking eipnulDU li Hulaigli't Dwii, is

anploUw

,v Google

350

HI3T0RV OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

i MiLIT&RT.

Engluul: .ind he requested the ambaiBador
Bead an exprera mesaenger iato Spain, because
the king, liia master, would not have the vindi-
catioD of big affection to the King of Spain, or hia
sincere desire to do justice, long suspended. This
warmth of affection arose out of James's belief
that Philip was now quite ready t« bestow the
iufanta, with a large earn of readjf money, upon
Prince Charles.

The thirst of the Spaniards for Raleigh's blood
waa provoked by many causes besides the burn-
ing of the little tAwn of St. Thomas. He was
hated and feared as the ablest commander Eng-
land possessed.and one whose place it was thought
would not soon be supplied. It was remembered
how he had butchered the Spaniards in the sur-
rendered fort on the coast of Ireland, and the
feeble garrison on the coast of Guiana, at the
time of bis first voyage thither in 15M. There
were other bitter recollections of his exploits
with Essex among the Azores and the Canary
Islands, and Goudomar was eager te avenge the
death of hia kinsman. Sir Walter was fully
aware of his danger; his sailors had told him
that if he returned to England he would be un-
done; but, according to the testimony of his
younger son, Carew, given many years after his'
father's death, the Earls of Pembroke and Arun-
del had become bound for his return, and he had
therefore come to discharge his friends from their
heavy engagement, aud to save them from trouble
on his account. Upon landing at Plymouth, he
was arrested by Sir Lewis Stukely, vice-ad-
miral of Dover, and his own near relation, who
took him to the house of Sir Christopher Harris,
not far from that seaport, where he remaiued
more than a week. As he had returned and de-
livered himself up, Pembroke and Arandel were
released from their bond, and Sir Walter now
attempted to escape to France, but he failed
through his indecision, or— which is more pro-
bable—through the faithlessuew of his f^nts
and the vigilance of Stukely.

When he was carried forward from the coast
to be lodged again in the Tower, Sir Walter
feigned to be sick, to have the plague, to be mad;
and if what is related of him be tnie, which we
doubt, never did man play wilder or sadder
pranks to save bis Ufa Having gained a little
wretched time and the king's permission to re-
main a few days at his own house at London
before being locked up, he sent forward Captain
King, one of his old officers and friends, to secure
a bark for him in the Thames, in which be might
yet escape to the Continent He then followed
slowly to the capital, giving a rich diamond to
his loving kinsman Stukely, and some money to
one Manourie, a Frenchmen, Stukely's servant,
who both took the bribes, and promised to con-

nive at his escape. On reaching Ijondon, his
faithful friend, Captain King, informed him that
he had a bark waiting near Tilbury Fort; and
on that same evening Le Clerc, the French cbarg^
d'affiiires, sought him ont privately, and gave
him a safe-conduct to the governor of Caliun,
with letters of recommendation to other gentle-
men in France. On the following morning, as
he was descending the Thames, he was basely
betrayed by Stukely, who, to the last mranent,
pretended that he was assisting him through the
toils.' He was brought back to London, and se-
curely lodged in that wretehed prison where he
had aiready spent so many yeara, aud where he
was soon subjected to frequent examination by
a commission composed of the Archbishop of
Canterbury (Abbot), Lord-chancellor Bacon, Sir
Edward Coke, and some other members of the
privy council. He was chained, first, with hav-
ing fraudulently pretended that bis expedition
was to discover a mine, while his real object was
to recover his liberty, and commence pirate ;
secondly, that he intended to excite a war with
Spain ; thirdly, that he barbarously abandoned
his ships' companies, and exposed them unneces-
sarily to extreme danger; fourthly, that he had
spoken disrespectfully of the king's majesty; that
he had imposed upon the king by feigning sick-
ness and madness ; and lastly, had attempted to
escape in contempt of his authority. Baleigh
replied that his sincerity ss to the gold mine
was proved by his taking out refiners and tools,
at his own expense, "of not less than £W00;"
that the albir of St. Thomas was contrary to his
orders; that he never abandoned his men, or
exposed them to more danger than he under-
went himself ; that all that he had said of the king
was, that he was undone by the confidence he
had placed in bis majesty, and that he knew his
life would be sacrificed to state purposes. As to
hia feigning sickness and attempting to escape,
it was true, but natural and justifiable. As the
commissioners could gain no advantage over him
in these interrogatories, it was i«solved to place
a familiar or spy over him, who might ensnare
him into admissions and dangerous correspon-
dence. The person chosen for this detestable,
but at that time not uncommon office, was Sir
Thomss Wilson, keeper of the State Paper Office,
a learned, ingenious, base villain. If this Wilson
is to be credited, Kaleigh acknowledged that,
had he fallen in with the treasure -ships, he
would have made a prijie of them according to
the old principles which he had learned in the
school of Drake and Cavendish. To which my
lord- chancellor said, "Why, you would have
been a pirate," "01" quoth he, "did yon ever
' For th* pinicuUn of :ilHk(lf'( •llUlnr, tm ill. 1>tte-<

,v Google

A.D. leis-ieai.) jam

know of any that were pirates for milHomi I They
that work for amall things are pirates." Bacon's
palra must have itched aa he thaoffht of all this
gold, and perhaps, iu spite of James's fean, Ra-
leigh's fate would have been somewhat liiffereut
if he had retamed with the " millions," But as
things were, there waa no making a capital crime
of an intentioD ; nor could all the cunning, and
seal, and peraeverance of Sir Thomas Wilson ex-
tract or detect anything of the least consequence.
Aa it was fullj resolved that he should lose bis
head,' James ordered his council to deviw some
other means; and, on the 16th of October, Bacon
and Coke and the other commissioDers who had
examined him preaentMl two forms of proceeding
for his majesty's consideration. The one was to
■end hia death-warrant at once to the Tower,
only accompanying it with a narrative of Ra-
leigh's late offences, to be printed and published ;
the other form, to which they said they rather
inclined, aa being neartr to legal proceeding*, was
"that the prisoner should be called before a.
Muncil of state, at which the judges and several
of the nobility and gentlemen of quality should
be present; that some of the privy council should
then declare tiiat this form of proceeding was
adopted because he waa already civilly dead (in
coosequence of the sentence pronounced at Win-
cheater fifteen years befoi'e); that, after that, the
king's council should charge his acts of hostility,
depredation, abase of the king's commission, and
of his subjects under his charge, impostures, at-
tempts to escape, and other his misdemeanors:"
&nd they recommended that, after this change,
the "eiaminatioDs should be read, and Sir Walter
heard, and some peiaona ooufronted against him,
if need were ; and then he was to be withdrawu
and sent back, because no sentence could by lav
be given against him ; and, after he was gone, the
lords of the privy council and the judges should
(t^ve their advice whether upon these subsequent
offences, the king might not, with justice and
honour, ^ve warrant for his execution."' For
reasons not ei|dain«d, this latter form waa re-
jected, and the former alternative, somewhat
modified, was adopted; and a privy seal was sent
to the judges of the Court of King's Bench, di-
reeting them to order immediate execution of the
old sentence upon Sir Walter Raleigh. The
judges, cowardly and corrupt as they were, were
startled with the novelty and injustice of the
case, and a consultation of all the twelve judges
was held, whei-ein it was determhied that neither

■ Ht Thomu WllKD'i own MS. In Uu BUto Fspn- Office, ■
qaoMdbjUr. Tjtln, jCtCfo/JInl'iirt. II ipinti thH th> 8]>
bUi >Tiitnidor MpiMljr ihargrd Rkldgh nltli " [Biipooiidliig
tu hli tiaet to go and iiihmiit nnu oT tiM PI*ta (■ILmu."—
Kamaa,lMin.

< " OondoniiU' vHl Mwglia him <n« ttll iHhatti htalmd
off hH AoaUui."— Ibtd. • Cvl*T. W* i^Raltifk.

S I. 351

a writ of privy seal, nor a wamut under the
great seal, would be a sufficient authority, after
so great a lapse of time, to order execution with-
out calling upon the party to show cause against
it;' nnd, in the end, they unanimously resolved
that the legal course would be to bring the pri-
soner to the bar bya writ of haheat corput. Ac-
cordingly, such a writ was issued to the lieutenant
of the Tower, who, upon the 28th of October, at
an early hour of the morning, made Raleigh, who
was suffering from fever and ague (this time his
maladies were not feigned], rise from his bed and
dress himself. As soon as he whs brought to the
bar of the Court of King's Bench at Westmin-
ster, Sir Henry Yelvertou, the attorney-general,
said, " My lords. Sir Walter Raleigh, the pri-
soner at the bar, was, fifteen years since, con-
victed of high treason at Winchester; then he
received judgment to be hanged, drawn, and
quartered, but his majesty, of his abundant grace,
bath been pleased to show mercy unto him till
now, when justice calls upon him for execution.
Sir Walter Raleigh hath been a statesman and a
man who, in respect of his jiarts and quality, is
to be pitied; he hath been as a star at which the
world hath gazed; but stars may fall, nay, they
must fall when they trouble the sphere wherein
they abide. It is, therefore, his majesty's plea-
sure now to call for execution of the former judg-
ment, and I now require your lordships' order
for the same.' Then, the clerk of the crown
having first read the old conviction and judg-
ment, the prisoner was asked why exeention
should not be awarded. " My lords," said Ra-
leigh, "my voice is grown weak by reason of
sickness." Montague, the chief -justice, told him
his voice was audible enough. " Then, my lords,"
continued Raleigh with admirable composura,
"all I have to say is this: I hope that the judg-
ment which I received to die so long since can-
not now be stnuned to take away my life; for
since that judgment was passed it was his ma
jest/s pleasure to grant me a commission to pro-
ceed in a voyage beyond the seas, wherein I had
power, as marshal, over the life and death of
others; so, under favour, I presume I am dis-
charged of that judgment. By that commission
I gained new life and vigour; for he that hath
power over the live* of others, must surely be
master of his own. . . . Under my commission I
departed the land, and undertook a journey, to
honour my sovereign and to enrich his kiugdom
with gold, the ore whereof this hand hath found
- and token in Guiana; but the voyage, notwith-
I standing my endeavour, hart no other event but

'■Tor, it .H .ati
Jrntiment bolrif of »

w(i,U4iKiUrltjUT..

,v Google

»5S

HISTORY OF BNOLAND.

[Civil a

) Ml LI TART,

what wu fatal to me— the low of my son and
ths waitiDg of my whole estate." The chief-jus-
tice told him that he epoke uot to the purpose;
that hia voyage had nothing to do with the judg-
ment of death formerly given against him, which
judgment it wag now the king'* pleuauit:, upon
certain occauoDn beat known to himself, to have
executed ; that the commission given to him
could in no way help him, for by that he wai
not pardoned, nor was there any word tending to
pardon him in all thatcommiBsion;' that in cases
of treason there must be a pardon by expivw
wonls. To thia Raleigh replied, that, if such
was the law, he must put himself ou the mercy
of the king, and hope that he would be pleased
to have compassion. He then said, " Concerning
that judgment at Winchester passed so long ago,
I presume that most of you that hear me know
how that was obtained; nay, I know that his
majesty was of opinion that I had hard menaure
therein, and was so resolved touching that trial;
and if he bad not been anew exanperated against
me, certain 1 am, I might, if 1 could by nature,
have lived a thoasand and a thousand years be-
fore he would have taken advantage thereof."
The chief-justice told him that he had had an
honourable trial at Winchester (and honoui-able '
it was to Raleigh.'); that for fifteen years he had i
been as a dead man in the law, and might at any
minute have been out olf, had not the king, in
mercy, spared him. " You might justly thmk it
heavy," he continued, " if you were now called to
execution in cold blood; but it is not so; for neie
offtncet have ttirrtd up hi* truyuiyi jiitltce to re-
vive lahat Ihe lam hath formeriy graWtif. (This
was admitting what Raleigh said, and wliat all
the world knew.) And afler praying God to
have mercy ou his soul, he ended with the fatal
words—" Execution is granted.' The uudaunteil
victim then b^ged for a short respite to settle
his affairs, and for the use of pen, ink, and paper,
' *'expreu aomethiDg,''and to discharge him-

ing (October the 29th) he was waited upon by
Dr, Tounson, dean of Westminster, appointed by
the oourt to give him ghostly consolation; for fa«
was not allowed to clioo«e his own minister.

Thi OiTmoinl. WtilmiisTiii,'— From ■ print bj Ttitu*

This dean administered the sacrament, which lie
took very reverently, declaring that he forgave
all men, even his rektive Sir Lewis Stukely,
who had so basely betrayed him. It has beeo
well said of Raleigh, by a contemporary, that be
nther loved life than feared death— the reverse,
we believe, being generally the case with inferior
minds. He would have lived on for the beauty
of this visible world, of which, as a traveller, he
had seen so much; for the science and the litera-
ture he cultivated; for the grand schemes of dis'
covery he indulged in to the last; for his wife
sud dear boy. Bat as soon as he felt his doom
to be inevitable, he made up his mind to meet it

self of "some worldly trust;' " snd 1 beseecli with alacrity and cheerfulness. He breakfasted
yon,* he said, "not to think that I crave this to heartily, smoked a pipe of tobacco after it, aa
gain oue minute of life; for now, being old, sickly, i was his usual practice, and when they brought
disgraced, and certain to go to death, life is ; him a cup of good sack, and asked him how he
wearisMDe unto me.' The gentle James had the liked it, he said, gwly, that it was good drink if
barbarity to refuse the brief respite; but pen, a man might tarry by it. It was mercifully ar-
ink, and papei- were allowed, or procured from ranged at court that be should be beheaded i«-
the humanity of the jailer. Sir Walter, instead gter.d of being hanged, drawn, and quartered,
of being carried back to the Tower, was conveyed I At about eight o'clock in the morning he was

to the Gatehouse at Westminster, where, in tlie

evening, his affectionate wife twtk her last fare. > Tiik prism, vUdi obuiiwd miKb oihbnt)' during tiw dTii
well. At an early hour on the followins mom- """^ "" ""i™"' of ths inumntiDD of » minr cmiaatit ma

^ 1 . __ _2 witbin llm wilU. w« mtrtdd Id the rsi«ii of Sdmrd 111., ud

■ "TlwaldHnl«ca,''HT>Hinr6U, -■tillUodannuliigiliiit "" origlnill; ths ptindpul typniit (a tbi ic '
him, ■biota htmild lanit gAatl bjpankui, uolwIthUuidiiiS I niDiuatetj at WatminMcr, from thaopen q:
Uut ba nulnlT Ubound is Itbafbra h< w«at^ but bli m^at; , watom lonn of tbe ibbej.
anild MTU ba bnnffat Colt; Ibr h« Hid h* would kmptbii u I UiaUcaJ prUcm ibomjaf

»Google

A.D. 1616-1631.] JAM

conveyed to the scAffuld erected in Old Rilace
Yftrd, Weatminater, where an immense crowd
wsB collected, including laKoy grent lords ftod
courtien, and no doubt ladies— for it was com-
mon then for high-born daiuea to attoud these
scenes of blood. There was so great s press that
it was with difficulty the sheriffs and their men
could get him through. Wheu Sir Walter van
npon the acaSbtd he sainted, with a cheerful
connlenauc^ the lords, knights, and geotlemPD.
He then b^;ui to speak, and, perwiviug a win-
dow where the Lords Arundel, Northamptou,and
Doncaster were seated, he said he would strain
his voice, for he would willingly have them hear.
But my Lord of Arundel ssid, "Nay, we will
rather come down to the scaffold." And this he
and some others did; and theu Baleigh, after
saluting them one by one, continued to speak.
He thanked God heartily that be had brought
him to die in theligbt,and not left him to perish
obaeorely in the dark priaon of the Tower, where
for so many years he had been oppressed with
many miseries: be denied, by all his hopes of
salvation, that ha ever had any plot or intelli-
gence with fVance; tjiat he had ever spoken dis-
honourably or diBloyally of his sovereign. He
solemnly aaserled, that in going to Guiana be
knew tiiat the mine he spoke of really ex-
isted, and that it was his fall intent to search for
gold for the benefit of his majesty and himself,
and of those that ventured with him, together
with the rest of his countrymen. Theu, after
defending himself at some length against other
charges, he spoke about the fall and death of the
gallant Essex, by which he knew he bad lost the
favour of the people, and which (as we believe)
weighed heavily on his soul in spite of his
denial of having hastened that eiecntion. Then
ihe dean of Westminster asked him in what
faith he meant to die ; and Raleigh said in the
futhprofeaaedbytheChurcbof England. "Then,
before be should say his prayers, because the
morning was sharp, the sheriff offered him to
bring bim down ofT the scaffold to warm him-
self by a fire. ' No, good Ur. Sheriff,' said he,
' let ns despatch, for within this quarter of
hoQT mine ague will come npon roe, and if I be
not dead before then, mine enemies will say that
I qoake for fear." So he made a most admirable
pmyer, and then rose np and clasped his hands,
saying, " Now I am going to Qod.* He theu
took his leave of the lords, knights, and gentle-
men. Though so ready to die, he was anxi
for the fame that should survive him ; and
tHdding farewell to the Earl of Arundel, he
treated him to desire the king that no scandnloua
writing to dehme him might be published after
his det^h. He poised the axe, felt its edge, and
then aaU, witk a atnil^ "This ia a sharp medi-
VowU.

353

cine, but it will cure all diseases." He Itud his
neck across the block; the executioner hesitated;
What dost thou feart" said hei "strike, man!"
The headsman struck, and at two blows severed
the neck of the soldier, sailor, statesman, poet —
the universal Raleigh, who wss then in the sixty-
seventh year of his age : —

" Et« mch k T1bi« that Uk« on tniM

One jaitb, ma ^ajm, mr nil n bin

Who, In thg dtrk Hid lilaiil grtn,
Shou iv (bg (toT of our d^a."'

King James made a merit of this execution with
the court of Spain: the people set it down to his
eternal diagiace.

The death of Sir Walter Raleigh wss soon fol-
lowed by that of Queen Anne, who bad interceded
warmly bnt in vain in bis favour; and by a war
into which James found himself dragged, in spite
of bis sout.

The country of Bohmuia, surrounded on all
sides by mountains, was occupied by an intereat-
ingpeople, a branch of the great Slavonian fa-
mily of nations. The Ctecbes, or Bohemians, as
they were called in the rest of Europe, main-
tained their independence, and were governed by
elective king of their own choosing till the
year IfiiS, when the house of Austria, a house
which has gained more by fortunate marriages
than by arms, obtained tbe sovereignty through
nnion of Ferdinand I. with the daughter
of Lewis IL Long before this event, sects had
n in the country inimical to the Church of
Some: Couiad Stekna, John Milicz,andHathiBS
Janowa, between the middle and the end of the
fourteenth century, had raised their voices against
some fundamental doctrines, for which the pope
proceeded againat them ss heretics. The reader
will remember that our unfortunate King lUch-
ard IT. manied a Bohemian princess, the good
Queen Anne, as she was affectionately called by
the English. At her death in 1394, many per-
BOUB of her household who had accompanied her
from her native country, retunied thither, and
contributed to spread the doctrines of our first
reformer Wyckliffe. At the same period, a con-
siderable intercourse exieted between the univer-
sities of Prague and Oxford. English students
occasionally frequented the former— Bohemian
students the latter. Hieronymns of Prague, the
friend of John Huss, and in the end his compa-
nion at the stake, is supposed tA have returned
from Oxford about the year 1400. He probably
assisted Huaswhen,tihartty after, that Reforroer
translated all the works of Wyckliffe. Husa was
burned in 1414 by sentence of the council of Con-
stance, but his opinions survived him, and when

Google

354

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civn. AND UlUTABT.

Luther began his greHt work about a century
after, the mftjrarity of the Bohemian a became
ready converts. The religious feelings allied
themselT«a with the hereditary hostility which
exUted between the Slavoniaa and the German
races, and with their nationalitj and jealousy oF
the house of Anstria, which remained ateadfiwt
in its attachment to the Koman chnrcli.' There
followed a aeriea of insurrections and sanguinary
conflicts; but in the year 1609, the Emperor Ro-
dolph conceded the boon of religions freedom to
Bohemia. This treaty was not very religiously
observed by Kodolph's successor; hut at the same
time, it mast be allowed that the Protestant Bo-
hemians were not satisfied with a simple tolen,-
tion; their aim and object was to establiah their
own faith as the only or the dominant church,
and to snatch their old Slavonian crowii out of
the gnsp of the Tudesque house of Austria The
latter aim wm natural and honourable, but un-
fortunately the Protestant Bohemians had not
all adopted the same branch of the Reformation;
some were Lutherans, some Calvinists; and these
sections hated each other as much as they did
the pope. The Catholics also were still numer-
ous, and included some of the noblest families.
Hence the national cause wsa sacrificed, for the
people ware divided against themselves. The
Calvinists, the most numerous or the boldest,
began the quarrel this time by seizing some lands
which belouged to the Catholic Archbishop of
Prague and the abbot of Brunaw. The arch-
bishop and the abbot appealed to the emperor,
who gave a deusion in their favour. Thereupon
the Calvinists deliberated during two whole days,
and upon the third (the 23d May, 1618) they re-
paired well armed to the castle of Prague, where
the council of state was sitting, and, after some
altercation, flung Hartinitz Slavatta and Philip
Fabriciua, members of the council and zealous
Papists, out of the windows into the castle ditch.
Immediately after their unceremonious ejection
Count Thuni, the leader of the insurrection, de-
livered a spirited harsngue to the people. The
Calvinists to a man flocked round the national
banner; but the Lutherans and the Catholics re-
mained loyal to the house of Austria, or were
neutral. In a very short time moat of the for-
tresses were taken, two armies were raised, a
manifesto was published, and a provisional go-
vernment established. The old Emjwror Ma-
thiaa offered ao amnesty, and proiiosed that the
grounds of the quarrel should be referred to the
amicable arUtration of the two Catholic Electors

■ BomainteTHAlJif infbrtDMtinnngArdliif tlietiittoTTof nligiQii
mmonftlH DiAsniui*, uul Dth«r tni^lanf tlui HlironlanMiKli,
Iiu been flTn ^ tlis Ut* Connt t'llcriui Kruintlil. ■ PolUh
eilllpinUufllwlTDlmmof hU Hi^nrirnl Slrlrh ^ lit Kim. Pm-

of Mentz and Bavaria, and the two Proteatant
Electors of Baxony and the Palatinate; bnt the
Bohemians, who were greatly encouraged by see-
ing tlie insurrection spread into the provinces of
Lusatia, Silesia, and Moravia, rejected the ^ro-
posal. The old emperor died at the end of the
year, and was succeeded by his cousin, Ferdinand
II., a weak and bigoted priuce. The Bohemians
reviving the old principle, that their crown wa«
elective, that their sovereign was to be chosen
by themselves, offered the dangerous honour to
two of the princes who had been selected by the
emperor as arbitrators — flrst to John Geoi^,
Elector of Saxony, who refused it, and then to
the Elector Palatine. The Palatine Frederick,
withoat making a proper estimate of his means
to resist the great confederacy of the Catholics
and the house of Austria, and blindly counting
upon the asMstance of his father-in-law, the King
of England, as chief of the Protestant interests,
accepted the invitations of the Bohemians, or
rather of the Calvinist insurgents, hastened with
his family to Prague, and was crowned on the
4thof November, 1619.* Frederick had declared
that the finger of God was made visible in hia
election ; the Protestants abroad considered it as
a great and glorious victory obtained over the
Papists, and the encroaching spirit of the house
of Austria. In England nobody looked coolly at
the question as a political one : Abbot, the pri-
mate, declared that the Palatine ought to follow
where God led him, and the mass of the people
thought that a holy war ought to be made to
secure him in posseaaiou of the kingdom of Bo-
hemia. In a short time, the cry for war spread
throughout Scotland and England, and became
louder and louder, when news arrived that im-
mense preparations Wei's making by the Catholic
powers to drive Frederick not only from Bohe-
mia, but aim out of his hereditary dominions.
James was astounded, and gored by the boms of
several dilemmas. Could he, who had declared,
written, and preached against the transfer of
crowns on religious pretexts, and by the will of
the people and popular revolutions, assist the
Bohemians agninst their lawful sovereign lord
the emi^erorl But could he, on the other hand,
remain quiet end see his son-in-law mined) — tha
inheritance of the children of his only daughter
swallowed upl Could he, as a Protestant mon-
arch, witness the aggrandizement of the Catholic
poweraf But, on the other side, what sympathy
could he feel with Calvinistst If he assisted hia
son-in-lnw, he should lose that Spanish danght«r-
in-kw elect, and that rich dower hia heart had

lis hid dmiatilioii to En gland to ooiuuH "ith Jania^ "bo irinlj-
|i»|ilia>ii>J fram (ha begionlng. that tha miilartiklDi woold
miaEan?, •iid Inroli-a hta ami'lB-Uw lo nia ud di^m.

,v Google

AD. 1618-1821.]

JAM

I 1.

355

BO Jong fearned aft«r. If he ehoald euter into
tbe war witbout money ia his treasury, without
khipa in hia oraenala, what chance had he of euc-
cees? But then, on the othei* aide, in the inflamed
state of hia aubjecta' miuds, would it be safe for
him to try to remain at peace t He procraati-
nated, equivocated, «nd dinlfled. He told the
Froteatant envoys from Oermauy and Bohemia,
that he would asnuredly support the tc ue faith,
and aid hia dear son: he told Gondomar that the
FaJgrave was a villain, an. usurper, and he gave
his royal woi'd that he would not aHaiat him and
the confederate priucea. But when, while Fre-
derick waa in hia new kingdom, the Catholica fell
might and main upon tbe Lower Falatiuste, the
cry of indignntiou in England was bo terrifying
that be was obliged to do something more than
talk, and, without flyiug in the face of hia prin-
ciples, he thought he might aaaiat hia son-iii-lnw
in bis own patrimonial states, if he meddled not
with Bohemia- After sendiug smbaaaadors to
Bruaaela and Madrid on negotiations that proved
altogether fruitless, he raised and equipped 40(K)
vo1unt«ers, who, under the command of the Earls
of Oxford and Esaez, and Sir Horatio Vere, pro-
ceeded by HoUand and tbe Rhine to the Palati-
nate. This force was too amall and too late to
be of any service; but iu the raising of it James
had completely exbauated hia means and hia
credit; and he found binibelf again driven to the
hard necessity of thiukiug about a parliament.
IflSl Ji>ines summoned a parliament
' U> meet on the Ititb of January,
taking care to give in hia proclamation aa many
imconatitutional directions or commands, touch-
ing what Bort of members the people should
elect, aa he had done in 1604. At the same time,
he warned the people not "to presume to talk or
write saucily of the arcana imperii, or state
afiairs." ' The Beaaion did not actually commence
till the 30th of January, when James delivered
what was meant to be a very conciliatory speech.
He gave promises of better government for the
future, and then with a bold face asked for li-
beral supplies to carry on war in tbe Falatinate.
The commons weie ready enough to vote supplies
for this popular war, but, before giving their
maney,they requested the king to be more rigoi--
oua vrith i-egard U> tlie Fapists, upon whom they
laid the blame of the miscarriages in Bohemia,
and they asked satiafaction for the imprisonment
of four of their members at the cloae of the last
parliament. James promised in general terms
to attend to their requests ; and on the I5th of
Febraaiy they voted two subsidies. The oom-
moDB then proceeded to attack tbe patent mono-
polisle, who robbed the people and shared their
spoils with the government or with the courtiers.

Sir Giles Mompeaaon, and hia partner Sir Francis
Mitchell, a justice of peace, were particularly
obnoxious. Mompeaaon, seeing that the court
had abandoned him as a scapi^oat, fled beyond
sea ; Mitchell waa taken, voted by the commons
to be incapable of being in the comminsion, and
seut by them to the Tower. As the lords had
never shown any alacrity in the correction of
abusea, the lower house had taken all this upon
theouelvea, and in so doing had clearly exceeded
their jurisdiction. Coke, who was not without
a. hope of implicating Bacon with Mompesson,
took a deal of trouble with the caae, and proved
to the commons that the proper mode of con-
ductiug it would be by joining with the lords
in an impeachment. The commons then re-
quested a conference, at which they informed
the other house generally as to the offence, and
then the lords, taking upon themselves the in-
quiry, and becoming aatisfied of tbe guilt of the
parties, sent for the commons and delivered judg-
ment, which WHS, that Mompesson and Mitchell
should be degraded from tbe honour of knight-
hood, fined, and imprisoned. James, who had
been frightened out of endesvoura he waa mak-
ing to save them, came forward to express his
detestation of their offence, and to increase the
severity of their puniahnient. By a very unusual
exercise of the prerogative, it was settled that
Sir Giles should be banished for life. Sir Henry
Velverton, the attorney-general, who was con-
nected with the illegal practices, and who boldiy
chaiged Buckingham at tbe iiar of the lords witL
being a partaker in them, was condemned to two
heavy fines and imprisonment for life. The ball,
once set a-going down such a foul and slippery
declivity, waa not likely to stop soon. Sir John
Bennet, judge of tbe prerogative court, waa im-
peached for corruption in Iiis office ; and Doctor
Field, now Bishop of LlaudafT, waa inijieached
for being concerned in a matter of bribery in the
Chancery Court. The Lord -chancellor Bacon,
whose own hour was coming, anid truly that cor-
ruption was the vice of the time. Within not
many daysafter,Bacon was impeached himself for
corruption in his high office. Coke took a pro-
minent share in this business; but Buckingham
wanted the seals for hia creature, Bishop Wil-
liams. A report of a committee of the lower
house to inquire into abuses in the courts of jus-
tice, reconimeuded proceedinga against the lord-
chancellor. Viscount St. Alban's' — and the com-
mons, having been told by the king to proceed
fearleasly, chaiged him before the lords with
twenty-two several ads of bribery and corrup-
tion. A constitutional timidity, united with a
of guilt, or still more, perhaps, the

>a tb* XTth oUtmuitj of lUi «

;l»of Vlnut Bt. Albmiil

,v Google

356

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil ahd Miutart.

certainty ti»t the cunK htul devoted him to rain,
made Baocm'a heart imk vithiii him. Ha took
to hie bed, wrote an affecting letter to the lords,
and prayed for time that he mi^ht recover from
his riekneas, and prepare hie defence. He was
gratified in thia respect, for the two hoiines ad-
journed from the 27th of March to the ITtli of
April. In that interval the falling chancellor
was admitted to an audience of the king. On
the Slth of April, a week after the re-assembling
of parliament, Bacon sent his eabmieaion, and a
confession in general terms, to the lords, which,
it appears, was presented by Prince Charles.
His humble submission, he said, come fiom a
wasted spirit and oppressed miud, from the
midat of a state of as great afBiction as a mortal
man might endure, honour being above life. Still,
he continued, he found gladness in some things:
the first being, " that hereafter the greatness of
a jndge or magistrate shall be no sanctuary or
protection to him agiuust guiltiness, which is the
beginning of a golden work. The next ; after
this example, it is like that judges will fly from
anything in the likenes<i of corruption (though
it were at a great distance] as from a serpent ;
which tends to the puif^ng of the courta of jus-
tice, and reducing them to their true honour and
splendour." He hoped that the peers would be-
' hold their chief pattern, the king— "a kin
incomparable clemency, and whose heart whs
inscrutable for wisdom and goodness— a prince
whose like hod not been eeen tltese hundred
years, a prince who deserved to be made memo-
rable by records of acta mixed of mercy and jus-
tice.' He told them that corruption and bribery
were the vices of the time, and that any refoiTn
wonid in the beginning be attended with danger.'
He reminded their lordahipe of their noble feel-
ing and loving affections towards him as a mem-
ber of their own body, and concluded his re-
markable letter with these words; — "And there-
fore my humble suit to your lordships is, that
my penitent submission may be my sentence, the
loss of my seal my puuishment, and that your
lordships would recommend me to his majesty's
grace and pardon lor all that is past. Ood's holy
spirit be among you."' But the loi'ds were not
satisfied with this submission, humble as it was,
nor with his general and vague confession; and
though they excused him from appearing as a
criminal at their bar, they exacted from him
a distinct confession to all the charges speci*
fically brought agaJDat him. He then wrote and
signed a confession of particulars ; and to a de-

■ Whfln th« ttma fuinl fttt&ek flnt bogui, Daotm wrata to
(bfklnf :— "I bo|iflI ihAll not beftnnd tohAT* Ih* tmobUd
fimilalD at ■ onnt* iMut, In • dipiiTad hibn ol taklnf »-
■■rdi to pinwt Jmtlea, bowmt, I nAj ba tttil, uid partaJct

pntation of the lords, who waited upon him to
know whether this paper was his own volnutary
act, he aaid, with tears, "It is my act~~my band
— my heart. O, my lords, spate a broken reed."
On the 30th of April his second confeesioa was
nod in the lords, who, on the 3d of May, informed
the lower house that they were ready to pro-
DouDce sentence against the late lord-ehaucel-
lor. So the house went up, and the speaker
demanded judgment. The lord chief - justice
(sitting as speaker in the higher hoose) aaid
that the lords bad duly considered of the oom-
plaints presented by the commons against the
Lord Verulom, Viscount SL Alban's, late lord-
chancellor, and had found him guilty, as well
by oath of witnesses as by his own confessiou, of
those and many other corruptions, for which they
hod sent for him to come and answer; and upon
his sineera protestation of sickness, they, admit-
ting his excuse of absence, had yet, notwithstand-
ing, proceeded to his judgment, namely— that
he be fined .£4U,000; to be impriwined in the
Tower during the king's pleasure ; made incapai-
ble to bear olHce in the commonwealth; never to
sit in parliament ; nor to come within the verge,
which is within twelve miles, of the conrt.' Bacon
had not ^40,000— so steadily hod liis expense
kept pace with his increasing income that he
probably had not 40,000 pence. James was
pleased to remit the fine, which he never could
have paid, and to liberate him from the Tower
after a pro forntd impriBonment of two days.
Such a man could not be without his friends and
admirera— even in thrHouse of Commons, Sit
Edward Sackville and others adventured to speak
in hifl favour; and, apart from politicians and
courtiera, there were, no doubt, many high and
honest minds that revered the philosopher, the
wit, the scholar, though they condemned and de-
spised the chancellor. It is, at all events, a sort
of consolation to know that, when Bacon took
his departure from the verge of the court, a beg-
gared and disgraced man, he was not wholly for-
saken even in that time-serving generation. On
that day, as Prince Charles was returning from
hunting, "he espied a coach, attended with a
goodly troop of horsemen,' who it seems were
gathered together to wait upon the chancellor to
his house at Oorbambury, at the Ume of his de-
clension. At which the prince smiled; "Well,
do we what we can," said he, "this man scorns
to go out like a snuff," He had inscribed hia
name on the scroll of the immortals — he had
written his greatest works before his lall: bts
HiMvry of Henry Vll., and some other thing*,
were produced after his di^race. If he had sa-
tisfied himself with these ennobling pursuits — if
he hsd remained quiet in the beautiful solitudes

»Google

A.D. 1B18-16S1.] JAM

of Qorhambnry, which lie like a piece of Ftira-
diae under the ancient town of St. Alban's, he
would have risen iabi reapect, even peraonally,
from the moment he fell from power; bvt BO meaa
was thia great man'a aoul — ho dependent was he
for bis gratifications on money, and place, and
oourt honour, that he struggled and begged in-
cewaotly, and wrote the moat humiliating of
letters for the light of the king's countenance,
for a pension, for some fresh employment. At

Fiom Bnutwa at Eii^nd wid Wiilv.

times his baseness and flattery were closely allied
to impiety. He wrote, for example, to the prince,
that he hoped, as his father, the kin)^, had been
his creator, so he, the son, would be his re-

The coDunona had scarcely made this session
memorable by the impeachment of high delin-
quents, when they proceeded to make it disgrace-
fnl by a spiteful and meanly tyrannical prosecu-
tion— a glaring instance of vulgar, savage intol-
erance. There was one Edward Floyde, a Ca-
tholic of good family, a prisoner in the Fleet for
debt or Popery, or both, who Borely ofTended
Protestant ears by rejoicing at the success of the
Catholic arms against the new King of Bohemia,
or by saying simply (for this was the burden of
the matter), that Prague was taken, and Good-
man Palgrave and Goodwife Palgrave had taken
to their heels. For thia offence, which was not
worthy the attention of the pettiest court, the
commons, in a headlong fury, sentenced him to
pay a fine of .£1000, to stand in the pillory in
three different places, and to be carried from
place to place on a horse without a saddle, and
with his face turned to the tail. But the next
day the chancellor of the exchequer delivered a
ntesMge from the king, tilling the commons that
his majesty thaaked them for their leal; but lest

3,57

it should transport them ti
would have them reconsider whether they should
sentence one who did' not belong to them, and
who had not offended against their house or any
member of it ; and whether they could sentence a
denying party without the oath of witnesses.'
Nothing could well be clearer than that the
commons had exceeded their jurisdiction, as
they had so recently done, and confessed it,
too, in the case of Sir Giles Mompesson ; but,
now, instead of yielding the point,
they debated it long and loudly, and
persisted in their first vote. James,
who for once was perfectly right, asked
them to show precedents — they had
none to show. The lords requested a
conference: and this, with the declara-
tion of Noye, that the matter of judi-
cature clearly remained with the up-
per house, led the commons to yield.
The difference waa merely between the
two honaes— a conflict of privileges:
but lords and commons were alike ready
to be unmerciful to the poor offender ;
and the lords, " to keep up a good un-
derstanding between the two houses,"
augmented the severity of the original
sentence. The fine of ilOOO waa raised
to £0000. Whipping at the cart's tail
from the Fleet to Westminster Hall
waa added to the infamous punishment of the
pillory : Floyde waa to be degraded from his
rank of a gentleman, to be held an infamous
person, and, as a climax to all thia brutality
and injustice, he was to be imprisoned in New-
gate for life. Prince Charles, to bia honour,
interfered and obtained the remission of the
whipping; but the unfortunate man, it appears,
underwent the rest of the atrocious sentence.

The king considered that he had done a great
deal to conciliate the commons in thia session,
but stilt there waa no prospect of their voting
the freah auppliea which he needed. Therefore,
on the 24th of May, as they were going on in
full career with other bills for reformation of
abuses,for the checking of Popery, 4c., he unex-
pectedly announced his intention of proroguing
the parliament nt the end of the week. The
commons petitioned for a longer time. The king
offered them a fortnight, which they considered
too little; and the parliament was prorogued to
November, by commission, after a unanimouF
declaration made by the commons, of their reso-
lution to spend their lives and fortunes for the
defence of the Protestant religion and the Pala-

»Google

358

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and UiuTAitr.

It woB indeeil Unie to be Btirriog if they meant
to keep the Palatine from utter min. In the
mouth of November of the preceding ;ear (1620)
the ImperialiatB and the Spaniards, commanded
by bia own relative, but bitt«r enemy and rival,
the Duke of Bavaria, and by the famous Tilly,
gained a decisive victory over him in the neigh-
bourhood of Prague, drove him from that city,
where he had been king twelve monthB all but
three days, took all his artillery, ba^^^kge, stan-
dards, and a great treasore. He fled with his
vife and children to Breslau, leaving the heads
of his party in Prague to be victims to their en-
raged enemies. From Breslau he got to Berlin,
and thence to the Hague in HoUand. During
this flight the fair and captivating Elizabeth of
England, who was styled the " Queen of Hearts"
when she could no longer be called Queea of
Bohemia, was far advanced in pr^nancy. The
princes of the IVotestant uuion, to whom the
Palatine had intrusted the defence of his patri-
monial poasessioDB during his absence in Bohe-
mia, were no match for the great Italian general
Spinola, with his army of "old tough blades"' and
veteran commanden. They lost town after town,
and were constantly oiit-mantcuvred or beaten by
very iuferior forces. The 4000 English were far
too few, and their generals too unxkilful, to turn
the fortune of the war. The petty princes were
jealous of each other; and when they were all put
to the ban of the empire, they began to abandon
as hopeless the cause of the Palatine, who soon
found himself left alone in the war, with no
other means at his disposal than the weak Eng-
lish force and two free corps commanded by a
younger sou of the house of Brunswick and Count
Mauefeldt. The English threw themselves iuto
Heidelberg, Manheim, and Frankendael. Sir
ArthurCliichester, one of the envoys, said phvinly,
that the English army should have been greater
or none at all; but James bad neither the means
nor the steady wish to increase it He fancied
that he could reinstate his sou-in-law, and make
up all those differences — which eventually mn
into the " Thirty Years' war," the starting point
being Bohemia— by his skill in diplomacy; and
he continued to send ambassadors in all direc-
tions. The Earls of Bbsei and Oxford, who had
returned from the Palatinate, said that the only
way to recover tliat country was by force of arms ;
and the English people not only believed them,
but joined in their complainta that the money
which ought to be sjient in retrieving the na-
tional honour was wasted in inglorious idlings.
The discnntentB of these two noble commanders,
and of the Earl of Soutliampton, gave rise to
a great political novelty — a spirited opjxraition
to the court in the House of Lords.

During the rec«8t, James abolished, by pro-
unation, thirty-six of the most oppressive of
the patents and monopolies, and adopted regula-
tions for the improvement of foreign commerce.
These measures might have pat the nation in good
humoui- hnt for other circumstances that tended
to produce a very diflerent effect. The piiat«8
of Algiers and other ports on the African coast
had for some years been very tronblesoine to all
the flags of Europe, James proposed that the dif-
ferent Christian powers should unite to destroy
the pirates' chief nest, Algiers, and hum oil their
ships. Bpain, whose subjects had suffered most,
engaged to co-operate; but when the time came,
they fell short of the promised supply, and Sir
Robert Mansell sailed to Algiers with an insuf-
ficient force and a cramped commission, by which,
it should ^)pear, he was ordered by the timid,
needy King of England notto risk hisships. On
the S4th of May Uanaell sailed up to the port,
and the English sulors soon set tire to the ships
and galleys; but they had scarcely retired when
the Algerinesput out the flames, recovered their
ships, brought down artillery, mounted batteries
on the mole, and threw booms at^ross the har-
bour mouth. We may safely calcniate that Man-
sell did not much expose himself or his fleet, for
he lost only eight men in the whole affair, and
brought back all his ships uudamaged.' This
was clearly another ease where mure ought to
have been done or nothing at all. The pirates
turned their whole fury against the flag of James,
and, within a few mouths, thirty-live English
merchantmen were captured by them, and the
crews sold as slaves. Thecountry wasfllled with
bitter and just complaintn, when, in the month
of November, the parliament re-assembled. Tlie
king lay at Royston, under a real or feigned sick'
ness; but, by his ordeis, Lord Digby, at a con-
ference of the houses, explained his bootless
embassies into Germany for the recovery of the
Palatinate, which he plainly hinted was now
hopeless unless by means of English arms and
English money. Lord Cranfield, the treasurer,
told the commons that, to maintain a sufllcient
force in that country for one year would requin
£!KK),UOO: all that the commons would vote was
one subHidy, which would make about ^70,000!
They had every ground for believing that the
money would have been applied to other purpo-
ses than the Protestaut war ; and they knew that
Jamra was, at the very moment, engaged in a
treaty with Bpaia to get for his son a Catholic
wife. And, indeed, it required some uncommon
faculty to discover how James should wag« a
tierce war with the whole house of Austria (for
Spain had been as active as the empeivr against
his son-iu-law) and intermarry with that hooae

»Google

A.i>. 1618—1621.} JAM

at one and the same time. The eommonB, mmre-
orer, and not a few of the lords, were exaape-
mtedb)rfreahBb«t«he8of theprerogatirs. Since
the adjonmmBnt the Earls of Oxford and South-
ampton, Sutcliff, denn of Exeter, Brise, a Puritan
preacber. Sir Chriittopher Neville, Sir Edwin
SandfB, who waa a botd-Bpokeu luember of the
lower house, and the ffreat constitutional lawyer
and antiquary Selden, who had been in prison
before for differing in opinion with the king and
the bisbop« in the matter of tithea, had all been
arbitrarily arrested ; and Coke, whose patriotic
TJgonr increased with his years and hit disap-
pointments at court, and who had boldly esponsed
the country party — aa the popular party was
called— in the preceding session, had been ex-
posed to a prooecntion for various ofFbnces and
malpractices committed when he was a judge.'
It was felt l^ the commons that all this severity
had been provoked fay the exprMsion of liberal
opinions; and, putting aside Coke, though not
until tJiey attempted to prove that there was a con-
s|Mracy against him, they stood by the only other
memberof their house. Sir Edwin Sandya, (against
whom there were no legal proceedings), and, as
he was uck in bed, they sent two members to wait
upon him and hear from his own mouth the cause
ot his arbitrary arrest. Together with intelli-
gence of these proeeedings, James received infor-
mation respecting a petition, proposed by Coke
in the commons, against the growth of Popery
and the Catholic marriage of the Prince of Wales,
and for the vigorous proeecution of the war in the
Palatinate. The petition encountered a strong op-
position in the house; those who supported it
were fain to agree to the insertion of a clause
that "they did not mean to press on the kinf^s
most undoubted and royal prerogative;" and it
neither passed nor was very likely to pass when
James, proud of hie finding the commons in error
in two caaes in the preceding session, inflated
by his extravagant notions of prerogative, and
enraged and transported ont of all discretion by
this bold intermeddling with tiis arcana imperii,
addressed a most absolute letter to Sir Thomas
Etichardson, the speaker of the House of Com-
mons.

The house received this letterwith leas warmth
than might have been expected; but they were
prompt in their resolution to resist the proposi-
tions it contained. They drew up a remonstrance,
in firm but respectful language, telling the king
that they could not conceive bow bis honour and
attoty, or tbe state of the kingdom, could be raat-
tera unfit for their consideration in parliament,

imiuiitj of hatnd apiut Cdka.

and asserting their undoubted right of liberty of
speech as an inheritance received from their an-
cestors. James replied at length, showing them
how unfit they were for entering on high matters
of government, and criticizing tbe language of
their remonstrance. In the end he told them that,
although he could not allow of the style of call-
ing their privileges an undoubted right and in-
heritance, but could rather have wished that
they had said that their privileges were derived
from the grace and permission of hia ancestors
and himself; yet, as long as they contained thera-
aelves within the limite of their duty, he would
be as earaful of their privileges as of his own
prerogative, so that they never touched on that
prerogative, which would enforce him or any
just king to retrench their privileges. This was
bringing matters to an issue : this was an expli-
cit assertion on the part of the sovereign that
tbe privileges of parliament existed only by suf-
ferance, or depended entirely upon what the
court might choose to consider good behaviour.
The assertion exasperated the house, and Secre-
tary Calvertand otherminiaters vainly attempted
to pacify the members by admitting that the
king's expressions were incapable of defence, and
calling them a mere slip of the pen. James, in
afright,wrotealetterto Cilvert to qualify what
he had aaid; but, even in this conciliatory epistle,
he could not abstain from re-assertiug that tbe
liberties and privileges of the house were not
of undoubted right and inheritance unless they
were so from their being granted by the grace
and favour of his predecessors on the throne: and,
therefore, on the memorable 18th of December,
a day which forma an era in constitutional his-
tory, iJiey drew up the following protestation : —
" The commons, now aasembled in parliament,
being justly occasioned thereunto, concerning
sundry liberties, franchises, privileges, and juris-
dictions of parliament, amongst others not here-
in mentioned, do make this protestation follow-
ing:—That the liberties, franchises, privileges,
and jurisdictions of parliament, are the ancient
and undoubted birthright and inheritance of the
subjects of England; and that the arduous and
urgent affairs concerning thekiug's state, and the
defence of the realm, and of the Church of Eng-
land, and the making and maintenance of laws,
and redress of mischiefs and grievances, which
daily happen within this realm, are proper sub-
jecte and matter of counsel and debate in parlia-
ment; and that, in the handling and proceeding
of those businesses, every member of the house
hath, and of right ought to have, freedom of
speech to propound, treat, reason, and bring to
conclusion tbe same ; that the commons in par-
liament have like liberty and freedom to treat
of those matlera, in nich order as, in their jndg-

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

. ASD MiLITART.

menta, shall seem fittest; and that every such
meaiber of the said hotiM bath like freedom from
all impeachment, impriBonineiit, and molestatioii
(other than hy the cenaurc of the house itself),
for OF concerning any bill, speaking, reasonln);,
or declaring of an; matter or raattera touching
the parliament or parliament busineKi; and that,
if anj of the said membera be complained of and
qneationed for anything said or done in parlia-
ment, the sama ia to be showed to the king, by
the advice and assent of all the commons aa-
•embled in parliament, before the king give cre-
dence to any private itiformatioi).' After a loug
and spirited debate (it lasted till the unusual
hour of five or six in the evening, being carried
on even by candle-light '.'), the nommons entered
this protestation in their journals " as of record.*
James's wrath overcame his craftinetm, and he
forgot tliat he was reported aick. Ife rodo np to
London, foaming or alavering at tlie mouth —
prorogued parliament — ordered the clerk of the
Hooae of Commons to bring him the journals —
erased the famoos pratestation with hia own
hand, in the presence of the judges and a full
asaembly of the council — commanded an act of

council to be made thereon, and what he had done
to be entered in the council-book— and a few
days after (on the 6Ch of Janiuu-y, 16SS) dissolved
the parliament by an insulting proclamation.'

The first act the king did to make good hia
piDmixe to govern well during the saapension of
pariiament, was to commit Coke and Sir Robert
Fhillipa to the Tower, Mr. Selden, Mr. Pym, and
Mr. Mallery to other priaona, and to send Sir
Dndley Diggen, Sir Thomas Crew, Sir Nathaniel
Rich, and Sir James Parott, on a commission
into Ireland, aa a sort of a cover for banishment
It will be remembered that an opposition party
had apntng up in the House of Lords; therefore
several of the peera were called before the privy
council, and one or two of them committed to
the Tower.

It is said that Prince Charies was rather con-
stant in his attendance in the House of Lords
during this mo«t significant aearion; but, if so,
he ceriainly had neithrr the good nenae nor the
good fortune to undeiiitAnd Its meanings and in-
dications, or to perceive the great changes mon'a
minds were nndei;goiDg— the mighty events that
were indeed casting their ehadowa before thetn.

CHAFTER v.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— A.D. 1622-1625.

JAMES I.

Sjrmpathj of th« Dttion tor the QuMn of Bohemia — Inirt conduct ot Junta in the Bobemiui war— Hii lemingi
lo UiB lida of Sp^n — Hii dwre ct a Spuiiih raairiage for hii »□ Charln — Hii corregpondeac* with the Pope
— AgTBenisot of JaniM with the Spaniih ooart tar relief oT thi Papista !□ Eugland— Treat j for a marriage of
Prino« Charln with the Spaniih infanta —Charleg and Bockingham r»qii«>t leava to go to Spain — Jama
compelled to a«ent—TIi> prince and favonriM Ht off on (hair anterpriia— ThnradTentarM on the joontty-
TbtSx rcoaption at Hsdrid— Fotivali and pageant! at the Spani^ court — Sacoenfnl conrtahip of Piinoa
Charlea — Eipeotation that ha woold ombnuM the Bomiah faith— Hi* duplicity on the oocunon — Haniage
■tipulatioD) for hii nnioo with tha infanta— The conaont of Jamea nquirsd -Siiif ting and doabls-dsaliiig of
Jamai in the matter— Bnckingham'i olTaDUTe oondnct at Uadrid — Tha prinoe and Bnoktngbam depart from
Spain — Hjpoeriticil oondaot of Charlai at hi* departnra — Hii walaoioe at hia return to England — Treat; of
the Spuiiih maniage Dontioued— It* ahmpt and diigiaceful termfnation — Diffimltiea ot Jamei — He iinecesn-
tated to conToka paTllamgat— Hi* oonciliator; opaning apcech— Buckingham'* falie atatenent about Uw
marriage treaty— Jam«anTg*d to go to war with Spain— Btipplim voted to him hytheoonnnonB—Iliej demand
the enforeamaui nf tha itatatae againit Catholic*— Haanore of Amboyna— War in the Natharlandi— Arrival
of Count Hanafaldt in En^and— Kegotiaiiona (or the marriage of Princs Charlea with a Franoh prineeei —
Stipolatloni on the nittjaot between the Engliah and French conrta— Cbirlai en|iiges to eapouaa (he Princaaa
HanrietU Maria- Laat ncknaM ot King JamM- Hii death.

T this time the popular feeling was
greatly excited by the miflfortnnm
and aufieringi of the king's daugh-
ter, which, by a little exaggeration,
were heightened into a wonderfully
dramatic interest The young and
declared themaelvea her champions.

■ TUa ii DM of tb* tadKat iMtaHNof a <

tobTaaDilla.Ught. )

■ndtroubled JHrneewiththeirenthuaiaam, Every
atep that the Palatine took was a blunder, and
Jinnes could do little for him but send more am-
bassadors. His relation, the King of Denmark,
wss no longer able or willing to do him aerrice;
and the Dutch, who were mid to have contri-
buted to all his troublea, by urging him to bc-

> Mfma:- KmlimtA: FaH. JIM..- Olri OaiU.

,v Google

ix. 1622—1625.] i JAM

cept tb« crown of Bohemia, eonid not do much
bjr tbemselveB. The Catholica of Antwerp turned
tU these illuatriouB partita into ridicule in their
public theabres. At the same time they pic-
tured King James, at one place with n Bcabbard
without a aword; in another with a sword which
nabodj' conld pull out of ita sheath, thoagh many
kept tugging at it.

The French, out of their ancient rivalry nnd
jealousy of the house of Austna, aod their lore
o( war, would have been disposed to strike a blow
forthedispoBBeBsed prince; but their young king,
like our old king, was ruled by a despicable fa-
ronrite;' their court waa occupied by profligate
intrigues and selfish factions ; and their country
was again the scene of a civO and religious war,
for the Huguenots about this time rushed or
were driven into open hostilities. Instead of
bdng in a condition to lead an army to the Rhine,
I^uia XIII. saw himself compelled to lay siege
to his own cities in the heart of France. The
French Protestants, as usual, applied to England
for assistance; but all that James could do for
them was to transmit a few diplomatic messages
to their young king.

The Count Mansfeldt, and Prince Christinu of
Bmqawick, aft«r maintaining a wild sort of war,
more on their own account than on that of the
ex-King of Bohemia, evacuated the Palatinate,
and took service with the Dntch; and James,
who found it burdensome to pay the garrison,
and who wished to propitiate his Catholic ma-
jesty, delivered up Frankendoet to the Spaniards,
upon their promise of restoring it if a satisfac-
tory peace were not concluded in eighteen months.
The emperor had already given the greater part
of the Palatine's territories to the Duke of Ba-
raria. Without kingdom or electorate, withoat
a province, without a house or home of his
own, the luckless PaUtine, with his wife and
family, was left to subsist at the Hague npon a
Dutch pension. But the Solomon of his age, his
loving father-in-h»w, who found a gratification in
the fulfilment of his own prophecy, and who was
little touched by his disgrace, saw elevation ii
this depression— a light in all this darkness. Hi
had done the will of Spain in many things; he
waa doing it in more, even at the risk of a civil
war at home; and he deluded himself with ima-
gining that he had at lost removed all obstacles
to the Spanish match, and tliat the treaty of
marriage would be followed by the entire i
tiitioD of the Palatinate to his son-in-law, Philip
III. had died in the month of March, 1621, and

> Hit fiKDOilte ml an* Hoiulmr da Lnfnn, who. in hli noi
■e*, ^isad mwb upon tlw kins b; oiiklni twwka Is Sj >t ■
UtUa Unla in hta garddB, ud bj uukiug Momn of thiiH csti
—Ltfi 4^ Sdmnl lard Hirbti^ q/ CAirMirjr, writU

361

had been succeeded by his son Philip IV„ bro-
ther to the intended bride of Prince Charles.
The Lord Digby, now Earl of Bristol, and special
ambassador to the young sovereign, reported that
as favourable to the matoh, but that Philip
could not marry his sister to a Protestant with-
out a dispenaation from the pope, and a full as-
surance that she should be left to the enjoyment
of her own conacieuce and her own religion in
England. Gondomar, who had returned from
London to Madrid, to forward, as he said, the
plans and wishes of his royal friend and boon
companion, f^ve equally hopeful assurances. In
fact, the King of Spain applied to Borne for a
dispensation, James, impatient of delay — and
the chnrchmen of Borne were seldom quick in
these matters — despatched an agent of his own
(Mr. George Gage) to the Vatican, while his fa-
vourite, Buckingham, employed another. Nay,
in his anxiety, James did what he bad done be-
fore in Scotland — he wroto himself two letters
1 the pofie, or rather to two popes, for there was
death and a new election during tlie negotia-

It was well for James that the secret coiTes-
pondence with Borne was not discovered by the
Puritans, who, however, were wonderfully dis-
quieted by certain proceedings which arose out
of it, and James's eagerness to gratify the pope.
If what he did had been his own free and dis-
interested act, it would have entitled him to high
praise. He issued pardons for recusancy to all
English Catholics that should apply for them;
and he ordered the Judges on their circuits to dis-
charge from prison every recusant that could find
security for his re-appeai-ance. So severely
had the laws been executed that the prisoners
thus liberated were counted by thousands. AU
the zealots took the alarm, and the Lord-hishop
and Lord-keeper Williams, to quiet their fears,
represented, by order of the king, that this lenity
was only meant to secure better treatment for
the Protestants abroad; and that, though the
recusanla were released from prison, tliey had
still the shackles about their heels, and might be
seized again at the shortest notice.

By the month of January, 1623, such progress
was made in the S]>anish match, that James and
his son signed articies, promising that the Eng-
lish Catholics should be relieved from all kinds of
persecution, and permitted to have their masses
and other ceremonies in their own houses; anil the
Spanish king agreed to give his sister 2,(H)1>,000
ducats, and to celebrate the espousals at Mrt-
drid (the Prince of Wales being represented by
proxy), within forty days after the arrival of the
dispenaation from Bome. James wished to have
the money; Charles wished to shorten the period
which, accordinjr to Spanish etiquette, was to

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[ClTIL AVD MlUTAKT.

elApee b«tne«D tbe espouMie and the actual mar-
ringe ; and both appear to have apprehended that
the busiiTeBH, which had alread; be«D Bevea jrenra
on the carpet, might atill be apuo out a ;e»r <a
two longer, if left to the manageineut of minift-
tcN and diplomatiats. Impatient of this delay,
and animated by a strange fit of quixotiem,
Charles and Buckingham middt-nlj made up
their minds to become travellers into Spain, and
manage the matter in their own fashion. If the
precious scheme had not been seconded by the
nil-prevailing minion, it would assuredly have
failed through the opposition of the king. Vari-
ous motives are assigned for Buckingham's going
into it with the eagerness he did: according to
some, he already hated the Earl of Bristol, and
was jealous of Ihe consideration and the influence
over the mind of the Spanish infanta which that
Dableman would obtain, if he were left to bring
the match to completion, and conduct the bride
into England ; while Clarendon says, not only
that he entered into the scheme to gain favour
with the prince, but that he originated it, and
tliat it was " the beginning of an entire confi-
dence between them, after a long time of declared
jealousy and displeasure on the prince's part, and
occasion enough administered on the other.' One
morning Charies waited upon his father, declar-
ing that he had an earnest desire and suit upon
which the happiness of his life depended; but
that, as the doing or not doing what he desired
depended wholly and entirely upon his majesty's
approbation and commajid, he would not commu-
nicate the substance of his suit without his fa-
thei's promise to decide upon it himself, and not
to consult with, or communicate the aecre
any person whatsoever. James gave this pro-
mise, and then grew very eager to know what
this great secret could be. Then, watching the
moods and turns of the king's humour, and seiz-
ing their opportunity, Charles fell on his knees,
and stated his re4]uest, the duke standing by
without saying a word. The king taJked
the whole matter to the prince with less passion
than they expected, and then looked at the fa-
vourite, as inclined to hear what he would say.
Buckingham spoke nothing to the point, but en-
larged upon the infinite obligation his majesty
would confer upon the prince by his yielding
the violent passion his highness was transported
with; and then, after he had gone on to state that
his refusal would make a deep impression upon
the spirits and peace of mind of his only
Charles, seeing that his father was touched, put
in his word, and represented that his arrival at
Madrid must certainly be presently followed by
his marriage, and in a moment determine the
restitution of the Palatinate to his brother and
sister. "These discourses, urged with all the ar-

tifice and address imaginable, so far wrou^t upon
and prevailed with the king, that, with less hesi-
tation than his nature was accustomed to, and
much leas than was agreeable to his great wis-
dom, he gave his approbation, and promised that
the prinoe should make the jonmey he was so
much inclined to."' But as soon as James was
left to his reflections he bitterly repented; and,
when his son and favourite next presented them-
selves, he fell into a great pasmon with tears,and
told them that he was undone, and that it would
break his heart if they persisted; and after ex-
posing to them the uselessneas and danger of such
a journey, the power it would give the Spaniards,
the jealouues and suspicions it would exate
among the English, he implored them to release

from his promise, and concluded as be had
begun, with sighs and tears. Neither the prince
nor the favourite took any pains to answer the

ins his majesty had insisted on; but Charles
put him in mind of the sacredness of his promise,
telling him that the breaking of it would make
him never more think of marriage; and Backing-
ham, who, according U> the royalist historian, bet-
ter knew what kind of arguments were of force
with him, treated him more rudely, telling him
iJiot nobody oould believe anything be Baid,.when
he retracted so soon the promise he had so so-
lemnly made; and that he plainly perceived it
all proceeded from another breach of his word,
in communicating with some rascal who hadfui^
iiished him with those pitiful reasons. His ma-
jesty passionately, and with many oaths, denied
that he had communicated the matter to any
person living; and presently, conquered by the
"humble and importunate entreaty* of his son,
and "the rougher dialect of his favourite, he
withdrew his opposition to the journey; and it
was settled that in two days they should take
their leave," his highneas pretending to hunt at
Theobalds, and the duke to take physic at CheU
sea. They told the king that, os it was before
resolved they should only take two persons with
them, they aeleet«d Sir Francis Cottington an<l
Endymion Porter, as men grateful to his majesty,
and well acquainted with Spain. The king ap-
proved of their choice, and called for Sir 1^*80018
Cottington, who was in waiting. "Cottington
will be against the journey,' whispered Bucking-
ham to the prince. "No, Sir,' said Charles, "he
dares not.' But the prince was somewhat mis-
taken; for, when the king told Cottington that
Baby Charles and Steenie bad a mind to go by
post into Spain, to fetch home the infanta, and
commanded him to tell him, aa an honest man,
what he thought about it, Cottington, after snch
a trembling that he conld hardly speak, told the
king that the expedition was unwise and unsafe;

»Google

Bod then the king threi* himaetf upon his bed,
ctying, "1 told you bo, 1 told you so before; I
Rh&ll be undone, and lose Baby Charlee." The
prince and Buckingham were furious, and the
latter fell npon poorCottington as if he had been
a courier or post-boy, tcllin|{ him that he should
repent his presnmption as long as he lived. This
put the king into a new agony. "Nay, by God,
Stoenie," said he, "you are very much to blame
to use him so : he answered me directly to the
question I asked him, and very honestly and
wisely." After all this passion on both sides,
James again yielded, plainly perceiving, it is said,
that the whole intrigue had been originally con-
trived by Buckingham, whom he durst not oft-
pose, and whom Clarendon says he was never
well pleased with afterwards. On the 17th of
February, I6i3, the two knights-errant took their
leave of the king, and on the following day they
began their journey from New Hall, in Essex, a

seat which Buckingham had recently purchased,
setting out with dlHguised beards and borrowed
names. The prince was John Smith — the noble
marquis, Thomas Smith. They were attended
only by Sir Richard Graham, master of the horse
to the marqiiia, and "of inward trust about him*
On crossing the river to Graveseml they excited
suspicion, by giving a piece of gold to the ferry-
man, and were near being stopped at Bochester.
On ascending the hill beyond that city they were
perplexed at seeing the French ambassador in
the king's coach, "which made them baulk the

road, and teach post hackneys to leap hedges."
At Canterbury an officious mayor would have ar-
rested them, but Buckingham took off bis beard,
and told him who he was. Then, on the road,
the ba^age post-boy, who bad been at court, got
a glimmering who they were, but his mouth was
easily shut — at least so they thought. At Dover
they found Sir Francis Cottington and Master
Ekidymion Porter, who had been sent before to
provide a vessel; and on the following morning
they hoisted their adventurous sails for the
French coast.* Even as a masquerade the per-
formance did them little credit, for they were dis-
covered neariy everywhere they went; and as
for their secret being kept at court, it was blown
abroad through town and country almost as soon
as they put on their false beards. For a day or
two, however, it was not known whither they had
directed their steps. When it was discovered
that the prince was going to Spain, to throw him-
self among priests and monks,
familiars and iuquisitora, there
was a dreadful coDstemation
among the people, who declared
at once that he would never
come back alive, or, if he did,
he would come a Papist.

Meanwhile, the prince and
Buckingham, or, as the king
addressed tbera, the "sweet
boys and dear venturous
knights, worthy to be put in a
new romanso,' continued their
journey in disguise. Late one
night the English ambassador
at Pans, Mr. Edward Herbert,
afterwards Lord Herbert of
Cherbury, was waited npon by
one Andrews, a Scotchman,
tt. who asked him whether he had

seen the prince. The ambassa'
dor asked what prince ) " He told me,* says Her-
bert, "the Prince of Wales, which yet I could not
believe easily, until,with many oaths, he affirmed
the prince was in France, and that he had charge
to follow his highness, desiring me, in the mean-
while, on the part of th« king, my master, to
serve his passage the best I could." Though
nettled that the prince should have passed with-
out visiting him and letting him into the secret,
Herbert, full of anxiety for his safety, went, very
early the next morning, to Monsieur Puisieux,
principal secretary of state, whom in his urgency

TOUen, Duksof Biuklneliu

C bjr Rflbtrt, Eul at SmHi, to

ilsDil the Eul of Holli
ilf otChu-ls I, Thsro

tbe dalu iriu prgDnded M^Dit u ■ tnitor. and hk oU

■equeatnled ; tud ■fl«rw*jdfl, whAn vommimioDwa wftn mp-
pofnlsd laasU tnlton'aUMa, Ihiiwu pnrchjwed. In IKl, br
Otnen] Oliver CtdttivbII. thu ooniid«ntkjn mooej being At*
■hlIlln(>,udthei»mput«dxeul}Tiilw(13iM, l:!i,3|i{. Ciom-
Hkll toi Huopton Court, pk^Iq]^ Um

dla*nmie.—W right'! Baa.

iroKsiL * li/iiifltntHBttrttfCIUTiiii^.

»Google

364

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil *

> UlUTART.

he dragged out of bed, telling Iiim he had im-
portant business to despatch. The French seers-
tary'a tint woi'ds were, " I know your buaineM &e
well Hs you. Your priuce is departed this ntom-
ing post to Spain !" And then he added that
he would suffer him quietly to hold his way with-
out interrupting hira. The French ministry cer-
tainly did not regard the matrimonial alliance be-
tweeu England and Spain with pleasant feelingn;
but what they more immediately apprehended waa
that Charles, who was stealing secretly through
their kingdom, might have dangerous communi-
cations with the disaffected or revolting Hugue-
uots } aud, when Herbert requested that no one
might be sent after him, the secretary replied,
politely and adroitly, that he could do no less than
send some one to know how the prince fared on
his journey. The hint was enough : Herbert
hurried home and despatched a courier after
Charles, warning him to make all the haste he
could out of France, and not to treat with any
of the religion on the way, since his being in
Paris was publicly known. The ambassador
afterwards teamed that Charles had spent the
whole of the preceding day in "seeing the
French court and city of Paris, without that any-
body did know his person, but a maid that had
sold linen heretofore in Loudon, who, seeing
him pass fay, said. Certainly this is the Prince of
Wales."' On that same night the prince had
written to tell his father how he and Bucking-
ham had been at conrt, withont being known
by any one, where he saw the young queen, and
little Kfonsieur, and nineteen " fairdancing ladies'
practixtug a mask, and the queen was the hand-
somest of them ail, which had wrought in him
the greater desire to see her sister' Among these
fair dancing ladies was one really destined to
become his wife, and it has been suspected that
the dark eyes of Henrietta Maria now fascinated
Charles, and that he went to pay his court to the
infanta with his mind pre-occupied by another.
At Bayoune the venturous kuigliU were detained
and examined, and, for a moment, fancied they
would not be allowed to proceed across the Py-
renees; bnt their fears proved to be unfounded,
and they presently crossed the Spanish frontier.
At the close of an evening towards the end of
March two mules stopjied at the house of my
Lord of Bristol in Madrid. The ridere alighted.
Mr. Thomas Smith went in first with a portman-
teau under his arm ; and then Mr. John Smith,
who stayed awhile on the other aide of the street
in the dark, was sent for. When the diploma-
tist recognized in this John Smith the heir to the

' lift ry lani Hnlirrl <^ C\rr1n.ry.

> Chirln'i IMtar to tba kiB|, dated Fuk. the !!d of Pebmu?,
Sn. In eir Henir Ellii. Anua of Awtrte. Um jamt Fniich
IWMii, WH Mm ikUr (a t)w itiEUU Doima Muii

English crown, aud in Thomas the Marquis of
Buckingham, he stared as if he had seen two

ghosts ; hut presently he took the prince up to
his bed-chamber, wrote a letter, and despatched
a courier that night to acquaint the King of Eng-
land how his son, in lera than sixteen days, had
arrived safely at the capital of Spain. The next
day Sir Francis Cottington and Mr. Porter rode
into Madrid, the prince and Buckingham having
out-riddeu them.' Knowing that their arrival
must be discovered, and not wishing the disco-
very to be made by a postillion, the prince and the
favourite lost no time in sending for Count Gondo-
mar, the man who had seut Baleigh to the block,
and who was now in very hi^ favour at court.
Gondomar hastened to Lord Bristol's aud then
back to the palace (we must use the words of
Cliarlee, in the joint letter he and Buckingham
wrote to Solomon), "and presently went to the
Cond£ of OHvares, and as speedily got me your
dog Steenie a private audience of the king ; and,
j when I was to return back to my lodging, tlie
' Oond£ of Olivaree himself alone would accom-
pany me back again to salute the prince in his
kiu^s name." "The next day" (we continue the
story in the appropriate language of the other
chirf performer in it), " we had a private visit of
the king, the queen, the infanta, Don Carlos, and
the cardinal, in the sight of all the world, and I
may call it a private obligation hidden from no-
body; for there was the pope's nuncio, the em-
peror's ambassador, the French, and all the
streets filled with guards and other people ; before
the king's coach went the best of the nobility,
after followed all the ladies of the court ; we sat
in an invisible coach, because nobody was suf-
fered to take notice of it, though seen by all the
world; in this form they passed thi-ee times by
us, but before we could get away, the Cond6 of
Olivares came into our coach and conveyeil us
home, where he told us the king longed and died
for want of a nearer sight of our wooer. First,
he took me in his coach to go to the king; we
found him walking in the streets, with his cloak
thrown over his face, and a sword and buckler
by his side ; he leai>eii into the coach, aud
away he came to find the wooer in anotlier place
appointed, where they passed much kindness
and compliment one to another.' Steenie goes
on to tell his master that Philip is in raptures
with the journey and with the prince; that Oli-
vares, the potent favourite, had told him, that
very morning, that if the pope would not give
a dispensation for a wife, they would give the
iufanta to his son Baby"as his wench;' and that
he had just written to the pope's nephew, enti-eat-
iug him to hasten the dispensation. He tlien
that the pope's nuncio, at Mailrid, was

,v Google

A.D. I6S2— 162S.] JAM

fforkiug maliciooBly againat tlie match, and con- '
cLudea with these omitioiu words : " We make this
collection, that the pops will be very loath b>
grant a dispensation, vhicb, if he will not do,
Mm we vxmld gladlg have your direetiont how far
ice may engage gov in the actnmetedfftneta of the
pope't special poiiBt!r,for tM almott Ji»d, if you
\BiU be oontented to OfekiunUedge the pope chief head
tmder ChrUt, that tAt match will be made without
lii'm.'' Meanwhile all honour was paid bj the
planish court to the Prince of Wales ; grandees
wera appointed to attend him, and various dtrer-
Bione were proposed to amuse him till the time
of his solemn entrance aad public I'eceptiou. On
the Sunday afternoon, Charles having signified
bis desire to see hia bride agtun, the king went
abroad to take the air witik the queen, his two
brothers, and the infanta, who were all in one
coach; but the infanta sat in the boot with a blue
ribbon about her arm, on purpose that the prince
might distinguish her. The royal cairiage was
followed by twenty eoaohea, full of grandees and
ladies. Then his highness of Wales, with the
Earl of Bristol and Gondomar, took coach and
drove to the Prado, where ha met and paRsed the
king's carriage three several times. As there
had been no public presentatiun, etiquette did
not allow his majesty to notice the prince or stop
his coach ; hut as soon as the infanta saw the
prince, her colour rose.' The Infanta, Bonna
Utaria, who was then in the bloom of youth, is
thus descrilied by the lively aud attentive obser-
ver of tliese doings:— "She is a very coineiy lady,
rather of a Fleniiah complexion than Spanish,
fair-haired, and carrying a roost pure mixture of
red and white in her face. She is full and hig-
lipped, whicli ia held a beauty rather than a
blemieh."' In the following week Chnrtes was
amused with hunting and hawking, and parties
of pleaaure to the Cbaa de Campo ; but on Sun-
day be was conducted to the royal monastery of
St. Jerome, whence the Einga of Spaiu were
wont to proceed on the day of their coronation.
As soon aa he was there, Philip, attended by his
two brothers, his eight miniaters of state, and
the flower of the Spanish nobility, went to bring
him back in triumph to Madrid. Charles rode
at the king's right hand, tlirongh the heart of
the town, iiuder a great canopy, and was tjroQgbt
■o into his lodgings in the king's palace, and the
king himself accompanied him to hia very bed-
chamber. From hia apartment (it was the most
magnificent in the palace) Charles proceeded to

> Hurdxictt Stall Paprrt. Thli MUr, lllu th* muT gthu
Joint IHIan. <• ilgnad. "Toor DulHtTV hnmbb udobscUnit
■mi uhI Hrruit. Cbtxim—Yva humbltdsn ud dog. Suanl*,"
— Thb 1IUB^ th< CSoMcb for BUpfaan, la uid to ban ben b»

IS r. 365

visit the royal family. Four chairs of precisely
equal size (an important matter) were placed
under a canopy of state ; one for the king, ona
for the queen, one for the infanta, and one for
his highnesa of Wales. The Earl of Bristol at-
tended as usual as interpreter, for Charles knew
no Spanish, and tlie royal permnages possessed
no one language in common.' When Charles
went back to his chamber, he found many costly
presents which the queen had sent him. Though
he had arrived so poorly attended, the Prince of
Wales had by this time a pretty numerous re-
tinue, which kept increasing with fresh arrivals
from England. James made haste to send the
Earl of Carlisle to the French court to excuse
his son's incognito. Carlisle was accompanied by
Lord Mountjoy; and when they had given their
explanations at Paris, these two lords rode on
towards Madrid. A few days after this James
hurried off in the same track Master Kirk and
Master Gabriel to cany Georges and Garters
with all speed, and the Lords nolland, Kochfort,
Denbigh, Audover, Vaughan, and Kensington,
aud a whole troop of courtiers, to keep "the
sweet boys" company. Others followed from
time to time, some going by land and some by
sea — some receiving money from the king, aud
some defraying their own expenses. Archibald
Armstrong, the famous court fool, was among
these travellers to Madrid, so that, by the time
they all arrived, his royal highnesa must have
had a tolerably complete court. This snid Archy,
notwithstanding his profession and the cap and
bells, was a stout Presbyterian or Puritan, and,
as such, very much averse to the Catliolic match.
"Our cousin Archj," says the attentive observer
of this court comedy, " hath more privilege than
any; for he often goes with bis fool's coat where
the infanta is with her Meninas and ladies of
honour, and keeps a blowing end blustering
among them, and blurts out what he lists." '
They were altogether an ill-bred, disorderly crew,
and the wonder is, that with such conflicting pre-
judices, and such fiery tempers aa those of the
Spaniards, they did not get knocked on the head.
Before quarrelling about religion, they quarrelled
about cookery — a point on which nationality is
extremely susceptible, every people considering
their own kitchen, like their own religion, not
merely the best, but the only good one in the
world. King Philip, a weak youth of nineteen,
but accompl^hed, cheerful, and good-natured,
associated familiarly with Charles, who was four
years his senior; but not only the rigid etiquette
of that court, but also tbe universal custom of
the country, were opposed to any tite-a-ttte, oi

' FlDrtft, JUjfnMi da ApdAn, h qiuted br Mr, Dnnlop, Ut-
miirttf^lM iarinfllit rrifiutfFlHlip ir.ani CJiarla tl.
bon len to I'M. •»«■<(.

,v Google

36G

n[8T0Ky OF ENGLAND.

[C.TI

D UlLTTABT.

private ineettnga, between the English prioee naA
hia bride. He was, howsver, allowed plentj of
opportimitiea of seeing her in company. Bnt
though the prince was very demure in public, he
Tontured upon a freak of a very strange and in-
decorous Idnd. " Undentauding,' aaya Howell,
in a letter to Captain Thomaa Porter, " that the
in&nta waa used to go some nioningB to the
Casa da Campo, a snmmer-houHe the king hath
on the other side the river, to gather Jfay-tfew,
he rcee betimes, and went thither, taking your
brother (Endymion Porter) with him ; they were
let into tiie houae, and into the garden, but the
infanta was in the orchard. And there being a
high partition wall between, and the doordoublj
bolted, the prince got on the t^ip of the wall, and
sprung down a great height, and bo made to-
wards her; bnt she, spying him first of all the
reat, gave a shriek, and ran back : the old mar-
quis that WM then her guardian came towards
the prince, and fell on his knees, conjuring his
highness to retire, in r^ard he hazarded his head
if he admitted any to her company; so the door
was opened, and he came out under that wall
over which he had got in."

One of the graces conferred on Charles was the
release of all the prisoners in Madrid, and the
royal promise that, for a whole month, any peti-
tion presented thmngh him should be granted ;
but he showed himself wonderfidly sparing in
receiving any auch petitions, especially from any
Englishman, Irishman, or ScoL' Bull-fights,'
fencing -matches, religious processions, toum»-
ments, hunts, and feasts, were exhibited in rapid
succession, to while away the time. Charles
began to study Spanish — the infantu English.
King James, in one of his paternal letters, be-
sought Baby Charles and Steenie not to forget
their dancing, though they should whistle and
eing the one to the other, like Jack and Tom, for
fault of better music. " But," he adds in
same letter, " you must be ss sparing as you
in your spending, for your officers are already
put to the height of their speed to provide thi
X6000 by exchange, and now your tilting stuff,
which they know not how to provide, will <
to three more-, and Qod knows how my coffers
are already drained. I know no remedy, except
you procure the speedy payment of that ^£150,000
which was once promised to be advanced. .
I pray you, my baby, take heed bf being hurt if
you run a tilt.*' But James was not blind to the
{>erU of acting upon Charles's and Buckinghi

r, of hi* cnrm aeoDrd. Iwlped Id
Uw ImiiUiItloii •* ToMo aod fii
lU-lahM wn* Ttrjr iplaidid, wi
(. "Ttupopf.'iKlthtlMbi

ig, JM It will
:h u hlbltuKl dallght In
* Sir U. aif.

sui^estions of acknowledging the pope; and in
reply to that particular part of tbeir letter, he farid
them that he knew not what was meant by hia
acknowledging the pope's spiritual snpremacy.
Buckingham, whose motberwas an avowed Papist
— and in all things this woman had the greatest
influence over her son — wonld, in all probability,
have voted readily for a change in religion ; but
the dedded feelings of some of the English peo-
ple about him, and his own reflections, shallow
as the; were, must have dispelled any such peri-
lous notions. That the Spanish court flattered
itself with the hope of reclaiming Prince Charlea,
and, by his means, reconciling the English nation
to the Church of Some— nay, that efforts were
made to bring abont this great end — ia undenia-
ble ; and if Chariea was, as that not very religions
courtier, the Earl of Carlisle, expressed it, well
grounded " in piety and knowledge of the religion
wherein he was bred,' and if he escaped the dog-
mas of Papal supremacy, purgatory, and transub-
slantiation, he certainly contracted a fondness — a
passion — which afterwards proved fatal to him,
for a gorgeous hierarchy and a splendid ceremo-
nial in the Anglican church. Nor did he ever
fiankty close the door to the Spaniard's hope, or
honestly declare, that neither his conviction nor
his iut«reat would permit him to recant. Evwy
part of this story is interesting and important, as
tending to throw light on the chane(«r of Char-
les. He entreated hia father to advise as little
with his council as was poaaible, but to trust to
the discretion of himself and Buckingham; and
he asked and obtained from the weakness of
James a pledge of full power, conceived in the
following words, which he and Buckingham bad
remitted as a copy : " We do hereby promise, by
the word of a king, thot whatsoever you our son
shall promise in our name, we shall punctually
perform.** The Catholic refugees from England
gathered round the prince and BuckinghaiD,
and were for some time cheered with the pro-
spect of a most ample toleration in their nsiive
land, if not of the re-establishment of their reli-
gion to the exclusion of all other faiths. The
priests tampered with Cbariea's attendants and
servants, a kind of proceeding which greatly
irritated the sturdier Protestants. Ous day Sir
Edmund Vamey found a learned priest, a dootor
of the Sorbonne, by the bedside of one of the
prince's pages, who was sick of a deadly fever,
and he put a stop to his labours of conversion by
doubling his fists instead of arguments, and hit-
ting the priest under the ear.*

At the same time the Spanish court represented
to the [lope that Prince Charles would become •

la tUaj, ■ diky or two *fi

»Google

Aj). 1622—1625.] jam:

good Catholic, or, if he did not, trould aeeure
everj advantage to the profeesora of that religioo
in Eoglsjid, Scotland, and Ii-elaad. Oregoiy
XT. had alread; written to the inquisitor-gene-
ral of Spain, ezpresung his deaire that the moat
ahould be made of the opportunity offered bj
Heaven itself. " Weundentand,"Bajstbepope,
"that the Prince of Walea, tli« King of Great
Britain's son, is lately arrived there, carried with
a hope of Catholic marriage. Our desire is that
be flhonld not stay in vain in tlie conrts of those
kings to whom the defence of the pope's autho-
rity, and care of advancing religion, hath pro-
cured the renowned name of Catholic Where-
fore, bj apostolic letters, we exhort his Catholic
tnajes^ that be would gentlj endeavour aweetly
to reduce that prince to the obedience of the Ro-
man ehorch," &c' Boon after, Qregory addressed
« gentle letter to Prince Cbaries himself, exhort-
ing him to embrace the religion of his ancestors,
and exprening bis hope that, as he intended to
match with a Catholic damsel, he would give new
life to that piety for which the Kings of England
had been so celebrated.* The proofs on record
are too numerous and glaring to permit us to
challenge the position that Charles was an early
proficient in hypocrisy. He wrote a letter to the
pope, in reverential t«rma, calling him most
holy father, telling him how much he deplored
the divisions in the Christian church, and how
Mixious he was to restore union.' Gregory XV.
died before this epistle reached Home, bnt his
successor. Urban VIII., considered it as equiva-
lent to a recantation, and, in ansffsring it, tbe
new pontiff said, " We lifted up our hands to
heaven, and gave thanks to the Father of mer-
cies, when, in the very entry of our reign, a
British prince began to perform this kind of
obedience to the Pope of Borne."* The events of
the Vatican occasioned delay. Gregory had de-
spatched a dispensation, which was in ths hands
of the legate at Madrid, who, however, had
orders not to deliver it until he had made a surer
bargain with the English court as to a full to-
leration, at leatt, of the Catholic religion; and
now the Spanish ooort declared that it was es-
sential to obtain a confirmation of the bull from
the new pope. Olivares, moreover, remodelled
the matrimonial treaty, inserting several new

H 1 867

clauses.' It was provided that the infanta should
have an open oratory, or chapel, in the palace,
that she should choose the nuiaee and governesses
of her children, and that her children should be
brought up by her till they were at least ten years
of age; that her children's proving Catholics should
not exclude them from the auccesaion ; and, finally,
that the Eiug of England should give security
for the fulfilment of these stipulations. Jamea
ratified all these clauses, but as for security, be
could give vone beyond his word, and that was
not very highly valued. His majesty, however,
did not sign without hesitation and fear : he felt
that to obtain the sanction of bis parliament
would be imposuble; but that which "pinched
and perplexed him moat" was, that he had given
his power to Prince Charles, according to which
power bis royal highness had already c<»icluded
all these articles, and promised the required se-
curity; BO tbat now "it went upon the honour of
his majesty and the prince, and peiiiaps upon
the liberty of his highness, his power to return
home, and the safety of hia person." The choeen
counsellors met the king at Wanstead. " His ma-
jesty," says Secretary Conway, "made the most
serious, the most sad, fatherly, kind, kingly, wise,
pious, manly, stout speech that ever I heard,
which no man can repeat or relate (without blem-
ishing) but himself. But this effect it wrought
—all the lords were of opinion that hie high-
ness's words and articles must be made .good;
that the oath by the council must be taken; and
with one voice gave counsel (as without which
nothing could be wall) that the prince must
marry and bring bis lady away with him this
year — this old year; or eUc^ the prince presently
to return without marriage of contract; leaving
both those to be accomplished by the usual
forms,"' A day or two after this meeting at
Wanstead, both the king and the lords of the
council swore to observe the treaty in the chapel
royal at Westminster. Several of the lords who
took this oath, which was valueless and strictly
illegal without consent of parliament^ did it un-
willingly, through fear or intereat. Among them
Abbot, the half-Pnritan primate, who bad
been in great trouble and humiliation on account
of an unhappy accident.' James afterwards
privately swore to observe certain secret ai-ticles

• Br till* tlina BaiUafluun had qgunllBl vith t
hnatlU. Homll kh that thiM biekahnp mlglii

■ I'ttv from SanntaUT Ccbvut Is (ha Duti of Bt

■ fimeUoTu. AftBT nfforins mwih vtjdety, ha ma abnlvA
Junta, who, H Xlnfof EnsUndiuid Dattaidar of tlia Faith,
msd tha aaiaa kind ctf ponr wUdi Iha CitlioLki askaoH-
[ed la Uh popK Tlila ohilgattoa, howaw, did not linn
1 UK IBlmata to ths kinifa will ; ha npaaUdljr ra ~

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CiTII. AND MlLITARr.

in the treat;. Ths Spanish ambaasadora Chen
deeired that he woald make a begmning, and
piibtiah a proclamation forbidding all persecution
of Cathohcs ; but Jamea, fearfnl of so public a
measure, told them that a proclamation 'nras bnt
a giiBpenBion of the law, which might be made
void bj another proclamation, and which did not
bind a saccesBor. Still, however, the two Spanish
diplomatists fought hard for the proclamation.
James offered in lieu to give an indemnity to the
Catholics for the time to come, to give order for
a pardon for all things past that stood to the ad-
vantage of the king and in his power to release;
and for the time to come, to give a dispensation
from all penal laws, statutes, or ordinauces what-
soever. But when the proposed immunity, with
a prohibition to bishops, judges, and magistrates,
was submitted to the Lord-keeper Williams, he
refused to issue it as being a dangerous thing with-
out a precedent.' The ambassadors, who must
have learned and seen that James and his son
contracted for far more than thej could perform,
intimated to their court that a full toleration of
tbeCathoIicsinEngland was all but hopeless. At
the same time, with the usual sincerity of diplo-
matista, they told the King of England that his
majesty had fulfilled every jot of that he was
bound to, and more;' and James prepared pre-
sents aud jewels — Buckingham and his son had
almost emptied his purse and his diamond cases
before this' — to be laid at the feet of the infanta,
and a small fleet of ships to carry her to England
with her sweet husband. At London it was ge-
nerally believed that this long treaty was settled
at last, and even at Madrid grand festivals were
given as if in bononr of the approaching union.
But Olivares, the pope's nuncio, and a junta of
Spanish priests, to whom the business was re-
ferred, found many reasons for avoiding a final
settlement; and still the new pope delayed send-
ing a new dispensation. When it was perceived
that Charles, and, still more, the double favour-
ito Buckingham, were eager to ratum home, it
was proposed that the marriage, when the pope
was willing, should be solemnized in Spain, and
that the princesn and her dower should not be
sent to England till the spring of &e following
year, by which time his Englieh majesty would
be able to carry into effect his good intentious to-
wards bis Catholic subjects. But this proposal
was odious to James, nho had set his heart upon
having a large inatalment immediately; and he
agun urged his son and Buckingham to return
home, with the infanta, and some money if pos-
Mble — if not, without them. It is probable, how-

> irarrf>tli« Sou rapm. • Ibid.

■ For U1U* tiDrt Khar th«lr BrriTal Id Spain tTtrj ls(t4T front

ever, that the poor king might long have urged
their return in vain, if it had not been for ths
quarrels and disgust which Buckingham had ex-
cited at Madrid, and for certain fears and jeal-
ousies he entertained of what was passing in Lon-
don. Since his departure from England, Uiat
he might be more on a level with the grandees,
James bad made him a duke; but no move in the
soiled and disgraced peerage-book could elevate
this man's mind or improve his manners. His
levity, choleric dispoBition, and low profligacy,
disgusted the whole court; and the freedoms be
took with the Prince of Wales excited the great-
eat astonishment, and bwered Charles, who pet^
mitted them. He called hia royal highness by
all kinds of ridiculous nicknames, lolled about Ma
room with clothes half on, and kept his bat on
hie head whUe the prince was uncovered. He
introduced loose and improper company into the
very palace. It had been predicted to Jame*
that the two great favourites of two mighty kings
would never agree; and the prediction was more
than verified. It should be stated, however, in
fairness, that, bad as he was, Olivares was a gen-
tleman, and that he invariably acted with a de-
cency and dignity of which the English upstart
was altogether incapable. Philip himself was
greatly disgoated, and aaid that hia uster oinat
be wretched if so vitdent and unprincipled a man
was to enjoy the confidence and friendship of
her husband. Buckingham, fool as he was, saw
clearly that he was hated by the whole Spanish
court, and that, if Charles married the infanta,
he would always have an enemy at the English
court — that if she acquired the natural iufluenoe
of a wife over the prince, she might break the
String with which he had hitherto led both eon
and father. And at the same time Buckingham
was warned by Biakop Laud, and Other friends
or creatures of his faction, that the party of Lord
Bristol were "■■■^'"g head in England; that cer>
tain persons were so bold as to complain of hia
insolence and abuses of power; that the king lis-
tened to their complaints; and that there woold
be a complete revolution at court unless he re-
turned forthwith to manage hu old master. It
Charles had not been ap|»ehensive about their li-
berty and safety, be would have called for horses,
and ridden away at once with his dear Steenie;*
but, as it was, he submitted to a course of mental
reservation, evasion, lying, and perjury. There
may be some doubt entertained with respect to
the sincerity of the Spanish court, but the con-
duct of the Prince of Wales has not the benefit of

r« bron^t lilm hlthKi 11

»Google

A.D. 1622— 1C25.] JAM

the shadow of a douM. He fancied Ihnt, if he
failed to ^ve them satiafuction, or cast a slight
upon their princess, tlie Spaniards would detain
him aa a state prisoneri and he was ready to pro-
mise and vow whatever they chose, in otder to
get safe out of their country, fully resolving to
break all these engagements as soon as he con-
veniently might. He intimated to fais Catholic
niHJeBty that his father, who was growing old and
aick, had commanded him to return, and that his
prenence was indispensahle to qniet the alarms
of the Engliah people at his long absence, as well
as to prepare them for the reception of his Catho-
lic wife, and for that toleration of all Catholics,
which had been settled by treaty. Philip and
Olivares readily agreed to take charge of the dia-
penaation when it should arrive, and to have the
espouioils celebrated be/ore ChristmaH, at Me latest;
and diaries agreed to lodge a procuration, with
full powers, in the hands of the Earl of Bristol,
who was to deliver it to Philip ten days after the
arrival of the expected paper from Borne, and to
name the king, or hia brother, the Infant Don
Carlos, as proxy. Charles, in the presence of the
Patriarch of the Indies, solemnly swore with
Philip upon the Scriptures, to observe and faith-
fully keep this agreement. The Infanta Donna
Maria took the title of Princess of England, and
a separate court was formed for her by her bro-
ther. Charles now prepared to depart, and Buck-
iogham got all things ready with amazing alac-
rity.' Philip presented the prince with some line
Spanish and Barbary horses, various pictures by
the great Titian, a masterpiece of Correggio'a,
»nd various other articles indicative of his taato,
as well aa of his liberality. The young Queen
of Spain gave a great many bags of amber, with
some dressed kid skins, and linen; Olivaree gave
a few choice Italian pictures, three sedan chairs
of carious workmanship, and some costly articles
of furniture; and the chief grandees all gave
somethiog, as horses, fine mnles with trappings,
kc. lu return, the Prince of Wales gave to the
king an enamelled hilt for a aword and a dagger,
studded with precious stones, to the queen a pair
of curious ear-rings, and to the infanta a string
of pearls, and a diamond anchor as the emblem, of
hit conslaney' At his parting interview with the
young queen and Donna Maria, Charles played
die part of a disconsolate lover, forced from the
object of his passionate affections. The infanta
gave him a letter written with her own hand for
I Tfaets wm donbla adtcrUnsl h (o bii Inlnntloiii ; but «

S3 I. 369

the celebrated nun of Camon, who tiad attained
her lifetime to the reputation of a beatified
man, praying him to deliver it in person, with
the hope, no doubt, of his being couvert«d by the
sight of so much holiness; and the princess af-
terwards caused an extra mass to be said for his
safe voyage. Gondoraar, the Count of Monterey,
and other noblemen, were ordered to accompany
the prince all the way to St. Andero, where the
English Seet was lying under the command of
Lord Kutland. But Philip himself, with his two
brothers, would see his highness on his road ;
they travelled with him to the Esciirial, where
they entertjuned him splendidly for several days,
and then, as if loath to part, they went on with
s Campillo. "When the king and
he parted, there passed wouderiul great endear-
ments and embraces in divers postures between
them a long time; and in that place there was a
pillar to be erected as a monument to posterity."
Passing through Segovia, Valladolid, by the celt
of the nun of Carrion, travelling by easy jonr-
neya, and lodging in the castlea of the provin-
cial nobility, who everywhere gave him a most
kind and hospitable reception, Charles at length
reached the seaport. He had a narrow escape
from drowning while going in a boat from the
town of St. Andero to the admiral's ship. His
first remark on finding himself in safety was, that
he had duped the Spaniards; that the Spaniards
were fools to let him depart so freely!

The voyage was moat prosperous, and the
prince and Buckingham landed safely at Ports-
mouth on the 5th of October,* For some dayn
there was nothing but a ringing of hells, a mak-
ing of bonfires, with drums, guns, and tire- works;
and, without waiting for the word of command
from king or bishop, several zealous preachers
offered public thanksgivings in the churches for
the safe return of the godly young prince, the
only hope of the nation. In the meanwhile, the
effects of his double-dealing were manifesting
themselves. A few days after his departure from
Madrid, there arrived from him one Mr. Clerk, a
creature of Buckingham's, who took up his lodg-
ing in the house of the Earl of Bristol, to the
great surprise of those who knew it: — "(Consider-
ing the darkness that happened betwixt the dake
and the earl, we fear," writes Howell, "that this
Clerk hath bronght something that may puzzle
the business.' The fear was not anfounded. In
the course of a few days it was rumoured that
tiro lua, two jtbot, with ■ joung oelb ; nod on* elApbaat, whidi
la mirth yonr Hsliic. TImhI hira InpDdtDtlT txsgnl fbr/on.
Tlitn !• ■ BvbuT hona ooma wlUi th«n, I think from Wntt
~ '"' Dlujreth.hfl will acni! you man oinHli.

»Google

370

BI8T0KY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

a MiLITABT.

the pope's rescript was arrived, and thereupon
Clerk draired to ipeikk with my Lord Bristol, for
he had something to deliver him from the prince;
an<l "my lord ambassador being oome to him,
Mr. Clerk delivered a letter from tlie prince, the
contouts whereof were, that wbereaa he had left
cerUin proxies id hia hands to be delivered to the
King of S)min after the dispensation waa come,
he desired and required him not to do it till he
should receive further order from Eagland."'
The only reason alleged by Charles whs, that he
feared that the infanta, immediately after the
mairiage by proxy, would shut herself up in a
nunnery ! Bristol, lost in amazement, would not
see that this most absurd pretext was merely
meant to cover over a fixed determination not to
marry the princess at all. As the rumour which
haateneil Clerk's disclosure was premature, he
had time, aa he thought, to set matton right. He
went straight to court, where Philip gave him
every poasible assurance that his sister would be
sent into England at the time sud in the manner
already agreed upon, and where the iufanta made
henelf very merry,Baying, that she must confess
she never in all her life had any mind to be a
nun, and hardly thought she should be one i
only to avoid the Prince of Wales.' He then de-
spatched a courier with life and death speed to
King James, telling him of the absolute removal
of the only difficulty; and he continued to dress
and furnish his household in velvet and silver
lace, so that they might do honour to the cere-
mony of the eflpousals. But Charles and Bucking-
ham closeted James, and made him write to Bris-
tol that he might deliver his proxy at Christmas,
because "that holy and joyful time was best fit-
ting BO notable and blessed an action as the mar-
riage." To this despatch Bristol replied in all
speed, that (at Buckingham and the prirux well
tneie) the powers in the proxy expired be/c
Christmas; and it would be a most grievous insult
to present it when it had ceased to be of value;
that the pope had already signed the paper, and
that he, Bristol, should consider him^lf bound
by treaty, and by the oath he bad taken to that
treaty, to deliver the proxy whenever it shontd
be asked for by the King of Spain, unless his
master should send him positive orders to the
contrary. Having given what he considered sa-
tisfactory assurances to his ambassadors at the
English court, Philip, upon the actual arrival of
the document from Rome, which came in about
« fortnight, fixed tlio day for the marriage by
proxy, invited the grandees and great ladies to
the ceremony, and sent orders to all the towne
and seaports to discharge their great ordnance.
His infant daughter, of whom the queen had been
delivered a little while before, was to lie chi

tencd on the same auspicious day. Btit, when all
Madrid was at the height of its joy and pleasant
.pectations, when it wanted but three days of
the day, three English couriers, despatched for
greater certsinty, arrived oue upon the back of
the other, with a new commission to my Lord of
Bristol, countermanding the delivery of the proxy
until full and absolute satisfaction should be
given for the immediate surrender of the Falati-
or war declared by the Ring of Spun for
the obtaining of that surrender to the King of
England's son-in-law. Philip indignantly coun-
termanded the prepantions for the marriage,
broke up the household of his sister, and ordered
her to quit the study of t)ie English language, and
dinquish the title of Princess of Wales, which,
it is said, the infanta could not do without shed-
ding some tears. When the Spanish Bovereign's
anger cooled, he entered into explanations with
Bristol, for whom he entertained a high esteem.
He said that the PaUtinate was not his to g^ve,
and that it was scarcely to be expect«d he should
enter into a war with his relative the emperor,
and with half the Catholic powers of Europe, for
ite recovery ; but if a friendly negotiation could
secure it, he would guarantee it — nay, if, after
a time, negotiations were found unavailing, he
would take up arms to restore the Palatiue to
his hereditary dominions. The Spanish council,
moreover, affirmed that his majesty was resolved
to employ his utmost endeavours to satisfy the
King of England ; but to have it extorted from
him by way of menace, or that it shotild now he
sdded to the marriage by way of condition, and
that bis own sister must be rejected, unless the
king would make a war with the emperor, was
too humiliating, and whatsoever his majesty's
resolutions might be, he could neither with his
honour, nor with the honour of his sister, whom
he would in no way force or thrust upon the
prince, make any more concessions at present.
But, in a day or two, Philip pnt his signature to
a formal promise written in the form of a letter
to King James; and this, it was thought, would
satisfy the English court. But Charles fasd re-
solved not to marry the infante at any price, and
he and Buckingham, encouraged by the popular
feeling at home, had made up their minds to a
war with Spain. Bristol received his recal, anil
Philip then prepared for a war with England.
The ambassador represented to James, that hav-
ing contracted a debt of SO,0O0 crowns, and
pledged all his lady's jewels at Madrid /or /'riHrv
Charia, he had not a qtiarter of the money ne-
cessary for his journey; and he humbly besought
his niajesty to consider that his leaving that
court ought not to be like a running away in debt,
though, rather than disobey his commands, ha
would go home on foot. It does not appear dint

DiaiizKMGoogie

Junes remitUd a sixpence. But Philip comiuiB-
erated the bard case of Bristol, gave him a rich
mdeboard of plate, and, beiDg fully aware of the
fata that Buckingham was prepariog for him in
England, he made him an offer, that if he would
staj in any of his dominions, he would give him
money and honour eqnal to what the highest of
hia enemies poaaessed ; but Bristol declined the
Bplendid offer, saying, that he feared no mischief |
in his native country, which he must ever love
and prefer to every other. Though Cbarles and '
Backingham were very anxious to get Bristol
away from Uadrid, they were by no means deai- 1
rous of his presence in England: he was told to \
travel by alow stages, and when he arrived, he |
was ordered to go instantly to his house in the
country, and there consider himself a prisoner.
But for the opposition of the Buke of Richmond
and the Earl of Pembroke, the vindictive Buck-
ingham would have had him committed to the
Tower. As it was, without any trial — without
a hearing — he was forbidden either to visit the
court, or to take his seat as a peer in parlia-
ment.'

The kin^s joy for the return of the "dear
boys" was soon overcast by a gloomy reflectdon
upon the consequences of their rash journey.
No money from Spain, fresh debts contracted,
his jewels nearly ^ gone, his daughter still an
outcast, a war in perspective — those thoughts
harassed him to death, and made him forego his
hunting and his hawking, and shut himself up
in solitude. In other directions, Buckingham was
eliciting the most deplorable exhibitions of human
baseness. CranSeld the lord -treasurer, Bishop
Williams the lord-keeper, and others of his crea-
tures, who had joined In censuring his conduct
during his absence, becanse they thought bis in-
fluence waa on the decline, were all brought to
crawl tike reptiles before bim.'

A.D 1624 Nothing remained for James but
the last and painful resource of as-
sembling a parliament. This time he issued no
arbitrary proclamations, laid down no lessons to
the electors; and when the houses met (on the
19th of February), he addressed them in a tone
of great moderation and sweetness; but he could
not conquer his nature or his inveterate habit,
and, in the end, this falsetto give way to his real
voice. He told them that he remembered and
regretted former miauuderstandingB ; that he
earnestly desireil to do his duty, aud manifest
his love to his people. Forgetting pi-evioos de-
clarations, he told them that he had been Itmff
engaged in treaties with Spain; that he hod sent
his own son with the man he most tnisted, the
faithfulest and best of counselloi's, int

s I. S71

that all tliat had passed should be disclosed to
them. Ue hoped they would judge him chari-
tably, as they wished to be judged ; he declared
that, in every treaty, whether public or private,
he bad always considered above all things the
Protestant religion. He had, it waa true, some-
times caused the penal statutes to bear less rigo<
rously upon the Catholics than at other times,
but to dispense with the statutes, to forbid or
alter the law in that matter, he had never pro-
mised or yielded any auch thing.* In the con-
clusion of his long speech in parliament, he told
them to beware of jealousy, to remember tliat
time was predous, and to make no impertinent
and irritating inquiries.* Five days after, on
the 24th of February, Buckingham, at a general
conference held at Whitehatl, delivered to the
houses a long rambling but specious narrative,
the Prince of Wales standing beude him to as-
sist bis memory, and give weight to his asser-
tions. The Lord-keeper Williams, who had re-
hearsed the matter beforehand with the prince,
had warned Buckingham not to produce or refer
to all the despatehes, for fear parliament should
fall toexamineparticulardespatehes, wherein they
could not but find many contradictions, "and be-
cause his highness wished to draw on a breach
with Spain without ripping up of private de-
spatches.* In fact, if these documents had been
produced, they would have proved the king to
be an astonishing liar, and they would have dis-
proved nearly everything that Buckingham ut-
tered. Bold in the absence of Bristol, in the ser-
vility and connivance of the lords of the council,
in the countenance of the heir to the throne, in
tbesympathyof the commons and the people, who
were ready to credit anything about the breach
of the mateh, which they always abhorred, the
double favomito solemnly declared, that, after
many years' negotiation, the king had found the
Spaniards as far from coming to an honest de-
cision as ever; that the Earl of Bristol had never
brought the treaty beyond mere professions and
declaratbns on their part (the truth being, that
that ambassador had brought the treaty to a con-
clusion); that the prince, doubting of their sincei^
ity, had gone to Spain himself; that he had there
found such artificial dealing as convinced him
that they were false and deceitful; that the king
his master bad always regarded the restitution

»Google

872

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CiTIL AKD MlLITABT.

of the Falatioate as a pretiminsry ; aod that, io
fine, the prince, after en during ranch iU-treat-
ment, was obliged to retnm home, bereft of all
hope of obtaining either the infanta or the Pala-
tinate. Thia tissue of miareprMentationa was
received with entiiuaiaam by parliament. Old
Coke, in the House of Commons, called Buck-
ingham the aaviour of the natiou, and out of
doore the people sang his praises, lit bonfires,
and insulted the Spanish ambaasodora. Theae
gentlemen protested af^nat the dnke'a ape«ch
aa fidse and injnrious to their eovereign's honour;
but the two houses defended the farourito, and
presently proceeded to declare that their king
could no longer negotiate with honour or safety.
The people were eager for war; but Jamee, in
growingold,had not grown warlike; he trembled,
hung back, talked of the long standing of his
character as a righteona and pacific monarch, of
his debts, of bis poverty ; but it was this very
poverty that forwarded the views of Buckingbam
and his son, who represented that money he
must have ; that there waa no such sure way of
obtaining a round supply as by declaring war
against his Catholic majeaty; and, in the end,
though with sore feare and misgivings, Jamea
resolved to asHume the novel attitude of a belli-
gerent.' The idea made the Spaniards langh.
Qondomar had told them that there were no men
in England, and, if be meant public men, he was
not far wrong; they despised this kingdom, as
weak, poor, disunited, led by a timid king and an
inexperienced prince, whose anger they ridiculed,
comparing it to a revolt of the mice against the
cats. Such had become, in the bands of James,
thethnnderboltsof Elizabeth. But, with unusual
alacrity, the king told the commons that, if they
would vote him money, he would apply it to a
war with Spain ; and, aa he was well aware that
the common! had no confidence in him, he gra-
ciously told them that the money voted might be
given over to a committee of parliament, to be
managed and paid out by them.

The commons took him at his word, and a
joint address from both houses, with an ofier to
support him in the war with their persons and
fortunes, WHS presented to him by Abbot, the
Archbishop of Canterbury — a strange choice,
both because it was unseemly that a churchman
should deliver a message leading to war
blood, and because the archbishop had sworn
with the lords of the council to the Spaniah
treaty. But Abbot had taken that oath most
unwillingly, and it was probably with an ezpres'
sion of joy or even of triumph that he congrati
lated the king on his having become sensible of

n tha Uardinrit Fapiri, than

the insincerity of the Spaniards, for James in-
terrupted him by saying, "Hold! you insinuate
what I have never spoken. Buckingham hath
made you a relation on which you are to judge ;
but I never yet declared my mind upon it."'

Five days after this message, the question of
supplies came on in the commons. The king
asked for £700,000 to b^(in the war, and for
£160,000 per annum to pay hia debts. These
demands made the commons &lter in their war-
like note: but Buckingham and the prince hinted
that a smaller sum wonld be accepted; and, with-
notidng the Idn^s debts, they voted three
subsidies and three fifteenths, making about
£300,000, which waa all to be raised within a
year, to be applied to the war, and to be put into
the hands of treasurers appointed by themselves,
who were to issue money on the warrant of the
council of war, and on no other orders. The
king then declared by proclamation, that the
treaties with Spain were at an end. In their bi-
gotry the lower house forgot their old jealousy
of proclamations, and resolved to petition the
king for another proclamation against the Ca-
tholics ; but the lords objected to this course,
and, in the end, a joint petition from both houaee,
with some of the sting taken out of it, was pre-
sented, praying the king to enforce the penal
statutes. James again called God to witness
that it waa his intention so to do; hia determina-
tion never to permit of any indulgence or to-
leration ; and Prince Charlea also swore that,
if it should please God to bestow upon bim any
lady that was Popish, that she should have no
further liberty but for her own family, and no
advantage to the recusants at home.* All mis-
sionaries were ordered by proclamation to leave
England under the penalty of death; the judges
and magistrates were inatructed to act vigorously ;
and the lord-mayor of London was especially
admoniahed ta arrest all anch peraons as went to
hear mass in the houses of the foreign ambas-
sadors. The commons drew up a list of Catholics
holding places under government, and unani-
mously petitioned for their removal; but these
placemen were saved for the present by the in-
terference of the lords. Patenta and mono-
polies, and the bitter recollection of the manner
in which parliament had been dissolved, still
rankled in the hearta of the commons, end in
their committee of grievances tixy pronounced
some of the patenta illegti], and reserved others
for future examination. The king, much nettled,
told them that he too had hia grievancea to com-
plain of— that they, the commons, bad encroached
on his prerogative and condemned patents that
were very useful, and had sufiered themselves to

be led by the lawyers, who ^

B the

It It qnlta is tha pi^iaUr •tnin.

»Google

AD. 1622—1625.] JAM

grievancefl of »1\. But the commouB were bent
upou etfikiug a blow in higher quarlera ; they
hwl taken their measures for impeai^hing Cran-
field, now Earl of Middlesex, the lord-ti'easurer
of England, and maater of the court of warde, for
deficieiicy, bribery, and oppreasion. This lord-
treasurer was one of thecreatureaof BuclciDgbam,
who had intrigued against him during his absence
in Spain, and ou his return he was leu successful
than Bishop Williams, the lord-keeper, in making
hia peace with the inceused favourite by vile pro-
strations and abjuratiouB. Bnckingham, more-
over, in starting as a fieiy Protestant and patriot,
hail cultivated & good nndi^rstanding with soma
of the leaders of the opposition or country party.
Now these men wanted a victim — not that the
treasurer was not guil ty~and Buck! ngham gladly
gave him up. The king would fain have pro-
tected his servant, and he lost his temper both
with Buckingham and Charles for favouring tlie
impeachment; he told the duke tliat he was a fool,
and was making a rod for his own breech, and
tbe prince that he would live to have his belly-
ful of impeachments.' Nor did he stop here; he
wrote to tell the commons that the lord-treasurer
had not, as they suppoaeil, advised the dissolu-
tion of the last parliament, but, on the contrary,
had b^^d on his knees for its continuance ; he
covered or palliated the treasurei's offences to
the lords; but all this was of no avail, and Mid-
dlesex, Ireiiig only allowed three days to prepare
his defence, was convicted by the unanimous
vote of the peers, condemned to pay a fine of
about £5000, to be imprisoneil during pleasure,
and to be for ever excluded from his seat in par-
liament, and from the verge of the court.' The
country party had also intendeil to impeach the
lord-keeper, Williams, but the supple prelate
was protected by Buckingham, to whom, during
the session, he rendered a moat important piece
of secret service.

While James trembled, and talked of the bless-
edness of peace, his son and the duke, in his
name and with the concurrence of parliament,
attandeti to the nusingof troops and the conclud-
ing of alliances against the house of Austria, for
the humbling of Spain, and for the recovery of
the Palatinate. "This spring gave birth to four
brave regiments of foot (a new apparition in tbe
English horizon), 1500 in a regiment, which were
raised and transported into Holland, under four
gallant colonels, the Earls of Oxford, Southamp-
ton, and Essex, and Lord Willoughby."' The
Dutch were already at war with the Spaniards,

'Oamdm. » Juuninlj.- fliu*icortft. > Ar))tar Wilmn.

* "Jnam, tboiilli »ii ibid mm, nu • "Mfc monnnh. Hii
qnkkim of ftppfehciiijon ftnd scundnHfl of jodgbifliit wtra
dutthI by hia cnnluUl)' Bnd jjirtialltlM. hij cbilduh tean ami

•f Ucir. Iw «»nled Ibr «pirtt uhI ifl»liiliou lo «► «■ • tovHuigi..

js I. ais

who had invaded their territory under the com-
mand of the great Italian general Spinola.'

A fearful tragedy, enacted on a small island in
the Eastern Ocean, should have seemed likely to
make this Dutch alliance unpopular with the
English people. Ever since the conclusion of the
long truce at the Hague, the Butch had been
colonizing and ti-ading on a moat extensive scale
in the seas of India and China. Among other
islands they possessed Amboyna, one of the Mo-
lucca or Spice Islands, which they bad taken
from the Portuguese. They pretended not only
an absolute sovereignty over this ialand^part of
which continued to be occupied for some years
by independent natives — but also an exclusive
right to the spice trade in all that archipelago.
Their friends and allies the English soon became
desirous of sharing in this profitable trafSc; they
sent some ships to obtain cloves from the natives,
and in 1612 the East India Company formed a
little settlement at Cambello, in Amboyna, from
which they were forced to retire two years aftor.
In 1619 a treaty was concluded in London, by
which the English thought themselves entitled to
share in the trade; but the Dutch settlers and the
local government were jealous in the extreme,
and they had recently seized Captain Gabriel
Towerson and nine Englishmen, with nine poor

Foot Boldifr with FOKotCBe, »,o. 1<!S.
Frgm ttejncVt Anciept Atmour.

Japanese, and one Portuguese, liad charged them
with a conspiracy to surprise the ganison and
expel the Dutch from Amboyna, had tortured

,v Google

374

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CivrL A

) MtLITABr.

them till they confessed what was an impoaai-
bility or a flitting dream of madDein,' and had
then cut off their heads or etraugled them.
The news of this atrocious proceeding reached

EngUnd just at the momeut that Buckingham
wss prepartDg to saaist the Dutch in their own
country. The English court made formal re-
moDstrancesi the States apologized and promised

redress; and the "massacre of Amboyna," as
it WKS called hy the people, was lost sight of
for a time. Though it was the high notion of
Buckingham to make this a war of religion, it
was found necesanry to include ia the league the
Catholic states of France, Savoy, and Venice,
who were led on by their jealousy of the house
of Austria. After the Dutch, the Proteetaut
powers that contracted were Denmark, Sweden,
nnd some of the German states, who all required
subsidies in English money. The first object to
lie achieved was the expulsion of the Spaniards
frum the Netherlands, and of the Spaniarda,
Anstrians, and Barariana from the Falatiuate.
The result of the campaign, as far as the English
were engaged, may be told in a few words of
shame and disgrace. The GOOO men already in
Holland acted as auxiliaries to the Dutch army
commanded by Prince Maurice of Orange, who
soon felt himself overmatched by Spinola. The
Italian took Breda before the prince's eyes.

CD.— Fiom U<7[ic4'a Ancltnt Anuouc.

Maiiricemovedupou the castle of Antwerp, which
he was informed had been left with a weak gar-
rison; and he was ao confident of taking it, that
he would have none but the Dutch with him.
Here alao he failed, "And so, with some few
little bickeriogs of smalt parties of horse, betwixt
two entrenched armies, the whole summer was
ahuffled away;" and, winter approaching. Prince
Maurice retired to winter-quarters. The prince
died at the Hague: the Earl of Southampton and
other Euglish officers returned home to England.
During the summer, Count Mansfeldt, one of the
former heroes of the Palatinate war, was em-
ployed in raising mercenaries on the Continent,
and in the autumn he embarked from Zealand
to procure Engliah money and English troops
which had been promised him. The ship which
bore him was wrecked ; the English captain and
ci-ew were drowned: but Mansfeldt, with some
of hia followers, escaped in the long boat and got
safe to England. There was at least one person
here who wished the waves had swallowed him
— and this was King James, who for some time
would not admit the adventurer to an audience.
But, in the end, Mansfeldt obtained the promise
of £20,000 per month, and of the command of
12,000 Englishmen, who were to be levied by
press. These pressed men when raised were
fitter to march through Coventry than to retrieve

Dintizooov Google

A.D. 1629—1633.] JAM

the BomewhRt taniished honour of the Britieh
urns. No time wiia allowed to train and disci-
pline them; thej were marched to Dover (where
aevenJ of them wei-e hanged), and then hurried
on bosrd ship. The court had negotiated for
their ptuMge through a part of Fraiice, but when
they appeared off Calais they were refused a
lauding. Hansfeldt thence led them to the island
of Zealand, where the Dutch were scarcely more
willing to receive them than the French had
been. When, at laat, Mansfeldt reached the
Rhine and the border of the Palatinate, he found
that more than one-half of bis army was gone,
a&d that it would be Imposwble for him to under-
take any offensive operationa

While these evente were in progress, nay, even
before the warlike note was sonnded, and before
the Spanish match was actually broken off, a
new matrimonial treaty waa set on foot with
fVance for the hand of Loui^ sister, Henrietta
Maria. Some time before, Lord HerbMtof Cher-
huiy, the resident ambassador, was assured by
the favourite De Lnynes, that if there were any
overture made for such a match, it should be
received with all honour and affection. An over-
ture wot made; and it was thought fit, for the
concluding of the match, that the Earl of Car-
lisle and Lord Keusiugtou — created on the occa-
sion Earl of Holland — should be sent as ambas-
sadors extraordinary to France.' It was in this
embassy that Haydiaplayedall his pomp and ex-
travagance; but though a sensualist and a solemn
fop, the Scottish Earl of Carlisle was destitnte
neither of abilities nor spirit Bnt he had to
■neasare himself against one of the most wonder-
ful of men — the incomparably crafty and resolute
Cardinal Richelieu, who had now established n
sort of dictatorship over both the court and the
nation, and who was at once a ruthless tyrant
and a benefactor to France. Richeliea, who was
moat eager to defeat Charles's Spanish match,
was all obaequionsnesB till it was absolutely bro-
ken off, and then he " stood upon his tip-toes,"
reaolving not to abate a jot of the articles of re-
ligion, and of liberty to the Catholics of Eng-
land, which had been agreed upon with Spain.
This was ezcesaively inconvenient to King James
and Prince Charles, who only six months before
had both tdtrnvig vovied that they would never
tolerate the Papiata. In fact, when the proposal
was made, they were peiTuitting a fresh persecu-
tion of the recnssnta. James, however, signed
a private paper, promising favour to the Ca-
tholics, without which the pope would not grant
the dispensation.* Carlisle presented this docu-
ment, and endeavoured to convince Richcliei:

•iifinflfinlBBlilrt.

I Idrd NltlMilala. > CUholk, km Hnl t

•ulhwKin.

JS I. 373

and hifl colleagues that it was security enough.
"But," Bay they, "we did sing a soug to the
deaf, for they would not endure to hear of it"
"In the next place," continue these diplomatista,
" we offered the same to be signed by his high-
ness (Prince Charles) and a secretary of state,
wherein we pretended to come home to their
own asking; but this would not serve the turn
neither." Carlisle made a good stand, and would
have bartered a toleration in England for French
troops to be sent into the Palatinate. He re-
peated words which they had used at the flrst
opening of the negotiation — " Give us priests,"
said the cardinal, "and we will give you colonels,"
"Give us pomp and ceremony to content the
pope," said another, "and we will throw our-
selvee wholly in your interests." " Yes," said the
chancellor, " we will espouse all your interests
as if they were our own." They confessed to
these expressions, but pretended that they had
already done enough in joining the league. Cai^
lisle made several good struggles, but he waa
badly supported. Secretary Conway, whose in-
structions and despatchefl seem to have been dic-
tated entirely by Charles and Buckingham, be-
came very obscure or ambiguous"' After some
negotiation, Richelieu consented to the icHt teeret,
as it was styled in French diplomacy, and Car-
lisle dropped the question of the French army
for the Palatinate. The secret promise imported
that James would permit all his Roman Catholic
aubjects to enjoy greater franchise and freedom
of religion than they would have enjoyed in vir-
tue of any articles of the Spanish treaty of mar-
riage. This paper was duly signed in November,
by James, by Charles, and by a secretary of state ;
and a copy of the engagement was signed by
Carlisle and Holland. The marriage treaty was
signed and ratified by the solemn oaths of King
James and King Louis. But even after this the
French ministers raised a fresh objection. They
represented that the secret promise was conceived
in general or vague terms, and they demanded
that Jamee should specify the favours he in-
tended. C^liale was indignant, and niconiniended
a reeistanoe to this demand, but James and hia
son feared to try the temper of Richelieu and the
qneen-mother, and they snbmitted to the specift-
cation of the three following apticles:-—!. That
all Catholics in prison for their religion since the
rising of parliament should be set free. 2. That
all fines levied on them since that period ibonld
be repaid. 3. That, for the future, they might
freely exercise their own worship in private.
There was another incident of a very different
kind, which occurred during the latter part of
these negotiations, to the great alarm of James.
The Huguenots, or "those of the religion,' as

I

»Google

378

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

[C.V

D Hi LI TART.

ftiej were oUled in France, had received h&nh
treatment from Louie; Sonbiee, who was now at
their head, and who at one time had maintuned
Teiy friendly relations with Bome members of
the English goverumect, seized upon the island
of Bh6,near Rochelle, fortified it, fitted out some
ships, and prochiimed that be would not lay
down his arms till he obtained a better security

for the obserration of the public faith and the
ediete granting toleration to French Proteetant«.
Carlisle declwwd this proceeding to be unad-
vised, nnseasooable, ahameful; the French coort
agreed to believe that the English Protestants
had nothing to do with the movement ; and the
lively Henriett* Maria prepared for her removal
to England. Her portion was fixed at 800,000

B.'— From ■ pictore b/ VIokeDbooiis. in ths Fltmilliui Muh

■t Cambndga.

11 sum compared with the dower
which had been promised with the infanta.

But James did not live to see the arrival either
of the money or of the long-sought daughter-in-
law. His health had long been breaking under
the united inBuences of anxiety, fear, full-feed-
ing, and continual use of sweet winee; and he
returned to Theobalds from his last hunting
party with a disease which the doctors called a
tertian ague. But it should appear that he had
also the worst kind of gout upon him. He had
always entertained a great aversion to medicine
and physicians, but at this extremity all the
court doctors were called in. While they were
in attendance, Buckingham's mother presented
herself with an infallible remedy, in the shape
of a plaster and a posset, which she had procured
from one Remington, a quack living in Essei,
where, it was said, he had cored many agues.
It should appear that the piaster was applied and
the drink given contrary to the advice of the

phj'sicians. They may have produced irritation
and done mischief ; hut we cannot believe that
they were the cause of the death of James, or
even intended to haatea his end. On the four-
teenth day of his illness, being Sunday, the 27th
of March,* he sent before day-break for the
prince, who rose out of his bed and went to him
in his night-gown. The king seemed to have some
earnest thing to say to him, and so endeavoured
to nuse himself upon his pillow; but his spirits
were so spent that he had not strength to make
his words audible. He lingered for a few hours,
and then " went to hie last rest, upon the day of
rest, presently after sermon was done." ' Jamea
was in his fifty-ninth year, and he had been
twenty-two years King of England. As soon ae
the breath was out of his body the privy conncil.
or all the members of it that were at Theobalds,
aaeemhled, and in less than a quarter of au
hour King Cliarles was proclaimed at Theobalds
court-gate by Sir Edward Zouch, knight-mar«hal.

1 The jmUtm al ThnbaUi wi> •ItusMd ft
[>*d to Wjmh, »bont twelTs milai from landc

TOtitttf toot A ftaaj to

It ThKiUld^ ontUng hitn ftum 22000 U Z.^OOO su
DDiiii nun In (boo dajt. Atlet tha diotti of Lend E
L&B«. bli KD Hir RoljRi CiKil. urtorwsrdi Eul o1

tattrtMiaod the kia^ at

hlB VD ChiiTlw L la lUO, bj order of pftrlUawnt, thAfnatv
part ■•• IsTiUad with tb« sraond tat lbs itkt of Uw nUniilt ;

lhniu(h tiricnv kudi, it hud bvn pnrchMnd b; Mr. PnBDtt

»Google

A.D. 1625—1027.1

CHARLES L

CHAPTER VI.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1625—1627.

CHARLES I. — ACCESSION, A.D. 1625— DEATH, A.D. 1G49.

ii— Her arrival in England— Her trnin of PopUU
' mtricted iupplj — Tbeir ap pUcatioiu Tor religioui
of the FroBcU HugnenoU — Money refiued for the
it — It« dinolution — UuiuccestJiil eipeditiaa agiinet

xemon ot Cliarlei 1.— Hb marriage with IlenrietU Mai
prieeU—Charle* applies to pBrliiment for Inonef— Theii
refuruii- Diicontcut at Cbarles'a proceedings ia the var
proMCution of the war — Bold remonstrance of parliajuer

Spain — BuclcinEbam's proceedingt to precipitate a war iridi France — Uia intalent conduct to Queea lienrietta
— Charles revirei the old Etitnt«e agaiiiat Fapiste — Hii coronation — Opening of parliament — [Is iirocefldinga
In the reform of abnaoa — Charlei interferei — Opposition of the common* to hin interference — They iuipeacli
the Duke ot Buckingham— Cliarlei qimrrels with the Houw of Lords— Accusations of tlie E.rl of Bristc]
agaiDtt tlie Duke of Bock ingham— The duke's trbl— The proceedtngs interrupted by tlie king— lie confers
additional honouia on Bnckingham- Parliament dissolred- Despotic meagnres of Cbarles to raise money —
Discoutoot occasioned by thsni^His proceedings defended from the pulpit — Fiuitaniun thereby increased —
Charles drives the queen's priest* ont of tlie kingdom — Complaints of the French court in coiiseqnence-
Aniwei of the English conncil — War agunst France commence^ — Bucluughani'a expedition for the relief uf
Kocbelle— Hii attempts on the island of Sh6— His unwise and inelBcient proceedingi— Ui> minone retreat-
Hii nelcome &om Charles at Lis return to England.

J N the afterooou of Monday, the
!■ 28th of March, Charles took coach

Sat Theobalds nitb the Duke of
BuckiDgham, and came to Whit*-
halL Oa tlie same (laj he wae
, - ., ^ - M procluimed at Whitehall- gate and
iu Uheapaide, in the midst of a sad shover uf
i-ain; and the weather was thought suitable to
the condition iu which he found the kiDgdom.
A fen days after, the
plague broke ont in
Whitechapel, whence it
ext«nded its ravages to
everypart of London, It
was said to be even a
woi-se plague than that
which raged at the time
of his father's corona-
tion. Cliarles re-appoin-
ted the council and the
officers of goverumeut,
making scarcely any
change. Buckingham
stood forward more jxiw-
erfa] aud vainglorious
than ever. There was,
however, some change
for the better at court;
the fools, and buffoons,
and other familiars of
James were dismissed,

the courtiers were required to be attentive to re-
ligion, and modest and quiet in tbeir demeanour,
and they generally became, if not more moral, tar
more decorous. In a few days after the accession,
it was reported of the new sovereign that he was
realous for Qod's truth, a diligent frequeut«r of
Vol. II,

the chureh, and an attentive listener to pi-ayers
and sermons; that lie intended to i>ay all liis
father's, mother's, and bralhet'sdebte; and that, by
diaparkiiig most of liis remote porks and chases,
to reform the court of uimecesaary charges, aud
to drive from it all recusant Papists. On the
30th of March, three days after his futliei's
death, Charles ratified, na king, the treaty with
France ; and on the 1st of May the marriage
ceremony wns i«rformed
at Paris- the Duke of
Chevreuae, a member of
the house of Ouise, act-
ing as Charles's prosy.
Buckingham wns ap-
})oiuted to hriug the bride
to England, and he pi-o-
ceeded with an immense
retinue to Paris, wliere
he dazzled all eyes with
his splendour. This
man's gallantry waa not
J checked by the national
shyness of Englishmen ;
tor he had acareely set
foot iu the French court,
when he declared love to
the young queen, Anne
of Austria. The Cardi-
I.— anor vuHijiiB. nal Bichelieu made all

the baste he decently
could to get htm back to England, and, after
eight days, Buckingham left Paris, with Hen-
rietta Msria. They travelled very slowly, or
stopped very frequently; for though they be-
gan their journey on the 83d of May, they did
not ruch Dover tjll the 12lh of June iu th*

m

,v Google

378

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

evening. That niglit the joang qDeun slept in
Dover Castle. On tbe morrow moming Cbarlee,
who had slept at Canterbnry, rode to Dover to
receive hia wife. They met in the castlei the
bride knelt down at hia feet, and would have
kissed his hand, but the king took her up in hta
arms and kissed her with many kiasee. The
royal conple proceeded together to Canterbury,
on the following day to Rochester, the day after
to Gravesend, and, on tbe 16tli, there being a
very great shower, the king and queen, in the
royal bai^ge, passed through London bridge to
Whitehall. Notwithstanding the rain and the
plagne, the Londoners crowded tbe river and ita
banks to get a sight of the bride, whose appear-
ance and cheerful mannem gave them mack
satiafactton. Btoriea were soon circulated of her
wit, and freedom from bigotry. It waa Biud
(and the thing woa considered very important)
tliat ahe had eaten pheasant and venison on a
faat-day, Qotwithatanding the remonatrance of
her confeaaor, and that, upon being asked if she
could abide a Huguenot, she replied, "Why
not? — was not my father one?* In ahtot, be-
fore she had been four- and -twenty hours at
Whitehall, it was joyfully announced that she
had already given some good signs of hope that
■be might ere long become a very good Protes-
tant. But in a few days these bright hopes
seemed to fade; and people began to count the
great number of priests she had brought over in
her train, and to murmnr at the idolatiy of the
mass being again set up in tbe palaces of their
kinga. She had twenty-nine priests, fourteen of
them Theatines,' and fifteen seculars, bendea a
bishop, a youug man under thirty years of age.
On Sundays and aoints' days mass was celebrated
in the qneen'a closet at Whitehall, Charles giving
strict orders that no English man or woman
should come near the place during the celebra-
tion. The priests were very importunate to have
a large chapel finiahed at St. Jamea'a, but the
king was very slow in gratifying them in this
particular. If the IVencb princess had been the
most excellent and amiable of womep, theee cir-
cnmstances would have rendered her odioua in
the eyes of the nation ; but Henrietta Maria,
though lively and pleasant, when pleased, was
fM the most amiable of women: ^e was self-
willed, obstinate, haughty, and overbearing, and
began to show her temper, even in public, before

[Civil axd MiUTABr.

she bad been a fortnight in England.* Mean-
while, the plague grew worw and woiae. In tbe
eyes of the Puritans the inference was obvious —
the land waa scourged for relapidng into idolatry.
Charles had iasned writs for a parliament io
meet on the 17th of May; but in consequence of
two prorogations, it did not asaemble till the
10th of June, the very day after his arrival at
Whitehall with his queen. Though not yet
crowned, he wore the crown on hia head. The
young king (he was in his twenty-fifth year) was
no orator, and be had the defect of stammering;
but tbe words of his first address were plain and
sensible. Instead of trying the patience of the
bouses with long, rambling, pedantic speeches,
he went at once to the point. He wanted money,
and be told them so. In fact, the debts which
his father had left amounted to £700,000; be ha<l
already contracted considerable debts of his own ;
and the money voted for the war was long since
swallowed up. He did not bint at a peace;* he
aaid, on tbe contrary, that tite war must be
pushed with vigour, and here minded them that
they tbemselvee had voted a recourse to arms,
and, therefore, the war being their own work, the
dishonour would lie upon them, if it were not
followed up with spirit from a want of the na-
cesaarv supplies. But U)ough atill inclined to
hostilities with Spain and the Catholics, the
commons knew by this time that the war had
been most miserably conducted. They now bated
and suspected Buckingham, whose popularity
bloomed and died almost as fast aa a flower;
and they required from tbe new king, who hail
already declared against concession, some pledges
of an extenuve reform. In this temper they
limited their votes to two subsidies (about
£140/XI0), and the duties of tonnage and pound-
age, not for life, aa had been practised tor two
ceuturies, but for one yesir. T^ey were also dia-
treaaed by the anomalous position of the king —
the head of the Protestant league, the chief of
a war of religion, or what they at least meant
should be such — and yet suffering mass to be
celebrated in his own house, and his court to
swarm with Papists and priests. They pre-
sented a "a pious petition" to hia majes^, con-
juring him to put into immediate esecution all
the penal statutes against Catholics and mia-
sionories. Charles had promised, bad ugned,
and sealed, and solemnly ewom, in hia matri-

Bded at RoRW la ISM, bj John Pats- Cuaini,
Fin] IV.,Uiai AndibUiopiifClilaU.irTbHta,

\n tba pmrinn o/ Ahnuxf, In tb« kLnfdom oi Nftpla
• Umia, In oot lit hit spiMla, fina tht IbUawl^ j-- n

fnm ■ lelUr nittui b; hia cmn-btqaaUiit Msod, Mr.

U rlittti, but (till of ^ilt nd
Wltbou

' AltboaEh tnoin hud bam aut to Hidlaad did tb* RhlBa.
1 vu had ban dsoluad ifiliut uj caa aithaT at Chaito'a
laaaaliiBaraHbadlaaiilutlanDfMnUUpartliuiiepl IfOiarta*

,v Google

w 1625—1627.}

CHARLES I.

379

moiiial treaty with Franue, to do no such thing ;
but he dunt Dot &vow this engagement, and he
returned & gndoua auBwer to the petition of the
conunoDS. lu aoother matter, however, he waa
leas timid and complying. One of his chaplains,
[>r.]itintague,Uieeditorof his father^ works, waa
» decided chjuupian of those teneta for and bj
which lAud afterwards set the kingdom ia a blaze.
He taught and wrote that there was a mouHtroua
difference between the doctrines of Calvin and
the Puritans and thoae entertMiied by the Angli-
can church, and that in many points the Estab-
lished church agreed more dosety with that of
Rome than with that of Qenevu. Two Puritan
miuiaten drew up su information agaiuat the doc-
tor's heresy, to be laid before parliament. Mon-
tague thereupon published a tract, which was
called "An Appeal to CRear," and dedicated to
King Charles. Many who read the tract pro-
nounced the author to be a Papiat in disguise,
and one that, under the encouragement of the
court, was att«mpting gradually to re-iutroduce
the old religion. The conunons drew up artidea
against the doctor, declaring him to have " nuun-
taioed and confirmed some doctrine contrary to
the artidee agreed by the archbishops and bishops,
and the whole clergy, in the year 1562; and by
his so doing, to have broke the laws and statutes
of this realm." They took him into custody, and
comnuuided him to appear at the bar of their
house. The king repivsented that it was for
him, and not for them, to take cognizance of the
conduct of hiachaplaiuBi but the commons ro-
plied that they were competent to visit such
offences in a chaplain or in any other servant of
the courti and they would not let the doctor go
tiU he bad given bail iu ^2000 for his ro-appear-
Hnce.' Chariea had expressed iudignation at the
vote of supplies, and the lords threw out the
tonnajce and poundage part of the bill, because
the grant of these dutiea waa not for life. Lord
Conway, the chief secretary, was pressing the
commons for moi-e money, when the plague be-
came ao alarming that many members absented
themaelves, and the king adjouTTied the parha-
menttu the 1st of August, appointing it to meet,
not at Westminster, but at Oxford.*

Previously to the calliug a parliament, Chariea,
of his own authority, had issued warranto for
levyiug troope for the Palatinate; and, having no
money, had exacted that the charges of " coat
sod conduct" should be borne by the people,
who were, in return, to receive a promise of re-
payment from his exchequer. This gave rise to
great discontents, but the king continued the
practice during the recess; and other circumatan-

cea mewiwhile occurmd still further to bring his
government into disrepute. Soubiae and the
Huguenots atiil kept poeaeasion of Bochelle and
the island of Bh£, and the fleet was so powerful
at sea that the French Catholics could not meet
iL . In virtue of the recent alliance. Cardinal
Richelieu applied to the English for assistance
against the French Protestants. Charles and
Buckingham complied; but, to deceive the people,
it was given out tliat the armameut was intended,
not against Bochelle, but against the city of Qenoa,
which was in alliance with the house of Austria,
Ever aince Buckinghaju had been lord-admiral,
the navy bad been wofuUy neglected, in conse-
quence of which the seas were infested by pir&tes,
and the trade of the country frequently mo-
lested. The only man-of-war in a state fit to
put to aea was the Yangvard; bat the French
ministry waa urgent, and so seven merchant
Teasels of the largest size were presaed into the
kin^s aerviceL Buckingham provided the little
fleet with stores and ammunition aa be best could.
The fleet stood across the Channel; but, when off
Dieppe, they learned from the Duke of Montmo-
rency, the Lord-admiral of France, that they were
expected to take on board French sailors and sol-
diers, and theu to proceed to fight against the
Protestanta of Bochelle. Captains aud men in-
stantly refused, drew up a protest or petition,
and forced Penniogtou, the commander of the
little fleet, to sail back to the Dowoa. Penning-
ton himself then begged to be excused going on
such a service; and presently the Duke of Bohan,
Soubisa, and the other Huguenot chiefs, who had
got a hint of wliat waa intended, despatched an
envoy to Loudon, to implore the king not to em-
ploy bis forces against his Protestant brethren.
The envoy bad good words and hopes from Char-
les, but Buckingliam told him that the king, his
master, bad pledged his word, and that the ships
must and should go. The captains and owners
of the merchant vessels, however, represented
that they had been hired and iropreased for the
King of England's service, and they could not be
passed into the hands of the French without
higher orders and a new agreement. Hereupon
Buckingham posted down to Bocheeter with the
French ambassador, who undertook to chairter
the merchants' ships for King Louis. But, in
spite of the high and absolute tone of the favou-
rite, merchants, captains, and men were alike
averse to the sei'vice. In the bc^ning of July,
Secretary Conway wrote a letter in King Char-
les's name to Vice-admiral Pennington, telling
him that bis master had left the comimuid of
the BliijM to the French king, and that he, Pen-
uington, should take on board at Dieppe as many
men as the French pleased, and that tliia letter
was to be his warrant. A trick was put upon

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cim. ASD itlLTt 1ST.

the iHulora — the; if ere toltl again that they were
to go to Oeooa— and they oan more niled to
Dieppe, Peniiington having another letter, writ-
ten by Charles himself, irhich cbft^i^ed and com-
manded bim, without delay, to put hia majeaty'a
ship the Vajiguard into the handa of the French,
and to require the commaudera of the Heveu
luerchant Hhips, in his majesty's ntime, to do the
MLDie, nay, in case of liackwardneBs, to use forci-
ble means, even to Bioking, to compel them. As
«oon aa he reached Dieppe, Pennington delivered
up the Vanguard, *nd acquainted the rest of the
captains with the king's commands. Again, they
nil refused to obey. When they prepared to
heave anchor, Pennington fired into them from
the man'Of-war, and compelled them to stay,
all but the brave Sir Ferdinand Gorge, in the
iVeplune — " more brave in running away from
this abominable action than charging in the midet
of an enemy." The Frenchmen were embarked,
and Pennington led them to Bochelle; but to
make the Englishmen Gght under such circum-
ataiices was beyond his power. They deserted,
and joined the Huguenots, or returned home.
The siege of Rochelle was abandoned, and Char-
lea drew upon himself an almost cruahiiig weight
of odium without being of any use to Louis.'

Un the 1st of August the parliament met in
the good city of Oxford. Charles summoned
both honses to attend him in the ball of Christ
Church, and there asked for more mi
on the war.* A day or two after,
that, notwitbstAoding this demand, and the ear-
nest representations of ministers, the commons
would not vote any more sul»idies, or change
their previous decision about tonnage and pound-
age. They, in fact, apphad themselvea to the re-
dress of grievances, foremost among which they
)ilaced the non-enforcement of the penal statutes
against Papists. Old Coke, more bold and im-
pressive from his great age, denounced new in-
vented ofRcca and useless officers, which cost
much money, ami ought to be abolished ; the mul-
tiplicity of great offices in one man — meaning, of
course, Buckingham ; the prodigality of the court
and household j and the paying of certain pen-
sions, which ought to be stopped nntil the king
was out of debt Other membera denounced with
as much vehemence, if not eloquence, the now
common practice of selling the offices of govern-
ment By this time the Fjirl of Bristol had ex-
plained to many his own conduct and the conduct
of Buckingliani at Madrid; and an inquiry was
jToposed into the mal-ad ministration of the fa-
vourite as lord-ndmirnl, and his having brought

the cooDtcy into a war merely from personal apito
against the Spanish favouri^piiraras. The tone
of the house was bold and resolute. The learned
Sir Robert Cotton, after applauding the "con-
stant wisdom* of the house, as shown in their
censure of that ill-advised minister for trenching
upon their ancient liberties, told them that, nut-
withstanding those walls could not conceal from
the eat« of captious, guilty, and revengeful men
without, the councils and debates within, he
would express his honest thonghts, and show the
crimes for which parliament had impeached other
minions in elder times. He proceeded to give a
history of royal favourites, from the Speusers and
Gftvestons of Edward II. to the Somerset and
Buckingham of the present age, and showed how
the latter was the worst of the two. Bucking-
ham, at the desire of the king, presented an ae-
count'of the navy, and a denial of having acted
through personal feelings in the quarrel with
Spain. His tone was mild and gentle — almost
pathetic in speaking of his loss of the commons'
favour— but wheu be alluded to the Earl of
Bristol, he could not conceal his deadly hatred.
When they l^ad sat nine days, the commons were
told from the king that his business required a
speedy despatch ; that the plague might touch
them, and that he desired a present answer about
his supplies ; that if they would not give such
answer without loss of time, he would take more
care of their health than they themselves seemeil
disfioaed to take, and shift for himself as he could.
They were debating upon the subject of a sup-
ply, but were not inclined to be very liberal with-
out some tender of redress, when this threat of
dissolution reached their ears. A most animated
debato eusued, and they appointed a committee
to prepare their answer. This proved to be a
spirited but respectful declomtion, putting foi^
ward abuses, but not refusinf; fresh supplies.
They told his majesty that they were abundantly
comforted by his majesty's late gracious answer
touching their religion, and his message for the
care of their health, and they solemnly vowed
and protestcl before God and the worid, with one
heart and voice, that they would ever continue
most loyal and obedient servants. But, they
added, "We will, in a convenient time, and iu a
parliamentary way, freely and dutifully do our
utmost endeavours to discover and reform the
abuses and grievances of this realm and state,
and in like sort to afford all necessary supply to
his moat excellent majesty upon his present ocix-
sions and designs: most humbly beseeching our
said dear and dread sovereign, in his princely
wisdom and goodness, to rest assured of the true
and hearty affections of his poor oommous; anil
to esteem the same to be (as we conceive it is iu-
deed] the greatest worldly reputation and aecu-

,v Google

JLD. 1625—1627.]

chaiu.es L

ritj tliat a juBt king can bnvei and to account all
such aa alnndBrera of tbe people's affections, and
enemies to the commonwealth, that shall dure u,j
the contntTj." This declaration was passed aa
the sense of the houne, but thej bad not had time
to present it when thej were auddeniy summoned
to the lords, to hear the king's commission for
dissolving the parliament. Thus inauspiciously
ended, on the ISth of August, the first parlia-
ment under Charles.

During this Oxford session of twelve days he
of course obtuned not a farthing; but he fancied
that he could take monej from the pockets of his
subjects in right of his prerogative without con-
sent of parliament; and the haro-brained Buck-
ingham, who had been the instigator of the haatj
dissolution, cheered htm with prospects of great
wealth to be obtained by the plunder of Spain.
Writs under the privy seal were issued to the
nobility, grutry, axwl clergy, calling upon them to
lend money to bis majesty ; and wherever any
reluctance was encountered, threats of vengeance
were employed ; thedntiea of tonnage and pound-
age were levied though the bill had not passed;
the salarietr of the serviuiU of government were
left in arrears ; the amusements and even the
duly table' at court were trenched upon in order
to save money for the fitting out of an expedi- '
tion, which, according to the calculation of the
favourito, wonld pay cent, per cent. By these
means an anny of 10,000 men waa collected on
the western coast, ships of war were fitted out,
and merchant vessels engaged as transports, and
armed. Not a word was said about the destina-
tion of these forces — Buckingham's blow was to
faU by snrpriae.' The States of HolUnd con-
tributed a squadron of Bizt«en sail; the English
fleet counted eighty sail. The command of both
fleet and army was given to Sir Edward Cecil,
now created Lord Wimbledon, a general who had
served with very bad success in the Palatinate
and the Low Oonutries, This appointment of a
mere landsman surprised and vexed the seamen,
who looked upon Wimbledon with contempt. It
belonged properly to Sir Robert Mansel, Vice-
ndminU of England, and an experienced sailor,
in case the high-admiral himasLF went not; but
Buckingham, for selfish motives, made the odd
choice, and then peiaiated in it. The fleet set
sail in the month of October. In the Bay of Bis-
cay the ships were damaged and in part scat-
tered by a storm. 0ns vessel (the Limg Robin)
foundered with 170 men on board. This was but
the beginning of misfortune. The confusion of
orders wss such, that the officers and soldiem

or SaUibniTU

scarcely knew whom to command or whom to
obey. When he got in sight of the Spanish
shores, Wimbledon called a council of war, the
usual and dangerous resource of incompetent com-
manders. His instructions, like those given to
the great Drf^fce in former times, were, to inter-
cept the Plato ships from America, to scour the
Spauieb coast, and destroy the shipping in the
ports. But where should he begin? In the coun-
cil of war some recommended one point, some
another ; in the end, it was detei'mined to make
for Cadiz Bay. But while they were consulting,
the Spaniards got notice of their approach, and
prepared to receive them. Moreover, Wimble-
don allowed seven large and rich Spanish ships
to escape him, and siul into the bay, where they
afterward (when he had effected his landing) did
him great mischief with their ordnance. A sud-
den attack on the shipping at Cadiz and Port
Santa Maria could hardly have failed even now,
but the land admiral preferred taking ships by
land— perhaps be meant to take and plunder Ca-
diz, as Essex had done— and disembarking his
troops, he took the paltry fort of PuntaL Then
he moved towards the bridge which connects the
lala de Leon with the continent, to cut off the
communication. No enemy was seen on this
short march; but in the wine-cellare of the coun-
try, which were broken open and plnndered, a
foe was found which has ever been more danger-
ous to undisciplined English troops than bullets
and pikes. The men got drunk, and became un-
manageable. Lord Wimbledon, OS the best thing
he could do, led them back to the ships, leaving
some hundreds of stragglers to fall under the
kuivee of the enraged peasantry. There still re-
mained the hope of intercepting the Plate fleet,
but an infectious disease broke out in Lord De-
laware's ship, and in consequence of an insane
order given by Wimbledon, that the sick should
l>e distributed into tLe healthy ships, the malady
was spread exceedingly. After beating about for
eighteen days with a dreadful mortality on boarri,
and without a glimpse of the fleet from the New
World, Wimbledon resolved to carry his dishon-
oured flag home again, " which was done in a
confused manner, and without any observance of
sea orders." With the troops and crews dread-
fully reduced, with sickness in every ship, and
without a single prize of the least value, Wim-
bledon anived at Plymouth, to be hissed and
hooted by the indignant people. This sorry and
unsucceasful return of an expedition which had
cost him so much was a grievous blow to Charles.
As Buckingham's plan for enriching his master
with the produce of the Spaniard^ mines of
Mexico and Peru had thus failed, the favourite
undertook to go over to the Dutch, and raise
money by pawning the crown jewels and plate;

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil ahd Miutabt.

and t« the Hague he went, t&king with him those
articles and the Earl of Holland, who is said to
have governed him as much as he governed the
king. He raised some .£300,000 among the
moDey-lendera; drew closer the treaty of alliance
witli the States- and negotiated with other Pro-
testant powera, which sent their agents to treat
with him. From the Hague he would have pro-
ceeded to Paris, but his amorous impudence
had given much disgust there, and Richelieu in-
formed him that hia return to that capital could
not be suffered. This messi^, added to some
preceding circumstanoe almost entirely personal
to Bncltingham, had the effect of giving an en-
tirely new direction to the policy of England.
In hia wrath, Buckingham woald at once have
undone what he had done only a few months
before. His friend Holland and Sir Dudley
Carleton, who went to Puria in hia atead, were
instructed to denund the immediate restitution
of the English ships which had been lent to
Louis, and to tell that king that he ought to
make peace with his
Protestant subjects, with
whom they, the ambas-
sadora, were to open a
secret correspondeuoe,
giving them assurance
that the Kingof EngUnd
would assist them, aud
asking them what force
they could raise in case
of Charles's declaring
war against Louis. For
the present, Richelieu
waa enabled to conjure
the storm, but he was
obliged to submit to
several indignities aud
breaches of treaty on the
liartof the English court
Apart from any con-
sideration of religion,
Charles had conceived

a violent dislike of the

Fi-euchmen and piiesta
that had come over with

his young wife; and, if the truth is told of them,
they must have been a most intriguing and
troublesome crew. Henrietta Maria, naturally
enough, took the part of her countrymen and
ghostly comfoi-ters, and this led to frequent quar-
rels with her husband. Charles rejiorted all bis
conjugal troubles to Buckingliam, and Bucking-
ham did all he could to provoke fresh ones. The
favourite was not only jealous of the influence of
the young queen, but also disgusted with her
whole nation ; and ha was still further inceni
against her by some accidenUI, or probably

tentional slights, which she put upon his intrigu-
ing and insolent mother. One day the unmanly
minion entered her apartment in a grrat passion,
and, after some rude expostulation, told her she
should repent it. Her majesty answering with
some quickness, he told her insolently that there
had been queens in England who had lost their
heada. On the 20th of November Charles wrote
from Hampton Court to inform Steenie that he
had fully made up his mind to cashier all the
Monsers (Meaaieurs), and send them back to
France. On the same day, however, when his
pssuon cooled, he wrote another letter to Uie
favourite, telling him that the thing must be
done with management and delicacy. "You
must, therefore," says Charles, "advertise my
mother-in-law that I must remove all those in-
stmmenta that are the causes of unkindnees be-
tween her daughter and me, few or none of the
servants being free of this fault in one kind or
other."' The favourite was then on the Conti-
nent, and had not as yet received the interdict
of the cardinal. He was
thinking of a gay viut
to Paris, aud therefore,
as it appears, he begged
his master to be patient
under his domestic
grievances. Some time
after, Charles writes to
him that hia "wife be-
gins to mend her man-
ners." "I know not,"
adds his majesty, " how
long it will oontinue, for
they say it is by advice."'
When Buckingham re-
tni'ned, full of rage, from
the Continent, violent
quarrels began a

It

lETTA Uaua, lluBui at Cbula I.— AlUr Vmuljks

thought that the queen's
wrvanta would refuse to
take the oath of allegi-
ance,and it whs tenderetl
to them as a means of
getting rid of them, but
they all took it except the priests.

Notwithstanding his open declaration to the
council that he abhorred the name of parliament,
Charles saw that he must inevitably meet that
body again, and that soon. Whatever sums had
been borrowed abroad by Buckingham, or ex-
torted at home under the privy seal, were ab-
sorbed by arrears, and all things were at a stand-
still for want of money. In hia own complaints
against the French attendants we do not find any
great stress laid upon their religion, but he knew

' Uaniaidx SUUt Fv^ri.

»Google

A.D. 1625—1627.] CHAE

veiy well th&t their faith and open practice of it
were their real crimes in the ejea of his people.
Leaving, bowerer, the French for the present,
he sought to gatHiy the intolerance of the com-
mons and the people by peraecuting and annoy-
ing the £ngliab-tx>m Catholica, in doing which
he broke the treaty <4 matrimony, to which he
iiad so solemnly awom. No doubt he was the
mora ready to renve the old statutes againet
recQsants, because they offered a source of re-
venue in the Hhape of fines and forfeits. He is-
sued orders to hia Frutestaut magistratea to hunt
np the game, and he appointed a commiaaion to
levy fines on the Catholics r he commanded, by
proclamations, the immediate return of all Eng-
lish children and youths that were studying in
Catholic Mminariea on the Continent, and the
instant departure out of England of all priests
and misaionariea. H« also resolved, by the advice
of his council, to disarm all the Fopiah lords. In
the execution of this order, which implied an
odious searching of men's houses, great c&re was
token to give no offence to the family and con-
nections of the favourite, who, mother and all,
were known or snnpected Catholics.' But upon
other noble families who had no such relation-
ship with the favourite, the blow fell with un-
mitigated severity. The magistrates, their spies,
and emisaariea searched castles and roanor-hooses
as if there hod been anew Gunpowder Plot; and
many an irritating scene occurred, not without
a mixture of the ridiculous and farcical. The
flench court remonstrated apon this fresh per-
secution, and reminded Charles of hia treaty and
bis oath; but this ouly piqued him, without
effecting any change in favour of the recusants.

Having thus done something for popularity,
the king devised how he might clear the House
of Commons of some of its most obnoxious mem-
ben, and he hit upon an artifice which was sin-
gularly transparent and bnngling. Persona act^
ing as sheriffs could not ait in parliament, and,
therefore, when the jadges presented the list of
sheriffs for the ensuing year, he struck out seven
names, and wrote in their places those of Sir
Edward Coke, Sir. Thomas Wentworth, Sir
Francis Seymour, Sir Robert Phillips, Sir Qrey
Palmer, Sir William Fleetwood, and Mr. Edward
Alford, seven members who had given him the
most trouble in the late parliament, and who
were all resolute in their intention of impeach-
ing the faronrit«.*

The opening of the session was

A.n. 1626. fixed for the 6th of Februorj-. The
king was to have been crowned at Christinas, but

tor several reasons — we believe the want of money
may have been the principal — that ceremony was
not performed till the 2d of February. There
were several things too striking to be omitted,
which occurred in the ceremonial of this great
Thursday. The qaeen, as a Catholic, was neither
crowned nor present in the Abbey. They offered
to have a place fitted up for her, bnt she pre-
ferred occupying a window of a room at the
palace gate, whence she might see them go and
return without witneaaing the religioua cere-
monies, which she hod been taught to consider
as heretical and damnable. It ia mentioned by
a careful relater of small things, that while her
majesty stood at the window looking on the pro-
cession, her French ladies were frisking and
dancing in the room. An important part was
played in the Abbey by Laud, now Bishop of St.
David's, prebendary of Westminster, and on the
highroad to greater promotions, being much dis-
tinguished and favoured both by Buckingham
and Charles. Buckingham was lord-constable
for the day: in ascending the steps to the throne
he took the right hand of the king, and offered
hia left to hia majesty, -who, putting it by witli
his right hand, helped up the duke, saying to
him, with a smiling couutenance, "I Iiave as
much need to help you, as you to nsaiat me.'
When the archbishop prteented Charles, bare-
headed, to the people, the people preserved a dead
ulence, and not one word followed the primate's
adjuration for the usual ^jplauding welcome, till
my Lord Arundel, the earl-marsbal, told them
they should cry out "Qod save King Charles ! '
□pon which there followed a. little shouting. The
unction — the anointing of the king's naked
ahouldere, arms, haods, and head — things most
abominable in the eyes of the Puritans, and ridi-
culous in the eyea of many other men — were all
done behind a traverse or screen, and were per-
formed by Archbishop Abbot, who, notwith-
standing the absolution he hod obttuned from
King Jamea, was atill suspected ss being un-
cononical and irregular, from his accidental kill-
ing of a man while hunting. Laud made several
alterations in the usual service, and composed
an entirely new prayer, which went to establish a
closer union than ever between king and bishops.
"It was,' says a courtly knight, "one of the most
punctual coronations since the Conquest" This
it may have been, but it was assuredly one of
the dullest or the least honoured by Uie spon-
taneous joy of the nation. The fact is, Charles's
sayings had gone abroad, and he was suspected in
politics, in religion, and in everything dse.

boTongh ; ud Coke ■BtwllT (dI hlmMlf slscUd tar tha oomitr

»Google

3S4

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and MiLtTARf.

Four daya after his coronation he opened the j
■esaion of parliament' with a very short speech, '
telling them he was no orator, but desired to be
known by hie actions, not by hia words, and re-
ferring them lo the lord-keeper, who would ex-
plain the business for which he had called thetu
together. Bishop WiUiama, the man that was a
diocese iu himself — the ready-witted Williame,
who had saved Buckiugham at a crisis, who had
rendered many secret services — was no longer
lord-keeper. Ue had quarrelled with the fa-
vourite at or immediately aft«r the Oxford session ;
he had ventured to tell him "that he was en-
gaged with the Earl of Pembroke to labour iu
the redress of the people's grievances, and was
resolved to stand upon his own legs" — and of
raurw the bishop had fallen. The present lord-
keeper was Sir Thomas CoveDtry, the son of a

judge of the Court of Common Pleaa, and a
thorough-bred lawyer, who had gone through
the grades of recorder of London, solicitor-
general, and king's attorney. But if he knew
law better than Bishop Williams, he was equally
I'eady to strel<^h the royal prerogative as far as
ever that base time-server had done. In his
opening speech, to which the king had especially
referred them, Coventry spoke of the "incom-
parable distance between tlie supreme height and
majesty of a mighty monarch aud the submissive
awe and lowliness of loyal subjects." But the
commons had never been less disposed to listen
to such language or submit to such pretensions.
They had again met with a resolute will to can-

■ It !• uid tliit, at Uie openiii( or IhSKsioa, onalulf of Uia

vsss grievances and to punish the favourite of
majesty; and dividing themselves into sections,
and appointing standing committees, they pro-
ceeded to work fearlessly. Guided by the force
without, by the zealous feelings of the people,
and following in many particular instances their
own inward conviction, they began again with
the question of religion, and insisted on sharpen-
ing still more the legal sword against Papists.

In the very first week of the session, a speech
was made "somewhat eagerly, luming at but not
naming the duke; but it was not applauded, nor
seemingly liked by the bouse."' But this dis-
couragement was merely given to some over-hasty
oi"alor — they were preparing a regular attack,
aud wished not for petty skirmishes. Their com-
mittee of grievances drew up an account of six-
teen capital abuses, all fatal to the liberties of
the people. Among these were the old curse of
purveyance, and the new practice of levying the
duties of tannage and poundage without consent
of parliament; monopolies] great prodigahty and
malversation on the part of the ministry. They
traced all these evils, all the disgraces sustainEd
by the English llag by land aiid sea, and sll othe.r
wrongs and misfortunes, to the "great delin-
quent.'' The king, anticipating their resolves, sent
a message to the commons, in which he chose to
overlook the precedents of Bacon and Middlesex,
and the notorious fact that he himself, as Piince
of Wales, had joined Buckingham in procuring
Middlesex's impeachment. "I must let you know,''
said he, " that I will cot allow any of my servants
to be questioned amongst you, much leas such as
are of eminent place and near unto me. I see
you especially aim at the Duke of Bui'kingham.
I wonder what hath so altered your affection to-
wards him. 1 do well remember his favour with
you in the last parliament of my father's time.
.... What he hath done since to alter and

change your minds, I wot not I wish you

would hasten my supply, or else it will be worse
for yourselves; for, if any ill happen, I shall b«
the last shall feel it."

But the commons maintained that it was " the
ancient, constant, and undoubted right and usage
of parliaments to question and complain of all
persons of what degree soever, found dangerous
to the commonwealth iu abusing the power and
trust committed to them by the sovereign:" they
stopped the question of supplies — they proceeded
more vigorously than before against the favour-
ite; and, not having as yet got ready their direct
testimony, they voted, almost by acclamation,
that common fame was a good ground of pro-
ceeding, either by inquiry or presenting the com-
plaint to the king or lords. Instead of taking
warning, Charles sent down the lord-keeper to

»Google

CHARLES I.

383

rate them for their preeumptioD, and to require
the pnaishmeat of two members who had given
him offence bj insolent diBconTaeB in the houae
— to tell them th&t it was hie majeety's express
and final commandment that they ahoald yield
obedience and ceaee timr nnparliametitary inqui-
aition- There were some few court members who
entertained l^e constitutional bereay that parlia-
mente existed only by sufferance, and that tliey
were things tbat might be made or unmade at
the will of the sovereign. Sir Dudley Carleton,
who, as a diplomatist, had travelled a great deal
in the despotic states of the Continent, drew a
tristful but scarcely exaggerated picture of the
misery of the people there. He could scarcely
hare found a better argument in favour of the
determined struggle the commons were making
to check that despotism which was established
elsewhere, and was the canse of the people's misery
and abjectnesa; but, with an obliquity of vision
scarcely conceivable in a well-educated gentle-
man, be saw in it an argument for the court.
"He cautioned them not to make the king oQt
of love with parliaments, by encroaching on
hia prerogative; for in his messages he had told
tfaem that he most then use new councils. In
all Christian kingdoms there were parliaments
anciently, till the monarchs, seeing their turbu-
lent spirits, stood upon their prerogatives, and
overthrew them all except with us. In foreign
countries the people look not like ours, with store
of flesh on their backs, but like ghosts, being no-
thing but skin and bones, with some thin cover
to their nakedness, and wearing wooden shoes
on their feet — a misery beyond expression, and
that we are yet free from; and let na not lose the
repute of a free-born nation by our turbnlency
in parliament."' And that there might be no
posBibility of a mistake as to the king's real
sentiment, or his absolute way of expressing it,
Clkarles himself again addressed them, bidding
them remember that parliaments were altogether
in his power for their calling, sitting, or dissolu-
tion, and that therefore as he should find the
fruits of them good or evil, they were to be or
not to be. The commons thereupon retired to
deliberate, and they locked the doon of the
house, and placed the key in the hands of the
speaker, Sir Heneage Finch. This unusual mea-
sure created a panic in the court, and Chaiies
himself proposed and obtained a ccokference be-
tween the two houses. In that meeting the fa-
vourite attempted to explain away the passages
in the royal speeches and messages, and to jus-
tify his own conduct. He told thi
that the king was willing to submit to the

the eyea of a multitude. But the commons would
not be moved from their original purpose; and,
after the Easter recess, they impeached the fa-
vourite at the bar of the House of Lords. Buck-
ingham, however, was attacked in that assembly
by the peers themselves, before the commons
brought up their impeachment. Ab if seized by
a vertigo, Charles, not content with exasperating
one branch of the legislature, engaged in a mad
quarrel with the other. The Enrl of Amndel,
the marshal, had given some offence to Bucking-
ham, and his son, Lord Maltravers, bad privately
married a dftfighter of the Duke of Lennox with-
out obtaining the royal consent. Leaving the
yoimg lord, Charles felt upon the father, and,
by royal warrant, Arundel was shut up in tlie
Tower. This seemed to the contrivers of it a
masterly stroke; forArundel,besideshia own vote
in the House of Lords, held live or six proxies.
But the lords presently took up the business, and,
after a formal examination of precedents, they
resolved " that no lord of parliament, the parlia-
ment sitting, or within the usual times of privi-
lege of parliament, is to be imprisoned or re-
sb^ned without sentence or order of the house,
imless it be for treason or felony, or for refusing
to give surety for the peace." They then sent
an address to the king, respectfully calling for
the immediate liberation of the Earl of Arundel.
Charles returned an evasive answer : the lords
sent him another address. The king deputed the
attorney-general to explain the royal prerogative;
but the lords would not yield, and they came to
a resolution to suspend all other business. At
last the king yielded in a very ungracious man-
ner— Arundel was set at liberty, and he took his
seat, amidst the triumphant shouts and cheert of
the house. After another struggle, the court sus-
tained a further humiliating defeat in the same
high quarter, and another and a more deadly
enemy of the favourite took his seat in the lords.
The Earl of Bristol, since his return from Spain,
had never ceased petitioning that he might lie
heard in his defence and allowed to come to Lon-
don. Now that he sawn strong opposition party
organized in the Houseof Lortja, which had so long
been so very submiasive and slavish, he sent up
to claim from his peers his indisputable right.
Buckingham would have preferred meeting the
devil; but, upon delilieTation, it was deemed ex-
pedient to comply in outward appearance. A
writ of summons was issued to call the earl up
to parliament; but this was accompanied by a
letter privately written, and charging him, as he
feared the king's displeasure, to keep away. Bris-
tol sent the letter to the Houae of Lords, inclosed
in one of his own, soliciting their advice, and de-
manding permission to accuse, in his place, the
favourite. Upon this the king and Buckingham

,v Google

HISTOSy OF ENGLAND.

[Civil avd Hilitart.

sent down ths attorney-general, who, tlie very
next day, char^ Bristol at their lordehipif bar
with high treason. But the lords could not lielp
understanding this manoiuvre, and they voted
that the one charge should be heard after the
other — that Bristol should make his accusation,
and that the counter-accusation should neither
prevent nor prejudice his evidence.'

Bristol drove to the House of Lords in a kind
of triumph, with eight horses to his coach; but
my lord Duke of Buckingham went mnch more
tnodeatly than was his wont, in an old coach,
with only some three footmen and no retinue.
When he entered apon hia accusation, Bristol
charged the favourite with plotting with Qondo-
mar to get the Prince of Wales into Spain for
the purpose of convei'tiug him to Popery previ-
ously to his marriage there ; with having con-
formed to Popish rites himself, and led an im-
moral and depraved life while in that country
as the companion of the prince and the guest of
the Spanish monarch ; with having broken off
the treaty of marriage out of private resentment
and spite at the Spanish government, which had
expressed its desire to have no more negotiating
with so dissolate and dangerous a man ; and
with his abusing and deceiving King James and
Ijoth houses of parliament on his return from
Spain with a feigneil and false narration,' On
the other hand. Heath, the attorney-general,
charged Bristol with having pentuaded the prince
to change his religion in order to marry the in-
fanta— with having endeavonred to force that
marriage npon his highness by delivering the
procutatiou, and with having presented to the
House of Lords a petition full of scandal and
highly insulting to his majesty. The lords agreed
that these ctiarges against the earl should be
heard first. Bristol asked the attorney- general
who waa the prosecuting witnes'iT Heath re-
plied, that the prosecution wim commanded by
the king, and that some of the charges had been
dictated by his majesty. Upon this avowal
Bristol Said, "that he wouM not contend with
hia sovereign, but that it might be of dangerous
consequence if the king should be accuser, judge,
witness, and have the confiscation."' The king
ought in decency to have lieen quiet; but he
conld not trust the lords, beiog apprehensive of
their impartiality. He sent the Lord-keeper
Coventry, a principal agent and the legal adviser
in this dilemma, to tell them that he himself, of
his own knowledge, could exculpate the Duke of
Buckingham ; that Bristol, in impeaching the

' Brblol ilto bnnilit uti
Lord CDDwfejr, Khom ha &
BtKkingbuB. Caanj :
IC wu 111 obedI«m to a
■Itluwt (bs klng^ eipnw m

«liT«ii«id H the srntu
ILkt II )!• hud dna n

narrative of the Spanish match which the duke
had made to parliament, touched him, who, as
Prince of Wales, had vouched for the truth of
that narrative; and that he trusted confidently
that they would not equal the duke and the earl
by a [owweding pari pattu. The peers had the
wisdom and spirit to disregard this meesBge,
upon which the king attempted to remove, 1^
his arbitrary will, the case of Bristol from the
House of Lords to the Court of King's Bench ;
but here again he was foiled by the peers, who
firmly maintained their privileges. The lords
consulted the judges upon the two following
i points: — Whether the king could be a witness
I in a ease of treason 1 Whether, in Bristol's case,
he could be a witness, admitting the treason
done with his privitjl The timid judges re-
quired a short time to deliberate: the king sent
them a message and command to give no answer
to the questions, seeing that he knew not what
c(H)sequencee might ensue to the prejudice of the
rights of his crown, which he would not enffer
to be diminished in his time. Bristol answered
every particular of the charges brought against
him with great spirit and perspicuity; his auswer,
which appears to have given general satisfaction
to the lords, waa entered on the journals.*

It wns deemed expedient, or perhaps abso-
lutely necessary, that Buckingham should ataiid
the fire of the commons before he met the chargea
of Bristol. The lower house, by the beginning
of the month of May, had appointed eight ma-
nagers, with sixteen assistants, to confer witli
the lords on the impeachment, and had voted,
by a large mnjority, that the lords should be
moved to commit the Duke of Buckingham to
the Tower. On the 8th of May the impeach-
ment was carried up to the peers. It was divided
into thirteen separate chaises, the chief of which
were, that Buckingham had bought for money
the posts of high-admiral and warden of the
Cinque-ports; had invested himself with several
of the highest offlees of the state, which had not
before been held by one individual; had cul-
pably neglected the guarding of the seas, and
suffered the trade of the country to fall to ruin;
had illegally detained, for his private profit, a
French ship, and so provoked the French king
to make reprisals on English merchants; had ex-
torted i£10,000 from the Eaat India Company;
had put a squadron of English ships into the
hands of the French king to be employed agunst
the Protestants of Bochelle; had sold places of
judicature; had procured honours and wealth
for his poor kindred; had committed malversa-
tion in the treasury; and had presumed to apply
a piaster and give a drink to the late king on
his deathbed against the orders of the physicians.

,v Google

A.D. lew— 1627}

The eiglit managers for the
Dudley Diggea, Sir John Eliot, Serjeaut Olan-
Tille, Selden, Whitelock, Fym, . Herbert, and
Waodeaford. Digges epoke tlie prologue. After
compaTing the parliament to the uuiverae, the
lords to the fixed Btare, the cotomous to the
lower world, the king to the glorious ana, he
called Backingham a comet — a prodigioDs comet
— against whom and bis irregular ways, there
were legfil articles of charge to be delivered to
their lordships. He then entered upon the ar-
ticles of the impeachment; and, when he had
done, GlanTille, Selden, and Fym spoke in de-
1^ upon the several chargen. Sir John Eliot
delivered the epilogue to the impeachment. He
compared the inward character of the duke's
mind to the beast called by the ancients "itel-
iumatut;"' a beast so blurred, so spotted, so full
of fonl lines, that they knew not what to make
of it. " You have seen his power," continued
the orator, " and some T fear have felt it. You
hare known hia practice, and heard the eSecIs,
.... I can hardly find him a parallel^ none so
like liim as Sejanus, thus described by Tacitus,
nvdax, tui obttgeru, tn alioM crimiiuUor, j'ltxta
adviator et taparbai. . . . For bis pride and
flattery it is not«d of Sejanna that he did dUnta
*vo4 provinciii adomare: doth not this man the
like) Ask England, Scotland, and Ireland, and
they will t«ll you. My lords, I have done; you
■ee the man : by him came all the evils ; in him
we find the cause ; in him we expect the reme'
dies; and to this we met your lordships in con-
ference.' During these vehement speeches Buck-
ingham jeered and fleered, showing that he had
more confidence in the power of the king to pro-
tect than in that of the parliament to puniah him.
Sir Dudley Digges, or Serjeant GUnville, was so
provoked by his insolence, that, turning to the
duke, he exclaimed, "Hy lord, do you jeer mel
— are these things to be jeered atl My lord, I
can show you when a roan of a greater blood
than your lordship, as high in place and power,
and as deep in the favour of the king as jou,
bath been hanged for as small a crime as the
least of these articles conl^n." Sir John Eliot's
qnotations from Tadtns stung to the qnick. For
Buckingham to be a Sejanus the king must be
a Tiberius — the inference was inevitable; and
Charles, besides, knew that, in the charge about
the plaster and the posset, it was meant that the
late king had met with fonl play— a horrible, and,
aa we believe, an unfounded suspicion, which
obtained among the people both before and long
after this impeachment He resolved to take
n Eliot and Sir Dudley Digges; two

CHABLES T.

387

days after they were called out of the house, as
if the king had sent for them, and were carried
to the Tower by water, it being given out that
their arrest was for high treaaon. As soon as
the news was carried into the house, there was a
cry of "Else! rise! rise!" which Mr. Fym, not
well uoderstandlng, stood np, and began to in-
sinuate an exhortation to patience and wisdom.
Whereunto one Walters replied that be seemed
to mistake the voice of the house, which, as he
understood, had uo other meaning but that it was
time to rise and go to dinner. Charles, in the
meanwhile, hurried to the House of Lords in a
fury, not merely to complain of the insult offered
to himself, but also to interpose his ipgis between
Buckingham and bis accusers. " I have thought
fit," said he, " to punish some insolent speeches
lately spoken. I have been too remiss, hitherto,
in punishing such speeches as concern myself ;
not that I was greedy of their monies, but that
Buckingham, through bis importunity, would not
suffer nie to take notice of them, lest be might
be thought to have set me on, that be might come
the forwarder to his trial. And to approve his
innocency as touching the matters against him,
I myself can be a witness to clear him in eveiy
one of them." While the king delivered thia
speedi to the lords, Buckingham, who ought to
have been in the Tower, or at the least in custody
of the Black Bod, stood confidently by his side.
But, again, they were both foiled by the high
spirit of the commons, who debated with closed
doors on the violation of their privileges, and
came to tlie resolution to atay all busineHS till
satisfaction were given. In a few days Charles
was fain to release both Sir Dudley Digges and
Sir John Eliot, who returned to their seats in the

Just at this moment the chancellorship of the
university of Cambridge fell vacant ; and Charles
resolved that the high honour— aa it was esteemed
— should be conferred on the favourite, who was
lying under two impeachments and branded by
the people. The statutes and rights of the uni-
versity were set at defiance, and at his majesty's
command Buckingham was named chancellor in
the most irregular and unseemly manner. This
was eveiywhere set down as a new proof of the
king's settled intention to rule despotically in all
matters. The honour or title (for honour it was
not) did no good to Buckingham and a deal of
harm to his master.

The favourite bad now been allowed some
time to prepare his defence to the commons' im-
penchmeut, in doing which be bad the assistance
of Sir Nicholas Hyde. On the 8th of June, a
week after bis Cambridge election, he rose in the
lords with grace and modesty, and began bis

' Jnmtin Xmiknmtk; Fart. Hut.

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil akd Kiutart.

reply. He affirmed that some of the accasations
agunst hiroweMgrosalyexaggerated; thatothera
were altogether grotmdleaa : but his great argu-
ment was, that he was only the aervant of royalty
— that all that he had done had been done in
obedience either to the late or to the present king.
He pleaded an anticipatory pardon, which had
be«i granted him by Charles on the 10th of Feb-
nuuy, or four days after the opening of the pre-
eent parliament. He said, however, that it was
hia earnest wiah to go through a regular trial.
Bat, on the very next day, the king addressed
the following message to the speaker of the com-
mons:— "We hold it necessary, by these our
letters, to give them this our last and final ad-
monition, and to let them know that we shall
account all further delays and excuses to be ex-
press denials; and therefore we will and require
you to signify unto them that we do expect that
they do forthwith bring in their bill of subaidy
to be passed without delay or eondition, so as it
may fully peas the house by the end of neit week
at furthest; iriiich, if they do not, it will force
ua to take other resolutions." The commons,
who had been all along resolute that a reform of
abuses and the dismissal of Buckingham should
precede their bill of subsidy, drew up a declara-
tion which they meant to present to the king in
a body; but, while the business was still under
diBcuBsion, they were suddenly summoned to at-
tend his majesty in the House of Lords. Know-
ing what this signified, they took their declara-
tion, which bad been hastily drawn up, with
them. Imitead of the king, they found his com-
missioners for the dissolution of parliament. The
Speaker held up his paper and proclaimed its
contents, the most important of which was a
humble petition to his majesty for the removal
of the favourite from access to his royal presence.
The lords, foreseeing much mischief, implored
Charles for a short delay : his answer was, " No,
not for a minute."' Thus ended, on the ISth of
June, 16S6, his second parliameot

Before they retired to their homes, to await in
patience to see what the assumed Divine right
would do for the king, without their vote of
supplies, the commons took care to disperse their
declaration or remonstrance. The paper was
calculated to make a deep impression on the
popular mind. The king replied by a counter-
declaration, an excusable measure, though his
paper contuued many equivocations and some
falsehoods ; but not resting here, he, by a pro-
clamation, commanded all persons having a copy
or notes of the commons' paper to burn the same,
under pain of his indignation. Immediately after
the disaolution the Earl of Arundel was confined
in his own house, and the Earl of Bristol was

■Jtw^mrlV rart,trM.

sent to the Tower. In the meantime, to nise
money a wart^nt was issued under t&e great seal
for levying duties on all imports and exports;
the tnuie in fines for religion was levived with
more rigour than ever: a commission was ap-
pointed to inquire into the arrean due by the
Catholics, to compound with them for immediate
payments, and to secure regular returns of this
odious kind of revenue; another commission was
appointed to manage the extensive crown lands,
and to improve in various ways the rents derived
from them ; fresh privy sesls for loans were
issued to the nobility, gentry, and merchants;
and a demand for ^120,000 was made upon the
city of London. Moreover, London and the sea-
port towns were commanded to furnish ships for
the defence of the coast and the protection of
commerce in the narrow seas; and the lord-
lieutenants of counties were ordered to muster
troops to be ready to meet insurrection at home
or invasion from abroad. But all these minor
resources of despotism were insufficient to supply
the vacuum in the royal treasury, and Charles
presenUy proceeded to the extreme measure of a
farced loan on a grand scale. The members of
the Protestant alliance had reaped nothing but
disgrace and loss from their connection with him,
and his unfortunate brother-in-law the Palatine.
Bis uncle, the King of Denmark, was completely
routed on the 27th of Angust, and driven behind
the Elbe by the Imperialists under Count Tilly;
and not only the cause of the Palatine, but also
that of Protestantism in Germany, seemed despe-
rate. The council impudently pretended that
parliament was not called together at this crisis
only because the urgency of the case would not
allow time for their assembling and deliberatiug;
and, therefore, a general loan was exacted, and
each individual was called upon to contribute ac-
cording to his rating in the last subsidy. Com-
missioners were let loose upon the land with books
and registera, and most tyrannical instructions,
of the king's and the council's making. The
money, it was said, would all be ptud back by
the king to his loving subjects out of the next
subsidies voted by parliament ; but people knew
not when the king and parliament would agree,
and they had already ample grounds for doubt-
ing the veraci^ and good faith of Charles and
Buckingham, who still seemed one and indi-
risihle. Many who had refused to contribute to
the loan were visited 1^ all the vengeance of ab-
solutism : the rich were imprisoned — the poorer
sorts sent to serve in the army or navy ; nor
would Charles in imy one insbuice step between
the severity of his sgenta and their victims. la
the list of the sufferers are the illustrious namM
of Sir John Eliot and Mr. John Hampden.* 6lr

irtitito

,v Google

A.D. 1625—1627.] CHAB

Thomas Wentworth, afterwards Eari of Straf-
ford, who began his political career as a reformer
and patriot, was also imprisoned. The poor —
the victiiDS too obscure to be named — suffered
most; but their wrongs equatlj with those of the
greater patriots helped to swell the detestation
of despotism, and to purchase the liberties which
we now enjoj. In sereral towns the tradespeo-
ple made a bold resiHtaiice. An; opposilion or
lukewarmnesa on the part of a crown officer or
anj servant of goTommect insured his disgrace
and dismissal. Sir Itandolph Crew, the chief-
justice of the King's Bench, was removed for
" showing no zeal, and his place was given to
Sir Nichoiss Hyde, who had assisted Bucking-
ham in his defencA'* ' We believe that thei-e
were not many sufferen of this class. The lawyers
and judges, however, subservient ns they were,
were patriots compared to the bishops and the
High Church party. Laud, whom Charles had
translated on the 20th of Jaue, 162G, from the
see of St. David's to that of Bath and Wells,
drew up a set of instructions, in the king's name,
to the clergy, who were enjoined to preach the
merits of lending or giving money without au-
thority of parliament, and to make those merits
appear as essential to sslvatioij. To remove any
doubt as to his approbation of a confederacy or
league of church and state against parliament
and the people, Ijiud expressely avowed it in
the preamble to these instructions.' Forthwith
the pulpits resounded with this exchequer preach'
ing, and the Established clergy tried to outstrip
one another in a race whose goal was marked by
amitre. Dr. BogerUainwaring, one of the king's
chaplains, delivered two sermons highly against
the power of parliament before the king and
court at Whitehall, {nt>claiming, and attempting
to prove by texts of Scripture, that the sovereign
was not bound to keep and observe the laws of
the realm ; that parliament was an inferior sort
of council 1 that the royal will was enoug^h for
the imposing of taxes ; and that any disobedience
or refusal to pay money for his use would as-
suredly be punished in the next world. Robert
Sibthorp, vicar of Brackley.who was tired of the
ohocure life of a country parson, and longing after
promotion, west, if poaaible, beyond Dr. M^n-
waring. In an assize sermon, preached at North-
ampton, upon the test— "Bender, therefore, to
all their dues" '^ he told the people that, even if
the prince, tl>e anointed of the Lord, should com-
mand a thing contrary to the laws of Qod or of
natoie, still the subjects were bound to submit to
the ponisliment, only juraying secretly that Hea-
ven might turn the prince from the error of his

I Muhnoiik. Wliftalocli iiir* tlu diM-Jatica, Dot finmrlDg
tlHkui. inH|nt(Hitufb[a|<laa.

LES T. 389

ways, but offering no resistance no railing, no
reviling— nothing but a passive obedience. Not
satisfied with merely preaching this sermon, Sib-
thorp determined to print it under the title of
" Apostolic Obedience." Here a license was ne-
ceaaary, and an application was made for one to
the primate. Abbot, notwithstanding the king's
orders, absolutely refused to grant the license, or
declare that the precious atufT was orthodox.
Hereupon Abbot was suspended, and confined to
a country-house in Kent; his functions were in-
trusted to a commission ; and Laud, who was one
of the commissioners, licensed the sermon. This
rising churchman, who, if we may believe Abbot
and others, was " the only inward counsellor"
with Buckingham, received the new promotion
of dean of the chapel royal. Dr. Roger Main-
waring, like Montague, got a bishopric; Sibthorp
was not quite so fortunate — for he could obtain
only a cfaaploinship in oi'dinary to his majesty, a
stall in Petei'boivugh, and the rectory of Burton-
lAtimer, in Northamptonshire.* For twenty
years the High Cliurch party had been labouring
hard for despotism, but their system only drove
people faster into the ranks of their opponents,
the Puritans; and these last pi'oceedings tended
wonderfully to convince men's minds that the
bishops, and [niests, deacons, aud other ministers,
were the ci-eatures of the court ; the instinctive
enemies of all who cherished the ancient liberties
of the land, and who contemplated the exten-
siou of those liberties niid their establishment
upon a bi-oader and sounder foundation. Thus
many men of mark, who had no love for the
more rigid notions of the Puritan^ and no de-
cided avenion to tiie creed and ceremonies of the
cbnreh by law established, arrayed themselves
against tite whole hierarchy, and prepared to
make the Puritan ardour a sharp sword against
civil tyranny.

In the meantime, while clouds were gather-
ing abroad, Charles had nothing but storms in
his own house. These latter he attributed en-
tirely, not to his wife's natural temper, but to the
influence of the French people about her. At
last, seeing that they vould not be gone uuless
they were forced away, and lieing less delicate
than formerly about the French court, he came
to an luutlteiable decision. One fine summer
afternoon he passed, apparently without being
announced, into the queen** side of the house,
"and, finding some Frenchmen, her servsuts,
unreverently dsneing and curvetting in her pre-
sence, took her by the hand and led her into his

• Kuikua/a; nmin. Iht hon«t Puftu, old Aadrnr
Hinall, BTi of lUlnxirlag ud Sibtborp. "Tbar mn Ficted-
ThiIt pTviEmktla], JjitDlsnbly uabltioia, uul aa ikHpcjaEalj
pmuj, Uul aajaij tnj jEnttnuui mjf bt oomB Dear tb« Uil Qt
lbMrmiU&"-Wood.^ - " '

,v Google

390

HISTORY OF ENGLASD.

[ClT,

D Military.

lodgings, locking the door alter him, and ahut-
ting out tM save on) j the queen. Frewatly upon
thiB, m^ Lord Coamj called forth the flench
biahop And others of that clergy intji St. James'a
Park, where he told them the kiug's pleasure
me, all her majeetj'a aervanta of that nation,
nieu and women, young nnd old, should depart
the kingdom ; together with the reBsons that en-
forced hi« maje^ so to do. The biahop stood
much upon it, that, being in the nature of an
ambaaaador, he conkl not go nnleas the king hia
roaster should command him; but he was told
again, that the king his master had nothing to do
here in England, and that if he were unwilling
to go, England would find force enongh to con-
vey him hence.'' HaTiug brought the bishop
to reason, my Lord Conway, accompanied by Mr.
Treaaorer and Mr. Comptroller, went into the
queen'a aportmenta, and told all the Frencli that
were there that it wan his majesty's pleasure
they should all depart thence to Somerset House,
there to remain away from the queen till further
orders. "The women howled and lamented as
if they had been going to execution, but all in
vain, for the yeomen of the guard, by that lord'a
appointment, thmst them and all their country-
folks out of the qneen'a lodgings, and locked the
doora aft«r them. It is eaid also the queen,
when she understood the design, grew very im-
patient, and broke the glass windows with her
fist; but since, I hear, her rage is appeased, and
the king and she, since they went together to
Nonsuch, have been veiy jocund together. The
name day, the IVench being all at Soroeraet
House, the king (aa I have beard some to afHmi)
went thither and made a speech to them to this
purpose; — that he hoped the good king, hia bro-
ther of France, would not take amtas what he
had done; for the French, he said, had occasioned
many jars and discontents between the queen
and him; such, indeed, as longer were insuffera-
ble. He prayed them, therefore, to pardon him,
if he sought his own ease and safety; and said,
moreover, that he bad given order to his trea-
surer to reward every oneof them for their year's
service. So the next morning, being Tuesday,
there was diatributed among them £11,000 in
money, and about £20,000 worth of jewels."'
Two of the queen's women-servants — her nnrse,
and one that had used to dress her — and some
dozen others of the inferi<^ sort, as cooks, bakers,
Sec, were allowed to remain ; all the rest were
shipped at Dover a week after. It appears that
Buckingham executed the high commission, wh ich

1 Lflltor troiD John Vmj to HHda, In Slil.

> Latlv bom John Pory to ll«da. Tha nnnaiit ictiull;
glran wu not » grst br taata. TtM lint Df Um iiHllTldiuli
and of til* nnni •ertnllj nndTHl hj tlitu Is pnKrml In on*
of tin HifMtn Mffi.i utd ii (Inn br Sir R, EUk.

waa not unattended with difficulty, of getting
them out of London ; for on the 7th of August
the king, who was at Oaking, wrote entirely witli
his own royal band thefollowing letter: "Steenie,
I have received your letter by Pick Grsme; this
ia my answer. I command you to send all the
fWnch away to-morrow out of the town. If
you can, by fair means (but stick not long in
disputing), otherwise force them away, driving
away like so many wild beasts until ye have
shipped them ; nnd so the devil go with them.
Let me hear no answer, bat of the performance
of my command. So I rest, ic"' Some time
before the scene at Whitehall, four new ladies of
the queen's bed-chamber, all English, had been
sworn. The first of these 4a8 the Dacheaa of
Buckingham. Charles inunediately despatched
Sir Dudley Carieton to Paris, to explain away
and justify his breach of the marriage tr«aty.
Louis, his mother, Maria de' Medici, hia minister
Richelieu, all gave (I^leton a very cold recep-
tion. There was even a talk of avenging the
wn>ngsof HenriettaMariaby a recourse to arms:
but Richelieu had already wars enough on bis
handa; and in the mouth of September they sent
the gallant, witty, splendid, and profligate Mar-
Hhal de Baasompierre to England, as special am-
bnssadoT, to set it all right. The marshal waa
very courteously received by Buckingham, the
Earl of Dorset, and other courtiers.

The FVench court complained, through its am-
bassador, as well of the general infraction of the
promises made by Charles and his father of a
full toleration, as of the treatment of the queen
and her domestiGs; and it had also requested hia
majesty the King of Great Britain to ordain a
better and more moderate usage of his subjects
profeaaing the Catholic apostolical Roman reli-
gion. The English council, at the very moment
when the Catholics were being disarmed, fined,
imprisoned, and made to compound with the
sacrifice of their property for the privilege, not
to profess their religion openly, but to lipt in
England, insiated that there waa no persecution,
noinfractionof the treaty upon that point. They
boasted that his present majesty had made no
new laws against the Catholics, and that he had
not allowed one drop of blood to be sjnlt, either
of Jesuit, priest, or other Roman Catholic, since
his accemion. They could not deny tluit Charles
and his father had allowed the Fi'ench court to
int«rfere in tiie relt^on and government of the
nation; they admitted all the articles of the mar-
riage-treaty, which had been confirmed by Charles
since bis accession, but they pretended that all
the religious part of tJiat treaty was nmply a
matter of form to satisfy the Roman Catholic
party of France, and the pope, who might other-

[ • Hit H, Ellli,^nilI«tiiM tf IMtm.

,v Google

A o. 162S— 1627.J

CHARLES T.

wisa have withheld the neceeeary dispensation.
When st&teamen could make treatien sod apeak
of them a few months after in this mamier, na-
tional Bgreemeuta were no better than so much
dirty paper. The English council then turned
the tables upon the French, who had not been
more honest, but who had taken good care not
to commit themselves, as the !Ekiglish court had
done, by signing treaties ukd specific clauses. It
was allcgad that £iiig Louis had solemnly pro-
mised, as a sequel to the marriage of his sister,
to convert his alliance with England into an al-
liance offensive and defensive — to co-operate with
arms and money for the recovery of the Pnla-
tinate — to allow Count iUanafeldt to land at Ca-
lais, with free permission on all occasions to march,
take up qoaTter? in trance, or re-embark — and
to assist Maurfeldt, the King of Denmark, and
the Protestant princes of Oermany; and the
council muntained that none of these promises
had been kept, and that hence numerous disasters
had be&Uen the friends, relations, and allies of
King Charles. They also accused Louts of not
couformisg to the articles he had entered into
with the Hnguenota, aud particularly those of
Bochelle, who bad consented to accept them by
the friendly interpontiou of King CAaries; and
they asserted that his majesty considered him-
self bound, not only by the prayers of the party
interested and the confidence they rejiowd in him,
bnt also by the feelings and opinioue of the world
at large, to importune hiit bi-other-iu-law to ob-
serve this compact with his Protestant subjects.
On the other great point the council admitted
that it was expressly promised in the treaty of
marriage that Madame Henrietta Idaria and all
her honsehold should enjoy the free exercise of
their religion, and that all her servants and
officers should be French Boman Catholicn, se-
lected by his most Christian majesty; but they
insisted that neither the letter nor the spirit of
the agreement bad been violated, for, though the
flench had been sent back, it was not as Catho-
lics, but as offenders who had disturbed the affaire
of the kingdom and the domestic government of
his majesty's house. They theu asserted, as
proofs, several fiagrant cases^ ot which the follow-
ing are the most important; — 1. That the bishop
and his priests had created factions and diAen-
sions — excited fear and mistrust in the Protes-
tants— encouraged the Catholics, and even insti-
gated the disaffected in parliament 2. That
some of the French had lent their names to others
for the purpose of taking houses in the fields,
where, under their pratectiOD, priests had their
retreat and performed their masses, &c. 3. That
they had converted the queen's own lodgings
into a place of rendezvous for Jesuits and fugi-
tives, and a place of security for the pei'sons, pro-

perty, and papers of such as had violated the
laws. 4. That they had laboured to create in tho
gentle mind of the queen a repugnance to all that
hia majesty desired or ordered, even to what he
did for the honour of his dignity, and for the
comfort aud establishment of his household, and
hod avowedly fomented discords between their
majesties as a thing essential to the welfare of
their church. S. That they had subjected the
person of the queen to the rules of, as it were,
monastic obedience, in order to oblige her to do
many base aud servile acts, which were not only
unworthy of the majesty of a queen, but also
very dangerous to her health. 6. That they had
abused the influence which they had aoqntred
over the tendmiess and religious mind of her
majesty, so for as to lead her a loug way ou foot,
through a park, the gbtes of which had been ez-
pivaaly ordered fay the Count de Tilliers to be
kept open, to go in devotion to a place (Tyburn),
where it had been the custom to execute the most
infamous malefaotora and criminals of all sorts,
exposed on the entrance of a high road ; an act
not only of shame and mockery towards the queen,
but of reproach and calumny of the king's pre-
decessors of glorious memory, as aecosing them
of tyranny in having put to death inuoceut per-
sons, whom these people look upon as inanyra ;
alUiough, ou the contrary, not one of them had
been executed on account of religion, bnt for high
treason. 7. That King Charles having borne
with them loug, and admonished them in the vain
hope of amendment, and being most anxious to
preserve a good understanding and friendship
with bis deitf brotlier, he had commissioned the
Uuke of Buckingham to go from Holland into
France, to give full information in these matters,
conceiving the duke, who had contributed so
much to the accomplishment of the marriage, to
be the most proper agent; but that this journey
had been prevented by the intimation which was
given to the duke that the King of France was
averse to it Bassompierre defended, as beet he
conid, and without any acrupnlous adherence to
truth, the political conduct of his own court; and
he then spoke for the expelled French attendants,
palliatbg or denying altogether the chai^ges
brought against them. With respect to the pro-
cession to Tyburn and the prayers offered there,
he told the council he knew very well that they
themselves did not believe that story which they
wished to make other people believe. It was
true, he said, that the (jueen of Great Britain,
by permission of the king her husband, kept her
jubilee in the chapel of the fathei-a of the ora-
tory at St. James's; and after her devotions,
which terminated with veaperB, she went in the
cool of the evening to promenade in St. Jametfs
Park, and thence to Hyde Pui'k, as she had often

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

(C.V

. AVD MlUTART.

done before, but that sbe did not go in procea-
gioa, nor say anjr {nnjeru, nor kueel, iior approacli
the gibbet withiu fifty psces. But, not sBlia6ed
with his denial, he ofTered to justify the fact, or
rather that part ot it which related to praying
for those wlio had BufTered at Tyburn, if it bad
taken place, upon the plea that auch prayera
were acts of Christian piety and humanity, and
that they in no wise called in question the justice
tiuA had aeuteitced the malefactoi-s. In the eud
of all, Charles conceded that bis wife should have
one French bishop and twelve French priesta
(none of them to be Jesuits), two French ladies
of the bed-chamber, and three French femme* d«
ehambrt, a laundress, a dear-etarcher, two phy-
liciana, one iq»othecary, a surgeon, a lord-cham-
berlain, an equerry, a secretary, a gentleman
usher, three valets, cooks at discretion, two
chapels, ten musicians, a burying-ground, and the
particnlar gloty of giving freedom to a. certain
number of English priests detained in prison.
Baasompierre left London with sixteen English
prieats included in his numerous retinue. Buck-
ingham followed him on his road to talk about
his own expedition to Paris, but the marshal
now persuaded him to break off or delay that
journey. As soon as Bassompierre arrived at
Pans, he found (what he knew very well before)
that the coming of the Duke of Buckingham was
notagreeable; and the queen herself desired him
to write and let him know that he should desist
from it.'

It has been generally admitted by historians
— and we see alight ground for questioning the
received opinion — that from this moment Buck-
ingliam, who had been heard to swear that he
wonld go into France again in apite of King
Louie — as an enemy, if they would not admit him
as a friend — determined at all hazards to force a
war with France upon his master, who bad not
the means of honourably supporting the war in
which he was already engaged with Spain. It
is true that there had been many previous causes
of difference between the two courte^tbat there
had been seizures of ships and merchandise on
both udes. But it was not till this critical junc-
ture that Charles gave Sonbise a roysl commis-
sion to levy men and ships under pretext of their
being employed against Spain.'

The nlief of the Rochellen— the sum>ort of
the Huguenot Protestant cause in EVance — had
ever been an object near to the hearts of the
English people; and it is pretty safe to conjecture
that, among the motive* that drove Cbaries and
the favourite into this rash war was aglimmering
of hope that they might thereby recover the
short popularity they had enjoyed during the
last parliament of King James. By the month

of May (1627) they had collected a fleet of 100
sail, giving out that it was intended to chastise
the Spaniards and retrieve the honour lost on
the Isla de Leon. Buckingham, who, it appears,
attributed that ftulure to the drcumstance of his
not having personally commanded, resolved to
go with the present expedition as high-admtral
and generalissimo. This self-confident, vain-
glorious man had no knowledge or experience of
the art of war : he had never seen a gun fired
except on parade or in asalute, and his high pre-
sumption made him despise the advice and guid-
ance of others. But, as if this were not enough
to insure fi'esh defeat and disgrace, he went to
sea without any concert or understanding with
those with whom he was to act. Leaving Porta-
moutU on the S7th of June, with his 100 ships
and 7000 land troops, who knew not whither they
were going, be came to anchor off Rochelle on
the 11th of July. There he expected to be re-
ceived with open arms, but the RocheUen refused
to admit him into their town, and advised him
to go and make himself master of the isle of Bh6,
in the neighbonrhood. On the following day he
landed a part of his army under the fire of his
diipe, and defeated a small French force com-
manded by Tboinis, the governor of the island.
Buckingham then wasted four or five days hi
landiugtherestof his troops, or in doing nothing.
Thoiras Mnpli^ed this precious time in conveying
all the wine and provisions from the town of St.
Martin into the strong fortress, snd in improviug
the defences of the castle. When Buckingham
moved, instead of taking the fort of La Free,
which then might easily have been done, he
turned it and left it in his rear. He poured his
troops into the bare and empty town of St. Mar-
tin ; but the citadel, strongly placed on a rock,
filled the minds of those who knew something
about war with serious apprehensions. Bucking-
ham, who had expected to take it by a eoup-de-
main, now resolved upon a regular siege, the pre-
parations for which were much criticised. On
the I4th of August Cbaries wrote to felidtate
(rather prematurely) thefavouritenpon his taking
of Bh6~to promise him more men— more pro-
visions— more money — and to tell him to prone-
cute the war, and "by no means to be the first
motioner of a treaty .... but if the French
court ahonld offer, then to hearken, but not to
believe too hastily."' In the same letter the king
spoke of a manifesto, which Buckingham had
pi«pared, to rouse all the EVench Protestants to
aims. "I would wish you," he says, "to alter
one point in it, that, whereas ye seem to make
the cause of religion the only reason that made
me lake arms, I would only le«ve you dedare it
the chief canse; yon have no need to name any

,v Google

AJ). 1623—1027.] CHAE

other." The manifesto, wb«u it went forth to
the Huguenots, eecooded by Soubiae, hia brother,
the Duke of Bohao, and their stirring agents,
produced a much greater effect than Buckicg-
bam'a great gaua were doing. Tn the south of
fVance the ProtestaDta rose almost to a man,
and the Bochellera, for the last time, openly
raised the standard of revolt Towards the end
of Augoet — for daya and weeks went on without

any impression liaing made upon the citadel — an
attempt was made, or was said to have been
made, upon the life of Buckingham by a French
Papist or Jesuit, with a thick three-citged knife.'
Notwithstanding Charles's praise that the duke
was "a proficient in the trade of war which he
had so happily begun," every part of the service
was conducted wildly and at random. Even the
fleet, which remained to prevent the landing of

any fVench reinforcements upon the island, did
iU duty BO badly that, on the 28th of September,
a French flotiUa broke through and ro-victuaUed
the garrison of St. Martin, which must other-
wise have surrendered for want of provisions.
The army was quite ready to lay the whole blame
upon the navy, and to be gone ; and the colonels
of regiments signed a paper which recommended
the abandonment of the siege, Buckingham
knew not whether he should go or stay, changing
his mind several times a-day. On the 1st of
August the king wrote to apologize for his slow-
ness, the cause whereof was the hardness of
getting mariners and the slow proceedings of the
commissioners of the navy; but he assured the
duke that his friend the Earl of Holland should
soon be with him ; and he thanked him for hia
stout heart in not leaving the siege and coming
home.* Holland landed ou the island of Bh6

on the 2Ttk of October, with 1000 men ; and the
Bochellers sent a reinforcement of 600 or TOO.
On the 6th of November the duke, who had not
made a single breach, led liis men to storm the
hard rocks and walla of the citadel, where they
were repntsed with loss at all points. He then
turned to retreat to his ships ; but this was no
longer an easy operation. Marshal Schomberg,
with a considerable French army, had thrown
himself between the duke and the fleet, and had
put a strong corps and artillery into the fort of
LaPrfe, which Buckingham had left in his rear.
There was also to cross a narrow causeway,
flanked on both sides with marshes and ealt-pits,
and now swept by Schomberg with a cross fire.
Not a single precaution had been taken, and
nothing but the native courage of the men and
their leader (tor Buckingham himself was per-
sonally brave) prevented a surrender at discre-

' attrdwitit Stall FajMrt. Th* naj mmt wu nuda of thk
liiddaiit,Hir toandHrtlw&TDOTlls to ill good PntstuU.

pnbUibsd in k qiurto pumphlst ; ud lo nuk* Uw thing man

■mtfnf ttu idmticia thick ttuw-edged knits.

■ Ttaa plu of La RochsllE, giTui abon, ii dnrind from th<
tonoiiiiii Hthoritlia :— " Plu d< U VLllt M do BnTinn di La
Hodialli, sBHiDbla dei Porti, Radoabts, tt Ll(nii^ te. . . . qoa

Vol. 11.

> Rot 7 ■ <Ut bin poni I'sd

grsphA onllnairt d* H Hia., Ao. Id
CoctM da FolCtou, Aaait, nt da U :
ipert. ChfU-lat t4

1 1 Imafiiu li llkalj enooeh tt
n itick not to dirnlgo it" Thr
;., UT conitutlx flowliif frorD t

• Google

S94

HI3TOET OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

. ixj> iSnjTAxi.

Gtm, or ftn atisolate destmctioD. Tbe £ngluh
mah«d like bnU-dogm apon the ouMewaj; and
when thef got bejotid it, Dotwithstuidiiig their
frightful loss, thej tamed their facta tovsrds
the fV«nch, formed iu good order, and offered
them battle- But Schambeig, too glad to lee
them gone, deciiaed the conteet, and permitted
them to re-embark without offering them further
moleetation. The precious fruits of this expedi'
tion were the loss of half the English troopa that
had been engaged in it, and the speedj ruin of
the Bochellera and IVeuch Protestants. The
duke, still loath to leave the French shore, aud
seeing no hope of doing anjthiog near Bochelle,
where an immense anny was concentrating under
the command of Louis' brother, Gaston, Duke of
Orleana, conceived some very notable project
upon that old jewel of the English crown, the
citj of Calua; and his master had written to tell
him that he much approved of that design, and
would see him provided in all things necessarj
for the execution of it with all diligence; "and
for secrecy," added Charles, "I shall speak of it
to no living soul but to Jack Epslie, whom I

have sent for."* But when the favourite counted
his losses, he thought it better to give up the*
enterprise and retom straight to England, when,
as bis master told him, he could not come ■oooo'
than welcome. And, in effect, when he airirTd.
at the end of November, with a disgraced ia^
aud a murmuring fleet, Charles received him with
an iucrease rather than a diminution of affectkm
and confidence, at which people lifted up tbor
hands; and some said tliat asmiredljr nothing bqt
death would part the king and tiiis minister- The
nation wea now sorely hnrt in its pride, and thos
made the more sensible to the illegal attacks oo
its purse- "The refusers," as thoee were caDcd
who resisted the loan, had been brought np to
London and imprisoned by scores. When they
claimed their liberty by habtat eorpat, they were
told that they were detained by the king^ eapedal
commandment Selden and the other constitu-
tional lawyers referred to Magna Charte and its
tbir^-times-repeated confirmation by diffeitnt
Hovereignsi and their disconiaes sent the penile
to study the ancient charters and rights of the
natioa.

CHAPTER VII.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— A.D. 1628—1629.

CHAKLES I.

Charlai ■mnminii hii pkrlimmant — Ha prooead* to raisa mona; bafora it ■miiiiiIiIiii — ladignatiOQ at this onMa-
■UtntiaaKl mauara— Formidabia amj igunit bim in tha Honaa of Conimoiw — Hii manadiig ipMch to tfaam
— Tliair independant oondnct— Thair raaolatioM paaad about tha libaity of ths labjact— Thair " PsUtian of
Right "—IndLreot replj of Ch»rl«« to the patiWon— Ha thrB»tani to proropia parliament— Eaiantniant of tfaa
oommoiu in oaowqusiiCA— Tbair dsbita— Their aitaaki on tba Doka at Backiagliam— Tba lordi join them in
■ppljiug for an annrar to tba Patitiou of Rigbt— Cbarlaa awnta to tba petition—Ea abraptly preR^nea
parilamant — Roohalle olciaelj inTaiM— Coatintiing diilika of tba nation againtt Boakiiighara— Ra naolTca
to attempt theralirfof BochaUe— Ha laamarinatad at PortBnonth— Acsoontof Felton'theaHaHiii— CoDdoet
of Charlai on hearing of tha duke'i death ^Foneml of Bacldngbam— Trial and axaoatiou of Falton^'Chpton
of Roohallo—HeatiDg of parliamsot— Their indignation at the inMngamanti td tha Patition of Bjjht— I^
king anmmona tha lordg and eommani to Whileball— Hii addnaa to them— Ha defeadi bia pracaadinga in
anf OTCring tonnags and ponndaga— Boaolntiona of tha commoni in dafenoe of ooOKnanca and property— CbaHaa
damanda a aattlament of-tonnaga and poandaga — Tha parliament withhold their aoawet^Tbay demand tba
redraaa of roligioni grioTanoaa— Pint appearanee of Oliver Cromwell in i&rliamont— Attaoka on Biabop I«ad
and Aral nianiim— The houM oommandad by tha king to adjonn— Tba mamben eontiona tbair pncaadiDga
— They detain the ipaaker in the ohair— Aitiolea raaaWad by the bouse— Cbarlea diaolTH thii bia thiid
parliaraant— Tha ehiaf recaiaota aant to tba Tower—Tha king'a arbitrary deaigna against them ohaokad— Their
refoaal la nbmil.— Their trial and santeaca — OppnavTo prooaedinfa againit Biohaid Chamben.

Y I7C1I WM the state of afl^urs at
linnj" wlipn Charles was persuaded,
mi)")i against hie own feelings, to
imon a porliaraent, in order
to obtain the means of renewing,
with bitter success, the war abroad.
The writs were Issued on the BOth of January
for a parliament to meet on the 17th of March ;

but they had scarcely gone forth when the king
appointed commiuionei* to collect war-money
from the different conntiea, and inform the people
that if they pud dutifully the sums required of
them he would meet the parliament, if not, he
would think of some more speedy way. Upon

,v Google

A.D. 1028-1629] C

tiuB mad pioceedm(( there arose a uuiverBal crj
of diaappoiutmeut and auger: the commieaioQers
stood aghast, tuid Charles made haat« to revoke
the commuBiou bj a. proclaniatioD, whereia he
promised to rely on the love of his people as
ezprccaed by parliament. Bnt this revocatii
could not undo the mischief which had been
rashly done; and, pinched by bis necessities,
Charles in a few days proceeded to impose i
new duties on merchandise of his own authority.
Both ministers and judges seem to bare feared
impeachmeoti the jodgea had the honesty to de-
clai« that the duties were illegal ; and here again
the king retraced his steps, and called in bia
orders.' At this time Charles had an unusual
namber of troops at his command, and a project
was entertained, and even settled in all ita details,
for the bringing over some thousands of foreign
mercenaries. Hence arose a greater excitement
than ever, and a resolution to return the most
patriotic or democratic members to the House of
Commons. The people of Westminster elected
Bradahaw, a brewer, and Maurice, a grocer;
other places followed their example iu rejecting
the men that had betrayed either timidity or sub-
serviency to the court. When the commons
met, on the 17th of March, their house was
crowded, and their aggr^;ate wealth was said to
be three timea greater than that of the House of
Lords — snch bad been the fruits of commerce
and industry — such the rise of the third estate,
which had now the power as well as the right of
asserting its due influence. It was also observed
that many of the popular membera were followed
np to Loudon by a train of well-doiug, hardy
freeholders, far more numerous than the train of
any of the peers. Shortly before their assembling,
Charles (as boons and great graces) liberated
seventy-eif^t gentlemen who were in prison for
refnaing to ccmtribute to his forced loan, opened
the gates of the Tower to the Earl of Bristol, aud
restored Archbishop Abbot to the exercise of his
authority. But ench was the temper of Charles,
that he conld not make an opeoiog speech to go
in tune with the times. " I have called you to-
gether,' said he, "judging a parliament to be the
ancient, the speediest, and ijie best way, to give
such supply as to secure ourselves and save our
friends from imminent ruin. Every m.-ui must
now do according to his conscience; wherefore if
you, which GSod forbid, should not do your duties
in eontributjng what this state at this time needs,
I must, in discbarge of my conscieuce, use those
-other means which Qod has put iuto my bonds
to save that which the follies of other men may
otherwise hazard to lose. Take not this aa a
threatening (I scorn to threaten any but my
equals), but as an admonition from him that,
> JlwilimrtJt.' Sgnm' Tmdt; Kfmtr,

LES L 395

both out of nature and duty, hath most core of
your preservation and prosperities."*

The commons had not met to threaten; they
were cool and collected, and did not even lose
temper at this irritating speech, or the more bit-
ing harangue of the lord-keeper, who told them
that the king had chosen a parliamentary way to
obttun supplies, not as the only way, but as the
fltteet; not because he was destitute of other
meana, but because this was most agreeable to
the goodness of bia own moat gracious dispoM-
tion. "If this be deferred,' cried this precious
politician, "necesdty and the aword may make
way for otbeta. Remember his majesty's admo-
nition; I say remember it!" Here was threaten-
ing enough; but the bouse muntained its com-
posure, and, without invective or much delay,
resolved to grant five subsidies, and agreed that
the whole should be paid within the year; but
they also resolved that the king should not have
this money until he formally recognized some of
the most sacred rights of the people, and gave a
solemn pledge for the redress of grievances. "It
in us be wrong done to ourselves, to our pos-
terity, to our consciences, if wa forego this just
claim and pretenaion,' said Sir Francis Seymour.
Coke, more vigorous than ever, because more pa-
triotic, invoked the ancient laws, and made se-
veral effective speeches against forced loans and
irregular imprisonments. Other members spoke

sU and at large upon the recent abuses of billet-
ing soldiers, r^ung money by loans, by benevo-
lences, and privy seals; "and, what was too fresh

memoiy, the imprisonment of certain gentle-
men,who refused to lend,and, afterwards bringing
their h<d>eai oorptu, were, nevertfaeless, remanded

prison."' In vain one court member bade
them tiike heed of distrusting the king, who was
young and vigorous, and did these and the like
things out of necessity; in vain another spoke of
the kiugfs goodness being neM only to that of

~ ■ the commons would not be moved a hail's
breadth from their purpose. "Let ua work while

have time," cried Coke; "lam absolutely for
giving supply to his majesty, but yet with some
caution. Let us not flatter ourselves. Who will
g^ve subsidies if the king may impose what he
will} I know he is a religious king, free from
personal vices; but he deals with other men's
hands, and sees with other men's eyes.* On the
8th day of May the commons passed the follow-
ig resolutions, without a dissentient voice; —
1. That no freeman ought to be committed, or
detained in prison, or otherwise restruned, by
oandof the king,or the privy oonndl, or any
other; unless some cause of the commitment, de>
r, or restraint, be expressed, for which, by
law, be ought to be committed, detained, or re-

)/o»nwI(,' Pati. Bill,; KmAKeiilL

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Ci^

D MlUTABT.

strained. 2. That the vrit of habea* eorpu* can-
not be denied, but ought to be granted to every
man that is committed or detained in priBOu, or
Otherwise reatrained b; the command of the king,
the privy council, or any other; he pnijiag the
same. 3, Thnt if a freeman be committed or de-
tained in prison, or otherwise restrained, by com-
mand of the king, privy council, or any other, no
cause of such commitment, &c., being expressed ;
and the same be returned upon an habea* wrptu
granted for the aud party, that then he ought to
be delivered or bailed. 4. That the ancient and
undoubted right of every freeman is, that he
hath a full and absolute property in his goods
and estate; and that no tax, tallage, loan, bene-
volence, or other like charges, ought to be com-
nuuided, or levied by the kiug or hia ministers,
without common assent of parliament."' The
lords were not altogether prepared to second the
commons; the king was determined to cling to
the prerogatives or abuses of his predecessors ;
and, above all, to that particular practice by
nbich, at his own will, be sent the subject to a
prison, without assigning cause, or bringing him
to a fair trial; and, though eogi^r for the five sub'
sidies, which he must hare well known be could
not get vrithout gratifying the commana, Charles
let his intentions appear broadly through a very
thin and transparent veil of compliment and ca-
jolery. Buckingham also did infinite mischief to
his cause, by an impertinent interference, which
was denounced in the commons by Sir John
ElioL Meanwhile tbe mighty stream rolled on-
ward in its resistless course. After some con-
ferences with tbe lords, who were as anxious aa
tbemselvra to put an end at least to arbitrary
imprisonment, the commons, on the 28th of May,
prayed the king's assent to the celebrated "Pb-
rmoK OF RioHT." They humbly showed to his
majesty that, by the statute made in tbe reign of
King Edward L, commonly called Slatutum de
Tailoffio rum eoneedendo, no tallage or aid could
be levied by the king withont consent of parlia-
ment; that, by authority of purliameat, holden
in the 2flth year of Kiug Edward III., it was de-
clared and enacted, that from theuceforth no per-
son should be compelled to make any loans to
the king— such loans being against reason and
tbe franchises of the land. "And,' continued
tbe petition, "by other laws of tbis realm, it is
provided, that none sbould be chai^d, by any
charge or imposition called a benevolence, nor by
such like charge; by which the statute before
mentioned, and the other the good laws and sta-
tutes of this realm, your subjects have inherited
this freedom, that they should not be compelled
to contribute to any tax, tallage, aid, or other like
chuge, not set by common consent in parliament;

yet, nevertheless, of late divers ci
rected to sundry commiswoners, in several coun-
ties, with instructions, have issued, by pretext
whereof your people have been in divers places
assembled, and required to lend certun soms of
money unto your majesty, and many of &aaa,
upon their refusal so to do, have had an nnlaw'
ful oath adminiet«red unto them, not warrantable
by the laws and statutes of this realm, and have
been constrained to become bound to make ap-
pearance and give attendance before your privy
council, and in other places; and others of them
have therefore been imprisoned, confined, and
sundry otber ways molested and disquieted ; and
divers other charges have been l^d and levied
upon your people in several counties, by lord-
lieutenants, deputy-lieutenants, commissionen for
musters, justices of peace, and others, by com-
mand or directioti from your majesty or yoor
privy council, against tbe laws and free customs
of this realm." Then, invoking Magna Charta,
the commons declared, that, by that great charter
of tbe liberties of England, it was enacted, that
no freeman should suffer in person or property,
be imprisoned, outlawed, or exiled, or in any
manner destroyed, but bythe lawful judgment of
his peers or by the law of the land. "Nevertho-
less," they continued, "against the tenor of tie
said statutes, and other the good laws and sta-
tntea of youi- realm, to that end provided, divers
of your subjects have of late been imprisoned,
without any caose showed ; and when, for their
deliverance, they were brought before your jus-
tices, by your majesty's write of habeeu eorput,
there to undei^ and receive, as the court should
order, and their keepers commanded to certify
the causes of their detainer, no cause was certi-
fied, but that they were detained by your majes-
ty's special command, signified by the lords of
your privy council ; and yet were returned back
to several prisons, without being charged with
anything, to which they might make answer by
due process of law." They neit recited how of
late great companies of soldiers and mariners bad
been dispersed through the counties and billeted
in the private houses of tbe inhabitants, to tbdr
great grievance and vexation, and against the
laws and customs of this realm. And they then
proceeded to make their complunt against mar-
tial law, which had been introduced, ostensibly
at least, to check tbe excesses of tbe troops des-
tined for the continental wars. They jid the
king, that, by the said great charter and other
laws and statutes of this his realm, no man ought
to be condemned to death except by tbe laws ce-
tablisbed. "Nevertheless," they added, "of late,
divers commissions under your majesty's great
seal have issued forth, by which certain peraoos
have been assigued and appointed commissioners,

»Google

A.D. 1628—1629.] CHAB

with power &ud aatttoritj to proceed, wiUiin the
laud, according to the jiutice of martial law,
■gainst such soldiers aud mariners, or other dis-
solute persoDS joining with them, aa should com-
mit any murder, robbery, felony, mutiny, or other
outrage or misdemeanour whatsoever; aud, by
such summary course or order as is agreeabls to
nurtial law, and is used in armies in time of war,
to proceed to the trial and condemnation of such
oSendere, and them to cause to be executed and
put to death, according to the law martial; by
pretext whereof, some of your majesty's aubjects
have been, by some of the said (wmmissioners,
put to death," &c. In the end, they prayed that
all these {Mw^edings and practices should cease,
as being contrary to the rights and liberties of
the subject, and the laws of the laud. Charles,
who would fain hare avoided committing himself
l^ any direct answer — who was averse to the sur-
render of the smallest portion of what he consi-
dered his prerogative, but who was gasping for
the subsidies — returned this answer to the Peti-
tion of Bight: "The king willeth, that right be
done according to the laws and customs of the
realm; and that the statutes be put in due eie-
cntiou, that his subjects may have no cause to
complain of any wrongs or oppressions, contraiy
to their just rights and liberties, to the preserva-
tion whereof he holds himself, in conscience, as
well obliged, as of his own prerogative."'

To have remained satisfied with a sauted and
indirect assurance like this would have been the
act of imbeciles or cowards. The commons, who
felt the righteousneaa of the cause they had taken
in hand, and tbe consciousness of their own great
power, not only were not contented, but were in-
dignant And Charles added fuel to tbe flames
1^ sending a message to acqu^jit them with his
intention of proroguing pai'liameut on the 11th
of June. This message was delivered on the Sth
of June, and on the following day the king re-
peated it, accompanied with a hanth command
not t« censure, or enter upon any new business
whi'ch might lead to the censuring or aspersion
of any of tbe officers of his govemmeDt. The
anger of the commons was expressed in eloquent
language, mingled with but scarcely softened by
the religious feeling. Several members said that
the sinful state of the nation went to defeat the
glorious hopes they had entertained. " I per-
ceive," exclaimed Sir Bobert Fhillipa, " that Co-
wards God and towards man there ia little hope,
after our humble and careful endeavours, seeing
our sins are many and so great. This message
■tirs me up ; esjiecially when I remember with
what moderation we have proceeded." Sir John
Eliot continued in the same religious atrun: —
"Our sins," said he, "are soezceeding great, that

unlem we apeedily turn to God, God will remove
himself farther from us. I doubt a misrepre-
sentation to his majesty bath drawn thin mark of
bis displeasure upon us. I observe in the mes-
sage, amongst other sad particulars, it ia con-
ceived that we were about to lay some aspereious
on the government It is said, also, as if we caat
some aspersions on his majesty's miuisters: I am
confident no minister, how dear soever, can — ."
Here Finch, the courtly speaker of the house,
started up from his chair, and, apprehending that
Sir John int«nded to fall upon the duke, said,
with tears in his eyes, "There is a command laid
upon me to interrupt any that should go about
to lay an asperaiou on the ministers of state."
Upon this Sir John sat down, aod there was
silence for a wbiloi Then Sir D. Digges said,
" Unless we may speak of these things in parlia-
ment, let us arise au4 begone, or sit still and do
nothing," And hereupon there waa another deep
silence for a while, which was at last broken by
Sir N. Bich, who said, " We must now speak, or
for ever hold our peace; for us to be silent when
king and kingdom are in thia calamity is not fit.
The question is, whether we shall secure our-
selves by silence, yea or no. . . . Let us go to
the lords, and show our dangers, that we may
then go to the king tt^tber with our represen-
tation thereof." After some ttore members had
spoken to the same effect, the house resolved
itself into a committee, to consider what waa fit
to be done for the safety of the kingdom, and
declared that no man should leave his seat, under
pain of being sent to the Tower. Bnt before the
speaker left the chair, he desired leave to go forth
for half an hour. Tbe permission was granted,
and Finch hurried to the king. The heat in-
creased on his departure. Mr. Eirton, taking
care to preface his remarks wit^ the assertion
that the king was as good a prince as everreigoed,
said, " That it was time to find out the enemies
of the commonwealth who bad so prevailed with
him, and then be doubted not but God would
send them hearts, hands, and swords to cut all
their throats." And he added, that for tbe
speaker to desire to leave the house sa he had
done was a thing never heard of before, and
which he feared was omiTunu. Soon after this
outbreak old Coke rose and said, " We have
dealt with that duty and moderation that never
waa the like, after such a violation of the liber-
ties of the subject. Let us take this to heart
In tbe time of Edward III. had parliament any
doubt as to naming men that misled the king 1
They accused John of Gauut, the king's sou, Lord
I^timer, and Lord Nevil, for miaadvisiog the
king, and they went to tbe Tower for it. And
now, when there is such a downfall of the state,
shall we bold our tongoesl . . . And why m*y

»Google

HISTOKY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

D MiuTAKr.

Tve not mima those who are the cause of fkll our
(iTJla ? . . . Let oa palliate no longer : if we do,
God vUl not prosper hb. I thuik the Buke of
Buckingham ia the cause, and till the king be
informed thereof, we shall never go out with
honour, nor sit with honour here. That man ie
the grievance of grievances; let us set down the
causes of all our disasten, and thej will all re-
flect upon him. As for going to the lords, that
is not via rtgia — our liberties are now impeached
— we are deeply concerned; it is not via reffia,
for the lords are not participant with our liber'
ties. It is not the king but the duke [a great cry
of 'Tia he, 'tis he!'] that aaith, we require you
not to meddle with state government:, or the
ministers thereof. Did not his majesty, when
prince, attend the upper house in our prosecution
of Lord-chancellor Bacon, and the Lord-trea-
Biu«r Middlesex?" This last argument was over-
whelming, and Charles bad felt the whole force
of it before now. Other members accused the
duke of treachery and incapacity as high-admiral
and genertd-in-chief — as an encourager and em-
ployer of Papista — as an enemy, not only to his

JoBH SdJiIK,— Fium tho niRtiih in U» Bodliiui Libnn,

<5i(«d.

country, but to all Chritte}idom. Selden rose up
and proposed a declaration under four heads: —
" 1. To express the house's dutiful carriage to-
wards his majesty. 2. To tender our hberties
that are violated. 3. To present what the pur-
pose of the house was t« have dealt in. 4. That
that great person (the duke), fearing himself to
be qneaUoned, doth interpose and cause this dis-
traction. All this time," continued the learned
omt<)r, "all this time we have cast a man tie over
what was done last parliament; but now, being
driven again to look to that roan, let ua proceed

with that which was then well begun, and let nf
renew the charge that was made last parliament
agaiuat him." At this critical moment, Pinch,
the speaker, coming in breathless haste from the
king, told them that bis majesty's commaada
were, that tbey should adjourn till the next morn-
ing, and that all committees ahould cease in the
meantime. The house quietly adjourned. When
they met on the morrow, the speaker endeavoured
to excuse his twnduct in going to the king, wherea
by he hoped he had done nothing, nor made any
representation to hia majesty but what was for
the honour and service of the house. " May my
tongue," said he, " cleave to the roof of lay mouth
ere 1 speak to the disadvantage of any member
of this house." After this adjuration he delivered
a second message from the king, declaring that
his majesty bad no intention or meaning of bar-
ring them from what had been their right, bat
only wished to avoid all scandals on hia council
and actions past, and that his ministers might
not be taxed; and that no such particulars should
be entered upon aa would require a longer time
for conuderation than what he had prefixed, and
still resolved to hold, for the sitting of this par-
liament. HtB majesty, moreover, said that he
hoped that all Christendom might have to take
notice of a "sweet parting" between him and
hia people, and then he would not bo long in
having another meeting with them, when they
might talk of their grievances at their leisure and
convenience. The commons denied any inten-
tion of taxing the king, but they reasserted their
right of examining his ministers.' On the next
day they went into committee, and examined
fiurlemachi, a foreign speculator, who had ob-
tained a warrant under the privy seal, and, aa ba
confessed before the committee, £30,000, for the
hiring and bringing over troops of German horse.*
One thousand of these mercenaries were already
levied and armed, and waiting for transports on
the coast of Holland. "The intent of bringing
over these German horse," exclaimed one of the
members, " is to cut our throats, or else to keep
us at their obedience." Mr. Windham said t^at
twelve of the German commanded had already
arrived, and had been seen in St. Paul'a Bur-
iemachi, however, asserted that the order for the
embarkation of these troops had been counter-

> Moti» baiiii ukm of Mr.
tlH7 lud lU huti, bwidrMDd

,v Google

1 c

manded. At the uime time the house fell upon
a new project of esciee, copied Apparently after
the Dateh excise, nod intended to be levied, aa
heretofore, without conaent of parli&raent. It
waa confessed b; WilliamBon, clerk of the crown,
that this business was actually in the lord-keeper'H
hands, and under the broad seal.

The lords joined the commons in petitioning
the king to gire a more explicit answer to the
Petition of liight. On the same day at four o'clock,
Charles, having come down to the Honse of Lords,
commanded the attendance of the commons, and
told them that he had thought that the answer
already given was full and satdsf actoiy; but that to
avoid all ambiguoua interpretations, and to show
them that there waa no doublenesa in his meaning,
he was willing to pleasure them as well in words
as in substance. " Bead your petition,* said he,
"and you shall have such an answer as I am sure
will please you." The petition waa then read, and
the clerk of parliament gave the royal assent in
the usnal old Norman form — "Soil droit fait
eomne il ul denra." Then Charles further said,
" Tbia, I am sure, is full ; yet no more than I

meant in my first answer. Yon neither

mean nor can hurt my prerogative. I assure
you that my maxim is, that the people's liberties
strengthen the king's prerogative, and that the
kin^ prerogative ia to defend the people's liber,
ties. Yon see now, how ready I have ahowed
myself to satisfy your demands, so that I have
done my part ; wherefore, if this parliament hath
not ahappy couctnsion, the sin ia yonra—I am
free of it' Thus, the Petition of Right, which
confirmed some of the moat aacred clauses of
Magna Charta, became one of the statntea of the
realm — one of the great victories obtmned over
the arbitrary principle, not by blood but by
money, or the timely withholding of it. Three
days after — on the lOtb of June— the king, still
further to ingratiate himself, and to hurry the
supplies, aaanred the commons, that he was
pleased that their Petition of Right, with his
answer, should be not only recorded in both
houses of parliament, but also in all the courts
of Westminster: and, further, that his pleasure
was, that it should be print«d for hia honour and
the content and satisfaction of hia people; and
that tiie commons should proceed dieerfnlly to
■eftle business for the good and reformation of
the oommonweath. On the 12th of June the
oommona passed the bill for granting the five
mibaidies; but, at the same tune, they desired
have a copy of the new commission of excise, and
demanded that it should be cancelled, as b
contrary to the letter and spirit of the Petition of
Bight Cfaariea made haste to cancel it, taking
care, however, to stat« tiiat this was done because

the glutting of the Subsidies had rendered nnne-
cessary that mode of raising money,

After obtaining judgment from the lords npon
Dr. Mainwaiing, and animadverting on the con-
duet of lAud in licensing the printing and pub- -
lishing of nnconatitntional sermons, and enter-
taining designs contrary to the independence and
conscience of the people,* the commons fell agun
upon Buckingham, and vot«d a long and formi-
dable remonstrance against him, which was pre-
sent«d to the king by the speaker. On that same
day the duke complained to the lords of a mem-
ber of the lower house who had attributed to him
a disrespectful speech' which he had never made;
and he moved that the said member should be
called upon to justify himself, and his grace beard
against him. The lords, considering this com-
plaint, ordered, "That the doke should be left to
himself, to do therein as he thought proper."
He protested, upon his honour, that he had
ver had the worda imputed to him so much as
hia thoughts, and the lords ordered this pro-
testation to be entered on their jonmala.' The
commons took up the tannage and poundage biU,
with the intention of pasnng it for one year,
preceded, however, by a remonati«noe against
tiie levying of the duties as Charles had done,
without their consent. Before the bill was passed,
and while the clerk waa reading this remon-
strance, they were summoned by the king to at-
tend him in the House of Lords at an early hour.
His majesty had come down unexpect«dly to the
upper house, and neither he nor the lords hod
had time to robe themselves when the commons
appeared with their speaker at their head. How-
ever, Charles, unrobed as he was, but seated on
the^throne, addressed the following speech to the
two housefl, clinginf^ as it will be seen, with the
most tenacious graap to hia old notions of pre-
rogative:^" It may seem strange," aaid he,
" that I come so suddenly to eud this sesuon.
Before I give my assent to the billa, I will tell
you the cause, though I must avow that I owe
the account of my actions to God alone. It ia
known to every one that, a while ago, the House
of Commons gave me a remonstrance, how ac-
ceptable every man may judge, and, for the
merit of it, I will not call that in qneation, for I
am snre no wise tnan can justify it Now, since

> MiU*, Biihop ot WitHhdtsT, ma Knpltd wUh Lwid. uid

BTHiMnthf"'- ipaHh, daU'ind k\ Ui own l>bl^ wn, a
laMuba. "Tiuta: It nukanomiitlDwbU tlHDDBiBou
for. wttbinit WJ iHn ud uthotltT, (bar
011^ tba hair (rf a dag."
' Aasidiiig to Whitalook, Bnohlin^nm ibo "shutid «
tldril, a Bootclmuii, lei ujiBf that hg. th* dnka, Intaodad u
put Ui* Unt upon ■ wmr ncaiut tbs ummaultf, «llh tlw w
lirtuHH of Bootlud and tbi Uk*, ud that BlrTbnnM OTabur;
had pobunad PHuh Hsnrj b^ ht

»Google

400

H[STOBY OF ENGLAND.

[CmL AND UlLFT^UtT,

I am truly informed that a second remonBtrance
ia preparing for me, to take away the profit of
my tonnage and poundage, one of the chief main-
tenances of my crovn, by alleging I have given
away my right thereto by my answer to your
petition, this is so prejudicial to me, that I am
forced to end this session some few hours before
I meant, being tiot willing to receive any more
remonstranceB to which I must give a harsh an-
swer. And since I see that even the House of
Commons begins already to make false construc-
tions of what I granted in your petition, lest it
be worse interpreted in the country, I will now
make a declaration concerning the Xrue intent
thereof. The profession of both houses, in the
time of harmonizing this petition, was no way
to trench upon my prerogative, saying they had
neither intention nor power to hurt it. There-
fore it must needs be conceived that I have
granted no new, but only confirmed the ancient
liberties of my subjects. Yet, to show the clear-
ness of my intentions, that I neither repent nor
mean to recede from anything I have promised
you, I do here declare myself, that those things
which have been done, whereby many have had
some cause to expect the liberties of the subjects
to be trenched upon, which, indeed, was the
first and true ground of the petition, shall not
hereafter t)e dr«wn into example for your preju-
dice; and, from time to time, on the word of a
king, ye shall not have the like cause to com-
plain. But as for tonnage and poundage, it is a
thing I cannot want, and was never intended by
you to ask, nor meant by me, I am sure, to grant.
To conclude, I command you all that are here to
take notice of what I have spoken at this time
to be the true intent and meaning of what I
granted you in your petition; but especially
you, my lords the judges, for to yoa only,
nndef me, belongs the interpretation of laws ;
for none of the houses of parliament, either
joint or separate (what new doctrine so ever
may be raised), have any power either te make
or declare a Uw without my consent.' It ia
undeniable that, by this abrupt prorogation,
while so great a matter as tonnage and
poundage was still unsettled, the king returned
upon his late footsteps, and dissipated what
little hopes might have arisen from his tardy
assent to the Petition of Bigbt.' And it should
be borne in mind how frequently Charles pur-
sued the same retrograde course — how con-
stantly he grudged the smallest concession —
howeagerbewaatoavail himself of any subter-
fuge by which he might escape the bonds of his
pledged word. It was thus that the nation, which
began by doubting bis sincerity, ended iu disbe-
lieving his moat solemn assurances. Charles,

bad another dangerous practice, which
was, to hasten to honour the men marked with
thereprobationof the House of Commons. Thus,
one of bis first acts after this prorogation was to
translate the obnoxious Laud from tbe see of
Bath and Wells te that of London. Laud testi-
fied bis gratitude t« the court by drawing up a
reply to the remonstrance of the commons.

Before Buckingham began his inglorious re-
treat from Rh6, the city of Rocbelle was invested

fo A ndiiil prioL

by a royalist army, under the command of the
Duke of AugoulSme and Buckingham's quondam
friend Marshal BaHsompierre. Although be bad
incited them to take up arms, Buckingham sailed
away without throwing into the place tbe com
and provisions which he had promised, and which

the Boohellera greatly needed.' Cardinal Riche-
lieu, who had set his whole soul upon reducing
this last stronghold of the French Proteatanti,
made immense preparations for prcMing the

»Google

' A.D. »S8^16S9.1 CHAR

mtgB, and induced LonU XIII. to go thitlier in
person to excite ttw ze&l of hU numerous troops.
The kii^ Boan graw tired of the tedious opera-
tions, and returned to Paria: but Btcbelien, a
better soldier than priest, remained npoo the
ipot, and eaperinteiided the constmction of the
eelebnted dike, which waa compared to the
works nuaed by Alexander iJie Great for the re-
dnetion of old Tyre,

The Rocheltere clamoured for snccoor where
succour wsa due; the English people were much
I by religious sjmpath;; Chwlea wae
to aaaiBt them, and Bnckinghsm waa
burning to retrieve his honours and hnmble the
French coart, Dnring the aitting of parliament
prepSirationa were made for another expediticm,
and the Tote of tho five Erabaidiea might have en-
abled the king to do more than was retdly done.
But the nation waa vexed with ramotua of some
new intrignee set on foot between the fVench
queen and the Enf^lah favoDrite, and they might
well donbt the reentt of anjr warlike enterprise
that was to be conducted by so incapable a com-
mander as Bnckingbam. The people of London
had continued to express their detestation of
this man, and their fury had broken out in one
dark act, unnsnal to an English rabble even in
the wont times of excitement. On the day on
which the House of Commons had pronounced
the duke to be the curse of the nation, they
barbaronsly murdered, in the streets of London,
Dr. Lambe, his physician, who was supposed to
have a prindpal part in his eril Mnosels.' They
then made a doggrel distich, which passed from
mouth to mouth like some of the bloody rhymes
of a more recant, but not English revolution : —

A few days after the murder of Lambe a label
was stack upon a post in Coleman Street, which
ranthm:— "Who mies the kingdom t— The king,
-'Who rules the king)— The dnke.— Who rules
the duke 1— The devil."'

On the Wednesday of the following week "his
tnajesty went with tiie duke (taking him into his
own coach, and so riding through the city, as it
were to grace him) to Deptford, to see the ships;
where, baring seon ten fair shipe ready rt^ed
for Rocbelle, they say he uttered these words to
the duke: — "OtH^rge, there are some that wish
that both these and thou mightst both perish.
But care not for them. We will both perish to-
gether if thou doeet." After these nnequivocal
indications it scarcely required a spirit from the

I. 401

other world to intimate that tiie life of the fa-
vourite was in danger.' But the gay and con-
fident Buckin^am proceeded to Portsmouth,
where he was to embark for Rochelle. Upon
Saturday, tho 23d of August, " being at. Bartho-
lomew's Eve,* writes Howell, " the dnke did rise

1 a well-dispoaed humour out of his bed, and
cut a caper or two; and being ready, and having
been under the bcLrber's hand (where the mnr-

r bad thought to have done the deed, for lie

leaning apon the window all the while), he
went to breakfast attended by a great company
of commanders, where Monsieur Soubise came
him, and whispered him in the ear that Bo-
chelle was relieved: the dnke seemed to slight the
news, which made some think that Soubise went
away discontented." This admirable letter-writer
is generslly well-informed as to passing events,
bnt it should appear that it was Buckingham
who attempted to persuade Soubise that Hochelle

relieved. Soubise knew very well that the
place waa not relieved, but he had other grounds
for discontentment; and as no state secrets
were kept, as scarcely a servant of the king or of
Buckingham had the honesty to conceal what he
~ i make money by discloaing, he probably
knew that Secrvtaiy Carleton, who had at that

lent arrived at Portsmouth with despatehes,
brought the duke orders to open a correepon-
dence with BJchelieu as soon as he should reach
Bochelle, and abandon the French Protestants
for the sake of an advantageous peace with Louis.
Besides Sonbise there were many refugees i^ut
Bnckingbam; and they were seen to gesticulate
very violently in conversing with the duke. This
was only the habit of their country when excited,
but to the English it aeemed as if they threatened
his grace with actual violence. The duke left
his chamber to proceed to his carriage, which
was in wiuting, still followed by the vociferating
and gesticulating tVenchmen. In the hall he
was stopped by one of his ofAeers, and at that
moment he received a knife in his left bresat.
He drew forth the weapon, staggered, and fell ; .
and died with the word "VillunJ'upon his lips.
In the throng and confusion no one saw the hand
that struck the mortal blow. Suspicion fell upon
the Frenchmen, who were with difficulty saved
from the fury of the duke's attendants. Then
nme ran to keep guard at the gates, some to the
rampnrta of the town. During this time there
was a man who went into the kitchen of the
very house when the deed was done, and stood
then unnoticed of all. Bnt when a mnltitade

niu HtBUTlUe : Ellk, LHUn.

ofB In jthLloaopltj, IflUi A lonr atory &boat tiu fboat of Bir
Georst ViUim, tba Olhar <rf tli* dulu, mppcMius UnMHTml

imntlilng Id iDsntiftta hlnnslf wlih tli* pniilii.
bate tha eirtTWDO nwU« th«j bore hlair hs iron]
) UTS but * iliart tlBW.— M>(i>t7 ^ M> IMMIaii.

w Google

402

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil amd MiLir^Br.

of ckptaiDB ivad geatlenieii niihed into the house,
eiclaiming, "Where u the vilUinT — where ia the
butcher?* — that man calmly came forth amongst
them, saying, "I am the man!— here 1 am!"
They drew their swords, and would have de-
spatched him on the spot but for the timely
iDterference of Sectetaiy Carleton, Sir Thomae
Morton, and some other*, who took charge of
him till a guard of musketeers arrived and con-
Teyed him to the govemor'a house. Tlie amaaaiu,
who might mo«t easily hare escaped, had he
been so minded, had written a paper to declare
his motive, imagiaing that he must perish on
the spot, and leave no one to speak for him.
This p^>er was sewed in the crown of hiit hat,
half wiUiin the lining, and was to this effect : —
"That man ii cowardly base, and deservetli not
the name of a gentleman or soldier, that is not
willing to aacriBce his life for the honour of hia
God, his king, and hia country. Let no man
oommeud me for the doing of it, but ratJier dis-
commend themselves as the cause of it ; for if
God had not taken our hearts for our sins, he
had not gone so long unpunislied. — John Fel-

Mr. John Felton, a gentleman by birth and
education, was no sti^Dger to many of the men
aud officers then collected at Portsmouth, amongst
whom he had served on former occasions. He
had been a lieutenant in a regiment employed
the preceding year in the wretched expedition
to the isle of Rh£, but he ha<l thrown up his
eommisuoD in disgust because he saw another
man promoted irregularly over his head, and
because he was refused payment of his arrears.
According to his own account, he was a zealons
Protestant 1 his zeal amounted to fanaUcism.
He was now thrust into a dungeon, and horribly
laden with irons, and a royal chaplain was sent
to commune with hira. Felton understood that
this clergyman came not merely lo offer ghostly
comfort, but to search him an to his motives and
accomplices, and he said to him— "Sir, I shall
be brief — I killed him for the cause of God and
my country." The chaplain replied that the snr-
geons gave hopes of the duke's life. " It is im-
possible," exclaimed Felton, " I had the power
of forty men, assisted by Him that guided my
hand.* The chaplain failed in his mission, and
the enthusiastic assassin was conveyed from
Portsmouth to the Tower of London, there to he
examined by bishops and lords of the council.
On his road he was greeted with prayers and
blessings by the common people, who regarded
him as a deliverer.'

t Tha Driflul Mt«F !• In nItUr

In tb* piiiiiilwi of Hr. tJpoMt, of

• "At Fdlon ib* lut imk |hi

i througli KEuicnton-upon-

"The court," says Clarendon, "was too near
Portsmouth, and too many courtiers upon the
place, to leave this murder (so barbarous in the
nature and circumstances, the like whereof had
not been known in EIngland many ages), long
concealed from the king. His majesty was at
ths public prayers of the church, when Sir John
Hippesly came into the room with a troubled
countenance, aud, without auy pause in respect to
the exercise they were perfoiTning, went directly
to the king and whispered in his ear what had
fallen out. His msjeity continued unmoved,
and without the least change in bis countenance,
till prayeiv were ended, when he suddenly de-
parted to his chamber and threw himself upon
his bed, lamenting with much passion, and with
abmidance of teara, the loss he had of an excel-
lent servant, and the horrid manner in which he
had been deprivnl of him ; and he continued in
this melancholic discomposnre of mind many
days. Yet his manntr of receiving the news in
public, when it was first brought him in the pre-
sence of so many {who knew or saw nothing of
the passion he expressed upon hia retreat), made
many men believe that the accident was not very
imgratefiil, at least, that it was very indifferent
to him, as being lid of a servant very ungracious
to the people, and the prejudice of whose person
exceedingly obstructed all overtures made in
parliament for his service. And, upon this ob-
servation, persons of nil conditions took great
license in speaking of the person of the duke,
and dissecting all his infirmities, believing they
should not thereby incur auy displeasure of the
king; in whicli they took very ill measures, for
from that time almost to the time of his own
death, the king admitted very few into any de-
gree of trust who had ever discovered themselves
to be enemies to the duke, or against whom he
had manifested a notable prejudice."* .

For the present Charles took the duke's widow
and children under his special protection, paiit
his debts, which were considerable, styled Buck-
ingham his martyr, and ordered his body to be
burinl among the illustrious dead in Westminster
Abbey. He could not, however, venture upon a
grand public funeral. At t«n o'clock at night,
on the Ifith of September, a colBn was borne on
men's shoulders, and in a poor and confused
manner, from Wallingford House ovpr against
Whitehall to Westminster Abbey, there being
not much above a hundred mourners, who at-
tendeil upon an emptff coffin, for the duke's corpse
itself had been secretly interred the day before,
as if it had been doubted the people in their

■Now Oo.! him thH

lud killed Oollath. .

KHTTod till thfr p«r1ljintBnE; bat otb«n pimj God

nckad ind pot to OmUi b*ian.''-H<*d^ In Bllii.

,v Google

mtidDeM might h&re fmrprised it. An tbe empty
coffin was carried along by night, to prevent dis-
order, the tnin-bandB kept guard on both sides
of tbe way, beating their drums to drown the
voices of the people, and carrying their pikes and
musketB upon their ahouldera aa in a march, not
trailing them as was usual at a mouraing.'

FeltoD, meanwhile, peiMsted in hie assertion
that he had no accomplices, and no motive hut
that of doing good to his country and the caose
of the true religion.* The Earl of Dorset, who,
according to some accounts, was accompanied by
Bishop Laud, went to the Tower and threatened
the prisoner with the rack. " I am ready," said
Felton; "yet I must tell you that I will then
accuse j/au, my Lord of Dorset, and ao one but
younelf." The king was dsurons of employing
the rack; but the House of Ckimmons had of late
given many salutary lessons and warnings, and
the judges unanimously declared that tbe use of
torture had been at all times unwarrantable by
the laws of England ; and upon this declaration
Charles declined to use his prerogative. For
some time Felton gloried in his deed ; but at
length, "through the continual inculcation of his
majesty's clisplaina and others of the long robe,"
he was induced to consider himself in the light
of a foul murderer. It may be doubted, how-
ever, whether he ever really regretted that Buck-
ingham was removed. When put upon his trial,
he confessed the fact with which he was charged,
but added, that he did it not maliciously, but out
of an iutereflt for the good of his country. The
Attorney -general made a speech in aggravation of
the offence, showing the high quality of the per-
son killed, who was so dear and near a subject
of the king's, so faithful a servant to bis nuijeaty,
so great a counsellor of state, a general, high'
admiral, &c, &c; and, producing the knife in
open court, he compared Felton toRavailIac,who
had murdered Henry IV. of France. Judge
Jones asked Felton what he could eay why judg-
ment should not be given gainst him, without
impannelling a jury or examining witnesses. Fel-
ton answered that he was sorry if he had taken
away so faithful a servant to his majesty as Mr.
Attorney had described the duke to be, and,
lifting up his arm, he said, "This is the instru-
ment which did the fact; I desire it may be first
cut off." The judge told him that, by the law, if
a man strike in the king's palace, lie ia to lose
his hand, &c.; but it was not his majesty's plea-

< H«de HTi thu It wu
"tbit UaoaJj HHifsilBimt
ef Uh pultuDut. whlnh h< then Tultj thsMht io 1

I. 403

that they should proceed against him in
other way than that which the law had
ordinarily determined in such cases. " You
shall therefore," said he, "have the law and no
moral" and so gave sentence he should be hanged
until he were dead. Felton bowed and thanked
his lordship. He was hanged at Tyburn, and
his body, by the king's orders, was sent down to
Porlemouth and fixed on a gibbet.'

lu lieu of Buckingham as commander of the
expedition to Bochelle, Charles appointed the
Earl of Lindaey, who sailed on the 8th of Sep-
tember with a formidable fleet and army, which

10 more than might have been done had they
still been commanded by the favourite. At the
same time private negotiations were carried on
with the French court 1^ means of Mr. Walter
Montague,* who was then a Catholic in heart,
and, as such, averse to the Protestant Rochellers.
Lindsey returned with dishonour, and soon after
Bochella, the last bulwark of the Hugiienote,
was taken by Richelieu. When the siege began
there were 10,000 souls within those walla; when
it ended there remained but 4000, and these half
dead from famine.

Parliament, which had been f ur-

'■ ther prorogued from the 20lh of

October to the 20tli of Januaiy, met when the
spirit of Protestantism was embittered by these
events. The first acts the commons did were to

re all committees of religion and grievances,
uid to take into consideration what things the
liberty of the subject had been invaded in, against
their Petition of Bight, since tbe end of the last
session. Mr. Selden soon after reported to the
house that the unpalatable speech which his
majesty made in the lords the last day of the
last session had been entered on the journals
along with the Petition of Bight, and the proper
answer, by his majesty's command. But in fact,
to the country Charles had suppressed the proper
document, and circulated in its stead a copy of
the petition with his first answer to it, which
pariiament had rejected. The king's printer being
sent for to know by what authority he had sup-
pressed the original impression and printed an-
other with unwarrantable additions, answered
that he had a warrant for it-, and upon sending
some of the members to hia house, it was found
that the clerk of the lords had sent the proper
papers ; that, during the sitting of parliament,
1000 copies of them had been printed, but vary

maDMtnnaar thabaoMof puHunut, U ama Into fall Tnlsd
that, ill oammfttlnc tha act of killing ths dnka, ha ^ould do
hk amntrjr gnat good HrTloD. "
• JtiukniKA.- SUU TnaU: CuMm and Kaada, tn Rlif.

aftarwarda pablkly ncantad, leitlad la Fiauoe, «ai mada com-
BHiidatoiy abbot of FodMh, and ■ mambar of th« Mouill M
tba qani) nfant, Aana of Anatria.

»Google

401

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

(Civ

. audMiutaht.

few divulged; and that th« day after th« eeniuu
was euded the attorney-geoeral had sent for the
priuter, and told him, as fnmi Uie king, that he
miwt uot publiah these papers — that the lord
privy-seal, the Earl of Worcester, had told him
as much; and that soon after the printer w^is
sent for to court, and told that he tnnst make a
new imprewioa, and print the Petition of Ri^it
with the king's first answer to it, and his lua-
jestj's last speech in the loi-ds. The house was
indignant at tlii* doublenlealing. "For this
Fetitiou of Right," aaid Selden, "we know how it
has been invaded since our last meeting. Our
liberUes of life, person, and freehold have been
invaded — men have been committed contrary to
that petition. , . . No inan ought to lose life or
limb but by the law, and hnth not one lately lost
his ears by order of the Star Chamber) Next,
they will take away our arms, and then our legs,
and so our lives. Let all see we are sensible at
this. Evil customs creep in on us: let us make
a just representation thereof to his majesty."
But the attention of the house was preseutly
drawn away to the ease of Mr. Holies, a merchant
and a member of the house, who compluned !
that his goods were seized by the officei's of tlie
customs, for refusing to pny the rates by them
demanded, although be told them what was ad-
judged to be due by law he would pay them.
This case, which wae only one of many, trans-
ported the commons. "Cast your eyes which
way you please," exclaimed Sir Robert Phillips,
"you see violations of the liberty of the subject
Look ou the privileges of this house. . . They
knew the party was a parliament man; nay, tJiey
said if all the pariiament wns with him, or con-
uemed in the goods, they would seize them just
the same." "We have had good admouitiouB,'
cried Littleton, "and we hare followed them.
We liave had moderation preached to us in par-
liament, and we follow it. I would otheis did
the like out of parliament. Let the parties be
sent for that violated the liberties of parliament,
that they may have their doom." The king sent
a message commanding them to stay any further
debate or proceedings in that case until the mor-
row at two o'clock in the sfterooou, when his
majesty wai resolved to spesk with both houses
in the Banqueting House at. Whitehall. On the
morrow — the S4th of January— the two hoosee
attended at the time and place appointed, and
Charles thus addressed them, paying a compli-
ment to the lords at the expense of the comnrons:
' ^e care I have,* he said, "to r«move all ob-
stacles that may hinder the good con-eapondency,
or cause a miaundentandiug betwixt me and this
parliament, made me call you hither at this time,
the particular occasion being a complniut lately
moved in the lower hou^e. For you, my lords,

I am glad to take this and all other o
whereby you may clearly understand boUi my
words and actions : for, as you are nearest in de-
gree, so you are the Attest vritueaseH for kings.
The complaint I speak of is for staying men's
goods that deny tonnage and poundage. This
may have an easy and short couclnsjon, if my
words and actions be rightly uudentood; for,by
passing the bill as my ancestors have had it, my
by-past actions will be concluded and my future
proceedings authorized, which certainly would
not have been struck upon if men had not ima-
gined that I had taken these dutiesaa pertaining
unto my hereditary pi-erogative, in which they
are much deceived; for it ever was, and still is,
my meaning, by the gift of my people, to enj<^
it ; and my intention in my speech at the end of
the last seHBioo was not to challenge tonnage and
poundage as of right, but lU btne e*te, showinj;
you the necessity, not the right, by which I was
to take it until you bad granted it mito me, as-
suring myself, according to your geueral profes-
siouB, that you wanted time, and not good-will,
to give to me." He proceeded to tell the cotn-
mons he expected that they, without loss of time,
would vote the tonnage and poundage, and so
put an end to all questioug nriiiiug out of tiiis
subject, "To conclude," be proceeded, "let us
not be jealous one of the other's actions; fco', if I
had been easily moved at every occasion, the
order made in the tower house on Wednesday
night last might have made me startle, there
being soma show to suspect that you had given
yourselves the liberty to be tlie inquisitors nftn"
complaints, the words of your order being some-
what too largely penned, but, looking into your
actions, I find you only hear complaints, not seek
complaints, for I am certain yon neither gtreteud
nor derire to be inquisitors of men's actious before
particular complaint be made.'

The truth was, the commons were resolute to
be inquisihKs of many men's actions — meu like
Iiuid and other bishops, counsellors, and minis-
ten, who attacked their consciences and their
property. The commons knew well that the
voting of tonnage and ponndage for life was a
comparatively modnn practioe, and they were
det^mined not only uot to vote these duties for
life, but not even for a term of years — no, not
fur a single yeu" — unlew they ^ould see a change
in the condnct of the king. They proceeded in
the first plaee to the subject of religion, declaring
that the bosiness of the kings of this earth should
give place to the business of the King of Heaven.
For doctrine and discipline, and all matters con-
nected with the chnrch, Charles had giveu the
reins to Bishop Land, who was not only resolved
to introduce great and manifold changes, which
oHlainly went to assimilate tuoie and toon the

»Google

AM. 1628—1629.] CHA8

Ajiglicao eatftblithmimt to the Bomut churcli,
bat alao to tolerate no delay or disacnt — to en-
force conformity by impriaoninent, the pillory,
the hftngmBo'H whip and knife. laud's creed waa
Arminiajiiwii in the widaat aenae. The commons
ooupled the two thinga together, and compliuned
of the rapid increwe of Arminituuam and Papia-
tiy, much resenting the fact, that of late not one
Papist had been hanged for receiriiig orden in
the Church of Boroe. Mr. Pym {»npoaeii that
the houM ahould take a oorenMit for dte mun-
tenance of their religion and rigfita, which were
both in danger; and be and other members in-
veighed loudly touching the lata introdncing of
idoiatroua ceremonies in the churcli by Coeens
•nd others. As the mne of the land were deemed
to be greater than its troubles, they ordered that
a confeieuoe should be desired with the lords
about a petition to the king for the orderiug of
a general fast. The lords granted the conference
and joined in the petition, which was granted by
the king, with a few remarks which greatly ir-
ritated the petitioners. The king admitted the de-
plorable estate of the fiefornied churches abroad,
which was made the chief ground for the petition;
but he told parliuuent t^t certainly fighting
would do those churches more good than fasting.
"Though," Doutinued he, "I do not wholly dis-
allow the latter, yet I muHt tell yon that this
custom of fasting every session is but hUeJy be-
gin) ; and I c<»ifeea I am not fuily aati^Gsd with
the necessity of it at this time." A day or two
after, the king sent a message to the commooa to
tell them that they ought to settle the question
of tonnage and poundage before they meddled
more with religion ; and the court party, now
weak and timid, made some epeechea in reoom-
mcmdatiou of the message; but the Puritans only
fell the more violently upon some of the bishops
for introducing the new ceremoniea. They again
indignantly asserted that Popery aud Arminian-
ism were joining hands to produce a Bomieh
hierarchy and a Spaniah tyranny. On the 28th
of January Secretary Coke delivered a second
meaaage from the king, telling the commons that
his majesty expected rather thanks than a re-
monBtraoce; that still he would not interrupt
them, BO that they trenched not on that which
did not belong to them. "But his majesty,"

LES I. 405

added Cuke, "still commands me to tell you t^iat
he expects precedency of tonnage and poundage."
Dark rumouiB were abroad of the king's inten-
tion to dissolve parliament as soon as they ahoDld
vote the tonnage and poundage for life, and "not
soon to call another." The oommona continued
to occupy themselves with the subject of religion,
and they drew up a brief resolution, stating that
they held for truth the articles of religion as
eetabliahed by parliament in the reign of Eliza-
beth, and ntterly rejected the sense of Jesnits
and Aimiaians. On the Sd of February, instead
of tiieir bill of tonnage and poundage, they pre^
sented to the king tiieir "Apology* for delaying
that.HlL They complained of his majesty's
Braiding them two messages in three days, telling
him that that manoMr of pressing the house was
inconsistent with their orders and privUc^^, On
tiie following day Secretary Coke assured the
house, in his majesty's name, that he was fnis-
oaderstood as to a command, which wia not the
meaning, but simply a deeire on the king's part)
for the sake of concord ; that his majesty was aa
anxious as they were for the true faith, but must
needs think it strange that this business of reli-
gion should be only a hindrance of his afliurB.
And, in the end, Lhe king insisted on their pass-
ing the tonnage aud poundage bill, telling them
they must not think it strange, if he found them
alack, that he should give them xui^/urfAer jutct-
enitig as he might find cause. This message did
Charles far more barm than good: the house
stuck to tlieir grievances,' and weut on debating
about Popery and Anninisnism. Hr. Kirton de-
clared that the "two great bishops" (I>nd and
Neile) were the main and great roots of all those
evils which were come upon them and their re^
ligiou. "Let ua inquire," added he, "what sort
of men they have preferred in the church, and
why." Everybody knew that Mainwaring, and
Sibthorp, and Coeens, aud other men obnoxious
for their Arminianism and their advocacy of an
absolute monarchy — individuals condemned aud
sentenoed by parliament — had been recently put
upon the ladder of promotion; and the house
now appointed a sub-committee to inquire into
tbe pardons granted to those offenders, in soom
of their own justice.' i

In the course of the debates on this subject

"Pnwkliud hi Eoclwd br > diq»t, tlia IMonuUam

puUaM (nd bw •dhbIv nUk*. Hanfj VIII. with oi
lalMd •uSbldi tar Iha Kaam CathoUs, with Uh otk
Of buna for (ha PntsMnu who rrfUKd u> mtOMicihi
not tbt immiBunt whldi tt

dnNfa hul lat all It! own atnactb, ■
iffhta or her power bat ■■ vt tb* pv**r i
nIsBottbxtiitaL atewHthmbon

UnAnglioU
DC longn hald hvr
riftatl «l (1» •STfr
s thawMof ««>U

w Google

406

HISTORY OF ENGLAND,

[Civil amd Milttabt.

there rose to apeak, for the first time, a sturdy,
somewhat clowaish-looking man, of about thirty
years of age, with a Bloveoly coat and a neglected
hat His speech was thick and gracelesB, but
there was an earnestness in his manner, a look of
command about his persoo, that imposed respect,
if not awe. It was Mr, Oliver Cromwell, the
new member for Huntingdon. "I have heArd,"
said Cromwell, "from one Dr. Beard, that Dr.
Alablaster hath preached fiat Popery at St. Paul's
Cross, and that the Bishop of Winchester (Dr.
Neile] commsnded him, as his diocesan, to preach
nothing to the contrary. And Dr. Mainwaring,
BO justly censured for his sermons in this house,
has been, by this bishop's means, preferred to a
rich living. If these are steps to chiirch prefer-
ment, what may we not eipectr

The result of the whole inquiry was, that the
bishopfl and the court hail in all cases taken the
obnoxious preachers and their principles, both po-
litical and theological, into special favour. The
commona, however, did not altogether lose sight
of illegal taxation. They brought Acton, the
sheriff of London who had seized the merchants'
goods, on his knees to the bar of their house,
and thence sent him to the Tower. They also
brought to their bar some of the officers of cus-
toms, who declared that they had made the seiz-
ures by the king's warmnt; and one of the officers
■aid he had been sent for and commanded by the
king to give them no further answer. The com-
mons even brought the barons of the exchequer
to account; and those high functionaries declined
justifying the legality of the measures which had
been pursued.'

On the SSth of February tlie sub-committee of
religion presented a loug and circumstantial re-
port, under the title of "Heads of Articles agreed
upon, and to be insisted on by the house.' In
this paper no quarter was shown to Laud and
Arminianism. They compluned especially of the
publbhing, by bishop's license, of books in fa-
vour of Popery, and of the suppressing of books
gainst Popery. They asked, among many other
things, for the removal of candlesticks from the
communion-table, which they said was now wick-
edly called a high altar; for the removal of pic-
tures, lights, and images, and of praying towards

the east, and crossing ad omnem motum et gtttum.
They complained of the bishops bringing men to
question and tronble for not obeying their com-
mands in these respects; but they themselves
called with stentorian voices for the persecuting
of the Papists and the exemplary puni^meut
of all teachers, publishers, and maintainers of
Popish opinions. They required, moreover, that
books like those of Montague and Munwaring
should be burned ; that some good order should be
taken for licensing books hereafter; that fatshop'
rics and other ecclesiastical preferments should
be conferred by his majesty, with advice of his
privy council, upon learned, pious, and orthodox
men; that the bishops and clergymen thus chosen
should reside upon their charge, and that some
course might be taken in the present parliament
for providing competent means for the mainten-
ance of a godly, able minister in every pariah of
the kingdom.'

Tn the face of thia resolute opposition, Char-
les rashly det«rmined, at all hazards, to rooin-
ttun lAud and the hierarchy. Immediately after
the reading of the above articles, he sent to com-
mand both houses to adjourn to Monday, the
Sd of March, notwithstanding the right which
the commons claimed to fix their own adjourn-
ment. Thereupon the house adjourned; but, on
the Sd of March, Sir John Eliot stood up, and,
after eipresaing his duty to the king, once more
denounced Arminianism, and then fell with his
whole weight upon the great Bishop of Winches-
t«r and his greater sbettor — "that is," continued
Eliot, "the Lord-treasurer Weston, in whose per-
son all evil is concentrated, both for the innova-
tion of religion and invasion of our liberties; he
being now the great enemy of the commonwealth.
I have traced him in all his actions, and I find
him building on those grounds laid by hia mas-
t«r, the great duke; he, secretly, is moving for
this interruption; and, bntn this fear, they go
about to break padiamenti, lett parfiamftiUi ihovld
breai them." Then the speaker, Sir John Knch,
delivered a message from the king, commanding
him "to adjourn the house until Tuesday come
seven-night following.'' Several members ob-
jected that this message was vexatious and ir-
regular, and that it was not the ofi!ca of their

IfufaiATDlif to dups til

iji bttam, wlia hid thmglit ■bcnil

ry Htloinl} <nds>d, wen Dot qnlta b tu liebind-

iH^actliig it— ttut aotuUr tlirir

sd pnmw^ |It«i Dpto I
w minoT rnllng put bdof cumllil Bm. vlio kHW how
•• tb* ditltot at th* othin, lul ttiBtbj, m ikUtal

CuItI*, vol. i. p. IIS.

»Google

A.D. 1628—1629.] CHAE

speaker to deliver anjr suuh eoannaiida— for the
Bdjoumment oE the house properly belonged to
themselvea. And tlieo they aaid that, dfter they
had settled a few thiiigx, they would natiafy his
mnjeaty. Sir John !Eliot forthwith jirod^iced a
remonatrance to the king against the illegal levy-
ing of tomiage and poundage, and against the
lord -treasurer, who "<ltiiniayed tlie merchants,
drove ont trade," &c. Eliot desired the upealcer
to read this paper, but the apealiei' mid he could
not, an the king had adjourned the house. It
was then proposed that the remonstrance should
be read by the clerk of the house, at the t^ble,
but the clerk also refused. And thereupon EHot
read it himself with much moi'e eflect than either
of the officials could have produced. When Sir
John had finished the reading, the sjieaker re-
fused to put it to the vote, Kiyiug, "he was com-
manded ollierwise by the king.' Mr. SeJden then
got up and said, "Mr, Speaker, if you will not
put the question, which we command you, we
must ait still; and so we shall never be able to
do anything." The speaker replied, that he had
an express command from the king, so aoon as he
had delivered bis mesaage of adjournment, to rise.
And thereupon he rose ; but HolMs, son to the
Earl of Clare, Mr. Valentine, and other members
of that stamp, forced him to sit down again, and
held him fast to his chair. At the same time
some of the patriota locked the doors of the house,

I. ■t07

and brought up the keys to the table. Sir Tho-
mas Edmonds and other members of the house,
JO were privy counsellors or courtiers, rushed
the I'eleaae of the pinioned speaker. " God's
wounds!* cried Hollis, "he shall sit still till it
pleases us to riBe." A rude scuflle ensued, during
which the speaker $A«d an abundance of tear*.
As the courtiers were too weak to release him, he
at last sat still, and said, crying more than ever,
I will not any f mill not, batlilare tiot. I have
his majesty's commands. I dare not sin against
the express command of the sovereign.' Selden
then delivered a constitiitioual speech on the du-
ties of a speaker of the House of Commons, and
told him that he ought to proceed and put the
remoastrance to the vote; but the speaker "still
refused, with extremity of weeping and suppli-
catory orations. Sir Peter Haymaii, a gentleman
a own county and of his own blood, told him
that he blushed at being his kinsman; that he
waa a disgrace to his country^a blot to a noble
family; that all the inconveniences that might
follow — yea, even to the destruction of parlia-
ment— would be considered as the issue of his
baseness by posterity, by whom he would be re-
membered with scorn and disdain." Sir Peter
ended by recommending, that if he would not do
his duty, he abould be brought to the bar of t)i«
house, and a new speaker chosen at once.'

As neither advice nor threats could prevail

■ In [Im '■ JMof iau afUu notl/inuiiu Kin^Ooma and ao
In Paill'l CIlURlifvd, London. 1*»,- ws flnd « coplomd*

miDtiy huJ rtilpytd nndrr llm imriOc JiiEW. Aftei

Ihr EntlUli court, nDhlHly, gditrj, -ml dtlnn., with iIkm of

tkt oonUnniUl lutiont. anil flnding the ailriiatigs eiairvtwn

upon tlH htubindiDiin. and conipin him to men of like imnkt
in allwr plum, ind [ MisMi, a]»ii miitun cixialderatloii, out

brmoe our nolila tntiomm villi dmjjm at imitmtloa,

"In IreUntl ha la tarmad a cliurle, in Cngbiui a elownv:
bnt look Dti him tnilj tm ha Uvoth IndcsJ, and 70a ahail flnd*
ili malntainar oT hli fUailr, in (onUnned dsuant*.

tele, and complalna to tbe Jullea If a bm laLIar man nionf
him. And flnallj, in a rmrowaa oT good liqoor of Ilia own
hnwinf, can obatint it with tha poet. Anfftia tiUra ftiu, ral

^ura that fbllowaof the buQ* oounaania] aetititj,
proaparitj of Eoflaud, Dno maj eaelly iniafiii*

what an I
cht attdmpta made ^7 thanrowu
of capital and laliour bj tha n
othar nnjDat and i^JndiciiJiiB na

Intarikn with tha fna eoi

tlia plaaaora of nnranatlon in hit DT<ihJiTd or ftan1«ii, I0 eiijoy
IIh rmlU of tha «Rh with plantla, to liia In ndilibourijr (la-

manj rhildnn, aenanta, and ilon of calloll, lo punh» graat
aatatee, marrj our dan; litaia bajoitd riivctii inn, and almigthan
cm* anolbsT in worthj faniiUaa, aiHl aill^Ma klnlrail ; than
loolia npou Eafland and tall maa, wban la the likaT"

TothaaamaaSM ia Mrt. Ualchlnaon't «i|Ul>ita deeeriptioD
Df EnitandatthstlnMof harMrUilii lOfll :— " BrIUalne halli

manta. and bana nckonad allmoat Id alt ngia. at
warrlunn at uij jmit of tha worid aaiit fiirth." Ao.
Ub of Mrt. Lhwt HatrhiiHini, written br henelf. p
her Jf«ei/i</M( Uft <tf CtltHK /rwclUwA

,v Google

403

HISTORY OF ENGLAND,

[Civil AMD Miutart.

on the spcftker, iui<l aa they well knew they
would not again be allowed the opportunity of
expresMng their aentimenta in parliament, the
eommous hastily drew up a protest under the
following heads:— "1, Whoaoever shall bring in
innovation in religion, or by favour seek to eZ'
t»nd or introduce Popery or Anuintaiiimn, or
other opiuioDB disagreeing from the true or or-
thodox church, shall be reputed a capital enemy
to this kingdom and commonwealth. 2. Who-
soever shall counsel or advise the taking and
kvying of the subsidies of tonnage and poundage,
not being granted by parliament, or shall be an
actor or inatmment therein, shall be likewise
reputed an innovator in the goremment, and a
ea{Htal enemy to this kingdom and oommon-
wealth. 3.1f anymerchantorotherperaouwhat-
aoerer shall volmitarily yield or pay the said
subsidies of tannage and poundage, not being
granted by parliament, he shall likewise be re-
puted a betrayer of the liberty of England, and
an enemy to the same." As Mr. Hollis read
thMe articles ha was loudly cheered by the house.
While they were reading, the king, who had
hurried down to the House of Lortls, and who
was perplexed at not seeing the speaker, sent a
nessenger to bring away tiie aerjeant with his
aioM— a symbol almost as important as the
speaker, and without which there could be no
bouse. But the members sl«pped the seijeant,
and, taking the key of the door from him, gave
it to a member of the house to keep safe and
sure. Not seeing Serjeant or mace, the king de-
spatched the usher oF the black rod to call up the
commons, that he might dissolve the parliament;
hut the commons refused to receive either the
black rod or bis black meaaage. When Charles
heard this he grew farioua, and, sending for the
captiun of the pensioners and his guardi
dered them to force tke door; bnt the commons,
in the meanwhile, having voted their protest,
and adjourned themselves to the 10th of March,
had risen and were gone.

Upon the 10th of Karch the king went down
to the lords with the proclamation for the disaolu-
tioD of parliament, which had been signed on the
3d. Several members of the lower house wen
iu the lords when the king arrived, but the com-
mons had not been aammoued as was usual, and
their speaker was not present as he ought to
have been. " My lords," said Charles, " I ne
came here upon so uupleasing an occasion : thi
fore many may wonder why I did not rather
choose to do this by commission ; it being a general
maxim of kings to lay hartih commands by their
ministers — themselven only executing pleasing
things. But, considering that justice is as well an-
swered in commending and rewarding of virtue,
aa punishing of vice, I thought it

come here this day, to declare to yon, my lord«,
and all the world, that it was only the disobe-
dient carriage of the lower house that hath caused
this dissolution at this time; and that yon, my
lords, are so far from being causers of it, that I
have BO much comfort in your lordships^ cairisge
towards me, as I have cause to distaste their
proceedings. Yet that I may be clearly under-
stood, I mnst needs say, that they do mistake me
wonderfully that think I lay the fault equally
upon all the lower house; for, aa I know there
are many as dutiful and loyal subjects as any are
the world, so I know that it was only some
mperi amongst them that had cast this mist of
difference before their eyes; although there were
! amongst them that would not be infected
with tfaiscontagion— insomuch that some of their
speaking (which indeed was the general fault of
the bouse on the last day) did show their obe-
ce. To conclude, my lords, na those evil-
affected persons must look for their tewanls, so
you that are hereof the higher house, may justly
claim from me that protection and favour that a
good king oweth to his loyal and faithful nobility.
And now, my lord-keeper, do what I have com-
manded yoit." Then the lonl-keeper said, " My
lords, and gentlemen of the House of Commons,
the king's majexty doth dissolve this parliament.*
And thns, flattering the lords, and threatening
the commons, Charleii endeil his third parlia-
ment, on the 10th of March, 1689.'

But before the closing scene the king had laid
his hands upon some of those whom he called the
" viptn* Eliot, HCIlis, Selden, Valentine, CoH-
ton, Hohart, Hayman, Long, and Strode, the
memtwra who Iwut been the most active in getting
up the protest, and keeping the speaker in his
chair, were summoned by warrant (dated the 5lh
of March) before the privy council. With the ex-
ception of Ixuig and Strode they all presented
themselves, but refused to answer out of the
house for the things they had said in it; and they
were thereupon committei) to the Tower. Long
and Strode surrendered upon the issuing of a
proclamation for their arrest, and they were sent
to join their friends. The houses of Eliot, Hcdiis,
Selden, Long, and Valentine were forcibly en-
tered, their studiea broken open, and their papera
seized by the king's warrant.

Charles issued a long declaraition to all his
loving subject^, explaining the causes which
moved him to dimolve the last parliament; but
every step he now took only added to the exaa-
peistion of the people. Being fully resolved to
proceed in the Star Chamber against the mem-
bers of parliament whom he had committed (o
the Tower, be propounded a series of questions to
the judges, who again were fonml somewhat lets

> XuAtmft.' arMUiidu Fart. Bin.

Dimliz.cIbyGoOQle

CHARLES I.

409

cninpljiDg than was expected. Jmlge White-
lock afterwards (and we believe timidly and pri-
vately) complained agumit thia way of sending
to the judges far their opinions beforehand, and
Bud, that lif Bishop Land went on in thia way,
ha would kindle a flame in the nation. At the
same moment of excitement the High Commis-
Bion Court and the Star Chamber passed several
harsh eentencea ; and on the 2Sd of March the
king iaaned a proclauiation, which was interpre-
ted by many as meaning a determination on hia
part to discontinue parliaments altogether, nnlesa
he could reduce the House of Commons to be the
instrument of bis will. " We hare showed,' said
Charles, " by our frequent meeting onr people,
onr loTC to the use of parliaments; yet, the late
altuse having for the present driven us unwil-
lingly out of that course, we shall account it
presumption for any to jir^acribe any time unto
us for parliaments, the calling, coutinuing, and
dissolving of which la always in our power; and
shall be more inclinable to meet in parliament
again, when our people shall see moie clearly
into our intereitta and actions, and when auch as
have bred thia interruption shall have received
their t-ondign punishment." He afterwards gra-
ciously told the nation that he would not over-
load his subjects with any more burdens, but
satiafy himself with those duties that were re-
ceived by hia father, which he neither could nor
would dispense with, but should esteem them un-
worthy of his protection who should deny them.'
The apprehensire, or that numerous ctess
which, for the sake of excitement, exaggerate
calamities, apoke in comers of Tower-hill and
the block, or Tyburn and the gallows ; but the
arbitrary faction could not venture upon such
extreme measures, and the imprisoned members,
in the end, met with nothing but illegal fines in
addition to their harsh imprisonment. When
they aued for their hahetu eorpat, and were
brought up before the Court of King's Bench,
the court iawyera made a return that they were
detained for notable contempts, and for stirring
up sedition, as alleged in a warrant under the
king's sign manual. Their counsel argued against
the legality of the pi-oceeding, and made a stand
on the kin^a explicit confirmation of principles
and precedents in the Petition of Right. The
king's counaet slurred over that great constitu-
tional enactment, and the Attorney-general Heath
— " a fit instrument for those times''--^inibbled
and evaded, and set up the old tyrannical doc-
trine of imprisonment at the kinj^s will. In
thia manner— this wretched irritating manner-
did Charles and his tools endeavour to explain
away every confirmation of constitntional rights
--every concession made to the people, till the

Vol. II.

people would no longer give the sli^test credit
to his most solemn promises. The Attorney-
general Heath recited old authoritiea to prove
that prisoaera committed by the sovereign or the
privy council were not bailable. The judges,
however, wrote "a humble and stoat letter" to
the king, declaring "that by their oaths they
were to bail the prisoners; but thought fit, before
they did it, or published their opinions therein,
to inform hia majesty thereof, and humbly to ad-
vise him (as had been done by his noble pro-
genitors in like caae), to send a direction to his
justices of his bench to bail the prisoners."* The
Lord-keeper Coventry would not tell the judges
whether he had shown thia, their letter, to (iie
king or not ; but dissembled the matter, and told
them that they must attend his majeaty at Green-
wich. There the king received them in a man-
ner which showed be was displeased with them,
and he commanded them not to deliver any
opinion in this caae without consulting with the
reat of the judges. These judges, obviously by
royal command, delayed the busineBs,and so it was
putofTtotheendof the term. When the Court of
King's Bench was ready to deliver its opinion,
the prisoners, by the king'a command, were re-
moved from other places of confinement to the
Tower; so that the writs of habeat corpiu hav-
ing been addressed to their former keepers, who
of course could not produce them, the prisoners
were not forthcoming to claim the right of bail.
They were thus detained in close custody during
the whole of the long vacation which ensued.'

Towards the end of the vacation the judges
were commanded to attend at Serjeants' Inn, as
his majeaty had urgent need of their services.
Upon Michaelmas Day— the day appointed— the
judges atteuded; and then the Chief- justice Hyde
and Judge Wliitetock were sent by the loitl-
keeper to advise with the king at Hampton Court
There the privy council was sitting; but Charles
took the two judges aside, and told them he was
willing the imprisoned membera should be ad-
mitted to bail, notwithstanding their contumacy
in refusing to declare that they were sorry for
having offended him; and he also told them that
he should abandon the Star Chamber proceed-
ings, and prosecuto them in the King's Bench.
The answer of the judges, who felt what was
right, but who were not bold enough to oppose
the king, did not give entire satisfaction— for
Charles spoke disrespectfully of their "oracles
and riddlps.'''

brlngJns (lu4r Mabm «>

vt Ilia HUM Clma tbl> pkHi? triak
m eoiBiiunwiu *lotiUL "Soma
n, oommlttad bf tka oomicll, ud

»Google

4tO

HISTORY OF ENOLAND.

[Civ

. A»D HlLITART.

Upon the first day of Micbaelmas t«rna, the [m-
sonera, who hod been already thirty weeks tit close
ronfioement, without resort of friendn or family,
(iKbarred from the tise of books, Rtid pelt aud
ink, were brought iuto court, and ordered not
only to fiud bail for their pregeat charge, biit
siiretiea for tlieir good behaviour in fntnre.
They refused tu give these lureties, but were
ready with bail tor their appearance to answer
the present charge. The judges intiniate<l tliat
they would accept the same per-.
aona both for sureties and bail ;
but the captives were determined
not to tie their tongues and fetter
their own hands by making their
friends answerable upou so tick-
ti^<h a point as good behaviour,
which was to be judged of by
the king and his ministers.
They all firmly refused la give
the sureties in any shape, and
thereupon they were all sent back
to the Tower.

The attorney-general theit ex-
hibited an information in the
King's Bench ajraiiist Sir John
Eliot, Mr. Deneil Hollin,and Mr.
Valentine. Sir John wascharged
with words uttered in the house

as we think him the greatest offender and the ring-
leader, shall pay to the king a fine of £2000, and
Mr. Hotlis a fine of IDOO marks; and Mr. Valen-
tine, because he is of less ability than the rest,
shall pay a fine of .£500." And to all this all the
other justice^ with one voice, assented.' Long,
who had been pricked sheriff of Wiltshire, was
not brought into the King's Bench for bis con-
duct in the house, but into the Star Chamber,
for attending in parliament when he was bound.

ticularly with saying that thi
privy council atid judges had conspired to
trample under foot the libertiM of the subject
—that no man was ever bhwted in the House
of Commons but a curse fell upon him, &c,
Hollis and Valentine were charge<l with the
tumult on the last day of the session, when the
speaker was forcibly held doMi in the chair. The
defendauta put in a jilea excepting to the juris-
diction of the court:—" ForBsmuch," as it was
alleged, "as these offences are supposed to have
been done in pBrliameut, they ought not to be
punished in this court, or any other except in
jiarliametit." The judges, i[|ion demun'er, over-
iitled this plea, and the prisoners refused to put
in any other. Upon tlie last day of the no^t
term juilgnieut was given against them upon a
nihil <iicil by Mr. Justice Jones. But, heavy as
was their offence, Jones assured the prisoners
that their punishment should be hiid on " with a
light hand;" and then he delivered sentetioe —
"1. That every of the defendants shall be im-
prisoned duriug the king's pleasure: Sir John
Eliot to be imprisoned in the Tower of London,
nnd the other defendants in other prisons. 2. That
none of them shall be delivered out of prison until
he give security iu this court for his good beha-
viour,and have made submission and acknowledg-
ment of his offence. 3. Sir John Eliot, inasmuch

Tn< Stjih Ohamwii, bmiaa oi

« FuKciriL Ram.'

as sheriff, lo be present in his own county. This
was a revival of an old manoMivre, and people
understood perfectly well that Long's severe sen-
tence, condemning him to a fine of 2O00 marks,
imprisonment during the king's pleastire, and a
public submission, wa« solely oit accoinit of his
behaviour in the House of Commons,

Previously to the passing of these tyrannical
sentences against members of parliament, a mer-
chant had felt the ruthless seviirity of the court.

Richard Chambers was summoned before the
privy council for refusiitg to pay any further
duty for a bale of silks than might he demanded
by law. The bale of goods had been seized by
the officers; but this waa not deeme«l punishment
enough, and Charles wanted an opportunity to
re-state his principle, in scorn of the Petition of

»Google

A.D. 1620-1635.]

CHARLES I.

4)1

Bight, that he could ]a,j on duties b; preroga-
tive. Smsrtiag tinder hie wrougs, and foreseeing
the deplorable eooBequences that mnat ensne if
this arbitraty principle were establiahed, Cbani-
bera told the privy council " that nierchnnts had
moiG encouragement, and were less screwed and
wrung, in Turkey than in England." For theae
words an information was preferred against
him in the Star Chamber; and that det«atable
oourt, declaring itaelf of opinion that the words
weT« intended to make the people believe that
tiw happy ffotfemmetit under which they lived
was worse than a Turkish tyranny, forthwith
sentenced Chambers to pay a, fine of ^£2000, and
to sign a written acknowledgment that he bad
spoken the words insolently, ooutemptuously,
seditiously, falsely, and maliciously. The honest
merchant signed a paper, but of a very diffe-
Not kiud from that requirad, (or it was to this

effect : — " All the above contents aud submission,
I, Richai-d Chambers, do utterly abhor and de-
test, as moat unjust and false, and never till death
will acknowledge any part thereof." And being
a devout man, a Puritan or Precisian, he sub-
joined several texts of Scripture, one of which
was— "WoB unto them that devise iniquity, be-
cause it is in the power of their hand.' His fine
was immediately estreated into the exchequer,
where he pleaded Uagna Cfaarta and other sta-
tut«s against the fine by the king and his coun-
cil, it not being by legal judgment of his peers;
but the barons would not suffer his plea to be
filed. Afterwards Chambers brouglit his habecu
oorpvt, but the judges remanded htm ; and after
twelve years' imprisonment, aud a long waiting
for satisfaction for his losses from the Long I^r-
liameut, this champion and martyr of law and
right died at last in want'

CHAPTER VIII.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— A.D. 1629-16;

CHAKLES I,

SjiDliloiiii of Charle*'" mrtrilnTT pnrposes — ^r ThomM Wentworth gota over fa the Rofalialt- Hia riaaanrl aicen-
danoy- Otho* tolla* WiotwoTth'i •lample— Couiuellon ot CharJa*~Wan of l^lud >t thu period— Thi
Thirty Tmh' wu-- Viotorin of OuiUtoi Adolphiu— CH>tur* of Ha([debuis by Till;— Coutnwt □( tbc Sw«di*li
witb tha Iin|ierul aruiiai— Cbuln ligns a traat; of puce witb Spain — Hii ■scrst agTMiueDt with Spain
•gaiiut tbe NBtbarUodi — Countar-proeeedingi of Charlm iii Flandai* and Brabant — Kii negotiatioiu tLere
tbmugh Sir Balthazar GBrbiar- Oerbisr'i report of bii procMdingi- Cbarlea often to bsconie ths protMtor
of tteM ttatas againit Francs and Spain— The nogMiation tancinalfii nnauccMsfully — Charlea aeDdi aid to
Ouff^TQi Adolphoa^-Charlaa pvrniti in l«vjiiig tonnasn and ponndaf^ —He rertvea old frmdal impoiti — Ria
oppr waive modaa of raiiiTig monej — Thair injuTioni effeota — Tnto]«mnt conduot of Biabop I^ud and the High
Church parlr—lADd'apaTHeutioDotAlaiaadBr Lcigbtoc- itasiitancsof tbaPniitana— Prynna'a BittriifMaf
Ox— Character of Uie work— Trial of Pitdiii for pablialiing it— Savers lentance paaad apon him- Visit of
Charlaa to ScotUod — Hii coronatian there — Arbitrary prooeedingi against tbe Scotliib church — Doplicity of
Charlea'a proneadinga in tha Scottiah parliament — Laud becomsi Arclibiahop of CaDterhury- Hii afTenuve
lueunrei in the huilfling of ehurchet — Hii Bomiah form of coDaecnting Iham— Hie iiopoaitioti of finea for
repairing St. Paul'i- Hia partiality for clarieal celibacy- Hia defancs of painted church windoin- Hii innn-
vationi among tbe clergy — Hia pnKOotion of iiii onsturea— Uialike of tlie Puritana at thaM proceodingi — The
Book itf SpoTti lapnbliihad ind restored— Land'a growing iufluenoa and rulo— Hii jpirttoal dnpDliam over
the United Kingdom and its depandanciei.

j] VERTTHING now went to spread
conviction that Charles in-
tended to throw off for ever the
restnint of parliament, and to
rule nndi^pisedly as an absolute
king. The orthodox pulpits were
made to shake wiUt loud expoundings of the
Divine right; and about this time a pamphlet
was put forth advising the king to have no more

parliaments, I'ecommeuding to him the example
of Louis XI. of France, who had put down par-
liaments in that kingdom, and subnkitting a re-
gular eclieme of despotism to be upheld by a
military police.* But sUll there were circum-
sUnces which might seem to indicate that Char-
les thought rather of managing the House uf
Commons, by winniug over some of its most in-
fluential members, than of taking the more des-

* II wai proTid. bawenr, that tbli pneicne pKalnctlun wu
not wrtttm ftw Clivka, bnt for kta faUur Janu^ many Jtait
brfnn; mdttaat Itwunowmida pabJtsind' farailal" by (he
palriotlB paitj la ontor to put tli«lr ftUowjabjMli on Iholr

iprird

ily, (dtbn nowcrn

ar»t, mt|tatykln(, Uk*

»Googie

412

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[C.V

D HiLlTART.

perate step ulluded to. Perhaps, however, he
considered the services of such eminent men as
Sir Thomaa Wentworth, Sir Dudley Digges,
Soye, aod Littleton, to be worth the piirchasiiig,
parliament or no pHrliament; for the rouutry
contained none more able, and tlieir promptness
ill apostatizing gave him a reasonable ground for
believing that they would not be deterred by a
ReDBe of shame, or by Bcrii]jleii of couHcience,
from going any lengths in the service of their
new master. Wentworth, the most renowned of
the company. Lad gone over to the court some
time before this. After being one of the stur-
diest of the reformers and boldest declaimei's in
the House of Commons— after sufTering impri-
sonment for refusing to contribute to the foi-ced
loan—this eminent person, a gentleman of York-
shire, who boasted bis descent, by bastardy, from
the royal line of the Flantageneta, out of a very
ignoble rivalry, and an ambition for rank and
titles (even his friends could find out no purer
motives), made his peace with Buckingham a short
time before that favourite's death, and sold him-
self, body and soul, to the court He had his
reward; and the splendour of it, no doubt, served
aa a decoy to other patriots of his stamp. He
wns elevated to the peerage by the title of Baron
Wentworth; he was caressed by the king: he
was taken to the bosom of lAud; and by the end
of the year 1626 he was made a viscount and lord-
president of what wa» calleil the Court of York,
or the Council of the North. From the first
moment he obtained power he useditagainat his
former political associate* without mercy or re-
morse; and it may be that, fiom that very mo-
ment, the party set down the renegade for a
sacrifice whenever the wheel of fortune should
tura in their favour. The indisputable and com-
manding abilities of the man also made them
bate him the more because they feared him. Sir
Dudley Digges, though a spirited debater and a
man of talent, bad been known for some time to
be without principle; and, upon being offered the
post of master of the rolls, he clc«ed at once
with the bargain, and turned round upon " the
vipers," as the king called his former friends,
the leadera of the opposition. Noye and Little-
ton, both distinguished lawyers, followed the
same course ; Noye was made attorney-general,
Littleton solicitor-general, Beingthiis placed in
a ptositioii to explain and stretch the prerogative,
they did that work apparently without a blush
at the recollections which were but as of yester-
day, when they combated for the rights of parlia-
ment and the liberties of the people. Thei* was
no new king's favourite in lieu of Buckingham,
for the Earl of Holland was mther the favourite
of the queen (iicandal said her paramour) than of
Charles. Holland, however, like the extravagant

Hay, Earl of Carlisle, had a seat at the council
table, where also sat the pompous Arundel, earl-
marshal; the contemptible, horse-whipped Earl
of Montgomery; his brother, the Earl of Pem-
broke; and the Earl of Dorset; who, one and all,
thou^t more of pleasure than of busiueas, and
were content that the king should ruin himself
or the nation, provided they could have their eu-
joymenta. Charles's two secretaries of state at
this time were Sir John Coke and Sir Dudley
Carletoit ; his chancellor, or rather lord-keeper,
was I^ird Coventry; his lord privy-eeal the Elarl
of Manchester; and his lord-treaaurer the Lord
Weston, whom Eliot hod denounced in the last
sessiou oil the great enemy of the commonwealth.
But all these counsellors together had not the
power over the king of Wentworth and Laud.
The rise of the churchman had been forwardml
lather than checked by the anossiuation of hia
great patron Buckingham. Charles knew that
he had long been in the habit of writing for the
duke, and guiding him in matters of business; he
called Laud into the privy council, and promiaed
to raise him to the primacy aa aoon as it should
pleaae Heaven to remove old Archbishop Abbot.
It should seem that, on a closer acquaintance, the
sympathies of the king and bishop chimed to-
gether wondrously well ; and that, while Laud
adored the Divine right of kingn, Charles em-
braced with the zeal of a crusader tlie right of
the bishops to coei'ce the faith of his people.

All this time England was at war with France,
Spain, and, iu elfect, with the Emperor of Ger-
mauy; but so insignificant were the events that
rose out of this state of hostility, conijMred with
the events at home, that the minutest historians
scarcely devote a page to them. Indeed, without
any comparison with the important transactions
at home, the warlike opei-ationa in which the
English were actively concerned were paltry and
worthless in themselves, being, in fact, little
more than an exhibition of Cliarles's weakness.
With Franco he had gone to war without reason,
and he wan glad to makeapeaee without hongur,
abandoning the Flinch Protestants to their fate,
and scarcely mentioning the cause of his sister
and brother-in-law the Palatine. This peace
with France wo-t made public in the spring of
162!), and in the following year, notwithstaiul-
ing the prayers and tears of bis wife, who would
have prolonged the war, b«eaitt» Friaice was stilt
at war with Spain and the whole house of Aus-
tria, Cliorles concluded a peace with Philip, the
pacification of King Jamee being assumed M the
groundwork of the treaty.

But the other belligerents on the Continent
were carrying on the Thirty Yeorrf war, which
arose ont of the Bohemian insurrection, with a
very different spirit. The Liou of the North had

»Google

A,.D. 1629--1633.] OHAR

Btuted from hia laii-— OtuUvui AilolphuB hsui
crosHed the Baltic on the S4th of June, 1630, and
niebed into Germany for the support of Froteat-
KDtiBro Hid the humbling of the Emiteror Ferdi'
Hand. A series of most brilliant victoriea was
obtained bj the daring Swede, who wan in clone
league not only with the Protestants of the Em-
pire but with the French, who, guided by the
bold policy of Cardinal Bichelieu, now oniuipo-
teot in FraDce, stretched their arms in ail direc-
tions, across the Alps, the Pyrenees, to the fron-
tiers of the Spanioh NetherlHnds, to the Bhine
and the Elbe. Savoy was not only overrun, but
aloioat entirely conquered; and in It&ly the car-
dinal dictat«d t«rms to the pope, who, as much
out of necetaity as out of inclination, had adhered
to the house of Austria and to the em])eror, who
was considered as waging a religious war against
heretics. When Qiislavus Adolphus entered
Germany, the power of the eni|Mror was almost
everywhere predoinJDant. Hia generals, the fe-
rocious Tilly, the bloody Pappenheini, the ambi-
tious Maxim ilisn of BavariK,and Wallenst«in, in
whom all these qualities were united in their
extreme proportions, had crushed the power of
the Protestant alateH, and laid waste, with every
circumstaoce of cruelty, the territories of friends
and foeti. Walleiistein had been removed from
command by the jealoirs fears of Ferdinand, who
At one time fancied that the foi-tunate and aspir-
ing general aimed, if not at the imperinl crown,
at the old crown of Uohemia; Maxiniilinn of Ba-
varia was rejoicing in the possession of the Pa-
latinate, whicli he hoii helped to win from his
cousin Frederick ; but Tilly and Fappeiiheim
were still in Uie field with a vast army of veteran
troopa, so flushed with tbeir many recent victo-
ries, that they called themselves invincible. But
they were soon found to be no match for the
highly discipllneil, hardy ti-oo{ia from old Scan-
dinavia, led on by a hero and a gi-eat lacliciau,
The courtiers at Vienna told the emjMror that
the Swede wdb but a king of suow, who would
melt away as he approached the south ; but the
Swede continued his onward course, and thei'e
was no melting away, or, if there was, it vti
tliat nature which releases the avalanche from the
mountain, to thunder through and overwheli
the valley beneath. The only eveut that clouded
the joy and success of the Pi'otestants was the
capture of the rich and Protestant city of Mag-
deburg, which was eiTect^d byTtlly and Pappeu-
hrim while tlie Swedta were occupied in another
direction. The ferocioua Tilly let loose his wild
Croats, Walloons, and Paudours upon the tlevoled
citizens, who were massacred without distiuction
of age or sex. Wlien they had sacked the rich-
est hoases they set fire to the rest, and, a violent
wind rising, the whole town was boou wrapped

3 I. 413

flames, which consumed both quick aud dead.
In less than twelve hours one of the finest cities
of Germany was reduced to an unsightly heap of

1 and ashes, and 30,000 of its industrious
inhabitants had perished by different kinds of
deaths, but all horrible. Such a tragedy had not
often lieen perpetrated in modern wars: the sack
of Magdeburg excited horror throughout the civi-
lized worid; but the Protestants consoled them-

a with the belief that it must be followed
by the curse of the Almighty— and, in fact, it was
the last of the emperot's succeases in this war.

are called upon to mention the moral and
devout bearing of the victorious Swedes, both
because it was rare and beautiful iu itself, and
because, in the courae of a few years, it became
the model of that Euglibh army which termin-
ated the Civil war. In the Imperial army, which
also professed to fight for the blessed cause of
religion, there reigned only immorality, lust,
cruelty, and disregard of all the virtues and de-
cencies of life: in the army of Gustavus, on the
contrary, every fault was punished with severity;
but, above all, blasphemy, violence to women,
stealing, gamini;, and lighting duels. Simplicity
also of manners and habits was commanded by
the military laws of Sweden; and in the whole
camp, and even in the kinffs tent, there was
neither silver nor gold plate. The eye of the
sovereign observed as carefully the morals of his
ti'oo|» as their bi'avery. Every regiment was
obliged to form itself in a circle round its chap-
lain for morning and evening prayers; and this
pious act was tlien performed in tbe open air,'

It was in the month of November, 1630, that
Cliarles wgned his solemn treaty of peace with
Spain. Philip, not in tbe treaty, but iu a private
letter, pi oniise J Charies to restore to his brothei>-
in-law, th« Palatine, auch parts of his territories
(they must have been very inconsiderable) as
were then occupied by Spanish troops, and to use
his be^t endeavoiin with his near relative, the
emperor, to reinstate the expelled prince as he
was before his acceptance of the Bohemian crowu.
And C'liarles, as a fitting return, entered upon a
seci-et contract, whei-eby he agreed to unite his
arms with those of Spain for the subjugation of
the Seven United Provinces, which his great pre-
decessor Elizabeth had so largely contributed to
free from the oppressive Spanish yoke. Charles,
as a share of the spoil, was to have and to hold
Zealand and other territories. There had been a
talk of this precious scheme before, when Charles
and Buckingham were at Madrid wooing the in-
fanta. But now the matter went so fsr that the
agreement was signed by Charles's ambassador,
Cottington, and by Olivai«s, who was still tlie
favourite and prime minister in Spain. All this

■SchJll«'>/f4l(Vy</Utni'</l'Mn> War.

,v Google

414

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

had been done iu the ctoaeataecrecj — ^notabreatli
of the m7«terj h»d got abroad ; but Charlea, aee-
iDg the violence of hia Proteataut eubjectn, even
when they knew nothing of thi« projected league
with Papists against a Pmlestaiit people, might
bmUj divine ahat would be their fnry when the
scheme should be broached and carried into ope-
ration. It appears to bare been this considera-
tliju that induced him to hedtate in r&tifjdng
the agreement which he had allowed his ministflr
to sign. Thereupon Philip, of course, considered
himself freed from the promisee he had made
oODceming the Palatine. A few months after,
Charles went into a project the very reverse of
that he had recently ent«rtaiDed, Flandeie and
Brabant, which remained to Spain and the pope
after so many jean of sanguinary warfare, had
become the ecene* of discontent; or, at least, a
certun party bad conceived the notion of erect-
ing them into independent state*. The King of
fkigland forthwith despatched to them Sir Bal-
tiiaxar Qerbier, a native of Antwerp, a good
painter, a distinguished critic in the fine arts, an
excellent penman, and a very accomplished man
of businesB or intrigue, who had passed from the
service of Buckingham into that of Cliarles. On
the 14th of August,' 1632, Gerbier, writing from
Brussels, informed his employer that those states,
perceiving that the Spauiards were no longer
able to defend them and their religion, were de-
termined to make themselves free states, drive
out the Spaniards, contmct alliances with their
neighbours, and conclude a pe&ce with the Hol-
landers. The infanta and the Spanish council,
he said, were already greatly alarmed and on the
alert, for they had received adverUsements from
England, that those states were resolved to shake
off the Spaniards and make themselves free.
"The infanta," continues Gerbier, "showed the
said letters to Sir Peter Jtubeiu, who told me that
they bore such information as would hazard the
lives of many in these countries." The French
had been already in tliiii field of intrigue, offer-
ing assistance ; for it was an idea among them at
least as old as the time of Henry IV., if not of
Louis XL, that the Rhine was the proper and
natural boundary of their fine kingdom, and no-
body better undersUxid how to work by indirect
means than Cardinal Richelieu. The party with
whom Gerbier was intriguing in Flanders and
Brabsst, indeed, suspected that the French aimed
at a conquest, nor were they less suapidous of
the intentions of their neighbours the Holland-
ers, who also had offered them aeaiatauce. These
particnlan, Gerbier says, were communicated to
him by a person in disguise, who had chosen an

1 Fnm KK ■lliKtDH In thli littsr lo ■ pnTtoia dHpalcb. it
nonlli of J uM.-^lbii'Uwich San Pafn.

[CiTII, iMO MlUTAHT.

hour in the night for the dangerous oonference,
and who had the appearance of being a man of
high rank. "He spoke to me," continues 4he
secret agent, "as in the name of a whole body
which aimed to be supported bj an alliance with
England, to counterbalance France, who, instead
of a confederacy, prepared means to bring these
pivviucea into subjection; which to prevent, the
support of ^gland was conceived to be the
strongest remedy, and therefore it was desired I
should procure, under your majesty's hand and
seat, power to hear (under profound secret) wbat
was so considerable ; that, showing my authorisa-
tion, and engaging my word for secrecy, I might
know not only the party, but be sure it was no
French." The party, however, were no patriotn,
for one of the first of their jMvposals waa to ob-
tain for themselves English court distinctions —
ribbons and garters.* " I was very attentive,"
sajB Qerbier, "unto this disconrae, my mind still
fixed on the proverb, Diffidentia etf mater pru-
dentix, not being certain bnt that this person
might be sent on purposely to aonnd me, if Fkig-
land waa desirous of the subveruon of the Span-
ish government. Wherefore my first answer was
with admiration, feigning not well at first to com-
prehend their design, and with much difficulty
these high resolutions, less their success ; consid-
ered the troubles past and present amongst them,
intimating thereby that I lived not here to forge
factions; but that, withal, England ought to be
accounted as their best and most considerable
neighbourhood, both for its situation, strength by
sea, commerce, and affection of the people, who
have alvrays lived in good intelligence with these
countries, being from France whence all the aliis
proceed, as the histories do bear record. The
said person promised then that, upon the procur-
ing of my authorixatjon, he would make known
himself, desiring that no time might be lost . . .
And seeing the lives of great persons might ran
hazard by the discovery of these designs, I find
myself bound in charity and loyalty not to com-
municate them any further than to your majesty,
who may impart them unto your [vudent coun-
cil, as in your royal wisdom shall be thoi^t
fitting, it being the request made by the secret
party. Your majesty may be pleased to weigh
the glory which will redound unto your majesty
from this alliance, which, excluding the Spauiards
for ever from tiiia part of the world, will aerve
as an assured rampart to other countries, neigh-
bours, and allies of your majesty, and free them
from any change or invasion.* Gerbier went
on to give the king more particulars tonchiug
"the great business," telling him how cautious
he had been to prevent all subject of suspicion in
the King of Spain's ministers, and how he had
- Gaitlw'i MIu to Cbsrii^ Id ^ndrich SM( f s^in.

»Google

A ». 1629—

CHARLES 1.

415

been continually praMed by the person in di^pise
to know whether they could count upon Chariee'e
usisttuice. Chu'leB immedititely rephed by let-
ter, written teeretli/, and all in Am own hattd. The
buainesB, he Bitid, was so great that, merely to
nuuiaKe it, he wm forced to trust somebody, but,
OS secrecy was especially neceaaary, he hod only
trusted Secretary Coke. He told Gerbier that,
as he waa in peace and friendship with the King
of Spain, it would be against both h<»iour and
conscience if, without any juat cause or quarrel,
be debauched hia subjecta from their allegiance.
"But," continued the king, "aince 1 see a likeli-
hood (almost a necessity) that his Flanders sub-
jects must fall into some other king's or state's
protection, and that I am offered, without the
least iutimatiou of mine, to have a share therein,
the second consideration is,that it were a great im-
prudence in me to let slip this occasion, whereby
I may both advantage myself and hinder the
overflowing greatneae of my neighboiira." He
was willing, he said, to take the protection of
these people into his hands, na they flew to him
without his seeking : if he did not protect them
others would; and the King of Sjiain, instead of
being offended, ought to be pleased; tor if he,
Charles, did not interfere, theu the States would
fall into the hands of Philip's enemies or rebels,
"And therefore," continued the royal caauist,
" upon great consideration I have sent yon power
to treat with these disguised persons, and do
hereby authorize you to promise them, in my
name, protection against anybody but the King
of Spain, and to defend them from him and all
the world else from injuries." Thie letter, with
a commission to Gerbier, was inclosed in a de-
spatch writt«n by Secretaiy Coke, who told the
agent that the oommiasion was as full as could be
expected, secrecy not now permitting more for-
malities. " Your iDstructiona," said the secre-
tary, " will be made more particular and full
when the parties discover themselves, and when
you send word viat thti/ offer and what they re-
quire." On the 24th of September, SecretaryCoke
wrote again to instruct him bow to convince the
Catholic states of Flanders and Biabant that
France was not lo be thought of, and that Eng-
land was their surest refuge, which would beat
agree both with their eccleeiaatical and temporal
estates, "both which," coutinnes the secretary,
running in aearch of arguments to prove how
nicely and nearly the Anglican church could
agree with the Soman, "you must endeavour to
penuade to be of the same ; for their churchmen,
you say, are the most active for tliia change, and,
if it had not been for the scandal of religion, tliey
would have expressed themaelves for a treaty
with England before others. , . . Yet England,
in respect of religiou, is far more proper for them

to join withal than the Seven United Provinces
can be." Having arranged for the clergy, who
were to be raised from the lowly ooodition of
Presbyterian pastors depending on the voluntary
cootrilmtions of their flocks, into richly-endowed
and high-titled Episcopal dignitaries. Secretary
Coke, who, no doubt, wrote under the dictation
of Charles, proceeded to deal with the nobility,
bidding Gerbier to declare to them at large, and
on all occasions, how much better it would beffn"
them to adhM« to a potent king like the King of
England than to a popular and factious govern-
ment like that of the Hollanders. "Amongst
(AoM boon,' continues the secretary, " where all
are eqnal and capable of the highest places, their
houoors and degrees can have no pre-eminence,
but be subject to the affi^mts of the baser sort,
without civility or respect, which noble minda
cannot endure." From the nobility he passed to
the merchants and base traders, and from these
to the native soldiery, tellingOerbier how to deal
with these classes in order to draw them to the
king's interest. This underhand negotiation was
prolonged through many months, the King of
England wishing the conspirators to declare their
country independent, and the conspirators wish-
ing him to give them something more than gen-
eral and vague promises. At laat the Spanish
court, which had some clue to the secret corre-
spondence from the banning, discovered the
whole,' and reinforced its army in Flanders and
Brabant; and thereupon the plot fell to the
ground. If such proceedings had t&ken place be-
tween private individuals, no one would hesitate
as to the proper epithet to be applied to timn;
but they had been so common between kings and
governments, that we think Charles's conduct on
this occasion has been censured with undue se-
verity. He acted precisely as the great Elizabeth
had done; and even at a much later and morally
better age, Sngliab statesmen would not have
hesitated lo do as much in the same dai^ man-
ner to counteract the Intrigues of other states,
and more especially to prevent the French from
making themselves masters of the Ijow Conn-
Charles now concluded, or rather renewed, a
treaty with Gustavus Adolphna, and undertook
to send 6000 men to join that victorious sovereign
in the heart of Germany. But, as there was no
declaration of war with the emperor, he thought
it proper and delicate to make it appear as if
this force waa raised in Scotland by the Marquis
of Hamilton on his own account, and without
the king's knowledge. When Hamilton was get-
ting ready, Donald, Lord Beay, and Major Borth-
wick accused the marquis of raising troops to

U Hidiiil. wuucaHd

»Google

416

HISTOKY OF ENGLAND.

[C.v

D MlLlTABT.

nsurp the crown of Scotland. Hamilton em-
barked with hia little army — "but bo little care
was taken ol provisionB and occommodatious for
Ilia men that they were brought into a sick and
shattered conditiou, so that they mouldered away
iu a short time; and the marquis was forced to
retnm to England without gaining any grent
renown by this action, wbereiti he neither did
Rcrvice to the Kiug of Sweden nor to himself, or
to the Protestant cause in Germany.''' Wlieo
Hamilton returned, Charles received him into as
great favour and trust as ever.

We cannot condense half of the circuntstances
which occurred at home lietweeu the dissolution
of the parliament of 1639 and the calling that of
1640 — circumstances which discontented the mass
of the English people, and wliich gave zeal to Che
timid or lukewarm — fury to the zealots. We shall,
howevei", try to explain, in as few words as pos-
sible, the most important of these provocations.
Iu contempt of the Petition of Right, the king
persisted iu levying tonnage and jmundage, even
augmenting the ratea on sundry kinds of goods,
and ordering that the goodn of such as refused
payment slioul'l he instantly seized and sold.
The commons had denounce*! the man as a trai-
tor that should pay these illegal taxe^. And, at
tlie same time tliat Charles thua availed himself
of the resources of modern commerce, he arbitra-
rily revived certain feudal uses or abuses. Henry
III. and Edward L, when their poverty obscured
their chivalry, had iiitroduced the practice of
summoning their military tenants, worth £20
per annum, to receive at their hands the coatly
lionour of knighthood : many declined this huU'
oiir, and were allowed to compound by paying
a moderate fine. Elizabeth and James had both
availed themselves of this ancient prerogative;
and the change iu the value of money rendered
it more oppressive than formerly, though only
)>ersoni esteemed wortli .£40 per annum wen
now subjected to it. InmanyinBtances,in James'i
time, the sheriffs purposely neglected to servi
these writs, and many persons, when they wer
served took no notice of them ; but now (.'harles
appointed a regular commission to attend solely
to this rexatiouR method of raising money; and
these commissioners called upon all landed pro-
prietors, rated at .£40, to pay their fines for not
being knighted. When any resistance was offered,
the parties were dragged into the expensive law
conrts, and there invariably cast, and forced
pay, or thrown into prison. Nor was there any
Kxed rule or rate; for, when any man was
known Puritan or Precisian, or otherwise ob-
noxious to the conrt, he was made to pay a great
deal more than another. Nor was the practice
limited to those who were liable as military or feu-

dal tenants; lessees who held no land by any such
tenure, merchants whose fortunes had risen from
bales of goods, and not from tha sword or lance,
called upon to pay, were prosecuted and
persecuted. It ia said that £100,000 were thus
screwed and squeezed out of the subject ; and
the kiug preferred this method to meeting and
agreeing with the House of Commons. The most
intolerable suffeiiugs of the jieople had arisen in
the old time from the atrocious game or forest
laws. This bloody and disgraceful code had been
allowed in good iMirt to drop into desuetude, but
Charles resolved to revive at least all such parts
of it as might tend to the increase of his revenue.
The Earl of Holland was appointed to hold a
court for the recovei-y of the king's forestal rights,
Dr those lands which bad once belonged <o the
[■oyal chases. In this manner people were driven
from many tracts which they and their fathera
had long occupied as their own ; gentlemen's
estates were encroached upon, and, as he king
was the litigant, the opposite party, even if he
gained his cause, which in such circumstances he
had but slight chance of doing, was distressed or
mined by the coats of the action, which he had
pay whether lie was the loser or the winner.
Tlie Earl of Southampton was reduced almost to
poverty by a decision which deprived him of his
estate adjoining the New Fnrest in Hampshire.
issei the myal forests grew so large tiiat
people said they had swallowed up the whole
county. Rockingham Forest was increased from
circuit of tix miles to one of sixty miles, and
all trespassers were punished by the imposition
lormona fiueti. " Which burden," says Cla-
rendon, "lighted most upon jiersons of quality
and honour, who thought themaelves above ordi-
nary oppressions, and were therefora like to re-
member it with more sharpness.'' To enlarge
Richmond Park, Cliarles deprived many proprie-
tors, not merely of their rights of common, but
also of their freehold lands. It should appear
that he afterwards gave some compensation; but
the act at first had in it all the worat features of
a cruel and plundering despotism. The House
of Commons had scarcely rendered a service more
important to the nation than by insisting on the
suppression of monopolies : but now the king
b^an to revive those abuses also ; and, for the sum
of £10,000, which they paid for theirpatent, and
for a duty of £8 sterling upon every ton of soap
they should make, which they promised to pay
the king without vote of parliament, lie chartered
a company with exclusive privileges to make
soap. These incorporated soap-boilers, as a part
of their bargain, received powers to appoint
searchers, and theyexercisedasnrt of inquisition
over the trade. Such dealers as reniated their

' jnaani VU( jtibUwH.

»Google

A.D. 1629—1638.] CHAR

Interference, or tried to make soap on their own
account, were banded over to the tender mercteB
of the Star Chamber. This precedent was fol-
lowed in the erection of a aimilar cotnpanj of
fitarch-mftkers, and in a great variety of other
grants, till moDopoliea, in transgression or eva-
eion of the late statute, became as common as
they hod been under James and Elizabeth.' And
no less uujiiBt proceedings of other kinds, some
of them ridiculous, some scandalous, all very
grievous, were set on foot; the envy and reproach
of which (we should eajjastlj/) fell to the king,
the profit to other men — for the exjense of col-
lection was enormous, and only a small portion
of the money ever reached the royai coffers.^
Proclamations, which James had carried to such
excess, and which had been branded by parlia-
ment, were agiun brought into play, and arbi-
trary fines were exacted from such as disobeyed
tliese proolomations, which were in themselves
illegal The late British Solomon had decided
in his wisdom that the plague and other great
mischiefs were solely owing to the excessive and
constantly increasing size of London, and he had
proclaimed over and over again that people must
not be so wicked and so foolhardy as to build
any more houses in the metropolis. But his
proclamations were diareganled — the judges had
declared them not to be according to law; and
the Londoners had gone on building faater than
ever. Charles, who was more steady in wrong
proceedings than his father, appointed acommia-
sion to examine into this growth and increase, and
to make money of those who had built the new
houses. Ill general the latter got off by paying
a fine equivalent to three years' estimated rent
of their houses, and an annual tax to the crown-,
but in some instances the houaes were knocked
down, and the owners made to pay a penalty,
beudea suffering this destruction of their pro-
perty.'

And, as if all these were not sufficient causes
of disgust and irritation, there were the galling
and high-handed proceedings of the earl-mar-
shol's court, which will be described more parti-
cularly hereafter. . But what more than any-
thing heaped fuel on the doomed head of the
king wos the conduct of the High Church party,
led on by Laud. This bishop is allowed, by one
of his warmest admirers, to have been a zealot ii
his heart, " of too warm blood and too positive i
nature;" but he followed the course of Arch

■ ForifiilLlUtof ttiHBnDncppnUH.HtJFyuifJ'. sndtbflnipQrtJi
of Kw datailw of th* Lonl Parlianwnt,

' CUi*i*kHi mft. that or tiOO.im, ilMwii (tan tha mbje
bx Kick n/^ III ■ 7«r, tan* tISDO ani* to Ika Uu^'b iih

• RinhwortU gi™ maranl ino«i irbftnur luooeiicUiiji In I
Bur Chuilw igiitnn niiin ir1in hul buJIt hoiuH lu natnri

• Sir PUnp Warwick*! Uwoln.

Vol. II,

I. 417

bishop Bancroft, and was an emphatic flatterer
of the king. When in the month of May, 1630,
Henrietta Maria gave birth to a prince, after-
wards that godly kingCharles II., Laud baptized

the infant, and composed a prayer upon the oc-
n, in which was the petition — "Double bis
father's graces, 0 Lord ! upon him, if it he poati-
' !«." Bishop Williams, the ex-lord- keeper, now
I disgrace, and almost a patriot, forgetting his
wn performances in former times, called this
three-piled flattery and loathsome divinity."
A few months after composing this prayer, Laud
called before him, in the Star Chamber, Alex-
ander Leighton, a Scotchman and a Puritan
preacher, for writing against the queen and the
bishops in a book, entitled, ^n^^^ea^foMe/'ar-
liameni, or Sion'i Plea agaiiM Prdaci/. The
of the book was disrespectful and fanatic,
we lose sight of iu demerits in the atrocious
punishment of the author, who vainly }>leade<],
the Star Chamber, that he had offended
through zeal, and not through any personal
X. He was degra<led from the ministry,
pubiicly whipped in Palace Yard, placed in the .
pillory for two hours, had an ear cut off, a nostril
slit, and was branded cm one of his cheeks with
the letters 8. 8., for "Sower of Sedition." After
these detestable operations he was sent back to
his prison; but, at the end of one diort week,
before his wounds were healed, he was again
dragged forth to public whipping, the pillory,
the kuife, and the bmud; and after he had l^eeu
deprived of his other ear, split in the otiier nos-
tril, and burned on the other cheek, he was thrust
back into his dungeon, there to lie for life. After
years, indeed, Leighton regained his liberty;
but it was by the mercy neither of Laud nor
Charles, but throujjh that parliament which de-
itroyed alike the bishop and the king.*

Blind to the almost inevitable consequences of
persecution. Laud neglect«d do opportunity of
enforcing conformity. By his advice Cliarleshad
issued a proclamation forbidding all preachers
to condemn ArminianiHm or to enter upon that
controvei'sy. Though not yet the chief of the
Anglican church, tor old Abbot, the Archbisiiop
of Canterbury, was alill living, laud wielded or
directed all its thunders. In consequence of the
increasing severities of his ghostly rule, the Puri-
tans now began to emigrate in large nnrobera to
North America, preferring a wilderness with re-
ligious liberty to their native country without it.
The pilgrim fathers chiefly settled in New Eng-
land. Those who remained at home were shai^

• "Th* HTrn irani.hBi.nt of tht. nnfirtiiimM gsutlamu
minj vnpl* pitlnl. ha bnlnf a psnon w*lt known lioth tet
laamiiiEana othar abUltln; otitr hia nnbrmiieral lal m hi*

»Google

418

HISTORY OF ENGLANU

[CiVlLA

i MlLITABT.

eneil anil eml>itt*re<l by perBeciition, and by the
whole t«ue and manuer of Charles's court, which,
he it Mud, though moral, or at least decent, com-
pared Willi that of James, waa ttar from being so
pure and exemplary as it haa been described by
certwn writers," Being pretty well shut out
from the pulpit, and hunted down in their con-
venticles—having no other valve through which
to let off their mrified feelings— they had re-
conrse to the shackled press. In Hilary term,
1634, by which time I«ud waa primate, Mr.
William Prynne, a barrister of Lincoln's lun,

WiLLUH Pan»

-Fron ■ piiDl b; Hollir,

was brought into the Star Chamber, together
with Michael Sparkes, "a common publisher of
unlawful and uuliceuaed books," William Buck-
mer, and four other defendants, upon informa-
tions Sled by the Attorney-general Noye.' The
offence charged was, that Mr. Prynne, about the
eighth year of Charles's reign (being the current
year), had compiled and put in print a libellous
volume, entitled by the name of Hittrio-Mcutix;
tha Playti't Scourge, or Aetor't Tragtdit; which
waa directed against all plays, masks, dances,
masquerades, &c. "And although he knew well
that his majesty's royal queen, die lords of the

' Tlie IMUn af Ounid ukI of Ci
rtpimfUnn, wtnml of tba 0DDt4mpam7
flmloiial pMtQgf* jutd hhiU In Clamhdon'i
•nrfc, will rullr bHU out Dnr aUtgniHit
7hvl«i ouurtr TJw woidi of Lord

f, In tha Simfftrd O

council, 4c., were, in their public festivals, often-
present spectators of some masks and
dances, and many recreations that were tolerable
n themselves sinless, and so declared to be
by a book printed in the time of his majesty's
royal father; yet Mr. Prynne, in his book, had
railed not only against stage-plays, comedies,
dancings, and alt other eiercises of the people,
Hud agunst all snch as frequent or behold them;
but further in particular, agiunst hunting, public
festivals, Christmas keeping, bonfires, and may-
pules; nay, even against the dressing np of honses
with green ivy," He was also accused of di-
rectly casting aspersions upon her majesty the
queen, and oif stirring np the people to discon-
tent against his majesty the king, whom be had
treated with " terms unSt for so sacivd a person.*
The fact waa that Prynne waa a learned ascetic,
who conscientionsly believed that plays, and
masks, and other sports, in which the queen
and court indulged to eiceas, were unlawful to
Christians; and he particularly attempted to de-
monstrate, in his book of a thtnuand pagtt, that
" by divers arguments and by the authority of
sundry teits of Scripture — of the whole primitive
chnrch — of fifty-five synods and councils — of
seventy-one fathers and Christian writers before
the year of our Lord 1200— of above 150 foreign
and domestic Protestant and Popish authon
forty heathen philosophers, Ac.^and of
English statutes, magistrates, univer-
sities, writera, preachen — that popular stage-
plays are sinful, lewd, ungodly spectacles, and
most pemicions corruptions." Againstmasksand
dancing (the last a dangerous thing to touch when
ewas a FYench queen on the throne) Prynne
equally severe. But the whole tenor of the
book, according to Noye, was not less against the
orthodox Church of England, than against their
sacred majesties. " The music in the church,"
sud the attorney-general, " the charitable term
he giveth it is, not to be a noise of men, but
rather a bleating of brute beasts : choristers bel-
low the tenor as it were oxen, bark a counter-
point as a kennel of dogs, roar out a treble like a
sort of bulls, grunt out a basa as it were a num-
ber of hogs.' lAndwasalso incensed at Frynne's
bestowing some praise upon the factious book of
Dr. Leigfaton. Prynne's book had been written
four yeara ago, and the greater part of it had
been printed, if not published, two years ago;
but it happened that, at the moment it was
mentioned to th»kingby the bishop, Henrietta
Maria was rehearsing a part which she shortly
afterwards acted in a play or pastors! with her
maids of honour.' Hence every abusive term

I >"ThU wUcli tbaqDHn'oiniOinj. KiBHariHr l*dln.ud
■II bar nuidi at hanmr. m nmr pneUiing npon. la ■ Foatonl
pansad bf Ur. Wallar Uonllfna, whatafB her uaJ*^ !• plaaaad

,v Google

A.D. 1629— 1G35.]

WM held to be directed agsinat her majeBtj.
Charles waa greatly exasperated, but it ia said
that he would hare let Uie matter drop, and the
author go unpunished, if it had not been for the
activity of luad and his chaplains. In mention-
ing that the tribunal wa« the Star Chamber, we
have suffidently indicated that Frfnae'a sentence
must be atrocious. " For the book," said the
Lord Chief-justice Richardwn (encouraged into
eloquence hy the approving nods of I^ud, who
was present during the whole trial, as he gene-
rally was at all the most important ur most srbi-
tarj SUr Chamber prosecutions), ''for the book,
I do hold it a most scandalous, infamous libel to
the king's mnjeaty, a most pious and religious
king; to the queen's majesty, a most excellent
and gracious queen (he oovld not praite her rtli-
ffion becaiue the vat a StmiaH CatAolie), such a
one as this kingdom never enjoyed the like, and
I think the earth never had a better. It is ecan-
dalous to all the honourable lords and the king-
dom itself, and to all sorts of people. I say eye
never saw, nor ear ever heard of such a scanda-
lous and seditions thing as this mis-shapen mon-
ster is. ... . Yet give me leave to read a word
or two of it, where he oometb to tell the reasons
why he writ this book r^because he saw the
number of plays, play-books, play-hauuteis, and
play-hoases so exceedingly increased, theie being
above 40,000 play-books, being now more vendi-
ble than the choicest senuona Whatsnithhein
bis epistle dedicatory, Hpeaking of play-booksl—
They bear so big a price, and are printed ou far
better paper, than moet octavo and quarto Bibles,
which hardly find so good a vent as they; and
then come in such abundance, as they exceed all
Dumber, and 'tis a year's time to peruse them
over, they are so multiplied ; and then he putleth
io the margin Beu Jouaon, &c., printed in better
paper than most Bibles. . . . Stage-players, &c.,
saith he, none are gainers and honoured by them
but the devil and hell; and when they have taken
tlieir wills in lust here, their souls go to eternal
torment hereafter. And this must be the end of
this monster's horrible sentence. He saith, so
many as are in play-houses are so many unclean
spirits: and that play-bauntera are little better
Uum incarnate devils. He doth not only con-
demn all play-writera, but all protectors of them,
aud all beholding of them; and dancing at plays,
and singing at plays, they are all damned and

tosclaipuf, u wall 'far bar ncnMiori f

CHAKLES I.

419

to air 1

>riD(, Ij

u or Hlcbiel Spukcih t>w prJoUt
■jmM'm hook, Coltlngton hul luil. '■ I do Hua Sparka tHW
la king, khI to iUikI In Uia plllotjr. witAoKt loithin^ of Aii
with A papar on lilA liaad to d«lftn hit offSt»a. And Jt li
I iiftif aij' lb tlMH (Imvi; arul fv tM ^\&6rv t9 it n Ptitit'9

not less than to hell. I beseech your lordships,
but in a word, to give me leave to read unto you
what he writes of dancing. It is the devil's pro-
fession, and he that entereth into a dance enter-
eth into a devilish profession; and so many paces
in a dance, so many paces to hell." All this was
Puritanism run mad — the being righteous over-
much, at the expense of the lightest and bright-
est enjoymentaof all ages and all climes; but how
it could be made sedition, sod almost high trea-
son, we know not, unless it were by connecting
it with the fact — which was not done opeiily -
that the queen was a great dancer, and by hold-
ing it to be seditions and treasonable to hint that
a queen could go to the place bo often mentioned
by the lord chief-justice. This high fuuctionary,
however, went on to makeont his case upon other
grounds. " He writeth thus : that Nero's acting
and frequenting plays was the chiefest cause thnt

stirred up others to conspire his death

Aud, in another place, that Tribelliua Pnllio ru-
latea that Uarlian, Heraclius, and Claudius,
three worthy Romans, conspired together to mur-
der QsJlienuB, the emperor, a man much besotted
and taken up with plays, to which he likewise
drew the msgistrates aud people by his lewd ex-

nmple Now, my lords, that they should

be called three worthy persons that do couspira
an emperor's death, though a wicked emperor, it
is no Christian expression. If subjects have an
ill prince, marrj', what is the remedyl They
must pray to Uod to forgive him, and not say
theyare worthy subjects that do kill him." Aftei-
aundi7 invectives, which the prisoner heard,
standing behind that otiier fierce persecutor of
the Puritans, Bishop Neile, the lord chief-justice
concluded ; — " Mr. Prynne, I must now i^me to
my sentence ; though I luu very sorry, for I have
known you long; but now I must utterly forsake
you, for I find that you have forsaken God, his
religion, and your allegiance, obedience, and hon-
our, which you owe to both tlieir excellent ma-
jesties, the rule of charity to all noble ladies anil
peraous in the kingdom, and forsaken all good-
ness. Thevefore, Mr. Prynne, I shall proceed lu
my censure, wherein I agree with my Lord Cut-
tiiiglon : — First, for the burning of yotir book iu
as di^(raceful a manner as may be, whether in
Cheapside or Panl's Churchyard; for though
Paul's Churchyard be a eoiuecrated place, yet
heretical books have been burned in that place.'

CkurdiiKird." Hon Luid bhl ajiclviiuiid, eriduitlj to tl4

Thia talking of nniaonUil plwca vH nthar atw to tlie
KngUab Ptolstuita ; but I.uul uia now uamnanlaiuly nnaa
ehy^"'^ Ad., to tlia borniT of tlia Piiritana.

kibccnl

d, lint blood •iBtplK in Bl Piolat

,v Google

420

HISTOBY OF EXGLAND.

And because Mr. Pryiine is of Lincoln's fnn, nnii
tliat liJB profeesion may not snstain disgrace bj
liis piiDiahnient, I <lo think it St, with my Lord
Cottington, that he be put from the bar and
degraded in the nuirersity; and I leave it to laj
lords the Inrd-bisiiojis to see that dune ; and for
the pillory, I hold il just and equal, though there
trere no statute for it. In the case of a high
crime it may be done by the discretion of the
coiirt;soldoaffreet«thattoo. I fine him £5000;
.ind I know he is as well able to pay £.1000 as one-
half of i!l'H)0; and perpetual impriaonment I do
think fit for liim, and to be restrained from writ-
ing—neither to have pen, ink, nor paper ; yet
let liim have some pretty jirayer-book, to pray to
God to foi'give him his sins; but to write, in good
faith, I would never have him : for Mr. Prywne,
I do judge you by your book to be an inMilent
spirit, and one that did think by this bonk to
have gilt the name of a Reformer, to set up the
Puritan or Seiwratist faction." Mr. Secretary
Coke next fell upon the condemned prisoner, be-
ginning with an iinquentionable truth. "By this
vast book,*Biud the secretary, "it appeareth that
Mr. Prynne hatli rend more than he hath studied,
and studied more than considered, whereas if he
had rea<l but one sentence of Solomon, it had
Mived him from this danger. The preacher saith,
Be not over jnst nor wake thyself over wise, for
why wilt thou destroy thyself (" Coke then
proceeiled to show the necessity of mildness and
toleration to the vices of society, quoting Scrip-
ture again and again, but in rather an awkwnrd
manner, considering the monstrous intolerance
which the court had shown to the prisoner. He
insisted [larticularly that every man wan not a
fit reprehender of folly and vice — that Mr,
Prynne had no invitation, no office, no iiUertt to
make himself a censor. But everything hitherto
aaid was milk and honey compareil to the gall
jxiured forth by the noble Earl of Dorset. After
complaining of the sivarms of raurainrers and
mutineers not fit to breathe, he exclaimed, " My
lords, it is time to make illustration to purge the
air. And when will justice ever bring a moi-e
fit oblation than this Achan I Adam, it) the be-
ginning, ]int nxmes on creatures correK|>ondent
to their natures. The title if hath given this
book is llittrio-MtiitiT, or rather, as Mr. Secre-
tary Coke oljserved, Anihropo-l^fulir; but that
comes not home^it deserves a far higher title,
DamiuUinn, in plwn English, of Prinze, Pretaci/,

Pfcri, People My lords, when Ood hud

made all his works, he looked upon them and
saw that they were gooil. This gentleman, the

yunl- Th* hoirtil nacutloii nf the pinpowilvr nnupiniton,
Uighj'. Ruhirt WinUr. Orniit, Bat«, ThomM WlnWt, Reok-
irood, KoToh •ml Ouldn Fawkia, hul bHD parfonivd at " Uh
val «ihl irf tit. Pftul'i Ctauchjranl-'^

devil having put spectacles on bis nose, says that

tion good ; neither sex, magistrate, ordinance,
custom Divine or human; things animate and in-
animate, all, my lords, wrapped up in nuuia dant-
nolo- — all in the ditch of destmction.' In some
respects this was a just criticism of Prynne's
book ; but their lordships showed they could be
more abuuve than the Puritan. " Do you, Hr.
Prynne," said the Earl of Doreet, "find fault with
the court and courtiers' habits, with ailk and
satin divines! I must say of you, you are all
pnrple within — all pride, malice, and all disloy-
alty; you are like a tumbler, who is commonly
squint-eyed, who look one way and run another
way; though yoti seemed, by the title of your
hook, to scourge stage-plays, yet it was to make
people believe that there was an apostasy in the
magistrates ; but .... when did ever church so
Kourish, and state letter prosper T The courtier,
who was an adept at long speeches, proceeded to
draw an oratorical eulogiitm of the immeasurable
virtues of Henrietta Maria. Nay, in the swinj;
of his eloquence, he did not scruple to praise her
reli^on, saying that her zeal in the ways of God
was unparalleled, and if all its saints wem as
she, the Boman church was not to be condemned.
Going even farther than this, he apoke as if he
were piivy to what passed between the queen
and her confessor. " On my conscience," aaid
he, " she troubleth her ghontly father with no-
thing, but that she hath nothing to trouble him
withal." But then, changing this gentle tone,
the nolile Dorset again aildi-essed the Puritan
in the following words, which should be remem-
bered whenever the reader is startled by the
denunciations of the religions party t^" Mr.
Prynne, I do declare you to be a scliism-maker
in the church, a sedition-sower in the common-
wealth, a wolf in sheep's clothing, in a word,
ommum tnalorum tuquiaimiu. I shall fine him
£10,000, which is more than he is worth, yet
less than he deserveth ; I will not set him at
liberty, no more than a plagued man or a mad
dog, who, though he cannot bite, he will foam ;
he is so far from being a social soul that he is
not a rational soul; he is fit to live in dens with
such beasts of prey as wolvea and tigers like
himself: therefore I do condemn him to perpe-
tual imprisonment as those moniiters that are no
longer fitto live amongmen, nor see light. Now.
for corporal jiunishment, my lords, I should hum
him in the forehead and slit him in the none, for
I find that it ts eonfesned of all that Dr. Leigh-
ton's offence was less than Air. Prynne's; then
why should Mr. Prynne have a less punishment?
He that was guilty of murder was marked in a
place where he might be seen, as Cain waa. 1
should be loath he should ew&pe with his ean,

»Google

.A.D. 162ft— 1638.] CHAF

for he may get a periwig, which he now ao rauch
inveighs against, and so hide them, or force his
conscience to make use ot hia unlovely love-locka
on both sides. Therefore I wonid have him
branded on the forehead, slit in the noee, and liia
ears cropped too."' The infamous sentence was
executed with the additional barbarities proposed
liy the noble and gallant Earl of Dorset.

Between the first arrest and the punishment of
Prjnne, Chiu-leH had uuule a magnificent journey
into Scotland, where the people, too forgetful of
the effects of the last royal visit they had received
from James, hail been complainuig of neglect — as
if the king thought Che ancient crown of Scotland
not wcrth his journey thither. Charles was at-
tended in this journey by lAud, it being a prin-
cipal object with him to force the Liturgy, with
all the innovations in the Anglican church pro-
posed, or about to he proposed, by his favourite
bishop, upon his Scottish subjects. The Scots
received him with great demonsti-ationa of Joy;
many of the nobility ruined themselves by
feasting and entertaining his numerous court;
and on the 18th of June, 1633, Charles was
crowned at Edinburgh. The ceramoiiy was per-
formed, ax of right, by the Archbishop of St.
Aodrewa ; but there were several circumstanceB
in it which gave offence to the people. lAud, for
example, rudely jostled and dinplaced Che Arch-
bishop of Glasgow, who was 8t^.(ndiDg by the
king's side, because that prelate had sci'upled to
officiate in the embroidered habits— very like the
robes of the Roman hierarchy —which the Eng-
lish bishop had prescribed.' The introduction of
a high altar, tapers, chalices, and genuflections,
recalled the memory of the old religion, and the
oil, and the unction, and other parts of the per-
formance, all savoured to the majority of the
Scots of the rankest idolatry.* Tlie coronalioii
was succeeded 1^ a parliament— stratagem hav-
ing been employed to secnre the election of such
liinls of the articles as were noteil tor their
entire and tmscnipulous devotion to the royal
will. They voted Buppliea with unprecedented
liberality and promptitude. A land-tax of
.£400,(KI0 Scotch, and the sixteenth penny of legal
interest, were granted for mx years. The liar-

b* raiTt churacWr it giMtat length : hut, though eulogutk.
hs vlnlemc, dinip«tl(in, (nd uthit tIri of tha mm, tUm
himgb Hit hi> rhrtoriMl viniWi. Sonie jwtm htlon tblfc
kmsl, th« tiir Edmrd Sukiills, •Igulltfd blnwlf by a

noblvmia of Sootland. Ihs Lord flnie*, upon which thij hoi
IiUHportal thniiHlvei Into Flmidtn, and, atbrndad oa]j I
two •DTSKKi*. plimd It I, diUann, niiil nnder sn obligKllon m

LES I. 421

mony of the parliament was first disturbed by a
question about the attire of the clergy; lAud and
the king having made up their minds that t)ie
Scottish minister should wear precisely tlie same
gjirments as their English brethren. The sub-
ject seemed one of awful importance to many of
the Scotch; and it was not trivial if Uken in con-
nection with other ctrcnmstuncea and the temper
of the government. It Charles, by his arbitrtn-y
will, should impose the embroidered cope and the
white surplice — which the people abominated as
vestiges of Pi^istry — he might, by a like pro-
cess, interfere with the most important rights
and privileges of the nation. Silence now would
assuredly be taken aa a tacit submijraion to fur-
ther encroachments. But the Scottish lords were
uot disposed to be silent. The aged Lord MeU
vi lie, addressing himself to Charles, exclaimed,
" I have Bwoi-u with your father and the whole
kingdom to the Cun/eeiion of Pailk, in which
tiie innovations intended by these articles were
solemnly abjured." Charles was disconcerted
and confounded by this bold remark ; he rose,
and witlidrew to take council of himself and
others. But soon he returned, reposMSsed of his
authoritative tone; and when they resumed their
deliberations, he haughtily commanded them not
to debate, but to vote; and, refusing to separate
the questions which they were williug to approve,
from his copes and surplices, to which they ob-
jected, he produced a paper containing a list of
the members, and Mud, "Your names are here;
I shall know to-day who will do me service and
who will uot." The articles were rejected by
fifteen peers and forty-five commoners, making
a clear majority of the house; and yet the lord-
register impudently reported them as affirmed
by parliament. The Earl of Bothea boldly de-
clared that the votes were erroneoualy collected,
or falsely reported, and demandadaserutiny. If
Charles's conduct be correctly reported, it is de-
cisive in itself of his whole character and temper.
It is said that he stood np, and I'efused the scru-
tiny, nnlesa the Earl of Rothes would, at his
peril, take upon himself to arraign the lont-
regisler of the capital and treasonable crime of
falsitjing the votes — a proceeding which would

r. !U)— "And nil th< )W|>'> »<<3. <>«> "'<> >'»« Solomon."
I>nriiig tht eoconatlon " It »u ottKcvnl tbat Dr. Laad, thtn
Biihopot Loiulon, who Mtanded tlio klnf ibeing ■ ■<ning«';.
•u high in Ilia cHTriage, liking npoii him tbs order and lunig-

hahopof Bl. Andrtwa, l^ng plunl at the klng"ir1glit huod.
and LihdHf, than ARhbitbo]) of Gkugov, at tail IfTB, Hlabnp
Laud took (Jimigow, and (ianut him from tba kJDg, with thfiao

rth; SpaUinf! Btmui.

»Google

422

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil avd Military..

have involved the unBuccessful accuser in niiu;
aiid, from the tone of the kiog and the timidity
or Bubeervieuce of that pBrUameut, Rothes might
irell despair of eatabiiahiiig his nmusatiou, how-
ever just. He was Bilent;
the artiolea, though really
rejected by a majority, were
ratified in the Scottish man-
ner by the touch of the scep-
tre; and the parliament was
forthwith dia«>lved upon the
2Sth of June. Charles did
not venture upon his HUtgli^
practice of inpriaoniog re-
fractory members, but ho
studiously testified his high
displeasure agunst those
who had opposed hia will.
They were excluded from
a lavish dispensation of hon-
ours and promotions; were
received at court with re-
proaches or sullen silence;
were turned into ridicule; were set down as schis-
matic and seditious men. Having made Bisbop
Laud a privy counsellor of Scotland, and heard
bini preach in pontificalibui in the royal chapel
of Hnlyrood; having established "singing men"

ing journey to the queen at Greenwich, where lie
arrived after four days on the 20th of July.
LAud, who was not so good a traveller, followeil
him by slow stages, and reached his palace at

Lavc— Aft« V'iad}'k<

in tiie said chapel, and set up an episcopal see
at Edinburgh, with a diocese extending over an-
cient Lothian from the Forth to Berwick, and
with rich endowmeuU in old church lands, whieh
certain great nobles had, by a private and not
unprofitable bargaui, agreed to nurrender, for the
sake of eiample, to otherx; Charles made a post-

Ltl'D's ?«ACS AT FvLBAH.— Filknar*! BMarj of PnUiu

Fulham on the Seth. " On Sunday, August the
4th' (we use the prelate's own words) "newi
came to court of the Lord-archbishop of Canter-
bury's death, and the king resolved presently to
give it me, which he did, August 6th. Tliatvery
morning at Greenwich, there came one to lue
serioosly that vowed ability to perform it, anif
offered mo to be a cardinal. I went presently l»
the king, and acquainted him both with the thing
imd person." To be promised the primacyof the
Anglican church, and a cudinal'a hat from the
pope, upon one and the same day, was a combi-
nation of circumstances of a very eitraordinuy
kind! Underdateof Saturday, AugnstthelTth,
be says; " I had a serious offer mode me sgai"
to be a cardinal (Mm le^tu to prone thai he had
not refected the fira ofer in a very angry or dt-
cided manner); I was then from conrt, but aa
soon as I came thither (which was WedneadiJ,
August Slat) I acquainted his majesty with it;
but my answer again was, that tomtvkai dwelt
within me, which would not suffer that, till
Rome were other thau it is." At a later perioJ,
when the acoui^ed, mutilated, and maddenni
Puritanu were huuting laud to the scaffold, be
said, in alluding to this remarkable passage of
his life ; " His majesty, very prudently and re-
ligiously, yet in a calm way, tlie person offer-
ing it having relation to some ambaWdor, fre»l
me from that both trouble and danger."' Some
agent in the siuguiar trauBBCliou let out the se-
cret of the hat, the effect of which upon the Pu-
ritans ninv be cnnceiveii.' Aa he had alresilv

' TniMfiantl Tiinl of ArrbhMop Li,

»Google

A.u. 1629-1636] CHAB

led the National church »o far in iU way to Borne,
where would he stop short wheo he had become
a prince of the Hnl; See I H&ving definitel;
settled the buHinens of the cardinalate, lAud waa
formally installed in the archbinhoiiric of Can-
terbury on the 19th of September.

He went on fearlessly with his high-handed
proceedings in the church. But he bad not
waited for the primacy to begin these; for even
during old Abbot's life he had obtaiued the al'
most entire disposal of bishoprioH, and, as Bishop
of London, had introduced numerous changes into
the churches of his diocese, and the cathedral of
St. Paul's, wliich he began to rebuild and beau-
tify with money obtained, for the moat part, in
an irregidar aad oppressive maaner. According
to the doctrine of the majority of the English
preachers and of the Keformed chnrches abroad,
the Almighty cared not for temples built with
hands; simplicity, as far as possible, removed
from the pomp, tjie glare and glitt«r of the Bo-
man church, was most acceptable unto Him, and
a bam as good a temple sa the vast and won-
droos dome of St. Peter's itself, provided only
those within it worshipped in uncerity and truth.
lAttd thought differently, as no doubt did many
good and conscientioua persons, who had long
been representing tliat it was indecorous to wor-
ship God in places no better than stables. Soon
after the death of Buckinghani, when, as Bishop
I^nd, he " had gi-eat favour with the king," a
proclamation waa issued to the bishops for the
repair of decayed churches throughout the king-
dom. It waa asserted in this royal ordinance,
that by law the oune ought to be repnired and
maintained at the charge of the inhabitants and
others having land in those chapelries and pa-
rishes respectively, who had wilfnlly neglected
to repair the same, being consecrated places of
God's worship and Divine service. His majesty
charged and commaaded all archbishops and bi-
shops to take special care that these repiurswere
done, and by themselves and their officers to take
B view and survey of them. The parishionei's
a.nd landlords thought that a pai't, if not the
whole of the expense, instead of falling solely
upon them, ought to be defrayed oat of the tithes
which tliey paid ; but wiiat was calculated to
produce stili greater disgust waa the concluding
clause of the proclamation, wherein the bishops
were ordered "to use the powers of the Ecclesias-
tical Court for putting the same in due execution;
and that the judges be required not to iuterrupt
this goo"! work by their too easy granting of pi-o-
hibitions." ' Tliat is, the judges were not to inter-

polntnl bj hinuslf.
' faa the proolUDitian,

Ih or Cotobar, i(y29, li

I. 423

fere to stop the proceedings of the Ecclesiastical
Court in extorting money from the subject for
the repairing and adorning of churches and cha-
pels. Nor did Charles and Lnud stop here; for
the month of May, 1631, a commiasion was
issued, with the usual arbitrary forms, empower-
ing the privy council "to hear and examine all
differences which shall arise betwixt any of our
courts of justice, especially between the civil and
ecclesiastical jurisdiction." Some three months
before the issuing of this commission. Land asto-
rshed the peojde of London by his newly made
• revived ceremonial of consecrating churches.
The first which he so consecrated was that of St.
Catherine Creed, a London church, which had not
been rebuilt, but only repaired, but which waa
pronounced by him to require the ceremony, be-
) new timber and other materials, not eon-
seci'ated, had been introdaeed. He proceeded to
St. Catherine's in the greatest state, an infinite
number of people of all sorts "drawing toge&er,"
says his sympathizing biographer, Heylin, "to
behold that ceremony to which they had so long
been strangers, ignorant alb^;ether of the anti-
quity and the necessity of it." In fact, the Bom-
iah aspect of the ceremony, from bc^nning to
end, gave scandal and alarm to the majority of
the spectators. To begin his repairs at St Paul's
with pomp and effect, he conducted the king thi-
ther in state, and after a fitting sermon Chai'len
took a vieir of the dilapidations of the church,
which appear to have been vei'y serious. Soon
after a commission was issued under the great
seal, ^(pointing money brought in for the porpooe
of repairs to be paid into the chamber of Lon-
don, and declaring further, that "the judges of
the prerogative courts, and all officials through-
out the several bishoprics of England and Wales,
ipou the decease of persons intestate, sliould be
excited to remember this chnrch out of what waa
proper to be given to pious uses.*' The clergy,
being summoned by their ordinaries, gave to-
wards the repairs of St. Paul's a kind of annnal
subsidy; Sir Paul Pindar gave £4000 and other
assistance; the king contributed altogether about
£10,000, Laud himself only ilOO per annum. As
more money was wanted, it waa sought for in the
arbitrary fines extorted in the StarChamber and
in the High Commission Courts, in which I^ud
waa ail prevalent, and where he carried two great
objecte at once, by intermeddling with men's con-
sciences and private conduct, and by making
their punishment contribute to his great object of
rendering St. Paul's a kind of rival of St. Peter's.
"He intended tlie discipline of the church," aays
Clarendon, in a striking passage, "should be felt
as well as spoken of, and that it should he ap-
plied to the greatest and most splendid traus-

' KfmK: * L\fi Df land.

»Google

iU

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Crr

D Vn.iTi.Kr.

greeaors as well as to the pimishDieiit of amaller
offeDces and me&ner offenders; and thereapon
called for, or cherisliad, the discovery of those
who were not careful lo cover their own iniqui-
ties, Ihiukitig they were above the reach of other
inen, or their power or will to cbnattse. PersoDs
of honour and great quality, of the court and of
the country, were every day cited into the High
Commission Court, upon the fume of their incon-
tinence, or other scandal in their Uvea, and were
there prosecuted to their shame and puniahinent;
and a« the ehome (which they called an ioaulent
tnuiuph upon their degree and quality, and le-
velling them with the oomoion people) was never
forgotten, but watched for revenge, so the fines
imposed there were the more questioned and re-
pined against, because they were assigned U> the
rebuilding St. Paul's Church, and thought, there-
tore, to be the more severely imposed, and the
less compassionately reduced ajid excused: which
likewise made the jurisdiction and rigour of the
Star Chamber more felt and murmured against,
nnd sharpened many men's humouni against the
bishops, before they had any ill iuteution to-
wards the church.'" Well supplied with money
from this curious variety of sources, and spurred
by the active, impatient sj>irit of Laud, the work-
men procee<led apace, but with more rapidity
llian good taste or attention to congruity. Inifjo
Jones restored the aides with a clunuy Gothir,

Inoo JoMa* runco, wHtandoTOId M. PbhI'i— J

and threw >ip in the western front a fine Corin-
thian portico; but before the body of the work
was flnish«d the bishop was brought to the block ;
and during the Civil wars St. Paul's was con-
verted into barracks for the parliament's dra-
goons. Tt got aliroaii that Ijaud, in Mpealthig be.

fore his majesty, had expressed himself in favour
of the rule of celibacy as imposed on all Romau
priests by Pope Gregory, and in disparagement
of the married clergy, saying that he, for his part,
other tilings being equal, nhould, in the disposal
of benefices, always give the preference to such
clergymen as lived in celibacy. This was touch-
ing a most sensitive chord : there were some
things in which the churchmen of the Establish-
ment would willingly have resumed the ancient
UHage, but a return to celibacy was horrible and
;heir eyes. A loud and universal
warned laud that he had gone too far.
His retractation was adroitly managed. He im-
mediately got up a marriage between one of his
own chapluins and a daughter of his friend or
creature Windebank, performed the nuptial ser-
vice himself in a very public manner, and gave
the married chaplain preferment. We have de-
plored the fanatical and barbarous destruction
of works of art connected with the old religion:
Laud —we can scarcely believe from mere taste —
was most anxious to preserve such fragments as
had hitherto escaped, an<l to supply the places of
some of those which had perished. But the way
in which he went to work only gave a fresh im-
petus to the iconoclastic fury. Mr. Sherfield, a
liencber of Lincoln's Inn, and recorder of Sanim,
by direction of a vestry, and iu acconianee with
acts of parliament and canons of the Keformed
church, caused a jiicture on glass
to be removed from the window
of a church and broken to
pieces. ' liiud, thereupon,

brought him up in the Star
Chamber, maintaining that he
had usurped on the jurisdiction
of the bishop and that of his
majesty as supreme head of the
church. He tliere ventured to
defend the use of painted ima-
ges in places of worship, and
counted among the evils which
attended tlieir destruction the
keeping moderate C'atholics
away from church. Some mem-
bers of the court presumed to
hint that T-aud was leaniug to-
wards Popery: but the majority
sentenced Sherfield to pay .£500
trr Hoii»r. to the king, tfl lose his office of

recorder, to find security that
he would break no more images, and also "to
make a public acknowledgment of his offence, not
only in the parish church of St. Edmond's, where
'Tin iHLTtlciiUr piottire dMtroytd Lj Mr, SherBsId iiiiwn

,v Google

AD. 1828-1835] CHAI

it WM coiiimitte<], but iu tlie c&theilral cliuruh it-
self, that the bishop, in coutempt at whose au-
thority he had plajed this pageant, might have
reparatioa." Upon Laud's firat removal to the
see of London, be presented to Charles a list of
" consideratious for the better settling of the
church govemment." He proposed that the bi-
shops should be commanded to reside in their
several dioceses, exeepliTig thon vhiah wen in at-
tendance at oourt; that a special charge should be
given them against frequent and unworthy ordi-
nations; and that especial care should be had
over the lecturers, which, bj reason of their paj,
were the people's creatures, and blew the cosJs
of their sedition. "For the abating of whose
power," continues lAud, " these ways may be
taken: — That the afternoon senncns in all par-
ishes be turned into catechizing; that every lec-
turer do read Divine eervioe according to the
Liturgy printed by authority, in his surplice and
hood, if in church or cliapel, and if in a market
town, then In a gown, and not in a cloak; that
the bishop should suffer none under noblemen
and men qualified by law to keep any private
chaplain in their houses; that his majesty should
prefer to bishoprics none but men of oourage, gra-
vity, and expvrienea in govemmeiU; that Emma-
nuel and Sydney Colle^fes, in Cambridge, 'which
are the nurwries of Puritanism,' be from time to
time provided with grave and orthodox men for
their governors; that more enco^iragement should
be given to the High Commisaion Court; that
some course should be taken to prevent the judges
from sending so many prohibitious," ' &c. Char-
les regulated his conduct according to these sug-
gestions, and shortly after he issued his "regal
instructions," which differed very slightly from
the considerations preaeuted by I^ud, and in-
cloded all the clauses except those relating to the
Cambridge colleges and the High Commission
Court, which it was neither necessary nor expe-
dient to mention in public. Laud, upon the
appearance of , these instructions or injunctions,
which were of his own devising and composition,
enmnioned all the ministers and leeturers within
the city and suburbs of London, and, making a
solemn speech, pressed them all to be obedient
to hts majesty's orders, as being full of religion
and justice, and advantageous to the church and
commonwealth, although they were mistaken by

LES r. 425

' some lutety and incompetent persons, Sut, at the
' same time, Laud projected several things which
, were good and laudable in themselves, without
being opposed to the national liberties. Such
were the buildings at St. John's College, Oxford,
wherein he had been bred ; the setting up a Greek
press in London;' the appointment of a professor
of Arabic at Oxford ; the foundation of an hospi-
tal at Beading; all of which works were perfec(«d
in his lifetime. He had proposed to find a way
to increase the stipends of poor vicars, but this
remained an intention.

Maintaining the closest correspondence with
Viscount Wentworth, now (1632) not merely
President of the North, but also Lord-deputy of
Ireland, I^ud endeavoured to surround the king
with persons devoted to his ovrn views and 11-
terests. On the 16th of June, 1632, Francis
Windebank, his old friend, whose daughter he
had married to his chaplain, was sworn secretary
of state; and in the month of July another old
and sturdy friend, Dr. Juxon, tjien dean of
Worcester, at his snit, was sworn clerk of his
majesty's doaet. "So that Windebank having
the king's ear on one side, and the elerk of the
closet on the other, be might presume to have his
tale well told between them, and that his majesty
should not easily be possessed with anything to
his disadvantage.'" If liiud had taken bU to
himself in the business of the church while only
Bishop of London, he became far more absolute
on his promotion to the primacy. He commanded
like a pope of the fourteenth century. The com-
munion-table, which, according to Clarendon, had
not been safe " from the approaches of dogs," was,
by an order of council, directed to be removed,
in all cases, from the centre to the east end of
the church, to be railed in, and called by its old
Soman name of altar. Agamst disobedient
priests, nay, even against neglectful churchwar-
dens, were hurled the thundeiv of excommuni-
cation. Not merely painted glass bq[au to re-
appear in the windows, but pictures in the body
of the churches and over the altars. I«nd was
inexorable on the subject of surplices and lawn
sleeves. Everywhere great pains were taken to
give pomp and magnificence to the national wor-
ship, and a dignified or imposing appearance to
the persons of the officiating ministers.

The more religious part of the Protestant com-

icn.™.

aAf^in

< IttAwHtk. JbM st thi* ttut Ht. Bonsid, Isctom at
■■'■ Ghojeh, LoDdoo. uld. la hJi prV" bifon lar-
d. op«ti tju aya of the qasni'i nuO*"^, th^t ihA
•■ Chilct, wlum (ha hu ^uaad witb bar InOddltj,
B,aod jdalitry." Par tlitsB voidi lu wu quvtlunad
in Uw H i^ Cominlakni Court, irhlidi dnUnd th* uma to ba
■ed, fend ^tA to b* npaaled. Hie iB&kHU
sped uij leren pnnlihnunt b; making

tn as ubttnuT mi

piintan, in an edlUon of Iht Blbla

awkward mliUka of omlttlns the wi

pandlad. Tha biihop ailed In On impniiloii, and oUItd i
Eha poorivlntni to tba Uljh ComiiiWini Coort, which aeutgna
them Co jr-S an oxorbllaat ftne. Tlth part of wbloh IawI pr
Tidad ths Or»k Ijrpe for pitntlng andaot manOinlpta, tn.

160

,v Google

426

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cn-

D MlLITART.

Tuunity— the claaaet brauded with the genenl
'niUDe of Puritans^regarded these attempta with
horror, and considered them as nothing leai than
an engiDe to batt#r down the pare worship, and
destroy the pure worshippers of God,' They
had delighted especially in evening lectures and
eztamporary prayers, wherein they wer« often
carried away by their fervour to utter things
displeasing to the court; L^ud, by a stroke of
bis pen, Bnppressed the evening meetings and the
extemporary praying. In the banning of the
month of October, 1633, there were compbunts
made to the council concerning charch-ales and
revels upon the Lord's-day in Somersetshire.
The Lord Chief-justice Richnrdson and Baroa
Denharo, being on the circuit in that county,
thought it incumbent on them to issue an order,
similar to divers others that had been made here-
tofore by the judges af assize, for the suppressing
of these noisy sports. As soon as intelligence of
this proceeding reached the ears of lAud, he
complained of it to the king as an insolent inva-
sion of his province; and the chief-justice was
commanded to attend the council, where he was
not only made to revoke his order, but also re-
ceived "such a rattle, that he came out blubber-
ing and complaining that he had been almost
choked with a pair of lawn sleeves."' The jus-
tices of peace, being much troubled at the re-
vocation of the order, drew up a petition to the
king, showing the great mischiefs that would
befall the country if the Sabbath were not better
kept, and if these meetings at church-alee, bid-
ales, and clerk-ales, condemned by the laws,
should now be set up again. The petition was
subscribed by Lord Poulet, Sir WUliam Port-
man, Sir Ralph Hopeton, and many other gentle-
men of rank and fortune; but before they could
deliver it to the king, a declaration came forth
concerning "lawful sports to be used of Sou-
days,' which was little more than a republication
of King James's Book of Sp«rf*, which, after a
time, had been disregardetl and cast aside. After
giving the whole of that document, Charles, or
lAud, added, that his present majesty " ratified
and published this, his blessed father's declara-
tion ; the rather because of late, in some counties,
nuder pretence of taking away of abuses, there
had been a general forbidding, not only of ordin-
ary meetings, but of the feasts of the dedication
of the churches, commonly called wakes. Now,"
continued this rtnvoi, " his majesty's express will
and pleasure is, that the«e feasts, with others,
•hall be observed. , . . And his majesty further
commands all justices of assice, in their several
circuits, to see that no man do trouble or molest
any of his loyal and dutiful people in or for their

I Mn. HnUUiMai'i Mtmain tf CthmA /Mrtmom.

lawful recreations, having first done their duty
to God, And continuing in obedience to his ma-
jesty's laws. . , . And doth further will, that
publication of this his command be made by
order from the bisliops, through all the parish
churches of their several dioceses respectively.**
The bishops, it should appear, were obedient
enough; but many ministers, very conformable
to the church in other respects, refused to read
this order in their churches; for which some
were suspended, some silenced from preaching
and otherwise persecuted. This made men to look
again beyond the Atlantic for some place where
they might be free from the " haughty prelate's
rage.' At the same time Laud stretched bis
hands to Scotland and Ireland, making a sad tur-
moil in both countries; and Charles continued to
issue proclamations without number, and on an
infinite variety of subjects, from fixing the reli-
gion that people were to profess, down to fixing
the price of poultry— from a prohibition of heresy
to a prohibition of the abuses growing out of the
retailing of tobacco. The power of Archbishop
lAud kept daily on the increase, and certainly
the proud churchman neglected none of the arta
of a courtier, or those adroit compliances which
smoothed his ascent. He had, however, now and
then to sustain a check from the qneen, whoM
influence over Charles seemed to grow with year*
and troubles, and with his now cherished plan of
governing like a king^like a very King of EVance
— without intermeddling and impertinent parlia-
mente. Henrietta Maria's temper was almost as
dif&culttomanageasasturdyPnritan'sconscienee;
at times she conceived plans connected with her
religiou, and exacted services which startled even
the boldness of the primate. But, soon after,
lAud was put into the Commission, or, aa ha
calls it, the Great Committee of Trade and the
king's revenue. On March the 14th of the fol-
lowing year he was named chief of the Board
of Commissioners of the Exchequer, appointed
upon the death of Lord Weston (recen tly created
Earl of Porthuid), the lord high-treasurer. After
presiding over the board for about a year, he
induced the king to make his friend Juxon,
Bishop of London, lord high-treasurer; in do-
ing which, he did not " want some seasonable
consideration for the good of the church."* His
biographer says that Bishop Juxon was a most
upright man, yet it was generally conceived that
the archbishop, in making this appointment,
neither consulted his present ease — fur which he
should have procured the treasnrer's white staff

»Google

A.D. 1620—1635.] CHAB

for CottiDgtoD, who bftd long beeu chancellor of
the exchequer, and who looked to the bOS Al-
most aa his due' — not his future security; for
which he ought to hare adrised the delivery of

Btaeor Jdzoh.^Pkhh ■ print b/ Vertus.

the staff to some popular nobleman, euch as the
Earl of Bedford, Hertford, or Easex, or Lord
Say.* It is quite certain that sevend gr«at noble-
men, who had borne rather patiently with Laud's
tyranny in church aud state, became very patri-
otic after the disposal of this high and lucrative
ofBce; and it is almost equally certain that Juion
waa an bonester man than most of his predeces-
sors. It is difficult to conceive a learned body
carrying baseness and adulation farther than was
practised at this time by the university of Ox-
ford, the proceedings of which, in Fnritan no-
tions, ver^ on idolatry and blasphemy. They
gavelAud the title of Holiness, which the Papists
bestowed on the pope, and they applied to him
the other title attached to the tiara, of " Summus
Pontifex," They told him in their lAtin epistles
that he was " Spiritn Sancto effusissime plenus,"
" Archangelns, et ne quid minDS," ftc.'

And even when this vision of vain-glory was
departing from him, laud maintained that these
expressions, so offensive to Protestant ears, so
inapplicable to frail humanity, were proper and
commendable, btcavm they had been applied to
the popes and fathera of the Roman church.
Not satisfied with coercing m<

1i dlaij l^bd Dut^ t]

II of HtiJ, Juna, mml

JdIt (1035), ■

of ths Bumt

bsppaaed betwn Lord CoCtington aod hlnuelf And upon

8mHU;. tlx l^lh of Jnlj. hs nola thst hii old Mad Ki

ITiuMis WlDdabuk), fonook him. ■o'l Joiatd irlUi ttia

CMtlsctoB, which put hin to tha aiinilH df ■ gntt dal of

pUItiMF, te. ■ R^m. > I>»ii»Ii(awl Trtali.

LES I. 427

England, Scotland, and Ireland, he was deter-
mined to establiah an uniformity of worship, in-
cluding all hie innovations, wherever tiiere was
an English colony or factory — wherever a few
subjects of the three kingdoms were gathered to-
gether for the purpose of commerce, or even for
the military service of foreign states. In 1622,
when his power and infioence were in their in-
fancy, he offered to the lords of the council cer-
tain considerations for the better and more or-
thodox regulation of public worship amongst
the English factories and regiments beyond sea.
He never forgot or neglected a scheme of this
kind; and as soon as he attained to the primacy
he procured an order in council for the observ-
ance of the Anglican Liturgy by the factories in
Holland and the troops serving in that country,
and a chaplain of his own choice was sent to the
factoiy at Delft to establish this orthodoxy, and
to report the names of all such as should prove
refractory. What made the ease the harder, was
the fact that nearly all the soldiers, and most of
the merchants, were Scotch or English Puritans
who had abandoned their own country for the
sake of liberty of conscience. "The like course
was prescribed for our factories in Hsmburg, and
those farther off; that is to say, in Turicey, in
the Mogul's dominions, the Indian islanda, the
plantations in Virginia, the Barbadoes, and all
other places where the English had any standing
residence in the way of trade. The like was
done also for r^^lating the Divine service in the
families of all ambassadors abroad."* In his
paper, presented to the council in I6S3, lAud
hod also proposed reducing the French and Dutch
churches in London to conformity; and now,
having vexed the Scotch and English who hod
fled abroad for religion, he proceeded to harass
the Dutch and the French who had fled Co Eng-
land for the same cause. The French were all
Huguenots, or extreme Calvinists, and, as such,
hateful in the eyes of this Summus Pontifex.
Without condescending to ask the concurrence of
hie master, he addressed to the French church in
Canterbury, and to the Dutch churches in Sand-
wich and Maidstone, the three following ques-
tions:—!. Whether they did not use the Franch
or Dutch Litnrgyl 2. Of how mnny descents
they were, for the moet part, bom subjects of
England? 3. Whether such as were born sub-
jects would conform to the Church of England!
These foreign congregations in Kent declined
answering these interrogatories, and pleaded the
national hosfntality which had been extended to
them when they fled from Papal persecution, and
the privileges and exemptions which bad been
gTant«d to them by Edward VI., and which hail
been confirmed, notonly by Elizabeth and James,

»Google

428

HISTOKY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

> MlLTTAKT.

but bIso by Chvles himself. land, wbo cared
tittle for these Bolemn pledf^ea given to induBtri-
ODB and ingeaious classea of men, who, iu Rorae
respectB, had esseotially improved the country
which thej had cboaeu for their home, isiaed an
order as abaolute aa a pope's bull, that such as
were nativsfi should regularly attend their pariah
churches, and (a condition aa weighty tm their
conformity) contribute in money to the support
of the Anglican clergy; and that such as were
aliens should use the English Liturgy in their
own places of worship, faithfully b^nslated into
their own language. The Protestant refugees
were troubled and dismayed as if a new Duke of
Alva was thundering at their doon: they sought
a respite by addi-euing a humble petition to the
primat«. I^ud answered it in tlie very tone of
a Hildebnmd of the old time; and finally told
them that he had the power and the right of en-
forcing obedience, and that they must conform at
their peril by the time appointed. Hereupon
the refugees presented a petition to the king-,
who left it without any onawer. Soubise, who,
like many othen of tlie French Protestants, had
been precipitated into ruin by the mad expedi-
tion oitlered by Charles and conducted by Buck-
ingham, was now in England, and he took charge
of a second petition, and pleaded to his majesty

of England the danger of fresh persecntions ot
the Protestants in France, if it should be aefln
that their brethren were discountenanced and
oppressed in the conntiy of their choice.' The
reasonings of this nobleman made a deep im-
pression; but all that Charles would grant was,
that those who were bom aliens might Btill en-
Joy the use of their own church service. But
even this concession was limited to the province
ot Canterbury; iu the province of York, wher«
the foreign congregations were weaker in nnm-
bers, money, and friends, land's original injunc-
tions were imposed. In consequence of this
persecution, some thousands of indnstriouB fa-
milies quittedithe kingdom.

Laud, primate and first peer of England, seems
to have imagined that there could be no limits to
his authority. He was already chancellor of Ox-
ford, and now he would visit both universities
by his metropolitan right, and not by commission
from the king as hud been customary. It ap-
pears to have been proved that no Archbishop of
Canterbury, since the beginning of the fifteenth
century, had ever visited either university jure
metropolUano. But after much talk Laud had
his will, and, "plumed thus in his own feathers,
all black and white, without one borrowed from
Giesar, he soared higher than ever."

CHAPTER IX.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1635— 163a

CHAKLES I,

Land's avanioa to WilUami, Biihop of Llnsoln— Ita oknm— PenBontion of Williami bj the uuhbiitiop— Tlra
biibop triad in tba Star Chamber— He ii hnvilr fined snd Imprisoned— Lead's prooaediogt ssetDat tfas liberty
of tba |iraai — Hi* aarara aonionbip of publioitioiia — Bin panacution of Baatwiok, Prjnne, end Biijtan in the
Star Chamber for ibeir writingR^ — Serara aaatanca peeead upon them — Bimiler panecntion and poniihnM&i of
Lilbnrna and Wartoo— N^olietion of Charlea with the ooort of Borne— Tha neeo'letion followed by fresh
conaaaalona lo tha OethoUci— Fowar of Wentworth— Hii prooeadingi ai preaidant of tha Cenncil of tha North
— Hla daapotis gonmmant in Ireland— Ha conrokM tha Iriih perlianiant, and browbaeti it into anbrniaion
— The whole of Connanght elaimed aa ciown Und— Wentworth'a luiquitons proaaedingi to make good the
claim— Triel and punlahmantof Lord Monntnarria—Wentworth peneTaieg in hiityranDiaelmla— Hisatteoks
ontbaPresbyteriuuofUliter— The war of tha Palatinate— OnstBTna Adolphoa ilein at Ltttnn— Death of the
PeUtina Ftedariok— Hii lona inntad into EagUnd— War betweeD Holland end Flanden — CoDtmreray aboet
the dominion ot tha lea — War in Wattphelia by the aona of ttie Palatine — Tha levyiBg of ahip-money in Enp
lend — It* origin — I(a oouditioni — Reeiitauce meda to Iti iinpoiiUon — Aoeonnt ot John Hampden — Hii love
of independence —Hii nneompromiaing career *a a patriot — He refnaea to pay ihip-iDaiiej — The trial oa tlte
oeeailoo — Aignment* on the trial tor and agalnit the lerpng of ahip-money— Baeiitanoe ensonisced hj the
trial.

HE intriguing Williams, Bishop of . by the court, which had induced him, like man^
Lincoln, and ex-lord-keeper, wns , — ~ —

aUo told that Cardisal Rlatwlkan had ■
as of EmUnd. wbo mi a Fmttatan^ wootd
ihnnh dinpliua in hii Uecdma, il OQBld no
>t tba Kiuf of Tianoa. vho ni a Cathcdlo. in

eloquence, and address, hm muni- U^andof tl»<*apt«,Pioiatt.ntli.tolann-w«thab..tw
his hospitality, and his harsh treatment | >te&atarth*r

not only still alive, but a sort of ! ^^ ^ ,
favourite with the people
count of his unquestionable talent,

»Google

A.U. 1633—1638.] CHAB

olkera, to le&n to the eide of the patriots. At
the iostigatioii of his lord aad maater, BuokiDg-
ham, thia prelate had helped land orer the fint
difBcult fltep* of church promotion, and I^ud had
aaaored him that hia life woold be too shoTt to to-
quite hii lordship's goodneu. BntwbenLandroae,
and WilliamB declined, the former hated the latter
aa the only chorchman and atateaman that was
likely to check hia abaolat« dominion. The in-
tcnaity of thia feeling on the part of I^ud was
a tribute to or acknowledgment of the abilities
and tavoir faira of Williams. He dragged the
ex-lord-keeper into the Star Chamber,' for, in
addition to his former ground of enmi^, Wil-
liams had published a tract entitled Th» Holy
Table, in vhich he laahed with much wit and
some learning laud's love for high altars, &c.,
and he had, moreover, refused to surrender his
deanerjof Westminster, which the primate would
at one moment have accepted as a peace-offering,
beeaiut, lacking the deanery, Williams would have
had no pretexta for his frequent visita to London,
and the primate, by a high exercise of his autho-
rity, could have kept him to his diocese among
the fens of Lincolnshire, far away from court
and the resort of public men and politicians.
" Would be have quitted his deanery, perhaps be
might hare been quiet;' ' but Williams had loet his
old pliability, and hia indignation against Land
made him bold. After a series of iniquitous and
arbitrary proceedings on the part of lAud, his
servant Windebaok, and his master Charles, who
threw witnenes into prison to make tfaem swear
what Uiey wanted, browbeat the judges, and re-
moved Chief-justice Heath, putting in his place
one "who was mote forward to undo Lincoln
than erer the Lord Heath was to preserve
bim;" a compromise was effected, chiefly by the
means of Lord Cottington. The bnsinen was
made the easier by the king's great want of
money. Cottington, as the result of hia negotia-
tions to save the ex-lord-keeper from entire ruin,
told WUliams that he must part with ^4000, with
hia deanery, and two commeadams. Williame
did not object to the money, but he stickled
about the preferments. Cottington returned to
court, and then to the disgraced biabop with
new tenns, that is, that he should pay another
^4000 in lien of aurrendering the deanery and
eoromendams. The bishop held up his hands in
amazement at it. " But you will lift your hande

■ Baton •Ui-ohunlxiriDg WilUuB, Laod IndlneUj pit ■
Mil lied agiiiiM him for lHti*]4°< ^^ klBg'i oouuab, but Iha
charga ma u blioloiu, tluC It wu thrown out )i7 tha piJT^

tlH ucTUBtloD ihoold ba qnubed ; but Chulb AAarvanli per.
nIEUd It to ba nide one of the chuxo ^il»t Urn Is tlw SUr
number pnoBBee. — lift if W'^iiama.
* Letter frsm Gananl to Wantwoith, in SlnJ/^ri Faftrt.

I. 429

at a greater wouuei',° said Lord Cottington, "if
you do not pay it;" and he consented to " satisfy
the king." The money was paid wholly or in
part, and in return a royal pardon was proffered
to Williams, who hesitated at accepting it, because
it contained a statement of offences of which he
held himself to be entirely innocent. Taking
ntage of this circumstance, Laud worked
afresh upon the king, who, without restoring the
money he had received for a free and full par-
allowed of A new proBecution in the Star
Chamber. WHIiams was there cliarged with
tampering with witnesses in order to procure
evidence favourable to his cause.' (The court
and the archbishop had not merely tampered
with witnesses to elidt evidence unfavoiiTiMt
to the accused, but bad also imprisoned witnee-
ses, threatened them with ruin, and menaced the
judges;* and there was not a member sitting in
the Star Chamber but must have kuown these
notorious facts.) On the ninth day of the pro-
ceedings, Cottington, who had forsaken Williams
probably from n fear of consequences, stood up
and said, that the bishop had sought and wrought
hia own overthrow ; and then, proceeding to sen-
tence, Cottington proposed that Powel should
be fined £S00, and Walker, Ottlin, and Lunn,
other eervante or agents uf the bishop, ;£300
a-piece. "And," aaid this gentle friend in con-
clusion, " for my Lord-bishop of Lincoln, I fine
him at ;eiO,000 to the king, and tobe imprisoned
in the Tower during his majesty's pleasure, and
to be suspended from all his ecclesiastical func-
tions, both ab officio et ben^ieio; and I refer him
over to the High Commission Court to censure
him as they think fit."' After Finch, Sir John
Bamston, Secretary Windebank, Sir Thomas Ger-
mine, the lord-treasurer (Bishop Juion), and
the three noble Earls of Lindeey, Arundel, and
Uaachester, had spoken in the same sense, most
uf them paying a compliment to Williams' abili-
ties, learning, and high rank in church and state,
but not one of them recommending any diminu-
tion of bis punbhment, the triumphant lAud
stood up and delivered a speech, which has justly
been characterized as one of the moat detestable
monumente of malice and hypocri^ extant' He
openly declared that the new offence was Wit-
lianu' not tubTiniling in tilenix to the oomwolioiu
laid offoitut htm. When St. Cecilia was charged
unjustly with many things, and all the stream
and current was quite against her, she called no
one to prove her innocence, but used the saying
of holy Job, fMfu mmu t*t in eedu—tuj witness

MM) Mondl; obidden bj bit atiaitj, lul moU
ilmaelttorHirmui'aieke," •'

• AtUn, Uimein <ifllu Oiiirt ^Xuv CXotIm 1.

,v Google

430

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

>Hli MlUTABT.

u ill henvea — aiid m, sold Laud, ought the
Biahop of UdcoIh to have dooe.' He aamred
the Star Chamber that mftn; iU-KJispoeed penons
had boldy given out that Williauu had not com-
mitted any faalt whatever, " only that he was
rich, and must be let blood, and the king wasted
ilO,OOODrX13/K>0. But,' continued Land, "bow-
soever theee reports go, the king U juat as he ie
honourable.' He concluded hie very long epeecb
by Baying that he ebould, therefore, a^jree with
luy Lord Cottington, and the reet that went be-
fore him, for the fine of ^10,UOO to bin majesty,
for the imprisonment in the Tower during tiie
king's pleasure, for the snepension from the ex-
ercise of faia ecclesiastical functions, and for turn-
ing Williams over to be proceeded against in the
High Commianon Court.'

The Bishop of Lincoln, who had revelled in the
Kood things of the church, who had been a whole
diooeae iu himself, was forthwith shut up in the
dlemal state prison, and the agents of goveru-
ment, amongst whom, by special appointment,
wap a furious enemy, were let loose to fell his
timber, to kill his deer, to consume Lis stores,
and to sell his moveable property for payment
of his enormous fine. But this was not revenge
enough for Archbishop Laud, who wanted to
change snapenaion into deprivation, imprison-
ment into deportation. Soon after he got posses-
sion of some private letters from Osbaldeaton,
the learned maater of Westminster School, which
letters were addressed to the Bishop of Lincoln,
and contained much scurrilous abuse of the " lit-
tle urchin,' the " Termin and meddling hocua-po-
cus" — terms which Laud maintained could apply
only to himself. Upon the evidence of these let-
ters, or rather of the archbishop's interpretation
of the oSbnaive passages, the Star Chamber sen-
tenced Osbaldeaton to deprivation and branding,
and to stand in the pillory with his ears nailed
to it in front of his own acbool ; but the poor
schoolmaster was fortuuato enough to escape the
■earch of the offlcera, and he left a note to say
that he was "gone beyond Canterbury." All
the wmth of the primate fell, therefore, upon
Williams, who was condemned to pay a further
fine of £8000.

The licensing of all new IxkiIcb was in the power
of Laud. There was nothing new in this ; Milton
had not yet written his glorious argument in de-
fence of unlicensed printing ; the liberty of the
press, which was not eatabtiehed in reality till
long after, had scarcely entered aa an idea into
the iiead of any one; and the Archbiabope of

Canterbury had long been considered cenaora by
right of their spiritual dignity and office. But
what was really new was land's method of ex-
ercising this function. Hitherto many workx,
not strictly in accordance with the views of the
High Church party and of the court, had been
permitted by indolence or indifierence, or conniv-
anoe, to go abroad into the world. Now, on the
contrary, such strictness was used, that nothing
could paaa the preae without the approbation of
lAud, or of his subsdtntes and dependents. The
printers, finding that their busineaa was almost
deatroyed by the tediousness, ancertainty, and
severity of his censornhip, bethought themaelvea
of employing their type in reprinting old books
of divinity, and works already licensed by former
archbishops. But lAud would allow of neither
new nor old without his xm^trimatur, and against
some of these old bookshehada particular spite;
and he procured from the Star Chamber, wliicfa
was now set above all law and all reason too, a
decree, of the most sweeping and tyrannical kind,
which went to hinder the printing at homo, and
the importing from abroad, any mannw of book
that did not pleaae him,' There was one parti-
cular book which had gone through variooa edi-
tions, and which all zealous Protestants loved,
and perliapa eateemed next to the Bible; it was
the Aett and JfoHumtnu, more commonly called
the Book of ilartyrt, of the Puritan Fox. This
book was unsavoury to Laud on many aouounte,
and forthwith he struck it with his fiat that it
shonld be printed no more. At the same time
he refused new lieensas to Bishop Jewel's works,
and to other hooks formerly printed by autho-
rity.' Divinity and law had snfiered the moat
degrading punishments and the mutilation of the
hangman's scisson, in the persons of Leighlon
and Pryune, and now, while one of those sufieiere
was to pass through fresh tortures, the other fa-
culty was to be struck in the person of Bastwick,
a physician. In Trinity term, 1637, this Di'.
Bastwick, together with Prynne, still a prisoner
in the Tower, and Henry Burton, a bachelor in
divinity, were prosecuted in the Star Chamber
for writing and publishing seditious, schismati-
cal, and libellous books againet the hierarchy of
the church, and to the scandal of the government
The details we have given of preoeding cases
will have sufficiently explained the course of Star
Chamber proceedings. We may therefore paw
at once to the sentence, which was—" That each
of the defendante should be fined £0000 ; that
Bastwick and Burton should stand in the piHory
at Westminster, and there lose their ears ; au<l
that Ftynne, having lost his ears before by

»Google

I. 1«35— 1638.] CHAI

Ills court, should have the njnuuiider
of biaean cut off, and shoald be branded on both
cheeke with the letters S. L,, to signifj a sedi-
tiouB libeller." These eiecrable barbarities were
all publicly performed on the 20th of June, the
haugnian rather sawing than cutting off the re-
mainder of Prynne'a ears; and then they were
sent to solitary confinement in the castles of
lAuncMtoD (iu Cornwall), I^Dcaater, and Caer-

LtUWOttOB CjUTLI, a

narvon.' The king was told that not less than
100,000 persons bad gathered together to see
Bnrton, the minister, pass by, and that much
money had been thrown to his wife, who fol-
lowed him in a coach ; bnt Charles would not
be warned. As Frynne went through Chester,
on hia way to CaeroarvOD Castle, one of the
sheriffs with several other gentlemen met him,
and conducted him to a good dinner, defrayed
his expenses, and gave him some coarae hang-
ings or tapestry to furnish hia dungeon at Caer-
narvon. Uoney and other presents were offered,
but refused by Prynne. laud forthwith de-
spatched a pursuivant to bring the sympathiziug
sheriff to London.* The three captives were
afterwards removed out of the way of their
friends to the islands of Jersey, Ouemsey, and
Scilly; " the wives of Baatwick and Burtou not
being allowed, after many petitions, to have ac-
cess unto them, nor to set foot in the island;
neither was any friend permitted to have access
to Mr. Pryune,"' ^

f UliBl^~ mid laud U

I know not wh»t Eomtah np«

1» nam of II : u It Iha «Unul dMtnt wonUp c
not bi npliald to Ihia Mmrtnm, wiUunt bdnclBg t
—Riirfww'*. ' Slnfrml Liltm • Rmkmrfi

LES I. 431

1838 About six months after the pun-
ishments above described, John Lil-
biu^e and John Warton were t(ar-eAamb»red
(the practice had become so prevalent that peo-
ple had made a verb for it) for the unlawful
printing and publishing of libellous and seditions
books, entitled Nawaftom Ipiteich, &c. The pri-
soners both refused to take an oath to answer
the interrogatories of the court, lilbume saying
that no free-lmm Engliahmui
ought to take it, not being
bound by the laws of his
country to accuse himself.*
Upon the 9th of February
the Star Chamber ordered
that, as the two delinquents
had contemptuously refused
to take the oaths tendered
to them, they should be re-
manded to the Fleet prison,
there to remain close pi-ison-
ers, and to be eiaminedi and
that, unless they yielded to
take the said oaths, they
should be proceeded against
for contempt on the Monday
following. Upon the 13th of
February they were again
brought to thebarof the Star
Chamber, and still continuing
in their former obstinacy,
their lordships adjudged and decreed that Lil-
bume and Warton should be sent back to the
Fleet, there to remain until they conformed them-
selves—that they should pay fSOO a-piece as
fines, for his majesty's use— and, before their
enlargement, find good sureties for their good
behaviour. " And," continued the sentence, "to
the end that others may be the more deterred from
daring to offend in the like kind hereafter, the
court hath further ordered and decreed that tlie
said John Lilbume shall be whipped through the
streets from the prison of the Fleet unto the pil-
lory, to be erected at such time and in such place
as this court shall hold fit; and that both he and
Warton shall he set in the taid pillory, and from
thence returned to the Fleet." To make the
whipping the longer, and to have the punish-
ment performed near to the court which had de-
creed it, the pillory was placed between West-
minster Hall gate and the Star Chamber; and to
that point Lilbume was smartly whipped all the
way from his prison. But this enthusiast had a
not to be subdued by the scoui^-
Whilat he was whipped at the

id ConianU lUnnnud.

ipirit which v
ing of his body.
cart, and stood in the pillory, he uttered many

»Google

1S2

IIlSTOltY OF ENGLAND.

bold speeclira agHiDat tyrauiiy of bUhop«, &c.\
luid, wheu hia head was iu the hole of the pil- i
\ory, be BCfttUred auDdiy copies of pamphlets
(•aid to be 8«ditiouB;, and toeseil them aiuoog the
people, taking them out of hia pocket; where-
upon the Court of Star Chamber, then sitting, |
being informed, immediately ordered Lilbome ,
to be gagged during tbe residue of the tiuie be
was to ttaad iu the pillory, which was done ac-
cordingly; and, when he could not speak, he |
•tamped with hia feet, thereby intimating to i
the beholden he would still speak were hia >
mouth at liberty."' The Star ciiamber, more-
over, ordered that Lilbume "bhould be laid
alone, with irons on his hands and legs, iu the
ward of the Fleet, where tbe basest and meanest
•prt of prisoners are used to be put;" and that the
warden shonid prevent hii getting any books, let-
ters, or writings, or his aeeing any of hia friends;
tftking care at the same time to note who the
persons were that attempted to visit him, and

■"eport their uameE to tlie board. Soon ufter,
however, ii lire breakiug out iu tbe prison, he
was removed to a better place, where he had
more light and air.— We shall soon meet Johu
Lilbume again.

While these transactions were spreadiug hor-
ror and disgust through England and Scotland,
fresh religious alarms were excited by a myste-
rious negotiation with tbe court of Rome, and
the arrival of Gregorio Panzani, an envoy from

1 No dtnbt lAut tud tha gagi readj ] Tot Pr^iinA, Baatwick,
MoA Qorton, wbil* aulTaTuiff thoir pajj|«hm«tjl. hid addmHd
Uw pupil, "who oTled and howled Muiblj. sipeciUUj whm
Bortonwunoppad." In wiiling to th« LoB^^l•pow Wmtworth,
Uw prlmiu Mr»_" What aa; jon lo il, that Prjom and hia
ftUawiiboaldbiniBiind to talk what ths^ plsKd whlli th«r
■lood In th* piUoTT, and win aedanatlou ftom tha psople. and
bar* noMa Uluu at what thg; tpaku, and thw notai apnad
Id written coplea about the cltj ; and that, when ther weut ont

tbe Vatican, who W4a uuurteously received by
Charles and his queen, by Lord Cottiugton (a
Catholic in disguise), and by Secretary Winde-
bank. Panzani had frequent interviews with
Montague and some other of the bishops; but
Laud cautiously kept away from these coniereu-
cea, which are sud to have turned almost entirely
on the poBsibllity of re-uniting the Anglican and
Roman churches. Tbe Italian had a very lim-
ited commission, and, as an acute and olwerving
man, it was not difficult for him to perceive tbe
inanperable obstacles which existed in the reso-
lute opinions of the English people. He soon
returned to Rome; but two accredited agents to
the queen, Rosetti, an Italian priest, and Con, a
Scotch priest, arrived, and were entertained at
London. At the same time Henrietta Maria
acut an agent of her own to reside at Rome.
And though proselytism, which the queen ever
had much at heart, made no progress among
the people, it was otherwise with the court gen-
try, among whom several sudden conversions
were witnessed and paraded. Not only were
the old penal laws allowed l« sleep, but fresh
favours and indulgences were daily shown to
the Catholics — not out of toleration, for that
blessed spirit would have preveuted Charles from
persecuting the Protestant sectaHu^is, but as a
tribute paid to the still increasing influence of
the queen, and to the slavish devotion to tbe
crown professed by the members of the old
church.

By this time Idtud had accumulated upon him-
self a burden of hat« heavy enough to crush any
man ; but bis bosom friend Wentworth was not
much behind-hand with him, having been as
tyrannical in state matters as lAud had been
in ecclesiastical. From the moment of his apos-
tasy, his rise, or, as it has been rather happily
'tailed, bis " violent advancement," was most
rapid. President of the North, a privy counsel-
lor, baron, and viscount—" the Duke of Buck-
ingham himself flew not so high in so short a
revolution of time." But if his promotion was
rapid, his devotion to tbe principle of despotism,
bis activity, bis boldness, and, for a time, his
success in serving the government as Charles
wished to be served, were all extreme. There
was no post in England which ofiered so lai-ge a
field for tyranny and lawlesauess as that of the
presidency of the Council of the North ; and

a obHTTa mot rightlj th
ihnrch, that tbaj might aftel ba*a tha freer
and 1 wmJd to Ood otber mvi wen otyrmr
vr, if thaj he eo alraady, 1 wooJd Ibej had
or timelj prerantlon ; but, 1^ that, we an
will DM ballara than k anj ft>al wtsthei

ik upon IB."— Arr^tftnid Lt

»Google

.. 1633-1638.]

CHARLES I.

433

tliere never was a rana put iu it no Apt to take
the full range ot the power it conferred as Tbo-
mas Wentworth. The Council ot the North—
lUi offopriug of blood and tyranny — wbb first
erected by Henry VIII. nfter the auppresaion of
the great insurrection of the northern provinces,
known by the nnnie of the Pilgrimage of Grace.
This council had a criminal juriadictiou over all
Yorkshire and the four more northern counties,
in cases of conspimcies, riots, and acts of vio-
lence. It had alao, in its origin, a jurisdiction
ID civil euiU, or at least the faculty of deciding
causes, when either of the parties litigating was
too poor to bear the expenses of a process at
common law. But, aa far back as the time of
Elizabeth, tbe judges had held this latter autho-
rity to be illegal. Indeed the lawfulness of the
whole tribunal, which was regulated at the arbi-
trary will of the court, eipresaed in instructions
under the great seal, had always bcsn very doubt-
ful; and, uulesB it wns pretended to exclude that
important part of England from the benefits of
that great national act, it had became more proble-
matical tliRii ever since the passing of the Petition
of Right But, heedless of these considerations,
Wentworth immediately began to enlai-ge the
jurisdiction of his court; and he was seeouded
by the king, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and
the privy council. It has been fairly observed
that the soliciting or procuring such inordioate
]>ower3 as these, and that too, by a person so
well versed in the laws and constitution of bis
country, was of itself ground sufiicient for an im-
peachment But Wentworth not only obtaiDe<l
these powers, but abused them when he had got
them, to gratify his own pride and lust for domi-
neering, or to strike terror into the hearts of the
party he had abandoned, and of all who sought to
np|>ose arbitrary measures. He ruled like a king,
and like a despotic king, uncontrolled by par-
liaments or laws, and his name became a word
of terror through all the nortli. Several of his
prosecutions of gentlemen of rank aud influence |
were personally vindictive, and carried on with
a most rancorous spirit. In 1633, witliout re-
signing the presidency of the North, he obtained
the still more important and unchecked post
of Lord-deputy of Ireland. Dublin was as much
better a field for such a man than York, as York
was better than London. The ordinary course
of afiali-B in Ireland was in the main lawless and
absolute. Eveu in times when the sovereign pro-
fessed more reverence for the laws and constitu-
tion, the Irish people were treated by the loni-
deputies in muuh the same fashion in which the
rxyah subjects ot the Turkish empire were treated
by the pashas. It was In Ireland chiefly that
Wentworth raised himself to that bad eminence
which is now as everlasting as our annftls and
Vol II.

language ; a:id yet, in spite of all his dark deeds,
his government was for a time in some respects
advantageous to the country. Before his arrival
there were hundreds of tyrants, but where Went-

worth was thei-e could be no tyrant save himself;
[ his bold and grandiose despotism swallowed upall
j smaller despotisms. Ee put down at once the
oppressions aud malvera^ions of his subordi-
nates; and in the ofiices ot government and the
whole administration of affaire, where there had
I been nothing but a chaotic confusion and un-
I profitable waste, he introduced and maintained
something like economy and order. He saw,
however, from the beginning, that little or no-
thing could be done without calling together
an Irish parliament; and, confident in his own
{ powers of intriguing, imposing, and domineer-
ing, he ventured to recommend that measure to
his master as one of expediency, and which, under
his management and control, would be perfectly
harmless. His arguments were put with great
skill and force; but he encountered some diffi-
culty in obtaining the consent of diaries, who
now hated the very name of parliament. "As
for that hydra," wril«« the king, "take good heed;
for you know that here I have found it as well
cunningaa malicious. It is trne that your grounds
are well laid; and I assure you that I have a
great trust in your care and judgment; yet my
opinion is, that it will not be the worse for my
service, though their obstinacy make you to
break them, for I fear that they have some
ground to demand more than is fit for me to
give. This I would not say it I had not confi-
dence in your conrage and dexterity, that, in

,v Google

434<

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and Miutart.

that case, joa would aet me down there an ex-
ample what to do here.''

Wentworth omitted no arta, no cajolery, pro-
mises, or thi'eata, t« prepare beforehand for a
Bubmtsaive nsaembly. He told some of the lead-
ing men that it was abaolutelj ia their power to
have the happiest parliameut that ever was in
that kingdom; that nothing was wanting there-
unto but their putting an absolute ti-ust in the
king, without ofTering any condition or restraint
at all upon his royal will. The bronze-faced re-
negade, who had himself made the loudeat thun-
der that had been heard in the English House of
Commons, bade them take warning hj the fate of
that house, and be wise by others' harms. They
were not ignorant, he said, of the misfortunes
these meetings had run in England of late years,
and therefore they were not to strike their foot
upon the same stone of distrus^.' ^ven his ad-
miring friend. Archbishop Lat)^, appears Uf have
blushed at this daring piece irf effrontery. Went^
worth, however, obtained his object in a promise
that no bills should be introduced but such as
were agreeable to liim; and he then opened the
parliament with royal pomp, delivered a speech
which might have served Milton as a model for
the harangue of the proud Lucifer himself, and
forthwith demanded and obtained the extraordi-
nary grant of sii subaidies. When the second
session came, in which the parliament were to
debate upon the grievances of the country, they
were cut short, ab initio, taunted, reviled, men-
aced, by the man who had made them solemn
promises in the king's name, and bi/ the hijtg't
expreu ordert, but who, by his commanding per-
son and manners, and overwhelming eloquence,
made them appear like crimiuals before an in-
flexible aud upright judge, and hold their timid
toflgnes. He was not backward in ctiuming hia
reirard for these very acceptable services ; he
wanted to change his viscountship for an earl-
dom, and applied to his master, "not only pri-
marily but solely, without so much as acquaint-
ing any body with it," Charles acknowledged
"that noble minds are always accompanied with
lawful ambition;* but he would not give him
what he aaked for; and the reason for his refus-
ing is as clear as it is characteristic of the king: he
wi^«d his lord-deputy to bear the whole odium
of deceiving and tyrannizing over the parliament;

and, therefore, he abstained from hastening to
honour his true and accepted servant. If Went-
worth's mad ambition, and his enjoyment in the
present possession of arbitrary power, had per-
mitted him to reflect upon these things, and upon
the mind of his mast«r, as partially disclosed in
his letters,' he must inevitably have foreseen his
own fate ; but he went on as he had begun,
sharpening the axe for his own neck, whenever
it should suit Charles to deliver him up as n
sacrifice.

Charles and his lieutenant, not satisfied with
refusing any more grants of the crown lands in
Ireland, suddfuly laid claim to all the lands in
the province of Connaught It was maintained
that this gr«at province had fallen to the crown
through the forfeiture of an Irish rebel, as far
back as the reign of Edward IV. Since that time
it had been granted out in parcels by patents,
which the occupants and the courts of law also
long considered to be good titles in all respects.

SB had listened to the tempting arguments
of bis crown lawyers, who undertook to demon-

e that the said patents were worth nothing,
and that all Connaught was his; but he had not
ventured upon the experiment of actually seiz-
ing it. Nor was it the design of his son to take
absolute poaaeasion of all the province; it was m-
ther to frighten men out of their money, by mak-
ing them believe that they held their property
by an insecure tenure. The men of Connaught
were told that they must produce their titles, and
surrender them, wheu proved defective, to the
king's majesty, who, upon such terms aa he might
choose, would grant them valid titles to their
property. The lord-deputy, who had told Charles
that he had made him as absolute a king in Ire-
land as any prince in the whole world could be,*
proceeded, at the head of a commiaaion, to hold
an inquisition in each county of Connaught. Be-
gimiing at BoBcommon, he anmmoned a jury com-
posed of "gentlemen of the best estates and un-
derstand ings." These gentlemen were instructed
beforehand, that it would be best for their own
interests to return such a verdict as his majesty .
desired, since he was able to eatabliah his right
without their consent, and wished only to settle
the cause on a proper basis, intending graciously
to reinvest them legally with what they now held
unlawfully. These threats and the ai-tful and

I Slrnffard Lrlltrt

_ lapennltthsislllnicitthslTMiFU'liiiiHnt.
d tho mort wal(ht irlth Uii klug iia^ tbiit If tlu

■Ivalj In ill Ihlngi. II owiUl t» lumTnihly d[>.

Ill loM, Hnd Juttlj (ij pniilih » grMt i
■!• b. Jndg«l to b. in thum. ■■—/»;«(.
■t botb the klni nd tha lord-dfpntT «

ntfld nothing of pu^

»Google

imposing eloqaence of Wentwortb, prevailed in
the counties of Bosoommon,8ligo,andMft}ni;but
in coQut; Oolwaj, which vas almoet entirely oc-
cupied hj Inah and Catholics, a Jul? Stood ont
manfully against the crown, and, as Weatworth
expressed it, "most obstiaat«ly and pervereely
refused to find for his majesty." The lord-de-
puty, who had not threatened without a resolu-
tion to execute his threats, forthwith levied a
tine of XlOOO on the sheriff, for retumiog so im-
proper a jury, and be dragged all the jurymen
iuto the Castle Chamber, which was Aii Star
Chamber, where they were condemned in fiues
of £4000 a-piece. He then endeavoured to bring
about the destruction of the Earl of Clanricarde
and of other great proprietors of the county; to
seize the fort of Oalway; to march a good body
of troops into the county, and take possession of
the estates of all such as were not ready to com-
ply with the king's will,' Some of these auggea-
tions, and the mode proposed for carrying them
into execution, were detestable; but Charles has-
tened to express his cordial approbation of them.
The Oalway proprietors, who were certainly not
aware of this fact, for they had been by Charles's
management induced to believe that the barsh-
□esa proceeded, not from him, but from the malice
aud tyranny of his lieutenant, sent over agents
to represent their case to his majesty. Charles
received them at Royslon, and met their com-
plaints with reproaches, telling them how uudu-
tiful they had been; and, in the end, he sent
them back to Ireland as state prisoners. Old
CUuiicarde, whose virtuous and high-minded
sou had headed the deputation, died a few weeks
after these tyrannical proceedings. " It is re-
potied," says Wentworth, in a letter to his mas-
ter, "that my harsh usage broke his heart: they
might as well have imputed unto me for a crime
his being threescore and ten years old." Lord
Mountnorria, Vice-treasurer of Irelaud, after en-
joying for a brief space the frEeadship of Went-
worth, incurred his high displeasure, which
blighted every object upon which it chanced to
fall. The vice-treasurer was accused of extortion
and corruption; but Wentworth and his crea-
tures could not make good this chaise. A gouty
foot and some hasty words stood him in better
stead. It chanced that a relation of Lord Mount-
norris, in moving his stool, struck Wentworth's
gouty member,aDd that the accident was spoken
of at the table of Lof tna, the chancellor. " Per-
hapt' said Mountnorris, " it was done in re-
venge; but he has a brother who would not have
taken such a revenge." For these hasty words,
which were repeated by some spy, Mountnorris

■ Ai th* 0*l<nf iKTsn hid laamad him I7 tbd
p1— rtlnp, hv klH propotfld thit th«r ihnld b* a
tok*th«Mth<ifiapnBii^, »

I. 435

proceededagainst aa a "delinquent in a Ai]^A
onci tranteendetU manner against the person of
hie general aud bis majesty's authority." As he
held a commission in the Irish army, it was re-
solved to try him by a court- martial, over which
Wentworth presided as commander-in-chief.
This court sentenced his lordship to be cashiered,
to be publicly disarmed, and then to be shot. It
I not tlie intention of the lord-deputy to take
victim's life in this manner; he only wanted
to grind him to the dust — to humiliate him by
making it appear that he owed his life to bia
enemy. He recommended the prisoner to the
royal mercy, and Charles remittod the capital
part of the sentence. But Mountnorris was kept
close prisoner, separated from his wife and
children, stripped of all his offices and emolu-

Is, and treated in other respects with the
greatest harshness. But the tale of infamy is not
yet complete. Strafford wanted Mountnorris's
place of vice-treasurer for Sir AdajnLoftue; and,
knowing that such patronage was generally sold,
he placed ;CGOOO in the hand of his friend Lord
Cottington,who was to distribute it in those quar-
ters where it would prove the most effectual. " I
fell upon the right way at once," said Cottington,

turn; "whichwas, to give the money to him
that really eould do the busincas—vAicA wcu tht
king himtdf; and this hath so far prevailed, as,
by this post, your lordship will receive his ma-
jesty's letter to that effect ; so as there yon have
your business done without noise."* Soon after
this precious transaction, Wentworth came over
to pay a visit to court, where hie master received
him with open arms, but where the Earl of Hol-
land and the queen's party were intriguing to
liring about bis overthrow. After visiting his
presidency of the North, he returned to Dublin,
to lengthen and darken the list of his iniquities.
Wentworth, though long passed the heyday of
youth, was a notorious libertine; and one of the
victims of his seduction was the daughter of Lof-
tuB, the Lord-chancellor of Ireland, the wife of Sir
John QifTord. Sir John claimed from hisfather-
in-law, the chancellor, a large settlement on his
wife and her children. The chancellor refused.
Thereupon Wentworth offered the dishonoured
husband the resources of his Star Chamber, and
the head of the law in Ireland was brought into
the Castle Chamber at the suit of Gifiord. That
board decided against the chancellor, who chal-
lenged its authority, and maintained that the
cause ought to be tried in the ordinary courts of
law. As Wentworth was well aware of the ex-
istence of powerful enemies in court and country,
as bis connection with the lady, tlie wife of the
plaintiff, was no secret, it might have been ex-
pected that he would have been glad to let this

' Sirajfinl Laun

»Google

436

HISTORY OF EHGLAND.

[Civil a

3 MlUTABT.

delicate m&tter drop; but any opposition to hie
arbitrary will blinded him to all consideratioiia of
danger or iihame. He repi<eseated to hia nuater
that this waspemicioua contumacy; and Charles,
who hod a wonderful reverence [or Star Cham-
ber tribimals, sent him what he wished — an order
to take the seals from Loftus, to turn him out of
the council,aad to throw him into a prison until
he should submit to the award. The lord-chau-
eellor, who waa a very old servant of the crown,
appealed to Charles, but without any effect; and,
to regain hia liberty, he complied with the award
of the Caatle Chamber, aud made his submission
to the man who bad first seduced his daughter,
and then sought to enrich her by forcing money
from her parent. The outcry was now tremen-
dous, but, loud as it was, Wentworth deafened
the king's ear to it, by constajitly urging the li-
centiousness of the people's tongues, and their
pronenesa to censure all such as were by the will
of God placed in authority over them. He made
it a merit in the eyes of his maater that he was
so unpopular, which he said arose solely from his
contending to establiah and enforce his majesty's
authority,

Wentworth proposed making; a settlement on
a grand scale in Connaught, where the lands,
which had been seized for the crown, were to
be occupied by a very obedient and thoroughly
orthodox (in I&ud's sense) set of English, if
such could be found ; but there were several
serious obstacles to this scheme, and before he
could make much progrras in it the Civil war
broke out in England. He, however, made a
beginning to plantattona in Ormond aud Clare,
and this Ldiud declared to be a marvellous great
work for the honour and profit of the king, and
safety of that kingdom. It appears, however,
that Wentworth'a tyranny, both in religious and
civil matters, made the English and Scottish
emigrants, who were all Dissenters, prefer the
wilds of America to the pleasant hanks of the
Shannon.'

The lord-deputy also began a crusade against
the Preshyteriana established in Ulster. It will
be remembered that a very unsuccessful attempt
had been made to colonize that great province
in the time of Elizabeth. It is an anomaly, but
quite certain, that James met with better success
in the same enterprise. Soon after the flight of
the great Earl of Tyrone, the brave O'Doglierty,
the leader of the inaurgenliS, waa driven back to
the bogs and mountains, where lie waa killed by
a chance shot. Hia followers thereupon dis-
persed ; and nearly the whole of the country,
or 3,O0»,O0O acres, was declared to be the law-
ful prey of the crown. This enormous tract of
land WOK separateil into lots or portions, vary-

ing from SOOO to 1000 H,crea each. Th« larger
lots were reserved for undertakers, or adrentur^
ers of capital from England and Scotland, aud
for the military and civil officers. The smaller
lota were divided among these and the CathoUc
natives of the province. It was regulated that
the Scotdi and English colonists should occupy
the hilly country and all the etrt>ng positiona, and
thus isolate and gird in the native Irishj who
were to have their allotments in the plains ; bnt
this scheme was widely departed from in practice,
as the settlers naturally preferred the fertile soil
of the plains to the moors and morasses of the
mountains. Several of the native chieftuns were
allowed to retain possession of the poor and
hungry country, but some 100,000 acres were
planted by the new comers, who were chiefly
Scotch, aud who, not less by their prudence
than their bravery, kept the province in a tran-
quil state. Now Wentworth, who was called by
Laud a glorious champion of the church, and
who was resolved to make all Ireland as con-
formable as England, fiercely interfered with
the kirk of these spirited and indoatrioua colon-
ists, threw many of their elders iuto prison, and
banished many of thur ministers who would not
conform to what they considered an idolatrous
form of worship. These preachers returned to
their parent hive in Scotland, whence there soon
issued such a swarm as darkened the sun of the
house of Stuart.

During the whole of this interval the appar-
ently interminable bosiuess of the Palatinate had
engaged such a portion of public attention aa the
people of England could spare from their home
a&irs. From the first entrance into Germany
of Qustavus Adolphus, the champion of Protes-
tantism, the weak Frederick had adhered to the
victorious Swede, who had promised to reiustate
him in the Palatinate, upon condition of hia
iiolding it as a dependency and tributary of the
Swedish crown. But Oustavus Adolphua ended
hiaextraordinary career on the 6th of November,
163S,when he was killed in the battle of Liitzen,
near Leipsic. The Swedes, notwithstanding hia
loBS, gained a complete victory ; but the Palatine
Frederick saw in his death the ruin of all his
hopes, and exclaiming, with a bi-okeu heart, "It
is the will of God !" he took to his bed, and ex-
pired eleven days after at Mentz, in the thirty-
aixth year of his age. In dying he expressed a
faint hope that the King of England would ahow
hia fraternal affection (or his widow, and b« s
protector or father to hia children. But Eliza-
beth applied in the first place to the States of
Holland, as her best friend next to Heaven, im-
ploring their protection for herself and her or-
I phans ; and the States continued to herthe same
' penuona tbey had paid to Frederick. T'harlea

»Google

). 1835— Ifl

a]

sent over the E&rl of Araiidel to condole with
his sister, naA thea to proceed on a niiaaion
to the eroperor. Elizabeth was indignniit at
what she called her brother's meanDess of spirit,
and she predicted that Arundel's mission, which
was to intercede for the restoration of the Pala-
tinate to her lnno«ent children, would be alto-
gether fruitless: and so indeed it proved. Soon
after this Charles rejected a treaty proposed by
Cardinal Richelieu, in wiiich a leading clause
was tlie restitution of the Palatinate to his
nephew, and was well-nigh forming an alliance
with Spain and Austria against the Dutch, his
sister's only friends. lathe year 1635 he, for the
first time, invited into England Charles Louis
and Rupert, sous of the Palatine, whose conduct
and bebnviour, particularly in church-time, was
closely watched by Archbishop Lnud, for their
father had been hated on account of his Calvinism
or Puritanism, and it was suspected that the
taint was strong upon his children.'

In the same year tlie Dutch in league with the
French invaded Flanders by land, and invested
Dunkirk by sea. It should appear that some of
the Flemish plott«rB, upon the failure of their
secret negotiations with his English majesty, had
bargained with the United Provinces ; but the
Dutch were very odious to the common people
of Flandei's ou account of their religion, and
both they and the French troops behaved so in-
solently that the counlry people rose ngainst
them and drove theni out, while the English fleet
" persuaded powerfully the Hollanders to remove
ti-om before Dunkirk."" In the month of De-
cember, shortly after the arrival of the Princes
Charles Louis and Rupert, when Henrietta
Maria was delivered of a second daughter, the
States "sent hither to congratulate her majesty
a solemn embassy and a iioble present." But it
was not A compliment and a present of this kind
that could make up the differences between
Charles and the Dutch, or between the Dutch
and the English people; for the latter felt that
the masaacie at Amboyua, anil other injuries,
had not yet been avenged, and there was an old
and increasing jealousy about the Hollanders
fishing in their waters, and almost monopolizing
the profitable trade in herrings— circumstances
which could hardly have arisen except from their
own inferiority as fiahermen, their want of in-
dustry and enterjiriae, or the want of a proper

I lADd ttT* In Mt dlUT, "DsoMober 2i. Chrlatnm D117,
Chulo PiJniK-ftoiilor lanDind tha (onuuxuitou "1th tha kliMt
m(Wtiltalutl;h< knnlcd ■ Uttla bnJiH on the lad lHDd;lH

IrvTarM, Hid hkd ihothar vtool uhI 11 chiMod brlbn hhii to

LES I. 437

navy to protect them.* For a time the Dutch
had paid a certain sum yearly, even to King
James, for the privilege of taking herrings off
the Scottish coast, but they had now not only
ceased to make these payments, but had en-
croached in other places, and had attempted to
establish as a point of international law that the
seas and every part of them, wherever salt water
flowed, were free to them and other nations,
without any limitations as to coast lines, &c.
In this sense they had employed the great
publicist Grotius to write his Mare Liberum.
Our great Selden took up his pen and answered
Grotius, in his ti-eatise (published in 163S,} en-
titled Afare davtuin, wherein he laboured to es-
tablish the Bi'itiah right of dominion over the
narrow seas. But this was a question not likely
to be settled by the pens even of great writers ;
and in the following year, 1636, Charles, who, by
means presently to be described, had got together
a fleet, gave the command of si\ly sail to the
Earl of Northumberland,' who seised and sunk a
few of the Dutch hiissee in the northern seas,
near to the Scottish coast.

After tins asaeition of dominion over the cir-
cumjacent sens, the States hastened to acknow-
ledge the right of our island over its own friths,
bays, and shores, and agreed to pay Charles
£30,000 a-year for liberty to fish there. In the
same year Captain Rainsborough sailed with a
small squadron to the Barbary coast, where,
being assisted by the Emperor of Morocco, he
destroyed the diipping and town of Sallee,
whence during pirates had been accustomed to
watch the mouth of the Straits of Gibi-altar, and
even to extend their depredations to the English
coast. In the month of February, 1637, the
Emperor Ferdinand II., the inveterate enemy of
the Palatine Frederick, dejiarted this life, and
was succeeded by Ferdinand III., who, it was
imagined, might be more favourably disposed to-
wards the outcasts. Therefore, Charles again
despatched the pompous Earl of Arundel into
Gei-many. The embassy was of no effect,* To
free himself from the importunities of his neph-
ews, who had now been nearly two yeai-s in Eng-
land, Charles gave them /IO,UOO, with his per-
mission to make war in whatever manner they
might think fit for the recovery of their inherit-
ance.' The young men sailed to Holland with
. the assistance of Lord Ci'aven, who was cbival-

W* Ond tha king'i naphaw at Lambstli Palua "M mMma

txtmlBf VVT.' Oa*wt1w«i»iuahaa)iu»>iiitaeiilra)ii>n

.u<:hl>Ulwi>,<UmwlOihlini(lAiali«h.£a. < ITAiMact'.

Tba Dutch nat out tliliKorwuvKh tbmrMiln| murki

It lav

I andtkTonnil to wId lila bToi
In tha dlny ■boot tha •am)

bTcbblali<^

' NonliumliarUuil'a ci<niialaliin. uiidar th
■<Eiinl ou Iha !M of Hno-li.— Jtyoifr.
■ IHiJpird UHcrt.

»Google

438

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil amd Miutart.

rooBlj attached to their mother— still the Queen
of Hearts — raised an iusigDiticiint force, and
threw thoowelves into Westphalia, where there
remained about 2000 Swedish veterans still in
arms sg&iost the emperor. When the prince's
mercenaries joined the Swedes, they gained a
few trifliug advantages ; but they were driven
from tbeir siege of Lippe, and in their retreat
were intercepted by the Imperial general, Hatz-
feldL Charles Louis, the elder brother, fled like
a selfiah coward, abandoning bis friends
field; but young Rupert gave proof of that fiery
courage which the^soldieia of the English parlia-
ment afterwards experienced to their cost; he
fought till victory and escape were alike hopeless,
and then he would have died rather than sur-
render his sword, if it had not been for Lord
Craven. Charles Louis, the elector, was arrested
some time after, as he was attempting to pass in
disguise through FVauce; and Cardinal Richelieu,
with very littJe regard to his quality and high
connections, abut him up in the castle of Viu-
cennes. That great master of his craft, before
their hair-brained expedition into Westphali
bad endeavoured to drag the English into a war
with Spain, and the emperor into an alliance
offenuve as well as defensive with France ; and
Charles, who was apt to be transported with
sudden passion, and who never bad any fixed
system of foreign policy, in his first rage at the
failure of the earl-marahars negotiations in
Germany, gave ear to the charmer. But the
Spanish ambassador, who had obtained an ink-
ling of these secret negoUationa, came forward
with new delusive promises about the Palatinate,
and Charles remained firm to the advice of
Weatworth, who was of opinion that no foreign
war ought to be nudertaken until despotism was
firmly established at home.'

We may now pass to the more proximate
causes of the great Civil war — the arbitrary levy-
ing of ship-money, the trial of Hampden, and
the enforcing of the reuding of the Book of Com-
mon Prayer in Scotland. Noye, the turncoat and
attorney-general, who, according to Clarendon,
was " wrought upon by degrees by the great
persons that steered the public aifairs to be an
instrument in all their designs, turned his learn-
ing and industry to the discovery of sources of
revenue, and to the justifying of them when
found— thinking that he could not give a clearer
testimony that his knowledge in the law was
greater than all other men's, than by making
that law which all other meg believed not to be
so. So he moulded, framed, and pursued the
odious and crying project of soap, and with his
own hand drew and prepared the writ for ship-
money; both which will be the lasting monu-

ments of his fame.*' In hunting among the old
records the attorney-general found that not only
had the seaport towns been occasionally made to
furnish ships for the service of the crown, but
that even maritime counties had, in early time,
been called upon to do the same; and that, though
few,tberewereinBtancesofthe like demands being
made upon inland places. With the assistance
of the Lord-keeper Coventry, who highly ap-
proved of the project, he induced the king to re-
quire this aid of his subjects, as a right inherent
in him, and wholly independent of the parliament
And, having set on foot this arbitrary demand,
Noye died almost immediately, without propos-
ing the extreme lengths to which his scheme
was subsequently carried. The first writ was
issued by the lords of the council "for the aaea-
sing and levying of the ship-money against this
next spring," on the 20th of October, 163*. It
was signed by the king, and addreraed to the
mayor, commonalty, and citizens of London, and
to the sheriff's and good men in the said city, and
in the liberties thereof. The king commanded
tbein to prepare and bring fortli before the 1st
day of March one ship of war of 900 tons, witli
350 men at the least; one other ship of war of SOO
tons, with 260 men at the least; four other ships
of war, of 000 tons, with 200 men for each; and
another ship of war of 300 tons, with 150 men.
They were further ordered to supply these ships
with guna, gunpowder, spears, and all necessary
arms, with double tackling, and with provisions
and stores; as also to defray at their charges, for
twenty-six weeks, the meu's wages, and all other
things necessary for war. The common council
and the citizens humbly remonstrated that they
conceived that, by their ancient liberties, char-
ters, and acta of parliament, they ought to be
freed from any such charges; but the privy council
scorned their remonstrance, aud compelled them
submit. At the bt^uning of the following
year, 1635, the writs, after being served along
the sea-board, were sent into the inland counties,
with very comprehensive instructions signed by
I^ud, Juxon, Coventry, Cottingtou, and the
rest of the privy council. Money was ssked for
instead of ships, at the rate of £3300 for every
ihip; and the local magistrates were empowered
M assess all the inhabitants for a contribution.
The sheri^ were enjoined to regulate thA pay-
ments so as to be most equal and agreeable to
the inhabitants of their counties; but, when any
person refused or ueglect«d to pay, they were
without delay to execute the writ, causing dis-
tresses to be made, aud their goods to be sold for
payment of their assessments and the just charges
arising therefrom. His majesty had not made
up his mind whether bis clergy should be taxed

' Strajani [ttliri; D'E«

I and ttttm: OvU.

»Google

A ». 1635— 1638.J CHAI

or not, but WBH pleased that, for the present,
they should be asBessed for this service, but with
great care and caution.

But all this gilding of tlie pill could not make
people Bwalloir it; and roanj, espeaally of ttie
gentrj, expressed great discontent at this
asMBsment, as an irapoaitjon agsinst law and the
rights of the subject.' For a time, however, all
oppo^tion waa overpowered or intimidaited bj
the bold front of the government. The deputy*
lieutenants of Devonshire wrot« to the council
in behalf of some inland towns, that thej might
be spared from this tax, which thej called a
novelty : they were dragged up to London, and
severely reprimanded for what the coimcil con-
sidered their impertinent interference. The peo-
ple in some of the little seaports on the Sussex
coast abaolatelv refused to pay ship-money, hot
they submitted when they found that extensive
powen had been given to the sheriffs, and that
their goods would be seized. This was at the
firat blush of the eitperiment; but when it was
carried out and tried all over the country, there
did not appear, for a short time, any more stre-
nuons and courageous resistance. The timid
knew that to remonstrate, however respectfully,
was to incur persecution — sach had been the
course pursued during the whole reign; the un-
thinking multitude of the people in easy circum-
stances looked at the smallneBs of the amount de-
manded &om them, and considered it not worth
the trouble and certain expense of a dispute with
the government — not reflecting that the present
attempt was but a gentle fingering of the public
purse, an experiment to ascertain how the peo-
ple of England would part with their money at
the call of the crown without consent of parlia-
ment. In this sense, to a thinking patriot, a
sixpence ought to have been as important as
£1000; and many men, presently, viewed the
case in its true light. In several places actions
were brought against those who bad forcibly
collected the ship-money; and the judges of as-
size, who had been instnicted to inculcate the
duty of submission, were not listened to with
mticb respect Then Okarles demanded from the
twelve judges an extra-judicial opinion, in order
that he m^ht have the appearance of proceeding
according to law. The case was submitted to
them in these words: — "When the good and
safety of the kingdom in general is concerned,
and the whole kingdom In danger, whether may
not the king, by writ under the great seal of
England, command all the subjects of our king-
dom, at their charge, to provide and furnish such
a number of ships, with men, victuals, and muni-
tion, and for such time as we shall think fit, for
the defence and safeguard of the kingdom from

LES I. 439

' such danger and peril, and by law compel the
doing thereof, in case of refusal or refractoriness?
And whether, in such ease, is not the king the
sole judge both of the danger, and when and
how the same is to be prevented and avoided J"
It appears that two of the judges were doubtful
as to the point whether the kin^ should be sole
judge of the danger, but the rest started no dif-
ficulty of any kind, and, in the end, they unani-
mously returned an answer in the aflirmative to
every part of the royal question. It is said that
the king obtained this opinion from the jndgM
bydectaring that it was merely for his own private
satisfaction, nnd not meant to be binding or to
be published; but it was forthwith, and by his
order, read publicly in the Star Chamber (now
the centre of all business) by the Lord-keeper
Coventry. Yet this publishing of the opinion
of the judffCB of the land rather provoked than
quieted resistance. Richard Chambers, that cou-
rageous London merchant, who bad already suf-
fered so much in the good cause, had brought
an action against the lord-mayor for imprisoning
him on account of hisrefusal to contribute. The
mayor had pleaded the king's writ as a special
justification ; and the plaintiff had been refused ,
a hearing by Berkeley, one of the judges of the
King's Bench, who had declared that there was
a rule of law and a rule of government, and that
many things which might not be done by the
rule of law might be done by the rule of govern-
ment Charles, and I^nd, and Wentworth would
have canonized such an upright judge as this ;
who afterwards declared in a charge to the grand
jury of York, that ship-money was an insepara-
ble flower of the crown. But foul and arbitrary
as was the judgment seat, there was one, a wealthy
English gentleman, of the true old Saxon stock,
that was resolute to face it and expose it, and,
thereby, aided by his own importance in the
country aod by troops of friends entertainingthe
same high notions, to bring the whole question
to issue.

This man was the immortal John Hampden,
one of the few living gentlemen of England that
could trace their family in an unbroken line
from the Saxon times. He was born in 1594, and
in his infancy succeeded to his father's immense
estates, situated chiefly in the county of Buck-
ingham. He studied at Oxford (at a time when
lAud wa«i master of St. John's) and then in the
Inner Temple, where he made himself acquMuted
with the common law. His mind was well stored
with literature, his manners refined, his persou
Httd countenance impressive and handsome. Even
from the testimony of his bitterest enemies he
may be safely set down as one of the most ac-
complished gentlemen of that time, as one whose
great moral courage was accompanied by a »"»■'

»Google

4*0

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[ClHL A

> MlUTARr.

winniDg amiitbilttj of temper. Wlien a mere \
Btripliog he had tbe good sense to despise hon-
ours and titles, which then flowed from Huch ft
sullied source, and to overrule the silly vanity of
his mother, who yearned toBeehim made ft lord,'
a promotion lAea (as his mother ought to hsve
known, for it was in King Jamea's time) attniu-
able only through money or a base favouritiBm.
In 1619 Hampden married a young lady of a
good family in Oxfordshire, to whom he was
ever tenderly attached ; and,
shunning the city and the court,
he led the enviable life of a
country gentleman, endeared
to his tenantry and to all his
neighbours, amusing himself
with his books and field sports.
But, in 1621, when the whole
nation was indigniuit at the dis-
graceful government of James,
and when that sovereign was
compelled, by want of money,
to meet the parliament, Hamp-
den took his seat in the House
of Commons as member for
Grampound, then no rotten
borough, but a place of some
wealth and importance. It was
at the same time that that
"great, brave, liad man,' Went-
worth, first entered the House
of Commons, and being then,
or pretending to be, like Hamp-
den, most zealous for the reform
of abuses, and for securities
against the encroachments of
the prerogative, the two an-
cient-descended and wealthy
commoners became associates
and friends. Wentworth was
the more confident, boldly
spoken, and eloquent of the two, j.itih n.

and from the first he spoke
frequently in the house: Hampden had a cooler
judgment, and the l>etter sagacity; he was less
eloquent, a great deal less confident, and for a long
time he spoke rarely and briefly, modestly attend-
ing to learn the duties of a parliamentary life,
and working industriously in the committees. At
the same time he cultivated the closest intimacy
with the learned Selden, the indefatigable and
daring Pym, the undaunted Eliot, and other

' " ir sTsr m^ KHi will nek for htt honniir, Mil bim now to
ooins ; /«■ *EFT it tmilliltiila nf Innli a-raaling. ... I am mn.

—Ma. l«l«, <rritt«i ■bout the jttt IMl. from Mn. Elfi»t»lh
Kiunvdfll to Uc AnthonrKnyntt.uqnatodrrDinHarl Collact.,
Brit, HlU-.bj Lord Ndgi-nt-— Sdpk MfmorialKif Jotin hainp-

men of that stamp. If, as a school, it was not
perfect, this was certainly one of the most favour-
able and noble uf schools for the training of a
young patriot. In the parliament of 1624 Hamp-
den again took his seat for Grampound. In \GiA,
when Charles summoned his first parliament, he
was returned for the borough of Wendover, a
toB-n in the neighbourhood of his pat«mal es-
tates, which bad just before recovered its right,
partly through his own exertions, to be represen-
ted in the House of Commons.

In the next parliament, which
met after Buckingham's euter-
jirise agfunst Cadiz, Hampden
was again returned for Wen-
dover; and he was engaged on
. several of those memorable
committees whith shook bolh
the favourite And the king.
On the breaking np of that
parliament, when Charles set
on foot his forced loan, Hamp-
den resolutely refused to con-
tribute ; and, on being asked
why, he made this carious and
striking reply: — "That he could
be content to lend as well as
others, but feared to draw upon
himself that curse in Magna
Charta which should be read
twice ft-year against tho«e who
infringe it." The privy conucil,
refusing his own recogniaince
to appear at the boMil, sent
him a close prisoner to the
Qate-house. After appearing
before titese willing tools of des-
potism, and refusing again to
pay Ilia money without warrant
of parliament, he was relegated
to one of his moDor-houaes in
■KTTtts ^ Hampshire. But in 1626, made

more conspicuous by bis suf-
ferings in the cause uf liberty, Hampden again
took his seat for Wendover, and was one of
the most important debaters and committee
men during that most important and stormy
session. In 162M, when the reforming party
was indignant at the desertion of Wentworth.
Noye, and others, Hampden took his sent again,
and became more conspicuous in parliament
than he had ever been before. He was now

' From tbe ttntuB bj J. H. Poloy, A.R.A.. in St Bupbm'i
Hull. N'eir Pilus at Wntiuiiiiiter. Tlitt partioD m tbs Nh

and fmrn thil to tb> Koiin of Fiut mkI Rdhh of Ccouhhb
It fUnda DD tbe Ipol whfirfl th« Hooh of Gcnnnwiu Mood for
ma-ny canturin, md ii adonieil with lUtdcaDf mm wbo row (<■
sminaim b; the elA(niinc« uid ibililm which tbaj diifiliT*^ In

»Google

A.D. 1633—1638.] C

in Ilia thirty-fifth year, in the prime Mid vigour
of manhood ; and the country had learned to
alder him ha a champion thut no tyranny could
intimidate, that nothing conld corrupt. At the
end of that short session he saw his friends Eliot,
Selden, HoUia. nod others, commitljid to the
Tower. Hampden again retired into private
looking forward with a confident hope for the day
when the despotic principle should be carried to
iC« excess, and when the patriotic band should
awake like giants refreshed by a long sleep, and
crush the hydra at once and for ever. From
his pleasant solitude in Buckinghamshire he cor-
responded with his "honoured and dear friend
Sir John Eliot, at his lodging in the Tower;*'
and he performed almost the part of a father by
the captive's two sons. He returned to the stu-
dies of his earlier life, and more particularly to
thom of constitutional law and history. Fore-
seeing the consequences of Charles's proceedings,
he made himself familiar with the works of the
great Italian historians, who had treated like
soldiers and statesmen, as they were, the con-
vulsions and campaigns that had occurred in
Italy, in France, and iu the Low Countries. lie
also frequented the Lord Falkland's house at Tew
— "that college situate in a purer air"'^ — for
the high-minded Falkland and Hampden, whose
names are coupled in an immortal verse, were
then near and dear friends, wishing alike for
the improvement of government both in church
and state. At Tew Hampden was wont to meet,
among other distinguished men, the learned,
witty, and original Dr. Earies, fellow of Merlon
College ; Dr. Morley, afterwards the eicellent
Bisliop of Winchester; and Dr. Hales, the Greek
professor of Oxford, who was still more distin-
guished by gentleness and toleration than by liis
great learning. To men of this temper and taste,
the persecution then so actively carried on by Laud
must have appeared most odious and unwise.

In 1634 Hampden lost liis beloved wife, and
his mind, which had always been of a religious
turn, beaime more serious and devout under
the pressure of affliction. He was taxed with
Puritanism, as were all men who entertained
liberal opinions in politics, or who disliked the
new church ceremonies, and the inquisitorial
proceedings of the primate. When Cliarles de-
manded ship-money, Hampden resolved to make
a bold and decisive stand, and he refused pay-
ment. He had taken advice in this great buai-
nesa from Holbome, St. John, Whitelock, and
others of his legal friends, as to the means of
trying the issue at law. Encoumged by his en-
ample, thirty other freeholders of his parish, of
Great Kimble, in Buckinghamshire, refused pay-

LES I 44]

ment. Almost as soon as the opinion of the
judges on the It^lily of ship-money was retwul-
ed, the crown lawyers were ordered by the king
to proceed in the Conrt of Excheqaer against
Hampden, as the chief defaulter. The point in
law was argued in Michaelmas term, 1637, on
the part of Hampden by Oliver St John and

I 8h Huapden'a i
' Clundon, Bit

Vol II.

itocimph IMUr in Lwl N ufdiVi >

OuTtn Bt. Jouh.— ARar C. Tmimn

Robert Holbome— on the part of the crown by
the attorney -general, Sir John Bankef, of Corfa
Castle, and the solicitor-general, Sir Edward
Littleton. The cause began on the 6th of No-
vember, and lasted to tJie 18th of December.
All the judges were pi-esent, and particularly
argued this great point on the bench. Accord-
to the courtiera, this was a miserable stir
about twenty paltry shillings — for this, and no
:, mas the sum demanded from Hampden ;
but the men who loved their country looked to
it as the manly assertion of a great and holy
principle, as the weightiest cause that could be
decided between the sovereign and the people.
The crown lawyers insisted on ancient precedents
from the Saxon times downwards, and they di-
lated upon the fairness and lightness of the im-
post and the pittance demanded from the wealthy
Mr. Hampden.' On the other hand, Hampdeu'a
counsel maintained that the law and constitution
of England had sufficiently provided for the de-
fence of the kingdom without the novelty of
ship-money. St. John went on to urge the use-
fulueas and power of parliaments as summoned
by the old sovereigns In times of danger. The
Kings of England, he observed, in moments of
danger, had ever had recourse to tbeir parlia-
ments, and the aids demanded by them and
granted by parliament were tnoat numerous. If

I

US

,v Google

412

niSTOKY OF EN^GLAND.

[Civil akd MiLiTARr.

they h&d uaumed the right of judging of the
danger, and providing for it of their own right,
by exacting money from the subject, this could
hardly have been the case, it being "rare
•ubject, and more ho in a prince, to ask and t»ke
u a ^ft, that which he might and ought to have
of right, and that, too, without bo much as a
salvo or declaration of hia right." The very ask-
ing of benevolencea and loans proved that the
crown possessed uo general right of taxation,
it had poaaeased such a right it would have taTed
and not borrowed. The loans of former times
had in some wises been repaid exprensly to clear
the king's conscience, ad txoiura^viurn wmtitn-
tiam. And that very arbitrary prince Henry
Till., who felt it ineonvenient to repay what he
bad borrowed, conld not sit down with a com-
fortable mind till he had obtained from parlia-
ment actfl to release him from the obligation.
Hampden's advocates relied upon Magna Charta,
and especially upon the Confimiatio Chartarttm
of Edward I., which clearly abrogated for ever
all taxation without consent of parliament ; and
they made still more account of the famous stat-
ute De Tallagio ncn Concedendo of Edward IIT.
That warlike sovereign bad often infringed this
right of the subject, but the parliament never
OMaed to remonstrate, and, in the end, the con-
queror of France was obliged to conform to the
law. lu the second year of Richard II., when
the realm was in imminent danger of a formid-
able invasion from France, the privy council
ealleii together the peers and other great men,
who freely lent their own money, but declared
that they could not provide a sufficient remedy
without chaiging the commons, which could not
be done out of parliament, and therefore advised
the immediate summoning of a parliameut. This
precedent was etrong against the plea of peril and
necessity, on which the defenders of ahip-monej
wished to make it appear that they relEed. But St.
John and Holborue met that specious ptea more
directly. They stated broadly the overwhelm-
ing force of actual war and invasion which had
power to silence for the time of danger even the
aacred voice of the law: they admitted that, in
an invasion, or the immediate prospect of one,
the rights of private individuals must yield to
the safety of the whole ; that the sovereign, and
even each man in respect of his neighbour, might
then do many things that would be illegal at
other seasons. 9uch had been the case in 1588,
when the liberties and religion of the people
were put in jeopardy by the Spanish Armada.
But nom there was no danger ; England was at
peace with all the world, and tlie piracies of a
few Turkish corsairs and the insolence of some
rival states could not be reckoned among those
instant perils for which a parliament would pro-

vide too late. But, after all, their great and
unanswerable argument was founded, not upon
precedents and rolls of ancient times, "when all
things concerning the king's prerogative and the
subject's liberties were upon uncertainties,"' but
upon the Petition of Right, which was not yet
ten years old ; and, as it has been well remarked,
Charles himself was fully aware of the restric-
tions which that statute imposed when he so un-
willingly but solemnly gave bis assent to it and
passed it into a law. Bythis assent he renounced
all gifts, loans, benevolences, taxes, or any such
like charge, without common consent by act of
parliament. This was his own deed — his own
contract — let the proceedings of his predecessors
be what they might. It aweptawayall contrary
precedents — it stood armed at all points against
any such imposition as ship-money — its voice
was so loud and clear that the meanest intellect
could comprehend it. But the court lawyers
thought to overlay it with words — to bury it
under the weight of the late attorney-general's
musty records. "J shall insist," said Sir John
Bankes, "upon precedents, and herein I shall
desire you to take notice that these writs have
not issued out at the first upon any sudden ad-
vice, but that there was a great search made, first
by my predecessor Mr. Noye, a man of great
learning and profound judgment ; other searches
made by the king's counsel, and some others ;
and a great nuniber of records were considered
of, and maturely, before these writs issued ; so
nothing was done upon the sudden." He quoted
instances — all very old ones— and cavilled on tho
mora modem and intelligible statutes. But this
was not enough to serve their purposes, and to
Bankes and his colleagues uiiblushingly took
their stand on the position that the monarchy of
England was an absolute tnonarchy, that the
]iower of Charles was above all law, and statutes,
and parliamentary devices. " This power,* ox-
claimed the attorney -general, "is not any ways
derived from the people, but reserved unto the
king, where positive laws first began. For the
Kingof England, he is an absolute monarch; no-
thing can be given to an absolute prince bat
what is inherent in his pereon. He can do no
wrong. He is the sole judge, and we ought not
to question him. Where the law trusts we ought
not to distrust." The acts of parliament, ha ob-
served, contained no exjKcss words to takeaway
so high a prerogative ; and the king's prerog^
tive, even in lesser mattera, ia always saved,
where express words do not mtrain it Whsn
Charles instructed or allowed his crown lawyen
to talk in this strain, he ought to have been pre-
jMred to back them witli a regular army of a
hundred thousand men. But Bankes was just

,v Google

A.i>. 1635-1638 ] CHAE

and moderate compared to Bonie of the judges.
" This imposition," said Justice Crawlejr, "apper-
ttuiu to the king origimitly, and to the Buccessor,
ipto facto, if be be » iov«reigti, in right of hie
sovereignty from the crown. You cannot have
a kiDg without these royal rights : do, not bj act
of parliament.* Holbome had pleaded the oon-
Btitutional doctrine and pr&ctice, that the sove-
reign could take DOthingfrom the people without
consent of their representativea. "Mr. Holborue
is utterly mistaken therein," exclaimed Justice
Berkeley. "The/awknowa no such king-yoking
policy ! The lam is itaelf an old and tnutg aer-
vant of Iht king's; it is kU inatnimeut or means,
which he useth to govern his people by. I never
read nor heard that Itx was rex; but it is com-
mon aod most true that rex is f«j;.* And yet
aU the judges were not so prompt and resolute
aa the court wished. Even Finch and Crawky
thought it decorous to prolong the diacossion,
and the business waa dr^g^ through the three
following terms. In Hilary tern, 1636, there
waa an appearance of nnantmity ; but by Easter
term the judges differed, and Croke boldly con-
cluded againat ahip-raoney. Croke had signed
the answer to the king's question with the rest,
bat it was out of a fear of consequences. The
loss of place waa then generally attended by such
petflecutions as might daunt a man not constitu-
tionally timid. The judge saw a prison for him-
self, poverty and want for his family, if he re-
sisted the royal wilt ; but his high-minded wife,
who was equally aware of this danger, encoui^
aged him to encounter it. "She was," says
Whitelock, "a very good and pious woman, and
UAA her hnstand upon this occasion, that she
hoped he would do nothing against hia conscience,
for fear of any danger or prejudice to him or
Ilia family ) and that she would be contented
to suffer want or any misery with him, rather
than be an occasion for him to do or say any-
tiiing against his judgment and conscience.*' So
long as there were English wivu Mid mothers of
tills brave sort, the liberties of the country were
not to be deapured of. Justice Hutton joined
Croke, and when Justice Jonea treated the matter
somewhat doubtingly, deciding for the king, but
with the condition that no portion of the ship-
money should ever go to the privy purse, he man-
fully denied the legality of the tax, and advised
that judgment should be given for Hampden.
Bat, in Trinity term, on the 11th day of June,
1638, the attorney-general — aa the sentence of
the majority of the judges was still for the king
— moved for judgment to be entered against Hr.
Hampden ; and on the following day, judgment
waa entered in the Court of Exchequer.* The

I. 443

opposition, however, that had been made by two
of the judges went to deepen the impression al-
ready made by the trial. The government could
longer get money from the sheriffs of counties,
everywhere men took heart. " Hampden,"
says Clarendon, " by the choics of the king's
counsel, had brought his cause to be first heard
and argued; and with that judgment it was in-
tended that the whole right of the matter should
be concluded, and all other cases overruled.""
Thus, the Lord Say, who had refused ahip-
money, and excited a spirited opposition in War-

' ikshire, was denied a trial when be aaked for
it. But Clarendon is fain to confess that the
sentence procured against Hampden did not set
the question at rest ; that, on the contrary, it
stirred up resistance to ship-money, or, aa he ex-
presses it^"it is notoriously known, that prea-
was borne with much more cheerfulness be-
fore the judgment for the king than ever it was
after." Archbishop IavA seems to have thought
that this was owing to Justices Croke and Hut-
on, who according to him, had both "gone
igainst the king vrry louiiy.''^

The sympathizing Wentworth, it appears,
thought that matters might be mended by whip-
ping Hampden, like Prynue or Lilbume. " 1^.
Hampden,' says he to his dear friend the arch-
biahop, "is a great brother;' and the verygeuios
of that nation of people leads them always to
oppose, both civilly and ecclesiastically, all that
authority ordains for them. But, in good
faith, were they rightly served, they should be

hipped home into their right wits ; and mnch
beholden they should be to any that would
thoroughly take pains with them in that sort**

The coort crowded a vast deal of tyranny and
cruelty into the interval of time between the
opening and closing of this trial, but it did not
venture to scourge and mutilate the English gen-
tleman who was now regarded as a Pattr Patrice,
and as the pilot who must steer the vessel through
the tempests and rocks that threatened it.' At
the same time Hampden's prudence and modera-
Uon, which ere highly praised by all his con-
tenpomries, of whatsoevei- party, prevented his
f^ving any hold to the arbitrary council, who
longed at least for an opportunity of committing
him to the Tower, where his honoured and dear
friend, Sir John Eliot, was wearing out in sick-
ness the last years of his life.

Chbf.JiaMMOtUiaRlnf'iBgDdi.uidDlvnpoR,

L in Cttftrtu- of Hudpdon. Thfl oourt nu^gvitj
oTHTninnililiidDr Pinoh, ChlarjiuUn at tha Conman Pltu,
JoDH, B«k«i«T, Vtmon, Cmwlnj, Tnrer, ind W«rtno.

'aimon/afOmenatlMMin. * arafflinHMm.

• Puiltu. • ar^rd liiUrt.

' CUrmdoa, ffUtiry << Mi Onof MtbMia*.

»Google

niSTOBT OF ENGLAND.

JClVIL AJTD MlUTlRT.

CHAPTER X.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. l$37-163ft

CHAKLES I.

Diihubuioci in Soatluid— ImporitioD of th« Engluh Book of Cliaroh Sorriea on tha Booto^Kot in Edinbtujli
from ibflftttompi — Cbu'lu uid l^nd peniil in enforcing the lerrice-book in SooUuid — Tbe kin^s penmptorT
nrdo* to th*t affect— Tha Biihop of OallawaT mobbed in Edinhnrgh— EaUbluhmaat of tbe "Four lUila" id
Edinbnrgh— Froccedinga oftliio furm of natioiui] retiatance — Ita " Covenant " — Eneisr and eSwtiTeneia of iti
gOTanunant—Itg adherent! called "CoTeiianten"— The Uarqnii of Hamilton comniieaiaDed b; the king M
quell the rerolt-Hamiltori'i arrival in ScotUnd— Slrensth and reaolatioii of the Oovenau ten- Hamilton
UDinoccaafully attempt! to teinporiu—He negotiatea with the CoreDaatera — Hia endoaionr! to aet aiid* llie
CoTanant — Shiftins and double-dealing of Charlea in thiwe proceeding! — PreparatioD! on both lidea for nr—
Qaneral aaaeiablf held at GLugow— Harquii of Hamilton'! condnot at the aHembly aa e<Hnuii!Bioner— Hii
deceitful propoaal! ou the part of the king — Alexander Hendenon appointed moderator bj tbe aMOnblj—
Hamilton proteati afaioit ita proceedingi — Hii letter to tbe king dvcribing the atate of affair* — Hii aeooiut
of the Scottish biihops and ooblei — Hii deoanciatioiu of hi! countrj and ita people — He attempta to dianlTe
the aaaamblj — Tha aoembly abaliihee Episcopacy in Scotland— Active preparations for war — The Scottiib
■oldiert in the Swediib army recalled— Oaneral Leslie appointed commander-in-chief of the Covenanten—
Unprepaied condition of Charln for the war — Hia difflcultica in raiiiiig auppliee — Sncomful uiilitarj open-
tiona of the Corenantflra in ScotUnd— The Harquia of Hamilton aant with an army agaioat them— Futility
of the expedition — Charlea repairs to the acsne of action — The Coveiuiuten encounter hia tioopa on the Botdtr
— Negotiatiooa between Charlea and tha Seota — Cenoeeaiona of Cbarlca — Tbe anniea diabanded- The Earl
of Traqnair inoceeda Hamilton aa royal eommiiaioner- Hia initructiona from tha king — Frepantiou of
Cbarlei to renew the war — Bopeleea proapcct of hia affaira.

f T thia time the storm hod arisen
I in the north. The new ^eryice-
book was Bent out at the begin-
L ning of the year 1637, and ap-
f pointed to be read iu all Scotch
*j churches from the Easter Sunday.
The Scota m^ntained that the aovereign could
not impose a liturgy without consent of their
own parliament, and their murmurs were bo
loud that the experiment was put off from Easter
to Sunday the 23d of July, when the dean of
Edinburgh began to read the book in St. Giles's
Kirk, which had been recently converted by Laud
iuto a cathedml church. The people, full; pre-
pared, had gathered in crowds from many parts.
The archbishops and bishops, the lords of session,
and the magistrates were all present by com-
mand. No sooner had the dean opened the ser-
vice-book and begun to read, than the people
filled the church with uproar, clapping their
hands, uttering execrations and outcries, raising
a hideous noise and hubbub. The Bishop of
Edinburgh, who was to preach that day, stepped
intii the pulpit, and tried to appease the tumult
by reminding them of tbe holiness of the place ;
but this increased the storm instead of allaying
it, and presently a joint-stool was thrown at the
bishop's head, but diverted by the hand of one
present- luckily diverted— for, though thrown
by the arm of a woman, it was thrown with such
Ttgonr, that the general opinion was, that had it
bit him, suppoung his skull to be only of ordi-

nary thickness, the stool must have killed Uia
bishop. Sticks, stones, dii-t followed the stool,
with cries of "Down with the priest of BailT
"A pape, a pape!" "Antichrist!" " Tliiapple
him!" "Stone him!" The Archbishop of St
Andrews (lord-chancellur), and other great per-
sons, then attempted to restore order, but thej
had no reverence from the multitude, who cursed
them, together with the bishop and dean. Then
the provost, the baillies, and others of the clt;
authorities, came forili from their places, and
with much ado and in terrible confusion cleared
the church of the chief of those people that bad
made the tumult, aud shut the church doors
a^inst them. And the dean began to read the
service anew, but such were the outcries, rapping
at the doors, throwing in of stones at the windows,
by the multitude without, who still kept crying
"A pape, a pape!" "Antichrist!" "Poll bin)
down!" that the baillies of the city were agaJn
obliged to leave their places to appease the fury.
At last the service and sermon were both ended,
but not the people's rage : the Bishop of Edin-
burgh, who had preached the sermon, on leaviDg
the church for his residence, distant not many
paces, was surrounded by the multitude, csat
down and nearly trodden to death. The same
morning the new service was read in another
church adjoining to St. Giles's, yet not without
a tumult, and in the Grayfriars' Church ttio
Bishop-elect of Ai^le, who began to read it,
was hooted and threat«ned, and forced to give

»Google

AD. 1637—1639.] CHAR

over after coiuing to the coufeaaion and abaolu-
tioD. Between mominK and afternoon service
the provocrt and bailliesof Edinburgh were sum-
moned before the privy council, who assembled at
the lord-chaneellor'a, and undertook to do their
utmost for the peaceable reading of the pnijers
ill the af terooon. Accordingly the cUnrches were
kept tolerably quiet by keeping out the people
altogether; but after service the tumult was far
greater than in the morning; and the Earl of
Itoxbargh, lord-jirivy eeal, who undertook to
carry the bishop home from 8t Giles's in his
coach, was so pelted with stones, and so pressed
upon by the mob, who wanted to drag out the
"priest of Baal," that he was obliged to order
Ills footmen and numerous attendants to draw
their swords ; and thus he and the bishop At last
got into the palace of Holyrood, covered with
dirt and curses.

On the following day the council issued a pro-
clamation in detestation of this tumult, and to
forbid all tumultuous meetings and concourse of
people to Edinbut^h, upon pain of death. The
magistraten pretended to deplore the disturban-
ces; and they stated that no persons of quality
hod appeared in them. In truth, the rioters had
been for the most part women and children of the
poorest condition. The town council, however,
thought fit to suspend the reading of the new
service till his majesty's further pleasure should
be known, seeing it was so dangerous to the
readeta.' For this they were harshly rebnked
by lAud, who told them, through the Earl of
Tnquair, Lord-treasurer for Scotland, that his
majesty took it very ill that the businpas con-
cerning the establishment of the service-book
had been so weakly carried, and had great rea-
son to think himself and his government dishon-
oured by the late tumult in Edinburgh. "And,
therefore," continues the English primate, " his
majesty expects that your lordship and the rest
of the honourable council set yourselves to it,
that the liturgy may be established orderly, and
with peace to repair what liath been done amiss." '
At the some time aeveral of the Scottish lords,
not content with denying all share in the prayer-
book, quarrelled violently with the new bishops
and the most stirring of the anti-Presbyteriim
clergy. Traqoair himself complained to the Mar-
quis of Hamilton, who was at court, and still
high in the royal favour, that some of the lead-
ing men among them were so violent and for-
ward, had such a want of righ t understanding
how to compass business of this nature
weight, that they bred the Scottish government

* liind'a IMUr to Tmiuli, in AuMirorlA Bonu
>«M h*d ban mid* In tlu Beottlih Lltnisr— 1»

I. 445

many difficulties.' But Laud and Charles would
listen to no complaints against the new bishops ;
and, urged on by them, the Scottish council is-
sued a decree of "horning," or banishment, against
all such ministers as refused to receive the new
Book of Common Prayer, " out of curiosity and

ignlarity." Alexander Henderson, ministei- at
Leuchars, Mr. John Hamilton, minister at New-
bum, and Mr. James Bruce, minister of Kings-
barus, petitioned against this harsh sentence
with great good sense and moderation, and with

total abstinence from fanaticism. They told
the lords of secret council that they had been
wiUing enough to receive the said books to read
them beforehand, in order to see what doctrine
they coutaiued, without which knowledge they
' 1 not adopt them ; tliat, in the mattei-s of
God's worship, they were not bound to blind obed-
ience to any man; that the said Book of Common
Prayer was neither authorised by the general
assembly, the representative kirk of the king-
dom, which ever since the Beformatioii had given
directions in matters of worship, nor by any act
of parliament, which had been ever thought ue-
iry in high matters of this kind ; that they,
upon a competent allowance of time, would un-
dertake to prove it departed widely from the
doctrine of the Beformation, and in points most
material came near to the Church of Borne;
and, finally, that the people of Scotland had been
otherwise taught by themselves and their prede-
cessors in the pnlpit, and, therefore, it was likely
that they would be found averse to the sudden
change, even if their pastors adopted it. Laud's
own bishop, the Bishop of Boss, gave a very
short answer to these petitioners. He told them
that, while they pretended ignorance of what was
contained in the book, it appeared by their many
objections and exceptions to it, that they were
but too well read in it, pdbeit they hod abused it
pitifully. He assured the ministers that the ser-
vice-book was neither superstitious nor idola-
trous, but, on the contrary, one of the most
orthodox and perfect liturgies in the Christian
church, and that therefore they most accept it,
and read it, or bide their horning.*

Charles, to punish the inhabitants of the good
old town, sent down ordere for the removing o{
the term, or session, and the council of govern-
ment from Edinburgh to Linlithgow, the next
term to Stirling, the next to Dundee, &e., toge-
ther with a fresh proclamation, commanding the
Presbyterians to disperse immediately, and re-
tnm to their homes, under pain of being treated
as wicked and rebellious subjects, and with ttti
order for calling in and burning a seditious book,
I entitled A DiiptUe agaitut iht EngliMk Popish

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

446

Ceremonia, tAliitded upon tAe Kiri of
The cotmcU would have delayed the pQblication
of the turbitmrj decrees; but CharlM's orden
were pei-emptor^, and they were all read at the
market-croas. The Earl of Trsqnair communi-
cated a part of the immediate rtault to the Mar-
quis of Hamilton. "The noblemen,'' sajra he, "the
gentry, and commisBioners from preabyteriee and
burghs, aeemed to acquiesce herewith, and every
man, in a rery peaceable manner, to give obedi-
ence to the tenor of the proclamation ; bat the
next day thereafter, the town of Edinburgh, or,
as our new magistrates call it, the rascally peo-
ple of Edinburgh (although their sisters, wives,
children, and near kinsmen, were the special
actors), rose in such a barbarous manner, as the
like has never been seen in this kingdom, set
upon the Bishop of Galloway, and with great
difficulty was he rescued into the large council-
house." At last, the gentlemen and cleigymen
who bad come up to present the petition, and
who had been opprobriously ordered out of the
town, used their good officM to prevent blood-
shed, and, by their influence and persuasion, res-
cued the bishop, the council, and the magistrates
from the hands of the rioters. It was observed,
however, that the friends and relations of these
rery magistrates were in the mob ; that citizens
of the best repute, with their wires and their
usters, were actively engaged, and that many
well-known gentlemen openly joined tha people
in their cries and denunciations. It was, there-
fore, no longer possible to represent the disaffec-
tion as a thing of no consequence — as a mere
outbreak of the lowest and poorest, who might
easily be brought to reason by a little hanging
and scourging. And nearly at the same Ume
the city of Glasgow became the scene of a simi-
lar rising against tha pr«yer-book and Episco-
pate. But Charles and Laud, though warned by
the Scottish ministers of the fierce and dangeroua
spirit of the people — of the daily accesuon to
their eauae of men of rank and ability — of the
defenceless state of Edinburgh Castle and the
other fortresses — of the poverty of the exchequer
— were resolved to go "thorough," and that too
without admitting of any delay. Apprehending
that the king meant to deprive Edinburgh for
ever of its honours and advantages as the seat of
government, the citizens of that ancient capital
became more incensed than ever; and it was soon
made to appear that Charles had committed a
fatal mistake in exciting their jeabusy in this
particular. Before the removal of the session
from Linlithgow to Stirling, the"FourTables,''or
hoards, an we should now call them, were estab-
lished with the acquiescence of the Scottish coan-
cil, which were representative committees, con-

[Civil amd Miutart.

sisting rwpectively of lords, gentlemen, ministers,
and burgesses, and which were to be fixed per-
manently in the capital. With these tables in
Edinburgh there corresponded leaser tables, or
sub-committees, in the country, a constant com-
munication being established among them all.
Above all these tables wss a general table, which
consisted of members taken from each, and which
was intrusted with somethingvery like a supreme
executive power. In the course of a very few
weeks these tables were looked up to with far
more respect than the paltry government, and
they exercised an uncontrolled authority over
the greater part' of Scotland, It has been well
sud that a better echeme for organizing insiir-
rection could not easily have been devised. Tlie
contrivers of it, and the leading members of the
permanent committee, were the Lords Rothes,
Balmerino, Lindsay, Lothian, Loudon, Yester,
and Cranaton. While the king was determined to
cede nothing, the Presbyterians now almost daily
advanced their demands, and pressed them with
increa^ng pertinacity and boldness. The lord-
treasurer, the Earl of Traquair, was summoned
up to London by Charles, who examined him
sharply, and then sent him back— though his
sincerity was much doubted — with still harsher
and more despotic instructions. Traquair was en-
joined, or bound by an oath, to keep these things
secret till the veiy moment when they should be
announced by proclamation at Stirling; but the
contents of the proclamation were divulged im-
mediately, upon which the tables put themselves
into a state of preparation. The members of the
sub-committees were summoned from all parts to
meetat Edinburgh and Stirling. To disperse them
and the multitnda that Socked with them, Tra-
quair, on the 19th of February, caused the king's
proclamation to be read at Stirling, where the
council was then sitting, "condemning their irre-
gular proceedings ; imputing them rather to pre-
posterooH seal than to disaffection or disloyalty;
remitting past offences to such as should obey
his majesty's commands; discharging all future
meetinga, on pain of treason; forbidding them to
repair to Stirling, or any other place, where the
council and session sat, without notifying their
business, and olrtaining leave from the council;
and ordering strangers of all ranks to quit the
place within six hours after the proclamation,
under Uie same penalty.* But the henJd had
Bcaroely done reading this proclamation, wlien
the Lords Hume and Lindsay, acting for the
tables, published with equal solemnity, a counter-
proelamaticm, which was then fixed to the mar-
ket-cross at Stirling, and copies of it seat t« be
read and affixed in Edinburgh and Linlithgow.
Traquair, who had foreseen the mischief, wrote
to Hamilton, that bis majesty ranat now " p«r-

,v Google

A.D. 1637-1039.] CHA

ceive how mnch all aorta wd quklitiea of peopli
of Scotland were commoved."' The Preabyte-
riana, beiog now openly joined bj the moat power-
ful &nd popular noblemen of the kingdom, and
even by several membera of Charles's govem-
meut, proceeded boldlj to frame and Bul»cribe
their celebrated National Covenant, whereby
they undertAok to maintain, at all hajsards, the
old form of worehipi to maintain tlie Confeaaion
of FaitbsDbacribedby Chorlea'afatherand houae-
hold, and all ranks of people, in 1680 and 1081,
and again in 1S90. The name waa adopted from
the covenaota of Israel with God; and the nature
of the obligation was derived from the bonda of
niutaal defence and maintenance peculiar to the
nation; bnt the woi-d amenant had a moat aigni-
flcsnt and holy sense in the eats of the Scottiedi
people, who knew that that form of aaeociation
had carried their Ancestors triumphantly through
their atmggle with the Papistry. The tablea, or
standing and well-organized committees, now sum-
moned every Scotaman who valued hia kirk to
repair to the capital, there to obaerve a solemn
fast as a fitting preparation for the renewal of
the Covenant. The call was obeyed everywhere,
and Edinburgh wae presently crowded and cram-
med with fiery Presbyterians, who generally
travelled with good broad-swords. Upon the
appointed day, the 1st of March, they took ud-
dispated possenion of the High or St. Giles's
Kirk, which, in their notions, had been pro-
faned by the preaching and praying of Laud's
dean and bishop. After fervent prayers and ex-
hortationa the new Covenant was produced; the
congT^ation rose, and nobles, gentry, clergy, and
burgnses, with hands raised tovmrds heaven,
swore to ita oontenta. This memorable deed had
been prepared by Atezander Henderson, one of
the fonr ministers whose petition had been so
rudely anawered by the Bishop of Bom, and by
Archibald Johnston, an advocate, and the great
legal adviser of the party. It had also been re-
vised by the Lords Balmerino, Loudon, and Ro-
thes. Whatever other defecta there may have
been in the composition, there was no want of
power. It was, indeed, most skilfully adapted
for acting upon a proud, a devout, and enthusias-
tic people- who were about equally proud of their
national independence and their national kirk.

A few creatures of the court saw in all this
mighty enthusiasm nothing more serious than a
brief fanatic outbreak, and they assured Charles,
who ought to have remembered the history of
his grandmother and of his great^grand mother,
that it would be easily dashed and diaaipated.
This was miserably to misunderstand the charac-
ter of the Scottish people. Copies of the deed
were despatched to the different counties in the

■ Hariwitii Stan Ptnrt.

LE3 L 4i7

west and north, the popular preachers were all
warned, a fire of pulpit-batteries was opened from
John a' Groat's Uonae to the Cheviot Hills — from
Aberdeen to Tobermory, and the Cotenaht was
spoken in ita thunder. The people were roused
and excited to the utmoat; all ranks and ages
hailed the pledge of liberty and aalvation, and
the Covenant waa signed on the Sabbath in every
parish with ahonts, tears of joy or contrition,
and hearty embraces. Traquair pointed out the
only means of averting the storm. "If," says
his lordship, "his majesty would be pleased to
free thero, or give them an assurance that no no-
velty of religion shall be brought upon them, it
ia Hire the moat part of the wisest sort will be
quiet; but, without this there is no obedience to
be expected in this part of the world; and, in my
judgment, no assurance can be given them hereof,
but by freeing them of the aervice-book and Book
of Canons."'

But still Charles and Inud disregarded jhe
warning, and were determined to impose the
Common Prayer-book upon the people of Scot-
land by force of arms, llie great meeting of the
Covenanters at Edinbnrgh ditaolved tranqniUy;
but they left commisaionets behind them, and
established such intelligence among themselves
and with all parts ot the country, that they could
meet and come together at the shortest notice.
The Covenanters knew their strength and tho
mighty power they had in the sympathies of the
Puritans in the south; and they began to assert
that they were as well friended in England as
the king himself.* Wherever they encountered
opposition from any Scottish subjects, they threat-
ened them with their high displeasure and the
corse of the true kirk; nor did they always limit
themselves to threats, particularly when any of
Thud's ministers (bis bishops had all run away)
fell into their hands. There were fierce riots at
Lanark and other towns. In some places men
were thrown into priaou, or put in the stocks,
for refusing to sign. In the west country, where
Presbyterianism was the warmest, they would
give no traveller or paaaenger either meat, drink,
or lodging for his miHiey, until he first gave them
assurance t>iat he was an adherent to the Cove-

Traquair repeatedly urged that hia majesty
should hear some of hia Scottish ministers and
servants before making up his mind, or "con-
cluding fully" as to what course he ought to take
at this crisis; but, without hearing any such —
nay, without advising with his English coundl,
or with any English servant of government, ex-
cept hia fatal laud — Charles himself drew up a

m MMt Id DdlTiDpU'i Mnwrioli, <Wad Itlh

,v Google

448

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[C.V

D MlLlTARr.

commission for tlie Marquia of Hamiltou, vho
was ordered to proceed with all hnste to reduce
that "rascally people' to order. Uarailton was
herehy iDstructed to read the royal proclamation
which he l)ore to the lords of the Scottish coun-
cil, previously to publishing it, and to exact, if
he chose, a Holemn oath from each member of
that coancil to do his best to execute the procla-
matiou.' If anybody should protest a^inst this
royal proclamation, he was to treat him as a
rebel, aud apprehend him, if potiible. He was to
give a bold negative to any petitions that might

be presented by the Covenanters, both in respect
of the matter, and us coming from an unacknow-
ledged and illegal association. He was not to
press for the exact execution of laud's church
orders for the present, Imt he was to take good
care not to promise their abrogation. He was to
allow the Scots six weeks to renounce the Cove-
nant, and, if he found cause, let*. "Yon shall
deolare," continues the king, "that if there be
no sufficient strength within the kingdom to force
the refractory to obedience, power shall come
from England, and that myself will come in per-
son with them, being resolved to hazard my life,
rather than to Buffer authority to be contemned.
... If yon cannot (by the means prescribed by
us) bring back the refractory and seditious to due
obedience, we do not only give you authority, but
command all hostile acts whatsoever to be used
against them, they having deserved to be used

* Ona of th« gnul prmouticiiu ku the nmixilarihteauni,
*c., tomn Uw apltil ; jtt Ch«tl«« Myi— " Wa giia joo power

nMrt omTanitnt for out •Fiikx. Edinbiugh onlj' eiceptad, and
to ohinia the nuttlni thenar u DtUn m ocoiHn eLiiU nqtUre ■'
In UHtbec cltoH h. ujx, ■■ fti,™T,r the ton. of Edubiirgh

no otherwise by us but as a rebellious people:
for the doing thereof, we will not only save you
harmless, but account it as acceptable service done
us."' Having received his instructions and com-
mission, Hamiltou took leave of the king, who
ordered bim to write often to himself and the
Archbishop of Canterbury, he being the only
English person entrusted with the secrets of the
Scottish atTaira. On the 3d of June Hamilton
arrived at Berwick, where the Earl of Roxburgh
met him, and told him how small were his hopes
of success. The marquis, when he came to Ber-
wick, had expected to find a great company of
noblemen and others to receive him and attend
bim as the king's high commissioner; and he had
especially counted upon his own kindred and
vassals, or tenantry; but all failed him, except
"some very few who had not subscribed the Co-
venant, and they inconsiderable : for the ttibles
of the Covenanters required that none who had
taken the Covenant should give any attendance
upon the muquis."* With a heavy heart, Ha-
milton went on to Dalkeith, where he was re-
ceived by the lords of the secret council, by some
of the lords of session, and troops of the nobility
and gentry who had not subscribed. On his way
from Dalkeith he was met by the whole body of
the nobility and gentry of the Covenanters that
were reudents of the capital and neighbourhood.
They were all mounted on horseback, and con-
sisted of several thousands— more calculated, no
doubt, to overawe than to testify respect. And
as the marquis drew still nearer to Edinborgh,
he saw a small hill bhuskened all over witli Ge-
neva cloaks — for 600 Presbyterian preachers, on
foot, had there taken their post, and had ap-
pointed "the strongest in voice aud austereet in
countenance to make him a short welcome; but
this the marquis avoided."'

As soon as Hamilton was settled at Holyrooil,
he asked the Covenanters what would satisfy
them and induce them to renounce their league.
Tliey answered, nothing but a general assembly
and a parliament, and instantly clappeil new
guards upon Eiiinburgh Castle, and multiplied
the guards and watches of the city. At the same
time the preachers advised the people to take
heed of crafty propositions; and when the mar-
quis proposed hearing Divine service in the king's
chapel, they sent to tell him that he nuist not
read the English service-book; and they nailed
up the organ, which they considered as an abo-
mination unto the Lord.' Afewdays after they
wrote a letter to the marquis, admonishing him

p«^a of Beotluul of tt

om Wmtworlh bud u tjiwiniani dr
w Uking thair J«Tenge, juid informixil

»Google

A.D. 1637-1639.} CHAR

aud eveiy one of the council to Babacribe their
blessed CoTenant, 88 they hoped to be esteemed
ChriBtians and patriots.' They declared that
the Scottish people wonid as toon renounce their
baptiam u their Covenant. Hamilton wisely de-
dined pnblJBhing CharWs proclamation, and ad-
vised hia roaster to be prepared either to grant
them all their demands, or to hasten down his
fleet with an army in it, to pnt soldiers into Ber-
wick and Carlisle, and to follow in penon with
an army royal. On the lOtb of June the marquis
received the following answer from the king: —
"I expect not anything can reduce that people to
obedience but force only. In the meantime your
care must be how to dissolve the multitude, and,
if it he poasible, to poesesa yourself of my castles
of Edinburgh and Stirling, which I do not ex-
pect; and to this end I give you leave to flatt«r
them with what hopes you please, bo you engage
not me ogainat my grounds, and in particular
that you consent neither to the calling of parlia-
ment nor general aasembly, nutjl the Covenant be
diaavowed and giren up, your chief end being
now to win time until 1 be ready to suppress
them. . . . This I have written to no other end
than to show you I will rather die than yield to
thooe impertinent and damnable demands, as you
rightly cftll them ; for it is all one as to yield to be
no king in a very short time. ... As the aSairs
are now, I do not expect that you should declare
the adherers to the Covenant traitors, until, as I
have already said, you have heard from me that
my fleet hath aet sail for Scotland, though your
rix weeks should be elapeed. In a word, gain
^me by all the honest means yon can, without
forsaking your groande.'

By honest means Charles meant any means
that did not openly commit his own character.
The Presbyterian miniaterB, understanding that
theCovenant must be given up, or no treaty made,
caused their pulpits to ring with exhortations of
firm adherence to the great national bond, and
again all declared that they would neverquit the
Covenant except with their lives. They pre-
aeDt«d their petition to the marquis, calling for
BU immediate redress of their grievances, telling
him that they would no longer be put off by de-
lays. Hamilton, obeying the spirit at least, if
not the letter of the king's instructions, to tera-
porixe and delude, promised them that he would
call both a genersl sBsembly and a parliament for
the redress of all grievances. It appears, hoW'
ever, that the Covenanters were aware of ^e plot
contrived by the king, or were auspicious of all

mbv of Chirln^t govnmnuut In Inlvid- " Th» jralpltB.
Tnqukir. "undillTiniadwtUi than mlnlnen, who win UUIj

DthBBMcuiiH fkoBothor pines of thtoktngdam.pmohnotlihiff
bat IMIbb Mditlan doctlins."— Jrardniclr anu Pafiri.
■ So (h* Mtai orthe nfDinen Id JIutBDrM.

Vol. 11.

I. 449

his intentions, for they went away diBsatisfied,
putting no trust in Hamilton's fair promises. He
informed bis master of all this, and implored
him not to proceed in bis warlike operations too
openly. Charles, in reply, told him that he
would take his advice, and stop public prepara-
tions, but "in a silent way' he would not cease,
that he might be ready upon the least adver-
tisement. The Covenanters presented to the
marquis an "explanation of the bond of mntnal
defence," in which they again moat solemnly pro-
tested that they meant not to derogate from the
king's authority or to disobey and rebel against
aajesty'B laws. "All our proeeedings," said
they, "by petitioning, protesting, covenanting,
and whatsoever other way, was and ia only for
the maintaining of the true religion by ns pro-
fessed; and with express reservation of our obe-
dience to his most sacred majesty."' The mar-
quis transmitted their paper to Charles, together
with fresh desponding accounts of his own; but
the answer he received was as high and absolute

If Hamilton, at this stage, is to be praised, it
must be for his loyalty, and not for bis patriot-
he told the CavenanteTB that he should
) them in order to wait upon hia majesty, to
explain their desires, and to return to them again
within three weeks or n month. But the true
reason of his going was to gain so much time, and
to see in what state of forwardness were the
king's warlike prepaistions. Previously to hia
departure, on the 4th of July, he presented the
royal proclamation, which he bad brought with
him, to the Scottish council, who signed it upon
omisrion of the command to abandon the Cove-
nant. Thereupon it was sent to the market-cross
and there read aloud; but it was met instantly
hy a long and powerfully written protest drawn
up in the name of the noblemen, barons, gentle-
men, burghs, and commons. This was followed
by another explanation of their Covenant, which
was given to Hamilton to be put into the king's
hands. When the marquis came to court, he
gave Charles a full account of the "strength and
rage of the Covenanters," together with the " un-
constancy" of many members of the Scottish
council; and he proposed to his majesty, aa a
middle course, to renew the Confession of Faith
which had been ratified by the Scottish parlia-
ment in 1067. Charles immediately sent back
the marquis with enlarged instructions. He was
to try, by all means, to make the Scottish council
ugn the eaid Confession of Fiuth, and thereby, aa
the court chose to argue, give up the Covenant;
but he was not publicly to put tiie proposition to
vote in the council except be was quite aure to
carry the point; he was to summon a general as-

US

,v Google

450

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and MiuTARr.

Bfinbly, but to take good care tli&t the sitting of
the aeaembly should not be before the iBt of No-
vember: ha was, bj alt the meana in hia power,
to dia!tipat« tiie well-fouuded Huspieiona of the
Preabyterians, to gain time id order tli&t t)ie mi-
litary preporatioDB might be matured; and al-
though he was to protest against the abolishing
of bishops, he was "to advise the bishops to for-
bear sitting at the eoundl, till better and more
fiLvouraUe times for them," These better times
were to be brought about by fire and sword; but
Charles was not bh yet ready, and therefore he
concluded thus: "Notwithstanding all these in-
structiona, or any other accident that may happen
(still htbouring to keep up our honour so far as
possibly you can), you are by no means to permit
a present rupture to happen, but to yield any-
thing, though unreasonable, rather than now to

But while the marquis was busy at court in
arranging these matters, the Covenanters in Scot-
loud were not idle, but pressed might and main
for more subscriptions to the league. "And bo-
eause the north were for the most part against
ttie Covenant, some noblemen and ministers went
on the 23d of July (being that day twelvemonth
the stool was thrown at the bishop's head) to
Aberdeen, hoping to convince the doctors there
of the lawfulness of the Covenant. But the doc-
tors violently argued against the same, because
it was a combination without warrant or autho-
rity. And the Covenanters gave out to the said
doctors at Aberdeen that the lord-commissioner
was satisfied with the Covenant upon the offer of
that explication (which is formerly mentioned);
but, at the commissioner's return, he declared
the contrary."' In the present case it nwy be
doubted whether Hamilton had not deceived tiiem
by professions of admiration of their holy league.
Upon bia return to Uolyroodhouse, on the 10th
of August, he found things in a much worse pos-
ture than be had left them. He knew not what
to dOi but he resolved at all hazards not to call
n general assembly until he hod again been to
London in person to represent to hia majesty the
extreme hazard he was like to run. Three days
after his arrival at Edinburgh, the confident Co-
venanters waited upon him, to deniaud an an-
swer to the explanation and petition they had
forwarded by him to the court. He declared that
the king's answer was full of grace and goodness
— that his majesty promised that he would leave
nothing undone that could be expected from a
just prince to save the nation from ruin — that as
soou as order and government were re established
as before these combustions, and obedience made
to the crown, both an asKmbly and a parliament
should be convoked. He never could have «x-

' IWd.

pected that men, distinguished by their sagacity
and their distrust of professions, should be satu-
fied with vague promises like these. The Cove-
nanters negotiated eight or nine days, and then
the marquis craved ogiun the space of twenty
days to go to court and bring another answer
from his majesty. Hamilton's object, as was
understood by the Oovenant«ni, was to gain more
time; but before he began his journey he thought
fit to consult with the £iai-Is of Traqnair, Box-
burgh, and Southesk, and even to join his signa-
ture with theirs to certain ai-ticles of advioe to
be offered to the king. In this paper Charles
was most earnestly urged to revoke those inno-
vations in religion and law which alone, without
any disloyalty, had moved his subjects to their
present courses. Hamilton left Sdinbui^h od
the 2dth of August: on the 10th of September he
received fresh instructions from his master, who,
it was said, was resolved to try "the utmost of
yielding' for the recovery of bis subjected affeo-
tions. In fact, Charles, who had been bo averae
to the slightest conceasioo, now gave up every-
thing to the Scots, empowering Hamilttm, by
proclamation, or otherwise as he should see cause,
to declare that hia majesty did absolutely revoke
the Service-book, the Book of Canons, the Five
Articles of Perth, and the High CommisNon. By
other clauses of his instructions the bishopa wera
given up to the vengeance of the l&ws — the Epis-
copal government was declared to be limited by
the laws of the Scottish church and kingdom as
already established — and the i»«lates were no
longer to hold any political poats. On his return
towards Edinburgh, Hiunilton met in Yorkshire
the furtive Scottish bishops, to whom he sig-
nified his majesty's pleasure, telling them that,
though the king would maintain Episcopacy, he
was content that their power should be limited,
and that they should no longer hold civil ofBce&
At this the bishops were thrown into a fury, and
spoke with great vehemency. On the 17th of
September, Hamilton was again at Holyrood,
and, on the 2lat, he received the Covenanters,
and told them that the king had granted them all
that they desired, and that, by his grarcioua per-
mission, a free assembly and a parliament were
to be called immediately. They were, or ap-
]}eared to be satisfied, until the marquis men-
tioned that they must sign the old Confession of
I^ith OS adopted by King Jame« in 1580 and
1S90, which they looked upon as an artifice to
set aside their new bond of the Covenant. And
then, upon reflection, tlieir suspicions were ex-
cited by the amplitude of the king's concessiona
If Charles had intended to keep hia promises he
would hardly have promised bo much ; and at
this time, or more probably some weeks earlier,
the Covenanters abt»ined cettuu intelligence that

,v Google

AD. l637~lC3fl.]

CHARLES I.

■ iol

he was wcretlf engaged in niisiDg an annj
agftiDst them. It wjui oot without reason that
the Covenantee had assarted that thej were as
well befriended in England as the king himself.
Their leaders were in close correspondence with
several of the leading English patriots — practical
men — men of business, who were not likely to
neglect any thing which tended to strengthen them
for their contest. And besides, there were seve-
ral of the Scottish counaellors and courtiers i^nt
liie king who were suspected both of Presbyte-
rianism and venality.'

On the 22d of September, Hamilton caused the
proclamation to be read at the market-cross, in
which the Litnrgy, the High CommiHsion, &&,
were g^ven up, and declared to be void and null;
but, as it contained the condition of signing the
old Confesaion of Faith, which was interpreted
aa implpng the abandonment of their recent
engagement, the Covenanters instautly protested
against it. The protest, like all the papers issued
by that party, whs wonderfully effective and
powerfully worded. It pointed out to the jeal-
ous eyes of the Scots that, by nibecribing the
Confession aa now nrged, they, according to the
royal proclamation, would acquiesce in tliat de-
claration to his majesty's absolute will, and sub-
mit to accept of a pardon from hira, which pardon
had need to be ratiftad in parliament; and this,
they said, was turning their glory into shame, by
eouJFeaaing their guiltiness where God had made
them -guiltless. Neither party now would or
could trust the other. Charles himself had signed
the new bond, though it contained muiy clauses
altogether r^mgnant to Arminianism, and '
eubecribed at Edinburgh by Hamilton, Traqnair,
Uar, Moray, Haddington, lAuderdale, South-
eak, Napier, Carmicbael, and all the rest of the
lords of secret council. On the same day the
marquis proclaimed his majesty's pleasure that
a free and general assembly should be indicted,
kept, and holden at Glasgow on the 21st of No-
vember; and immediately after this, proclamation
was made for a parliament to meet at Edinburgh
upon the Ifith of May, 1639. And a day
after these proelamationa the lords of the council
published an act approving the king's discharge
of the Service-book, Book of Canons, &c., and
requiring ail bis majesty's subjects to anbacribe
the Confeauon of Faith aa now offered to them.

The marquis, seeing that it would be impos-
sible to prevent a rupture at Glasgow, advised
Charles to hasten his warlike preparations. The

1 BoDD kfUr UUb wa flail t ftiebd to Chulu'i govanmhent i^-
faif, " And baaiue then ba dlren Bcnla Conniuitsn Kbont
ooaft» wba fiTB intaUignneB i^both bj th« ordEnwr. and poaUn
vid Jonmlen fbr SeoUktidJ. a ODont ihonld ba ta^sn that tha
letton maj ba opanad ', and that tha goramor of Banrkk any
^Ta order fbr arnns atrict laarchlnf and aiajuinlnK tha Scoti
tnTaUan," As.— Zftinlincl* Stoa Pnpm.

Scottish bishops, though not averse to the has-
tening on of a war of religion, pressed Hamilton
put off the meeting of the general aaaembly.
The marquis acquainted the king with their de-
Cliarlee, in reply, told him that he should
receive a particular answer from my Lord of
Canterbury to all his propositions touching the
ibly.' In another letter Charles epoke still
openly of the scheme he had arranged witli
Hamilton for sowing discord among the members
of the assembly, and defeating their acta by pro-
tests. " As for the general assembly," writes
the king, "though T can expect no good from it,
yet I hope you may hinder much of the ill; first
by putting divisions amongst them concerning
the legality of their elections, then by protesting
against their tumultuary proceedings,' But in
the leaders of the Covenant Charles had to deal
with enemies as waiy as himself; and by this
time, at the latest, the Scots were convineed that
the questions at issue must be settled rather by a
campaign than by an assembly. Notwithstand-
ng the waylaying of the posts, and the cairjing
of all letters to Secretary Coke, their friends in
England contrived now and then to send them
important advices. One of these, in relating the
warlike preparations of Charles, gave an account
of the sympathy of his English subjects. This
skilful correspondent went on to inform the Scots
that Wentfforth had made large offers of assist-
ance to the king from Ireland — some said an
army of 16,000 men— but he doubted the lord-
deputy's ability, seeing that that kingdom was
itself in an unqniet state. The Earl of Antrim
had been presented to the king as one having
great power in Ireland ; and shot for ordnance
had been newly cast, and flat-bottomed boats pre-
pared for the landing of men on the coast of
Scotland. He says, "Wise men here do think
that the king is resolved to hold you in all fair
and promising ways of treaty, until he hath suf-
ficiently fitted himself by provisions both of arms
and men, and then you may look for no other
language but what comas from the mouth of the
cannon: be assured, if the king can bring it to
this pass, he will, but most likely he will not be
able; yet how far rewards, pensions, and the like,
mayprevail, either to separate yoa amongst your-
selvM, or otherways to hire a foreigner to come
upon you (if his domestic subjects will not be
drawn to it), it is hard to say; good wisdom,
therefore, to be at a point quickly, whilst God
preserves union amongst you." '

Although Charles had dismissed the bishops
from the offices of the state, he had left them in
the church; and the Covenanters held tbat Epis-
copacy was incompatible with the existence of
liberal institutions and the true worship of God —

I

■ LdiU lUilaa. Mmuk-io

,v Google

452

HISTOEY OF ENULAIID.

[Civa. AND MtUTAKT.

k seDliment which waa echoeil bejond the Tweed.
At the end of October the EaH of Rothes, in the
name of the Corenantera, denuuided a wanaiit
for citing the bLshops to appear as criminala be-
fore the general aaeemblj at GUagow. Hamilbm
replied that the law was open for citing all such
aa were either within theicingdom orwitliont; but
he declined giving the warrant, aa being a thing
without precedent : and it wai enough, he Sfud,
that he did not y rotect them against trial. Upon
tbia repulse the Covenantera addressed them-
■elvei to the presbytery of Edinburgh, who toolc
upon tbem to issue warrants ngainst the biahops.' ;
As uae of the signs of bis returning favoor,
Charlea restored the session or term to his good
town of Edinburgh. Hamilton having dealt with
all the lords of the aession beforehand, urged
them to sign the king's Confession of Faith: two
of these judges absented tiiemselves, four po«-
tivelj refused, but at length nine of the fifteen
signed; and from that moment they durst hardlj
walk the atreeta, for fear of being torn to pieces
by the people. Clutrlea remitted to the marquis
the minutest inatnictioua as to his deportment at
the assembly, and |>ertised and revised the open-
ing speech which he waa to deliver. HamUton
required the king's advocate to prepare himself
to prove that Ejiiscopacy was according to the
laws of Scotland; but the advocate answered that
his conscience would not permit any snch thing;
that he jndged Episcopacy to t>e contrary both to
the laws of Scotland au<l the laws of the church,
and also to Ood's own Word; and thereupon the
advocate was "prevailed upon" not to attend the
general aasembly at all Ontlie 17th of Novem-
ber, the marquis arrived at Glasgow in a quiet
and peaceable manner, uoue of his train carrying
with them any prohibited arms. He there found
letters and sundry protests from the bishops, who
implored him to keep them secret, and to present
theni teoKmably, before they or their cause should
suffer any wrong from the assembly. The city
of Glasgow being filled and thronged with all
sorts of people on the day appointed by the king's
proclamation (the Slat of November, 1638), the
general assembly began by listening to a very
loug sermon which occupied the whole forenoon.
Id the afternoon they would have proceeded to
the chooung of a moderator, but Hamilton, who,
as king's commissioner, was seated upon a chair
" raised emineot above the rest," told them that
there was something to do previously, and that
was the reading of Lis commission, tliat it might
I« understood by what authority he sat there.
The commission, in Latin, was accordingly read,
and then the assembly would have again pro-
celled to the choice of their moderator: but the
marquis agun interrupteil tliem, and deMRHl that

. of the 29th of October, was read accordingly. It
I was veiy short. Charlea told them that he was
I Dot ignorant that the best of faia actions had been
mistaken by maay of hia sabjecta in his aocieut
kingdom, as if he had intonded innovatioti in
religion and laws; yet, conudering it to be the
! special duty of a Christian king to advance God's
glory and the true religion, forgetting what was
. past, he bad seriously taken into his princdy
consideration such particulars as might settle re-
ligitm and satisfy all his good aubjects of the
sincerity of his iutentiona, and bad therefore in-
dicted this present free general assembly, ap-
pointing the marqnia to attend the aame.' When
this reading was done, Hamilton stood up and
made his opening speech. We blush for the un-
fortunate victim of loyalty, who knew all his
master's itudncerity, and who bad advised or pre-
scribed part ctf his ccmduct, when we find him
pursuing his address in the following stnun : —
"For the professiiKis which have been made by
our sacred sovereign (whom God liHig pneerve
over us), I am come hither by hia couniand, to
make them good to his whole peo{de, whun, to
his grief, he hath found to have booi poisoned (by
whom I know not well, but God forgive them}
with misconoeits of his intentions concerning the
religion professed in his church and kingdom.
But, to rectify all such misconceptions of hia sub-
jects, his majesty's desire is, that, before this as-
sembly [Hoceed to anything els^ his subjects
may receive an ample and clear satisfaction in
these points, wherein his majesty's gracious in-
tentions have been misdoubted or glanced at by
the malevolent aspects of such as are afrud that
bis majesty's good subjects should see his clear
mind through any other glasses or spectacles than
those they have tempered and fitted for them."
He declared that the king his master was thoi^
oughly sincere, intending nothing less than to
keep religiously every promise he had made to
his Scottish subjects; and that it waa false, foul,
and devilish, to doubt the sincerity of his inten-
tions. Continuing, Hamilton said — "Bis majesty
hath commanded me thus to expreoa his heart
to all his good subjects. He hath seriously con-
sidered all the grievances of his subjects, which
have been presented to him by all and several of
their petitions, remonstrances, and supplications
exhibited unto himself, his commissioner, and
lords of his secret council, and hath graciously
granted them all; and as he hath already granted
as for as could be by proclamation, so he doth
now desire that his subjects may be asaured of
them by acts of this general assembly, and after-
wards by acU of pnrliiuuciit respective."*

I

»Google

A.D. 1637— 163ft.) CHAKLE3 I.

4a3

The noble marquis knew ttiAt while he was
nuJung tfa«M solemo aaaertiona hia nuuter was
preparing gunpowder and ball for hia good sub-
jects 1 and so also knew inanj of those whom he
addressed. Tfaeaasembly then proceeded to elect
their moderator, but Hamilton stopped them
with a protest, that their act should neither pre-
judice tiie king's prerogative uor tlie laws of the
kingdom, nor bar the king from taking legal
exceptions against the person elected or the irre-
gularity of hie election. After this delajr they
chose Alexander Henderson, minister of Leu-
chars, in Fife, who in many essentials was the
John Knox of the day. Hamilton wonJd hers
have read his declinator or protect against their
authority, but they proceeded to the election of
a clerk-register. The person chosen was Archi-
bald Johnston, clerk of their tables, at Edin-
burgh. Hamilton protested against hia election,
bat the assembly adhered to their choice ; and
Johnston, aft«r making a short speech, declaring
that he was unworthy of the charge, yet would
not be wanting to do his best for "the defence of
(A« prerogativt of the Son of (^od," began to per-
form the duties of clerk. On the following day
Hamilton entered a fresh protest against the re-
turn of lay elders to the assembly. Charles had
re9ect«d deeply upon the jealousies likely to
arise between laymen and clergy; and, as luy
elders, who, at the Befonnation, had attended
all general assemblies, had been displaced by his
father, he thought to make their election on the
present occanion appear like an innovation. Bnt
the lords of the tables, who had organized this
migh^ reHJBtauee, were resolved not to trust en-
tirely to Uie spirit and courage of the preachers;
and, besides, tbej were not very anxious that the
tyranny of the Presbytery should be substituted
for the tyranny of Episcopacy. They had, there-
fore, taken care to preserve that part of the origi-
nal constitution of the Bef ormed National church,
by which the laity were associated with the clergy
in its govemment. Hereupon the proctor, or
commissioner for the bishops, declined ttie juris-
diction of the assembly, as not being a purely
eccleaiastiod body. Begardless of this declina-
tor, the assembly proceeded to open their accu-
sation, the moderator Henderson, in a short
speech, deploring the obstinacy of the bishops'
hearts who had betrayed no sign of remorse and
sorrow for their wicked courses. Hamilton, after
insisting on the reading of their pi-oteet, called
the charges a libel agsinBt the bishops, sn infa-
mous and scurrilous libel. On this one of the
clerks of Besaion thundered out a verbal protes-
tation that they would pursue these charge
against the bishopB so long as they had lives and
fortunes. Thereupon Hamilton protested in his
turn, and dischaiged the bishops' proctor from

' giving appearance for the bishops before the
assembly; and, finding the utter impossibility of
shielding those prelates from the prosecution, he
determined to dissolve the assembly on the very
next day. In the course of this same day be
wrote a memorable letter to the king, cursing his
country for its non-compliance with hia majesty's
will The sincerity of Hamilton has been called in
question, but we think upon insufficient grounds.
The fact is, he was aftorwarda bated and calum-
niated by the Boyalista, who thought that he had
doue too little; and he was hunted to the scaffold
by the Farliameutariana and the Freabyterians,
who felt that he had done too much.

" Most sacred sovereign," says the marquis,
"when I consider the many great Mid most ex-
traordinary favours which your majesty hath been
pleased to confer upon me, if you were not my
sovereign, gratitude would oblige me to labour
faithfully, and that to the utmost of my power,
to manifest my thankfulness. Yet so unfortu-
nate have I been in this unlucky country, that,
though 1 did prefer your aervioe before all
worldly considerations, nay, even strained my
conscience in some points, by subscribing the
negative confession, yet all hath been to amall
purpose; for I have miHsed my end in not being
able to make your majesty as considerable a party
Ba will be able to curb the insolency of this rebel-
lious nation, without asaistance from England, and
greater charge to your majesty than this miserable
country is worth. As I shall answer to God at
the last day, I have done my best, though the suc-
cess has proven so bad as I think myself of all
men living most miserable, in finding that I have
been eousetesBaaervaottohim towhomloweso
much. And, seeing this may perhaps be the last
letter that over I shall have the haptnueai to
write to your majesty, I shall, therefore, in it
diachaige my duty so far as freely to express my
thoughta in such things as I do conceive con-
cerneth your service. .... Upon the whole
matter your majesty haa been grossly abused by
my lorda of the clergy, by bringing in those
things in this church not in the ordinary and
legal way. For the truth is, this action of theirs
is not justifiable by the laws of this kingdom^
their pride was great, but their folly greater."
He proceeds to draw charactera (not without point
and anuulnesa) of the principal bishope, minis-
ters, and counsellors of Scotland. Of the bishops
he frankly aaya — "It will be found that some of
them have not been of the best lives, as St An-
drews, Brechin, Argyle, Aberdeen; too many of
them inclined to simony." Of the miniaters be
shows that not one enjoys popularity, or is able
and willing to carry the king through with his
projects. He describes the Marquiaof Huntly ■■■
being "not only Popish 1y inclined, but ev

»Google

454

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cim. AtlD MlLITABT.

direct Roman Catholic i' " but hotnoever,' con-
tinues Hamilton, " this I am anre of, rince my
coming here he hath proved a faithful servant to
jon -, aiul I am confident will be of greater nse,
when your majesty shall take urns in your hand.'
The Earl of Argyle, whom Charles bad recently
offended in a wilful manner, was the only man
cried up in Scotland as a true patriot, a loyal sub-
ject, a faithful counsellor, and, above all, rightly
set for the preserratjon of the purity of religion.
With a correct estimate of Argyle's character
and means, Hamilton goes on to Bay, " He mnst
be well looked to; for it fears me he will prove
e dangerousest man in this state : he is

it' He condndea the letter by more abase of
his native country: — "I have now only this one
suit to yonr majesty, that if my sons live they
may be bred in England, and made happy by
service in the court; and if they prove not loyal
to the crown, njy curse be on them. I wish my
daughters be never married in Scotland. I hum-
bly recommend my brother to your favour.'"

The morning after writing this very nn-Scot-
tisb letter to the king, Hamilton summoned the
lords of the council and told them, with very little
periphrasis, that he was necessitated to dissolve
the assembly, and then trie<l hard to make them
with him as to the neceeaity. The

tar from favouring Episcopal government, that, Earl of Ai^le asked if he, the lord - (
with all his soul, he wishes it totally abolished." . sionsr, was to desire the Scottish conncil's appro-
Of the men who were to ride upon the whirl-
wind and direct the storm, the letter saya mnch.
It names Montrose as being then the hottest

bation of what he intended, or not? The c
quia replied that his instructions from his master
were clear and positive, and therefore it was not
in his power to permit any debate as to what he
should do or not do, but he only dfisired their
concurrence and advice as to the manner of doing
it. After two hours of discourse, which elicited
no clear advice from any member <A the coauci),
he proceeded to the ohnrch where the assembly
sat There he remained for some time a silent
witness of their debates; but when they were
about to put it to the vote, whether that assembly
was not free and perfect, notwithstanding the
bishops' protests, knowing well how the vote
would nm, he suddenly rose np, and, in a speech
of great length and considerable eloquence — not
wholly destitute of home-truths — in hie majesty's
name, dissolved them, and forbade their further
proceedings, under pain of treason. Hendenon,
the modemtor, and the Earl of Rothee, told him
that they were sorry he was going to leave tbem,
but their consciences bore them witness they had
done nothing amiss, and therefore they would
not desert the work of God ; albeit, " in its due
Scotland is indispensable; "where,''he continues, . line and subordination they acknowledge their
"you will find a man I cannot possibly say, un- duty of obedience to the king.' Hamilton then
leM your majesty send the Dake of Lennox : as hastened back to the council. The Eart of Argyle
for tiie Marquis of Huntly, certainly he may be told him in plain language that he would take

of the CJovenanters. " Now, for the Covenanters,
I shall only say this in general — they may ail
he placed in one roll as they now stand. But
certainly, sir, those that have both broached the
business, and still hold it aloft, are Rothes,
Balmerino, Undaay, Lothian, Loudon, Yester,
Cranston. There are many others as forwurd in
show; amoiigit whom none mart vainli/ fooiUh
than MoitTROSB. But the above mentioned are
the main contrivers. The gentry, buighs, and
minist«re have their ringleaders too. It will be
too long to set down all their names." In the
same remarkable letter Hamilton shows the king
bow he may beat carry on the war against his
S«ot« subjects, blockade their ports, and min
their trade. But, in the meanwhile, all things
are to be done covertly. The Scots are not to
know that they are to be reduced to obedience
by force of arms — they are to know nothing of
the blow until it is struck. He observes that the
presence of a commissioner or lord-deputy

trusted by you, but whether fitly or no, I cannot
say. If I keep my life {though next hdl I hate
thU plart), if you think me worthy of employ-
ment, I shall not weary till the government be
again set right; and then I will forswear this
conntiy. As for your majesty's castle of Edin-
bni^h, it was a most shameful thing it should
have been so neglected. I cannot promise thtit
it shall be defended, yet I hope that they shall
not take it but by an hostile act. Some few men
I have stolen in, but, as yet, cannot get one mas-
het pnt there, nor one yard of match. I have
trusted, for a time, the same man that was in it,
and perhapsyourmajesty will think this strange
that I have done so ; yet necesdty forced me to

the Covenant and recognize the assembly; but
most of the council pretended to be satisfied with
the conduct of the marquis; and yet be durst not
offer to their signature the proclamation for dis-
solving the assembly, for fear of a refusal, " not
having tried them ail in it beforehand." Theneit
morning, however, he got them all to sign it,
except Argyle, and then sent it to l>e read at the
market-cross at Glasgow. But again the Cove-
nanters were ready with their protest, which wad
read and affixed immediately after it.

Hamilton now urged the king to complete bis
preparations. lAud, however, in a letter dated
the 7th of December, told him that "the jealanaies

»Google

AD. 1637—1639.]

CHARLES L

455

of (civiog the Covenauten umbrage too Boon had
made preparationa so late,' but that he, the arch-
biahop, had called, and was dailj calling upon
his niajeatj to make more haute. Laud was fu-
rious againat the assembly. " Never," he says,
"were there more groas abenirditiea, nor half bo
many, in BO short a time committed in aoy public
meeting ; and for a national assembly, never did
the churcb of Christ see the like.''

Meanwhile the sasembly continued its prose-
cution of the bishops. Upon the departiure of
Hamilton, the Earl of Ai^yle openly declared
himself their head, and sat constantly with them
in the assembly, not aa a member, but as their
chief director. In brief time they condemned all
the Arminian tenets whatsoever— declared Epis-
copal government to be tor ever abolished — and
passed many other acta of an equally sweeping
character. Not satisfied with merely depriving
the bishops, they excommunicated the greater part
of thero, together with the few preachers that
adheredto them, and all their fautorBorabettors.'
In spite of Hamilton's real or affected dread of
assassination, the Coveuanten quietly allowed

HafiielCi

liim to return to England, whither he went to di-
rect the hostile preparations agaitist them. Char-
les thundered out fresh proclamations, annulling
all the proceedings of the aaaembly, which were

In hte I*

r I^aA ujv, qwintl^. that
woit >U thii wbUs fbr B qnlel

ati, Hud ■modAntcff witbont modemlioti."

■ HalbtrU :— 1. S, tlma of Cliulia I.; S, dm* of Cbuli
ftfc*.-— l,a,»,Un»i>f JuMiI,; ipOiBeorChMlMl.; ^
~ ~ ~0,llawD(Cb«lMlI.

met, as usual, by counter- protests. Nor were
the Covenanters slower than the king in their
military preparations. As early as the month of
July they had made a magazine of pikes, halberts,
and muskets. Early in December it was known
that one Barnes, a merchant of Edinburgh, had
brought some 6000 muskets out of Holland : the
ship which carried these arms was stopped by the
goverament of the United Provinces; but the
King of France, the loving brother of Charles's
queen, got the vessel freed aud sent to a Freuch
port, as if tlie muskets were for bis own use, and,
from the French port, ship and arms were for-
warded to Leith. If the reports of their enemies
are to be believed, the artillery of the kirk was
louder than that of armies, One minister of repute
said to have declared that all Scotchmen who
had not subecrihed the Covenant were atheists ;
another in hie sermon wished that he and all the
bishops were at sea together in a rotten boat, for he
could be content to lose his own life so that the
priests of Baal should perish. They refused the
to such as had not subecribed their
Covenant, nor would they permit baptism to be
administered by auy but ministers of their own
body. At the same time the supreme table, or
a Edinburgh, issued its instructions
to the provincial tables and presbyteries, all so
thoroughly organized that the business was trans-
acted with more than the r^ularity of an old
government ; every man of an age to bear arms
taught the use of them, drilled, and trained
to the duties of a soldier; the Scottish officers,
whom poverty or love of adventure, or religious
enthusiasm, had carried abroad to fight for the
Dutch, for the Protestants of Germany, for the
glorious Swede — the men who had grown gray
in arms, who bad witnessed and contributed to
the dazzling victories of the Lion of the North-
hastened back to tlieir native hills aud gave all
the weight of their military experience to the
popular party. The article in which Scotland
had ever been meet deficient was money ; but
on the pr«Bent occasion, excited by their preachers,
the citizens of Edinburgh and other towns gave
in voluntary donations; the nobility in many in-
stances sent their plate to be coined ; the mer-
chants settled in foreign countries, particularly
in France and Holland, remitted specie, or am-
munition, or anus. The worldly wise among
them suggested that aid might be obtained from
the Lutheran princes of Germany — from the
Kingsof France and Spain; but the preachers and
the godly declared that it would be refusing the
protection of Heaven, and leaning on the broken
reed of Sgypt, to accept aSMstance from heretics
and Boman Catholics. Still, however, some of
the leaden thought that some French mouc
would do DO harm to the cause, and it was

,v Google

456

HISTORY OF ENOLAND.

[C.V

D MlUTART.

cretly aiTanged with Richelieu that the French
ambuaador at London should pay 100,000 crowns
to General Leslie, whom they liad appointed their
commander-ia-cli ief .

.aoa -An*! '" whatatate were the fioan-
cea and the other means of the king)
We are told very clearl; by the Earl of North-
umberland, in a letter addressed to Wentworth,
and dated in the month of Jauaary; — " I assure
your lordship, to my noderatanding, with soi^
row I speak it, we are altogether in as ill a pon-
ture to invade others or to defend onrselveB aa
we were a twelvemonth since, which is more
than any man can imagine that is not an eye-
witness of it. The discoDtenta here at home do
rather increaae than lessen, there being no course
taken to give any kind of satisfaction. The king's
Gofiers were never emptier than at this time, and
to na that have the honour to be near about him,
uo way is yet known how be will find means
either to maint^n or begin a war without the
help of his people."' By the beginning of tlie
year Charles bad named his captains and general
officers, had issued orders to the lords-Ueatenants
to muster the trained bands of their seven!
counties, had borrowed money from all that
would lend, and sospended the payment of all
penwous and allowances. On the 15th of Feb-
mary he addressed a letter to the nobility, telling
them that the late disorders in Scotland, begun
upon pretence of religion, were now grown to such
a height that he had reason to take into his
considemtion the defence and safety of his king-
dom of England ; and, therefore, upon consulta-
tion with his privy council (he did not even
name a parliament), he had resolved to repair in
his own royal person to the northern parts of this
his kingd(»n, to resist any invasion that might
happen. He added " And withal [we] hereby
do require you to attend our royal person and
standard at our city of York, on the 1st day of
April next enauiug, with anch equipage and such
forces as your birth, honour, and interest in the
commonalty doth oblige you to," &c. " And we
do, and have reason to expect from you a per-
formance hereof, and these our letters shall be aa
sufficient and effectual a warrant and discharge
unto you to put yourself and auch as shall attend
you, into arms and order as aforesaid, as if you
were authorized thereunto under our great seal
of England."' He made an att«mpt, through the
agency of Colonel Gage, to procure a foreign army
of 6000 foot and 400 horse from the archdnke,
in return for which he engaged to permit the
raising annually in Ireland recruits for the armies
of Spain; but this negotiation failed because the
archduke could not spare so many disciplined
troops. He called upon the judges and lawyers

and servants of the ct«wn to coutribut« to the
expenses of the war out of their salaries ; and he
required from many of the gentry payments to

se tlieir personal attendance in the campaign.
The clergy of the Eatabiishment were tolerably
liberal — in some places exceedingly so — for they
considered the war, which some irreverently
called a war about lawn sleeves, a holy war.
The name of every clei^gyman wlio refused or

unable to contribute was especially certified
and returned to Archbishop I^ud. And while
Laud and the king called upon the clei^ and
all good Protestants, the queen railed upon all
the English Catholics. We have already shown
how the religious intolerance of the Puritans
prevented the Catholics from becoming patriots.
The latt«r were exceedingly well inclined to

t the king against the Scots, and, disregard-
ing the danger they thereby incurred, they held
public meeting in London for the purpose of
•commending all their brethren to subscribe.
The pope's nuncio presided at this meeting, and
thus more than ever gave a Papistical character to

The secret correspondence established between
the Covenanters and the English patriots became
closer and more active than before: the Scots
had friends and agents in Loudon, io nil the
counties, in the army, and even in the vei7
court: their counter- proclamations were circula-
ted throughout England; their proceedings in the
general assembly, in council, and in the field,
I all reported in the minutest detail to patient
and sympathizing auditors.' The silenced min-
isters— silent no longer — proclaimed that the
Scots had begun the good fight ; and that it was
the duty of eveiy English subject that loved
liber^ and the true religion, to make common
cause with them, instead of opposing them.
Nor were Charles's endeavours to sow dissen-
sions among the Scottish nobles who had taken
the Covenant attended with much more success
than his attempts to excit« jealousy in the Eng-
lish against the Scots. Even English gold lost
its value in their eyes when put iu the scale with
religion ; and it must t>e remembered Charles
had not much gold to give. We possess many
remarkable papers, both of a public Find prii'ate
nature, in which the Presbyterian ministers ex-
hort the nobility to firmness and unanimity, and
the nobles exhoK mie another to constancy in

"TlMiin

tt pFDoflBdingi of tbv 1

id Mcratlj &Toand uid -*»!■**■< i
thsn. (■pecLillj Umat liuUiMd to
t, m whom the pabUo pr

»Googie

A,n. 1837—1639.] CHAI

this gTMit came. Many of them are written with
fztraordiiifty povw &nd eloquence.

It was the buraing zeal and eloquence of men
like these that kept the Covenant together, and
that impelled the people to daring and extreme
acts. WiUiout awaiting the attack of the king,
they fell apon every easUa and stronghold he poa-
aeaaed in Scotland, and took them all with the
exception of Caerlaverock. As early as the month
of March, before Charles had begun hia journey
to York, General Leslie, with 1000 moHketaera,
surprised and took Edinburgh Castle without
lofling a single man. On the next day Dumbar-
ton Castle, the second, or rather, in strength, the
first fortress of the kingdom, was delivered over
to the provost of the town, a zealous Covenan-
ter; and the castle of Dalkeith, wherein were
lodged the regalia, together with a store of am-
munition and arms, was surrendered by Traquair,
the lord-treasurer.' The people, who were chiefly
led in this enterprise by the Earls of Bothes and
Balmerino, seized the crown, sceptre, and sword,
sod carried them away in great joy and triumph
— Traqnair admits, with all the reverence they
could ahow — and deposited them in Edinburgh
Cartle. The Marquis of Huntly, who had un-
dertaken to secure all the north for the king,
had risen in arms ; but 7000 men collected from
the counties near the Tay, and commanded by
Leslie and Montrose, soon overthrew him. Les-
lie forced the Covenant upon the university of
Aberdeen, and returned to Edinburgh, carrying
HuQtIy with him as an hostage.

The Marquis of Hamilton was sent into the
i^th of Forth with a considerable fleet and GOOO
land troops. He had engaged to take Leith, the
port of Edinbui^h; but the Covenanters, well
aware of his coming, had prepared lijip a hot
reception. The fortifications of Leith had been
much neglected: now, volunteers of all ranks
hnnied to repair them; men of the noblest birth
worked like masons oa the bastions, and ladies
assisted them in carrying materials. When Ha-
milton appeared, Leith was safe, and so was the
capital, at least on that side. He reconnoitred
both sides of the frith, but saw no hopes of effect-
ing a landing anywhere, for Sfl,000 armed men
were distributed along the coasts, the sea-ports
and inlets were protected by batteries; and he
was Boon hia to land his troops, which had al-
ready become very sickly and very mutinous, on
the Isle of May and the other islets in the frith,
where there were no inhabitants, no enemies to
encoonter, but solan geese and other sea-fowl.
Here, again, great pains have been taken to prove
that Hamilton was betraying the king. It is
said, for example, that he was holding a secret
correspondence with the Covenanters— that he

LES I. 457

received a visit from hia mother, herself a rigid
Covenanter, which caused the rest to believe
that the son of such a mother would do them no
harm. But it appears to us tliat Hamilton, who
had never shown any great military talent, and
who was leading a small and wretched force, which
had been premed and carried on board ship as
soon as caught, was really not in a condition to do
much more than he did. On the 27th of March,
the anniversary of his coronation, Charles began
his journey northward, travelling in a coach with
the Duke of Lennox and the Earl of Holland.
On the 30tb he arrived at York, where the no-
bility attended with their armed retinues accord-
ing to his summons, and where Sir Thomas Wid-
derington, tlie recorder, delivered to him a most
fulsome speech, telling him that he had estab-
lished his throne upon two columns of diamond,
namely, piety and justice— the one of which gave
him to God, the other to men — and that all his
subjects were most happy between the two
columns. " This king's good nature," says a
somewhat ill-natured historian, "never more ap-
peared than in his necessities; so that when he
came to York, by proclamation he recalled thirty-
one monopolies and patents, formerly granted by
him, he not before nnderatanding how gnevoDB
they were to his subjects.'* Whitelock says that
these grants and patents which Charles had for-
merly passed, to the great grievance of his people,
were mostly in favour of Scotchmen. He also at
York exacted an oath from all the nobility and
officers about him, whether Scotch or English,
that they would be faithful and obedient, that
they abhorred all rebellions, and more especially
such as rose out of religion, and that they had
not, and would never have any correspondence
or intelligence with the rebellious Covenanters.
On the 29th of April the king t^Kik his farewell
of York, telling the recorder and the municipal
authorities in set speech, that he had never found
the like true love fi-om the city of London, to
which he had given so many marks of his favour.
At Durham he was welcomed by the bishop, who
feast«d his majesty for soma time. At every
resting-place he was joined by a certain number
of horse and foot, levied in those parta ; but the
progress was more illustrious than the march,
and the soldien were the least part of the army,
and least consulted with. From the time he ad-
vanced to the right bank of the Tweed, and en-
camped with his army in an open field near
Berwick, some days were spent in reviews and
parades, and altercations and quan-els among the
leaders. He had chosen to make the Earl of
Arundel, the bashaw, his general — "a man,"
says Clarendon, " who was thought to be made
choice of for his negative qualities. He did not

IM

,v Google

458

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cnr

D MlUTART.

love the Scots; he did not love the PuritanB;
which qualificationa were ftU&yed by another ue-
g>tire — he did not love imjbodj else; but he was
St to keep the state of it; and his nnk was such
that DO nuui would decline the serving under
him." The lieutenaDt-geiienl was the Earl of
Esaei, one of the moat popular men in the king-
dom and the darling of the aoldierj. The Earl
of Holland, " a num fitter for a show than a
fleld," was general of the horse. The latter force
was estimated at 3260, the infantrj at 19,614,
without counting the foot companies under Ham-
ilton, or the two gtuTisons at Berwick and Car-
lisle, and there was an abundant supply of war-
like stores and a good trwn of artillerr. To the
eye, all this formed an imposing array, but there
was disaffection and contrariety of opinion at head-
quarters, and the majority of the men were al-
together averse to the war and to the system
which Iiad produced it.

On the other side the Scots were unanimouB,
and Leslie, as a commander, was certainly supe-
rior to any of the English generals. Having
secured the country behind them, be boldly ad-
vanced to the Borders, and on the 30th of May
he took up a position within a few miles of
Charles's camp. Thence, that the English people
might have no jealousy of an invasion, he issued
proclamations, repeating that the Scots had no
intention of doing harm — had every wish to do
good — that they implored the good opinion of
their brethren in England, and that, for the pre-
sent, they would not cross the frontier line of
their own countir. At first, when I«slte arrived
at Dunglas, and Monroe at Kelso, they scarcely
had between tliem BOOD men, but they were rein-
forced eveiy day, the preachers being the best
of recruiting sergeautH, They called upon every
true Scot, in the name of God and hie country, to
seek the enemies of their king, an well as of them-
selves, the prelates and Papists; they denounced
the curse of M<>roz against all who came not to
the help of the Loi-d and his champions. They
had chosen for the motto on their new banners,
"For Christ's Crown and the Covenant;* and as
Charles hesitated and wavered, they were allowed
time to collect S0,000 men under this ensign.

At last, on Monday, the 3d of June, the Earl
of Holland, "that ill chosen general of the Eng-
lish horse," ci-ossed the Tweed near Twisell—
once famed for a more patriotic warfare'— to fall
upon the division of the Scots that lay at Kelso.
He tAuk with him nearly all the cavalry, and
31100 foot, but he left the infantry three miles be-
hind him. When he reached Knxwcllheugh, a
height above Kelso, he perceived what he consi-

' ffuUl? tfOu Oi

M Utile of FloOdta TkW, toL i. r "

dered or affected to consider a very great army,
advantageously posted. The Scots threw ont 1 ao
hone and SOOO or 6000 foot to bar his ftuiJier
progress. Holland tJwreupon sent them a tnui-
pet, commanding them to retreat, and not to cross
the Borders, which they had promised not to do
by proclamation. They asked whose trumpet
this was? The man said. My Lord Holland's.
Then, said the Covenanters, he had bel^r bc^ne ;
and BO my Lord Holland made his retreat, and
waited upon his majesty to give this account* In
fact, during this march and countermarch, the
English soldiers, who behaved as they had never
done before, scarcely drew a sword or fired a
musket or a carbine. Charles now began to
perceive that the nobility and gentry of England
were not inclined to invade Scotland at all, and
a morning or two after he was alarmed for his
own camp by the closer approach of Leslie. The
Lord-general Arundel blamed the scont-master;
the scout-master bUmed the sddierB that were
sent out as scouts, and brought in no intelligence.
Charles, in a hurry, threw up some works to
cover his camp, intending, with the advice of
many of his council, to keep himself there upc»i
the defensive; but already the mm were com-
plaining that the biscuit was mouldy, and drink
altogether wanting; that they could get nothing
ont of Scotland except a few lambs. On the Gth ot
June a Covenant trumpet, and the Earl of Dun-
fermline, arrived at the royal camp, witha humble
petition to his majesty, entreating him to appoint
somefewof the many worthy men of the kingdom
of England, to meet with some few gf them (the
Scottish leaders), that they might the better know
their humble desires, and make known his ma-
jesty's pleasure, so that all mistakings might be
speedily removed, and the two kiugdonu kept in
peace and happiness. Before this, the Covenan-
ters bad addressed separate letters to the three
English generals, Anmdel, Essex, and Holland.
Clarendon says, that "the Earl of Essex, who was
a punctual ""»" in point of honour, received the
address superciliously enough, sent it to the king
without returning any answer, or holding any
conference, or performing the least ceremony
with or towards the messengers.'* But, accord-
ing to the same narmtor and to other anthorities
of different parties, Arundel, and, still more, Hol-
land, gave a very different reception to the letters
they received, and forthwith became pressing ad-
vocat«sforanimmediateaccommodatiDn with the
Covenanters. To Dunfermline's petition Charles
at first gave an answer, signed by Secretary Coke ;
the Lords of the Covenant returned it, humUy
entreating that his majesty would sign llie an-
swer to itteir petition witJi his own band, for,

amalhon, la XnWknrU.

* a<$U>r$ aftlit Omt BiMlin

,v Google

A.D. 1637-1630.1 CHAR

althougl) they themeelvea did not miBtriut hia
majest/B word siguified to them by the Recr«-
taiy, yet the people and army would not suffer
their deputies to coiue without bis niajeaty's owu
baud and warrant. Charles then sigued the pa-
per, and on tbe lltb of Juue,the deputies of the
Covenanters arriTed at tbe royal camp, where
they were received in the lord-generars tent by
theEuglish commiaBioners wbom Charles had se-
lected to treat with them. Tbe Scottish depu-
ties were tbe Earb of Rothes and Dunfenuline,
tbe Lord Loudon, and Sir William Douglas,
sheriff of Teviotdale, to whom were afterwards
added, sorely against the king's inclination, the
leading miDiater, Alexander Henderson, late mo-
derator of tbe general assembly, and Mr. Ar-
chibald Johnston, the clerk-register; the king's
comuisBioneni were the EarU of Essex, Holland,
Salisbury, and Berkshire, Sir Henry Vane, and
Mr. Secretary Coke. But when they were ready
to begin their conference, Charles came unexpeo-
t«dly among them, took his seat, and told the
Scottish deputies that be was informed that tbey
complained they could not be heard; that, tbei-e-
fore, he was now come to hear what tbey would
Bay, and to take the negotiation upon himself.
The Earl of Rothefl, speaking for tbe Covenan-
ters, sud that tbey only wished to be secured in
their religion tuid liberty. Lord Loudon b^^n
to offer an apology for their brisk manner of pro-
ceeding, but Charles interrupted bun, and tAld
him that he would admit of no excuse or apology
for what was past; but if tbey came to implore
for pardon, they should set down their desires in
writing, and in writing they should receive his
answer. In tbe course of tbe negotiation several
attempts were made at overreaching the Scots, hut
the Covenanters, without confining'tbemaelves to
the meekness of the dove, had certainly the wis-
dom of the serpent. Hamilton arrived at the
camp, and hastened, it is said, the conclusion of
tbe treaty, which was signed by Charles, on the
16tb of June, and published, with a royal decla-
ration, in the Covenanters' camp, on tbe SOth.
Tbe articles agreed upon were few, and some of
them loosely expressed. The king, though he
could not condescend to ratify and approve the
acts of what he called the pretended General As-
sembly, was pleased to confirm whatsoever his
uommissioner had granted and promised, mid to
leave all matters ecclesiastical to be determined
by tbe assembly of tbe kirk, and all mattera civil
by the parliament and other inferior judicatur«a.
The assemblies of tbe kirk were to be kept once
a-year, or as often as might be agreed upon by
the general assembly; and for settling the dis-
lisctious of the kingdom, it was ^pointed that
a free general assembly should meet at Edin-
burgb, on tbe 6tb day of August, and that the

:.ES I. 459

parliament for ratifying what should be con-
cluded in the said assembly, and for settling such
other things as might conduce to tbe peace and
good of tbe kingdom, should be held at Edinburgh,
on tbe 20tb day of August, and that therein au
act of oblivion should be passed. It was agreed
that tbe troops, on both sides, should be recalled
and disbanded; that hia majesty's castles, forte,
ammunitions of all sorts, and royal honours,
should be delivered up to the king, who there-
upon was to withdraw his fleet and cruisers, and
deliver up whatever Scottish goods and ships, or
whatever else, had been taken from them. Tlie
king litipnlated that there should be no meetings,
treatinga, consultations, or convocatione of the
lieges, but such as were warranted by act of jiar-
liameut ; and he agreed to restore to all h is good
subjects of Scotland tlieir liiiei-tiee, privileges,
&c., &c. Not a word was said by tbe king touch-
ing the abolition of Episcopacy. By bis express
ordeiB tbe term bishop was never introduced.
He atill clung to Laud and tbe hierarchy; and, us
usual, lie was anxious to say as little as poeuble
in a pacification which he made with the most
unpleasant of fselibgs, and which be was fully
determined to break as soon as possible. The
Covenanters more than suspected bis meaning
and intentions, and both parties openly betrayed
their mutual distinist before tbe ink was dry on
the parchment: the two armies, however, were
disbanded by the S4tb of June, when his majesty
took np his quarters in the town of Berwick. He
summoned fourteen of the principal Covenanters
to attend him, but tbey declined the dangerous
bottour,fearingtheTower of London. They sent,
however, the Earls of Lothian, Loudon, and Mon-
trose, tbe last of whom appears to have been lost
to the Covenant and gained by the kbg from
tbst moment. While at Berwick, Charles decide<l
about the high-commissioner to be sent into Scot-
laud to open the parliament, &c., for he was an-
xious to get back to the south, where he had left
many fiery spirits, and Weutworth bad again
warned him, after " so total a defection as had
appeared in that people," not to go to them him-
self; or, to use my lord-deputy's expression, ''not
to trust his own sacred person among tbe Scots
over early, if at all.' It is said that his luajeaty
greatly pressed tbe Marquis of Hamilton to go
upon that employment once more, and that the
marquis implored to be excused. After the af-
fair of Dalkeith and his easy losing or surren-
dering the regalia, it could hardly have been
expected that Traquair should be named com-
missioner, yet he was the man appointed to
aucceed Hamilton and represent tbe king. Char-
les then took post at Berwick, and rode to Lou-
don in four days, arriving there on the 1st of
August.

»Google

460

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil, AND MiLiT*«r.

Traquuir'a iiistructioufl ptuaed Uie seal on the
Glh of Aagust, when he was immediately de-
spatched to meet tlie general assembly at Edia*
burgh. That coovocation opened on the I2th of
Auguat, every member of it haviug previously
bound himself by an oath to support the acts of
the late assemblj at Glasgow. Traquair's io-
utructious from the king were veiy artfully con-
ceived, but it was scarcely poaaible that they
should have much efiect upon such a body of men
an these Coveaantera. Charles had written to
the dispei-sed and afflicted Scottish bishope, to
assure them that it should be his chief cam to
establish their church aright, and repair their
losses, and to advise them to enter into a formal
protest BgMuat the proceedings of this assembly
and parliament, which he promised "to take into
considerstjon, as a prince sensible of his own in-
terest and honour, joined with the eqttili/ of their
desires."' But iu his inBtructiooB to Traquair,
he consented that Episcopacy should be utterly
abolished in Scotland, for satisfaction of the peo-
ple, provided that the act of abohtion should be
so conceived and worded, that Episcopacy should
not be called a point of Popery, or contrary to
Ood'a law, or the Protestant religion, hut merely
contrary to the constitution of the Church of Scot-
laud. The bishops, or at least seven of them,
signed a protest, and got it presented to the lord-
commissioner by a mean person, as the king had
desired. They called the Covenanters refractory,
schismatical, and perjured men, having no office
in the church of God, who had filthily resiled,
and so made themselves to the present and fu-
ture ages most infamous, &c. The Covenanters,
however, wanted no fresh provocation to go lus-
tily to work. Without naming the Glasgow as-
sembly, they adopted and confirmed all its acta,
whether against tlie bishops, Service-book, Book
of Penance, or High Commission; and to all this,
Traquair as commissioner gave the royal assent,
and signed the Covenant.

But the king was all this while preparing mea-
sures for a new war, which he flattered himself
would be conducted with better success. The
Covenanters had kept their agreement in giving
up the fortresses; they had surrendered Edin-
burgh Castle, and twenty other caatles; and Pa-
trick Ruthven, afterwards Earl of Brentford, the
new governor for the king, was getting artillery,
ammunition, arms, and men into Edinburgh Cas-
tle, and repairing the breaches which time rather
than war had made. Charles commanded Tra-
quair to take in general the like care of all his
houses and forts in that kingdom; and likewise
to advertise all such who were affected to his ser-
vice, that they might secure themselves in good
time. The Scottish parliament met on the day

appointed, the 20th of August, and consented that
for that time, Traquair, as commissioner, should
name those lords of articlee that had formerly
been named bj the bishope; but they protested
that this should be no precedent for the future,
and they went on roundly to remove the lords
of articles totally, as a body of necessity at all
times subservient to the crown. Charles knew
that their project, if effected, would wholly eman-
cipate the Scottish parliament from thu shackles
and trammels which had been imposed upon it,
chiefly by hia own father, and he had declared
that he would never give up his prerogative on
this point. Traquair saw no other means than
the dangerous one of stopping proceedings by a
prorogation, uid accordingly he prorogued par-
liament on the 14th of November. The Cove-
nanters protested agmnst the legality of any pro-
rogation without consent of parliament (and in
fact the principle differed &om the Eu^ish).
They, however, rose quietly after entering this
protest, and sent np a commission, headed by the
Lords Dunfermline and Loudon, to wait upon the
king. When these deputies arrived at Whitehall
they were rudely asked whether they had any
warrant from the king's commissioner; and, as
they had none, they were in disdain commanded
home again, without audience or any access to
majesty. The return of these noblemen to Scot-
land WAS aoou followed by the summoning of
Traquair to court This nobleman, by royal in-
structions, had in many respects been playing a
double part; and, as invariably happens in such
cases, his employers hod become jealous and
doobtful of his real feelings and intention. But
be averted Charles's wrath from himself by pro-
ducing a letter secretly addressed by several Lords
ot the Covenant to the King of France, and im-
ploring his protection. Thb letter had lieen writ-
ten before the lata pacification at Bei-wick, and
addressed "Au Boy." It bore the signatures of
seven lords; but the address, which in itself was
made matter of treaaon, waa in a different hand
from the body of the letter, and the thing bad
never been sent, evidently through the aversion
of the ministers and the mass of the Covenanteni.
At the same time Traquair told the king that it
was impossible to prevail with the Scots except
by force or a total compliance; and having, as
he fancied, furnished the king with grounds for
justifying such a proceeding, he recommended)
him to take up arms again witliout loss of time.
The Covenanters, having sought and obtuned
the royal permission, again sent up the Earis of
Loudon and Dunfermline. Loudon was instantly
seized, and examined touching the letter "An
Roy." The Scottish lord said that it was written
before the late agreement, and never sent; that,
if he had eomniitted any offence in signing it, he

,v Google

A.I.. i6io-ieu.] .

CHAHLES I.

461

ought to be qaeationed for it in Scotland, and not
in England; nor nould he make any oth«r an-
swer or iK>nfe3sioD, but, ineisting upon the king's
Bnfe-conduct which had been given to him for this
journey, he demanded liberty to return. Charlea
seat him to the Tower of London. This effec-
tually stopped the arrival of any more Scottish
commiftsionera; but it was evideut to both parties
that they must agaiti take the field; and the Co-
venanters, by more secret agents, concerted mea-
sures with the patriots and tlie disaffected of all
classes. Secret coundls were held in London,
and a coalition of all the various sections of the
discontented was effected.

£very proceeding of government was now a
fiulure, and each failure caused fierce disseusiona
amongst the cabinet ministers and the chief offi-
cers of the crown: every one laboured to enon-
erat« himself at the cost of his comrades. This
is one of the sadilest and surest itdtationa of a
nation's decay. Almost aa so6n as< the pacifica-
tion of Berwick waa ei^ed, afl ftf the English
party engaged in it were irritated and ashamed;
and the king himself, according to Clarendon,

" was very melancholic, and quickly discerned
that he had lost reputation at home and abroad;
and those counsellors who had been most faulty,
either for want of courage or wisdom (for at that
time few of them wanted fidelity), never after-
wards recovered spirit enough to do their duty,
but gave themselves up to those who had so
much overwitted them; every man shifting the
fault from himself, and finding some friends to
excuse him. And it beiug yet necessary that so
infamous a matter should not be covered with
absolute oblivion, it fell to Secretary Coke's turn
(for whom nobody cared), who was then near
fourscore years of age, to be made the sacrifice ;
and upon pretence that he had emitted the writ-
ing what he ought to have done, and inserted
somewhat he ought not to have done, he waa
put out of his office." ' Old Coke, the scapegoat,
was succeeded by Sir Henry Vane, previously
treasurer of the household, who, as Clarendon,
Warwick, and other writers of that party main-
tain, became secretary of state through the queen's
too powerful influence and the dark contrivance
of the Marquis of Hmniltou.

CHAPTER XL—CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1640—16+1.

CHARLES I.

Charln coDiulU with Weatwortii— Wantwortb adTiMB the cklliog of pu'liuoant—Hs is nude Eul «>f Stnffor.. ^
FuliuDSDt aBamblod— Addran to it by Sir Jobu Finch, lord-kwpcr— His miirepTSBetitiitiaD of Bootliab
ftSftira— Speach of CbirlM sboat tbs Isttm of the Scots to the Franch kiog— Crual tmtment of Sir Johe Eliot
— Hb die* » prisoner in thBTowBr—ThocommoaiprooBBd to the redtOMof griov»iioo«— Tha griBvinB«B«niiine-
rat«d and dBnoonced — Charle) nunnioni the lords and commouB bofors him— Fiooh ftttempta to cajole Uie
eomiDcna— The; peiust in damanding ledreai of grievancei bafora (oting mppliaa — InterfciBDoe of Charlaa in
the Houae of Lonla— Tba Bommoni remonrtrata with tha lorda— HeaaEaa of Chaflta to tha oommona tar anp
pliea— He rabnkce tbem, and diMolTea parliament for the lait time— IropoUoj of the proowding— Land oon-
tionet hia rabranuoTW in the chnrch — Oppreuive modes bj whioh Charlea laius monsy— A mob attampta to
■form I^mbetb Falace— The Soottiah parliamont ranme the war— Tba Covaoauten cron the Tweed— Thaj
enter EDgUnd— Tbej defeat the Royalist troope at Beddon-!**— They oocnpy Newtuntle and Durham— Their
nicceuea in the Engli»h nortbam counties-Charlea treat* with tbe CovananteTa— Hii indignation at their
propoaala— Meeting held for a treaty at Ripon— The agreBmoHt and its lenna— Charlea opona the I«ng Par-
liament—He inritM ill ooDfldeDoe when too late— It« buiineaa eommencei with the oonaideration of grieraneea
— Demanda juuie for refonn in shureb and rtate— The priaonen of the Star Chamber liberated and indemnlEed
-The tida turned againat the peneoutora— I«ad aconaed of high treaaon- He ji committed to the Tower—
The Earl of Strafford alao imptiaoned- Hia impeachment in tbe Honae of Lord* by Pym— Otheri who are

unpeasbed ocape Triennial parliaments decreed — Charles obliged to assent — Scottish commisaioners in Lon-

dou-Tbeir favour nith the Engliih patriots.

URING his inglorious campaign,
Charlea was iu constant correspon-
dence with Wentworth, who bad
given him better advice than lie
would take, and who continued
raising and organiiing 10,000 Irish

■vice in Scotland, even after the pa-

cification. Not long after his return from the
Tweed, "as if the oracle of Delphos had been to
be consulted, he sent for his great Lord-depnty
of Ireland." Wentworth came, but "instead of
being made a dictator, he found himself but one
of a triumvirate," being joined with Archbishop

• Hltltrf 41' Ihe Ortmt JIiMfloa.

»Google

*fi2

niSTOHY OF ENGLAND.

(O.T

. ASD MiLiTAnr.

Land B))d UamiltoQ, neither of whom bad lost
one particle of the king's favour and confidence.
Although he had not come ver/nillingly, appre-
hending d&nger to himself — and although he was
hampered by Hamilton, the more timid of hin
colleagues, and bj the queen, who could never
agree with hira^ — Wentworth imparted a new vi-
gour to the king's councils: he recommended a
loan among the great lords and officers of the
crown, and urged a war with the Covenanters,
which he was to manage, and the instant issuing
of writs of ship-money to the amount of ^200,000.
With his old confidence in his own power of se-
ducing, deceiving, or terrifying a parliament, in
a blind forgetfulness of the difference between
English and Irish parliaments, he ventured to re-
commend the calling of one. This resolution was
adopted in a committee, consisting of Archbishop
I^ud, Bishop Jiixon, the Earl uf Northumber-
Und, the Marquis of Mauiiltou,CotLington,Win-
debauk, and Vane, Charles, upon finding the
committee unanimous, put this significant quea-
tiou "If this parliament should prove as unto-
ward as some have lately been, will you then
assist me in such extraordinary v^ayi as in that
extremity shall be thought fit!" They all pro-
mised to assist him, and then Charles reluctantly
agreed that a parliament should be called. But
Wentworth thought it would be well to try au
Irish parliament beforehand; and Cliarles con-
sented that there should be an Irish parliament
also. To reward his past services, and to give
him additional weight and splendour, the king
now bestowed on him that earldom for which he
had BO long been sighing, and, instead of lord-
deputy, named him Lord -lieutenant of Ireland.
On the I2th of January, 1 640, Went worth became
Earl of Strafford; and on the 17th of Miiroh he
obtained from the trembling Irish parliament a
grant of four subsidies, with a promise of two
more if they should be found necessary; and by
the middle ot April, in spite of a distressing and
most painful malady, he was back at court, to
■how Charles bow to manage his English House
of Commons and his Scottish Covenantee.

At last, on the 13th day of April, 164(i, an
English parliament assembled at Westminster.
The king opened the session with a very brief
sj)eech, in which, however, he admitted (what
every body knew) that notliiiig but necessity hail
induced him to call tliem together. Then Sir
John Finch, formerly speaker of the commons,
but now lord-keei«r, delivered a very long speech,
in which he endeavoured, atiove all things, to
convince them that the Soots had grossly insulted
and injured the English nation, as well as their
sovereign— "the most just, the most pious, the
moat gracious king that ever was, whose kingly
molutiona were seated in the ark of his sacred

breast." All that liod happened through Char-
lea's persisting in uot calling together, or Bgi«e-
ing with, the representatives of his people — the
extorting of money by illegal means, the tortur-
ing of the subject, the disgraces sustained by the
national anne at home and abroad, the flames in
Scotland which had almost severed the two king-

doms—was so glaring, that it required all the
audacity of a Finch to make the kin^s disuse of
parliaments a subject of panegyric, and that to
a parliament itself. The lord-keeper told them
that, in former times, indeed, they had been ad-
vised witli for the preventing and diverting of
foreign and domestic dangers; "but herein,"
said he, " his majesty's great wisdom and provi-
dence hath for many years eased you of that
ti-ouble ; his majesty having all the while not
only seen and prevented our danger, but kept up
the honour and splendour of the English crown,
of which at this day we find the happy experi-
ence.' Everything, he maintained, had gone on
lia;)pily and gloriously unld some men of Belial
had blown the trumpet in Scotland, and induced
a rebellious multitude to take up arms against
the Lord's anointeil. He related the events of
last summer's campaign, telling them that his
majesty had entered into pacification with the
Scots, uot through fear or weakness, but out of
his piety and clemency, " Thit summer,* says
Finch, " must uot l)e lost like the last, nor any
minute of time unliestowed t<) reduce those of
Scotland ; lest by our delay they gain lime to

conclude their treaties with foreign stales

Such is the straitness of time, that unless the
subsidies be forthwith passed, it is uot jiossible
to put in order such things as must be prepareil
Wtore so great an army can take the field."
Fmch concluded by telling them that they must
pass a bill, granting tonnage and poundage from

»Google

A.n. 16^>~1(M1.] CHAR

the eommenceinent of bis majeBtj'B reigo, vote
the aabsidiea irutanter, and accept hu majestya
promise, who was moat graciouHl; pleased to give
them hia royal vord, that afterwarda he would
fillow them time to consider of such petitions as
the7 might coneeiva to be for the good of the
commonwealth, aaanriug them that hia majest]'
would go along with them in redressing juat
grievances, like a joat, a pious, and gracious king.
The king hinuelf then produced the letter of the
Scottish lords to the French king, and said, "My
lords, yon shall see he hath spoken nothing hy-
perbolically, nor nothing but what I shall make
good one way or other. And because he did
mention a letter, by which my subjects in Scot-
land did seek to draw in foreign power for aid,
here ia the original letter, which I shall com-
mand him to read unto yoii. And because it
may touch a neighbour of mine, whom I will say
nothing of but tliat which ia just — God forbid I
ahould; for my part I think it was never accepted
of by him: indeed it waa a letter to the French
king, but I know not that ever he had it ; for by
chanix I inlenepltd it as it waa going unto him ;
and therefore I hope you will understand me
right in that' Charles then delivered the lett«r
to Finch, who observed, "The superscription of
the letter is this — ' Au Roy.' For the natnre of
this snperacription, it is well known to all that
know the style of France that it is neverwritten
hy any Frenchman to any hut their own king,
and therefore, being directed ' Au Roy,' it is to
their own king, for so in effect they do by that
superscription acknowledge." He then read the
letter as translated into English from the original
French, which ran thns :—" Sir,— Your majesty
being the refnge and ssnctaary of afflicted prin-
ces and states, we have found it necessary to send
thia gentleman, Mr. Colvil, by him to represent
unto your majesty the candour and ingenuity
as well of our actiona and proceedinga aa of our
intenttona, which we desire should be engraven
and written to the whole world, with the beams
of the ann, na well as to your majeaty. We moat
humbly beseech you, therefore, to give faith and
credit to him and all he shall say on our part
concerning ua and our afiaira, being most assured
of an assistance equal to your accustomed cle-
mency heretofore, and ao often showed
nation, which will not yield to any other what-
soever the glory to be eternally your majesty's
most humble, obedient, and affectionate servants.
(Signed) Rothes, Montrose, Leslie, Mar, Mont-
gomery, Loudon, Forester."' Then the king

1 BvidB thli MtBr, It li innlble Ihit Chulci knew, U laut
in put. th« CFthar B^ntiitloni bMweeo thn Covsnuitaim inA
tba FniKh OHUt.— Lord Hillai r-VcHOn'oIi) hu pabliilMd ■
l«tur tram OaMn] LaiKa ind th* Eul of Rothe* to U» Pranoh

lu ibeb- ni«mngtr to Looli. Hu laltar, II ippaui,

I. 463

added, "Of these gentlemen, who have set their
hands to thia letter, here is one, and I believe
yon would think it very strange if I should not
lay him fast; and therefore I have signed awar-
ranttolayhim close prisoner in the Tower. My
lords, I thiuk (but that I will not say posidvely,
because I wilt not say anything here bnt what
I am sure of) I have the gentleman that ahould
have carried the letter fast enough; but I know
not, I may be mistaken.*

When the king had thus spoken, the lord-
keeper dismissed the commons to their own house,
there to make choice of their speaker. In the
lower house were many of the patriots, or, as the
king had styled them, " the vipera,' that had ao
disturbed his equanimi^ in the last parliament ;
:>ne of the greatest and highest-minded waa
not there. Of those who had been east into pri-
son, all had been liberated upon bail, after a
detention of about eighteen montha, with the
single eieeptioB of the bold and eloquent Sir
John Eliot, the man whom Charles most hated or
feared. WhenhehadlainfouryearsintheTower,
the patriot's health began t» decline rapidly,
and hia friends prevailed upon him to petition
the king. To this petition, which was presen-
ted by the hand of the lieutenant of the Tower,
Charles's only answer was — "It is not humble
enough." Then Eliot sent another petition by
his own son, expressing hia hearty sorrow for
having displeased hia majesty, and humbly be-
seeching him once again to command the judges
to set him at liberty; and when he had recovered
hia health he might return back to his prison,
there to undergo such punishment aa Ood had
allotted him. The lieutenant of the Tower took
offeree at his sending the petition by another
hand than his; but he told him, that if he would
humble himself before hia majesty, acknowledg-
ing hia fault, he would deliver another petition
for him. Sir John, thanking him for his friendly
advice, told him that his spirits had grown feeble
and faint— that when he recovered his former
vigour he might thiuk about it. Cottington,
Wentworth, and others exulted over the intelli-
gence that Sir John was very like to die— and
die he did, a priaoner in the Tower, on the 27th
of November, 1632! But Charlea'a revenge was
not aatiafied by mournful decay, a perishing by
inchea, nor by death itaelf. One of hia victim's
sons petitioned his majesty, that he would be
pleased to permit the body of their father to he
carried into ComwaJl, there to be buried, in hie
native soil, among hia ancestors. Charlea wrote
at the foot of the petition, " Let Sir John Eliot's
body be buried in the church of that parish where

„ Google

464

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil axd Militaet.

Le died;' and accordinKly it was tbnut into bu
obeeure corner of the Tower Ginrch.' Sir £d-
ward Coke hod gone to his grave abont two yeare
after Eliot, full of ywn and honours, having
effaced the recollection uf hia early career by
his manly stmgglea ou the patiiotic side. Be
also, in a manner, had been penecuted to the
death.

It has been said aod proved that, on the whole,
this present House of CommonB was well dis-
posed towards the king's service, and as little in-
fluenced by their many wrongs as any man of
ordinary judgment could expect; yet there were
undoubtedly many futhf ul, affectionate, and bold
hearts that burned and flained with the memory
of the wrongs done to ElioL And f<»«most
among Uiese was his bosom friend Hampden,
who had taken his seat for the town of Budcing-
ham. The moat coiiapicoous of the other old
members were JOenzil HoUis, Maynard, Oliver
St. John, Pym, Strode, Corriton, Hayman, Ha-
selrig, and Outbb Cnoifwxu., who now sat for
the town of Cambridge.

The commons, who knew what tbe king's word
ws> worth, resolved not to take it, or to depart
from their old practice of making the redress, or
at least the discussion of grievances precede
their votes of supply. They took up the question
of reli^on, privil^esof parliament, abuse of jus-
tice, and the infringement of the common liber-
ties of the land, and, as formerly, they settled
committees for examining these high mnttera.
Boms of them had suggested the petitioning of
parliament against the impost of ship-money;
several petitions from the counties were conse-
quently received, and the practice of petitioning,
a progress in constitntional liberty, began to be
common. Arthur Capel delivered in the first
petition, which was from the freeholdera of the
county of Hertford, complaining of ship-money,
m<mopoUee, the Star Chamber, the High Com-
misMon Court, &e. The first who stood up boldly
to speak was Harbottle Grimston. Harbottle
Qrimston was followed by Sir Benjamin Bud-
yard, who congratulated the house on their being
called together. *' We are here," he said, " by the
blesung of God snd onr king. Parliaments have
of late days become unfortunate ; it is our dnty,
by onr good temper and carriage, to restore them
to their ancient lustre. . . . A parliament is the
bed of reconciliation between king and people,
and therefore, it is fit for us to lay aside all ex-
asperations, and carry ourselves with humility."
And it must be confessed that, though firm and
dedded, their whole tone and carriage wea hum-
ble and res|>ectful. The house on the following
day (April 17th) fell again upon the subject of

• Hvl. MHa.; Funtw'i Lini <if BniiA iHttlaiim.- Lionl
Kncmt'i Kmtriaii if ItuMfdm. BH<iit,Tol. U, f. 17.

grievances in general, in consequence of petitions
brought in by the members for Easex, Suffolk,
andotherconnties; and upon tiiatday the learned
and laborious Fym delivercdaspeech of extraor^
dinary length end still more extraordinary ability.
" The first of grievances,", said he, " are those
which, during this interval of eleven years, have
been directed against the liberties and privileges
of parliament I will show that the per-
mission of them is as prejudicial to hia majnty
as to the commonwealth. I will show what way
they may be remedied, sod in all these I shall
take care to maintain the great preT(^[ative of
royalty, which is, that the king can do no wrong."
And throughout his discourse, he steadily kept
the line which separates the king from his min-
isters, urpng the responsibility of the latter.
On the next day, the 18th, many memben spoke,
and the honsevoted that theprooeedings remain-
ing upon record in the King's Bench and Court
of Star Chamber against Sir John Eliot, Mr.
Hollis, and the other imprisoned members of
the parliament of 162S, should be sent for and
referred to a committee. They also ordered tliat
the records in the case of ship-money, which
concerned Hr. Hampden, should be brought into
the bouse. On Monday the SDth, aftor examin-
ing the conduct of Sir John Finch in the last
parliament, they resolved that it was a breach of
privilege for the speaker not to obey the com-
mands of the hoase; and that it appeared the
Bpeaker, Finch, did adjourn the house, by com-
mand of the king, without consent of the house,
which also was a breach of privil^e,and one
that ought to be presented to hia majesty. The
very next day Charles, irritated as much as ever
with the most moderate mention of the word
grievance, summoned both houses before him in
the Banqueting Hall. He did not speak him-
self, but stood by, while my Lord -keeper Finch
schooled the commons. Finch told them tluit
they ought to remember the causes of calling
this parliament, which were for obtaining of aa-
sistauce and supplies of money; that such and so
great were his majesty's necessities that if they
did not vote the supplies speedily they might as
well not Tote them at all.* Once more the lord-
keeper recommended to their admintion, and
their imitation, the conduct of Wentworth'a brow-
beaten Irish parliaments. "For his kingdom of
Ireland,' said he, " the last parliament before
this, the very second day of tlie parliament thej
gave him six suheidies; thej relied upon his gra-
cious word, and the success was, that before the
end of that parliament they hail all they did
desire granted.' [The truth being, as the reador
will remember, that aa soon ns the money was

Mtd dotb (tuul hti m^Htj ia M lout CIOO.OOO ci

,v Google

.u. 1640-1641.]

CHARLES I.

465

voted, Weulivorth and Charfes bi'oke &I1 their
proiuiaea, aud infused to entei'taiii the question

of grievances.')

But the commons would not be cajoled ; and,
on the following day, when Finch's B|*ech in the
Banqueting House came to be diaciiised, Ed-
mund Waller, the poet, a member of the house,
and of many succeeding parliaments, eloquently
i-laimed precedence of grievances over supplies.

" Look back,' said Waller, " upon the best par-
liainentB, and still you shall find that the last
acta passed are for the gifts of subsidies on the
people's )>nrt, and genei'al pardons on the king's
l>art: eveii the wisest kiiigd have flrat acquainted
tlieii- parlianieuU with their designs, and the
reasons thereof ; and I^en demanded the assistance
both of their counsels aud puntes. . . . Nurshall
we ever discharge the trust of those that sent us
hither, or make them believe that they contri
bute to their own defence and safety, unless his
majesty be pleased first to restuiti tliem to the
|)ropriety in their own goods and lawfiil liberties,
whereof they esteem themselves now out of pos-
session. Une need not tell you that the propriely
ofgoodsis the mother uf courage, and the nurse uf
industry; it makes us valiaut in war, and good
husbands in peace. The experience 1 have of
former iiarliaments, ami my present obsei'vuliou
of the care the country has had to choo^ jwr-
sons of worth and counige, make me think this
house like the S|)nrtanH, wliose foi-wanl valour
required some softer musiu to allay itnd quiet
their sjiirits, too much moved with the ii<>und of
martial instmnienls. 'Tis n<it tlie fear of inipri-
sonnieut, or (if need l>e) of death iLtelf, that can
kee]) n true-hearted Englishmnn fi^oin the care

Vol II. ■ ' "■''

to leave this [Mii-t of his inhei-itance as entire to
posterity as he received it fi-oni his ancestors."
In the aflernoon the comuions sent up to desire
a conference with the loivis; but their niessengera
found the door of the lorila closed against (hem.
On the following day the loriU sent a message to
excuse their refusal, njwn the grounds of havin<;
had weighty buBineaa on hand, and his majesty
present among them. Infact, Cliarles had gone
down to the Honse of Lonls and taken them by
Hurpriite,in order to induce them to jnterfei-e about
the moneys; audit appears that the commons had
sent to request the conference at (he moment
they did, iu oi-der to show that they were aware
of this visit. On Saturday the lords desired a
conference with the commons, and, ou the Mon-
day following, Mr, Herbert, the queen's solicitor-
geueral, reported the matter of the confei-ence,
which was mainly about the quickening speech
which the king had ilelivereJ during bis sudden
visit to the lords. This speech was n studietl
laudation of (he peerit, and an angry rebuke of
the commons. Cliarles gave the lords to under-
stand that the necessity of his affairs would bear
no delay ; that he mast huve the subsidies ; tiiat
be thought that, iu civility and good manners, it
was fit for him to be truste<< first; that the com-
mons considering their grievances before hia
wants \tas putting the cart before the horse; that
the war was begun; that the men of Scotland
had pitched their tents at Dunse, and threatened
nn invasion in Noi-thuinberlaud, having already
taken (irisoners some English tioopei-s. Then
followed the old promises and assumuces about
religion, tonnage and poundage, and ship-money.
And now the lords told the commons, that, hav-
ing the wonl of a king— and, as some of their
lordships were pleased to say, not only of a king,
but a gentleman— Ihey would no more be guilty
of distrasting him, than they would be capable
of the highest undulifulness t^jwards him. And
upon all these considerations, though their lord-
ships woidd not meddle with mattersof subsidy,
which belonged properly and naturally to the
commons— no, not so much as to give advice
herein — 3'et, being membeis of one body, sub-
jects of the same king, and equally concerned in
the nation's safely, in their iluty to his majesty,
nnd in their natuiul love U> their country, them-
selves, and thfir jiosterity, they had declared and
voted in their own house that they held it niost
neces'tHi'y and fit that the matter of supply should
have precedence of every oilier matter or consi.
deration whatitoever. The commons, after long
debate, resolved that herein the lonls had vio-
lated Ihe |ii-ivilegps of their house ; and they im-
mediately ivferred the matter to a committee,
which declared that the lords* voting alxiut eu|>-
plies was n moat, grievous breach of i)rjvilc};e.

• Google

mSTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[CiT

. «M> UlUTABT.

They then demanded Miotber coofemce, and
haring obtained it, they insieted, not onlj that
the lorda dionld never peddle with matter of
supplies, bnt also that they should not take notice
of anything debated by the commoDS, nntil they
themaelves shoald declare the oame to their lord-
ships— a rule, they said, which the commous
would alurays observe with their lordshipi^ pro-
ceedingD. The lords proteated that they had no
intentiou whatever of invading any of the privi-
leges of the commoDK; but the court soon deter-
mined Again to put the upper house in a false

Upon Thursday, the 3i>th of April, the lower
boose resolved itself into n gran<l committee cou-
ceming ship-money, upon a fnll report made of
that busiiie.-M by Mr. Maynard. In the very midst
of tliia debate— and of course expressly to stop it
— the lords sent to demand another conference.
The majority of the members seemed unwilling
to be diverted from the debate; and upon a divi-
sion, in ft very full bouse, S.'J? voted against, and
14S /or a present conference. The conference
was put off till the morrow, and they proceeded
with the graud business of ship-money. On the
following day the Lord-keeper Finch, at the
conference, told the commons again tliat their
lordships well knew and infinitely respected the
privil^es of their house; that they had only
stepped forward out of affection to his majesty,
and consideratiou of the great evils and calami-
ties that were hanging over their heads, Ac.
Finch then endeavoured to show that the lords
were bound to gratify the king, and that their
voting the precedency of supply was no infringe-
meut of the commons' privilege. The whole of
this speech had a moat mischievous efiect, and,
notwithstanding its disclaimers, the commons
suspected that all their other privileges were to
be swallowed up, and they made wholly subser-
vient to the peers,' On Saturday, the 2d of Afay,
f.'harles sent Sir Henry Vane, now secretary of
state as well as treasurer of the household, to
tell ttiem that the dauger of the nation would
be greatly increased if more time were lost; that
he bad received no answer at all from them,
though be had already told the house that
[lelay would be as destructive as a denial; that
he once more desired an immediate answer con-
cerning his supplies,he being resolved, on his psrt.
to made good all his promises made by himself
or by the lord-kee|>ev. The house debated upon
this message UU the then unusually late hour
of six ill the evening, but came to no resolution.
Sscretary Vane, CInrendnn sayn, treacherously,
and without the king'* onlera (ip/tirJi it veiy im-
pmbabU, and te«rm la be ditprtrMd bi/ atteiuiing
etrcimninr«i), aasured the commons tlmt the

king would accept of nothing leas from them than
an immedistegnntJDgof twelve subsidies. Many
of the members observed that, if they were thus
to purchase a release from an imposition very
nnjuatly laid upon the kingdom, they should in
a manner confess it bad been a just tax. As to
the king's constant asertions about the great
danger of the nation, there was hardly a man iu
the House of Commons that believed thein — -
there were many who looked to the Scotch Cove-
nanters as their best friends.

The day after the delivery of Vane'a first mes-
sage was a Sunday, but ou Monday (the 4th of
May) the king seut Sir Henry to the House of
Commons with a aecoud urgent message. The
commons went again into a committee of the
whole house to consider it. But though they
spent the whole day tilt six at night in busy de-
bate, they came to no resolution, and sejiarated
with desiring Sir Henry Vane to acquaint his
majesty that they would resume the question at
eight o'clock ou the following momiog. On that
miHuing, at an earlier hour than eight, the king
sent Secretary Wiudebauk to the house of Ser-
jeautGlanvil,tbe speaker, who lived in Cliancery
Lane, with a command to bring him to Wliite-
hall. The commons met at the appointed hour,
and were alarmed at the non-appearance of their
speaker; and, wlUle they were discoutaiog with
one another, Jamea Maxwell, gentleman usher,
came with the black rod, to let them know that
his majesty was in the House of Lords, and ex-
pected their coming thither. Charlea, in effect,
by the advice of Laud and of all his council, with
the exception of the Earls of Northumberland
and Holland, had resolved upon an immediate
dissolution; for Vane and the Solicitor-general
Herbert, on tbe preceding evening, had told him
that the commons, if permitted to sit again, would
pass such a vote against ship-money as vrould
blast not only that revenue (we should have
tliought it had been blasted enough already), but
also other branches of the king's receipts.' Left
without their speaker, whom Charles, no doubt
to Olanvil's owu satisfaction, had made fast iu
the palace, the commons could neither vote nor
proteet as a house; and so they rose quietly, aud
followed black rod to the House of Lords. Wbeu
they appeared at the bar, Charles pronounced
their sentence of dissolution iu a speech of some
length. As on a former occasion, he praised tlie
upper bouse at the expense of the lower one,
telling tlie lords that it was neither their fault
nor his that this psrliameut hn<l not come to a

J >1I into DonfiulDii ; ha bglng kncwD Id han an InpUatate
J hUndigslnitthaEu'lgfStnB'anl.I.liiuunuitiirlnliuid.irlHH
I (iMtncilm WW Uhii nixni UwnnTil."

,v Google

AD, IMO— 1041.] CHAB

happy end; aod, praiaing their lordahipe' williog
ear and great affection, he bade them remember
the comm&uds he Lad prea at the opeuing of
this p&rliament, and then compl&iDed of the com-
moiis not taking hia promiaes in exchange for
JDBtant Bubaidiea. Thia time, however, he did
uot call the oppioaition "vipers." "I wilt not,"
he aatd, "la^ tJiia fault on the whole House of
Commons; I will not judge ao nncharitablj of
thoae whom, for the moat part, I take to be loyal
and well-affected aabjecta; but it hath been the
malicious cunning of sume few seditiously-afiected
men that hath been the canse of thia misunder-
standing.' He concluded with aajing, "Aafor
the libwty of the people, that thej now so muL'h
startle at, know, my lords, that no king in the
world ehall be mere careful in the propriety of
their goods, liberty of their persons, and true re-
ligion, than I shall. And now, my lord-keeper,
do as I have commanded yon." Then Finch stood
np, and added, "My lords, and you, the gentle-
men of the House of Commona, the king'a majesty
doth diaaolve this parliameDt." This, the last
diawlution which Charles was to make, took place
on the Sth of May, 1640.

Even in the eyes of the king's friends he had
committed a most lamentable mistake. Accord-
ing to Clarendon, " thei-e could not a greater
damp have seized upon the spirits of the whole
nation than this dissolution caused, and men had
much of the misery in view which shortly after
fell out. It could never be hoped that more sober
and dispassionate men' would ever meet together
in that place, or fewer who brought ill purposes
with them; norconld any man ima^ne what of-
fence they had ^ven which put the king apon
that resolution." But if hia enemies rejoiced and
his friends grieved at the measure, Charles him-
self either felt no r^ret or concealed it. He put
forth a declaration to all his loving subjects of
the causes which moved him to dissolve the last
parliament, in which he charged the commons
with venting their own malice and disaffection to
the state, instead of using dutiful ezpressiona to-
wards his person and government; with their
subtle and malignant courses intending nothing
leu than to bring all government and magistracy
into contempt, and all this, in spite of hia own
piety and goodness; with presuming to interfere
in acts of his government and council, taking
npon themselves to be guiders and directors in all
matters both temporal and ecclesiastical; and,
"as if kings were boond to give an account of

' Mr RUlua hu •ho.m tb«t lU the priBcljuU dhd "ho
bMikd tha popolu partT <° th* Ion! FirlUnHut ■«• atta-
Inn tpf thl«— ttuit tin diWirti™ WW DDl to nmeh In lb* mMm
Id ttw tlmH ; the had admiiiMMtion, and bad aacceaa irf IM,
m mil ai the dtonlaUoa of the ibort paiUaisaiit, baTlng gntlij
HfTBTBtAl the pntilki dlaconlanta in IbalnaTTal " -'— -■
bMrnan tlu dlaKdiinf of thia and t
partlament. — OmM. Hi^,

ofof tbanai'

LE3 I. -167

their royal actions, and of their manner of go-
vernment, to their subjects asaembled in parlia-
ment," in a very audacious and insolent way,
censuring the present government, traducing his
majesty's admin istratioa of justice, i-endering his
officers and ministers of state odious to the rest
of his subjects, and not only this but his majesty's
very goverament, which had been so just, so
graciooa, that never was the like in thia or any
other nation; with having delayed the supplies
in spite of all his promises, and introducing a way
of bargaining and contracting with the kiug, as
if nothing ought to be ^ven him by them but
what he should buy and purchase of them, either
by quitting somewhat of his royal prerogative,
or by diminishing and lesaeniug his revenues,'
And, as if the unconstitutional practice of im-
prisoning members for words spoken in the house
had not made bad blood enough — as if the case
of Sir John Sliot bad been forgotten by the na-
tion and those booom friends who were morally
strengthened by his slow martyrdom in the Tower
— ^Charles committed several members the very
day after the dissolution. Mr, Bellaais and Sir
John Hotham were sent to the Fleet Prison by
a warrant signed by Laud, Strafford, Hamilton,
Windebank, Goring, and sixteen other ministers
or members of the council. The only offence
alleged agaiust them waa that of their speeches.
Mr. John Crew, afterwards liord Crew, waa com-
mitted to the Tower by a warrant signed by Laud,
Strafford,Windebanl£,(joring, and sin other mem-
bers of the council. His offence was the not dis-
covering or delivering up certain petitions, papers,
and complaints which he had received in parlia-
ment, being in the chair of the committee for the
redress of religious grievances.' The house of
the Lord Brooke waa searched for papera, and
his study and cabinets were broken open.

Previously to the meeting of parliament, Laud
had summoned a convocation of the clergy, and
this body continued to ait in spite of the disso-
lution of parliament, which was considered very
illegal.* Nor would Land, and those who acted
under him in thia assembly, be warned by the
eigna of the times and the spirit shown by the
dissolved parliament: oppressors to the last, they
enacted a number of new constitutions, which
were all shattered at the tirat meeting of the
Long Parliament. They ordered that every cler-
gyman should instruct his parishioners once a
quarter in the Divine right of kings and the
damnable sin of I'esistance to authority. They
added canons chaiiged with exaggerated intoler-
ance against Catholics, Sociniana, and SeparatislA
From Northamptonshire, Kent, Devonshire, and
other counties, spirited petitions and exceptions

1 Fad. HIK.: XiuAnff*

>yGoo^le

488

lUti-J'OBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

. AND Mjlitari

w«re sent up against these cudoiib; the nation
WAS in a ferment; but Charles obtwnecl from the
gratitude of Land and his clergy in ronvocattoi)
a grant of six aubaidies, each of four ahillingH in
the pound, which money was expressly destined
for the scourging of tlie stiff-necked Scots, and
the uprooting of Presbyterianisra.' But this was
not money enough for such great undertakings,
nod Charles "feli rniindly to find out all expe-
dients for tlie raising of mnre"' Fi'esh collec-
tions were made by means of the queen and Sir
Kenelm Digby among the Roman Cntholica ;
writs of Bliiji-raoney were issued in greater num-
bers and enforced with more severity than ever,
merchants and gentlemen of landed property be-
ing alraostdaily star-chambered on this account;
great loans were attempted to be drawn from the
city of London, for which pur-
pose the names of the richest citi-
zens were, by royal command,
returned to the council-board.
These oppressive exactions being
still found insuHicient, bullion
was seized in the Tower, bags of
pepper upon the Exchange, and
sold at an under i-ate, and a con-
sultation WHS held about coining
£-100,000 of base money; but
here the merchants and other in-
telligent men stepped in to show
the great inconvenience and pe-
rils which always attended a
depreciatiou of the coinage, and
Charles for once listened to good
advice and held his hand, not-
withstanding the precedent thr Ai
quoted by his council. ' Goods
were bought on long credit and sold at a loss
for ready money ; large sums were raised in the
counties where troops were quartered tor the
northern wars by actual violence, or horses,
carts, provisions, and forage were taken from the
people at the sword's point. The mayor and
sherifis of London were dragged into the Star
Chamber for slackness in levying sbip-money;
and SIrafford observed, that things would never
go right tilt a few fat London aldermen were
hanged. Four aldermen, Soames, Atkins, Sain-
ton, and Geere, were committed by warrant of
the privy council, because, being summoned be-
fore the hoani — his majesty present in council —
Iliey had refuses) to set down the names of such
persons within their several an<l respective wards,
who, in their opinions, were able to lend his ma-
jesty money (or the safeguard and defence of the

• JtutmrfA.- tfa): llnr-Irictt SlBlr Fapirt; A'aTlim.

' Qu«n tliubctb h»l itFliunl tUs CDinA{t duiinj hn Irlih

realm, &c. The effect of this "setting in motion
all the wheels of the prerogative"' was inevitable.
And it is generally admitted that it was now that
the discontented English drew closer their bonds
of friendship with the Covenanters, and that
many of the king's own offjcers, and some of his
ministers, concerted measures with Loudon, and
Leslie, and other Scottish leaders. Laud's frienil
Pierce, Bishop of Bath and Wells, had calle-i
this Scottish war "betluia Epitooprde" (a war for
Episcopacy), and such the English people were
disposed to consider it. During the sitting of the
convocation, a libel, or paper, was posted up at
the Koyal Exchange, inviting the London appren-
tices, who were rather prone to mischief, to rise
and sack the archiepiscopal palace of Lambeth.
The invitation was accepted, and, on the night

of the nth of May, a nioli, consisting almost en-
tirely of apprentices and youths, fell upon the
said palace. But laud had had time to garrison
and fortify his residence ; the rioters were not
very numerous, and he "had no harm."' "Since
then," he says, "I have got cannons and fortified
ray house, and hope all may be safe; but yet li-
bels are constantly set up in all places of note in
the city."' Ten days after, this gentle represen-
tative of the apostles enters in his diary — "One
of the chief being taken, was condemned at South-
wark on Thursday, arid hanged and tfimrterrd
on Saturday morning following." The victim, it
ajipears, was a stripling, and the horrid punisU-

11 liii diai7, ■>;■:-

■MV

{iDg. and ■ti<ni:tii>nei] ths faotiM u mil u I mukl. wkd Oud

»Google

AD. 1640 1041] CHAI

:nent of treason naa awanled tii liiiu by the coui-t
lawyers becatiiie there ha|jpeiied to be a dmm
with the mob; and the marching to beat of dram
was held to be a levying of war againnt the king.
Many others were aiTeated; but "some of these
mutinous people came in the daytime, a iii) broke
opeo the White Lion Prison, and let loose their
fellows, both out of that prison and the King's
Bench, and the other prisoners out of the White
Lion."' Clarendon says that "this infamous,
Hcandaloiis, headless iusurrection, quashed with
the deserved death of that one varlet, was not
thought to be contrived or fomented by any per-
sons of quality."

Begardlesa of the royal prerogative, the Scot-
tish parliament met ou the 2d of June, and put
forth n series of manifestoes, which had more
weight in England, as well as in Scotland, than
all the royal proclamations. But they had not
waited so long to organize their resistance ; they
called out their levies in ^fa^ch and April, ami,
having retained their superior officers and their
skilful commanders from abroad when they dis-
banded their army the preceding year, they were
soon in a condition to act on the offensive; for,
again, they did not wait for attack, but struck
the first blow themselves,' Leslie was appointeil
commander-in-chief of the army of the Covenant,
and, being resolved not to move southward till
he was miiflter of Jkiinburgh Castle, he laid siege
to that fortress ; but Ruthven, the governor,
made an obstinate resistance. Leslie Intrusted
the conduct of the siege to some of his best offi-
cers, and went southward, and it was not till he !
wad victorious on the Tyue that he learned that j
Ruthven was constrained to capitulate, and de- 1
liver up the castle to the Covenanters. The par- 1
liament imposed a tax of a tenth upon every man's !
rents, and the twentieth penny of interest on
loans, lie., throughout the kingdom of Scotland;
andbefore they adjourned they appointed a stand-
ing committee of estates, to superintend the ope-
rations of the campaign, to sit in the cabinet at
Eiiinburgh, to move with the troops, to be in
the camp or wherever else their presence should
t>e most required. In fact, the whole executive
power of the state was fixed by this parliament
in their standing committee. Having got all

lUod'* DUt-r ^CltitB'ion uji tint tbeminwuiuiilor;
•lory, ■■(In Ihn FrldoT."«Jt » eontmipoMrr, '

LES L 469

things ready, the Covenanters resolved to enter
England with a sword in one hand and a petition
in the other, signifying, in the meantime, to the
English people, what their intentions were, and
the reasons of their invasion.

Charles, StrofTonl, and tlie £iu-t of Northum-
berhind thought that they had provided for the
worst in making the Lord Conway general of the
horse, instead of the Earl of Holland. " He was
sent down with the first troops of horse and foot
which were levied to the boi'ders of Scotland, to
attend the motion of the enemy, and had a
strength sufficient to stop them, if they should
attempt to pass the river, which was not fordable
in above one or two places, there being good gar-
risons in Berwick and Carlisle."'

Conway was in cantonment between the Tweed
and the Tyne by the end of July. Upon the
20th of Augnst Charles began his Journey frora
London towards York in some haste; and ou
that very day Leslie dashed across the Tweed
with his Covenanters.* Charles published a pro-
clamation, d«claring the Scots, and all who in

knlln

htTi»e

oiaminalioii on tta* nek bit Frul^." In i
t1i4 Jixlgei had v4Biniily decl<l«l agalntt tlie

laiHl. Ill Hiilnf^LiMnt fioiplDjmflnt

dcHibl*] tbat Lt wu perpatTAted bj
piwnfid tha atneUna aecnt Iq t

and it

any way nssistecl them, tA be rebels and traitors,
and to liave incurred the penalties of high tren-

baTsaUnclsd Iba iHriiuaf llw Long rarlian»nt. Thadniuni

ply'nf ths tortun ilill cilili io Iha Gtits Paptr Offlcs. It hai
been |:rlnted bj Ur. Jinlina in hit liitrccUing tnct on IhB t'H
1/ Taillirt in EaglaaJ, S>a, 18^7, pp. IDS, 10!>. Ths poor Tlclim

i«i wbentsr Uie)i could Sod them. ■ Clanndan.

* Ooa part of the Scottish mttpj fT<««d at a fbrd t
oldilnam ; another part it ■ ford low« don-n tbe liiai

»Google

470

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[ClTlL AND MiLITARr.

son; ypt he declared that be would forgive the {
Scots if they would "acknowledge their former
crimes and eiorbilaucies, and in humble and
Bubmisaive manner, tilie penitent delinquents,
iTave pardon for the past, and yield
obedieuce for the time to come.'" He
also declared himself generalissimo of
his own army, and claimed the at-
tendimce of all the tenants of the
crown, as upon a war waged by the
sovereign in person. Numerically
the royal army actually coHeeted was
an impouug force: — without count-
ing the tnin-bands of the northern
counties, or the Irish ti-oope brought
over by Strafford, or about to be sent
over by the Earl of Orraond, it was
20,000 strong, and provided with 60
pieces of ortilleiy. But it waa impos-
inginnnmbeTsonly: discipline, which
can make ten men more effective than
a hundred, and the hearty zeal in the
cause, and attachment to the banner
of their leaders, which can almost do Kivbiim

aa much, were altogether wanting.
The Earl of Northumberland had been offered
the post of commander-in-chief, under the king ;
. but he declined the dangerous honour, on the
ground of a very doubtful sickness, and it was
conferred upon Strafford, who had really risen
from a eick-bed, and was not yet cured of s.
dreadful attack of his old enemy the gout. Strat-
ford, knowing that his undisciplined levies and
wavering officers would be no match for the well-
drilled Scots, and the experienced captains that
commanded them, hod ordered Lord Conway not
to attempt to dispute the open country between
ibe Tweed and the Tyne, but, at all hazards, to
make good his sland at Newhum, and prevent
I he Covenanters htim crossing the latter liver
But before Charles could get farther dorth than
Northallerton, or Strafford than Darlington, Con-
way was in full retreat, and the Scots upon the
Wear, and "that infamous, irreparable rout at
Newbum had fallen out." '

Upon Thursday, the 2Tth of August, Leslie
nnd his Scots encamped on the left bank of the
Tyne, a very short distance from Newburn, at a
spot called Heddon-law. That night they made
great fires round ubont their camp. During the
night they suffered any Englishman that chose
to visit them, making them welcome, and assur-
ing them that they only came to demand justice
from the king against incendiaries. In the course
of the following day, Conway drew up the king's
army, consisting of 3000 foot and ISOO hone, in
some meadow ground close on the south bank of
the river, between Newbumhaugh and Stella-

hsngh, which faced two fords, passable for infan-
try at low water. During tlie forenoon the Scot«
watered their horses at one side of the river, and
the English at the other, without any attempt to

r, NURTaVHSCRLAND.— Ficnaikctchbj J. W. Cannidiul.

annoy each other— without eichanging any re-
proachful language. For many hours the two
forces looked at each other calmly, and without
any apparent anxiety to engage. At last a
Scottish officer, well mounted, wearing a black
feather in his hat, came out of Newbum to water
his horse in the river Tyne ; and an English sol-
dier, seeing this officer Gx his eye ou the English
ti'enches, fired at him, whether in earnest or to
scare him was not known, but the shot took effect,
and the officer with the black feather fell woun-
ded off his horse. Thereupon the Scottish muske-
teers opened a fire across the river \ipon the
English, and Leslie ordered his artillery to com-
mence. The Scots played upon the English
breast-works, and the king's army retaliated
upon Newbum Church, till it grew to be near
low water, by which time the Scottish artillery
had made a breach in the greater sconce, where
Colonel Lunsford commanded. The English colo-
nel had great difficulty to keep his men to their
post, for several had been killed, and many
wounded, and when they saw a captain, a lieu-
tenant, and some other officers slain, they began
to murmur; and, after receiving another well-
directed shot from the Scots, «iey thr«w down
their arms and ran out of the fort. Leslie, from
the rising hill above Newburn, plainly perceiveil
this evacuation, and it being then low water, he
commanded his own body-gViard — a troop of
twenty-six horse, and all ,Scotc/i /aiejers--tn pass
the ford, which they did with great spirit, and
having reconnoitred the other sconce, or breast-
work, they rode back, without coming to dose

,v Google

AD. 1640-16J1.] CHAF

quATtera. Still keepiDg up his fire, he at length
made the EDgliah foot to waver, and fiDsIly com-
jielled them to abandon thut work alao. Then
Leslie played hard upon the king's horse, drawu
up in the meadow, and so galled them that they
felt into disorder, which was greatly increased
when the Scottish lawyers charged again with a
body of cavalry under Sir Thomas Hope, and two
Scottish regiments of foot, commanded by the
Lords Lindsay and Loudon, waded through the
river. Presently Leslie threw more troops, both
horse and foot, on the right bank, and then Co-
lonel Luusford drew off alt hie counou, and a
retreat was sounded by the English trumpets.'
AfCvr this short struggle the English fled in the
greatest disorder to Newcastle. Nor did they
consider themselves safe there, for the Lord Con-
way called a council of war, and it whs resolved,
nt twelve o'clock at night, that the town was
not tenable,' and that the whole army should
fall back instantly upon Durham. In the whole
battle — if battle it may be called— there fell not
II bove sixty Englishmen : it was evident that they
had no mind to fight tlie Scots in this quarrel.

Bj five o'clock on the following morning, Au-
gust the S9th, Newcastle was evacuated, and all
that part of the English army in full retreat.
For a time it apjiears the Scots could scarcely

.ES L 471

believe their good fortune; but, in the afternoon,
Douglas, afaeritr of Teviotdale, rode up witbv
trumpet and a small troop of horse to the gates
of Newcastle, which, after some parley, were
thrown open to him. The following day, being
Sunday, Douglas and fifteen Scottish lords dined
with the mayor. Sir Peter Riddle, drank a health
to the king, and heard three sermons preached
by their own divines. Conway did not consider
Durham more tenable than Newcastle : he pur-
sued his retreat to Darlington, where he met
the fiery Strafford, who, however, was faiu to turu
with him, and fall still farther back to Northal-
lerton, where the standard of Charlea was float-
iug.* Leslie soou quitted Newcastle, and was
marching after tliem, so, having hastily reviewed
their foii^s, and found them greatly tliiuiiiished
by desertion, the king, Strafford, and Conway
all niovetl together from Northallerton, and fell
back upon the city of York, with the intention
of intrenching close under the walls of that town,
and sending back their cavalry int« Itichmoud
or Cleveland, to guard the river Tees and keep
the Scots from making incursions into Vork-
shire, I^eslie took Durliani
- . . as he had taken Newcastle ;

— and the Soots entered with-

out opposition into Shields,
Teignmoulh, and other pla-
ces. Without losing twenty
men they became masten uf
nearly the whole of the four
northern counties of Eug-
land. But though the road
to York seemed open to
them, though the disaffec-
tion of the inhabitants was
well known, they paused
upon the left bank of the
Tees. On the 11th of Sep-
tember, when the Londoners
were already greatly dis-
!,„ mayed by the notion that

they should get no more coaU
from Ni-weastle, his majesty took a view of his
army under the walls of York, and found that it
still consisted of 1«,0II0 foot, and StXKI horse,
liesides the trained banils of Yorkshire. " Braver

> 8tnflbnl, uculdjng lu CUnndnn. hid bnught widi "
IhhIj much brakaD wiDi bin lata ■IckiiM. * mind a»l uiapi
wnreHins ths dngi of It, 'hich. being nanalloiuly pruTuki
■nd Infimmod with Indignal

II, luB insllDnl to nuke bJmHif » I
entnciu InlD bli ckiife ; it nur b
nolquictklf d

,v Google

472

inSTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and Milit&ht.

l>odie8 of men, and better clad," wr<ite Sir Henry
Vane to Secretary Wiudebauk, "have I not seen

anywhere So, if God eends lie hearts anJ

hauds . . . and so as you do provide us munies
ill time, I do not see, thougli
it must be confessed they
[the Scots] have made but
too far and prosperous ad-
vance already into this kiug-
dom, but that, God being
with h\» majesty's nriuy,
RUCceBS will follow."'

But, to say nothing of
God's blessing, which Ad
preachers said he liad, heart
aud money were both want-
ing ; aud the iuiwel(»me
conviction induced Charles
to turn a ready ear to those
who ui^ged the uecessity of
temporizing with the Scots.

He condescended to receive vnn:i, fiiini

as envoy ulid negotiator the

Loi-il Lanark, secretary of state for Scotland,
and brotlier to the Marquia of HamilUm, who
presented the petition of the Coveoantei^ to his
majesty. Charles, on the Sth of September,
^•Hve a gentle but evasive answer to the Earl of
Lanark, telling him that he was always ready
to redress the grievances of his {)eople ; that the
petition he had presented was conceived iu too
general terms, but that, if he would return with
a inure specific statement of their grievances, he
would give them hin earliest attention. Even at
thia extremity, lie was most averse to the aum-
moiiingof a parliament: but he thought (most
unreasonably) to satisfy the Scots by telling Lau-
nrk that he had already issued BUiuiuouses for
tiie meeting of the peers of England, iu the city
of York, on the 24th day of September. On the
Hth of Sei>temb«r the Covenantera sent I«nBrk
Ik list of tlieir grievances and conditions, express-
ing their gi«at joy at learning that his majesty
was beginning again to hearken to their humble
(letitions and desires.

These demands, though respectfully expressed,
were not altogether moderate ; hut ('liarles read
them, pretended to entertain them, and, with
indignant pride, turned to Straffonl to know whe-
ther 2l),nuo men conhl not l>e brought over i»-
ulauier from Ireland ; and he looked to other
quarters to see whether there were not means for
resisting and chastising the Scot<-li rebels. But
tliei-e were none : the whole nation was in dis-
I'ontent and ferment, aud the pi-oviuceti occujiied
by the Seols cried with an alarming voice to be
leleased from tlie burilen of supporting thcin.
M ih.- Bniiie time C'lnirlcs was bem-t by Knudish

subjects, who clamoured for a new parliament
and the redress of their own crying grievances.
Twelve peers— Bedford, Essex, Hertford, Wai-
wiiV, Bristol, Mulgrave, Say and Sele, f?oward

Bolingbroke, Mandevill, Brooke, and Pngett —
presented a petition to the sovereign. At the
same time the citizens of London prepared a pe-
tition to the same effect. Laud aud the privy
council, sitting in the capital, got sight of a copy
of this petition as it was being circulated for sig-
nature, and thereupon they endeavoured to stop
the proceedings and terrify the subscribers.'
But the citizens disre^i-ded their letter, put
nearly llt,(K1() names to the petition, and de-
spatched some of the court of aldermeu and cooi-
mun council to present it to the king at York.
Also the gentry of Yorkshire, when called upon
to i>ay and support the trained bands for two
months, agreed to do their best therein, but must
humbly besought his majesty to tliink of snni-
moning jiarliament.' Charles now, indeed, saw
tliat this was inevitablei and before the meeting
of the jieers, who had been really summoned to
York as a great council, he issued wiita for tlie
assembling of parliament on the following 3d of
November. Meanwhile, upon the appoiuteit day
—the 24th of September— the great council of
peers assembled in the dean's house near the
minster at York. There Charles told them that
he had called them together, after the custom of
his predecessors, to ask their advice and asiUBt-
aiLce upon sudilen invasions anil daiigerx which
had not allowed lime for the calling of a (nrlia-
nteut; that nn anny of rebels were loilged within
the kingdom! that he wanted their ailvice wid
assistance, in order to proceed to the chastise-
ment of these insoleuces. He then ^-iked what an-
swer he should give to the |>etition of the relwld.

»Google

A.D. 1640—1641.] CHAI

and- in what manner he should treat them,
and how he should keep hia own armj on foot
and mointAtn it until auppliea might be had from
a parliament. The Earl of Bristol pn^)OHe<l to
coDlioue and conclude the treaty with the Scots.
He and other lords were confident that they
could makepeace upon honourable t«rmB. While
they were speaking, a packet was brought from
the Corenantera to Lord Lanark, with a new
petition to his majesty, " supplicating in a more
mannerly style than formerly." On the follow-
ing day (the 2Sth of Sept«mber), the Itn^ts, de-
ligfit^ with hia majesty's aasurance of calling a
parliament, entered into debate with great cheer-
folness and alacrity. Northallerton hnd been
agreed upon for a place of meeting between the
English and S4x>tch commissioners, but now it
was declared that Ripon would be a better place;
and the English peers unanimously resolved to
hold the negotiations at Bipon, Sixteen of the
English peers were to act tor Charles,' eight
Scottish lords and gentlemen for the Covenant,

Charles attempted to transfer the conferences
from Bipon to the city of York ; but the Scots,
who were veiy cautious— who, in the midst of all
their civility, had shown that they had not the
stightest confidence in his i-oyal word — objected
to putting themselves so completely in hie power.
Here, also, their jealousy and hatred of StraiTord
blazed forth. That potential, and still formida-
ble minister was set down as "a chief incen-
diary," as a main canse of all these troubles, as a
colleaguer with Papists, the worst foe of Scotland
as of England.' If the loose and inaccurate min-
utes of the proceedings of the great council of
peers at York may be trusted, Strafford did not
advise hia master at this juncture to break off all
negotiation and trust to force of arms; he was
too keen-sighted a person not to perceive the j
great and growing disafTectioii of the English
army; but another peer certainly gave something
very like this resolute advice. Edward, Ziord
Herbert, commonly called the Black Lord Her-
bert, irritated at the Scots' demand of £40,000
per month, advised the king to fortify York, and
dissuaded his majesty from yielding to that de-
mand. But this advice, though in all respecti) it
coincided with the feelings of the king, was too
dangerons to be adopted.

LES I. 473

The commiaaioners laboured with little effect
from the lat of October till the 16th, when they
agreed upon articles for the quiet maintenance of
the Scottish army for two months, for the open-
ing of the aeaporta in the north and the renewal
of free trade and commerce by sea and land, as
in time of peace, and for the cessation of hostili-
ties; and nothing more was settled, for all the
grievances and important clauses of a definitive
treaty were left untouched : and on the 23d of
October—the time of the meeting of parliament
approaching— it was agreed that the negotiations
should be transferred from Ripon to London.
The Scots were to receive or levy the sum of ,£800
per diem for the space of two months, banning
from the 16th of October; they were to content
themselves with this maintenance, and neither
molest Papists, prelates, nor their adherents;' and
by this arrangement Leslie and the Covenanter*
were left in undisturbed poasesaion of Durham,
Newcastle, and all the towns on the eastern coast
beyond the Tees, with the single exception of
Berwick. " Upon anch terms,* says a contem-
porary, "was this unnatural war (although the
armies could not aa yet be disbanded) brought to
a cessation."'

Upon the 3d of November, 1640, Charles, in
evident depraesion of spirits, opened in person the
ever- memorable Long Parliament.* He told the
houses that the honour and safety of the king-
dom being at stake, he was resolved to pat him-
self freely and cleiu-ly on the love and affection
of hia English subjeete — that he was exhausted
by chaTf^ made merely for the security of Eng-
land, and therefore must desire thsm to consider
the best way of supplying him with money, chaa-
tiaing the rebels, &c., and theii he would satisfy
sll their just grievances. And at the end of
his speech he said, with great emphasis — "One
thing more I desire of you, aa one of the greatest
means to make this a happy parliament, that you
on your parts, as I on mine, lay aside all suspi-
cion one of another ; as I promised my lords at
York, it shall not be my fault if this be not a
happy and good part i amen t"' But this invita-
tion to a mutual confidence came many years too
late. The court had signally failed in its endea-
vouia to influence the elections. Of Charles's
chief servants only two. Vane and Wiudebank,

' Tbg)' m» BedlMd. IlErtftwd, Kmn. anlMnirr, Warwlok,
BimH, HoUmid, B«faUni. HindRTiU, WhutDo. FlgiW,
BrmkB, Paulflt, Howud, BAvllla, and Dmumon; kA Uioj
wm Id bs ksMhI in lUTWIcini Lht Iniat^ b; th* Earli at Tn-
qoAir, Morton, And lAtiu-k, 9iecntAXy Vuio, HIr Lewli atiurt,
ADd Sir 3dba Barnn^b, wbo ^nn nHb Dlthdr Tflned In the
lamirf BeatUnd, or who h»d bwa ftjinnrir mtMintad with thii
biulnn^ Tht SoMliih coin mnHonen wns the Lank DnnniRii-
line uid iDHdDik Hir Fatrkk Rapbuni, Sir Wllliini DwcLu,
Isnon, the oeltbraled preaebn. Jobuoti. tha

Plpista at NonhnnbHiuid, uid trom tha F^iWa tb<f bsl pro-
oaaded Ut bitbcpa' xtnajilry Had EpJHOfnOiiuia. * Mq^

> Chuiea woobl not apan purJlunmt with tha iniul aUta,
Re. ■• It ««■, akulksd to tha hoiua. "Tha klng.'uji Lcud
mhUdtuT, "dldnotrida.bDlwautbJ'WaUrtaKliig^Bbln,
and Ihrmgh Wattmlnatn HalJ to tha church, uid » to tha

id bj tha Lord'haopar Pinch, i

HTUiovght iCqniteturlapliuider Iha ; .-(hit tbinfi n

L,OOg

if;^-

474

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil awo MiUTAitr,

had obtiuned seats; an'1 the first of these was
suspected of treachery, while Windebank was bo
odious to the people as a creature of lAud, that
liis presence in the house was rather hurtful than
bene6cial. For a long time it had been usual
with the commons to bow to the king's inclina-
tions in the choice of a speaker; even in the pre-
ceding parliament they had chosen a courtier;
but now, instead of Gardiner, the recorder of
London, the man of the kin^s choice, Lenthall, a
practising bairiBter, was hastily chosen; and the
choice was approved by Charles, in ignorance of
the man. Hampden, Pym, St. John, and Denzil
Hollis again took their seats, and their party was
wonderfully strengthened by the election of &Ir.
Harry Vane, the eon of Sir Henry Vane, and one
of the most remarkable men that sat in that par-
liament— so wild an enthusiast in religion as to
exdte a suspicion of his sanity or sincerity— so
Bcut« a politician, so accomplished a statesman,
as to challenge tha admiration of all parties. The
first thing these men did was to move for the ap-
pointment of committees of grievance and the
receiving of petitions prayiug for their removal.
Mr. Edward Hyde (afterwards Lord Clarendon
and the historian of the revolutions of the time),
■till of the patriotic party, brought up a crying
grievance in the north, which was none other thau
Strsiford's Court of the President of the North,
or, as it was mora usually called, the Court of .
York. The eccentric George, Lord Digby, son of
the Earl of Bristol, brought up the grievances in
the west — Sir John Colpepper, the grievances in
tha south — Waller, the poet, a frsah denunciation ;
of ship-money, subservient judges, and the inter-
mission of parliaments. Other petitions were
presented in a more startling manner. "The first
wedc," says Whitelock, "was spent in naming
general committees and eMablishing them, and

i-eceiving a great many petitions, both from par-
ticular persons and from multitudes, and brought
by troops of horsemen from several counties, crav-
ing redress of grievaseei and exorbitances, both
in church and state* The Lord Falkland, Sir
Benjamin Rudyard, Sir Edward Deering, Mr.
HarbottleGrimBton,and other leading members,
fell vigorously upon the system of Episcopacy,
and the house presently denounced all the acta
and canons which Laud had hurried through the
late convocation. They attacked every part of
churchgovemmeDt— every proceeding of the pri-
mate in matters of reli^on and conscience. Sir
Edward Deering compared the modem Episco-
pacy to Papistry, and attacked that tyrannical
court which was so dear and essential to Laud.
"With tha Papists," said he, " there is a severe
Inquisition, and with us there is a bitter High
Gommisaion ; both these, contra fa* et Jul, are
judges in their own case.' He went on to show
how nearly laud's notions of supremacy and in-
fallibility appi-oached to those of the pope. "And
herein," added he, "I shall be free and clear —
if one of these must be, 1 had rather serve one
as far'off as the Tiber, than to have him come to
me HO near as the Thames : a pope at Rome will
do me leas hurt than a patriarch at Ijunbeth."
It may readily be conceived how these thingn
affected I^aud, who shortly before had been visited
by omens and misgivings, and who clearly saw
ruin approaching.' It was, indeed, evident that
the commons believed, with Pym, that " they
must not only make the house clean, but pull
down the cobwebs."' They debated with the
same fearlessnesB and the same high eloquence
on the other grievuices of the country; but for
many days they constantly returned to the sub-
ject of religion and to tha evil counsellors about
the king.'

I " Oii«ob«r ST, Tnwlv. Blmon uid Jndg-i Etc, I wnt Into
mj apptr itodjr to mat ume manuKripU. whtoh I warn Hodiiig
to Oxford ; la that Btodj hung mj plctnns taksQ hy iht life,
A&d, Adliif in, I IDiukd It &ll«n dowb Dpcn ths ^obj aTid lying
dDtfafl floor, th« Btrlng bting bmhon bj whLoh II haQ^wl againat
tho wk;1. 1 ua liamt every day Uinatstied willi my niln <n

bafbn. tha archUihop uoU* la tho laiiia prirato wcord— " Tha
Hlsfa CoDunMon ritltng at St Paal'a,baoaiiaaaf lbs Ucnifalvaf

HiK.

I >■ Tha &TOUI of the admlnlaentfoD. aa wall ai the utipallij
that wrj parliament had dii^ayad lowank Iham, not nn-
natunlly nodend tho OiHwlka, for tha moat part, awerlon of
tha klng*B arbltiaiT povor. Thla affaln Inoioaaad tfafl popnlar
pntodloa. BotaothlDfoicltodaomuiih alum •• tho paipaliinl
nonionloM lo U»ir ftllb. Thaag bad not been quite unuaual
Id any h* ali™ da ReTuimatiun, tboagh tha balana had baoo
vnyuiHhlnclliHd to the oppoalto tide. Thayboounfl, howeror.
nndai Chaiita, the nowi of arafy day ; Pretaatant clorjyinen in
•avBTsl InitaiiDH. hut eapoclolly uronion of nilk. bocomlng pro-

tibla iBuwlnatioB at tliat aai. liay whoti

« the wlldaRtaoa of doubt, vainly darida aach aa
tha bnlan path thoir fathen had trodden la old
r whOBO tampermment git« little play to tbe &acy

ttlUona Ulnaioiia-tha Htiahctl
fbrnunoaof pDaltive riUv. «pec
—the Tlctorioua Hlf-gritiilatloD

ieiiia ur the Imagination oin reqaln — the ipJoHlId THtoHekt.
tba ttagnnl oanaer, the awaat aoanda of ohoral hajnwny, and
the Bulptaiod form that an iutanta piniy half odinn vilh UH.

might nqulra. hy tha ektlfiit hands of Roniah prfaita, ehiaty

nndor a lay garb, and oomblDlng the conrtaooa manDtn e€
genUenan with a taBnad eipariems of mankind, and a lafje
hi vhoaa labyrintha the moat pncticol raHoner na paiiJaul.
Agalnat thflaa IbaDlnating wllA the Poritana oppoeod other waa-
pona fiocn tho aama annoqry of homan natnrv ; thoy av^oDad
tha pride of naton. tbe atern abatinatr of dlqniU, tha oaina^
aa aciDthing to tho eu, of fne inquiry and pritaM JndgnfOt.
They laepired an abhnrrmoe of the adnna iiartj , that unad
aa a bairior agalnal Inaldioiia affmaoha. But «u dUkmt
piimiiplaa Mtiut«l tba praialllnf party la tha Chueb e( B(«-

»Google

From apeaking, the coiomom soon proceeded
to action; not always bearing in mind the strict
limits of tbeir power and jiuisdictiou. On the
7th of November, the fourth day of their sitting,
thej paaaed a reeolation that tiioae victims of
Star Chamber tyrannj and cnteltj, Mr. Burton,
Dr. Baatwick, and Mr. Frfnne, should be aent
for forthwith bj warrant of the house, and made
to certify bj whose warrant and authority they
had been mutilated, branded, and imprisoned.
And, being liberated from their distant dongeons
by this warrant of the house, the three Puritans,
upon the 28th day td November, came to Lon-
don, being met upon the way and brought into
the city by 6000 persons, women as well as men,
all mounted on horseback, and wearing in their
hata and cape rosemary and bays, in token of joy
and triumph. Happy had it been if the released
captives and suSerers for conscience' sake, and
thoM who triumphed with them iu their release,
had learned to tolerate others, or had ascertained
the great fact that persecution and cruelty defeat
their own objecU! Within a month after the
return of the three Paritans, their business was
referred to a committee, and, upon the rep(»t of
that committee, it was voted by the house that
their several judgments were illegal, unjust, and
agiunst the hberty of the subject; and, about a
month after this, it was further voted that they
should receive damages for their great sufferingB,
and that satisfaction should be made them in
money, to bo paid by the Archbishop of Canter-
bnry, the other high commissioners, and thone
lords who had voted against them in the Star
Chamber, and that they should be restored to
their callings and professions of divinity, taw,
and physic. The damages were fixed for Bur-
ton at ^eeOOO, for Prynns and Bastwick at iSOOO
each. As these men were comforted after their
sufferings, so other divines, foUowers of Laud's
orthodoxy, after a brief triumph, were brought
to their torment The committee of religion was
indefatigable, and certainly neither tolerant nor
merciful.

Among all the men of his rank, Laud's friend
and pet author, Dr. Cousens, masUr of St. Peter's,
Cambridge, was most remarked for what were
termed superstitions ai>d curious observances.

.ES 1. 475

"He was not noted,* sajrs May, "for any great
depth of learning, nor yet scandalous for ill living,
but only forward to show himself in formalitiesand
outward ceremonies concerning religion, many of
which were such as a Protestant atato might not
well suffer." Cousens was imprisoned and bailed,
and though deprived of some of his preferments,
yet escaped without any great punishment, being
oneofacrowd that had reason to rejoice that the
parliament had so much business on hand. On
the 18th of December, Cousens' friend and pa-
tron, William Land, Archbishop of Canterbury,
&C., &c., was singled out for the crushing thun-
derbolts of the house. It was resolved that a
message should be sent to the lords to accuse him,
in the name of the house and of all the commons
of England, of high treason, and to desire that he
might be forthwith sequestered from parliament
and committed. Denzil Hollia carried up this
message. Evidently to his surprise, the Lord-
keeper Finch told him, that the lords would
sequester the archbishop from their house, and
commit him to the custo<ly of their gentleman
uriier.' I^nd desired leave to speak, and dropped
some unguarded expressions, which he af terwutls
begged leave to retract, but was refused by their
lordships. He then requested permission to go
to his house to fetch some papers, that might
enable him to make his defence. This permis-
sion was granted, provided he did nothing but in
sight of the gentleman usher, in whose custody
he was ordered to remain, and iu whose custody
he did remain for ten weeks, when he was com-
mitted to the Tower. In bis speech on the mo-
Uon of in^keachment, Mr. Grimston desired the
house to look upon laud's colleagues and depen-
dants. "Who ia it but he only,' exclmmed the
orator, "tliat hath brought the Earl of Strafford
to all his great places and eroptoymenta} ....
Who is it but he that brought in Secretary Win-
debank into that place of trust — Windebank, the
very broker and pander to the whure of Baby-
lon! Who ia it bnt he only, that hath advanced
all our Popish bishops} I bIjbU name but some
of them: Bishop Maiu waring, the Bishop of Bath
and Wells, the Bishop of Oxford, and Bishop
Wren, the least of all these birds, but one of the
most unclean.** On the morrow of laud's ar-

tMiamil Bitliiry of B<

had loihla moh & noiM b^ hk wi

and tb« Divtue right >

ttas Blihop at Bath and WalU >u Willlum

Oifoid m Dr. JuLn Bwurnfl; Matthew
Wnm, now at Elj, hid bean Biihop of Hurwicb, Mid lud dii-
tiugrulihad hlmMlT In th&t rUaoam bjhltTW

« Google

476

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civn. AXD HlUTART.

rert (the l»tb of l>ecemlier;, it was ordered that
a nmnage BboaJd be aent to the lords, that there
werecerUin infoimatioiiH of « high nature ag»in>t
Dr. Matthew Wren, BUhop of Elj, oonoeming
the setting np of idiriatrr anil Hapeistitbn; tutd
that the oonunotis, haTing infannation that be
wa« endeavoorinf; an etcape, deiired their lord-
■liipa that care might be taken that be abonld

give good security to abide tho judgment of par-
liament. Mr. Hampden went np with this mes-
•age.

But before thew churchmen were stricken in
their pride of pUce, Strafford had been de-
nounced, formally accused, and safely lodged in
the Tower. When the king left York, his lieu-
tenant remained behind him, to take charge of
what remained of the army in the north. It is
proved by many concurrent witnesses that Btraf-
ford waa averse to coming to London and meet-
ing the parliament. His friends told him, that to
appear in his place as a peer would be to hazard
his life. He hnmbly represented to his mastor,
that it would be better to leave him where he
wafl, as he coatd not hope to be able to do his
majesty any service at Westminster, where he
felt he should rather be a hindrance to his
affairs, na he foresaw that the great envy and
ill-will of the pnrliameiit and of the Scots woidd
be bent against hint. He told Cliarles, that if he
kept out of sight, he would not be so much in
their mind ; and if they should fall upon him, he,
being at a distance, might the better avoid any

uliutrkma okithlen— (bnlgn-
hom Into EiigUn<i Bi«ho[>

danger, having liberty of gotngaTertolretBod.or
some other place where be might be moat ser-
viceable to his majesty. The king, notwithstand-
ing these weighty reasons, eontiuoed rery ear-
nest for Strafford's coining np to the parliament-
Charles had a woodvfnl ivitiou (rf Stniffaed's
powers of imposing on paritaments, and his own
len darii^ spirit stood in need of his serTanta
utoDeas; aid in the end be laid bis oa»-
mands upon him, pledging hinueU for bis Mifety,
and aasnring him that, as he was King of Eng-
land, he was able to aecnre him from any danger,
and that the parliament should not tonefa one
hair of bis head. Strafford made baste totbank
majesty for theae asniTanccs, but still nncoa-
leed, he onoe more represented the danger of
bis ooming, saying that if there should fall out a
difference between bis majesty and bis parliament
concerning him, it would be a very great distur-
bance to bis majesty's affairs; and that be bad
rather suffer himself, than that the king's affairs
should suffer on his account. But Charlea would
be moved by these repreaentalions, or by the
prospect of the danger which must attend his
favourite minister; he repeated his injunctions,
saying, that be could not do without Straffofd's
'aluable advice in the great transactions of this
parliament; and in obedience to these reiterated
commands, the earl came np to London.' Straf-
ford assumed a bold bearing, and a confidence
hich his inmost heart denied. "A greater and
lore vmiversal hatred," says a noble contempo-
rary, "was never contracted by any person, than
be has drawn upon himself. He is not at all de-
jected, but believes confidently to clear himself
in the opinion of all equal and indifferent^minded
hearers, when he shall come to make his defence."'
Strafford Birived in town on Monday night ; on
Tuesday he rested from the fatigues of the jonr-
ney; on the Wednesday he went to parliament,
"but ere night he was caged."

" It waa about three of the clock in the after-
noon,'' says Rushworth, " when the Earl of Straf-
ford (being infirm, and not well disposed in bis
health, and so not having stirred out of bis bouse
that morning), hearing that both honsea still sat,
thought fit to go thither. It was believed by
some (upon what ground was never clear enough),
that be made that haste then to accuse the hard
Say, and some others, of having induced the
Scots to invade the kingdom ; but he was scarce
entered into the House of Peers, when the niee-
PBRp from the House of Commons was called in,

> Siilvg Ftftrt: MUr (torn tha Eul of NonhambCTlutd
totbtEuloTLaiotMer, diUdthslMliofNciTHBbar, ISM.
■ L«tlum of Robsrt Dillllt, prindiial of tho oainnltj of

»Google

CHARLES I.

477

and when Mr. P^m, at the bar, luxl in the name
of the commons of England, impeached Thotuaa,
EatI of Strafford, of high treason, and several
other heinous crimes and misdemeanoura, of
which, he said, the commons would in due time
make proof in form ; and, in the meantime, de«ired,
in theirname, that he might be sequMtered from
all counsels, and bo put in safe cuatod;.* Pym,
who cftrriad up the impeachment, liod, according
to Clarendon, announced his determined hatred
to Straflbrd many years before. "Yon are going
to leave us," said Pym, when Wentworth fiist
went over to the Icing's party, "but we will never
leave you, while your head is upon your shoul-
ders.' On the present occawou Strafford had
gone in haste to the house. " He calls rudely at
the door ; James Maxwell, keeper of the blade
rod, opens: his lordship, with a proud, glooniing
countenance, makes towards hia place at the
board bead; but at once many bid him void
the house; so he is forced in confusion to go to
the door till he was called. After conaultation,
being called in, he stands, but is commanded to
kneel, and on his knees to hear the sentence.
Being on his knees, he is delivered to the keeper
of the black rod, to be prisoner till he was cleared
of these crimes the House of Commons had
charged him witb. He offered to speak, but
was commanded to be gone without a word. In
the outer room, James Maxwell reqniml him,

as prisoner, to deliver his sword Coming

to the place where he expected bis coach, it was
not tbere; so he behoved to return that same
way, through a world of gazing people. Wben
at last he had found his coach, and was entering,
Jamee Maxwell told him, ' Your lordship is my
prisoner, and must go in my coach;' so he be-
hoved to do."' A few days after his srrest, Straf-
ford requested to be admitted to bail, but this
was refused him, and he was safely lodged in the
Tower.

Next the commons impeached Secretary Win-
debank and the Lord-keeper Finch ; but little
or no care was taken to secure their peraons,
and both were allowed to ese^ie. Windebank,
favoured by the queen, fled into. France, where
he toon made a public profession of Catholidsm;
Findi fled into Holland. Clarendon hints tliat
Finch had come to a compromise with the
popular party, "it being visible he was in their
fovour;' but he expresses his surprise at their
suffering Windebank to escape their justice.

But the commons of England were not remark-
able for their appetite for blood ; they wanted
the heads of Laud and Strafford, and no more,
and probably connived at, or were glad to see
tbe flight of their satellites.* What they had
already done was well calculated to strike ter-
ror into the hearts of all worshippers of the
deapotic [Hinciple. It was, indeed, wonderful
to see how all the advocates and instruments of
despotism, ship-money, and all kinds of illegal
taxation, fell at the first blow, and crouched at
the feet of their victors. The whole fabric of
absolutism was shattered like a house of glass,
or melted like a fabric of ice and enow on the
return of the summer sun. Charles was helpless,
hopeless, at once; there seemed to be scarcely
a man in the land to raise sword or voice in
his favour; nor did he gain anything like a for-
midable party till these first terrors had snb-
aided, and the parliament had stepped beyond
that line of lefonn which the general o|Hniou
held to be necessary.

It was not possible for the commons to over-
look the slavish judges who had upheld ship-
money and condemned Mr. Hampden. They
sent up Waller with a message to the lords, and
their lordships forthwith ordered that Bram-
ston, Davenport, Berkeley, Crawley, Trevor, and
Weston should find heavy bail to abide the judg-
ment of parliament. Berkeley, whose speeches
will be remembered, was impeached of high
treason, and, to the great disturbance of his bre-
thren, both judges and lawyers, he was arresteil
white sitting on the bench, with his ermine on,
and brought away like a common felon. But the
commons were certainly not anxious for his blood;
and after some time he was permitted to with-
draw himself, having, it is said, been forced to
give fifree gift of /!0,000 for the public service.
1641 On the latli of January Mr, Pri-
deaux brought in a bill for pre-
venting the dangers and inconveniences happen-
ing by the long iutermissiou of parliaments. He
proposed that the parliament should be held
yearly. In committee the house rejected that
proposition, and followed the example which
had l>een set them fay the Scots a few months
before, in voting for regular triennial parliaments.
At the same time, to guard against the statute
becoming a dead-letter, they directed that the
iMuing of write at the fixed time should be im-
perative on the lord-keeper or chancellor ; that

iLattenofBiillli.

Owmbnt To Und luid BtnAnd thar Maud Uw(Hhl«a»

bmtbx, and impMoooi primsta fbond t oonfcoiil ipirit is Ui«

otaatKin l»K)r. Donout « Uu down Uw7«tlH»-

inten, thdc «d>»t (hint to prgmot. th. kin('i BnjH. hj

flnd Uat, Witt U«ir uUnoit MiTUitjr, thv fcUfcr bAlnJ U»

MiOMl «uft>Tf «■ fl-»(a»rf, vol, i. p. (SS.

»Google

47H

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Crv

D MlI.ITART.

if he failed, then the Hodbc <rf Lords should issue
the writs ; if the lords failed, then the aheriffe
were to do it; and if the aheri^ neglected or
refused, then the people were to proceed to elect
their representatives without any writs at all.
They moreover provided, that no future parlia-
ment should be dissolved or adjourned bj the
king, without its own consent, witbin lees than
fifty days from the opening of itsHession. Char-
les here attempted to make a stand. On the 23d
of January he summoned both lords and com-
mons to Wliitehall : there he reproved the latter
for their long delays; and spoke of their conni-
vance, which suffered distraction to arise by the
indiscreet petitions of men who, "more mali-
ciooaly than ignorantly, would put no difference
between reformation and alteration of gorem-
ment"* The king, however, was now unable
either to uphold bishops vr resist the commons
in any otber particular ; and he shortly after reluc-
tantly gave his ccoisent to the tnll for triennial
parliaments, which was received by the country
with demonstniitionB of joy and triumph.

All this while the Scottish commissioners were
residing in the heart of the city, neai; London
Stone, in a bouse so near to the church of St. An-
tholin's, a place made famous by some Puritan

or seditioos preacher, that there was a way out
of it into a gallery of the church. "This benefit

well foreseen on all sides in the accommo-
dation, and this church aasigiied to them for
their own devotions, where one of their own
chi4>lainB still preached, amongst which Alexan-
der Henderson was the chief, who was likewise
joined with them in the treaty in all matten
which had reference to religion; and to hear
tboee sermons there was so great a conflux and
resort by the citizens out of humour and facUon,
by others of allquaJitiesoutof curionty, by some
that they might the better justify the contempt
they had of them, that from the first appearance
of day in the morning of every Sunday to the
shutting in of the light, the church was never

ty.'* Clarendon could hardly overrate the

ence exercised in the city by these Scottish
preachers, and by the lords -commissiiHiers.'
Some of the latt«r were very acceptaUe upon
otiier grounds besides those of religion; tiiey

t men of the world, and men of buwneas,
pleasant in conversation, and of great address :
moreover, the English reformers were bound to
them by the double conviction that they could
not have achieved what they had done had it not
been for Uie bold march of the Covenanters, and

attruMd. Tba
■indowi whm uiJndsd from th« doon. lo Inhsle ths lanctlSed
loatlriaafbsdtaUishutiulipJiitthBl began t« pmlom

fnl] of bATlxrtimi mnd Ignon

ihtp the CovHun
qaotail,I>

Tha QuarlfriJf Sftier. too,
hl^itmi nwcmlaDH aa the Itunlng, UiU
Kbox uhI hii AHi1flmparvi«. Lnairti tbM
■WDI^ IhMO gill* pnHBd o»ec t ' ~ '

thkt thej in attarlj slmid. Tht itiilcmHiU of Hums lu
Lklsg ua thmMlTii tha mini ant of ■ putf, ud amid thi

hare bam fbond no laai barbaiDiu than that of their rersrei

ooontiTmaiL Aa fhr tha nTfowara, thaln la tfaa laaiuaga

fmB IgBoniHa, and, wanajadd, of itupldltj; forbnvtnf ■

mlttad Oa lapgrlatlTa meriti of Knox and Ilia Melvllln, bow

anM tlwT iBtkmallT bellava that tha glfti of tbi

aa aoOD paia avaf boat Uia puty thaA glonad in

laadan, to aaothar whkh had calunnlatad thi

triad lo tappnm tba wrlUivi of Kaoi, and had banidtad both

tballalTlllat-

Ib ■bort, then k aothtng vonderM. and. Irut of alt. ii
taj impatatlan OB tha l«ta of tha piirliDTnantitT P^^T ■x^
tba sitliain of Londcm, that tbEj thu Sodiad to hau '
Haottlih preaolian. No ooa wbo oompana tha tbaaloginl writ-
imp of tha Engliah and Scolflh at that period, an bll to be
Miuek irllh tha anparior HailblUtr of tba Bratsh itTla— a eir-

thapuliHtT Now tha Boottldi pnruben bad braksn looai (hm
tbli aw, hatf-lAtin, and iBTSlTsd pbmaciliiBj. QUtaipla, lu
paTtioolar. had amandpatad hlmaelf ttom It. Ha aaanu to hava

men. Curt, Eane, and rapid In diction, atlogatfan- unlncunibefwd
with the pedantry of lAtln and Oiaak quotation!, bat aa ilcti
In alaadcal aa Chakmara In MiwitillD allwioD^ with one BiDphatH
UloatraCloEi fallowing another, and the amphaau often aonatad,
aa in Cbalnien too. by bnppy allltaratlona. hit preaahlng mut
have addad to tba eharm uf falgfalj anltlTated joathfol geniva.
that ot bahnaaa and noTsltr. Aa fir Balllla and RaUwrfDid.
ona can only ■mile at their being chaffed with Ignorance lud
baibariun. And tha fttllowing paragraph f^om Hendanon'i
apHch at the taking of the CoreDaDt b; the Eouae of Oonmiana
and the WeilmlnaCer Ajaemblr. will pzo*a howjoatlj ha haa

aodlanoa. what erruurt and herala In doctrine, what nper^
■tjtloa and Idolalri^ In wonhlp. what uaorpatloi and tjranbie
in goTemmaut, what oraal^ againit the Honb and bodhw oi
tba aaiati, haie bMn let on fboi, enrdaad asd ennntad tat
man; gaaeratlona, and now of late, by the Bomana chorch — all
of which we hope, throqgh tba blraflinf of Ood upon thia work,
■hall be biTrngfat to an end. Rad tha pope at RonH tha know-
ledge of what la thia day doing In England, and wan thla Cora-
liaut written ou the plaaler of ^e wall orer apiinat hun^ whan
he litlelh. Belibumr Ilka. In hii lacrlleglatu

- of the grealast of England^ wor-
thLaa. were doubtlaai preaant and heard thla magnlfloent atldreaa.
and gnat muat hare bnn their wnndar amid thaj hare fHwaeeii
that the orator who pronoimaed It wonld be traddoed bj fkilim
Ikottiah hiitorlana aa an ignorant bflrharlan. — Baa PruAjptmita
BnuK, Tol. It. p. IW.

,v Google

A.D. IWl.] CHAB

tlmt they could not be Bure of their victory if the
ScotUah army were vithdrawn from the uorthem
provincea. The patriots promised them high re-
wards, and heaped all poasible honoura tipon
them; they were caressed in both houses of par-
liament-, and an order was entered, that upon
all occaBioiM they should be styled "our brethren
of Scotland." Charles, on the other hand, saw
clearly that there was no hope of retitoring the
old order of things until the Scottish army should
be beyond the Tweed, and disbanded; and he
complimented and cajoled the commissioners,
and in his eagerness yielded many points in the
treaty, in the design of being the sooner rid of
them and their army. They advanced cliuma
for the immediate restoration of all Scottish ships
and merchandise which had been taken by the
English cruisers, and were gratified by a ready

[iES I. 479

compliance. They also claimed indemnification
for the charges they had sustained ; and Charlex
referred this money question to the English
House of Commons, who speedily voted .£125,000
for the expenses of the Scottish army during6ve
months, and ^300,000 "as a friencUy relief for
the losses and neceaeities of their brethren of
Scotland." Before this money conld be paid they
got large sums for the Covenanters, by way of
loan ', and there appears to have been no diffi-
culty in raising money in this way in the city of
London whenever the proceeds were to go to
"our brethren of Scotland.' There remained to
aettle the last clause of the treaty, touching the
establishment of a lasting peace between the two
nations; and this clause the Scottish c
stonere made so difficult, that there was
tling it for the present.

CHAPTER Xn.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— i.D. 1641.

Charlei tri« concsuiaa — Prep>ntiaiu for Straffard'a impeubment— Hii trial— Fytn*i cb»rgea ftguuBt him —
Stntfford't aiuwerB—FrMh charge addaced bj Pym— The earl'a couraga and ciDqusncs un hia trial— Bill of
attainder panad against him— Attempt! of the king to prooura tha sarl'a saoape or tibention — Tha popnUr
feeling kept alire againit Strafford — "Bolemn Pnitsctation " aabioribed by tha lordB and eommoni— Rnmonn
of eoiupinciea agaiiut tha patriots— Haiitatioa of Charlea to rign Strafford'i death-warrant— Ba Jim racouna
to fail pnblio ccmaaiaoce, and ligat the wairaat — Straffard'a condnot en receiving tha tidings— Hia eiecatioa
— Harj de* Medici arrivea in England — Hsr ihort and uneomfortable itaj — Idmd'a biihopi kept away from
parliament— The Soottiih arm; retnm* boms— The English army disbanded —Charlea viaita Scotland— Hi*
conciliatory proDeadingB — Stordy oondaet of the Coietianten — The; rqeot the royal claim to fill up laoant
offioei — The iStir of the " Incident" in Scotland — Principal panoni involved in it — Fartieolan of tba plot —
Ila effect on the Engliah parliamsnt — Snipicioui of all partiaa againat Charlea — The Iiiih rebellion — Ita
cauaea — latrignea and aima of ila leaden — Tbeir attempt to anrpriae Dablin diaoOTeiBl — The rebellion breaks
ont — lie bavoo and maaaaema — Pnicaedingt of the Bngliah parliament to quell it — Charlaa retoma &om Soot-
land to London — Hia qoarrela with the parliament rammed — Their " Remonitnnee of the State of the King-
dom"— Appoaianie of Oliver Cromwell in tha diicuaaian — The"RerooiiBtraiioe" carried-Kemarkaof Charlea
on leoeiving it — Altercation! between the king and parliament about the Iriah rebettion — The " Kemonatranoe"
Vrinlad and aant through tba country— Charlea attempta to get the Tower into hia keeping— The commoni
oppcee him — Thqr anooead in freeing the Tower from loyal ouitody— Popular aicitement— The cry railed of
" Ko Biebope " — Affray aad bleudihed in Wgatminater on the oocaNon.

b 00 late, Charles tried the efficacy
onceeaiou. The forest laws had
. been greatly abnsed, and liad ex-
I cited violent inormnrB: he sent
\ down the Earl of Holland to tell
J the lords that, out of his grace and
I hia people, he was willing to lay
down all the new bounds of his forests in this
kingdom, and that they should be reduced to the
condition they were in before his late oncroacb-
ments. On a former occasion, when he drew
Wentworth, Noye, and Digges from the opposi-
tion, he had felt the benefit of tampering with

and employing some of the patriots; and he now |~

fondly hoped that a similar experiment on poli-
tical integrity would be attended with the like
success. Whitelocksaysthat there was a propo-
sal (thesubject of much discourse) to preserve the
Earl of Strafford, by converting his enemies into
friends by giving them promotion; that, acconl-
ittg to this plan, one should be made lord-treasu-
rer, the Lord Say master of the wards, Mr. Pym
chancellor of the exchequer, Mr. Hollie secretary
of state, Mr. Hampden tutor to the prince, &c.'
Clarendon mentions a design of giving aome of
the great offices of the state to some heads of
the popular parly ; but be says, distinctly, that

»Google

480

HISTORY OP ENGLA.ND.

[Civil a

3 MlLITART.

their continued violence in the prosecution of
Strafford was the reAson for which Cbarles de-
cided " that the putting of those promotions in
practice should be for a time suapended." This
is very different troia Whitelock's implication—
it goes to show that the leaders of the opposi-
tion, or the " driven of parliament,' as they vrere
called, did not follow up the gi'eat incendiary be-
cause they had been refused the places, but, on
the contrary, that they were refused the places
because they steadily persisted in the prosecu-
tion of Sti-afford.

Pym, whom, as we believe, no earthly consi-
deration could have turned from hts purpose of
having the head of the greatest and most dan-
gerous enemy to the liberties of his country, had
been laboriously employed for more than three
months in preparing the charges and proofs
against Strafford.' That fallen lord had now to
feel by what an insecure tenure he had held the
brow-beaten parliament of Ireland. As soon as
his sword of strength was shivered by the com-
mons of England, the Irish parliament sent over
a committee, and showed themselves no less in-
tent upon bis ruin than the English and Scots.
In Ireland he had carried his tyranny to its
greatest height; and the English commons wel-
comed with affection and joy the committee that
came to depose against him, and give the weight
of one of the three kingdoms to hie prosecution.

Strafford's trial, which had long been the most
absorbing subject, now came on. On Monday
morning, March 22d, about seven o'clock, the
earl came from the Tower, accompanied by six
barges, wherein were 100 soldiers of the Tower,
all with partisans, and fifty pair of oars. At his
lauding at Westminster he was attended by 200
of the trained band, who guarded him into the
Hall. "The king, queen,and prince came to the
hoitse about nine of the clock, but kept them-
selves private within their closets, only the prince
came out once or twice to the cloth of state,
so that the king saw and heard all that passed,
but was seen of none.' The Earl of Arundel,
"being," says Clarendon, "a person notoriously
disaffected to the Earl of StraObrd," was ap-
pointed high-steward, and the Earl of Lindsay
high -constable, for the trial. It had been de-
bated whether the bishops should have voices in
the trial; and upon the preceding Saturday the

startled prelates voluntarily declined voting, be-
ing ecclesiastical persons, and so prohibited by
the canons from having their hands in blood.'
Exceptions had also been taken to some recently
made peers, who were all friends to the priao-
and the commons demanded that no p«er
ci-eated since the day upon which the Eu-I of
StrafTord was impeached of high treason should

t on his trial.

The Earl of Arundel, aa Lord High-steward of
England, sat apart by himself, and, at Strafford's
entrance into the dock, he commanded the house
proceed. Then the impeachment, which con-
sisted of twenty-eight capital articles, was read,
with Strafford's reply to it, in 200 sheets of paper.
This occupied the first day. On the morrow at
the appointed hour Strafford again appeared at
the lur, and again the king, queen, and prince
took their seats in court.' The lord-steward bav-
»mmanded the committee of the commons
who were to manage the evidence to proceed,
Pym stood up, and said: — "My lords, we stand

here by the commandment of the knights, eiti-
Eens, and burgesses, now assembled for the cam-
mons in parliament, and we are ready to mafce
goodthatimpeachment whereby Thomas, Earl pt
Strafford, stands charged in their name, and in

onuWal et Pjrm.- tlunpilRi. HcJlU. Lord DIjb/, Btrodc,
WKltR Eu-l, tWdn, at. jDfan, Majvanl, IVmiT. Qljimo, uid
Whlteloek. Ttttmw,

it ihonld &PI4U' (1i4t n«
doing BtnflVvd txtj good.

»Google

A.D. ltj41.] CHAD

the name of all the commotu of England, with
high treaaon. Tbia, my lords, ia a great cause,
and we might oak under the weight of it ; and
be astouiBhed with the luBtre of this noble BBaem-
bly, if there were uot in tlie cauae streogUi and
vigour to support itself, and to encourage ua. It
ia tii» cauae of the king; it concerns his Dutjestj
in the honour of his government, in the safety of
hia perwMi, in the atability of his crown. It is
the cause of the kingdom; it coQcerna not only
the peace and prospenty, but evqn the being of
tlie kingdom. We have that piercing eloquence,
the cries, and groans, and t«arB, and prayers of
all the Bubjecte aswstiug ua. We have the three
kingdoms, England, and Scotland, and Ireland,
in travail and agitation with us, bowing them-
selves, like the hinds spoken of in Job, to cast
out their sorrows." Fym enumerated the pleaa
in Strafford's reply, denouncing them all as false
or ioBufficieut. He thea went at length into
WentworUi's abnses of power in Ireland, where
chiefly he had earned his bad pre-eminence, and
where it was sufficiently proved that he hod ar-
rogat«d an authority beyond what the crown had
ever lawfully enjoyed, and even beyond example
of former viceroys of tliat island, where the dis-
organized state of society, the constant occurrence
of insurrections and rebellions, and the distance
from control, had given rise to such a series of
arbitrary precedents, aa would have covered and
almost excused any ordinary stretch of power.'
Pym produced his witnesses, who deposed to acts
of absolute tyranny. The managers then desired
that the remonstrance from Ireland might be
read. The prisoner opposed this, aa something
containing new miktter not in the original charge)
but they replied, tliat the subvertiog of laws and
corruption of goremment was in general laid
in their charge ; and upon the Lord Baltinglass
and the Lord Digby of Ireland vouching for the
truth of the copy, the powerful remonstrance of
the Irish parliament was read. Strafford, in
answer to it, said that it was the produce of
faction and confederacy, and a strong conspiracy
against him. These last expressious put the mana-
gers into a heat, and Mr. Glynne ezclnimed,
" My lords, these words are not to be suffered."
StraSord craved time to recollect himself, and
make his defence to certain charges, protesting,
by the Almighty God, that he never had other
intentions than to be true and futhful to hia
majesty and the commonwealth. The maoagers
insisted that he had had time enough, and ought
to answer iustantly: the lords adjourned for half
an hour, and at their return ordered him to make
his answer presently. The prisoner then replied,
in & long and able speech, to every article con-
tained in the Irish remonstrance, taking shelter
I Billun, OnM. Uitl.

Vol. II.

LES I. «3I

more than once under his commission, and the
king's warrants and express commands. Pym
replied to this defence ; maintaining that it did
not make my Lord of Strafford more excusable.
And hereupon the court was adjourned to the
following day. On the morrow, the third day of
the trial, Mayuard, one of the managers and an
expert lawyer, continued the accusations about
the tyranny exercised in Ireland, and produced
other witnesses. Strafford was permitted to in-
terrupt tiie witnesses, and to apeak at length,
which he did frequently, with great eloquence
and an admirable show uf modesty and equani-
mity. This wa« the otse on nearly every day of
his long and remarkable trial. " The Earl of
Strafford," says May, "answered daily at the bar,
whilst the whole House of Commons, having put
themselves into a committee, had liberty to charge
him, every man as he saw occasion. . . . Every
day the firat week, from Monday to Saturday
without intermission, the earl was brought from
the Tower to Westminster Hall, aod arraigned
many boara together; and the success of every
day's trial was the greatest discourse or dispute
in all companies. For by this time the people
began to be a little divided in opinions. The
clergy in general were so much fallen into love
and admiration of this earl, that the Archbishop
of Canterbury was almost quite forgotten by
them. The courtiera cried him up; and the ladies,
whose voices will carry much with some parts of
theBtate,were exceedingly on hisside." But the
spectacle of one man resisting, as it were, three
nations, without confidence in the master he had
served, and with scarcely a resource or a hope,
except such as he drew from his own abilities,
calculated to impose on othera besides court
gentlemen and ladies — of the mass of the people,
who have been in all ages most honourably dis-
tinguished by their love of an equal combat, and
their dislike of seeing one man tteaten by many.
The two managing lawyers, moreover, Qlyune and
Mayuard, insisted too much upon vague and gene-
ral clauses, and overdid their part with the quib-
bles and forced constructions of the legal profes-
sion. Again, though many of the deeds proved
against the prisoner were despotic and detestable,
there was scarcely one taken singly that came
within the verge of treason, and the managera
heaped the charges together in the design of
making what was called accnraulative treaaoo.
" There is nothing in this," cried Strafford, " that
can be treason; and, when one thousand misdea-
meanoura will not make one felony, shall twenty-
eight miademeanoura heighten it to a treasonr
They possessed not many of the letters which
are now open to every reader, and which prove
beyond a doubt that he was a systeniatio enemy
of hb country's liberties, a minister that would,

VSl

,v Google

482

HISTORV OP ENGLAND.

[Civ

. AKD Military.

indeed, have gone "thorough" — who would
ecarcelf have hesitated at any state crime. His
opioionB delivered in council were tolerably well
iuiomi, bat he maintained that the worst of these
did not amount to treason. "Opinione,* said he,
" m&y make an heretic, but that they made a
traitor, I have never heard till now."

Ou the 10th of April, Pym, Strafford's evU
geniuB, intimated to the commons that he bad to
communicate a matter of the last importance. In-
stantly an order was given that the members
should remain in their places and the doors be
locked; and then Pym and Harry Vane the
younger were called upon to declare what they
knew of the matters contained in the 23d article
of the impeachment. Fym produced and read
"a copy of notes taken at a junto of the privy
council for the Scots affiurs, about the Sth of May
last.' These notes had been taken by the older
Vane, one of the secretaries of state; but ther«
are different accounts of the way in which his
son got possession of them. Whitelock, who was
actively engaged on the trial, says that Secretary
Tane, being out of town, sent his son the key of
his study, that he might look iuto his cabinet for
some papers which the secretary wanted; that the
son, in looking over many papers, lighted upon
these notes, which being so decisive against Straf-
ford and BO important to the public, he held him-
self bonnd in duty and conscience to discover
them; and that therenjxin he showed them to
Fym. Others assert that the papers were pur-
posely put iu the way of his son by the elder
Vane because he hat«d Strafford;' while others
again affirm, that the son purloined them, to the
■ore displeasure of his father. The weightiest
part of these private notes of the council was this
— "Your majesty ,' Strafford was made to say,
"having tried all ways, luid being refused, shall
be acquitted before Clod and man. Yon an ab-
solved and loosed from all rule of government,
and free to do what power will admit : and you
have an army in Ireland that you may employ to
reduce Ibis kingdom to obeiUence; for I am con-
fident the Scots cannot hold out five months."

After Strafford had made his reply to this
additional proof, Arundel, the lord-steward, told
him that if be had anything further to aayin his
defence he should proceed, because the court in-
tended to prepare for their speedy judgment
The prisoner, though suffering greatly In body as
well as mind (for his old enemies, the gout and
stone, had revisited him in the Tower), made a
summary of the several parts of his former de-
fence, and concluded with very eloqneut and
pathetic words.' "Certiunly," adds Whitelock,

" never any mau acted such a part on snch a
theatre with more wisdom, constancy, and elo-
quence; with greater reason, judgment, and tem-
per; and with a better grace in all hiawordBaiul
gestures.* He moved many men to pity : but
Pym was pitiless; he conudered the Ufe of the
great criminal, in any circumstances, as daI^;er-
ous to the liberties of his country; and he and
Qlynne learnedly aggravated bis offences, and
maintained that they should be pnnished as trea-
son. On the 17th of April the point of law was
argued for the earl, for Strafford was allowed
counsel, which had not always been the case in
prosecutions for high treaaou. But by this time
the commons had changed their tack, fearing the
increasing good feeling of the peers towards the
[ffisoner, and the royal prerogative of pardoning
him after sentence. They had resolved to pro-
ceed with a bill of attainder against Stisfford
for endeavouring to subvert the liberties of his
country. This bill encountered a much stronger
opposition in the commons than had been ex-
pected. Upon the 19th of April, upon the mo-
tion for the engrossment of the bill, there was a
sharp debate; the eloquent Lord Digby, hitherto
one of the most popular members, speaking vehe-
mently against it. His lordship admitted that
ThomsH, Earl of Strafford, was a name of hatred
in the present age by his practices, and fit to be
made a terror to future ages by his punishment.
"I believe him," said he, "still that grand apos-
tate to the commonwealth, who must not expect
to be pardoned iu this world till he be despatched
to the other." But then he objected to the va-
lidity of the evidence, which he thought had al-
together failed to establish treason as the law
then stood. "God keep me," said his lordship,
"from giving judgment of death ou any man,
and of ruin to his innocent posterity, upon a law
made i potteriori. ... To condemn my Lord of
Strafford judicially as for treason, my conscience
is not nssured that the matter will bear it: and
as to doing it by the legislative power, my reason
cannot agree to that; since I am persuaded nei-
ther the lords nor the king will pass the bill, and
consequently that our passing it will be a cause
of great divisions and combustions in the State.
And therefore my humble advice is, that, laying
aside this bill of attainder, we may think of an-
other, saving only life, such aa may secure the
state from my Lord of Strafford, without endan-
gering it as much by division concerning his
hid ^ta ukd gIvU loodn^ ha <■ • miwt •loqnnt mu. Ob*
paiHs* ii meat ipakn of: hit hmktuf off, Id iwpikf ud
■ll«BS,ThiBh*q;>alHof hltOntirUa. Boma took It ftn > In*
(MM In hit nHtnoTT, othan tat % bot*b]* pait of fak riHtodc ;
■DidB, thit tnu griCif vid niBont it thx nnnnlmnn htd
itojipsd hit moutii ; (tor thsf hj that hit Hut Ud^ bdof witb
cUld, ud Ondluf ons df hit nktrw^i PttMri, biw|lil it Is hiB,
■nd lALdinK him thu^Bn, bt ilruck btr on tba bnut, wftinirf

»Google

pnnishmeiit aa he hath endangered it by bis pno-

Iit law, in reason, in bumuiitj, Digb/a Bpeecb
iraa conclasive : but othera aaw no Becnrit; to the
state except in the block; and the violent pas-
wona of some within the honae, stimulated and
encouraged to action by the still more violent
paaaioDS of many without, opposed themselves to
bis lordahip, who, moreover, waa now auapected,
and npou very good grounds, of being won over
to the court through the fascinations of the queen.
On the Slat of A^oil the bill of attainder waa
paued in the commons by an immense majority,'
and aent up in the afternoon to the loiiis. The
peers showed no great haste in despatching the
bill. To quicken them, mobs gathered round the
parliament house, crying for Straflbrd's blood;
and a petition to the aame effect, and signed by
many thouaanda, was presented by the city of
London, The commons sent up Mr, Hyde, af-
terwards Lord Clarendon, to acquaint their lord-
ships that they had heard that the Earl of Straf-
ford was desigoing to escape; and to desire that
he might be made a close priaoner, and the guards
strengthened. It is indeed quite certain that se-
veral attempts were made to releaae the priaoner,
and that achemes wtan entertained, which, if
they had succeeded, would have sent the leaders
of the commons to take his place in the Tower.
Charles bad hastened to assure Strafford that,
though be might be forced to make some sacri-
fices to the violence of the times, he would never
consent that' ao faithful a servant should suffer
in life, fortune, or honours. The king entertained
apian, which seemed feasible: one hundred trusty
soldiers were to be suddenly introduced into the
Tower; and these men, it was calculated, would
give him the entire command of that fortre«9.
Another plan was to remove Strafford from the
Tower, under the pretext of conveying him to
another prison, and to rescue faim on the journey.
But there was oite calculation in which the de-
visemof theaevariouadesignswereinfault. Bal-
four, the lieutenant of the Tower, without whom
nothing could be done, was proof to bribes and
royal promises: be waa attached to the popular
cause — perhaps intimidated by the formidable
aspect of the city of London, and by the prospect
of danger to himself; harefuaed to obey the royal
warrant, and turned scornfully away from Straf-

' Only Oftj-fimr. <

■■ WUtalul

K BFtf-nJDv nHml3«n
uid on ths tillDiilii(
nn pUcardfld in tfw
UUrr, •rwinUUngtu
Mnj their ooaabj. Niilvn hti that «nplioiu mia tikm
lulLa ImntilDiibj'ittDqiiiiitipwhiiiicHitbiFildqfi.lkiw-
Inc. wfan hU loid^lp uplatntd; tbit (ur tha piiKnt ttian
»■* DotUinf dona, thangb aftarwAnU (he alaepbif retenga
miHd ttaelf, and apu the ISth ot JdIj the ipeech. bf snlar of
tke bDia*j TH burned b; the commoa habfnuB — An ItttpaHial

'ford, who offered him ^2,000, and (it is said) a
matrimonial alliaDce.

After the ntter failure of these, and of other
and far more desperate schemes, Charles resolved
td try whether he could not prevail over the com-
mons in an audience; and on the 1st of May he
called both Houses of Parliament before him, and
passionately desired of them not to proceed se-
verely againat the earl. He told them that ori-
ginally he had not had any intention of speaking
in this business, bnt now it had come to pass,
through their proceeding by attainder, that he,
of necessity, must have part in the judgment; he
told them that they aU knew he had been present
at the hearing of the trial, from the one end to
the other, and so was conversant with all their
proveedinga that way, and the nature of their
evidence; that in his conscience he conld not con-
demn him of high treason. He left it to their
lordships (he never mentioned the commons in
tliis address) to find some way or other to bring
him out of this great strait, and yet keep them-
selves and the kingdom safe ; and he proposed
that Strafford should be puniahad as for misde-
meanours and not treason.*

On their return to their own house, the com-
mons testified their discontent at the king's inter-
ference, and his invasion of their privileges. The
following day was a Sunday, which gave the
Puritan preachers the opportunity of inflaming
the popular mind, by preaching the necessity of
justice upon great delinquents, and proving by
Scripture texts that Heaven would be hi^ly
gratified by a bloody sacrifice. Their discourses
produced the desired effect: on the following
morning, a fierce rabble of about GOOD issued
from the city, and thronged down to Westminster
and the Houeea of Parliament, with clubs and
staves, crying out for justice against the Earl of
Strafibrd. At the same time there was almost
as great a ferment within the commons' house,
where Pym and his friends were imparting in-
formation about some practices in the north "U>
distract the English army, and to debauch them
sgainut the parliameut." The commons soon
voted that it was necessary to close the sea-ports,
and to desire his majesty to command that no
person attending upon himself, the queen, or
prince, Rhould depart without leave of bis ma-
jesty, granted upon the humble advice of his par-
liament ; and, after further debate, they resolved
that a "solemn protestation " should be taken by
the whole house, promising, vowing, and protest-
ing, in the preaence of Ood, to maintain, with
their life, power, end estates, the true reformed
Protestant religion againat all Popery and Popish
innovation; to maintain and defend his majesty's
royal person and estate, as also the power and

»Google

48t

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

[Cre

D MlUTART.

privilege of pni'Iiniuentu, the Inwful rights and
liliertiea of the subject, 4c. Mr. Maynard read,
aud probably composed thia bond, which, though
lew emphatic, and far shortei-, was an evideut
imitation of the Scottish Covenant. It was in-
stantly subscribed by the apeaker, and by every
memlier present.' Forthwith they deapatched a
message to the lords, to acquaint them with their
ftlnmi.1, arising out of the secret practices to dis-
content the army, Ac, and to request that a se-
lect comn)itt«e might be appointed to take eiami-
nationsupon oath, concerning desperate plots and
designs. And at the same time the commons
agreed upon a letter to the army i n the north , to
assure them that they should have money, and
that the house could not doubt of their affections
to the parliament, notwithstanding the efforts
made to corrupt them. Nor did they stop here ;
to provide against foreign invasion, tliey oi'dered
that the foi-ees in Wiltshire and Hampshire
should be drawn towards Portsmouth, and the
forces in Kent and Sussex concentrated at Dover;
and they declared that any man advising or as-
sisting the introduction of any foreign force
should be reputed a public enemy to the king
and kingdom.' These resolutions were sent np
to the lords in the afternoon, together with the
Protestation, which the commons desired might
also be taken by every member of their lordshiprf
house. On the morrow, the 4th of May, the
lords desired a conference with the commons;
and when the two houses met, the lord privy-seal
stated that his majesty had. taken notice how the
people assembled in such unusual numbers (while
he was speaking the houses were surrounded by
another mob from the city), that the council and
peace of the kingdom might be thereby inter-
rupted, EUid, therefore, as aking that loved peace,
and made it his care that all proceedings in par-
liament might be Tree, his majesty desired that
these interruptions might be removed, and wished
both houses to devise how this might he done.
Hie lords further declared, at this conference,
that they were drawing to a conclusion of the
bill of attainder, but that they were so encom-
passed with multitudes of people, that their lord-
ships might be conceived not to be free, unless
those multitudes were sent to their homes. This
was soon done ; for the lords having agreed to
and taken the Protestation, Dr. Burgess, a popu-
hir preacher, went out ivnd addressed the mob.
The doctor acquainted them with the Protesta-
tion, read that bond to them, and besought them
in the name of the parliament to retire quietly
to their honsen; and they all departed forthwith.

tnsk th* ProtsHition. Riuhmrlh (Ivs thslU. Waknoftnot

Soon after, the Protestation was tendered to thb
whole kingdom, aa the Covenant had been in
Scotland, with the same intimation, that whoso-
ever refused it should be set down as an enemy
to his country's liberties and religion.

Men's minds were now so over-excited by con-
stant talk and rumours of desperate plots, that
the slightest cipcurastanco sufficed to crests peri-
lous alarm. On the 5th of Mny, as Sir Walter
Earl was making a report to the house of some
fabulous plot to blow them sll up after the fash-
of OuidoF&wkes,thebreaktDg or cracking of
a plank under the weight of two corpulent mem-
bers caused a terrible excitement, and the mardi
of civic trosps to the house. The dtieene collec-
ted in immense numbera; one regiment of the
train-bands armed upon beat at dram, and they
all proceeded together towards Westminster to
secure the parliament; but, finding there was no
cause, they returned again. It may possibly be
that some men looked upon this false alarm hs a
good experiment on the devotion of the citizens to
the parliament; and the result was certainly well
calculated to warn the king. On the following day
the house was informed that sis or eight danger-
ous conspirators — among whom were Henry 3eV'
myu {the queen's favourite) and Henry Percy,
both membei'S of the House of Commons — had
iled, and that the queen was preparing to go after
them. On Friday, the 7th of May, the lords
passed the bill abrogating the king's ]>rerogativ«
to dissolve parliament, and also the bill of at-
tainder against SlrafTord. Both were passed in
a thin house— for the Catholic peers would not
take the Protestation, and kept away, and the
friends uf Strafford, it is said, were afraid of the
mob. Those present voted, that the 15th and
19th articles had been fully proved, and that
Strafford, as therein charged, had levied money
in Ireland by force, in a warlike manner; and
had forcibly imposed an unlawful oath upon the
subjects in Ireland.' They consulted the judges,
and the judges unanimously declared that these
ofTences amounted to treason ! The bill was pas-
sed in the lords by a majority of twenty-six to
nineteen. On the morrow, the 8th of May, the
commons requested the lords to join with them
to move his majesty for his consent to the bill of
attainder, as they conceived that the peace of the
kingdom depended upon the immediate execu-
tion of that bill ; and the upper house agreed
to their request, and sent a certain number of
peers to wait upon bis majesty. Charles was
now without hope and without help. His own
feeling, his pride, his honour, suggested that he
ought to risk any extremity rather than seal
Strafford's doom ; but he had not moral courage
for this course. The prisoner in the Tower held

»Google

*.D. 1641.] CHAR

his life by k thread. But stitl, to do something
for faia Hervant, or to salve over bia own con-
science, Charles, on the momir — it «u a Sunday
— Bummoned his privy council together lU White-
liall, c&lled in some of the jadges and bishope, pro-
pounded BFvei^ scruples, impartedhia doubts and
misgiviDgs, and asked their opinions. Honest,
plaiD-apoken Juxon, Bishop of Loudon, boldly
advised him not to consent to the shedding of
the blood of a man whom in hie heart ho be-
lieved to be innocent. Williams, the old Bishop
of Lincoln, and now about to be Archbishop of
York,' was of a very different opinion. He told
Charles "that there was a private and a public
conscience ; that hia public conscience as a king
might not only dispense with, but oblige him to
do that which was against his private conscience
OS a man; and that the question was, not whether
he should save the Earl of Strafford, but whether
he should perish with him ; that the
of a king to preserve his kingdom, the
of a husband to preserve his wife, the conscience
of a father to preserve his children (all which
were now in danger), weighed down abundantly
all the considerations the conscience of a nuuter
or a friend could suggest to him, for the preser-
vatiou of a friend or servant ; and by such un-
prelatical, ignominious arguments, in plain terms, <
advised him, even for conscience' sake, to pass
that act"' Three "others of the same function,
for whose learning end sincerity the king and
the world had great«r reverence" — Usher, Pri-
mate of Armagh, Uoreton, Bishop of Durham,
and another bishop, advised Charles to guide his
conscience by the opinion of his judges. The
judges, it is said, refused to give any reasons for
their opinion, and merely slated that the case of
Strafford, as put to them by the lords, was trea-
son. The majority of the council pressed upon
him the votes of both houses of parliament and
the imminent danger of a refusal; and, late on
Sunday evening, Charles reluctantly sul)8cribed
a commission to give his assent to the bill. Ac-
cording to one account, be shed tears ; according
to another, he exclaimed that the condition of
the doomed Strafford was happier than his own.
On the [Seceding Tuesday the prisoner had
addressed a remarkable and a very touching let-
ter to the king. He bemoaned the fate of his
numerous progeny who must be beggared by his
attainder; he spoke of the king's conscience, but
hedeclaredthathewasquite ready to die in order
to establish a "blessed agreement" between his
majesty and his anbjects; nay, he even requested
the king to pass the bill of attainder. Some
writers are of opinion that, in penning this letter,
Strafford whs heroically sincere; that the pri-

1 WlUlkiM wu pnowtvd to Yort on Um 40) of DKrabn- of

-XS I. 485

Boner was willing to throw off his afflicted mortal
coil, and that his life should be a peace-offering :
but we confess we cannot entertain this notion,
but are rather inclined t« regard the letter as
having been written to work upon the feelings of
theking, who might probably have been expected
to use it as he had used a similar letter of Good-
man (which had saved that priest's life), and with-
out any intention or expectation on the part of
Strafford that his life should be sacrificed by his
master. Oneof the bestof contemporary author-
ities we have to follow says, that the king sent
Carleton to the prisoner to acquaint him with
what he had done, and the motives of it, especi-
ally the earl's own consent to die; that Strafford
then terioudi/ asked whether hia majesty had
passed the bill or not — "as not believing without
some astonishment, that the king would 'have
done it" — and that, being again assured that the
bill was really passed, he rose from his chair,
lifted up bis eyes to heaven, laid hia hand ufton
hisheart,and said, "Put not your trust in prin-
ces, nor in the sons of men, for in them there is

Two days after the fatal Saturday, on Uon-
day, the JOth of May, the commission empower-
ing the Earl of Arundel (the lord privy-seal) and
two other lords to give the royal sasent to the
bill for the execution of the Earl of Strafford
ufion the Wedjiemiay following, passed the great
seal ; and the commons were sent for to the lords,
to be present at the giving the royal assent to
that bill, and to the bill for doing away the pre-
rogative of dissolving parliament. And on the
same day Charles sent to inform both houses
that the Irish army, which had caused so great
an alarm, should be instantly disbanded ; in re-
turn for which gracious message the commons
assured Charles that they would make him as
glorious a potentate and as rich a prince as any
of hia predecessors. On the morrow, the 1 1th of
May, only one day before that fixed for the exe-
cution, Charles sent a letter to the lords by the
hands of the young Prince of Wales. The royal
breast must have been occupied by greater fears
than ever ; for it is scarcely possible to conceive
a more trembling and miserable petition for
mercy, and the concluding words made the doom
of death prominent, and, as it were, inevitable.
They were these—" But if no less than his life can
satisfy my people, I must say ' fiat juttitia.'

" Postscript. — If he must die, it were charity
to reprieve him till Saturday.*

By this strange postscript Charles indeed mani-
fcBtly surrendered Strafford, and gave the lords
cause to suspect that he was doing something for
decency but nothmg in earnest. The lett«r ww
twice read in the upper bouse, and after " serious

,v Google

486

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[ClTlL AND MlLITART.

and sad consuleratioD," twelve peers were seat
to tell the king that iieltiier of the two inteationa
eipi'esBed in tlie letter could, with duty in them,
or without danger to himself, the queen, and all
the young princes, poaslbly be advised. Without
permitting the twelve noble messengers to use
any moi'e words, Charles said, " What I intended
by my letter was with an ' i/' it might be done
with contentment of my people. If that cannot
be," he added, " I say again fiat juttitial My
other intention, proceeding out of cliarily for a
few days' respite was, upoa certain information

tliat his estate was bo distracted that it m
rily required some few days for settlement." To
this the lords replied, that it «aa their paipost)
to be suitors to his majesty, that favour might
be showed to StrafToi'd's innocent children, and
that if the prisoner had made any provision for
them the same might hold.' Then Charles turned
away from the lords, who stayed him to offer into
his hands the letter which he had just sent to
them. " My lords,' said Charles, " what I have
written to you I shall be content it be registered
by you in your house : in it you see my mind;

BiKD's-ErK View or

HI Towm or Lohdoh.— From t.

Dn

>rlu nude betwm l«l ud 168»

ICirtln'i Town

K. Brtl TMor.

[ V. lanUmTo.™.

W. nnaid Townr,

C' L<«r> Mount. '

S. BLoodT To<r«.
Y. TJw Ct.p.1,

D. b£ Mount.

N. nintTowir

E. D—lllBfTowH.

F. W<1] Toir^r

P.' BriJtx'mt™

a. CndlE Tawar.

(J. Jtnl To-«,

R Coa«>hl>'i Ta«r.

B. Br«d Amw Towsr

T. B^tlWer.

1 etd«r of Lord Duttawstb,

I hope you will use it to my honour." The next | the morrow morning, when he came forth to die,
day was the fatal Wednesday. During the preced- I he said, as he drew near to that partof the Tower
ing night, the last of his stormy career, Strafford | wherethe archbishop was confined,"Maater Lieu-
received the visit of Archbishop Usher, whom | tenant, though I do not see the archbiahop, givo
he requested to go to hU old friend and fellow- I me leave to do my last observance towards hw
priaoner I^ud, and beg him to lend him his "^

.■ - 1 ■ 1.. ti - I <..u~*t tiira»i!i»«*l)r«nmU«e»col1<

prayers that night, and give him his blessing Uiiut»U(Ti)«Binflbni'iimMinaiiU
when he ahonld go abroad on the morrow. Ou ; uiudar.

»Google

A.D. lUI.] C

rooms.* But in tbe meantime. Laud, advertised
of his apprOKcfa, came up to the window. Then
the tmx\ bowed himself to the ground and mid,
*• My lord, your prayers and your blessing." The
archbishop lifted uphiahandsandbentowedboth,
but overcome with grief he fell to the ground,
and the proceerion moved onwards. But after he
had proceeded a little further, Strafford bent him-
self a second time, and said, " Farewell, my lord;
God protect your innocence.' According to the
laborious Bushworth, the clerk of the psriia'
ment, and one of the innumerable eye-witnesses,
he marched towards the scaffold upon Tower-hill
more like a general at the head of an anay than
like a condemned man. He was atteuded upon the
Bcaffold by Archbishop Usher, the Earl of Cleve-
land, and his brother Sir George Wentworth;
and other friends were present to take their last
leave. The multitude collected to sea him die
was estimated at 100,000 men, women, and chil-
dren ; but all [n'eserved a respectful and awe-
ntmck silence. He had prepared the heads of a
speech, which he now delivered. ' He said, that
he was come to submit to the judgment passed
against him; that he did submit with a quiet and
contented mind, freely forgiving all the world.
His conscience, he said, bore him witness that
he was innocent, although it was his ill-hap to
he misconstrued. The eiecutioner severed his
neck at one blow, and holding up the bieediug
head towards the people, cried, " Ood save the
king !" The people scarcely believed what they
saw ; they shouted not, they gave way to no ma-
lignant or triumphant feelings ; hut in the even-
ing they testified their joy and satisfaction by
lightbg bonfires in the streets.*

The death of Strafford completed the panic
among the old placemen, most of whom now
abandoned office in the hope of escaping im-
peachment. 8t John had already been made
attorney-general, and one of his first offices as
such had been to drive on the trial of the great
earl. On the 17th of May, the Lord Cottington
gave ap his place as master of the wards, which
was conferred npon the Puritanic and patriotic
Lord Say. The Marqais of Hertford was made
governor to the prince, the Earl of Esses lord-
<!hamberlain, and the Earl of Leicester, another
nobleman of the popular party, was made Lord-
lientenantof Ireland. All these men werestrong
in the confidence of the House of Ck>mmons, but,
from their first moment of entering upon office,
they were btolerable to the king, who never
tmated them, and who pursued so many by-
paths with them that they ended (possibly they
had begun) by never tmsting him. On the 2Sd
of June the commons presented to the king their

> MaJavO; KaltMu Mvf, Sir F. Wtnhck.

LES r. 487

grant of tonnage and poundage, which lie now
accepted as a gift from his people. Six subsidies
had also been voted. Three otheracts were like-
wiiM presented, one imposiuga poll-tax for the de-
fraying of tbe charges of the armies, the second
and third putting down for ever the High Com-
mission Court and the detestable Star Chamber,
which had, in fact, both fallen into decrepitude
at the opening of the present parliament Ou
the 2d of Jnly, Charles gave his assent to the
poll-tax bill, probably hoping that it would dis-
gust the people, and turn them against their new
legislators or rulera ; but he demnrred upon the
other two ads. The commons voted that he
should pass all three or none at all; and Charles,
alarmed at their tone, ou the 5th of July, passed
the other two also.

The important events which we have bad to
condense have carried us over some family inci-
dents which were far from being of insignificant
moment. In the autumn of 1638, the intriguing,
turbulent, conscisncelessMary de'Uedici, Queen-
dowager of CWnce, and mother to Henrietta
Kfaria, arrived in England, and was conducted
in great state through London. Cardinal Riche-
lieu, after a hard contest, had driven her out of
France with disgrace and in poverty. Her daugh-
ter, the Queen of Spain, could not, or would not
grant her an asylum: the Queen of England had
more filial tenderness, or more power, and after
long entreaties she prevailed upon Charles to re-
ceive and maintain her. The country, the reli-
gion, the manners of this royal refugee all ren-
dered her obnoxious to the people. The asilora
who brought her over called the equinoctial gales
which raged during her passage " queen-mother
weather;* and popular superstition connected the
coming of the Papist and idolatress with a pesti-
lence that was then raging. Nor were these pre-
indices removed by the liberality of the king,
who granted her an enormous pension, and a
patent or monopoly upon leather.

Whenever the popular excitement was great,
Mary de' Uedici and her train of priests came in
for a large share of abuse. Terrified at some
great crowds and tnmalts during the trial of
Strafford, she desired a guard for her security.
The commons, saying that they were bound in
honour not to suffer any violence to be done to
her, referred the business to a committee. Ifr.
Henry Martin reported that the committee had
agreed to provide for her safety by all good ways
and means; being, however, of opinion that the
best thing she could do was to be gone out of Eng-
land, he moved that the house would entreat the
lords to join with them in a petition to his ma-
jesty that the queen-mother might l>e moved to
depart the kingdom, the rather for the quieting
those jealonsie* in the hearts of his majesty^

»Google

488

II [STORY OF ENGLAND.

[a.

a MiUTART.

well-affecUd subjects, occasioned by Bome ill
iostruments &bout the queen's pecsoii, by the
flocking of pnesla and F&pisU to hev house, and
by the use and practice of the idolatry of the
mass.' Charles, howevar, held out ; bat Mary
de' Medici was made restless and wretched by
coustwit alarms, and soan showed that she was
more anxious bi leave England than ever she had
been to come to it. The only thing that was
wanting was money for her journey, and the
commons gladly voted her ;£10,000 out of the
poll-tas. In the month of July she iaak her de-
parture, to become again a homeless wanderer;
but she did not wander far, dying at Cologne
shortly after.

Oil the 4th of August, Serjeant Wild, in the
name of the commons of England, presented at
tha bar of the upper house charges of impeach-
meut against thirteen biahops* who had been
most active in pursuing Laud's system, and who
were especially charged with contriving, making,
and promulgating, in the late convocatiou, seve-
ral constitutions and canons ecclesiastical, con-
trary to the king's prerogative, the laws of the
realm, the rights of parliament, and the proper-
ties and liberties of the people. By this measure,
though the bill for depriving prelates of their
seats bad been lost, thirteen bishops were kept
away from parliament.

The Scottish Covenanters, on the whole, had
had a very comfortable Ume of it in the north of
England: it had been for the interest of the
comroonatokeepthem well supplied with money,
and to administer to their comforta in other re-
spects. The military duty was light, allowing
an abundance of time for preaching and praying;
and the English people in those provinces had
before, or they then contracted, an affection for
the Calviuistic doctrine. As long as the royal
army was kept on foot at York, the parliament
considered it unsafe to permit the departure of
Leslie's ai^ny; and it was very easy for them to
prolong the negotiations; but at length, in the
beginning of August, the treaty of pacificatioD
was concluded— Charles agreeing not merely to
disband his army at York, but also to withdraw
the strong garrisons which ha had thrown into
Berwick and Carlisle. The Scots obtained the
security of the English parliament for payment
of a balance of .£220,000 of the "brotherly assist-

1 K^almrU.

Conntry.

Altfb. Bath ud W*Urk Bmfbnl, Bj, Bufoi, Brltua, Batt

lAod, Arehblthop of CuitorbuTT. wu pat «t thn and of t>iA I'
ThB KWuneni did not ftiiat to Uln iwtk» of tbetr brlbo m '
klBf. Tb<T Hkl, In Unit InpnohnHnt, " Aad to add m

YolvBQa or oontiibatkai lo hh majcaty, tc

and tdr litis, gi

," and " with store of Englisli money and
spoils, and the best entertainment, they left tbetr
warm and plentiful quarters"— not, however, until
Ijeslie had seen that Charles's army was really
disbanding. During the negotiationa. Charts
had offered to go into Scotland, and to meet the
Scottish parliament for the better settlement of
sundry matters ; and as early as the month of
June he had announced bis intention of making
this journey. But it in no way suited the Eng-
lish parliament to let him go at this moment, nor
could his utmost efforts obtain their pennissioa
until the 10th of August. The popular party
considered the joivney as rife with danger and
intrigue; and some of them, even at the last
moment, would have prevented it. They dewred
the king tj) aj^int a regent during his absence;
but Charles got over this difliculty by naming
commissioners, and, having given the command
of all the forces on this side Trent to the popu-
lar Earl of Essex, he got into his carriage rumi-
nating deep things, being attended by none in
the coach but his nephew, Cliarles Louis, Elector
Palatine (who had got out of Richelieu's clut-
ches), by hia cousin, the Duke of Lennox, created
Duke of Richmond, and by the Marquis of Ham-
ilton. He had not been gone a week when the
Earl of Holland, formerly the queen's favourite,
but now irritated against her and the whole court,
sent a letter to the House of Peers, " with some
obscure words, as if there were new practices
and desigua against the parliament.' "Hie lords
imparted the contents of the letter to tlie com-
mons, who forthwith appointed commissioners
to go into Scotland, ostensibly to superintend the
ratiRcation of the recent treaty, but in reality to
keep watch over the king, and, in the language
of their iustructions, " to certify the parliament
from time to time of their proceedings, and of alt
occurrences which shall concern the good of this
kingdom." The peraons appointed for these de-
licide offices were, the Earl of Bedford, Edward.
Lord Howard, Nathaniel Fiennes, Sir William
Armyne, Sir Philip Stapleton, aud Mr. Hamp-
den ; and a draft of a commisaion was sent after
the king far him to sign, empowering the said
commiaiionen to treat, confer, and ooncliKta
with such commissioners as should be named by
the Scottish porliament. Charles, very anxious
to avoid this surveillance, refused to sign tlia
conunissiou, and (old the English parliament that
he did BO because the treaty was alrecdy ratiBed
by the parliament of Scotland. The Scottish
army was over the Tweed, and the lord-general
had almoat disbanded all the English army; and
therefore his majesty saw no necessity for snch
commission, yet, in the end, was pleased to give
leave to the members named to come and attend
him in Scotland, &c. This answer was not written

,v Google

AD. leii.]

CHAELES 1.

489

tiU the 2Cth of August For reMona not explain-
ed, the Earl of Bedford did not go, but Lord
Howard, Mr. Hampden, and the reat, haatened
into Scotland.

In the meantime the king had made a pleasant
joumej.andnietwithakiadreceptian. Hedined
with Iieilie in his camp, caresaed that old aolrlier
of fortune, and endearourod to corrupt hia otB-
cers.' At Bdinbui^h, forgetting his intolerances,
and the lessons of Laud, he listened with an ap-
proving countenance to the Presbyterian preach-
ers, and oiitwardl]' conformed to their simple or
bare ceremonies. It was a curious, and, for him,
a humiliating sight! The Scot^ could hardlj
fai^et how, a few months before, he had endea-
voured to drire them from that worship bj can-
non balls. And as it seemed necesaar; for the
king of the Presbyterian Scots t« have a Presby-
terian chaplain, Charles appointed to that office
Alexander Henderson, the man who had had a
piincipal hand in overthrowing the bishops and
writing the bond of the Coyenant.' At the same
time, so far from showing any ill-will towards the
chiefs of the Covenanteis, he treated them all,
whether lay or clergy, nobles or burghers, with
a great show of respect and even affbctjon. Some
he gratified with titles, some with employment,
all with promises. lu his opening speech to the
parliament, he declared that affection for his na-
tive laud had brought him thither, where he hoped
to remedy all jealonsiea and distractions ; and he
engaged cheerfully to fulfil all that had been stip-
ulated in the treaty. He reminded them, how-
ever, of his ancient descent, and of the rights and
high standing which that circumstance ought to |
give him. Not looking at history with a critical
eye, he told them that he claimed their allegiance
as thedescendantof one hundred and eight Scot-
tish kings 1 and he offered to ratify the acts of
their last session la the old form by the tonch of
his sceptre. The Covenanters, not much moved
by the oratorical part of the address, told him
thftt the acts of the Scottish parliament were
valid without such assent

The chief oiGcee of the state were now vacant',
and pariiament claimed the right of appmntment
to these places, or at least insisted that they should
not be filled except by their advice. Charles
straggled hard to aave this his last or only re-
maining prerogative in Scotland: hat the Cove-
nanten were not only 8UB)Meious of the kingfa

rjUkalJla

Honw tlan beftm, h«

OuirW. good InUntk

IBl tOWin

lihlm. -num^MtT,"

■ mehwg.ri" Andthm

oldaBpalgur itUntd Id hi.

wtian. ■- LMt of mil

Bldt»

"I an U*» .broul. Kid

Wmr.,

k(«Ur-l»>bl»thu

Cut«bai7inaib*li

appointments, but anxious to keep their govern-
ment independent of the cabinet of St. James's,
to which it had been subservient — occasionally
to the detriment of Scottish iuterestsBud national
honoiu- — ever since James had succeeded to the
throne of Elizabeth i and they opposed with all
their might the assumption of the prerogative.
There was, however, one gleam of comfort for
the king in this long struggle about offices ; he
saw many noble Scots bo fiercely bent on the ob-
taining of places for themselves, that he fancied
they must break out into feuds and parties, some
of which might yet rally i-ound hiuL According
to an eye-witness, he promised on alt sides, and
granted, at least in words, whatever was asked.
In the end thepartiaacame toanaoMmmocfafion;
the Covenanting leaders in parliament agreed to
reduce the number of incendiaries to five,(t<fre-
lease the incendiaries and plotters from prison,
and to refer their trial to a committee, Iheir sen-
tence to the king; and Charles agreed that the
appointment of minist«rs, judges, and privy coun-
Betlors should be by and with the approbation of
the estates while parliamcut was sitting, and of
the privy council when it was adjourned or dis-
solved. But still the matter was far from being
settled : Argyle, the great champion of the Cove-
nant, desired the post of chancellor ; Charles pre-
ferred giving it to Loudon, whom he had com-
mitted to the Tower for the famous letter " Au
Baj.' While the discontent was great, and in-
trigue in full activity, there happened what Scot-
tish historians significantly cali the " Incident."
Ai^le, who was feared and detested by the king,
and Hamilton, who had incurred the royal sus-
picion ever since he had consented to play that
double part with the Covenanters, which Charles
had put upon him as a proof of his loyalty and
affection, were the most powerful men in the
Scottish parliament. If they coald be crushed
the king might yet raise his head, or so he fondly
fancied. There was a third noble Scot involved
in the " Inddent*— a man far more remarkable
than the former two ; this was the brave, adroit,
and unprincipled Earl of Montrose, who had al-
ready been, by turns, courtier and Covenanter,
and then kin^s man again. He had marched
into England with the army of Leslie ; he bad
enjoyed, as we have seen, the entire confidence
of the Covenanters ; he hod been appointed one
of their commissioners to treat with the king at
Rjpoo and York ; and, in the latterplace, be had
been won over by the graces, the arts, and pro-
mises of Charles, to betray his colleagues. It was
agreed between them that Montrose, in order to
be more useful, should continue to play the part
of a zealous Covenanter. Charles, with all his
cunning, was at times very careless : he kept in
bis pocket, at York, a letter, is whioh Montrose

168

,v Google

+90

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

D Military.

eiignged to do hie service ; and this letter was
stolen out of Iiib pocket, copied, and sent to tlie
Covenanters. Whitelock aajs that this was done
by Hamilton. While Montrose had time he as-
sured the king, by letter, that there were men iu

James aniHiH, E»r], ir

1 Krunnrdi tfuqnli. of lloolrrmt.'

Scotland who, if supported by bis niajeaty's pre-
sence, would both make and prove a chat^ of
treason against Hamilton and Ai^Ie ; but he '
and some of his associates were soon arrested and
committed to the castle of Ediiiburgh as plotters
and banders. It was observed, however, that
Charles did not treat Hamilton with his former
respect or favour ; and one day the LoM Ker
sent him a. charge of treason. Hamilton appealed
to the parliament, which declared him innocent,
and compelled Eer to make an apology. Mont-
rose, from his dungeon, found means of commu-
nicatiug with the king, and he repeated his charge
against Hamilton and Ai^le; and, according to
Clarendon, who does not appear to have been
much shocked at the proposal, "frankly under-
took" to make away with them both. About a
fortnight after this, Hamilton was warned of a
plot to have him seized, as he entered the pre-
sence chamber, by an armed band, under the com-
mand of the Earl of Crawford— the man who had
carried to him Ker's challenge of treason, and
who was to convey him and his brother Lanark,
and the Earl of Ai^le, on board a king's ship
which was lying in Lcith Roads, or to kill them
iu case of resistance or difficulty. Hamilton had
lime to communicate with his friends ; and then
lie, his brother, and Argyle secured themselves as
well as they could, and their associates in Eiiin-
burgh fortified their houses, and spread the alarm
among the citizens, who flew to arms, and pai-aded

Hport»l

limit lum aub.

the streets all night On the following morning
Hamilton and the other noblemen wrote to in-
form his majeaty of the reasons of their absent-
ing themselves the preceding night from court,
and desired to know what his majesty would be
pleased to command them to do: but Ohaiiea
was not satisfied with tlieir letters ; and in the
afternoon he proceeded t« the parliament house
with near "fiOO soldiers, and the worst affect«d
men about him, with their arms in a menacing
way." " To prevent tumult in the streets," says
Lanark, " we resolved to leave the town, which
could not have been shunned if we had gone to
the parliament house with our friends at our
backs, who would by no means condescend to
leave vm."' "The king's array,' Bail lie writes,
" broke in near-hand to the parliament's outer
wall. The states were mightily offended, and
would not be pacified till Leslie had got a com-
mission, very absolute, to guard the parliament,
with all the bands of the city and regiments yet
on foot, and some troops of horse."

Charles complained of the absence of the three
noblemen, and of the vile slander which Iheir
needless flight and fear bad brought upon bim.
" He professed to detest all such vile treacheries
as were spoken of ; urged a present trial, iu face
of parliament, for the more clearing of hie inno-
cency." The states hesitated, and proposed the
appointing of a committee for a moi-e accurate
trial in private than could have been hnd in pub-
lic. It has been asserted that the objection to &
public investigation was, that the king's presence
would overawe the freedom of irrjuiry ; but it
should seem to us that the humbled king had
then little power to overawe anybody in Scotland.
The parliament made fast the Earl of Crawford,
Colonel Cochrane, and Colonel Stewart, who were
accused of being the principal instrnments iu the
plot; and the king departed dissatisfied. Yet
for several days Charles repeated his demand for
a public trial, even shedding tears to obtain it;
but the more popular party insisted on a private
investigation ; and Charles was at last obliged to
gi\e up the point to a committee. " Many evil-
favoured tilings," Bays Baillie, " were found ; yet
in the papers that went abroad we found nothing
that touched the king.* The investigation waa
so secret in all respects that no records or rejKirtB
of its proceedings have been pi'eserved, an<l, to-
gether with the restof the stoiy of the "Incident,"
it still remains an historical myittery. Tlie end
of it was, that, after some two or three weeks'
absence, upon the king's and parliament's letter*
the fugitive lords returned, and at once seemed
to have as much of the king's confidencft as ever.
j "Sure," says Baillie, " their late danger was the
their favour with the parlia-

I

»Google

AD. 1611.] CHAR

luent ; m>, wbatever ruling they had before, it
\raa then multiplied." Shortif &ft«r Hamiltou
waa made a duke, aad Argjle a marquiit.'

But, before this satisfactory adjustment was
brought about, the "lucideut" produced great
fluspidoDs and stirs in London. The English par-
liament, which had aat for eleven months, ad-
journed from the 9th of September to the SOth of
October, tiiking c&re, however, to leave a stand'
ing committee of both houses to act during the
short racess. On the appointed day the houses
met agaiD; and the lords, observing Palaee-yard
to be full of armed men, moved to know the rea-
sou thereof. The Bart of Essex, capt^n-genenJ
of the south, signified to their lordships that the
committee of the House of Commons, which sat
during the recess, had deured that there might
be a guard of soldiers set about the parliament,
to prevent the insolence and afironts of the dis-
banded soldiers about town, and to secure the
houses against other designs which thej had rea-
son to suspect In effect, Lord Howard, Hampden,
and the other pai'tiamentarj' commissioners sent
into Scotland, had instantly communicated the
afiair of the "Incident," and this was interpreted
into a vast conspiracy, which was to embrace the
three kingdoms, and which was, as usual, deno-
minated a plot of the Papista. And thereupon
the commons had sent to the lord-mayor to secure
the city of London, and had required the justices
of Middlesex and Surrey to obey such orders as
the Earl of Essex might think fit to give them
for the public safety. Now they desired a con-
ference with the lords, to express their sense of
the great danger to the nation from a conspiracy
with many ismiGcations, and from the old design
of seducing the English army. The lords, in
conference, fully agreed with the commons, and
thereupon new instructioua were sent down to
Howard and Hampden, and their brother com-
missioners. But everything that Charles now
did, or left undone, was made an object of doubt
and suspicion, and guarded against by the vigi-
lance of the popular party. It seemed to all men
a Htrauge circumstance that he should prolong his
stay in Scotland, when his presence was so much
required in England ; and many, both friends
and foes, were murmuring at it. He had most of
the crown jewels with him, and it was thought
that he had endeavoured to bribe some of the
Scottish leaders with them— the said jewels to

> Baf/iiur,- italeolm laiag.- Balllia'I IttUrt: Bardlriett
Fapfrt; Cliizvn4oD, Hittory ttj tht Sreat JtrbtUv%. It ftpp«ui
tbH ths Scotlitb oimmlttag of InTmtlgstloa dscUmI Out ~
Utoo ud Kifjia wm &IMI7 URiMd bj MontKaa, ud al>
tha^ {namUlon uul ArEjJ^j tud gocd nuoDB fbr AfltdDg bvta
Bdinbnrgli. Eislpi lajn tint, nbaeqiunllr, tha EofUib pij
eomHU flxamlned Uw iiutl4r. APd d«cUnKI th&t no impoUli
oduM ba Mrt npon tlw bDnmir o! the king fur ujiUng don*

JS L 491

be afterwards redeemed by money; and by thi.^
time it was known that the great collar of rubiea
had been conveyed into Holland, and there
pawned. General Leslie, who a short time be-
fore had expressed his assurance that the king
would hang him if he could, was created a Scot-
tish peer, with the title of Earl of Leven. It i«
said that the soldier of fortune was profuse in
his expressions of gratitude, and promised never

' 1 to take up the sword against his sacred
majesty. One or two other earldoms were con-
ferred on Covenanting leaders ; and out of the
Quss of the dissolved bishoprics, &c., the kinj;
dispensed gratuities to many individuals, includ-
ing, it is said, his Presbyterian chaplain, Hen-
derson. But presently there came a blast from
Ireland, which caused all men to turn their eyes
solely to that country.

The Irish people, far more oppressed than ever
the Scots had been— for they had been deprived
not only of their religious freedom, but of their
rights in their own property — were encouraged
by the example of the Scots, and the successful
issue of that struggle, to contemplate ths possi-
bility of a similar victory in their own case over
the tyranny that bound them. It was not merely
their religion that tempted them — it was also &
[U«speat of recovering the broad acres which they
had once possessed, and which were now In the
hands of the descendants of the foreign invaders
and Protestant colonists. Theirs was a etruggle,
not merely for the eucharist, but for loaves of
bread. Boger Moore, a gentleman of Eildare,
of ancient descent, who saw the patrimony of his
ancestors in the hands of English and Scotch
settlers, was one of the first and most active
agents in the present rising. Within narrow lim-

Moore had played the part ot John of Pro-
cida : he had visited most ports of Ireland, and
secretly harangued the discontented natives, who
generally agreed to rise when called upon. lu
Ulster, Cornelius Maguire, Baron of InniskiUeu,
and Sir Phelim O'Neil, who, aft?r the death of
the son of Tyrone, became chieftain ot his sept,
entered with ardour into all the views of Boger
Moore, and it was agreed among them to prepare
for a general insurrection. Strafford had held
that the best card the king had to play, was the
Irish army which he bad raised; and Charles
had sent instructions (he hoped secret ones) to
the Earls of Ormond and Antrim, to secure tbis
army, to recruit it, and, if possible, to surprise
the castle of Dublin, where they would find am-
munition, storeB,and arms for 12,000 men. But
this Irish army, tbis last cord of a desperate
gamester, consisted almost entirely of Catholics,
and was an object of dread or suspicion, not only
to the English parliament, but also to all Irish
Protestants. With great difficulty, au order was

,v Google

492

HISTOKY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil akd Militart.

wrung from the king for the disbanding of this
force; but, iii remitting the order to Irelmtd,
Charles seut with it a secret message to Ormond
and Anti'im to keep as manj of the men toge-
ther aa they poaaiblj could, uaing their iugeuuity
to deviae pretexts for so doing, and to lull asleep
the susptuions of the Protestant Irish. One of
the plana hit upon for keeping the Irish troops
together wan, to pretend that they were to be
allowed to enter the service of the Spanish go-
vernment of Flanders, and regular commisMons
were sent to certain picked t^cere to enlist the
whole body, as if for the King of Spain. Of the
two higher agents, Antrim was the more active:
he intrigued with these picked ofGcera, and these
officers intrigued with some of the members of
the Irish partiament, who were giad to learn that
the army was not, in reality, maintained for sei^
vice abroad, but for the king's service at home.
The English, the Scots, had disobliged hia ma-
jesty: if the Irish could restore him to his former
state, what might tbey not expect from hia gra-
titude? If the Catholic Irish loved their religion,
what had they to expect from the parliament of
England, which was fiercely Proteatant — which
denounced the Papiata at every move they took
— which coerced alike the king's prerogative and
the conscience of the aubjectf Appeals like these
produced a wonderful effect. In a short time,
thougli their views were different, some of the
officers and men were in intelligence with Corne-
lius Uagnire, Sir Phelim O'Neil, and the other
chieftains of Ulater, with Boger Moore, and with
the couverta he had made in all ports. Some in-
timations were given by Sir William Cole, iu a
letter to the I»rds-justices of Ireland, Sir William
Parsons and Sir John Borlase, concerning dan-
gerous resorts and secret meetinga, but no one
received any certain notice of the conspiracy till
the very eve of its execution. It had been agreed
that the plot should take effect upon the 23d of
October. On that day, many of the Irish gentry
of great quality went into Dublin, but many failed
the rendesvous, and, of a forlorn hope, appointed
to surprise or storm the caatle, only eighty men
appeared. In the course of that night Hugh
M'Mabon got drunk in a tavern, and revealed
the great design to one Owen O'Connelly of Irish
extraction, but a Protestant, and servant to Sir
John Clotworthy, a member of the En^^iah par-
liament. This Owen hastened to reveal what he
had heard to Sir William Parsons; and Dublin
Caatle waa saveil. But iu other parts the bloody
rising took place without check or warning. The
Ulater chieftains and their asaociales fell furiously
npon the towns: Sir Pbelira O'Neil took Chu-k-
mout and Dungannon; O'Quin took Mouutjoy;
M'Oinnis, Newry; and O'Hanlan took Tandera-
gee. No man made head agaiuat them; the Pro-

teatant settlers were robbed and butchered almost
without resistance. No capitulation or agree-
ment signed by the cbie& and officers could res-
cue them from the fury of the more than half-
naked Irish peasantry. Hie flauea apread far
and near, and in a few days all the open country
in Tyrone, Monaghan, Longford, Leitrim, Fer-
managh, Cavan, Doneg^, Deny, and part of
Down, was in the handa of the insui^genta. In
the course of a few weeks the English and Scot'
tiah colMiies seemed to be almoat everywhere up-
rooted. The Protectants exaggerated their loss,
but still it remains certain that the maasacre waa
prodigious. The colonists of Ulster, a brave and
active set of men, but who were taken completely
by surprise, as they were living at the time in
seeming good fellowship with the natives, were
8o reduced in numbera by the first onslaught, that
they could make no head for a considerable time
after. Sir John Temple,' who waa at that time
master of the rolls and a member of the Inali
privy council, described the insurgenta as mur-
dering or stripping and driving out men, women,
and children, wherever their force or their cun-
ning prevailed. The Earl of Castlebaven, a Ca-
tholic, says that all the water in the sea could not
waah off from the Iriah the taint of that rebel-
lion, which begun most bloodily on the English
in a time of settled peace. Clarendon aaya that
forty or fifty thousand were mnrdered in the first
insurrection; and if, instead of firat inanrrection,
we read during the whole insurrection, that is,
from the breaking out, in October, 1641, to the
eesaation, in September, 1643, this number will
not be exaggerated; ncc- will it include tbe Pro-
teatanla who fell iu regular warfare with anna iu
their hands.

On the last day of October O'Ctmnelly, "the
happy discoverer of the first plot," arrived in
Lcmdon with letter from the lords-justices, and
gave a full account of all partieulara within bis
knowledge to the House of Lords. The lords
immediately desired a conference, and the House
of Commons resolved that tbey should forthwith
ait in committee to consider of the rebellion iu
Ireland, and to provide for the safety of England.
This tra^cal business occupied the Houae of
Commona nearly the whole of the month of No-
vember. They showed a rare vigour and alacrity.
Within a week they resolved that X300,(IOO
should be set apart for the Irish government ;
that shipB should be provided for guarding the
IriBhcoasts;tl)at 6000 foot and 2000 horse should
be railed for the Irish service; and that the com-
mittee of Iriah affairs should consider iu what
manner this kingdom might make the best use
of the friendship and assistance of Scotland in
of Ireland.

■ FMh« rf Iha bMter knoSD Sir WUiui IMirU.

,v Google

A.D. 1S41.1 CHAR

The king had received the dreftdful news Id
Scotland before O'Connellj arrived in London.
In ScotlAud, as in England, the effect produced
was appalling, and in both countries, from the
very beginning, the general feeling connected the
bloodj massacre with the intrigues of the king
and queen. Charles named the Earl of Ormond
lieutenaDt-geueral of all his forces in IreUnd ;
and, at last, at the end of November, he took the
road for London, where people continued to won-
der at his prott«cted absence. Upon his arrival
in the citj he was received with some oongratu-
lations, aud was Bumptuoualy feasted by the citi-
zens; all which led him to hope that he might
again be a king indeed. In return he banqueted
the citizens at Hampton Court, and knighted
several of the aldermen. He instantly took of-
fence at the houses surrounding themselves with
an armed guard. The Earl of Essex acquainted
the lords that he had surrendered his commission
of captain-general of the south into hie majesty's
hands, and therefore could take no further order
for these guards. The intelligence was commu-
nicated by their lordships to the commons. Then
Charles informed the bouses, through the lord-
keeper, that as he saw no reason for any such
guards, it was hia royal pleasure that they should
be dismissed, hoping that now his presence would
be a sufficient protection to them. As soon us
this order was communicated to the commons,
they proposed that both houses should petition
the king for the continuance of the guard till
they might satisfy his majesty why a guard was
necessary. After some dispute the lords con-
sented, and the Earl of Warwick and the Lord
Dighy waited upon the king, who thereupon
said, that he would command the Earl of Dorset
to appoint some of the train-bands, only for a
few days, to wut upon both houses. The com-
mons, not satisfied, considered the matter in com-
mittee, aud drew up reasons to proTe the neces-
sity of a protection. They also told the king
that they could not trust him with the nomina-
tion of the commander of their guard, who must
be a person chosen by themselves.

Two days after this the commons presented to
the king their celebi'ated "Kemonetrance of the
State of the Kingdom." This paper was brought
before the honae on the 22d of November. The
house had sat from eight o'clock till about noon,
the hour at which the members usually retired
to dine. Then there was a loud call for the Re-
monstrance. Some would have postponed it, at
80 late an hour, but Oliver Cromwell, and some
otheni, insisted that they should proceed with it.
Oliver Cromwell, who at that time was little
taken notice of, asked the Lord Falkland why he
wonld have it put off, for that day would have
settled iL Falkland answered, that there would

jES I. 493

not have been time enough, "for sure it wonld
take some debate." Cromwell replied, "a very
sorry one;" for he and his party had calculated
that very few would oppose the Remonstrance.'
But Cromwell was disappointed, for there was
a formidable opposition, consisting of men who
considered the Remonstrance as an extreme mea-
sure, appealing too openly to the people against
the king and government; and so fierce and long
was the debate about it, Uiat it took up not only
the day, but a good part of the night also ; and
though the popular party carried it at two o'clock
in the morning, it was only by a majority of nine,
or, according to another account, of eleven. At
the beginning of the debate there was a full
house, but before its close many of the members
had retired from exhaustion;' and hence the de-
cision waa compared to the verdict of a starved
jury. So important a trial of strength was it
deemed, that Oliver Cromwell is said to have
declared, after the division, that he would hare
sold his estate, and retired to America, if the
question had been lost. A violent debate theu
followed, on the motion of Mr. Hampden, that
there might be an order entered for the present
printing of their Remonstrance; and the excite-
ment became so great, that several members were
on the point of proceeding to personal violence.
Mr. Hyde (Clarendon) maintained that to print
and publish the Remonstrance, wiMouf the content
of the peer$, was illegal ; and upon a division, tlie
popular side lost this question by 124 to 101.

The Remonstrance thus carried, was certainly
put forward to stem the returning tide of loyal ty,
by men who felt that the king's love of arbitrary
dominion was much better proved than his sin-
cerity in relinquishing it;' who wero infoimed
on all sides that Charles deplored the restrictioua
put upon him by the parliament, and was con-
stantly making efforts or forming designs to
shake off those restrictions. The paper consisted
of a long preamble, and 206 several clauses.
From the lending of English shipping to Ihe
Papist forces proceeding against the Protestant
Rochellerfi, to the ntmoured Popish plots of tlie
d;ty— from the imprisonment of Sir John Eliot,
to the late army plot— nothing was omitted that
told against Charles and his government.'

tb* klii( blnuair,
i publiahad all tho unnKBuble

1 oUter putlmlui U»t night diitarb Oa nLndxir tha

» Google

49+

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CmLA

1 UlUTART.

Sir Ralph Hopeton presented thid paper to the
kJDg at Hampton Court on the evening of the
lat of December. Charles, at the reading of it,
hesitated at the charges respecting a. malignant
party, and the desigu of altering religion, and
aaid, "The devil take him, whosoever he be, that
hath a design of that sort." He also stopped at
the reading of that part of the Bemonstrance
which gave the lands of the rebels in Ireland to
those who should auppreas the rebellion, and
said, "We muat not dispose of the bear's skin
till the bear be dead.' When the petition was
read, Charles asked several questions, but Hope-
ton told him that he had no power to speak to
anj'thing without the permissioQ of the commons.
"Dotb the house inland to publish this decUra-
tion)* said Charles. Again Hopeton said that
he could not answer.

On the following daj tlie king sent to the com-
mons his answer to the petition which accom-
panied the Bemonstrance. He told them that he
thought their dedaratioa or remonstrance an-
parliamentary; that he could not at all understand
what was meant hj a wicked and malignant
party 1 that the biahops were entitled to their
voles in parliament bj the laws of the kingdom,
and that their inordinate power was sufGciently
abridged by the taking away of the High Com-
mission Court ; that he would consider of a pro-
posal for the calling of a national synod, to ex-
amine church ceremonies, &c. ; that he was per-
suaded in hisconscience that the Church of Eng-
land proteased the true religion, with more purity
than any other; that its government and disci-
pline were more beautified and free from super-
stiljon ; and that, as for the removing of evil coua-
sellora, they must name who they were, bringing
a particular charge, and sufficient proofs, against
them, and forbearing their general aspersions.

Two Scotch commissioners came up to concert
measures with the English parliament for the
suppression of the Irish rebellion ; but they had

many tales both to tell and to hear, which liad
no reference to that business. On the 8th of D^
cember the commons debated upon certain pro-
positions about to be offered to his majesty by
the Irish rebels, who, as a preliminary, asked for
a fuU toleration of the Catholic religion ; and it
was reaolved, both by the lords and commons of
England, that they would never give oonsent to
any toleration of the Popish religion in Ireland,
or in any other of his majesty's dominions .'
During the debate a great stir was caused by the
report that a guard had been set near the parlia-
ment without their privity. Forthwith the com-
mons sent a sergeant-at-arms to bring the com-
mander of that guard to their bar. The ofBcer
said that the sheriff had received a writ to that
purpose, and that the soldiers bad a warrant
from the justices of the peace. The commons
immediately resolved that this was a dangerous
breach of the privileges of their house, and that
the guards shoald be discharged.

Six days aft«r (on the 14th of December), the
king spoke to botJi houses upon the business of
Ireland. He again complained of the slowness
of their proceedings, and recommended despatch.
These delays had in part arisen out of the com-
mons' jealousy of the royal prerogative of levying
troops. Charles spoke directly to this point, and
told them that he had taken notice of the bill
for pressing of soldiers, now debating among the
lords; and that in case the bill came to him in
such a shape as not to infringe or diminish his
prerogative, he would pass it as they chose.
"And, further," said he, "seeing there is a dis-
pute raised (I being little beholden to hini who-
soever at this time began it), concerning the
bounds of this ancient and undoubted preroga-
tive, to avoid further debate at this time, I offer
tliftt the bill may pass with a tatno Juie both for
king and people, leaving snch debates to a time
that may better bear them. It this be not ac-
cepted, the fault is not mine that this bill para

UltaakiDg— thaoo

[dhcIa] aggnodlBmi

— pnaentfllihmudlTfliu thna^rmndUBkA tobeuoompllBhodi
ud tb« autln moliiE^Da ni iwlTsd on. Tbe PrBb/Uilu
miOoiilj io parllamant, v mU m ont at doon,
iHciD Ihe work, tblnklni ths/ amid
aonHDtlnt Io lbs ■boUtlon oT E|)iK»iiiiiT,
obUluthii<»iuEii(,th«Td«' ' '

wtat » &r u Io HT thU It vh not n aj, that I

tb* jiirlliniFnl wH the law, ud Uut th* king miut
~ - - - "ad thoH who dufn

»bOT lO^l I

T«riotH fllsnnib^ nnlUd hlthsto igmlnft the littar HbuH. 1
Hpuita uhI diitribuU thamielTes, imd Umoifonb the kfni
tud H puiy molTeil on ^Bflrtlng for him, and «*«ii. If uei
mrs, on nrtoriDtt to him b; the tword, righu •
time e^ullj with thm of th( parllunant and th*

"When the king aufrirladat Ncpttlnchain hi* rajal ■
kn tokflb of a atiU hanghtj dlatTeet. the thli^-t

n CithollD I

•t oflhntof tlw

»Google

., 1641.1

CHABLES I.

495

not, but tbeira that refuse bo fair an offer."' Par- ]
liament took fire at this speech, and lords and i
eommona instantly joioed in a petition touching |
thf privileges of parliament, the birthright wirt
inheritance not only of themaelvea, but of the
whole kicgdom, They declared, with
all duty, that the king ought not to
take notice of any matter iu agitation
and debate in either house, except by
their information ; that he ought Dot
to propose any condition, provision, or
limitation to any bill iu debate or pre-
paration, nor express his consent or dis-
sent, approbation or dislike, until the
bill was presented to him in due course.
They complained that hia majesty had
broken those privileges in his speech,
particularly ia mentioning the bill of
irapress, in offering a provisional clause
before it waa presented, and in expres-
sing bis displeasure against such as
moved a question concerning the same; Hmpra:
and they desired to know the nnmea of
such persons as had seduced his majesty to that
item, that they might be pnniahed as bis gi-eat
council should advise. The parliament at first
resolved not to proceed with any busineiu! till
they had a satisfactory answer to their petition \
aiid, during their heat, hints were thrown out
that the Irish rebels were actually favoured by
some about the queen; "and divers went yet
higher." On the very next day (the ISth of De-
cember), the motion for printing the Remou-
strance, which had been lost on the 22d of No-
vember by a majority of twenty-thi-ee, was tri-
umphantly carried by 139 to 83. This sti-iking
paper, when distributed through the country, was
of mora effect than an army could have been.

Charles, moody and discoutented, withdrew
to Hampton Court' to prepare an answer to the
Remonstrance in the shape of a declaration. He
chose this very moment of doubt and suapiciou
for an attempt to get the Tower of Loudon into
his bands by changing the governor or lieutenant
Upon the SOth of December a report was made
to the vigilant commons that hia majesty inten-
ded to remove Sir William Balfour, the sturdy
lieut«nant who bad secured the Earl of Strafford
for them ; and they ordered that Sir William

should appear before them the very next day.
Balfour attended, and was examined touching
the causes of his removal; aft«r which the hoase
fell into debate about a petition to be presented
to his majesty for continuing him in his charge.

»Th»ongln»li»lKie

fH.

mpton Court wu > bridi building,

•Ith a (plmdoui wlilcJ

not U b» WD on thii •Ids of tbo

Alp.. llconUiMdSSO

Tblch wore ulonied with lilk ind

gold lumgUiKi. H»n.T

Vlll

UMtbMhalud bniltiteiinHlr

fcrhi.pk-ur.«»l«.

Lng. Of the orifiul iiplend

priDdpiJof tl..mi.lli.

>ou> h>U, fonDerlj wd » ■> h.n

<|iiMlii( room. HeiitD

«.r. i

hii llinrmr-i. givH ■ d»crii«ion

or W. Bt*3, VKi.

But on the following day Sir William reatgneil
the keys of the Tower to the king, who forthwith
appointed Colonel Lunsford, who took the oaths,
and entered upon the charge. The very day
after this appointment, the common couucilmen,
find others of the city of London, petitioned the
Ilouse of Commons against it, representing this
Colonel Lunsford as a man outlawed, most noto-
rious for outrages, and therefore fit for any des-
perate enterprise, and reminding the house that
they (the citizens) bad lately been put into fear
of some dangerous design from that citadel. The
commons demanded a conference with the lords,
and communicated to their loi-dships the petition
from the city, representing the unfitness of Luns-
ford for a place of such great trust, and desired
their lordsbipe to concur in a remoDstrance, and
in a prayer to the king to recommend Sir John
Conyers to be lieutenant, under the command of
that honoui'able person the Earl of Newport,
who was constable of the Tower, The lords de-
clined doing anything, upon which the commons
passed the following vote: — "B^iolved, nemine
contradiexnle, that this house holds Colonel Luus-
ford unfit to be, or continue, lieutenant of the
Tower, as being a person whom the commons of
England cannot confide in." When this was
done they sent to desire a second conference
with the peers. The managers of this confer-
ence, Mr. Hollis, Mr. Pym, Mi-. Strode, Sir Ed-
moud Montfoit, Mr. Glyiiiie, Sir Philip Staple-
ton, Mr. Martin, and Sir John Hobham, impor-
tuned their lordships to join in their petition for
removing Colonel Lunsford, alleging that they
already found the evil consequence of his being
lienteiiaut, inasmuch as mercluuits liad olready

»Google

496

HISTORY OF ENGLAKD.

[Civil akd Mi lit art.

withJrawn tlieir bullion out of the mint, &c
Still the lords refiuetl to join. That mcae even-
ing, being Ohristmaa Eve, the commons ordered
thnt Sir Tlioiuaa B&rrington ftnd Hr. Mutin
should that Di;;bt repair to the Enrl of Newport,
constable of the Tower, and desire him, in the
name of their house, to lodge and reside within
the citadel, and take the custody and entire care
of that place. The two members went, but the
Enrl of Newport was not to be found. The
second day after this, being Sunday, the 26th of
December, tbe lord mayor waited upon his ma-
• jesty to tell him that the appreuticea of London
were contemplating a rising, to carry the Tower
by stono, unless he should be pleased to remove
his new lieutenant. That same eTeuing Charles
took tbe keys from Colonel Luusford. On tbe
morrow Sir Thomas Barrington reported to the
commons that the Earl of Newport had been
with him on Sunday evening, to tell him that
tbe king had discharged him from tbe constable-
ship of the Tower. This earl, though very ac-
ceptable to the citizens, was odious to the king,
who, at this moment — this critical moment— had
a. violent altercation witli him, which was re-
ported to the House of Lords on the same Mon-
day morning.

All this day the houses of parliament were
surrounded by tumultuous multitudes — for it
was not yet publicly known that the king bad
removed Colonel Lunsford. The citizens who
had petitioned against that officer collected at
Westminster for an answer to that petition, and
the London apprentices were there also for an
answer to their petition. ' It was a Monday
morning, and they made of it a most noisy St.
Monday, crying ont, "Beware of plots! No
bishops! no bishops!" Old Bishop Williams
seems to have lost his coolness and circumspec-
tion with increase of age. On his way to the
House of Lords with the Earl of Dover, observ-
ing a youth crying out lustily against the bishops,
he stopped from the earl, rushed into the crowd,
and laid bauds upon tbe stripling. Thereupon

the citizens rescued the youth, and about a hun-
dred of them coming np so hemmed in the lord
bishop, that he could not stir; and then all of
them with a loud voice cried out "No bishops!"
The mob let old Williams go, apparently without
injuring him ; but one David Hide, a reformado
in the late army against the Scots, and now ap-
pointed to go upon some command into Ireland,
began to bustle and to say that he would cut the
throats of those round-beaded dogs' that bawled
against bishops. Nor did this David Hide stop
at threats, for he drew his sword, and allied
upon three or four others with him to second
him 1 but his comrades refused, and he was soon
disarmed by tbe citizens and carried before the
House of Commons, who first committed him,
and afterwards cashiered him. On the same
stormy Monday, Colonel Lunsford, the recently
dismissed lieutenant of tbe Tower, went through
Westminster Hat], with no fewer than thirty or
forty friends at his back. A fray ensued, the
colonel drew his sword, and some hurt was done
among the citizens and apprentioes. Presently
there came swarming down to WeBtminBt«r some
hundreds more of apprentices and others, with
swords, staves, and other weapons. The lorOs
sent ont the gentleman usher, to bid them depart
in the king's name. The people said that they
were willing to be gone, but durst not, becanae
Colonel Lunsford and other swordsmen in West-
minster Hall were lying in wait for them with
their swords drawn, and because some of them
tliat were going home through Westminstor Hall
had been slashed and wounded by those soldiers.
With great difficulty tbe lord mayor and sheriffii
appeased this tumult, which caused the loss o(
some blood, and which was the prelude to the
fiereer battles that soon followed between the
Roundheads and Cavaliers.

iltrllnte tlia origin of Uu toni
Hida:— "Wliich puilauta aiin
I omkl tm kun, wh tha flnl i
ipallitloa al RcaDdhwh i^iioli ■(>

,v Google

A.D. 1641—1642.]

CHAITER XIIL— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1641-1642.

Tlie bishopa protest agunst tbeic eicliuiou from pirliuaent— The]' declare the prooMdiuEs of the lorda nnll during
OieirabMnce— Theyirecoinmittod t« the Tower— The eomraoni petition the king for ■ Enua-He offen them
one of hia own chocung— He Kcuioi «ii Issdera of the commone of high treMon— He eomniaad* their »iT«»t—
"Is prepsrei, on the refum! of the houaa, to leoure them by force— Hie arrivnl in the honse for the purpose—
-Indignation at his iatmsion — He again attempte to eecure the meBiben ui
commons on the oscaaion — Voluntuy offers tendered for the pro-
alires with Lis family and court from London — He abandona hie
armed by reporte of military muatera- Their preparations tor do-
Froceedinga of both parties in the Irisii rebellion— The lukewarm-
Intercepted lettera produced before the conimons— Theii

He fiiida the accneed withdia

>f the

the oitj — ^Petition and
teetioD of the aocoeed msmbera— Cbarlei
praeecutioQ of the members— Parliamenl
f*nce— Symptome of approaching civil ws
iiecs of the lords denounced by tbe comi

tents produce alarm and remonstrance— The qneen departs from England— The commons demand the power
of the sword to be lodged in their own hands— They pass the Uititia bill to that effect— Charles refuses to
sanction il — The commons put the kingdom in a state of defence— They proclaim the Militia ordinance in
their own name— A Declaration agreed by the lordsand commons— Indignant remarks of Charles on receiving
it— His abrupt refusal to intmst the militia to parliameDl— Justiacatiou he deliren for hii proceedings— His
mnaage to the two lionaee— Their reeolntions in canseqnence— They transmit their jnttificatioD to the king
—Both parties attempt to secure jiotseseion of Hull— It is secured tor the commous— Intriguea of Charlei to
recover it— He is refused admittance into the town— The commons approve of tbe refunl— Seply of the king,
and his remonstrance— Counter-remonstrance of parliament— Charles forbids the muster of troopa without his
orders— The lientensnls of the connlies disregard liis prohibition— Gathering of the parliamentary army— The
English fleet inclined to the popular cause— Charles attempts to win the ScoU to hii party- They reject his
•dvanoee — The adherents of the king, and their proceedings — Dilemma occasioned by the aiiplication of
Charles for the great ssal- Oarendon'a acoonnt of its delivery— Freparations of Charles Is bwiege Hull-
Nine peers enlist themselves on the side of the king— They are imiieiched by tlie commons— rrpposals from
' Ji aeeommodation rejected bj' the king.

mH£ t]iirt«eu bishops impeached for
their ahnre iu the obnoxious can-
1 and Idiud'a last convocation,
had beeu admitted to bail, and,
alter a sliort time, lo their seats in
the HoDse of Lorda. Now, twelve
of them lirvw up a protest and petition to the
king, statiug, that they could not attend in their
places in parliament, where tlie; had a clear and
indubitable right to vote, becauae tltej hod seve-
ral times been violently menaced, affronted, and
Assaulted b; multitudes of people, and had lately
been chased away from the House of Lords, and
put in danger of their lives— for all which they
could find no redress or protection, though they
had lodged several complaints in both bouses.
"Therefore," continued the document, "they (the
biahops) do in all duty and humility protest be-
fore your majesty and the peers against all laws,
orders, votes, resolutions, and determinations, ss
in themselves null and of none effect, which in
their absence have already passed ; as likewise
ngainst all such as shall hereafter pass in the
House of Lords, during the time of this their
forced and violent absence," &c. To the surprise
of most men, the first signature to this protest
and petition was that of old Williams, who had
been translated to the archbiabopnc of York a

VOL-U.

very few days before. The other eleven bishops
that signed were Durham, Tichfield, Norwich, St.
Asaph, Bath and Wells, Hereford, Oxford. Ely,
Gloucester, Peterborough, and Llftndaffi If the
lords had acquiesced in the views of the peUlton-
ers, the Long Parliament might have been ended
now, in ho far at least as the upper house was
concerned, and the slur of illegality mi^t have
been cast upon all the acts that had been passed
during the last year in the frequent absence of
the lords spiritual. The move ou the port of the
court was a bold one; but the revolution was now
in progress, and, without even offering to provide
for the bishops' safety, so that they might come
ti} their house, or be accused of staying away
wilfully and voluntarily, the lords desired a con-
ference with the commons, and denounced the
petition and protest as highly criminal, and sub-
versive of the fundamental privileges and the
very being of parliament. The commons in-
stantly re-echoed the charge, accused these twelve
bishops of high treason, and sent Mr. Glynne to
the bar of the lords, to charge the prelates in the
name of the House of Commons, and to desire '
that they might be forthwith sequestered from
parliament and put into safe custody. " Ths
lords sent the black rod instantly to find ont these
biahopa and apprehend them; and by eig^t o'clock

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAXD.

at night they were all takpn, aod brought apon
tbeir knee* to the hat, and ten of them canmiit-
ted to the Tower; and two (in regard of their
a^, and indeed of the worth; parts of one of
them, the leaned Bishop of Dariiam) were com-
mitted to the black rod.'' Thns ten more pre-
late* were sent to join I^ad in hU captivity —
twelve votes were lost to the court partj in the
Honae of Lords.

On the last daj of this eventful year the com-
mons sent Mr. Deozil HoUis to the king, with
what they called an AAIreu to his majesty, pray-
ing for a guard, and an answer without delay.

DcHZIL HOLLU.— FniD a phut bj R Wblu.

HoUis told the king, by word of mouth, that the
Houte of Commons were ready to spend the last
drop of their blood for hie majesty, but that they
had great apprehensions and just fears of mis-
chievous designs to ruin and destroy them; that
there had been eeveral attempts made heretofore
to bring destruction upon their whole body at
once, and threats and menaces used against par-
ticular persons; that there was a malignant party
daily gathering strength and confidence, and now
coma to such a height as to imbrue their hands
in blood in the face and at the very doors of the
parliament; and that the same party at his ma-
jesty's own gates had given out insolent and
menacing speeches against the parliament itself.
And in tlie end HoUis informed him, that it was
the humble desire of the commons to have a
guard to protect them out of the city, and com-
manded by the Enrl of Essei, chamberlain of his
majesty's household, and equally faithful to his
majesty and the commonwealth. Charles desired
to have this message in writing: the paper was
sent to him armrdinglv, and he replied to it, not

withont delay, as the commons had requested, or
enjoined, but three days after. In the interval
the commons had ordervd that halberts sbonld
be provided and broogbt into the house for their
own better security. The halberts were bronght
in accordingly, and Itnshworth informs us that
they stood in the honae for a considerable time
afterwards. Then, nnderstanding that the lords
would not sit on the morrow, which was New
Year's Day, they adjourned till Monday, the 3d
of January, resolving, however, that they should
meet on the morrow, in a grand committee at
Guildhall, leaving another committee at West-
minster, to receive his majesty's answer to their
petition, if it should come in the meantime.*

On the 3d of January the commons, meeting
to their nsual place, received the king's tardy
and onaatisfactory answer to their petition for
a guard. Cliarlea expressed his great grief of
heart at finding, after a whole year's sitting of
this parliament, that there should be such jea-
lousies, diatrusts, and feats; he protested hia ig-
norance of the grounds of their apprehension, and
he offered to appoint them a guard if they should
continue to think one necessary. A guard of the
king's appointing was precisely the thing that the
commons did not want. While they were de-
bating upon the raeaaage they received a commu-
nication from the lords, the efiect of which waa
galvanic. That morning Herbert, the king's
attorney, was admitted into the House of Lords
at the requeet of the lord-keeper, and approMch-
ing the clerks' table {not Ih^ bar),* Herbert said
that the king had commanded him to tell their
lordships that divers great and treasonable de-
signs and practices, against him and the state,
had come to his majesty's knowledge. " For
which," continued Herbert, "his majesty hath
given me command, in his name, to accuse, and
I do accuse, by delivering unto your lordships
these articles in writing, which I received of his
majesty, the six persons therein named of high
treason, the heads of which treason are contained
ill th^said articles, which I desire may be read.*
The lords took the articles, and commanded the
reading of them. They were entitled "Articles
of high treason, and other high misdemeanours,
against the Lord Kimbolton, Mr, Dentil HoUis,
Sir Arthur Hazlerig, Mr. John Pym, Mr. John
Hampden, and Mr. William Strode." The sev-
enth, and the last and moat signifiouit article.

iienllr aisrJookid,

nrnaj iLQd lolleltor-taiiiini] an legdlr nnwJJcn

»Google

A.D. 1641—1642.] CHAH

Affirmed "that they h&ve traitorously conspired
to levy, kud ectutJIy have levied ww ogainst the
king." Lord Kimbolton, nho was iu his aeat,
stood up, and expressed his readiuesa to meet
the charge, offering to obey whatever the house
should order. None of the courtiers hnd courage
to move his arrest as a traitor. The lords vrav-
ered, stood still, and then appointed a committee,
consisting of the lord-stewai*d, and the Earls of
Ktsei, Beth, Southampton, Warwick, Bristol,
and Holliuid, to consider precedents and records
touching the reguliirttj of this accusation, and
10 discover whether such an accusation might be
brought by the king's attorney into their house
against a peer, &c. Thus they avoided commit-
ting themselves, gained time, and no doubt made
sure that the commons, whom they warned by
message, would take the affair upon themselves.'
And nearly at the same moment that their mes-
sage was delivered in the lower house, informa-
tion was also cairied thither that several ofUcera
were sealing up the dooTs, trunks, and papera of
Hampden, Pym, and the other accused members.
Upon which the commons instantly voted, "That
if any person whatsoever shall come to the lodg-
ings of any member of this house, and offer to
seal the trunks, doors, or papers of any of them,
or seize upon their persons, such member sliall
require the aid of the constable to keep such per-
sons in safe custody till this house do give fur-
ther order; and that if any person whatsoever
shall offer to arrest or detain the person of any
member withoutSrst acquainting this house, it is
lawful for such member, or any person, to assist
him, and to stand upon his or their guard of de-
fence, and to make a reeiatance, according to the
protestation taken to defend the privileges of
parliament."* They also ordered that the ser-
jeant-at-arms attending their house shouhl pro-
ceed and break open the seals set upon the doors,
papers, &e., of Mr. Hampden and the rest; and
that the speaker should sign a warrant for the
apprehension of those who had done the deed.
The house then desired an immediate conference
with the lords; but before thej could receive an
answer, they were told that a serjeant-at-arms
was at their door, with a message to deliver from
his majesty to their speaker. Forthwith they
called in tlie said serjeant to the bar, making him,
howevei^ leave his mace behind him. " I am
commanded by the king's majesty, my master,"
said the Serjeant, "upon my allegiance, to require
(if Mr. Speaker five gentlemen, members of tho

■ Fart. H!M. CUmndon h/i. " Th
»bit atV^Usd at thji ulsmm. btU Co
till tbs ncrt diT, thst Oaj might h

ubalulfofUwklDg.'

House of Commons; and those gentlemen being
delivered, I am commanded to arrest them, in his
majesty's name, of high treason: their names are
Deuzil Hollis, Arthur Hazlerig, John Fym, John
Hampden, and William Strode.' When he had
delivered this message the house commanded him

withdraw, and sent Lord Falkland, and three
other membets, to acquaint hia majesty that the
matter was of great consequence, and that the
House of Commons would take it into their se-
rious consideration, holding the members ready
to answer any legal charge made against them.

All this was on the 3d of January. "The
ne«t day after that the king had answered the
petition of the house (about the guard), being
the 4th of January, 164S," says May, "he gave,
unhappily, a just occasion for all men to think
that their fearsand jealousies were not causeless."
He spent the preceding evening in making pr^
parations. Arms were removed from the Tower

Whitehall, where a table was spread in the
palace for a band of rash young men, who were
ready to proceed to extremities for the re-estab-
lisfament ot royalty in its pristine state. Charles
had determined to charge the five members with
private meetings and treasonable correspondence
with the Scots (a case met and provided for by
the amnesty whiuh had been procured both in
Si^otland and England), and with countenancing
the late tumults from the city of London ; and
ow resolved to go in person to seize the five
members of the House of Commons. On the
morning of the 4th the five accused members
attended in their places, as they had been ordered.
Lord Falkland stated, that he was desired to in-
form the house that the serjeant-at-arms had
done nothing the preceding day but what he bad
it in command to do. Then Hampden rose, and
powerfully repelled the vague aecusationa which
had been brought against them hy the king. If
to be resolute in the defence of parliameut, the
liberties of the subject, the Beformed religion,
was to be a traitor, then he acknowledged he
might be guiltv of treason, but not otherwise.
Hazlerig followed Hamjideu. The house being
informed that it was Sir William Fleming and
Sir William Killigrew, with others, who had
sealed np the studies and papers of the five mem-
bers, ordered that they should be forthwith ap-
prehended, and kept in the custotiy of the ser-
jeaul^at-arma till further notice. They also voted
that a conference should be desired with the
lords, to acquaint them of a teandaloiu paptr,
published with articles of high treason, agunst
their five niemtiers, and the Ejord Kimbolton, a
peer. The house rose at the usual dinner-hour,
but met again immediately after. They had
scarcely taken their seats when intelligence was
brought by Captain I^ugrish, who bad passed

»Google

500

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cmi.A

) MlLIT&RT.

the party Id the atreela, that the king was ad-
vancing towards WeslmiuBter Hall, guarded by
hia geDtlemen pensionent, and followed by some
huodreda of courtiers, officers, and soldiera of
fortune, moat of them armed with sworda and
pistols. The house was bound by ita receut and
Bolemn protestation to protect ita privileges and
the persons of its members ; there were halbertit
and probably otlier arma at hand ; but could they
defend their members against this array, led on
by the king in perxou? Would it be wise, on
any grounds, to make the aacred incloaures of
parliament a sceueof war and bloodshed* They
ordered the five members to withdraw ; " to the
end," says Ruahwortb, " to avoid combustion in
the house, if the aaid soldiers should use violence
to pull any of them out." Four of tlie members
yielded ready obedience to this prudeut order,
but Mr. Stroile insisted upon staying and facing
the king, and waa obstinate till his old friend
Sir Walter Earle pulled him out by force, the
king being at that time enterii>g into New Palace-
yard, aud almost at the door of the house. Aa
Charles passed through Westminster Hall to the

<■ rxoii v/cmttsaai H*ll n

entrance of the House of Commons, the officers,
reformados, &c., thnt attended hiui made a lane
on both sides the hall, reaching to the door of
the commons. He knocked hastily, and the door
was opened to him. Leaving his armed Imnd at

h bi J. W. 1

the door and in the hall, be entered tlie house,
with hia nephew Charles, the Prince- palatine
of the Rhine, at his aide. He glanced bin eyes
towards the place where Pym usually aat, and
then walked directly to the cluir, saying, " By
your leave, Mr. Speaker, I must borrow your
chair a little." Lenthall, the speaker, dropped
upou his knee, and Cliarles took his eeat; the
mace was removed ; the whole house Htood up
uncovered. Charles cast searching glances among
them, but he could nowhere see any of the five
raembei-B. He then sat down aud addressed them
with much agitation: — "Gentlemen," said he, "I
am sorry for this occasion of coming unto you:
yesterday I aent a serjeant-at-arms upon a very
importAut occasion, to apprehend some thatupon
ray commandment were accused of high treason,
whereuuto I did expect ol>edieaee, and not a
message; and I must declare unto yon here, that,
albeit no king that ever waa in England shall be
more careful of your privileges, to maiiitajii them
to the utmost of his power, than 1 shall lie ; yet
you must know, that in cases of treason no per-
son hath a privilege, and therefoi-e I am come lo
know if any of those persons that I have accused,
for no slight crime, but for treason, are here.
I cannot expect that this house can be in the
right way that I do heartily wish it, therefore I
am come to tell you, that I miiat have them
wheresoever I find them." Then be again looked
round the houae, and said to the speaker, now
standing below the chair, "Areanyof those per-
sons in the house) Do you see any of them)
Where are tbey r Lenthall fell on his knees,
and told bis majesty that he bad neither eyea to
see, nor tongue to speak in that place, but as the
houae was pleased to direct him. Then again
casting his eyes round about the hoDse, Cbaries
said, " Well, since I see all the birds are flown, I
do eipect from you, that you do send them to me,
aa soon aa they return hither. ButlasBDre yon,
on the word of a king, I never did intend any
force, but shall proceed against them in a legal
and fair way, for I never meant any other.
And now, since T see I cannot do what I came
for, I think this no unfit occasion to repeat
what I have aaid formerly ; that whatsoever I
have done in favour, and to the good of my sub-
jects, I do mean to nisintain it. 1 will trouble
you no more, but tell you I do eijrect, aa soon tui
they come to the houae, you will send them lo
me; otherwise I must take my own course to
find them." With these words the disappointed
king rose and retired amidst loud ci'ies of "Privi-
lege! privilege!"— and the house instantly ad-
journed.'

Tlmt night the eily waa a gayer place than llie
court. Early on the following morning the corn-

it H<ni

tutwrlt.- Il^>r(l«i'.

,v Google

A.D. 1641—1642] CHAR

inotu, safe in "that migbty heart," sent Mr.
Elennes with a measage to the lorda, to give them
notice of " the king's coming yesterday," nod to
repeat their desires that their lordahipe woaii\

QviLDBALL, LoHiwTr. — From mn old Tiow In thn Crowle P«Di

joia with them in a petition foraguard to secure
them, and also to let them know that they were
sitting at Otiildhall, and had appointed the com-
mittee for the pressing Irish nfCkirs to meet there.
The commons then appointed that a permanent
committee should sit at Ouildhali, in the city of
London, with power to consider and resolve of
all things that might concern the good and safety
of the city; and thereupon adjourned till Tues-
day, the 11th of January, at one in the after-
noon. In the meantime Charles had sent orders
to stop the sea-ports, as if the five members could
be scared into a flight. On
the morning, after a night of
painful doubt and debate,
Cliarles set olf to the city in
person, with his usual atten-
dants, but without any re-
formados or braves. On his
way he was saluted witli cries
of " Privileges of parliament !
privileges of parliament !"
and one Henty Walker, an
ironmonger and pamphlet -
writer, threw into his ma-
jesty's coach a (mper whereon
was written, " To your tents,
O Israel,"' The common
council hail assembled at

Guildhall, and they met the „ .

king as he went np to that
building almost alone. Concealing his ill-hu-
mour, and bin irritation against the citizens,

I Jt»Aiutrr*, Th« panphleUar wu comiiilttsd, nid *fl<r-

LES I. 50]

he thus addressed them:— "Gentlemen, I am
come to demand such peraoQs as I have already
accused of high treason, and do believe are
shrouded in the city. I hope no good man will
keep tbem from me ; their
offences are treasons and, mis-
demeanours of a high nature.
I desire your loving assist-
ance herein, that they may
be brought to a legal trial.
And whereas there are divers
suspicions raised that I am a
favourer of the Popish reli-
gion, I do profess in the name
of a king, that I di<1, and ever
will, and that to the utmost
of my power, be a prosecut^ir
of all such as shall any ways
oppose the laws and statutes
of this kingdom, either Pa-
pists or Separatists ; and not
int, Britbib Mnwuni. only BO, but I will malnt&in
and defend that true Protes-
tant religion which my father did profess, and I
will continue it during my life." This concilia-
tory speech produced little or no effect ; Charles
did not get the five members, but he got a very
good dinner at the house of one of the sheriffs,
and after dinner returned to Whitehall without
interruption or tumult.

The lords, on reeeivingthe commons' message,
had also adjourned to the 11th of January, The
permanent committee, which sat sometimes at
Gnildhnll, sometimes at Grocers'-hall, proceeded
actively in drawing up a declaration toncbing his

LoHHW. Boutb Vim,— Fbmh »Uill»nd'» London,

majesty's intrusive visit to their bouse ; and thie
occupied them till the 9th of January, many wit-
nesses being examined lo prove the words, actions.

»Google

502

HtSTORY OF ENGLAND.

[ClIlL AMD Ml LI

(ud gestures of that nrray of men who had fol-
lowed hia majesty And stood near the door of the
House of CommooH. Papers nad records were also
Bent for. It was reported fo them, that on the 4th
of January the lieutenant of the Tower had per-
mitted 100 etand of arms, two barrele of powder,
and match and shot proportionate, to go out of
the Tower tu Whitehall ; and the committee, ,H|jon
eianiination, fouud this report to be true. The
common council, who went hand in hand' with
the committee, drew up a petition to the king,
represMitiiig the (jreat dangers, fears, and dis-
tractions of the city, by reason of the prevailing
progress of the bloody rebels in Ireland; the
dangerous putting out of persons of honour and
trust from being constable and lieutenant of the
Tower; the fortifying of Whitehall; the wound-
ing of unarmed citizens in Westmiuater Halt ;
the strange visit paid to the House of Commons
by hia mBJesty, &c.; and in tlie end, the peti-
tioDers prayed his sacred majesty to give up his
intention of arresting the Lord Kimbulton and
the five members, and not to proceed against
theu otherwise tliau according to the privileges
of parliament, diaries, in his answer to this
petition, justified liis late proceedings. At the
same time he published a proclamation, charg-
ing the Lord Kimbolton and the five members
with high treason, and commanding the magis-
trates to apprehend them, and carry them to the
Tower, Forthwith many marinera and seamen
went to the committee with a petition signed by
1000 hands, tendering their services, and offer-
ing to escort the committee by water to West-
minster on the appointed day. The committer
accepteil their offer, and ordered them to provide
such artillery as was necessary, and to take care
that nit great guns and muskets in their vessels
should be cleaved before hand, to the end that
there miglU he no ahootiitg that dtty, except in case
of great ne'^eitity. When the sailors were gone,
the London apprentices flocked in great num-
bers to the committee, aud offered their services
BR guards for the journey from the city back to
Westminster. Serjeant Wild gave the appren-
tices thanks for their affection and willingness
to serve the jiarlianient, but told them that they
were already provided with a sufficient guard.
On the Momhiy following the committee declared
.Knf »i.o proclamation of treason was a great
o Ids nmjesty and his government— a
act, manifestly tending to the subver-
he ))eace of the kingdom, and to the
id dishonour of the accnsed members,
horn there was no legal charge or ac-
whatever.'

■ afternoon of tlie same day, Cliarles,
!|ueen, hi<i children, and the whole court.

left Whitehall and went to Hampton Oonrt. He
never entered London again until he came aa a
helpless prisoner, whose destinies were in the
iron band of Oliver Cromwell. On the morrow
afternoon the committee, together with the Lord
Kimbolton and the five accused members, took
water at the Three Cmnes, attended by thirty or
forty long boats with guns and flags, and by a
vast number of citizens and seanien in other
boats and barges; and thus they proceei led tri-
umphantly to their old port at Westminster, some
of the train-bands marching at the same lirne by
land, to be a guard to the two Houses of Parlia-
ment, The next day they received a very humble
message from Hampton Court — " Hia majesty,
taking notice tliat some conceive it disputable
whether his proceedings against the Lord Kim-
bolton, Mr. HoIUb, SirArthur Haalerig, Mr, Pym,
Mr. Hampden, and Mr. Strode, be legal and
agreeable to the privileges of parliament, and
being very desirous to give satisfaction to all meu
in all matters that may seem to have relation to
privilege, is pleased to waive hi* former proceed-
ings; and all doubta by this means being settled,
when the minds of meu are composed, his ma-
jesty wiil proceed thereupon in an unquestionable
way, and assures his parliament that upon al)
occasions he will be as careful of their privileges
as of his life or his crown," On the same day
"divers knights, gentlemen, and frwholdera of
the (onnty of Bucks, to the number of about 4000,
as they were compnted, came to London, riding
every one with a printed copy of the protestation
lately taken in his hat."' These countrymen of
Hampden presented a petition, not to the House
of Commons, but to the House of Peers, praying
them to co-operate with the lower house in per-
fecting the great work of reformation. At the
same time, these Bnckiughamshire petitioners,
who received the thanks of both houses, acfjuain-
t«d the commons that they bad another peti-
tion which they wished to present to his majesty
on behalf of their loyal countryman, neighbour,
and member, Mr. John Hampden, in whom they
had ever found good cause (o confide. They asked
the commons which would be the best way of
delivering this petition; and the commons selec-
ted six or eight of their meml>ers to wait upon
his majesty with it. These members accordingly
went to Hampton Court; but Charles was not
there, having gone on to Wimlsor Castle. The
members followed him to Windsor, and preaenteil
the pajicr, which told him that the m.ilice which
Hampden's zeal for bis majesty's service and the
service of the state had eicited in the enemies of
king, church, and commonwealth, had occasioned
this foul accusation of their friend. Cliarles in-
stantly repeated his determination of waix-ing

»Google

A.D. l&ll— 1642] , CHAB

tlie accusation. And yet tbU was not done veiy
clearly or very graciously.

On the 12th of January, the day after Char-
lea's departure from Whitehall, information vas
brought to the House of Commons that the Lord
Digby and Colonel Luusford, with other dis-
banded otQcera and reformadoe, were gathering
some troops of horse at Kingston-upon-Thaines.
The alanu was the greater, because the magasine
of arms for that part of Surrey was at Kingston.
The lords and commons ordered the sheri& and
justices of peace to suppress the gathering with
the train-bands and secure the magazine. The
like orders were soon sent into every part of the
kingdom ; and nearly everywhere they were
readily obeyed. Lord Digby escaped and fled bft-
yond sea; Colonel Lnnsford was talceu and safely
lodged in the Tower. On the same day (the l£th
of January) the lord-steward reported to the lords
that his majesty would command the lord-mayor
to appoint 200 men ont of the tr^n-bands of the
cltj to wait on the two houses, under Um com-
mand of the Earl of Landaay. The House of
Commons, without regarding this message, called
up two companies of the train-bauds of the city
and suburbs, and placed them under the com-
mand of Sergeant-major Skippou. They also
ordered, in conjunction with the lords, that the
Earl of Newport, master of the ordnance, and
the lieutenant of the Tower, should not sufTcrany
Arms or ammunition to be removed without their
express orders; and that, for the better safeguard
of the Tower, the sherifTs of London and Middle-
sex should appoint a sufficient guard to watch
that fortress both by laud and water. Their
minds, indeed, were now almost wholly occupied
by the thoughts of aiaenals, arms, and ammuni-
tion. A committee was appointed to attend espe-
cially to the best means of putting the kingdoi
in a posture of defence. The membeta of this
committee were Mr, Pierpoint, Sir Kichard Carr,
Mr. Hollis, Mr. Olynne, Sir Philip Stapleton, Sir
Henry Vane, the chancellor of the exchequer,
and the Solicitor-general St John.

It was now apparent to most msn that the
kingdom was about to blaze with the long'«on-
ceived flame of civil war.' The Scottish commis-
sioners, raised into vast importance by their skil-
ful management of affairs, chose thb moment to
offer their mediation between the king and his
English parliament. On the 19th of January,
Charles, in a letter from Windsor, let the Scot-
tish commissioners know that he had expected,
before they should have intermeddled, that they
would have acquainted him with their resolution
in privat«; and that he trusted that, for the time
coming, they would uo way engage themselves in
these private differencet, without flrat

' Hn. ilutdilDK«'> iltm

eating tlieir intentions to him in private. He
also wrote to the Earl of lanark, now secretary
for Scotland, to whom he bitterly complained of
) pursued by the commissioners in med-
dling and ofiering to mediate betwixt him and
his English parliament. The House of Commooa,
, received the offer of mediation i& a
very different manner. On the day after it was
presented they ordered Sir Philip Stapleton to
return thanks to the Scottish commissioners, as-
suring them that what they had done was very
acceptable to the house, who would continue their
re to remove the present distractions, as also
confirm and preserve the union between the
•o nations. A few days after this the commls-
iners concluded an arrangement for the send-
ing of 2G00 men of the Scotch army into Ireland,
to make head against the rebellion, which now
threatened the entire loea of that country.

The lords joined the commons in petitioning
the king to proceed with the impeachment of
Lord Kimbolton and the five members. Charles
again offered a free pardon. With this the two
houses would not rest satisfied; and they both
demanded jnstice against the informers on whose
testimony his majesty had acted. On the SOth
of January, the king, by message, desired the
parliament to digest and condense into one body
all the grievances of the kingdom, promising his
favourable assent to those means which should
be found most effectual for redress; but the com-
mons scarcely heeded this message, knowing at
the moment that Charles had already sent Lord
Digby abroad in search of foreign assistance,
Charles's conduct with regard to the Irish rebels
also excited their discontent and vehement suspi-
cions. When the rebellion broke out, he had
delayed his royal proclamation against the insur-
gents for three months, and when it was issued
at last, only forty copies were printed.

The Irish insurgents, or rebels, had styled
themselves the queen's army, and professed that
the cause of their rising was to maintain the
king's prerogative and the queen's religion against
the Puritan parliament of England. There was
also observed on the part of Charles a backward-
ness Xa send over assistance to the Protestant
party in Ireland, who were as much Puritans as
his English subjects, and a forwardness to expe-
dite men who were notorious for their attach-
ment to the old Roman church. Great numbers
of Papists, both English and Irish, some of whom
had served the king in his unlucky campaigns
against the Scottish Covenanters, went out of
England immediately before or shortly after the
insurrection and joined their co-ret igionists in
arms; others remaining in England prepared, or
were said to be preparing arms, ammunition,
money, com, and other victual for the ai

,v Google

501

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil *nd MilitabT.

and encouragement of the Iriab. On the S9lh of
January, the lords and commoiu issued strict
orders to the sherifia, justices of peace, &c., to
staj and prevent these periloua ent«rprisee. The
commons had found it neceeaatj to apply to the
citj for a, loan of .£100,000 for the service in Ire-
laud i and the petitions poured in from the city
of l^ndon, from the counties of Essex and Hert-
ford, and from the knights, gentlemen, ministers,
and others, of various other couoties. These
papers were full of a, boiling patriotism and fiery
fanaticism — they deplored the destruction of the
properties, lives, and religion of Englishmen in
Ireland ; and they proposed, as the proper means
of ending rebellion, cruelty, and massacre in Ire-
land, the execntion in England of all Catholic
priests, Jesuits, &c., f«^ti^^^ condemned; and they
further denounced the ill-afiected persons about
court, and the bisliops and Popish lords in the
House of Peers who were hindering, by their
votes, the effectual nnd speedy cure of all our
atat« evils. ■

Upon these remarkable petitions the commons
desired a conference with the lords, and appointed
Pym to manage it. Tbe lower honse had been
for some time apprehensive of a falling-off on the
part of the upper house. Pym now flatly told
their lordships that thej must either join tbe
commons in the cure of this epidemical disease,
whereof the commonwealth lay gasping, or be
content to see the commons do without them.
The House of Conimoiu forthwith ordered that
the speaker, in the name of all, should give
thanks to Mr. Pym for his able performance of
the service in which he had been employed; and
tbey further desired that Mr. Pym would deliver
in writing to the house the bold speech he had
made at this conference, in order that it might
be printed.'

From this day the gauntlet was thrown down
to the peers, the overthrow of the upper house
became a. familiar idea with a gi'eat part of the
nation, and tbe movement of reform wua changed
into the march of revolution.

A few days after Lord Digbj's escape, a packet,
addressed by his lordsliip to his brother-in-law,
Sir Lewis Dives, was intercepted and read in the
House of Commons.' A letter for the queen in-
closed in the packet was opened and read with
just aa little ceremony. In tbe letter Digby said
— " If the king betake himself to a safe pb
where he may avow and protect bia servants (fr
rage I mean, and violence, for from justice I will

* AdDDTdliig to CluMddi. Dlfb/V IstUr ww bimsht ta
loim cf ComiDoiu bj tiwlTfl*oh«Tof tbapmoii to wbcav
. vu InlJiutal lor amnjuicB. We Itun tnra Riuhwnith
Imt, bsddn writlnj to DlTot, Dighj iln .robi la SunUrji

r implore it), I shall then live in impatieuoe
and misery till I wait upon you. But If, after
all he batb done of late, he shall betake himself
to the easiest and complianteet ways of accom-
modation, I am confident that then I shall serve
him more by my absence than by all my industry.*
At tbe very opening of this letter waa an offer to
correspond with the queen in ciphers, and to do
service abroad, for which the king's instructions
wer« desired. The commons werb natnrally
thrown into a great heat by tbe strain in which
their proceedings were now spoken of by one
who, like Strafford, had formerly been among the
most zealous aaaertors of popular rights. Tliey
appointed a committee to consider the intercepted
letters, and with little loss of time, both houses
joined in a strong representatiou to his most gra-
cious majesty. At the end of this paper the lords
and commons said — " We most earnestly beseech
your majesty to persuade the queen that she will
not vouchsafe any countenance to or correspond-
ence with the Lord Digby, or any other tbe
fugitives or traitors, whose offences now depend
under the examination and judgment of parlia-
ment; which, we assure ourselves, will be verj-
effectual to further the removal of all jealousies
and discontents betwixt your majesty and your
people, and the settling the great affairs of your
majesty and the kingdom in an assured state and
condition of honour, safety, and prosperity."

This was worse than gall and wormwood to
the court. Nor did the parliament stop here ; a
committee of the commons drew up a chaT;ge of
high treason against Lord Digby. Henrietta.
Maria, who never was the heroine tlint some
have delighted to picture her, who in no particu-
lar of her life showed any high-niiudedness, was
terrified almost out of her senses by the notion
that tbe commons meant to impeach her; and
self-preservation, and wounded pride, and an in-
definite hope of doing great things against thv
parliament of England among the absolute princes
on the Continent, all prompted her tu be gone.
Both houses intimated to her, through tbe Earl of
Newport and the Lord Seymour, that there was
no ground for the fears they were aware she en-
tertained of the intention of the commons to ac-
cuse her of high treason. But there was now an
excellent pretext for Henrietta Maria's departure.
In the midst of this unhappy turmoil with his
parliament, Charles had married his daughter
Mary to the young Prince of Omnge, and it
seemed proper and expedient that the young
lady should be conducted by her mother to her
betrothed husband. The king readily entered
into the scheme of this journey, but it was neces-
sary to obtain the consent of parliament. Ho
therefore acqnainted both houses with tbe mat-
ter; and, as neither of them raised any very

»Google

A.D. 1611-1013.] CHAR

strODg opposition, Uie royal p&rtj got ready for
the coast, Charles resolving to accompany theu
na for as Dover. The plate of the queen's cham-
ber was melted down for the expensea of the
jODToey, and the whole of the crown jewels were
secretly packed up to be converted on the other
ude of the water into arms and gunpowder. On
the 9th of February, Charles, with his wife and
children, came back fi'om Windsor to Hampton
Court ; on the 10th he proceeded to Greenwich ;
on the morrow to Rochester, Siod ao by slow etagee
to Dover, where the queen and princess embarked
for Holland on t&e 23d of Febru&ry.'

While he was yet at Canterbury, and his wife
with him, Charles's assent was demanded to two
bills which the commons had got carried throngh
the lords; the one was to take away the votes
of the bishops in parliament, and to remove them
and all others in holy orders From all temporal
jurisdiction and offices whatsoever; the other for
pressing of soldiers for the service of Ireland.
Charles passed the two bills, and, in a message
to both houses, said he felt assured that bis so
doing (the bill about the biahope he had formerly
declared he would die rather thiui pass) would
convince them that he desired nothing more than
the satisfaction of his kingdom. But of the
bishops, whose political existence was anDihil-
ated by the passing of the first of these two acta
— of Laud, who lay in the Tower uncertain of his
fate — Charics breathed not a syllabls. And, from
hia promptness in passing the bill, and his un-
murmuring silence upon it, all thinking men con-
cluded that he was acting with mental reserva-
tion, and with the determined purpose of declar-
ing that bill and others null and void, and his
consent as a painful but necessary sacri See to the
present violence and strength of the parliament,
aa soon as ever he should be in a condition to do
ao. The lords and commons, however, professed
to acknowledge, with much joy and thankfulness,
hia majesty's grace and favonr in giving his royal
assent to these two bills. On the next day the
House of Commons suggested new modes of rais-
ing money for the reduction of Ireland, grandly
propoeing to apply to that purpose a million of
money — the first time, we believe, that so large
a sum was ever mentioned in a. parliamentary
estimate. Oo the 17th of February they went
into committee on a bill for the suppressing of
innovations in the church, for the abolishing of
superstitious and scandalous miuistei-s, and all
idolatrous practices, for the better observance of
the Lord's-day called Sunday, and for the settling
of preaching and preachers.

But there was another bill which the commons
had at heart, and which Charles was resolute not
to pass, wisbinft, however, it shouhi seem, t<

IjE3 I, 505

the queen safely out of the country before he
shonld declare this resolution. The commons
felt that they could never be safe until they had
the whole power of the sword in their own hands.
It was undeniably Charles's attempt to seize the
five members, which induced them to insist per-
emptorily upon vesting the command of the
militia in officers of their owu choice and nomin-
ation. There had been a strong tendency this
way before: for example, on the 5tb of May,
1641, upon the discovery of Percy's and Jer-
myn'a conspiracy to ride over the parliament
with the army of the north, an order was made
that the members of each county, &&, should
meet to oousider in what state the places for
which they served were in respect of arms and
ammunition, and whether the deputy-tie utenante
and lord- lieutenants were persons well affected
to religion and the public peace, &c.* On the
7th of December, 1611, when the storm was
thickening and the whole atmosphere overcast
by the horrors from Irehmd, Hazlerig brought
in a bill for appointing certain persons, whose
names were left in blank, to the offices of lords-
general of all the forces within England and
Wales, and Lord-admiral of England. The bill,
however, was laid aside, and a new plan devised,
it being ordered, on the Slst of December, that
the house should resolve itself into a committee
on Monday next, to take into consideration the
militia of the kingdom. That Monday— that
black Monday — was the day on which Charles
sent hia first message by the Attomey-genemI
Herbert about Lord Kimbolton and the five
members. On January the 13th, of the present
year, 1642, the second day after the triumphant
return of the commons from the city, a declara-
tion, as we have mentioned, was passed for pro-
viding for the defence of the kingdom, by which
oil officers, magistrates, &c., were enjoined to take
care that no soldiers should be raised, nor any
castles or arms given up without his majesty's
pleasure tignijied to both Haiittt of Parliamtnt.
The lords at first refused to concur in this de-
claration;* but, when the danger thickened, their
lordships changed their minds, and only a few
days after their refusal (on February the 16th),
they resolved to go along with the other houae.
This ordinance concerning the militia, however,
had not even been carried through the lower
house without opposition ; for white the majority

Vou II.

I JCurtmrtA.' ilafi (

Tlina pntolitig p«n warn Emti. Warwick. Pembroka, Hoi-
Und. StimlOrd, BadBird, LeisaMei, CUn, LinoDln, Bumn,
BollDgbioks, Fat*rbD«iii«h, TtuiuM, Nattlofhini, SajandSsIa,
Caqwiji, Paget, Kluboltun, Bnmka, Robarta, North, Whaiton,
Bt John, Hpaiuar, Nawahuu, WLlloDfhbj. Bnua. Diurtt,
Howud da £anlck, Bnj da Wark, Chuidoi^ Hnnadon.

170

,v Google

509

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CiTIL AND UnJTABT.

■naintaiiied that the power of the miltdawas not
in the king but solely io the parliament, the min'
ority inaiBted th&t tie power of the militia waa
solely in the king, that it ought to be left to him,
and that the parliament never did or ought to
meddlu with it. Whitelock gave it aa hia humUe
opinion that the power of the militia was neither
in the king alone nor ia the parliament alone;
hut if anywhere in the eye of the law, it was in
the king and parliament both eonaenting together.
In fact, the entire buunesi was now in such a
state that the appeal to the sword was inevitable,
and, cooatitutionally or unconstitudonally, par-
liament determined not to resign the command
of troope who might be on the very morrow em-
ployed against them. They therefore resolved
to place the command of the sword in the bands
of those whom tbey could both trust and control,
and they nominated in their bill the lords-liea-
tenants of all the counties, who were to obey the
orders of the two Houses of Parliament, and to
b« irremoveable by the king for two yeara. This
was an open death-blow to the pren^ative, but
it is difficult to conceive by what other fence the
membeis of that parliament could have secured
their existence, or guaranteed for a week the
many great and many good things they had ob-
tained for the nation.'

The Uilitia bill was tendered to Charles on the
igth or 2Dth of February; he was then on the
Eentiah coast, and the queen had not yet got off.
On the 21st the Lord Stamford reported to the
House of Peers the king's answer to thdr peti-
tion respecting the ordering of the militia of the
kingdom, which was, that this being a business
of tbe highest importance, not only for the king-
dom in general, but also for his majesty's regal
authority, he thought it most necessary to take
some time to advise thereupon, and that therft-
fore he could not promise a positive answer until
he should return, which he intended to do as soon
as he should have put his dearest consort; the
queen, and his dear daughter the Princess Mary,
on boBid. When this message was brought down
to the commons, though it fell far short of an
absolute refusal (and that, we believe, solely be-
cause the queeu was not safely off), it excited
great discontent, and led to the immediate dtsw-
ing op of another petition more energetic than
its predecessor. The lords joined in this peti-
tion, and it whs ordered to be presented by the
Earl of Portland and two members □( the lower
house. Charles waa now leas coui'teous than
before, for fay the time this petition waa pre-
aented, tlie queen wns on nhip-lionnl.' On tbe

day on which ahe sailed, the 23d of Pebmaiy,
he wrote an extraordinary letter to the Earl of
Berkshire, who produced it in the House of
Ixxda, where sevenl other peers affirmed that
they had received letters from the king to the
same effect ; whereapon the houae went into coin-
mittee to consider what ill counsels had beeo
given to his majsaty, &c On the SCth Charles
returned to Canterbury, and sent orders that iho
Prince of Wales should meet him at Qreenwieh.
This order waa instantly communicated to par-
liament, apparently by the Marquis of HertfcHtl,
the govertior of the young prince. Both houses
joined lu a mesaage, repreaenting that it was
their humble desire that the prince might not be
removed from Hampton Court. To the renaoua
they assigned for their request, Cfaartes answered,
that the prinoe'a going to meet him at Gi«enwid>
waa no way contrary to his former intention —
that he was very aorry to bear of the indisposi-
tion of the Marqnia of Hertford— and that, as for
the feara and jealousies spoken of, that might
arise from the prince's removal, he knew not
what answer to give, not being able to imagine
from what grounds they proceeded. In the
meantime Herifmrd, who had got as suddenly
well aa he had fallen sick, had been at (Green-
wich, and, in defiance of parliament, had put the
young piince into hia father's handa. On Son-
day, the S7th of February, some of the lords were
sent to Greenwich to endeavour to bring the
prince back to London ; but the king told them
haughtily, that he would take chai^ of the
prinoe himself, and carry him along with him
wherever he went. Charles then moved from
Oreenwicb to Theobalda, being now, as he con-
ceived, ready for a longer journey. He waa fol-
lowed to Theobalds by an urgent petition of both
houses, entreating him to yield the point about
the militia, and telling him that if ha did not,
they should be compelled, and were Ksolved, to
take that matter into their own hands for the
safety of the kingdom. Tbey moreover besouf^t
him to return to his capital and parliament, and
not to remove the young prince to a distance from
them. This was plain speaking. Charles also
thought that the time was now come for him to
adopt the same kind of language. He aud hastr-
ily, " I am BO much amazed at tliia message that
I know not what to answer. You speak of jeal-
ousiei and feara: lay your hands to your hearts
and ask yourselves whether I may not likewise
be disturbed with fears and jealousies; and, if
BO, I assure you this measBge hath nothing lea-
seued them. For the militia, I thought so much
of it before I sent that answer, and am so much

u Imsih to hU nud jttlanpt to Hixe Id panm

of FcbnuT. In It Cbiulo FarticaUr.

imben. mnd Ubowvd U Qj

»Google

AD. 1641—1641] CHAE

urared that the answer is agreeable to what in
JQBtice or reason jou can ask, or I in honour
grant, that I abaU not alter it in an; point. For
mj residence near jaa, I wish it might be so safe
and honourable that I had do cause to absent
myaeU from Whitehall ; ask youraelTes whether
I have not. For mj son, I shall take that care
of him which shall justify roe to Qod as a father,
and to mj domioiona aa a king. To conclude :
I assure you, upon my honour, that I have no
thought but of peace and justice to my people,
which I shall, bj all fair means, seek to preserre
and miuntain, relying upon the goodness and
providence of God for the preservation of myself
and rights.' ' As soon as this answer from Theo-
balds was made known in the house, the com-
mons resolved that the kingdom should be forth-
with put into a posture of defence by authority
of parliament alone ; and that a committee sheuld
be appointed to prepare a declaration laying down
the just causes of their fears and jealousies, to
clear their house from any jealousies conceived
of it, and to consideraod declare their opinion as
to all mattos diat might arise out of this crisis.
Then the eonunone demanded a conference with
the lords, and invited them to joiu in these their
resoluliuna. The first resolution about putting
the kingdom cm ita cMence was earned in the
npper honae, but not till after a serious debate,
nor without some protests ; the second resolution
was adopted nnanimouBly. Instantly an order
was iaaued by the two houses for fitting gut . the
entire fleet, and for patting it under the com-
mand of the Eari of Northumberland, Lord High-
admiral of Eagland, v/ba was instructed to see
all the rt^al ^pa rigged and put in readiness,
and to make knowD to all merchants, msstera,
and owners of trading vesseU, that it would be
an acceptable- service to the king and parliament
if they likewise would cause all their ships to be
rigged and eqnipped, so that they might put to
sea at the shmest notice. Both lords and com-
mons then adjourned for two days to give time
for their jtunt committee to meet at Merchant
Tailors'-hall, and there prepwe other matters.
On the fith of March the former Militia ordin-
ance was read again in the lords; but this time
the king's name and authmity were wholly left
out, and the blanks for the names of the lords-
lieutenaate were all filled up by noblemen and
gentlemen who had been reconHoended by the
commons. Many of these lieutenantsof coooties
who were to have the command of the militia
were royalists — nearly all were men of the hif^
est raok and attached to monarchy; but theu
there were many hated names in the list, and
Charles was convinced, and probably upon good
grounds, that, in the case of a civil war, the ma-

T. 507

jority of them would lean rather to the parlia-
ment than to him. He seems to have felt that
the array of the aristocracy would have been
against him in any attempt to restore the old
despotism. To strengthen the ordinance, tlie
commons sent up to the other house the foUow'
ing resolutions :— That the commissions recently
granted under the great seal foi* lieutenancies for
connUes were illegal and void; that such com-
missions sliould be oil called in and cancelled ;
and that whosoever should att«mpt to execute
any such power without consent of parliament
should b*acaounted a disturber of the peace of
the kingdom — and these resolutions were adopted
by th» lorda with a feeble murmur of dissent
from three voices. After this the commons sent
up their famous Declaration, setting, forth the
causes of their fears and jealousies, linking the
king and the court with the Irish rebellion and
massacre, asserting all along them had been a
plan for the altering of religion.and breaking the
neck of parliament — that the Kings of France and
Spain had been solicited by tlie pope's nuncio to
lend his majesty SOOO men, to help to maintain
his royalty against the parliament; and, in the
end, inviting his majesty- to retatu to Whitehall,
aud bring the prince with, him, as one of the best
ways of removing their appnahDnsian. The lords,
after some debate, resolved that they agreed with
the House of Commons in this Declaration. But
fourteen peera entered their names as-dissenting
from this vote.

The king had removed fnmL Theobalds to
Royston on the 3d of March, and on the 7th he
proceeded from Boyston to Newmarket, many
persons joining him on the road. On the 9th his
"revolted courtiers," the Earls of Pembroke and
Holland, were aftor him, and prcsent«d at New-
castle this unreserved Declaration of the parlia-
ment. Holland, it appears, the man. who had
formerly been the queen's favourite, read the pro-
voking paper. When he came to tha passages
which related to the royul warrants granted to
the two higitives from parliament, the Lord
Digby and Mr. Jermyn, Charles interrupted him
by crying, "That is false!" and when Holland
went on and tondied again upon the same sub-
ject, hie majesty exclaimed, "Tis a lie!' He
said that it was a high thing to tax a king with
breach of promise; that, for this Declaration, be
could not have believed the parliament would
have sent him such a pf^>er if he had not seen it
tvov;^ by such persons of honour. "I am sorry
for the parl^mMit,.'' continued he, "but am glad
I have it (the Dieclaration), for by that I doubt
not to satkfy my pei^le^ Ye speak of ill coun-
sels, but I am confident the parliament haUi had
worse information than I have had counsels."
He then asked tliem what he bad denied the i?ar-

»Google

50S

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil, AND MlLTTABT.

liament. The £srl of Holland instanced the
militm. "That vras uo bill," cried the king. "But
it is a necesaatj request at this time," said Hol-
land. "But I have not denied it yet," retorted
Charles. On the following day the Icing deliv-
ered hia deliberate answer to the Declaration.
Holland read it, and then endeavoured to per-
suade his majesty to return to hia capital. "I
would," said Charles, "you had given me cause ;
but I am sure this Uecliration is not the way to
lead me to it. In all Aristotle's rhetoric there ia
no such argument of persuasion as this. Then
the Earl of Pembroke told him that the parlia-
ment had humbly besought hia majesty to come
near them. " I have learnt by their Declaration,"
said Chariea, "ttmt these words are not enough."
Pembroke then entreated him clearly to express
what he would have. " I would whip a boy in
Westminster School," said Charles, "who could
not tell that by my answer." Tbe king was
coarsely oracular, and inclined to play at cross
purposes— that wretched game which had brought
iiim to his present straits. Presently he t«ld the
messengers of parliament that they were much
mistaken if they thought hia answer a denial.
"Then," said Pembroke, " may not the militia be
granted ss desired by the parliament /or « lime?"
"No, by God 1" exclaimed Charles, "not for an
hour. You have asked that of me that was uever
asked of any king, and with which I will not
truat my wife and children,"' Charles then
turned to Ireland, saying, "The buainesa of Ire-
land will never be done in the way that you
are in. Four hundred will never do that work;
it must be put into the hands of on«. If J
were trusted with it, I would pawn my head to
end that work ; and though I am a beggar my-
aelf, by God I can find money for that." "In
the meantime," he continued, " I must tell you
that I rather expected a vindication for the im-
pntation laid on me in Uaster Pym'a speech,
than that any more general rumours and dia-
counies should get credit with you. For my feara
and doubts, I did not think they sliould have
been so groundless or trivial, while so many se-
ditious pamphlets and sermons are looked upon,
and so great tumults are remembered, unpun-
ished, uninquired into : I stilt confess my fears,
and call God to witness, that they are greater for
the true Protestant profession, my people, and
laws, than for my own rights or safety; though
I must tell you I conceive that none of these are
free from danger. What would you havel Have
I violated your laws) Have Idenied topaisany
bill for the ense and security of my subjects ) I
do not ask you what you have done for me.
Have any of my people been transported with
toan and apprehennions t I have olTere<l as free

and general a pardon sa yourselves can desire.
All this conaidered, there is a judgment from
heaven upon this nation, if these distractionB
continue. God so deal with me and mine, as all
my thoughts and intentions are upright, far the
maintenance of the true Protestant profession,
and for the observation and preservation of the
laws of thia land; and I hope God will bleaaand
assist those laws for my preservation." These
were solemn asservations: nevertheless, at that
vBiy moment, the queen waa selling and pawn-
ing the crown jewels of England in order to pur-
chase arms and ammunition, and to bring in a
foreign army upon the English people. There waa
truth in the assertion that he had passed many
bills for the ease and security of hia aubjects —
that he had made great and valuable coneeaeiona;
but then, unfortunately for him, it was equally
true— aa it was equally well known — that he had
yielded later than at the eleventh hour, and only
in the face of a power rising paramount to hia
own — that, as long aa be could, he had proudly
and acornfully resisted the slightest concession.
Could such a prince get credit for a sudden con-
version] The thing wos scarcely to be expected,
even had there been no circumstances to provoke
BUBpicion i and there were a thousand such circum'
stances. Every wind that blew from the Conti-
nent brought reports of foreign alliances and
projected invaaiona.

At the same time Chariea edged away to the
north-east, towards tbe very coast which hod
been mentioned aa the spot aelected for the land-
ing of the invading army. On the 14th of Harch
he went fram Newmarket to Huntingdon, whence
he dated an elaborate message to the two houses,
and then proceeded to Stamford. In this mes-
sage he announced to them that he intended fix-
ing his residence for some time in the city of
York. He again exculpated himself at the ex-
pense of parliament; forbade them to presume,
upon any pretence, to settle the militia, and pro-
tested that all their acts to which he was no
parly would, and must be, ill^al and void.
Thei-eupon it was voted by both liousea — " 1.
That the king's absence so far remote from his
parliament ia not only an obstruction, but may
be a destruction to the affairs of Ireland. 2. That.
when the lords and commons in porlianieot shall
declare what the law of the land is, to have
this not only questioned and controverted, but
contradicted, and a command that it should not
be obeyed, ia a high breach of the privilege of
parliament. 3. That thsy which advised the
king to absent himself from the parliament arc
enemiea (o the pence of this kingdom, and jostly
to be suspected aa favourers of the rebellion in
Ireland." On the same day (the 16th of MarchJ,
voted that the kingdom Itad been

»Google

A.U. 1641-1642.] CHAB

of late, and still vaa iu imminent danger, both
froui enemiea abroad and from faction at home;
that, ID this case of extreme danger, seeing his
(uajeBty'a refusal, the ordinajiee agreed upon by
both houses for the militia ought to lie obeyed
according to the fundamental lawa of the klog-
dom; and that such pereons aa should be nomi-
tiated to take the command should execute their
office by the joint authority of the two houses.
The lords agreed; and the lieuteaauts and de-
puty-lie utenanta of counties began to organize
the militia. On the 18th of March Charles was
at Doucast«r; on the 19th at York, where he be-
gan to organize a separate government. On tlie
26th the Lord Willoughby, Lord Dungarvon,
and Sir Anthony Ereby, arrived at York, to pre-
sent to him the parliament's justification of their
late Declaration. This document accused him
of being the cause of all the troubles by resist-
ing the Militia bill; ti^ld him that his fears and
doubts were unfounded; besought him to re-
member that the government of the kingdom,
before the beginning of the present parliament,
consisted of many continued and multiplying acts
of violation of the laws; "the wounds whereof
were scarcely heated, when the extremity of all
those violations was far exceeded by the strange
and unheard-of breach of law, in the accusa-
tion of the Lord Kimbolton and live members of
the commons' house," for which they hod as yet
received no full satisfaction. With much thank-
fulness they acknowledged that liia majesty had

LES I. 609

passed many good bills, full of contentment and
advantage to his people; but truth and necessity
enforced them to add, " Chat ever in or about the
time of pttuing thote bUU, some detign or other
had beeA on foot, which, if taccenfid, would not
only have deprived them of the fruit of tho»t bills,
but icoidd have reduced them to a wane condition
than that in which thi* praent parliamaU had
found the nation," They threw back his offer of
a pardou with cold disdiun, telling him that it
could be no security to their fears and jealousies,
which arose, not from any guilt of their own, but
from the evil designs and attempts of others.
They ended by advising and beseeching his ma-
jesty to return to his capital and parliament witli
all convenient speed, where he should find duti-
ful affections and earnest endeavours to establish
his throne u[M)n the sure foundation of the peace
and prosperity of all his kingdoms. In his re-
ply, Charles assumed a haughty and sarcastic
tone, telling them that they need not expect his
presence u[itil they should both secure him COD-
cerning his just apprehensions of tumultuary in-
solences, and give him satisfaction for those in-
supportable scandals that had been raised against
him. He, however, again protested that he
neither desired nor needed any foreign force to
preserve him from oppression. The fact was,
that he and his parliament were now scrambling
for arms and warlike means, and, having failed
in getting possession of the Tower of London,
Charles had his eyes fixed upon Hull, as a place.

OehOil Viiw or Hcru. n 1

in present circnmstances, more important than
his capital. Nor was that city, with its magazines
of arms, much less important in the eyes of par-
liament. Sir John Hotham was governor there,
and the younger Hotham had undertaken, in the
House of Commons, to carry down their orders.
Nearly at the same moment the king humed off
the Earl of Newcastle, with most gracious letters

I PxuOD.— Pram ■ print bj RoIUt.

in his majesty's name, full of clemency and fine
promises, to the townsmen of Hull, who were
commanded to deliver instantly to the said earl,
the keys of the porta, magozincB, block-houaes,
Sic. Newcastle, whose heart misgave him, as-
sumed the name of Sir John Savage, and tried to
pass into the town unknown; but he was recog-
nized by some by-staiiden, and presently forced

,v Google

510

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CiVTLA

> UlLITAKT.

til own both hu name and hia errand. ThemBjor,
aJdennen, and townsmen of Hull, foreseeing the
coming tempeat, and knowing that the parlia-
ment had resolved to leave the government of
their town in the hands of Sir John Hothara, re-
solved npon a petition, to beseech his majeat; to be
pleased to agree with his parliament in this busi-
ness, that so, without breach of fealt7 or incur-
ring the displeasure of either king or parliament,
thej might know in whose hands they were to
intrust that strength of the kingdom, and their
own lives and property. The king took no no-
tice of this petition; but the House of Lords in-
stantly summoned the Earl of Newcastle to at-
tend at his place in parliament. Charles, it ap-
pears, then requested the townsmen to keep Hull
themselves, with their mayor as sole governor;
and the earl and Captain Legg bestirred them-
selves among the people: but all was of no avail;
the courtiers were driven out, and the younger
Hotham was received in the town with three
companies of train-bands. The authorities freely
surrendered into hid hands the magazines and
block-houses, and shortly after Sir John Hotham
annved with more companies of the train-bands
of Yorkshire. The garrison of Hull was thus
raised to about 800 men. From the 19th of
March to the 22A of April, Charles resided at
York: a court was formed around him; a crazy,
tott«ring, timid ministry was put iu action, and
nights as well as days were spent in deep de-
liberation, and in the drawing up of - declarations,
protestations, and other state papers. On the
£4th of March, the day on which the act grant-
ing him tonnage and poundage expired, Charles
issued a proclamation, commanding the continu-
ance of the payment of that tax or duty, and
charging all his customers, comptrollers, collec-
tors, searchers, waiters, &c,, and all justices of
the peace, mayors, sheriffs, bailiffs, constables,
head-boroughs, and others, his majesty's otScers
and ministers, to take care that the proclnmation
should be fully executed and the orders per-
formed. Upon the very same day the lords and
commons publiHhed an order, retaining to them-
selves the entire control of that source of revenue.
On the 6th of April Charles sent to ocqu^nt
the parliament with his resolution of going into
Ireland for suppressing the rebellion there. He
assured them, and all bis loving subjects, that he
would earnestly pursue the design for the de-
fence of Ood's true religion, not declining any
hazard of his person; and he called God to wit-
ness the sincerity of Ids professions, and the fur-
ther assurance that he would never consent to
a toleration of the Popish profession in IreUnd.
He then lamely introduced Uie great subject of
Hull, telling them that he intended forthwith to
raise, by his own commissions, a guard for bis

person, which was to consist of SOOO foot andSOO
horse, all to be armed from his magazines at
Hull. He added that he had sent despatches
into Scotland to quicken the levies there making
for Ireland, and that he hoped the encouragement
given to adventurers would facilitate the raising
of men and money for that service. Charles
WAS perfectly aware that the commons would op-
pose with all their might his entrance into Hnll.
Days wore away, and he received no answer to
this his last message. On the 32d of April he
sent the young Duke of York, his nephew the
prince-palatine, the Earl of Newport, the Lord
Willoughby, and "some other persons of hon-
our," but without any armed force, to see the
town of Hull. These visitors were respectfully
received and entertained by the mayor and the
governor. Sir John Hotham. They spent that
day in viewing the beauty and the strength of
the place, and partaking of a banquet prepared
by the mayor and aldermen of Hull, On the
morrow, the 23d of April, being St. George's Day,
they were all invited to dine with the governor;
but a little before dinner-time. Sir John Hothuu
being busy in discourse with their highneasen,
was suddenly saluted by Sir Lewis Dives, the
brotlier-iii-law and correspondent of the fugitive
Lord Dighy. Sir Lewis delivered (o Sir John
a message from his majesty, purporting that bis
majesty also intended to dine with him that day,
being then within four miles of Hull with an
escort of 300 horse and upwards. Old Hotham
was startled, but, perceiving what was intended,
he hastened to consult with Mr. Felham, a mem-
ber of the House of Commons and alderman of
Hull, and with some others who were equally
pledged to the parliament side. Thene gentle-
men presently decided (there was short time for
deliberaUon) that a messenger should be sent to
his majesty, hnmbly to beseech him to forbear
to come, forasmnch as the governor could not,
without betraying his trust, admit him with so
great a guard. As soon as this messenger bad
returned, and had brought certain information of
the king's advance, Hotham drew up the bridge,
shut the gates, and commanded his soldiers to
stand to their arms. This was scarcely done
when Charles rode up to Beverley gate, called for
Sir John Hotham, and commanded him to open
the gate. To that fr^uently repeated command
Sir John's only answer was, tiiat he was in-
trusted by tlie parliament with the secnring of
the town for his majesty's honour nnd the king-
dom's nse — that he intended, by (Tod's help, to
do this duty — that his majesty onght not to mis-
interpret his conduct into disloyalty— that, if his
majesty would be pleased to come in with the
Prince of Wales and twelve more, he should be
welcome. The king refused to enter without his

»Google

A.D. 1641-1642] CHAR

whole guard. The altercation began at eleven '
o'clock; at one o'clock the Duke at Yurk, the |
Elector-palatine, and their attendants, were al-
lowed to go out of the town to join the king.
Charles stayed bj the gate till four o'clock, when
he retired, and gave Sir John Hotham one hour
to conuder what he did. At five o'clock Charles
retiimed to the gat«, where be received from the

„. ^\

governor the same answer. Thereupon he caused
two hsralds-at-arma to proclaim Sir John Ho-
tham a traitor; and then, disappointed, enraged,
humiliated, he retreated to Beverley, where he
lodged that unhappy night The next morning
he sent a herald and some others back to Hull to
offer the governor a pardon and tempting condi-
tions if he would yet open the gat«. Hotham re-
plied as be had dune the day before; and Charles
then rode away to York, whence he despatched
aaotber mesaage to the parliament. On the next
day (the 25th) he sent another message to par-
liament, and a very gracious letter to the mayor,
aldermen, and burgesses of Hull. Both were
worM than useless. The lords and commons de-
clared instantly that his stopping np the passag«3
between Hull and the parliament, and intercept-
ing of messengers employed by parliament,' was a
high breach of their privileges; that the iheriiTs
and justices of the peace of the counties of York
and lincoln, and all other his majesty's offictrs,
shonld be called upon to sappress all forces that
should be raised in those countie<i, either to force
the town of Hull, or to stop passengers to and
from it; that Sir John Hotham had done nothing
but in obedience to the coramnnd of both Houses
of Parliament; that the declaring Sir John n
traitor, he lieing a member of the House of Com-
mons, was a high lueach of the privileges of pitr-

LES 1. 511

liament, and, being without due process of law,
was against the liberty of the subject and the
law of the land. On the same day that these last
resolutions wei'e carried they drew up a petition
against his majesty's going over to Ireland, tell-
ing him plainly that they could never consent to
any levies or raising of soldiers to be made by
hia majesty alone for this his intended expedi-
tion, or to the payment of any army
except such as sfaoald be employed and
commanded according to the advice and
direction of parliament. And all this
was accompanied by an eneigetic de-
claration, in which they insisted that
their precaution in securing Hull had
been necessary to the safety of the
country; and that it was the king and
his adherents, and not Sir John Ho-
tham, that had transgressed. This pe-
tition was delivered to his majesty by
the Earl of Stamford- On the 4th of
May Chsf les gave a long answer to
the petition and ti^ the declaration of
the two houses. He b^an by com-
plaining that hie message demanding
justice for the high and unheard-of
lapofHuU. affront offered to him at the gates of
Hull by Sir John Hotham had not been
thought worthy of an answer, but that, instead
thereof, parliament had thought it fit, by their
printed votes, to own and avow that unparalleled
act as being done in obedience to the command of
both Houses of Parlinment. He claimed an entire
right of property in tlie towns, forts, and maga-
zines of the kingdom. "And we would fain be
answered," said he, " what title any subject of our
kingdom hath to his house or land that we have
not to our town of Hull) Or what right hath
he to his money, plate, or jewels that we have
not to our magajiine or munition there! ......

We very well know the great and nnlimited
power of parliament, but we know as well that
it is only in that sense as we are a part of that
parliament. Without ua, and against our con-
sent, the votes of either or Ixith houses together
must not, cannot, shall not forbid anything that
is enjoined by the law, or enjoin anything that
is forbidden by the law." He said that Lord
Di)>by'B intercepted letters, wherein mention was
made of his retreat to a place of safety, ought not
to hinder him from visiting his own town and
foi't; and, quitting thiH tickliHh point with the
fene^t words possible, he prot«st«d with all so-
lemnity timt his heart bled at the apprehension
of a civil war, and that, if any such should arise,
the btood and destruction must be laid to the
account of parliament, his own conscience telling
him that he wae dear- He re-asserted the noto-
rious falsehood, that be bad offered to go iuto

»Google

612

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and MiLiritRr.

Hull with twentj horae 011)7, his whole train be-
ing onanned. As for Hothara, he said, " We
had been contemptiblj stupid if we had made
any scruple to proclaim him traitor. .... And
that, in such a case, the declaring him traitor, be-
ing a member of the House of ComraouB, should
be a breach of privilege of parliament, we must
have other reasons than bare votes to prove."
He had rather happilj quoted before from Pym'a
apeecfa on the trial of StrafTord, and he ended
his answer with another extract from the same
"great driver:" — "We conclude with Mr. Pym'a
own words : ' If the prerogative of the king over-
whelm the liberty of the people, it will be turned
to tyranny; if liberty undermine the prerogative,
it will grow into anarchy."

On the £6th of May the pariiament sent him
their reroonatrance, or declaration, in answer to
hia declaiation concerning the business of Hull.
The royal declaration, which, like roost of these
papers, ie supposed to be the composition of
Hyde, wu considered by the two houses in the
light of an appeal to the people, and a declining
of further negotiation between the king and them,
"Therefore,* said they, "we likewise shall ad-
dress our answer to the people, not by way of
appeal, but to prevent them from being their
own executioners, and from being persuaded, un-
der false colours of defending the law and their
liberties, to destroy both with their own hands,
by taking their lives, liberties, and estates out
of their hands whom they have chosen and in-
trusted therewith, and resigning them up to some
evil counsellors about his majesty, who can lay
no foundation of their own greatness but upon
the ruin of this, and in it of all parliaments, and
in them of the true religion and the freedom of
this nation." They announced, in the highest
and most iutelligible tone, their conceptions as to
the king's right of property. Referring to Char-
Wb assertion that he had the same property in
the town of Hull, and in the magazines there,
tbatanyof his subjects had in their houses, lands,
or money, they said, "Hera that is laid down for
a principle which would indeed pull up the very
foundation of the liberty, property, and interest
of every subject in particular, and of all the sub-
jects in general; .... for his majesty's towns
are no more his own than the kingdom is hia
own; and his kingdom ia no more his own than
his people are his own: and, if the king had a
property in all his towns, what would become of
the subjects' property in their houses therein!
And if he had a property in his kingdom, what
would become of the subjects' property in their
lands throughout the kingdom! or of their liber-
Ues, if his majesty had the same right In their
persons that every subject hath in their lands or
goodal" They went 00 to observe that tlie erro-

neous notion being infused into princes that their
kingdoms were their own, and that they might
do with them what they would — "as if their
kingdoms were for them, and not they for their
kingdoms' — was the root of all their invasions
of their aubjects' juat righta and liberties; and
that sofarwas the notion in question from being
true, that in fact their kingdoms, their towns, the
people, the public treasure, and whatsoever waa
bought therewith, were all only given to them in
trust: by the known laws of England, the very
jewels of the crown were not the king's pro-
perty, hot were only confided to his keeping for
the use and ornament of hia regal dignity. The
remonstrance of the two houses went on to affirm
that they had given no occasion to his majesty
to declare with ao much earnestness that their
votes would be nothing without or against his
consent; that they were very tender of the law
themselves, nad so would never allow a few pri-
vate persons about his majesty, nor his majesty
himself out of his courts, to be judge of the law,
and that, too, contrary to the judgment of the
highest court of judicature. They then returned
to Lord Digby's intercepted letter. " We ap-
peal," said they, "to the judgment of any indif-
ferent man that shall read that letter, and com-
pare it with the posture that hia majesty then
did and stil! doth stand in towards the parlia-
ment, and with the circumstances of that late
action of hia majesty iu going to Hull, whether
the advisers of that journey intended only a visit
of that fort and magazineT They told the king
that it was a resolution moat worthy of a prince
to shut his ears against any that would incline
him to a civil war; but they could not believe
that spirit to have animated those that came with
his majesty to the House of Commona; or thoae
that accompanied him from Whitehall to Hamp-
ton Court, and appeared in a warlike manner at
Kingston; or those that followed him to Hull:
or those that, after that expedition, drew their
sworda at York, demanding who would be lor
the king; or those that advised hia majesty to
declare Sir John Hotham a traitor. Aud then
they imitated Charles in casting the weight of
blood from themselves, declaring that they stood
acquitted by God and their consciences if those
malignant spirits should ever force them to de-
fend their religion, their country, the privileges of
parliament, and the liberties of the subject, with
their swords. To this long paper Charies re-
turned a stil! longer reply, and both were printed
and published in the form of pamphlets. The
two houses again took up the controversial pen
shortly afterwards ; but their rejoinder was of
iuch a length as to appear very tedious, even to
the patient and long-winded Rushworth. Char-
les issued n proohuuation, stating that, for soma

,v Google

A.D. 1641—1642.] CHAR

months, bis town aod county of KingBtOQ-upon-
Hull bad been withheld from him, and hia en-
trance traitoroiialyreaisted, b/ Sir John Hothatn,
&C. But not hoping to gain ho impurtant a prize
by a proclamation, the royalists had recourse to
Btratagem and bribes, £ut Hotham counter-
plotted, and outwitted them, and the rtus en-
tirely failed. The parliament voted thanks to
Sir John Hotham for this good service. Seeing
that the king's troops were daily increasing at
York, and that they were bent upon the capture
of Hull, Hotham, for hia own security, and to
prevent any practices of bribery within the town,
exacted from the inhabitants a solemn protesta-
tion oi' oath that they would faithfully maintain
Hull for the king and parliament and kingdom's
use. The greater part of the inhabitants took
the protestation willingly.and those thnt refused
it were expelled from the town. As the great
aim of Charles was to get possession of the ma-
gazines, Hotham, by order of parliament, sent
all the great ordnance and most of the arms and
funrounition back to the Tower of London.

Charles now issued a proclamation, forbidding
the Diuster of any troops or any militia without
his comraaods and commission ; but several days
before this (on the Ath of May) the parliament
bad issued a declaration, in which, after con-
demning the king's refusal to give his assent to
an amended bill for settling the militia, they
stated that they should forthwith carry into effect
their own ordinance respecting the militia, and
required all persons in authority to put the said
ordinance into execution. The lords-lieutenants
being named for their several counties, nomin-
ated their deputy-lieutenants, subject to the ap-
probation of parliament. Thus the Lord Paget
being named iu the ordinance for Buckingham-
shire, he named Hampden, Goodwin, Grenville,
Tyrrel, Winwood, and Whitelock as his deputy-
lieutenants; and these gentlemen, being approved
by the two houses, entered upon the command of
the BuckiDghamshirs militia.' St. John, Selden,
Maynard, Glynne, Orimston, and many other
members of the House of Commons, accepted the
like commiasions, and turned their attention from
oratory and debate to drilling and tactics. The
king declared that there was now no legal power
in ^e houses to do what they had done, com-
manded all men to refuse obedience to the parlia-
ment's "pretended ordinance," and summoned a
county meeting at York tor the purpose of pro-
moting the levy of troops for hia own service.
But thers were more men attended this meeting

■ " TIm Lord Pwm, not long iftsr thii. tK«>a to boggla ind

■JES I. 513

than Charles had wislied, and Sir Thomas Fair-
fax boldly laid upon the pummel of the king's
saddle the warm remonstrance and petition of
the leaser gentry and farmers and freeholders of
Yorkshire, who asserted their right of being pre-
sent, and desired the king to agree with his par-
liament. Even the aristocracy of the county were
divided, and all that Charles obtained was one
troop of horse, composed of gentlemen volunteers,
who were nominally to be under the command of
the boy Prince of Wales, and a foot regiment
formed out of some of the train-banda This
paltry gathering at York was no sooner reported
in parliament than the three following resolutions
were hurled at the king and his throne: — 1. That
the king, seduced by wicked counsels, intended
to make war on the parliament. 8. That when-
soever the king made war upon the parliament,
it was a breach of the trust reposed in him hj
his people, contrary to his oath, and tending to
the dissolution of the government. 3. That who-
soever should assist him in such war were trai-
tors by the fundamental laws of the kingdom.
After thia the houses published another remon-
strance, exposing the kin^s misdeeds, and ex-
plaining their own privileges and intentions,
Charles answered, and they rejoined, and then
they ordered that all sheriffs, justices of the
peace, &c., within 150 miles of that city, should
stop ail arms and ammunition going to York,
and appiebend the conveyeni, and also suppress
all forces coming together by the king's commia-
sion. The ordinance of parliament was more
effective than the proclamations and summonses
of the king. In London alone a little army waa
raised. In the month of May the train-bauds
had a general muster in Finsbury Fields, where
Major-general Skippon appeared as their oom-
mauder, and where tents were pitched for the
accommodation of the members of both houses.
Eight thousand men were under arma These
were divided into six regiments, and officered by
men hearty in the cause.

The king, it is said, had given offence to the
English sailors by calling them "water-rats;"
and whether the story be true or not, it seems
certain that his govemmeut was unpopular with
the navy. It will be remembered that the houses
had commissioned the lord high-admiral, the Earl
of Northumberland, to put the fleet into a war-
like attitude. This nobleman, who enjoyed the
confidence of neither party, was, or pretended to
be very sick. The commons voted that he should
be desired to appoint the Earl of Warwick to the
command of the fleet, and requested the concur-
rence of the lorils. The lords scrupled and hesi-
tated, objecting that the appointment required
the sanction of the king. But thereupon the
commons, without the consent of the lords, and

m

,v Google

514

HISTORY OF ENGLAND,

[Civil a

) Military.

BgBJoHt the command of Cbarles, compelled Nor-
thumberland to depute hia authority to War-
wick, and actually put Warwick, vho wan ac-
ceptable to the aaiioiB, into the command of the
fleet. Charlea revoked Northumberland'a com-
misdon, and appointed Pennington to the com-
mand of the fleet; but the siulors would not re-
eeire this officer, and the parliament declared hia
appointment to be illegal. The king hoped to
gain over the fleet, as he had hoped to gain pos-
Kwion of Hull, by a ntie; ' but the event showed
that he had vldely miscalculated the temper of
the English seamen. If we are to believe the
royalict historian, the king had not at this time
on« barrel of powder, nor one muaket, uor any
other provision necesBaiyforaii army; and what
was worse, he was not sure of any port at which
warlike stores might be safely landed from the
Continent "He exp«ct«d with impatience the
arrival of all those necessaries by the care and
activity of the queen, who was then in Holland,
and by the sale of her own, as well as of the
crown jewels, and by the friendship of Henry
Prince of Orange, did ell she could to provide
all that was necessary." The parliament, well
aware of tliese preparations in Holland, decreed,
that wboeoever should lend or bring money into
the kingdom raised upon the crown jewels should
be held as an enemy to the state. Some weeks
before Uiis, when the act was passed for the
speedy reducing of the rebels in Irekud, and
the immediate securing the future peace and
safety of England, many niemben of parliament
voluntarily snbecribed large sums of money, and
their eiample was followed by other gentlemen
and freeholders, who set on foot subscriptions in
their several counties. The county of Bucking-
ham, for example, advanced ;CeOOO. Foremost
in the list of the subscribing members in the
oommouB, we find the names of Sir Henry Mar-
tin for £1200, Mr. Walter Long, Bir Arthur
Hazlerig, and Sir John Harrison for the same
snm each, Mr. Oliver Cromwell for ^00, John
Fym for £600, John Hampden for £1000, Bul-
strode Whitelock, £600, So.

While the king was lying at York he was writ-
ing hard and working by other means to interest
the Scots in his favour, and to get up a strong
party among them. From the Scottish council
he received a dutiful and affectionate answer,
and he also got a petition from divers of the no-
bility and people there full of expressions of zeal
and loyalty.* Bat the English parliament, hear-

■ CUmdoD, Hilt. ' lUd.

■ Wbltalock, XiMiriiili. ' lUd.

> Thgr hid ill thm bean in Terj dccidtd oppoaltlcin to Ih*

U. Hjdf.BimuhbnUrkntr

a hj hit title of L«il CUniMluii,

ing of these proceedings, " took a course to turn
the balance," and within eight days after, the
Scottish council declared both to king and par-
liament their earnest desire to see them reconciled
with one another; and they moreover hambly
desired his majesty "to hearken to hia greatest,
his best, and most unparalleled council.' The
Scottish ministers, indeed, were checked in any
exuberance of loyalty by the stem spirit of the
people, who still looked upon the king as the
enemy to their kirk and their liberties, and npon
the English Honse of Commons as their best
friends. No sooner bad the people of Edinburgh
heard of the correspondence carrying on between
Cliarles and the council, than they petitioned the
latter not to take part, by any verbal or real en-
gagement to the king, against the parliament of
England. "These paasages in ScoUand' were of
much advantage to the affairs of the English par-
liament, who still protested their fidelity to the
king, at the same time that they courted the
Scots with very kiud expressions.*

Several members of both bouses— some who
were in the service of the court, others who be-
lieved that the parliament was going too far or
too fast — now withdrew to the king at York.
For the present, the commons satisfied themselves
with passing an order that every member should
be in his place by a certwi day, or forfeit £100
to the Irish war. On his first arrival at York,
Charles was attended by no other ostensible mini-
ster than Secretary Nicholas, a timid and waver-
ing old man, who never knew half of his maater'a
mind, or saw the full intention of any measure
proposed by the king. Lord Falkland, Hyde,
and Culpeper, who had atiandoned the parlia-
ment and pledged themselves to the court,* and
who were, in fact, the chief directors of the royal
councils (though they again scarcely knew more
of Charles's mind than Nicholas), remained in
London to wat^ the proceedings of the House
of Commons, and to perform secret services of
various kinds. About the end of April, Hyde
received a letter from the king, commanding him
to repair to York aa soon as he could be tpand
from Ml hnnnat in London. The historian says
that he communicated this letter to his two
friends, Ixird Falkland and Sir John Culpeper,
who agreed with him that he should defer that
journey for some time, there being every day
great occasion of consulting together, and of send-
ing despatches to the king'-- -which despatches,
like nearly all the state papers, were wi-itten by

lind btra flloqwntlj Brna ig'Inn the cmindl i>t Yoik ; Lord
Fllklund, the idol of bii pirlr. Iind loted tot tlie aicIaeiDa of
the bithopi tVom the Honia of tnrft. In lirt, np to the md
or tlie picadlns yur, Hyde. Ftlklind. ind Culpeper, nn >U

..Hempd'"""!^™,
• "And It vat B vonderful MpeilMIoa tlut ■» tiwa laed

»Google

A,u. 1641—1642] CHAB

Hjde, the great penman of the royalist party,
"And," adda Clarendoo hiraself, " it waa bappy
that he did atny; for there waa an occaBion then
fell out in which hia presence waa very useful
iotoardi diapoiinff the Lord-keeper Liitlettm to tend
tha great teal to the king ol York."'' It appears
that Charles wanted the great aeal, but not the
lord-keeper; for Littleton had made himself very
oboozioua to the eourt by swimmiug with the
atrong stream of parliament. Besides other of-
fences, be had recent)}' voted in favour of the
Uilitia ordinance, and bad learnedly ineiated both
on the expediency and on the legality of that
measure. Clarendon, however, saya that he had
always been convinced of XJttleton'a loyalty, and
he describes him aa an honourable and noble
person, who waa only acting a double part. " Es-
pecially his raajeaty was assured by some whom
he trusted that the affection of the Lord Little-
ton was very entire to his service, and his com-
pliance only artificial to preserve himself in a
capacity of serving him, vkich woj (rae."' The
copious and magniloquent historian goes on to
tay that while littleton waa playing this part,

LES L 515

be called upon him one evening, and spoke very
freely with him. He told Littleton of the cen-
sure and hazard he incurred by his notable com-
pliance and correspondence vrith "that parly"
which the king conatrued to be factious agiaJDst
his just regal power, and that some votes in which
his lordship had concurred, and which were gene-
rally underatood to be contrary to law, in which
his lordship's knowledge was unquestionable, were
very notorious and much spoken of.' The lord-
keeper then told Hyde the straits he waa in—
"that the governing lords had a terrible appre-
hension of tlie kin^s sending for the great seal;
and that nothing but hia fair deportment towards
them, and seeming to be of their mind, prevented
their taking the seal into their own custody, al-
lowing it only to be with him whilst be sat in
the house and in the court; that they had made
some order to that purpose, if, by his interest
with them, he had not prevented it, well know-
ing that it would prove roost fatal to the king,
who, he foresaw, must be shortly compelled to
wish the great seal with him for many reasons.
" Now," said he, " let it be considered whether

GauT SiAL or Charles 1.' — V

my voting with them in such particulars, which
my not voting with thera cannot prevent, be of
equal prejudice to the king with the seal's being
put into such a condition that the king shall
never be able to get it when it is moat necessary
for him, which undoubtedly will be the case when,
by my carriage and opposition against them, the
confidence towards me shall be lessened." The
end of this long conversation was, that Littleton
promised to serve the king " in that article of
moment," and even to go to him at York. Hyde

bstween Yoik and London, irhon gtntlor

■patehBd t. Istta on BktuidAT niglit, it

•bout i«l« »t night, thv »1"»J» "™*

7 1«D of tb* dixk

'Xi/lt

ceiled ttw kins'! >iu«T
iraing,' — Clinndon, l\fi
Oxford adltjdn of Uii.

and his compeers communicated the happy intel-
ligence to their master, who thereupon deapatched
Mr. Eliot, a forward young man and a groom of
the bedchamber, with a warrant to receive the
great seal and a very kind letter to the lord-
keeper, requiring him to make all possible haste
to York. Littleton gave up the great symbol to
Eliot, who posted back to York with it; and then
Littleton posted after the seal, and. though he
was indisposed, and a much leas active traveller
tlian the groom of the chambers, he arrived at
York the next day after that gentleman had de-
livered the seal to his majesty. This is Claren-

■ CUnndon ayt, Ihit h* pntioolnrlr

=, Google

516

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[C.V

. JUTD MlLTTABT.

don'a account, or rather, we should bhj, one of
Clarendon's aecountt; and, according to thia nar-
rative, he contributed mainly to the great event,
hy hiB ingeniouE con venation with the lord-
keeper. But Eliot, the active groom of the cham-
ber, told the king a verv different sturj, afGrm-
ing that he had found the ]ord-kee|>er altogether
averae to the measure; that he had locked the
door upon him, and bad got the great seal from
him only by threatening to blow out his brains.
The hiitorian aays that Mr. Eliot did this, and
told many stories to magnify hia own service,
not imagining that the lord-keeper intended to
follow him to York. Dut may we not, on tlie
other side, suspect that Clarendon magnified hii
nerrice in thia jiarticutar, as he obviously does
in many other casefll May, an excellent antho-
rity, says, that the lord-keeper had continued in
all appearance firm to the parliament fir some
apace of time after the rest were gone to York ;
" insomuch that there seemed no doubt at all
made of his cimstancy, till, at the last, before
the end of the month of June, a yonng gentle-
man, one Master Thomas Eliot, groom of the
privy chamber to the king, was sent closely from
York to him; who, being admitted by the lord-
keeper into his private chamber when none else
were by, so handled the matter, whether by per-
raasions, threats, or promises, or whatsoever, that,
after three bour^ time, he got the great seal into
hia hands, and rid post witli it away to the king
at York. The I>onl-keeper Littleton, after serious
consideration with himself what lie bad clone, or
rather suffered, and not being able to answer it to
the parliament, the next day early In the morning
rode after it biniHeif, and went to the king. Great
was the complaint at London ngaiust him for that
action; nor did the king ever show him any great
regard aflerwards. The reason which the Lord-
keeper Littleton gave for parting so with the
grext seal to some friends of his who went after
him to York was this; — that the king, when
made bim lord-keeper, gave him an oath in p
vate, which he took, that, whensoever the king
should send to liim for the great seal, he should
forthwith deliver it. This oath (as he averred
to hia friends) his conscience would by no meaus
Buffer liira to dispense witbal; he only repented
(though now too late) that he accepted the office
upon those terms." Whitelock says simply — " Tlie
Lord- keeper Littleton, after his great adherence to
the parliament, delivered the great seal to Mr.
Eliot, whom the king sent to him for It; and
shortly after Littleton followed the seal to the
king, but was not much respected by him or the
courtiers." And all that is perfectly clear in this
strange mana:uvre, which like most of Charles')
niflBBures, and nil other manceuvi-es. Is liable U
a contrariety of doubts, is, that a groom of the

chamber carried off the seal, and that the lord-
keeper stole out of London, and by by-roads got
to York, where he was regarded but coldly by
his majesty. Clarendon says that the king was
not satisfied with Littleton;' that his majesty
would not for a long time re-deliver the teal to
him, hut always kept it in his own bedchamber,
and that men remarked ''a visible deject«dness'
in the lord-keeper. The historian tells us that
all this gave him much trouble, as well it might,
if his own story were the true one; and he tak^
to himself the credit of procuring better treat-
ment for the keeper. It id certain, however, that
Charles never placed any confidence in Littleton;
and that adroit lawyer met with the usual fat« of
double-dealers, was despised by both parties, lost
all spirit and talent for business, and concluded
his career about two years after at Oxford, in
neglect, jmverty, and mental wretchedness.

But it was now time for Clarendon himself to
steal away to York. Shortly after Littleton's
departure, the king told him that he would find
him much to do there, and "that he thoaght nam
there leould be let* reaton every daif for hit being
concealed."' Before Littleton's flight. Claren-
don had arranged all matters for the jouraey,
resolving with Lord Falkland to stay at a friend's
house near Oxford, a little out of the road he
meant to take for York, till he should hear of the
keeper's motion; and to cover his absence from
the House of Commons, he had told the speaker
that it was very necessary he should take the air
of the country for his health. As soon as the
keeper had flown, notice was taken in tlie house
of the absence of his friend Hyde; iuquiries were
made what was become of him, and it was moved
that he might be sent for. The house, however,
who probably did not consider the historian of
quite so much importance as he considered him-
self, neglected to take any steps for his appre-
hension for the present ; and when (as he aays)
" they had resolved upon his arrest, he was
warned thereof by Lord Falkland, and judging it
time for him to be gone," he then left Ditchley,
the house of the Lady Lee (afterwards Counte)«
of Rochester), and travelled by unusual ways
through Leicestershire and Derbyshire, until he
came to Yorkshire. At first he fixed himself at
Nostnll, within twenty miles of the city of York,
and there lay close and secret, corresponding
daily or hourly witii the king, and preparing an-
swers in his name to the papers and manifestoes
of the jjarliament. It should appear that even
the courtiers and ministers at York were kept in
ignorance as to his whereabout; for he says, that,
when, shortly after, he was summoned to York,
the king received him very graciously, and aaked
some questions aloud of him, ns if he thought

»Google

D. 1641— 16J2.1

CHARLES t.

517

he had then come from Loiidoo. But it was thua
thnt Ch&rlea dealt even with the instranients of
hia plans and inti'igues, concesJing from the rest
what was done bj one, and never impai-ting to
the whole body the Bchomea ia which all were to
work blindly, or at least seeiog nothing beyond

v Uomt.— l''roni ■ I

wing by V

their owu fixed path. After thia public recep-
tion and masking of circumstances, the king cal-
led Hyde aside into the garden, saying that they
need not now be afraid of being seeu together;
and he walked with hint in conaultation for a
full hour.'

Clarendon arrived ill Yorkshire at the end of
May ; on the Sd of June the ship Providenct,
freighted by the queen in Holland, escaped the
Earl of Warwick's cruisei's, and ran ashore on
the Yorkshire coast with aixteen pieces of artil-
lery and great Htore of arms and ammunition,
which had long been eipected by the royal party,
and the want of which had delayed the king's
design of attempting Hull by a siege. The can-
non, muskets, and gunpowder were all safely
landed and carried to York. At this crisis 'the
arrival of such a supply was of more consequence
in the eyes of Charles than the coming of a
great penman. Tlie parliament, however, by this
time began to be excited and convulsed by the
great defection that was taking place, particularly
among the lords. On the 30th of May they, by
an order, summoned nine peers, the first that
had gone away to York, to ap)>ear at Westmins-
ter. These nine jjeers utterly refused to quit the
king, returning a slighting and scornful answer

I to the parliament. The commons instantly took
I their resolution, and on tlie ISth of June sent
Denzil Hollis up to the House of Lords to im-
peach the whole of them. In an eloquent speech
Hollis dwelt upon the history of the earlier parts
of this reign; showed that it had ever been the
policy of the covut "to strike
. . — ^__ at parliaments, keep off par-

liaments, break parliaments,
or divide pai-liamenU." "A
new ploC said HoUis, "is
this : the members are drawn
away, and persuaded to for-
sake their duty, and go down
to York, thereby to blemish
the actions of both houses, as
done by a few and inconsider-
able number, a party rather
than a parliament, and per-
hape to raise and set up an
anti-parliament there. My
lords, this is now the great de-
sign against thia parliament,
which ia the only means to
continue us to be a nation of
freemen, and not of slaves, to
linn, ITM t" owners of anything; in a

word, which must stand in the
gap to prevent an inlet and inundation of allmisery
and confusion." He then, in the name of alt the
commons of England, impeached of high crimes
and misdemeanours, Spenser, Earl of Northamp-
ton, William, Earl of Devonshire, Henry, Earl of
Dover, Henry, Earl of Monmouth, Charles, Lord
Howard of Charleton, Robert, Loitl Rich, Charles,
Lord Grey of Ruthven, Thomas, Lord Coventry,
and Arthur, Lord Capel. The lords that i-emained
made little or no attempt to screen the lords that
had fleil ; and, shortly after, " being in their
robes," tiiey aiijudged the fugitives never to sit
more as memliers of that house, to be incapable
of any benefit or privileges of parliament, and to
suffer imprisonment during their pleasure. On
June 2d the lords and commons sent a petition
to the king with nineteen propositions, as the
basis of a treaty of concord and lasting peace.
They demanded that the king should dismiss nil
Buch great otiicers and ministers of state as were
not approved of by both Houses of Parliament,
and that an oath should be taken by all future
members of the privy council; that the great
affairs of the kingdom should nut be transacted
by the advice of private men or by any unknown
or unsworn counsellors ; that he or they unto
wliom the government and education ctf the king's
children were committed should be ^proved of
by both houses; that the church government and
Liturgy should undergo such a reformation as
both Houses of Parliament should ndvise; that

»Google

618

niSTOltY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

. AND UlLlTART.

hit roajestj should contribute liis beat aaaislauce
for the r&iaiDfc of a sufficient iDaioteDance for
preaching miuisters throughout the kingdom, and
give his consent to lawa for the taking away of
innovations, Baperstitions, aud pluralitiea; that
he should rest satisfied with the course that the
lords and commons had taken for ordering of the
luilitia nntil the same should be further settled
by a bill; that such members of either House of
Parliament as had, during this present parlia-
ment, been put out of any place and office, might
either be restored to that place and office, or
otherwise have satisfaction for the same upon
the petition of that house of which tliey were
members; that all privy counsellora and judges
should take an oath for the maintaining of the
Petition of Right, and of other wholesome sta-
tutes made hy this present parliament ; that all
the judges, and all the officers appointed by ap-
probation of parliament, should hold their places
during good behaviour ; that the justice of par-
liament should be left to take its course with all
delinquents, and that all persons cited by either
house should appear and abide the censure of
parliament; that the forts and castles of the king-

dom sliould be put under the command and cus-
tody of such persona as his majesty should ap-
point, wi(A Me appreciation of pariiamgtU; that
the extraordinary guards aud military forces novr
attending his majesty should be removed and
dischai^ed, and that for the future he should raise
no such guards or extraordinary forces, but, ac-
cording \a the law, in case of actual rebellion or
invasion, &c., &c.'

Charles, with lords about him, with arms aud
gunpowder, and with the prospect of more from
Holland, thought himself as strong as the parlia-
ment: hu received these propositions with great
indignation, and, in replying to them, he taxed the
parliament as cabaliste and traitors, as the maken
of uew laws and new constitutional doctrines ;
and in the end he told them that their demands
were unworthy of his royal descent from so many
famous ancestors, unworthy of the trust repooed
in him by the laws ; protesting that, if he were
"both vanquished and a prisoner, in worse con-
>u than the most unfortunate of his prede-
or? bad ever been reduced to, he would never
1 stoop to grant those demands, and make himself,
■ from a King of England, a Doge of Venice.

CHAPTER XIV.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1642—1644.

CHARLES I.

le Huon of war coiamsnCH—Chftrlei Uviea fiirce* — The parliament fotlovi the example — Th* fleet joint the
parliameDt— Tha parliamantar; militarj cxunmuidsn— Hampden and hii regiment— Pragr^ of tlia miutars
on aither aide — Praliminary ikirinithes— Huatile Dianifeito«~Dr. Baitwick taken prisoner — Hii uarmw
esoape from eiecution — Ploti of tba royaliatt to nirprise Hull — Tbay are UDiDCcenfuL— Charles ereoti faia
ttandard— Hii uniaccanful attempt on Coventry— Fruitless overtures for negotiation— frinoe Bnpert'i early
proeaediogi in tha rojaliat cause— FroclBmatJone of Charles — Their insincere chiricter— Hii mode of raising
supplies— En con nten of tha rival partial — Battle of Edgebill — Psrlieular movements of the tonBiet — It*
iadecisive termination— Charles walconnd Id Oifonl— Ovarturaa for an accommodation batvaen the king and
parliament — It is broken by the rojalists — Military blunders of the parliament army — The queen arrives with
ninforcainants to tbe royalists — Waller's cooBjiiTaey— Plot detected to deliver Bristol to the royf lists— Princ*
Bnpert's attempt at ■ night snrpriae — Hii anoosnter with tha parliamant troops at Chalgrove Field- Death of
Hampden — Misfortunet to the partiamantaiy cauH — Skinniihes— London farti6ed against the kiag — Battle
of Newbury — Death of Lord Falkland — The parliament applies to the Scota for aid — Cooditiona on which
they grant it— Charles in like manner applies to IieUnd— The Earls of Montrose and Antrim content to aid
the king— The Irish issistance to the royalist oaose inetfectaal— Death of Pym— Meeting of the Weatminiter
Assembly of Divines — Their proceedings to aettle tbe govemmeat and form of worship of the Churgh of £iik-
land— A royalist pariiament convened at Oxford— Its speedy dinolutioa— Leslie and the Seola ooma to the
aid of the parliaoieutariaiis— Battle of Uanton Moor— Total defeat of the royalists.

NT)

when those long and tedious paper-
conflicts of declarations, petitions,
and proclamations were turned in-
to actual and bloody wars, and the
pens seconded by drawn awords."'
sent out commissions of array, begin-

ning with Leicestershire, and enjoined or invited
all men to bring him money, horses, and wins.

* In Chnlr sevvntaenth proposition, the pariiai
theoldandnoiiraiiiHiMlaiBiitteiinibjHtat ~ ~
ing tbe king that hia enl^eela wmild be i
UUH cleie PiDtHtaat alliances, and enablec
way to|iiehimild aod aatiitaasa la natarinf his nyal
and bar princely Imie to those dl^tise

»Google

A-D. 1842—1844.]

CHARLES r.

519

ou eecarity of hie forests and parka for the priit-
cipfil and eight per cent, interest. He forbade
all levies without his eoQBent, and called upon
hia suhjecta to be mindful of their oatb of al-
legiance, Bad faithful to his royal person. It
-waa now found that he hod a Btrong pai'ty in
the country: the church, the universities, the
majority of tbe nobles, and perhaps of the coun-
try gentleman— the loyaJty of the latter claaa
being generally great iu proportion to their dis-
tance from the court and their ignorance of court
life^rallied round him.' The austerity of the
Puritana' matinere, and their severe doctrine,
drove most of the ^y and diaaolute, and many
vho were gay without being dissolute, into his
party, which waa further strengthened by many
good, virtuous, and moderate men, who disliked
hia former condnct, who dreaded his tyrannical
dispoeition, but dreaded the untried democratic
violence still more. Nor was Charles wanting in
Bolemn proteatadons and assurances. To the lords
who had gathered around him at York, and to the
raembers of hia privy conncii there, he made a
short and comprehensive declaration of his just
and liberal intentions and tender regard for the
liberties of his people. And it waa upon this
express declaration that thoae lords contracted a
solemn engagement, and signed a bond to stand
by him, to defend his majesty's person, crown,
and dignity, with his just and legal prerogative,
against nil persons, parties, and powers whatso-

At the same time tlie partiaraent, declaring
all these measures to be sgoinat law aiid the na-
tional liberties, made their preparations with at
least equal vigour. On the 10th of June an order
was madii by both houses for bringing in money
and plate to maintain horse, hoi-semen, and arroa,
for jie preservation of the public peace, and de-
fence of the kin^t perton ; for the parliament,
down to the appointment of Oliver Cromwell to
the chief command, aJwaya joined this expres-
sion with that of their own safety. The two
houses engaged the public faith, that whosoever
■honid bring in any money or plate, or furnish
men or arras, should be repaid with eight per

cent, interest; and they appointed four trea-
surers, Sir John Wollastan, alderman of London,
Alderman Towes, Alderman Warner, and Alder-
man Andrewes, to grant receipts to the tenders,
and certain commiBsariefi to value the horaea and
arms which should be fnmiahed for the national
service. Forthwith a great mass of money was
heaped up at Guildhall, and daily increased by
the free contributions of the people. The poor
contributed with the rich. "Notonly the weal-
thiest citizens and gentleman who were near
dwellers brought in their large bags and gob-
lets, but the poorer sort, like that widow in the
gospel, presented their mites alao ; insomuch that
it was a common jeer of men disaffected to
the cause, tc call this the thimble and bodkin

Charles wrote a letter to the lord-mayor of Lon-
don, the aldermen and sheriffs, forbidding these
contributions, and inveighing bitterly against the
parliament. This letter waa wholly without ef-
fect, sa was an attempt made at the same time to
win over the fleet. Clarendon says that thia lat-
ter scheme only failed through a mistake or blun-
der of the king's agents ; but it appears evident
that the cause of its failure really was the devo-
tion of the captains and seamen to ths popular
cause. The Earl of Warwick, a great lover of
the sea-service and highly popular as a com-
mander, called a coancil of war, and laid before
his officers both the ordinance of parliament
which appointed him to the command, and the
letters of the king which required him to sur-
render that command to Sir John Feanington.
With tlie exception of Sve, all the sea-captaina
agreed with the earl that at this crisis the orders
of the two houses were more binding than those
of the sovereign, and that the fleet could not bo
put into the hands of Pennington without th«
greatest peril to the nation's liberties.

On the 12th of July, the parliament, thus mas-
tera of the navy, voted that an army should be
raised for the safety of the king's person and de-
fence of the country and parliament ; that the
Earl of Esses should be captain-general of this
army, and the Eiu-l of Bedford genei-al of the

' "IIiaiTiliit or chlfdiTicft bablnd It a mnn nlnibla id
ettmat. Tha oluTacta of knight (ndiullj lutatded In that
fmtlsDu: Knit iha onii di>tln(ul(h« Europnn ncigtr in t1

n high prfd« of birtb,
■nd fnling of Indflpendniov ajwH iinj HTBnfsn tar tbe dignity
it fft^fl ; A trmpathj tor martiftl hoooiLr, Ehongh nwre nibdned
br dTJl lubiU. ua Iha Uimmcnta nhich ptoTe iin Indlipalibla

EdwHil'i ksl^ta : knd tha iwnnblincs !• miuh looia itriklng,
U m aotoi to tha dill wui of tlie League. Time hni affised
EDDoh nUo of thia gentlamajilj, u It dLd bafoje of the cbiTalTuna
dunutar. From the Utter pait of (he aeTentnnth eantiiij.
fl> Tl(0Br and pniHj bmie imdaTtDDa ■ Mdl deenf, and jUMti,

iti7, lo loonuini eamiDtindiJ wmIUi,
ipjrtC of gMien] libartr In aoma,
■nd of Kivile oUeqnIonuiBB in otiun, the animtX Uh In gnat
dtin, and tha laTalllng outonu of mill lntaiamne.~— Hallun,
Hiilarj/df SaifatuI, Tol. lit. p. eiO. '

1 Thwe ue t^ oamca of thoaa who aaWcribad :— Th* Lord-
keepir LittletoD; Duke of Bichmond; Maniuie of Herttdcd:
EiTlaaf LIndii)', Cumtierlnnd, Hontingdon, Bath, Sootlmnp.
ton, Donet, galtibuir, NoRhampton, Deronalilie, Biiatol, Wat-
noreluid, Beriiihlre. Mcmtnimlli, Riien, Neirculle, Dorar,
CacinuvDn, Nawport; Lorda Kowbnjr and MaltnTar^ WU-
looghbrof Ecnbr, Biah.Charica Howard of Chaileton, Hevart,
Pagn, ChindDia, Falconbridga, Paule^ Idrelue. CoreDtrr,
Sntila, Hohnn, Diininion, BarnioiU', On? of KuthTO, Falk-
land, tha Domptrolln, Rccietary Vlcholaa, Sir Joha Colpaper,
Lord Chtaf-Julloe Bankt • M>^

,v Google

520

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil 4

) MlLITAKT.

home. They nppoiiiteii a coiuiuittee of both
houses to nssist the Earl of Essex, and to nomiD-
al« coloneln, field-othcers, and captaioB to this
arinj, " which, coueidering the long peace that
had prevailed in England, and the unprovided
state of the country in respect of military stores,
was not only raJBeil, hut alxo well armed, in a
short time." Many of the lords, who still sat in
the house ai Westminster, took com missions aa
colonels, under Essex, and many gentlemen of
the House of Commons of greatest mnk and
quality there, entered the service, some in the
cavalty, some in the common foot regiments.
Among these latter were Sir John Merrick, the
Lord Grey of Groby, Denzil Ilollis, Sir Philip
Stapleton, Bulstrode Whitelock, Sir William
Waller, and the excellent Hampden, who took
a colonel's commission, and went into Bucking-
hamshire to raise a regiment of infantry among
his own tenants and servants, friends and neigh-
bours. Hampden's r^ment was known by its
excellent appointments, its green uniform, and
its standard, which bore on one side the wateli-
word of the parliament, " God with us," and on
the other the patriot's own motto, " Va^iffia
nuUa rttrormm." This high-minded uomnioner,
who had been bred up in wealth and in peace,
and who had studied the art of war oidy in books,
presently became one of the best ofKcera in the
parliauieutary service, and he made his regiment
one of the very heat. He made himself tho-
roughly master of liis military duties, and, ac-
cording to Clarendon, he performed them upon
all occasions most punctually. "He watt," says
Clarendon, " of a personal courage equal to his
best pai'ta ; bo that he was an enemy not to be
wished wherever he might have been a friend,
and as much to be apprehended where he was so
■s any man could deserve to be."

Meanwhile the king was moving about from
place to place to gather forces, and draw over the
people. His coromission of array and the parlia-
ments ordinance of militia were jostling together
in nearly every county in England ; the gi-eatest
of the nobility upon both sides coming forward
personally to seiee upon those places which they
were appointed to look after either by the king
or hy the parliament. The one party held tlie
ordinances to be illegal, the other denounced the
royal proclamatious. Yet in some counties there
was no struggle at all, but one party wholly pre-
vailed from the beginning. Generally speaking,
the more commercial, more civilized and thriv-
ing districts were for the parliament; the more
remote, the less prospei-oiis, and less civilized
were for the king; hut this general rule had its
exceptions. In Lincolnshire the Ijord Willough-
by of Parham, who was appointed lord-lieutenant
by the parliament, raited the militia with great

vigour and success, and was foremost in securicg
the services of that portion of the army. In
Essex, the Earl of Warwick, whose care was Dot
confined to the navy, but who bad been also ap-
pointed lord -lieutenant, soon completed the levy
of militia, which was increased by volunteers in
uuusual numbers. In Kent there was cheerful
obedience shown to the ordinance of parliament.
In Surrey and Middtesei the militia waa nused
with enthusiasm. The eastern part of Sussex,
or all tliat portion which lay npon the sea, was
firm to the parliament, but the western part of
that county stood for the king under some lords
and members who had deserted the parliament.
The eastern counties of Suffolk, Norfolk, and
Cambridge were kept quiet from the beginning,
chiefly through the great wisdom and indefatig-
able industry of Oliver Cromwell, who had taken
h commission as colonel of horse. There, too,
many of the gentry rather inclined iu their affec-
tions to the king's commission of array ; but the
traders, the freeholders, and the yeomen in gene-
ral liked the ordinance, and the militia they raiaeil
was too strong to permit the otiier party to en-
gage in a war; those gentlemen that attempted
to raise men or provide arms for the king were
cnished at the beginning, and from first to last
one of the greatest supports of the parliamentary
cause was found in the county of Cromwell's birth.
In Berkshire the Earl of Holland, the parliament's
lord-lieutenant, raised the militia in spite of the
faint resistance of the Earl of Berkshire, the Lord
Lovelace, and others. Hampden fell apon t}ie
Earl of Berkshire soon after, made him prisoner
while engaged in Em attempt to seize the maga-
zine of arms, ammunition, &«,, gathered at Wat-
lington in Oxfordshire, and sent him up to the
parliament. Buckinghamshire, Hampden's coun-
ty, Has true almost to a man to the parliament.
The county of Southampton was divided at first,
and long continued to be so. In Derbyshire,
where many great lords and gentlemen dwelt,
not one of note stood for the parliament, except
Sir John Cell and his brother. Farther north
the king's party was very prevalent: the Enrl of
Newcastle kept the town of Newcastle with a
strong garrison for the king; and the Earl of
Cumberland, Charles's lord- lieutenant of York-
shire, actively pressed the commission of array,
although resisted by the Lord Fairfax and
other parliamentarians. In Lancashire the Lord
Strange, son to the Earl of Derby, whom Charlen
had appointed lord-lieutenant of Lancashin and
Cheshire, endeavoured to put in action the com-
mission of array, while Sir Thomas Stanley, the
Egertons, and othein, urged forward the ordi-
nance. Oil the ISth of July, Iy)rd Strange made
an attempt to gain Manchester; a skirmish en-
sueil, and one man was slain, " which," says May,

»Google

4.D. 1642-1644] CHAI

"was the finit blood abed in theiie civil w&ra."
Suiue time after Stronf^ returned to Manchester
with 3000 men, bat he wna beaten off, and that
time with coneiderable loaa. Nor was he more
BucceBsful in Cheshire, where Charles had joined
in commission with him the Bomau Catholio Earl
oflUvera. It wai in lAQcashire and Cbeahire that
the Papiata were most numeroas: in the grat
thej liept quiet, in Cheshire they wen disarmed
hj the parliameutariaDS. In the west of Eug-
Jand, especially in the extreme wast, the king's
party waa nnmerous. The most cousideiuble
skirmish that occurred before Charles's raising
his standard, was in Somenetshire, wher« the
Uarquis of Hertford was opposed bv the deputy-
lieuteuants of the county, and where ten men
were slain and many wounded.'

About the end of July the parliament had sent
a commission to the king, who was then at Be-
verley, to entreat him to forbear his hostile pre-
parations, and dismiss his garrisons. His reply
was, that they ought to lay down thpir arms first,
and be ordered this answer, which contained

many bitter reflections on their proceedings, to
be read in all churches. They replied, ordering
their answer to be read in churches and every-
where else. A few days after, Charles published
a declaration to all his loving subjects, concern-
ing the proceedings of this present parliament.
This paper occupied fifty large and close quarto
pages of print; it contained a kind of history of
all that had passed between him and the houses,
vowed a wonderful love to parliaments, but re-
quired that the Lord Kimbolton, and the five
members of the House of Commons before ac-
cused, and two other members, Mr. Henry Mar-
tin and Sir Henry Ludlow, should be given np
to the king's justice, Charles also desired to
have delivered up to him Alderman Pennington,
the new lotd-mayor of London,' and Captain
Venn, an officer of the city trnin-bSindB; and
he reqnired that indictments of high .trenAOU
should be drawn against the Earls of Essei, War-
wick, anil Stamford, the Lord Brooke^ Sir John
Hotham, and Sergeant-major-general Skippon,
as likewise against all those who should dare to
nuse the militia by virtue of the ordinance of
pariiament. The royal pen was, indeed, " very
quick upon all occasions;" and the day after the
publication of this long declaration, Charles sent
a message, upbraiding both bouses for borrow-

' Bir RIelanI Qiim
tlilitlnH>pn»n>Tl]
niKMd hi Uu pirU>
UtdflD, In w-iD,

}. th« IaU kird-iiujor of Londm, m
th< Tawnr. to vhinh ha hud b«D «
^t, AT t-n( . aonr of HUtloo b.

Z

to b« cried

D Uwcitr Hewiiputfr
of««t«rln(»r.>ffi«

in

LES L 521

ing a bum for their present uses out of a loaii
made by adventurers for reducing Ireland, and
affirming that they were the cause of prolonging
the bloody rebellion in that country. This was
turning upon parliameiit one of the heaviest ac-
cusations they bad made against the king. They
replied vehemently, and yet circumstantially,
calling to remembrance the many particulars of
their care for the relief of Ireland, and the many
instances in which the king had hindered it'

Chariea flattered himself that, if be could only
obtain possession of Hull, he might soon be un-
disputed master of all the north. A secret cor-
respondence was opened with Bir John Hotham,
who BO far departed from bis former line of con-
duct as to allow the royalists to entertain hopes
that he would betray the parliMnent and deliver
up that imporlAnt town. The king posted Lord
Undsay at Beverley, with 3000 foot and 1000
horse, to carry the place by siege, if Hotham
should not keep his engagement; and in the
meantime he himself visited other points; "and,
within three weeks, both in his own peraoo and
by his messengers, with speeches, proclamatjons,
and declarations, he advanced his buxiueas in a
wonderful manner. At Newark he made a speech
to the gentry of Nottinghamshire in a loving and
winning way, commending their affections to-
wards him; which was a great port of persuasion:
for the future, coming from a king himself. An-
other speech ha mtuie at Lincoln to the gentry of
that county, full of protestations concerning his
good intentions, not only to them, but to the
whole kingdom, the laws and liberties of it."*
From Lincoln Charles went to Leicester, whers
the Earl of Stamford was executing the parlia-
ment's nrdinance of the militia. He hoped to take
the earl in the fact, hut that nobleman fell back
upon Northampton, whither Charles durst not
follow him) for Northampton was a town so true
to the parliament, that it would have shut ita
gates against the kin);, aa Hull had done. The
kbg, however, seized that noted victim of land's
barbarity, I>r. Bastwick, who had taken a com-
ttliBsiou under the Earl of Stamford, and re-
mained doing his duty in levying men when his
genei-al beat a retreat. Charles would have had
him instantly indicted of high treason at the as-
sizes then sitting, but the judge entreated bia
majesty not to put a matter of so great moment
upon one single judge, hut to cause the law in
that ease to be declared by all the twelve judges.
The latter course, he said, might do his majesty
good, whereas the publishing of kit particular
opinion could only destroy himself, and nothing
advance his majesty's service. This judge also
expressed bis doubts whether any jury suddenly
sumroone^l at that moment would have courage

I •'■■'■■

in

>Uof.

,v Google

5S2

HISTORY OP ENGLAND,

[Crr

. Aim MiLTTAitr.

to find the bill; and upon this suggestion Cliarlea
gave np the idea of hanging, drawing, and quar-
tering the doct^ir, who hnd already been scourged,
pilloried, mutilated, and branded by Laud. There
is a great deal in this little transaction to show
that the eharacter of the king had undiirgone no
change. The night before his leading Leicester,
tlie judge and the gentlemen of the county, in-
cluding even those that were most loyal, waited
upon him with a request that he would liberate
the prisoner, or suffer the Judge to do so upon his
hahtiu corpiu. diaries told them "he would
think of it till the next morning;" aud in the
meimwhile he directed a messenger of the chnm-
ber very early, with sucli assistance as the sheriff
should give, to carry Bastwiuk away to Notting-
ham, and by the help of the sheriff there, to the
jail at York, all which was esecoted accordingly
with expedition and secrecy, for fear of a rescue.'
Returning to Beverley, Charles received a let-
ter from Lord Digby, who had returned from the
Continent in disguise, and smuggled himself into
Hull, where he had voluntarily discovered him-
self t« the governor for the purpose of tampering
with him. Rut now Digby, the daring and rest-
less head of the queen's faction, informed Charles
that he found Hotham much shaken in his re-
solution of delivering Hull — seeing, as Sir John
said, that his officers were of a temper not to he
relied upon, and his own son, the younger Ho-
tham, was grown jealous of
some design, and was counter-
working it. Presently after
this information, the king's
army, not eoufideDt of carry-
ing the town by open force, and
no longer counting on the trea-
chery of the governor, had re-
course to another plot; and,
knowing some men within the
walls fit for their purpose, they
arranged that Hull should be
set on fire in four several pla-
ces, and that, while the parlia-
ment soldiers aud inhabitants
were busied in quenching the
flames, 2000 men should assault
the walls. The signal to those K„tri

within the town, was to be a
fire lit in the night on Beverley Minster; but the
plot was discovered by one of the instruments, and
it BO provoked the townsmen of Hull that the
walls could not contain them; but 500 of them,
conducted hy Sir John Meldrum, made a sortie,
and fell fiercely upon the beleagiierers. The king's
Holdiers seemed inclined to fight bravely, but the
train-bands of that county were not forward to

he engaged against their neighbours, and horse

and font fled as fast as they could to Beverley.
Sir John Meldnim followed in their wake, killed
two, look thirty prisoners, and carried some im-
portant magazines whidi the king had placed
between Beverley and Hull, where again the
traln-liands and other Yorkshiremen, bearing no
great affection to that war, ran away and left
their arms behind them. The king now called a
council of war, wherein it was resolved to brca.k
up the siege of Hull and march away. Meldrum,
that fiery Scot, got back to Hull with a good
prize in amrouaition and arms ; hut the elder
Hotham, who was still wavering, and who evi-
dently wished to keep well with both parties,
safely dismissed to the king the Lord Digby nud
that other active servant of royalty, John Ash-
bumham.* Charles dismissed the train-bands,
and returned to York, in much leas credit than
when he came from thence. But his spirita were
revived by the news "that so notable a place aa
Portsmouth had declared tor liim, . . . and that
so good an officer as Goring was retumeil to Lis
duty, and in possession of that town." Here-
upon he published a declaration, in which he
recapitulated all the iiiaolent and rebellious ac-
tions of the two houses, forbidding all his sub-
jects to yield any obedience to wliut was no longer
a parliament, but a cabal and faction. And at
the same time he issued his proclamation require

loniH CASTLE.—Fitim a dnsing bj P. Sandbf.

ingall men that could bear arms to repair to him
at Nottingham by the 25th of August

" According to the proclamation,' proceeds tha
nohlehistorian,"upontlie2''ith day of August, the
standard was erected about six of the clock in the
evening of a very stormy and tempestuous day.
The king himself, with a small train, rode to
the top of the castle-liill, Vamey, the knight-

1 Mny; AiiiAirartA,- Clarvndanj tfarmtt.

»Google

A.D. 1642— 1644.] CHAR

inarahal, who was staniltird - bearer, cdirying the
standard, whicli was tbeu erected in that pluce
with little other ceremou; than the Bound of
drum* and trumpets. Melancholy men observed
manj ill presages about that time. There was
not one regiment of foot jet brought thither, so
that the truiU'bands which the sheriff had drawn
together were all the strength the king had for
hia p#r80u and the guard of the standard. There
nppeared no conflux of men iu obedience to the
proclamation ; the arms and ammunition were
not jet come from York, and a general sadness
covered the whole town. The standard was
blown down the same night it had been set up, by
a very strong and unruly wind, and could not be
fixed again in a day or two, till the tempest was
allayed. This was the melancholy state of the
king's affairs when the standard was set up."'

The kiu^B dejection of spirits was increased by
the fulure of an attempt which he had made two
or three days before upon the town of Coveiiti-y.
Learning that Hampden's regiment and some
other corps of parliamentarians were marcliing,
by order of the Earl of Essex, tii garrison Coven-
try, he had struck aside in that direction at the
head of his cavalry, amounting toabout 800 men,
not doubting that he should secure the (own,
provided only he could arrive before the parlia-
mentarian foot. But the people of Coventry,
like those of most manufacturing places, loved
their parliament and their Puritan preachers;
and, though he did arrive first, the gates were
shut in. his face and some shots fired from the

walla, by which some of his attendants were
wounded. He had then retired to Stoneleigh,
near Warwick, to pass the uight there; and in
the moraiug he had seen his horae iu an ojwn
plain decline giving comlmt to Hamf>den's foot,
and retreat before tliein without making a single

RuhworUi air* tl^' *>» •tudiwd <
>DtanUMlfith<rfA(i(iiB.bat(>iiib(liHU|h«<Mi'. :
dlAn Ln other ohuIIaLi-

:^ES I. 523

charge for the honour of arms. Discouraged,

hopeless, and wavering, the royalists at Notting-
ham proposed the king's immediate return to
York, conceiving that not even his person was
secure at Nottingham, as Essex was concentrat-
ing his forces at Northampton, where in fact that
earl soon saw himself surrounded by an army of
15,000 men, composed of substantial yeomen and
industrious burghers, the inhabitants of trading
and manufacturing towns. Charles would not
heiLf nf this retreat; and when some of his coun-
cil urged the expediency of ranking overtures for
an accommodation with his parliament, he was
so offended at the advice, that he declared he
woulil never yield to it, and hastily broke up the
council, that it might be no longer urged. The
next day ,however, the king yielded to the earnest-
ness of the Enrl of Southampton, who suggest«d
to his majesty that if the parliament should re-
fuse to treat, as it was thought they would, they
would render themselves odious to the people,
and thus dispose men to serve the king. It was
upon this plea that Cliarles reluctantly agreed to
seud the Earls of Southampton and Dorset and
Sir John Culpeper to London, on the third day
after raising the standard at Nottingham. Cul-
peper was very obnoxious in the capital, for be
was one of those who were considered as rene-
gades ; but all three of the king's messengera
were watohed very suspiciously, and all the an-
swer they could get was, that the parliament
would cuter upon no uegotiationa whatever until
the king should have taken down his standard,
and called in tliose proclamations by
which he had declared the Earl of Essex
and his adherents to be traitors, and
had put the two houses out of his pro-
tection, proclaiming their actions to be
treasonable. Another message was sent
from the king to the two houses: but,
on every ground, it was now hopeleea
to think of a peaceful arrangement ;
and Charles's nephew. Prince Rupert,
who had at last arrived iu England,
insulted all the royalists that still ven-
tured to recommend pacific measures.
This r«sh young man, who was instantly
appointed to the highest command, so
a excited some of the principal officers

with indignation at the thought of the
overture recently made to pariiament, that they
were well nigh offering personal violence to the
members of the council who had recommendeii
that measure. Rupert, whom the English people
soon learned to call "Prince Robber," was accom-
panieil by his younger brother, Prince Maurice,
and both " showed themselves very forward and
active."' Prince Rupert, the elder brother, and

»««,

,v Google

52t

niSl'ORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

D Military.

tlie more furious of t)ie two, villiin n. fortnight
nfUrbJHarrivulBt Nottingham took the command
of a small party and scoured through divers coun-
ties, hopiug to roll himself, like KBDow-balliintoa
larger bulk, hy the accession of recruits. He flew

rather tlinn marclied through parts of Notting-
hamshire, Warwickshire, Leicestei'shire, Worces-
tershire, and Cheshire, not so much inviting the
fieople by fair promises and kind demeanour, as
compelling them by extreme rigour to take bis
aide. It was upon this occasion, that the Ger-
man word plunder, was first used in England,
and adopted into the national language. The
proceedings of the followers of Rupert made its
meaning sufficiently intelligible.

Chai-les vainly loitered at Nottingham, few or
none joining his standard, or seeming likely to
do so, when Essex was at band with such a supe-
rior force. About the middle of September be
began to move towards the west of England,
where the Marquis of Hertford engaged to do
great things, and where several regiments were
actually raised for his service. Essei had ten-
dered to him the parliament's petition, praying
for his return to his capital, and for the disband-
ing of his army; bat Charles had refused to re-
ceive what he termed the insulting message of a
set of traitors. On his march westward the king
did not act like the fierce Rupert, but in a gentler
and calmer way. Between Stnffiird and Welling-
ton he halted hie troops, and, having caused bis
orders of the day to be read at the bead of each
corps, he advanced tn the front, and told the
mi'n for their comfort, that they slioidd meet no
enemies hut traitors, most of them Brownists,
Anabaptists, or Atheists, who would destroy both

church and commonwealth. He then made one
of his solemn protestations, imprecating the ven-
geance of Heaven upon himself and his posterity
if his intentions were not solely for the mainte-
nance of the true reformed Protestant religion
established in the Church of England, the laws
and liberties of the kingdom, and the just privi-
leges of parliament. He had already, at York,
issued a proclamation against Papists, forbidding
theraeortof any men of that religion to his camp:
and yet at this moment be was surrounded by-
Catholics, and on his way to meet many more.
His protestation and declaration only tended,
therefore, to confirm his reputation for habitnal
falsehood and duplicity; but at the same time we
cannot pass without reprobation the religious in-
tolerance of the parliament and the great mass
of the nation, which seemed in Charles's eyes to
render this double course necessary.' Clarendon
intimates that this conduct, and addresses of this
kind, had a wonderfnl efiect in increasing tlie
king's party; but Cfaarlea could not always ad-
here to the line of mildness and persuasion. In
part of his march he courteously summoned the
county train-bands to attend him and guard his
royal person; and when they were met, he ex-
pressed doubts of their loyalty, forcibly disarmed
them, gave their arms to others, and sent them
away. Besides, he levied contributions, or, to
use the quaint language of a contemporary, "he
got good sums of money, which, not without some
constraint, he borrowed from tbem." On the
SOtb of September he reached Shrewsbury, where
he was cordially received. With fresh protesta-
tions on his lipa that he would never suffer an
army of Papists to be raised, he wrote away to
the Earl of Newcastle in the north, bidding him
raise as many men as he could without any re-
gard to their religion;* and at this moment, or
a little later, he sent over to Ireland for Anglo-
Irish troops, or for troops of native Catholics.
Considerable quantities of plate were brought in,
both voluntarily and by force; and a mint hav-
ing been erected, money was struck with great
rapidity. The Catholics of Shropshire and Staf-
fordshire advanced the king ;£5000 in cash; a
country gentleman paid him £6000 for the title
of baron; and a few sums were secretly remitted
by his partizans in London.

In the meantime tlie Eari of Essex, having se-
cured the country round Northampton, put a
good garrison into Coventry, and taking jKasM-
sion of Warwick, struck off to the west, in order
to throw himself between the king and the capi-
tal, and get possession of the important city of
Worcester. Prince Rupert and a detachment of
the parliamentarians had a struggle for the [>■»-
sesoion of Worcester, before Essex, whose move-

' ««!*««*.■ Uof. ' Sir Onuj Biit.

»Google

AD. 1042— IftM.] CHAR

ineDtoweregenerfdl; slow anil fomwl, could come
up. CoIoQ«l Sandys, a gnjlant officer, fell in
charging Rupert up a narrow lane, but in the eod
the prince was driven from the town and acrow
the bridge, leaving twenty dead oud thirty pri-
■onera behind him. Eaaex appeared almoat im-
mediately after this fight, and took an assured
poBaMsioa of Worcester ; Prince Rupert rode
l«ck to the king. For three weeks Eieez lay at
Worcester doing nothing. Encouraged by this
strange inaction, and by his own great Bx^^aaion
of men, arms, and money, Charles quitted Shrews-
bury on the 20th of October, with the intention
of tnming Essex's army, nod marcbtDg straight
npon Ixiudon by Wolverhampton, Birmingham,
and Kenilworth. Essex, it appears, was wholly
ignorant of his movements till the king had got
behind him ; but he then followed with some
alacrity, and entered the village of Keinton, in
Warwickshire, on the 2Sd, the same evening that
the royalists halt«d at Edgehill, a very little in
advance. Cliarles, by the advice of a council of
war, resolved to turn round and face his pursu-
ers, who, in their late and sudden movement, had
left whole regiments behind them.

On the following morning, Sunday, the 23d of
October, when Essex looked towards Edgehill,
be saw that the royalists had not retreated, but
were there drawn up in order of battle. He pre-
sently arranged his own forces, placing the best
of his field-pieces upon his right wing, guarded
by two re^ments of foot and some horse. But
the parliamentarianH liked not to charge the
royalists up hill, and the royalists seemed deto^
mined not to qnit their advantageous position.
It might well be, too, that other coDBidenLtions,
apart from merely military ones, imposed a long
and solemn pause. But whatever were the causes
'of the delay, it is certain that the two annies
spent many hours in gazing at each other — long
hours infinitely more trying than the heat and
hurry of actual combat to the spirits of men, par-
ticularly to men newly, and for the far greater
part for the first time in their lives, under amis.
Charles was ou the field in complete armour. He
had retained to himself the title of generalissimo,
naming the Earl of Lindsay (a brave and expe-
rienced old soldier, who in former times had been
the comrade of Easex in the foreign ware), chief
general under him; but Lindsay, disgusted with
the petulance and impertinence of Prince Rupert,
regarded himself as only a nominal chief, and
took his place, pike in hand, at the bead of bis
own regiment. Sir Jacob Astley was major-ge-
neral under the Earl of Lindsay. Prince Rupert
commanded the right wing of the horse, and
Lord Wilraot the left, and two reserves of horse
were commanded, the one by Lord Digby, and
the other by Sir John Byron. The royalists ex-

:.ES I. 52.^

seeded the pari iamentaL-iuna in total number and
in horse, but Essex had the better train of ai«il-
lety. Pike in hand, Essex advanced into the
broad plain at the foot of Edgehill, called the
Tale of the Red Horse — "a name," says May,
"BuilAble to the colonr which that day was to
bestow upon it — for there happened the greatest
part of the encounter." At last about two o'clock
in the afternoon, the Earl of Essex commanded
bis artillery to fire upon the enemy. The roy-
alists presently replied witA their cannon, and
"the great shot was exchanged for the space of
an hour or thereabout.' Then the royalists be-
gan to descend the hill, and their main body of
foot surrounding the king's standard, advanced
within musket-shot. The parliamentarians made
a charge to break them and seize the standard,
but they were repulsed. Then Prince Rapert
with his cavalry charged the left wiug of the
parliamentarians, broke it, aud pursued it as far
as the vilUge of Keinton, where his men took to
plundering instead of thinking of the main body
which they had left Though their left wing
was thus broken, the right wing of the parlia-
mentarians was intact, and a charge from that
quarter, under Sir William Balfour, was so suc-
cessful, that the king's artillerymen were driven
from their guns, and several of the cannon spiked.
After this brilliant chai^, Sir William Balfour
fell back upon the main body, whence the Earl
of Essex advanced two regiments of foot to attack
the mass of infantry which surrounded the royal
standard. This body of royalists stood firm,
and fought mint gallantly; but presently Bal-
four came up with his horse, turned them, and
attacked them in the rear, while some other
squadrons of parliamentarians threatened them
in fiank; and then the royalistB broke and ran
back towards the hill. The Earl of Lindsay, the
nominal general-in-chief under the king, was
mortally wounded and taken prisoner. The par-
liamentarians took many colonrs, and Lieutenant
Middleton seized the royal standard and car-
ried it to the Earl of Essex, who delivered it t«
his secretary, Mr. Chambers, who suffered it to
be taken from him, and so "privately conveyed
away." The royalists, however, rallied on the
hill top, and kept np a fire till nightfall. Ru-
pert returned with his sword red with English
blood, with his horaes loaded with plunder; but
he found the king's left wing broken, and the
centre in the greatest confusion, nor could he
recover his poaition on the right wing without
sustaining a terrible charge from the parliamen-
tarian horse, led on by Sir Philip Stapleton.'

Jiputi.

[ ind hli tx* » tioBH, tt)

ontnrr to lU dtoetiOiM of

»Google

626

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

tc-

. AKD MlUTART.

Easez retiuned pCHSesaioa of the ground wliiuh
hip eiteniiea liad chosen to fight upon — ttie Vale
of the Red Horse — during tlie night ; but the
rujHliats did not move from the tup of the hill,
where thej* made great fires all the night long.
Great military faults bad beeu committed on
both sideB, bat there was certainly no deficiency
of courage on either. The Hubitautial yeomen,
the burghers, the artigans, were new at the bloody
game; but in thia first great encounter they taught
the Cavaliers to respect the ralour of the "thim-
ble and bodkiu' army. There Is a greatTariety
of stAtementd as to the actual number of the
slain ; but taking a medium calculation, it ap-
})eara that 4000 men lay dead that night in the
Yale of the Bed Horse. The loss of the royalists
was greater than that of the parliamentarians, and
Charles lost many distinguiahed officers, while
EflBez lost only two colonels, the Lord St. John
and Colonel Walton.

On tl)e following morning the parliamenta-
rians were reinforced by three regiments com-
manded by Hampden, Denzil Hollis, and Lord
Willoughljy. Leaving some troops on the hill-
top to mask their retreat, the royalists began to
move off as fast aa they could. Uampden, Hol-
lis, Stapleton, and other members of parliament
commanding militia regiments, urged Essex to
follow up tlie king and renew the battle; but the
militaty men by profession—the officers who had
served iu regular wars on the Continent — thought
that enough had been done by an army of re-
cruits, and that it would be wiser lo accustom
the men by degrees to warfare, and not to risk
everything at once. The king marched to Ban-
bury, and summoned it ; and though about 1000
parliamentarians were in the town, they surren-
dered to him apparently without a blow, '

Cliarlea then proceeded to Oxford, where he
was welcomed by the university, which was en-
thusiastically loyal from the beginning. "Then,
too, many of the greatest gentlemen of divers
counties began to consider the king as one that
in possibility might pruvu a conqueror, and many
of those who before had stood at gaze ssneutraJ, in
hope that one quick blow might clear the doubt,
and save tliem the danger of declaring them-
selves, come in readily and adhered to that side
where there seemed to be least fears and greatest
hopes." The Csvaliere that flocked to Oxfortl
were genendly well mounted, and this allowed
Charles greatly to reinforce the cavalry under
his nephew. Issuing from Oxford, Prince Ru-
pert scoured the country, visited Abingdon, Hen-
ley, and other towns, and returned with great

booty. Within a few days he made still nearer
approaches towards London, penetrating as far
as Staines and Egham. The parliament and
the city of London were thrown into constema-
tjon, but they provided with spirit for their de-
fence. Trenches were dug, and ramparla thrown
up ronnd the capital ; seamen were embarked in
boats and small vessels, and sent up the river;
forces were detached to possess and fortify Wind-
sor Castle. The train-twinds of London, Middle-
sex, and Surrey were concentrated, and kept con-
tinually under arms. Associations of counties
for mutual defence had already been allowed and
recommended by the two houses, and those bonds
were now drawn closer at the approach of dan-
ger. In the eastern conntiesthe association, which
had been mainly organized and directed by di-
ver Cromwell, was exceedingly formidable. The
parliament, taking notice that the king had, by
a formal commission, empowered Sir William
Gerrard, Sir Cecil Tnifford, and other Popish
gentlemen, to take arms with their tenants and
servants, resolved to strengthen themselves by
the Presbyterian interest, and applied to the
Scots for immediate assistance. Very varying
news blew hot and cold among the Londoners:
but at last, the Earl of Essex reached the neigh-
bourhood of London, with his' army in good con-
dition and disposition ; and quartering his men
aliout Acton, he himself (on the 7th of November)
rode into Westminster to give the parliament an
account of his campaign. It was clear to moat
men that Essex had been far from doing the best
that might have been done, but the two houses
wisely welcomed him, voted him thanks, and
presented him with a gift of /5000, aa an ac-
knowledgment of his care, puns, and valour.

The earl had scarcely arrived in the capital
when the king, quitting Oxford, marched upon
Reading. Mr. Henry Martin, one of the most
remarkable men in the House of Commons, com-
manded at this town ; but, considering the pUce
untenable with the forces he had with him, he
evacuated it at the king's approach, and fell back
upon London. Charles then advanced to Coin-
brook, where he was met by the Earl of North-
uniberland and three members of the House of
Commons, who presented a petition for an ac-
commodation. Charies seemed to receive their
address with great willingness, and he returned
them a fair and smooth answer, calling God to
witness that he was tenderly compassionate c^
his bleeding people, and so desirous of nothing
as for a speedy peace. The deputaUon, well
pleased, I'etumed to the parliament, where the
king's gracioua answer was read to both honsee.
Thereupon the Earl of Essex rose, and asked
whether he was now to pursue or suspend hos-
, tilities I Parliament ordered the earl to suspend

»Google

A.D. 1042— 1644.J CHAR

them, and despatched Sir Peter Killigrew to re-
quire a like ceuation on the part of the rojalUta,
not having, however, t}ie amtUleet doubt that
Charles would consider himself bound by his eU'
tertaining their propositions of an accommoda-
tion, and bj hia gracious message of the preced-
ing evening, to remain iu a. state of truce. But
Xilligrew was scarcely gone when the loud roar
of cannon was heard in the House of Lords. The
Earl of Essex niahed out of the bouse, mounted
his horse, and galloped across the porks in the
direction of the ominous aound. As he approached
Brentford the earl learned, to his aetonishment,
the trick which had been played. Prince Ru-
pert, closely followed by the king in person and
by the whole royal army, taking advantage of a
dense Novemtier fog, had advanced and fallen
□nexpectedly upon Brentford, which waa occu-
pied by a broken rej^ment of Colonel Hollis's,
" but stout men all, who had before done good
service at Edgehill.'' The royalists faacied they
should cut their way through Brentford with-
out any difficulty, get on to Hammeraraith, where
the parlinmeut's train of artillery lay, and then
perhaps tnke Iiondon by sudden night assault.
But Hollis's men opposed their passage and stop-
ped their march so long at Brentford, that the
galUnt r«^nients of Hampden and Lord Brooke
had time to come up. These three regimenta, not
without great loss, completely barred the road;
and, when Essex, who bad gathered a consider-
able force of horse as he rode along, came to the
spot, he found that the royalists had given over
the attack, and were lying quietly on the wes-
tern side of Brentford. Charles had kept him-
self safe at Hounslow, and there he lay that
night. "All that night," says May, "the city of
LtHidon poured out men towards Brentford, who
eveiy hour marched thither; and all the lords
and gentlemen that belonged to the parliament
army were there ready by Sunday morning, the
14tli of November." The city bands had marched
forth cheerfully under the command of Major-
general Skippon, who enjoyed the entire confi-
dence of parliament and the extraordinary favour
of the Londoners.' Essex found himself in the
course of this Sunday at the head of 24,000 men,
who were drawn up in battle array on Turuham-
green.* Hampden, with his brave men of Buck-
inghamshire, b^an to make a detour with the

ntj tiDDpl. th( mart amimt of which wan. of mnina. lU Fuii-
tuu. On tfali oocHlon WhiUlook ull> iia Ui ipaeeh wu to
thU affect: — "Com«, nij bojv, my brmta bc?i. lat ua pnj
bnitllf , and Sjht hranitf. I will run thi aamn fbrtnaaa uul
huarda with jaa. Rtmnober Iha cbhh Ii lor Ooi, and far Ihs
HiftpQa of rounelTfla, joar wl»«, and abildrvn, C«ne, my
hmst, bnie bayi, pray heaitUy, and ll(ht htutilj, and Ood
will blaa na " "Thua," csonllnuaa Whltslocli, "hs irnit all
alone 'Itta Uw loldlan, tatking to Uiam. •omtiUHa with one

-.£S I. 527

intention of falling upon the king's rear, while the
rest of the parliamentaHans should attack him
in front and turn his flanks; but they had scarcelv
marehed a mile, wlien Sir John Merrick, Essex's
major-general, galloped after them, and told
them that the general bad changed his mind as
to dividing his forces, and ordered them back.
Hampden and his green coats, exceedingly troub-
led, fell back accordingly. And thus, leaving
the king's rear unencumbered, tlie parliamenta-
rians stood at gaze, facing the royalists, but doing
nothing. At last it was consulted whether the
pariiament army should not advance and fall
upon the king's forces, as was advised by most
of the members of parliament and gentlemen
who were ofiiceni, " but the soldiers of fortune,
who love long campaigns as physicians love long
diseases," were altogether against it; and while
they were consulting, Charles drew ofi' his car-
riages and oi'dnance. Upon this there was an-
other consultation, whether the parliamentarians
should pursue. Again Hampden, Hnllis, all the
membera of parliament, all the gentlemen who
had become soldiers only tor their principles,
were for the Imlder course, and all the old sol-
diers of fortune, the men who had made war tlteir
regular trade and profession, were against it.
Charles, scarcely crediting his good luck, got safe
to Kingston, and crossed the bridge there with-
out opposition, and without ammunition enough
in his own army to have lasted a quarter of an

The parliament, indignant, voted that they
would never again have any treaty or truce with
the king; yet at the opening of the following
year (1643) they entertained more pyiitic notions,
and in the month of March they begun a hope-
legs treaty at Oxford, where Charles was lying in
great strength. Their principal demand was that
the king should disband his army, and return
to his capital and parliament, leaving delin-
quents to trial, and IVpists to be disarmed ; that
he should pass a bill for aliolishing bishops, and
such other bills as should be presented for refor-

When the negotiations had been wire-drawn
through several weeks they ended in nothing.
They had never interrupted the progress of hos-
tilities; and the warlike operations in the inter-
val had, on the whole, heea favourable to the
parlismentarians. Beading was taken by the
Eai4 of Essex. Then Hampden,everthepropoeer
or advocate of bold measures, recommended the
immediate investing of Oxford, hoping to finish
the war at once by the capture of Charles and

Dompuny, amatiiiKe to anotha ; and the loldien ■eamed to be

• MiHhmrtI:- May; Imttoc flamln: I

,v Google

528

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[ClVILA

J UiuTAitr.

hia court. Clarendon coufeeaes that, if this tnea^
eure had beeu adopted, it could scarcely liave
failed of success; but agaio the Earl of Essex
objected, and consulted hia professional officers,
who agreed in representin); the enterprize aa too
hazardous. The king, who had alrrady delibe-
rated resjiecting a retreat into the north, took
fresh courage.

Tlie queen had arrived iu Burlington Bay,
where the Earl ot Newcaatle met her with his
army to conduct her to York. She remained four
months in Yorkshire, strengthening and inspirib-
ing the royalist party. Again overtures
made to Sir John Hotham iu Hull; and the Earl
of Newcastle was ao conuderably reinforced, that
Lord Fairfax, the general for parliameut in the
north, could scarcely make head against him
fierce war of outposts ensued between these
comniandera; and Sir Thomas Fairfax, then a
young man and general of the horse to his fathei
began to acquire in this service that military skill
and experience which subsequently rendered him
one of the best officers iu England, By tha month
of May Henrietta Maria was enabled to send i
and ammunition to lier husband at Oxford, who
had for Home time been lying inactive for want
of gunpowder. Charles then prepared to act,
but, that he might commence a sanguinary cam-
paign with peaceful professions, he sent a mes-
sage to the parliament to speak again of accom-
modation. The lords, or that minority of them
which remained in London, received his mes
with respect : the commons threw his measenger
into prison and then impeached the queen of
high treason. Pym carried up the impeachment
to the lords, "where it stuck many months."
About this time a conspiracy was discovered,
headed by Waller the poet, who had been for
some Ume in secret communication with Lord
Falkland, now the king's secretary. The main
objects of it were to seize the peiaons of the lead-
ing membera of the Eouae of Commons, and de-
liver up the city of London to Charles. A jury
in Guildhall found a verdict of guilty agaiurt all
the prisoners. Challoner, and Tomkins, who was
brother-in-law to Waller, were hanged ; three
others were reprieved and eventnally saved by
the mercy of parliament; and Waller, the chief
of the conspiracy, after a year^ imprisonment in
the Tower, was, upon payment of /lO.OOO, "re-
leased to go travel ahroad."'

About the same time, in the busy month of
May, the commons unanimously took a solemn
vow never to consent to lay down tlieir arms so
long ni the Papists in open war against the parlia-
menlshould be protected from the justice thereof,
made a new great seal, and passed tJie act for an
assembly of divines to settle rciitrion. Cimmis-

sionerswere E^ipointed to execute the office of
lord-keeper, and the first day that the seal waa
brought into play, which was not until seveml
montliB after, no fewer than 000 writs were passed
under it. An important plot had also beeu dis-
covered at Bristol, where Robert Yeomana, late
sheriff, William Yeomans, his brother, and some
other royalists, bad engaged to deliver that city
to the king's forces under the command of Prince
Rupert. Colonel Fiennes, the governor, son of
the Lord Say and Sela, discovered this plot in
good time, apprehended the conspirators, and
Invnght them to trial before a council of war,
which condemned four of them to the gallows.
The king interfered to save their lives, felling
the governor of Bristol that if he preaumed to
execute any of them he (the king) would do the
same by four prisoners taken in rebellion and
now at York. Governor tlennes replied, that
the laws of nature among all men, and the laws
of arms among aoldiers, made a difference be-
tween open enemies and secret spies and conspi-
rators. Fiennes also threatened to retaliate upon
royalist priaonei's in his hands.' The king or-
dered the mayor of Bristol to hinder the mur-
der of his loyal subjects, but Fiennes forthwith
hanged Bobert Yeomans, tha chief conspirator,
and one George Bourchier. Luckily the king did
not retaliate as be had threatened. But before
this correspondence took place, Charles had been
obliged to acknowledge the laws of war, and to
treat his prisoners not aa captured rebels, but aa
soldiers fighting with a sufficient commiasion.

By means of the aupplies which he had re-
ceived from the queen, Charles was enabled to
renew active operations; and Prince Rupert and
the cavalry during the month of June awept the
whole country between Oxford and Bath on one
side, and on the other, where Essex's lines were
too much extended, broke through and pillaged
in Berkshire and in Buckinghamshire. At this
time Colonel Hurry, or Urrie, one of the lord-
general's aoldiers of fortune, deserted to the king,
and informed Prince Rupert that tu'o parliiunent
regiments, detached and open to attack, lay at
Wycombe. The prince resolved upon a night
attack. OnSaturday, the 17th of June, about four
o'clock in the afternoon, hia trumpets soundetl
through the streets of Oxford to boot and aad-
dte ; and in less than half an hour his cavalry
crossed over Magdalen bridge, and, being joined
by some infantry, pushed ou rtqiidly towards the
parliament country. They were 8000 men, hut
they were allowed to pass within two or three
miles of Thame, where Essex now lay with the
main Ixxly of the parliament army, without inter-
ruption or challenge. Tliey crossed tlie Cberwell
at ChiselhamptoD bridge, and, stealing through

»Google

JL..D. 1642—1644.] CHAT

the woodlands nbout Slokenchurch, the; got to
th« quiet little hamlet of Poat«ombe at about
three o'clock iu the morning. There, apparently
to their aurprise, thej found a troop of horse,
who mounted, and, after a slight ekirmiah, re-
tired la good order, beating up the people, and
giving the alarm to other pickete and outpoata.
Thereupon, instead of pushing forward to the
two r^pmenta at Wjrcombe, Rupert turned aside
with his whole force of c&yalry
to Chinnor, where he slaugh-
tered some fiftj parliamenta-
tians, and drafted away half
naked at the horses' sides about
sizscore prisonera. The aun
now rose, and a partj of the
parliament's horae appeared on
the aide of the Beacon-hill, It
was led on by the patriot Hamp-
den, who had slept that night ''
at Watlington, in the ueigh-
bourfaood, and who had vainly
urged Essex the day before to
slrengthen his line by calling
in the remote pickets from Wy-
combe, PoBtcombe, and Chin-
nor, On the first alarm of Bu- H
pert's night irruption he de-
spatched a ti-ooper to the lord-general at Thame,
advimng him to detach a force of infantry and
cavalry to Chiselhampton bridge, the only point
at which the royalists could recross the Cberwell.
And, this done, Hampden instantly rode with a
troop of Captain Sheffield's horse, and some of
Gunter's dragoons, to keep the royalists in play
till the slow Essex should have time to come up
or send his column to Chiselhampton bridge. A
sharp encounter presently took place on Chal-
grove-field among the standing com. The par-
liamentarians were checked and thrown into con-
fusion, and Major Ounter was slain. Hampden,
who expected every moment to see the head of
Essex's column, rode up to rally and support the
disordered horse of Qunter; and, putting himself
at the head of a squadron, he charged Rupert's
right But as he was spurring up to the roya-
lists, be was struck in the shoulder with two
carabine balls, which broke the bone and entered
his body. The reins fell from bis disabled arm,
and with his head bent in agony over his horse's
neck, he turned away from tiiat fatal charge.
His friends then fell into disorder, and, looking
in vain for the tardy Essex, they commenced a
retreat, leaving many officers and men dead on
the field. Rupert pushed on for Chiselhampton
bridge. There was no Essex there, nor any troops
of his sending. The royalists recroased the Cher-
well, and hurried back with their prisoners and j
booty to Oxford. Meauwhile Hampden was accn I
Vot. 11.

LES I. 529

riding off the field before the action was quite
over. At first he moved in the directiou of his
father-in-law Simeon's house at Pyrton, where
he had in his youth married the first wife of his
love, and whither he would fain have gone to die;
but Rupert's cavalry covered the plain iu that
direction, and so he turned his horse's head and
rode towards Thame. Fainting with pain, he
reached Thame, and was conducted to the house

of one Ezekiel Browne. The surgeons at first
gave him hopes of life, but he felt himself that
his hurts were mortal The pain of the wounds
was excruciating, yet he almost immediately oc-
cupied himself in writing letters to tlie parlia-
ment. He again sent to bead-quartera, earnestly
to recommend the correction of those military-
errors to which he bad fallen a sacrifice; to im-
plore Essex to conoentrat« his army so as t« cover
London and set at defiance the flying iucuraiona of
Rupert's horse. After nearly six days of suffer-
iug, he felt that the weakness aud decay of the
body were prevaihng over the strength of his
soul, and he prepared to die like a Christian.
He expired on the S4th of June, with a prayer
upon his li)iB for his country, aud was buried a
few days after in the parish church of Hampden.
His gallant greencoats — one of the best regi-
ments that as yet bore arms for the parliament
— bare-headed, with their arms reversed, their
drums and enugns muffled, followed him to the
giave, singing the 90th Psalm. And when those
hardy soldiers had seen the dust heaped upon
him who had been the friend of all of them from
their youth upwards, they returned chanting a
more hopeful strain, calling upon the Ood of

»Google

H (STORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil. ASH MiLiTABr.

their streiigtli to plead tlieir cause, to send out I ciioiiii advantages in the fi«ld. At th

hia light and truth, aud prevent their Boul from
being disqiiieteil.' Never in the memory of those

times bad there been so generaJ a. conatentatioD
und sorrow at any one man's death as that wiUi
■which the tidings were received ia London, and
by the friends of the parliament all over the land.

Other misfortunes came thick upon the parlia-
ment. On the 30th of June the Earl of New-
cHstle entirely defeated Lord Fairfax and hia son
Sir Thomaa, nt Atherton Moor; while, iu the
meantime, he had opened a secret correspondence
with the Hothams, who had conceived a great
jealousy of the younger Fairfax. The Uothiuna
agreed to shut out the Fairfaxes, and to admit
Newcastle, who was to garrison Hull for the king.
But some membera gune<) timely intelligence of
this dangerous plot, seized tlie two Hotlioms, fet-
tered and chained theni, and put the i<ord Fair-
fax into the town. A few months sfter they
were tried BJid convicted of high treason; and
both father aud son were executed ou Tower-LiU,
at the beginning of January, 1644.

Oliver Cromwell, marching at the head of 1000
horse of his own raising, gained several conspi-

ht nMfDf 'pUix of Hunp-

he put a new life into the dispirited levies of the
parliament, aud with their assistance he gained
a brilliant victory near Grantham, The parlia-
ment waa not so aucDeasful iu the west, where Sir
William Waller w»« defeated near Devizes. And
shortly after this Piince Rupert, who had many
correeptHidents and friends within that town,
fell upon Biiftol with all his fury, Nathaniel
Fiennes,the parliamentary governor, waa a better
debat«r in the house than military commander,
ikiid he surrendered Bristol after a aiege of only
threedaya. For this he was afterwards sentenced
by a council of war to lose his life, but he was
pardoned by the Earl of £«ei. Elieter, whither
the queen had retired to be delivered of a daugh-
ter, was strongly fortified, and the wild and honly
men of Cornwall were furiously loyal. The only
strong place iu the west which held out for the
partiameut was the city of Olouceeter, wherein
lay for some weeks the whole fortune of the war.
In her way from the north, the queen, bringing
very coiiBiderable reiufmcements, among whom
were many French aud Walloons, hail passed
through Oxford, and spent some time there with
her husband. At this moment it was ^>pr«-
hended that Charles would moke another attempt
upon the capital, and the Londonera set them-
selves to work to fortify the citj. "The example
of gentlemen of the best quality, knights and

ladiea, going out with drums beating and spades
and mattocks in their hands to assist in the
work, put life into the drooping people;"' ^ud in
nn incredibly short spnce of time eiitrencliments.

»Google

A.D. 1642—1044.] CHAR

twelve miles in circuit, were thrown up rouud
London. Upon thia, Charles, inatead of advan-
cing into tlie eoutki, struck awa; to the weat, to
Iaj eiege to Gloucester. Staex soon followed him
to relieve that important placs; and, by tM ad-
mirably (»iiducted march, lie got from Hounalow
to Olouoester just in time to save that city.

Leaving a giMid garrison and all necessary sup-
plies in Gloucester, Essex turned back to recover
his position in front of London. This retrograde
march was as well conducted as the advance had
been, but, when he got near Newbury, he found
the king strongly posted there, and drawn up to
cut off hie retret^ A lierce battle
was the consequence. The parlia-
mentarian horee was aharply han-
dled and thrown into confosian,
but their excellent foot restored
the fortune of the day. "For,"
saya Clarendon, "though the kinj^s
horse made the enemy'a horae often
give ground, yet their foot were so
immoveable that little waa gotten
by the other." Night at last came
on, and separated the combatants.
During the darkness the royalists
removed their cannon and other
carriages to Donnington Castle,
and having lodged them there,
marched off towards Oxford. In
the morning Essex entered New-
bury, whence he proceeded with-
out opposition to Reading. In
the battle of Newbury, which waa
fought on the 20th of September,
Essex's men " were full of mettle;"
and the London recruits, the ap-
prentices, the artisans, and the
shopkeepers o( London, pai'ticu-
larly diatinguiahed themaelvea.'
The parliamentarians lost some
500 men and very few officers: the
king lost treble the number of men
and many officers of rank ; but the
greateat loss of all was eatimnted Uihh Ft

to be that of the accomplishetl
Lord Falkland, then Charles's secretary of atate,
who was struck with a musket ball, and died ou
the field, only three montha after the death of his
opponent, but once bosom friend, Hampden.

Thia young nobleman was too remarkable a
person to be dismissed with a mere passmg notice.
Lucius Carey, the second who bore the title of
Lord Viacouut Falkland, waa bom about the
year 1610, and was the son of that Sir Robert

oftoi cbargvl b^ both han» feiid (bat, but it'nd to it witli v
■UoutHl nKdutlon. Ctumdon ps^a Iha •uiw coiupLlmn
■Utlsi that tU SmBx'i liwt bnb*T«d tJtgmHln* odniinbl;.

.ES L 531

Carey who posted to Edinburgh with such sellish
haste to communicate the tidings of the death of
Elizabeth,' for which Jaraea rewarded him with
the Scottish title of nobility. Even as if in boy-
hood he had anticipated the shortness of hia ca-
reer, the yonth of Lucius, Lord Falkland, was
diatinguished by precocioiia intellect and remark-
able literary attainments, eo that his beautiful

mansion near Burford, within

ten miles of Ox-

ford, waa a sMt of college in m

niature.from tlie

learned men who frequented 11

and the iutellec-

tual intercourse with which

t waa pervaded.

Here, ah»o, he is said to have

assisted Chilling-

worth, who was hla guest, iu the
composition of his distinguished
workagainst Popery. Rich, young,
and unambitious, he would have
preferreil his beloved studious se-
clusion; but when the pressure of
events earned him into public life,
he was distinguished by the moral
force of his character and unim-
peachable purity of his proceed-
ings, so that lie was regarded by
both parties in parliament with
affection and reverence. At first
he sided with the opposition ista
of Charles and Laud; but appre-
hensive that the popular party
aimed at nothing short of the aub-
version of monarchy, he adopted
the cause of the king, by whom he
was appointed secretary of state.
It waa a painful position for one
whocouldastittleaymiMithlzewith
the crooked policy and king-craft
of Charles, ne with the recklessness
and licentiousness nf the leading
TOyalista ; and even already he
aeems to have regarded the cauae
US doomed, thi-ough the vices of
ita supporters and adherents. Ac-
coniingto Clarendon, fromthefirst
entrance into this war, Falkland's
jii_jso^j natural cheerfulness and vivacity

grew clouded, and a kind of sod-
ness aud dejection uf spirit stole upon him which
he had never been used to. He became sad,
pale, and sjjlenetic, neglecting his dress, shun-
ning all recreation, nnil constantly exclaiming,
"Peace! peace!' or declaring that the horrors
of war and the desoklion of the kingdom de-
prived him of kWi'p and rest, and would shortly
break his heart.* Although holding no military

• Fnim the ■Uliw hr John Ikll, tn SI. RtophKii'i lUU, »>

,v Google

532

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil ani> Militaet.

comtuisBion, he took pnrt id the active proceed-
ings of the WW; but, occupied with melancholy
forebodings of the issue, whatever side might pre-
Tiul, gloij bad Deither the power to allure him
onward,tiordaDgerto turn him aside. lu pi-epar-
iog for the battle of Newbury, a marked change
in his demeanour was perceptible: lie resumed
bis former carefulueHs and ueatueBs of attire,
that, if killed, his body might be found in be-
coming trim; and on bis friends diesuading him
from entering the field, as having no call to it,
because be had no military office, he answered,
"I am wenry of the times, and foresee much
misery to my country, and believe I shall be out
of it ere night." He put himself into the front
rank of Byron's regiment, and was shot while
advancing upon a hedge which the enemy had
lined with musketeers, " Thus fell that incom-
parable young man in the f our-and-thirtieth year
of his age, having so much despatched the true
buainesa of life tfaat tbe eldest rarely attain to
that immenaa knowledge, and tbe youngest enter
not into the world with more innocency. Who-
soever leads aucb a life, needs be the less oniiouB
upon how short warning it is taken from him."'
In the preceding year, when London seemed
to be threatened by the king, tbe parliament
had made certain applications for aid to the
Scots; but it was not till the middle of the pre-
sent year (1643) tbat those negotiations were
pressed with any earnestness. In tlie meantime
Chsrles, by meaiiB of the Duke of Hamilton,^
had required, as the only thing he would ask of
them, that his native subjects the Scots would not
. rebel. But Hamilton had failed, and Uontrose
bad again accused him and his brother, the Earl
of lAnark, of treason. Charles hereupon bad laid
his hands upon Hamilton, but lanark bad the
good fortune to escape. After a time the duke
was sent a close prisoner to the castle of Mount
St. Michael in Cornwall; his brother lAoark
joined the English parliament, and assisted them
in their difficult negotiations with the old Cove-
nanters. Those zealots iueisted, as a preliminary,
that the Englisli parliament shoidd take their
Covenant, and bind themeetves to the preserva-
tion of the king's person, and to tiie reducing the
doctrine and discipline of both churches to the
" pattern of tlie best reformed," which latter
clause meant that the English were to adopt the
Presbyterian Kirk of Scotland. But by this time
the Independents, who hated Presbyterianisi
roost as much as Arm in ian ism and Prelacy,'
becoming powerful as a party; and Uarry Vane
the younger, one of the cliiefs of that sect, and
one of the most adroit of men, was the negotia-

tor at Edinbnrgh, charged with the settlement of
the treaty. Tane induced the Scots to agree to
a simple League and Uoreiiaiit, " iu preservatioti
of the laws of the land and liberty of the sub-
ject," Charles sent down his commands to tbn
Scots not to take this Covenant: they humbly ad-
vised him to take it himself. The English par-
liament sent down £100,000, and then the Scots

spared an army to march into England. Hie
Covenant was taken in London on the 26th of
Septeml)er, tbe day on which the Earl of Essex
returned to London and received a vote of thanks
from parliament. From this date the original
National Oovkhaht of the Scots comes to be
known as the Solbmm Lbaoue akd Covevavt of
the two kingdoms.

Long before the parliament had settled these
arrangements for calling in the Scots, Uie king
had been labouring to bring over the Irish, and
to obtain for his own service the troops which
the houses had sent to Ireland. The parliament,
notwithst&ndiog tbe troubles at home, had suc-
ceeded in checking that mighty inaurrection,
which at one moment threatened the entire ex-
pulsion of the English. Badly armed, and scarcely
organized at all, the native Irish had nowhere
been able to stand in a regular battle against Uie
English army. They had been beaten from post
to post, and the victors, animated by religious in-
tolerance, and by the memory of the barbarities
practised by the Papists at the commencement of
the war, seldom or never gave quarter. By a series
of manteuvres, Charles had prevented the Earl
of Leicester, appointed lord-heutenant with the
approval of the Englisli parliament, from going
over to Ireland, and had placed the governing
power, on the part of the Protestant interest
there, in the hands of Ormond, a determined
myalist. Ormond, who hoped, when he had re-
stored tranquillity in Ireland, to be able to asust
his master in England with men and arms, en-
tered into negotiations with the Catholics, who
by this time hod been made humble and reason-
able ill their demands by repeated defeats. fVom
the moment of his retiring to York, Charles had
maintained an active correspondence with the
confederated Irish Catholics, by means of the
Lords Dillon, Taaffe, and Castlehaven, and one
Cole, a doctor of the Sorbonne. Towards the
end of the year 1642, the confederated Catholics
at Kilkenny transmitted a petition to the king,
professing great loyalty, aud imploring him to
appoint certain persons to hear what they had to
propose, and what to ofer for bis service. Or-
mond recommended this petition to Charles; and
in January, 1643, a commisuon was issued to
Ormond, conformably to its prayer, and in the
month of March commissioners, regularly ap-
pointed by Ormond or the king, met the deputies

,v Google

A.O. 1642-16«.]

of the Catbolin st Trim, and eutam) upon n«go-
tiatioDS. At this juncture, when enroyo
oontiDaaUr pasung to and from the ]dng and the
Irish, the qaeen arrived at Tork, and there, in
her oonrt, two eztnuirdiiisiy men, the Scottish
GbtI of MontroH and the Irish Earl of Antrim,
found themeelves together. Antrim, an nnprin-
dpled adreutiirer, had alternately served the
king and the insurgents. He waa caught with
the red hand in the province of Ulster, by the
Scottish geneml Monro, and sent a prisoner to
Dublin; but he had made bis escape and got
over to York. Now, nnder the anspices of tbe
queen, he concerted daring measures with Mon-
trose ; and it was agreed between them that
Montrose should excite the rojalists to take up
arms in diSerent parte of BcoUand, while Antrim
should go over and raise an army of Irish Ca-
tholiea to make a descent upon the Scottish coast.
But, in addition to this last service, Antrim un-
dertook to bribe and debauch General Monro
and his Presbyterian army, and to induce them
to make a simultaneous deacent upon the English
coast, and then join the king against the parlia-
ment. But this scheme fell to the ground. An-
trim was sgain seized and thrown into prison by
General Monro; and Montrose, who afterwards
met with different success, found the Scottish
royalists timid and lukewarm. In the meantime
the Marquis of Ormond had continued his ne-
goUations with the confederated Catholics at
Kilkenny, and, after many impediments and de-
lays, a trace for a year was concluded on the
IGth of September, lft43.' In the month of
November following, Ormond shipped off five
regiments to join the king. These men had been
raised or commissioned by the English parlia-
ment, against which they now came to fight, but,
during a bloody and demoraliziDg service, they
had contracted the habits and feelings of mere
soldiers of fortune, and Ormond had introduced
into their ranks a very considerable number of
native Irish. The greater part of them, landing
at Chester, enrolled themselves under Lord By-
ron, the royalist governor of that city, whom
they enabled to resume the offensive. But, abont
six weeks after their arrival. Sir Thomaa Fairfax
fell upon them at Nantwjch, and completely de-
feated them. Two hundred were kilted, and
ISOO threw down their arms and were taken
priaonerp.* The effect of the mau<euvi-eB in Ire-
land was in all respects detrimental to the royal
cause. As soon as the news of the treaty with
the Papists at Kilkenny reached the Earl of
Newcastle's army in the north, many of the men

■ JtiuJkiMrtA.' ITAilEfKt; Oamdim; Sumil; BtriaM.
■Thenmnktao Ukan In thla taiHIs 110 womni. mmy nt
vbom bid liwf knlm, wHh wbish tlicj in uld I

LES I. 533

threw down their arms, and refused to fight any
longer for the king.'

At the close of the present year, 1643, the par-
liament sustained a great loss in the death of
Pym.who had been one of the most popular men
of his day, and one of the most distinguished for
ability,eloquence,and untiring activity. Hedied
literally worn out by labour, and as poor as he
was when he commenced his career. The house
voted a sum of money to pay his debts and bury
him honourably in Westmiustor Abbey.

Ttie national erfnod, for the purpose of set-
tling the government and form of worship of the
Church of England, met at Westminster in the
month of July. The assembly conwsted of 121
clergymen; and, in imitation of the Scottish sys-
tem, ten members of the House of Lords and
twenty members of the House of Commons were
joined with them as lay assessors. On the 19th
of July the Assembly of Divines, styling them-
selves "divers ministers of Christ," delivered a
petition to both Houses of Parliament. They said
that it was evident that God's heavy wrath was
lying on the nation for its una, and that t&ey con-
sidered it their dnty, aa watchmen for the good
of the church and kingdom, to present certain
earnest requests. The first of these was for a
public and extraordinary fast: the second was,
that the parliament would vouchsafe instantly to
take into their most serious consideration how
they might set up Christ more gloriously. They
prayed for the removing of the brutish ignorance
and palpable darkness possesung the greatest
part of the people in all places of the kingdom.
They also called for the persecution of the va-
rious sects classed under the general head of
Independents. Yet even in this assembly the
Fresbytetians wei-e not without their opponents.
Some eight or teu of the members were Inde-
pendents or other sectaries; about twenty were
Episcopalians; and Selden and Whitelock, who
were present among the twenty members of the
House of Commons, who had all the same liberty
with the divines to debate and give their votes,
frequently resisted their doctrine as well as their
general proceedings.' The Independents, few as
they wer«, pleaded for such a toleration as would
include at least all those who held what were
r^iarded as the doctrines of orthodox Protest-
antism, and when they were defeated in their
first attempt, they insisted tliat, whatever the es-
tablished or dominant religion might be, there

* Tb* aoottUi mJnMfli ud pidlUal acnif <"» nxndinglT
ufrjwitbSeldni'iOriRiUl laming. BimisiBTi. "TbkDun
3iddnilittMh»doftlwI^a>tlut: hb glnr !■ mort In Jswirii
iBBnlng; ha Biom srerinihen tluC th* J«wiih chanih ud
•Ut« wan 111 one, ind » in England It mtut ba, Oia pu-Uusnit
bafng tha chnKA. .... Soldgn li roj Inicdant ftir hla Orlantat .
lil««tnn. "_irt(m.

• Google

534

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

iCiT

- AND MlLITART.

should be a provuiou for the toleration of those
who ooDBcientioiislj diasented from iL Preebyte-
rians night hold the livingB and revenues which
h«d been held by the ArmiQiaus, but the aecta-
rians, they contended, ought to be allowed to
support ministers of their own. But even this,
of a certainty, would not have been granted, but
for the rapid rise of Oliver Cromwell and the
Itattle of Naaehy.

16-14 '^* '''"*' ^'^ iieea for some time
contemplating the expediency of
making a new parliament at Oifonl; but he did
not resolve upon this measure until he was as-
sured that hia Oxford lords and commons would
be very submissive and altogether averse to forc-
ing him into a treaty of peace with the commons
at Westminster. This an ti- parliament — "the

mongrel parliament," as Charles himself con-
temptuously and ungTstefully called it — met at
Oxford on the 22d of Jannary, 1644. It consisted
of the members who had deserted the parlia-
ment at Westminster, or had been diaabled by
it. Forty-three peers and 118 commoners were
all that gathered round the king. According to
Whitelock, the peen at Weatminater were more
numerous, while the conunoners more than dou-
bled thoae at Oxford. The king told them that
he had called them together to be witnenea of
his actions and privy to his good iuteutjons; and
that: he hoped they would enable him to set all
things right, and place the crown above the reach
and malice of thoae who had misled the people.
Four days after — on January the 26th — Uie Ox-
ford parliament resolved, nemttte eontradioenie.

that all such subjects Of Sratland as had con-
sented to the present expedition into England
had thereby denounced war against the kingdom
of England; that all such of his majesty's sub-
jects of England as did not resist tlie Scots should
be treated na traitors and enemies to the state,
&c. On the morrow the lords and commons at
Oxford drew up a declaration, that they were
there to prevent the further effusion of Christian
hlood; that they and his majesty desired peace
above alt things: and this was accompanied by
an overture for peace addressed it^ the ^rl of
Eaaex. The profession thus made was a mere
feint. They described the parliament at West-
minster as those by whom Essex was trusted.
Essex told them that tliey must acknowledge tlie
two houses at Westminster as the true parlia-
ment of England, and that he could not deliver
their letter. Charles then directed a letter "To
the Lords and Commons of Parliament assem-
bled at Westminster." Tills address was unex-
ceptionable, but not so were the contents. The
two houses looked upon the king's letter aa an
insult A few days after, the two Westminster
houses addressed a large declaration to the king-
dom, in which they denounced this Oxford pro-
posal of a treaty as "a Popisli and Jesuitical
counsel." The lords and commons at Oxford is-
sued a counter-fleclaration — the strongest argu-

be i>Mii«l.— From Hollir'. visw.

' ment in which was, that they had been threat-
' ened and coerced when at Westminster by tlie
London populace. They also voted leviea of men
and money for the king, but these could only be
raised in those parts of the kingdom where the
' royalists were indisputably the strongest. About
the middle of April Charles dismissed his "mon-
grel parliament" — for so, as before noticed, he
himself called it.

Meanwhile the fortune of war was setting
strongly against the royalists. That tried sol-
dier of fortune, old Leslie, who now rejoiced in
the title of Earl of Leven, once more led a Scot-
tish army across the Borders, and advanced with-
out oppoaitiou, or without delay, to the banks of
the Tyne. Newcastle, however, was this time
well fortified, and, after an ineffectual summons,
Leslie oroRsed the river and marched upon Sun-
derland. Tliere he found himself opposed by
the Enrl of Newcastle, who had taken np on ad-
vantageous position. The Scot took up as gool
ground, resolving to remain on the defensive till
the English pari i amen taiians of the north should
form a junction with hiui. But the Fairfaxes
were engaged elsewhere, and for some time Leslie
was obliged to lie inactive between Sunderland
and Durham. But the defeat of Lord Byron
with his Irish and Anglo-Iri^ forced Newcas-
tle to move off towards York, which was then

»Google

A.D. 1642— 1644.J CHAE

thmtened by Lord Fairfax. Laalie fallowed,
hokIj' hftraMed Newcastle'i reai-,and joined Lord
Fairfax under the walla of York.

Charles was still tjing at Oxford with about
10,000men. A combined attack which was mule
upon that place bjExsex and W idler would have
fully succeeded, but for the disagreemeut of those
two generals, which allowed the king to escape
by night between the two armies, and to get to
Worcester by forced marches. Essex then turned
to the west, leaving Waller to pursue the king.

Fourteen thousand men had been placed by
parliament under the command of the Earl of
Manchester and his lieutenant-general, Oliver
Cromwell. This division, which was mgarded
with pride and liope by at least all the Indepen-
dents, was sent northward to co-operate with
Lord Fairfax and Leslie in the siege of York.
The two commanderB were accompanied by the
sagacious Sir Henry Tane, who was then alike
the bosom friend of Manchester and Cromwell.
When this force arrived, York was comjiletely
iuvested. Newcastle drew off his army towards
the west, and Prince Rupert, resolute to raise the
siege, advanced fromCheihii« and LoQcaehire in
great force, and joined Newcastle. The united
royalist army iu the north thus amounted to up-
wards of 20,000 men. The parliamentarian gen-
erals and the Scots raised their siege in presence
of BQcb a force, and, on the last day of June,
placed themselves in battle array on Marston
Moor, about five milea to the sonth-west of the
city. Bupert threw troops and provisions into
York, and then proposed giving a general battle.
Newcastle was of a different opinion, and the two
royalists, as they had often done before, came
U> B violent altercation. In the end, the Eng-
lish nobleman told the proud German, that if he
would fight, it would be upon his own responsi-
bility. The parliamentarians evidently did not
expect to be brought to action — for, after stay-
ing a day on Marston Moor, they, early on the
morning of the 2d of July, began to march off
their foot and artillery and their Scottish allies
towards Tadcaster; and they were in the disorder

LES J. 535

of this movement when old Leslie, in the van,
received news that Rupert had fallen upon the
rear that was still on the moor. The trumpet
sounded a halt along the whole line of march,
nud the Scots, the English foot, and the arUl.
lery turned I^ut, endeavouring to get the best
ground on the moor, and prevent Rupert from
outflanking them. It was three o'clock .in the
afternoon before these preludes were finished-
Then the prince gave his word, " God and the
king,' and the other party gave theirs, "God with
us;' after which they shot at one or another with
their great guns, but not very fiercely or effec-
tually. This lasted till about five o'clock, when
there was a general silence through both armies,
each expecting which would begin the charge.
In this posture they continued a considerable
time, so that it was believed there would be no
action that night; but, about seven o'clock in the
evening, the parliament's generals resolved to foil
on, and the Earl of Manchester's foot and some
of the Scots ran to the ditch or drain in their
front, made their way over it, and gave a smart
charge. This attack of infantry led to two grand
charges of cavalry. The right wing of the par-
liamentarians, where Scots were mixed with Eng-
lish, was almost totally routed. But, at the same
time, the left wing of the parliamentarians, where
Cromwell charged with his excellent horse— his
"Ironsides"— was completely successful. "Still
both sides eagerly contended for victory; which,
after an obstinate dispute, was obtained by Crom-
well's brigade, the enemy's right wing being to-
tally routed and flying, as tlie parliament's had
done before, our horse pursuing and killing many
of them in their flight.'' At ten o'clock atnif^t
the victory was completed by charges of the re-
serves of Oliver Cromwell's brigade, backed by
General David Leslie. Rupert fled headlong with
his broken and disordered cavalry, his infantry
threw down their arms to run the fa8t«r, all his
artillery, ammunition, and baggage fell into the
hands of the parliamentarians, who followed with
great slaughter to within a mile of York, and
tlien slept on the ground on Marston Moor.'

• -or tbU fattUd, ttw b1<ndig*t of ttw whola war. I mut ]«TB
tlie nwlor details in the lODnM ludicotfld below ; or bi iimmine
It In gaooT^ tbfl ZDOvt ODoniLov horlf-burlj ot An uid onokB,

Uui end of wfakih, About twi At tU^t, wtM, * Foot tbouutd ooe

kinf *■ jUDk[ll la tb«o DDrtbttTD pArt4.

"ThB ■Jmiv w«n act compJetelr dnwn ap tlU after Bto In
ditch bslwewi them ; Umj rtood fictng

in htnii and luJT. Nemutle thought tfaate would be
no flghtiiig tUl tho looTTOVf and had ntirod to hie cvrio^ for
Um night. Then ie amna ahadow of mnaiaa that the Onj
auuoB.ahat, irUcfa priTed btal to OllwVit^ihaw, did alM,
rondDS OUver'i homour to the charing point, bring on the
goHnl liMtla. ' The FiliHa of Flundeian;' invincible hitherto.

[jle, (?ronilRtrt Icllcn and Speirlia, tcJ. 1. p. 240.

all that dtttiaotLon in thq kins'! canai«i< at Oilbrd, and all
thcBfl bickoringi and heait-bunungi ntnong Ida adhereota. which
natmailj belong to nan Hmbarked In a duignnnia noae. witli

of whom had aarrad with the Swede* in Oemuor, aaknowladgad

in annoTlng tiie enemr or pTariding for themselTce. thvj war*

on the othar hand, and the whole oonatitatloiial partj, labonred
to keep up in the midat of amia. ths appearanoea at ieaat of
legal JoBiiee, and that hvonrita nuuiu of E

»Google

536 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [Civil asd MiLixiRr.

On the morrow, Prince Rupert drew off from ' to aurreader at diacretioii, Articlae of autrender
York a few troops of horse, and galloped in hU < were agreed upou oii the 15th, oad on the I6th

Laate to Borooghbridge, where he was joined
by Colonel Cl&veriiig. On the morning of the
4tb of Jnlj the parliamentaiy armj again aat
down before York, and summoned the gairison

the parliamentariaiiB marched into York, and
the royalists mEUvhed out of it, with colours
Bying and druma beating, according to stipula-

CHAPTER XV.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— A. D. 164*-1646.

CHARLES I.

The puliamentary foreea cloiely preaMd by the luog — They are ndaced to gteti diffioultiH — Their retrot — Second
eiigagsment kt Mewbnr; — The king obliged to retrut — Quurel between Cromwall and the Earl of Manchestar
— Diilike between tiie PreBbyteriaDa and the Indspendiuita— Tbe Independents isek the oommand of the
army — CromweU'a propoul tocontinas the var with greater ligonr— The "Self-denying Ordiaauce" — Fairfax
appointed commander of the parliamentary army — Changea produced by the " aelf-denying OrdiDanoe"— The
lodependeuta aucceiBfal— Frooeeding* agaiiut Archbiahop Laud— Hie impeachment and trial— Hii Koteacv
and eiecutioD — The Sooti propose a peaceful negotiation with Charlee — Commieuoners appointed for the
purpose — Their uncoortsouB reception from the king — He aends bia proponitlons to the Eiigliih parliament
without an addrees^ — He refuiea to recogniie the house as a parliament — ^Uniatiifactory close of the treaty —
War of ikinniahes and surprisei — State of the parliauientary army— CromweU'i coiaminian from the par-
liament— He i> appointed their lieutenant-general — Battle of Nieeby— Total defeat of the royaUsta— The
king's cabinet of letters (alls into the hands of the parliament — Their publication, and its efivcts— Deapondencj
of Charles, and hopelHanegs of hie abira — Career of tbs Marquis of Montrose in Scotland — His *ictoriia at
Tippermuir and the Bridge of Dae— His capture of Aberdeen— His ioTssiou of Argyleehire— He defeats the
Earl of Argyle atlnverlocby— Hiarictoryat Aldearn- Progress of the Covenanting army gf the Scots in Eng-
land— They keep the king in cbeck— Victory ot Montrose at Kilsyth— Unsaccessful attempts of Charles to
join him— Cbarln defeated at RowtoD Heath— Hontnwe defeated at Philiphaugb— Perplexity of Charlee—
His quarrel with his nephew, Prince Bupert— He escapes to Oxford— Breach widened between the Pnsby-
teiiana and Independents — The long attempts to n^otiate with tbe contending parties — His application to
the Scots — Increase of his diAculties and disailan — He is compelled to flee from OxforJ — Uis appUcattons t«
tlie Scottish army— He repsin to it tor protection.

!E battle of Marstou Moor gave
mrtiament the command of the.en-
Are north, where the Scots soon
itormed the town of Newcastle.
But, in the west, Essex was get-
.iug into a position which eveutu-
tJlf led to a humiliating reverse. Tbelord^ene-
rol, after the frustrated attempt upon the king
at York, had marched through the western coun-
ties with the couGdent hope of reducing them alL
The queen, who had juat got up from her con-
finement in the city of £iet«r, asked him for a
safe-conduct to Bath or Bristnl. Essex offered
her a safe- conduct to London; she preferred mak-
ing her way to Falmouth and sailing back to
Francp, which she did upon Sunday the 14th of
July. " Her majesty landed safely nt Brest in

France, and resided iu that her native kingdom
from henceforth, till after the restoration of the
royal family.'' The Lord-general Essex mean-
while kept advancing into the west, ignorant of
the storm that was gathering iu bis rear. Blake,
who was afterwards to distinguish himself iu a
larger theatre and on a different element, was
besieged by Prince Maurice iu the unimportant
town of Lyme-Regis, which he made tenable, and
put in fighting order like a ship. Maurice raised
the siege on tbe approach of Essex, who within
three weeks occupied Taunton, Tiverton, Wey-
mouth, and BridporL But the king, who had
given Waller the slip at Copredy bridge, and
who had reinforced his army, was now in full
moroh aft«r him, and driving him into a comer
— the narrow extremity of Cornwall — where the

I* tmdot Uufomor party stood tbe king's two ;
rt uul Haurloe, the Tcmiiger »ni irf the isle an- I
jT-palSliu", ■oldlerm of fortono (a> w« msy truly
rude and iuaperlDiis eharacten. sTowedlj daspi*- :

M and incapacity fy[ aflUn, against i

Jouking at least

of tbe kingdom. Another wj powerful and

I wsi that of Uw CstboUos, pcuqd of tbiir ■(-
)es, ooufldent in the queen's proteetirm, and
Dm foil toientiun, as tbair just reward. Tbej

,- LuMok: Nrmca^UU L\_ft, by his

»Google

.D. 1644—1046.]

CHARLES r.

537

fierce u&tirea, except in the Bca-porta aad trad-
ing towDB, were exceedioglj hosUle fa> the par-
liunent. Pruic« Uauric« also joined his forces
to the klDg'a, and a strong hope was entertained
of deetiojing the whole of the parliamentarian
army in the weal If Essex had given the king
battle on his first maJciug hia appearance, and
before he waa joined by the bands of west coun-
try royalists, hia chance would hare been a good
one; but he, on his side, expected to be joined
by Middteton, perhaps by Waller, and ao lay
doing nothing, and allowing hia men to be cooped
np between Liskeard and the sea. Then Sir
Bicbard Orenville came np with a wild force of
Cornwall leTies, and cut off some of the parlia-
mentarian foraging parties. Captain Edward
Brett arrived with the queen's body-guard, which
■he had left behind her when embarking for
Fiance. Other corpe gathered at other poinls,
and all supplies of forage and provisions were
•oon cut off. " In this posture both armies lay
Btill without any notable action for the f<pace of
eight or ten daya : when the king, seeing no better
fruit from all that was hitherto done, resolved to
draw his whole army together, and to make his own
quarters yet much nearer." Charles therefore
drew closer the toils in which he held the army
of Essex; he drove them from a rising ground
called Beacon-hill, and immediately caused a
tqnare work to be there raised, and a battery
made which shot into their quarters with a plung-
ing fire. And then Goring was sent with the
greatest part of the royal horse, and 1000 foot, a
little westward to St. Blaze, to drive the enemy
yet closer together. The dashing, daring Ooriug,
the bloodiest hand that waved a sword in these
nvil wars, executed the commission with entire
snccees; and the parliamentarians were reduced
to that small strip of land which lies between the
river of Foy, or Fowey, and that of St. Blaze,
which was not above two miles in breadth, and
little more in length, and which bad already
been eaten bare by the cavalry. At length, the
state of the army being desperate, and famine
■taring them in the face, it was determined that
Sir William Balfour should try and break through
the king's lines with all the horse, and that then
Essex should endeavour to embark the foot at
Fowey, and escape by sea. A Frenchman, who
deserted from the parliamentarians, went over
by night and acquainted the king with these two
desperate plans. Warning was sent to Qoring
and all the royal horse; and further orders were
given or renewed for breaking down the bridges,
and cutting down the trees to obstruct the pas-
sage. "The effect of all this providence," says
Clarendon, "was not such as was reasonably to
be expected. The night grew dark and misty,

as the enemy could wish; and about three in the
morning, the whole body of the horse passed
with great silence between the armies, and within
pistol-shot without so much as one musket dis-
chai^ed at them. At the break of day, the horse
were discovered marching over the heath, be-
yond the reach of the foot; and there wai only
at hand the Earl of Cleveland's brigade, the body
of the king's hotse being at a greater distance.

The notice and orders came to Goring,

when he was in one of his jovial exercises; which
he received with mirth, and slighting those who
sent them, as men who took alarms loo warmly;
and be continued his delights till all the enemy's
borse were passed through his quarters ; nor did
then pursue them in any time." Ilaving stayed
to see the full succew of Sir William Balfour's
movement, which saved the most valuable part
of the army, Essex fought his way to the shore
near the mouth of the Fowey, and there, with
his friend the Lord Boberts and with many of
his officers, he embarked on board a ship and
sailed away to Plymouth on the let of September,
leaving his foot, cannon, and ammnnition to the
care of the gallant and faithful Skippon, who
had nothing left for it but to make the best
capitulation he could. The king had offered
good terms of surrender. On the evening of the
Sd of September the common men laid down
their arms (the ofBcera retaining their swords),
delivered up their cannon and ammunition, and
were conducted towards the posts of their army
at Foole and Portsmonth. They had been pro-
mised the safe possession of whatever money and
goods belonged to them ; but before they were
quit of the royalist escorts they were stripped
even of their clothes.'

If Charles had remained in Cornwall he wonM
soon have been cooped np in hia turn. He pre-
ferred marching off in great triumph into Devon-
shire; and, after resting a short time in that
plentiful country, he pushed forward for Oxford,
in the hofte of recovering his old quarters with-
out a battle. But in the meantime the forces
of Essex, Mancheeter, Waller, and Cromwell
were concentrated near Newbury ; and, on reach-
ing that spot where be had been so fatally en-
gaged the preceding year, the king, who got pos-
session of the town, and who had many othtr
advantages, found himself obliged to consent to
a general action. On this occasion no great hon-
our was gained by any of the parliament gene-
rals, except Oliver Cromwell. Some sharp skir-
mishing bc^pui on tlie afternoon of the 96th of

' Ctartndm; lluit»rM: Itdtmt. Tin iHt wrltar laTi. "Tbt

Vou. II.

1 CUnndom /AK.

h ipaAdJIj ncmit4d, k

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[ClVU. AND MlUTABr.

October. Oa the morrowrooniiiig (it was a Sab-
bath morn) Mtu)cbest«r reuewed the attack far
more rigoroualy , bia men going on to the charge
" luiigiof; of psalms," as naa usual with them.
The affairs were prolonged till night, when the
kiug, fearing that before the next morning he
niight be compassed rouiiil, threw hia artilleiy
into Dounington Castle, and stole away towards
Oxford. As soon as his evasion waa known,
Cromwell proposed following him up with the
whole of the horse; but this waa opposed by the
Earl of Manchester. Twelve days after this iu-
■lecisive second battle of Newbury, the king was
allowed to return to Donningtou Caatle, close
above the town, and, in the face of the parlia-
ment's army, to carry o£f the artillery, which he
had deposited in that castle.' CromweU and his

friends now began to miumur. It may, or it
may not be, that this was part of a regular plan
concerted long before by the Independents for
getting the command of the army wholly out of
the hands of the aristocracy and into their own,
in order to make it the iuatrument for achieviag
a ttiorougli revolution^ but it must nevertheless
be confessed that the conduct of the parliament's
generals was calculated to provoke suapiciooa.
The House of Commons was so much dissatisfied
at this last business of Dounington Castle, that
they ordered an inquiry; and then Cromwell ex-
liibiteil a formal charge of hackwardueaa and
neglect against the Ear) of Manchester. That
nobleman justified his conduct aa a general, in a
long narrative aent up to the House of Ijords.
He declared tliat he had done the best that could
be done in the second battle of Newbury. "But,"
continued Manchester, "where the horae were
tliat Lieutenant- genei-al Cromwell commanded

on that day, I have aa yet had no certain ac-
count.' But, not satisfied with this recrimination,
the Earl of Manchester delivered to the lordx
another paper, which was meant to consume
CromweU in the flames of Freebyterian wrath,
by accusing him of a fixed design against the
aristocracy and the Church of Christ.

The Earl of Essex waa far more bitter against
CromweU than Manchester could be, for the lat-
ter nobleman's temper waa naturally amiable
and generous. The great Presbyterian general-
iu-chief went down to the House of Lords on the
duy appointed for reading Manchester's narra-
tive. He had not been there since his return
from Cornwall, but he continued to attend in
his seat while this bouuewi waa diacusaing, and
at the same time he opened private consultations
in his own house upon the
delicate question of the expe-
diency and safety of proceeding
against Cromwell as an " in-
cendiary" between the two na-
tions of England and Scotland.
The managers of these debates
at Easex House were the Scot-
tish commisuonera, Hollis, Sir
John Mcyrick, Sir Philip Sta-
j pleton, and other Presbyterian
chiefs, who were alike auxioua
for the preservation of monar-
chic and aristocratic institu-
tions, and for the establishment
of one sole and exclusive form
< of worship, cbuivh government,
doctrine, and discipline. Many
bitter things were said against
v^. Cromwell as the enemy of Pres-

byterianisra and the friend and
champion of liberty of conscience. The Lord-
chancellor of Scotland declared Oliver to be an
incendiary " between the twa nations." But hia
great and rising power, his vast popularity in the
army, and his very considerable influence in both
Houses of Parliament were acknowledged, not
without fear and trembling, and In the end the
conclave at Essex House resolved to attempt
nothing agunst the general for the present.*

But now, while the Scottish commiaiiioner^
and Essex, and Hollis, and the others that loved
Presbyterian ism, were plotting at midnight, and
devising all kinds of means to drive Cromwell
into the toils^tlmt wonderful person, who had
no pretension whatever either to the innocency
of the dove or the meekness of the lamb, was
planning, with infinitely better success, how he
might break the neck of tlie Presbyterian oli-
garchy, and get the command of the army out of
the hands of a set of men, who, aa the majority

»Google

A.D. 1644—1646.] CHAR

of the sation dow certaiiilj beliered, were in no
haste to finish this desolating war. For some
time he and his friend Sir Harrj' Vane had been
almost conatantlj closeted tJ^ether. Compared
with either of these men, the MancheBters, the
Bnexes, the Hollises, were intellectually babies;
and then Croranell and Yane had the assistunce
of the deep, inecrutabte, and moat sogaciouH St.
John. The effect of their deliberations was made
manifest on the 9th of December, when (military
operations having been suspended, and both ar-
mies having gone into winter-qoarteis) the com-
mons went into a committee of the whole honse to
take into consideraljon the sad condition of the
kingdom in reference to its grievances by the bur-
den of the war. "There was a general silence,"
says Whitelock, "for a good space of time, many
looking npon one another to see who would break
the ice and speak first on so tender and sharp a
point.' At last Cromwell stood np and said:
" It is now time to speak or for ever to hold the
tongue; the important occasion beingno less than
to save a nation out of a bleeding, nay, almost
dying condition, which the long continuance of
the war hath already brought it into ; eo that,
without a more speedy, vigorous, and effectual
prosecution of the war, casting off all lingering
proceedings, like soldiers of fortune beyond sea,
to spin out a war, we shall make the kingdom
weary of us, and hate the name of a parliament.
For what do the enemy say? Nay, what do many
say that were friends at the beginning of the par-
liament? Even this — that the members of both
houses have got great places and commands, and
the sword into their hands; and, what by interest
in parliament and what by power in the army,
will perpetually continue themselves ingrandeur.
Tliia that I speak here to our own faces is but
what others do ntter abroad behind our bocks."
He said that he would not reflect npon the pri-
vate conduct or military character of any man ;
that he knew hnw difficult it was to avoid error
in war; that he must acknowledge himself to
liave been guilty of some over-sights, but that
he must recommend parliament to put the army
into another method, and enable it to prosecute
the war with rigour. "And I hope,' he contin-
ued, " we have such tme English hearts, and
zealous affections towards the general weal of
onr mother -country, as no members of either
house will scruple to deny themselves and their
own private interests for the public good,
account it to he a dislionour done to them, what-
ever the parliament shall resolve upon in this
weighty matter." Another member, whose name
ought to have been preserved, followed Crom-
well, very eloquently recommending an active
prosecution of the war nnd a change of i\)niman-
ders. But the first that proposed expressly to

539

exclude all members of parliament, whether of
the House of Lords or Honse of Commons, from
commands and offices, was Mr. Zouch Tate, who
moved for the bringing in of the ordinance to that
effect, which was afterwards so celebrated under
the name of the " Self-denying Ordinance." Zouch
Tate was seconded by Tane, and the unexpected
IS carried. The Ordinance was reported
two days after, on the 11th of December, when a
solemn day of fast was appointed for imploring
a blessing on the intended new model of the army.
The bill was read a third time on the ISth of
December; and on the Slat the commons sent it
to the lords. Tliere it met with many delaya
and much opposition. On the 30th of December
the consideration of it was submitted to a com-
mitt«e of eight lords, four of whom were per-
sona most interested in op]»>siDg the Onlinance —
namely,the Earls of Essex, Manchester, Warwick,
and Denbigh. This committee drew up a paper
representing that the bill would deprive the peers
of that honour which in all ages had been given
to them. They added, that the Self-denying
e was by no meana equal in its opera-
tion to lords and commons, since, though some
of the gentry and commons were comprehended
sittiug members ot parliament, yet the
rest were left free to serve either in civil offices
the field ; whereas the Ordinance would oper-
B a disqualification of the whole hereditary
nobility of England. Upon this the commons,
who twice before had sent up urgent measageH,
appointed a committee to prepare reasons to sa-
tisfy their lordships; and on the 13th of January,
1645, the whole honse, with the speaker at their
head, went np to the lords about the same busi-
ness. But the lords, that same day, finished de-
bating, and rejected the Ordinance. In the mean-
time the commons went on forming the new model
of the army, which they agreed should consist in
the whole of 21,000 effective men— namely, 6000
horse, 1000 dragoons, and 14,000 foot. Nor did
they stop here; for, on tlie 21 st of January, eight
days after the lords had rejected the Self-denying
Ordinance, the commons proceeded to nominate
the chief commanders of the new-modelled army.
Sir Thomas Fairfax was named general-in-chief
in lieu of Essex; Skippon, who had begun l^
commanding the train-bands of the city of Lon-
don, was made major-general; and the post of
lieutenant -general was purposely and artfully
left vacant. On the S8th of Jannary, having
completed the ordinance for raising and main-
taining the army under the anpreme command
of Sir Thomaa Fairfax, the commons sent it np to
the lorda, who, on the 4th of February, returned
it passed, but not without additions and altera-
tions. Against some of these alterations, which
were calculated to give a new edge to Presbyt*-

• Google

640

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

. AKD MlLlTABT.

rian intolerance, the coramona remonstrated, and
they -were Sd&IIj' given up by tlie lords.

On the 24th of March the commons resumed
the debftt« on the Self-denying Ordinance, and

consented to several material alteratiutis. The bill
now discharged the present oflicerB from their
commands, without disqualifying them for the
future, and for ever, as was at first proposed.
The measure, in short, was made to assume a
temporary character, to look like an extraordin-
ary arrangement made necessary by the extra-
ordinary circumstances of the times. Exceptions
were alao voted, as in the lirst Self-denying Ordi-
nance, in favour of the commissioueiB of the great
seal, the commissioners of the admiralty and
navy, and of the revenue, who, though all mem-
bera either of the lorda or commons, were to re-
main in office. The bill, in this state, was sent
to the upper house on the 31st of March. On
the 2d of April the Lord-generai Essex, the Earl
of Manchester, and the Earl of Denbigh, in the
House of Peers, voluntarily offered to surrender
their commissions. This offer waa accepted and
approved of by the houae; and on the following
day, the 3d of April, the Self-denying Ordinance
was freely passed by the peers. Some things
that immediately preceded this tardy consent of
the lords are full of significance. They were ex-
pressly calculated for the purpose of wringing
consent from the aristocracy by intimidation, the
commons all the while expressing the greatest
tenderness for the lords, and declfuing that they
" disclwmed and abhoiTed " any attempt " to un-
dermine their lordships' privileges."

Ou the same 3d day of April, on which the
lords paased the Self-denying Ordinance, Sir
Thomas Fairfax went from London to Windsor,

which he had appointed his head-quarters, hav-
ing previously, as commander-in-chief, summoned
all his officers and soldiers to rendezvous there
by the 7th of April. He continued at Windsor
till tbe end of the month, diligently employed in
remodelling the army. Dalbier, that soldier of
fortune, who had repeatedly given timid counsel
to the Earl of Essex, stood off for some time with
eight troops of horse, as if balancing between
Oxford and Windsor; but at last he went to the
latter place and submitted to the parliament.
Thus the parliament was secured; — thus "the
Independents cut tbe grass under the Presby-
terianrf feet."'

Before following Fairfax to the field, we must
take up certain matters which reflect disgrace on
the parliament. The synod of divines still con-
tinued to sit, although prevented by parliament
from arrogating to itself any legislative or judi-
cial authority; but if they did not of themselvea
send their old enemy, the Archbishop of Canter-
bury, to a hiuody grave, they certtunly promoted
with heart and soul that execution, which covid
hardly have taken place but for their vehement
hatred, " As yet," saya Sit Philip Warwick,
" the Scotu and Presbyterian party seem to he
the ruling interest in the two houses, and the
Scotch Covenant to be the idol ; and in order to
get this form uf church service allowed by tbe
king. Archbishop Laud must be taken out of the
way." The republican Ludlow says that it waa
expressly for the encouragement of the Scots,
that the lords and commons sentenced and caused
execution to be done upon William laud, their
capital enemy; but it does not appear that the
Scots either were, or possibly could be, more
eager for the old man's death than were the Eng-
lish Presbyterians.

Diseased, helpless, apparently almost friend-
less, the rummut pontifex of former days might
have lain forgotten in the Tower, and wound up
the story of his days in that dismal place; but
a dispute about church livings forced him into
x, and precipitated his end. Tbe lords re-
maining with the parliament claimed the right
of nominating to the benefices that fell vacant;
and still pretending to respect the archiepiacopal
functions of the captive, they called upon Laud
to collate the clei^ymen of their choice. Thu
king, careless of the old man's safety, commanded
not to obey tiie lords, and laud loyally
bowed to this order. In the month of A[Hil,
1643, the lords issued a peremptory order; laud
tried to excuse himself again; then the commons
received an acceptable message from the lords to
proceed with the charges already laid against
and expedite his trial. The commons ap-
pointed .1 committee, and selected Frynne to col-

»Google

A.D. 1644-1646.] CHAB

lect and prepare evidence— Prynne, who had
been so barbftroiialy tre&ted by the prUouer. On
the 23d of October, 1643, ten uew articles of im-
peachmeiit were added by Prjuneto the fourteen
already on record. A diapoeition vas ahown to
precipitate proceedings, and to deprive the arch-
Uehop of the meaua of making his defence; but
itwaa not until the 12th of March, 1644, that
the trial waa reall]^begun. Serjeant Wild opened
the accusation in a speech of great leqgth, some
ability, and no charity. He charged the aick
and tottering priest with all manner of tyran-
uiea and crimes, both political and religious^
he charged him with " high treason, treason in
all and every part, treason in the highest pitch
and altitude," laying upon him the blame of alt
the ill^al proceedings in the Star Chamber, High
Coraniission Court, and other courts. When the
Serjeant had done, the fallen archbishop desired
permission to speak a few words, to wipe off that
dirt that had been cast upon him. These few
words were in fact, an eloquent and most skilful
oration, which be delivered from a written paper
he held in his hand. Seventeen whole days were
spent in producing and commenting on the
dence, and then the archbishop requested that
he might have liberty to make a general recapi-
tulation of hia defeuce before the lords, which
was granted. On the Sd of September, 1644,
lAud delivered his general recapitulation to the
lords. The proceedings in that house were ex-
tended through more than a month. On the
11th of October Laud's counsel spoke on the '
point of law, maintaining that not one of the of-
fences alleged sgainat him, nor all those ofiences
■ccumnhUed, amounted to that most capital crime
of high treason. A few days after this, the com-
mons, apparently doubting the lords, resolved
to give up their impeachment as tliey had done
in Strafford's case, and pass an ordinance of at-
tiunder. On the Sd of November, after the se-
cond reading of this ordinance, the commons
brought the prisoner to the bar of their own
house. There Mr. Samuel Brown, in the arch-
lushop's presence, repeated the sum of the evi-
dence ^ven in before the lords; and when Brown
sal down, the commons ordered the prisoner to
make his answer vivd voce and at once. laud,
sinking under the weight of yearaand infirmi-
ties, prayed that he might have some convenient
time allowed him, in respect of the tedious length
and weight of the charge; and the house at last,
and not without difficulty, allowed him eight
days. On the 11th of November the prisoner
was brought again to the bar of the commons,
where he spoke for some hours iu his own de-
fence, aud where Mr. Samuel Brown replied in
his presence. Then Laud was sent back to the
Tower, and (on the same day) the house passed

641

the ordinance of attainder for high treason, with
only one dissenting voice. On the 16th of Nov-
ember they transmitted this bill to the house of
peers. It is quite eviilent, from the several at-
tempts Uiey made to gain time, that the lords,
though afraid of breaking with the other house,
were averse to the execution ; but at last — on the
4th of January, 1645 — they,in a very thin house,
passed the bill of attainder. A pardon granted
by the king was overruled and rejected ; and on
the morning of the ISth of January, Laud was
conveyed from the Tower, where he had been
confined more than three years, to the block upon
Tower-hill. TJpou the scaffold he delivered a
long speech, which he had written out in the
Tower, aud in which he endeavoured to excuse
himself from all the matters charged against him.
He died with great courage aud composure, and
like one upheld by the conviction that he hod
always act«d conscientiously and done alt things
for the best.'

The Scots, whose country had at length been
made the scene of civil war by the daring Mar-
quis of Montrose, recommended a new treaty of
peace with the king; and as early as the month
of November of the preceding year (1644), pro-
positions ruimiug in the name of both kingdoms
were drawn up by Johnston of Wariston. The
parliament sent to Oxford for a safe-conduct for
the commissioners they had appointed to carry
these propositions to the king, namely, the £arl
of Denbigh, the Lord Maynard, Mr. Pierpoint,
Mr. Hollis, Mr. Whitelnck, and the Lord Wen-
man (English), and the Lord Maitland, Sir Charles
Erskiiie, and Mr. Bartlay (Scotch). Prince Ru-
pert sent the safe-conduct under the hand and
seal of the king, who did not notice them as
members of parliament, but merely as private
gentlemen. Charles or hia officers most unwisely
kept these noblemen and gentlemen for some
hours outside the gates of Oxford, in the wot aud
cold; and when they were admitted into the
town, they were escorted like prisoners by a
troop of horse, and lodged in a very mean inn.'
The Earl of Denbigh read the propositions for
peace. " Have you power to treat 1" said Charles.
The commissioners replied, " No; but we are to
receiveyourraajesty's answer in writing." "Then,"
replied the king, " a letter-carrier might have
dona as much as you." "I suppose," said the
Earl of Denbigh, " your majesty looks upon us as
persons of another condition than letter-caniera."
" I know your condition," replied the king; " but
I say that your commission gives you power to
do no more than a letter-carrier might have done.'

' RiuhmirlX, WAiUiBa: May.- JT^i
LbikI'i TronUa: Pittidb, Cantrrfmry't

Inglj DO tbv Dut dAj. uhI fi

.■ tMganl;

,v Google

512

HISTORY OP ENOLAND.

Id tha evening the lojnl EnrI of Undiay, who
was sick in hia b«d, invited Hollis and White-
lock to visit him. These two importaiit mem-
bera of the House of CommonB had not been
a quarter of an hour in the eari'a clianiber when
the kiDg and Prince Rupert, with several per-
sons of prime quality, entered; and the king
not only saluted them verj ohligingly, Irat also
began to discourse with them. The evident
tention of the king was to win over Hollis and
Whitelock. Ho applauded them for the di
of peace which they had manifested, he flatt«red
their vanity by asking their advice; but they
saw that he had no intention of following it, and
hb experiment upon them completely failed.
Upon this, Charles made an end of the nseless
parade of compliment and cajolery.' On the STth
of November he sent them his reply sealed up.
Hollis and Wbitelock, and the other commis-
sioaera, desired to be excused from receiving that
answer bo sealed up, requesting at least to have
a copy of it. His majesty rudely replied, " What
is that to you, who are but to cany what I send}
and if I will send the song of Rohin Hood and
Little John, you must carry it!* The commis-
sioners contented themselves with Miyiug, tliat
the business about whicb they came was of some-
what more consequence than an old song. Charlen
tlien condescended to send them a copy of his
answer: but here, again, another difficulty was
started. They observed that the said answer
was not directed to any body whatsoever, and
tliat tbe parliament, so far from being acknow-
ledged, was not even named in it. Charles in-
sisted that the answer was delivered to them, tbe
parliament's com missi oners, which was sufficient;
and some of his lords earnestly entreated the
commiasiouers, for peace' sake, to receive the an-
swer as it was sent to them. ThereujKin the
commissioners, condileriog that they must take
it upon themselves to break off this treaty if they
should refuse the king's' paper, consented to re-
ceive the answer without any address upon it.*

On the 29th of November (1644) this singular
document was produced at Westminster, and on
tbe following day the same was read at a confer-
ence of both houses. Qreat exceptions were
made, and there wna much debate agninst the
form and want of direction; but at last it was
carried that those objections ahonld be laid aside,
that the treaty should be proceeded witli, and
that thanks should be returned to the coramis-
sioners who had been at Oxford. Charles had
now agreed to send tbe Duke of Riclimond and
the Earl of Southampton to London, with afuller
answer and an extended commission; but the
Earl of Essex would not grant a safe-conduct to
these two noblemen, unless he was acknowledged
' fFiiUteii AuikmU. > Ibu], j

I the

same point, insisting that hia majesty sliould send
as to " the parliament of England assembled at
Westminster, and the commiseionera of the par-
liament of Scotland." On the Cth of IXecember
Prince Rupert sent a letter with the required re-
cognition; and at the same moment the king, to
excuse himself with hia wife, addressed ber a
letter containing these words, "Aa U> my call-
ing those at London a parliament, if there had
been two beaides myself of my opinion, I bad not
done it; and the argument that prevailed with
me was, that the catling did nowise acknowledge
them to he a parliament; upon which condition
and construction I did it, and no otherwise; and
accordingly it is registered in the council- books,
with the council's unanimous approbation." The
king's envoys, the Duke of Richmond and the
Earl of Southampton, arrived in Loudon on the
14th of December, and were honourably con-
ducted to Somerset House, where they were well
entertained, and alloweil on the morrow — a Sun-
day— to hear Divine service according to the lit-
urgy, which parliament and the synod of divines
bad suppressed. The two noblemen, adhering
to their master's instructions, acted as secret
emissaries iu the city of London, and intrigued
with the two factions of Presbyterians and Inde-
pendents, offering the latter liberty of conscience,
&c. And aa Richmond and Southampton were
found to have no higher faculty than that of
proposing the nomination of commiasioners, the
parliament made haate to get rid of them, being
well informed as to all their doings in the city.

After many tedious preliminariea, it was agreed
that the king's commissioners should meet tlie
of the lords and commons at Ux-
bridge, within the parliamentary lines. Tliese
met on the day i^pointed (the
29th of January) in tbe little town of Uxbridge.
There, on the morrow, deliberations were opened,
it being agreed beforehand that everything should
be set down in writing. John lliurioe, atter-
wards secretary to Oliver Cromwell— Thurloe,
the bosom friend of Milton — acted as secretary
for the English parliament, being assisted by Mr.
Earle; and Mr, Cheesly acted as secretary for
of tlie Scottish parliament.
The first point debated was that which was sure
make the worst blood, and defeat the whole
treaty — if, indeed, there had ever been a hope
conclude a treaty. The par-
liament's commissioners delivered tbe proposi-
ions and votes of both houses conc«mittg tlie
settling of religion in a Preabj-terial way;" and
bis matter was appointed for the debate of the
thtee first days. Dr. Stewart, of the school of
Laud, spoke very learnedly, though somewhat

»Google

A.D. 1644—1646.] CHAE

warmly, against any altoratioa of itie eyetem of
Epbcopacy. Alexander Henderaou, the cham-
pion of Presbyteriaiiisia, the framer of the Cove-
nant, spoke with equal warmth Bgainst Episco-
pacy. At length the Marquis of Hertford,
wenried out with this dispute on a point of mere
Bpeculative theology, proposed that they should
leave this argument, and proceed to debate upon
the particular proposals. The Earl of Pembroke
agreed with the noble mnrquia, and the lay part
of the commiasioners, particularly on the king's
side, would willingly have passed over this point
altogether; but the clergymen were of a different
opinion, and Dr. Stewart desired that they mighi
dispute syllogistically, as became scholars. "And
in that way," says Rusbworth, " they proceeded.
. , . But the arguments on both parts were too
lat^ to be admitted to a place in this story."

Tub TBBATT-Hntr
J. W. Anh

The parliament commisaionera prefiented four
propositions concerning religion. On none of
these points would either party yield a hair's
breadth; and the royal commissioners objected
in limine that the king's cod science would never
allow him to consent to these changes in religioti.
But there were also other articles about which
Charles wna equally tenacious, and the parlia-
ment eqiutily resolute; and, after tweuty days of
debate and wrangling, nothing was settled, no-
thing nuide clear to both parties, except that they
must again have recourse to tiie sword; and at
the expiration of those twenty days, the term ori-
ginally fixed for the duration of the negotiations,
the parliament recalled their commissioner^.'

While the Episcopalians and Presbyterians

were disputing syllogistically at Uxbridge, their

< fiu«-.Ainjt. IFkMari; Ma); Clapfluton. Syarwict.

.PR I. 543

respective parties had many fierce skirmishes in
the field; for though the main army on either
side lay inactive in winter-quarters, there wsa no
restraining the animosity of partizans, who car-
ried on an incessant but petty warfare in most
parts of the kingdom. There waa a perplexing
series of sieges uid assaults, night surprises anil
pitched battles, between small troops of Kound-
heada and Cavaliers, men that took their instruc-
tions from no one but themselves, and that fought
whenever they found an opportunity. The town,
the Tillage, was often enthusiastic in tlie parliH-
ment's cause, white the neighbouring castle or
mauoivhouse was just as enthusiastic for the king.
At times a sortie from the castle or manor-house
would disturb the burghers and yeomen at dead
of night, and leave them to lament the burning
of their houses and bams, the carrying off of their
cattle ; and then there gene-
rally followed a siege of the
castle or manor-house, which,
from want of artillery and mil-
itary skill, would often be
prolonged through tedious
months, and fail at last, and
be raiaed at the approach of
Prince Rupert and bis flying
squadrons of horse, or of some
other body of the king's army.
Many of these episodes were
interesting and romantic iu the
extreme : in some of them the
high-bom dames of the land,
whose husbands were away
following the banner of their
sovereign, made good the
castle-walls against the pai'-
liamentury forces, and com-
manded from tower and bai'-
bican like brave soldiers.
But we must confine our-
selves to the greater operations which decided
this war.

" When the spring began," says the somewhat
partial May, " tlie war was renewed on both sides
with great heat and courage, ... Sir Thomas
Fairfax went to Windsor to his uew-moilelled
army; a new army indeed, made up of some re-
mainder of the old one, and other new raised
forces in the countries; an army seeming no way
glorious either in the dignity of its commanders
or the antiquity of soldiers. For never hardly
<lid any army go forth to war who had less of
the confidence of their own friends, or were more

I, uul bqa oiLdwf quo coDudormbia

»Google

5ii

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cmc A

a MiLITAKT.

the objects of tlie contempt of their eneniiea, and
yet who did more br&vely deceive the expecta-
tioDB of them both, and ehow how far it wm poa-
Bible for human conjectures to err. For in their
following actionn and succesaea they proved such
excellent soldiers, that it would too much pose
antiquity, among all the campa of their famed
heroes, to find a parallel to this army. . . . For
tho usual vices of camps were here reati-aioed;
the discipline was strict; no theft, no wanton-
ness, no oaths, nor any profane words, could es-
cape without the aevereat castigaUon; by which
it waa brought to pass that in this camp, as in a
well-ordered city, passage was safe and commerce
free."' At the opening of tho campaign, how-
ever, the king, to all appesfance, bad many ad-
vantages over the parliament. His troops, though
frequently mutinous, as well as disorderly and
ditaolute, were well trained and tried in the field;
bis fortreases were very numerous; from Oxford,
in tbe centre of the kingdom, he controlled the
greater part of the midland counties; the west
was almost wholly for him; he still retained some
places in the north ; and he waa nndiaputed mas-
ter of the principality of WaJea. Fairfax's first
operation was to detach 7000 men to the relief of
Taunton, where Blake, tbe heroic defender of
Lyme, waa hard preaaed by tbe royalists. Colonel
Weldon led the detachment, and at his approach
the beleagnerers of Taunton fled without fight-
ing. On the other side, Prince Bupert, advanc-
ing from Worceater to join the king at Oxford,
defeated Colonel Massey, who tried to bar his
paaaage with a part of the garrison of Gloucester,
drawn out at Ledburv. Upon this aerioua reverse,
the committee of both kingdoms recommended
that Oliver Cromwell should be employed pro
tempore, in apite of the Self-denying Ordinance,
and despatched with part of the cavalry to guard
the roada between Ledbnry and Oxford.

Cromwell, who was at bead-quarters, marched
apeedily from Windsor, and with great facility
vanquished a. part of tiie king's force at Islip-
bridge in Oxfordshire. A portion of the fugi-
tives took shelter in Bletchington House. Crom-
well beueged them, and forced them to aurrender.
Charles waa ao enraged against Colonel Winde-
bank, who aurrendered Bletchingtou House, that,
in spite of prayers and remonstrancea, he had
bim ahot for cowardice. Fairbs then designed
to besiege the king in Oxford, but Charies, re-
aolving not to be cooped up in a town, marched
out with 10,000 men. But on moving from Ox-
ford, Charles waa joined by Prince Rupert, as
niao by tlie forces under Prince Maurice. At
first, Fairfax followed him with all the force he
could get together; but soon, retracing hie atepe,
he inveated the city of Oxford, while Cromwell,

leaving the army, rode off to the eastern counties,
whither it was at first suspected Cbarlea was di-
recting his march. The king, however, moved
to the north-west, to relieve Cheater. The par-
liamentarians raised the siege at hia apprmieb,
and retreated into lAncaahire. It waa appre-
hended that Cbarlea intended to join hia army
with the triumphant forcea of Montrose in Scot-
Uuid; and tbe Scottish army iu England, which
then advancing to the south-east, hastily fell
back upon Westmoreland and Cumberland to
guard the approacbea to Carlisle and tbe weatem
Borders. But Charles, after hia ancceaa at Chea-
ter, turned round to the south-east, and aoon
carried the important city of Leicaater by assault.
This movement revived all the apprebenaiotis
about the aaaociated countiea in the east; and
Fairfax, abandoning tbe liege of Oxford, marched
into Northamptonshire, where he arrived on tiie
7th of June. His friend Cromwell was then in
thelale of Ely, most actively organizing the mi-
litia there. At this critical moment, Fairfax and
a general council of war, which he had odled,
requested the House of Commooa to dispense
again in Cromwell's case with the Self-denying
Ordinance, and appoint him lientenant-general,
that second post in the army, which in all proba-
bility had purposely been left vacant from the
beginning tot Maater Oliver. The house, which
must have known by this time that no man ao
entirely poaaessed the confidence of tbe cavalry
and of a great part of the army, sent him down
a commiasioQ ss lieutenant-general for three
mouths ; and Cromwell joined Fairfax just in
time to be present at that great battle which waa
to decide the important queation, "what the li-
bertiea and laws of England, and what the king's
power and prerogative, should hereafter he.*

The king, whose head-quarters were at Daven-
try, was amusing himself with field-sports, and
his troops were foraging and plundering in all
directions, when, on ths 11th of June, old Sir
Mannaduke Langdale brought him news of the
unexpected approach of Fairfax. The royaliat
outpoata were concentrated and strengthened ;
but, on the morning of the ISth, Fairfax beat
tliem up at Borongh-hill, and spread tbe alarm
into tbe very lodginga of the king. The parlia-
mentarians, however, who were then very weak
in cavalry, did not think fit to venture any fur-
ther att«nipt, and Fairfax "propounded' tlutt
the horse of Lincolnshire, Derby, and Notting-
ham shonid be drawn tl)at way with all conveni-
ent speed. The unexpected march of the enemy
up BO close to him, "being in a manner a aiir-
priae,* His majesty on the morrow (the 13th)
thought fit to decamp, designing to march to tbe
relief of Pontefract and Scarborough. He there-
fore fired his huts, despatched hia carriages to-

,v Google

i.D. 1644-l(i4(i.] CHAR

wartla Uarboroiigh, and followed after them.
■ Oil the same morning of tlie I3th, at about siK
o'clock, Fnirfnx called a coiincit of war, and, in
the midat of their debates, to the exceeding joy
of the whole army, Lieutenant-general Cromwell
reached head-quarters with a choice regiment of
(iOO horse raised by the associated counties of the
east. Then all deliberation and hesitation were
at an end, the drums beat, the truiupets soiiuiled
to horse, and the whole bodyof parliament;! nans
were drawn up under arms, t'i'omwell pointed
the way tliey were to go, and presently horae and
foot were in full pursuit of the king. Harrison,
then a major, was sent forward to rcconiiolti'e,
and Colonel Ireton turned from the main road
in order to get upon the llank of the royalists.
Fab-fax and Cromwell, with the main body, kept
on the rond to Harborougli, at which town, and
at eleven o'clock at night, Charles was warned
of the close pursuit by Iretou's tailing upon his
outposts, and giving an alarm to the whole army.
The king called a council of war. He put the
question what was best t« be done, seeing that
the enemy was bo near, and evidently bent upon
battle. 'The council resolved to put it toabattle.
Inking themselves to be more strong in horse
than Fairfax, and to be much better furnished
with old experienced commanders.'
On Saturday, June the 14th, by three o'clock

HiBtn Batiib n

hiriaj l>7 Ihikca.

iu the morning. Fairfax put himaelf in march
from Gilling t« Naseby, At five o'clock he halted
close to Na^eby, and shortly after Mveral bodies
of his majesty's horae showed themselves on the

-ES I a 13

top of a hill in buttle array. Presently columns
of infantry marched into poaition, and Fairfax,
being convinced that the royalists meant to bide
the brunt, drew up and faced them on the brow
of a gentle hill. Hia right wing, consisting of
six regiments of horse, was commanded by ("rom-
well; the left wing, composed of five regiments
of horse, a division of 200 liorae of the anmcia-
tion, and a party of dragoons, was, at Cromwell's
request, committed to the management of the
gallant Iretou, who was for that purpose made
commisBary-genemI of horse; Fairfax and Skip-
pontook charge of the main body; and the I'e-
serves were headed by C >lonel3 Eainsborough,
Hammond, and Pride. In tlie king's army, Prince
Bupert, with his brother Priuce Maurice, led the
right wing, and Sir Marmaduke Ijiugdale the
left, Charles in periMQ taking the command of
the main body; the Earl of Lindsay and Sir Ja-
cob Astley, the Lord Baird and Sir George Lisle,
headed the reservea. The two armies were pretty
equal as to numbera, there not being the difier-
ence of COO men between them. The field-word
of the royalists was " God and Queen Mary!"
that of the parliament, " God our strength !"
The royalists began the battle, "marching up in
good order a swift march, with abundance of
alacrity, gallantry, and resolution." As iu other
battles, fortune at first seemed to flatter Charles,
for the left wing of the parlianient was
worsted by the furious onslaught of
llupert. Ii-eton was wounded in the
thigh with a pike, in the face with a
halbert, and liis horse being killed
under him, he was made prisoner,
and kept by the royalists during the
greater part of the battle. Eu|)ert,
however, with his ububI rashness, s])nr-
i-ed on too far; the scattered foot rallied
in his rear round their guns; and the
broken horse of the left wing formed,
closed, and rode up to support the cen-
tre and the right. Cromwt-U's charge,
though gallantly met liy Sir Marma^
duke Ijiiigdale, was brilliant and de-
ciBive : after firing at dose charge and
standing to it at the sword's point, the
left wing of the royalists was broken,
and driven far beyond all the king's foot.
Therewas terriblefighling after this: the unflinch-
ingSkippon was dangerously wounded,and Crom-
well was several times in peril Put a tremeu-
dona charge, conducted by the parliamentarians

■ RniiKTlli. AoHinling to Ludlow, the king diapliad "tfas |
new modal.- u It wh alkd. iHaiiH m»tat the old oaHn
■om rflher omitted hj ths jurlisnuiit, or hid quilled tlieir ',

■■Kingsd him b) risk t1» bMlle. Charica sad hi* (Heiidt bail I
wit jat leimad to ftppradite tbo biUKut ihUih of CiDmirall,

VouU.

> .Vueb; ii 1 Tllltga nev W
rha A,UI of katlle. soiialating of
n ISM >>j the loid iif the muioi

1 nitlabla InwilpUoii ti

»Google

546

flrSTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CiVTL AND MiuTAnr.

from several points at onc«, completely broke up
tiie last steady body of the king's infantry. Ac-
(.-ording to Clarendon, Rupert's cavalry thought
they had acted their parts, and could never be
brought to rally again iit order, or to chaige the
enemy.' They stood, with the rest, spiritless and
inactive, till Cromwell and Fairfax were ready
to charge them with horse and foot, and to ply
them with their own artillery. Despair made
Charles courageous, and, placing himself among
them, he cried out, "One charge more, and we
recover the day!" but he could not prevail with
them to stand the shock of horse, foot, and ord-
nance, and they presently fled in disorder, both
fronts and reserves, hotly pursued by Cromwell's
horse, who took many prisoners. Charles left
liehind him on the field 6000 prisonere, including
an immense number of officers of all ranks, be-
sides many of his household servants. There were
also taken twelve brass pieces of ordnance, two
raortar pieces, BOOO stand of arms, forty barrels
of powder, all the bag and baggage, the rich pil-
lage which the royalist soldiers liad got just be-
fore at Leicester,* above 100 colours, the king's
liaggage, several coaches, and his majesty's pri-
vate cabinet of papers and letters, which last
were a means of sealing his doom. Five days
before the battle of Naseby Charles had written
to tell his wife that, without being over-sanguine,
he could afRnn that, since this rebellion, his af-
fairs were never in so fair and hopeful a way;
but this afternoon, as he fled from the fatal field,
it must have been in almost utter hopelessness.*
With Cromwell's horse thundering close in his
rear, he got into Leicest«ri but, not judging it
safe to remain there, he rode off the same even-
ing to Ashby de la Zouch; and thence passed on
to Lichfield, and so by Bewdley, in Worcester-
shire, to Hereford. At Hereford, Prince Rupert,
before any decision was takeu as to what the
king should do next, left his uncle, and made
haste to Bristol, that he might put that place into
a condition to resist a powerful and victorioos
enemy, which he had reason to believe would in
It short time appear before it. Meanwhile Fair-
fax marched with his victorious army to Leices-
ter, which was soon surrendered to him, and,
leaving agarrison there, he moved westward, that
he might both pursue the king and ntise the

> Th* logvUrt hlrtvian, hen *■ abg'bin*, amptiliu bltUrlr
Df the wut (rf dlmipllB* In tb> kln^tinaj, ud doo HiDMhlng
bka Jvtlv to CzDmwil uid FftlilU, mod the troo|« tiitj com-

■ Chuinhad mt dovD btftn ttltftat m ib» SOOi at Itmj,

uul curled th* plus b^ •■suit on tin wma dij. Tha pultk-
rnCDt'i giurUon ■amiid«nd thonuelvfli priionsn: tin town 9X-

; Uay; aarfUn; Warrlet; Igilltw,

siege of Taunton. The day after the battle the
tord-general sent Colonel John Fiennes and bis
regiment up to London with the prisoneta and
colours taken, and with a short letter to the
speaker of the House of Commons, wherein Fair-
fax humbly desired that the honour of this great,
never-to-l«-forgotten mercy might be given to
God in an extraordinary day of thanksgiving.
Cromwell, on the day of the battle, wrote to the
parliament, averring that this was none other
but the hand (rf God, and that to Him alone
belonged the glory. "The general," continued
Cromwell, "served you with all faithfulness and
honour, and the best commend^ion I can give
him ia, that I dare say he attributes all to Qod,
and would rather perish than assume to himself.
.... Honest men served you faithfully in this
action. Sir, they are trusty; I beseech you in

the name of Ood not to discourage them

He that vmturet hit life for the liberty of hit eouH'
tri/, I lEiih he trast Qod for the liberty of hit COR-
icience, awi you for the liberty he fghtt for."*
But these letters were far inferior in interest to
the epistles taken in the king's cabinet, now pub-
licly read in London at a common hall, before
a great assembly of citizens and many membeni
of both Houses of Parliament, where leave was
given to as many as pleased or knew the kin^^s
hand-writing to peruse and examine them all, in
order to refute the report of those who stud that
the lett«r8 were counterfeit. And shortly after,
a selection from them was printed and published
by command of parliament! "From the reading
of these letters," says May, " many diacourses
of the people arose. For in them appeared his
transactions with the Irish rebels, and with the
queen for assistance from France and the Duke
of Lorraine. Many good men were sorry that
the king's actions agreed no better with his words.
. They were vexed also that the king was
80 much ruled by the will of his wife as to do
rerything by her preaeript, and that peace, war,
religion, and parliament should be at her dia-
posal. It appearMl, besides, out of those letters,
with what mind the king treated with the par-
liament at Uibridge, and what could be hoped
for by that treaty,'* The reading of these letters
ia generally considered t« have been as fatal to
luse as the field of Naseby where they were
taken. The royalists themselves were startled
by his eontemptuouB ingratitude; and men who
had hitherto inclined to royalty began to lose all
respect for his character.

From tliis time nothing prospered with the
king. From Hereford he proceeded to Bagland
Castle, near the Wye, the seat of the Marquis
of Worcester, where, strange to say, be pftned
days and weeks in sports and ceremonies. Fair-

\i>imTih. ' An. ffM. Fail.

,v Google

A.D. 1644-1646.] CHAE

fax did not follow him into Soath Wales, but
marched rapidlj into the west, where Taunton
was relieved merely by the rumour of his ap-
|)roack.' When Bupert had done bis best in

RAauxD CUTLi.— Froi

s pbotagragih.

garrisoning Bristol, he crossed the Severn to
Chepstow, and there bad an interview with his
uncle. But Charles was now irresolute, and, in-
stead of facing the danger in the west of Eng-
land, where his parLizans were stil) numerous
and powerful, he withdrew to Cardiff, where he
did nothing but press bis negotiations with the
Irish Catholics. Fairfax in the meantime cxintin-
ued hia brilliant operations in the west, urged on
by the spirit and guided by the military genius of
Cromwell. Having disperxed an irregular force
of clul^men. and having defeated Goring at Lang-
port, Fairfax appeared before the very strong
and very important town of Bridgewater, which
surrendered on the i3d of Jaly. These reverses
made erven Prince Bupert advise a peace. The
king acknowledged that his cause was all but
desperate, and that his friends must expect either
to die for a good cause or to live miserably under
the violence of insulting enemies; yet he told his
nephew tluit he must not in anyway condescend
"to hearken after treaties." "Low aa I am," be
continued, " I will not go less than what was
offered in my name at Uxbridge."

In the truly regal halls of Ragland CaBtle,and
in the slateiy ceremonies of the court, Charles

I 547

had recovered his spirit and his hopes, which
rested not merely on the coming of troopa
from Ireland and troops from the Continent, but
also on the wonderful succesaea of the Marquis
of Montrose. That daring adventurer, whose
bom loyalty was kept in life aaid beat by a
deadly hatred of the Covenanting Eai'lof Argyle,
and perhaps also by some yearning after that
nobleman's honours and estates, had ]ienetrateil
into Scotland early in 1644, and hod kiken Dum-
fries ; but finding that he could not keep his
ground, and that bis friend Antrim was not ar-
riving from Ireland with his promised levies, he
soon fled back into England. After the battle
of Marstou Moor he recrossed the Border in dis-
guise, and hid himself in the Highlanda until
the appearance of about 1200 Irish, whom Antrim
bad sent over. These wild, undisciplined, ill-
armed Irish were joined by about 2000 Qigb-
landera as wild and as badly armed as them-
selves; and it was with tliis force that Montrose
took the field to restore Chai'lea to bis plenitude
of power. His old enemy Ar^jle, now lieutenant
of the kingdom, and Lord Elcbo, marched against
from difierent points, and each with far aupe-
forces. But Montrose bad a wonderful quiek-
1 of eye, a sort of instinct for this loose kind
of warfare, aud his half-naked Highlanders and
Irish marched and counter -marched with per-
plexing rapidity. He surprised Elcho at Tipper-
nniir, in Perthshire, defeated him thoroughly,
and shortly after captured the town of Perth,
where the Highlanders plundered the citizens,
uotwi lbs landing their profession of affection to
the royal cause. But the Highlauders got rich
too fast for Montrose, and the mass of them now
left his standard to return with the booty they
bad made to tbeir native mountains and fast-
nesaea, and few were left bita beyond the wilil
Irish, who could not retreat because the Earl of
Argyle had burned the shipjrtng which brought
them over. Tliat Covenanting nobleman now
approached ; and, abandoning Perth as untena-
ble, Montrose turned northward, in the expecta-
tion of being reinforced by the whole clan of the
Gordons. Two thousand seven hundred men ha'!
taken post at the Bridge of Dee to intercept bis
passage, but the northern guerilla crossed at a
ford above, fell upon their ftank, defeated them,
and di-ove them before bira to Aberdeen, which
unfortunate town waa entered pell-mell by High-
landers, Irish, and flying Covenanters, aud made
the scene of slaughter, pillage, and abomination.
Four years before, whe^ Aberdeen stood for the
king, and when Montrose was fighting for the
Covenant, he had committed or permitted equal
atrocities. But Argyle still followed, aud after
two or three days, the Highlanders and Irisli
were obliged to abandon Aberdeen as they had

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a:

) MlLITABr.

abandoned Ptrth. MontrOBB led them north-
ward to the Spej; and, aa Argyle still pursued,
he buried hia artilleiy in a morass, and hurriedly
ascended the stream by its right bank, till he
reached the moUDtainsof Badenoch. Fromtliose
rugged beigliU he desoended again iuto Athole,
despatched Macdonald of the Isles to recall the
Highlanders, and ))e]ietrated into the county of
Forfar, where he was disapfminted again in his
expectation of beiug joined hy the Gordons and
other clans, and almost enveloped by the troops
of Ai^yie. He, however, deluded the Covenan-
ters with skilful Bti'atagema, and once more got
back to the mountains of Badenoch. By this
time the few Iiowlanders and soldiers of fortune
that had followe<l him nere c<>m])1etely worn out
by these tucessaut forced marches and counter-
marches; and, taking an unceremoniouH faivwell
of him, they ran away in search of an easier life.
Argyle and bis Ooveiiantere, not leaa fatigued,
retired iuto winter-quartem. The earl himself
withdrew to his castle of Inverary, at the head
of Loch Fyne, "where be hived himself securely,
supposing no enemy to be witliin 100 miles of
him." But when he eue|>ected nothing less, the
trembling cowhenla came down from the hills,
and told Argyle the enemy was witliin two miles
of him. And this wan no false alarm, fur Mon-
trose, reinforced by clans of Highlandera, had
braved the winter snows and the mountain storms,
and, crossing moor and morB:is, burning and
destroying as he went, had got t« the shores of
Loch Fyne, and almost under the shadow of the
hill on which the old castle of Inverary stood.
As the Earl of Argyle had put a price upon the
marquis's head, and as Montrose was a man not
likely to forget such a compliment, he for a mo-
ment, though no coward, as the royalists have
absurdly represented him, trembled for his own
head, and he only saved himself by leaping into
a fishing-boat and pushing across the loch. Then
Montrose, dividing his army into three irregular
columns, ranged over the whole conntrj' of Ar-
gyle, and laid it utterly waste. No mercy was
shown to the clansmen of the fugitive earl — slight
mercy to any of the clans that had triendrfiip or
alliance with him. The villages and cottages
were fired; all their cattle destroyed or driven
away; and these things lasted from the 13th of
December, 1644, to the end of January following.
Tlien, departing out of Argyleshiru, Montrose
led his Irish and his Highlanders through Lorn,
Glencoe, and Aber, hi Loch Ness, in order to en-
counter the Earl of Seaforth, a nobleman very
powerful in those parts ;"but, learning that Ar-
gyle had gathered forces out of the Lowlands, and
joined to them such Highlanders as yet adhered
to him, and had reached Inverlochy, an old
castle upon the bank of Lochaber, he thought

fit to fight him first; and so, passing by a private
unnsual way, straight over the Lochaber Hills,
he again came upou him unawares. It was niglit,
but on the morrow, being Candlemas Day, the
2d of February, lC4fl, the battle fairly began,
and the prime of the Campbells charged very
bravely; but when it came to dint of sword they
could not stand, but retreated in disorder, anti
the Montrosioiis pursued them with great slaugh-
ter for several miles; " so tliat it was reckoned
there were near !o00of them slain." After his
victory, Montrose was joined by the Gordons,
and by other clans of less note. On tlie 3d of
April, about mtdnigiit, he set out fi-om Dinikehl,
then his head -quarters, ajid marched with such
expedition that he was at Dundee by ten o'clock
the next morning, summoning tliat ill-fortified
town. The townspeople, knowing that a consi-
derable force was near at hand to relieve them,
maile the beut defence tliey could, but Munti-ose
burst into the place. His wild traops, however,
had scarcely begun to plunder, when he was
warned that the Coveiiantere were at hand; acid
thereupon he ordered an instant retreat. He
again made his escape to the mountains. Fur
tlireescoi-e mites together he had been either in
fight or upon a forced march without provisioua
or any refreshment. His next appearance was at
Aldeam, a village near Nairn, where there waa
a kind of drawn game; and a bloody game it was,
for 2000 men, Highlanders and Irish— we can
hardly call them royalists — auil Covenanters and
parliamentarians, were left dead upon the spot.
This was on the 4th of May,a litUe more than a
mouth before the battle of Naseby. Moutroae
claimed the victory, and it waa reported aa an
important one to Charlea, whose spirits were
greatly revived thereby.

The king had scarcely I'eceived these tidinpi,
when Montrose gained another victoiy. The Co-
venanters had been pursuing him with far su-
perior numliers under Baillie and Urty, who
committed the folly of dividing their forces and
following him into the mountains, when Mon-
trose met them at Alford, charged thein with hii
wonted ability, and drove them from the deld.

The southern march of the Scottish army in
England under Leven was not so rapid as had
been expected. Tliis army must have fell tliat
their presence might be required for the defence
of their own country. Leven, however, aft«r
re<lucing and garrisoning the important city of
Carlisle, detached part of his forces igto Lanca-
shire, to assist Sir William Brerelou; "but the
gross of bis army hovered to and fro, aometimea
advancing southward, and sometimes relreatiiiK,
aa being, 'tis likely, apprehensive of the king's
breaking northwards to join with Montrose.''

»Google

♦.D lG44-ie4e.] CHAT

But, in the eud of June, the Scots Advanced to
Nottiugham; bj the 2d of Julj they were at
MeltOD-Mowbray, whence thej pushed forwiiril
by Tamworth and Biriuingham into Worcester-
ahire and Hei-efordahire, effectiiaJly preventiug
the roynJiats frum making any new levies in those
larta. On tlie 22d of July they took by storm
Canon-Froom. Un the 3ath of July the Scotd
sat down before the strong or well-defended waJ la
of Hereford. This pressed close npon the king,
who was collectiug recruits iu the counties of Moii-
moath and Gbmorgan. Cliarles was thus driven
. into action, and ho moved from Cardiff with 3(KX)
hor«e in good coudition, and with some hundreds
of newly levie<l infantry. At lirat the king fan-
cied be could raise the siege of Hereford, and he
showed his well-ap)iotnted columns of horse iu
the neighbom'hood; but he was presently obliged
to renounce this project as hupelesa, and to dis~
niisa all liie foot. He then resolved with llifl
cavalry alone to open bis way to the Scottish
borders, where it is quite certain be had con-
certed a meeting and junction with Montrose.
The brave Sir Marmaduke langdnle devised and
guided the march, and the cavalry swept across
the country from the Wye to the Trent, and from
t)ie Trent to the Uoii, without opposition. But
by the order of tbe Eiirl of Leven, Sir Daviil
Leslie, with nearly tbe eutii-e cavalry of tbeScot-
tUh amiy in England, was now in full pursuit,
and Poyntz and Rossiter, who commanded tbe
English forces in the north, were advancing in
another direction. Charles, who had got aa far
as Doncastcr, halted, wavered, and then turned
lack, giving up bis bold plan of getting to Scot-
laud, and only hoping to be able to regain hie
strong quarters in the south at Oxford. As Sir
David Leslie bad n double object — that is to pre-
vent the king's reaching Scotland, and to check
the Buccexses of Montrose there— and as the latter
was now the more important operation, he dii]
not turn to punue Charles, but rode forward to-
wards tbe Borders. Thus unmolested in his rear,
the king fell back upon Newark. There he con-
ceived that, by rapid marches, he might Cake the
associated counties in the east, tbe coimtry of
Oliver Cromwell, which bad done so much against
him, by surprise, and scatter their unaided foot
levies. Proceeding by Stamford, he rushed into
Cambridge and Huntingdonshire, ravaging tbe
whole open country, and taking the town of
Huntingdon by assault on the 24th of August.
He gave Cambridge several alai-nis, but then
drew off and went to Wobum. From Wobum
he went ki Dunstable, and then crossing Buck-
inghamshire, he got to Oxford on the Sfilh of
August. At Oxford, or a short time before he
got there, Charles was greeted with iutelligence
from Scotland. Montrose, crossing tlie Forth a

L£S I. 549

little above Stirling, bad directed his march
across tbe narrow isthmus which separates the
Frith of Forth from the Frith of Clyde, and which
equally opened to him the roads U> ICdinburgb
and to Glasgow. BaiJIie and the Covcnaiitei-s
came np with him on the lE>tb of August at Kil-
syth, a village adjacent to the Boman wall, anil
not far from Stirling; but they were defeated and
slaughtered in heaps, no quarter being giveu.
The Covenanters lost all their artillery, arms, and
ammimition. The Earl of Argyle and the chief
nobles of that party fled by sea to England, the
city of Glasgow opened its gates to the blood-red
conqueror, and the magistrates of Edinburgh im-
me<liately liberated all tlieir royalist prisoners or
friends of Montrose, and sent delegates with them,
beseeching his favour or mercy to the city, anil
promising all obedience to the king. If Cliarlct
had penevered and succeeded in his march north-
ward— if he bad joined Montrose, as he possibly
might have done, immediately after the victory
of Kilsyth— his chance, at least in Scotlaiiil,
would have been wonderfully improved. But
still it was but a chance, and all that could have
happened, even in that case, would have been
the jirolongiiig of the war for one or two cam-
paigns more; fur whatever was the backsliding
of some of the nobles, or tbe timidity of some of
the great towns, the spirit of the Scots was un-
broken, the Covenanters were as I'eaulute as ever
to maintain their solemn bond, and the Low-
landers, almost to a man, were infuriated at. the
atrocities committed by the wild hordes from the
Highlands and from Ireland. And then, in Eng-
land all opposition waa falling prostrate before the
euei'gies uf Cromwell and Fairfax, and, if needful,
a victorious and most highly disciplined army
of 20,()00 enthusiastic Englishmen would bavo
crossed the Borders within a month. But Charles,
aa we have seen, scoured back to Oxford, and
David Leslie alone, as we shall see, was sutHcient
tocrush Montrose. In fact, immediately after hbi
great victory, Montrose was brought to a pause,
for most of the Highland tril>e8 that followed
him returned to tlieir mountAina to secure their
plunder; and though he hod overrun the coun-
try in a desultory war, the success of which wai
mainly owing to ita suddenness and rapidity, he
had acquired no fortified place, nor established
any durable foundation in tbe Lowlands. He
hanged a few ince/idiartea at Glasgow, and rashly
advanced southward, expecting to meet at least
a reinforcement of cavalry from England. In tbe
meantime, David Leslie, wiih his horse, had got
to Gladsmuir, in East Lothian, his design origi-
nally being to throw himself between Montrose
and the Forth; and the Kirl of Leven, abandon-
ing the siege of Hereford, was falling back to-
wards tlie Borders nith the main body of tlie

»Google

550

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil i

> MlLITAET,

Scottish army. The king left Oxford on the
31st of August, and went to Hereford, which
tity he entered in triumph. He then proposed
to cross the Severn to the ssBiatance of Prince
liupei-t, who was besieged in Bristol by Fairfax;
but he loi(«red uiul lost time — went agaJn to the
splendid castle of Raglund, and there received
news that hja nephew bad surrendered Bristol
on the nth of September. Chai'lea in the an-
guish of his heart aud the bitterness of his dis-
appointment— for Rupert had assured him that
he could keep Bristol for four months, and he
liad hardly kept it four days of siege — heapeil
reproaches u[ton his nephew, and even suapectad
him of treachery. He sent the prince an order
to i-esign all hia commissions and quit the conn-
try, and he ordered his arrest, iu case Uupert
slmuld be troublesome. Still believing Mon-
trose lo l-e master of alt Scotland, Charles once
more resolved to march into the north. He
reached the neighbourhood of Chester without
any reverse,' but the parliamentarians had taken
the suburbs of that city; Poyntz, with another
division, was advancing by a different road; and
on the 23d of September the royalists, on Row-

ton Heath, foand themselves between two lires,
being charged on one aide by the troops that had
taken the suburbs, and on the other by Poyutz.
The result, after several remarkable vicissitudes,
was the complete defeat of CharleH, who had &X)

battls at Rowton H

troopers slain, and lost more than 1000 pri-
soners. With less than half his horae (he had
no foot with him) he retreated to Denbigh, where
intelligence reached him that the game was up
with Montrose.

David Leslie, when on the east coast of Scot-
laud, was informed that Montrose was ailvancing
to tile south-west, his movements apparently
being in concert with those of Charles, who was
advancing, on his part, by the n'estem side of
England: and the Covenanter thereupou, with
all the Scottish horse, quitted the shores of the
Forth and luarched westward in the direction of
the Solway Frith. He came up with the- roya-
lists in Selkirk forest, and this time Montrose,
who bad so often surprised his adversaries, was
himself takeu by surprise and thoroughly beateu
near the village of Phihphaugh. The light-
heeled partizan escaped and got back to the High-
lands, but his army was utterly annihilated, and
many of his friends who had not fallen in battle
were executed by the Covenanters,

The person now in greatest credit and favour
with the unfortunate king was the whimsical.
wrong-headed Lord Digby, who had contrived
to quarrel with nearly every other man about the
court or camp. He was always making schemes
that cume to nothing, or writing secret letters
that never failed to be publicly known. Now,
in attempting to fight his way into Scotland with
a very inconsiderable force, he was beaten in
Yorkshire, and compelled to flee into Ireland.
He lost his portfolio, which -was takeu by the
parliamentarians, who soon published it cotiteuta.
The principal papers were letters from au Eng-
lish agent iu Holland to the Lord Jermyn, who
was living in the very closest intimacy with King
Charles's wife at Parisi letters from Ireland con-
cerning secret negotiations between the queen and
the Papists; and letters from the Lord Jermyn
to the Lord Digby himself, touching a treaty for
bringingover the Duke of Lorraine with aforeigu
army to the king's aseistauce, aud about aids to
be obtained from other foreign princes aud from
Alt kUuieutkepope. These letters— aud particu-
larly the parts of them which related to thequeeu
and to tlie Irish Papists— greatly enraged the
English people, and detached many of his adhe-
rents froiu the king.*

After Lord Digby'a catastrophe in Yorlcshire,
an end was put to all campaigning or fighting in
the open field, though there still remained much
for the pariiamentariaus to do in the way of siege
and blockade. Revolving many schemes, and
abandoning them as impracticable or dangerous,
the king remained for several days at Denbigh.
He then made up his mind for a movement upon
the Trent, and brushing across the country, he

,v Google

A.D. 1644—1546.] C'HAI

got to New&rk. Desjiising hia majesty's orders,
Prince Rupert came to Belvoir Caatle, ten miles
abort of Newark. Charles, greatlj incensed, com-
mauded Itim to stay -where he was. Bat Rupert
(iroceeded iDStautly to Newark, and Sir Richard
Wiliia, who waa govenior of that place, aud Oer-
rard, one of the king's principal otBcers, heeillew
of the king's commands, went out with an escort
of lOtl horse to meet the prince, Withont being
announced, and followed by a numerous retinue,
nil in arniB, Rupert presented himself before his
uncle, telling him that he was come to give an
account of his surrender of Bristol, and to clear
himself from unjust imputations which had been
cast upon him by his majesty and the Lord Dig-
by. Charles, gnatly embarraased, scarcely an-
swered a syllable. Violent and indecent alterca-
tions ensued, not only between the king and his
nephew, but nlso between his majesty and Sir
Richard Wiliia, the governor. Most of the offi-
cers present took part with Willis, holding up bis
raajeaty's chief adviser, Digby, as a traitor, and
defying the fallen kingly power by an act of
mutiny. Rupert and his brother, Prince Mau-
rice, with Sir Richard Willis, and about SOO
horse, insolently turned their backs upon New-
ark and the king, and rode to Belvoir Castle,
whence tliey sent one of their company to ask
from the parliament " leare aud paasports to go
beyond the seas." The commons readily sent
them the posees, but the two princes did not yet
quit England. They were subsequently recon-
ciled to their uncle, and shut up with him in
Oxford.

But the king himself could not long remain at
Newark, for the two parliamentarians, Poyntz
and Rossiter, were drawing every day nearer,
and believing they bad so encompassed him that
it would not be poesibte for him to get out of
their hands. His evasion, however, waa prepared
with great ekill. He travelled by night, he en-
dured great fatigue, he had several narrow es-
capes; but in the end he got safely into Oxford.
He, however, soon perceived that he could no
longer find security even there. Cromwell was
reducing in tspid succession all the royalist gar-
risous, and the king knew that he and Fairfax
were concerting the blockade or siege of Oxford.
Charles's council almost instantly propoaed a ne-
gotiation.

Ever since the reading of the king's lett«r8
taken at Naseby, the parliament, or a majority
of it, seems to have determined never to n^o-
tiato on tlie footing they had formerly done at
Oxford and Uxbridge; and as it had been ob-
served that his coinmisaioners had always la-
boured to BOW dissensions and carry on intrigues,
a resolution had been adopted, that no more of
1 should be admittvd. Accord-

L£S I. 551

ingly, when Chai-Ies applied for safe-conducts for
two noblemen, he met with a stem refusal. Still,
however, it seemed neither decent nor safe wholly
to reject terms of pacification, and the two houses
resolved to submit to him certain propositions, in
the form of parliamentary bills, for him to give
his assent to.

During these deliberations, the breach between
the Presbyteriana and Independents became wi-
der, and Charles fondly hoped to find a way
through it to the recovery of his former power.
The Scots, too, who had their army in the heart
of England, and who occupied some of the most
important of the garrisons, disagreed greatly with
the master minds that had now taken the. chief
direction of affairs; they suggested numerous re-
vises and alterations of the propositions to be
offered to the king, and they seemed quite ready
to throw their swords into the scale of their co-
religionists, the English Presbyterians. All this
caused long delays; but the problem would have
been sooner solved if Cromwell and Fairfax had
not deemed it expedient to finish their conquest
of the west of England, and reduce the rest of
the kingdom to the obedience of parliament, be-
fore commencing the siege of Oxford. The king,
it appears, was, on the whole, more willing to
deal with the ludependents than with the IVea-
byterians; but the queen, who, from France, con-
stantly snggeated plans, thought that more was

be gained from the Presbjrterians; and she
and other friends, both abroad and at home,
earnestly recommended htm to conclude a good
bargain with the Scots, to give up Episcopacy,
and to establish that exclusive Fresbyterianism
which seemed so dear, not only to all his subjects
north of the Tweed, but also to so large a portion
of the English people. But he would never yield
to this advice; and he applied again to parlia-
ment to be heard by his commissioners, or t« have
a personal conference with them himself at West-
minster. This letter waa presented at a moat
unfortunate juncture; for at that very moment
the committee of both kingdoms were communi-
cating to the two houses all the particulars of a
secret treaty between the king and the Earl
of Glamorgan, and between Glamorgan and the
Irish Papiats; and in the load storm that then
raged, the words of Charles could scarcely be
heard, and his letter was thrown aside wiUiout
an answer. It was found that the king had au-
thorized Glamorgan to treat with the Catholics
of Ireland, and to make them the largest pro-
mises, upon condition of their engaging to take
np arms and pass over in force to the English
coast. It appears, from Charles's own letters,
that he never intended to keep these liberal pro-
misee; that he meant to cheat them, or make
them "coien themselvea;" but it is quite certiua

,v Google

552

IIISTOHY OF EXGLAKD.

[Cl^lL ASD MiLlTABT.

that tbe promises were made in a solemn man-
ner, aod that, even without being ivad with ex-
a^eratin^' religious iDtoleninoe, they contained
ituitter to put in jeopardj all the Protestants in
Ireland, and to incenae all the Protestante in
England. Yet Cliarles, "on the faith of a Chris-
tian," denied to the parliament all knowledge of
(Jlamorgan's doings; and hia partizans declared
that the warranta bearing his name, which had
lieen foiuid in the baggage of the Catholic Arch-
I'iatiop of Tusni, slain in a skirmish near Stigo,
were mere forgeries. After snudry deceptive
tricks, Glamorgan collected aome 5000 men, whom
he led to Waterford, in order to relieve Chester,
where Lord Byrou was reduced almost to ex-
tremities by the parliamentarians. By the time
Glamorgan got to Waterford, he received news of
the proceedings at Westminster, and of tbe king's
public disavowal of his authority, warrant, &c.
liut the e&rl knew what this meant; the king had
idready instructed him "to make no other ac-
count of such declarations, than to put himself
in a condition to help his master, and set him
free;* end Glamorgan pressed forward his pre-
parations for shipping the troops. A much more
serioufl check was, the unwelcome news that
Chester had fallea.' Upon this intelligence Gla-
morgan dispersed his army; and then the king,
despairing of the Irish, thought seriously of tlie
Scots, whose dissensions with their allies, the
]>arliament, were now assuming to him a more
promising aspect than ever.

Montreuil, a Oench ambassador or special en-
voy, had now been for some time in England
negotiating secretly with the Scottish commis-
sioners in Loudon. He had brought with bim
the guarantee of his court to Charles, that if the
king would place himself in the hands of the
Scottish army, they would receive him as their
natural sovereign, without violence to his con-
science or his honour, protect him and his party
to their utmost, and assist him with their arms
in recovering his rights, be {the king) under-
taking in the like manner to protect them, to re-
spect their consciences, and so forth. The Scot-
tish commissioners proponed that Charles should
take the Covenant ; and they insisted, as a nne qua
noH, upon the establishment of Preabyteritmism.
Montreuil implored the king to yield the point
of Episcopacy; but Charles refused to do more
than promise, that when he should be with the
Hcottiah army he would submit to be instructed
l>y their preachers. Montreuil then posted away
lu Newark, in front of which the main body of
the Scots then liiy. The Frenchman was discon-
certed by the cold and firm tone of the officers
and commissioners with the army, who would
yield nothing, promise nothing, except that if the

king would come to them, they would receive
him with all honour, and protect his person.
The king, who always considered the Scots and
Presbyterians as the cause of all his misfortunes,
now thought that he would rattier tnist the In-
dependents, throw himself into the arms of a
part of the English army, and rely upon their
generous feelings and his own powers of persua-
sion. If he remained much longer in Oxford he
must inevitably be captured, for Colonel Kains-
borough was reducing Woodstock, and the armies
of the parliament were approaching ttom all
points. But Charles again turned his thoughts
to the Scots, thinking that they could best do his
business. He had not agreed " with regard to
the I'resbyterian government;" and the Scottish
commiaaionerB were, in all probability, informed
that he bad been, and was, down to the veij mo-
ment of bis flight from Oxford, tampering with
the Independents and promising to join them in
rooting Presbyteiy out of the kingdom. These
Scottish -commissioners would have sacrificed an

otherwise popular sovereign upon this sole point;
but Charles was anything but popular iu Scot-
land, where the blood of the slaughtered cried
aloud for vengeance upon him. The English
parliament and army might be iu a frame of
mind favourable to magnanimity; ever since the
battle of Naaehy they had been marching from
success to success, from triumph to triumph: but
in Scotland it was far otherwise; there that in-
terval of time had been filled almost entirely by
tbe victories of Montrose and the reverses of the
Covenanters. The civil war, too, as conduct«d
in England, had been all through chivalrous and
merciful, as compared with the unsparing car-
nage of Montrose's wild Highlanders and Irish.
Charles, therefore, had little to hope from the
humour of the Scottish commissioners; and the
characteristic wariness of those men was not
likely to permit them pledging themselvee in «
treaty, or in any direct bargain, mei-ely upon his
shifting and equivocating assurances. There is
not tbe shadow of a proof that any such treaty
or bai^iun was ever made. At the same time the
Scots were most certainly anxious to have the
' king in their power, being on the very verge of an
' open rupture with the English parlianient, which
stood indebted to them in large sums of money.
Montreuil, the French ambasandor, told the
kinginexpress terms that he could have little or
nothing to hope from the Scottish army; that the
commissioners of that army were neither to be
moved from their purpose nor to be trusted by
him; and yet Churtes, after thi» tnoneUdgr, clung
to the Scots with a desperate hope, though not,
as we believe, till sundry other wild schemes had
entirely failed. There was now no time to lose;
'. and, if Charies would escape th« htarot* of k

,v Google

I. 1G44 -1646.1

CHARLES L

553

siege certain to end in death or caplivity, he
muHt be gone at once. His sou, the Prince of
Wales, after being driven to Pendeniiis Csatif,
in Coruwall, had fled for safety to Scilly, and
tbeuce to Jersey, being attended by Clarendon,
Culpeper, aiid other inemberB of the couDcil.
Even the brave Sir Balph Hopton, now that he
nas ruined, created Lord Hopton, had been
obliged to cBpituInte and disband his forces; atid
Sir Jacob Astley, who bad collected some 20(X)
horse to cut his way to Oxford, was intercepted
at Stowe by the parliamentarinns, and made pri-
soner with many of his officers, Rod more than
half his men. " You have done your work,
my msstera," said Astley to bis captors, " and
may now go play, unless you choose to fall out
among yourselves." Wherever Ciomwell showed
biuiself, resistance soon ceaaed; and he waa now
approaching with Fairfss and the army of the
west upon Oxford, which was already surrounded
by 2000 foot and 300 horse. Woodstock was
surrendered to liaiuaborough. Whichever way
Charles looked, from tower or bastion, he saw
the fiag of the pariiament of England floating on
the breeze ; and itow, wherever he turned bim-
aelf withiu the loyal city of Oxford, he saw
dejection or discontent His very attendants
treated him with sullen diareapect ; and the
chances are, that, if he had stayed there, they
would, upon tlie arrival of Cromwell and Fair-
fax, have delivered him up to tha parliament.
Still, however, the unfortunate monarch feared
and doubted the Scots. Notwithstanding the
entire failure of his overtures to the ludepen-
denta, he addressed himself to Iretou, who was
then before Oxford; "being informed," says
Ashhumham, "that he was a man of great power
and credit with tlie soldiery, and very eameatly
affected to peace, he thought it fit to make tonu
trial of him, whetlier he would undertake to ac-
cept and protect his majesty's person upon the
former conditions; and to that purpose sent Sir
Edward Ford (his brother-in-law) to sound his
inclinations, with this assurunce, that, if he con-
eeuted, I should follow the next day with power
to conclude with him in those or any new mat-
ters he should propose in order to hie majesty's
reception. But, by his not Buffering any man to
return to Oxford, bis majesty found plainly that
he did not relish the discourse upon that subject,
and BO quit the thought likewise of any more ad-
vantage by him than by the others be had tried
before, . . . And now, his majesty, conceiving
, himself to bedischarged from all obligation which
by any way oould be fastened upon him by his
parliament, or by any authority derived from
them, settled his thoughts upon his journey to
the Scots army." But, according to Ashbum-
ham, Charies told his council at Oxford that he
Vol. II.

was going to smuggle himself into London, while
he had fully made up his mind to go to the Scots.
From other acoonnts, however, and from the cu-
riouB,wavering way in which the king proceeded,
it should appear that he was not decided whither
he should go, even when he had taken to the

On the 27th of April Fairfax and Cromwell
reached Newbury, within a day's march of Ox-
ford : about midnight Cliarles got ready for his
flight, submitting his beard to Ashburnham's
scissors, and disguising himself as that groom of
the chamber's groom. Hudson, the chaplain who
had gone and come between the head-quarters
of the Scots and Oxford, and who was, moreover,
well acquainted with the by-roada of the couu-
try, acted as guide; and between two and three
o'clock in the morning the party rode out of Ox-
ford by Uagdalen bridge, the kiug following
Ashbui'nham Ha grooms follow their masters, with
a cloak strapped round his waist. At the same
moment, parties like the royal one, of three iu-
dividuala each, went out of Oxford by the other
gates, in order to distract attention and embaiv
raas pursuit. Charles and his two companions
got through the lines of the parliamentariauf>,
and reached Henley-upon-Thamea without dis-
covery. From Henley, instead of turning di-
rectly north towards the Scots, they proceeded to
Slough; from Slough again they weut to Ux-
bridge, and from Uxbridge to Hillingdon, a mile
and a half nearer London. " Here,'' according
to Hudson, " the king waa much perplexed whnC
courae to resolve upon — London or northward.'
After a halt he rode across the country to Hai--
row, from whose pleasant hill his good steed
might have carried him into the heart of London
within an hour. But he turned off thence north-
wards towards St. Alban's. From St. Alban'.t
they made another circuit, and, by cross-roadH.
they got to Downham, iu Norfolk.' Here Charles
lay hid for four daya, awaiting the return of
Hudson, who had been sent forward to the lodg'
ing of Montreuil, at Southwell, near Newark,
with a little note from the king to that amba.t-
sador, desiring him to make an absolute conclu-
sion withthe Scots, and to tell them (for so say-t
Hudson) that, if they would offer " such honour-
able conditions for him as should satisfy hinii
then he would come to them; if not, he waa re-
solved to dispose otherwise of himself." Hudson
himself continues; — "I came to Southwell next
morning, and acquainted the French agent with
these particulars, who, on Thursday night (30th
of April), told me they would condescend to all
the demands which the king and Montreuil had

»Google

554

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cl\TL AND MlUTAftr.

nxreed to make to them before Montreuil came
from Oxford (of which Montreuii told me the
sum), but vrnvid not give anything under their
hand*. I desired, to avoid mistakes, that tlie par-
ticulan might be set down xa writing, test I
should afterwards be charged with mak iug a false
relation, and so lie (Montreuil) set the proposi-
tionB down in writing : — 1. That they should re-
ceive the king on his personal honour. 2. That
they should press the Itiug to do nothing coutraiy
to his conscience. 3. That Mr. Ashbumham and
I should be protected. 4. That, if the parlia-
ment refused, upon a message from the king, to
restore the king to his rights and prerogatives,
they should declare for the king, and take all the
king's friends under their protection; and if the
parliament did condescend to restore the king,
then the Scots should be a means that not above
four of them (the king's friends) should suffer
banishment, and none at all death. This done,
the French agent brought me word that the Scots
seriottsly protested the performance of all these,
and sent a little note to the king to accept of
them, and such security as was given to him in
the king's behalf."

This, be it remembered, is simply the statement
of Hudson, a most enthusiastic royalist, who had
thrown aside Kble and cassock for sword and
breastplate, and who delivered this confesHion to
the parliament of England at a moment when
that body was prepared to receive any evil im-
pressions against the Scots,and when the royalists
were still hoping to profit by the jealousies and
dissensions existing between the English com-
mons and the Scottish commissioners. But, even
tftking Hudson's words for all these particulars,
what doea tliis story amount to? Simply to this
— that Montreuil told him such and such things,
and that the Scots told him nothing. The assu-
rance was not given under the hands of the Scot-
tish conimissionem — even according io Hudson,
they absolutely refused to give anything of the
kind — but it was given, as he says, bg Montreuil,
who committed the particulars, or "set the pro-
positions down, in writing.' But even this paper
of MontreuirB, so important, if true, has nowhere
been preserved, while great care has been taken
of documents relating to this negotiation of far
less consequence. A doubt, therefore, may be
fairly entertained whether Montreuil ever really
wrote any such paper; and in no part of his
correspondence with his own conrt does he ever
pretend to have received any such formal agree-
ment. But again, was Charles so inexperienced
and single-minded a person as to pin his faith to
or rely upon such a document as this which Hud-
son says he received from the French envoy!
Clarendon, nearly always a prejudiced authority,
has been quoted as proving that a formal en-

gagement iras made by Montreuil with the Scot-
tish commissioners! but, if such an engagement
bad ever been made, Clarendon himself shows
that Charles placed no confidence in that engage-
ment; for he tells us that the king lurked about
the country "purposely to be informed of the
condition of the Marquis of Montrose.and to find
some secure passage that he might get to him.^
The fact appears to be, that Charles diverged
from the northern route and went into the east-
em counties on purpose to find some vessel on
that coast wherein to escape to Scotland, and that
he was deterred from the voyage by the risk and
danger of trusting himself to that element on
which the parliament of England rode trium-
phantly as masters. A frail vessel, one or two
great sliot, or a storm, might have terminated the
career of this unhappy prince without the clon-
ing scenes at Whitehall. A man who had lived
in the midst of perils, and had through many a
year faced them all, and revelled in them, was
appalled by somewhat similar dangers, and pre-
ferred surrendering himself b> his oldest or great-
est enemies; and, just as Napoleon went on board
the B^Urophon, did Charles go to the Scottish
camp — because he could go nowhere else^be-
cause every other possible way of proceediug
seemed infinitely more dangerous.

Hudson, continuing bis report, says, "I came
to the king on Tuesday, and related all, and be
resolved next morning to go to them ; and so
upon Tuesday morning we all came to Southwell
to Montreuil's lodgings, where some of the Scots
commissioners came to the king, and desired bim
to march to Kelham for security, whither w«
went after dinner.' This happened on the 5th of
May. "Many lords,' says Ashbumham, "came
instantly to wait on his majesty with professions
of joy to find that he had so far honout«d their
army as to think it worthy his presence after
so long an opposition," On this point, as on
others, there are discrepancies between the ac-
count ^ven by Ashbumham and the narrative
of Clarendon. The latter goes on to tay, "The
great care in the (Scottish) army was, that there
might be only respect and good manners showetl
towards the king, without anj'thing of affection
or dependence; and thei-efore the general never
asked the word of him, or any orders, nor wil-
lingly suff'ered tlie officers of the army to resort
to, or to have any discourse with his majesty."
And once, it appears, when the king ventured to
give the word to the guard, old Leslie, or Leven,
interrupted him, saying, "I am the older soldier,-
Sir; your majesty had better leave that ofGca

In the meantime the kin^s motions were kept
so secret that none could guess whither he was
gone; but it was generally reported tliat he waa

»Google

I. 1644—1646.]

CHARLES I.

555

gone for London, ami F^irf&x, who hiul now
drawn up his anny before Oxford, sent notice to
that effect to the two houses, who, on Monday,
May the 4th, only the day before Oharlea reached
the Scottish camp, caused an order to be pub-
lished by beat of drum and sound of trumpet
throughout London and Westminster, to this ef-
fect : — " That it be, and is hereby declared by the
lords and commonB in parliament assembled, that
what person soever shall harbour and conceal,
or know of the harbouring or concealing of the
king's person, and shall not revenl it immediately
to the speakers of both houses, shall be pi-o-
ceeded against as atraitor to- the commonwealth,
forfeit hie whole estate, and die without mercy."
Two days after this— that is, on the 6th of May —
the two houses received intelligence of the king's
being in the Scots army by means of letters from
Colonel Poyntz, and from their commissioners
before Newark. The commoua hereupon voted:
— " l.lbat the commissioners and genera! of the
Scots army be desired that hia majesty's person
be disposed of as both houses shall desire and
direcL 2. That his majesty be thence disposed of
and sent to Warwick Castle. 3. That Mr. Ash-
bumham suil the rest of those that came with
the king into the Scots quarters should he sent
for as delinquents by the serjeant-at'arma at-
tending the said house, or his deputy; and that
the commissioners for the parliament of England
residing before Newark should acquaint the Scots
general with these votes, and also make a narra-
tive of the manner of the king's coming into the
Scots army, and present it to the house." While
the houses were thus voting, old Leslie and the
Scottish commisaioDers were employed in writing
a veiy devout letter of explanation to the Bug*
lish parliament. "The king," they said, "came
into our army yesterday in so private a way tliat,
after we had made search for him, upon the sui^
misea of some peisoas who pretended to know
his face, yet we could not find him out in sundry
houses.' They declared that theyneverexpected
he wonld have come to them, or into any place
under their power. Next they said— "We con-
ceived it not 6t to inquire into tbe causes that
perauaded him to come hither, but to endeavour
that his being here might be improved to the
beat advantage, for promoting the work of uni-
formity, for settling of religion and righteousness,
and attaining of peace according to the League
and CoTenAnt and treaty, by the advice of the

parliaments of both kingdoms, or their o
sionere authorized for that effect. Trusting to
our integrity, we do persuade ourselves that none
will so far misconstrue us as that we intemled to
make use of this seeming advantage for promot-
ing any other ends than are expressed in the
Covenaut, and have been hitherto pursued by us
with no less conscience than care. And yet, for
further satisfaction, we do ingenuously declare
that there hath been no treaty nor capitulation
betwixt his majesty and us, nor any in our
names, and that we leave the ways and means of
peace unto the power and wisdom of the par-
liaments of both kingdoms." They appealed to
Heaven as a witness of their good faith and of
their honest and single desire to advance the
public good and common happiness of both king-
doms. They Sfud they had written to the com-
mittee of estates of Scotland upon the great busi-
ness of the kin^s going among them: and that
they at last hoped, after a seed-time of many
afflictions, to reap the sweet fruits of truth and

On the same day on which this letter was writ-
ten, Charles ordered the Lord Bellasis, the new
governor of Newark, to surrender that important
pkce; and, also on the same day, Newark, with
the castle, fortn, and sconces thereunto belonging,
was surrendered to the committee of both king-
doiuB, for the use of the parliament of England.
Charles had offered to surrender the place to the
Scots, which would have made a fresh garboil,
but Leven told him that, to remove all jealousies,
it must be yielded to the parliament of England,
Clarendon says that Charles's readiness on this
occasion proceeded from his fear that Fairfax
might be ordered to relinquish all other enter-
prises, "and to bring himself near the Scottish
ai-my, they being too near together already." It
is said, indeed, that the English commons at one
moment entertained the notion of throwing foi^
ward Oliver Cromwell with the entire mnaa of
their cavalry, in order to fall upon the Scots by
surprise, and to take the king away from them
by force; but in effect they only detached Poyntz,
who, with a party of horse and dragoons, fol-
lowed the Scots, and watched them on their
march northward from the Trent.

■ MHr I* ditail " BmUmall, Ma; ttaB ttb,
S. D., Hum*. Sic T. U. Cam, R. ot FneUuil, W. OleBduttjii,

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil akd Miutart.

CHAPTER XVI.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— A.D. 1646-

I.

Cbirlw tunp«ra witli tlie BcoU— Hia attempli to CDHcilimts tha pariitmsrt— Propouls mads to bim b; the par-
liuuent— Hi* rafiwal— Tfas Scottish army in England paid and diimiaaed— Thay deliver np Chftrlaa to tbe
parliuneDt—Aacenileney of FresbyttriKntun in England— Uuliaoua condit ion of tbeanny — Iti cauae idantifieil
vitb ludepcDdanay— FelitioD of ths aoldiara to pkrliamant — Thsir appuintmaat of adjntaton — Cromwall'a
intnpie* with tLe army—Tlis iriiij aeouna poueaaiou of tba king'i penoD— It kdTauesa tijioii Londoa til
OTerbbrovr the Pmbytarian goremmant—Propoaali of the olHcen to parlUtmeDt— Uoubla-diMjing of Cbarlts
with tba coDtendiug partiea — Bepublicaniiiu coming ioto faVoiir— Alarming dsaigni of tlie loldieis on tho
king— Ha makes hii eacnpe from Hfttiiptoo Court— Hia ftpprebanaioD and impriaonniant in the Itle of Wight —
Mutiny amoog tha nlrliecj (uppnaied by Crommll— Four pn^mtiitiona tnada by parliament to the king —
Cbariaa r^ecti theiD — Ha naolvga on a aecrst treaty with tha Ssota — Hia nnanccaaBful attempt to eacape from
tha Ilia of Wight— Alkrm in London at tha king*! tnating with the Bcota— A popular tumult — Kkiuga of
the royalUta, and their aupprcuion — Tba Scot* rise in aupport of royalty and FratbyteriMiiam— Their ariiiy
enter* England and i> defeated— The Earl of Holland atleiupla a riaing fur the king— He ia dafeatcd— la-
diasre:ice of Prince Charl« to tha captivity of liia fatber— Tha puliament aitenipta a B»w treaty with Charlei
--Cromwell break* the negotiation by leiiing the kiD^'a per«»— The army enters Iiond on —"Pride's Purge,"
by which the parliament it cleared of Prmbyterianiam— Tha reaidue called "the Ramp"— Charlea ramovoi
to confinement in Windeor Castle- Resolution of tlie parliament to bring Charlea to trial— Tbe Indepcndente
iiirt fur the purpose— Dsiueanoar of Charlea before tha court- The charges — Tbe king's ■niwera
s tba aothorily of tha court— Particular* of tha trial during aeveo daya— His aenlenoe— Hia
in pr:ea:i witli liis family— Hii beliaviour on the scijfolil- Hi» exeoutioii.

EWCASTLE was now the Bent of
the war, for " ware are not only
carried on by swonla and gunn, but
tongues and pens are co-instnimen-
whith, HB they had been ti>o
much em])lojed formerly, were not
The king Bounded some of tlie ufficere
of the Scottish army, and offered David Leslie, the
general of the horse, the title of Earl of Orkney,
if he would consent to espouse his cause and unite
with Montrosei but this project, considering the
temper of that Covenanting soldiery, muut always
have been a hopeless one, and it came to nothing.
The committee of estates at Edinburgh, thecham-
pions of the Covenant, despatched Lanark, Lou-
don, and Argyle, to Newcastle, to look after both
the kingand the army; and these noblemen, after
telling Charlea in the plainest manner that he
muat take the Covenant, or expect no important
service from them — thnt he must not imagine that
they would temporize with this great measure,
or be put off with promiaea — required of him, in
the first instance, to do all thnt in him lay to put
an end to the civil war in Scotland by ceasing
all connection or correspondence with Montrose.
And at their instance he sent a positive order to
the hero of Eilayth to disband hia forces and re-
tire to France.
About the same time, the king sent a very
> the two houses, stating, that.

" being informed tliat their armies were niarcfa-
iiig so fast up to OxfoiYl as made that no fit place
for treating, he did resolve to withdraw bimaelf
hither, only to secure his own person, and with
no intention to continue this war any longer, or
make any division between hia two kingdoms.
And," continued this practised dissembler, who
uow spoke as if he had made up his mind to give
up the question of Episcopacy, "since the settling-
uf religion ought to be the chiefest care, his ron-
jeitty most cameBtly and heartily recommends to
his two Houses of Parliament, all the ways and
means possible for speedily finiehiiig this piotia
and necessary work; and particularly that they
take the advice nf the divines of both kingdoms
assembled at Westminster.* As for tbe militin
of England, his majesty was well pleased to have
it settled as was offered in the treaty at Uibridge.
Concerning the wars in Ireland, and every other
point whatsoever, he promised to comply with
his parliameiit About three weeks later, on tha
10th of June, he sent another measagetothe two
houses, expressing his earnest desire for the end-
ing of this unnatural war, and requesting that
he might be permitted to come to London with
safety, freedom, and honour. And on the same
day he signed a warrant to the governors of Ox-
ford, Liclifield, Worcester, aud Wallingfurd, and
to all other commanders of towns, or castles, or
forts, \o surrender upon honourable t«rmi. Host
of these few places, however, had surrendered
I already. Even Oxford had proposed to treat as

»Google

M.J> ie46— 1640.]

CHARLES I.

557

earif u tlte 17tb of Mtty, which vas one daj
before the king'a first mesuge to parliament.
The commone, however, coDiidered the terma de-
manded aa much too high, and bo ordered Fair-
fax to prosecute the siege; and the pUce did not
eurreader ontil the 24th of June, when very
liberal terms were granted bj the parliamenta-
rians. Prince Bnpert and Prince Maurice re-
ceived theirpassportsand took eliipping at Dover.
Charles's second son, Jaraee,tbe young Duke of
York, was brought up from Oxford to St. James's
Palace. England Castle was stoutly defended by
the Marquis of Worcester. But at last, on the
Iflth of August, JUgland was surrendered. In
the same ' month of August the town of Conway
was taken by storm ) the strong castle of Conway
surrendered in a few dnya after, as did bJbo Flint
Castle, and all other placee in Wales.

Meiinwbile the Scotaat Newcastle were labour-
ing hard to make the king take their Covenant.
Charles thought that he might take it with a
mental reservation, but having some scruples, or
wishing for the cuuuteuauce of a leading church-
man, he sent "a caae of conscience' to Dr. Jux-
on, Bishop of Londuo. After declaring that no
persuasions and tbreateninga should make him
change ^iscopol into Presbyterian government,
the kii^said to the bishop — "But I hold myself
obliged by all honest means, to eschew the mis-
chief of this too visible storm, and I think some
kindof compliance with the iniquity of the times
may be fit, as my utse is, which at another time
were unlawful .... I eanceive the question to
be whether I may with a safe conscience give
way to this proposed temporary corajiliance, with
a resolution to recover and msiutaiu that doc-
trine and discipline wherein I have been bred.
The duty of my oath is herein chiefly to be con-
wdered; I flattering myself that this way I bet-
ter comply with it, than being constAnt to a flat
denial, considering how unable I am by force to
obtain that which this way there wants not pro-
bability to recover, if accepted (otherwise there
is no harm done); for, my regal authority once
settled, I make no question of recovering Episco-
pal government, and God is my witness my chief-
est end in regMning my power is to do the church

It has been judged, from the fact of Charles's
not pntmiing the line of conduct so ingeniously
hinted at, and also from the honest straightfor-
ward character of Juxon, that the bishop's an-
swer, which has not been preserved, was frank
and honest, like that which he had given when
consulted about the execution of the Earl of
Strafibrd. The king, however, listened or pre-
tended to listen to the arguments of the Presby-
terian divines and teachers, and apT>eareiT to have

dropped all projects of hostility, and to agree
with every desire that was expresaed. But at
the same time he managed to continue his secret
correspondence with the Papists in Ireland, and
othera, devising the moet desperate if not the
most ridiculous plans for resuming hostilities by
means of the Papists and of French armies to be
brought over to England. We cannot posatbly
mention half the wild schemes that were en-
tertained at Newcastle and at Paris, between
the going of Charles to the Scota' quarters and
his delivery over to the English; butone of the
most striking of them was, that Montrose, whom
thekinghadorderedtolay down his arms, should
be recalled to head a fresh insurrection in the
Highlands, and take the command of fresh hollies
from Ireland.

On the S3d of July the final propoeitiona of
parliament were presented to Cliarles at New-
castle by the Earl of Pembroke, the Earl of Den-
bigh, and the Lord Montague of the peers, and
six members of the House of Commons; the com-
missioners of the parliament of Scotland being
pi-esent and consenting to them. " The lords
nnd commons, commissioners of the parliament
of England," says May, "stayed long with the
king at Newcastle, humbly entreating him that
he would vouchsafe to sign and establish those
propositions, being not much higher than those
which had been offered to his majoaty at Vi-
bridge when the chance of war was yet doubtful.
The same thing did the comnissioners of the

parliament in Scotland humbly entreat

But daily he seemed to take exception at some
particulars, whereby time was delayed for some
months, and the afikits of both kingdoms mnch
retarded, which happened at an unseaaooable
time, when not only disaensiona between the two
nations about garrisons, money, and other tilings,
were justly feared, Init also in the parliament of
England and city of Ziondon, Me divinora wen
then inereoiing Aefiwen the tim factioru of the
PresbyteriaTU and tie iTtdependeiUt, from wbeucs
the common enemy began to swell with hopes
not improbable. And lAit, percAaiux, wat tha
catae of tAe htn^i dday.''

Many men that did not love Ijie king person-
ally, but that loved monarchy, implored him to ac-
cept the propositions as the only meoua of saving
the throne. Othera used prayers, mingled with
threats. The Earls of Ai^le and Loudon be-
sought liim on tlieir kneea, but all in vain. Then
Loudon, now Chancellor of Scotland, told him
that his assent to the propositions was iudispen-
snble for the preservation of hia crown and king-
doms—that the danger and loss of a refusal would
be reroedileas, and bring on a Ridden min and
destmr^on of the monarchy. The noble Scot

»Google

558

HISTORY OF ENGLAND,

[Civil and MtLiTAur,

continued witb increasing energy: — "The dif-
ferences betwixt ;our majesty and pftHiament
(known to no man better than yourself)
tbia time bo high that (after so many liloody
battles) no composure can be made, nor a more
certain niin avoided, without a present pacifica-
tion. Tlie ]«rliament are in jxisaeBsion of youi
navy, of all the towns, caMles, and forts of £iig-
land; they enjoy, besides, genuestrations and youi

a in London preaeuted a Bpirit«d paper to
the English House of Lords, demauding immo-
diate payment, or an instalment with security
for the remainder. The lords communicated this
paper to the commons, who, taking the same into
consideration, ordered that the sum of £100,000
should be provided forthwith for the Scottish
army, and appointed a committee to audit and
settle the whole money account. Tlie Scots de-
But ('Imrles would not sign, and he 1 manded /600,0(K1; but after aome debate, their
was as deaf to the gentler representations of ' commissioners agreed to take /400,0IK>, of which
others as to the rough eloquence of Loudou."' ; one-half was to be paid before the army left
On the same day that the parliament commit- | England or gave up the places they gairisoned.
aionera arrived at Newcastle, there came a new 1 This bargain was fully concluded four mouths
ambassador from France to implore the king to ! before the Scots delivered np Charles, and dui^
accept the propositions, and
to present to him letters from
the queen, who prayed to the
same effect. Edinburgh and
other Scottish cities sent ten-
der petitions to his majesty
imploring him to take the
Covenant, and save himself
and his royal progeny; but all
was of no avail. After re-
ceiving several i
tions from their «
ers, parliament gave their
thanks to those noblemen and
gentlemen, and appointed a
committee to give the same
thanks to the Scottish com-
misxioner? who had acteil
with them at Newcastle. In
the course of this debate in
the house a Presbyterian
member exclaimed, " What
will become of us now that
the king has refused our propositiunsP " What
would have become of ut if he had accepted
them r rejoined one of the Independents.

On the 19th of May, without any settlement
of the heavy pecuniary claims the Scots had upon
them, the House of Commons had voted that

England had no longer any need of the Scottish take the Covenant,orgive any satisfactory ai
army. The Scots on their side reminded the to the propositions tendered to him for peace.
English of how much they and the cause of liberty Furthermore, that parliament declared that the
liad owed to their well-timed assistance ; and king should not be permitted to come into Scot-
they called aloud for a settlement of accounts, land, or that, if he came, his royal functions
the parliament having agreed to subsidize them should be siupended. Seeing that all the hopes ha
previously to this their second coming into Bug- had built on the Scotch foundation were annihi-
land. King or no king in their hands, the Scots lated, Charles would have Hown fivm the Pres-
would have claimed their money; but it is pos- i tIiU honH. th* view of wjiich !■ tnksn fmm u old orint in
ubie that, without that security, the payment tiwKiii|'tCoii«tl<>ii. Britiih Miwum,
would liavB been neither so prompt nor so libe- ^ K'f'™rri"'«u''™iiM'ihl'Kin'
ral. The pride of the Scots was incessantly irri- Mnion^inglnwthfltMWBiOTof"!
tated, but their prudence was stronger than their f>* uiu o( AndanoD piuh. Pnvk
juide. On the 12th of August their ""' ' '

Tlia houK whan Ourle

a PulftnieoteiT COmniiiaionan.

iterval they had nevei
tiate in his favour.

On the nth of December, the Scottish parlia-
ment voted that the kingdom of Scotland could
lawfully engage on the king's side even if he
deposediuEngland, seeing that he would not

' Mij. »"'

I*

migh tU luwn will, anil

tlu klllg inwlt «D >t(«oi{>t to ncupe.

»Google

A.D. 1646—1649.] CIIAB

bjteriaii umj. But flight wns no longer poni-
ble. On the 20th of December the king wrote
to the parliament of England to aak again for a
|)erBOtittl treaty. The two houses took no Dotii-e
of this meouLge. On CliriHtinas Day, after long
debateB, the lorJs agreed with the commons that
the king ehould be brought to Holmby House,
in Northamptonshire.

The Scota had now fully made up their minda
to deliver Charles to the parliament; yet, on the
I4th of January (1647), thcv made one efTort
more to induce him to take their Covenant and
accede to the propositions. Charles refused to
do so, and again asked permission to go into
Scotland with honour and freedom. Tiiis waa
decisive, and, two days after — on the 16th of
Jauuaiy, 1647— the parliament of Scotland gave
their full consent for delivering up the king.

In the meantime the English parliament had
declared Episcopacy for ever abolished; and, by
putting to sale the bishops' lands, money had
been olitained to satisfy the claims of the Scots
array. On the Slst of January the Scota signed
at Northallerton a receipt for £WO,(m in hai-d
cash. On the 30th the com mia.fi oners of the
English parliament—the Earl of Pembroke with
two other lords and six commoners ^received
from the Scotch coraraisaioners at Newcastle the
person of the king, the Scots troops evacuating
that town on the same day. Charles affected to
be pleased with the change: he talked courte-
ously, and even cheerfully, to the Earl of Pem-
broke and the other commissioners, telling them
he was weU pleased to part from the Scots.'

While the Scottish army waa re-crossing the
Eordere, the king jonmeyed by easy stages to-
wards Holmby House, a stately mansion in a
pleasant country, but at no great distance from
the fatal field of Naseby. He reached the man-
sion on the 16th of February, and found his
lodging and table and little court well furnished
with everything except chaplains. In vain he
petitioned to have chaplains of the Anglican
church. The dominant Presbyterians sent him
chaplains of their church. He seemed to bear

LE3 I. 559

his misfortunes with a sort of cheerful dignity;
he passed his time in reading, playing chess,
walking, riding, and playing at bowls.

At this time it was rather the head of Oliver
Cromwell than that of King diaries that seemed
in imminent danger. The eleclious which had
i>eeu recently made, to fill up vacancies in the
House of Commons, had gone generally in favour
of the Preshytarians, while not a few thorough-
going royalists had found seats and friends in
that house. Triumphing in their strength, the
Presbyterians had pioclaimed the establishment
of their own form of worship to the exclu-
sion of all others; and they had laboured, and
were still latmuring, to cnmh the many sects in-
cluded under the general term of Independents.
They had even resolved to disband the victori-
ous army, and to create a new one on a Presby-
terian model. The Independents in the House
of Commons— the Vanes, the Martins, the St,
Johns — yielded to the storm so long as it was
necessary, holding themselves ever ready to
profit by the blunders of their confiding adver-
saries. Oue of these blunders was the haste of
the Presbyterians in getting tlieir brethren, the
Scots, out of England.
An 1647 In the month of February it was
resolved by parliament to dismiss
nearly the whole of the existing army, to retain
Sir Thomas Fairfax as commander-in-chief, to
allow no other officer to have a rank higher than
that of colonel, and to exact from all officers an
oath to the Covenant and to the government of
the church as by ordinance established. Some of
these votes were aimed directly at Oliver Crom-
well:bDt they would also have excluded Ludlow,
Blake, Ireton, Skippcu, Algernon Sydney, and
others. It was at this crisis that Ireton married
the eldest daughter of Cromwell. The Hollisee,
the Stapletons, and the other leaders of the
Presbyterians, ordered that a large part of
Fairfax's forces should forthwith be shipped for
Ireland; and they did this without paying, or
even talking of paying the heavy arrears that
were due to the soldiers. The men vowed that

" Df thtw dtxexris oT tbn Mng'i Inalneerl^, ind by wbat
tABmad hifl fnlMAuLtad obBtlbu^ In nAvIng Bern of DcoanimD.

him ; Lh« onB Iwnllj rntrainsd fmn outing him oCT; th« other
mdxtDlMTtlilmbihlilkU. Ttiiamoplniaiiort)Hkfii(lbniu

tb« kins "■ mIMniatlie of ntMng to IIdII

; and from wlut
^robublj would not lllivo i)i«l«:lad th«
It ths oomoqamu* might hsT* berni hJB »-
I«u dejMilion from Iba English thmm: Mad bowaro' w»
DUf think ineb baDtahmimt raon bonombla thn th* usapt-
usa of dv>4l»< amdltloiia, Um Boota, «• ■honld ramam.

dunad him to Ht at nought. Thej had a right al
oT a rapubllo lu England woold daftat. To ea

A Engllih

naagalnX

Eiighind, u th( ardant TofMliMU daalrad, and dnnbUan Ifa
tannlnad npublkana ao lav, would bavg bsen. tm waa proved

fhith wu plad^ to falm; their TBty right to rMaln bla penon,
though thaj' had argoad fat IS with tha Engllata parliament,
■oamad opm to ouch doubt."- Hallam, (^ulilulioiial Hutoiy
ilfRt/laiii.

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil asd Militart,

tliej would not go without their old oflieerB, tliat
thej would not be put under new aud mittied
officers, that they would not go to die, far from
their homen, of famine aud diaeaae. And forth-
with the army, which was lyiog in and round
Nottingham, broke up from their caiUonmenta
and marched upon London.

Then the Presbyterians in a panic voted an
assesanient for pfiying the troops. Ou the ful-
lewinff day— the 17th of March— a petition was
presented from the common council and Pres-
byUriana of the I'ity of London, praying tliat the
army might be removed to a greater diHtnnce
from the capital; complaining bitterly of a peti-
tion set on foot in the city by the Independents,
aud calling for the punishnieutof its authoraand
promoters. This petition of the Independents
was in all respects a remarkable document— the
first or the loudest call that had yet been made
npou republican principle?. The Presbyterian
majority in the house, recovering aomewhat from
their panic, voted that this Independent petition
should be condemned, and that the army should
not come within twenty-five miles of Ijondon.
A deputation was sent down to SnfTrou-Walden
to treat with Fairfax and the officers. On tlie
day after their arrival at head-quarters, Fairfax
Bummoned a convention of officers; and these
officers plainly told the pnrliament commissionera
that they had been ill-used, and would not sub-
mit to it; that they must hare payment of the
ai-reara already due, and some indemnity for
their past sacriliceB and services. In reporting
their doings, or their non-doings, to the commoun,
the coramiaeionera mentioned a petition in pro-
gresa in the army. In these stormy times late
debates had become common. This night the
house sat very late, and, " being giown thin with
long sitting," the Presbyterians voted the peti-
tion of the army, which they had not seen, to be
an improper petition; and fui-ther, that those of
the army who continued in their distempered
condition, and went on in advancing and pro-
moting the petition, should be proceeded against
as enemies to the slate and diaturbei-s of the pub-
lic peace. On the moi-row the lords voted their
adherence to the resolution. Fairfax remonstrated
in a mild manner, but the army com|ilnineJ of
the injustice of not being allowed to petition
while the petitions agniiiHt them were not sup-
pressed, and the cavalry talked of drawing to a
rendezvous to compose something for their vin-
' dication. On tlie ISth of April a deputation
from the two houses again confeired with the
army at Saffron-Walden. Colonel I«mhert, in
the name of the reat, desired to know what sa-
tisfaction the parliament had given to the queries
they had put at their last meeting with the de-
putation. Sir John Clotworthy assured Lnmbert ['

that, in Ireland, they should all be under the
command of the popular Major-general SkippoD ;
but then be added the unpopular name of the
Presbyterian Massey. Colonel Hammond de-
clared, that if they had good assurance that
Skippou would go, he doubted not but a great
part of the army would engage. To this the
officers cried out "All, all!" but others shouted
still louder, "Fairfax and Cromwell— give us
Fairfax and Cromwell, and we all go." After n
vain attempt to gain over voluuteera, the depu-
tation returned in dismay to London. Tlie ques-
tion was adjourned from the 23d to the S7th of
Api-il. On that day Hollis urged on his party to
vote that the whole army, horse and foot, should
be diebonded with all conveident speed, and six
weeks' pay given upon their dislKinding, and
that four of the officers should be summoned by
the set'jeant-at-arms to attend at the bar of the
house. On this very day some of the officers
of that army presented an energetic petition
to the commons. Tins paper, which wus a vin-
dication of their conduct rather than a petition,
was signed by Thomas Hammond, lieutenant-
general of the ordnance, fourteen colonels and
lieutenant-colonel 1, six majors, and 130 captuna,
lieutenants, and other commisdoned officera.
"The misi'epre mentation of us and our liarralesa
intentions to this honourable house,* said these
citizen- HoIJiers, " o<;casioning bard thoughts and
expressions of your displeasure agniust us, we
cannot but look upon as an act of most sad im-
portance.' After iuHisting on their right of peti-
tioning, they said, " We hope, by being soldiers,
we have not lost the capacity of subjects, nor di-
vested ourselves thereby of our interests in the
commonwealth; that in purchasing the freedom
of our brethren we have not lost our own." Tliey
energetically justified their demands for money.
" For the desire of our arrears," said they, " neeei-
titff, especially of our soldiers, enforced us there-
unto. That we have not been merceiuiry, or
proposed gain as our end, the speedy ending of a
languishing war will testify for us, whereby the
people are much eased of their taxes and daily
disbursements, and decayed trade restored to a
full and fioudshing condition in all quarter!!.''
But before this time an entire disalTeclion to the
Presbyterian majority had declared itself among
the common soldiers; and, irritated by the late
disbanding vote, and 1ij the house not taking this
petition of the officers into immediate consideift-
tion, rsnk and file, troopers, dragoons, and in-
fiuitry, drew closer their recently-formed com-
pact, and )>repared a document of their own for
the perusal of the house. They here desciibed
"a model of a military common council, who
ahould assemble two commibsioned officere anil

»Google

A.D. 1640-1640.]

CHARLES I.

561

two private soldiers out of every regiment, to
consult for the good of the armj, Hud to be called
by the ntune of adjutcUon^' From this council
or coudave the superior oBicere stood sioof ; but
Beny, ti captain in Fttirf&x's regiment of horse,
:ind all old and bosom-friend of Ci-omwell, be-
came president of it, whence it has been gene-
rally concluded by historians that the whole affair,
if not originally got up by Cromwell, was guided
nnd directed by hiin.' On the 30th of April
these adjutators, whose name was soon changed
into that of agitaloTt, seat three troopers— Seiby,
Allen, and Shepherd — to present their first mani-
festo to the commons, and tell them Ihey " sought
to become masters, and were degenerating into
tyrants." Ciumweli, who a few weeks before
was given to believe that the Presbyterians in-
tended to seize him and commit himto the Tower
— a plnn which appears really to have been enter-
tained at Beveriil distinct times — rose up and
Rpoke at great length about the danger of driv-
ing the army to extremities, and about the pure
and entire loyalty of that meritorious body; tmd,
strange and unaccountable as it is. It is certain
that the house forthwith commisaioued him, with
Skippon, Ireton, and Fleetwood, to repair to
head -quarters, and quiet the distempers of the
army by assnriug them that the house
had appointed an ordinance to be
speedily brought in for their indem-
nity, payment of arrears, &c. Oom-
well,aiid those who had been appoin-
ted with him, presented themselves
to the army on the 7th of May. The
officers i-equired time to confer with
their regimeuta, nnd a second meet-
ing took place on the ISth. Crom-
well, Ireton, and Fleetwood eucou-
mged the discontents, and Skippou
at last decide<l in favour of the propo-
sition preaenlod by Lambert, that the
redress of the grievances of the army
should have precedence of all other
questions. But disagreeweDt* broke
out among the soldiery.some of whom
would have closed with the offers of
parliament ; and, emboldened by these
symptoms of division, the Presbyterian leaders,
after hearing the report of Cromwell, who had
returned from the camp to the house, passed a
resolution, that immediato measures should be
taken for auditing the accounts of the soldiers,
iind disbanding the regiments. This was on the
21st of May. On the nest dsiv Fnirfflit. who had

been in London under a i-eal or pretended sick-
ness, returned to the ai'my by the desire of the
House of Commons, and on the morrow he re-
moved the maps of that ai-ray from Saffron-
Waiden to Eurv-St.-Edmund's. He found the
soldiers retulute not to disbaixl without previous
redress and paynient, and the punishment of
those who, as thay said, liad contrived their de-
Htrnction; and they called for a rendezvous,
telling their officers that, if they would not grant
it, they would hold it without them. Fairfax
reported all this to the house. On the 28tli
of May, the Preahyteriana appointed the Earl of
Warwick^ and five other members of the house,
to be a committee to act with the general (Fair-
fax) in executing the disbanding vote. Fairfax
told this deputation that he could venture to do
nothing of the sort tor the present.

The crisis was now liunied on. The lonls
voted that the king should be brought from
Holmby to Oatlands near the capital, and that a
fresb treaty should be opened with him. The
army and the Independents, who were almost
one, resolved to forestall the lords and the Pres-
byterians. On the 3d of June, a little after mid-
night, a strong party of hoi'se, commanded by
Joyce, a comet in Whalley's regiment, prc-

HoLMST Bouu. — DakflT'i KDrthunptcDihin.

sented themselves at Holmby House. Joycedis-
mounted, and demanded to be admitted, telling
Colonels Graves and Brown, who commanded
the small garrison there, that he came to speak
with the king. They asked him from whom)
"From hiyself," said Joyce; at which they
laughed. "This is no laughing matter," aiud the
comet of horse. Colonel Graves commanded the
soldiers in the house to stand to their arms; but,
instead of obeying, the men threw open the
gates, and bade their old comrades welcome.
Joyce then proceeded to the chamber where the

177

,v Google

562

mSTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and MiuTARr.

parlinment commissioners Iny, nuil told them that
tliere was a secret deBigii to Bt«itl away the king
and raise another army; that there was no oilier
means of keeping tlie kingdom from blood and
another war but by the army making sure of the
king's person. All the rest of that night a»d the
whole of the following dny Joyt.'e remained quiet
in Holmby House, without intruding himself
into the king's chamber. But the mansion waa
well watched and gurirded both within and with-
out; and there was not a soklier there but waa
an Independent or a worshipper of Cromwell.
At ten o'clock of the night after his arrival the
comet demanded and obtained an audience. He
told the king that dnngeroua plote were afoot,
that hie majesty must be placed in better keeping,
that now matteiB were come to this — the Presby-
teriana must sink the Independents or the In-
dependents the PreBhyteriaus. After some con-
versation, in which Charles exacted from Joyce
promises that his life should be aafe in his hands,
that his conscience should not be forced, and that
some of his attendants should be allowed to ac-
company him, it was agreed that the removal
ehonld be made quietly on the following morn-
ing. At six o'clock in the morning the king ap-
peared booted for the journey. He, however,
seemed to UesitAte ; and he asked Joyce what
commission he bad to secure his pemon)— whe-
ther he had nothing in writing from Sir Thomas
Fuirfai, bis general ? The cornet desired the king
not to ask him such questions, which, he con-
ceived, he had sufKcientiy answered before. "I
pray you, Mr. Joyce," said the king, " deal in-
genuously with roe, and tell me what commission
you have?" "Here is my commission," said
Joyce. "Where J" said the king. " Here ,'" reylieii
thecomet. His majesty again asked, "Where?"
" Behind me,' replied Joyce, pointing to the
moaDt«d soldiem. His majesty smiled and said,
"It is as fair a commission, and as well written
as I have ever seen in my life ! A company of
handsome proper gentlemen !" After a few more
words the king mounted, the trumpet sounded,
and the whole party rode rapidly away from
Hclotby House. That night Charles slept at
Hinchinbrook, and on the morrow they carried
him to Childerley, near Newmarket.'

On the same day that Joyce had moved from
Hulmby Houw Cromwell had left London, hav-
ing, it is said, intimation of a secret resolution
that had been taken by the parliament to arrest
him. Ue got aecretly out of town, and without
stop or stay rode to Triploe Heath, his borse all
in a fnam,andthere was welcomed with the shouts
of the soldiery.' Forthwith the army entered

' rtr/irt FdUiliat.

iuto a solemn engagement not to disband or di-
vide until they had overthrown the present Pres-
byterian government. Fairfax, Cromwell, Ire-
ton, Hammond, and other otBcersof rank,WAiteJ
upon the king. That their demeanour was re-
spectful is ceitain; but nearly everytliing else
that passed at this meeting, or these meetings, is
involved in doubt.

On the 10th of June, while parliament was
voting that no part of the army should come
within forty miles of the capital, the whole of
that army marched upon London, sending out
manifestoes, collecting addresses of confidence
from several counties, aud demanding tbe sjieedy
purgation of parliament. On the 15th of June,
from their head-quartere at St. Atban's, the
army formally accused Denzil HoUis, Massey,
Stapleton, and eight other members of the com-
mons. The house repeated ita commands to
the army not to advance. The army advanced
immediately upon Uxbridge, and thereupon the
"eleven membera" went and hid themselves. The
house then voted that the army waa, in very
deed, the army of England, and to be treated
with alt respect and care; and they sent proposi-
tions to the general, which induced him tA re-
move his head-quarters from Uibrijge to Wy-
combe. This slight movement gave wondrous
courage to the eleven accused members, who
came forth from their hiding places to their teats
in the house, accusing their accusers, and de-
manding a trial; but very soon they lost heart,
and obtained leave of absence and tlie speaker's
passport to go out of the kingdom.

Meanwhile the king had been removed from
Newmarket to Boyston, from Koyston to Hat-
field, the Earl of Salisbury's house; from Hat-
field to Wobum Abbey, and thence to Windsor
Castle. By means of his confidential attendants
he opened or continued a very secret negotiation
with Cromwell, Ireton, and other chief officers

The Presbyterians were now making a last
effort to rcgaiu the ascendency. The army aud
the Independent residents in the city had de-
manded that the command of the London militia
should be put into other hands. The Presbyte-
rians not only refused, but chose tJiie very vii>-
: ment for getting up a petition, calling for the
I auppreasiou of all conventicles. At the same time
j they exhibited for signature in Guildhall another
; paper, which, after reciting the Covenant, en-
gaged the Huhscribers of all degrees to do their
utmost to keep away the army, and bring the
king to Westminster. One hundred thousaud
I signatures were set to this paper; aud afew days
after a disorderly rabble surrounded the Houses
of Parlisment, and caused such terror there that
both speakers and many members fled to the
army for protection. Fairfax, who bad advauoetl

,v Google

AD. 16«— IMfl.]

CHARLES I.

with the anDj to Houuslow HeAth, tliere met
the fugitive ludepeniient memberB. Besides the
two speakers, there were fifteen Ionia and KKi
commonera. The general forthwith published a
declaration, "showing the grounds of his present
adi^nce to the city of London." The Presbyte-
rian Londoneta, being able to i\o nothing better,
sent to entreat for a pari ficat ton, and to offer
their quiet subntigaion to the general.

On the 16th of August Fairfax came to West-
minster, with the speakers of both bouses, and
the rest of the expelled lords and commoners.
The speakers, in the name of the whole parlia-
ment, gave thanks to the general, Mid as a gra-
tuity, a month's pay was given to his army. On
the next day Fitirfax and Cromwell marched
into the city, and settled the question of the mi-
litia. "Thna was the Presbyterian faction de- '
pressed. Never, perhaps, did :i great [larty fall
with less honour." '

While these tliioga were in progress the coun-
cil of officers had prepared their " Proposals,"
wherein they provided for the re-settlement of
the kingdom upon principles of the largest liberty,
both civil and religions, and of a glorious tolera-
tion which Europe had not yet seen even in the-
ory. The great fault of this theory was, that it
too mnch overlooked the passions, prejudices,
and intelleetnal condition of the people. Ireton
is generally considered to have been the princi-
pal authorof this remarkable paper; but he acted
concurrently with his father- in. law, Cromwell,
who entertained the highest and jnst^at notions
about religious liberty, freedom of trade, and
the other points which reflect the most honour
npon this scheme.* In many respects, notwith-
standing the republican tendencies of Ireton,
this constitution would have left Charles more
power and dignity as a king than the Presbyte- ■
rian parliament had ever thought of giving him.
But Charles, encouraged by Lord lauderdale
and by other Presbyterians, as well in Scotland I
as in England, would give no direct answer to I

the proposals when they were submitted to him.
At times he entertained Ireton and the other
commissioners of the armjr "with very tart and
bitter discourses;" at other times he attempted
to cajole theni. Colonel EainHborongh, in the
middle of the conferences, stole away in disgust,
and, posting to the army, declared to officers and
men that the king was again playing bis double
or treble game." And in fact Charles at this
very moment was negotiating not only with Lan-
derdale and the Scottish commissioners, with
Cromwell and Ireton, and with other officers

who entertained very difierent views, but also
with the English Presbyterians and with the
Irish Catholics— to each and all of whom he was

making promises and paying compliments. Nor
conid he control his own temper sufficiently to
cloak his designs. One day he exclaimed to Ire-
ton— " I shall play my game as well as I can !"
Ii'eton instantly replied — " If your majesty have
a game to play, you must give us also liberty to

■ llnr. Brrriary I^IU HifW) ^Oii Ftrliamtiil of ffii(pfai>J,

OjEngUnd. But luct men fcrmod but oneof ll« nmireefU

wtiicb then pioatlnd. The country. Id n ihoit time, lltenll/

Iiutieafor ths o|>p»ite bull! of hmlng brdkau ths Dnlt) oTlhs

ETohX henriee, and hf their bnitldtm inil eioHX, pniinl

B di.fTJO! to religion. Ai the nitunl n>u]t o( tuch ft ■pirn.

Thwi chugs nntmllu «ch Dth>r: tnA tb« nnniple of Scut-

lud, whBiB Ihe flillMl loloralion oo oiliU wilb 1 linpilBr mi-
uilmit)' In lliB >wtitlDl> nf fiortrine ind tboreb polily, -mm
pnctiallj lo nrfiiM bolh. Thfl tlmia wen mldmllj mch u tu

lu a iryxUni of plooe fnni and prlextcnft. And Hwnlingl/.

knd nnder Cromwrtl. u the Iheiire on which their •jiUm uf

[he cum of the ReSrnnMtrai. tlu.1 their divWm.* wen balieieil

to Uii. reepKl «uueJ full of warning to the 8«.l^l,, >nd ie wdl

of hkOi ■ KtnTunlin wKh >Tsnrian and t}Mnn.'-ai1orr,^lkf

> Sir John B(rkolcj-,M.HO.n

»Google

UlSTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civn. *!tii UiuTART.

j.iaj onnt*' And now, according to Aebbam-
iiatn, the king's coDstant Attendaut, CroiDwel)
first tw^an to talk of "the bappj couditloD the
people (rf thia kingdom would be io if the govem-
ment noder which thev in Holland lived were
settled here;* and both Ireton and Cromwell
were found "at a great distance to what for-
meriy the^ appeared to be in relation to his ma-
jesty'R good.* Ciomwel) and Irel^Hi, however,
continued Uteir negolialions with the king nntil
tbej incnrred the uiapicioiM both of parliament
and the army. "The Buspicions," Eavs Berkeley,
one of the kin^s attendants, "were ho strong in
the house that they loat almost all their friends
there; and the army that then lay about Fntney
were no less ill-aatisfied; for there came down
sfaoab every diy from London of the Presbyte-
rian and Levelling parties, that fomented these
jealousies; insomnch that Cromwell thought him-
self, or pretended it, not setrure in hie own quar-
ters. The agitators now b^^ to change their
discourses. .... These found it apparent that
God had, on the one side, hardened the king's
heart, and blinded his eyea, in not passing the
propomU, whereby they were abaolvcd from of-
fering thetn any tuore; and that, on the other
Hide, the Lord had led captivity captive, and pnt
all things under their feet, and, therefore, they
were bonnd to finieli the wwk of the Lord, which
waa to alter die goremmeitt acctmUiig to their
first design; and to this end they resolved to
seize the king's person, and to take bimont of
CromwelFa hands."

Detested by the Presbyteriana and Suots, dnped
or held in play by the king, and menaced by the
violence of the ultra - republican patty in the
artny, Cromwell, by the instinct of preservation,
was obliged to look to his sword and to act with
decision. If ne are to believe a story told by
two contemporaries, the hot-headed Levellers al-
ready looked upon him as tbeir greatest enemy;
and onr old acquaintance, free-bom John, now
Colonel John lillnme, with Wildman, another
agitator, had formed a plot to aBaassinate htra as
a renegade to the cause of liberty. The republi-
can Iretou agreed with his father-in-law that if
republicans, like the Levellers, were not checked,
there would be anarchy in England. Fairfax
was of the anme opinion, and he issued his order
to draw the army together to a general reudei-
vous at Ware, on the 16th of November. As
soon as the tnmultaons part of the array had no-
tice of it they resolved among themselves to seize
the kin^s person before the day of the rendez-
vous, aiid bring him to condign ponisbroent as
the cause of the murder of many thousands of
free-born Englishmen. Bumoiirs of these inten-

I Mn. Huuhinm. Mrmvirt

<^ Wo/Co

'. tions readied the king, who waa now confined,
withont being very strictly guarded, at Bamp-
toB Conrt. Ahont a fortjiigfat before the time
i^ipointed for die great rendezvans at Wiuv,
Charles told Berkeley that be was aftaid of his
life, and that be would have him aaakt in hid
escape. It appears that at one raonient Charles
thoDght of taking refuge in the rity irf London.
But from thia he was atnm^y diamaded l^ sotne
of his faithful servants. Other plans were pro-
posed and rejected, chiefly Uirongh the caotioD
or timidity of lAnark and the Scots commis-
sioners. At last Charles took the adrice of Asli-
bumham, and resolved to flee to Sir John Oglan-
der's bouse in the Isle of Wight, as he had some
hopes that Colonel Hammond, who had recently
assumed the government of that island, woold
be disposed to serve him in this eitivmity.

On the 11th of November, late at night, news
reached London that the king was fled from
Hampton Court.

No consistent account is given of the manner
in which the king esc^Kd, of the night jooniey
he nude, or of the conferences with Colonel
Hammond. Aahbumhsm and Berkeley, the
king's two companions, relate nearly every part
of the story in a different way, each endeavour-
ing to throw the blame of imprudence, or tbe
suspicion of foul treachery, on the other, and both
agreeing in this— and in this only— that Colonel
Hanunond promised to act in one way whoi the
king was not as yet in his hands, and acted in an-
other as BOOD as he waa This latter charge is not
to be believed withont better evidence than has
hitherto been produced to support it It appears
rather that Charles went info the Isle of Wight
as he had gone to the Scots camp, and that the
necessity onder which he lay tendered treachery
or any deceptive promises on the part of Ham-
moud altogether unnecessary, and that Ham-
mond never pledged himaelf to do more than trt
defend his majesty's life agtunst assassins. In-
stead of being conducted to Sir John O^ander'd
house, tiie king was conveyed to Carisbrooke
Castle.

On the 5th day after their arrival in the lale
of Wight, Charles and his friends learned the
result of the rendezvous of the army at Ware, to
which they had looked forward with extreme au-

I xiety, apprehending nothing short of destniclion
from the trinm]ih of the mutinous soldiery. Nor
had Cromwell been free from nneasy thoii^ts:
the Levellers had accused him of taking the king
nut of their hands and smuggling him away; and
they had openly threatened to take the life fif
the reneg-ode. But wise and resolute measures
had been adopted; and at the decisive moment it
was found that the Levelling faction waa nume-
rically weak. Whenlhis troop met at Ware, only

»Google

A.D. 1646-1649.} CHAR

two Kgimenta — HarrUoii'H Lone oud lilburue's
foot — showed any mutinous spirit. Cromwell,
followed bj a few of bia favourite officers, gat-
loped into tbe ranks of these mutineers, seized
oue of their ringleaders by the throat, and caused
liimtobeehoton the instant; and
in that instant all opposition va-
nished. Charles sent Berkeley
from the lale of Wight with
letters to Fairfax, Cromwell, and
Iretoo. Fairfax received the
i-oyal meKseoger very sternly,
and all the officers did the same,
tbe general saying that Ihey were
the parliament's army, and that
all motions of treaty must be re-
ferred to parliament, to whom he
would tmosmit his majesty's let-
ters. The next morning Berkeley
contrived to let Cromwell know
that he had secret letters to him
from the king; but Cromu;ell sent c<uubbso(

him word that he durst not see
him, that lie would serve his majesty so long as
be could do it without bia own ruin, but must
desire him not to expect that be should perish
for the king's sake. Berkeley thereupon pro-
ceeded to London, and put himself in communi-
cation with tbe Lords I^uderdale and I^nark,
and other Scots. Yet Charles addressed a let-
ter to the speaker of the House of Lords, to be
comroanicated also to the House of Commons.
He reiterated his scruples of conscience concern-
ing the abolition of Episcopacy, but said that he
hoped he should satiafy the parliament with bis
reaaons if be might personally treat with them.
Tlie parliament "resolved upon a middle way,"
and on the 14th of December they passed four
propositions, drawn up in the form of acts, which,
when the king had signed, he was to be admitted
to a personal treaty at London. Tliese proposi-
tions were— 1. That bia majesty shnnld concur
in a bill for settling of the militia. 2. That he
should call in all declarations, oaths, and pro-
clamations against the parliament, and those
who had adhered to tbera. a That all the lords
who were made after the great seal was carried
nway should be rendered incapable of sitting in
the Honse of Peers. 4. That power should be
given to the two Houses of Parliament to adjourn
aa they should think fit The commiaaioners
of Scotland, who had been acted upon by Lnn-
derdale and Lrtnark and Berkeley, and who had
received several communications from Charles
himself, protested against the sending of these
four bills to the king before he should be treated
with at Ijondon. On tbe S4th of December the
bills were preflent«d to Charles at Cariibrooke
Castle, where tbe king, understanding the mind

lES J. 565

of the Scots and tbe factions in London, abso-
lutely refused to give his assent; and tlie com-
missioners, with this stem denial, returned to
London. But, by this time, Charles had made
up bis mind to enter into a secret treaty with '

the Scots, in which he engaged to i
Episcopacy and accept tbe Covenant, the Scots,
on their part, engaging to restore him by force
of arms; and on the 28th of December he pri-
vately signed this treaty.

And now Cliailes thought of flee-
A.D. 1648. jjjg j^^^ j^^ j^^ ^f Wight, beJUR
probably alike apprehensive of the consequences
of his refusing the four propositions of parlia-
ment, and of those which must follow any detec-
tion of his treaty with the Scots or of bis other
plans — for other plans of various and conflicting
kinds were certainly entertained. But Ham-
I mond had now sent Ashburiiham, Berkeley, and
i Legge out of the island, so that they could no
\ longer be active in the business of contriving the
' king's escape from Cariabrooke, and the guards
I bad been doubled at tlie castle. In fact, Charles
I was now, for the first time, a close prisoner.
I A French vessel had arrived in Southampton
Water, but it was dismissed. Aahbumbam
! nnd Berkeley, however, kept o relay of saddle-
horsea on the coast, hojiing that Cliarles might
' get out of the castle; and such was (lie activity
' nnd ingenuity of these men, and of the king bim-
. aelf, that an active correspondence was still car-
1 ried on between the royal captive and his friends
' in Prance, Scotland, and London. On one dark
: night Charles attempted to escape from the castle
by forcing his body through tlie iran bars of his
jirison window. His head passed between the
bars, but, contrary to hia expectations, bia body
stuck fast, and it was only by a long and pain-
ful struggle that be succeeded in extricating
himself, and cpttinp back into his chamber with-
out observation. On another occasion a drum

,v Google

56f)

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

Iieat Huddeuly at deail of night in tlie quiet little
■"land towu of New|>ort; and one Captain Biirlev
tried to get up an insurrection and rescue the king
— " a design bo impousible for those that under-
took it to eflect, tbey conBisting chiefly of women
and children, without any arms, saving one mus-
ket, that no sober man could jtosaibly have been
engaged in it." Poor Burley waa made prisoner,
and subsequently put to death as a traitor. Sil-
ken cords wherewitik to descend, and aqua-fortis
wherewith to corrode the bars of liia prison, lire
said to have been adroitly conveyed to the royal
pt-isoner.' But the parliament were now work-
ing with more corrosive acida. On the 3d of
January, 16U4, the commons took into conside-
ration the king's refua^ of their four proposi-
tious. "The dispute,' saya May, "was sharp,
vehement, and high. ... It was there affirmed,
that the kiug, by this denial, bad denied his pro-
tection to the people of England; tliatit waa very
unjuat and absurd that tlie parliament, having so
often tried the king's affectiona, should now be-
tray to an implacable enemy both themselves
and alt those friends who, in a most just cause,
bad valiantly ailventured their lives and for-
tunes; that nothing waa now left for them to do,
but to take care for the safety of themselves and
tlieir friends, and settle the commonwealth (since
otherwise it could not be) without the king."'
Ireton spoke with great force, declaring that the
king had denied that protection to the people
which was the condition of their obeiiience to
him ; that they ought not to desert the brave men
who had fought for them beyond all possibility
of retreat or forgiveness, and who would never
forsake the parliament, unless the parliament
first forsook thera. "After some further debate,
Cromwell brought up the rear. It waa time, he
said, to answer the public expectation; that they
were able and resolved to govern and defend the
kingtlom by their own power, and teach the peo-
ple they had nothing to hope from a man whose
heart Qod hardened in obstinacy.* The end
of all this was a vote, in which the lords concui^
red with the commons — tliat nofurtheraddressfs
or applications should be made to the king, or

CtOt hi (pent muoh ot bit lime in ntdi^g. " The Sured
Hcijptnrs wit ths book h* mwC dillghMil In : lis nod oRen in
Iliihop Andmra' Strmoai, Hwker'i Bnl'iinilicat Palitf. Dr.
HunoioDd'i worki, ViMiklpwvdiu npon Bzikiel, 3uidi' Pain-
,1*™* of Kiog DarhTl Pmlin.. H.rbtrt'. DiciJU FnKfi. und
Kfto Oucff^! tf B«llniaiit, writ in Itillin bjrToiqiuto Tun. iind
•loot into Bi«ll^ turcie Tent bj Mr. PalT^i— > poem hli nu-

Uurlngtun, A twntliHU pott, mndi eaUsmed, t^i , nnd Speuxc'i

» Bwla-
< Ibid.

any message received from him without the con-
sent of both houses, under the penalties of high

On the !Hh of January there was sent up from
head-quartern at Windsor "a declaration froiu
bis excellency Sir Thomas Fairfax and the gene-
ral council of the army, of their resolution to
adhere to tlia parliament, in their proceedings
concerning the king."* Both houses passed a
vote of thanks to the army for this declaration.

The Scottish commissioners, whoae secret treaty
with the king waa more than suspected, now I'aii
down to Scotland to prepare for war. So long

these noble Scots remained in London and iu
good agreement with the English parliament,
they had bad a share in the executive power
which was vested in a committee of both king-
doms. Now, this executive power waa lodged
solely in an English committee, called the "Com-
mittee tor the Safety of the Commonwealth." It
was composed of seven peers — the Earls of Nor-
thumberland, Kent, Warwick, and Manchester,
the Lords Say, Whartfln, and Roberts; andthii*-
teen members of the House of Commons — Mr.
Pierpoint, Mr. Fiennes, Sir Henry Vane, senior,
Harry Vane, junior. Sir William Amiine, Sii-
Arthur Hazlerig, Sir Gilbert Gierrard, Sir John
Evelyn, Lieutenant-general Cromwell, Mr. St.'
John, Mr, Wallop, Mr. Crew, and Mr. Brown,
who all sat together at Derby House, and who
had power to snppress tumults and insurrections
and to raise forces as tJiey saw occauon. Part
of the army, which had certainly overawed the
House of Lords and driven them into complian-
ces, WHS now quartered about Westminster, the
Mews, and the city. "The parliament,* says May,
"though victorions, was never in more danger.
All men began, in the spring, to prophesy that
the summer would be a hot one, in respect of
wars, seeing bow the cotiutries were divided in
factions, the Scots full of threats, the city of Lon-
don as full of unqaietness. And more sad things
were feared where least seen ; rumours every day
frightening the people of secret plots and trea-
sonable meetings."*

The firet insurrectionary movement of any

Ihe ktDg when Ik U dsHTend ; but. In the manwhlla. HuniltaD
hu EiH m m^oh^ in Che fiootfb pATlitmajii; fend drunu tn
J ot fbrlj thoiiund nrtainlj

I 1 flimlng unmet, EugUsil

II Qolotiele ded&rine now fbr
tluQs of EUiclud— 4U

Ft fiiigibiid lik
'combiMibto i
:he Pmb}t«i'

cr be in >

I. oT warid-wida intrigue;

»Google

A.D. 1W6— 1649.] CHAB

coDseqiience took place in Loiiiiou, upoD Sunday,
the 8th of April, wbeD a mob of apprentieeH aoJ
other young people Btoiied a captain of the train-
bands iu Moorfielda, took away hia colours, aud
marched in disorderly rout to Weatminater, cry-
ing out aa they went, "King Cliarlei! King
Charles!* They were quickly Bcaltered by a troop
of horse that sallied out of the King's Mews;
but, running back into the city, they filled it with
fears and {Uaordera all that Sabbath night, broke
open houses to procure arms, and enforced the
lonl-mayor to escape privately out of his house
and flee into the Tower, On the morrow morning
Fairfax stopped this mischief in the beginning,
but not without bloodshed. Shortly after, a body
of about 300 men came out of Surrey to Weat-
miuster, demanding that the king should pre-
sently be restored. As they cursed the parlia-
ment aud iuBotted the Boldiera on guard there, a
collision ensued, in which several lives \rere lost.
At tlie same time the men of Kent drew together
in great numbers, and, on the ottier side of the
Thames, 'Easex. became the scene of a great ris-
ing for the king. In various other parta of the
kingdom there were tumultuary gatherings or
attempts made by the royaliata to surprise cas-
tlea and magaxines of arras. The Freabyteri-
ans, uniting with the concealed royalists, seemed
•gain to aeqiiire the aacendency in the House of
Commons; and to Cromwell and the Indepen-
denU the triumph of the Presbyterians would
have been nothing less than destruction. On the
S4th of April,' a Presbyterian majority voted
that the military posts and defences of the city
of London should be again inUmsted to the com-
mon council; and fonr days after, they carried
their motion that the government of the king-
dom should continue to be by king, lords, and
commons, and that a new treaty should be opened
with King Charles, notwithstAndiug the recent
vote of non-addresses. And, being as intolerant
as ever — hating the Independents much more on
account of their religioua opinions than on that
of their republicanism — they revived an ordi-

A fT«fttPrabjt«rLuip«rtj. At thabatd of which i« 1>mkIdd dt^,
' tfaa parwf burnt of Hit aiiw.' h<ghb dJinti>a«l it Uw coint
thlnp bad taksn, And Unking dnpentsly nnmd tor paw ooni-
Uutlflu ud a new itnigfl*; reckoa Out tot > third akment.
Add. laallj. jthnaJlunf mutlEKwr.'rspubllcao, OTldTolling pari^;

■t waiUnc whtt will Diing of it, CUmc of if . nvl of the amiloh

■' Cnmwstl. It (ppun. d«plj «rulbl* of all th<>. dm in thnD
ee)a nuks Mmniunii npeitad attompt* lowudi M l«ut ■ anion
noni tfas friand* of Iha ouiw themulis, wtaoaa aim i> una,

tWtKOon, njiorta bow lU the lieutanant ganscil ipad whan h>
ron^lit Iha aimr snndHi and pu-llanieiit gnndm 'to a

:-ES I. 567

nance which ptmialieJ heresy and blasphemy
with death.

The men of Kent, after threatening the par-
liament for some time at a distance, marched
boldly upon London. Faiifax encountered them
in the end of May on Blackheatli, with seven
regiments, aud drove them bock to Bochester.
But Lord Goring, with several officers of the late
army of the king, made heail again, and gat into
Oravesend, while other bodies of the Kentish
men took posaeaaion of Canterbury and tried to
take Dover. Ireton and Rich soon gave au ac-
count of the latter, and Goring was soon fain t«
cross the Thames and raise his Bbindard in E^sei.
He was followed by Fairfax, who drove Uim into
Colchester, and shnt him up in that place. Si-
multaneously with these movements the royal-
ists had risen in Wales and had taken Pembroke
Castle. But victorious Cromwell got again to
horse, rode rapidly into Wales, defeated Lang-
horn and the royaliata there, and retook Pem-
broke Castle. The whole of the north of Eng-
land wtui in commotion, and every day a Scottish
army waH expected acrosB the Borders. Upon
the return of their commissioners, the Scottish
parliament, after demanding from the English
the establishment of Presbytery, the extirpation
of heresy, the disbanding of Fairfax's heretical
army, the immediate restoi-stion of the king, and
other things equally unlikely to be granted, voted
that they would preserve the uniou and ends of
the Covenant, and ojipose the Popish, prefadcaJ,
and malignant party, as well as the sectaries, if
they should be put to engage in a new war; that
they would endeavour to rescue his majesty, and
put the kingdom of Scotland into a poature of
defence. And soon after they began to raise an
army, not for the defence of Scotland, but for
the invasion of England. Duke Hamilt^m and
his party, who managed these matters, took care
to proclaim that Charles would take the Cove-
nant, and give his aasursnce by oath and under
his hand and seal to uphold the true Presbyte-
rian kii-k; but the old Covenanters, now headed

thB cit)' wUhaa waU to Himllton and h^ fcrt^ thomnd 9oeM ;
the dty baa, for Hiriia tlma, oaaded nvlmaotB qnartond In H.
Ut kaapdown open rojaUtt-PnabjIarian inaunvclioa. It waa
pfwlHtj on thi manow aflw thia Tint at Cromwall'i that than
mm^ from toma vnatl caoaa. huga jqipraDtloe-riat in ths city ;
diacomfltim of traia-haniia^ aeixun of anoB. aoizarB of tf ^ gataa,
Lmigala, Nawgata, loud wlda crj of ■ Qod and King CharlM '—
rtot. not la ha appeaiad but by ' datperata charga of mralij,'
a(l« it bad laatad forlf haun."— Cmijta'i Spwbi aid Imm.
*On tha praoadljiff daj. " at a CDDfBranoa tba lordi aeqaalntad
tha cmnDni that ths Dnka of York, with tha Dnka of Oknoa-
tar, and tho Ladj Elliabath. baing tcgathai placing In a mom
tha lait night aftar aui^ar b; thnualra. Iha Dnka of fork
pdvatoljalipiMd fp

(aidan, hating |M a kajr of

Uwpuk, and

aa w« hara mqitJonad. oonl

with Bt. Junaa'a, had oidarad bit i

(Oond "— ITAiMent. Charlaa, who.

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

J UlLTTAKr.

by Argyle,tlie declared enemy o( Hamilton, were i
aa far as posaible from being satisfied with these I
assunmces, and aooD the whula Kirli of Scotland
curaed the war as impious. The vote which Ha- I
miltoti had carried in parliament wbb for 30,000
foot and 6000 horse; but he could only raise
10,000 foot aud 400 horse, nor even these till the
tuouth of July, by which time Cromwell and Ire-
tou and Faii'fax had restored order iu most pai'is
of Eiiglaud. When the Scots crossed the Bor-
ilers, they wero disgusted aud horrified at the
thought of being joiued fay the English royalists
under Laugdale, because those soldiers were Pre-
latistB or Papists, or men that had foaght against
the Covenant. The forces of tlie parliament in
the north, being too weak to risk a battle, re-
treated before IdiDgilale and Hamilton, but not
for; for Cromwell, who luul entirely finished his
work ill Wales, came up, joined I«mbert and
Lilbume, surprised lAngdale near Preston, iu
Lancashire, drove him bock upon the main body
[>f the Scots, and then, on the same dsy, com-
pletely routed Hamilton, whom the conqueror
pursued to Wariington. Lieutenant-general
Baillie, with a great part of the Scotch army, who
had only quarter for their lives, was taken pri-
soner. Duke Hamilton himself was captnred
within a few days at Uttoxeter, and Langdale not
long after was taken in a little village near Wid-
merpooL Argyle, the friend and (uirrespoiident
of Cromwell, now organized a new government,'
invit«3 the conqueror, who ba<i pursued part of
the routed army beyond the Tweeti, to Edinburgh
Castle, and tiiere most honourably entertained
liim. Thanks were given by the ministers to
Cromwell, whom they styled the preserver of
Scotland under God.

On the leth of Oc-tober, having finished his
business in Scotland, Cromwell left Edinburgh.
During his absence in the north the royalists had
not been idle in the south. Tbe Earl of Holland,
who had served and deserted every party, veered
round once more to the court, irritated by tiie
contempt in which the parliament held him, and
animated perhaps by a hope that the Presbyte-
rians, united with the Scots, must now prove vic-
torious. He coirespouded with Duke Hamilton,
and engaged to make a riuiiig iu London on the
same day on which Hamilton should cross the
Border. Aud u|x>n the fith of July, whilst Fair-
fax was busy at Colchester, he collected 500 horse
in the city, aud called upon the citizens to join
him for KirigCharles. This call whs little heeded,
fur the citizens bad suffered severely for their
liite apprentice -boy riot, nud the esrl marched
awny to Kingston -upon -Thames, whence he is-
Huod invitations to join him, and manifpatoea of

liuiD Uwinark, ilsaiipisd lor Dukis IlatDillui,"— IF'Ainluci.

his intention of ending the calamities of the no*
tiou. Sir Michael Levesey and other gentlemen,
" who took occasion by the forelock," fell sud-
denly upon him, and put him to flight after n
short but sharp engagement, in which the Lonl
Fraacis Villiers, who, with bis brother, the Duke
of Buckingham, had joined Holland, was pil«-
ously slain. Holland fled with a small part of
his horse to the town of St Neuts, but, being
pursued by Colonel Scrope, he surrendered at dis-
cretion on the lUth of July. On the STth of Au-
gust Goring and the royalista, who had bravely-
defended tbeniaelveH in Colchester for more than
two months, surrendered at discretion to Faii^
fax.

While the Earl of Holland was going over to
tbe king, Ids brother, the Earl of Warwick, re-
mained steady to tbe parliament, and performed
the most important of services. About the be-
ginning of June severe of the chief ships in tbe
national fleet revolted, and soiled away to Hol-
land, where Prince Cliarles then was, aud witli
him his brother the Duke of York. The par-
liament at this crisis re-sppointed the Earl of
Warwick to be lord high-admiral. From tito
moment that he raised his flag mutiny and deser-
tion ceased. He stationed himself at tbe month
of the Thames to watch the Essex c«ast, to pre-
vent supplies aud reinforcements being sent to
Colchester, and to defend the Approach to Lon-
don. In the month of July the Priuce of Wales
appeared in the Downs with a good fleet, oonual-
iug of the English ships which had deserted to
him, aud of some which he had procurrd abroad.
Men woidd uatui-ally have imagiued that the
sou's first attempt would have been for the liber-
ation of his father from Carisbrooke Castle; but,
though youug Cliarles remained absolute master
of the sea and coasts for several weeks, Warwick
being too weak to face him, no such attempt was
ever made. Clarendon says plainly, that the per-
son of the kiug was not wanted, or at least that
"it cannot be imagined how wonderfully fear-
ful some persons in Frtmce were that he shoutil
have made his escape, ami the drend they had of
his coming thither,"

The utter failure of Duke Hamilton's expedi-
tion, and of all the royalist risings, the surrender
of Colchester, and the temj^r of the people along
the coasts, rendered the presence of the royalist
fleet useless; but still if it bad sailed to the Isle
of Wight it might have saved the king. The
hapless prisoner expresaly urged this course by
a message. Yet Prince Charles still lay about
the Downs. To our minds these things suggest
darker thoughts than arise out of any other tran-
saction of the times. On the other side Wai^
wick wtuted patiently till Sir George Ayseougb,
I successfully sailing by Prince Charles in the night.

,v Google

AD. 1W6-16J0.I CHAD

brought round r«infurrcments fioiu Portsmouth,
Then the parlj&meut's fleet was a match for the
n^alialfi, but the priDce ventured no attack, fired
not a gun, and, through a real or pretended waut
of proviaioua, stood round and steered awaj for
the Dutch coast, without an effort for— appar-
rntiy without a thought of— his hapless fatljer.

While Cromwell, who had with him several
of the republican leaders in parliament, was en-
gaged as yet with the war in Walee, the Pres-
byterians carried several important votes, and
entirely annulled and made void the resolution
against making more addresses to the king, Em-
holdeued by their success, they proposed that,
without binding him to anything, they should
bring the king to London, and there treat with
him personally with honour, freedom, and safety i
and this would have been carried but for Crom-
. well's decisive victories, the ruin of Hamilton,
and the other circumstances which revived the
hopes and courage of the ludependenta. At last,
as a sort of compromise between the two parties,
it was voted tliat fifteen commissioners ^ the
Earls of Northumberland, Pembroke, Salisbury,
Middlesex, and Say, of the upper house, and
the Lord Wenman, Sir Harry Vane, junior, Sir
Ilarbottle Grimston, Hollis, Pierpoint, Brown,
Crew, Potts, Glynne, and Buckley, of the com-
mons— should conduct a treaty personally with
Charles, not in London, but at Newport, in the

FioiD u otigliitl iketch,

lale of Wight. The treaty was not fairly en-
tei-ed upon until the 18th of September, when
Prince Charles hod returned to Holland, and
when Cromwell was thinking of returning from
Scotland. "The king" says May, "during this
treaty, fonnd not only great reverence and ob-

[n th« KliDol-cixiin of thii building Chirln I. mat
I tppohited by pariiaiurtt to tiwt with hii
Thk Bhool nu toandtd to lfll», «nd mdowed with tn
■Ota ofluid hj tbs Eurl of BonlhimptDn, thou gortc

from the commissioners of parliament,
but was attended with a prince-like retinue, and
was allowed what servants he shonid choose, to
make up the splendour of a court. .... But
whilst Uiis treaty proceeded, and some months
were spent in debates, concessions, and denials, be-
hold, another slnuige alteration happened, which
threw the king from the height of honour into
the lowest condition. So stranifely did one con-
trary provoke another. While some laboured
to advance the king into his throne again upon
slender conditions, or none at all, others, weigh-
ing what the king had done, what the common-
wealth, and, especially, what the parliament's
friends might suffer, if he should come to reign
again with unchanged aSections, desired to take
him quite away. From hence divers and fre-
quent petitions were presented to the parliament,
and some to the Oenertd Fairfax, that whosoever
had offended against the commonwealth, no per-
sons excepted, might come to jii<lgment."' The
first of these petitions, entitled "The bumble pe-
tition of many thousands of well-affected men in
the cities of London and Westminster, in the boi^
ough of Southwark and the neighbouring villa-
ges,'' was presented to parliament on the 11th of
September j it was followeil by many others from
different counties of England, and from several
regiments of the army, the scope of them ail
being the aaroe— that the king should be called
to judgment; that the parliament should not
nngratefuUy throw away so many niir«cnloua
deliverances, nor betray themselves and their
faitliful friends by deceitful ti-eaties with an im-
placable enemy.

The articles submitted to the king at the Isle
of Wiglit were substantially the same as those
which ha<l been proposed to him at Hampton
Court. He objected to the articles regarding
religion, and refused to assent to the abolition of
Episcopacy, though ready to agree to a suspen-
sion of it. The Presbyterian commissionerB knelt,
and wept, and prayed, but all was in vain. Other
! points Charles yielded readily enough, but he
I promised, as he had ever done, with a mental
reservation to break his promises as soon as he
' slionid be able. The fact is proved by his own
secret letters. He had previously agreed in the
most solemn manner to cease all connection with
the PapisU in Ireland, and yet, encouraged by
some circumstances which had occurred in that
island, he now wrote to Orniond, urging bim again
to take the field with an Irish Catholic army. All
thia time he was buoying himself up with hopes
that his friends would relieve him. " Though
they cannot relieve me in the time I demand,"
said he, " let tbem relieve me when they can,
else I will hold it out till I make some atone iu

* ukt, Bm. am. r

in

,v Google

670

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[0,v

D MlLITA&r.

tills building my tomhstone. And so will 1 do
hy the Church of Eugland."'

Tbe Presbyterians in parlitunent added tweDty
days to tha tarty originally prescribed for tbe
■luration of tbe treaty. Tbia brought them down
ti> the 2Ttli of November; but, in tbe interval,
their schemes bad been shaken to pieces by the
Independents, Tbe army had assembled togetlier
in the town of St Albmi's, and had drawn up a
startling remonstrance to
the House of Commons.
Tbia remonstrance was
|)resented by a deputatjou
from their own body, and
seconded by a letter from
Fairfax. " It induced a
long and high debate; some
iaveighed sharply agiuuat
tbe iusolency of it, others
[lalliated and excused tbe
matters iu it, and some did
not stick to justify it, but
most were silent because it
came from the army."'

In fact, Cromwell was
uow at hand ; and he, the
most powerful of all, was
determined, above ail, to

break alike the delusive Hi'mtCi

treaty in the Isle of Wight,

and the power of the Presbyterians. Perceiving
that Hammond withstood his appeals, and in-
clined to keep the king for the parliament, be
and Ireton procured his recall to head-quartera,
i>nd got Colonel Ewer appointed in hia stead.
Ewer, a zealous republican, hastened to the Isle
<if Wight; and there, on the 30th of November,
he sent Colonel Cobbet with a squadron of horse
to seize his majesty and send him over to tbe
surer prison of Hunt Castle. Cobbet executed
his commission without flinching and without
auy difficulty.

On the same day on which the king was re-
moved from the Isle of Wiglit, the question
whether the reinonBtrance of the army should be
taken into speedy consideration was negatived
bythe Presbyterian majority. Andonthesame
eventfnl day a "declaration' from a full council of
the army was presented to the house, signifying
to it that they were drawing up with the whole
army to London, there to follow providence as
tiod should clear their way. The Presbyterian
majority mustered courage to fall with some dig-
nity. They met on the morrow; they debated
on the treaty with the king, and they sent to
order Fairfax to stop tbe march of the nrmy.
They took their seats again on the following day,

the Sd of December, but while they were in high
debate, Fairfax and bis army arrived at London,
and took np their quarters in Whitehall, St.
James's, the Mews, York House, and other places
near the Houses of Parliament. The two houses
adjourned till tbe 4tb of December. It was on
that day that Cromwell arrived in London. The
commons continued their debate upon tbe treaty
with the king, and sat all that night. They met

sufficient grounds for settling the peace of the
kitgdom.

But tbe mighty stream of revolution could not
now be checked — the sword was all powerful —
20,000 enthuaiastic men lind vowed in their hearts
that they would purge this parliament, and on
tlie morning of the Gth, the regiment of horae of
Colonel Rich and the foot regiment of Colonel
Pride surrounded the houses. Colonel Pride,
from whose active ]mrt in it the operation has
lieen called " Pride's Purge," jiosted himself in the
lobby, and arrested forty-one leading Presbyte-
rian memliers as they arrived, and sent them to
safe prison. The purge was continued on the
following day. Not a few of the obnoxious mem-
bers fled iuto the country or hid themselves in
the city; so that, by the Sth of December nil that
were left in the House of Commons were some
fifty Independents, who were afterwards styled
the " Rump." Cromwell went into the purged
bouse, and received tlieir hearty thanks for hia
great services.

•ami]' aoo jttii In biHiItfa. *hiDh Untsfaa two n
tba H*. DppolM th« Ua of Wlgbt. whics)i il KppniuliH
• mils. ItwuancUd bjHaDirVnr.toiMkiid th.
bA<*«n (b* out at □uipdiin wd tha Naadla.

»Google

A.D 1C46-1&19.]

In & day or two the Rnmp were
that the Irish Papinte were again '
aad that Omiond was acting openly with them
for the king. Oq the 13lh of December they
voted the treaty in the Isle of Wight to have
been a tnODstronB error, a dishonour, and a great
peril to the country. On the I6th a Btrong party
of horee, under the command of Colonel Horri-
•on, were detached to Hui-at Castle with nnlet's
to remove the king to Windsor Castle. It wasnt
the dead of the night when Charles was startltd
hy the creaking of the descending drawbridge and
the tramp of horsemen,' and he thought that his
last hour was come. When the commander of
the detachment was named to him, hie trepida-
tion increased, and he wept as well as jirayed.
Upon being taken out of Hurst Castle he appre-
hended that the terrible Harrison would mui-der
him somewhere on the rond.' On the 2Sd of
December he slept at Bagshot, and on the 23d
he was safely lodged in Windsor Castle.'

1649 ^° '''^ same day the Indepen-
dents, calling themselves the House
of Commons, appointed a committee of thirty-
eight " to consider of drawing up a charge
against the king, and all other delinquents that
may be thought fit to bring to condign pimiHli-
ment." A few voices were raised for the saving
of life; but on the 1st of January an ordinance,
prepared by a committee of thirty-eight, was re-
ported to the fragment of the house. The pre-
amble stated that Charles Stuart, having been
admitted King of England, " with a limited
power," and to govern by and according to law,
had endeavoured "to erect and uphold in himself
an unlimited and tyrannical power,' and that for
accomplishing his designs he had " traitorously
and maliciously levied war against the present
parliament and the people therein represented.'*
This ordinance was sent up to the lords on the
next day. Those few lords that remained in the
house rejected it without a dissentient voice, and
then ailjoumed.' Forthwith, the commons, with
closed doore, came to this resolution — " That the
commons of England, in parliament assembled,
do declare that the people are, under G!od, the
origin of all just power. And do also declare
that the commons of England in parliament ae-
Mmbled, being chosen by representing the peo-

LES T. 571

pie, have the supreme power in this nation. Aud
do also declare, that whatsoever is enacted or
declared for law by the commons in parliament
assembled, hath the force of a law; and all the
people of this nalion are concluded thereby, al-
though the consent and concurrence of king or
Honse of Peers be not had thereunto." *

While these things were passing at Westmin-
ster, Cliarlen, confident in the sacred dignity of
majesty, was deluding himself with unaccount-
able hopes at Windeor.' But in tlie House of
Commons the storm rolled onward with increas-
ing rapidity. On the 6th of January the ordi-
nance for trial of the king was brought in, and
the same day engrossed and paased. By this ordi-
nance the Independents erected what they styled
a High Court of Justice for trying the king,
and proceeiling to sentence against him; to consist
of 13.^ commissioners, of whom any twenty were
to form a quorum. Among the commissionci's
were Fairfax, Cromwell, Ii-eton, Waller, Skip,
pou, Harrison, Whalley, Pride, Ewer, Tomlinson
^in all, three generals and thirty-four colonels
of the army; the Lords Monson, Grey of Qroby,
and Lisle ; most of the membera of the Rump;
Wilson, Fowkes, Pennington, and Andrewe'i,
uldermenof the city; Bradshaw, Thorpe, and Ni-
cholas, serjeants-at-law; twenty-two kuights and
baronets; various citizens of London, and some
few country gentlemeu. But of all this mcmlier,
there never met at one time more than eighty. On
the 8th of January, fifty-three assembled in the
Painted Chamber, headed by Fairfax, who never
appeared after that day, and ordered that, on the
morrow, a herald should proclaim, and invite
the people to bring in what matter of fact they
bad against Charles Stuart.* On the 9th the
residue of the commons voted that the great seal
in use should be broken, and a new one forth-
with made, and that this new seal sbonld have
on one side the inscription, "The Great Seal of
England;' and on the other, " In the First Year
of Freedom, by Oo<l'a blessing restored, 1648.'*
The commissioners for the tiial chose Serjeant
Bradshaw to be their president, Mr. Steel to be
attorney-general, Mr. Coke to be solid tor -gen era I,
and Dr. Dorislaus aud Mr. Aske to act u coun-
sel with them in dntwing up and managing the
charges against the prisoner. All prelin '

•Ilwoald b« M9, NiwBlrla. Whltaluck nn "Tbtown
fbf th* iHst put tha hiyej of Nr. Btarj Hiutln. ■ notod mn-
bHofllw H«a of Coannou, mon putioolutr tba liBiip-
timi.'' Ike bjpooMiotl iiHhc* lUKbatad to CromnU on
thi* panrtan iwt «b nrj indUbmrt ■oUuill)'.

»Google

572

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

a MiuTAKT.

being arranged, Cliarlra, on the 19th of January,
was brought up from Wiudaor to St. James's, and
on the foilowing day he was put upon his trial.

The place appointed for the trial was the site
of the old Courts of Chancery and King's Bench,
at the upper end of Westminster Hall. That
vast and antique hall was divided by strong bar-
riei-a placed across it. The Gothic port&l was

opened to the people, who assembled in
crowds. Everywhere, within die hall and atound
it, were soldiers under aras— every arenue of
approach was gnarded. The king was brought
in & sedsn-cbair to the bar, where a chair, covered
with velvet, was prepared for him. He looked
sternly upon the court and upon the people in
the galleries on each side of him, and sat dowu

without moving his hat. His judges returned his
eevereglancen, and also kept ou their hats. Upon
a calling of the names, sixty of the commissioners
answered. Bradshaw, as president, in a short
speech scquaiiiteil the prisoner with the cause of
his being brought thither. ThenColie, assolieitJir
for the common wealth, stood ujj to speak ; but
Charles held up his cane, touched him two or three
times on the shoulder with it, and cried " Hold !
hold!" In so doingthe gold head dropped from his

cane. Nevertheless Bradshaw ordered Coke to go
on, who then said, "My lord, I am come to charge
Charles Stuart, King of England, in the name of
al) the commons of England, with treason and
high niisdcmeanoiirs : I desire the said charge
may be read." Coke then delivered the charge
in writing In the rlerk, who began to read it.
Charles again cried " Hold !" but, at the order of
the president, the clerk went on, and the prisoner
sat down, " looking sometimes on the high court.

■ Thii dnwihg 1> adApto! ftma th« rimtliirieoa to A Trtu Copy
()f Ihi Jounad i/f tki Hiffii Oan af Ju^wi for tht TT^if Kiig
narta I. Bf Jobn Nilsn, LL.D. FoL London, ISM. Fmn
thli work the following pBrtlcoliin an (IhItiicI ;~Tha ipan u
Ht ipul Rw Ihe triiJ wu ftom Ui« math end of WwltiiinWflr
Htll. Id the (tono Ueia lati)lii( la the Conn of Chinccr;, etid
tha floor oT thli •pux wu ntHd three rtet xiove the Booc of
Uu hall. Bonchte Ittr the oranmliiioiwn or Jndpa wen iiniclal

■ngnvlng ihc ktng li n

»Google

AD. 1646-1649] CHAB

Bometimes up to the f^llerin ; and haviDg riaeu
agaiu, and turned about to behold the guards
And apectatora, sat down again, looking very
sternly, and with a countenance not at all moved,
till these worda— namely, ' Cliarles Stuart to be
a tyrant, a traitor,' &c., were read; at which he
laughed, as he sat, In the face of the court."
When the long charge was finished, taxing the
king with the whole of the civil war, with the
death of thousands of the free people of the na-
tion, with divisions within the land, invaaioua
from foreign parts, the wast« of the public trea-
anry, the decay of trade, the spoliation and deso-
lation of great parts of the country, the continued
commissions to the prince and other rebels, to
the Marquid uf Ormoud, the Irisli Papists, &c.,
Bradshaw, the lord-president, told him that the
court expected his answer. Charles replied with
great dignity and cleameas. He demanded by
what lawful authority he was brought thither.
" I was not long ago," said he " in the Isle of
Wight; how I came there is a louger story than
is Rt at this time for me to speak of; but there I
entered into a treaty with both Houses of Parlia-
ment with as much public faith as is possible to
be bad of any person in the world. I treated
there with a number of honourable lords and
gentlemen, and treated honestly and uprightly.
I cannot say but they did very nobly with me.
We were upon a conclusion of the treaty. Now,
I would know by what authority, I mean lawful
— for there are many unlawful authorities in
the world, thieves and robbers by the highway
— but I would know hy what authority I was
brought from thence, and carried from place to
place. Remember I am your lawful king. Let
me know by what lawful authority I am seated
here; resolve me that, and you shall hear more of
me." Bradshaw told him that he might have
observed he was there by the authority of the
people of England, whose elected king he was.
■"England," cried Charles, "was never an elec-
tive kingdom, but an hereditary kingdom for
near these tliousand years. 1 stand more for the
liberty of my people than any here that come to
be my pretended judges." "Sir," said Bradshaw,
"how well you have managed your trust is known.
If you acknowledge not the authority of the
court they must proceed." " Here is a gentle-
man," said Charles, pointing to Colonel Cobbet,
"ask him if he did not bring me from the Isle
of Wight by force. I do not come here as sub-

muij loldiin, uid ■ gTsI i>na* of pnpli ■( tha trial of Uio

king. . . . 8ain« who lat on tbe laffolil fthoiit Iha eoiin at (ha
trial (putlcatirl)' the Lulf Fuliftil.dld not forbor toeicliim
aloud Hgalnat tha pronedlng* of Ihe high coPTl, and tha ln*nAa-
Um iwwa of tha kln( ^^J tali •ofajaiita, iiuuDin^ that tha oonit
mw fai^miptad, and tb« aoldlan and oBoen of >h> unit had
much to do to qoiat tha ladlv and othna-"

LES I. 57S

mjtting to tfaia court 1 see no House of Lords
here that may constitute a parliament; and the
king, too, must be in and part of a parliament."
" If it does not satisfy you," exclaimed Brad-
shaw, " lee are satisfied with our authority, which
we have from God and the people. The court ex-
pects you to answer; their purpose is to adjouru
U> Monday next." He Chen commanded the guard
to take him away, upon which Charles replied,
"Well, Sir." And as he went away facing the
court, he added, pointing to the sword, "I do not
fear that." Some of the people cried "God save
the kingl"other8 shouted "Justicel justice!"'
He was remanded to Sir Robert Cotton's house,

n Corrov^ Hoina.<— Fnn

w bf J. T. Smltti.

and thence to St. James's; and the high court
adjourned, and kept a fait together at Whitehall.
On Monday, the 22d of Januaiy, in the aftei^
uoon, Charles was led hack to Westminster Hall.
As soon as he was at the bar. Coke rose and said,
"I did, at the last court, exhibit a charge of big^
treason and other crimes against the prisoner in
the name of the people of England. Instead of
answering, he did dispute the authority of this
high court. I move, on behalf of the kingdom of

' Cotton Hoius. W

utar, naar tlw wrat am] of Wattmf d-
ofSlrRobot Cotl«i(d>adl«3i;,llia
fonndn of the fkjnoui Cotton Librair; of hit ion, and of hia
jiand«Jn. SltChriitophorWian rtworih™ thahouaaln hiatime
a> In a "t«7 mtnoua eondltlon." Charlaa I. la^ at Cotton
Houa during hia trial in WaatndnatK- HalL Aitar tha trial he
•lept at WhitfhaLl, and tha night brfOre tha aumllon at St,
Jamta't — Cunnlngham'j Hand-BBok i^ LanJan.

»Google

57-t

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

IClVlL AND IflLITAsr.

England, that the prisoner maj be directed to
uiake B poeitivB answer hj way of <wnfeBiuoD or
negation; and that if he refuse so to do, the charge
be taken pro eonfeuo, and the court pi'oceed to
JHBtice." Then Bradshaw told the prisoner that
the conrt were fullj satisfied with their own
aiitlioiitj, and did now expect that he should
plead guilty or not guilty. Charles repeated that
he still qnestioned the l^^ity of this court; that
a king coiihl not be tried by sny jurisdiction uimn
eai-th; but that it was not for liiniself alone tliat
he resisted, but for the liberty of the people of
England, which was dearer to him than to liia
judges. He was going on iti this strain, talking
of the lives, liberties, and estates of hie people,
when Bradshaw internijited him by telling Lim
that he, as a prisoner, and charged as a high de-
linquent, could not be Buffered any longer to
enter into argument and dispute concerning that
couK's authority. Charles replied that, though
he knew not the forms of law, he knew hiw and
reason: that he knew as much law as any gentle-
man in England, and was therefore pleading for
the liberties of the people muie tiinn his judges
were doing. He again went on to deny the lega-
lity of the court, and Bradshaw again interrupted
him; and this was repeated many times. At last
the president ordered the serjeant-at-arms to re-
move the prisoner from the bar. " Well, air,'
ejtclumed Cliai-les, "remember that the king is
not suffered to give iu his reasons for the liberty
and freedom of all his subjects." " Sir," replied
Bradshaw, "how great a friend you have been to
the laws and liberties of the people, let all Eng-
land and the woi-ld judge." Cliarlcs, exclaiming
"Well, air," was guarded forth to Sir Robert
Cotton's house. The court then adjourned to the
Painted Chamber, on Tuesday, at twelve o'clock.
At the appointed time, Hixty-three commis-
sioners met in close conference in the Painted
Chamber, and there resolved that Bradshaw
should acquaint the king that if he continued
contamacioua he tnnnt expect no furiher time.
This done, the court adjourned to Westminster
Hall, and the king was brought in with the ac-
customed guard. Coke sgain craved judgment,
censuring the prisoner for disputing the autho-
rity of the court, and the tapreme authority and
jurisdiction of the House of Commons. Brad-
ahaw followed in the aame strain, saying, in con-
clusion, " Sir, you are to give your positive and
filial answer in plain English, whether you be
guilty or not guilty of these treasona." Charles,
lifter a short pause, said, "When I was here
yeatenlay, I did desire to speak for the liberties
of the people of England : I was intermpted. I
dedre to know whether I may speak freely or
not?" Bradshaw replied, that when he had once
pleaded be should be heard at large; and he in-

vited him to make the best defence he could
against the charge. "For the charge," cried
Charles, " I value it not a rush; it is the liberty
of the people of England that I stand for. I am
your king, bound to nphold justice, to maintain
the olrl laws; therefore, until I know that all this
is not against the fundamental laws of the king-
dom, I can put in no particular answer. If you
wiU give me time, I will show yon my reasons
why I canuot do it, and' — here the president in-
terrupted him; but Charles, as soon as his voice
ceased, continued his reasoning; and after several
iiitermptions of this kind, Bradshaw said, "Clerk,
do your duty;* and the clerk read:— "Cliarlea
Stuart, King of England, you are accused, in he-
half of the commons of England, of divere crimes
and treasons, which charge hath been read nnto
you; the court now requii-es you to give yonr
positive and final answer, by way of confession
or denial of the charge." Charles once more urged
that he could not acknowledge a new court, or
alt«r the fundamental laws. Bradshaw replied,
" Sir, tliis is the third time that you have publicly
disowned this court, and put an aflront upon it.
How far jou have preserved the liberties of the
people your actions have shown. Truly, sir,
men's intentions ought to be known by their
actions; you have written your meaning in bloody
characters throughout this kingdom. But, sir,
you understand U»e pleasure of the court Clerk,
record the default. And, gentlemen, you that
took charge of the prisoner, take him back again.'
"Sir," rejoinedCharles, "I will say yet one word
to you. If it were my own particular, I would
not say any more to inUrrupt you." " Sir," re-
plied Bradshaw, " you have heard the pleasnrft
of the court, and you are, notwithstanding you
will not understand it, to find that you are befor*
a court of justice." And then the king went
forth with his guards to Sir Robert Cotton's
bouse, where he lay.

As early as the 17th of January, the Rnnip
had been advertised, by private letters from
Scotland, that the parliament there, nemine eon-
tradieente, did dissent from the proceedings of the
parliament of England:—!. In the toleration ex-
tended to sectaries. S. In the trial of the king.
3. In alteration of the form of government. And
upon this day, Tuesday the S3d, the Scottish
commissioners, the Earl of Lotliian and Sir John
Cheseley, who were in London for the pnrpoae
of treating with Charles and the parliament, sent
to the speaker of the Bump their solemn protest
agunst all proceedings for bringing the king to
trial.'

On tlie 24tb and SHQi of January, (be fourth
and fifth days of the trial, the court sat in the
Painted Chamber hearing witnesMs, having de-

,v Google

AD. leie-icjo] CHAr

Urmined that, tlioiigh the kiug refiiaed to plea<l,
they would proceed to the examiualion of wit-
uegKi etaltundanti— in other woiils, only for tha
further satisfaction of themaelves. On the sixth
<1«y, the coromisrioQeia weie engaged in prepar-
ing the sentence, having then determined that the
lung's condemnation should extend to death. A
i]uefltion was ajjitated as to his deprivation and
deposition previously to his execution, but it wa*
jjostponedi and the sentence, with a blank for the
manner of death, was drawn up by Ireton, Har-
rieOD, Harry Martin, Say, Lisle, and Love, and
ordered to be eugrowed.

On the morrow, the 27tli of January, and the
seventh day of this unlawful but memorable
trial, the high court of justice sat for the last
time in Weatmioster Hall; and the Lord-presi-
dent Bradshaw, who had hitherto worn plain
black, was robed in scarlet, and most of the com-
missioners were " in theii- best habit." After the
calling of the court, the king came in, as was his
wont, with his hat on; ami as he passed up the
hall a loud cry was heard of "Justice!— justice!
Execution!— execution!" "This," says White-
lock, " was made by some soldiers, and others of
the rabble," One of the soldiers upon guard,
moved by a better feeling, said, " Ood bless you,
sir:" Charles thanked him; but hiH officer struck
the poor man with his cane. " Methinks," said
Charles, " the punishment exceeds the offence."
Bradshaw's scarlet robe, and the solemn aspect of
the whole court, convinced tlia king that this
would he his last appearance on that singe. The
natural love of life seems to have shaken his
lirmnese and constancy, and as soon as he was at
tlie bar he earnestly desired to be heard. Bmd-
shaw told him that hs should be heard in hia
turn, but that he must hear the court firdL
Charles returned still more eagerly to his prayer
for a first hearing, urging repeatedly that hasty
judgment was not so soon recalled. Biadshaw
repeated that he should be heard before juilg-
lueiit was given; and then remarked how he had
refused to make answer lo the charge brought
:igninst him in the name of the people of Eng-
limd. Here a female voice cried aloud, "No, not
linlf the people." The voice nas supposed to
proceed from Lady Fairfax, the Presbyterian
wife of the lord-general, who still kept aloof,
iluing nothing; but it was soon silenced; and the
president continued his speech, which ended in
uasuring the king that, if he had anything t^i say
iu defence of himself concerning the matter
charged, the court would hear him. Charles
then said, "I must tell you, that this maoyaday
all things have been taken away from me, but
that I coll more deer to me than my life, wliich
is my conscience and honour^ and if I had it re-
spect to my life more than to the peftce of th<

LES L 575

kingdom and the liberty of the subject, certunly
I should have made a particular defence; for by
that, at leastwise, I might have delayed an ugly
sentence, which I perceive will pass upon me.
.... I couoeive that a hasty sentence, once
passed, may sooner be repented of than recalled;
and truly the desire I have for the peace of the
kingdom and the liberty of the subject, mora
than my own particular ends, makes me now at
least desire, before sentence be given, that I may
be heard in ttie Painted Chamber before the lonI»
and eommom.' I am sure what I have to say is
well worth the hearing." Bradshaw told him
that all this was but a further declining of the
jurisdiction of the court, and sternly refused his
prayer for a hearing in the Painted Chamber,
which is generally, though perhaps veiy incor-
rectly, supposed to have related to a proposal for
abdicatitig in favour of his eldest son. But one
of the commissioners on the bench, John Dowues,
a citizen of London, after saying repeatedly to
those who sat near him, " Have we hearts of
stone 1 Are we men ]" vwe and said in a tremb-
ling voice, " My lord, I am not satisfied Vo give
my consent to this sentence. I have reasons to
offer against it. I desire the court may adjourn
to hear me." And the court adjourned iu some
disorder. After half an hour's absence they all
returned to their places, and that, too, with a
unanimous resolution to send the kiug to the
block. Bradshaw cried out, "Serjeant-at-arms,
send for your prisoner;" and Charles, who had
pnssed the time in solemn conference with Bishop
Juxon, returned to his seat at the bar. "Sir,'
Buid Bradshaw, addreesing him, "you were
pleased to make a motion for the proiwunding
of somewhat to the lords and commons for the
peace of this kingdom. Sir, you did iu effect
receive au answer before the court adjourned.
Sir, the return I have to yon from the couit is
this: that they have beeu too much delayed by you
already* After some more discourse to the same
effect, Bradshaw was silenti and then the king,
saying that he did not deny the power they hod,
that he knew they had quite jK)werenough,ag<un
implored to be heard by Uie lords and commons in
the Painted Clinmber. Bntdalmw again refused
in the name of the whole court, and proceeded
to deliver a long and bitter speech in justification
of their sentence. He told the fallen king that
the law was hia superior, and that be ought to
have nded according to the law; that, as the law
was kU superior, so there was something that
was superior to the law, and that was the people
of England, the parent or author of the law.

' Tta« FUnlad CliUDbEI wu u Bputmant in tlu oltl lojml
■Tati ■( WMttnlnttiTr, OHd ■■ « plad* <if nuetbi^ for tb* lonli
ad cPBMoiii vlim tbmj bald • •mlMniH. Sae m uifravlng
od oon jiNthmlw UDtin of H, vol. 11. p. Ut.

»Google

576

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil asd Militaiii

"Sir," he continued, "tlint which we are now
ujx>n, by the cooiraaml of the highest court, is to
try and judge you for your great offencea. The
charge hath called joii tyrant, traitor, murderer.
(Here the king uttered a startling 'Hah!') Sir,
it had heen well if any of these terms might
justly have been spared." Bradshaw concluded
his long speech by protesting thnt in these pro-
ceedings all of them had God before their eyes,
and by recommending the repentance of King
David as an example proper for the king to imi-
tate. Charles then said hurriedly, " I would
desire only one word before you give sentence
— only one word." Brndshaw told him that
his time was nov past. Again the king pressed
that they would hear him a word — at most a very
few words. Bradahaw again told him that he had
not owned their Jurisdiction as a court; that he
looted upon them as a tort of people met together;
that they all knew tckat language they received
from Ait parti/. The king aaid that he kuew
nothing of that, and once more begged to bu
faeardi and Bradahaw once more told him that
they had given him too much liberty already, and
that he' ought to repent of hia wickedness, and
Hiibmit to hia sentence; and then, raiaing hia ao-
norona voice, he aaid, "What sentence the law
affirm!! to a traitor, a tyrant, a murderer, and a
public enemy to the country, that sentence you
are now to hear. Make silence! Clerk, read the
sentence!" Then the clerk read the sentence,

which was — "Forall which ^_^

treaaona and crimes thia - "'-_""

court doth adjudge that he, ' " ' ' .

the said Charles Stuart, aa
tyrant, traitor, murderer,
nud public enemy to the
good people of this nation,
sliall be put" to death by
severing his head from his
body." Charles raised his
eyes to heaven, and aaid,
"Will yon hear me awoi\l,
"Sir," replied Brad-

be heard after sentence."

Charles, greatly agitated,

said inqniringIy,"No,air?"

"No, sir, by your favour,"

rejoined the inflexible pre- fkost or th

sident. "Guards, withdraw

your prisoner." Still stiniggling tu be heard, j

Charles aaid, confusedly, " 1 may apeak after the I

sentence by your favour, nirJ I may spesk after

sentence, eivr. By your favour" . "Hold!"

cried Bradslinw. " Tlie sentence, sir," stammered i

Charles; " I say, sir, I do" . Agdin Brad- I

■haw stopped him with his determined "Hold!"
And then the king, muttering, "I am not suftered i

to speak; expect what justice other people will
have," gave up his hopeless efforts, and turned
away with hia guard; and as he went through
the hall there was another cry for justice an<l

On the evening of the day on which he received
his sentence, Charlea entreated thecommissionera,
through the medium, it appears, of Hugh Peters,
the republican preacher, to allow him the com-
pany of Bishop Juxon; and this was readily
granted, as was also the society of the only chil-
dren he had in England— the Princess Elizabeth,
then in her thirteenth, and the Duke of Glouces-
ter, in his ninth year. On Monday, the Sdth of
January, the house sat early. They passed an
act for altering the style and form of all writ^
grants, patents, &c., which henceforth, instead of
l)earing the style and title and head of the king,
were to bear " dutodei libertalis Angtia aaetor-
itale paHiamenti," &c. The date was to be the
year of our Lord, and no other. The high court
of justice sat, and appointed the time and place
of execution. The king's children came from Sion
House to take their last farewell of their father.
He took the princess up in his arms and kissed
her, and gave her two seals with diamonds, and
prayed for the blessing of God upon her, and
the rest of his children— and ther« was a great
weeping.' Charles had ever been an indulgent
and tender parent. The last night of all was
spent by the king in the [mlace of St. James's,

where he slept soundly for more than four hours.
Awakingabouttwo hours before the dismal day-
break of the 30th of January, he dressed himself
with unusual care, and put on an extra shirt be-
canso the aesson was so sharp. He said, "Death
is not terrible to me; and, bless my God, I am
prepared." He then called in Bishop Juxon,

»Google

A.D. 1643-1660.) CUAR

who retnained with liiu kd hour in piivate prayer.
About t«u o'dook, Colonel Hacker, who waacom-
iiiisirioiied to conduct hira to the BcafTold, tapped
softly at the cluunber-door, to say they were
ready. They went together from St James's
through the park towards Whitehall, in the front
of which the scaffold had been erected. Charles
walked erect and very fast, having ou the right
hajid Bishop Juxon, and on the left Colonel
TomlinsoD, and being followed by a guard of hal-
berdiei-s, and by some of his own gentlemen and
Hervaiits, who walked bareheaded. There was
no shouting, no gesticulutiug, no turmoil of any
kind: the troops, men and officer*, the spectators
of all ranks, were silent as the gr^tve, save now
and then when a prayer or a blessing escaped
from some of them. At the end of the park
Charles entered Whitehall, and, passing through
the long gallery, went into his own old cabinet
chamber. There he was delayed, for the acaflbld
was not quite ready: he passed the time in prayer
with the bishop. At last all was in readiness;
and he was led out to the ecafibid, which was
hung round with black. Vast multitudes of peo-
ple had come to be spectators: they were all
silent, respectful, or awe^tricken; and so were
the soldiers. Perceiving that the people could
not approach near enough to hear him, he ad-
dressed a speech to the gentlemen upon the scaf-
fold. He called Qod to witness that it was not

:-ES I, 577

he but the parliament who luid begnn the war;
he deplored having assented to the death of Straf-
ford, saying that he was now puuished by an
unjust sentence upon himself; he declared that
he pardoned his enemies, and died a Christian
according to the profession of the Church of
England, as he found it left by his father. Turn-
ing to Bishop Juxon he said, " I have a good
cause and a gracious God on my side." He took
off his cloak, gave hia George' to Juxon, with the
single word, ''Remember!" then laid his head
across the block, and stretched out his hands as
a signal. The masked executioner let fall the axe,
which severed the neck at one blow; and tmother
man wearing a mask took up the head and
shouted, "This is the head of a traitor!" The
bloody deed was accompanied by a " dismal, uni-
versal groan."'

Lbka dJAmoiHb Id th« Aiflhion of a gnrter : on the Imok «
jAO«orft« wjw thvpictnnof hldquHn, rmrej; well limnBi
I > can of goU, On, lid mallj (namelM ulth eolduDilh'i i
id HirnnmiM wUh uiDthnr (U»r. ulamsd wiUi ■ tlka
crcif«]wliizaddiiUDand(Hwutb«IOn(ida." Inthaan
If, a npraaanta tha uppar vide of tha Gcorya, b tlia tindd-
lid e the upper ud« nati, dieplsj'lnK a jxinnit of Ham

' WAitiUtk, JliTbin; Warritk; Nairn.

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENOIjAND.

CHAPTER XVII.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY— a.d. IfiW— 1660.

TIIR COHKQKWSALTH. — A.D. 1040—1060.

Froesedingsof thslndepaniJentogaiDit the rojklUU Bftw the king'i exMiDtion — The "Eieeotiire Council uf Stale"
appointed — Attaekioa the new goverDiueDt— Prince Charlea proclajiDed king in Scotland »nd In[and — Crom-
«e?l maliea a h«tile landing in Ireland— Hia victorjea there— Ha rstnrni to London— Moatnue landi in
Scotland— He is dereated, captured, and eiecnted— Arrival of Chulee II. in Scotluid— Cromwell defeaU the
Scot! at Dunbar— ChariM IF. marchn into EngUnd— Ha i> defeated b; CrDrnwall at Woreeater— Re eMapu
to Franee— England, ScoUand, and Ireland incorporated into a Commomraalth—War ititb Holland— Na*al
victorisa of Blake — The Rump parliament becoinea unpopDlar— Hutoal jealouiiea between it and the army-^
Cromwell inggeal* tha neoeiaity of a royal rale — He purponi to diuolve the parliament — Hie (amtnaij i^ec-
tian of the members— Barbone'i parliament — Ita proceadingi— Ila Bpeed; dinolotion -Cromwell appointod
tord-protectorof tha (Jommonwealth— Formation of bia new govarmnent — Signal naval victory over the Dntch
in the Dawna — Cromwell'a alrict and impartial juatice— He anmrnoni a new parliament— Hi* addreea to the
membere— Tha7 become obstinate— Cromwell duaolvee parhament— Ploti of Levetlen and rofallrts— Xaval
ill! I mm II i1 third parliament called — Propoeal to make Cromwell king— Discontent and danger pnidncad hj
it— Cromwell r^ecta tha propoaal — Honoon bestowed on him by the parliament — Mia court, and mode of
life— Death of Admiral Blake— Meeting of parliamant— Hamben for ita upper honae— Impnolicabilitj of
establishing an upper house — Cromwell diuolvei the parliament — Plota againit hie life— Hia last illnesi —
His death — His son Richard proclaimed protector — Richanl'sdifBcultiaa — Hostility of parliament towards him
— Be abdiBatea- Monk's plots for the restoration of royalty— Hia caution and duplicity — Hii profeasions ol
devotedness to the Commonweal th— Hia march into England — Hia proceedings and intriguaa in London— Hi*
pnparatioue fur the recall of Cliarlea 11. — The new king proclaimed, and the Commonwealth terminated.

S~'N' tlie day of the king's execution,
the Independents prohibited, under
pain of high treason, the pToclama-
tion of the Prince of Wales, or any
other, to be king or chief magis-
y trate. On the same mournful day
Duke Hamilton escapeil with the Lord Lough-
borough out of Windsor Caatle. The bouse or

Rump immediately debaleil how to bring some
of the chief royalists to a speedy trial, and or-
dered that the vacillating and unprincipled Eari
of Holland should be removed to London. Duke
Hamilton was retaken the day after his flight.
On the let of February it was voted that Ham-
ilton and Holland, with Goring, Lord Cape), and
Colonel Owen, should be " the next persona to

COHHOHWctLTB. ■— Fmm a Ine oa

bs proceeded against for justice." Capel escaped
out of the Tower, but was apprehended two days
after.

On the fith of Febmary the commons debated
till six o'clock at night whether the House of

Lords should be continued a court of judieatiire
or a court eonsultatory only. On the Gth the
debate was renewed ; and it ended that night iu

M 0) Inchts Id diamnar: tha obrana IJ>H u

»Google

A.D. 1610 -

».]

THE COMMOSWEALTH-

579

the rote, "that theUouse of Peeraiu parliament
ia useless and duigeroua, and ought to be abo-
liBhed." Other votes were rapidly passed for
demolishing the statues of kingB, and for con-
verting England into a republic.

For some time past the i-eal executive had re-
Hided in the committee of government at Derby
House ; and this, with some very imroal«tial
chtmges, was now converted into tlie " Executive
Council of State." The president of this council
was Bradshaw, the king's judge; and its a^rrv-
tary for foreign correspondence was Bradaliaw's
friend and rektive, the iramortal Milton, who eni'
ployed Ilia learning and genius in defending the
judgment and execution of Charles. Although
they had pronounced the doom c)f the iipi"?r
house, the Indepen den tH _

admitted live earls anil
three lords into tliis y"

council, which aim) in-
cluded (Ji'oniwell, Fair-
fax, Skippon, Sir Harry
Vane, Qeneral Ludlow,
St. John, Harry Martin,
WJiitelock, and four
other commonei-s.

The army remained
under tlie comniand of '
the men wh<i had crea- |
ted it, and made it the \
liest army tlien in the
world ; and Fairfax,
though he iiail abstain-
ed from committing
himself upon the kin2'>i
trial, continued to be
commander - in ■ chief.
But in the navy lui iin-
|>ort&iit change wan
made immediately; the

Karl of Warwick waa 0:jvni cnnvwa-u-

removB,l,nudBliik«wa9

appointfd, nilh Denn and I'ophain, to commaiiil
the fle^'t.

The trial of Duke Hamilton, the Lor<l C'a[>el,
Goring, and Sir John Owen, whs probably haS'
teneil by the hostile demonstrations wade in Scot-
land. Uoring pleaded not guilty, and was dis-
missed for the (ireseut, " l>ehaving hiniHelF with
ffreal retpi^d to the court.* On the Uth of Murcli,
that court )ironounceil judgment against the rest.
Owen was respited and ultimately Hpnre<I. Duke
Ifamilton, tlie Lords Holland an<l Cajiel, wei-e
beheaded in Palace-yard on the ftth of March.

The first attack that was made upon the new
government proceeded from a |iart of that army
which had mised them to their prc'emiuence.
" Pree-bom John," who thought that the revo-
lution had not gone half far enough, put forth

a vehement pamphlet, entitled EngCand't Nev
Change. Mutinies broke out at Salisbury and
Banbuiy; but they were presently crushed by
Fairfax and Cromwell: Lilburne was shut up
in the Tower, and some few leaders of a set of
madmen, who were sighing after something very
like the republic of the illustrious Trinculo, were
committed to meaner prisons. But the Rump
took some of the worst pages out of the book of
despotism, entirely losing sight, iti several cases,
of the principles of liberty they professed. They
made it treason to deny the supremacy of par-
liament; words spoken were made capital; and
simjile sedition was converted into high treason.
The press was put into its Bhackles, and extreme
I>cna1lics were declared .igoinst such as printed
_^ or published anything

~"~ -^ against the new Com-

^- monweallh, the conucil

\ of slate, &c.

In the meantime the
lat« king's eldest son
had been proclaimed,
as Charles II., l>oth in
Scotland and in Ire-
land. Ou the 15th of
AngiiHt, Cromwell, with
his son-in-law Ireton,
lauded near Dublin, to
suppress the formida-
ble iuBun'ectlon,and, if
possible, to give peace
to a country which had
never been quiet. His
army ilid not exceed
(iUOO foot and 3000
horse; but it was an
army of Ironsides.
When these men land-
ed hanlly anything was
-.^fterSir r. i/!ir. left lo the Protestants

except Dublin and
I>erry( but now town ftft«r town was re-cap-
tured with the ntmoHt rapidily. Droglicda was
stormed on the 11th of Se|itenilior, Cromwell
himself lighting in the breach. Wexford waa
taken in the same manner; Cork, Kinsale, and
numerous other places, oi)euwi their gates. Be-
fore the month of May of the following year tha
Irish PajiisU and luyalistf were completely snli-
dned by Cromwell and his brave and able son-in-
law. Leaving Ireton to organize the country,
Ctximwell took his departure foi' London, where
his presence was eagerly looked fi>r. He wan
received with respect liy the people and with en-
thuaiaam by the array. He was conducted tA
the house called the Cock pit, near St. James's,
which had been ap]iointed and prepared for him.
Here he was vi*it«d by the lord-mayor of Lou-

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[C.v

D MiUTAnr.

don and h; nuuiy other peraoiiB of quality, wlio |
■11 expressed their own and the nfttion's great [
obligationa to him. The HpeaJter in an elvgant I
speech gave him the thanks of the house.

In the spring of this year (l&io) Hontrone, the
precuroor of Prince Charles or King Charles II., ,
crossed from the ('ontinent over to the Orkneys, I
with a few hundred foreign soldieix. In a short
time lie disemharked on tlie sliores iit Caithnesn,
with the design of iwnetrating into the High-
IuiUh, and railing hiH fnmiev followers to his ,
standard. But Montrose was a royalist Huch us
the Prenliyterian royalieta couhl not tolerate; the
cnmraittve of estates were well prepared, and
Strachan, their general, siirprise<l anil thoroughly
defeated the Marqnin just as he hail ailvaneed
beyond the pa™ of Invercarron. Montrose fle.1
from this his liint fight, leaving his cloiik and
Rtai', his swoni, and the gnrter with whii^h he
hail been lately invested, l<ehind him. An old
friend with whom he sought refuge basely be-
trayeil him to the Covenanters, who bounil him
with ro[>eB, I'arrieil him to Eilinburgli, anil there, '
in virtun of a former attainder, hange<l him on a
gallows thirty feet high. Such was the wretcheil
end of Montrose, in the 38th year nf his jiifp, in
the middle nf the month nf Iilny.

Charles II. landeil in the Frith of Cromarty
almut a month after Montrose wss hanged, being
ronstrained to swallow the (^venant as best he
could ere he was allowed to set foot im shore,
and was joined by the Presbyterian Covenanting
army. But he was allowed small time to recruit
that army t to do anything else. By the 2!>th
of June Cromwell had left Ijiiiilon and was on
his march to the Bonlers, having, three days I>e-
fore, been appointed commander-in-chief of all
the forces of the ('omm»n wealth. On the 22ii
of July, having ismcentrateil his troops on the
Bonlers, he crossed them and inarched into Sent-
Unil. The whole country lietween Berwick and
Edinhnrgh hail l)een swept an with ;i l>m<ini; no-
thing was left that could yield any comfort or
Biicconr to tlie invmlem. He adt-ancerl to Dnn-
l«r, where he received provisions fr>nn English
■hips. He then pmeeeileil to Haddington, and
from Haiidington to Edinburgh. He saw no

troops on his way, and none would come out from
Ediubur;gh to meet him. Wkitt of provisiofis, inJ
a sickness which had bn^en oat in his anny,
compelleil bim to retreat for Dunbar. TheScois
then sallied from their capital, and some of tfaeiu
did not a little mischief toOromweirs rear. Hr,
however, reached Lhiubar, and having shipped
hie heavy baggage and his sick men, he de«|^
to return inti> England. Bnt David Leslie wd
the army of the kirk had gotten between Don-
bar and Berwick, and posnesaed themselvts of
all the hilb and passes. He had only li,m
men, while Leslie had e7,()«(>. It was SuntUr.
the aist of August, when Cromwell drew up oii
the fields and braes near Dnuhar, to gaie at the
still increasing numbers and the formidable p>-
sitions of Leslie's host. Nothing was done llul
day, but, on the Monday morning, the ScoU,
urged on it is said by their impatient preacheiv
who jiroved by Scripture that their victory «*
certain, drew down {lart of their anuy and their
train of artillery towards the foot of the hill-;
and then Cromwell, who had ever aa mocli Scrip-
ture at command as any Presbyterian preachei'
of them all, exclaimed joyously, "The Lord hVh
delivered them into o\ir hands." At an opp«-
tune moment a thick mist was dispersed by tht
rising Hiin. Cromwell shout eii to his Ironside' .
" Now let (kxl arise, and his enemies shall lu
scattereiir And before the sun was much higbrr
the army of the kirk was scattered, with the W-
niendous loss of 4(i0ll slain and 10,0<VI prisanfr^
Tlie conqueror ordered the 107th Psalm lo ^
sung on the field, and then marched sgsia ta
Edinburgh, which threw wide its. gates at hu
approaeli. Olasgow followed the example; »wl
the whole of the south of Scotland quietly m1>-
mitle.1. Tlie young king fled towards the Hi^-
lanils, with the intention of quitting Smttand, <«
at leftHt the ( 'ovenanters, for ever; but the diitf*
of that jmrty made him stay, and preparnl I"
cniwn him at Scone.'

A ti HMI ^"' *'"'* ^^mwell w*« l-esifT-

■ ■ ■* ' ing Eilinburgh Caatie, dispi'li'^e

n|ion ixdiitH of theology with the PieBb)l«ri>"

preachers, and suffering from a «t of Uie «pK-

I 'hnrles I'olleeled another annv, and took up '

I Tin polit j

■ 11,1

to do what h> pltuMh ; bs ii tltd tn Dm ODnditioni bf rlntw
of B ooitBiunt. It la Dior fmm Uiii Coreiuint that * pnopls mn
boniH) toDN^ikltigin thsLoRl; that tha klnf'i pown ia not
■l«lule, aa BMUriug onttlan itppnai«Hl; itii nibjwt la ■
Uin^jM llmJUlKD :— I In n*]iiirtaf NbanllutiiHi. Then la

tloD. RlDff not onlr haia thstr ermna fttan OKI. bnt mint
nign (tmrdlnt lo hia wUI He ia aallocl Ur mi«iB,r ^0«d, b«

k tcenatat ID Um (Mndint nnlTed liwa nf

. ^. 111 TegHTil tl ge-vtnimt
n( npnii Uui kliig. H« bath
laa III the tmid. irbn aliua I
tkingaJumM tuTetfaeic
iC thiiaB oho iwat'wl ■ kin; t'
«kt upon him V» dt what ha p^
a dalkBl* pdint nt a iinf aborini

bg dnliB nt tha anbjist Kith dial <•■'

,v Google

A o. 1&13-1660.1

THE COMMONWEALTH.

581

strong position Dear Stirling. la vain Lamb«rt
attempted to bring him to action; the Scots re-
membered the lee«on that had be«n taught them
at Duul^r. Cromwell then crossed the Forth,
and sat down before Perth, "thereby to atop the
Highlanders from sending any stipplies to the
king.' Hopeless of maintaining their ground in
Suotlatid, Charles and his counsellors imagined
that by a mnrcli into England they woulil greatly
recruit their army among the royalists of the
English Itoriier, and renew the wrar under more
favourable circumstances than ever. But the re-
solution, as events showed, was adopted too late.
With the Scottish army, amounting to abont INKK)
foot and 404K) horse, Charles commeciced his des-
perate undertaking. and by rapid marches passed
through l^narkshire and Dumfriesshire, and
crossed into England. In the meantime, Crom-
well, on liuding that his enemies had given him
the slip, proceeded Ui act with his wonted <leci-
sion and promptitude. He wrote Ui the )>arlin-
ment announcing the coming invasion, but bid-
ding them Iw of good comfort, as he would be
quickly on its track. He detached Lambert with
KO(l horse to follow in the rear of the Scota, and
ordere<l General Harrison and ( 'olonel Rich with
lUKH) hortte to hover upon aud harass them h>
flank. Then, leaving Monk with a strong force
to complete tlie reduction of Scotland, he followed
the flying enemy, whom lie overtook when they
had effected a lodgment in the town of Wor-

cester. Few or none of the English had joiueil I
them; they were divided by disBensions among I
themselves; and in this evil plight, they n

encounter a greatly superior a

pureuit. On the 3d of September, the anuiver-
sat^ of the fight of Dunbar, Cromwell obtained
the victory at Worcester, which he was wont to
term his ''crowning mercj-." The flght itself,
although at such disadvantages, and all but de-
cided from the commencement, was maintained bj
the Scots with their wonted hardihood. Having
failed, in several desjiemte sallies, to secure th«
principal approaches to Worcester, they marched
out by the Sudbury gate, and fell upon the Eng-
lish, who were drawn up at Percywood, within
a. mile of Worcester, where they were preparing
to storm the town. The battle lasted more thau
three lioura : but the Scots were outnumbered at
every point, and driven back upon the town,
where they still continueil the conflict from street
to street, until they were cut down or dispersed.
In the earlier part of the engagement, the Duke
of Hamilton and Sir J<ihn Douglas were raor-
tidly wounded. Neai-ly 3000 of the SeoU were
killed, and about twice that number taken prison-
ers. CroinweH's loss was small, and set down by
himself as scarcely 2<H), but other accounts swelled
it up to nearly 1<KK>, which is perhaps nigher the
truth, ccmsidering the length and obstinacy of
the resiaUnce. "Indeed, this hath been a glo-
rious mercy," thus he announced it to the par-
liament, " an<t as stiff a contest for four or five

hours as I have ever seen The diroeuBiona

of this mercy are above my thoughta. It is, for

aught I know, a crowning meriy." He might

well call it so, as it utterly

extinguished the bo|>esof his

enemies, an<l terminated the

As for the conduct of
(.^larlia duiing this battle, in
which his last army was de-
stroyed, tlie accounts are bo
contradictory, that the truth
cannot easily be ascertained.
According to some, he was in
bed and asleep rluring thu
givater part of the engage-
ment; atid when he iiwoke,hia
only thought was to escape
t«> Scotland with the cavalry,
and leave the foot to |>erish
in hia defence. I{>otl ers, Ud
ifl described as discharging all
the duties uf a skilful leader
and brave soldier, and only
retivating when resistance
a useless. After he had left WoreesU-r about
If a mile behind him, he threw off liis annour,
mpniiied by about sixty followers, all

Hucceas, and led by the victorious Cromwell, who .
■r joined by the forcen he had detaclied it

', fludied with ' mounted and of noble rank, he rode on to Kin

I Heath, near Kidderminster, when, as it
low dark, they were eager to find n place of

»Google

582 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 'fCivit akd Milit*rt.

ihelter and concealment. This the Earl of Derby, j a wiiler circuit. On one occanioa, the night wh«
one of the fiigitiven, nsBured tliem could be found bo dark that he could not see hi» gwide, and w*b
at Boscobel House,' between Toiig Castle and obliged to direct his course by the rustling of
firewood, a mansion belonging to Papists, and the calf-skin breeches which the peasant fortmi-

nlmundinir in hidine-places where he had himself ' atel.v wo,-e. He spent a whole day in an oak, s

conimodated with a pillow and Home
scanty tmre, while the rustics hovered
about in its neighbourhood, ready-
to advertise him of danger. When
victuals failed, he was obliged to be-
come a sheep-stealer, and help himself
to collope that were supplied from a
neighbouring flock. But although
many were acijuainted witli his places
of concealment, while a reward of
XUHMi wasolfei-ed fur his apprehension,
no one could be found to betray him.
His aim was to escape to France; but
in consequence of the proclamations
denouncing all who aided him, no
master of a vessel would take any per-
non on board unless lie certainly knew
l>eforeliaud that he was not the king.
l<nwn>Fi HnroF— Fmma'tevhr J VTilker. At last, after eight weeks had been

H])ent in this critical life of dangers
been Iiarlwured in his flight fi-um WigAD to Wor- ' and expedientH, he was enabled (o embark at
cester. In their route, they |>aai»ed through the Brightlieltiistone in Sussex, at the end of October,
town of Stourbridge, conversing in FVeuch, that j and reach Die|))>e in safety; after which, he wju
they might be mistaken for toreigiierM; but after receiveii by the French king at Paris with every
a ride of twenty-six miles north from Worcea- ' eKjireKsion of syni]>atli)' ami regard,
ter, they thought it more prudent to bait for the ' Cromwell was niet, at his appivach to I»n-
night at a houite called White-Ladies, once a don, by the speaker, by the whole parliauieot,
conveiit of (.'istercioii nuns, within half a mile . by the lord-mayor and aldermen, and by an Im-
of Boscobel. Hei*, Loril Derby sent for Wil- I nicnae coucuui-se of people. Tlie myal i«lace of
liam PenderiEl, the servant in charge of boscobel , Hamplou Court was prepared for his reception;
House, who came, accompanied by his brother, j and shortly after, an estate worlh .£4(KH) a-year

'Oted to him. As he had left Ireton I
complete the settlement of Ireland, so-had lie |pft
General Monk, who enjoyed an unusiuil degree
of Ilia favour, to reduce the king's pally in Sewl-
land; and both these generals were successful.
Both Scotland ami Ireland were speedily incor-
porated, by mutual aclH, with the English (>>ni-
moiiwtallh, and all signs of mviilly were effmi-d
in those cnnntiieM.

Ever since the unavenged mnsaacre at Ainbciy-

Uichanl Penderill, and to their tried fidelity
guides the king was committed, while the com-
|iany endeavoured to protect his flight from the
(larliamentary ti-oopere, who were soon U]x>n his
track, in which resisljuice several of the king's
escort were slain, and othei's taken prisoners.
In the meantime, Charles, acoom|tanied by Loitl
Wilmot ami the PenderillH, had renioveit himself
(itnu immediate danger.

The romantic escape of the king, Iiim wander-
iugs from place U> place, the dixguispH he assumed . na, the English sailors and ])eo]ile had l>orne
and the sliifls he adopted, with the thousand- great ill-will to the Dutch, Moreover, the gi>-
and-one chances of detection and appreheniion veninient of the ITnited Provinces had treated
which he daily and hourly undei'wcnt, form al- ' the new English Commonwealth witli marked
tot^ther one of the most interesting episodes uf i disreafiect. On their aide the ('nmm on wealth
English history, and are only to be parallele<l ! men had paaaeil the memorable Navigation act,
by the adventures of the last representative of ! which established as national law, that no goods
the Stnart dynasty, Cliarleu-Eilwai-d, the Young ■ from any quarter beyond Europe should l-e in>-
t.'hevalier. His first places of concealment were ' ported into England except by veasela lielonging
in the wooils near Boscobel, and afterwards in to England or to Engliiih colonies; and that no
the mansion ittflf, until he was oliliged to adopt i producticm of Europe should lie imported except

•SouUoi b<m.h»oMb>, ur"bir wood.' beaw. it Mood i ''? English shi)M, or shi)« belonging to U>e
iu*bHBiiAii|nn*, bfoUobii wHuiBKMsanoMisd. j country which furnished the pmdnction. Tliis

»Googie

A.D 1649-1660.]

THE COMMONWEALTH.

583

deadly blow was aimed at the canning trade of
the Dutch, one of the most fruitful Bourcea of
their commercial proeperity. There were many
other grounds of quarrel between the two com-
monwealths, and a collisian waa inevitable. Van
Tromp, the beat of the Dutch admiralH, sailed
up the Channel with forty sail. Blake was in

ADMiut Bumc— )rn>Ria|irlutb]'T. pRMon.

the Downs with only twenty sail, but he insisted
that the Dutch should strike their top-masts to
his Bag, in acknowledgment of the old sove-
reignty of England over the narrow seas. Tan
Tromp refused, and kept his coarse. When he
came abreast qf hira Blake fired a gun at the

foFBl^ poller, eitAidsd Dbl J UiuB fhr :
affkjn it diapkjred ffrat jiblljtj ukd flh
tlOIH uid UDdvlakiDgm tt wu oqiulljr

onrt. ud tba pompaltT of lu Unfoiga, th* BpanUb fomn-

by Imnubillljr. Philip IV. uid Don Lali da Huv, batb of Ibnn
•oidblg uid modiinla rud— the one tram UIIrihi, the other
trwB pnid«no»— And tind of oonAlfrU which reaultod onlj In
defiAt, uplnd nlslr to thv ■Acorllj of peAoa. iind derotad thair

would biTe iiupoaeil npon them eBbtta of »hieh Ihoj ftlt them-
•elis incnpable Divided and enamlsd, the hotiaa of Asitris
ntaliied partiApe leea smbltlon tlinn power, anil, amept In caas
of abaolnt^ qaoealc^. pompona [nertrieia wju (he polioy of tba

Dutch flag: Van Tromp replied by pouring a
whole broadxide into BUtke. Then the action
commenced in earnest. It lasted from three
o'clock ill the afternoon till nightfall, when the
Dutch sheered off, with the loss of two ships.
This waa on the I9th of May, 1652. On the 19th
of July the English parliament put forth an open
and apirit^nl declaration of war. The English
seamen supported the honour of their new flag
in many obstinate and sanguinary engagemenla.
Blake was a second Drake. On the S9th of No-
vember, when he had been obliged to divide his
fleet, and when he had only thirty-seven ships
with him. Van Tromp faced hira in the Downs
with eighty men-of-war, and ten fire-ships. The
battle lasted from ten in the morning till six at
nfght, when darkness put an end to it. Tlie
Dutch had taken a frigate, had burned another,
and had sunk ttiree more ; but one of their flag-
shipa had been blown up, and the ships of Van
Tromp and De Ruyter greatly damaged. Van
Tromp claimed the victory, and clapped a broom
to his mast-head to intimate that he meant to
sweep the English navy from the seas.'

,-,, Ou the I8th of Fehruarj-, Blake
A.D. 16S3. . , . . IT ™. .

ngam brought Van Iromp ui ac-
tion in the Channel. They fought nearly the
whole of that day — they renewed the light ou the
morrow — they fought again the day after that.
At the end of this three days' fight the English
admiral had taken or destroyed eleven ships of
war and thirty merchantmen. Upon the return
of the humbled Van Tromp, the common people
in the Dutch provinces fell all into uproar and
tumult.

InnlT held (ba balaooa: iwtwitli.
] Iha i^Mda CanmniTBllh, ■>

to de]>rlTe the other of ■> Importaot • itJ^, Tha npabUeao
parliuoent adopted balther of tbaa aounaa ^ impaifiiollj appra-
datlns tha real itre(ir*li ami tSiture pnxpaota of tba two poven,
uhI avajed bj old hablta of nmtin^ It mnalnad wmTariii( bat
Doi trnpartlal between Bpaln and Pranov— afloctliif naotialitj
without knowini how altbar to abandoD it opportunalj or to
maintain It honoonblr."— Oaiist, HiiUrf </ niirr Cnmrtll
and rkt Br)IM OmnnmaM.

,v Google

681 ITISTORY OP ENGLAND. [Civil akd Miutaet.

But while the Commonwealth vnn thus tri- | factions; their delay of buaioeas, uvl tteaigu to
umphinf; on ita jiroper element, the Rump pai-- ' perpetuate themi»eIveB; their injostice and pnr-
liameDt was falling into diarepat« in the country, tislitj, and the scandalont Uvea of some of them.
They had not, except to a very limited degree, lio give tuo much ground for ]ieople to open their
filled up the vacancies in the Houne of Commons, I mouths." Whitelock agreed with him that, unliais
feeling that any election, however managed, ' things were put into some better order, it would
would leave them in a minority; and though, at | be impossible to prevent the ruin of thecouutry;
the instanM of f.'romwetl, they hail, in Novem- i but the cautious lawyer saw nothing but diffi-
ber, 16.11, decided that the present parliament I culty and danger in contending with the purlia-
should cease in November, 1G54, they continued I nient, whose power had been admitted om su-
to act as if they contemplated no dissolution, as preiiie. After tome more discourse, CromweU jiut
if they considered their power to be perpetiuil. i this signitic&nt question — " iVAal if a ni'in nhoufil
It was only of the army, whioh had made them i tnke njxm htm lu be kitigf Whitelock replies],
what they were, that they were jealous; and that he thought that remedy would be worne
while Cromwell, whose control over the army ' thau the disease. But Cromwell, still clinging
wna absolute, urged them to give up their power, ' to the notion of kingship, told Whitelock that he
they urged Cromwell to redui-e the army. If had heard some lawyers observe that by the act
there were personal ambition, and the intoiica- of Henry Vll.'a time there was more securitr
tion of power, on both sides, there were certainly for thoae who acted under a king, &« Am tirff
on both sides — as well on that of (Yomwelt as on j vhat it miyht, than for those who acted iiuiler any
that of the Vanes, the Marlins, and the other other power. "And surely," he continued, " the
Coromonwealth men— high, unselfJKh, noble, an<l ' ])ower of a king is so great and high, and 00 uni-
patriotic motives. Each, in fact, wished for power versally understood and reverenced by the pieojile
aa the means of establishing or working out a i>f this nation, that the name of it might not
system which each deemed the best for the peace, only indemnify those that act under it, but like-
the happiness, and the glory of the nation ; and, \ wise he of great use and advantage in such times
in justice to Oliver Cromwell, it must be avowed ns tliese, to curb the insolences of those vhoni
that his scheme of social policy was in itself one ■ the pi'esent powers cannot control." Whitelock
of the purest which had as yet entered into the rejoined, that if their enemies should get tbe
mind of any statesman, and one that adapted ' upper hand of them, that act of |>arliaraent of
itself more readily to the character and habits of j Henry VII. wnuld be little regarded. "But what
the community than the more finely drawn theo- do ynu apprehend would be the danger of this
rie» of the republicans. This wonderful man ! title Tasked Cromwell. White lock stated many
had certainly a long and doubtful struggle, not dangers and difficulties, and concluded his long
merely witli his former friends, but now repub- discourse by recommending Oliver to open nego-
lican opponents, but also with his own heart and tiatious with Charles Stuart, the King of Scots,
conscience; and he was quiet, or at least he ab- with the view of restoring him to the throne of
Rtiuned from any very open act, until the par- England upon such conditions as would put i>ro-

liament betrayed an intention of coalescing with per limits to the monarchical power, and secnre
the Presbyterians, who hated and abhorred both the spiritual and civil liberties of the country.
Cromwell and the parliament. In a private But Cromwell remembered the private treaties
conversation with Whitelock, now keeper of the ' he had had with Charles I., and of the chantcter
great seal, Oliver unbosomed himself. He said and principles of Charles II. he entertained the
thatbotharmyand people began tohaveastrange ! worst opinion. He broke off the conference,
distaste for the members of parliament. " And , " seeming by his countenance and carriage to be
really," said he, " their pride, and amiiition, and displeased with what had been said, yet he never
self-seeking; their engrossing all places of hon- objected it against Whitelock in any publicmeet-
our and profit to themselves and their friends; ing afterwards; only his carriage towards him
their daily breaking foith into new and violent from that time was altered."' Other conferences

* WblMoek, UrmoriaU- own dutger, nnd the pnouitlont nqnii

"Cmnwatl «ald *t hii iilgumn pmtpnnt ■ cniiTenatlon I KeTnhid it nmnlfHMil h muob aiucltti (opva ■
with Whiulimli, wtim It look 11 tum wMoh wu Qot ignHbla the wUha of ths OHintty: tiw ntona. tho tiiv':
Id hhn, 1ntt \rb oonld not *4Joum Ihs Imponding otnOiot be- I ctDditlan of the pur. the mi
twecn the parllwnenl ud hinuelf. whloh wu nude muilfWt pmrhlnf of the g«]iel, ind t
uid hut*BHl onwudi bj loah omftdentlit] oommrnitcatloni ; 11 | (Yorjr part of the en)>lre : Indtad, nil qmmioo* of ■ in^olir
wiewfeT, undone of thoae wan thet do rwt wtmit of a peciflc | cluracter, whether civil or nliglnua. won the lahJecUofrepflaud
•HUement. HoCwithaUiullni the brpcKrU; dlq>liyiid In the diKmlon and delibsnting; end thon greet pallUoal Klawhjiji
Beof the autaffonltte, theonnnict i wen cetoiilated to throw Inetmon the ruJlny pdwer, tath m tbr
ideotlia. IrrltMoil uidianlried I union of England end Scotland, the isttlenient of the KBUn i4
eneiDjr, the parllamDnC IqtrodiLcod Iretaud. and the necewiKJa at the war with the t'nlted IW
Into Hi Buuugement of puUio aflWn the mneduuBHae cf Ite tIooc^ wen locenantl; mukr deUt«. TM vmnuamA etiure

,y Google

A.D 1049-lfl60.]

THE COMMONWEALTH.

585

took pUce between Cromwell, SL John, Ijeutb*!!
the speaker, Deaborough, Harrison, Fleetwood,
&ud Whalley ; and to all these men the lord-
genenl deckrad that a "settlement with some-
what of monarchical power in it would be very
effectu&l.' It was debated )iow the present parlia-
ment might he dissolved and a new one chosen.
An nnsbackled election whs out of the question;
the Presbyterians so returned would alone h&ve
more than doubled the number of the Inde-
pendents or Republicans, who would have been
vot«d lo the Tower or the scaffold, or agun ob-
liged to call in Cromwell'a pikes and muskets.
Vet, hoping to thwart the lord-general and
prolong their own power ly a coalition with
their enemies, the Bump adopted the resolution
of bringing into the new pBrlisnient a number of
Presbyterians under the name of "Neuttala."
This brought matters to a head. Cromwell and
the officers of the army declared that these Pres-
byteriaus would betray them to the royalists and
destroy the religions liberty which they had won
for the country. On the I9th of April there
WBB a great meeting at Cromwell's lodgings in
Whitehall, as well of some parliament men as
of officers of the army. Those diacussious, which
lasted till lal« in the night, were renewed on the
morrow morning — the memorable £Oth of April
— but while they were in progress news was
brought them from the house, that the commons
were hurrying through their obnoxious bill, with
all its clauses about Nentrals, 8k. The members
present at the meeting in CromneH's lodgings
instantly ran down to the house, and Cromwell,
greatly excited, commanded some of the officers
to fetch a party of soldiers to accompany him.
He then marched away to the house, attended by
lAmbert, a few other officers, and a file of mus-
keteen, whom he left in the lobby. Going, then,
straight to his seat, he sot for some time in silence,
listening to tiie debato ; but when the speaker
was about to pnt the motion, he beckoned Har-
rison to .him, and said, "Now is the time! I
must do it." Harrison, a religious enthusiast,
advised him to consider what he was doing. He
sat down, paused for a miunte, then rose, and,
removing his hat from his head, b^on a speech
to the question before the house. Soon growing
warm, he told them that they were deniers of
justice, oppressors, self-seekets, openly profane
men. Sir Harry Vane or Sir Peter Wentworth,
or botli, rose to remonstrate, and told )iim that

this WHS not parliamentary language. " I know
it,' cried Cromwell ; who then rushed from his
seat to the stage or floor in the midst of the house,
where he walked up and down, with his hat on
his head, reproacliing the members personally,
not naming them, but Showing by his gestnres
who it was he meant. Pointing at Vane, he said,
" One pereon might have prevented all this, but
he is a juggler, and hath not so much as common
honesty. The Lord hath done witli him, how-
ever, and chosen- honester and worthier instru-
ments for carrying on his work." Vane, Went-
worth, and Uenry Msrtin raised their voices.
" I'll put an end to your prating," shouted Crom-
well ; " you are no parliament ; FU put an end to
your sitting ! Get ye gone. Oive way to hones-
ter men." And stamping with his foot heavily
upon the floor, the door opened, and his mus-
keteers rushed in and surrounded him. Then
pointing to the speaker in his chair, he said to
Harrison, " Fetch him down." Harrison went
to the speaker, and bade him comedown; but
the speaker sat still, and said nothing. "Take
him down," cried Cromwell; and then Harrison
pulled at his robe, and the speaker came down.
Algernon Sydney, that staunch republican, aiid
then a yonng member, happened that day to
be seated next to the speaker. "Put Aim out,"
rried Cromwell to Harrison, who was »b oetire
in ending the parliament as Pride hod been in
purging it. Harrison iuatantly ordered Sydney
to go out. But Sydney sud he would not go
lit; and sat still till the general said again,
Put him out;' and Hairisoa and Worsley, who
commanded Cromwell's own regiment of foot,
laid their hands upon his shoulders, as if they
'onld force him. Then Sydney rose, and went
towards the door; and Cromwell went up to
the table where the mace lay, and, pointing to it,
cried, "Takeaway that bauble." As the mem-
bets withdrew. Alderman Allen said that, if he
would send out the soldiers, all niiglit yet be re-
paired ; but Cromwell replied by accusing the
alderman of embezzlement and dishonesty in his
office OS treasurer to the army. And, pointing
to them as he spoke, lie called Challoner a drun-
kanl,Sir Petei- Wentworth an adulterer, and his
old friend Henry Martin a whoremaster. As
Vane passed he said aloud to Cromwell, "Tlii* is
not honest; yea, it is against morality and com-
mon honesty.* "Sir Harry Vane! Sir Harry
Vane! the Lord deliver me from Sir Harry

>m*.U. «. hi. ilda, » not .amf*

trom mialMf M.>d

ODl;, •anMimm •ritli th> oOon an

ia«ntmr,otfU

toftamt. ind Kifnetlmo grau nl

in onin to brtn, th.™ OT« to hta T

im^batliaBllll-

«t »lihopi«lli«i « fmnk wd d«ldi

«l«hl.ownwnl.

.-— Ouliot. HiH., Tgl. I. p. 3J9.

,v Google

586

niSTOET OP ENGLAND.

JClVIL A

dMii.

Vaue !" waa the genernl'a retort. And thuB the
house was aoon cleared; "for," sava Whitelock,
who was preseot, "among all the parliament, of
whom many wore swords, and would sonietiiDeB
brag high, not one man offered to draw hiseword
against Cromwell, orto make the least resistance
against liim, but all of them tamely departed -the
h-juse." When they were all gone, the dooi's
were locked, and Cromwell, with the keys iu 1 ~
pocket, walked quietly back to his lodgings
Whitehall. " When I went to the houee," said
he, " I did not think to have done this ; but per-
ceiving the Spirit of God strong upon me, I
would no longer coneult flesh and blood." In
the afternoon of the same day, being accom-
panied by Harrison and I^mbert, he went to
Derby House, and turned out the council of
state that were there sitting under the presi-
dency of Bradahaw.'

Proclamations were issued cont^ning the
grounds and reasons for dissolving the lat« par-
liament, and calling a new one. But it waa not
till nearly three months had elapsed that people
saw what sort of "known persons, fearing God,
and of approved integrity," Cromwell chose to
hold under him the legislative power of the
tion. One hundred and thirty-nine persona
the counties and towns of England, six for Wales,
fire for Scotland, and six for Ireland, were snm-
moned by writ, running limply in his own name,
to meet in the council-chamber at Whitehall, and
take upon them the trust of providing for the
future government. Aud on the 4th of July
about 120 of these individuals of his oii-n se-
lecting met at the place appointed, It was, on
the whole, an assembbge of men of good family
or of military distinction, " many of them being
persons of fortune and knowledge;" but, mixed
with these, were some persons of inferior rank,
who were recommended by their religious en-

thusiasm, their dislike of the Presbyterians, and
their influence over the common people and sec-
tarians. Of these the most noted was one Bar-
bone, a dealer in leather, whose name, conver-
ted into Barebone, was afterwards apphed to
the whole parliament, though the more common
appellation for that assemblage was the " Little
Parliament." These membeiB being seated
round the council-table, Cromwell and the offl-
cers of the army standing about the middle of
the table, the lord-general made a very long and
very devout speech, showing the cause of their
summons, and that they had "a clear call to
take upon them the supreme authority of the
Common wealtli," and quoting Scripture most co-
piously to admonish and encourage them to do
their duties. When he had ended, he produced
an instrument in writing, whereby he did, with
the advice of his ofRcers, devolve and intrust the
supreme authority and government of the Com-
monwealth into the luuids of the persons then
met, but stipulating that they should not sit
longer than the 3rd of November, 16B4, and that,
three months before the dissolution, they were
to make choice of other righteous persons to
succeed them, who were not to sit longer than a
year, aud then to dissolve themselves, after pro-
viding, in tike manner, for a succession and go-
vernment. And delivering this instrument into
their hands, bis excellency commended them to
the grace of God, and so departed. The Little
Parliament adjourned until the next morning,
having voted that the morrow should be kept
with fasting and prayer. At an early hour they
met in the old parliament house, and fasted, and
prayed, and preached — "not finding any necessi^
to call for the help of a minister" — till about six
o'clock in the evening. On the 6tb of July, the
second day of their sitting, the question was put,
" that tlie house go on in seeking the Lord this

> spatial cf sic HUthiw Hula, Lord OiinpbsU mtc— "In
ipitfl of thla indvpcodoit conduct, Um Ifsdlns mv of Lhv Corn-
to mn undHtAJiliig wbloh might huTv bwn of iiH*tln»Ue bfliwflt
to the ooDununltr. bloce tha nlfn al Edwud I. tbm hid
b4Tdlr basn anj chungfl is th« Uwi, or lfa« moda M wlmiDliter-
{□K JmtlDB in Encland. and thtj had bacoma quita nivnitad Co

aiiri a>»ii Oli.er hlrawlf, whao uij obJeoCion ou nude to Uia

■Dolitloa of ailitlni prnniiin. without the nbrtltatlan of Miy

oUian fcr llw pnrtBotkm of propartj or Innooanoa, oompUlnad

Z-mlah.' ATafTre.-maMam«g«lion-»no-oSa™l-th.t

™l. matlan might ba iniiqh brttar dlKU-ad (n prir.t^ ud

•aranl rulia-ilnElng mlllUTT oBoan, who ware for daatrojlng

iBHjurlt/ of enlighlanad JnriiU, aud vlth tbalr

m PnrllanaiDd rapaMlcava.*'
Loid Cunpball addi Id ■ sole :—" Wa haTa Bot jpat dona JaMea
to tbe modonta aod wiia mm who ippaaiad is Bnglind darinc
th» CommoBwaiath. Thair ptudanca i>ont™.la twj nriklnclr
with tlu ladil*^^ vbiah bai mailad tha
rolutlonuj laadan in all othiir mmtriia.'*

> tnU/laet.

' Moarlj all Ilia tidiealma Danta flmi to
of thii tima, ia "Ttedaemad Compton," ''~'
cf-fclth WhlM," "ir-Chriat-had-Bot dM*

br a claiiynlaa of tlM WaUlihad dianAi. Sir Antcnj Aihla^
Cooper, anamrdi BoalebiBtad ■• Eulof ahanadHuj, •

»Google

THE COMMONWEALTH.

5&7

iXay," but it wu negatived, sad Moiidaj, the
1 Ith, wu fixed for that holjr exercise. Yet when
they put themseUee in bosineas motioa this
Little Parliuoeut waa kxid foiinii too quick.
They voted the abolition of the High Court of
Ch&nceryi they nominated a set of commtxuoneFS
to preside iu eourta of juatice; and they aimed a
death-blow at tithes, without taking miich care
to provide an eqoivaleut They entertained also
other projects which alarmed their nominator,
who could never oommand a steady majority
either in this or in any other of hia parliamenta;
and on the 12th of December, little more than
five months after their first meeting, tliey were
prevailed upon, by the maiuEuvrea of Cromwell,
to dinolve themselveti, and surrender their trust
into his hands.'

Then the lord-general held a cououil of officers,
and, certain other persons being joined with them
to advise, it was resolved to have a Common-
wealth iu a *iajfUperion — " which person shonld
be the Lrad-geueral Cromwell, under the title
and dignity of Loi-d- protector of England, Scot-
land, and Ireland, and the dominions and terri-
tories thereunto belonj^g, to lie advised and
aamated by a council of godly, able, and discreet
persons, to be not more than twenty-oue." And,
accordingly, as lord-protector, Oliver Cromwell
was solemnly inaugurated on the 16th of Decem-
ber, being seated in a chair of state, which loolced
very like a throne, in the midst of the Court of

Chancery. The prerogatives which were con-
ferred upon hiu, or, rather, which were taken
by himself, were almost regal. The supreme
l^pslativH authority was declared to be, and
reside, in the lord - protector and parliament
All commissions, patents, writs, processes, &c.,
were to run in the name and style of the lord-
protector, from whom, for the future, should be
derived all magistracy and honours, and all par-
dons, except in cases of murder and treason. The
militia, and all forces both by sea and land, dur-
ing the sitting of parliament, were U> be iu hia
and their hands, but, in tba intervals of parlia-
ment, in his and the council's only. The powers
of making war and peace were to remain with
bira and his council. The new parliaraeut was
to consist of 4O0 English, thirty Scots, and thirty
Irish members. The council of government was
to consist of Philip, Lord Viscount Lisle, Chariea
Fleetwood, Esq., John I^mbert, Esq., Sir Gilbert
Pickering, Baronet, Sir Cbarlea Wolaey, Baronet,
Sir Antony Ashley Cooper, Baronet, Edward
Montague, John Deeborough, Walter Strickland,
Henry Lawrence, William Sydenham, Philip
Jones, Richard Uajor, Francis Sous, and Philip
Skipton, Esquires. The office of Lord-protector
of the Common wealth was declared to be for life.
In the interval which had elapsed since the
forcible expulsion of the Hump, the maritime
war had been conducted with great vigour and
success — the English fleet having, according to a

■ pnlitloJ uiil a nllgloui [urtloii. Of Iba (Utun of
01 Arm ha (inki Ibw ^—
"In ISM, kitet twain jrtui of antat, lUt Uhh phtUmIimI
tirtij ■pp«u«iJ And &U«d hi theli daaigiu, Tliaf oofbt

. Th€ le(>I P*nr> qnkklr UimM ulda.
wl Uwi Bponkfld and tmoj^sd

HI wHna—1 pariiuuntuT nIOnui |Jari>h
la UH DoTej DM to whioh it wM wjth«cl tf> fep^alj thsm ; aft«
twslT« jroumof domlnMion It hi* tha Homaof Commonfl n-
dniad, bf tl» momwIti upnUan of (Iw nj^lMi uul Pni-
bjtuiua, to B TM7 nuill uomber of mombsn, Jiptii «oJ
titumtd tij tbs puhlk. uid utUrlj inc^nbjftof (ovomlDf. Hu
npnblkmu fmnj H«n lo hire inooMdad tmi.; Iha Hoiwi of

■11 npnbUcMiL Tboj might balism uvl okU thnnliw muUn
of Ilia nmntiT ; but Iho ooimtrj iwlut^j nfdHl to »llow lUalf
toboptToniDd bjLheoj. uid tfanjHBnlnoapAhlaDfglTiniraffeat

iMBaiwof

dDoUojt to prwTfl onlar.

" Tha thno gnat putla of tlM RnolDtIm, then, hid bam
■uoBBtriTBlj ealled qpon to ocnuluct Lt, to gvrtm Uw oonntrj
lunnliiif to thalr ibUlIj ud auxirim : uid thtj had bva taaai
laaf.ilt of doJBi ■> ; theji bad all tfam oamfliMj ttilti, and

man ma imid who laft xKithinc lo fbrtnna that ha oould plaaa
bg/oDd In naoh hj oouoagl aud Ibmight,' an upniilaD quit*
~ which all hlituiT balia. No nuu nw left man

'Ith mota ISBKritj, frithaol iiMfo or ol«J»t. bat
fiv a* Ikta would panult him. Cram.
Willi li chatactvitnd by a botuidlvi ambithm and an admliabla

at pnigniakn. tha art of turning torPatv to aoowmt, wHboat

he wu luitad ftrr all Ifaa phsMa, tha moat dMlnct and railad,
of thfl RaroluUon. He waa aqnallj a man for tlia Oiit u tor tha
lait of Ita pgrtodai In Iha bi^DBliic the iHtiiatoi of inninsUoa.
tba pTOfiHjtar of ananhy, and tha flsneat nvolntlDubt In Ea^-

ordar and aDolal urfanltatlou ; thw plajrlog bj himaalf aluna all
- dlTldBl

■ man. wbooe ambltlan had abown Itoalf lo

, darlBg and InHtiabla, who had alwaya adrancod riWilrg ftntnna

before him, and stayed bjr no barrier, eiblhitad a food laiiH.

pmiinoa, and parooptiiBi of tha piacCicable, (aOoliiit lo omtlvl

doilna."— QuIiDt, CinliotiM ia gunpi.

• Google

588

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CiTIL AHD iflLITART.

piiQ of those days, out-trumped Van Tromp.
Thia Neptune of the Dutch ag&in came in the
DowuH, with a fleet of 108 sail. On the 2d of
Jane, 16S3, 0«ueralB Monk and Dean engaged
him; on the 3(1, the gallant Blake come up and
decided the action. The Dutch lout aeveDteen of
their ships, which were sunk or taken; the Eng-
lish lost not a abip, but General Dean unfortu-
nately fell in the first day of the action. By the
21tth of July, Van Tromp again got to sea, and
with 12U ships. On Sunday morning, the 3l8t
of July, Monk and Blake encountered him with
an inferior force. This was by far the roost ter-
rible and decisive of all these great aeo-fighta.
It lasted five hours, at the closest quarters. Van
Tromp was killed by a musket-shot. The Dutch
lost thirty sbipa, the English only two. It put
an end lo the wnr, and allowed the protector
time to attend to business at borne.

The French government now made baste to
congratulate the lord-protector, and engaged to
dismiss tlie family of the late King Charles from
France. Spain made a tender of friendship or
alliance. Portugal, which biul, in effect, been at
open war with the Commonwealth, sent over an
ambassador to negotiate for a peace with Crom-
well. Don Pantaloon Sa, brother to that Portu-
guese envoy, killed a road Eiigliab royalist in an
affmyuear the Boyal Exchange. Don Pantaleon
fled for refuge to the house of bis brother, who
{deaded the ancient ambassadorial right of mak-
ing it an aaylum;but Cromwell made the ambas-
sador deliver up the offender, and, without heed-
ing prayers, promisee, or threats, sent him to be
tried by ft jury, which, fornioretaimeBa.couBiated
of six Englishmen and six foreigners. The jury
returned a verdict of guilty, and on the lOtb of
July the bead of Don Pantaleou was chop|)ed off
on Tower -hill. Not witl [Standing this catas-
trophe, the Portuguese ambaSBador was faiu to
sign the treaty of peace with the lord-protector,
and, havuig so d<)ue, he made haste to get away
fraro a country where the laws aud the ruler
would make no distinction of persona.

At this time, the authority, if not the lite of
(.'romwell, was threatened by some of the discon-
tented republican officers of the army; and he
justified himself by the necessity of the case in
imprisoning a few of tlieir number, Ireland
rerouned tolerably tranquil under his lieutenants,
aud, Bubaeijuently, luicler the rule of his second
son, Heury Cromwell, who displayed great ability

Uia Klli(> of EngUnil M WoRmlnatar [t meuitml SO fM fit
lsn(th, W In bmilth, mid M in height. It n* hung witli
tapBrtrj ti[l IWO, nh*n. In ODnHquerux of th« IJnton of Qiwil
BrlulnsndtnUni1,>mllh<liiimiHiliu>i»inniaditionniininillu

teen niiflnillf (utiiitiiil with iliitic nininiKud fairtortDa] lubji

a statesman and organizer. But, in Scotland,
the Highlanders for the moat part defied the
ithorityof the Commonwealth; the Lords Glen-
im, Athole, Lorn, and Balcarras kept the stan-
dard of Charles II. flying, and, upon being joined
by General Middleton from the Continent, they
assumed a very menacing attitude. But when
General Monk, re-appointed hy Cromwell to the
chief command iu Scotland, returned to that
itry after his victories over the Dutch, he
quelled the Highland insurrection with infinite
and compelled Hiddleton to run back to his
exiled master. Yet it appears that, as early as
this at least, Charles was tampering with Monk.
Un the 3d of Sept«mber, ibo members of the
iw parliameut assembled, and beard a long sei^
on in Westminster Abbey. This day, though
Sunday, had been chosen because it was the
anuiveraary of the great victories of Dunbar aud
Worcester, and because Cromwell considered it
as his lucky day. On the morrow, after another
sermon, the members followed Cromwell to the
Pidiited Chnmbei'. Tliei-e the protector took his

Tu> Pairtiii Crax

Prom ■ tiew b; J T. fmlth.

seat in a chair of state^as like a throne as it
well might be— the members, all uncovered, sat

upon benches round about him; and, all being
silent, "Ilia highness" took off his hat, and made
" a large and subtle speech," He spoke to them
cif the great danger resulting from the anarchic

rt cmntfot dmwlnt* in

»Google

A.D. 1649—1660.1

THE COMMONWEALTH.

HRfl

prindples of the Levellera, a.ad the fantastic
opiaioDH of tbe Fifth Mooarchj Men, who, if
left to themeelvea, would deatroy liberty, pro-
perty, tOiW, and rstiODal religion, Id order to in-
(Todnce their wild systems of government under
the mask of the most sacred of all libeTttes — the
liberty of couacieuce. [These Fifth Monarchy
Men confidently expected that the millenDiuiu
was at hand, that Christ was coming, and that
they, afl the blessed saints, were to hold under
him the exclusive dominion of the whole world.]
He went aa to t«ll them ttiat there had beeu too
much sub vei'ting and undoing; that "overturn,
overturn, overturn,' was a Scripture phrase very
much abused, and applied to justify all kinds of
turbulent practices; IJiat the enemies of civil and
religious liberty were not idle, but were seeking
every instant to profit by internal diBaeuHions.
He took ci'edit to himself — and not without good
reason— for the Bucceesful and glorioas temiiiia-
tiou of the Dutch war, for the strict and uiiint-
pedad course of justice, for the excellent men he
had nominated as judges, and for the checks he
had giveu to the preachers of fanaticism and
anarchy. When Cromwell had done speaking,
the members weut to their house; elected the old
speaker, Lenthall; re-appointed several of the
officers of the Long Parliament, and named the
13lh of September as a day of humiliation. But,
ou the morrow, thej called in question the recent
constitution, or " instrument of government," by
appointing a committee oi privileges, and by
moving that the house should deliberate whether
the l^ialative power shquld or should not be in
a single person and a parliament. Many violent
speeches wet« made against the [n-otector, and
against nearly every part of this new constitution.
At the eu<l of eight days, Cromwell summoned all
the members before him in the Fainted Chamber,
and there gHve them to understand that neither
his authority nor any fundamental portion of the
new oonstitution was to be altered or called in
question. " I called not myself to this place,"
said the protectoi-; "I say again, I called not
myself to this place ! Of that Qod is witness.
If my calling be from God, and ray testimony
from the people. Clod and the people shall take
it from me, else I will not part with it," In the
end, he proposed a test or recognition of his
guvemment, which must be signed by them all.
The test was simply in these words — "I do
hereby promise and engage to be true and faith-
ful to the Lunl-protectorand the Commonwealth
of England, Scotland, and Ireland ; and shall not
(according to the tenor of the indenture whereby
I am returued to serve in parliament) propoBe,or
give my consent, to alter the government as
settled iu one person and a parliament." About
130 members subscribed it immediately, and

adjourned for one day, to give time for the rest
to sign it. la the course of the day. Major-
general Harrison, who had returned to his re-
publicanism, was arrested by a party of horse.
On the 14th of September, many more of the
members subscribed the recognition. Ou the
16th, the house voted that all persons returned
to serve in this present parliament should, before
they were admitted to sit, subscribe the test or
recognition. Yet, after this, they proceeded to
call in question tlie fundamental principles of tlie
new constitution, and to aim side blows at the
protector&l authority and prerogative.
A D 1656 Nearly five months had now

elapiwd since this parliament be-
gan its sitting, " in all which time they did mncli
in doing nothing." They had not preeent«d a
single bill to the protector; they had not honoured
him with the slightest communication ; they hat)
not voted him a sixpence to meet the expenses of
government. Ou the 22d of January Cromwell
summoned them before him, to tell them that it

not for the profit of these nations that they
should continue any longer, and that, therefore,
he did dissolve this pai'ltament.

The country was getting into a very disorderly
state. A few days after the dissolution, Crom-
well discovered the particulars of an extensive
plot, wherein many of the kin^s party and some
of the Levelling party were engaged, and were
acting in strange concert, each hoping, in the end,
to dupe the other. In several counties small
armed parties began to gather into a body, and
attempts were nuude to surprise and seize three
or four towns and castles. It was suspected that
these movements had been countenanced by the
late parliament. Cromwell arrested Major Wild-
man, one of these parliamentarians, and sent him
to Chepstow Castle. At the moment of his ai^
rest this Wildman was found dictatiug — " The
declaration of the free and well-atfect«d people
of Enghind now in arms against the tyrant Oli-
ver Cromwell, Esquire." In the month of March
there were some insurrections in the west of Elng-
laud, but they were put down by a regiment of
Cromwell's horse; Penruddock, Grove, and Lu-
cas were executed, and the prisons in those parts
were filled with royaiists. The Earl of Roches-
ter came over from Charles II., made a feeble
attempt in Yorkshire, and then fled for his life.
Similar attempts, some made by royalists, some
hy republicans, failed iu other places. But these
insurrections and plots, which at one time ex-
tended from the Scottish Highlands to the hills
of Cornwall, made the protector adopt a rigid
system of military government. He divided Eng-
laii<l and Wales into eleven districts, over ea
whii'li be placeil n major-funeral with ve
tensive authority, civil as well f

»Google

593

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil add Miutakt.

lu the pleultude of his power the protector
demaaded tvom Spaiu thftt no ED^shmiui should
ever be subject to the Inquisition, and that the
West Indies and the South Amerii:an continent
should be thrown open to his flag, with a free
trade to all English subjects. The Spanish am-
btuMador told him that this was tike asking for
the King of Spain's two ejes.' He sent forth a
gallant fleet under the command of Vice-admiral
Penn, with a land armj under General Venables;
and this expedition, which had alarmed nearly all
the courts of Europe, took and secured the very
important island of Jamaica. At the same time
» second fleet, under Blake, put down the Bar-
bary pirat«H in the Mediterranean, and exacted
iadenmities from the Grand Duke of Tuscany,
who had allowed the sale of English prizes at
Leghorn. Cromwell, who was accustomed to
say that a ship^f-the-line was the best ambassa-
dor— that he could make the thunder of his can-
non in the Mediterranean be heard with terror
hy the pope in Ronie— next interfered in favour
of the persecuted Wnldenses, a Protestant people
dwelling in the upper valleys of Piedmont. In
this negotiation, its in many others, Cromwell
was assisted by the pen of Milton. He could
■careelymakehissea-caunou even heard at Turin
hy the Duke of Savoy, the sovereign of Pied-
mont and the peisecntor of the Waldenses; but
Cromwell was engaged in a treaty with the
French, and he refused to sign it until Cardinal
Mnzarin had read a lesson uf toleration to the
court of Savoy, and had obtained from it a solemn
engagement to grant to the Protestant mountain-
eers liberty of conscience and the restoraljon of
all their ancient rights. Tlien Cromwell finished
his treaty with his brother the King of France,
and declared war against the King of Spain. In
this naval war agiunst the Spaniards, Blake was
again the hero; and he and his captains pre-
aeiitly began to fill the ports oE England with
rich prizes.

Encouraged by these successes, Cromwell ven-
tured to call a third parliament, which he opened
on the 17th of September, 1686, after rejecting
nearly KM) of the members elected. In this
" pnrifisd " assembly money was vot«d liberally,
and other bills were passed according to the lord-
protector's desire. A conspiracy, in which one
Syndtroonibe, who had been quarter-roaster to
Mouk, undertook to assassinate the protector,
and the discovery of a correspondence between
some of the republicans and t}ie coart of Ma-
drid, hurried on the debates and events which
we have now to relate.

A D 1637 ^^ ''^ '°°K '>^» felt that any

parliament of one chamber or house

was a mere nutlitv, r.r something worse, and that,

as affiiirs stood, there was nothing but the single
life of Cromwell between comparative tranquil-
lity and prosperity and civil war and anarchy;
and many men in the present parliament had
seriously deliberated upon the restoration of the
House of Lords and of hereditary monarchy. At
length a member openly proposed in the house
that his highness the protector should be bq;ged
to take upon him the government according to
the ancient constitution. Shortly after this. Sir
Christopher Pack suggested, without periphrasis,
that, as the best way of settling the nation, the
lord-protector sliould be dedred to assume the
title of king! The republican and military mem-
bers rose in a great fury, and forced Pack from
his seat down to the bar of the house. But I^i<^
had many friends; they rose to assist him, and,
in spite of much violence and tumult, a paper he
held in his hand was read to the house. Its pur-
port was to denounce the miUtaiy government of
the eleven major-generals, and to urge the pro-
tector to assume a higher title, and to put him-
self at the head of a government which ^onld bc<
managed with the advice of too Houses of Par>
liament. Forthwith it wss voted by a majority
of 101) to 44 that the motion should be discussed;
and it was debated day after day from the 23d
of February to the 26tb of March. Pack's )«per
was finally adopted by the house, who changed
its title into that of " The humble petition and
Advice of the Parliament of England, Scotiand,
and Ireland." On the last day of the debate, a
blank left for the title to be borne by Cromwell
was filled up with the word " Kino,* hy the de-
cision of 123 against 62. On the 4th of April
the paper was presented to his highness at White-
hall by the speaker and the house, " who desired
that his highness would be pleased to msgnify
himself with the title of king,' and six or seven
members were appointed to persuade his highness
thereto. Cromwell, having listened to the per^
snasive members, urged his reasons against their
Arguments, declaring that he did not tiud it his
duty to God and the countiy to accejit the pro-
posed new title. He desired time to reflect upon
this part of " the great niuclurte of England's go-
vernment;" but, as to the second great clause of
the commons' paper, which recalled into exist-
ence the House of Peers, he did not henitate for
a moment. He was convinced that a parliament
of one house was like a bird with only one wing;
he was willing, he was hnjipy, tliat there should
be two hoiises.'

These proceedings were interrupted by Uie dis-
iijverj- r,f a terrible plot of the Fiftli Monarchy
Men, who had resolved that there should be no
king but King Jhsus, and no parliament but a
SnnhiHlrim, to consist entirely of saints— that is,
I ■ Vkititark.- Danon'a Diary.

Dimliz.cIbyGoOQle

A-D. 164-t— 1C60.]

THE COMMONWEALTH.

591

of themselves. TLese mftdmen were seUed and
sent to the Tower.' Then, on the 12th of April,
a committee of the house waited again upon the
lord-protector to request him to be king. Thej
got uo answer. On the 16th the committee would
have repeated their visit, but Cromwell put them
off h} another day, being busy iu examining the
plot Oa the 20th, upon Whitelock's motion,
the committee were again ordered to wait upon
liis highneas. Here Wliiteloch himself ssys,
"The protector was satisfied la hie private judg-
ment that it was fit for him to take upon him the
title of king, and matters were prepared in order
thereunto; but afterwarde, by aolicitation of the
Commonwealth men, and fearing a mutiny and
defection of a great part of the army iu case he
ehould assume that title and office, his mind
changed; and many of the officers of the army
gave out high threatenings against him in case
lie should do it; he therefore thought best to at-
tend some better season and opportunity in this
buainesa, and refused it at this time with great
seeming earnestnessL*' And, indeed, Cromwell's
assumption of hereditary royalty was most atren-
uoualy opposed, not merely by Lambert, who en-
tertained the hope of succeeding him in the pro-
tectorship, but also hj his own brother-in-law
DesboTOUgh, his son-in-law Fleetwood, hie old
instrument Colonel Pride, aud above 100 officers
of Dame and influence. These men declared that
the offer of a kingly title was but a trap to en-
snare aud destroy him. They sent up a startling
petition or remonstrance to the house, vowing
that they who had hazarded their lives against
monarchy were stjll ready to do so in defence of
the liberties of the nation.' Therefore, if Crom-
well had set bis heart upon the mere title of king
(the power he had), he was disappointed, and
obliged to recede. On the 19th of May, after he
had submitted several papers to the house, it was
voted that hia title should continue to be that of
lord-protector. But, in withholding the crown,
the commons proceeded to give him the right of
appointing his successor in the protectorate. This
was done on the 32d of May; and on the same
day they begged him to create the "other bouse,"
the memben to be such as should be nominated
by his highness and approved by the commons.
In the same iustrument the lord-protector was
heartily thankeii for restoring peace and tran-
quillity, although environed by enemies abroad
and unquiet afrits at home.

When the clerk of the parliament bad read
this long instrument, Cromwell, after a solemn
speech, said, "The lord- protector doth consent."
On the £5th of June the parliament ordered the
master of the ceremonies to give notice to foreign
amhaasadors of the innuffuration of the protector:

and on the next day that ceremony was performed
with pomp and circumstance little inferior to
those which attend a coronation. And after
many stately ceremonies and a long prayer, " the
heralds, by sound of tnunpet, proclaimed his
highness Protector of England, Scotland, and
Ireland, and the dominions thereunto belonging;
requiring all persons to yield him due obedience.
Hereupon the trumpets sounded again, and the
people (after the usual manner) gave several ac-
clamations, with loud shouts, crying, ' Qod save
the lord -protector r At theend of all, the pro-
tector, with his train, returned to Whitehall,and
the members to the parliament house, where they
prorogued their sitting to the neit Jannaty."'

The court aud the manner of life of Cromwell
continued quiet and modest as they ever had
been; not wanting, however, a certain sober dig-
nity, which was more imposing than the tinsel
and parade of most royalties. Everything at
Hampton Court, his favonrite residence, had an
air of sobriety and decency: there was no riot,
no debauchery seen or heard of; yet it was not
a dull place, the protector's humour being nata-
rally of a cheerful turn. *' He was a great lover
of music, and entertained the most skilful in that
science in his pay and family. He respected all
persons that were eximious in any art, and would
procuretliem tobesentorbrought tohim. Som^
times he would, for a frolic, before he had half
dined, give order for the drum to beat and call in
his foot-guards, who were permitted to make
booty' of all they found on the table. Sometimes
he would be jocund with some of the nobility, and
would tell them what company they had lately
kept; when and where they had drunk the king's
health and the royal family's; bidding them, when
they did it again, to do it more privately; and
this without nny passion, and as festivous, droll
discourse."* He delighted especially to surround
himself with the master-minds of his age and
country — with men who have loft immortal names
behind them, Milton, the Latin secretary, waa
his familiar; honest Andrew Marvel was his fre-
quent guest; Waller was his friend and kinsman;
nor waa the more youthful genius of Dryden ex-
cluded. Hartlih, a native of Poland, the bosom
friend of Milton, and the advocate of education,
was honoured and pensioned; and so waa Usher,
the learned and amiable archbishop, notwith-
standing his prelacy; and John Biddle, called the
father of English Unitarians, received an allow-
ance of 100 crowns a-year. Evan the fantastic,
plotting Catholic, Sur Kenelm Digby, waa among
the protector's guests, and received support or
assistance on account, chiefly, of his literary
merits. The general course of the protector's
government waa mild and just.
~ ^f^Ht Ftiuiela-i: irkiMod. ''fttfitl rvUiia^^

,v Google

592

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[CiVlL A

) Mtlitart.

About six weeks after Cromwell's inaugum-
tion he vas afflicted by receiving the news of tbe
death of the brave Blake; who, with wonderful
Buccesa, had asserted iu all seas the supremacy
of the British flag — who had dona the most emi-
nent service to parliament, to commonwealth, to
the protector^who had been the "first man that
declined the old track, and made it manifest that
the science might l>e attained iu less time than
was imagined, and despised those rules which
had long been in practice to keep hia ship and
men out of danger, which had been held, in for-
mer times, a point of great ability and circum-
spection, as if the principal art reqnisite in the
captain of a ship had been to l>e sure to come
safe home ngain^the first man who brought the
ships to contemn castles on shore, which had
been thought ever very formidable — the firet that
infused that proportion of courage into the sea-
men, bj making them see what mighty things
they could do if they were resolved, and taught
them to fight in fire as welt as upon water.'' '
"The last part he ever acted in a sea of blood,"
BajB a quaint but spirited and correct narrator,
" was agaiuBt the Spaniards at Santa Cruz : here,
with twenty-five sail, he fooght (aa it were in a
ring) with seven forts, a csatle, and sixteen shipp,
many of them being of greater force than most
of those ships Blake carried in agunst them: yet,
in spite of opposition, he soon calcined the enemy
and brought his fleet back again to the const of
Spain fait fraught with honour." But his con-
stitution was now worn out by long service and
by the sea-scurvy; and he " who would never
strike to any other enemy, struck his top-roast to
death" as he was entering Plymouth Sound.

The protector, drawing more closely to France,
according to a private agreement, had prepared
troops to join the Freuch army under Turenne;
and 6000 foot were sent over to Boulogne under
the command of Sir John Reynolds and Colonel
Morgan. These red-coats marched with Tur-
enne into Spanish Manden, and took Mardick.
Ill the course of the following winter, while the
English were in quarters, the Duke of York, the
late king's second son, took the field suddenly
with a strong body of Spaniards, and endeav-
oured to drive the English out of Mardick; but
he was repulsed with great loss. Abandoned and
cast out by the French, and hoping little from
the Spaniards, Charles II., who was quite capa-

ble of meaner things, oflered to eeponse one of
Cromwell's daughters ; but the lord - protector
told Orrery, who recommended the match, that
diaries was so damnably debauched, he would
undo them all.*

, QjjQ On the 20th of January the par-
liament met according to their ad-
journment, and received into the house their
fellow-members who had been prevented from
t&king their seats in the preceding session; this
being done upon the fourth article of the "Peti-
tion and Advice," by which it was provided that
no mcmt>er legally chosen should be excluded
from performance of his duty, but by consent of
pnriiament. In the interval of the parliament's
sitting, the protector had provided bis peeni who
were to make up the other house, and these qnaM-
lords had been sommoued by the same form of
write which hoA formerly l>een used for calling
the peers to parliament. They were in all siity,
and among them were several noblemen, kni^ta,
and gentlemen of ancient family and good estates,
the rest being for the most part colonels and
oflicers of the army. Foremost on the list appear
the names of the Lord Richard Cromwell, the
protector's eldest son, the Lord Henry Cromwell,
his other son, Lord-deputy of Ireland, Nathaniel
Fiennes, Fleetwood, the Earl of Warwick, the
Earl of Mulgrave, the Eari of Muichester, Lord
Eure, Viscounts Say and lisle. Lord John Clay-
pole, Charles, Viscount Howard, Lord Whar-
ton,Lord Falcoubridge, Qeneral Monk, comman-
der-in-chief of his highness's forces in Scotland,
and Lord Edward Montague ; and Whitelock,
Hazlerig, Whalley, Bnrkstead, Pride, QoS', Sir
Christopher Pack, tbe ei-lord-mayor of London,
St. John, and other old friends of the protector,
were among the remainder.* If Cromwell had
been ever so much disposed to call upon the old
peers, and if that aristocracy had been ever so
well inclined to obey the summons, such a mea-
sure was rendered impracticable by the last oon-
stitutional iustniment, the " Petition and Ad-
vice" expressly stipulating that the membera of
" the other house " should tie subject to the same
excluding clauses as the members of tlie House
of Commons; and with this additional bar, that
all the members of that other house, though no-
minated by his highness, must be approved by
tbe commona But nearly every possible dr-
set strongly against the revival of the

inamut™.

> nr/M P€liHeim. Th( mlur of th)> rioh liltln •olioBe

C™,jUl««J*. TuhtalMt b.U™i.an«l.Uh. M.«Wns

hMj^ "H.i.»..ai»i.wl»dlTd..oMdMhi.o>untij-. i-mo..

nnlut* Id hit oiHltctaklngi, Mid man hlUiful In the ptrKnTn-

hsdiidglottDiHl]-. uulwubnriadlnUmry Vll.'iChiptI; )vt

hU T»l™r. whkh lim. toM am hMdly dtrfm," WhlWofk

phodi in Dk lUU M luHU bt mrubl than enonni* Ox •xuo™

tnl>.Bo«Tl(U*i.t.bnod. For(.ldl»)-titnQt™rdi.ljto

mini itiiU ■ffi>l~,hnt tokHplbnlm*nfnn)fi«lin(iia. Ib

• AHiut. Omir'" fMn.

• Tliurlo*, OoK rajvnf ITtM-Kt.

»Google

4.D. 1049-1660.]

THE COMMONWEALTH.

593

ancient upper house; the vaet majority of the
peera had been devoted to the lata king, aod
even the feeble minority of their number that
remained at Londou with the parliament had ve-
fiised taking any part in the king's trinl ; with
the exception of a few united to him by old ties
of friendship, or by their marryiug into hia fam-
ily, there was not a single old peev that would
trust Cromwell, or that he could trust. . Not yet
accustomed to this kind of recent creations, tViey ,
disdained to ait in a house with men who had j
made their fortune with their sword or by their
genius in war or law. Even the Earl of War- i
wick, who had gone along with the Common-
wealth men in most things, and whose grandson
and presumed heir had married one of the pro- 1
lector's daughters, declared that he could not sit '
in the same assembly with Colonel Eewaon, who I
had been a shoemaker, and Colonel Pride, who
had been a drayman. And Manchester, Say, and
the other members of the old House of Lords
who had been named, contemptuously kept aloof,
not one of them, it should appear, taking his seat
except Lord Eure. The reSt of the members of
the other house took their seats aa the old loi-ds
used to do formerly, and the protector went thi-
ther to open the session according to the ancient
and royal form. And the speaker, with the
House of Commons, being sent for by the black
rod, ca3ne to the lords' house, where the protec-
tor made a solemn speech to tliem, "hut was
sliort, hy reason of his indisposition of health."'
Indeed, at the opening of this stormy session,
wherein he was to be assaulted on all sides by his
old Presbyterian enemies and hy his old friends
the Independents, who had become his worst ene-
mies, his iron constitution was giving way un-
der the effect of labour, anxiety, and grief: hia
daughter, the lady Claypole, the darling of his
heart, was visibly declining, and in no human
heart were the domestic affections ever stronger

than in that of this wonderful man. When he
had done, the Lord -commissioner Fiennes har-
angued " my lords and gentlemen of both the
■iiost honourable Houses of Pariiament," quoting
Scripture most copiously, yet not more copiously
than was sanctioned by the then general custom.
From hearing this long discourse, the commons
returned to their owu house with irritated and
hostile feelings; and there it was quickly seen that
the protector, by removing so many of hia friends
to "the other house," bad left himself in a de-
plorable minoiity in this ; and also that those
members who had taken their seats by virtue of,
and in acknowledgment of the " Petition and
Advice,' were determined to destroy that last
instrument of government, and to aim their first
blows at the new house, which waa an integral

Vol. II.

and essential part of that constitution. The at- -
lack was led hy Hazlerig, who, though nominated
to "the other house," persisted in retaining his
place in the commons; by Scot, a moat resolut«
republican; and hy others who detested any ap-
proach to the old aristocratic House of Lords,
On the fourth day of the session a message "from
the brds," delivered by two of the judges, who
all attended as formerly in the upper house, de-
sired the concurrence of the commons in an ad-
dress to the protector for a day of humiliation
and fast. The commons vehemently protested
against the title assumed in the message, and
would admit of no other than that of "the other
house.* On the morrow-, the 25th of January,
upon a letter from the protector to the speaker of
the House of Commons, they met bis highness in
the Banqueting House, and there he exhorted
them to unity, and to the observance of their
own laws and rules in the " Petition and Advice."
Whitelock adds that he gave them a statement
of the public accounts and much good advice.
But all this was of no avail; the majority in the
commons persevered iu their attack, and pre-
sently broached the doctrine that the new house
was, and must be a mere dependency of the com-
mons— a thing invested with certain functions of
legislature and with nothing more — that it could
never be a co-ordinate power with the commons.
Scot raked up the whole history of the peeni
since the commencement of the Civil war ; and
then coming to the grand crisis, he said, " The
lords would not join in the trial of the king. We
must lay things bare and naked. We were either
to lay all that blood of ten years' war upon our-
selves or upon soma other object. We called the
King of England to our bar and arraigned him,
He was for his obstinacy and guilt condemned
and executed; and so let all the enemies of God
perish] The House of Commons had a good
conscience in it. Upon this, the lonls' house
adjourned, and nev«' met, and hereby came a
farewell of all those peers."' Nor did Scot and
bis associates limit their attack to the other
house or to mere declamation and oratory; they
assaulted the protectorate itself, and a petition
was circulated in the city by them and by some
officers of the army for the purpose of abolishing
Cromwell's all but kingly office. "All these pas-
sages,' says Whitelock, "teuded to their own de-
struction, which it was not difficult to foresee."
Accordingly, on the -Ith of February, the protec-
tor, without any intimation of his purpose, went
down to the House of Lords early in the moru-
iug, summoned the commons before him, and
ended a short, complaining speech with saying:
—"I do dissolve this parliament, and let God
judge between me and you.' And thus ended

lU

,v Google

594

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and Militart.

. Cromwelt'a Iniit parliament, which bttd sat only
foui-te«n days.

The protector waa never in flo much danger as
At tltis moment 1 tlierepuhlicausand their friends
"were ready both with arms and men to fall iu
with Bwords in tlieir hands;" the aruiy was mur-
muring for want of pay ; the royalist a were spirited
and combined by menns of the Marquis of Or-
mond, who, during the sitting of pni-Iiament, had
pasBed sevei'al days iu disguise and concealment
in the city of London; the Levellei-s and Fifth
Monarchy Hen were pledging their desperate
services to those who could dupe them; Crom-
well's old friend Harriaon, who had been released
from the Tower after & short cotifinemeut, "waa
deep ia the plot ;" Colonel Silas Titus, a Pres-
byterian royalist, or Colonel Sexby, or whoever
was the author of the famed tract entitled Killing
no Murder, had invited all patriots to assassina-
tion, proclaiming that the greatest benefit any
Englishman could render his country would be
to murdei- Cromwell; and yet the protector, even
sick and dispirited as he was, wua capable of
quelling this universal atorm. He called a meet-
ing of officers; he harangued the city and common
council ; beheaded Dr. Hewitt and Sir Henry
Sliugsby; Ibrewother plotters into prison; hanged
three that were taken with arms iu their hands
in Cheapaide; and not only preserved his autho.
rity at home, but alao prosecuted his wars abroad
with vigour and success. Ttioae English troops
serving with Tnrenne gained a brilliant victory
over the Sjiauiards commanded by Don Juan and
the Duke of York, and helped to take Dunkirk,
which, according to the ti-eaty, was delivered to
(^mwell,and well garrisoned with Englishmen.
But the protector waa ainking to the grave.
" The first symptoms of this great man's last
xickness appeared presently upon the death of
his daughter Claypole, whose end is thought by
many to Iiave hastened his dissolution. About
the beginuingofOctober,his distemper discovei-ed
itself to be a bastard tertian ague, which, for a
week's time, threatened no danger. But pre-
sently he began to grow worse, and so was
brought fi-om Hampton Court (where he first fell
luck, and where he made a will as to his domestic
affairs) to London." ' At first be spoke confi-
dently of his recovery, and of the good things he
intended, liy the grace of Heaven, to do for his
country; but bia malady gained rapidly upon
him, and during the night of the Sd of Septem-
l>er, less than a mouth after the death of his dear
daughter, he was assured that his end was ap-
ju'oaching, and was ovei'heard by Major Butler
uttering tliis prayer—" Lonl, I nm a poor foolish
creature; this people would have me live; they
think it will he best for Ibem. and that it will

redound much Ut thy glory. All the stir is about
this.' Others would fain have me die. Lord,
pardon them, and pardon thy fooliidi people; for-
give them their ains, and do not forsake them;
but love and bless them, and give them rest, and
bring them to a consistency, and give me rest.
... 1 am a conqueror, aud more than a conqueror,
through Jesus Christ, who atrengtheneth me."*
In the course of that night he declared, iu ths
presence of tour or five of the council, tliat "my
IjDrd Bichard" ahould be his successor.* On tha
following nioraiug he was speectiless, and ha
expired between three and four o'clock in the
afternoon of the 3d of September, the day which
he accounted hia happiest day, the anniversary
of his great vidoriea of Worceater and Dunbar.
He waa in the sixtieth year of his age.

Chouwell, iWiniiciiitlikaoEriRdnilli.'

Immediately after the death of Oliver Crom-
well the council assembled, and, being satisfied
that the protector in his lifetime, according to
the "Petition and Advioe," had declared his son
Richard to be his successor, they gave ordeni for
his being proclaimed in a solemn manner. The
neigh 1x1 uring princes and states sent ministers
to condole with him on the death of his father,
and to congratulate him on his happy and peace-
able succession to the government. The army
serving in Flanders, and still gaining laurels
there, proclaimed Richard at Dunkirk and iu
their lamp, and aent over respectful addresses to
liim. Tlie officers of the navy gladly acknow-
ledged his authority, and pledged themselves li>

> '^NdV(H-,"Hicl hii fiiflihlUHl Huretmry Tburloa. ^'nu than
Mty mui » ^mycd Rjr u b« wu tliiriiif hi» ilcliDeiB. idI«dd

■rilb Uw tenn of lib laiipli, uid upuii Ihs wlnp tt tin inyen

• UtUr of l*inl Fnlcoiil.i-iJje trt lleiiiy Cromwell In nrrler

*Th«iu4tiixuf tliscMtfruni thflftceuf (.'nmiireJL bptvHrvU
■t UafonL ScHn« uT tha tULin nf (he iMd ud biHnl >db«v to
thapUitaT. Thacutniimwhii:!! thednving linMdaAjnDaii.>
heluHSml to William Godwin, ■nlhur of ■ tUMorn if Ha ritmwmt-
mLoUki^ Emflavl.tDliliUMK unomemlmati. H'. Ardxi.

»Google

THE COMMONWEALTH,

BtAiid by liim; nnd the same wiu done hy General
Monk aiid his ofticers in Scotland.' But Richard
Crurawell was no soldier, nnd dentitute ot high \
commanding powera of any kind. He had lived i
a quiet retired life, as far hb possible aivay from |
the turmoil of goveriiraent and the bustle of the j
camp, and h« was almost a stran^r to that roI-
diery which his father had known peraonnily
illmost to a man, and over which, hy a rare com-
bioation of qualitiea^by a mixture of unflinch- \
lug firmness in esaeutiala and good nature in
minor points, by devotion and by an easy fami- '
liarity wliich condescended to drollery— he had
exercised an almost magical influence. The pay-
ment of the troopH, too, was somewhat in arrears,
and Richard found the coffers of the state almost
empty. From these and other cireumataneeii,
which may be easily conceived, the military pre-
sently betrayed symptoms of discontent. His
brother - iu - taw, Fleetwood, a good soldier, a
favourite with the army, but a weak raan in other
re<ipect«, as well ns ambitious and imprudent,
became jealous of the new protector, who had
nominated him to be, under himself, commander-
in-chief of the land foi'cea. Fleetwood secretly
encouraged a strange petition, which was drawn
up and presented) requiring the protector, in
effect, to give up his control over the army,"
Richard replied that he had given the command
ot the foi-ces to Fleetwood, who seemed genejiilly
acceptable to them; hut that to gratify them fur-
tiier,orwholly togivenp the power of the sword,
waa contrary to the constitution, which lodged
that power in the hands of the pi\>teetor niul
pnrliament jointly. By the advice of Thurloe,
St. John, Fiennes, and others, Richard resolved
to assemble the representatives of the people, and
the members of "the other house."

iw parliament met on the
£7th of January. The other house
wiis the same despised nullity as before. Scarcely
half of the members oi the commons would obey
the summons of Richard to meet him in tlint
" other house,* at the opening of the session.
Without loss of time, the commons attacked hin
right to be lord- protector, and nearly every part
of the present constitution, clamouring against
the inexpediency and peril of allowing "the other
lionne" to exist. Some of Richard's family and
nearest connections joined in this outcry, some
out of personal ambition or pique, some out uf
sheer republicanism. The republicHns were in-
vigoi-ftled by the return of Sir Harry Vane,
Ludlow, and Bradshaw; who facilitated the nia-
nanivrea of Oeneral Monk, and the return ot

59Ji

A.D. 16J9,

royalty, by the hot war they waged against the
protector. The disgnised royalists, of course,
joined the republicans. An act of recognition
was, however, pns.-;ed, and a revenue was settled
for the new protector. Then a fierce attack waa
made upon "the other house," and upon the late
ndministratiou ot Oliver, whoM best ministers
were singed out for impeachment. Rnt the
army soon stayed these proceedings, by joining
with the ultra-republican section. Under General
Ijawbert, a council of officers was called and
established, and they voted that the command of
the army should be put into better hands, and
that every ofScer shoilld declare his approval of
the conduct ot the army and the proceedings
agaitist Che late Charles Stuart, or resign bis
commission. The commons declared such meet-
ings and councils illegal. On this the lAmber-
tians drew up a repi-escntation to Ricliard, setting
forth their want of pay, the insolence of their
enemies, and their desigus, together with toiru in
poicer, to ruin the army end the good old cause,
and to bring iu the enemies thereof, to prevent
which they desired his higlmess to provide effec-
tual remetly. "This," sayH Whitelock, "was the
beginning of Rtchanl's fall, anil set on foot by
his own relations," The parliament took no
course to provide money, but eitoaperated tb«
army,and all the members of "the other honse."
And hereupon the army compelled Richard to
dissolve the parliament on the Sid of April.

On the 6th of May, Tvimbert, Fleetwood,
Dcsliorough, and the general council of officers,
keeping the promises they had made to the ultra-
republicans, published a declaration, inviting the
members of the Long Pnrtinment or Rump, who
had continued sitting till Oliver's forcible eject-
ment of the 20th ot April, 1653, to return to the
exercise and disehari^ of their Iniat; and on the
very next day old Speaker Lenthnll, and all the
survivoi-B of the Rump, being escorted and
guarded by Lambert's troops, went down lo the
house, and there took their seats as a lawfid and
indisputable parliament; and, 1>eing seated, they
forthwith voted that there should be no pi-otec-
tor, no king, no "other house." Richard Crom-
well retired quietly to Hampton Court, and
Bigued his demission, or resignation, in form.
Fleetwood, whose wife was Richard's sister, made
a proffer of allegiance to the restored Rump in
the name of the army st London, and General

I Monk liaatened to write froni Scotland to express
the entire concurrence of himself and army in
the new revolution which had been effected. On
the 2£d of June (and not sooner), letters were

j received from Henry Cromwell, a much more
stirring or bolder man tlian his brother, notify-

I ing his submission, and the submission of his

I army in Ireland, to (he present |>artiam«Dt.

,v Google

use

niSTORY OF ENOLAND.

[Civil asd Militart.

Preaaed by want of money, the Rump proposed
Belling the three royal palaces of Whitehall,
Somerset House, und Hampton Court; but they
were aold themselves, or were interrupted and
distniBSed, before they could carry into effect this
project in fin&ace. They had eoarcely vanned
their seats ere they were alarmed by oumerous I
plots and riots raised by the royalists. Tlieae
troubles grew worse and worse, and in the be-
ginning of August insurrections broke out at the
same moment in several parts of the country, '
the moat impoitant being one in Cheshire and j
Lancashire, headed by Sir George Booth, who !
was daily expecting to be' joined by Charles 11. '
and his brother the Duke of York. But Lambert !
gave a total rout to Sir George Booth's force.
Charles, who had got everything ready, deferred
his voyage. Booth and the young E^rl of Derby,
with many others, were arrested and thrown into
the Tower; and by the end of August this for-
midable insurrection was completely subdued.

But the Rump which sat in the house, and the
army which had placed them there, presently
quarrelled with each other. The Rump claimed
HD entire control over the forces by land or by
sea; the army, charging the Rump with base in-
gratitude, claimed to be independent and supreme.
An act was passed to dismiss Lambert, Des-
borough, Fleetwood, and seven or eight other
principal officers. Hazlerig, who was the chief
mover In these bold parliamentary transactions,
was encouraged by letters from Monk, assuring
him that he and the army in Scotland would
stand by the parliament, and by the like promises
from Ludlow, who had succeeded Henry Crom-
well in the command of the forces in Ireland.
But Monk and Ludlow were far away, and the
English army was close at hand. On the 13th
of October, Lambert collected his troops in West-
minster Hall, Palace-yard, and the avenues lead-
ing to the house; and when the speaker came np
in his coach they stepped him, and raaiie liim turn
back; and they treated most part of the members
in the same way, so that the house could not sit.
The council of state sat, and there the hostile
jiarties, the army men and the Rump men, came
into fierce collision. The civilians accused the
army of being destroyers of liberty; the officers
retorted, saying that the Rump would nut have
left them any liberty to destroy; and Colonel
Sydenham pn)teBted that the army had been
obliged to apply this last remedy by a special
commission from Divine Providence. Desborough,
Cromwell's brother-in-law, said with more bhnit-
ness, "Because the parliament intended to dis-
Tuiss US, we had a right to dismiss tlie parlia-
ment." On the nent day, the officers of the army
debated about a settlement, or new constitution;
auddeclwedFleet*ood,Riehard'8brother-iu-livw,

tfl be their commander-in-chief. On the other
side, Hazlerig and his friends consulted how they
niight restore themselves to power, "and they
had some hopes of Monk to be their champion."
The council of officers displeased Monk by ap-
pointing Lambert to the command in Scotland.'

It was st this critical moment that Monk, who
had been courted and feared by both parties,
began to play his own game. He had been a
royalist before he became a parliamentarian; he
had been a hot Long Parliament nan or Rump-
ite, and then a sliU hotter Crorawelllte; and he
was ready to become king's man or devil's man,
or anything else that best promised to promote
his own interests.

On the 29lh October, the officers of the array re-
ceived a letter from him expressive of his dissatis-
faction at their late proceedings, and the commit-
tee of safety received intelligence through other
channels that Monk had secured Berwick for him-
self snd was looking towards London. Idjnbert

was instantly appointed to command the forces

in the north of England ; and Colonels Whalley
and Ooffe, and Caryl and Barker, ministeis of
the gospel, were sent to Monk, "to persuade him
to a right understanding of things and prevent
effusion of blood." Monk in the meanwhileseut
to assure the leaders of the Rump that his sole
object was to relieve parliament from military
oppression: and he called God to witness that he
was above all things a friend to liberty and Llie
Commonwe.iUh. Writing to Hazlerig, whomlio
duped, he said, "As to a commonwealth, believe
me, sir, for I speak it in the presence of God-
it is the desire of my soul."' But if Monk duped

,v Google

A.D. 1849-1660.]

THE COMMONWEALTH.

the hutuiiUted and desperate members of the
Bump, he nertainlj uever deceived the English
oiBeen. On the 8th of November, Benborough,
Fleetwood, and the principal men of that body,
went to the common council in London, and
told them pUinlj " that the bottom of Monli'a
design wrb to bring in the king upon a new civil
war." Uonk, aft«r again calling God to witneaa
th&t the asserting of the Commonwealth was the
only intent of his heart, crossed tha Tweed in
great force, being openly backed by the chief
Freabyteriani in Scotland. He was facedonthe
Tyne by Lambert; but the soldiers of Cromwell,
now badly provided, had lost their old enthu-
Biaam and discipline, and lAmbert besidee had
orders from the committee of government to
avoid a hos'Jla collision ; and he therefore lay at
Newcastle doing nothing. It was agreed that
three commisaionen on the part of Monk should
be allowed to come up to London to treat with
three commissioners on the part of Fleetwood,
the nominal commander-in-chief of all the forces,
lij this delay Monk was enabled to mature his
plans, and to receive further assistance in men
and money from Scotland. Monk's three com-
missioners pretended to be very confident that
he would approve what was agreed upon by
Fleetwood's commissioners, namely, that a par-
liament should be restored and the nation settled
again in the ways of peace. The committee of
safety proceeded in preparing a form of govern-
ment, but there was no reconciling their con-
flicting theories and views and interests. Fresh
letters came from Monk to Fleetwood full of
compliments and expreasions of his earnest desire
for a speedy settlement ; but stating that what
had been agreed upon by his commissioners was
not quite enough — tliat some things remained
untreated of and unagreed upon— that he wished
for a fresh treaty to put a final end to the busi-
ness. Some of the coramitt«e declared that tliis
was only a delay in Monk to gnin time to be the
lietter prepared for his design to bring in the
king. "And, therefore," continues Whitelock,
who had himself a principal share in these de-
liberations, "they advised to fall upon Monk

party more discouraged; but this advice was not
taken, but a new treaty aaaented to, by commis-
sionera on each part, to be at Newcastle."

This was on the last day of November ; on the
4th of December some of the forces about Ix)ndon
began to clamour for pay, and to favour the pro-
ceedings of Monk for restoring the parliament.
On the next day serious disturbances took place
in the city; and intelligence was received that
the governor and garrison of Portsmouth had
declared for the parliament. Still the general
council of officers sat devising schemes of govern-
ment, republican and impracticable.' Slaving
concocted another constitution, they proclaimed,
on the ISth of December, that there should be a
new parliament. On the 17tb Admiral Lawson,
who had brought his ships into the Thames, re-
quired that the Long Parliament or Rump should
sit again. On the 2Sd most of the soldiery about
London made the same demand. At this critical
moment Whitelock, being convinced that Monk
would bring in the king without tei'ms for the
parliament party or for the country, and that he
would easily delude Hazlerig and the rest of
the parliament men, suggested to Fleetwood,
since the coming in of Charles IL seemed una-
voidable, that it would be more prudent for
Fleetwood and his friends to be the instrument
for bringing him in than to leave it to Monk.
The adroit lawyer proposed that Fleetwood
should instantly send some person of trust to the
king at Breda, and invite him to return upon
conditions. By so doing Fleetwood might yet
make terms with the king for the preservation
of himself, of his family and friends, and, in a
good measure, of the cause in which they had all
been engaged: but if it were left to Monk, Fleet-
wood and his friends, and all that had been done
for civil and religious liberty, would be exposed
to the danger of destruction. Fleetwood was
convinced, and desired Whitelock to go and pre-
pare himself forthwith tor the journey. Bnt
before Whitelock got across the threshold, Vane,
Desborough, and Berry came into the room, and,

■ "lBUMT<w1B5».»limuil(MthUiuid«mUb*iBon

ohLmeiical tbui tliit of ■ npublioui HtUamsiit in Enslu>d.

gnkn luflnltolj odnDB : jt wai amdaCttl wtth iht t^numj of
t™ T«an, ttu leUlth np^itf of iha Rump, tho bn>oc*lth3k]
dwpDtlun of CnnanrtU, the ubltruj Kquratntlon* of oora-
loiltAB man, th« blllfllftaaB dsdmmtlauBof mitiUrr pnfecte, tbo

bei thmilil go out hr rotiitkm, lud iill thoH details of pnlltlcKl
TnsohuilBbiDlmportKijt In tltoAjMof thooiliti? Evorr prr'Jeet
of tblt dncTlptioii mut biiTO vuited wbut aIodb oodU prs it
Blther tho protail of legltimato ailslAioo, or tho chjuioe of per-
tba ropnbtlcto psrtf. If in

•rho

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil asd Militart.

after a private cnnvei'satiDn willi them, Fleet-
wood called Whitelock back, "and in much pan-
eioa said to him, ' I cannot do it ! I cannot do it !
I cannot do it without my Loivl Lambert's con-
aert!'" "Then," said Wliitelock, "you will ruin
yourself and your friends." Fleetwood replied,
that he could not help it, that his word was
pledged ; and ho they parted.

On the next day, some of the members of the
old council of state, and the old speaker Lenthall,
Keeing that the aoldiera were all revolting from
Fleetwood, gave orders for a rendezvous in Lin-
coln's-Inn Fields. They also received intelligence
that Hazlerig was coming speedily Hp to London
with the revolted garrison of Poilamouth.

On the morrow the troops fonned in Lincoln's-
Inii, opposite to the house of the speaker, gave
him three cheers, saluted him with a volley, and
took the word of command from him. Tjenthall
was now, in effect, commander-in-chief in Lon-
lion. He secured the Tower; he convinced the
common council, the citizens, and soldiery, that
the very best thing to do at this crisis was to
restore the Bump. And, two daya after this, or
on the 26th of I>ecember, the Rump were re-
BtJired by the very soliliers who had so recently
prevented their sitting.

1660 *^'' ''"' ^'^ "^ January the house
voted that a bill should be pre-
pared for renouncing anew the title of Charles
Stuart, &c. On the 6th they received a letter
from Monk promising all obedience and faithful-
ness to this parliament; and, in their infatuation,
they voted ^fonlt. a letter of thanks, and desired
him to come up to London as soon as he could.
By the 2(ilh of January Monk was at Northamp-
ton, protesting that he was but a servant of the
parliament. Ou the asth he was at St. Alban'a,
where he aRiiin eipressed all duty aod obedience.
But, after kee|i:ng a day of fasting and prayer,
he wrote from St. Alban'a to require that all tlie
soldiers of the English army that were in or
about London should be removed. The Rump
ordered the troops out of town accordingly; and
on the same day Monk marched into London, in
all state, with his horse and foot: and then the
king's party talked very high, saying they were
sure the king would aoon follow.

Although Monk carefully concealed his inten-
tion of i-ecalling Charles, he soon opened the
eyes of Hazlerig and that party to the monstrous
blunder they had committed. He insisted that
the secluded members of the Long Parliament
—the ei[>elled Presbyterians — should sit again.
None durst oppose him ; the spirit of the people
generally mn that way, and the Cavali era agreed
to it M the way to bring iu the king. On the
21st of February the secluded members took
their seats j and from that moment the memirera

of the Rump began to think of providing for
their personal safely. Tlie Presbyterian inajo-
rity voted in rapid succession, t)i at Monk should
be commander-ill -chief of all the forcea in Eng-
land, Scotland, and Ireland; that all the pro-
ceedings of parliament since their seclusion shoulil
be null and void; that Presbyterian ism should
bo the one and sole religion; and that the Leagiie
and Covenant, without any amendment or tol-
eration, should be posted up in all churches. On
the 16th of March they jiassed an act for dis-
solving this parliament, with a proviso not to in-
fringe the rights of the House of Peers. Writa
were issued fora new parliament; and then Monk
finished his bargain with Charles II., giving ad-
vice but imposing no conditions. Lambert, who
had proved most satisfactorily that he was not n
Cromwell, nor fitted to be his successor, was shut
up in the Tower, after an insane attempt at in-
surrection. The new parliament met on the £ath
of April. Ten peers took their seats in their
own house, confirmed the appointmenta of Monk,
and voted a day of fasting to seek Ood for his
blessing upon the approaching settlement of the
nation, Circular letters were then sent for the
other peers, who came up to Westminster by de-
grees, till the house was nearly full. In the
lower house the utmost readiness was shown in
agreeing with the restored peei-s. Sir Harbottle
Grimston was elected speaker, and was conducted
to the chair by Mouk and the runaway Deiizil
Hollia. On the S6th of April the two houses
gave orders for a day of thanksgiving to Ood
" for raising up Genenil Monk and other instru-
ments of rescuing this nation from thraldom and
misery." They also voted thanks to Monk for his
eminent and unparalleled services. On the 1st
of May, Sir John Gnuiville, who had been em-
ployed for some time in the negotiations between
(Charles IT. and the general, arrived again from
Breda. Monk, who continued to wear the mask
when it was no longer necessary, would not open
the despatches in his own house, but ordered Sir
John to present them to him in the midst of the
council of state. This was done; and, to carry
ou the farce, Gi^nville was put under arrest.- -
But, lo ! it was proved that the letters were realfif
from the king himself, and that they contained
very upright and very satisfactory intentions;
and Grauville was released from custo<ly, and the
letters were sent down to parliament, and there
read in the name of the king. One of these
royal epistles was addressed to the lords, another
to the commons, one to Monk, and another to the
lord-mayor. The letter to the commons con-
tained the famous "DeckratioQ of Breda,* which,
in general terms, offered indemnity for the past
and liberty of conscience for the future. Thb
document was the only pledge that this pailisnicnt

,v Google

A.D. 1603-1G60.]

thought neceaaarj to be required from a prince
who liad already proved, in many caaea, that his
royal word was little worth. Deapiaing many waru-
i[igii of danger to themselveH and Uovenaut and
church, the Preabyteriana prepared an answer lu
the king's letter, expressing their aurpasaing joy ;
vot«d Ilia majesty, who waa penniless, the pre-
seut supply of i£5(),000; and sent a committee into
tlie city to borrow that money. Pryune, who had
suffered ao much from Star Chambers and High
tJourts of Commissiou, royal tyranny aiid prela-
tical intolerance, and that upright j udge Sir Mat-
thew Hale, ventured to recommend that some
more definite aettlemeut should be made before

HISTORY OP EELIGION.

I the king were brought back ; but Mouk silenced
them by assei-tlng that, as hia majesty would
come back without either mouey or troops, there
waa nothing to fear from him.

The commons continued riiuaing a race with
the lords iu this new loyaity; and, after other
votes, they seut twelve of their membei's to wut
upon tlie king. Nor were the lord-major and
common council of Londou a whit leas loyal

On the 6tb of May Charles wiis solemnly pro-
claimed at Westmitiater Hall gat«, the lords and
commona ataudiug bareheaded while the pro-
clamation was made by the heralda. And so
ended the Commonwealth.

CHAPTER XVIII.— HISTORY OF RELIGION.

A.D. 1S03-I660.

SUt«ot tberelitjiouioonUst in Britain at the pment period— Its coDoectioa with ths Scottish KeTuniistion—
PrMbjteriwi forin of the Scottiih E«formktion — Earl; origin of tlia Pnabyterian slaicsnt in Scotland-— Early
inolination of Jamei VI. to Epiacapaof—Ramanitruicw ot the cleig; against hii aggnoioni on the oburch —
Andraw HalvU oitad bafars ths privy ooaucil— Hii rgfnial of tbs juilgment of a oivil caart iu ecclewaatical
aflain — AoUof 1684 subversivg of tlie liberty of Cbe ohurch— The "Raid of Ruthven" — Temporary rsconcilia-
tionof Juneg oibh tha sliurch—Hia declarattonii and conceuiona in ita favour— Hia diililce to I'reebyl«rianiBin
reuanred «itb liii proapacta of acceiaiaD to the throne of England— Hia favaur for Papieta — Uopntation of
miniitara aant tn rwaoaiitrata with biiu on the Bubjeot — Bold addnsa of Andrew Maliil to him on the oocaaion
— Meaaurea of the alergy to protect the rightaof the ohnrch — Attampta of Jamaa to raatrun tha liberty of the
pulpit — Trial of DaTJd Black — Riot in Ediubncgh on the I7th of Daoamber — James embraoeg this oppocianity
to impoae Epiaoopaoy on tha cburob— Uii maaaurea to that effect — Cootraat between tha Soottiah and the
Engiiah Raforniation— Predominanca in the latter of tha royal aatharity— Uaaarabical ohkracter of the £n^-
lith church — Origin of Eugliah Purltaniam aimultaueoui with the Refonnitiun — Ohjaationa of early Knglieli
Iteformeni to the rltaa and oeremoniee retained from the Romlib church — Paritaiiiun during the reign of
Elinbeth — Ita growth auJ political influance— Propoasla of the Foritana far tha abrogation of oaitain ohureh
fi.niu and caremoiiia— The ohanga of the church to Puritaniain narrowly defaated—Eliubeth't reaolutioii to
compel nnifomiity — Scans at Lambeth illoittativs of thia compulnon — Puritaniim atrengthaaed bj oppo-
dtian — It* objaotioni extended from the forms to tlis coiutittition of the ohnrch — Commencemant of Puritan
aacaisioD from tha cborcli — Ita prnpoaed Book of DiscipJine— Riae of Freafaytarians, Browuiati, FamiliatF,
and Aaabaptirta— Griudal and Whitgift, Archhiahopi of Canterbury— Their diflsrent adiuinietration— Ac-
cooDt of Wliittitt— Hia atrict and aavcre nieaaureato produce confonnity — Aooeeaiou of Jamea to the throne
of England— Hopea nf Churchman and Puritaua at hia arriTal- Tlie "iniUanary petition" of the Puritan*— Ita
propoaala- The Hampton Court controvaray^ — Conduct of Jamea on the ocoaaion — Hia ungular ipeeahaa —
Propoial adopted for a uaw tranalatiou of the Bible — Aecompliihment of the work— Xew Book of Canoas to
comp^ the Pmitana to conforui to the church— Account of the "Pilgrim Fathata" — Their emigration to Kew
England — Their fonndation of the United Stateaof America— Jam sa'i Eoot of Sporit — Hia anactoieata for
ailencing the Puritan pulpita — Change of hia own creed from Calviniam to Aiminianiam — Dark proapecta of
the Furitauiat theaccaauou of Cliarlei I.— Fopiah tendencies of bit prelatea — Attempt of Charlee to overtb row
the Praabyterianiiiu of Scotland— The Scottibh reactioa— Engllih Puritaniain rouasd by the eiample— Ueeting
of the Weetmiuater Anembly of Divinv— Epiacopacy orertbroan and PrabyteriaDiim satabliabed In England
— UiSeranca between the Scottiih and Eugliitb Preabyterianlam — Cauaee of that differeuee — Stale of partite in
the Weatniluitar Anembljr— Fraebyteriau*, ladepeuilanla, and Eraatiau*— Chief proceedinga of the aaaembly
—III Direotery, C^nfcHlon of Faith, and Catecbiama- Debatea on the Divine right of Freabytery, and tolera-
tion—Tolerattou aatablialwd— Riie of Independeucy over Preabytorianiam— (.'wuae ot tbii ri«>— Cromweil'i
"Board of Triem"— Its beneScial services to reii^ioD- Engliah lectariea.

I HE religious history of the present betb, and supported by authoritative statutes
])eriod is tJiiefly the nan-ative of and rich endowmenta— and a strong popular re-
a deadly struggle between the Pu- ligious element, whose moUo was liberty rf con-
ritanism of England on the one i science, and whose aim waa the emanoipntion of
hand, and the Episcopal polity on 1 the church, alike from kingly dictation and par-
„_j_,_._^^ the other; between the national I liamentaiy rule. It was, for the time, the prw
church aa fonuuhited by Henry VIII. and Eliza- t siding spirit of that great political struggle iu

,v Google

600

HISTOKY OP ENGLAND.

[Rkuoior.

which the last remainiDg bonda of feudaliam were
to be throvn off, and the nation at large advanced
into A more perfect state of liberty, both civil
and relifpoua. To imderataad the controversy
aright, however, it in necesaaiy to revert to tht
Scottish Befonnation, from which English Pu-
ritaniain derived an importaat element of ita
strength, and to the Scottish Freabyterianiam,
which BO opportunely turned the scale, when the
conflict had commenced, and when the issue
still uncertain.

In oont«mptating the Scottish Reformation at
ita outaet, we find it resolving itself into the
great question of religious and politic&l emanci'
pation, without reference to the particular form
of chnrch polity in which it was to be embodied.
The recovery of England back to Rome was the
great aim of the Catholic powers upon the Con-
tinent, and as this could only be accomplished by
force of arms, England, it whs found, could be
most effectually assailed through the sister king-
dom, and with the aid of its warlike population.
But all this implied a previous subjugation, to
which the Scots, of all peo;>le, were least likely
to submit! and they would neither consent to
turn their country into a battle-field, nor them-
selves iuto passive I'ecruits of France or Spain,
let the Papal conclave decree as it might. In this
way, the question at the outset with Scotland was,
Protestant or Papist ? and this was shown by the
readiness with which John Knox suggested, and
the Reformers sought, the aid of England, in
clearing their (Muntry from Fi'ench usurpation.
Let the troops of France be but expelled, and
the country freed from every alliance with those
great powers which were banded for the destmc-
tion of their common Protestantism, and the par-
ticular form which the new national church was
to assume would be speedily determined by the
feelings of the people. What, in the meantime,
was i^iefly needed, was a cleared and levelled
ground on which to erect it We know with
what alacrity the choice was made. It had in
fiwt been already decided by the religious train-
ing of the nation through a long course of ages.
The earliest Christian church in Scotland had
been the church of the Culdees, that simple anti-
monarchical form where the permanent dominion
of one priest over his bretliren could obtain no
place; and even when the Papal church was fin-
ally established, it sUll retained the original re-
publican character, by ita resistance to the rule
of the Popedom, and its rejection of primnten,
whether native or Euglish. Thin long cherished
ecclesiastical parity,aod dislike of individual do-
mination, made the choice of Presbyterian ism a
natural and national result. The Church of Scot-
land was to he a thoocmoy independent of seen-
Imt rule, in which the ministers were to be no-

thing more than Uie equals of each other, while
Christ alone was to be the recognized Head aiH)
King. But how snch a republicsu goveniment
in the church would reconcile itself to mmuwdij
in the state, at a period when the monarchic
principle was aiming at sntire ahaolutism, was
now the question at issue. We have already seen
the commencement of the Oial under the Soot-
tish regency, when the Ear! of Morton ruled with
del^ated authority. We have now to trace its
continuation under the reign of James, and its
t«rrible decision under that of his unfortunate

No sooner had tbe young king, James VI.,
assumed the reins of government, than the prt>-
specta of the Scottish church began to be clouded.
Even already, he showed that imraodet«te par-
tiality for favourites which di^raced his royal
administration to the close; and at the outaet, his
bosom friends and counsellors were D'Aubigny,
Earl and afterwards Duke of Lennoi, and Cap-
tain Stuart, afterwards Earl of Artan — the foi^
mer notoriously a Papist, and adherent of the
Guise faction in Prance; the latter a worthless
intriguer and profligate, to whom all religions
were equally indifferent. Under such counsel-
lors, James was not likely to acquire much love
either for the stem self-denying syatom of Prea-
byterianism, or the ministers by iriiDm it was
represented. But fi-om the state of public feeling
he learned the necessity of wariness, and in this
way he commenced, even in boyhood, those prac-
tices of prevarication and deception which he af-
terwards dignified with the name of kingciafL
And yet, even already he could not coutrol his
Episcopal leanings, as was manifested in the case
of the archbishopric of Glasgow. This see hav-
ing become vacant in 1S81, a grant was made of
its revenues by the privy council to the Earl of
Lennoc; but as the latter, being a layman, could
not draw them in his own name, he resolved to
effoct it by means of a ttdehan, or bishop of
straw. He accordingly procured Robert Mont-
gomery, a minister of Stirling, to assume that
degrading oflice. This violation of a reoent de-
cree alarmed the church, and the General Assem-
bly denounced the appointment as illegal, upon
wliich the king, espousing the cause of his favour-
ite, Lennox, required the assembly to desist from
their proceedings against Moutgomery, who was
already menactid with excommunication. But
although denounced with the penalties of rebel-
lion if they refmMd, the ecclesiastical court per-
BJated in the prosecution, until Robert Montgo-
mery himself, quelled into submission, humbly
confessed his fault before the house, promised to
renounce the bishopric, and craved to he forgiven.
His punishment accordingly was delayed; but,
instig«t«d by Lennox, he revived once taot* his

»Google

A.D. 1603—1060.]

HISTORY OF REUGION.

601

claim, and endeavoured to mate it good at the
Iieaii of an armed band, with which he forciblj
invaded the preahytery of Glasgow, inaultod ita
membera, aud drugged the moderator to prison.
The church on thia excommunicated the offender,
bat the privy council proclaimed the sentence
nail and void. Thus the civil and eccl««iaatical
powers were brought into such antagonism, that
one of the partiea ninat give way. But feeling
that not only ita righta were violated, hut that
its vei7 existence was at stake, the church perse-
vered in the perilous encounter, and a deputa-
tion of ministera, with Andrew Uelvil at their
head, repaired to the king at Perth, to present a
remonatrance of tha General Assembly against
these tyrannical proceedings. As their mission
was so odious to the royal favourites and cour-
tiers, apprehensions had been entertained that the
ministers might lose their lives in the attempt;
and in Scotland, at such a. season, sn angry out-
break of thia nature would neither have been an
impossible nor unlikely occurrence. On present-
ing the remonstrance before the king in council,
the fierce Earl of Atran exclaimed with a threat-
ening tone, " Who dares subscribe these trea-
sonable articleaf' "We dare," replied Andrew
Melvil cftlmly, and taking the pen from the clerk,
he subscribed the paper, and was immediately
followed by hia brethren. Lennox and Arran
were daunted, and allowed the ministers to de-
part in peace. But the despotism of these fav-
ourites still coutinning, produced that combina-
tion among the nobles known in the history of
the times by the name of the " Raid of Rathven,'
in which the king was closely warded, and tha
favourite* banished from the royal presence. On
■^covering his liberty, James recalled Arran, and
renewed his attempts against the church, the
chief offender in which, according to royal reck'
oning, was Andrew Melvil, who, in the beginning
of February, 1684, was summoned to answer be-
fore the privy council for certain treasonable sen-
timents which he was alleged to have utter«d in
his sermon upon the fast day. He appeared, and
rehearsed the words he had uttered in the pulpit.
But this not satisfying the council, he was som-
moned a second time; npon which he drew np a
protest agunst their proceedings, and declined
their authority, declaring, that as the charges
agsinst him were wholly ecclesiastical, being about
words alleged to have been uttered in preaching,
he ought therefore in the first instance to be tried
by the ecclesiastical courts, who ver« the proper
and cunstituted judges of any such clerical of-
fence. On giving in this declinature, the king
and Arran were furions, but Uelvil told them
that they were too bold to pass by, in a consti-
tuted Christian kirk, its putors, prophets, and
doctors, and take npon them to judge the doe-
Voi. IT.

trine and control the ambassadors and messen-
gers of a greater than waa here. "That you may
see your own weakness and rashness,' he added,
" in taking npon yon that which you neither
ought nor can do, there are my instructions and
warrant" — and with that, he loosed a little He-
brew Bible from hia girdle, and laid it on the
table before them. Arran opened the book, gazed
upon it in hopeless ignorance, and handing it to
the king, said, "Sir, he scorns your majesty and
the coundL" "Kay, I acorn not," replied Mel-
vil, "but am in good earnest" For hia refusal
to be tried, in the first instance, upon a question
of doctrine before the king and council, and tor
what was accounted hia unreverent behaviour,
he waa sentenced to imprisonment in the castle of
Edinbu^h during the royal pleasure; but know-
ing that this place was to be changed for Black-
ness Castle, of which Arran was the keeper, he
took the opportunity of a short interval that was
allowed him, and escaped in safety to Berwick.

The flight of thia bold champion of the indepen-
ilence of the church emboldened the king and his
courtiers to more daring deeds of oppression ; and
a series of acts were passed by the parliament,
which were known in the country as the '^Black
Acts of 1S84.' Although gently expressed, their
purport was sufficiently despotic, and subversive
of the liberties of the chui-ch; for they made the
declinature of the king's or council's authority
in any case to be treason, restricted public meet-
ings in such terms as to suppress all freedom of
discussion in presbyt^es, synods, and genemi
assemblies, and invested the bishops with full
authority over ecclesiastical matters in their re-
spective dioceses, Hiese enactments suiEciently
announced the abrogation of the national Pres-
byterian church by royal authority, and the es-
tablishment of Episcopacy in ita stead. In con-
sequence of these oppressive measures, twenty of
the boldest and most conscientious of the minis-
ters were compelled to' escape to England, while
those who remained were either so shackled by
restrictions that all freedom of action was sus-
pended, or obliged to maintain an unequal con-
flict against the restored Episoopacy backed by
the king, his favourite, and the privy council,
and in the face of parliamentary prohibitiona and
penalties. In such circumstances, a reaction of
the Scottish spirit was inevitable, and it occurred
in the old Scottish fashion. In 156C the ban-
ished lords of the "Bajd of Ruthven," the fugi-
tive ministers, and the self-exiled Scota of every
degree who had removed themselves beyond the
reach of political and religious tyranny, had ga-
thered to a head in Eugland, and finding them-
selves strong enough to make good their entrance
into Scotland, they returned, not ss fugitives and
banished men, but as those who had botii right

»Google

602

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[BSLioioir.

and power to redress the wrongs of their church
aod country. The result was, tMat Arran waa
drivCD iiito obecuritj, and the king obliged to
awunie a more moderate t4iiiei while Episcopacy,
though it could not be abrogated, was reduced
aa before to its place within the verge of Pres-
byt«riaii parity and BuhmisBion — a tDdnction
that was Boon after signalized in the encommuni-
oation of Patrick Adamaon, Archbishop of St
Andrews, hy the synod of Fife. Although all
this was much, yet it ftill short of the mark, as
the order of bishops was still tolerated, and might
at any future period be restored to its wonted
pre -eminence. Indeed, it was »ooQ found that
the patriotic lords, at their return, were more in-
tent in settling their own private quarrels, and
securing their personal interesta, than in caring
for the righte of the church, or advancing ila

The great public political events that followed
were of a nature to reconcile James to tiie na-
tional church, or at least compel him to a show
of amity. The Popish continental league, which
hod (or its object the restoration of Mary Stuart
to her throne, and the conquest of Frotoatant
Eiiglnnil by the subjugation of Scotland, was ma-
tured for action; the Spanish AiTnada was ready
to set sail; and James, who knew that the repo-
sition of his mother would not only uncrown him
in Scotland, but might debar him from the still
more tempting succession of England, was glad
to strengthen hiioself in the Protestant feelings
of his subjects. On this account he was care-
ful not only to avoid all encroachmonte upon
the church, but to propitiate its ministers whom
he had formerly persecuted. Tliis mutual agree-
ment was strikingly manifested in 1590, when he
performed the only adventurous deed of his long
reign, by sailing to Denmark and espousing the
Princess Anne, in spite of the atorma which witch-
craft had raised agaiuBtthe enterprise. Before he
set sail, he entrusted tlie guardianship of the
kingdom iu an especial manner to Robert Bruce,
one of the ministers of Edinburgh, who enjoyed
the chief confidence of his brethren; and, at his
return, was so well pleased at the manner in
which the trust had been dlschai^d, that he de-
clared it worth a "whole quarter of his little
kingdom." Elated, also, iu no ordinary d^ree by
his chivalrous voyage and its sueceas, he gave full
vent to his feelings in a meeting of the G«neral
A Bseinbly which was held in August, three months
after his return. He praised God that he was
bom in such a time aa in the time of the light of
the gospel; to such aplaoeas to be king of such a
kirk, the sincereBt kirk of the world. "The Kirk
of Geneva,' said he, "keepeth Pasch and Yule;
what have thev for themi They have no inati-
lution. As for our neigfaboar kirk in EngUnd,

their service is an evil said mase iu£!ngliah; they
want nothing of the mass but the liftings. I
charge you, my good people, miniat«n, doctors,
elders, nobles, gentlemen, and barons, to stand to
your purity, and to exhort your people to do the
same; and I, forsooth, so long as I bruik my life
and crown, ahall maintain the same agwust all
deadly." There was nothing heard for a qnarter
of an hour but praising God, and praying for the
king. It was a striking scene, as well aa the
manifeatation of an unwonted mood on the part
of the royal speaker. Nor was the feeling m
evanescent as might have bean expected, as, two
years afterwards, James conceded more liberally
to the demands of the Scottish church than he
had hitherto done. While the harmony between
the civil and eocleuastical powers was as yet
unio tempted, the General Assembly, in 159^
drew np a full list of their requirements, which
the king received and favourably answereil; and
though all was not granted which had been asked,
the conceaMons were so ample that they consti-
tuted then, as afterwards, the Magna Charts of
the Church of Scotland. They were passed in ]«r-
liaraent assembled for the purpose, which ratiiied
and approved "all liberties, privileges, immuni-
ties, and freedoms whatsoever given and granted
by his highness, hia regente in his name, or any
of his [iredeoessore, to the true and holy kirk pre-
sently established within this realm, and declared
in the first act of hia highnese's parliament, the
twentydayof October,theyearofGod I979yearH.'
By these enactments, it may be stated in general
terms, that the right of general assemblies, synods,
and presbyteries to hold their meetings was rp-
oagnieed, and that their discipline and jurisdic-
tion was to continue and hold good whateversta-
tutes, acte, and laws might have been made to the
contrary. The i-oyal supremacy was to be in no
wise prejudicial to the righte of the church ofGoe-
bearers concerning heads of religion, matters of
heresy, excommunication, the ai^iotment anil
deprivation of ministers, or the infliction of such
censures as the Word t^ God warranted; and the
commission formerly granted to bishops, and
other judges appointed by the king in the trial of
eoclesjastical oansM, was henceforth to be null
and of no efiect But notwithstanding these eon-
cessions, there were demands still left unsatiaOed,
and wrongs nnredreased, which oould fnmiah am-
ple ground for future controversy and contention
between the civil and eccleuaetical authorities.

As the prospecto of the English suooesBiou were
now continuing to expand aaid become every year
more certain, Jamea endeavoured to aocotnmMlate
hia proceedings to the occasion. He knew that
the Presbytorianism of Scotland, so like the Puri-
tentsm of England, was in the highnt di^ne dir-
tasteful to Elicabeth; and his own likings w«« in

,v Google

A.D. 1003— le

0.J

HISTORY OF REUGION.

(aTOur of Epiacopocj, which ackoowledged the
kingl; rule in ecdesUBtical a&ira, and reoofpiizod
the Rorereigu m the head of the ohnrch. These
were motives sutficiently atroag for bis dislike of
the eocloUBstical repnblicuiiam of his own coon-
tr^, and liis derire to coaciliAte the Anglioan
church, in which he hoped at no distant day to
rale as a pontiff. But a more difficult taak which
remained for him was to condltate the Popish
party, still powerful in Scotland and England
through their connection with the continental
powers, and whose concnrrence would be of the
utmost importance in facilitating his admission
to the fiiglish throne. To this purpose, therefore,
he directed all his kingcraft, and with such ef-
fect that the English Papists were more desirous
of having him for their king than even the Pro-
testants; but in securing this future contingency,
he almost lost tha present reality, for his Scottish
subjects, alarmed at his tamperings with Fopery,
b^pm to suspect that, if not a Papist in heart, he
was at least compronusing the safety of their
church, and the cause of the Reformation itself,
by his concessions to their irreconcilable enemies.
At last, in 1S96, when the dread of a Spanish iii-
vasiou of Scotland was at the height, tha banidied
Popish lords secretly returned to Scotland, and
were about to be reetored to place and power.
Alarmed at this ominous movement, a deputation
from the church was sent to the king, with James
Melvil for their spokesman, as it was thought
tliat his courteous speech and mild demeanour
were best suited for a transaction of this kind with
royalty. The interview took place at Falkland;
but no sooner had the minister announced the
purport of their arrival, and the proceedings of
the clerical court by which they had been com-
missioned, than tha king angrily charged that
meeting with being ee^tioua, declared that it had
been alarmed without cause, and accused them of
stirring up alarm in the country when none was
needed. James Helvil was about to return a soft
answer; but Andrew Melvil, his uucle, fearing,
perhaps, that the purpose of the mission wonid
be loet by too much forbearauee, and kindled at
the king's charge of sedition against the brethren,
broke in abruptly upon the conference. Taking
the king by the sleeve, and sddrsesuig him with
the epithet of "God's silly vassal," he thnndared
in his ean to the following effect :—" Sir, we will
humbly reverence your majesty always, namely,
in public; but we have this occasion to be with
your majesty in private, and yon are brought
into extreme danger both of your life and of your
crown, and with yon, the country and kirk of
Ood is like to bewrecked for not telling the tmtb,
and giving you a fMthful counsel. We must dis-
charge our duty, or else be enemies to Christ and
jou; th«r«fore, sir, as divers times before,BO now

I must tell you that there are two kings and two
kingdoms. There is Christ and his kingdom the
kirk, whose subject King James the Sixth is, and
of whose kingdom he is not a king, nor a head,
nor a lord, but a member; and they whom Christ
hath called and commanded tA watch over his
kirk, and govern his spiritual kingdom, have suffi-
cient authority and power from him so to do,
which no Christiaa king nor prince should con-
trol nor discharge, but fortify and assist, other-
wise they are not faithful aubjecta to Chriet. Sir,
whan you were in your swaddling clonts, Christ
reigned freely in this land in spite of all his ene-
mies. His officers and ministers convened ftod
assembled for ruling of his kirk, whioh was ever
for your welfare, also when the siune enemies were
seeking your destruction ; and have been, by their
assemblies and meetings since, terrible to these
enemies, and most steadable for you. Will you
now, when there is more tiian necessity, challenge
Christ's servants, your best and most faithful
subjects, for their convening, and for the care
they have of their duty to Ctirist and you, when
yon should rather commend and countenance
them, as the godly kings and emperors didl The
wisdom of your counsel, which is devilish and
pernicious, Is this — that you ma; be served with
all sorts of men to come to your purpose and
grandeur, Jewand Gentile, Papist and Protestant
Because the ministers and Protestants in Scotland
are too strong, and control the king, they must be
weakened and brought low by stirring up a party
agtunst them, and the king, being equal and in-
different, both shall be fain to fiee to bim ; no shall
be be well settled. But, sir, let God's wisdom be
the only true wisdom: this will prove mere and
mad folly; for his curse cannot bqt light upon
it, so that in seeking both you shall lose both;
whereas, in cleaving uprightly to God, his true
servants shall be your true friends, and he shall
compel the rest, counterfeitly and lyingly, to serve
yon, SB he did to David." We can imagine with
what feeling Elizabeth or her fother would have
listened to snch sentiments, and enforced in such
a fashion; but the arguments were nothing more
than the legitimate consequences of an ecclesias-
tical polity which James himself had recogniEed;
and Bs for the blunt mode in which his attention
had been solicited, it was too much in accordance
with the simple fashions of a Scottish conrt to
excite either wonder or alarm. While Elizabeth,
therefore, would have called for her guards, or
Henry VIIL shouted for the executioner, James
only listened quietly, as to an expected lesson,
although this was but a part of the barangue,aud
"dumitted them pleasantly,' declaring his ignor-
ance of the return of the Popish lords. All this
eourte^, however, on the 7>art of the king was
but am empty show, for the Popish lords were t^

,v Google

60 (

HI8T0EY OF ENGLAND.

[BKUaiOlr.

lowed to remain uDinolested, and the proceediagB
still went on for their reioBtatement.

Alarmed at these continuing s;inptoms, ajid
dreading the growing favour of Popery in high
places, the charch proceeded to more decisive
meBBures ; and for this purpose thej appointed
certain miniBters from the different presbyteries
to repair lo the capital, and form, with the pres-
hytery of Edinburgh, a standing council of the
church, for the purpose of watching public events,
and providing for coming emergencies. It was
both a wise and a necessary expedient for a rude
age of sudden transitions, and unprincipled plots
and conapiracies, in which the welfare of the
church was unscmpulouBly sacrificed. A deputar
tion of four ministers was also sent to the king,
to lay before him the complaints of the church
and crave redress; to whom he replied that there
could be no agreement between him and the mi-
nisters till "the marches of their jurisdictions
wererid." He also complained that the ministem
themselves gave him occasion to speak of them,
never ceasing in theit' sermons to provoke him,
and to disgrace him before the people. To this
they replied that "the free preaching of the Word,
and rebuke of ain in whatsoever person without
respect, and discipline joined therewith, were es-
tablished, after many conferences, upon evident
grounds of the Word, by his majesty's laws and
acta of parliament, and many years' practice and
use passed thereupon.* It may be here remarked,
that ia an age when the only source of public in-
telligence nan the pulpit, and when the conse-
qnent duty of a minister of religion wsa " to
preach to the times,' it was necessary to intro-
duce subjects which now belong exclusively to the
press; and that to extinguish this right
tamounttothe modem political offence of closing
thepufalicprintiog-ofiicea and arresting their jour-
nalists— a violation of national righta that would
be thought enough to justify a national rebellion.
The spirit of general iuquiiy awoke by the Be-
formation was still groping its way in advance,
and conld only establish a new order of things
by trial and esperinieut, and these ministeiB, with
all their freedom of speech upon public events,
were the only joitmalists of the day. It was not
wonderful, therefore, that James, who had often
winced under their animadversions upon his per-
sonal vices, as well as been annoyed by their
watchfulness of his public proceedings, and hos-
tility to his despotic purposes, ahonid have re-
garded the liberty of the pulpit with that amount
of royal hatred which, in modem times, has been
tnuisferred to the liberty of the press, and exer-
cise of public judgment.

An opportunity was even now at hand for
bringing this important question to the issue of
ft public (rial. Mr. David Black, minister of St

Andrews, was aconaed of having employed cer-
tain reprehenaible expreasiona in his sermona;
and for this offence he was summoned to answer
before the privy counciL The cliaiges against
him were, that he had affirmed the return of the
Popish ittrda to have been made witJi his ma-
jesty's knowledge, and upon fais asaumuce, and
tiiat in this case the king had discovered the
treachery of his heart He had called all kings
the " the devil's baims," and added that the devil
~ie court, and in the guiders of it. lu
his prayer for the queen he had used tfaeae
frds — " We must pray for her for the fashion,
t we have no cause ; she will never do as good."
He had called the Queen of England ao atheist
He had discussed in the pulpit a auspenaioa
granted by the Lords of Session, and called them
miscreants and bribers. In speaking of the no-
bility, he said they were degenerate, godieas, dis-
semblers, and enemies to the church; and in
mentioning the council he had called them bowle-
glasses, cormorants, and men of no religion.
Such were the expreesions he was charged with
using in hia sermons, if we may believe the tes-
timony of an historian who, at this period, was
alleged to have been trimming between bis cleri-
cal brethren and the court, and betraying the
former to the latter,' But the most startling
chaige of all was the concluding one, which
might suffice to make all the rest oncertain, or
positively worthless. It was that the said David
Black "had convocated divers noblemen, barons,
and others, within St Andrews, in the month of
June, 1G94, caused them take arms and divide
themselves in troops of horse and foot, and had
thereby usurped the power of the king and civil
magistrate." It is, ungnlar that this phantom
array waa never beard of till now, and that
it was suffered lo vanish 40 lightly from the ac-
cusation, while the alleged words were laid hold
of and keptaseubetantial evidences. Perceiving
that the purpose of these charges was to suppress
the liberty of preaching in all time to come, the
commission of the clergy in Edinbnrgh advised
Black to decline the judgment of the privy coun-
cil, in the first instance, as a eonrt incompetent
to decide; and his declinature, which he gave in
accordingly, was backed by the signatures of 300
ministers. It was no longer a private and indi-
vidual charge, but a great public contest between
the civil and ecclesiastical authorities, and a con-
test in which the former were certain to prevail,
at least at the outasL Black t

"Xonaio dlllgmt In

wudi BUiop at 8t- Aqdrswm ; uid t

t i> comtutlr np«tod, ha inftiniiHl or ■mt In U» klD|> bf ■

<xitirtl«. inftmutiim of ftll the pRX»dli«i oT U» SBUHl of Uh

,v Google

HISTOKY OF REUOION.

605

guittj, Bud Heutenced to copfinement beyoud the
Tajr oDtil the luDg aboulil decide npon his further
punishment. But this was nothing compared
with whftt followed. Thepowera of thecommia-
Honera of the assemblj were declared to be il'
legal, and the commisaioDerB themaelvea were
ordered to leave Edinburgh; the rniuiaCera, by «
decree of council, were reqaired, before receiv-
ing paymeut of their Htipenda, to subecribe a
bond in which they promieed to submit to the
judgment of the king and privy council aa often
as they were accused of preachiug treasonable or
sediUous doctrine; and iJl magiatrates of borghs,
and noblemen and gentlemen in oountry parishes,
were commanded and empowered to interrupt
ouch language as often as they heard it from the
pulpit, and imprison those who uttered it.

After this event, the famous riot of the 17th
of December occurred, a riot originating in the
ProtesUnt dread of a Popish massacre in Ediu-
buif^h, at a time when the popular mind was
kept in a constant state of atarm, and which the
favour shown by James to the Popish nobles was
little calculated to allay. But insignificant and
momentary though it was in itself, and unaccom-
panied with injury either to life or property, it
was an opportunity too favourable for the designs
of the king to be allowed to pass unpunished. It
iraa therefore magnified into a daring act of rebel-
lion and treason on the part of the people, headed
by their ministers, for which no penalty could be
too severe; and Jamea talked loftily of razing
the city to the ground, and erecting a monument
on the place where it stood. By such threats
the people were detached from the clergy, and
the latter left unprotected to royal vengeance and
persecution. And here the kingcraft of James
found full scope for its exercise. The ministers
of ^nburgh were obUged to withdraw from the
capital The members of the Oeueral Assembly
were so succeMfully allured or terrified, that a
majority was won over to assent to the king's
proposals, which had the subversion of the liber-
ties of the church for their object In this way
he was enabled to have a committee chosen from
among his own clerical. adherents for the manage-
ment of ecclesiastical affairs, through whom he
could control the proceedings of the church
courts. His next step was to overthrow the
principle of Presbyterian parity, and thus pre-
pare the church for Episcopal rule; and this he
effected by proposing that the national represen-
tation should be completed by the re-admission of
a" Third Estate' into parUament — men who held
the clerical office, and should be the guardians
and representatives of the intereats of the church.
Ovmawed by the king and persuaded by his ad-
vocates, the General Assembly, by a scanty mtr
jotity at t«n, assented to the change; and it was

I^Teed that fifty-one ministers, corresponding to
the number of bishops, abbota, and priors, who
had {(nmerly sat in the Scottish parliament,
should now assume their places as representai-
tives. Even then, however, independently of the
craft and double-dealing with which the measure
was insinuated and finally carried through the
protests and opposition of the assembly, it would
have been defeated, but for the care that had
been taken to divest it of its more r^ulsive fea-
tures. By this third estate, it was announced,
the church would have an equal voice in the go-
vernment, and be able to communicate directly
both with king and council, instead of coming to
their doors as a humble suppliant; while its
members, instead of holding the bated name of
"bishops," as it was now understood, were only
to have the title of Comnjssioners of the Church
in parliament. Several restrictions were added,
by which these commissioners were to be deften-
deut for their election upon the General Assem-
bly, and subject, in their proeeedings, to its au-
thority; they were to continue their pastoral
duties like the other ministers, and, like them, to
be amenable to the authority of their own pres-
bytery and synod. These, and other "caveats,"
were specified, to allay the apprehensions of the
church at large, and were solemnly ratified by
act of parliament, although they were nothing
more, from the beginning, than fallacious pro-
misee. This we are assured from Spotswood
himself, who tells us that it "was neither th.6
king's intention, nor the minds of the wiser sort,
to have these cautions stand in force; but to
have matters peaceably ended, and the reforma-
tion of the policy made without any noise, the
king gave way to these conceits." Thus, the
substance at least of Episcopacy being introduced
into the Scottish church, the shadow was certain
in its course to follow. Well might Davidson,
one of the aged fathers of the Beformation, ex-
claim of this new parliamentary representation,
" Busk, busk, busk him as bonnilie as ye can, and
fetch him in as fairly as ye will, we see him weel
eneuoh; we see the horns of his mitre!"

During the short period of James's stay in
Bcotland after these transactions, his efforts were
directed to the full establishment of his ascend-
ency over the churoh, for the purpose of finally
subjecting it to Episcopal rule, and bringing it
into conformity with that of England. With the
concurrence of the commisaloaers be filled up the
vacant bishopries of Boss, Aberdeen, and C^lh-
neas, and in like manner would have attempted
to fill np the other Episcopal charges, if the di~

»Google

COS

UISTOIIY OP ENGLAND.

[Rkuoiom.

lapidated churuh revenues could hare bees re-
called for the purpoM. InstoBd of announcing,
at the dose of each Oeneral Auemblj, th« time
and place of meeting for the next, he appointed
them when aad where he pleaded by proclanui-
ttoD at the market crossee; and by this abrupt
and unceremonious mode of convening it, he en-
deavoured to wake the doty of meeting oppres-
aive to the members, as well aa to desecrate the
iuatitntion in the eyes of the p^ple. Even when
the assembly did meet under such humiliating
circumBtances, James was enabled to control ita
proceediugs through the commission, which ha
hod made so subservient to bis purposes that it
was called the "led horve' of the king. To this
state was the Scottish church reduced when
James, h^ the death of Elizabeth, succeeded to
the throne of England. Wliatever may have been
the national exultation on the subject, the stanch
friends of Scottish Presbyteriaulsm could not
help r^arding it with anxious foreboding. Whan
almost Mugle-handed, he bad effected so much
by mere craft and cunning, what mi(^t he not
attempt or effect with the whole weight of Eng-
land to aid himl It was too far-seeing to sur-
mise, at so early a period, that the national apirit
would thereby be only efCectually roused into
jealous activity, and that a bold and successful
reaction would be the result.

While the Scottish Reformation had thus been
nndergoing such a atru^le, and establishing a
polity that was dialasteful to the civil power, the
history of English Protestantism was widely dif-
ferent. At the head of the movement, in the
first instance, was a despotic sovereign; and al-
though it was his interest to break loose from
the dominion of Bome, be was little disposed to
carry the change much farther. It was a politi-
cal rather than a religious reformation in the
churcb, that formed the mark of bis ambition;
and when the Papal yoke was wholly thrown off,
he was willing that there the movement should
stop short, or, at leaat, proceed according to his
own dictation. Such also was the leading prin-
dple of Elizabeth during her long and vigoroos
reign, and which her suocesses enabled her to
carry into effecL Hence the monarchical go-
vernment of the English church, with the king
for its head and prelates for its ruling ofllce-
bearers; and hence, also, the pomps and formal-
ities which were aa esaential for the kingly rule
as that of the pope. All this was in marlced con-
trast to the republicanism of the Scottish Bef orm-
ation, which originated in the people, and had
the powers f>f the state, not for its leaders, but
its antagoniata.

It was impossible, however, that a whole na-
tion, and nicb a nation as England, would be
eont«nt«d to formulat« its creed and titaal en-

tirely according to royal dictAtion; and, coeval
with tlie commencement of this great event, thei«
were many whose wishes had outstripped the
mark of royalty. These were, properly, the
Puritans of England, when as yet the name was
unknown; and from the innate tendency oi the
human mind, when fully emancipated, to hold
onward in its new course — from the example of
other Protvstant oountries — and from the con-
nection formed between the foreign leading Se-
formers and those of England — the gtnn of Eng-
lish Puritanism was certain to sbvugthen and
shoot upward, in spite of the opposition that
awaited it. Thus questions were agitated and
doubts entertained, even among the fathers of
the new English church, regarding the propriety
of retaining these ancient forms; and while one
party advocated them on the plea that the people
would " oome easily into the more real changes
that were made in the doctrines, when they saw
the outward appearance so little altered," it was
alleged, on the other hand, "that this still kept
up the incHuation in the people to the former
practices." Thus, Latimer laid a3ide,aiidIlooper
refused to assnma, tlie Episcopal vestments. Bid-
ley directed the altar to be changed after the
" form of an honeat t*ble decently covered."' In
King Edward's time the surplice was neither
universally used nor pressed upon the clergy.
Later still. Archbishop Parker administered the
Lord's Supper to persons standing, in the cathe-
dral church at Canterbury, and there the practice
continaed until I6DS. The persecution of Haty
also, which drove so many Protestants to the
Continent, tended greatly to the increase of Pn-
ritanism, aa these exiles, on thai return, bronght
along with them the doctrines they had learned,
and tlie forms they had practised, in the churchea
of Switzerland, France, and Geneva, Even tJiia
persecution, also, which at home allured so many
from their half- Protestantism back to the faith
of Rome, only strengthened the growing Puri-
tanism, and confirmed the f^th of its adherents,
from the distinct antagonism of their creed, and
the firm decision which its adoption bad r«quired.
On the acceaiion of Elizabeth, and the re-es-
tablishment of Protestantism in EngUnd, the
change that so efiectually blasted the hopes of
the Catholica brought little favour to the Puii-
tana For while the oath of snjMwntacy effeotu-
ally excluded the former, the act of both Houses
of Parliament, for the uniformity of common
prayer and service in the church, and adminis-
tration of the sacraments, bore hard upon th*
latter. Tliis was the more confirmed, from tbe
revision that bad been made of the litorgr of
King Edward, and the alterations that had been

iEuratVimitrfi^lluJl^f<iniuUlim,TiA ilL p. MS.

,v Google

A.D. 1603—1660.]

HISTOKY OF RELIGION.

607

iatroduoed to make the sen-ice more aoceptable
to th« Finish pftrty, and also from the ieatar*r
tion of the Court of High CommiasioD, with its
ample authoritj to " visit, reform, redren, order,
correct, uid amend all erron, heresies, Bahiams,
abuses, coutempts, offences, and snormilies what-
Bo«ver.'' The Puritana, indeed, made no scruple
about the oath of supremacj, aa it excluded the
jurisdiction of the pope; but the outward tutbita
audforma they rejected, as vestiges of the ancient
superstition. lu this, also, they were not singu-
lar, as not a few of the bishops sympathized in
their dislike, and would have gone wholly along
with them, but fortheirfearoftheqneen. While
Puritan principles were thoa strong among the
rulers of the church, they had their friends and
protectors in the queen's couucil, Buch as Leices-
ter, Wataing^iani, Lord-keeper Bacon, Bedford,
Warwick, Huntingdon, Sadler, and Knollya.' The
wiahes, however, as well as the strength and influ-
ence of the Puritan parly at this period, were dis-
tinctly manifested at the convocation held in St.
Paul's, A.D. 1562, when a paper, subscribed by
thirty-three membera of the lower house, pro-
posed the following changes : viz., the disuse of
lay baptism and the sign of the cross; the substi-
tution of reading or singing the psalms for chant-
ing; kneeling at the Lord's Supper to be left to
the discretion of the ordinary; the laying aside
of copes and surplices, and the same habit to be
worn in the desk and in the pulpit; the ceuaure on
nonconformity to be made more gentle; all festi-
vals, except Sundays and the principal fenste, to
be abolished; and the minieter to turn his face to
the people in common prayer. After a long and
keen dispata^n, forty-tluwe of the cleigy who
were preaent voted in favour of the changes,
while only tbirty-tive were against them. Bat
for the first party there were not more than fif-
teen proxies, while there were twenty-four for
the latter; and thus the continuanc« of the Book
of Common Prayer, in an unaltered state, was
carried by only a majority of one. It was a moat
important event in the history of Puritanism.'
The queen's influence alone, and her well-known
resolution to uphold the established order in the
church and enforce uniformity, prevented those
contemplated changes, and postponed them to an
indefinite period. But was the time fitted for
such a revolntionl And has the event been stiU
delayed only for the coming of a better season
and happier opportunity )

Uniformity being thus decreed by a majority
of one vote, was now to be enforced and estab-
lished; and as violence was needed against such

1 SlrTpr'i Partrr, Tal.
' BuR»t^ /M. Kff.. t
Nad*! HOIorr tfllKP*

K weight of oppoution, severe t
notqnred. Among those who were either dis-
graced, or secluded from the church for their
nonconformity at this time, the illnstrions names
occur of Miles Coverdole, Bishop of Exeter iu
the reign of Edward VI., and translator of the
mble; Thomas Sampson, dean of Christ Church,
one of the most learned and pious ecclesiastics of
his age and country; and John Fox, the cele-
brated' maiiyrologist. The more gentle modes
of procuring the compliance of the recusants had
sometimes such atouch of the melodromo^c cha-
racter as would startle the fastidiousness of the
present day. A pageant of this kind was afforded
by the ecclesiastical commissioners at Idmbeth
in 1265. On this occasion, Mr. Bobert Cole, a.
minister of the city, lately a nouconformist, bnt
now reduced to compliance, was dressed out in
fall clerical panoply, and placed as the front
figure in the meeting, while the chancellor of the
Bishop of London thus faatongued the auditory:
— "My masters and the ministers of London, the
council's pleasure is, that ye strictly keep the
unity of apparel, like to this man as you see him
(pointing to Cole); that is, a square cap, a scholar's
gown, priest-like, a tippet, and in the church n
linen surplice; and inviolably obaerve the rubric
of the Common Prayer, and the qoeen's majes-
ty's injunctions, and the Book of Convocation.
Ye that will presently subscribe, write nolo;
those that will not subscribe, write nolo. Be
brief; moke no words I* When some would have
remonstrated, he silenced their objections with,
" Peaoe, peace I Apparitor, call the churches.
Masters, answer presently, under penalty of con-
tempt, and set your names.* The eummoner
then allied first the noneonfonuista of Canter-
bury, then some of the Winchester diocese, and
finally, tlie London ministers, at which abrupt
proceedings mahy of the incumbents were "migh-
tily surprised." All who refused were in the
first inslanoe sequestered, and afterwards several
were deposed and deprived.'

During the first twelve years of the reign of
Elizabeth, the objections of the Puritans were
confined to the forms and ceremonies of the
church; and if a compromise hod been Emnted,
or if even leas repulsive modes of persnaeion
had been adopted, the result might have been a
peaceful uniformity. But persecution only served
to contirm and harden the spirit of opposition,
so that after this period, the Puritans proceeded
ta oppcee not the mere forms, bat the very gov-
emment and constitution of the diurch by which
they were so oppressed and persecuted . It was
natnral that tiiey shonld now look more anxi-
oudy towards the Protestant churches estab<
lished upon the Continent, and contrast the sim-
'BKvk.tlitaiiftlHrMrtlaiu,nl.t.if.il9;6»r]p€!tJlMitaU.

Dintizooov Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[BsuGioir.

plieity of their vorahip with that ritual againat
which tliej rebelled. Nor was the example of
Scotlaad, with its Himpie form of worship and
republicau church government, allowed to psas
nnnotioed. And now commenced those aymp-
toms of absolute separation from the national
church to which thej had hitherto adhered in
the hope of the coming of a better day. The
first of these ominous secessions was in 1567,
when about 100 persons in Loudon met in Plam-
mer's Hall, to worship Ood iu their own fashion,
irrespective of the absolute rule both of queen
and Archbishopof Caaterbury. This commence-
ment was speedily followed by other similar
meetings in private houses, while the proclama-
tions against such conventicles, and the punish-
ments of fiae and ioiprisonment, only multiplied
their number, and more effectually endeared
them to their frequenters. And the prevailing
direction which this tendency was likely to take
was soon mBnifestad at Wandsworth, where a
presbytery was set up, that was followed by other
aimilar establishments throughout the country.
A Book of Disdpline was also drawn up on the
continental Freabyterian model for the govern-
ment of this secession, sulocribed by no fewer
than 600 ministers. By these new regulations
it was proposed, that candidates for ordination
should be approved by a datnt, or association of
ministers ; that the clergy belonging t^ their
community should proceed to omit such parts of
the Liturgy as might be done without danger of
deprivation; that they should subscribe to the
articles relating to the sum of the Christian faith
and the sacraments, but not to the remaining
articles, nor to the Book of Common Prayer;
and that other changes should be observed, so far
as might be consistent with the law of the land,
and the peace of the church . Bat this book was
■eized and bnmed by order of the primate before
it had issued from the press.' But besides these
Presbyterian nonconformists, another sect, called
Brownists, arose, whose hostility to the national
church was of a still more violent and decisive
character. But whether Brownist or Presbyte-
rian, the recusants were equally punished as re-
bels to the queen's majesty and enemies of the
church, while their remonstrances were unheeded
and their scruples despised. One of these men,
a preacher, after having been eleven months in
prison, complained to the ecclesiastical commis-
■ioner of the cruel treatment he and his t>rethren
endured, and all for religion and conacie nee, pro-
testing that he should only play the hypocrite
and dissemble if he went to the church, and
joined in the ordinances as they were there ad-
ministered. The terae, curt reply of the com-
, "Come to the church, and obey

the queen's laws; and be a dissembler, be a hy-
pocrite, or a devil if then wilt!" But diaeent
was not exclusively confined to these two partiea,
for besides them, were the Familista, or Family
of I«ve, and the Anabaptiats, who towards the
close of Elizabeth's reign began to muster a for-
midable array for the religious contests of the
succeeding generation. This Family of Love,
partiy it may be froni their equivocal title, weie
a sect to whom were imputed not only the gross-
est of heresies, but the most flagitious of prac-
tices, so that the secret abominations with which
the early Christians were charged by the hea-
thens, the Albigensea by the Papists of the middle
ages, and the Yezides by the Mussulmans of the
present century, were attributed to them by those
who hated and persecuted them. Bnt notwith-
standing Buch fout and indiscriminate charges
from the common store-house of persecution,
these unfortunate Familists seem to have beeu
nothing worse than mystics and theosophists,
who aimed at an impouibla perfection, and in-
terpreted Scripture by the light of their own
dreams and reveries. As for the Anabaptists,
who had appeared in England during the early
days of LoIlardisTn, and had lately been rein-
forced from the wild sectaries of the some name
iu Germany, the evil reputation of their past
deeds at MUnater still clung to them, and they
were punished under the aasumptiou that every
one bearing the title must he a rebel, heretic,
and hiaaphemer. But they were vigorous plants
that grew by being trode upon, and when the
Civil war commenced, they were able to exact a
terrible retribotion.

These religious eommotio&a that disturbed, and
persecutions that disgraced the close of the reign
of Elizabeth, hod been materially influenced by
the administration of her two last Anbtiishops
of Canterbury, Grindal, the first of these, who
had himself been on eiile for religion during the
rule of Mary, endeavoured to reclaim the Puri-
tans by argument, but had failed ; he even tried
concessions, but these had also failed, as the Pn-
ritana complained that he had conceded too little;
and thus, while his gentleness had only invigo-
rated the diaaentients, it had brought npon him
the reproaches of the queen and the church, by
whom he was disgraced, and all but deposed.
He resigned his charge in 1582, in conaequence
of having become incurably bliud, and was suc-
ceeded by a man of a wholly opposite character.
Thia was Whitgift, Bishop of Worcester, and
vice-president of the miu-ches of Wales, who had
been raised to these dignities for his keen and
able writings against the Puritans. The queen,
indeed, had repeatedly offered to make him lord-
chancellor; but now she made him Primate of all

> 9u;|n'i AtmaU, Iv.; t[<p«nilil, Ka. Bl

»Google

>. 1603—16611.]

HISTORY or REUGION.

Eiigluid, M $. ruler of the cbureh by whom her
wishea for a complete conformity would be full]'
carried oat He was, indeed, Buch An Archbishop
of Canterbury as England had never yet enjoyed
the like — one who combined the grandeur and
|K>mpoi]i display of Wolsey, with the military
apirit of theprelftte-princeaof the Crusadeti. For,
na we are told by hia admiring biographer, he
kept, " for the exercise of military discipliae, a
good armoury, and a fair Btuble of horeea, inso-
much as he was able to ai'm at all points both
horse and foot, and direra times had LOO foot
and fifty hone of liia own servants, mustered and
trained, for which pui^Mse be entertained cap-
taina He had also skilful riders, who taught
them to manage their borsea, and instructed
them in warlike exercises, all whom he rewarded
in a liberal manner* The splendour of bis re-
tinue on hia official progrewea, fully matched
these warlike appointments! for on his first jour-
uey to Kent, we are informed by the same au-
thority, he rode to Dover attended by more than
100 of his own servants in livery, including forty
gentlemen wearing chuns of gold. The stoteli-
uesi of his appearance on that occasion, and the
pomp he displayed on the following Sunday, in
the cathedral of Cnuterhury, were so great, thiit
Ik Roman Catholic from Rume who was present,
declared that he had never seen a more solemn
sight, or heard a more heavenly sound, except in
the pope's chapel.' Such an archbishop, in whom
her own grandeur was reflected, and Rome itself
rivalled, was most grateful to Elizabeth, who
visited bim yearly in her progresses, and was so
gratified with her entertainment, that she called
him her "black husband.' We can easily ima-
gine how this glitter aflectad the simple-minded
Puritans, and how strongly it must have con-
firmed them in the belief tliat the church stood
in need of reform. Rnt hia severe administra-
tion against them, which commenced only a few
months after hia promotion to the see of Can- '
terbury, convinced them that these showy caval- '
cades were not to form the head and front of his
offending. In hia articles for the observance of
discipline, he prohibited all preaching, rending,
or catechizing in private, " whereto any not of
the same family should resort." To compel uni-
formity, he withdrew the indulgences hitherto
allowed by the bishops to the Puritan ministers,
and ordered that none should preach or teach
unless he wore the clerical habits, conformed to
the whole service, and administered the sacrament
four times a-year — reqaiailions that emptied the
pulpits by hundreds. Even the remonstrances
of Burghtey and Walsingliara were in vain to
check these inquisitorial proceedings, and avert
"a they occasioned; for Whitgi ft, strong

Vol. it.

the favour of Elizabeth, was more powerful
than her council. Such was hia administration
during the twenty years of bis archiepiscopai
rule, and such the rent and troubled condition of
the English church when James became its re-
cognized head. Both parties had been for aome
awaiting the event in a suspense of hope
and fear. The Puritans might reasonably ex-
pect that James, as a Cal vinist, would coincide
with the strictness of their religious views; that
having publicly stigmatized the English service
evil said maaa,'' and Fasche and Yule as
unauthorized observances, he would abrogate, or
at least modify the Prayer Book, and discard the
obnoxious holidays; that, bred a Presbyterian,
he would endeavour to bring their church into
greater conformity with that of Scotland. But,
the other hand, the bishops might expect
much from the well-known dislike of James to a
church of presbyters, his labours for the estab-
lishment of a modified Episcopacy in Scotland,
and his love of abaolot« rule, which sought a
bench of bishops to support it. Even already,
Whitgift had sent his agents to Scotland to as-
sure James of the hearty devolediiess of himself
and hia brethren, and the king had promised his
royal favonr in requital. It was now the turn of
the Puritans to bestir themselves, and in April,
1603, while he was on his progress from Scot-
land, they presented to him their famous "mille-
nary petition."

This important manifesto Is worthy of notice,
as indicating the views of the Puritans at the
commencement of the aeventeentb century. Even
as yet, they seem to have contemplated not a re-
volution of the church, but its reformation, and
a reformation that did not touch its doctrines, or
even its Episcopal form of government, but only
its ceremonies and observances. They had al^n-
doned not only their Presbyterian model, but
theircoiidemnation of archbishops, bishops, deans,
and canons, which they liad formerly reprobated
as nnscriptural. Was it, that persecution luid
tanght them moderation ; or that their petition
was only tentative, and the first of a series that
would have followed Rtep by step, until the
change formerly in contemplation was completed?
It is impossible to tell, but the petition itself,
which was singularly moderate both in language
and srnrit, was as follows ;—

1, In regard to the church service: "That the
cross in baptism, the interrogatories to infante,
baptism by women, and confirmation, may be
taken away; that the cap and surplice may not be
urged; that examination may go before the com-
muuion; tliat the ring in marriage may be dis-
pensed with; that the service may be abridged,
and church songs and music moderated to better
cilification; that the Lnrd's-day may not be pro-

»Google

GIO

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Relioi

funed, nor the observation of other holidays
•trictly eujoiued ; tli&t miniBtera axty not be
churgetl to t«Bch their people to bow at the
name of Jesus; and that none bat canonicAl
Scriptures be read in the church.'

2. In regard to ministers : " That none may
be admitted but able men; that they lie obliged
to preBch on the Lord's-dny; that such ns are
not ci^ble of preaching may be removed, <»
obliged to maintain preachers; that non-reMdency
be not permitted ; that King Eidward's statute for
the lawfalneta of the marriage of the clergy lie
revived; and that miniaters be not obliged to
■abaeribe, but, according to law, to the articles of
religion, and the king's supremacy only."

3. In regard to beneficed : " That bishops leave
their commendams; that impropriations annexed
to bishoprics and colleges be given to preaching
incDmbenta only; and that lay impropriations be
charged with a sixth or a seventh part for the
maintenance of a preacher,"

4. In the matter of discipline: "Tliat excommu-
nication and censure lie not in the name of lay-
chancellors, &c.; that men be not excommunicated
for twelve-penny matters, nor without consent of
their pastors; tliat registrars and others, having
jurisdiction, do not put their places nut to farm;
that sundry Popish canons be revised; that the
length of suits in ecclesiastical courta may be re-
strained; that the oath kt n/Rcio be more spar-
ingly used, and licenses for marriage without
hanoa more sparingly granted.'

The oonaequence of this millenary petition vraa
the fiimoua Hampton Court Conference, which
James asserahled in the beginning of the follow-
ing year to determine the matters in dispute. In
even the amngemente for this memorable con-
flict it was made evident that the Puritans were
to be defeated, for while only four of their num-
ber were to he heard ae the repreaentatives of
their party, they had the principal chnrch digni-
taries of England arrayed against them, with the
king himself for their spokesman. It was such
an opportunity of parading his learning and theo-
logical skill as he had never yet enjoyed, and it
was to be displayed before kneeliugand admiring
pi'elatea, and brow-beaten opponents, instead of
sturdy Scottish presbyters ready to defend every
iota of their church against either king or kaiaar.
Scottish clergymen, indeed, as well ns noblemen,
were present, having been called np to England
by the king's letters to assist at the controversy;
but it was only that they might witness the de-
feat of his adversaries —that they might see how,
in his own wonl.*, he " peppereil them soundly,"
and have a full inkling of his resolution to estalt-
lish Episcopacy in their own countiy as well as
In England. Tliroughout the whole debate bis
conduct, which was a compound, or rather medley.

of tyrant, pedant, theologian, and buffoon, and
the jumble of learning, wisdom, and folly with
which he struck his opponents dumb, hare been
fully descrilied in another portion of our history.'
Hiahatred of the northern Presbyterianisra, from
which he had so lately eitca))ed, and his readineai
to identify it with English Puritanism, broke out
at every stage of the contest. This was especiitly
the case when Dr. Reynolds, the chief of the
Puritan advocates, reckoned the most leftrned
man in England, ventured to propose that the
clergy should be allowed to have meetings for
prophesying (preaching) in the rural deaneries
every three weeks; that such things as conid not
there be resolved might be referred to the arch-
deacon's visitation; and, finally, that al1thecIeT|ry
of each diocese should meet in an Episcopal tjvod,
with the bishop for its president, where tliey
might determine upon such queations as oould not
be decideil iu the inferior assemblies. But al-
though this was the nearest approach to Preeby-
terianiem that had been made throughout the
controversy, and although it was little else than
the modified system of church polity which Jamea
lisil been labouring with such pains to establish
in Scotland, it was anything but palatable to the
royal disputant, who sharply declared, " I will
none of that; I will have one doctrine and one
discipline— one religion in substance and cere-
mony.' "If you aim," he afterwards declared,
"at a Scottish presbytery, it agreeth with mo-
narchy as Qnd with the devil. Then Jack, and
Tom, and Will, and Dick shall meet, and at tiieir
pleasure censare me and my council, and all our
proceedings. Then Will shall stand np and say.
It must be thns: then Dick shall reply and Bay,
Nay, marry, but we will have it thns; and,ther^
fore, here I must on<!e more reiterate my former
speech, 'le rog JaviMra'' Still fuming with the
thought of Presbytery, he thus concluded his
strange Itarangue: — "Stay, I pray you, for one
seven years before you demat^tl that of me, and
if then yuu find me puny and fat, and my wind-
pipes stuffed, I will perhaps hearken to you, for
let that government he once up I am sure I shsll
be kept in breath: then shall we all of us have
work enough—both our hands full. But, Dr.
Reynolds, till ynu find that I givw lazy, let that

Bnt useless though this controversy was in the
composing of differences and ending of strife, it
produced one essential benefit to Britain and thr
Christian world at large, for which its defecbi
might well he oreriooked. During the course of
discussion, Reynolds had proposed to bis majesty

John KurrlBcMo'i St/a AUiqtia.

»Google

A.D. 1603-1660.1

HISTORY OP RELiaiON.

611

that there aliould be tokde a new IranalatioD of the
Bible, in coowqueace of the errors that iutd crept
into the preiwdiDg verBiona; and although Ban-
croft, Bishop of Loudon, had testily observed,
that "if ererjr inao'e huiuour should be followed
there would be no end of tmislatiug,' Jarnee
eagerly closed with the pmpoaal. None of the
fiMiuer kioga had been so well qualified for such
an undertaking, for, apart from tiis follies, ha was
i-eally what Barlow had eulogistical ly termed hiiu,
"a living library and a walking study." It was
happy, also, that in this overture of Beynolds,
which was so favourably received, the souitduesH
and authority of revel^oa were to be kept free
from fallible and sectarian ialerferenee; fur the
proposal was, "That a translation be made of the
whole Bible as consonant as can be to the original
Hebrew and Greek ; and thix to be set out and
printed ioi$Aout ang vmrgituil nota." [It would ,
have been as well if this reetrio^ou had apared
us the " Epistle Dedicatory ' of the transUtmu]
Learned scholare were aelected throughout the
English naiversities for the task, and the result
showed the judiciousueM with which the choiue
waa made. The names of forty translators are
given out of the fifty-four to whom the work was
intrusted; and even in that age of learning it
would have been dillicult, if not inipoesible, to
find more liArued and accomplished linguists.
The task was divided among them into six sec-
tions, and the work went on simultaneously at
Westminster, Cambridge, and Oxford, while each
portion, on being tinished, was revised by a com-
mittee selected for the purpose. The groundwork
of the new tranalatiou was tlte Bishops' Bible;
but in those casea where they better agreed with
the original, the trenshitioua of Tyndale, Cover-
dale, Matthew, and Whitchurch's (printer) or
Cninmer's and the Oeneva veniion, were to be
used in preference. In apportioning the divisions
of the duty, so that each workman should be
auit«d according to his own particular fitness,
Selden, in his TiMt-Talk, informs us "the trans-
lators in King James's time took an excellent
way. That part of the Bible was given to him
who was most excellent in such a tongue (as the
Apocrypha to Andrew Uowues); and then they
met together, and one read the translation, tlie
rest holding in their hands some Bible, either of
the learned tongues, or French, Spauish, Italian,
&c. If they fouud any fault they spoke; if not
they read on." The whole venion waa completed
and printed in 1611, and such waa its recognized
superiority that all tlie previous translations gave
place to it: even in Scotland it superseded the
honoured Geneva Bible, the text-book of the
northern Reformers nnd martyrs.' It is superfln-

f.iM-3t6.

■1 Bi^itK B

0U9, after more than two centuries of experience,
during which this version has been a sole autho-
rity, to advert to its excellence, whether as a faith-
ful tmusjatiuu, or a "well of English undefiled."
While our national Protestantism endutvs, not
only in Britain, but wherever the Anglo-Saxon
race extends, it will continue to be the oracle of
i-eligioiu coUBultatioD, and the test of theological
controversy ; aiid, ss long as our language is
spoken, it will maintain its authority as a national
dictionary and standard.

After the Hampton Court meeting, the Puri-
tans felt the fruitleeaness of their hopee. James
hud declared hia full aatidfaction with the church
as it was then established in England, hia disin-
clination to any change vi it, and his reaotution
to make it a universal chui-ch to which all should
lie obliged to conform. The convocation which
-was held two months afterwards confirmed the
worst fears of the Puritans. A new collection, or
Book of CantMU, drawn up by the intolerant Ban-
croft, Bishop of London, was passed through the
convocation and the two Housea of Parliament,
and ratified by the king, which had conformity
for ita chief object; and for thia purpose the cere-
monials at which the Puritans especislly slum-
bled — the use of the clerical vestments, kneeling at
the communion, bowing at the name of Jeau8,&c
— were brought forward with unapAring diatinct-
uess. It was decreed, slso, that all objectors to
the Book of Common Prayer, to the Tbirty-nina
Articles, to the ^loatolical character of the dinrch
by law established, t« the ordination of bishops,
and all abettora of churches not belonging to that
establishment, should be accursed and excommu-
nicated. Before the doae of 1604, through the
death of Whitgift, Bancroft became Archbiihop
of Canterbury, and his beloved canons were imt
likely, under hia admiiiistratioa, to remain a dead
letter. In conaequenoe of the severity wiUi which
they were executed, it has been all^t^ that not
fewer than ISOO ministers were suspended. But
while persecution had become the order of the
day, BO that no better alternative remained for the
oppressed than flight and exile, a new home was in
preparation to receive them, nnd a new world to
cultivate and colonize. Out of theee English trou-
blen, and by the agency of these deapiaed aixl
aDticted Puritans, an empire as powerful as the
parent country waa to be founded in the untrod-
den wilds beyond the Atlantio— an empire which,
perliaps, may flourish as the Britain of future
ages, when the important deatiniee of the parent
country have been fulfilled I

At the close of Elizabeth's reign, when the se-
verities used against the Nonconformists had con-
tinned to increase, and when the porta of England
were w closely watched tiiut the victims oonld
obtain the jirivilege of banishment only at tlia

»Google

613

niSTORy OF ENGLAND.

[BELioioy.

risk of death or iropriMnment, a uongregation of
Brownistii, with their pastor, Juhn BobiDSOU,haJ
efiected their cso^W from England to Leydeii.
But they Boon found that Holland was not their
cougeoial home. The climate was uu«ait«d to
tliem, the mechanical oocupatioua which they had
to follow were unwelcome to men who had been
occuatamed to agriculture, and with the langiuige
and manuera of the Dutch they could not become
familiar. Though their country had out them
out, Blill they were and would be Buglishmeu;
and they reaulved to make, if they could uot find,
an England of their owu — a country where they
could follow their own modes of life, and above
all, where they could worship Qod aooording to
the dictates of their own conscience. Even their
children and posterity were to be Eoglish, speak-
ingthe language of their fathers, and living un-
der the dominion of the mother country ; and
from this patriotic feeling they rejected the kind
ofTera of their Dntch landlords, who would have
defrayed the expenses of the euterpriae, and ac-
companied thera to their distant place of settle-
meat. Virginia was the place of their aeleclion,
because it was within the pale of English rule,
but still sufficiently remote for the purposes of
imfety ; and having obtained the permission of the
Virginia Company bx London, they made pre-
parations for their departure by convertiiig their
scanty property into a common stock, and hiring
two small vessels, the Speedwell of aijtty, and the
ifaji/tomrot 180 tons. "We are well weaned,"
they aaid, "from the delicate milk of our mother
country, and inured to the difficulties of a strange
land. The people are industrious and frugal.
We are knit together as a body in a most sacred
covenant of the Lord, of the violation whei-eof
we make great conscience, and by virtue whereof
we hold ourselves straitly tied to all care of each
others good, and of the whole. It is not witli
na as with men whom amalt things can diacour-
ago." Such were tliose Pilgrim Fathers of the
New World, who, with such defective means, but
heavenly and heroic purpose, embarked upon an
enterprise as bold as that of Cortez and Pizarro
— and with what a nobler termination!

Every step of this adventure, which forms so
important an epoch in English history, is worthy
of attention, although we must dismiss the sub-
ject with a brief and passing notice. After they
had resided above ten ycara in Leyden, the first
embarkation commenced in 1S211. Of R'lbintion's
congregation, which uainbered about 300 persons,
only a minority could, in the lirst instance, set
mil, owing to the sninllneM of tlie vunels; but
these were to act as the pioneeiu of the enter-
prise, and were to be followed by Hobinson and
the rest ng soon a* a settlement had been effected
In Virginia, that had now obtniiied the name of

I New England. In that miui8tei''d parting ha-
iwiijue, there was a liberality and greatness of
sentiment seldom accorded by popular report
to these early Puritans, and which all parties of
Christians in the present day would do well U>
study. "The Lord baa more truth jet to hrmk
forth," he said, "out of his Holy Word. I cannot
sufficiently bewail the condition of the Reformed
churches, which are come to a period in religion,
and will go, at present, no further than the in-
strumente of their reformation. Luther and
Calviu were great and shining lights in Ibcir
times, yet they penetrated not into the whde
counsel of Ood. The Lutherans cannot be dra^wn
to go beyond what Luther saw; and the Caivin-
iats, you see, stick fast where they were left by
that great muii of God. I beseech you remember
it — 'tia an article of your church covenant — that
you shall be ready to receive whatever truth shall
be made known to you from the written Won) of
God.' The vessels sailed, iu the first uistance,
from Holland to England; but, after a short stay
there, ihe Spaedmell being declared nnservice«blp,
the Ma^oteer alone held onward in its conrse,
fieighted with 101 passengers, consialing of men,
women, and children; and, after a voyage of sixty-
three days, they landed at that part of the Ame-
rican coast, on whicih they founded the towna of
Plymouth and Bosten. Such wab the foundation
of the United States of America! A huge mass
of dark gray granite was the giound on whtdi
they first set foot as they landed; and b^ora tlie
town-hall of Plymouth it ie now planted, aa a
great national monument of the Pilgrim Fathers,
the fouciders of the American Republic Sick and
exhausted with the fatigues of the voyage, Lhey
fell upon their knees as soon as they had reached
the shore, and blessed the God of heaven who hail
brought them in safely through perils and tem-
pests, after which they proceeded to draw up the
political constitution under which they vrere \a
live together as a community. It was as brief
and simple as the germ of a great national com-
pact could well be, for it was iu the following
words:— "In the name of Ood, amen; we whose
names are underwritten, the loyal aubjecte of our
dread sovereign, King Jamei, having undertaken,
for the glory of Ood, and advancem«it of the
Clirislian faith, and honour of our kiiig and coun-
try, a voyage to plant the fint colony in the
northern patts of Virginia, do, by these presents,
solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God,
and one of another, covenant and combine our-
selves togethei' into a civil body politic, for ow
better order and preservation, and furtherance of
the ends afurevtid; and by virtue hereof, t/> enact,
cnnatitiite, and fi'nme such just and equal lavs,
oi-dinnnces acts, constitutions, and offices, from
time to time, as shall be thought most convenimt

»Google

.. 1603-1660.]

HrSTORY OF RELIGION.

ft>r the geneml good of the colony. Unto wliich
we promiiie nil due BubiuiHaion «iid obodiencr.' '

The rest of the reign of James wu spent in a
constant but unsucceasful warfare agtiioHt the
Puritaniaiu of England and the Preabyterinniim
of Scotland, uid hopeless attempts to reduce both
kingdoms, «s vrell aa all partiee, to complete itni-
formily in their belief and modes of worship; but
these attempts only multiplied the divisions of
Ejigliah aectariaaiam, and threw bock the Scots
into a more intense adhereuce upon their owu na-
tional church. One of bis most important move-
ments iu this direction was in 1016, wheit he
pnbliahed his "Declaration to EnBourage ltei:r«a-
tiotu and SporU on tAe LorvTt-dag,' a work bet-
ter knowu by the title of the Soot of Sporli. He
saw that Furitanism, by exalting the Sabbath,
bad made the festivals of the church of little ac-
count, and that the weekly fasts, the season of Lent,
and the Embering days were generally neglected.
He therefore annouuced it to be bis pleasure
that the people, " after the end of Divine service,
should not be disturbed, letted, or disoouraged
from any lawful recreations, such as dancing,
either of nieu or women, archery for men, leaping,
vaulting, or any such harmless lecreations, nor
having of may-polra, whitsun-ales, or morrice-
dances, or setting up of may-poles, or other sports
tlierewith used, so as the same may be done in
due and convenient time, without impediment or
let of Divine service; and that women should
have leave to rairry rushes to the chnrch for the
deooring of it, according to their old customs."
As the Puritans were also distinguished by their
love of preaching, while the pulpit was their
chief engine of conversion, James, iu 1622, issued
cerbiin injuoctious to the clergy, by which the
voice of Puritanism was to be abated, or abso-
lutely silenc«d. By these it was ordained that
no preacher under the rank of a bishop or a dean
should fall in his sermons into any common-place
of divinity not to be found in the Thirty-nine
Articles, or the Homilies; and that no mere parish
minister should presume to discourse to any
popular auditory on the deep points of predes-
tination, election, reprobation, the universality,
efficacy, resistibility, or irresistibility of God's
grace — the themes hi which the Ctdvinism of the
Puritans was most frequently directed. All
preachers, also, of whatever degree, were prohi-
bited from presuming, in any auditory, to declare,
limit, or set bounds to the prerogative, power, or
jurisdiction of sovereign princes, or to meddle at
all with affairs of state. The punishment decreed
for all such ofTeuders was suspension for a year
aud a day, till hie majesty should pi'escribe some
further penalty with advice of the convocation.

While James was thus pursuing his favourite
mode of warfaiv, his own religious belief was
undergoing certain luodifications which could not
fall to be influential upon the church at large.
Ue had been nursed iu the Calvinistic creed; aud
he was so devoted to its doctrines, that he was
ready to persecute all who contradicted or op-
posed them. Of this he gave a signal proof in
16JI, when he wrot« to the states of Holland,
demanding the deposition of Vorslius from the
pcofessorehip of theology at Leyden, because he
was an Arminian.' But while the abstract doc-
trines of the Qeuevese Refoimer were so much to
his taste, their practical operation, as manifested
both iu the Presbyterian iem of Scotland, and the
Puritanism of England, was more odious to him
than Popery iCaelf. Tlie sternness of Calvinism,
the strict morality it enjoined, and above all, itf
hostility to splendour and formalism in the chnrdi
and absolutism in the state, were revolting to the
despotic tendencies of James, whom they had
thwarted in Scotland, and now continued to op-
pose in England. On the other hand, the prelates
and heads of the English church to whom the
Puritan antagonism had endeared the opposite
doctrines of Arminius, were distinguished by their
devotednen to the Divine right of kings, and the
principles of non-resistance and passive obedi-
ence. It was not strange, therefore, if the mind
of James, influenced by the same causes, and at-
tracted towards such supporters, should abate his
hatred to Arminianism, and finally learn to em-
brace it. This he did ; and his BixA of Sporti,
aud prohibitious of Calvinistic preaching, were
striking indications of the change. But a spirit
was abroad which neither king nor prelate could
conjure down ; a tide wai gathering and advanc-
ing against which Episcopal bench and kingly
throne were weait embankments ; and the oppo-
sition of Charles I., which was unable to check,
served only to hasten the catastrophe.

If the hopes of the Puritans had been exdted
by the accesuon of James to the English throne,
no such expectations could be entertained of bia
successor. On the contrary, having a Papist U^
his queeu, and lAud for his oounsaliw in church
aflbirB, they regarded the new sovereign with fear
and saspicion, which bis proceedings soon tended
tojnstify. Thecharacterirf the Arminian bishop*
and clen^y hy whom Charles was surrounded, and
ill whom the English cburcli was now imperson-
ated, was a sure indicatiou of the religious mea-
sures by which his reign was to be signalised:
" They admitted the Chnrch of Rome,' a modem
ecclesiastical historian thus describes them, "to
be a true church, and the pope the finit bishop of
Christendom. They declared for the lawfnlneH
of images in churches ; for the real p

»Google

6U

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Reijoioit.

t^t the doctrine of traaaubaUntialion wua a
school nicety. They pleaded for confeasiou to a
priest, for aacerdotal absoliition, and the proper
merit of good works. The/ claimed on untnter-
rupt«d suocesaion of the Episco)iBl character from
the apostles through the Church of Rome, which
obliged them to nuiiataiii the validity uf her ur-
dioationB, when thej denied the validity of those
of the foreign Protcetants. Further, they began
to imitate the Church of Borne iii her gaudy
ceremonies, ia the rich furniture of their chapels,
and the pomp of their worship. They compli-
mented the Bomaa Catholic priests with their
dignitary titles, and spent all their zeal in study-
ing; bow to compromise matters with Rome, while
they turned their backs upon the ohl Protestiuit
doctrines of the Reformation, and were remark-
ably negligent in preaching, or instructing the
people in Christian knowledge," ' The Puritans,
upon whom this semi-Popery was attempted tu
be impoeed, were now strong enough to resist the
violation, and it needed no prophetic inspiration,
or even extraordinary sagacity, to foresee that a
civil war would be inevitable.

Charles had not been many weeks upon the
throne when he commenced those religious ag-
] which were to end in his ruin. The
ent, also, was made with Scotland,
whose long-suffering bis father had already so
severely tried. James in England had never lost
sight of his favourite plan of establishing Episco-
pacy in bis native country, and though he had
not brought its church entirely to the English
model, he bad established bishops, through whom
the clergy and the church courts were controlled,
and the GeoemJ Assembly itself reduced to little
more than an empty form. But this was not
enough in the eyes of Charles, and he sent down
injunctions to Scotland, by which conformity to
the obnoxious articles of Perth was to be enforced
with double severity, and the General Assemblies
to be no longer permitted to meet. Having thus
done what was certain to alienate the affections
of the people, his next blonder was to incense the
proud nobility of Scotland, by lowering their
rank and menacing their property. The first
of these measures was to be effected by raising
Spotswood, the Archbishop of St Andrews, to
the chancellorship, which would have given him
precedence of all the nobles ; the second, by re-
euming those church lands which the nobles had
seized at the Reformation, but whicit were now
to be recalled and converted into a fund for the
maintenance of the bishops, and the eetnblishmeut
of a more costly form of worship. And that form
of wonhip was to be the same as that of England.
instead of the simple Presbyterian form which
)ii> father had been obliiced ta leave untouched.

A Ldturgy was therefore prepared for the countrr.
nud one more Anniuian and Popish than that of
England ; for Laud, its chief author, who hoped
to establish these innovationa over the wbolr
united kingdoms, had foolishly imagined thatthr
experiment coold be more safely and eflbctually
commenced in Scotland, which he regarded as h
mere tributary province. The introduction of
this unfortunate service-book into Edinbuigli,
and the fate it encountered, h&ve been narrated
in another chapter.' Theu came the establisb-
ntent of the Four Tables, the drawing up aoJ
subscription of the Covenant, and the meeting of
the famous General Assembly at Glasgow in 163S
^movements l^ which Episcopacy was amft to
the winds, Presbyterianiam re-established in all
its entireness, and f nil preparation made to vin-
dicate the national choice by the appeal of baltl*
which was certain to follow.

While Laud and hb brethren, under the pst-
lonage of Charles, had thus been alienating Scot-
land, and ripening their theological oontrorsn]'
into campaigns and fields of blood, their pnweed-
ings in England had been still more unadriasd
and violent. We need not again advert to tht
star-chambering of the period — to the fines smi
mutilations which were inflicted upon the unfor-
tunate Puritans, and the henuc spirit in wbicb
they were endured until endunutce was no longer
wise or safe. The Scottish resistance roused the
spirit of England, and the assembling of the I^isg
Parliament in 1640 made the voice of Puritanism
be heard. It was Puritaniaiu also no longer
checked by its reverence for royalty, but embit-
tered alike against king and bishop, and demsna-
ing such restrictions upon both as had never been
previously contemplated. As yet, both Preibi'-
terians and Puritans formed but a minority is
the house, while the reform of Epiact^w? ffow
Armiuianism, rather than its utter extinctioa, w"
the fir«t object contemplated. But they winDcd
and kindled as they proceeded in their work,
until the ref(«ination became a revolution. A'
last, when the bill was passed into a law on th*
14tb of Febmary, 1642, by which bishops mrt
incapacitated from voting in parliament, ^i»^
pacy was no longer the paramount form of u'
English church, and afterwards the clergy **'*
free to use the Liturgy in their pulpits, or re)**
it as tliey pleased. The cathedral service wat
also banished and the buildings defaced, Uia>>»"
and stone tables removed, snd the crucifi**
}>ainting, and statuary demolished. WheD t"*
externals of warship were thus jiroecribsd, »|"
i-eligion itself redured to principles, the OJvin-
i»tic theology, which had now obtained '"^ PJ*"
dominance, was M nearly aUied to that of ***'
Innd, that the adopUon of Pre«byter^||i^!^

I

,v Google

A.D. 1603-1600.]

HISTORY OF RELIGION.

615

an May atep, luort especially when it formed the
price of Scottish oo-operatioa and aaaiatanoe.

And now the Weatminater Aeeembly waa an
iiMvitable sequence. As it was the parliament
tjiat needed the aid and co-operation <A the Scots
tigainat the king, it was bj the atithoritj of the
two HouacB of Parliament alone that this im-
portant assemblj was convened. It consisted
of ISl divines, to whom twenty-one more were
soon afterwards added — four miniaters and three
lay asseaaors from Scotland — ten English peers,
nnd twenty members of the House of Commons.
The condition of Episcopacy ih its present state
was mournfully indicated by the preaence of
about twenty clergymen of the Established
chnrch, a small minority, and utterly unfit to
stem the tide that was advancing so reaiitleasly
against their cause. But they were speedily
saved from such a hopeless struggle; for in con-
sequence of the king's proclamation forbidding
the assembly, and declaring its acts illegal, those
chnrcbmen retired. The place of meeting was
Westminster Abbey, and the sittings commenced
on the 1st of July, 1643. The majority of the
divines belonging tc the Westminster Assembly,
although they had received Episcopal ordination,
were Presbyterians ; and when it was called to-
gether for the purpose of settling such a govern-
ment for the church "as might be most agreeable
to God's Holy Word," an intimation was added,
" that it should be brought into a nearer agree-
ment with the Church of Scotland and other
Reformed churches abroad." Then followed the
subscription of England to the Solemn League
aud Covenant, through its national representa-
tives, in the church of St. Margaret, Westminster,
on the 16th of September, 1643. But still, the
Presbyterianism thus established was not the
Presbyter! anism of Scotland. The distingaish-
iiig feature of the latter was its independence of
the dvil power, and its sacred right of self-gov-
erument aa managed by sessions, presbyteries,
synods, and general assemblies. As Andrew
Helvil had distinctly announced to King James,
Chriat alone was head of the church, and in it
his majesty was neither a king, nor n head, nor
n lord, bnt a member. On this account, every
question of the chui-cli was settled, and every law
for its government enacted, by the church conrta
alone, while the General Assembly was the high-
est and last court of appeal. In England, a simi-
lar fnune-work was to be set up, consisting of four
church courts, termed the parochial, cinssicat,
provincial, and national. But what was tn be
the last tribunal of appeal ) Here the parliament
stepped in, and claimed for itnelt the full right
to decide and terminate, let the chnrch courts de- ,
liberate and decree as they might. Thus, it was
uothing better than the shackled Preabyterian-

ism of King James — a spiritual republic strip-
ped of its independence, and subject to state con-
trol. But independently of this symptom of its
insufficiency and feebleness to brave the storms
that were gathering around it, there was another
circumstance from which its speedy decay and
downfall might have been easily predicted. It
was not the spontaneous growth of the English
soil, nor even the object of its affectionate adop-
tion. The Scottish nation, in consequence of iU
primitive Culdee teachera, had possessed a Pre»-
b3rterianism of its own from the earliest introduc-
tion of Christianity. In this its childhood and
youth had been nursed, and from this it bad
mainly derived that heroic independence of spirit
which formed for ages such a striking feature of
the national character ; and when the Reforma-
tion arrived, it was not otherwise to be expected,
than that Scotland should at once embody it in
the congenial Presbyteriau form. Thus the sub-
scription of the Covenant in the church of Grey-
friars', Edinburgh, was a very different deed from
the subscription of the same Covenant in St.
Margaret's, Westminster. In the former, it was
the rising of a whole people for the recovery of
that which they valued more than life— a new
Bannockbum for something nobler than mere
political liberty; while in the latter case, it was
a confession of weakness, and badge of national
hnmiliation and submission. In these oonsidera-
tions alone we see cause enough for the weakness
of English Preabyterianisro, and the facility with
which it waa overthrown.

The state of parties into which the Westmin-
ster Assembly was divided is explanatory, not
only of the reluctant assent which was given to
the present decision, but also of the discord-
ance of its future sittings. These parties were
originally four in number, but after the secession
of the Episcopalians they were reduced to three,
viz., Presbyterians, Independents, and Erastians.
Of thene the Presbyterians were by far the most
numerous, and might be considered as the repre-
sentatives of English Puritanism throogh all ita
preceding stages. In the words of Fuller, "they
either favoured the Presbyterian discipline, or in
process of time were brought over to embrace it.*
The nature of that diacipUnehasbeensutficiently
explained already in our various notices of the
Scottish church. Among their leaden in the
assembly were those learned and eloquent di-
vines, CaUimy, Oataker, Hildersham, Sperstowe,
Corbet, and Vines; while, iu the House of Com-
mons, their political influence whs strong in
Waller, Denzil Hollis, Clot^rorthy, and other
leading members of the day. The Independents,
who were but a small party compared with their
rivals, whom they were so noon to overthrow,
were supposed, at the time, to be nearly aaaimi-

»Google

616

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[BflJOK

litted in tfaeirfurm of church govenimeal U.
n«8byt«ruu)s; bnt it is too well known how aaeh
fi reaemblMiM, ninoug differmt secto of religioa-
iats, iDstead of prodnciiig concord and brotherly
affectioD, more comnioolf letkds to jeaJousy, ha-
tred, and strife. Abandmiing the name of Browo-
iats, they had now adopted the narae of Indepen-
dents, thaa changing it from that of their founder
to the principle by which their church waa regu-
lated. Thia waa, that every separate congn^-
tion has the entire right of government within
itaelf, nnder the management of its own elders.
Tliey admitted, indeed, a connection with the
other congTegalione of their community in judg-
ing of the offence committed by any individual
church; but all that their collective eccleBiaatical
power cimld effect, in the way of punishing the
offending congr^ation, was to exclude it from
their communion, and allow it, thus isolated, to
follow its own devices. The third party, that of
the Enstians^who derived their title from their
founder. Dr. Eraatus, a physician of Germany —
held, in opposition both to Preebyterians and In-
depeodents, that no form of ecclesiastical govern-
ment is laid dovrn in the Divine Word— that the
minister is simply a lecturer or teacher of reli-
gion, and nothing more— and that all offences,
ecclesiastical as well as civil, are punishable by
the magistrate alone. Thus, in their eyes, the
church was but the creature of the state, and
the minister, even in his spiritual capacity, the
subject of the civil ruler. Their sentiments in
the Westminster Assembly, where they were
chiefly represented by these learned Oriental
scholars, Coleman and Lightfoot, and the lay
aaaesHon, Selden, Whitelock, and St. John, nl-
though equally disapproved by the two other
parties, were in high favour with the statesmen
and the House of Commons, whose authority
they enforced and aggrandized.'

The assembly continued its sittings, with oc-
easional intermptions, till 1649, a space of six
yean, after whii^ it was changed into a commit-
tee that met weekly, for the trial and examina-
tion of ministera; but we can only give a brief
enumemtton of the chief of its manifold proceed-
ings. It adopted the English metrical version of
the PHalras by Mr. Itous, as the authorized ver-
sion for the Churches of England and Scotland;
and thongh this translation was soon disused in
the former country, it has continued in the latter
to our own day. It drew up the Directory for
Poblic Worship, to serve instead of the Book of
Common Prayer, which waa suppresHed. Thia
Directory, while it was sanctioned by the jiarlia-
ment, and the use of it in the churches enforced
by heavy fines, was prohibited by a proclamation

X, Lift; Hatlieringloii'

of the king. But the great work of the WeaUnin-
Bter Asaembly — and one for which all its efron
and shortcomings, were they even aa great and
many as its enemies allege, might be foigiTita—
waa the drawing up of the Confession of Faith,
that clearest and ablest eompend of ChrirtUn
doctrine which ha> ever yet been presented, and
whii^h still continues to be the revered standard
of theRirkof ScoUand. After the Confessktt of
Faitli was finished, the larger and BhorterUte-
chisms were construct«d on its model, for ininu
andfamily religious instruction; andahhon^tbe
Larger, which was intended for adults, hw b«M
gradually lost sight of amidst the more attiaetiTe
voluminous treaties of modem theology, tlw
Shorter Catechism is still the text-book, not oalf
of the religions education of the young in Scot-
land, but among many of the Dissenting con-
munities of England. Bnt notwithstanding iH
intrinsic worth, the Confession of FUth, whkh
waa completed in 1646, did not secnre, evoi for
its doctrinal parts, the eoncnrrence of the oliok
asaembly; and in the state of parties we eu
easily perceive that such an nn animity of religioi"
opinion was impossible, But their discord tu
at the height upon the imporlant question of the
form of discipline and government for the Esg-
lish church. The Presbyterians and Indepee-
dents were agreed that tlie/orm of a chorch waa
kid down in the New Testament, but this the
Erastian party stoutly denied. Again, vhilc tl»
Erastians agreed with the Fr«shyteriana thattbe
form of church government proposed by the lat-
ter was the fittest to be established by the atII
power, they denied its claim to Divine origia and
authority, in which denial they were, of eonne,
joined by the Independents. Presbyteriaaisii
was thus adopted only by a majority in tie as-
sembly; but while its claim to Divine r^' ***
supported by the common council and tb« '''I
ministers of London, it was refused bytliepai^
liament, which also retained to itKlf the ri^t ^
judge and punish iu eoclenastical offences. An-
other trying subject was the question of trie*
tion. Several years earlier not lev than ogbtj
congregations, of different sectaries, had bNO
enumerated by Biskop HaU in the House of
Lords, and since that period they had been <■"
the increase thmughont the kingdom. And vn''
course were they to adopt with these fbnoidallf
recusants? By the subscription of the Covenanf,
they were bound to labour for the exUrpatiM »
Popery, prelacy, superstition, heresy, schinn*.
and profaneness; and they bad promised to dis-
cover all malignants and incendiaries who ahouw
hinder the reformation of religion, divide the
king from his subjects, or excite any fstt"""
among the people, contrary to the league ati'
Covenant, and bring them to public iji«l •"

,v Google

A.D. 1003—1660.]

HISTORY OF BEUaiON.

617

condign punishment. Bat the right of persecuting
every aect opposed to PresbyterianUm, bod sub-
duing their recusancy by the sword, was opposed
in the Westminster Awembly by the Indepen-
dents and Erastiana, and decisively rejected by
the parliament. As yet, the great principle of
toleration van but beginning to dawn upon the
ChriBtioa world, and the sect that had JMen per-
secuted to-day were as ready ia become the per-
secutors of to-morrow, when their own hour had
arrived. From this general charge, indeed, the
Independents wera beginning to be an honour-
able excetition; and in the notices of BaillLe,who
was one of the commia&ioners to the assembly
from the Church of Scotland, we find how greatly
the Preabytoriana were annoyed by this new
phase of Cliristian liberality. "While Cromwell
Is here,* he writes on one occasion, " the House
of Commons, without the least advertisements to
any of us, or of the assembly, passes an order
that the grand committee of both houses, assem-
bly and us [the Scottish PreabyUrians], shall con-
sider of the means to unite ua and the Indepen-
dents; or, if that be found impossible, to see how
they may be tolerated. This has much affected
us. Tlicse men have retarded the assembly these
twelve long months." And agnin; "But their
greatest plot, wherewith we are wrestling, is an
order of the House of Commons, contrived by
Mr. Solicitor (Oliver St. John) and Mr. Marshall,
which they got stolen through to the committee
of lords, commons, and divines, which treated
with us to consider of dilTerencea in point of
church government which were sroong the mem-
bers of the assembly, if they might be agreed ;
or if not, how far tender consciences might be
borne with, which could not come up to the com-
mon rule to be established, that so the proceedings
of the assembly might not be retarded. This
order presently gave us the alarm; we saw it wna
for a toleration of the Independents, by act uf
parliament, before the Presbytery or any com-
mon rule were established." In another passage
BailJie acknowledges the liberal forbearance of
these Independents, but only to condemn it:
"They plead," he writer, "for a toleration to other
sects, as well as to themselves; and with much
ado could we get them to propose what they de-
sired to [for] themselvefi. At last they did give
us a paper requiring expressly a full toleration
of congregntionR, in their way everywhere sepa-
rate from ours." Thus, though the Presbyterian
church government was established, it was not
without a long struggle, and with it was c^tab-
Iblied wlwt it had so zealouiity opposed — the
toleration of every classof Nonconformists. £ven
whei-e exceptions were madu, it was rather in re-
ference to the political perversity, thou the reli-
gions errors of those who wei-e excepted. Tlie
Vol. II.

Roman Catholics, and especially their priests and
the Jesuits, were slill exposed to persecntion, but
it was as the friends of a foreign ecclesiastical des-
potism; and the Protestant bishops and Episcopal
clergy were closely watched, and harshly treated,
as the adherents of monarchical rule. Atheism
was punished, and all persons were required to
attend some place of woi-ship. Every outrage
against religion was also punished, such as profan-
ity, vice, blasphemy, and the holding of opinions
that tended to dissolve society ; and trading, ti'avcl-
liug, or frequenting of taverns on the Sabbiitli,
were made punishable by fine or imprisonment.
In this way Preabyterianism had commenced
the battle of civil and religious liberty, achieved
the overthrow of Episcopacy, and established it-
self in the room of the gorgeous church which it
had supplanted. But iu a great national revolu-
tion it frequently happens, that those by whom it
has been effected are succeeded by actora still
more violent and impetuous, by whom tlie change
is pushed to an extreme, and the (MHintry pre-
pared for a reaction. And such was tlie fate of
Presbyterianism in England, of which a very
few years witnessed the triumph and the down-
fall. In the great strife between the two rival
parties, the political moderation of the Presby-
terians was out of season, nnd in the question
which was narrowed to despotism or a repnlt-
iic, their views of a limited monarchy, which
were afterwards to form the base of the British
constitution, were regarded as pusiliauimous and
tame. More thorough-going men and fiercer ex-
tremes were in greater accordance with the spirit
of the age and the character of the struggle, and
these accordingly were found in the Indepen-
dents, and the wild sects which Independency
had produced. It was by the army and its
matchless leader that Presbytery as well as mo-
narchy was overthrown ; and the change of the
army from Presbyterian to Independent can be
easily traced in the Iiiatory of the day. At first,
the soldiers were men of the Covenant, and they
fought merely for a ntionol limitation of the
kingly [lower, not its absolute extinction. Each
regiment also had its Presbyterian chaplain, who
marched to the field with his parishioners. But
after the battle of Edgehlll and the re-modelling
of the army, when wild sectaries were poured
into the ranks and more decisive measures adopt-
ed, these clergymen, finding themselves out of
place, retired to their peaceful cures. "This fatal
accident,' the historian of Puritanism observes,
"proved the ruin of the cause in which the pai--
lianient were engaged; for the army being desti-
tute of chaplains, who might have restrained the
irregularities of their zeal, the officers set up for
preachers in their several regiments, dependiug
upon a kind of uiirouulous nssiatance of the

»Google

618

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

(ReLiau:^.

Divine Spirit, without &nj study or preparalioa;
and when their iniaKinations were heated, they
gare vent to the most crude and uudigeated ab-
surdities. Nor did Ibe evil rest there; for, fi-om
preaching at the head of their regiments, they
took poasesaion of the country pulpits where
the; were quartered, till at length they spi-ead
the iufection over the whole nation, and brought
the regular ministry into contempt,''' The mili-
tary successes of such an army soon turned the
scale in the House of Commons, where the Inde-
pendents acquired a lai-ge majorilyi and as a
political power, Presbyterian ism may be said to
have terminated its existence in England with
the execution of the king.

But although the triumph of Independency had
been so signal, it.i reign was brief. Its history,
however, is so fully impersonate<l in that of the
Commonwealth, that the subject may be wound
up with a few brief notices. Toleration was the
order of the day during the protectorate; and this
principle was the more easily observed, that no
exclusively established church exiated. In the
present state of things, indeed, such an eatabiiah-
meot would have been impoaaible, where the su-
perior numbers and wealth of the Presbyterians
were counterpoised by the military strength and
political influence of the Independents. The pa-
riah cliiirchea therefore throughout England, al-
though occupied in greatest measure by Preiby-
terian incumbents, were also, in many cases, held
by Independent ministetE, or even by sectaries of
a less orderly description, while several were still
retained by their old Episcopal possessors. Even
gifted laymen, who weie supposed either by
themselves or others to poa»evi in an especial
degree the powers requisite for teachers of re-
ligion, found the pulpits ojien to their entrance.
The evils of this slate of things, however, were
ao obvious, that in March, 1653, Cromwell ap-
pointed a " Board of Triers," consisting of thirty-
eight members, and compojed of PresbyteriaiiH,
Independents, and Baplinti, to limit the nasump-
tjon and correct the abuse* of the ministerial
office, by testing the qualificaHons of those who
held it. This board continued in office until the
death of Cromwell, when it waq annihilated at
the Restoration; and although much ridicule was
afterwards thrown upon the inetjtution, yet the
services of these triers were of substantial and
lasting benefit. This we learn from the impartial
testimony of Baxter, who disowned their com-
mission, and was regarded by them as an enemy.
"The truth is," be says, "that though their au-
thority is null, and though some few over-busy
and over-rigid Indei>endenta among them were
too severe against all that were Armininns, and
too particular in inquiring after eridenees of

sanctilication iu those whom they examined, anA
somewhat too lax in their admission of unleariKd
and erroneous men thatfavoured Antiaoniiuiiui
or Anabapliam, yet, to give them their due,UieT
did abundance of good to the church. Theyiavnl
many a congregation from ignorant, uu^iir,
drunken teachera— the sort of men that intendeil
no more in the ministry than to say a sermon m
readers say their common prayers, and to patcb
up a few words together to Lil k the people asliep
with on Sunday, and all the rest of the week u>
go witli them to the ale-house, and harden Ihtm
in their sin; and that sort of miuiaterstbatrithn
preached against a holy life, or preached as nan
that never were acquainted with it. All thoM
who used the ministry but si a common trade U
live by were never likely to convert a soul ; lU
these they usually rejected; and in their atead
they admitted any that were able, serious preacli-
ers, and lived a godly life, of what tuleralle
opinion soever they were. So that, though th^n
were many of them somewhat partial fuT the In
dependents, Separatists, Fifth Monarchy Meri,xii<l
Anabaptists, and agaiuat the Prelatials and Ar-
miniana, so great was the benefit above the hurt
which they brought to the church, that nunj
tliousands of souls blessed God for the faithful
ministers whom they let in, and giieved whni
the Prelatiats afterwards cast them out again.''
Hitherto we have confined our notice chiefly to
the Presbyterians, and their rivals the Indepen-
dents, the two leading forms in which the EaS-
lish Puritanism was manifested when the flmt
stru^le for civil and religious liberty hxd rani-
menced. It was impossible, however, when tit
spirit of inquiry was abroad, that it would con-
tent itself with such limitations; and although
the sectaries were numerous, they were also raju-
puratively little known, until the re-modelUu£ of
the army called them from obscurity, anil ll«
uuivBisal toleration gave them full liberty irf «■
tion. One of the wonders of the age was, (i>*t
an army composed of such strange and diKOf
dant elements, could be so coherently and firmli
united; that prewhing generals and praying W
expounding captains could be such wire effective
lendera, and bnve chivalrous warriors; and thit
such mystagoguca na Vane, Cromwell, andolhen.
whose religious views weie apparently incoiopre-
hensible, and their rhapsodies unintelligible ev«n
by themitclves, should yet have seen ao clearly.
and acted so wisely and calmly, when great )»-
litical interests wei« at stake. But the hislori
of the sectarianism of the period is too imporlanl
as well as too multifarious fur a passing nolit'e.
and niay therefore be deferred to the period et
the Restoration, in which it still continued m

,v Google

A.D. 160a— 1880.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

CHAPTER XIX.— HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

FROU THE ACCESSION OF JAMES I. (A.D. ISOS), TO THE BEBTORATIOM (A.D. I860)

Chang* produoBd in Engluid by the Bafamiation — BUa at PDiitJuiinD~Tinitold abandtr of Engliib lodMy «t
tbii period (fanm^ laligioui diranitica — EffoeU of PuriUniBa npoD tb< militarj ipirit^-ContrMt betwaan
the Fariten ud TOjiallit Kildian at the cloia of the Civil irai — Slow jnogna of English commem— Trading
com]»iura of the period — BankiDg—Poatage and pcxt-offieca — Agiicultnre— Kural life— Rapid incrauc of tho
LoiidDD population— Canaea of the inoreaie — Attempt* to check it — Oiowth of Londoo — Fopolation of ila
different diitricti — Oraat resort of St. Paul'a Walk— Other pUeca of public concourae — Placea of priTate
■Kgnatiiui and fotiviij— Coaraenan and diiconifoTt of meiTopoHtaD Ufa — Haoknej coacbaa — Complaiota
against them — Faihionable life in Ixindon — Ita atjle illuatratod by Lad; Coinpton'i letter — Atl«Ddaata and
retinnea of noble familiaa— Dreaa — Coitiuna of gentlemen— ExtntragaDt draaaea of the royal favooritei —
LoTe-looka — Baardi — Omamenta— Hilitary foppery — Patehaa introdocad by military pretendera — Coxcomb^
— Contraai to the praralant taahiona in the drMB and manngra of tha Puritana — Effeeta of London faihiooa on
the mral gantry — Baeeipt for converting a cooEtry aqniTa into a town gentlanian^ — Tha mercantile community
—Their mannan and mode of living—Their martial ipiiit at the commencement of the Civil war— AUatiana
and bnlliea — Highwaymen of tha period — London thiarca and ont-pnraea — Onaroni dntiea of the London
magiatralaa — Domaitia life of the pariod — Cookery — Incraae of intemperance in drinking — A itate banquet
and maaqueof JaBies I. and tha King of Denmark — Sporta of the period— A veraion of King Jamaa to military
■porta — Haaqnei^ Active «port»— London amnaementa— Gamea of the lower ordeia — Cromwell') enconngemaot
of manly iporti — Commenosmant of coach-driving aa an English amoaement — Introduction of the regular
drama into England — London plaj-houHe— -Their rude and naked condition — Their daya and boon for meet-
ing—A play-houae audience of the period — Criticiam of the theatre and mode of ita eipieauon — Education —
Study of philoaophy added to that of langnagaa— Cultivation of the fine arte promoted t^ Charlee I.— Military
eiaoiwe a part of edocatioa— Education fiuiahed by travelling— Sestrictioiia ioipowd on Engliah touiiat*—
PiogrcH of the national Utataturc— Dramatic poetry — Early dtamatio wrilen — Harlow — Sh^apeare — Chief
evanla in hia Ufa — The Mermaid Club — Bon Jonaoo — Beaumont and Flatebar — Haaainger — Webetar — Heywood
— Tha itage luppreaaed by the Puritana — Poritan poeta — Cavalier poeta — Liteiaiy and aoientific mem of the
pariod— Eminent ohurobmen — Diatingniahad Scotchman of the period— Sir Willuun Drmnmond — Kapier of
Marcbiaton— David Caldarwood— Robert Baillie— Alexander Hendeiaon, Jtc.

S we have already seen, the ad-
veut of the Reformation, which bo
greatly changed the politiod and
moral aspect of Europe, had an
especially ponerfnl effect upoo the
condiUon of Eugland. There it
found a cougeniol soil, and soon took root and
floumhed. The character of the people — oo re-
flective and Btable — ao iutrepid in inveetigatiou
and eo eager for progreu — was better adapUd
for the doctrines of Luther and the Refomiera
than even the countries in which thej had ori-
ginated ; and hence England quickly became, aa
it has erer since continued to be, beyond all
others, a Protestant country. lu such a condi-
tion, something more than merely the religious
faith of the people was cert^n to be changed and
improved. The ardent spirit of inquiry, now
fully aroused, instead of confining itself to theo-
logical investigaUons, advanced into the prin-
ciples of government, law, literature, and social
prc^esa; and in each of these departments the
effete or the time-honoured corruptions of past
agM, were assuled by the same mighty out-
burst that bad shaken the seven-hilled City to
its foundation, and swept its dominion from oar
island. Monastic superstition, mediteval pedan-

try, feudal tyranny, and regal oppressiou, were
all BQcceasively overtaken by the irresietible on-
set; and each in turn waa compelled to yield,
or submit to be crushed and exterminated. It
needed, indeed, no peculiarly prophetic sagacity
to foresee such a coneequence, let the teachers,
legislators, and rulers of the nation be what they
might, or act as they pleased. The first step in
this great march of emancipation was the re-
jection of Feter's-pence ; the last, that of afaip-
rooney; and the latter act was nothing roore than
a natural consequence of the former. The king
might easily have guessed that he scarcely could
succeed where even a pontiff had failed.

The moat important episode in this general pro-
gress is formed by the history of English Puri-
tanism. At the commencement of the Reforma-
tion in England, the royal power that would
have been inadequate to arrest the movement,
more wisely resolved to head it, and both Henry
VIII. and his illustrious daughter stood forth as
the crowned and anointed champions of Protes-
tantism. This support, however, was not to be
vouchsafed for nought, and, accordin^y, in for-
mulating the new Froteatont church in England,
the reforming sovereigns t4x>k care of their own
interests by moulding it into a monarchy of which ■

Cioogle

620

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

(3oc

L State.

tliemselvee, iaatead of the deposed poiililT, should
be the head. In accomplishiiig this purpose,
therefore, the old polity and form were aa mach
ae possible retained, and the king continued to
gOTera through a hierarchy of his own creation,
and dependent upon his favour. But this check
the new Hpirit of inquiry was little disposed to
tolerate; it was regarded both as a stopping-short
at half meaaiires and a sinful comprumise; and
those who sought b full, instead of a partial re-
formation, demanded the enfranchisement of the
church from kings as well as popes, and the
abolition of the ceremuiiial as wall as the creed
of Rome. The church was to be a theocracy,
of wliich its Divine Head was to be the only
ruler, and His revealed will the only statute-book
and directory. Such was the demand of those
who were derisively called Puritans, and whose
appeai-ance was altogether, or all but coeval with
the origin of the Anglicaji church. In spite of
contempt, and even of persecution, they con-
tinued to increaae in numbers and consequence,
BO that during the present period English society
was divided into two parties, differing not only
in certain points of religious belief, but in ritual
and form of worship, in literary and intellectual
character, even iu modes of daily life, style of
conversation, domestic usages, dress, and de-
meanour. Thus England, during the reigns of
James I. and his immediate succeasoTs, presented
two different forms of national life, character,
and customs, as if they had belonged to two en-
tirely different and even hostile races. It was
impossible tiiot such antagonistic divisions of
society could long go onward side by side; a
separation, and finally a liostile coliiaion, were
iuevitablo, and these upon questions not only of
religious but also of civil liberty. When the
war commenced, it was then that the opposite
character of the two parties was brought out into
strong relief, and the question placed at issue
as to which of them was worthiest and fittest to
predominate. The trial and its result have al-
ready been fully detailed.

When England was thus converted into one
great battle-field of civil warfare, during which
the characters of men were brought out and their
powers exerted to the uttermost, it is interesting
to mark the hostile elements which were thus
arrayed ngainst each other for the destruction or
regeneration of a couutry already great and in-
fluentiali and which, according to the issue, was
likelyto attain the first tank, or sink into a mare
third or fourth-rate nation. AU, at first, boded
the utter suppression of the Puritans, who were
worsted in every encounter. Their ranks wei-o
chiefly composoil of devout men who had been
wont to put little faith in an arm of flesh, and
industrious shopkeepers and artisans, to whom

warlike weapons had hitherto been strangers, and
military discipline unknown ; while upon the
other side was all tlie highborn spirit and chiv-
alry of the land, combined with the military ex-
perience that had been acquired iu foreign travel
and adventure. This di&rence, which Oom-
well's sagacity detected at a glance, he thus ex-
plained in a letter to his kinsman, Hamjiden: —
" Tour troops," lie said, " are most of them de-
cayed serving-men and tapsters, and such kind
of fellows; the king's forces are composed of
gentlemen's younger sons and persons of good
quality; and do you think that the mean spirita
of such base and low fellows as ours will ever be
able to encounter gentlemen that have honoar,
and courage, and resolution in them } You must
get men of spirit; and take it not ill that I say,
of a spirit that is likelyto go as far as gentlemen
will go, or else I am sure you will still be beaten,
as you have hitherto been, in every encoimter.*
Cromwell, who thus detected the evil, knew not
only the remedy, but the right way of applying
it. He could not convert the tapstera into chiv-
alrous knights, or the decayed serving-men into
gentlemen, but he could do more; he could kindle
within them that religious Puritan enthusiaara
that would carry them as far, or even farther,
thaii any earthly inspiration, where a brave deed
was to be done that a righteous cause might be
established. On this principle he acted, and his
regiment of Ironsides were at once the bravest
and the most devout soldiers that ever England
had produced. The same principle became gene-
ral throughout the parliamentary army, aud the
enthusiastic elevated spirit of its soldiery was
soon more than a match for the utmost of Cava^
lier loyalty, devotedness, and military daring.
Aud more interesting still was the contrast af-
forded by the two parties when the war was
ended. The high-bom Cavalier who, during the
trying changes of the campaign, had degenerated
into a reckless desperado, careful of nothing but
good quarters, pay, and plunder, was fiun to sink
into a mere hanger-on or led-cuptain, if he did
not become a soldier of fortune, or even a high-
wayman. But thesoldiers of the Commonwealth,
after havingattained the highest renown in arms,
and made the world ring with their exploits, con-
tentedly retired to their farms or their shops, and
resumed their original calling and its peaceful
spirit as if no interruption hail occurred. Tliay
had gone forth under a higher call than that of
military glory, and accomplished a righteous task
whose approval was better tiiou anything which
fame could bestow. Such a spirit, even when
the reaction came by which royalty was restored,
was not to be tampered with; but the Stuarts
forgot the lesson, and full dearly abode the pen-
alty. Enlightened and improved by past eKpert-

Dinitiz..byGoOQle

,) 1603-

niSTOBY OF SOCIETY.

euce, Puritanisni once more stepped forward to
work out the great problem of civil aad reli|pouB
liberty, upon which it had been employed for
nearly two centurioa; and the result waa the es-
tabliahment of a new order of things under a
tolerant church and a limited monarchy.

During this period, the commercial progreaa of
England scarcely fulfilled the promise which it
had given during the reign of Elisabeth. For
this several causes might be easily aasigned. In
Holland our commerce found a formidable rival,
-with whose pertinacious industry, skill, and com-
mercial enterprise, England as yet was unable
to compete. The late wars with Spain and Por-
tugal had, in a great measure, shut up the ports
of these countries against the introduction of
English produce. The grants of pat«Dts and
monopolies upon several articles of commerce— a
mode of rewarding favourites or cancetling obli-
gations which Elizabeth and her father had reck-
oned a cheap substitute for draughts upon the
royal treasury — were greatly increased by the
weakness and yielding spirit of James I,, and the
pecuniary necessities of his unfortunate succes-
sor. But the last and most especial cause by
which the progress of English commerce was re-
tarded during this season, may be found in tlie
political troubles with which the country was
occupied, and the civil war that followed. The
chief trade still consisted in native wool, which
continued to be iu higher estimation than that
of any other country; and woollen cloths, which,
ill spite of their superior material, were so im-
perfectly dyed and dressed that they were sold
at a considerable discount as compared with the
rate of foreign goods. The important work of
colonization, however, still went onward iu spite
of the rival opposition of the French and Dutch,
and especially in South and North America, to
which the tide of Puritan emigration was priuci-
pally directeil, before the Puritans found that
flight might t>e successfully exchanged for re-
sistance.

The present period was an important eta, of
trading companies in England. Of these the fol-
lowing brief enumeration may he given. The first
in importance was the "East India Company,"
originally chartered on the 3let December, l&Kl.
The company traded to Persia, India, and Arabia,
from which its chief iuiports into England were
spices, cotton, silks, rice, perfumes, rich woods,
and precious Htonus. Next may be mentioned
the "Turkey Company," whose exports were
£uglish cloths and Indian spices, indigo and
calicoes, and tliat imported in return, raw silk,
cotton, drugs, dried fruits, and oils. The third in
the li^4t, as given fay a writer of the period, was
the " Ancient Company of Merchant Adven-
turers," This company supplied the cities of

Hamburg, Rotterdam, aud several towns in the
Netherlands, chiefly with English cloth, and im-
ported the principal commodities of Netherland

ig br Vartiu, li

.^-.f*,.

manufacture. The "Eastland," or "Muscovy
Company," had English cloth for its chief ar-
ticle of export, besides which are enumerated
tin, lead, Indian apices, and several other south-
em commodities, and brought, in return, hemp,
pitch, rosin, hides, furs, copper, steel, quicksilver,
timber for ship-bultding, rye, and other such
productions of the country. Such were the prin-
cipal trading companies in EIngland, besides the
enterprises of private companies and individual
adventurers, who selected those marts iu which
the greatest profits were to be found.

The facilities afforded for prompt and aafe
mercantile transactions were, during this period,
considerably enlarged. This, indeed, was to be
expected from the result of past mercantile ex-
perience, as well as the certain prospect of future
prosperity. The religious hatred to large inte-
rest upon money, under the name of usury, had
BO greatly increased, probably under the grow-
ing ascendency of the Puritan spirit, that tho
former rate of ten per cent., which had been
fixed by statute during the reigns of Henry VIII,
and Eiiiabeth, was reduced, in 1624, to eight per
cent, and in 1691 to six per cent. A still more
important improvement was the introduction of
regular banking. Hitherto the Loudon merehants
had been wont to commit their money to tha

»Google

622

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statk.

custody of the Boyal Mint io the Toner, until
tlie arbitrary seizure by Chaflea I., through the
preMure of his pecuniary difficulties, of X200,000
of this deposit, under the gentle name of & loan,
convinced the merchants thnt a royal fortress waa
sot the safest of securities. They then tried the
experiment of intrusting their clerka and 'pren-
tices with the keeping of their cash, probably ss
being less liable to such arbitrary demands; but
London dissipation made too many of these young
beepers unMthful to their trust; and on the out-
break of the Civil war they were wont to escape
an awkward reckoning by enlistment in the con-
tending armies. Safer cashien were then found
in the Loudon goldsmiths, whose hands were
more conversant with the temptations of the
precious metals, and less liable to infection; and
thus the goldsmiths, hitherto mere artificers, roes
into wealthy and consequential bankers. In
this way they became the depositories of mer-
cantile capital and lauded rentals, for which they
allowed the usual per-centage, and became so
wealthy Bs materially to influence the movements
of the state by the readiness of their accommo-
dations. The only wonder is, however, that the
principle of banking, which had been so long in
use io the mercantile stat«s of Italy, and was so
aystematicatly carried on by the Dutch, should
have been so late in finding an entrance into
England. Another improvement, not only of
mercantile, but universal benefit during this
period, wss the establishment of a regular inter-
nal postage. A foreign post had been established
by James I. for the accommodation of English
merchants in their transactions with the conti-
nental marts; but the means of home correspon-
dence were wanting till 1835, when a home poet-
ofBce was established by Charles I. Its first
object was the maintenance of communication
between England and Scotland, which was ef-
fected by a post running night and day between
London and Edinburgh, and accomplishing the
journey in three days, delivering letters at the
int«rmediat« towns by the way; and soon after-
wards other by-posts, branching from the main
line, were multiplied, until the principle was
fiually extended over the whole United Kingdom.
The letters thus conveyed were carried on horse-
back; and if only three days were occupied in
their transit from London to Edinburgh, it must
have been at the expenditure of much horse flesh,
as well as hard and merciless riding.

The agriculture of England during this period
of uncertainty and civil war was so liable to
interruption, and so slow in its progress, as to
require no further notice tor the present. The
like may be said of the rur^ population, whose
improvement had been retarded by the same
MOSM, and whose habita and modes of life re-

mained nearly tiie same as they had been during
the preceding period of our histoiy. The chief
changes, indeed, that had occurred in country life,
were to be found in the mansions of the noble and
wealthy, where a greater desire of comfort, and
better taste in the seleetion of the means, were
apparent. These were chiefly to be found in less
clumsy articles of furniture, a greater amount'
of carpeting and painted ceilings, a rich display
of pfuntings upon the walls, the productions of
the great foreign masters of the period, and the
plentiful introduction of graceful china-ware, in
lien of the unshapely pottery of the preceding
age. But it was in London that the great moral
and political influence of the kingdom was now
chiefly contained ; and there that principle of cen-
tralization had commenced in fuU vigour, which,
in the present day, is viewed with so much alann.
The action of this principle can easily be found
in the spirit and exigencies of the age. Hen hut
lately awakened to a sense of their own import-
ance and politics! rights, were enger to repair to
the seat of government, to watch its proceedings,
and, if need should be, to resist its aggressions;
while such a concourse was sure to be followed
by the dissolnt« in pursuit of pleasure, and th«
needy in quest of gain. Each man of these
severe classes had now discovered, not only that
the metropolis was a place worth living in, but
that it was his proper home.

This rapid extension of London, and dispro-
portionate increase of its population as compared
witii other towns, soon excited the royal appre-
hensiou; here was a hostile encampment around
the very wallsof the sovereign's palace; taimpe-
rium in imperio, by which his movements could
be watched, and his authority held in check.
Elizabeth therefore endeavoured to arrest this
rapid growth; but her proclamations to that ef-
fect were as fruitless as the commands of Canute
to the waves, when they dashed against his feet,
and overthrew the royal chair. On the accession
of James I. these proclamations were repealed,
and not content with these alone, he set himself
in good earnest to prevent tlie growth of metro-
politan streets and houses both by remonstt«neo
and interference. Alarmed at the concourse of
the nobility to the city, where they now wero
wont to establish their permanent residence, he
endeavoured to pique their pride into a retnm
to their own estates, by telling them that in the
country they were like ships in a river, that
showed like something; while in Londun, they
were like ships at wa, that showed like nothing.
He endeavoured also to prevent the slarmlngemi-
gration of his old subjects, the Scots, tn the gain-
ful metropolis of the south, by prohibitions of
their arrival, and the imposition of heavy finea
npon the skippers who brought them by Ma. But

»Google

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

623

liis Htr&ngeBt plan of all wae, to weed the Lon-
don population bj tranaplsnting whole colonies
of them into the wilds of Scotland, where they
could hnve grouod enough to till if they had but
courage to attempt it. Perh&pa it is uimeceaMiry
to add, that this choice Bcheue wa« never re-
ducnl to practice. When the pressure upon the
Beat of government l>ecBnie more alarming in the
reign of Oharlee I., the efforta to check the ap-
prehended danger were increased. Xhua, bj one
proclamatioa in 1631), no new house was to be
erected, or new foundation laid in London or
Westminster, or in any place within three miles
of the gates of the capital, and no new inmates
received into the honses already existing — alleg-
ing, aa a reason for this strictness, the danger of
an increase of the population to such a degree,
that it would be impossible to govern or feed
them. Two years afterwards, a similar procla-
mation was emitted, which was chiefly directed
against the nobility and gentry, who were com-
manded, or at least advised to reside upon their
estates, as their residence in London waat«d their
property, enriched other countries by the impoi^
tation of foreign luxuries, and gathered throngs
of idle retainers and hanger»on into London and
Westroinnter, to the embiuTaasmeut of govern-
ment, the increase of poor-rates, and rise in the
price of provisions.

The city whose growth was thus so porten-
tous, and which royal edicts in vain attempted to

Llltla Mwnltldi.— Fmi

check, must have presented at this time an ap-
|iearance almost incomprehensible to a modem
Londoner. According to the maps, it covered a

vei7 large extent of ground, composed of clusters
of streets and lanes, with lai^ spaces of waste
ground iutersperaed belweeu—but spaces whose
formidable hungry yawn announced that they
would soon be filled. Thus, about the beginning
of this period, Finsbury was a pleasant rural dis-
trict, covered with trees and wind-mills; Moor-
fields was also part of the country, reaching to
Moorgate; and from the Archery Ground to Is-
lington were nothiiig but meadows, upon which a.
whole army of civic pikemen found ample I'oom
fordrill. In like manner, St. Giles was isolated,
until it was connected with the city about the com-
mencement of the Civil war; and as for London
and WestmiuBter, they still stood a mile a{iart,
until after the reign of James I., when Scottish
emigrants, who had repaired thitJier as to a
Goshen of safety, established a connecting link
between the two cities. Closer still to the centre,
and within the bars of London, were also large
detached spaces that remained unfilled till after
the great fire. Such was the city which, after
tittle more than two centuries, was to equal Rome
or Babylon in popaUtiou and extent, and surpass
thero in wealth — a mighty congeries of fragments,
in which the processes ot closiug aud extending
were going on simultaneously, and with a rapi-
dity that indicated the commencemeot of a new
hfe in the history of civilization. But to this
brief general outline, we may add a few of those
distinctive features by which the aspect of Lon-
don was individualized. High Hoi bom and
Drury Lune were the favourite site of noblemen's
and gentlemen's houses ; and the Strand was the
fashionable resort for ladies, through which they
passed in their carriages to the china shops and
the Exchange, in quest of choice gay purchasex,
while their gallants took lodgings in the same
quarter, that they might be in the way of meet-
ing them in their passing by. Merchants resided
chiefly between Temple Bar and the Exchange.
Fleet Street and Fleet Bridge were the great
resort for puppet-shows, which, at that time,
were fashionable Hpectacles, and, under the name
of "motions,' were eagerly frequented. Some-
timee the exhibition was of a scriptural character,
as in the advertisement of a " new motion of the
city ot Nineveh, with Jonas and the whale;" and
sometimes political, in which the Cavaliers or '
Roundheads were to be ridiculed, according aa
either party might happen to predominate. The
small lanes branching from Cannon Street to-
wards the river, were selected by the Puritans on
account of a safe retirement for their dwelling-
places and conventicleft, by which they avoided the
persecutions to which they were exposed; and for
a similar reason, the Jesuits appear to have se-
lected tiieir lurking-pUces in the obecure pnrlieux
of Clerkenwell,andfrom these recesses theyisBued

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statb.

dingy laneR ajid alleys, that stretchad along the
hank of tlie river, and there could either hol>l
the messengers of justice at defiance by strength
of nnoibeTs, or make their escape by land or
water if their offences were too rank for Alsatian
privileges.

But of alt the places of public and raiacelU-
neons resort, nothing was to be compared to the
stately middle aisle of St. Paul's Church, which
speedily became the great central point of meet-
ing to the whole London population, and where
a specimen of every class, character, and occupa-
tion was sure to be found. As such a kind of
congress is now among the thiugs that were, we
extnwt the following vivid accouut of it as it ap-
peared in 1628, from Bishop Ekrle's J/iaroootmo-
grapAie:~"It is the land'i epitome, or you niay
call it the lesser iale of Gi'eat Britain, It is more
tliau this — the whole world's map, whicli yon
may here discern in its perfecCest motion, just-
ling and turning. It is a heap of stones and men,
with a vast coufuuon of languages; and, wem
the steeple not sanctified, nothing Hker Babel.
The noise in it is like that of bees — a atrango
humming or buzz, mixed of walking, tongues an<l
feet. It is a kind of still roar or loud whisper.
It ia the great exchange of all discourse, and uo
business whatsoever but is here stirring and
afoot. It is the synod of all pates politic, jointeil
and laid together in the most serious posture ;
and tliey are not lialf so busy at the parliament.
It is the antic of tails to tiuls, and backs to backs,
and for vizards you need go no further than
(aces. It is the market of young lecturers, whom
, you may cheapen here at all rates and sizes. It
is the general mint of all famous lies, which are
here, like the legends of Popery, first coined and
stamped in the churcli. All inventions are emp-
tied here, and not a few pockets. The best sign
of a temple in it is that it is the thieves' sanctu-
ary, which rob more safely in a crowd tlian a
wilderness, whilst every searcher ia a bush to
hide them. It is the cars' brothel, and satisfies
their lust and itch. The visitants ai-e all men
without exceptions; bii^ the principal inhabitants
and possessors are state knights and captains out
of service — men of long rapiers and breeches —
which after all turn merchants here, and trafTic
for news. Some make it a preface to their din-
ner, and travel for a stomach; but thrifty men
make it their ordiuary, and hoard here very
cheap. Of all such places it is least haunted
with hobgoblins, for if a ghost would wntk, more
he could not." Leaning against a pillar, and
quietly surveying this motley scene (or the pur-
pose o( stereotyping its characters to future age'*,
may we not imagine the obaervant eyes of Ben
Jonson, or even of Shakspeare himself, fixed in
earnest attention 7 Here were assembled the

»Google

A.D. 1603-1660.1

HISTORY OF SOCIETV.

625

manners, the coatume, the very penona whom <
they delineated with snch life-like accuracy mid I
variety. To Earle'i account we may adil, that
these meetings "at Paule'a" were not always for i
the purposes of gos-
tiiping, for it was here
that same of the most
flerioiis state coDspira-
cieawere deviaed. The
usual hours for public
resort were from
eleven to twelve at
110011, and from three
to SIX in the evening;
and unltss a person
ivas a " Paul'a man,"
or"Paurs walker," he
waH held in little ac-
count. Next to this
great emporium of
idleness, was the Ex-
(.'hange, of which llie
upper }jart, called "the
Pttwne," reaemliled
i«)me Eastern bazaar,
where all the wealth
of a country is uaualty
a-isernbled. The place
was Ri fashionable re-
sort, kept open till

and ten in the win-
ter; and many whose occupation was nothing.
Imt lounging, were wont to spend the evening ',
\tcre, after a post-prandial visit to Paul's. And
well indeed was it fitted to give wings to the i
weary hours, from the following account of it I
liy Siimiiel Rolle, before the great fire in whicli
nncient Lojulon was swept away : — " What arti- !
iii-ial thing," he exclaims, "could entertain the i
Heii^eA, the fantasies of men, that was not there |
to be hiidF Such was the delight that many
gallants took in that mngazine of all curious '
varieties, that they could almost have dwelt there '
(t;oing from shop U) shop like bees from flower to |
llowei'). If they had but had a fountain of j
money that could not have been drawn dry, I .
iloubt not but a Mahoniniedan (who never ex-
[lects other than sensual delights) would gladly
liave availed himself of that place, and the trea- |
sures of it, for his heaven, and thought there '
were none like it." In allusion to the pleasure- |
hunting but penniless gallants who made Paul's i
and the Exchange their favourite haunts, the
following epigram was written in 1628 : —

FornRcii with l>

Id Hit pnnat^ pockita lii

Independently of these places of public concourse,
the^lantryof the period had established for
itself more private places of resort, where as-
signations could be formed, and love-vows uttereil
without interruption.
A favourite out-of-
door place of this de-
scription was Spring
Garden, which, how-
ever, became so prol i fiu
in licentiousness, that
after being in vogue
during the reigns of
James I. and Charles
I., it was shut up dur-
ing the stem and de-
corous protectorate of
Cromwell. The shops
of milliners and [ler-
fumers,indepeudently
of their ostensible
crafts, were also used
for places of private
meeting among the
fashionable of both
aexes-and of this de-
scription was the resi-
dence of Mrs. Anne
Turner, who, while
she openly drove a
.'a.— FrouiprlBlbxHotlU' gainful trade in the

making of starch for
the ladies of the court, was covertly an in-
triguer and procuress, until she ended her career-
on the scaffold for the poisoning of Sir Tho-
mas Overbury. But even these demure con-
veniences were not enough for the coarse and
rampant gallantry of the period; and the London
taverns, which now amounted to a fearful nuni-
ber, were used fortlie same purpouea, where, in a
deep atmosphere of tobacco smoke, and ainidst a
storm of oaths, ribaldry, and hard drinking, the
fashionable of both sexes wei'e often to W found,
aa partners in these foul revelriea. This was
viewed with astonishment by foreign visitors,
who were already learning to elevate, if not to
purify iiiiipiity, by divesting it of its rejiulsivc
groasness. The dramatists of tliis period, who
faithfully copied its most striking features, need
not therefore be wondered at for so often laj'ing
their love-scenes and principal events in a corn-
Such was the general aspect ot the metropolis,
and the manner in which its population was
groui)ed over its whole extent. From the fore-
going sketch it will be seen, that as yet the Eng-
lishman had not learned to regard his house as
his castle, or even his home, and hence so mnrh
of his life was still spent in the open air; while

»Google

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Social State.

the meana of such iudulgeuce were alwaya be-
I'omiDg more contracted, until people at last were
thrust perforce into alleys, taverns, and coSee-
liouses, there to devise new plana of domestic
comfort, and iinug fireside intercourse, in better
liabitations of their onn. The bouses, indeed,
were for the moat part, so late as the seventeenth
ceDturr, in the same state as thej had been
100 years previous, and this, notwithstanding
the advance of civilization; and, therefore, until
the period of the great fire, they were still of
lath and plaster, and in apite of the patchings
they had undergone were nodding to their tail.
Government indeed interposed, but in vain, to
procure a capital worth; of snch a kingdom and
the new state of things, by commanding brick or
stone to be need in the street front of buildings:
of all demolitions, that of one's own house is the
last to which men will submit; and the wooden
habitations, with their gay but flimsy fronta of
stucco-work, still kept their ground, until the
sweeping conflagration reduced them to dust and

Hshes, and necessitated a new style of civic archi-
tecture. While Btich were the houses, the streets
also remained in their former condition — narrow,
crouked, and dark ; and, in spite of the enactments
about paving them, little better than choking
dust-funnels in summer, and moraMes in winter,
while kites and ravens, which were almost the
only scarengera, wer« cherished by the inhabi-

tants as public benefactors. In this state, the
plague was often attempted to be held at bay
by kindling large bonfires, but this was ineffec-
tual, until the cure was finally accomplished by
turning London itself into a bonfire, and destroy-
ing cause and effect together. Still, however,
the eWt had remakied long enough to confirm
thattmdancy to poftsianption, which even already
had IneoHe the nktional disease, and foreigners
could not'help remarking that incessant congh-
ing 'which was prevalent through all the streets
of London.

In this condition of tlie metropolitan highways,
and the increasing, taste of the people for assen)-
bliea and public meetings of every kind, the de-
sire for the meansof transit increased. It was no
wonder, thereforej that after the introduction of
coaches, which, as we have already seen, occur-
red in the reign of EIiz.-Lbeth, the innovation
should have been eagerly welcomed and widely
adopted. We accordingly find, that in 1623
there were twenty hackney coaches in London,
and that tbey multiplied with such rapi-
dity, that. only ten years afterwards go-
vernment took the alarm at their genet^
use, and endeavoured to limit it, upon the
plea that these carriages disturbed the ears
of king, q*een, and nobles, jostled horae and
foot passengers, tore up the streets and pave-
ments, and increased tlie price of hay and
horse provender. It was therefore ordered
"that no hackney or hired coaches be used
or suffered in London, Westminster, or the
suburbs thereof, except they be to ti«vel at
least three miles ont of the same; and also,
that no person shall go in a coach in the
said streets, except the owner of the coach
shall constantly keep up four able horses
for our (the king's) service when required."
But the time had gone by when such des-
potic edicts were of force; and Cromwell
himself was soon after to drive four-in-hand,
in Jehu fashion, through this forbidden
territory, and be capsized for his pains.
Scarcely had this innovation well com-
menced, when John Taylor, the watei^poet,
who plied a scull upon the Thames, exclaim-
ed, "They have undone my poor trade!"
Speaking of the coaches, he adds, "This in-
fernal swarm of trade-spillera have so over-
run the land, that we can get no living on the
water; for I dare truly aflirm, that every day in
any term, especially if the court be at Whitehall,
they do rob us of our livings, and carry five hun-
dred sixty fares daily from us." Alluding also to
the confusion produced by this startling civic re-
volution, he says, "I pray yon look into the streets,
and the chambers or lodgings in Fleet Street or
the Strand, how tbey are pestered with them

,v Google

i.a 1603-1660.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

627

(coaches), eapecially after a maak or a piny at the
court, where even the very euth quake* wid
trembles, the casementa shatter, tatter, and clat-
ter, and Bucb a confused noise is made, ao that n

COACan or thi tuie.— Fton itAlugi bji D.

maa can neither aleep, speak, hear, writ«, or eat
his dinner or aupper quiet for them," It was not
merely the watermen of London who regarded
this increase of hacka^y coaches with indigna-
tion; the carmen also, who had hitherto enjoyed

coarse vulgar sensuality of that of Jamea I., and
again, from that, to the severe and tomewbat
starched religious decorum of the Commonwealth
period, that the very abundance is overwhelming.
All we can do, sa in the case
of the principal localitiea of
London, is to divide its living
- -- , maSB into classes, and briefly

< . ' ~ , advert to the distinctive fea-

tures of each. And in com-
mencing with those of the
highest and wealthiest rank
of nobility, we fortunately
have a general sketch of the
mode of life in the following
letter of Ijkdy Compton to
her husband William, second
Lord Compton, aftei'wanis
Earl of Northampton. It
may be thought that she was
Homewhat extravagant iu
her demands; bat when it is
i*"V remembered that she was the

only child and heiress of "the
Hub Spenser," who died worth nearly a million,
her requirements were not so very unreasonable.
Thus writes the considerate female millionaire:--
" My sweet life : Now I have declared to yon my
mind for the settling of yoar state, I suppose
right of possession in the public that it were beat for me to bethink and consider
thoroughfares, were indignant at the intj^siou ' within myself what allowance were meeteat for
of these aristocratic-looking vehicles, which they toe. I pray and beseech you to grant to me, your
rudely denominated " hell-carts," and took plea- i most kind and loving wife, the sum of £2600,
sure iu overturuiug them into the kennel when quarterly to be paid. Also, I would, besides
they came into contact with their own heavy ' that allowance, have £600, quarterly to be p^d,
drays. As theee was so much complaint
both by royal edicts and popular mur-
mura against the street wear and tear, as
well as the noise, confusion, and danger
which some fifty or siity hackneys were
alleged to have occasioned, a gentler mode
of conveyance, hitherto used in foreign
countries, was introduced into London iu
the form of setlan^choirs, in the year 1634,
which were forthwith patroniEed by royal
patent — because, as it emphatically stated,
"the streets of London and Wesbninster
and their suburbs had been of late so
much encumbered with the unnecessary
multitude of coaches, that many of bis
majesty's subjects were thereby exposed
to great danger, and the necessary use of cartt>
and carriages for provisions was much hindered."
Such, in the days of JameB I. and his successor,
was the great capital of England : as for the
crowds that thronged aud eulivened it, so vast
was the variety as well as so individualized, and so
fi'equent were the changes from the stately chival-
rous decoruuanees of the Elizabethan period to the

CnitK.— FrolDtbabDiiUqiitoecif "CiiuhvidSHlui.">tnct(1ll3e>

for the performance of charitable works; and those
things I would not, neither will be, accountable
for. Also, I will have three horses for my own
saddle, that none shall dare to lend or bomw:
none lend but I, none borrow hut you. Also, I
would have two gentlewomen, lest one ahonid
be sick, or have some other let; also, believe it,
it is an uudecent thing for a gentlewoman to

»Google

628

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

Htoud mumping ftlone, whea God hath blessed
their lord and lady with a great estate. Aim,
when I ride a-huntiDg or a-hawking, or travel
from one house to another, I will have them at-
tending; so for either of these said women, 1
must and will have for either of thera a horse.
Also, I will have six or eight gentlemen; and
I will have my two coaches, one licied with vel-
vet to niynelt, with four very fair horses: and
a coach for my women, lined with cloth, and
liiced with gold, otherwise with scarlet, and laced
with silver, with four good horses. Also, I will
have two coachmen, one for my own coach, the
other for my women. Also, at any time when I
travel, I will be allowed not only caroches and
Hjiare horses for me and my women, but I will
have such carriages as shall be litting for all; or-
derly, not pestering my things with my women's,
nor theirs with either chamber-maids, uor theirs
with wash -maids. Also, for laundi*esseB, when I
travel, I will have them sent nway before with
the carriages, to see all safe. And the chamber-
maids I will have go before, that the chamber
may be ready, sweet, and clean. Also, for that
it is undecent to crowd up myself with my gen-
tleman usher in my coach, I will have him to
have a convenient horse, to at-
tend ine either in city or coun-
try. And I must have two foot-
men. And my desire is that
you defray all the charges (or
me. And for niyself, besides
my yearly allowance, I would
have twenty gowus of apparel,
six of them excellent good ones,
eight of them for the country,
and six other of tliem very ex-
cellent good ones. Also, I would
have to put iu my purse £SfilH\
and £200, and so you to pay
my debts. Also, I would have
ieooy to buy me jewels, and
£4000 to buy me a pearl pliain.
Now, seeing I have been, and
am, so reasonable unto you, 1 ^

pray you do find my children '

apparel and their schooling, and
all my serx-ants, men and women, their wages.
Also, I will have all my houses furnished, and
my lodging-chambers to be suited with all such
furniture as is lit, as lieds, stooM, chairs, suitable
cushions, and all things thereunto belonging.
Also, my desire is that you would pay your ilebls,
build up Ashley Hnuse, and purchase lands; and
lend no money, as you love God, to my lord-
chamberlain, who would have all, perhaps your
life from you, ... So, now that I have detlared i
to you what I would have, and what it is that I ,
would not have, I jiray you, when you be an earl, I

[Social State.
w desire, aod

to allow me £2000 more than I n
double attendance,"

The lady who thus queens it so royally, and
who mingles so much of her father's mercantile
calculation and exactness with her own costly de-
mands, gives us a pretty full sketch of the retinue
and arrangement of a noble household duriug the
earlier part of this period. Commensurate with
alt these gentlewomen and gentlemen ushers,
whose sole busiaess was to wait upon the lady,
was the list of the other attendants, which, in
the highest of such establishments, usually num-
bered from 100 to am. Of these, however, the
chief were not so much the mere servants, as
the retainers of their noble landlord, being the
younger sons of good families, who were supplied
with attendants and horses of their own, and who
gave their voluntary service for the patronage it
afforded them in their hopes of court advance-
ment. Among those gay gallants, however, who
bad not yet talcen to liousekeepiiig, and whose
Bote business was pleasure, or dancing attend-
ance upon the court, what Falstaff calls " French
thrift" waa introduced, in which a single "skir-
ted page " was suf&cient.

The style of dress during this period waa so

mutable in its fashion, and composed of so many
|>ortion8, that it can only be fully understood by
a reference to the dramatic writers, illustrated
by the works of the contemporary artists. In the
attire of gentlemen, the steeple-crowned hat had
now obtained the pre-eminence, sometimes wl-
omed with a richly-jewelled hat-band, and some-
times a plume of feathers,' The starched mff,

'1, Ftomnplinldnlodllll^ i. From »™ro print, hj ei««i«.

liv porljjiit of ItotA Buon» r

»Google

,D. 1G03-I660,]

HISTOEY OF SOCIETT.

629

duriug tbe reign of James I., Iind dwinUled into '
a neck-bund, called a piccadil, generally made
of satin; the jackets or doublets were short, stiff,
and plbntifuUy orDameuted with fanciful slaab-
i[igB and embmiiJery, and had fslse or hanging
sleeves like those of a modem hussar. As for
the hose during this reign, they had attained such
a balloon-like amplitude that, in the pictures of
James and Prince Henry, they can ecarcely be
regarded with ordiuary gravity; but afterwards
they settled into such loose or piniied-up alojia
as are still worn in some pai-ta nf the Continent,
and especially in llollund.' To these may be
added, stockings of silk and thread, instead of
woollen cloth, and pumps ornamented with rosea.
All this, however, can give lib little idea of the
costliness of material and extravagance of oi'iia-
ment with which this sliglit outline wna filled up,
and how often the man within was reduced to
nothingneKE) by the expense of liia exterior. These
ruinous consequences of extravagance in (iress
were greatly owing to James I., who, although
of such lailtish ungainly appearance, not only
affected gay attire himself, but was so captivateii
by comely well-dreased favourites, that every as-
pirant to royal approbation adopted Somerset
and Buckingham as their mndets.* The difficulty
of imitating this last exemplar, ami the fearful
expenditure it must have occasioned, may be
guessed from his court-dress cloak, set thick with
diamonds, valued at .£80,00(1; his plume or aig-
rette, made of large diamonds, and his hat-hand,
girdle, sword, aud spurs, set with diamonds all
over. Not leas conspicuous than any part of
dress or ornament were the love-locks of the gen-
tlemen, which are too well known to require de-
scription. But tbe beard was equally cared for;
and tbe different forms into which it was shorn,
shaven, and dressed, about the middle of this |
periml, would require a whole chapter for its |
own especial benefit. " How will yon l>e trim- I i
med, sir f says the barber in T.yly's " Midas." i
'■ Will you have your bpard like a spade or a (
bodkin I — a |>enthou8e on your upper lip, or an
alley on your chin ? — a low curl on your head, '
like a bull, or dangling locks like a spanieU —
your mustaches sharp at the ends like aboe-
makers' awls, or hanging down to your mouth
like goats' flakes I — your love-locks wreathed
with a silken twist, or shap!(^, to fall on your
shoulders?" Among the articles of foppery by
which tbe age was distinguished, are mentioneil
"the mirror iu the hat," the "gold cable hat-

band," the "Italian cnt-work band," the "em-
bossed prdle," the " niffle to the boot," and, above
all, the " wrought shirt." This last was a shirt
embroidered all over with fruits and flowers; and
the fashion ajipeara to have been so much in re-
quest that the Puritans themselves yielded to it
—compromising the matter so far, however, with
their consciences, as to have the shirt embroidereil
with texts of Scri)>ture. Much of the dandyism
of the day, as might be expected, was of a rough
military character, chiefly exhibite<l by shaggy
beards and hair, long trailing tucka, formidable
poniards and dudgeon daggers, and heavy clank-
ing boots; and to give theuiaelvea the appearancs
of veritable niartialints, these fiobadils often wore
jiatchea upon their faces cut into various forms,
as if they had just returned from the wsrs of the
Low Countries or Bohemia.' 8ome even went
so far in this affectation as to make one arm use-
less, by carrying it iu a sling. Strangely enough,
it was from these unpromising examples that
ladiea derived the fashion of pat^'hing, which
kept its ground through so many generations.

Opposite to these were a very numerous class ol
exquisites, whose delight it was to carry their
love of display to tbe utmost veige of effeminacy.

»Google

630

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Stats.

Their peraona glitteied with every kind of omK-
meat, their gloves and liDen breathed of perfume,
and their poclceta wei-e stored with biUet^ouz-^
the evideucea of late conquests — aad with boxea
of rich comlits, ou tlie strength
of which tbej attempted to make
more. They eveii went bo far aa
to heighten their comjilexiona with
rouge, that they miglit thua be com-
pletely irreatatible. Aguuat all
this eitravogaDve of dreaa, it was
no wonder tliat the Purit&us lifte^l
up, not only their teatimony, but
their example. Hence that de-
uureness of attire which, thougli
BO laughed at by contemporary
witliuga, would either be unnoticed
in the pi-eseut day, or be thought
n decent becoming dreas for a .
ataid citizen or country geutlenuui.
Their hata were unadorned with
either gold baud or plume; their
hair, instead of atreaming with „

luve-locka, waa closely cropped ;
while their dreaa, decorously fitted to the ahape,
and generally of a aol>er uniform colour, eschewed
the vanities of jewellery and every kind of orna-
ment. Even aa they passed along the street, also,
like clouds aeroua tlia gay glitter of sunshine,
their aolemn gait and demeanour not only distin-
guished them frutn the i-eat, but rebuked the sur-
rounding extravagance.

Of the female dress during the reign of Jamea
I., the pictures of the jieriod give but an indif-
ferent idea, either as to its comfort or graceful-
ness. From these we learu that the head-dresa,
besides being richly adorned with jewellery, was
surraounteil witli plumes; that the neck was
adorned with a large, broad, stiffened niff, which
rose like a pair of wings from the ahouldere to
the head; that the waist continued to be length-
ened and piuctieil, as in the previous reign, with
tight-laced, uiiyieldiugboddice, and that the hirge
round volume of fardiiigale followed, as if to set
off by contrast the slioinesa of the waist that anr-
mounted it. Such was the principal style of
female court attire, aa we learn from the portraita
of Anne of Denmark and tlie Countess of Sumer-
aet. To these eaaentiala of dress may be added a
visor, a muff of rich fur, and a fan of ostrich fea-
thers. Byincideutal notices we learn that the chief
dreaa of the citizens' wives and daughters were
grogram gowna, lined tliroughout with velvet, or
gowna ornamented with lace, and French hooda,
while silver Iiodkins were the chief oniaments.

As the stiff and pedantic costume of the period
of Jamea I. was so well suited to the chaj-acter
and tastes of that monarch, a change for the bet-
ter might have been expected under his accom-

plished son. The fastidious delicacy of Charles
I., and hia love of the fine arts, would scarcely
be expected to sympathize with the padded and
buckramed doublets, hanging sleeves, huge cufis.

and stubborn tray-shaped ru^ that had delighted
the eyea of his father; and accordingly these
exaggerations were gradoally softened down or
abandoned, until the court costume, previous to
the commencement of the Civil war, had be-
come the most graceful which England had seen
for more than a century previous. The nature
of these improvements, also, are so well and so
generally understood from the portraits of Van-
dyke, and the engravings which have been made
of them, that little further notice on this head is
necessary. It is enough to mention that the
Dutch hoae became of considerably less ample
volume, and instead of lieiiig pinned-up into W-
toona, were allowed to hang loose below the knee,
where they were ornamented with ribbons or
points, or with fringes, and came in contact with
the laced or ruffled boot-tops; that the stiff ool-
kr now lay gncefully upon the breast and shoul-
ders, and was a becoming ornament of rich lace;
and that the doublet of silk or satin was fitted to
the form, while the sleeves, which were slashed,
were also opened more tlian half-length, to give
free scope to the arm. The cloolc, which was
now a abort one, was allowed to hang carelessly
from the left shoulder; and the beaver, which
had lost somewhat of its former primness, had
brims which could be looped up at the pleasure
of the wearer, and was surmounted by one or
more plumes. Add to these, the well-known
peaked beard and mustaches, which the example

»Google

HISTOHY OP SOCIETY.

(531

of Charles bad made faahionable, and the costume
of a CHV&lier of hie court wm completed. A eimi-
lar influence was exercised hj the queen upon
the cOBtUtue of the court ladies, as we may judge
from the portraits of the period, where we find
the beautiful high-bora damea of England dressed '

PcutAJf Cammra.— From print* of IMS and IMS, ud ttio t

according to the Fi'each taste and becomiiig cos-
tume which characterize the pictures of Henrietta
Maria. When Puritanism laid its arrest upon
vanity in clothing, the ladies of the party joined
their protest to that of tbeir mate partners, by
discarding flowing locks, gay embroidery, and
rich omameuta ; and nssuming a demure attire,
the chief peculiarity of which was a cap, a coif,
or a high-crowned hat, that covered the head
and half-concealed the countenance.

Such were the throngs with which the streets
of London, and eapecially the more fashionable
of thera, were crowded ; and thus were they
ripened for that terrible process of weeding which
commenced with the Civil war. We have already
adverted to the manner iu which this crowd was
daily augmented, by tlie eagerness of the rural
gentry either to visit the metropolis, or establish
in it a permauent lodgment. Sometime* the pre-
text was a lawsuit, and thua, during the law
terms, the Inns of Court were crowded with
country genttemenj sometimes love of the com-
monweal, which could be more carefully watched
in London than elsewhere; but in either case the
knight or squire seldom came singly, for his whole
family were equally eager to gaze upon the mar-
vels, and enjoy the pleasures of the metropolia
Thus it was that, according to the old song^

nuiiB

9W CuhioD. whm ChiirtdiH ii dnwini on.

>oun„

J U> Umdon itnlght w.

nut.Ul.1

ndl«

MkHphotM, btitoun.

irportMJo

norai

■rattaa

p>«. lib. thump OQU»

tlUkKlth

It was well for these pleasure-hunters if, after
having been absorbed into the vortex, and enjoy-
ing themselves to the full, they could still return

to the country, and there find a house to re-enter
and a few acres to occupy. But the " Rake's Pro-
gress," afterwards so powerfully delineated by the
great English moi-u! painter, had already exhi-
bited its worst aggravations, and the impover-
ished country gentleman was often fain to be-
take himself to the work of
a lackey, and follow the heels
of those with whom he Imd
formerly walked abreast.
The following satirical ndes
of Beii JonsoD, for converting

gentleman, give a faithful pic-
ture of one of tho!te modes in
which ancient families at this
time were wont to fall out of
theirrank,anddisnp]»arwith
Buch alarming frequency: —
"First, to be an acconiplishe'I
gentleman — that is, a gentle-
man of the time — you must
rt edition of Hndibnt. g'^'e over liousekeeping in the
country, and live altogether
in the city amongst gallants ; where, at your fii-st
appearance, 'twere good you turned four or five
acres of your best land into two or three tmnks
of apparel— you may do it without going to a
conjuror: and be snre you mix yourself still with
such as flourish in the spring of the fashion,
and are least popular [common]: study their
carriage and behaviour in all ; learn to play at
prtmero and passage, and ever (when you lose)
have two or three peculiar oaths to swear by,
that no man else swears; but, above all, pro-
test in your play, and affirm, ' Upon your
credit," ' As you are a true gentleman,' at every
cast: you may do it with a safe conscience, I
warrant you. . . . You must endeavour to feed
cleanly at your ordinary, sit melancholy, and
pick your teeth when you cannot speak ::and
when you come to plays be hVihiorous, look
witli St Rood starched faee, and ruffle your brow
like a new boot, langh at nothing but your own
jasta, or else oa the noblfimen laugh. Tliat's a
special grace, you must obtierve. . . . Vou must
pretend alliance with courtiers and great per-
sons ; and ever, when you are to dine or Blip in
any strange presence, hire a fellow with a great
chain (though it be copper it's no matter) to
bring your letters, feigned from such a noble-
man, or such a knight, or such a lady." Such a
training was a downward course, the end of
which was poverty and ruin. Even this, how-
ever, was but a gentle prelude, compared with
others which have been fully described by the
drnmatista of the period.

While such were the courtiers and fine gentle-
men previous to the commeucemcnt of the Civil

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social State.

war, the mercantile classes were closely treaUiug i
upon their heels, aud tlireat«ning to Buppkiit 1
them by their superior wealth and infltieuce. I
Still, indeed, the at'iBtocnicy preteuded to look
down upon them with disdain, while upon the
stage the English merchant waa made to take I
the place of the Italian pantaloon, ile was con- I
stantly reminded of his inferiority, aUo, by being ^
allowed to have uotlung better than a link car- i
ried before him, while the courtier whs lighted .
by a torch. But iu spite of all, these traffickers j
went on and prospered, until nt last they viu-
■licated their place as the most essential portion
of the British comniuuity. At this period shops,
for the luoBt part, were luiUry booths; and in-
stead of a signboard, the master or his 'prentice
p;iraued befoi-e the door, rehearsing a list of the
articles he sold, with the additional demand of
"What d'ye lack, sirC—" What d'ye lack, ma-
dam)" A shop of this kind, which survived the
great fire, just outside Temple Bar, will give a
tolerable idea of these early repositories of Lon-
don traJSc. The mercantile hours of business

and tluit they were conscious of possessing homes
a[id privileges that were well worth defeadiag.
This was shown by their readiness to repair to
the Artillery Ground for training when the Civil
war WHS impending; the facility with which tliey
accommodated themselves to the iucuuibrances
of steel head-pieoe, back, and breast plate-; ai)c)
the dexterity they acquired in handling pike and
matchlock ; so that awkward arrays of vuI^at
citizens and demure Puritaiin, at whose evolu-
tions the martial gentry condescended to lau^h.
became, in pi-ocess of time, nii army such aa
Home itoelf never surpassed. These men tbiia
showed tliat they were not to be overlooked, aud
that it might be dangei-ous to pFovoke them, ac-
cording to the declaration of the worthy gold-
smith in the old song of the CoujiiiT Scajle;^
" ' CVf London oitF I am &oa.

Wh*MTw tha l<r

Dnwu b) J. W. Arehw, from bi> ikstch on Cli« ipol.

on the Exchange were twelve o'clock a^, noon
and six in the evening; and at nine oVIock the
Bow bell mng the signal for citizens to leave off
work and prepare for supper and bed. Although
their calling was so raechauicnl, and so much
ilespised by the higher classes, yet the time
liad arrived when merchaiila, sliop-keejvers, and
'prentices were to show that their calling had
by no means interfered with their martial spirit,

Lower down in the scale of the London |>opii-
lation were many strange characters, whose chief
dwelling was Alsatia, and whose common period
nf action was that of darkness— men with whom
the streets swarmed so plentifully at night, that
the peaceful wayfarer was obliged to pick his
steps with circumspection, and be ready for con-
flict at the turning of every alley. These were
the Swashbucklers, whose only ocenpatiou wa.^
to force a quarrel or commit an assault wherever
it could be done with safety — and Portingale
captains, who had cruised as pirates against the
rich carracks of Portugal, under the comfortable
doctrine that no treaty of peace held good be-
yond the line — and other similar characters, who
were classed under the names of Roaring Boya,
Privadon, and Bouaventors. These men, the
refuse of every rank, and often stained with crime
as well as buried in debt, were frequently as
ready to cut a purse as a throat ; and as such, it
required the utmost exertions of the watch, as
well as the formidable war-cry of the 'jirenticen,
to prevent them from gaining an unlimited mid-
night ascendency, and sacking, it may be, the
whole city.

But in this lowest deep, a still lower deepwaa
to be found. Tliis consisted of the persons whose
Bole occupation was to prey upon society whether
by violence or cr&ft. Iu the reign of Eliiabeth

»Google

». 1603—1660.]

HISTOHY OF SOCIETY.

633

they had acquired mch boldneae, as on one occa-
Bion to beeet her coach near iBlingtou, so that
she nas obliged to send to the civic magiatratea
for bid; snd in the rescue that followed, not less
than seventj-five of these rogues were inclosed
in oue haul of the net of justice. Numerous
though they were, also, during her r«ign, they ap-
pear to have multiplied two-fold, partly through
the increased wealth of the next period, but
mainly, from the unsettled state of things that
both preceded and accomptuiied the Civil war.
Those whose practice was to rob on the high-
way, often travelled in formidable bands, mus-
tering from ten to two or three score persons,
armed with chacing- staves, which were heavy
long poles shod with an iron pike— with guns
and pistols, and even with bows and arrows. Tn
sneh cases, travelling was unsafe except in bands
equally numerous and well-armed, whose appear-
ance gave more promise of blows than booty.
Independently of their weapons, these robbers
were also frequently furnished with such ingeni-
ous disgaiaes, that they could transform not only
their own faces and persons, but eveu their horses,
and thus reduce the pursuit of justice to a non-
ploB. While the highways of England were thus
infested, the streets of London and the other
large cities were equally prolific of those who
had recourse to craft and cunning in the way
of shifting for their daily livelihood ; and under
the general names of cozeners, coney- catchers,
cut-purses, foysters, nippers, and other such ap-
pellations, they refined so much upon the differ-
ent modes of their occupation, that they com-
prised not less than twenty-two classes so early
as the time of Holinshed. Their dexterity also
was BQeh,thateventheirBnc«easors of the present
day appear hut bunglers in comparison, and not
a clever shift of modem thieving or swindling
can be mentioned, but was in full practice in
the reign of James I. Thus they had numerous
schools in the brick-kilns near Islington, and in
the Savoy, which were their favourite h&unte;
and there each pupil was trained in that mode
of conveying for which he was bestfitted, as well
as taught the language of his craft, which was
unintelligible to the uninitiated. In this way
the young piclipockete were accustomed to prac-
tise upon a purse suspended from the ceiling,
and garnished with little morrice-bells; and when
the tyro could empty it without causing one
warning tinkle, he was made free of his guild,
and accounted ripe tor street practice. Not
trusting also to mere adroitness of finger, they
were generally furnished with instruments for
cutting or hooking, made of the finest steel, and
by the best foreign artificers. It may eemlj be
judged, therefore, how perilous a common walk
in the streets of London must have been to those
Vol. II.

who had well-filled pockets, or tempting purses
dangling at their girdles; and how often the hue
and cry must have been raided in evety street
and alley. In the meanwhile, the office of a
magistrate was no sinecure; and the prisons of
London were usually over-crammed, until the

Fielding of the day, appears to have pursued his
vocation with peculiar zestj and his own notices
of hia feats in this way would overwhelm a whole
bench of modem magistracy with amazement.
When rogues were brought before him he gave
them "substantial payment," and if they ap-
peared a second time, he gave them " double pay-
ment." He presides at Newgate on « Friday in
the trial of certain"hor8e-deaIer8, cut-purses, and
such like,' to the number of ten, of whom nine
are hanged on the following day. After a Sab-
bath of rest, he starts afresh on Monday, in chase
of sundry " that were receptors of felons," of
whom he gives a good account. It was by such
indefatigable and merciless pursuit, and a con-
stant succession of executions, that he was able
to introduce a tolerable degree of security into
the streete of London and Westmioster, and the
highways by which they were surrounded.

In paBsing to the domestic living of this period,
we do not find that the accession of James had
any tendency to refine the coarse epicurism of
the courtiers and nobility. On the contrary, his
example seems only to have brutalized the sen-
suality, as well as increased the expense of ex-
travagant feasting. Whatever was costiy or rare,
no matter however revolting to the natural
palate, appears to have been still the criterion
of excellence in cookery; and a dish was little
valued, unless the simple material was be-spiced
and be-sngored, besides being enriched with
oranges, lemons, and dried fruit, or smothered
with'butter, cream, ambergris, and marrow. The
following is a sufficient specimen — and from the
unction with which the directions are given for
its preparation, it was no doubt reckoned a
" d^nty dish," even for royalty itself. It was
nothing more or less than a herring pie, of whidi
this was the construction : " Take salt herrings,
being watered; wash them between your hands,
and you shall loose the fish from the skin; take
off the skin whole, and lay them in a dish; then
have a pound of almond-paste ready; mince the
herrings and stamp them with the almond.paste,
two of the milts or roes, five or six dates, some
grated manchet, sugar, sack, rose-water, and
safRvn ; make the composition somewhat stiff, and
fill the akins; put butter in the bottom of your
pie, lay on the herring, and on them dates, goose-
berries, currants, barberries, and butter; close it
up, and bake it: being baked, liquor it with but.

,v Google

634

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Social State.

ter, verjuice, and BUgai-." Sir Epicare Mammon,
in Ben Jouaon'a " Alchemist,* speaks in the same
recondite vein of " the tongues of carps, dor-
mice, and camels' heels," and adds, among the
anticipated luxuries of Lis new style of life:—

Oii'd mwhraniw ; uid thd awflUlTig unctaofu paps

Of B bt pngnant icfw, naw\f ml air,

Dna'd with mn flxquiiltfl uA poignant ■wmr"

With a coarser kind of feeding, a more abundant
drinking was introduced bj Jamft, a practice
that was continued under his successor; for al-
though Charles I. was himself distinguished for
temperance, his followers were eager to show
their lojaltf and abhorrence of Puritanism hy the
frequency of their " healths," and depth of their
potations. Indeed, Elizabeth was scarcely cold
in her grave, when the arrival of the King of
Denmark and his courtiers, on a risit in 1606, so
changed the whole English court, that the Virgin
Queen would hare been unable to recognize the
stately decorous trsin by which she had been so
lately surroonded. An abundant proof of this is
^ven in Sir John Harrington's account of a state
festival and pageant, presented before the two
sovereigns at Theobalds; — "One day,' lie thus
writes to a friend, " a great feast was held, and
after dinner the representation of Solomon, his
temple, and the coming of the Queen of Sheba,
was made, or, I may better aay, was meant to
have been made, before their majesties, by de-
vice of the Earl of Salisbury and others. But,
alas ! as all earthly things do fall to poor mortals
in enjoyment, so did prove our presentment
hereof. The lady who did play the queen's part
did carry most precious gifts to both their ma-
jesties, but, forgetting the stejts arising to the
canopy, ovenet her caskets into his Danish ma-
jesty's lap, and fell at his feet, though 1 rather
think it was in his face. Much was the hurry
and confusion ; cloths and napkins were at hand
to make all clean. His majesty then got up and
would dance with the Queen of Sheba; but he
fell down, and humbled himself before her, and
was carried to an inner chamber, and laid ou a
bed of state, which was not a little defiled with
the presents of the queen which had been be-
stowed on his garments, such as wine, cream,
beverage, cakes, spices, and other good matters.
The entertainment and show went forward, and
mnat of the presenters went backward, or fell
down; wine did so occupy their upper chambers.
Now did appear in rich dress Faith, Hope, and
Charity: Hope did essay to speak, but wine ren-
dered her endeavours so feeble, that she with-
drew, and hoped the lung would excuse her
brevity : Faith was then alone, for I am certain

she was not joined with good worics, and left the
court in a staggering condition : Charity came to
the king's feet, and seemed to cover tiie multi-
tude of uns her sisters had committed; in some
sort she made obeisance, and brought gifts, but
said she would return home again, as there was
no gift which Heaven had not already given to
his majesty. She then returned to FMth and
Hope, who wei'e both sick ... in the lower hall.
Next came Victory in bright armour, and by a
strange medley of versification did endeavour to
make suit to the king. But Victory did not
triumph long; for after much lamentable utter-
ance, she was led away like a silly captive, and laid
to sleep in the outer stepe of the ante-chamber.
Now Peace did make entry, and strive to get
foremost to the king; but I grieve to tell how
great wrath she did discover unto those of her
attendants, and, much contrary to her semblance,
did rudely make war with her olive-branch, and
laid on the pates of those who did oppose her
coming."

This ridiculous show or pageant, iu which
noble personages were the actors, and sovereigns
the spectetore, fitiy introduces the sports of the
period, with those of the court at their head.
On the arrival of James in England, the chival-
rous character as well as stately decorum of the
days of Elizabeth were ended; the tilt-yard was
closed, and the " bruised ai-ms" of the English
nobles that had seenservice in the fieldaof France
and Scotland were "hung up for monuments."
This was but the natural consequence of his ma-
jesty's constitutional dread of weapon^ blows,
and bloodshedding; his coarse gibee at the steel
clothing,andcon3trainedmovementsofafully ac-
coutred knight ; his constant declamations against
war, and his pretensions to the tiUe of a second
Solomon, by being the most pacific, as well as
wisest of kings. Amaeqaewasbettersuitedtohis
taste; and as he was a pedant and theologian, it
required to be well stored with heathen gods and
Christian mysteries, however incongruons might
be the mixture. And all this while Ban Jonson
was at court, and Shakspeare upon the stage !
During the earlier part of Uie succeeding reign,
and while as yet a court ezist«d, these masques
underwent a change correspondent to the char-
acter of the new sovereign, being divested in a
great measure of their pedantic character, and
almost wholly of their grossness. At last, how-
ever, they became dangerous, by being made the
vehicles of that political discontent which so soon
afterwards ripened into civil war. Of the other
active sports, hunting and hawking enjoyed a
temporary revival in England from the example
of James I.; and tennis, which was the facourite
amusement of his son Prince Henry, became
also that of the courtiers. To these may be added

,v Google

A.i>. 1603—1660.]

HISTORY OP SOCIETY.

the athletic plaj of the wind-ball orfoUU, which
was now, however, in ita decline; and pall-mall,
which' waa onl^ coming into practice. Games of
& more aedentary character were daily becoming
more fashionable, such as bowla, billiards, cards,
nod dice. To these also may be added those
epectacles by which, in the abeeuco of the old
chivalrous Hports, the excitement produced by
strife and bloodshed could still be gratified; and
therefore all raoka had now become more eager
spectators than everof bull and bear baiting and
cock-fighting. Among the generality of London
citizens, besides games of chance, which were
now coming more into vogue from the disuse of
their former active and rural sports, there were the
recreations of the ordinary and club-room, with
balls, plays, dances, and musical entertainmentBi
lounging in the parks, which had now become
places of favourite public resort; excursions to
those rural villi^es that still were separated from
London by gardens and green fields; and compe-
titions in archery, which was now an amusement
and nothing more. Besides these, they still oc-
casionally indulged in the luxury of hunting, for
which their range was ample enough, as it com-
prised Middlesex, Hertfordshire, tiis Cbiltems,
and Kent, secured to them by charter, over which
they watched with jealous care. Of those lower
citizens of London who may be characterized as
the mob. Stow has mentioned their favourite
sports as consisting of football, wresUing, cudgel-
playing, nine-pins, shovel-board, cricket, stow-
ball, quoits, ringing of bells, pitching the bar,
bull and )>eai' tiaiting, throwing at cocks, and
lying at ale-house*. This last amusement, other-
wise called " lying for the whetstone," sometimes
mentioned by old English chronicles as common
both to town and country, was a trial of skill, in
which he who could invent the greatest or most
plauuble fiJsehood was rewarded with tha prize
of a whetstone. It will be seen, from the ftbove-
mentioned enumeration of Stow, that moat of

had o

> all

classes, and were now in their lowest stage pre-
vious to a final deportui'e. While these were the
S]x>rts of the town, those of the country still
chiefly consisted of archery, vaulting, leaping,
dancing, and morrice-dances ; of May-games,
may-poles, and whitsun-ales, aud the decoration
of churches with rushes and branches for the
celebration of those holidays enjoined by the
rubric. Upon these games Laud and his coadju-
tors took theur stand when the overthrow of the
church was menaced by Puritanism; and they
were declared by the Book of Sportt not only
lawful on Sundays, but were even enjoined to
he practised by the people after the church sei'-
vice was over. It was no wonder, therefore, if
party spirit as well as religious conviction ani-

mated the Puritans in their correction, or even
entire suppression of such tokens of High Church
devotedness, when their day of power had ar-
rived. Bear-baiting was prohibited; and to re-
move all temptation, the bears were killed by
Cromwell's orders. The concourses of the bull-
ring were dispersed, and the cock-pits shut up.
The holidays of the church, if not prohibited,
were discounteuanced, aud their observances con-
demned as Popish or heathenish. No one, how-
ever, who understands the character of Cromwell,
wilt believe that he was an enemy to manly sports
or innocent recreation ; and the following amuse-
ment, announced in the Moderate TrUdligencer,
one of the journals of the day, was of the true old
English character :— "Hyde Park, May Ist, 1654.
— This day there waa a hnrling of a great ball by
fifty ComiBh gentlemen of one side, and fifty on
the other; one party played in red caps, and the
other in white. There was present his highness
the lord- protector, many of his privy council,
and divers eminent gentlemen, to whose view
was presented great agility of body, and most
neat and exquisite wrestling, at evei-y meeting of
one with the other, which was ordered witli such
dexterity, that it waa to show more the atrengtli,
vigour, and nimbleness of their bodies than to
endanger their persons. The ball they played
withal waa silver, and designed for that party
which did win the gooL' After this no one will
wonder that Cromwell hod no countenance for
the following May Day observance, held in the
same place, and upon the same day :— " Monday,
let May. — This day waa more observed by people
going a-mayiug than for divers years past; and,
indeed, much sin committed by wicked meetings
with fiddlers, drunkenness, ribaldry, and the like;
great resort came to Hyde Park, many hundreds
of coaches, and gallants in attire, but most shame-
ful powdered-hair men, and painted and spotted
women. Some men played with a silver ball,
and some took other recreation. But his high-
ness the lord -protector went not thither, nor
any of the lords of the Commonwealth, but were
busy about the great afiairs of the Common-
wealth." While upon this topic, we may as well
advert to the future English sport of coach-driv-
ing, of which Oliver Cromwell himself seems to
have been, if not the honoured founder, at least
one of the earliest experimenters. The account,
as given by Ludlow, is both amusing and charac-
teristic:—"The Duke of Holstein made him a
present of a set of gray Friesland coach-horses ;
with which taking the air in the park, attended
only with his secretary Thnrloe, and a guard of
janizaries, he would needs take the place of the
coachman, not doubting but the three pair of
horses he was about to drive would prove as tame
I as the three nations which were ridden by him ;

,v Google

636

HISTORY OP ENOl-AND.

fSociAL Stats.

and therefore not content with their ordinary
pace, he lashed them very fnriouHly. Bat they,
unaccuBtomed to snch a rough driver, rnn away
in a rage, and stopped not till they had thrown
him out of the box, with which fall his pistol
fired in hia pocket, though without any hurt to
himself ; by which he might have been iuertructed
how dangerous it was to meddle with those thiuga
wherein he had no experience."

But the chief of all the recreations of the period
Htill remains to be mentioned. The miracle and
mystery plays had already fulfilled their office,
by teaching religion and morals to a rude and
unlettered people ; the street pageants and proces-
sions were now little better than roree shows for
the amusement of a shouting mob. The superior
civilization and leaning of the age required not
only a higher course of instruction, but a more
refined form of representation ; and the demand
created the supply— a supply the more certain to
be produced, as the craving was founded upon
that love of imitation which is so strong a prin-
ciple of our nature. Hence arose the Eugliah
drama, of which we shall afterwords speak, and
the English stage, to which for the present we
confine our atteution.

As soon as the writing of the regular drama
had commenced, it was found that the tawdry and
unwieldy apj>aratns, formerly in use for scenic
representation, was no longer needed. Divine or
allegorical personages had given place to the
agents and iucijeuts of real life; and the chief in-
terest of the play was to depend, not upon iltimb
show and gaudy pantomime, but the truthfulness
of nature and the power of poetry. TJiis com-
plete reaction upon the spirit of the drama acted
in on inverse ratio upon its form and impeisona-
tion; the play of Shakspeare might be written,
and it was enough ; but the old stage bad been
swept away, while a new one had not as yet been
created. Hence the fii-st play-houses erected
under this new state of things were nothing
iniire than large wooden bootiis; the actors were
often a part of a rich nobleman's menial estab-
lishment, or if not, were hard-handed mechanics,
or needy wviderers, who played in their every-
day attire; while the auditory was generally such
as afterwards settled into the leea of a Bartho-
lomew Fair. This squalid state of things, how-
ever, could not long continue; and by the com-
mencement of the present period, when dramatic
writing was of a higher character, and more duly
appreciated by the better classes, greater regu-
larity had been introduced, and a better promise
afforded. At the close of the reign of Elizabeth,
and during that of her successor, the Globe, For-
tune, Olid Paris Garden tlieatres were furnished
with tlieir regular array of actors, and crowded
with persons of every rank, who repured to wit-

ness the great master-productions of Shokspearp,
Jonson, Beaumont and Fleteher, and the other
renowned dramatists of the age. Of these the
Globe, a building of such imperishable renum-
brance, because so cloeely connected with ShaJi-
speare's life and writings, was erected shont
1093; and, in consequence of the growing im-
portance of the drama, it •urpassed in rise evay
theatre that had as yet existed in London. It
shared the usual fat« of other theatres, being
burned down in 1613; but it was rebuilt the
following year with greater magnificence than
ever. Encouraged, probably, by the succesa of
the speculation, the erection of the Fortone
Theatre foUowed that of the other, about lfi99,
and was an improvement upon the plan of the
Globe, having a stage forty-three feet in width
and thirtynine and a half in depth, with better
accommodation for the audience. How well it
was frequented, and how profitable it spe«dily
became, is sufficiently indicated by the fact, that
Alleyn the actor, its chief proprietor, was the
founder of Dulwich College.

Even at the beat, however, these theatres were
but sorry places according to modem estima-
tion. The whole was pit — boxes and even gal-
lery were theinventions of alater day. Thestage
was strewn with rushes, which sufficed for a
cai'pet: if a scene was upon it, it remained for
tlie whole piece, while the imagination was to
transform it accordingto the changes of the play.
" Now," says Sir Philip Sydney, "you shall wee.
three ladies walk to gather flowers, and then we
must believe the stage to be a garden. By-and-
by we hear news of a shipwreck in the same
place; then we ore to blame if we accept it not
for a rock. Upon the back of that comes out «
hideous monster with fire and smoke; then the
miserable beholders are bound to take it for »
care. While in the meantime two armies fly in,
represented with four swords and two bucklers ;
and then what bard heart will not receive it for
a pitched field !" Sometimes, even this help (o
the fancy was not afforded ; and in the owe of
such nakedness, a placard was hung up on the
front of the stage, having on it the name of the
city or country in which the events of the play
were to be anpposed to take place :—

" Tha kisi It Ht tram LoBduB ; lod tlu bow
1j DOW tnnaportfld, iflatloi, ta Soatbam^^im ;

at forth, nod Dot til] tha.

The veiy greatness of on event, also, '
sufficient apology, not only for defective so
but the absence of ol) scenery whatever: —

»Google

UISTORY OF SOCIETY.

Th« Tbtjr dddi of Fiui»T or may m crmm
WltUu tbi> wooita O. tha rtrj (SKim
That did UftdghtlhsairU AgiDOOOrtl"

Over-hend, tbe stage wu lighted with a creflaet
Ab for houae-doorB or gates upon the stage, bj
which actors might make
their entrances and exits, the
afaaence of these was supplied
by stripes of a curtain, over
each of which was the name
of the personage whose habi-
tation it wae meant to repre-
sent. At firat, plays were
acted only on Sundays, and in
this case, it was not wonder-
ful that the Puritans were so
hostile to the theatre ; but as
plays continued to multiply,
and profits to increase, the
number of acting days was
soon extended from one to
four or five days a-week. On
Wednesdays, however, tlie
theatres were closed, that
Ihey might not interfere with Tui oloh Th

the rival recreation of bull-
baiting, which usually took placeon that day. The
performance of each day was usually announced
by a placard set up on the public phices; and if a
new production was to be brought forward, the
price of admission, usually a very small one, was
on that occasion doubled or even trebled. The
hour of commencing the performance was one

637

This circumstance may perhaps account for the
mixture ofcomedyand farce that was generally in-
troduced into the gravest tragedies of the period.
For one auditor who could appreciate the solilo-
quiee of Hamlet, there were at least twenty who

E, Duikalds. Southwul

-Wnklw

Ta« Fontm Thiaim, OoWni lano, B»rhli*ii.-

rfdock^^)ne hour later than that at which the
aristocracy were wont to dine; a flag was usually
hoisted at the top of the building until the play
was over; and as onlva single piece was S£ted, the
time occupied was seldom more than two hours.

coutd rplish the jokes of the grave-digger, and
would on no account have them omitted.

Such was a theatre when empty— but what
imagination can re-people the void with tbe
throngs that filled iti The illusti-ioua who sat
there were famed in the history of England, and
the poetry to which thej listened is engraved
npon the living rock of all time.
Behind the stage, or in its obscare
recessee, that author may have
looked and listened for the ap-
plause of the passing hour, who
was unconscious that succesuve
ages would re-echo it. But the
very thought is overwhelming;
and we turn from it, to the nsnal
characters of which an audience
of the day was composed. Here,
we find, that those in the pit,
usually composed of the middling
and lower classes, and termed tiie
"groundlings," were wont to spend
7 the time before the performance
commenced in playing at cards,
drinking ale, smoking tobacco,
dioiuii. and criticizing past or present
plays, while ale and wine were
hawked about as at an ordinary fair. But there
the people of higher rank could not condescend
to ait, and therefore they were accommodated
upon the stage, where stools were supplied to
them for a few pence by persons who hired them*

»Google

HISTOBT OT ENGLAND.

r. State.

Belves for the purpose, vrhile pipes and tobacco
were furnished to them by their pages, who
stood behind. And then the play began with
the prologue, which contained the argument of
the piece, and was spokeu by an actor dressed
in a long black velvet cloak, who usually came
upon the. stage in a flourish of trumpets; and
afterwards the actors entered, who at first were
dressed in pei'ukea and masks, until "periwig'
pated fellows" and concealed faces were found to
be inconsistent with the true representation of
nature. And then, too, commenced the criticism,
as loud and harsh in those primitive days as the
off-off-iogorcat-calliug with which an unpopular
actor is driven from the stage, or a luckless play
damned, in the nineteenth century. In such con-
demoations, too, it usually happened that the
" song began from Jove," that is, from the higher
classeB seated upon their pre-eminent stools on
the stage ; for rank in England still went for
something, more especially as it was the charac-
teristic of a better education. Sometimes, how-
ever, a critic was so uureasonable and so noisy,
that the pit would rise in defence of the play, in
' which case, the fashionable judge snapped his
fingers in contempt of the groundlings, and hied
away in magnificent disdain. Of such a critic —
whom perhapa he knew but too well— Ben Jon-
son has given the following sketch, in his induc-
tion to"Cynthia's Bevels:"— "Now, air, suppose I
am one of your genteel auditors, that am cooie
in, having pud my money at the door, with much
ado, and here I take my place and ait down. I
have my three aorta of tobacco in my pocket, my
light by me, and thus I begin : -'By this light, I
wonder that Miy mau is so mad to come to see
these rascally tits play here! They do act like
so many wrens or pismires— not the fifth part
of a good face amongst them all. Audthen their
music is abominable— able to stretch a man's ears
worse than ten pillories; and their ditties, most
huneutable things, like the pitiful fellows that
make them — poets. By this vapour, an 'twere
not for tobacco, 1 think, the very stench of 'em
would poison me. I should not dare to come in
at their gates. A man were better visit fifteeu
jails, or a dozen or two of hospitals, than once
adventure to come near them."

In the education of this period, we find that
the impulse which it had received from tlie re-
vival of learning in Europe, still went on with
steady progress, unchecked by the great political
changes to which every other source of public
benefit was exposed. Latin and Greek, indeed,
still formed the groundwork, and were incul-
cated by " learned and laahiiig masters," who had
little toleration for laziness or inaptitude; but to
these were added the study of modem tongues,
eapecinlly that of Italy, and the result was to be

seen in the powerful influence which it was daily
exercising upon our national literature. But be-
sides the study of languages, that of philosophy,
so lately cherished by the works of Plato, was
even alreeuly acquiring that sound practical cha-
racter which Bacon's JVovum Orffamim was so
well fitted to inspire. In this way, the progress
that had been made during the long reign of
Elizabeth, was matured andperfect«d under that
of her successor. It needed only the polish im-
parted by the fine arts, to give lustre and refine-
ment to the education of the day, and this was
fully secured by the munificence of Charles I, in
collecting the richest paintings and works of art,
and inviting the best foreign artists to England.
In this way, at the breaking out of the Civil war,
the senate, the bar, the pulpit, and the press ex-
hibited so array of intellect and accomplishments
scarcely equalled, hut certainly never surpassed
in any later period of unr history. Independ-
ently of these studies, bo much of the chivatrona
character still remained, that military exercises
were judged essential to the education of tJie
youug nobility and gentry; and therefore, not the
least valued among the preceptors of the period,
were those who taught fencing, riding the great
horse, and shooting with the musket, the cannon,
and sometimes even with the cross-bow or long-
bow, to which the national remembrances of an-
cient victories stiil affectionately adhered. On
this account, when the English »ristocracy were
unexpectedly summoned into the field, whether
by Charles I. or the Long Parliament, they at
once exhibited tlie character and training of good
skilful soldiers. Even at the public schools, also,
the intervals of study were seasons of drill, in
which the classes were brigaded into companies,
and trained in military evolutions, for which pur-
jjose arras were abundantly provided, and sol-
diers of reputation appointed to superintend these
lessons of the play-ground. When the whole
round of education was finished, travel succeeded,
and the ingenuous youths of England were to hs
found in great abundance in Fnuice and Italy.
It was not every town, however, that they might
visit, for here government interfered, and pro-
scribed those places where Popery was strongest,
and Jesuitism most abundaut; and often, espe-
cially if tlie rank of the young touiiat was of
some consequence, his course, and the persona
with whom he associated were carefully watche<l,
and an account of them transmitted to head-quar-
ters iu London. Nor will this jealousy of govern-
ment appear uni'easonable, when we remember
the plots so often devised on the Continent for the
eversion of the British charch and constitution.
Such, in its best form, was now the state of edu-
cation in England, That however for the females,
since the death of Elizabeth, had in a great mea-

»Google

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

sure sUrunk within its former murow limits; and
for thiB, more thnn one caow might be Bsaigaed.
A female court no longer predomioAted ; and
ivhile st«m evenU of politics and war wera at
hand, ladies, however worahipped, were not as yet
odmitted to those consultationH in which the fate
of kingdoms waa at stake. Yielding to the no-
ceasity, tbej forsook the high position tbej had
formerly occupied, and were content to bo unno-
ticed, at a season when man and nerve, the strong
heart and aogacioos brain, were of chief and al-
most only account. Along interval had to elapse
Liefore they recovei-ed from the efiects of this
humbling ioferiority.

The history of Eugliah literature during this
]N;rio<l, and the progress of arts and sciences,
would lead ua too far into detail. This, however,
becomes the less necessary, from the high pre-
emiuence tlie English drama bad now attained,
by which every other department of intellect and
tUBte was overshadowed. The first struggle of
the stage to emancipate itself from allegory into
real life, produced, as lias been supposed, the re-
gular comedy of "Ralph Roister Doister,' writ-
ten by Nicholas Udal, in the earlier part of the
siiteenth century. Even this early effort, rude
though it was, gave high promise of the future
drama of England. Almost contemporary with
it, though of inferior excellence, waa "Gammer
Gurton's Needle,' a comedy, the author of which
is unknown. It will thus be seen, that the dra-
matic spirit of England, like that of Athena in
the days of Thespis, commenced in the comic
rather than the tragic vein. The latter, however,
soon followed in the shape of historic plays,
several of the acenea of which Shakapeare is anp-
poaed to have thought not unworthy of improv-
ing, and incorporating into his own imperishable
dramas. Soon afterwards, regular tragedy suc-
ceeded in the "Ferrex and Porrex," or, as it was
aometimea entitled, the "Tragedy of Qorboduc,'
the joint production of Thoraaa SackvLlle, after-
wards Eari of Dorset, and Thomas Norton, a Pu-
ritan divine. In this play, which ia more stately
than natural, the two aathors endeavoured to
blend the character of the old claasical drama
with the newly- awakened perceptions of what
was needful for modem representation, and there-
fore, while it was prefaced by a representation of
the story in dumb show, every act was closed by
an ode like the Greek chorus. Aa yet, also, in
tbeae preliminary attempts, the question waa at
isaue, whether dramatic writing should be em-
bodied in rhyme or in blank vorae, so that while
the first three plays were written in the former,
the last was in both. The eartiest attempts in the
English drama, however, had not solely a retro-
spective view to the example of the Greek stage,
for sometimes an attempt was made, though bap<

pily nnaueMasfu], to retaiu the spirit of the old
moralities embodied in the new dramatic form.
OuB of these pieces, quoted by Collier, entitled
"All for Money," has for three of its characters,
Judaa, Dives, and Damnation, which last drives
the other two "making a pitiful noise" into the
bottomless piL

In audi preludinga, uid omidat such ti^l aud
exfteriment, the dramatic muse of England waa
employed for about thirty yean, when the gray
dawn was succeeded by a bright morning, to be
immediately folio wed by the bursting forth of the
sun itself. In 1584 George Peele first appeared
aa a dramatic writer, aud iu rapid auccession,
he was followed by his contemporaries, Robert
Greene, Johu I^yly, Thomss Kyd, Thomas Lodge,
aud Christopher Marlow. Accomplished classi-
cal scholan, they naturally prefert«d to write in
blank verse, then a new attempt in English
poetry, and in this they persevered, until each
successive improvement was perfected in "Mar-
low's mighty line." Of all those who held tba
honoured office of being the precursors of Shak-
apeare, Christopher, or as he b usually termed,
Kit Marlow, waa undoubtedly the greatest Be
is supposed to have been bom about the year
1562, but of what parentage is unknown. After
graduating at Cambridge, he became a dramatic
writer, aud in 1586, if not earlier, he produced
the tragedy of "Tamburlains the Great' As
might be expected from a genius so young, and
withal ao fervid aud overflowing, "Tamburlaiue'
abounds with bombast ; bub in his subsequent
productions of "Paustus," the"IUch Jewof Mal-
ta," and "Eilward II.," the irregularity abated,
while the fire burned more vehemently than ever.
The temptations of Faustus wlule his good and
bad angel aland on either side, the one to urge,
and the other to restrain him in the study of ma-
gic aud ita forbidden arts — the eagerness with
which he plunges into sensuality when the un-
lawful bargain ia made, and the agonizing re-
morse he experiencea when the forfeit ia to be
paid — have seldom been excelled iu the most
powerful of dramatic delineatioua; while in Ed-
ward II., the misery of ft kingin the act of abdicat-
ing bis royal office, approaches, iu many instances,
the similar sketch of Shakspeare in the tragedy
of " Richard II." Marlow'a chief delight was in
the terrible, of which he showed himself a mas-
ter; bitt withal, there was a licentiousness of
spirit in his writings, and especially in his tnuis-
lations from Ovid, that subjected them to the
censures of ecclesiastical authority. As was bis
poetry so was hia life, wild, fervid, and erratic,
until it was abruptly bivught to a melancholy
termination by a diagiaceful brawl at the early
age of thirty-one, when it might have been said
of bim in the words of his own "Fanstua* —

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAKD.

[Social Statb. '

Much as bad now been done, the drama of Eng-
land was still incomplete — nay, as yet, even the
foundation was scarcely laid. A mighty a}iper-
structure was to be nused, but the raaster-builder
had not yet appeared. This is evident from the
fact, that the dramatic productions of those writers
we have already named have passed away from
popular remembrance, and are now scarcely to be
found except in the dark crypts of antiquarian-
ism. But William Shakspeare was already bom,
and he entered the SeUI before they had depart-
ed. The date of his birth was April, 1664; the
place, Stmttord-on-Avon, in Warwickshire. What
edncation he received, and what was the history
of his youth, are enveloped in mystery, and have |
given rise to much
literary contention
— as if a man so
superior should be
destined to exemp-
tion from that ir-
reverent scrutiny
which familiarizes
us to the history of
less distinguished
mortals. And yet,
from his knowledge
of rural life, it is
evident that hisboy-
hood and youth
were not spent in
■eclusiou — that hia
gaze must have been
everywhere, and hia
course open as day.
At the early age of
eighteen he com-
menced life in ear-
nest by becoming a
husband ; and, only

two or three years FioDitiwmaiimnaiiuiburt,

after, he repaired to

London, but whether instigated by literary ambi-
tion seeking its fittest arena, or by some wild es-
capade that required concealment or protection, is
also matter of controversy. His, however, was no
idle life in London -, for in 1S89, or about four
years after his arrival, and at the age of twenty-
five, lie was one of the proprietow of the Black-
friars' Theatre, and in l.'iOShad already produced
his best plays, and acquired the character of being
by far the best of English dramatic writers,
whether in tragedy or comedy. While hia fame
thus rose so rapidly, his fortune almost kept pace
with it, BO that he had property in Be veral theatres,
uid was soon in such comfortable circumstances

as to be able to combine the life of a gentleman
and courtier with that of a player and poet But
while he enjoyed the patronage of Elizabeth, and
the acquaintance of the highest characters of her
court, his chief delight appears to have been to
mingle with the learned and intellectual of the-
day; and here his " foyning o' nights' at the
Mermtud will occur to the memory of our readers,
as described so affectionately afterwards by Beau-
mont, in hia epistle to Beu Jonsou : —

Done Bt the Uemuid 1 hnrd wordi tbat bM.it boon

This meeting or club, of which Shakspeare was a
member, and which
contained more wit,
learning, and loleot
than perhaps were
ever assembled in
one tavern room,
was founded by Sir
Walter Baleigh ;
and, besides Shak-
speare and himself,
included Ben Jon-
son, Beaumont,Flet-
eher, Cotton, Car-
ew, Selden, Donne,
Martin, and many
others, whose names
were the trumpet
signals of an age
awakening from the
slu mbers of the patst ,
and preparing anew
era for the world.
This splendid asso-
ciation derived its
name from its place
8ti»t(uni upon A»on- of meeting — the

Mermaid, a tavern
in Friday Street, leading from Cheapside towards
the river. But who can well imagine these glo-
rious encounters to which Beaumont so aJTection-
fltely reverts, and which the quaint old Fiilln-.
who was only in hia eighth year when ShakBj)eare
died, endeavoun, from his knowledge of the par-
ties, to describe, as if he had been an onlooker and
listener) "Many were the wit-comhata l)etwiit
him [Shakspeare] and Ben Jonson, which two I
beheld like a Spanbh great galleon and an Eng-
lish man-of-war: Master Jonson, like the former,
was built far higher in learning, solid but slow in
his performances. Shakspeare, with the English
man-of-war, lesser in bulk but lighter in sailing,

»Google

AD, 1603-1660.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

641

could turn with all tides, t&ck about, and take ad- 1 would be mere supererogation to attempt any-
r!uitageofallwiDds,bythequickueBsof hianitand thing further. Aa the poet iiot of any clans,
iiiventiou." But the harmlesanesa of his wit, not- | country, or period, but of human nature and

of all time, Shakspeare may be
eafely left to mankind at large,
of whom he is the comnion
property, and to the latest pos-
terity, by whom he will still
continue to be appreciated.
Who can imagine the country
or the generation when he will
cease to be invoked in his own

" Thou «ft mlghtj jAi
nay ni^rit wftlkiftbrotd?"
We turn from him to his dis-
tinguished contemporary and
comjianioD, Ben Jonson, to
whom already we lutve occasion-
ally referred. He was bora in
1574, or ten yeara later than
''~-l '~~:~ ''~ ' -■ - — - Shakspeare. In his boyhood,

Tm numi IK wnicH8HAH>F«iti wu BOBK.-FnininlniwingbjJ. W. Arelitr. he was brought up at We«t-

niinater Bcbuol,wherehehad the
withstanding its wondrous power, the affectionate learned Camden, one of its junior tutors, for his
kindliness of his nature, and unostentatious sim- preceptor, and afterwards was admitted as s
plicity with which he bore the honours that were dent into St. John's College, Cambricige. Heiv,
heaped upon him, secure<l him the love of his con.
temporaries; and while they recognized and ac-
knowled(,'ed his superiority, the title by which he
was best known among them was "the gentle
Shakspeare." After having written thirty-seven
plays, a collection of sonnets, and the poems of
"Venus and Adonis," and "TarquinandLucrece"
— after having distanced competition, whether an-
cient or modern, in every department he attemp-
ted, and enjoyed, wliat is still n)ore rare and won-
derful, an unqualiSeJ foretaste of the renown tliat
awaiteil him from posterity— he hied him home-
ward while it was still day, aa if all he had
nchieved and enjoyed was of little account, and
that the main business of life was still to come.
At the age of forty-eight, while the maturity of
manhood is still unbent, and the promises of am-
bition are more alluring tli.iii ever, he retired to
an estate which he had purchotted in the neigh-
bourhood of his native town. Here, howerer, he
lived only fnur years, and died in 1616. His fate,
like that of so many of the highest of mankind,
was to leave no family succession, his only son
having died early, wiiile his married dnughters
were childless. Is this seemingly harsh doom in-
flicted upon the greatest and the best, that the
veneration of future nges may not be disturbed
by the presence of nn unworthy posterity 1

After the countlesa eulogiums that have been
written in every langiiage and style, and in

every form of dissertation, upon the works of , , Bh»ki|wi™i«buri*i tath
this greatest and most attractive of all pOets, it I fcrd-niioB-ATaii, wtthin Ohiv

piAH^i Tan. StntfnnI upon Atok '— Dhbd mhI
anfntcdbjJ.L. WlUUiui

r, his stay was brief, for his step-father, a

A mubtn iTiib bcarinf

»Google

6*2 HISTOBY OF ENGLAND. [Soctal Stat*.

Iiricklayer, required his aaaisUmce at home; ftnd, : holes, like t}ie cover of a waroiing pan;* "one eye

accordingly, the young student, as Fuller tells ub, lower than t'other, and bigger;' and, even accord-

"helped in the building of the new structure of [ iDg to hia own declaration, "a mountain belly and

Lincoln's Inn, when, having a trowel in his hand,

he had a book in his pocket* Soon tired of this

uncongenial occupation, and before he had reached

Ilia twentieth year, he joined, as a volunteer, the

English army in Flanders; and there, according

to the conveniation set down for him with Drum-

mond of Hawthomden, he slew an enemy in the

face of both campe, and carried from him the

tpolia opima. Hia military service in Flanders

does not seem to have lasted beyond a single cam-
paign. On his rstum to London, at the age of

twenty, he married; and although be resumed his

original occupation ot a bricklayer, it was only

for the purpose of com-
pleting his literary ^^ '

education, and com- -^

mencing the life of a

dramatic author, to

which, it is probable,

the success already ac-

<|uired by Shakspeare

may have powerfully

incited him. Besides

thie, the opening glo-
ries ot the English

stage, and the distinc-
tion which it already

promised, had turned

the poetical spirit of

the country exclusively
in that direct! on. While

his time was thus occu-
pied between the book
and the trowel, an in-
terruption, not by any
means strange for the

period, occurred. He '~^- -

quarrelled with an ad-
versary, who challeng'

ed him to the field; and, in the duel that fol-
lowed, he slew hia man, whose tuck was ten
inches longer than his own. For this deed of
homicide he waa imprisoned, and would have
been brought to the gallows but for a favour-
able verdict of his judges. On being set free
he resumed his literary labours, accompanied
with his daily mechanical toil; and it would ap-
pear that, even already, he had acquired the
malicious title of " the lime-and-mortar poet,"
His appearance, also, was a« unpi-omiaing ns
could well be, for, according to the testimony of
his enemies, he had a face " like a russet apple
when it is bniised," or "punched full of eye-let

Bm JoJmon.— After Osnirt RouUiimt.

rocky face." But with all these personal disad-
vantages, he was already one of the ripest scho-
lars in England, and resolute U> become one of itii
choicest dramatic poet*. He is suppaoed to have
commenced writing for the stage so early as his
nineteenth year; but nothing can be certainly sh-
certained of his noviciate as an author until three
years later, when his comedy ai "Every Man in
liiNHumour' was brought out at the Bose Theatre.
3uch waa its success that his reputation, ns a
dramatic writer of the first rank, was established.
And no wonder, for, although the earliest, it is
also the best of his productions. Then followed
two tragedies and ten
- -,. comedies, among the

last of which the three
best were thns com-
memorated :

"Tha Foi, ths AlcbHBBt, ud
Bon* bj Ben Jcuob, uid

But the chief occupa-
tion in which he was
employed from 1606 to
1633, was as a writer
of mnsques for the di-
version of the sove-
reign and courtiers ;
and this literary de-
partment, hitherto m
barren and puerile, he
rusedby hisgenins,in-
ventiveness, and taste,
to a high state of clas-
sical excellence. Tlie
■-^ ' death of James I. waa

to him the loss of a
liberal patron ; liis
court and city pensions ceased, and he waa once
more driven to dependence on tlie stage by the
pressure of his necessities ; but liis later efforts,
under such circumstances, were not equal to tlio.*e
he had pro<lucecI befoi'e he became a court writer,
and its poet- laureate. His last piece was even
hissed from the stage as a mere effort of dotage,
upon which he indignantly adopted, and elo-
quently expressed his final resolution i-^
" Le«*« thingk » prostitute.

Ai »UFb>u> foak.
MsT, bluhim, V

■o palv^ la tli7 bmia."

»Google

.. 1603—1660.1

HISTORY OF SOOIETT.

613

It is grRtifyiiig to add that the pout's circum-
atanoM were afterwards iniprovod. He rMumed
the writing of court masques, in which his clasiiical
and literary tastes were fully gnitilted: his pen-
UOD ns poet-laureate WHS increased by Charles I.;
and to tliis was added the tierce nf wine, that has
made so matiy peevish fanlt-lindera merry, and
which was continued to the laureates until within
these few years. He died in 1637, aad was buried
in Westminster Abbey; and upon the stone over
his grave waa inscribed the short epitaph, "0
rare Ben Jousou !"

As a poet, Jouson was so different from Shak-
speare as to be almost a complete contrast. lu'
stead of taking human nature in its great eaeeu-
tials, he confined himself to the charactera that
passed before hia eye; Mid, not content with seek-
ing for the emotions lie wisheii to describe within
the recesses of hia own heoi-t, he had recourse to
hia books, and relied upon those stores of erudi-
tion that wei-e so fully at his command. In this
way, his tragedies were stately clsaaicol declama-
tions, while his comedies were merely the trau-
scripta of Loudon life and character as they ex-
isted iu his own day. How low an aim, and how
limited a range, compared with that of the uni-
versal Shakspeare ! But still, within that sphere
he is unrivalled; and while adopting the Roman
classical model, be has even outstripped his teacb-
ets, Plauttia, Terence, and Seneca. His produc-
tjons, however, although they secured the reward
they aimed at, secured nothing more ; they were
famed during their day, but were forgot when
the generation they chronicled, and the manners
they described, had given place to new men and
new modes of life. It has not been, aiid never
can be thus, with such productions as " Romeo
and Juliet," " tlunilet,* "King Lear," "Macbeth,"
and "Othello."

While by some, Jonson, as a dmoiatic writer,
lias been rsnkeil next to S]iaks|)eare, thia claim
luui been conteetetl by others in favour of Beau-
mont and Fletcher. Between these two there was
such a Siamese twiuship of intellect, that it be-
comes impossible to separate them; while the re-
semblance between them was so complete tliat it
is equally iiopoesibie to discriminate the one from
the other. No critic, however acute in the detec-
tion of internal evidence, can lay his finger upon
anyone act or oceiie of the fifty dramas they pro-
duced, mid decideilly pronounce which of the two
must have been its author. Even at the com-
meacemeiit of the English stage, the practice of
jniut«tock play-writing was frequently ailopteil,
and it continued so latu an the days of Dryden;
hut such a close union or interfusion between two
such superior nnnds, ami so long continued, bus
neither piirallel nor reseniblacice in the whole his-
tory of buniAU authorship. As men, however.

although not as poets, we can speak of tbem as
two veritable persona. Francis Beaumont, whose
name always stands first, although he was the
younger of the pair, was descended of an ancient
family, and bom at Grace l)ieu, in Leicestershire,
in 1686. At the early age of ten years, he was
entered as gentleman- commoner in Pembroke
College, Oxford, and afterwards he iDecame a stu-
dent in the Temple. Poetry rather than law,
however, must have occupied his chief attention,
while bis love of poetical society le<l him to the
Mermaid tavern, into the society of which he
waa odmiUed to the high privilege of memliership.
Here he met with Shakepeare and Ben Jonson,
and, above all, with hia Fylades, Fletcher; and
such waa the congeniality of wit with which both
overflowed, that, according to Shirley, "on every
occasion they talked a comedy." Their first play
was written in 16(17, when Beaumont had reached
his twenty-lirst year, and Fletcher was ten years
older; and from thia period their connection was
ao close, that we ore told they lived not only iu
the same street but the same house, and had moat
things between them in common, not eveu ex-
cepting their clothes and cloak. How diligently
they must have laboured ia sufficiently attested
by the fact, that, numerous as their joint produc-
tions were, Beaumont died in the spring of 1616,
only eight years after their first play waa pro-
duced, Johu Fletcher waa bom iu lfi7a He
WHS the sou of a bishop, and born of a poetical
family, his uncie. Dr. Giles Fletcher, and h)a cou-
wiis, Phineas and Oilea, being well knowu, espe-
cially the two latter, whom Southey charocterizea
as "the best poets of the school of Spenser." The
authorahip of Jolin Fletcher commenced so early
AS his seventeenth year, by a translation of Ovid's
atory of "Salmacia anil Hermaphroditus," which
was published in IW2. His death occurred in
162S,uine years after that of Beaumont; and dur-
ing this interval he appears to have written ele-
ven plays that are includeil in the joint collection.
Such are a few notices of their individual history.
As poeU they were more fervid and imaginative,
and as delineatera of character more natural than
Jonson, although they wouted his regularity and
correctness. Indeeil, with all their inspiration,
which Hashes upon the reader through almost
every scene, there is the evidence of a haste and
looseness which, in most coses, preveiiteil them
from producing a complete and fiuiahed play.
Still, in richnesB, variety, and creative power,
tiieirprrKluctionaarethe most worthy to be placed
next to those of Sliaks])eare, while the lyrical
pieces in which they abound are superior to the
same etTorts even of Shokspeare himself. But
what shall we say of tlie gross obsinnity with
which all their plaj-s are defiled 1 It gives iia n
strange idea of tlie language and niauuera of our

»Google

6H

nrSTOKY OF ENGLAND.

[Pot

L STATt

anceators tliut such detineations should not ouly
have beeu tolerated ujion the Btage, but have be-
come HO popular as, even till the close of the cen-
tury, to have been more highly valued than the
deep philosophy of "Hamlet," or the pure, de-
voted love of " Borneo and Juliet." Aud it He«ia8
more uiarvellous still, tliat stern moralists and
pious divines should have bo highly lauded them
a» the pei-fection of all that was morally excellent
^aa lieiug, in the wonls of Bishop Earle, produc-
tions too "pure," and "chaste," und "sainted,' to
t>e called plays! It is enough to aitd, that not one
of them could be read aloud in the present day,
and that the modem jirocess uf "castigating*
would absolutely tear it to pieces. With all
that love of literary resuncitation which prevails
among us, we sus|>ect that no one would iie so
eiithusisHtic as to republish an entire edition of
the works of Beaumont and t'leti-her

Contemporaneous with these illustrious four,
who reigned supreme in the realms of draniatiu
poetry, were & whole host of inferior writers, each
of whom was titled to obtain no ineau distinction
had he but apgwHred alone, or beeu liom in an
earlier or Inter jmiIchI. The best uf these, how-
ever, we can only briefly particularize. And Hrst
in excellence was Philip Maawinger, well known
even at this late period by his "New Way to Pay
Old Debts,' and "The City Madam,' which still
keep possession of the stage, aud are justly ad-
mired for their excellence of construction, and
forceful delineation of character. Uf the thirty- '
eight plays he wrote, only eighteen have lieen i
preserved; and from these, he appeara to have |
IMsseaaed more imitative than creative power, and '
to have excelled in jirofound thought and correct
vigorous description rather than high poetical
imagination. Another dramatic |)0et was George
('ha{)man, who began to write for the stage in
1595, |iroduceO twenty-thi-ee phiys, of which six-
teen have survived, and who has been chai'acter '
ized as the most desciiptive and <lidnctic of all '.
the contemiwraries or successors of Shakspeare.
Besides these plays, of which the best known are I
" KiuttwarO Hoe," aud " Busay il'Anibois," he ,
translateil the /lind nnd (klgiurg into English |
ver>ie, and in these fully evinced that hi.s forte
wna as strong in epic as in dramatic |X)etry. ■
Next in oi'der may l>e mentioned John Welistvr, '
tHJlor, and parish clerk of St. Andrews, Holborn, :
who, in spit« of his humble position and nie- \
ohanical calling, won for himself a high plnce '
among the ilramatic poetd of England. He was I
known to posterity chieHy as the author of the '
'■White Devil'and the "Duchess of Malfy." in !
which the deejiest notes of horror and anguish aiv ,
touched with a vigoi«ns and discriminating hand.
Only four drumatic pieces were tiis sole pi-odnc- I
tion, for unlike hU brethren, he wrate slowly ,

aud with care and study: the other four wbicb
sometimes bear his name, were joint pradactious
which he wrote in partnership with Dekker and
Morley. Such, indeed, as we have already ob-
served, was a common fashion in the plaj-writin"
of the day: to sketch the plot, to fill up the cbar-
acters, and give the whole a regular contiiiuity,
were often the result of a combination of labour;
aud hence the irregularity or absence of an indi-
vidual character throughout, by whicb a oiugle
|)lny of the olden time is so often distingitiahed.

MuNuuisTToL'HiPHui— KroniailwUlibrJ. W. ArdMr.

Such a piny-wi'iter or play-wright was Thomas
Middleton, who was the author of some score
aud a half of tragedies ami comedien, in aereial
i)f which he was assisted by Ben Jousou, Dekker,
Fletcher, Riiwley, and Masainger; and Dekker
himself, who stands sponsor to the same amount,
in which the aid he so libernlly imparted to
others was fairly r(ici|irDcate<l. Middletoii's beat-
known proiluctioii ia a tragi-comedy, called "The
Witch," in which he has shown sueb power in
delineations of the supernatural, that Shakspeare
has been by many supposed to have drawn from
them the ideas wliich he so magnilicently em-
liudied in the witch-scenea of " Macbeth.* But
of alt the dramatic artificers of the day, what
shall we think of the labours of Thomas Hey-
wood, scholar, translator, poet, actor, hintorian,
and tlieologian, who, l>esides several folios aud
fiuartos in prose of wliich he was sole author, one
of these being his Hierarchy of the BtoMed An-
• TJiii munuiiKnt b In llic cliumbjiuil or St. Qilos in l)»-

»Google

i.D. 1808—1680.]

HISTORY OP SOCIETY.

645

gd*, which w atjlt to be found ou tnanj a street
book-stall, bad l&i^ literary iavestmetita ia 220
playa, wherein he tells na, he "had either an en-
tire hftnd, or, at the leaat, a main finger?" We
hasten to cl<»e the list of dramatic authors, that
would otherwise be too voliiminons, with tlie
iiamea of Jolm Ford abd James Shirley, The
first of these wrote eleven plays, besides aaaisting
in aeveral others, and was chiefly distiuguished
by grave tranquil dignity in his expressions of
seutimeiit, with winning tenderness in bis love-
Mcenes. Shirley, who began to write for the stage
iu 1629, and who produced forty plays, may be
considered as the last of tlie great Shakspearian
era. Never had the dramatic spirit been so
t,Teatly accumulated, or so fully and eloquently
iixpreased, either in ancient or modem times, aa
in England, and duriijg the lirst portion of the
BHveuteentli ceQturyi and when the Loug Parlia-
ment, in 1643, commanded the theatres to be
dosed, the inapiratioD that had made the slage
so alluring waa ezliausted, ho that the mandate
was of little consequence. After an interval, in
which real strife, and havoc, and suffering were
to take the place of their poetical representatives,
the stage was again to be opened, and with
more imposing aspect than ever; but no ue
Shaklpeare or Jousou waja to animate it, or evi
u Uarlow or a Hassiiiger.

While Puritanism thus sternly silenced the
dramatic muse with the declaration, that "public
Bporta do nut well agree with public calamities,
nor public stage-plays with the seasons of humi-
liation, this being an eierciae of aad and ptnns
solemnity, and the other being spectacles of plea-
sure too commonly eipressing lascivious mirth
and levity" — and while the license of the stage
lint too often justified this condemnation — we are
naturally anxions to know whether this religious
spirit could pnxluce true and good poets, aa well
as wise atatesmeu and gallajit warrioni. Such,
however, was the case; and under the name of
the Puritan |H>eta, by which title they are some-
times known in the history of our national litera-
ture, tliey occupy an honoured place among the
distinguished characters of this stirrinfy period.
Among these may be name'l Fi-oiieis Quarica,
(ieorge Wither, Andrew Miirve! ; and John Mil-
ton, who had already given eimiest to the world
of the great epic which he waa to produce when
the comnieucenieut of the ensuing ]>eriod had
freed him from controvewy a:id political turmoil.
With these, aliw, may be classed, as religious gwels
of the age, although they were not Puritans ac-
cording to the sectarian nieaiiiiii; of the tenn-
.Toseph Hall, Biahop nf Norwich, Oiles and Phi-
neaa Fletcher, John Donne, George Herbert, and
Richard Crashaw. The classical spirit, talent,
and retiiiemeiit, combined with the poetical en-

thusiasm and excellence of these writers, suffi-
ciently redeem the era of the Commofiwealth, and
the character it matured, from the cliarges of
narrowness and poverty that have been so unre-
flectingly heaped upon it. While these poets were
])oetical impersonations of the religious charac-
t«r of the age, there were others alao who, in con-
trast to these, may be called the heralds of the
Restoration, and the new literary character it
introduced. These were Thomas Oirew, Sir John
Suckling, and Colonel Richard Lovelace, noble
types of the Cavalier party to which they be-
longed, and who exhibited its chivalrous spirit
and talent without its selfishness and sensuality.
Independently of these poeta of the two great
antagoniHtio classes of the period, there were
several who cultivated their jxwtic tendencies,
independent of the )>olitical or eccleaiaiitical di-
I visions by which Bociety was rent asunder, and
I whose excellence insured them a reputation that
' has outlasted their own day. These were Wil-
liam Warner, Michael Drayton, author of the
■ Polffolbion, and Samuel Daniel, all of whom were
chiefly poetical chroniclers or historinns; Edward
Fairfax, the trajislatorof Taaso; Sir Richard Fan-
shawe, the translator of the Lyuiad of Camoens;
I Sir John Davies, author of "NoaceTeipsnm" and
the "Orchestra;" Sir John Denham, whnse chief
poemof "Cooper's Hill" was published within the
present period; and Rolwrt ITerrick, author of
the " Hesperidea."

The taste of Charles I., and his inclination to
patronize distinguished artists, might have made
this age of poetry also illustrious as one of point-
ing; hut political troubles and the Civil war post-
poned this event to a later season. The com-
mencement, however, waa fully effected by the ar-
rival of Vandyke in England, and the enthuaiasm
which his numerous pioductioiis created among
the noble families of the country (or rich picture
galleries and family portraits. A native of Ant-
werp, and already in high reputation on theCou-
tineiit, Anthony Vandyke was invited by Charlfs
I. to England in 1829, where his splendid [lor-
traits of the king and principal courtiers grew
into such request, that all were eager to employ
his pencil. The high value attached to these
numerous productions, and the undiminislied
a<lmiratiou they still excite, make further de-
scription unnecessary. In the meantime, the for-
tunate artist reuiied such a harvest of anccess in
pi-ofit as well as fame, that he hod little cause
to regret Ills expatriation : he was knighted and
{icnsioned, while the rich returns of his profes-
sional occupations enabled him to live in a style
of mugidficence which rivalled that of the high-
est nobles. The greatest work which he pro]M>seil
to accomplish waa to jnint the walls of the Ban-
queting Houiie, of which his master, Rubens,

»Google

646

rilSTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Social State-

tance, may be named Sir Thomiu Browae, aa-
ir of the Bdigio Maiici; Kobert Burton, wall
knowa for his Anatomj/ of Mdanckoty; and Lord
Herbert of Cherbuty. In phyaical gcipnce, H»r-

liiul ftiready paiuterl tbe ceiling; but the proposed

coat of thia undertaking {£&MCi), and the break-
ing out of the war, compelled it to be aban-

[loued. Vnndyke died iu EngUnd in 1641, i

waa buried iu St. Paul's Cathedral, aud although

he had done au uiuch, he bail only i-eached the

age of forty-two.

WhLe poetry of every kind, and poeta of every

variety of excellence were iu auch abundance,

the other Jepartmenta of Jnteliect were by no

nieaua unproductive; and the nniioeut literary

aud scientific chiiractera of this period need ;

merely be named, to call up to niemoi^ their

mental achievementa aud their greatueae. Fore-

luoat of these may be placed Lord Bacon, " the .

greateat, wiaeat, meanest of mankind," who, if

he deaerved the hut epithet at a puliticiati, fully

merited the other two as a pliiloaopher aud uui-

vei-sal instructor.' Enough of his political career

has been given in another part of this work,

mid it is grateful to turn from hia charaoter aa a

stateamau aud the flatterer of Buckingham, to

tliat by which he will be beat remembered— his

beiug the author of Xoimm Organum, by which

the Aristotelian form of reaaouiug waa super- vi^iu^y H*Bvn.-AB«r CMf«u«. j™-«l

seded, aud the philosophy of reason, truth, uud I

nature restored to its proper pre-emiueuce. The , vey waa distinguished during this period by his

fruits of thia mighty revolution have been mani- discovery of the circulation of the blood, a dia-

feated iu the history of English intellect from that , covery which has revolutionized and h«uefited

period onward— and may be traced Iu the iiiven- i the healing art more tluui any that had yet been

linns and diacovei-ies by which physical science | made. Dr. Wdliani Harvey, for whom this high

distinction waa reserved, after a

life of Btudy iu France, Germany,

-_ -_ — and Italy, aettlad in Loudon aa

-._! .-.'-'- lecturer on anatomy and surgery

in the Coll^[e of Phyaicians; aud

it was ill his coursa of lecturing,

that he diacloaed his discovery of

the circulation of the blood, which

he afterwards gave to the workl at

,;. large in his work eutitleil Ejxrei-

tatio A iiatomicit (U MiAu Con/it

■J el iSanguinii. He was physician

to Janiea I. and Charles I.; aud

after a long life iu which his

r gentleness, modesty, and piety

were aa uonapicuoua an his givat

lulents and compelled the esteem

'--,-' - " of ail parties, he died in I60T, at

the age of eighty-eight. Among

the political writers whom this

has BO greatly ameliorated the ills and enlarged ' etimiig age produced, the best was John Milton,

the powei? and comforts of humatuty. Com- who would have lieen renowned as the ablest of

juireil with this, what were the hei^iic deeds of (lolitical coutrovei-aialista, if he had not secured

this warring age, or even the political changes the more enduring character of the best of poet*

they effeitpil I Afti-r Rncon, but at a long dls- ■ Another eminent political writer waa .Tohn Bar-

unx. LoNDnH.

of I1jumii7— Pnitn a print hj HoUnr.

I*-

a, t)w iibilwojiligr'i biUxir, t kv^iier ut III

»Google

A.D. 1603—1660]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

647

clay, author of Arymu. In hiHtory, tliis period
was prolifla not only of voluminood chroniolera
and learned laboriouB antiquaries, through whom
our knowledge of English history has been com-
pleted, but also nf regular hiatorians, at the heud
of whom may be placed Lord Bacon ; Thomaa May,
Uie hiitorian of ths Long Parliament; Kichard
KnoUea, author of&i/ijtoryo/Me Tunt*, which is
Btill a valuable standard authority ; and Sir Walter
Raleigfa, who after having acquired distinction as
a scholar, soldier, courtier, navigatar, poet, snd
ehemiBt, aat down in his imprisonment in the
Tower to write the Htttorif of the World, u if to
oonsole himself for hefng no longer able to ex-
plore ita smi undiscovered regions, or to take a
part in its exciting movements.

As the present was a religious age, and as the
Civil war partook as much of a religious as a po-
litical character, it ia in theology, still more than
in general science, that ths niaster.epirit8 of the
day are to be found. Next to the stage, there-
fore—although the tninsition is a strange one-
it is to the pulpit that we must lo*>k for ths high-
est manifestations of intellectual excellence dur-
ing ths first part of the seventeenth century. And
here the name of Jeremy Taylor at once suggests
itself as the Milton of preachers; of Joseph Hall,
Bishop of Exeter and Norwich, who was not only
a poet, but one of the most eloquent of preachers,
and whose vigorous, sententious mode of ttluHtrs^
tion obtained for him the title of the " Christisn
Seneca;" of John Donne, dean of St. Paul's, a
poet like Hall, and who, like him, also threw his
whole poetical fervour into bis ministrations as
a teacher of rigbteousneas. With these may
be classed John Howe, the learned and eloquent
chaplain of Cromwell, and whose sermons, inde-
pendently of their sound Christian tiTithfulnesa,
breathe the purest and most elevated spirit of
FUtonism. As the danger to which the English
church was exposed by the growing power of the
Puritans became daily more imminent, the neces-
sity called forth learned and able eon tro venial ists
in its behalf, the chief of whom were Dr. lanoe-
lot Andrews, Bishop of Winchester,and the primi-
tive Archbishop Usher. The same necessity ex-
isted of defending the common Protestantism
against the nttacks of Popery, and in this depart-
ment of theolc^cal controversy John Halea and
William Chillingworth are atill unrivalled. In
ecclesiastical history, Thomas Fuller may be men-

di(nl9af)n

xm blmaalf on hia Ubhiliif Um
II WH bn tint bf wa dspi ind
li dasniUUan. Ynk Biwtbgii pmtd
■» HW DBiHU Di trw crmn, uid wu bKtomd bj jMom I. ca
Um tt-nmiitt, ths Dak* of BnoklnthiiiD, whs iltanil R to Iba
fctmwymljd In Um woodcut. NoUiInc bow mulH of lb*
bidldlii( but Ihs btutlftil wmUr-siU OB ihcTlumaa. g» of tlH
ImrtwflAxf Inlv) Joan, at Uh mdof BadilnihuB StnM,
■Dd ■ pDrUaD of Uw <U mUIdc whUi h aUll pnwrttl In >
booM *t tlH amv dT Tilltn BiiHt.

tloned, whose CAure* History of Britain, from the
Birth of Jam* Chriit until the Fear 1648, and his
HifCor;/ of the Worthiet of England, are still read
with profit and delight.

In passing from Engknd to Scotland during
the present period, its condition may be mentioned
in a very few words. As yet, the change that was
finally to be accomplished npon its character by
union, and ultimately by incorporation with Eng-
land, had not visibly begun to operate; and there-
fore the manners and customs of the people were
still as simple and rude as they had been during
the preceding stage. In learning, also, the nation
had rather retrograded tlian advanced, owing to
that struggle in defence of its beloved church, by
which its whole time and energies wure fully occu-
pied. The distinguished Scottish characters of this
period were therefore men of action rather than
cout<!mplation ; and they are to be found in the
public arena where great events were at issue,
rather than the closet or the college. From this
general criterion, however, two illustrious excep-
tions occurred in the cases oF Dnimmond of Haw-
thomdeu and Napier of Merchiston.

Sir William Dmmmond was born on the 13th
of December, 168S. His family seat of Haw-
thomden, now a place of pilgtimage to admiring
tourists, was a fitting birth-place and home for a
poet; while his studies, which were chiefly devo-
ted to the writings of the great authors of Givece
and Some, elevated his taste, and refined his lan-
gnage beyond those of hia contemporaries, not
merely in Scotland but of England also. His son-
nets, especlnlly, were the admiration of the age,
on account of their parity of style and melody of
vereification, so that he has l>een justly compared
to the best of hia Italian models. Instead of be-
taking himself to the profession of the law, for
which, like the other JDrisconsults of his country,
he had studied four years in France, he retired,
on the death of his father, to Hawthoruden. His
reputntion as a poet, by the publication of several
of his verses, and especially of "A Cypress Orove,"
which was printed at Edinburgh in 1616, so widely
diffused his poetical reputation, that, only two or
three years after, Ben Jonson resolved to pay a
visit to their author; and this he acconipllslied in
hia own rough bold fashion, by a journey on foot
of 400 miles over moor and mount^n, and among
a people still dreaded as barbarians. The chief
poetioU works of Dmmmond were sonnets, mad-
rigals, and religious poems, which, during his
lifetime, were printed upon loose sheets, and were
not collected until lefiO.six years after his death,
when they were published in one volume.

The other distinguished Soot of this period-
John Napier of Merchiston, inventor of the lo-
garithm*~h»B secured for himself a name as
imperishable at the invention npoo which it \a

,v Google

648

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statv.

founder). He was born id 1550, and nltbougli
ag^ndized with the title of buvn, which in

England waa one of nobiJity, in Scotland it indi-
cated nothing more than a laird, whose aaceatom
bad held tbe power ot fossa eifurca wltliin their
own small doniaiu. little ie known of the ear-
lier part of his life, except that he studied in tbe
university of St. Audrewa, and afterwards tra-
velled on the Continent. On returning to Scot-
laud, bis life w.ta BO Btndious and recluse, and his
evening walks so lonely, tliat the country people
eyed bim at n distauce, and with fear, as a magi-
cian, or at least as something "not canny i" and to
this he afforded some grounds l>y the nature of
bia studies, several of which bordered on the mi-
raculous. The chief of these were the iliaoovery
of concealed treasures by tbe divining rod, and the
invention of a warlike machine for the defence
of Christendom, that would destroy 30,000 Turks
by a single volley. Tlie same love of the wonder-
ful incited him to the study of the future, but in
this he wisely confined himself to the Revelations
of St. John, upon wliich he published a Commen-
tary in 1593. It was not, however, till 1614 that
he burst upon the world in his true acientjfic
character, by the publication of liia Book of Lo-
garkhms; and in a short time this useful disco-
very, by which the most laborious and abstruse
calculations were simplified into short easy pro-
cesses, was hailed as one of the most valuable
benefits that had ever been rendered to science.
Still prosecuting these important iuveatigations,
he published, in 1617, directions tor the proceaaea
of multiplication and division by aniall gi-aduated
rods, which, from their inventor, were afterwards
called " Napier's Bones." In the same year he
died at Merchiaton Caatle.

While the literary and acientific annala of Soot-
land could thus supply not more than two names
uf distingiiiabed mark, ita ecclesiastical history
was scarcely more pnxiuctive. During the reign
of James the chui-ch waa almost trodden under
foot, and in tlie Civil wars even the best of ita
divines were employed as political negotiators or
military chaplains. In spite of these disadvan-
tages, however, so unfavourable to literary re-
search, and the cultivation of taste and eloquence,
this period produced David Calderwood, wliosc
voluminous Ilitlory of the Kirk of Scotland is a
valuable record of Scottish events during the six
teenth and seventeenth centuries, while his Altare
Jkiniiucenum pUces him iu the highest rank of

ecclesiastical controversy. Another excellent wri'
ter, as well aa accomplished scholar, was Robert

Bail lie, principal of the uuiveisityof Glasgow, who
understood thirteen languages, and wroUi iu Latin
with classical purity. His chief works were O/ix*
HiUoricmn et Ckronologiettm, publiahed in folio at
Amsterdam, and his Journal and Letter*, which
contsin a full and graphic account of Scottish
affaire during the Civil war and the Common-
wealth, but which remiuned unpiibliahed till 1775.
Among the other distinguished Scottish church-
men of the period, may be mentioned Alexander
Henderson, who, after John Rnoi and Andrew
Melvil, is reckoned the third Scottish Reformer,
ilnder hie able leading the prelacy imposed upon
his country by James I. and Charles I. was over-
wn;— and George Gillespie, one of the four
Scottish ministers deputed to attend the West-
minster Assembly of Divines, ond whose scholar-
ahip as well as dialectic talent was so complete
in one of the aaaembly's discussions, to have
ipletely nonplussed the learned Seldea himself,
although he came fully armed with preparation,
while Gillespie entered booted and spurred from
his journey, and with the purpoae of being only
a spectator. Equal to any of these was Hugh
Binning, whose early proficiency iu sch^larabip
was so remarkable, that at the age of nineteen
he stood candidate for the chair of philoaojdiy on
the resignation of Hr. Jame« Dabymple, aftei^
wards Lord St^r, and gained it against every
competitor. From the university, where he was
distlnguisbfd as one of the first emancipators of
philoBophj from the pedantry with which it was
overlaid, he entered the church, and became one
of its moat eloquent divines, and died while as yet
only in the twenty-sixth year of bis age. His
works were a treatise on Chrutian Love, a leaaou
of which tlie day was greatly in need, and many
miscellaneous tracts and sermons, which have
been collected into a large quarto volume. So
superior is the style of Binning to that of hia con-
temporaries, that while most of the productions
of the latter have fallen out of sight, hia aermous
are still read with high relish even by the most
critical and fastidious.

Such were the few eminent men whom Scot-
land at this period produced. A twilight had
already commenced, and a dark and stormy night
was to follow, before the laud was fitted for that
high intellectual position which she waa destined
finally to occupy.

»Google

BOOK VIII.

PERIOD FEOM THE RESTORATION OF CHARLES II. TO THE
REVOLUTION.— 29 YEAR&

CONTEMPOBAHy PRINCES.

IMi CHABLB8 II

1683 rcDBO II.

1880 0
D
1970 oBumu V

1M7 OLKHIST t)

1S70 0
11)79 1.

CHAPTER I.-CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— a.d. 1660-1661.

CHARLES 11.-

K.O. 1660— DEATH, A.D. 1

ChurlalLUodiia Eogtuid—Hiiraoepdan— Choice at hiiprincip*! couDwUon—Hiietsrcue of s roy^l attdbut*
— Firrt proccedinga of the ReBtoretion— Salection of r^cida for punUhmonl- Kovonae BBsigned lo tlie king
— Uimtiahotory nattlaujint of theqnttttionof tolention— Uiher'i icheiueor uninn between Episcopklianannd
Pnil^tariMU—Iti unutubotorj duennion befon tha king — Trial of the ragicidee— Tmli of Gensnl Harii-
*0D, Colonel Cb[««, and Htirj Martin— Triali of William Hawlet, Qarland, and Hugh Fetan— Execution of
Ga&enI Uaniaon — Eiecntien of other ngieiilet— ArriTBl of the queen-mother in Engl and— Marriage of Uie
Duke of York to the daughter of Lonl ClvecdoD—Confonnit; to the Cbarch of England enjoined— Violation
ofthegraveeof regicidea, uid exeoationof dead bodiee-^Venoer'i inaurreatioD in London, and ita cuppntaion
—New troopa niaed— CUioia of acotlaud oa the gratitude of Charlea II.— Hii hatred to the Kirk of Scotland
— The Marqnia of Argjle entrapped, triad, and exeentod— Other Soottiih executions- Evil goyernment of
Scotland hf Ijnderdale and Uiddleton— Sharp made Arcbbithop of St, Andrewa— Hii persecution of Iha
Co*enanten— The oe* or "PeueioD Parliament"— Ita intolerant church meamrea— ParaeeDtion of eminent
CommoDwsaltb men — A rignroua oonformity bill puaed— Marriage of Charlei II. to Catherine of Braguin —
ii open profligaeiet— Affliction! of the new queen— She thraateui to return to Portogal— Trial
of Sir HarcT Vane- Hie defenco—ilia aentance— Hie conduct on the acaffold, and execution —AasaBinatioD of

^K the Sfith of tSuj, Charles
; and hia two brother^ the
1 Dukea of York and Gloncea-
: l«r, landed near Dover, where
; Monk met them. The king
mbiaced and kiwed his re-
■torer, calling him "Esther."
^ On the S9th, which wiu Charlee'a birth-
a ditj, and that on which he compteted hU
r thirtieth year, he made hia aolemn entry into
Londoo, attended by the members of both
houaea, by bishops, miuisten, knights of the
Bath, lord-mayor and aldermen, kettle-drunia
and trumpets. All was joy and jubilee. And
when Charles met the House of Lords, the Earl
of Manchester hailed him as "great king,"
"dread sovereign," "u&tive king," "aon of the
wise," &&, and prophesied to bim that he would
prove an example to all kings, of piety, justice, ,

V0L.1I.

prudence, and power. Nor were the commons
much beliind the lords: their speaker, Sir Har-
bottle GrimstoD, told Charles that he was deser-
vedly called the " king of hearts ;" that he would
receive from his people s crown of hearts; that
he could not fail to be tiie luppiest and most
glorious king of the happiest people.

The king's principsJ adviser was, and for some
time had been, the Earl of Clarendon — the re-
forming Edward Hyde of former days ; but in
the fonnatJoa of a government or a ministry,
Clarendon was obliged to consult the interest of
Monk. In Charles's first privy council there
were admitt«d almost as many Presbyterians as
Church of England men and Cavaliers; but Cla*
rendon evidently hoped to be able to displace
these Presbyteriana by degrees. Among the
members of this new cabinet were the king's two
brothers, the Marquis of Ormond, the Earl of

,v Google

f)50

HISTORY OF EXGLAND.

[ClTIL A

J MH-tTART.

Lindsay, Lord Sitj tuid S«le, Oeaeral Mook, the
Earl of Munchester, Mr. Deuzil HoUis, and Sir
Antony Aehley Cooper, Monk was continued
captain -general of all the forces of the three
kiub^dums, and lie was soon gratified bv a long
list of titles of Dobility, ending in that of Duke of
Albemarle. The Duke of York was made lord
liigli-admiral, lord-warden of the Cinqne-portB,
&i'. The Earl of Southampton became lord high-
treasurer; the high-church Marquia of Ormond,
lord-steward of the houiiehold; and the Presby-
terian Earl of Manchester, lord -chamberlain.
Lord Clarendon, retaining the chancellorship,
wiiB iutrustetl with the chief mauageuient of

The Presbyterians were startled at the repro-
duction of the Tliirty-niue Art!<.le« ; but they
were gratified by a royal proclamation against
vice, debauchery, and profuneness, and by see-
ing one of the moat debauched and profane of
jirincea admit into the numlser of his chaplains
Baxter and Calamy, two eloquent and famous
Preabyterian preachers. To keep the lord-mayor,
the aldermen, sheriffs, and priiicipnl officers of
the city militia in good

humour and loyalty, ^ —

the honour of knights /-^

hood was showered
n|)on them, and the
king went into the city
to feast with them.
That none of the old
attributes of royalty
might remain in the
shade, his majesty be-
gan to touch for the
king'sevil,Bittingunder
hia canopy of state with
his surgeons and chap-
lains, and stroking the
faces of all the sick that
were brought to him,
one of the chaplains
saying at each touching
— " He put his hands
upon them and he
healed them." Thin
ili^usting and even
blasphemous ceremony
— thia pretension to
an hereditary right of woiking miracles— greatly
incensed the Puritans.

The lords and commons who, under Monk,
had recalled the king, were not properly a par-
liament, but only a convention Therefore one
of the fii-at proceedings after his arrival was la
piisK an act coiistituting thia convention a parlia-
ment. They then voted .£70,000 a-month to the
kiug for present necessities. The Chancellor

Clarendon told them that his majesty would in
all points make good his declaration from Breda;
that lie granted a free pardon to all except those
whom the parliament might except; and that
no man should be disquieted for differences of
opinion in matters of religion.

Fifteen days before Charlea'a joyous entrance
iuto London, the lords had caused the Book of
Common Prayer to be read in their house ; and
at the same time they and the commous had
begun to arrest as traitors all such as spoke
amiss of his gracious majesty or of kingly gov-
ernment. They had also seized Clement, one of
the late king's judges; and had ordered the seizure
of the goods of all that sat as judges upon that
memorable trial ; thus plainly intimating, even
before Charlea'a arrival, that veugeance was to
be taken upon the regicides. And now the Pres-
byterian majority of the commons, led on by the
noisy, hot-headed, and vindictive Denzil Mollis,
voted that neither they themselves nor the
people of England could be freed from the horrid
guilt of the late unnatural rebellion, or from the
punishment which that guilt merited, unless they
formally availed them-

-^ selves of his majesty's

^\,^ grace and pardon, aa

set forth in the declara-
tion of Breda; and
they went in • body to
the Banqueting House,
and threw themselves
at the feet of Charles,
who recommended them
to despatch what was
called a bill of indem-
nity and oblivion. Cla-
rendon had all along
counted upon punish-
ing with death all such
aa bad been immedi-
ately concerned in the
death of the late king.
Monk, however, when
arranging the Restora-
tion, had adviaed that
not more than four
should be excepted; and
now he stepped in to
check the vindictive
fury of the commons, and prevailed upon them
to limit the nnmber of their victims to seven-
Scott, HolUnd, Lisle, Barkstead, Harrison, Say,
and Jones- who, it was voted, should lose the
benefit of the indemnity both as to life and estat«.
But the number of seven was presently raised to
ten by the aildition of Coke, tiie active solicitor;
Broughton, clerk to the High Court of Justice;
and Dendy, who had acted as serjeant-at-anus

ihle* II.— Aftar Sir p. UlT-

,v Google

1, 1600—1661.]

CHARLES II.

651

duriiig the trial. These ten, it wah nnderstood,
were nil to auffer a horrible death. But without
losiDg time, the commonB proceeded to select it
still larger number that were to suffer the minor
penalties of imprisoiiment for life, loes of pro-
perty, and b^garj to their poeterity. Tliey voted
that a petition should be drawn aiid presented
to the king, b^ging him to issue a pmclama-
tiou comnuuiding all thoae who had been con-
cerned in manaf^ng his father's trial, or other-
wise forward in promoting his death, to surren-
der tbemselyee within fourteen days. Charles
ttaued this proclamation accordingly, and nine-
toen individuals came in to stand their trial,
hoping that, as ten had been fixed upon alremly
for execQtion, their lives, at least, would be
apnred; while nineteen or twenty, meaauring more
accuTKtfly the vindlctiveneaa of the Cavalieni
and Preabyteriane, hid themselves or fled beyond
sea. Then the commons selected twenty more
to be excepted out of the general act of obli-
vion, to sulTer nich penalties and forfeiturea,
not extending to life, aa should be thought fit to
be inflicted on them by an act to pass for that
purpoee,' These twenty were— Sir Harry Taiie,
St. John, Hazlerig, Ireton, Desboruugh, I^mbert,
Fleetwood, Axtell, Sydenham, Lenthall, Burton,
Keble, Pack, Blaekwell, Pyne, Dean, Creed, Nje,
Goodwin, and Cobbett. Nor did the oommoiia
stop here, going on to except from all benefit of
the indemnity such of the late kin^s judges as
had not surrendered upon the proclamation. And
in this state the bill of indemnity and oblivion
weatupto the lords, who found it much too moile-
rateand merciful. Their lordships began with a
vote of tlie must fierce nnd barbarous kind. "Tlie
lords were inclined to revenge their own order on
the persous of some in the High Court of Justice,
by whom some of their number had been con-
demned, and to except one of the judges fur
every lord they had put to death ; the uomliia-
tiou of the person to be except«d being referred
to tliut lord who was moat nearly related to the
liersoii that had suffered. According to this rule,
(Lionel Croxton was nominated by the next re-
lation to the Earl of Derby, Major Waring by
the kinsman of wiother, and Colonel Titchbuni
by a third : the Earl of Denbigh, whose sister
liBii been married to the Duke of Hamilton,
being desii-ed by the lords to nominate one to be
excepted in satisfaction for the death of his bro-
tlier-iu-law, named a peiwin who bad lueu some
time dead, of wliich some of the house being in-
formed, tliey called upon him to name another;
but he said that since it had so fallen out, he ile-
sired to lie excused from naming any more. This
action, although seeming to proceed from chance,
was generally esteemed to hav<> lieen voluntary.

the Earl of Denbigh being known to be a gener-
ous man and a lover of his country."' After
this return to the spirit of the execrable /ar
talionit of the most barbarous times, the lords
voted that M who had signed the death-warrant
gainst Charles I., or sat when sentence was ]>ro-
noitnced upon him, and six others not in that
category— namely. Hacker, Vane, Lambert, Ha-
zlerig, Axtell, and Peters— should be excepted,
as capital traitors, from the indemnity. They
were going on to make the bill more severe, bnt
the king was more eager for money than for
revenge, and, after several messages had been
sent from Whitehall by the Chancellor Claren-
don and others, praying the lords to despatcli
the bill, he liimself, re^u^llesB of the constitu-
tional rule, which precluded the sovereign from
taking any cognizance of a pending bill, sent
down a positive order to hasten their proceed-
ings, in order that tlie commons might pass that
for the grant of money. Hereupon the lotds,
without noticing the irregularity, returned ttie
bill of indemnity to the comraone with the altc-
nttlons we have mentioned ; and the commons
adopted it in that form. They, however, were
anxious to save the lives of Sir Harry Vane and
Geneml I^mbert ; and the lords joined with
them in an address to the king, praying that if,
after trial, these two should be attainted, execu-
tion should be remitted. The lords also agreed
that Lenthall, who had intrigued with the royal-
ists before the Beehiration, and had offered the
king a hj-ibe of X^UKX), sliould be spared both in
life and estate. That rash republican, Sir Al^
thur Hazlerig, who unwittingly had played into
the hands oF Monk, had a narrow escape; but
the astuciouB general who had dnped him step|>ed
in considerately, and saved his life. Whitelock,
that easy-tempered vaaaal of circumstances, was
aimed at by the fanatic Presbyterians, who de-
tested him because he had been active under
Oliver Cromwell iu promoting toleration; but it
was found, on a vot«, that he bad more friends
than enemies; and he, too, escaped.

As the principle that vengeance ihoiild tte
taken only upou the late king's judges was de-
)iarted from, it wan but natural to expect that
they should fall upon him who had been the
bosom friend of Cromwell, and who had de-
fended, in the eyee of all Europe, the pniceediugH
of the High C^urt of Justice. And the immor-
tal John Milton was committed to the custody
of the serjeant-at-arms, and threatened with de<
Ktniction, for having written his Defence of the
Englxth People, and his Eikonodtuta. His gli>-
rioua friend Andrew Marvel, and two other ad-
mirers of genius {awi no mart), raised their voices
i» tbe poet's favour. They were told that he hai!
• bAarr. For tin ImkHwui tote, •HalwUijlg'rit-AiirMWr

,v Google

652

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[C.V

) If lUTART.

been Latin secretary to Cromwell, And so d^
Berved to b« hanged; but in the end, after he had
been plundered by the serjeant-^t-iirma, who
called hia robberies /ee(, Milton escaped with do
Other piiniahmeiit tliui a general disqualification
for the public service, the public burning of his
Defen»io pro Populo Anglicano Mid EitorMdattei,
and the spectacle of the moi-al decline and politi-
cal degradation of his country, niider the misrule
of the restored Stuart. Prynne, who had many
of the properties of the bloodhound, would have
hunted down the weak, inoffensive, and amiable
Richard Cromwell, but no one would join him in
tliat chase; and the son of a great man, after
travelling for some time on the Continent, was
allowed to live quietly in the plenmnt retirement
of C'heshunt, In the end, twenty-nine victims
were ^ren over to the vengeance, rather than to
Uie justice of the courts of law, with a mocking
proviso in favour of such as had surrendered,
that Bent«nce should not be executed without
special act of parliament.

A number of otlier bills were hurrie*! through
the houses, and presented to the king at the same
time with this indemnity bill. Tlie duty of ton-
nage and poundi^, one of the great starting
points in ttie late revolution, was voted to Charles
/orli/e;t\ie king's birth.w]ay and glorious restora-
tion— the S9th of May— was made a perpetual
anniversary, to be observed with thankf^ving to
God for his miraculous delivenuice of this poor
nation; and anothsi' bill enacted that a speedy
provision of money should be made, to disband
the old army and navy. In giviug his assent
to these bills, which were presented with every
pofeible prostration, Charles told the speaker
that he willingly pardoned all such as the parlia-
ment had pardoned, and that he was much in
want of money, not having wherewith to keep
house at Whitehall. Presently after, a committee
was appointed to consider of settling a suitable
revenue on his sacred majesty. This committee
reported that it appeared that the revenue of
CliarlfB I., from the year 1637 to l&ll, had
amounted, on an average, to nbout i30(),()00, of
which .£AK),IX)0 flowed from sources that were
either not warranted by law, or now no longer
iivailable. Ciilculnting the diflei'ence in the value
of money, and contenting themselves with the
vague promises ofafaithlefls prince, the commons
proposed raising the royal income to ^l,30(),(>ni>
per aiiiium; but the means of providing this
money were reserved for consideration In another

Bat there remained something more dIfHcnIt
to bettle than indemnity or revenue; and this
was the great question of religion. Cliarlee, in
the declaration from Breda, had moat distinctly
imimised tolentiou. But this "Convention Par-

liament " was incapable of any such act, and the
nation at large was incapaUe of a generous tolera-
tion, which had only been npheld for a time bjr
the Bword of the Indepeudents and the wonder-
ful management of Olivw Cromwell. Charles
himself, uotwithstAodii^ the recent deelaration
of Clarendon, that he was the best Protestant iu
the kiDgdom, was, if he were anything in reli-
gion, a Catholic, even now; but be was certainly
no bigot, and, if he had been left to his own in-
dolence and indifierence, he would probably have
tolerated all sects alike: but the high churchmen
wanted back all their old pre-emisMKe^heir
property and thwr old power of persecuting, un-
diminished; and if the Preebyteriaaa, or th*
trimming portion of them, who had considered
themselves the national church uuder the Com-
monwealth, were disposed to tolerate and coaleaee
with a modified prelacy, they w<a>e resolved not
to tolerate any of the sects which had been known
under the general denomination of Independents.
On the 9th of July there was a stormy debata
in a grand committee of the commons upon
the Thirty-nine Articles; and then Sir Ueneagtt
Finch, as a leader of the high'Church and court
party, declared that the government of the church
by bishops had never been legally altered; and
that as for liberty for tender consciences, no Dian
knew what it was. After seven hours of very
unchristian -like contention, and a blowing-out
and re-lighting of candles, it was carried by s
dight majority that the settlement of religion
should be left to the king, who " should be peti-
tioned to convene a select numt>er of divines to
treat concerning the matter."' It wss voted that
whatever had belonged to the king and queen, or
all the crown lands, should be restored fortli-
witli ; but the question of the church lands was
left in abeyance for the presenL The n:
bill, which aimed at the immediate r
of all the clergy who had been expelled, and the
expulsion of all who had been inducted by the
Commonwealth men or by Crorawell, was car-
ried, but with a large proviso — that the intrusive
churchmen should not be bound to give back
those livings which were legally vacant when
they obtained them. But there was another
pi<oviso which, however harmless to the mass of
the Preebyteriaiis, was fatal to all such Indepen-
dent ministers as Cromwell had put into the
church, for it excluded every incumbent that had
not been ordaiued by an ecclesiastic, or had re-
nounced his ordination, or had petitioned fur
bringing the late kiug to trial, or had justitini
that trial and execution in presching or in writ-
ing, or had committed himself in the vexed
question of infant baptism. These bills satisfinl
no party and no sect. The royalists complained

»Google

A.D. 1660—1661.1

CHARLES IT.

653

of their being left to suffer the consequences of ] their chancellors, officials, proctors, paritore, Biid
their forfeituru, sequestrations, and compoBitions i powera; declaring tliat thej could not grant that
for delinquency, under the Long Parliament and . the extent of any diocese should be altered or
Cromwell; and they called the first great bill "n ' anything reformed; and affirming that the laying
bill of indemnity for the king's enemies, and of aside of the Book of Common Prayer was one
oblivion for his friends." l of the greatest causes of the misfortunes of the

On the 13th of ISeptember diaries made a very : nation, &c. But the Presbyterians were told that
short, and Clarendon a veiy long speech to tlie his majesty would adjust all tliese ditferences ;

The cbai
thought it expedient to speak
to the Buapiciona already enter-
tained of the king's desire of
keeping up a strong standing
army, and of governing abso-
lutely, and to defend the court
against the popular and well-
founded charges of profligacy
and irreligion. ' And, at the
close of this long speech, parlia-
ment adjourned to the 6th of
November.

During the recess "the heal-
ing qaeetlou* of religion waH
discussed, and ten of the regi-
cides were butchered.

The learned A rchhtsliop Usher,
who wa« a Calvinist iu diKrtriiial
creed, and whose Episcopaliau-
ism was very nioilerate, had left,
as a legacy to the Protestant
world, a scheme of union and a
plan of chur<,-h govern iiieut (by
suffragan bisliops and synods or
presbyteries conjointly) which,
he had fondly ho]>ed, might re-
concile the two great secta. The
Presbyterians, in their hopeless-
ness of obtaining an entire su-
premacy, profeaaeil their wiltiug-
neiw to make this scheme the
basis of an agreement and con-

conl ; and they delivered the ^mper to the king Calaniy
with an humbleaddress concerning godly preach-
ing, the strict observance of the Sabbath, &c.

Tliey were promised a meeting with some Epis-
copal divines before the king; hut none of that ] by
lieraiiHsion deigned to attend ; anil, instead of a
meeting, the Presbyterian ministers reoeiveil a
)Niper, written in the old and bitter spirit of con-
troversy, rejecting their propnanls; insisting that
the Anglican hierarchy was the true, ancient, pri-
mitive Episcopacy, and that the ancient a[)nstol|-
cal bishops had their courts, their prerogatives,

and they, together with the
Episcopalians, were invited to
attend him, on the 22d of Octo-
ber, at the house of the chan-
cellor. There the Presbyterians
found assembled his majesty.
Monk, Duke of Albemarle (who
was a Presbyterian through his
wifej, the Earl of Manchester,
Denzit Hollis (the most fiery of
Presbyteriana), the Duke of Or-
mond (a high churchman), and
one or two other noblemen of
the same persuasion, together
with Dr. Sheldon (Bishop of
London), Dr. Morley (Bishop
of Worcester), Dr. Henchman
(Bishopof Salisbury), the famous
Dr. Cosens (who had been one of
the most active coadjutors of
lAud, who had been prosecuteil
by the Long Parliament, and
who was promoted to the bishop-
ric of Durham a few weeks after
this meeting), Dr. Uaudeu
(Bishop of Ejteter), Dr. Hacket
(Bishop of Lichfield and Cov-
entry), the Episcopalian Dr.
Gunning, the Presbyterian Dm.
Spurstow and Wallis, and some
two or three others. The Pres-
byterians intrusted their caiUK
to the eloquence and learning of
ter. The debate could scarcely lie
otherwise than hot: on iHith sides the ndinm theo-
logiaim wasintense: on both sides there was ai

vuE. Ikrl of CImwiiIou.'

Id tha Itaka at Vnrl

Lt Lhfi Unka of Yoik fot mj loTd-fllivicvIJar^ dAUfhtsr vi
Ud; th&t high |ftn)blinf vu bsoDmiiig oolamDn At court; 11
■t p«|ila vm ba(iiiiiiB| la opu thdi arH 1

that the business had lieen 8ettlF<l liefore
'fragable arguments. The Presbyterians
said tliat the Eikmi Baiiliki sliowetl that Ilia
late majesty had approved of Archbishop Usher's
scheme; but the king, who knew very well that
his father bad not written it, said that all in that
Wik was not gosjiel. The Chancellor ( 'larendon
t^ild the contruvei'MJaliKts tliat it was projiosed to
adr| the following clause to the declaration for

religions liberty:— "That othert »\iii\\ alsobeper-

i ihg I 'nitleil to meet for religions womliip, so be they
buth ' do it not to the disturbance of the peace, and
'' I that no justice of the peace or offirer shall disturb

w hj wmUun IMitt Kanhall, R.A., [n Ht.

»Google

651

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil a

) MiLlTART.

them." The Presbyteriana saw at ouce thut un-
der tfaie wont othert there waa aa inteation to
include the Papista. They, however, were aileut
until Baxter, fearing that silence might be inter-
preted into conseiit, said that Papists and So-
ciui&na had lieen expressly excepted or excluded
from toleration; and he called for the rigid exe-
cution of the penal laws. Here Cliitried intei^
fered, and tlie assembly was presently broken up.
The royal declaration concerning ecclesiaatical
afEiirs, coinraonly called the " Healing Declara-
tion," waa published a few days after, being dated
Whitehall, October the 25th, 1660. It contained
many Lai^e concessions to the most powerful of
the sects, which the Presbj'terian leaders accep-
ted -with enthusiastic gratitude, not foreaeeing
tlmt neither the king nor his ministers would
consider themselves bound by this dei^laration
when the army should be completely disbanded,
nud the present Convention Parliament dissolved.
The death of the regicides had been pre-deter-
mined. It waa now i-eaolved that the prisoners
should be tried at Newgat« by a commission of
j^ delivery; that all the pHaonera should be ar-
raigned at ouce; that the indictment should be
for compassing and imagining the death of the
late king, &c. It appears that proceedings were
delayed until the appoiiitinent of new sherifTs, it
being apprehtuided that the old sheriffs would
not permit juries to be packed. But at length
the bills were sent up and found agaiust twenty-
nine peraous:— Sir Hardrees Waller, Harrison,
Carew, Cook, Hugh Peters, Scott, Gregorj- Cle-
ment, Scrope, Jones, Hacker, Axtetl, Hevening-
ham, Martin, MiUington, Tichbura, Roe, Kil-
burn, Harvey, Pennington, Smith, Dowue, Potter,
Garland, Fleetwood, Meyn, J. Temple, P. Temple,
Hewlet, and Waite; and on the 9th of October
their trial was begun at the Old Bailey, liefore
thirty-four commiaaiouers appointed by thecrowu.
These commissioners wet«— Sir Thomas Alleyii
(lord-mnyor elect), the Chancellor Ckreudon,
the Eai'l of Soutliampton (lord - trcMurer), the
Dukeof Somerset, theDuke of Albeniurle(Mouk),
the Marquis of Ormond (steward of his majeatj'!-
household), the Earl of Lindsay (great chamber-
lain of England), the Earl of Manchester (cham-
berlain of his majesty's household), the Earl of
Dorset, the Earl of Berkshire, the Earl of Sand-
wich (late Admiral bloutague). Viscount Suy and
Sele,the Lord Roberts, the Lord Finch, Mr. Deii-
zil Hollis, Sir Frederick Comwaltis (treasurer of
hie majeisty'H hnuaehold), Sir Charles Berkeley
(comptroller of his majesty's household), Mr.
Secretary Nicholas, Mr. Secretary MoiTice, Sir
Antony Ashley Coojicr, Arthirr Annealcy, &q.
(the lord chief-lmron), Mr. Justice Fottlcr, Mr.
Justice Mallet, Mr. Juatice Hyde, Mr. Baron
Atkins, Mr, Justice TwiJidcii, Mr. Justice Tyr-

rel, Mr. Baron Turner, Sir Harbottle Grimstoii,
Sir William Wild (recorder of London). Mr. Sei-
jeant Brown, Mr. Serjeant Hale, and Mr. John
Howel. The counsel for the crown were Sir
Geoffrey Palmer (attorney -general). Sir Heneage
Finch (solicitor-general), Sir Edward Turner (at-
torney to the Duke of York), Serjeant Keiliug,
and Mr. Wadham Windham. All these men,
whether humiliated Preabyterians and Long Par-
liament men, or old royalists, were deadly and
personal enemies to the prisoners, though many
of them had been in the van of the late revolu-
tion, and bad drawn others into courses of which
no man could calculate the end. Fifteen of the
commissioners who now, notwithstanding all tlie
care taken to draw a line between those that
began the Civil war and those that ended it, went
bound to assent to the proposition that all war
waged against a king, whatever the provocation,
was high treason, had actually been engaged for
the parliament, against Charles I., aa memberB of
tluit parliament, aa judgea, or as ofGceta of the
army; and most, if not all of them, had enjoyed
places of trust and profit under the revolutionary
parliament.

Before the court, the first on the liat of regi-
cides. Sir Hardreea Waller, pleaded guilty, and
BO saved his life. But when Harrison, the aecond
on the liat, waa brought to the bar, there was no
sign of penitence or submission. The repnblicwi
major-general, the enthnsiaatic Fifth Monarchy
Man, looked calmly on the tribunal, where every
man waa his personal enemy, and said, " My
lords, the matter that hath been ofiei-ed to jou
was not a thing done in a comer. I believe the
sound of it hath been in most nations. I b«lievt^
the hearts of some have felt the terror* at that
jiresence of God that waa witli bis Mrrants in
tlioae days, and are still witnesses that the thing
WHS not done in a corner. I do profess that I
would not offer, of myself, tlie leaat injury tu tlie
poorest man or woman tliat gocth upon ihe earth.
But in the late king's death I was led by Heavens
I followed not mine own simple judgment. Idiil
what I did as out of coniicience to the Lord 1 Ai.d
when I found that Cromwell— that those who
were as tlie apple of mine eye were turning aaidc,
I did loathe them, and suffered imprisonment
divers years mthertlian tnru,aaao many did thnt
hadput their hands to this plough. 1 chose rather
to be sepai-ated from wife and family than to have
co]n|>lianc(; with them, or with kim, tliough it
was mid to me, 'Sit thou on my right hand!'
May be I have been in some thinga a little mis-
taken; but I did it all according to tite best of my
understanding, desiring to make llie revealed will
of God ill Ilia Holy Scriptni'es my sole guide. 1
humbly conceive that what was done wns done
in the name of the parliament of England ; thai

»Google

4D. 1660— 1601.)

CHARLES n.

60 1>

what waa done waa doue hy their power and I
authority; and that it is my duty to Buggeat unto
you ill the beginning, thai neither this cnurt, nor
any court below the high court of parliaraetit, ,
hath « jurisdictiou of their actions' When he ^
aaserted that all he had done had been doue for '
the service of the Lord, the court intemipted j
liitu, aa they had done aevend times twfore, and
told hiro tliat he must not run into these damna- |
hie excuraiona, or attempt to nmlce Uod the au- |
thor of the damnable treason committed. Yet
Harriann sincerely believed (as raunyothera did)

UUDR QCHtaiAL U IRKUUS. — FluU i [.UC pilnt.

that in putting Charles to death, he did that
which was not only essential to the well-beiuj;
of hia country, but also acceptable to heaven,
which, according to his heated imagination, had
not apored ita Hiiecloi inspiration and command.
And yet, at the moment of crisis, the natural
tenderness of his heart had atruggled hard with
his enthusiasm; audhehad weptas wellasprayeil 1
before be could bring himself to vote the king's
death. He now heard hia own sentence of death
for treason without emotion, saying, as he was
withdrawn from the bar, that he had no reason to
be ashamed of the cause in which he had been
engaged.

Colonel Carew, who entertained the same no-
tions both iu politics and religion as Harrison,
made the same sort of defence, and din]>layed 1
the same enthnaiasm, courage, and fortitude, j
He exclaimed, "I can say in the presence of the
Lord, who is the searcher of all hearts, that
what I did was in hia fear; and that I did it in
oheilience to his holy and righteous laws!* He
gave a striking epitome of the history of the late
troubles from tlieir beginning, showing the causes
and provocations which had led to the Civil war.

and the unanimity which had for so long a tjma
existed between lords aiid commona. " I say,"
he exclaimed, "that the lords and commona, by
their joint declaration' .... "Holdl hold!"
sliouti^d one of the judges who had repeatedly
interrupted him before. " You go to raise up
those differences which are asleep, to make new
troubles, to revive those things which, by the
grace of God, are extinct. . . The commons tried
the king. Did you ever hear of an act of parlia-
ment made by the House of Commons alone?
You have do precedent." To this Carew replied
in two or three words, which embraced the whole
difficulty of the caae ; " Neither was there ever
such a war or such a precedent." Arthur An-
nesley, a Preabyteriau member of the Long Par-
liament, who was created &trl of Anglesey soon
after these state trials, and who is described by
Bishop Burnet as " a man of a grave deportment,
but that stuck at nothing, and was ashamed of
nothing," reproached the prisoner with the for-
cible exclusion of all the Presbyterian members
in 1646. " I was a stranger,* said Carew, "to
many of those things which you charge against
me; but this ia strange — ffou give eeidenee 04 a
vitiiegi, though titling here at a judge!' When
he attempted to address the jury he was brutally
interrupted. " I have deaired,' aaid he, " to speak
the words of truth and aoberness, but have been
liindereil." Then, with the air of a martyr glory-
ing in his cause, he listened to the hurried ver-
dict and the atiocious sentence.

Colonel Scrope, an accomplished and amiable
man, who had surrendered under the royal pro-
clamation, and who had been regularly admitted
to the king's pardon upon penalty of a year's
value of hia estate, aa a fine to tlie crown, waa
condemned upon the evidence of the Presbyte-
rian Major-general Brown, who deposed, that in
a private conversation in the speaker's chamber,
Scrope had said to him that there would still be
a difference of opinion among men touching the

ecution of the late king.

Hany M'artin, the wit of the House of Com-
mons, and one of the stancheat republicans that
ever sat in it, demanded the benefit of the act
of oblivion. He was told that he must plead
guilty or not guilty. He attempted to apeak aa
to his conception of that act ; but he was again
coarsely interrupted, and (old tliat he must plead.
" If I plead,' said Martin, " I lose the benefit of
the act.' He was told that he waa totally excep-
teil out of the act " No," said he, " my name in
not in the act," "Showhim the act of indemnity,"
said the solicitor-general. The act was showD.
"Here," said the droll, "it ia Henry Martin. My
name Ja not so; it is Harry Martin." The court
told him that the difference of the «>un(/ waa very
little. " 1 humbly conceive,' rejoined he, " that

»Google

65^

HISTTORT or EN'GLASD.

all penal ttatutta tmt^t to ht cnn«ctlT woni^."
Aa be wan not permiic«i to aand oa tbe mi3ai>-
Bker, be pltaiieA nut gnihj. He suU hit di<l a-it
(teclioe a cnnfeaHion an Co m^ter of fact, proviiletl
the Moiux were set aHiite, a« he had ilooe outbiug
malicioQsIjormariierTnialyimii traitijroualy. Tlie
eonDael for tbe crown Uo^hcd in his face. The
■oliintoT-general aaiil uarcaKti'.'^y, 'Mv lunl. he

does think a tnan maj sit upon the death of a
king, WDtence faim lo death, bign a warrant for
hia execution, meekly, iunoceutlj, charitably, and
honestly.' " We shall prove," said the crown
coonael, "we afaall then prove against the pri-
noner— becanse he woald wipe off malice — that
he did all rety merrily, and waa in great sport
at the time of signing the warrant for tbe king's
eiecntion.* "Then, surely, that does not imply
malice," aaid the ready-wilted Martin. Here a
nerving man, of the came of Ewer, who had
"sometime serred bini" (the priaooer), was put
into the witness-box. After being brow-beaten
by the eonnsel, this man &aid, " My lord, I did
seek pen in Mr. Cromwell's hand, and be marked
Mr. Martin in the face with it, and Mr. Martin
did the like to him ; but I did not see any one Bet
hia hand (to the king's sentence), though 1 did see
parchment there with a great many seals on it."
[And this is all the evidence we possess for a slory
which is constantly quoted to prove the barbar-
on« Mid rustical buffoonery of Oliver CromwelL]
After this Ewer ktd spoken to prove "how merry
Martin was at the sport," Sir Purbeck Temple
■poke to prove " how serious he was at it,' and
how he had been the first to propose that the late
king should be prosecuted in tbe name uf tbe

[ClTO. aXD HlUTART.

aemUed, and <^ all tbe
zi)ud people of Fn gland. After a litUe eoosolta-
tLia the jury retunted a verdict of guilty; but
the near prospect of a horrible death conld not
abate the coacaj^ of tbe witty Harry Martin,
who left lbs cvurt with a light heart and <l«ady
,tep.

The conn ha>l resolved to fix tbe act of behead-
]nq the late king upon William Hewlet. The
evidence produced in this case for the prosecution
i>ught not lo have been considered sufficient to
hang a dog. Tbe gnaiest weight of testimony
went to prove that it waa not Captain Hewlet,
but the conunoo hangman, that cutoff the king's
bead fur a reward of iJO. Tet a verdict of
^iliy wad returned against Hewlet. There was,
however, aume sense ot shame left in this re-
?t.>red g'rvernment : and, as people began to talk
luudly of (he inauficieucy of the proofs against
htm. Hewlet was not executed.

GarUtad, another uf tbe selected victims, said
thai he had come into court with the intention of
^■ubQlittiDg to tilt king's mercy; but that, having
heard some fresh scandid cast upon him which be
had never hiz^rd before, be must desire to be put
iil'in bis trial. The scandal waa that he, on the
day of seotrnce, did spit in the king's face^ " I
Am williut' to confess thid,'Baid the prisoner — "1
sat in the high court, and I signed the warrant
for his execution.' "■ And we will prove,* said
the solicitor -general, "that he did spit in the
king's hce.' "I pray you,* said Garland ear-
neatly, " I pray yon let me bear that. Bnt for
that false scandal, I would not have put you to
any troable at alL" Here one Clench, a low Mid
needy person, was produced to swear that he saw
G^land spit, and tbe king put bis hand in bia
left pocket, though whetber hia majesty wiped it
off or not he could not say. "Tbe king wiped it
ofl^" said the Bolicitor-general,pretending to know
more than this the sole witness did; ''but he will
never wipe it off so long as he lives.' " I am
afraid,* said Garland, " this witneas is an indigent
person. If I was guilty of this inhumanity, I
desire no favour from Almighty God. . . . You
cannot be satisfied that I did such an inhnnuu)
act. I dare appeal to all the gentlemen bwe, or
any othera, whether they ever heard of such a
thing; nor was I ever accused of it till now.*
He appealed to all that knew him to say whetber
hefaadevershowuany malignity, any disrespect;
whether, instead of ever doing any wrong to any
fif the king's party when in distress, he had not
helped them as much as be was able. He was
.'Ondemned with the rest, but sentence was never
executed— a pretty plain proof that tbe story
about the spitting was even then discredited.

John Coke, the able lawyer who had conduc-
ted the prosecution i^aiust tbe king aa aolicitw

D„i,z,c=, Google

*.i). 1660—1661.] CHAR

for the Commonwealth Mid people of England,
pleaded that he could not be aaiil to have con-
trived or counielled the dentti of Ch&rlee, because
the proclamation for the trial, even by the confea-
Bion of hia tKCiueia, viaa published the day before
he was appoitit«d solicitor to the High Court of
Justice; that he who had neither been accuser,
witness, jury, judge, or eiecutioiier, could not be
^ilty of treason, &c But this reasoning was
not likely to be of any avail ; and it was settled
that Coke should be one of the first to suffer.

Hugh Pet«rs, the celebrated preacher, who was
not so directly implicated in the king's death aa
many who were allowed to
escape, was charged with
encouraging the soldiery to
cry out for justice — with
comparing the kiog to Ba-
rabbas — wiUi preaching
upon the texts, "They shall
bind their kings in chains,"
" Whoso sheddeth man's
blood, by man shall his
blood be shed," aud the
like. Pet«rs, whose fana-
ticism has been esaggeraU
ed, and whose merits have
been overlooked, pleaded
that he had been living
fourteen years out of Eng-
land; that when he came
home he found the Civil
wars begun ; that he had begun
bad been the trumpeter of any ; that he had
fled from the war into Ireland ; that he waa
iinther at Edgehill wi Kaseby; that he had
looked after three things— that thers might be
■ound religion, that learning and lavs might be
muntained, and that the suffering poor might
be cared for—and that he had spent most of his
time in theee things; that, upon being sunimoned
into England, he conaidered it his duty to side
with the parliament for the good of his conntiy,
and that in so doing he had acted without malice,
avarice, or ambition, being respectful to his ma-
jesty, and kind and merciful to the royalist suf-
ferers whenever he was able. The jury, after very
little coniultstion, returned a verdict of guilty.

Colouels Axtell and Ilacker, who had assisted
at the trial and execution, pleaded that, as mili-
tary men, they were bound, under pain of death
by martial law, to obey the orders of their supe-
riors; that the Earl of Essex, the Earl of Mau-
ohesl^r, Sir Thomas Fairfax, and even Monk
(who sat upon the bench as one of their judges),
had set them an example ; that whatever they
had done had been by an authority that was not
only owned and obeyed at home, but also acknow-
ledged by princes and states abroad to be the

Vol. II.

JS IL 657

chief authori^of the nation; and that the judges
of England, who ought to be the eye and guide
of the people, liad acted under that authority,
divers of them publicly declaring that it was law-
ful to obey iu But the jufy returned a hasty
verdict of guilty against them.

The first that suffered was Major-general Har-
rison—Harrison, whose honest, soldier-like ap-
pearance and gallant bearing had removed the
suspicions aud excited the involuntary admira-
tion of the captive Charles.' On tlie 13th of
October he waa drawn upon a hurdle froni New-
gate to Charing Cross, within sight of Whitehall,

Bih>'b-iti View or Chabiho Caoo.— Pran Aggu'i PIu of LoodOB (IMO)-

where the late king had suffered. His moat sin-
cere enthusiaam, political as well as religious,
glowed more warmly than ever at the close ap-
proach of torture and death. As he waa drag-
ged along, his countenance being placid and even
cheerful, a low wretch in the crowd called after
him in derision, and said, " Where is your good
old cause now r Harrison, with a smile, clap-
ped his band on his heart, and said, "Here it is;
and I am going to seal it with my blood !" and
several times on his way he said aloud, " I go
to suffer upon the account of the most glorious
cause that ever was in the world." He ascended
the scaffold under the tall gibbet with an un-
daunted countenance ; and thence be made a
speech of some length to the multitude, telling
them that they themselves bad been witnesses
of the finger of God iti the deliverance of the
people from their oppressors, and in bringing to
judgment those that were guilty of blood; that
many of tbe enemies of the Commonwealth were
forced to oonffAS that Ood waa with it. The
courtly crew that gained most by the event, tliat
onceivably vain of a few insignificant
graces they had borrowed from the French dur-
ing their eompulsory travels, made it their boast

»Google

658

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

Civil akd Uiutikt.

that the BeatorKtion was the bright dnwa of
eivilizKtioa to this grosa aDd benighted island ;
but ID tnith the best parta of civilization were
darkened and not bingbtened, and hunianttj' and
decency, which had been adranciug, were made
to retix^rade with gi&nt strides. The revoltiDg
indecendes, the atrocious cruelties which had
been awarded iu the dark ages in cases of tfea-
Bou, but from which the Commonwealth men
and Cromwell had turned with horror and dis-
gust, were all revival; the sentence was eiecnted
upon Harrison to the verjr letter; and the Mcond
Charles, whose vices have been Tamiahed by cer-
tain writera till the; look almost like virtues,
and till he appean in the light of an easy, good-
natured, and debonnair prince, a little dissipated
and nothing worse, witnessed at a sliort distance
the detestable scene. Harrison was cut down
alive, and saw his own bowels thrown into the
fire, and then he was quartered, and hia heart, yet
palpitating, was torn out and shown to the peo-
ple. The following daj was a Sunday, but on
the day after, the 15th of October, John Carew
ButTered the same pains in the like manner, de-
claring with hia last breath, that if it were to be
done Again he would do it, and that the blessed
cause would not be lost. The day following. Coke
and Hugh Peteia were drawn to the same sham-
bles. In the hurdle which carried Coke was
placed the ghastly head of Harrison, with the
face uncovered and turned towards Coke, who
was, however, animated by the sight with fresh
courage instead of being overpowered with fear
and horror. The people expressed their detes-
tation of such nsage. On the scaffold Coke de-
ehu«d, among other things, that he bad been
earnest for the reform of the laws and for the
eipeditioQS and cheap administration of justice;'
and that, as for the part he had borne in the action
with which he was charged, he was far from re-
penting what he had done, and moat ready to
seal it with his blood. Hugh Peters was made
to witness all the horrible details of Coke's exe-
cution, sitting witliin the rails which surrounded
the scaffold. While there, a man upbraided him
with the king's death, using opprobrious lan-
guage. "Friend," said Peters, " you do not well
to trample upon a dying man; you are greatly
mistaken ; I had nothing to do in the death of the
king." And the old preacher, who had lived in
storms and whirlwinds, died with a quiet smile
on his countenance. On the next day Scott,
Clement, Serope, and Jones suffered ; and, on
the day after that, Hacker and Axtell. Some of
these ten men were oppressed with age and sick-
ness, but there was not one of them that betmjed

either fear or repentance. Notwithstanding the
great pains taken at different periods to Iwutalize
I them, the English people have never been able
I to tolerate any very prolonged exhibition of this
I kind. " Though the regicides," sayv Burnet,
" were at that time odious beyond all expreBei<m,
and the trials and executions of the first that
suffered were run to by vast crowds, and all peo-
ple seemed pleased with the sight, yet Uie odious-
ness of the crime grew at last to be so much flat-
tened by the frequent executions, and by most
of those who suffered dying with much firmnem
and show of piety, justifying all they had done,
not without a seeming joy for their suffering on
that account, that the king was advised not to
proceed fartlier; or, at least, not to kavt Ike teau
to n«ar the court cu Ckarinff Crott.'* The pro-
ceases of banging, drawing, and quartering were
therefore suspended for the present, bat with the
evident intention of renewing them at aome
future time; and though iu the end none of die
other nineteen victims now condemned suffered
death,other victims did, and the fateof nearly all
of the nineteen that were sentenced and spsisd
was as hard as perpetual imprisonment, dnn-
geona, and beggary could make it. Hairy Mar-
tin lay in prison expecting death, bat some of
the royalists visited him, and advised him to
petition parliament. In his petition the witty
republican stud that he had surrendered in re-
liance upon the king's declaration of Breda, and
that he hoped that be who had never obeyed any
royal proclamation before should not be hanged
for taking the king's word now. The commons
took no step on the side of mercy; and thoae
members who prided thewselves on their gtmvity
and godliness opined that tlie wit onght to die.
Butthelordswere more merciful; the Lord Falk-
land and other peers spoke warmly in his behalf,
and, after four months of doubt, Martin got tlw
sentence of death remitted.*

About a month before the execution of Harri-
son the Duke of Qloucester died of the tmall-pox.
And about a fortnight after the executions, the
queen-mother, Henrietta Haria, with the prin-
cess royal and a numerous train of fVench no-
bles, arrived, and was received with great state
and triumph. To prepare the way for the widow
of the " glorious martyr," a lying lite of her had
been published ;* but the Londoners conld not
altogether forget facta or overcome their old an-

SiMt, Utf^tiu ItftUiOa: Dtariapf Prrma^^^f^: f-
main nf Jjulitim nnd Mrt. Hvlrkiium,- Burwit. Ilitarnf Itil
Owi Ti'nn; TriaU ^ Marl
Fontor. Uiaq/Saiiu

• P*IiT« nn luaitlallj, tint Uik " tiVOj wi
"ded1at*d la Hut puxiDn dT tlrtw uid baaut]
B/AlbHurii --■.(. H«ik'>«lta.

,v Google

A,D. 1660—1661.]

CHARLES II.

659

.mlto,.;, lh.j .howrf Ml^ pb>,dr lb.t b„ m «c«. to p»™ot. Ih. ™„i;^, „d U, bl™

L*r' !JL'. H^ IT'S" J'r'i^"'", '^""'- '"'»" '' "IW»« •" «•' I-""™" ■« W it
ter, a™. H,d., M Wa d.b,„«i „| . „„, g^, d.bM.' And .boat ,lx w«k, .f„r H,«-
onlj. .bout „, ,„!„ .ftor b«- m^-^^ to tb. ! ri.tt. Mori.', „rivJ « „„„ ,b, „„,„, ,„
Duk, of Yo,k, ,b., bow.v.,, w„ ..id to b.,. I poblWjr „„rf, »d tb. nobillt, .od^oT^

riog,, w,tb b„ .bout . j«» belor..' Tb. pride ol York, »bo .„ .till .t btr (.tbrf, i„ W^
ft ?i 'T";?,, .^', ;". «™"''' '"""^ '' "=*» '''•""■ •' "" Strand, rt.™ tb« mrri.™

? Jr* .!^ '^'""""■"'^ '"' " '-"' P'rf»™«l."d Jl ki«d hor Zf.
daughters, the PrmcesB of "auu.

Oraiige and th« Princess
Henrietta, were equ&lljr
violent against it. The
king had also felt, or pre-
tended, strong objections;
but from various accounts,
we are disposed to believe
that be was all along jealous
of his brother, and not very
son? to see bim take a step
which vould lessen bim in
the eyes of the world. Cla-
rendon, the father of the
stray lady— the model and
idol of politicians of a cer-
tain class -~ professed the
Kreatest horror and abhor-
rence of the mischiefs which
such & mitaUiancB would
produce on royalty; and he
informs us himself that he told bis master Charles
" that be had much rather his daughter should
be the duke's whore than his wife;" that if the
marriage had really taken place, he would give
a positive judgment " that the king should imme-
diately canse the vioman, to be sent to the Tower,
aud to be cast into a dungeon, under so strict a
guard that no person living should be pennitt«d
to come to her, and then, that an act of parlia-
ment should be immediately passed for the cut-
ting off her head, to which he would not only
give his consent, but would very willingly be the
first man to propose it" But, notwithstanding
this mock Virginius-tm on the wi-ong side, the

VottOBon Hom*.'— Fko ■ dnwiBi h] HollM, ii

A few days after, the Princess of Orange, who
had come over to salute the king, her brother,
died of the small-pox; but these melancholy
events scarcely checked for a moment the immo-
rality of Charles's court.* A marriage was pro-
posed between the Princess Henriettaand Philip,
Duke of Orleans, only brother of Louis XIV.,
which took place soon after.

The Convention Parliament had met again on
the Sth of November. The commons announced
that they hud prepared a bill for giving the
king*B " healing declarHtion' about religion the
force of law; and the Presbyterian minietem
presented an address to his majesty, thanking

Ud with hv," ij. vlUi Anna H JiU.
ii wordi, wtd uld Ihit Iw hid anly II
IT of thl TDTiil ttmilj. flach > acoi

' WoraMsr Huwt. Uia LoDdBB miileiu* of tba Eub of Woi-
<»tsr. wiiariidniUlltD-n-boiIHofUiaBiabotialirCulU* It
wu «itak1«d bMvvn Durhun Pliue uid tb* Savoj, ud hid
futSwu atflodliif to Iha w«l4i

udEiriofFUnoiithl
' dmliAnaliontfOit Lift vf BdmrA, BaH i>f Cfaroultm. wrilU

■ "Thaqnaa voold bin fam nndona <l, bnt H iHimi inatto
a of tba otumnUor^ lo bafrtood tl

n porfonnlnfl bat

»Google

660

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

Lim for that grateful act. But Charlea, ClEkren-
doD, and the bishopa had fullf arranged mea-
sures for converting this healing declariition Into
a piece of waste paper. The bill for making it
law was lost in the House of Commons bj a
roajoritj of 163 to lfi7, and tbe duped Fresbjte-
liana were whistled down the wind. Conformitj
to the Church of England was now the law; and
the Presbyterians, instead of having part in per-
secuting the Catholics and sectarians, had a share
in their sufTerings. Having made this arrange-
ment to please the court, the Convention Parlia-
ment proceeded with other gratifying bills; and,
on the 8th of December, they attainted Oliver
Cromwell, Ireton, and Bradshaw. l^is Tot«
had another meaning besides that of the forfei-
ture of the property of the dead, which was too
insignificant to excite the cupidity of the waste-
ful and needy Charles, or the selfish mean-souled
courUers: on the 30th of January of the follow-
ing year, the anniversarj of the death of Charles
I., the solemn recesses of Westminster Abbey
were invaded by a brutal crew, acting by autho-
rity of the restored king and clergv; the graves
were broken open, the coffins of Cromwell, Ire-
ton, and Bradshaw were put upon hurdles and
dragged to Tyburn; there, being pulled out of
their coffins, their mouldering bodies were banged
"at the several angles of the triple tree* till sunset,
wbenthej were taken down and beheaded. Their
bodies, or, as the court chronicler calls them,
" their loathsome carcaaBeB," were thrown into &
deep hole uniler the gallows; their heada were

■■]6Si.^ortmisiife^icnim
no 36s&°Mc C^iud

•et upon poles on the top of Westminster Hall.*
With the same decent loyalty the dean and
chapter of Westminster, acting nnder his ma-

■ Thia tMcription ii oopied from u ImprHKioo takm from i
(lit sgpiHr pUU, fmuid Ijlncon thobimt of thaewiBD, whor
tb* ga-n utd acOa at CitminU wen OaKntid. Tho Impm
•loB wu taken from ttaa ptite In ITfll.

< Onia ariUBaonun, At tbii and of Whuton'i Almanat, m
qoMail In Huite' Ufi tf CnimKU. II ippBun tliat InllH nnl

[Civn. AMD MiLITlRT.

jesty's warrant and their own zeal, afterwards
exhumed the bodies of all who had been buried
in the Abbey aince the beginning of the Civil
wars, and threw them in a heap into a deep pit
dug in St. Margaret's Churchyard. Among othera
the inofPensive remains of Oliver Cromwell's mo-
ther and daughter, who had both been modela
of domestic virtue; of Dorislaus, one of the law-
yers employed on the trial of the late king, who
had been basely murdered in Holland by Uie
retainers of the present king; of May, the ac-
coroplbhed translator of the Phartcdia and his-
torian of the Long Parliament, whose mild and
comprehensive language we have so frequently
quoted ; of Pym, that great and learned cham-
pion of English liberty; and of Blake, the re-
nowned and honest -hearted, the first of naval
heroes, were torn from the aacred asylum of the
tomb, and cast like dogs into that foul pit.

Notwithstanding its base compliances, Charles
was anxious to be rid of the Convention Parlia-
ment, of the legality of whose first assembling
and constitution some doubts were entertained
by lawyere. His ministers hastened the prc^reaa
of the money bills, and agreed to accept half of
the revenue derived from the excise, in lieu of the
profits formerly drawn from the Court of Wards,
which the Commonwealth men had abolished;
and the chancellor told them that King Charles,
whose time was notoriously spent with mistreaaea
and profligates in theatres and midnight revels,
was, like another Oonatantine, constantly em-
ploying himself in conferences with learned men
for the settlement of the "langnishing church."'

Clarendon assured them, moreover, that a
desperate plot had been discovered to rescue the
condemned r^cides, seize the Tower, Whitehall,
and Windsor Castle, and, by means of an insur--
rection in the counties, headed by Oeneral Lud-
low, to restore the Commonwealth. General
Ludlow was at this moment as far off as Swit-
zerland, trembling for his own life, which was
threatened many times by royalist aasaaains. It
is true that there waa an imane riot in London
a few days after the delivery of the chancelloi's
speech in parliament; but the number of the
rioters was so insignificant, and the whole thing
so unconcerted and hopeless, that it could not
have been either foreseen or dreaded when it
actually occnrred. On the night of the 6th of
January, Venner, a wine-cooper and Fifth Mon-
archy Man, who had been in trouble for aimilar
outbreaks in Cromwell's time, and who was de-
cidedly mad, inflamed some fifty or sixty vision-
aries by vehement preaching; and theaa smu

»Google

A.D. 1660—1661.]

CHARLES II.

nuhed from his conTcnticle ia the city, and pro-
clium«d "King Jesas!" Tbej broke the hendB
of wme incrediilooB watchmen and city guards,
but fled before the lord-mayor and the people
who took op arms. They concealed themselves
for tiro days in Caen Wood, between the Tillages
of Highg&to and Hampstead, during which Ume
the Icvd-mayor pulled down their meeting-houae
in the city. On the 9th of January they re-
tamed, in the belief that neither bullets nor
sharp steel could hurt them— broke through the
city gates— routed all the train-bands they met
— put the kin^B life-guBrds to the run; "and all
this in the day-time, when all the city was in
arms, and they not in all above thirty-one !* '
At last they were hemmed in, but they cut their
way into a house, which they defended for aome
time ngsinat thousands. They all refused qnar-
t«r, bat about sixteen were taken by force and
kept alive for a worse death : the rest fell with
arms in their bands, "shouting that Christ was
coming presently to reign on earth." Among
the pi-isoners, who were all tried and executed,
was the mod wine-cooper himself.

lu dissolving the army, care had been taken
to keep on foot Monk's re^pment and a regiment
of cavalry; and now, under colour of necessity
and of apprehension of the great insuri'ection,
announced by Clarendon, some new troops were
raised, and many more officers of the old army
put nnder arrest. The Earl of Soutiiampton,
who is generally considered as the most virtuous
of Charles's minister*, took alarm at a scheme
which was then seriously entertained of raising
such a standing army as should put down all op-
position to the royal will; and he wiuted upon
the chancellor to expostulate. He said they had
felt the effects of a military government, though
the men were sober and religious, in Oromwell's
time; that he believed vicious and dissolute troops
would be much wone; that the king would grow
fond of them : that they would become insolent
and ungovernable, and that then ministers must
be converted into mere tools; he said that he
would not look on, and see the ruin of his coun-
try began, and be silent; a white staff should
not bribe him. Clarendon admitted that he was
in the right, and promised to divert the king
from any other force than what might be proper
to make a show with and cnpable of dispeniog
onmly multitudes. Southampton said that if
the standing army went no farther than that, be
could bear it; but that it would not be easy to
fix such A number as would please the princes
and not give jealousy to the people. Clarendon,
however, went to the king, and his representa-
tions (but no doubt still more the poverty of the
oourt) set aside the grand project for the pre-

sent.' The guards sad the new troops that wera
raised were m«d« up of men recoounended by
Monk.

" Every one," says a Irittet writer, " was now
everywhere putting in for the merit of restora-
tion, for no other reason, certainly, but that
they might have the reward." The Froteetaots
in Irelajid, whether high-church or Presbyte-
rian, Itud claim to Charles's gratitude for having
been the first of all hie subjects to invite him
back, which they had doiie in a convention, al-
most immediately after the expulsion of Henry
Cromwell. But, on the other side, the Irish Pa-
pists claimed a reward for their old loyalty and
long sufferings under "the late usurpers ;" and
they hombiy prayed for relief as to their for-
feited eatatee, their religion, and liberties.

In Scotland, the Presbyterians, who composed
nearly the entire nBti<Hi, flattered themselves that
they had peculiar claims upon the restored king' s
gratitude. They had repeatedly taken up arms
for monarchy; and, though they had been reduced
to a quiescent state by the vigour of Cromwell,
they bad begun to move again as soon as death
had relieved them from the domination of that
wonderful man. And was it not from Scotland
that Monk, the reetoror, had proceeded to exe-
cute the great plani The king, too, had been
among them; had taken their Covenant; had
solemnly sworn to defend their kirk; and he had
granted an "act of approbation'' to indemnify
all of them for earlier occurrences. But Charies,
who had no scruples of consdeoce whatever, held
that these oaths and engagements had been made
under compulsion; that the Covenanters, while
be was among them, had treated him with harsh-
ness and indignity; and, if he had any one strong
feeling about religious or sects, it was hatred of
the strict and formal Kirk of Scotland.* The
Marquis of Argyle, tlie great chief of the Cove-
oanters, was not without his mi^vings, and, on
the return of Charles to England, he retired for
a time to tlie Highlands; but his eon, the Lord
Lorn, who claimed the merit of a constant op-
position to the Commonwealth men and Crom-
well, hastened to congratulate the sovereign; and
the marquis himself wrote to the king, to ask
leave to come and wait upon him. To seize this
victim among his mountains, and the clans de-
voted to him, would have been a work of diffi-

m, takhic oocuten Ann tbii Uta plot to nba Iten
pvDpU, cUd pnjaoft tlrt niBinf of an kioj forlhwUh, btM
mt mllltli, tfalDklDf to Duk* lbs Duke of Tort (i
<f Bnt th* hooH dM, Id tkj opn l*m^ hj Ottj
I too wbg to ba liuM l^la lata lultHT aniiT ; an

armf li DOt baboMen t

•Oldmlicm, ffiUsFT

* ABOoMntf tc
PitabyidUn wu > nU|li)ti quK* tu

»Google

662

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil, AHD MlUTABT.

calty, Hud therefore Charles replied in a seeming
friendly manner. Upon that Argyle posted up
to Whitehall, where, being denied admittance,
he waa seized and sent to the Tower aa a tr^tor
and re^cide, it being asserted that he had en-
couraged the Commonwealth men to put the late
king to deatii. The Earl of Glencaim, a leader
of the Scottiah Cavalier party, was sent to Edin-
burgh to restore the Committee of Estates aa it
eiiated in 1G50, when Charles was in the country,
which Oliver Cromwell had not aa yet reduced
to a dependency of the English Commonwealth.
General Middleton, who had been so very un-
Buccesaful in hia attempts at shaking off Crom-
welt'B yoke, was elevated to the Scottish peer-
age, and appointed general of the forces and
king's commissioner for holding the poriiament;
Qlencaim was made chancellor, and the Earl of
Lauderdale (afterwards the ill-famed and bloody
Duke Lauderdale) secretary of state. The chief
power was divided for a time between Middleton
and liuderdale, who were fiercely jealous of each
other. These two selfish, unprincipled, and vio-
lent men, sometimes with the consent of the Scot-
tish parliament, and more frequently in spite of
that disjointed and always llt-constructed legisla-
ture, soon erected one of the worst tyrannies that
ever tniracd a country. The Mai-quis of Argyle,
after being basely trepanned at Whitehal], was
sent down to Edinburgh, to be tried by the men
that were thirsting for hia blood and hungering
for his estates. The old marquis, who was assisted
by the notoriety of the facts, made an admirable
defence. The state trials were just so much
worse in Scotland than in England, aa the Scot-
tish civilization fell short of the English. Flet-
cher, the lord-advocate, called tlie noble priaoner
at the bar an impudent villain ! Argyle gravely
enid, that he had learned in his affliction to bear
reproaches. While the tnni was in progress be- '
fore the Scottish parliament, his son, the Lord i
Lorn, obtained a letter from the king, ordering I
that the lord-advocate should not insist upon any
offences committed by the manjnis previously to
the year 1691, when the present king had given
hisindemnity;and that when the trial was ended,
the whole process should be submitted to his ma-
jesty before tlie parliament gave aentence. But
the king's commissioner, Middlet«n, who expected
to be enriched by Argyle's forfeiture, induced the
king to revoke one part of hia letter, and took it
upon himself to disregard the other. Middle-
ton also madeasearch for precedents of men who
had been condemned in Scotland upon presump-
tive evidence, and argued the matter in person,
hoping that the weight of his authority would
bear down all opposition. But Gilmore, though
recently promoted to be president of the Court of
Session, had the honesty to say that to attaint

Argyle upon such evidence would be more unjost
than the much-decried attainder of the Bu'l of
Strafford; and, after a fierce debate, in which
Middleton stormed, and swore, and blasphemed
— as was his wont — Gilmore carried a majority,
and the prisoner was acquitted on that conuL
Ai^le now thought that h« was safe; bnt Mid-
dleton resolved to make bis compliance with
Cromwell high treaaon. Even here the lord-
commissioner would have been defeated, had it
not been for the villainous offices of hia friend
Monk, Duke of Albemarle. Monk, the restorer
—a servant worthy of the prince he had restored
— searched among his papers, and found some
private letters which Argyle lutd written to him
when he (Monk) was the sworn friend of Crom-
well, and the general of the Commonwealth, and
in which the marquis expressed bis zeal for the
maintenance of thatsystem of government. Thcae
}>rivate letters Monk sent down to Scotland by
an express, and Middleton ordered them to be
read in parliament at a atage when the produc-
tion of further evidence was strictly illegal. The
effect was instantaneons and fatal; all the friends
of the marquis ran out of the parliament house
as if a bomb had f aJlen among them ; the rest
agreed that these letten sufficiently proved that
the prisoner's compliance with the usurper was
not feigned and compulsory, but sincere and volun-
tary; and they condemned him as guilty of trea-
son. Argyle be^ed for ten days' respite, in onl«r
that the king'a pleaaure mi^t be known; txit
when this was refused be understood tlie inten-
tion of the court, and exclaimed, "I placed the
crown npon his head, and this is my rewarrl."
[When Charles was crowned at Scone, in 1651,
Argyle really placed the crown upon his head,
and at that time it was very generally believed
that he would soon be the king's father-in-law.]
He was beheaded at the market-cross of Edin-
burgh, only two daya after receiving sentence,
and his head was set up Over the jail where the
Covenanters had exposed the head of Montroae.
Other trials ensued, in which still less attention
was paid to the forms of law. Twelve emiaeut
Presbyterian preachers, who came to Exlinbur;^
with a petition, were seized and cast into prison:
Outhrie,oneof them, who, ten years ago, "had let
fly at the king in hia sermons," was hanged, for ex-
ample's sake, a few days after the execution of Ar-
gyle, With him was hung one Gowan, who had
deserted to Cromwell while the king was in Scot-
land. "The man," saya Biahop Buruet, "was
inconsiderable, till they made him more consi-
dered by putting him to death on such an account,
at so great a distanoe of time," "Die fourth vic-
tim was Biahop Burnet's own uncle, Johnstona of
Warriston, one of the greatest and most eloquent
asaertora of the Covenant. This aged mou flvd

»Google

A.O. 16«)-J661.1

CHARLES JI.

to ths Continent; but some time after, thaiVench
goTemment gave him up b> Chariea, and he was
sent hack to Scotland, and tried and hanged. It
had been aseumed aa a prinoiple that the de-
atrojen of Moatrose, the idol of the Cavalier
party, should feel the full weight of retaliation;
and yet Macleod of Anynt, the falae friend who
had BO inhmoiulj betrayed Montrose to his ene-
mies, " was let go without any cenaare." Burnet
attributes this impunity to liabita of debauchery
iu Macleod, which were largely sympathized with
by the now domiaaat faction; but possibly Mac-
leod'a putseand estates toldanotherstory. Ven-
geance was often defeated by the love of lucre,
or by personal jealousies among the new great
men. Swiuton, who had been attainted, and
who had been the man of all Scotland most
trusted and employed by Cromwell, was admitted
to mercy, beea»u« Middleton, in hatred to Iau-
derdale, who had got the gift of hie estate, re-
commended him to the king. Many others suf-
fered in liberty and eetate; but aa open bribery
was a rule of government, and as money bought
pardons, no more executions took place for the
present. Middleton and Lauderdale continued
to quarrel with one another, to accuse one an-
other in an nnderhaud way, and to plot against
one another. At one time Middleton wanted to
impeach his rival, but Clarendon told him that
impeachments were dangerous things— that *' the
assaulting of a minister, as long aa he had an in-
tend in cAa king, waa a practice that never could
be approved; it was one of the uiuaiif thingt that
a Hotue of Common* of Eagland tomtlima vm-
tHTtd OH, Khtch Kot ungrateful to ^€ court.' Thus
the matter dropped; and the two rivals, recon-
ciled in appearance, went on in amicable unison
to ride roughshod over the kirk and the laws and
liberties of Scotland. " This,* saya Burnet, who
waa living in the midst of it, " was a road roaring
time, full of eatravagance; and no wonder it was
BO, when the men of aflairs were almoet perpetually
dmnk." In spite of the alarming warning held
out by the past, it was resolved to set up Episco-
pacy; and Sharp, a minister who was to the Kirk
of Scotland what Monk had been to the Com-
monwealth, prewed Middleton to take advantage
of the present general consternation, and establish
biahopa. At the aame time he duped his brethren
with pTDfeasions of an ardent zeal for the kirk,
and persuaded them to send him up to court aa
their delegate. Sharp soon returned from Lon-
don Archbishop of St. Andrews! Other men
" were sought oat to be bishopa," and these men,
after receiving conBecration from the Archbishop
of Canterbury, hurried down to Scotland, " all in
oaecoach," to take possesion of tiieir sees. Forth-
with bishopa again appeared among the lords of
pariiament The power in the church of this

restored hierarchy was made very absolute by
royal proclamation; and presently all men were
required to take the oath of allegiance and su-
premacy, acknowledging the right of the king to
settle religion and the church. Id the midst of
general subaervience in parliament, two noble
ntamen, the Earl of Cassilis, and Dr. Eobert
Leighton, Bishop of Dunblane, had the courage
sist. Leighton said that the land mourned
already by reason of the many compulsory oaths
that had been taken. Archbishop Sharp, who
id so recently worn the Genevan gown himself,
ifriied with great bitterness and insolence, flying
out against the Presbyterian atiffhess. The en-
lightened Leighton said that it ill became the
■verf aame persons who had complained of the
rigour of the Covenanters to practise a like rigour
themselves, " for thus it would be said that the
worid goea road by turns." Middleton, who
wanted the oath ns a trap for scmpulons con-
sciences, was furious at this opposition; but in
the end the odious act was passed, and made as
trenchant aa Archbishop Sharp and the king's
commissioner desired. Not satisfied with this,
they brought forward another oath, abjuring for-
mally both the League and Covenant, and the
National Covenant; and between theae two oaths
they drove the Presbyterians from all offices in
the church, the state, or magistracy, and not a
few of them into perpetual banishment.*
AD 1661 The new En(^ish parliament met
' on the 6th of May. The elections
had gone greatly iu hvour of the royalist and
high-ehurch party, and not more than fifty or
sixty of the Presbyterian party found their way
into the House of Commons. This parliament —
tor the disgrace of the country— lasted much
longer than that which is distinguished in his-
tory by the name of the Long Parliament; but a
distinctiveepithetwnauot wanting— it was called
the " Pension Parliament." The House of Com-
mons began with voting that all their memliers
should receive the sacrament by a certain day,
according to the rights of the Church of England,
under pain of exclusion. Then, in concert with
the lords, the commons condemned " that great
instrument of mischief, the Solemn League and
Covenant,' to be burned by the common hang-
man. The acti establishing the Commonwealth,
and the chief ordinances of the Long Pai-lia-
ment, were ti-eated in the same manner. They
then passed a number of bills, which all had for
their object the strengthening of the monarchical
power. Theyimposed afreshoBth,importingthat
neither house could lavirfully take up arms against
the king, in any case whatsoever. They restored
the bishops to their seats in the House of Peers;

I Bumtt, On* Tima: CUnndon, Hfii StaU Trialtj Mitnl'

,v Google

66 i

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil axd Miutakt.

they increued Ihe rigour of the law of treason;
they declared it to be a high misdemeBiiour to
call the king a. Papist ; and they materially cur-
tailed one of tlie most important of the popular
righta — the right of petitioning the king or par-
liament, by enacting that no petition should have
more than twenty eignatures, unless by permis-
sion of three justices of the peace, or the majoi^
ity of a grand jury. The Cavaliers would also
^adly hare struck at the bill of indemnity, in
order to wrench from the adherents of the Com-
monwealth all the property they had acqnired;
but Clarendon felt that any such invasion of that
act would be too dangerous, and the Cavaliers
ware obliged to content themselves with a vote
of ,£60,000 to be distributed among themselves,
and to confirm the sud indemnity act

When thia parliament re-assembled at the end
of November, there was no visible diminution of
its loyalty or orthodoxy; and Clarendon excited
its zeal by disclosing a pretended cooapiracy,
which was said ta extend all over the country.
The king confirmed the awful diacloBures made
by the chancellor; but perhaps at that moment
the indolent Cbaries may have been made to be-
lieve that the airy conspiracy really existed.
The commons, in a paroxysm of rage and terror,
CftUed for more blood— for the execution of such
of the condemned regicides as bad hitherto been
spared — and especially demanded the trial of Sir
Harry Yane and Qeneral lAmbert, who bad both
boeo excepted from the act of obliviou, bnt re-
commended by the Convention Parliament to the
king, who had promised to spare their lives. But
Charles, who never respected a promise, lent a
ready ear to the recommendation of the Pension
Parliament, and it was arranged that Vane and
lAmbert should suffer during the next recess.
In the meantime, to stay the appetite of ven~
geapce, three distinguishal Commonwealth men,
the Lord Uonson, Sir Henry Uildmay, and Sir
Bobert Wallop, were drawn npon sledgeB, with
ropes round their necks, from the Tower to the
gallows at Tybura, and then back to the Tower,
there to remain prisoners for life. In this ses-
non a conformity bill, recommended, if not ac-
tually drswQ up by Clarendon, was debated and
passed in all its intolerant rigour, the lords hav-
ing vainly attempted to soften some of its clauses.
It enacted that every parson, vicar, or other min-
ister, should publicly declare before his congre-
gation, his unfeigned atmetit and consent to every-
thing contained and prcecribed in the Book of
Common Prayer; and that every preacher that
had not received ordination from the hands of a
bishop most submit to that process before the
next feast of St. Bartholomew. A feir new col-
lects, added by the bishops to the Prayer Book,
did BOt tend to make this act more palatable. In

one of these collects a new efuthet was added to
the title of the openly profane and immonl
Charles, he being atyled "our moat religioiu
king;* and the Dissenters " could not down with"
the story of Bel and the Dragon, introduced
from the Apocrypha; nor with the new holidays,
such as St. Bamahas, the Convereion of St. Fuil,
and the 30th of January, now dedicated to King
Charles the Martyr. When the eotnmous bad
done with this conformity bill, they voted the
king a subsidy of £1,200,000, and a heaitb or
chimney tax for ever:' and the parliament was
prorogued on the ISth of May with a. flattering
speech from Charles, who promised to take bet-
ter care both of his money and his morals.

It was high time, for he was on the eve of
marriage. Nearly all the courts of Europe had
etruggled for the honour of giving a wife to this
dissolute prince, for whatever contempt Chsrlei
had excited on the Continent as an exiled, ernut
king^j'ure, he became one of the most important
of crowned beads as de facto King of England.
Charles held himself at auction, aud Portugal
became the bigbest bidder, offering with the
Princess Catherine, Tangiere, Bombay, the ad-
vantages of a free trade, and half a million iter-
ling; and it was resolved that the offer should
be accepted, notwithstanding the religion of the
princess, and the opposition of Spain, which still
claimed the Portuguese kingdom, and treated the
house of Bt«ganza as rebels and usurpers. The
orthodox Clarendon decided Charles in this reso-
lution, in spite of the representations of manyof
his own party, who rationally feared that the
king, already suspected of Popery, would he stiil
more mistrusted when he should have a Catholic
wife and a mass-chapel in his own house. After
some necessary delays that were irksome to the
king, not because he longed for the royal bride,
but because he was greatly in need of the dower,
the treaty was concluded, and Lord Sandwidi
was despatched with a small fleet to take posses-
sion of Tangiers and bring home the bride and
the money. Catherine of BraguiEa arrived at
Portsmouth on the 20th of May, and was there
met by her husband, who conducted her in state
to Hampton Court At this time ChaHec^ mis-
tress, en (itr«, ws« "one of the »ee of the Viiliers,*
married to Mr. Palmer, who, on her account,
and for his base connivance, was taken into the
diplomatic service aud raised to the Irish peer-
age as Eart of Castlemaine. People expected
that he would now break with the mistress, or
at least manage his intei-coiine with her as pH:
vately as possible. But he was not prepared to
make any, the least sacrifice, either to duty or
decency: he dined and sapped with I^dy Css-
tlemaine every day and night of the week that

lEvNTb

,v Google

A.O. 1660-1661]

CHARLES II.

preceded the qneen'i urint]; b« was there on
the iiight that bonfirea were lit ia the street for
th&t event;' he left her to go to hia bride; aod,
wheD Catherine was eatablUhed at Bampton
Court, he not only presented her himaelf, bat
alHo iuBiBt«d that she should be one of the queen's
ladiu of the bedchsmber. Clarendon, «ho wor-
ahipped the proprieties and outward appearances,
according to bis own account, spoke with gr«At
boldness to the king on the subject of this scan-
dalous appointment, telling him "of the hard-
heartedoess and cruelty in lajing such a com-
mand upon the queen which flesh and blood
oould not comply with. The king,* says he,
"heard htm with patience enough, jet with those
little interruptions which were natural to him,
especially to that part where he had levelled the
uistressea of kiuga and princes with other lewd
women, at which he expreeaed some indignation,
being an argument often debated before him by
those who would have them looked upon above
any other men's wives." But, according to the
historian's own account, the moral conversation
ended by the king's " requiring him to use all
those arguments to the queen which were neces-
sary to induce ker to a fvQ eomplianct with ahat
the king daired.' And the Lord High-chancellor
of England— the model Clarendon— who is still
atyled,6;«t>nte, one of the most illustrious of Eng-
lishmen, one that through lUl circumstances main-
tained the innate dignity of his character — the
upright minister, the true patriot, and the honest
man^uudertook the office, and waited several
times on the forlorn young queen to prove to
her the suitableness of submission and resigna-
tion "to whatsoever his majesty should desire of
her," and to innnuate (his own words!) " what
would be acceptable with reference to the lady.'
Catherine, who had told this hoary-headed me-
diator for royal profligacy that she had to strug-
gle with more difficulties than ever woman of
her condition had known — that at times she was
forced " to give vent to thnt passion that was
ready to break her heart" — now assured him
"that the kin^^s insisting upon that particular
could proceed from no other ground bnt his
hatred of her person, and to expose her to the
contempt of the world, who woiUd think her
worthy of such an affront if she submitted to it,
which before she would do, she would put herself
on board any tittie vessel, and so be transported
to lisbon.* The chancellor upon this reminded
her " that she had not the disposal of her own
person, nor could go out of the house where she
was without the king's leave ;' and, therefore,
advised bar " not to speak any more of Portugal,
where there wet« enough who would wish her to
he." The chancellor then msda hsste to inform

Vol. it.

> PopTSi Diary,

his employer of all that had passed, and to re-
quest, not that he would give up his design of
fixing his mistress constantly in court as ths
servant of hia wife, but that he would forbear
premiug the queen in that matter for a day or
two, till he had once more wtuted upon her.
But, according to Iiis narrative, the king listened
to other counsellors, and resolved to make his
wife submit at once. "The fire flamed that night
higher than ever: the king reproached thequeen
with stubbornness and want of duty, and she
him with tyranny and want of affection; he used
threats and menaces which he never intended to
put in execution, and she talked loudly how ill
she waa treated, and that she would return again
to Portugal. He replied, that sheshonld do well
first to know whether her mother would receive
her; and he would give her a fit opportunity to
know that, by sending to their home all her
Portuguese servants; and that he would forthwith
give order for the discharge of them all.* What
the threats and menaces were which Charles
never intended to put in execution we know not,
but he forthwith executed his cruel threat of
depriving his wifeof her servants — lier country-
men and countrywomen, the friends of her child-
hood. After an interview with the chAncellor,
who bad been again with the queen, using argu-
ments and cajolery to overcome her natnnd re-
pugnance, " he persevered in all bis resolutions
withont any remorse — directed a day for all the
Portugueses to be embarked without assigning
any considerable thing of bounty to any of them,
or vouchsafing to write any letter to the King or
Queen of Portugal of the cause of ths dismission
of them. And this rigour prevailed upon the
great heart of the queen, who had not received
any money to enable her to be liberal to any of
those who had attended her out of their own
country, and promised themselves places of great
advantage in her family; and she earnestly de-
sired the king that she might retain some few of
those who were known to her, and of most use,
thatshemight not bewhoUy left in the hands of
strangers; and employed others to makethasams
suit to the king on her behalf. Whereupon the
Countess of Fenalva, who had been bred with
her from a child, and who, by the infirmity of lier
eyes and other indisposition of health, scarce
stirred ont of her chamber, was permitted to
remain in the court ; and some few inferior ser-
vants in her kitchen and in the lowest offices,
besides those who were necessary to her devo-
tions, were left here. All the rest were trans-
ported to Portugal.' Nor did Catherine's trials
end here. " In all this time,' contiuues Claren-
don, "the kiug pursnad hia point: the lady ome
to the court — was lodged there— was every day
in the queen's presence — and the king in oon-

180

,v Google

666

HISTORY OF ENGLAKD.

[Civn. j»D MiuuBT.

tinuai conrerence with her, whilst the queen nt '
antaken notice of; o&d if her majesty row ftt the
indignit; and retired into her chamber, it bmj I
be one or two attcndeil her; but all the compuiT |
remuned in the room ihe left, uid too oft«n said
those thiof^ aloud which nobody ought to bare

whiapered All these mortifications were

too heavy to be borne ; bo that at laat, when it
was least expected or snapected, the queen on a
sudden let hnvelf &11 first to converBation and
theu to familiarity, and, even in the Mune instant,
to a confidence with the lady ; was merry with
her iu pablie, talked kindly of her, and, in pri-
vate, used nobody more friendly."

On the 2d of Jane, a few days after the kin^s
marriage, the i«pnhliaui Sir Harry Vaoe was
arraigned before the Court of King's Bench.

FroB ■ idBt b; Hniite^n, (Aw Sb- P. LbI; .

Upon the Restoration, Taoe, knowing that he had
taken no share in the trial or death of Charles I.,
and that the new king, in his declaration from
Bred^had promised a wide indemnity, continned
at his house in Hamp«t«ad, near London.* He
was allowed to remain nudistorfoed for about
five weeks, when he was arrested and sent to the
Tower, whence he had been carried from one
prison to another for the ^«ce of two years.
He had now been brought up from a lone castle
or block-house on one of the SciUy Islands. The
indictment charged hira with compassing and
imagining the death of Charles II., and conspiring
to subvert the ancient frame of the kingly gov-
ernment of the realm. Vane objected that the
offence* charged against him wer« committed
either in hia capacity an a member of parliament,

■errant ef goremment acting under the
of parliament; and he munlaiued
that he coald be tried only by parliament, snd
not by any inferior tribonaL Hia judges, who
were met to condemn, not to try him, overruled
these objections, and bade him plead guilty or
not gnilty. Vane represented that be could not
expect jnstice from judges who, in another jAkx,
bad prejailged him and recorded their votes
against him; that the length of time taken to
search ont matten against him, and the undue
ptactices and C01IIW8 to find out witneaees agunit
him, were further proems that he coald not have
an equal and impartial trial ; that, during stl
that time, be had been kept in cloee im|wiaoa-
ment withoat being once examined, or having
any qoestion pat to him whereby he might con-
jecture what would be diarged against him ; thst
he bad been treated as a great delinquent — hii
rents stopped, his tenants forbidden to pay them,
his very courts [»vhibited by officers of great
personages chumingthe grant of his estates; tbat,
by these nndne proceedings, he had not where-
withal to itnintjiiii himself in prison, and hia
debts, to the amount of above ^£10,000, were nn-
discharged, either priucipal or interest; and that
the hopes of private Incre and profit were such
in his tenants and other persons, songht out for
far and near to be witnesses agaiust him, that it
would be no wonder if, at last, some charges
should be exhibited; but these charges were to
general and vague, that nothing certain, or tbat
applied peculiarly to himself, conld be gathered
out of them. After expressing his faith and re-
liance on God, who now called him to mfer, v
he had formerly called him to art, for the good
of his country — after expressing his consciousnesi
tiiat for himself the issae wonid be good, what-
ever this court might make it — he continned:
" Far be it from me to have knowingly, maii-
ciousiy, or wittingly offended the law, rightly
understood and asserted ; much less, to have done
anything that is malitm per m, or that is moially
evil This is what I allow not, as I am a man,
and what I desire with BteadfsstnesB to resist, »■
I am a ChriBlian. If I can judge anything of
my own ease, the true reason of the present dif-
ficulties and straits 1 am in is because I have
desired to walk by a just and righteous rule in
all my actions, and not to serve the lusts and
passions of men, but rather to die than wittingly
and deliberately sin against God and transgress
his holy laws, or prefer my own private interest
before the good of the whole community I relate
nnto, iu the kingdom wber« the lot of my resi-
dence is cast." The counsel for the proeecution
were reduced to silence; but the Cliief -jnstice
Foster muttered— "Though we know not what to
say to him, we know what t« do with him." Vane

»Google

.. 1660— leei.]

CHABLES n.

667

claimed the benefit of oonnael, which had be«n
denied to HaniMa and the other regicides, and
which it iraB not tuoal to grant in caiea of trea-
aon- The court, impatient to make him plead,
pfomtaed him that if he would put himaelf on the
iaaiie he diould have counsel. He then pleaded
not guilty, and was sent back to the Tower for
four days. When he re-appeared he olairoed the
promiae which had been given him ; on which
his judges, who had received fresh instructions
to condemn him, told him that Mey would be his
counsel. The attorney-general, Sir Geoffrey Pal-
mer, a fanatic royalist, produced his evidence.
Vane combated the charges with great learning
and eloquence. He maiDtained that the word
tinff in tiie statute of treasons meant only a king
regnant, a king in actual possession of the crown,
and not a king merely dt jun, who was not in
possession. He justified the conduct of the
Commonwealth by the Inevitable neeeaaityof the
case. " This matter* said he, " was not done in a
comer. The appeals were solemn, and the deci-
sion by the sword was given by God !

When new and neveivbeard-of changes do fall
out in the kingdom, it is not like that the known
and written laws of the land should be the eiact
rule, but the grounds and rules of justice, con-
tained and declared in the law of nature, are
and ought to be a sanctuary in such cases, evm
hy the very conunou law of England : for thence
originally spring the unerring rules that are set
by the Divine and eternal law for rule and sub*
jectiou in all states and kingdoms." In the
course of his defence he called atteution to the
facts that the resolutions and votes for changing
the government of England into aCommonwealth
were all passed before he waa retnmed to par-
liament; that he was bound to obey the powen
then regnant; that be had done nothing for any
private or gainful ends, to profit himaelf or en-
rich his relations, as well appeared by the great
debts he had contracted, and the destitute condi-
tion in which he should now leave hia family.
But the court was not to be moved* by aueh ap-
peals as these, and they determinad that the
evidence against the prisoner was good, and that
the acts Imputed to liim amounted to high trea-
son. Tane then offered a bill of exceptions, and
claimed the benefit of the promise which the king
had made to the Conveution Parliament — that,
if Yane should be attainted by law, he would
not sutler the sentence to be executed. The
solicitor-general openly declared that " the pri-
amer must be made a public sacrifice;* and, al-
luding to Vane'i urgent and repeated demands
for the benefit of counsel, he brutally exclaimed
— " What counsel does he think would dare speak
for him in such a manifest case of treason, un-
less he coold call down the heads of his fellow-

trait«rs, Bradshaw or Coke, from the top of
WestminBt«r HaU (' With these words thun-
dering in their ears, the juiy retired, and in half
an hour returned into court with a verdict of
guilty.'

On the morrow, Charles thos wrote from
Hampton Court to Clarendon: — "The relation
that hath been made to me of Sir H. Tane^
carriage yesterday in the hall ia the occasion of
this letter; which, if I am rightly informed, was
so insolent as to juatify all he had done, acknow-
ledging no supreme power in England but a
parliament, and many things to that purpose.
Yon have had a true account of all ; and, if be
has given new occanon to be hanged, etrtaitdg
htitloo dangermu a man to let liw, if xt eon
honeiCli/ put him out of the vay. Think of this,
and {pve me some account of it to-morrow; till
when, I have no more to aay to you.' What
Clarendon's account was, we may easily divine,'
for, on that day week (June 14), a scwEfold waa
prepared On Tower-hill, on the very spot where
the Earl of Strafford had suffered so many years
before. At an early hour Yane took leave of his
wife and children, and of a few generous friends
that were not afraid of incnrring the hatred
of government by showing a deep sympathy.
He entreated them not to mourn for him. Hia
religious enthusiasm blended itself, aa it had
ever done, with his republicanism and passionate
love of liberty. "I know," said he, " that a day
of deliverance for Sion will come. Some may
think the manner of it may be as before, widi
confused noise of the warrior, and garments
rolled in blood; but I rather think it will be with
burning and fuel of fire. ... I die in the certain
faith and foresight that this cause shall have its
resurrection in my death. My blood will bs
the seed sown, by which this glorious cause will
spring up, which God will speedily nuse. ....
As a testimony and seal to the juatnees of that
quarrel, I leave now my life upon it, as a legacy
to all the honest interest in these three nations.
Ten thousand deaths rather than defile my con-
science, the chastity and purity of which I value
beyond all this world!" He was dragged on a
sledge from the Tower to the scaffold, looking so
cheerful that it was dif&cult to convince many
of the spectators that he waa the prisoner about
to die. The government had been alarmed by
the iropresaion made by the dying words of Har-
rison, Scott, and Peten ; and so they had reaolved
to interrupt, at all critical passages, the more
dangerous eloquence of Yane. When he at-

»Google

668

HISTORY or ENGLAND.

[Civil aks Miutabt.

tempted to dewribe the condnct of his judges,
Sir Joha Robioson, the lieutenant of the Tower,
intemipted him, Bajing, in a. furious maniier,
" It is a lie ; I am here to testify that it is a lie.
Sir, 7011 most not rail at the judges." Yane
replied, "God will judge between jouand ni« iu
this matter. I speak but matter of fact, and
cannot you bear thatl It ia erident the judges
refused to sign my bill of ozceptious." . . . Here
tbe drummera and trumpeters were ordered to
come doae under the sc&flbid, and the trumpe-
ters blew in his face to prevent hb bring heuii.
Sir Hairy lifted up his hand, laid it on his breast,
and, after a mild remonstrance, silence being
restored, he proceeded to detail to faia fellow-
oonntrymeu and fellow-Christians some circnm-
etancea of hie life and of the lat« Civil wars. Upon
this, the tmmpetors again sounded, the sheriff
enatched at the paper he held in hia hand,' and
the lieutenant of the Tower furiously called out
for the booke of some that were taking notes of
Yane's solemn and last diaoonrae. " He treats
«>f rebellion," said the lieutenant, "and yon write
it' And thereupon six noto books were deli-
vered up. Yane said, meekly, that it was hard
that be might not be permittod to apeak, but
that this was what all upright men might now
eipect from tbe worldly spirit Here freah blasts
were blown upon the tmmpete, and fresh eSorta
made by the lieutenant of the Tower and two or
three others to snatoh the paper out of his hand,
" and they put their hands into his pockets for
papers, as was pretended, which bred great con-
fusion and dissatisfacUon to the spectators, see-
ing A prisoner so strangely handled in his dying
words' At last Yane gave up all hope of being
allowed to explain himself to the people, and,
turning away from the front of the scaffold, he
knelt in prayer for a few minutes by the side of
the block, dien laid his head upon that sharp
T>illow, and stretehed out his arm as a aignal to
the execntioner, who struck a good blow, which
severed his neck at once. His magnanimity on
tbe scaffold made a wonderful and lasting im-
presmon, which became the deeper when men '
saw more and more of the ways of the restored
government and of tbe universal corruption, im-

> Bvmtl frpf.

morality, irreligion, and indecency, that obtained
among public men. General lAmbert was tried
and condemned at the same time; but by his
timid proceedings after the denth of the protec-
tor, he had given very evident proofs that he was
not a dangerous man ; he pleaded guilty, threw
himself abjectly upon the royal mercy, and waa
suffered to wear out the remainder of his days in
an unhonoured prison in the island of Quemaey.
Other blood, however, was shed. Colonels Okey,
Corbet, and Barkatead, who had baoi concerned
in the execution of the lato king, had fled to
Holland, bnt they were hunted out by Downing,
who had once been ohaphun in Okey's r^ment;
the States gave them np, and they were brought
to the gibbet and the knife. They died ^orying
in the good old enoae, and Downing was held up
to detestation.* General Ludlow, Mr. Lisle, and
a few other Commonwealth men, who eitber had
taken a part in tbe trial of Charlea L, or had
otherwise incurred the hatred of the royalista,
had found an asylum among the republicans of
Switzerland^ — a sacred asylum, which was not
suffered to be invaded either by tbe threats or
promises that were repeatedly held out through
a series of yean by the government and family
of Charles II. Not being able to obtain their
expulsion or their enrretider by tbe Swiss, tbe
n^aliate had recourse to assassinatiou in a pri-
vate way. Lisle was shot in the back in the
month (rf August, 1S64, on the Lord'a-day, as be
was going into a church at Lausanne. He fell
dead on the spot in the churchyard, and close to
the ohurcb-porcb; and his murderer mounted a
swift horse that was held for him at hand by
another villain, and the two, shouting " God save
the king," galloped off and crossed the Swiss
frontier into France. Other less suocessful at-
tempts were made in the same manner upon the
life of Ludlow, who distinctly charges King
Charlea, his mother the queen-dowager, and hia
sister the Duchess of Orleans, with employing

Hn^oa, bat, beinf md^ to do mnj kind of wofk, ho ma oqa-
tioBodlnhlointbTCbHlii. H* ouplsrid ■ psifldloiia uUka
to fflt pc^watton of hit Tktltiu. who had onu boon hia fHond*
and putroru. Erda Fopfi b Indlgnuit tX thii "poriKdioiB

»Google

A.0 1661- 1C75.]

CHAPTER II.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— A.D. 1661-1675.

CHAI

i U.

et of aDifomutj anfomd npoa Um FrabTteTuua — Section of thsir miiuBtan on tha Mmivanuy of St. Bu-
tbolomsir— Daoikntioii of indslganca in bahklf of Papiiti— Sale of Dunkirk— Opparition of Clurles to the
trionDul kct— Tha oanvBotiola kct pussd— Ita oppnoioiu— It ii turned in Scotland (.gaiuat tha tifttioiul
cboroh— Scottiih peraacntiom by Ij»udord»lB Mid Shwp— War with Holliind~K»T»l •ngagoments with ths
Dntsh— Farther opprtoirg mU of the high-ehuroh putj— Frgah mvml encoanten with the Dutch— The Si«
of London — Opporition to the court oonimoDiiad— iDnirreiitian of the Corenuiten in ScotSuid — Their defeit
M the Feutlaod HUi>— The Dutch blook up the Uedwa; and the Thunee— Paeoe coDolnded with Holleod—
Plot kgainit the Eul of Clarendoo — Ha ii depriied of the duncelLonfaip—Hi* irapeaohment in puliunent —
Ha ■ecretlj withdiawi to Fnuioe—Tliecouucil called the Cabil formed— Its proneadingi — Senret end treuh-
erona trektiee of Cbarlei with Louis XIV.— Chvlee obliged to ralinquish hli ichaiDa of toleration- Hii
mutrenee— His d«ign to change the natioual religion and goveriunent— Hia combination for that pnipoaa
withLouiaXlV.— Infamooa treatment of Sir John Corentrr-The bill called the "Corentrr Act"— Aocouut of
Colonel Blood— Hii attempt to bang the Duke of Onnond—HiibehaTfourbeloia tha king— Charlee and Lonia
XIV, go to war witii HoUand — Nefarioiu attempt to captars the Dntoh Smrma Heat — Ita tallore — IndeoiaiTC
naval battle with the Dutch at Solebar— The Dutch aaailed bf the Freneh by land— William, Frinoa of
Orange — Hii character and abilitiea— Ha obtaina tha ohiaf command in HoUand^Hii able reaiataaoa to ths
French iavaaion- Meetii^of parliameot — Uniucoeaatul attempla of the court to win over the NonconformietB
—Bill to auppreaa Popery called the "T»t Act" puaed— Parliament prorogued—The Cabal anoceeded by the
Dauby administration — Peace between England and Holland— Court and cabinet intriguat — Debates In par-
liament upon tha bill to prerent tha danger which may arise from penoaa diaaffeoted to the gOTaTomant —
Trouble! in Sootland — Attempt to aaaaaduate ATchbUhop Sharp — Slavish oondoot of the Bcottiah parliament.

lord-general (Monk), the Doke of Ormond, the
chief-iu8tice,theiittorney-geueraI, and the aecrft-
taries of state. "The biahope,* ukys Clareadon,
"were very much troubled that th<Me ftUowt
should still preoume to (pve hia majesty bo mnch
vexation, and that they should have such access
to him. They gave snch argiimeuta against the
doing what was desired as could not be answered ;
and, for themselves, they desired to be excused
for not conniving in any degree at the breach
of the act of parliament, and that his majesty's
givingsnch a declaration or recommendation (/or
the three month/ resile) would be the greatest
wound to the church, and to the government
thereof, that it could receive." Aa a matter of
coarse, the crown lawyers sided with the bishops;
and so, "upon the whole matter, the king was
converted; and, with great bitterness against that
people in general, and against the particular per-
sons, whom he had always received too graciously,
concluded that he would not do what wsa desired,
and that the connivance should not be given to
any of them. The bishops departed full of satiS'
faction with the king's resolution.*' Accordingly,
upon the day prescribed, which the anffBring FreS'
bjterians compared to the great St. Bartholomew
Maasacre of the French, the act of unifonnity was
enforced in all ita rigour. Some oomplied with
the l«nnB for the sake of their families ; but up-
wards of SOOO miaiaters refused, and were thntst

) the nnniveraary of St, Bartho-
lomew approached, the Preshyte-
ministere, threatened with
deprivation, reminded the king of
all they and their party had done
for his restoration, and then im-
plored his majesty to suspend the execution of
the act of uniformity for three months longer,
by his letters to the bishops, by proclamation,
by an act of cmmcil, or in any other way his
majesty should think fit. Charles made them a
poutive promise that he would do what they
desired; and this promise was solemnly given to
them in the presence of Monk, who was still
considered as leaning towards the Presbyterians
through his wife. But Clarendon stepped in and
urged the absolute necessity of enforcing obedi-
ence to the act of uniformity without delay or
connivance ; and ho told the king that it would
not be in his power to preserve from deprivation
thoae ministers that would not submit to it.
This is Clarendon's account, almost in his own
words. He tells na, indeed, that he was very
tender of the king's honour, and told his majea^
that, having engaged his word, he ooght to per-
form what he had promised. But Clarendon
knew that Charles never regarded his word, and
he had given him a strong inducement to break
it. Some of the bishops were then summoned
to Hampton Court, and the question was debated
in the presence of the king, the chancellor, the

'lift.

,v Google

670

HISTOET OF ENGLAND.

[Crr

. AHD MlUTABT.

oat of their livioga. The ZiODg FarliameDt had
assigned a fifth of the revenues of the church for
the support of the Episcopalian clergy whom thej
dispoMLtsed; but now the Episcopalians allowed
nodiingof the sort "ThiH/'eayg Burnet, "raised

a grievous outcry over the nation Borne

few, and bat few, of the Episcopal partj, were
troubled at this severity, or apprehensive of the
rerj ill effects it was like to have. Here were
very niaoj men, much valued, some on better
grounds, and otbets on worae, who were now cast
ont ignominiously, reduced to great poverty, pro-
voked by mnch spiteful nsage,and cast upon those
popular practices that both their principles and
their circnmstancea seemed to justify." But it
was not merely the Presbyt«riBn ministers and
their flocks that miflered; all the Nonconformiata
(which now had become the general term, aa that
of Puritans had been formerly) were visited by a
sharp peraecutioa, their conveiitides being every-
where suppressed, and their preachen and many
of themHelvea cast into prison as men giiilty of
the doable sin of heresy and disloyalty, Hoping
notliing from the laws or the parliament of their
country, these men projected extensive emigra-
tions to Hollaud, to New England, to other planta-
tions beyond the Atlantic— to any spot where they
might be safe from the "prelates' rage." Upon
this, the Earl of Bristol, the rash and eooentric
Lord Bigby of the Civil wan, and as rash and ec-
centric now as ever, conceived a plan into which
the Leading Catholics entered very readily. This
plan was to procure, under cover of indulgence
to the Protestant NonconfonuiBts, whose depar-
ture from the country would be most mischievous
to liade and industry, a wide and liberal tolera-
tion, which should include all that did not con-
form—-and themselves, as Papists, with the rest
The project pleased the king, and did not dis-
please the minor sects ; but the Presbylerians
were averse to sharing in a toleration with the
Pi^Nsts; and the bishops and the high-church
party, who were for a strict conformity on the part
of alt sects whatsoever, had abated none of their

old dread or detestation of the Roman church.
Charles, however, influenced by his brother the
Dnke of York, by Bristol, by Seeretaiy Bennet,
ajid by other avowed or concealed Papists, put
forthadeclarationof indulgence.' Whatever wero
his motives, this was indisputably CharWs beat
act; but we shall presuitly see that the bigotry of
part of his subjects did not allow him to main-
tain it

Nearlyat the same time, the whole English na-
tion, without any distinction as to sects or parties,
was disgusted by the sale of Dunkirk — that place
which had been acquired by Oliver Cromwell,
and which had been held of such importanoe even
by the Convention Parliament who called hom«
Charles, that, several months after his arrival,
they had passed a bill annexing it to the imperial
crown of this realm, being encouraged thereto by
Clarendon, who, on several public occasions, both
before and after the vote, dwelt with pompom)
rhetoric on the subject.' When Charles made np
his mind to "chafler away* the conquest of the
"magnanimous uanrper,' there were three bid'
dera in the market — Spain, from whom the place
had been taken; Holland, that wished to secure
it as a bulwark against the uow encroaching and
powerfi)! French ; and France, that longed for it
as an extension of frontier, and a beginning to
the occupation of all Belgium, and Holland to
boot. All three bid high; but Charles eipect«(t
more services from the growing power of France
than he could hope for from the fast-declininf{
power of Sp^n, or from ^e cautious government
of Holland (he and Clarendon were actually en-
gaged in a secret negotiation with Louis XIV.
for a French force of 10,000 foot aud some ca-
valry to subdue what remained of the iibertie*
of England], and, after driving a long and hard
bargain, Dunkirk was given up to France for
0,000,000 livres, payable in three yean by bills of
different dates.'

A D 1663 '^^ pariiament re-assembled on

the 18th of February, and presently

fell with exalted zeal upon the king's declaration n[

1 ItliiUtfdtbBMtbofDi
tb* blamj of It to Aahliij Coopn <H>ian«bnT7X "bo had pwd.
br tqnu. flflr PntfiTtAriKQ mod lnd«p«mlAut, Int wbo. Ilka bii
mHtoi King CliuI((.li*dD«itlHrblgati7 nor uj'rti'iiigatuch-

cnnnikU thafaOFMor tl»PspM>"th«MT '— thatlaiCMtla-
nudia, (ha Usg'i mMna^ In *bf« ■[witiiMDt h>U Uh bndoH
ofiOTRiuiHat wmtnuudtad— "d«Und boHlf oftluit &ilh,
Hbd lurvfghsd ■hMTpljr a^nat tha chimh ibv but bwn bnd
in," — Hft, Bat ha uji Dotbfnc Kbont tbi oofmnkm at hii
am dnstatw, tb* Dodin* of York, whlab took plHi BOD aftir.
< " Wbather II mmld nallj >»•■ iBan at great adnnlafa to
Enslud, had it been pmened, may be doubted ; ar^ thongfa,
from ita albiatloB, it mifbt hara afldrded a iheltv tar aai
pcWataaii ioata^ at tboae of tba (DBnT. ■ ntnat tarom Oaata
it baatea. or a lalW landlntplao* for our timiea; all Uiiae
n ftilL; baJanoed bj the

titii|4it the world. la the daji of Clanndon Iher wen Tai;
much nnkoown. It wai than tbot^hl that HtablUiumto an
the ContiHiit of Eniope ware at the iiaattat Imponanee (o
Ettsluid, and wera to be pnaerred aa the matt Taluable append
■(!■ of the Britldi erowB. Henea Dm deapalr at Mmzj at lb*
loa of Calala: biDce tba auzlatj of Cmm-ia to iiMaia Danklik
aa an aqoifaWnt fbr that l» : and henoe the nnlTenal sj vi

Alinnt Bfii, Snrt ^ Ciarrioim, b;
£Uia (tlia lata Lvd Donr).
■ Baa JfiWeim iSttnt^a, tl

,v Google

A.I). 1661-1678.] CHAELES 11.

indalgence; and the bill to ^va the crown » dis-
]>enBing power withoat consent of parliameDt wm
abandoned in the lorda, where the bisbops were
vehement against it; and it was deprecated in
both houBM, which joined in repteeenting to
Charles tbo alarming growth and increase of Po-
pery and of Jesnila in the kingdom. The com-
mona, however, voted him a grant of four anbai-
ilies; and then, their best work being done, he
was about to prorogue the parliamflnt, when the
£arl of Bristol delayed that menanre by suddenly-
impeaching tbo lord-chancellor. But, with the
lielp of the judges, who declared o^nst the le-
gality of the charges, the matter soon fell to the
ground. Bristol absconded; and the prorogation
look place on the STth of July. Daring the long
holiday which followed, the court pursued their
old course of revelry and riot; and a very insig-
nificant inanrrection took place at Famley Wood,
in Yorkshire. It appears that the government,
if it did not actually foment it, was perfectly well
aware of the existence of this ephemeral plot,
which was promoted by religious persecution,
bot which did not include a single peraoo of
any rank or consequence.

1664 ^'^ '''* fs-'issfinibling of parlia-
ment, on the 16th of March, Charles
made a great deal of the a&ir of Famley Wood.
Ha told the two hoases that that plot was exten-
dive and dangerous; that some of those conspira-
tors maintained that the authority of tlie Long
Parliament still existed in the surviving mem-
bers', and that others computed that, by a clanse
in the triennial act, the present parlisjuent was,
by lapse of time, at an end severml months since,
and that, therefore, bb the court issued no new
writs, the people might themselvea choose mem-
bers for a new parliament. He said that he had
often read over that bill ; and though there was
no colour (as, indeed, there was not) for the fancy
of the determination of the parliament (that is,
its emliug in three years), yet be would not deny
that he had always expected them to reconsider
"the wonderful chiusea" in that bill, which had
passed in a dme "very uncareful for the dignity
of the crown." He now requested t^em to look
again at that triennial bill. He said that he loved
parliaments— that he was mnch beholden to par-
liaments— that he did not think the crown could
ever be happy without frequent psu*liamenti; "but
BWure younelvea,* aud he, in concluuon, " if I

t> of Lonclon olhnid. thniiijh tbs lordnuij'rK-, mij nun
at maam} to Ihi kfng ■> Ihit Dunkirk might not bs illsiutal.
Aad wa an diipowd to btlttn Ituit, but tor th* 1ki|» h« mWr-
tiiiHd tbU Leuli wookl nAinl Um tlM uguacf nwklni Umaidf
m alwluM •* hii mnt CbliiUui in*>«tr. Chwi_ mxikl htr,

fit wltb lonM Uisa uibiuI tUowsncn fram tha nimchuta.

■ Tbaa woDilarfu] nUina^ tbst wm wonnwocxl lo tli» king
wd in Uu aUohitiM, mn lo tha (flMt that, if tha klnf did

67-1

should think otherwise, I would never suffer a
parliament to come together by the means pre-
scribed by that bill.* Charles was aware that the
Hampdens and the Pyms were no more. He
knew the baseness of the present pariiEunent,
which had been already nibbling at the triennial
act more than once,' and which now, without a
murmur, annihilated that bulwark of liberty.
This was so grateful to Charles, that he went in
person to the House of Lords to pass the repeal-
ing bill, and to thank them. He told them that
every good Englishman would tfaank them for it;
for the triennial act could only hare served to
discredit parlianents — to make the crown jealous
of parliaments, and parliaments jealous of tha
crown — and persuade neighbour princes that ^g-
)aadiBatitoe gixmtud by a monarch.' Such is the
account of this momentous tmuaaction as given
by Clarendon, who, in his tenderness to royalty,
forgets to mention that the king assured them
he would not be a day more without a parliament
on this account, and that the repealing bill con-
tained a provision that poriiameuts should not,
in future, be iut«rmitt«d for above three yean at
the most. But, as an eminent modem writer has
observed, the neceasity of the secnritiea in the
triennial act, and the mischief of that servile
loyalty which now abrogated those securities, be-
came manifest at the close of the present reign,
nearly four years having etapaed between the dis-
solution of Charles's laat pariiament and hisdeath.'
In this same session was passed the infamous bill
called the " Conventicle Act.' It forbade the Non-
conformists to frequent any conventicles or placea
of worship not of the Establishment ; and it im-
posed a soJe of pwiislunents, ranging from three
raonths* imprisonment to seven years' transporta-
tion. The execution of the act was not only com-
mitted to the civil authorities, but to militia offi-
cers and the king's forces, who broke open every
bouse where they knew, or fancied there were, a
few Nonconformists gathered together to worship
Qod in their own way. The close, unwholesome
prisons were soon crammed with conscientious vic-
tims— with men and women, with old and young
— while others were ruined in their estates by
bribing and purchasing the insecure connivance
of the moat corrupt and rapacious of the myrrot-
dons of the court And when (as now and then
h^ipened) a few enthuaiasta were driven to mad-
ness and insuirectJon, they were strung up on the

not mnimoii ■ fraab parlUmant within Ihnw ^aan Aftar a di»
aolDtion, tha p«n wart to DiBet and ima writa oT thalr oirii
■mtd; UtbajdldiKitwltbliiaoanaiii tlmapartbmtlihdittj',

In dstkolt of all oiiutltaud anthoiitiaa, tha alagton mlfht ■>
tembli^ wlthonl an/ rafalaraiuamoDa. to d'

* Bill! had b«en bnnigbt In for tba T^iaiil vt tha tr
on tha Bd o( ApHl, Itm, and tha IMh of Nan*. lesi

iV-f.

■.ffM.

,v Google

672

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Crvn. Avs Militast.

g&llowa a, Jozen or more at a time — this good-
natured king r&rely or never exerciaiog the pre-
rogative of mercy iu their behaJf. Id the middle
of the month of iiaj, Charles, " after giving auch
thanks to them 'as thej deserved,' prorogued par-
liament till November.'

In Scotland, where there were few or no cou-
ven^dee or sects, the whole force of this conven-
ticle act was turned against the Presbyterians,
whose faith waa decidedly the national religion. .
"All people,* aajs Burnet, " were amazed at the '
severity of the English act; but the bishops in ,
Scotland took heart upon it, and resolved to copy |
[n>m it: so aa act passed there almost in the same
terms."* Lord lAuderdale, who had supplanted
MiddletoQ, and made himself supreme in Scot-
land, which he governed for many years like a
Turkish paidialic, forgetting his old Preabyteri-
anism, at the passing of the bill expreased great
zeal for Episcopacy and the churchi and the voice
of the Earl of Eincsrdine, an enemy to all perse-
cution, waa drowned in the plaudits of tlie time-
serving majority. By mother act,' the Scottish
parliaiuent made an offer t« the king of an army
of 20,000 foot and 8000 horse, to be ready, upon
BiUDmana, to march with forty daya' provision into
any part of his majeaty'a dominions, to oppose in^
vauons, to suppress insnirMtious, or to do any
otlier duty for the authority or greatness of the
crowQ. The Eari of I^nderdale wished by this
to let the king see what use he might nuke of
Scotland, if he should attempt to set up arbitrary
government iu England by force of arms. The
Scots, according to the reasoning of this able and
resolute but unprincipled minister, had not much
money to offer, but they oould send him good and
hardy soldiers. Invigorated by the Scotch con-
ventitla act. Archbishop Sharp "drove very vio-
lently,' establishing what proved to be a high
commitfion court — one of the worat tyrannies
cast down by the Civil war— and peraecuting hia
former brethren of the kirk without pity, and
without calculation of the personal danger he was
thereby incurring. The prisons in Scotland were
soon crammed like those of England, tlie prisoners
meeting with still worse usage. Sometimes they
were fined, and the yonuger sort whipped about
the streets. Troops were qmirtered throughout
the country to force the people to respect the
bishops, the Liturgy,and the new-imposed Episco-
palian preachers. These troops were commanded
by Sir James Turner, " who was naturally fierc«,
but he waa mad when he was drunk, and that
was very often." The proceedinfts in tlie law-

courts, and in all the departments of government,
resembled those of an inqoisition; and yet Arch-
bishop Sharp was never satisfied, but complained,
like Clarendon, that there was not vigour enough.
He accused twiderdale to the king; he intrigued
tobringUiddleton into business again; and when
he found that he could not succeed, that his plot
was discovered, he fell a trembling and weepng
before the mighty and choleric pacha, proteMjng
that he meant no hann, that he was only sorrjr
that lAuderdale's friends were, upon all occasicou^
pleading for favour to the/ofuUtci.

The English parliament re-aasembled oo Qm
24tb of November, with cries of foreign war,
and anticipations of victory and plunder. The
Duke of York, as lord high-admirsJ and gover-
nor of the African Company, had ordered (he
seizure of some Dutch settlements on the coast
of Guinea; the Dutch had retaliated, and cap-
tured a number of English merchantmen. The
king, hoping to appropriate to himself a good
part of ths war-money that should be voted, fell
in with the popular humour ; peaceful negotia-
tions were broken off, and both countries pre-
pared tlieir fleets. The commons, by a large
majority, voted a snpply of £2,IKK),000, the king
protesting that he waa compelled to enter into
this war for the protection, honour, and benefit
of hia subjects. The city of London fumidied
several sums of mouey.'

1665 '** "°'"' " **** ^*^ broke out, a
most terrible plague broke out also
in the city of London, and in the course of five
months it swept away about 100,000 souls. The
anguish and deeptur, the wild recklessness and
profligacy which characterized the progress of
the plague in ancieut Ath«is, as recorded in the
pages of Tbucydides, were upon this occasion
repeated in the metropolis of Christian England,
and the loud wail and lamentation over the whole
of London was strangely mingled with shouts of
jollity and madness. In many cases, it seemed
as if men had set themselvesin earnest to "cune
God and die '." When the visitation approached
its height, those who could escape fl^ from tho
city, leaving their all behind them, while those
who were unable or unwilling to flee, remained
as ths certain victims of the evil. At Iragth,
the public haunts, whether for business, religion,
or pleasure, wero deserted; the lonely street*
were covered with gnus ; and not a sound waa
heard but the warning bell that accompanied
tJie death-CATt in its visits from house to liouss,
and the cry of the undertakers, "Bring out your
dead !" answered by the melancholy cry from
the opened windows,"Prayforu8!* Inthemorv

aha4ldiia(Htiiptatb> rtgont of LU ordan.

»Google

A.i>. 16S1— 1676.]

CHARLES II.

673

crowded puta of the city, hJbo, almost eveiy '
houM was Tuitod with destruction, aud had the
wanuDg plague-apot marked upon its door in
the form of a red crou, with the accompaDjing
inaeription, " Lord, have Bieray upon us l" " AH
the king's enemies,* says Burnet, " and all the
BMiniea of monarchj, said, here was a mauifest
character of Ood's heavy dbpleasure upon the
nation; aa, ind»ed, the ill life the king led, and
the vidcinHneM of the whole court, gave but a
melancholy prospect."

On the 3d of June, off Lowestoft, the Duke of
York encountered the Dutch fleet under the com-
mand of Admiral Opdam. The battle wits ter-
rible: Opdam was blown up with hia ship and
crew, three other Dutch admirals and an im-
mense number of men perished, and, in all,
eighteen Dutch ships were either sunk or blown
up; the English lost Bear-admiralSansum, Vice-
admiral Iawsdh, three captuus, the Earl of
Falmouth, and some other volunteers of rank;
but their loss in seamen was comparatively in-
conuderable, and they decidedly had the advan-

tage. But in the evening, instead of attending
to the pursuit of the retiring Dutch, the Duke of
York went to bed, and Lord Broanker, a gentle-
roan of hia bed-chamber, went upon deck and told
Penn, the commanding officer, "as if from the
duke,' that he must slacken sail. To the amaze-
ment of the fleet this order was obeyed, and all
chance of overtaking the Dutch was lost The
duke and bis courtiers returned from sea, "all
fat and lusty and ruddy by being in the sun ;'* and
these gentlemen gave out that the victory was

I llii lufa flgnn uhlblt* > Inl-TmU shlpof w4r, M ddlneKMit
OB Um Hal of Dm lordhlghadmlni], Judib. Dukeof Vork. Tha
tgnn m tbsrigbt, ■howLnf the itflru of « nnAllflr«Kr.tcBs1, 1a
bmn ■ print of tlw pirlod. * f»m J>iary.

Vol. II.

a gi-eat victory — that a greater had never been
kuown in the world; but the English people bad
not forgotten Blake, and they were very criUcal
upon the whole afiair. The duke was rewarded
by a grant of .£120,000; yet it was thought ezpe:
dient to remove him from the fleet, and to in-
trust the command to the Earl of Sandwich.
This earl got scent of a Dutch fleet from the
West Indies very richly laden, which had taken
refuge in the neutral port of Bergen in Norway.
The King of Denmark, the sovereign of the coun-
try, having some grounds of complaint against
the Dutch government, and being tempted by the
value of the fleet, agreed to allow Sandwich to
capture it in his port, upon condition that he
should have half of the rich prize. But Sand-
wich wanted the whole of the spoil ; and in spite
of the warning of the governor of Bergen, who
said that he could not let him entei- without an
express order from his court, ordered Captain
Teddiman to duh into the port with twenty-two
ships and cut out all the Dutchmen. Teddiman
encountered a tremendous fire, not only from
the Dutch ships, but also
from the Danish castle and
land batteries: £ve of his
commanderswerekilled,and
he was obLged to retreat
with disgrace and loss.

As the plague still raged
in London, the court had
removed to Oxford, aud
there parliament re-assem-
bled on the 9th of October
to vote a fresh war supply.
The high-church party that
now controlled the cabinet,
Hud that were all-powerful
in the House of Commons,
• continued to insist that the
' king would never be able to
establish a truly regal au-
thority unless he permitted
the clergy to coerce the con-
sciences of liia subjects; andatOxford they intro-
duced and carried the memorable " Five-mile Act,'
which rendered it penal for any Nonconformist
minister to t«ach in a school or come within five
miles of any city, borough, or corporate town, or
any place whatever in which he had preached or
taught since the passing of the act of uniformity,
unless he had previously taken the oath of non-
rautance. Next, this high-church party brought
a bill into the commons for imposing the oath of
non-resistance, not merely upon ministers and
schoolmasters, but upon the whole nation. This
bill they lost, yet only tlirough a majority of three.
Though the bill wss lost, the bishops and clergy
preached and act«d aa if it had been passed, and

»Google

HISTORV OF ENGLAND. [Civil as d Miutabt.

as if the people of EuglAtid were BlaTca both
by act of pHrliAmeut aud by the Word of
God. Their pastoral charges and their Mnnona
i-olled in louder thunder than that of I«ud and
Maiuwariiig upoD the Divine right of kingi,
the duty of pasaive obedience, and the eternal
damnation provided for those who rensted the
Lord's auointed and the ininiaters of the only
tme church upon earth. Meanwhile the de-
bauchery of the court continued on the increase,
;uid Oxford became the Bceue of scondaloua in-
tngiies, drinking, gaming, duelling, and ruffianly
quarrels. "The lady,' though allowed to
dictate to chaucellors and secretaries of state,
a and t« diapoee of benefices and promotion
3 in this loyal church, was obliged to share

I the king's affections with Tarious other

f women ; the Duke of York in these respects
^ closely copied his elder brother; and at
® Oxford the duchess (Clarendon's daughter)
^ began to retaliate in kind.'

si A.D. 1666. ^ ™" S"" VlW" "kid.

^ ~ had oonverted a lai^ part of

I I London into a wilderness disappeared aito-
^ u gether in the month of February, after s
Jf tremendous hurricane. The court vea-
S & tured as far as Hampton Court, and at
^ * last, when all danger was over, the king
U returned to Whitehall. During hia ab-

..• sence the seameu of the royal navy, upon
M whose bravery and conduct the honour aud
^K safety of the nation depended, had been
§1 left to lie starving aud moaning in the
"^■B streets for lack of money to pay their
1 1 arrears: And now the war threatened to
S^ be more formidable; for the French king,
gS by a sudden turn in hia politics, made
! J common cause with the Dutch. The Eng-

1 lish fleet, commanded by Uouk and Prince

2 Bupert, had been divided at sea. Early in
S the momiug of the 1st of June Monk unex-
E pectedly discovered De Ruyter and bis fleet
^ lying at anchor half-channel over. Seeing

3 the great inferiority of their force, an English
g council of war urged that it would be rash
" to begin a fight; but his Grace of Albemarle,

who had takeu to drinkiog to excess, and who
was probably then drunk, resolved to wait nei-
tlier for better weather nor for Prince Rupert,
aud he gave the signal for attack. He had only
sixty ships to oppose to eighty-four, and most of
theseshipewerebadly officered. Theoldofficers
tvbo had serveil under the great Blake had been
nearly all dismissed on account of their republi-
canism or their nonconformity; and the Duke of
York had filled up their places with a set of lord-
liugSfCourtiere.and pages. In this day's "mad
fight" the English suffered severely; a ship

»Google

A.D 1661—1675.1

CHARLES II.

675

and a frigate wen taken, aud all their ahipe that
came reallj into actioD were ruined in their muts
and rigging by tha chain-shot—a new invention
attributed to tha great De Witt. In the course of
the night the Dutch received Bomereinf orcements,
j'etiOU the morrow Monk renewed the combat, and
all that daj, however ill commanded, the Eugliah
marinera vindicated their old reputation. Night
again separated the combatants; aod again the
dawn of day — the third day of carnage — saw the
fight renewed. Bnt now Uonk fought retreat,
ing, and, after taking out the men, he burned
Mveial of his most diaibled ships. Towards
evening he saw the whole squadron under Prince
Rupert making towards him. Nearly at the
same moment the Prinix Btyal — esteemed the
beat man-of-war in the world — strack dd a sand-
bank and was taken by the Dat«b. Next day
the battle waa renewed, both sides fighting more
desperately than ever, until a thick fog inter-
rupted the slaughter. When the fog dispersed
De Ruyter waa seen in retreat, bat Monk and
Prince Rupert were in no condition t« follow
him. By the month of July the Dutch admiral
was again at aea with a still stronger fleet ; but
now Monk and Rupert gave him a decided d^
feat, and drove him back in rage and despair
to tiie Texel. They then detached Sir Robert
Holmes with a coni^erable force, which scoured
the Dutch coast, burning two ships of war, ISO
unprotected merchantmen and shipping craft,
and one or two defenoeleas villages.

But a mightier conflagration was at band.
The summer had been the hottest and driest
that had been known for many yeara ; London,
being then for the most part built of timber
filled up with plaster, was as dry and combusti-
ble as fire-wood; and in the middle of the night
between the 8d and 3d of September a fire broke
ont, " that raged for three daya, as if it had a
commission to devour everything that waa in its
way." It began at a baker's house near London
bridge, on the spot where the obelisk called the
Monument now stands, and it was not stopped
until it liad reduced nearly the whole of the city
from the Tower to Temple Bar to a sightless
heap of cinders and ashes. In the midst of this
terrific conflagration a report was raised and
spread that it waa the efieet of a conspiracy of
the French and Dutch with the Papist*. A
ntupified and desperate mob ran up and down
seizing all the foreigners and English Catholics
they could find ; but, to the lasting honour of
the London populace, desperate and bewildered
as they were, they ahed no blood, leaving such
iniquities to be perpetrat«d by the fabricators of
}\>piah plots, the parliament and the jadges. A
mad Frenchman, of the name of Hubert, who
had been for many years looked upon aa insaoe,

accused himself of having been in a plot with
two other poor Fr«uchmeii, and of having set fire
to the first house. His confession plainly indi-
cated the state of his intellect, and the chief-
justice told the king that all his discourse waa so
disjointed that he could not believe him gnihy.
No one appeared to prosecute or accuse Hubert;
yet the jury found him guilty, and the king and
the judges allowed the poor insane creature to ba
hanged.

On the Slst of September, while the citizens
were yet bivouacking on the ruins of Loudon,
the parliament re-assembteal after nearly a year's
recess, and voted £1,800,000 for prosecutiug tha
ill-managed war. A regular opposition to the
court was, however, now gaining some ground
in both houses. Although it included soroe/tfta
honest and patriotic men, it was chiefly directed
by the passioDB and interests of a selfish crew,
that were not a whit more honest or virtuous
than the court, and it waa headed by the profli-
gate Duke of Buckingham, who had "a mortal
quarrel with the lady ° These men courted the
Presbyterians and Nonconformists, got up a
fresh cry against Popery, and brought about
the appointing a committee to examine and re-
port on the alarming growth of that proscribed
religion. Having thus disturbed the court in its
fMtb, they proceeded to t«uch it in the purse;
and they introduced a bill for appointing com-
missioners to eiiamine the accounts of those
who bad received and issued the money for this
war. Mistresses and ministers, and all men
holding public employments, were thrown into
consternation ; they declared that this would be
touching the royal prerogative in its most vital
parts ; and Clarendon opposed the proceedings
with all his might, exhorting the king to pre-
vent these " excesses in parliament" — not " to
suffer them to extend their jurisdiction to cases
they had nothing to do with* — and to "reattain
them within their proper bounds and hmita."
In the lords an attempt was made to defeat the
bill. The commons hotly resented this inter-
ference with their privileges, and threatened to
impeach the chancellor and the Lady Castlemaine.
Hereupon Charlee, in spite of Clarendon's ad-
vice "to be firm in the resolution he had takwi,"
ordered the lords to submit, and so the bill was
allowed to pass. But the party who had won
this victory knew not how to use it, or could
not agree among themselves sa to the division of
the peraonai profit to be derived from it; and, in
the end, it was turned into a mockery l^ the
king's being allowed to appoint a commission of
his own for auditing the accounts. Charles told
the commons that they had dealt unkindly with
him in manifesting a greater distrust than he
merited, and parliament waa prorogued with.

»Google

676

HISTOKV OF ENGLAND,

[Cini, AMD UlLTUBT.

evldnit ilt-hmnonr on both sidea. The Duke of
BnckinghMS waa for k tiine deprived of all bis

pUCM.

Daring the MBekm mi inaorrection, provoked
bj the tyTMinj of I^nderdale ftnd Archbiahap
Sharp, broke out iu the west of Scotland, the
■tTODghoId of the Coveti&ntera. The people, after
being ridden over by the diagoona of Turner,
were exdt«d bj Senipil, Maxwell, Welsh, Guth-
rie, and other miuist«iB. On the 13th of Noyem-
ber, tbej rcee in a niasa, seized Tamer, and ap-
pointed a solemn fast-daj to be held at Lanaric.
Lauderdale waa at court, and bo Sharp managed
this biehopa' war with two troops of horse and a
regiment of foot-guarde. Daliiel, a militar]' man
of some reputation, commanded under the arch-
hiihop in the field. The insurgenta, who now
began to be called Wbigamorea or Whigs, had
few gentlemen with them, for all the suspected
had been "clapped up" long before. On the
28th of Kovember, they were attacked by Dal-
liel on the Pentland Hilla, and after a brave re-
aietauce, forty were killed on the spot, and 130
were taken prisonera. Even in their firet fury
thej had been merciful — they had respected the
life of their priaoner the lawtesa Tamer ; but no
mercy was ahown to them in return i ten were
hanged upon one gibbet at Edinbui^h, and thirty-
five more were sent back to the west, and there
hanged up before their own doors. Archbishop
Sharp made a keen search for all who had been
■D any way concerned in the rising; and, to extort
confession, he employed a new instrument of
tortore, for ever infamons under the name of "the
boots.* Though for the most part poor and ob-
scure men, the victims bore their sufferings with
heroic constancy, preferring death to the betray-
ing of their friends. M'Ksil, a young preacher,
was atroeioualy tortored and then executed under
nn unproved sn^don, Dalziel, a wild drunkard,
hanged a man because he would not tell wbero
his father was concealed, and killed many others
withotit any form of trial When be beard of
any that would not go to chiu^h, he quartered
soldiers upon them to eat them up.

Loais XIV., who had now other projects in
hand, wished to creep out of the war; and Charles,
being sorely disappointed in his expectations of

plunder and jirizie-nnmey, was well disposed to
peace. N^otiationa between the three power*
of France, Holland, and England were opened
at Breda. But hostilitiee were not snspnided;
and De Witt, being well aware of the couditiou
of tbe English fleet, resolved to avenge hia cono-
try for the injnry it had snatained at the hands
of Sir Robert Holmes. To save the money
which parliament had voted, and to apply it
to his own pieaaures, Charles had neglected to
pay the seamen and to fit ont the fleet. The
streets of London were again full of starviog
sailors; and only a few second and third rate
ships were in commission. In the beginning of
June, De Buyter dashed into the Downs with
eighty smI and many fire-ehipa, blocked np tha
mouths of the Kedway and the Thames, de-
stroyed the fortificatiiHis at Sheemees, cut away
tbe paltry defences of bombs and chains dnwu
across the rivers, and got to Chatham on the one
side, and nearly to Graveseud on the other, la
the Iiledway the Boyal CharUt, one of the best
of our ships, was taken ; tbe Boifal Jamti, tbe
Oai, and London, were burned. Upnor Castle
had been left without gunpowder; and then «•>
scarcely any gunpowder or shot in any of tlie
ships. There were many deaperate English Bail-
ors serving on board the Dutch sbipa ; and they
shouted to one another, and to the people on
shore, that they were now fighting for dt^lan
instead of fighting for navy-tickets that wera
never paid.' If De Buyter had made for Lon-
don at once, he might have burned all the ship-
ping Id tbe Thames; but, while he was ia the
Medway, Prince Bnpert threw up some strong
batteries at Woolwich, and sank a nnmber of
vessels to block up the passage. After doing a
vast deal of mischief, and inflicting still more
disgrace, the Dutch, towards the end of JoiKi
sailed from the Downs, scoured onr coast, and
then returned in triumph to the TeieL In the
month of August a treaty of peace was concluded
at Breda.

Charles had no great anxiety to redeem the
honour of his arms ; but he had entered into *
secret treaty with Louis XIV, for the conqmst
of Spanish Flanders,* which was to be followed,
at some not distant time, by the mbvenion of

Hsptad bjr Um nqrid dsolin* of Spsin.

ilaurtm On Siadf tf HulBTf, fim M
■trtkliig nmunuj of tlut deollne down to ISSO. " Aa bi Spain.
UHSptauh bmnch(ottha boBH of Anrtrte) *u UKd u low
twttn jitn ■fUmnli, tint in, [n tbe }*u IMO. Philip II.
Mt hit nooiBon ■ nilDed moiunhji. He Mt Uhb KniMhliif
■<*■■ ; he left thvm hit exaoiple uhd prinoipke of foiemoient,
flMiided ta unUtloa. ia piide, In ignnuog. In blcelrr, ind nil
the peduUr at mte. I tim nma loixwhen or other, thU
the wu of tha Ixiir Cinmlile* sloDe aoet him, b; hl> own ood-
Hwien, lie hiudnd ud liitj-fOnr mllllonii. > [mdldone mm.
la whit epede Kwrer he nokcued. PhUlp III. ud Philip IT.

wudotD uf policy in tha 11
urtheeceteiudUwtmonni .
ontrr, eien nor* than pecprtnl

ennlaa, ud that tijhuil "he h^dp*

celoPBioll,eoiiM«l<iiie.pprore. Abmd.

me princa wu dliected by the le™ ™

ndi iB BBdenihlsg tboiwh ikiw te eosM

,v Google

jtn. 1661—1676.]

CHARLES II.

677

the Dutch republic, and a partition of territor^r
betw«en Fnuce and Bagland. While nDaiting
-under disgrace and Ion, the people of IiOadou
had clamoured for a new parliament. The king,
vho had railed an armj of 10,000 men wiAoat
their consent, called hie old parliament together
on the 2Sth of July; bat without allowing them
to proceed to anj buaineas, he diamiseed them till
the month of October. In the interval ClarcDdon
was ruined by a (»bel whoee proceedings were so
illegal, and whose motives were go baae, is almost
to conceal the real transgresiiona of that despotic
minister. The Dnke of Buckingham, who had
made his peace with Lady Caatlemaine, and reco-
vered the king's favour, united with Shaftesbury,
OiSord, lAuderdale, Monk, Sir William Coven-
try, and others, iu a concentrated attack upon the
chancellor. The king himself had no affection for
hia old aerrant, and Lad; Castlemaine, the other
mistresses, and the queen, were all hia declared
enemies. Even his own son-in-law, the Duke of
Vork, was inimical to his intereatB,or lukewarm
in r^ard to them; and ha undertook the taelc
of intimating to him that the king thought it
best and safest for himself that he should resign
the great seal. Clarendon declared that there
was a conspiracy against him, and that he would
speak with the king before he returned any an-
swer. The king prombed to go to him i^ his
own house on the morrow, as the chancellor was
sick of the gout; but several days passed, and he
went not. The Duchess of York pleaded for her
tathtr, but Charles told her that what he in-
tended was for the chanoellbr's good, and the
Mily way to preserve him from the vengeance of
parliament. Monk went with a delusive mea-
nge from the king to the chancellor. Clarendon
then went to Whitehall, and made a desperate
struggle forthe preservation of hia posts. Charles
told him that he was assured that the parliament
would impeach him as soon as they came toge-
ther, and that if he did not resign and withdraw
himself he would perish on the block like Stnf-
ford. The chancellor pleaded his long and faith-
ful services to hia father and himself ; the king
replied that he was not strong enough to protect
him, that the power of parliament was great,
and that he was in no condition to resist it. As
the chancellor returned from Whitehall, "the
lady," the Lord Arlington, and Mr. Hay, looked

together at him out of the lady's open window,-
"with great guety.*' After four days Charles
sent Secretary Morrice with a warrant, under
the sign manual, to require and receive the great
seal. Clarendon, unable to help himself, deli-
vered the symbol, which was presently trans-
ferred to Bridgman, who had proved his loyalty
in the trials of the regicides. Clarendon be-
lieved that the storm was now blown over; but
he had offended too many parties, besides the
king and " the lady," to be allowed to escape so
eraly.

On the 10th of OctobertheseseioQ was opened;
and the commons soon voted an address of thanks
to the king for all his acts of grace, and particu-
larly for his removal of CUirendon. The lords
joined with the commons, and Chaiies assured
them both that he had removed the late chan-
cellor from his service and from his counsels for
ever. If this royal declaration were intended to
cover Clarendon from further attack, it was a
failure. The commons proceeded to impeach
him of treason. They inserted, without evidence,
some charges that were false, and some that
had nothing treasonable in them; but Clarendon,
however faithful to the king, had, in many in-
Btances, been unfaithful to his country, and the
whole tenor and spirit of his political life were
adverse to liberty. He had long maintained a
secret correspondence with the French court ;
and although the fact was not so well known
then as now, he had been guilty of the capital
misdemeanour of clandestinely soliciting pecu-
niary aid for hia own sovereign from the King
of France. Clarendon, indeed, first taught a
lavish prince to seek the wages of dependmee
from a foreign power, and to elude the control
of parliament by the help <^ French money.'
It should seem, too, that Clarendon'a pride and
austerity had alienated nearly all bis friends;
and that his grasping, money-getting propensity
was sufficiently notorious among all classes of
men. Evelyn, who was personalty a friend to
Clarendon, assured Pepys that my lord-chancel-
lor was very open to corruption, or that he never
did nor ever would do anything but for money.'
And, as Clarendon was ostentatious, he built
auch a house, and collected such pictures and
fu-nitnre, as excited the surprise of all who knew
the poverty in which he had letumed to hia own

And ataatLEUts La ponulng tboutlh lUiAbI* to viooBvd, thajr opvofld

ttieir nwiurdij. Phltlp II. {■ Aid to haT* baeD pfqqod agtSatl
lUadDd* PardinAud, iv nflnltif to jJaM th« amplrato hiiiKiB
tbe •bdiatioB at Cturio V. Cartiin II ii Itut u niiicb •■ b*
kned to disturb tbe pcam of nankEud, and to m«dd> m flTarr
qaam] that had tfas tfpBtrtaa o£ mppnrtlnf tha Robui, ud

lUtaaof tbajraociant aa)4acla,at tha tRatT<if MiiHter; but
'Onso tbfllT uorped dkiu on ^xtngal, ud
(■Trying « ajuglr tba wiu iifiiiiat FnssaL

In anj aUnr cw

»i:iu>dPhUlprV. w.

.obllvidrt

to thM or hk paopla, to tha int<nat of Spilii, .Dd to thit <rfaU

»Google

678

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

\Clvn. AVD MlUTAKT.

conntiy only a few jears before. Tt suited not
hia prOBCcnton to charge him home with his
conitant approbation of deapotic prineipiea, hii
fierce intolerance, and im penecation of the Non-
conformista.

On the 12th of November Mr. Edward Sey-
mour presented the impeachment at the bar of
the lords, and, in the name of the commouH, de-
manded that the Earl of Clarendon should be
committed as a traitor. Tho lords received the
impeachment, but refused to commit tiie earl,
'' because the House of Commons only accused
him of treason in general, and did not assign or
specify any particular treason.'' The Duke of
Buckingham, Bristol, Arlington, and others of
that party, including Monk and three biahops,
enterad a protest against the refusal of their
house to commit upon the genend chargB. The
lower honse waa thrown into a fury, and de-
manded a conference with the lords. Here
Charles set some of the bishopa to work to per-
suade the diaacellor to be gone in order to save
his own life and preserve his majesty's peace of
mind. According to Clareudou'a account, he re-
stated till the S9th of November, when the king
told his Bon-in-law, the Duke of York, that A«
" must advise him to be gone,* his majesty much
blaming him for not putting trust in the biahope
and in hia own royal word, "The king," con-
tinues Clarendon, " had no sooner left the duke,
but hia highneaa seut for the Bishop of Winches-
ter, and bade him tell the chancellor from him,
that it was absolutely necessary for him speedily
to be gone, and that he had the king's word for
all that had been undertaken by the Bishop of
Hereford." And that same rongh November
night, as soon as it was dark, the infirm old
chancellor fled with two servants to Erith, and
there embarked for France. When hia depar-
ture and aafe arrival at Calais were known to
his friend the Earl of Denbigh, tiiat peer roae
in hia seat and said he had an address to the
house from the Earl of Clarendon, which he de-
«red might be read. This was an apology, under
the name of an humble petition and address, in
which the ex-^ihancellor defended himself againat
some of the imputations, or, as he called them,
"foul aapersions," of hia accusers. After the
paper had been read in the lords it waa sent to the
commons, who voted that it contained much nn-
tmth,and scandal, and sedition, and that it should
be publicly burned by the hand of the hangman.
The lords concurred in this sentence, and the
paper wsa burned accordingly. A bill for ban-
ishing and disenabling the fugitive was soon
passed by both houses. By this bill, unless he
surrendered himself before the let of February,
he was tobe banished for life; disabled from ever
again holding any office; subjected, if he after-

wards returned to England, to the penalties of
high treason; and rendered incapable of pardon
without the conaent of the two Houses of Parlia-
ment. Only Hollia and a few others of no name
protested against this bill. Tha proud old man
bore hia misfortunes with little dignity, and he
died an exile in France about seven years after
hia flight.

Sir Thomas Clifibrd, firat commiauoner of the
treasury, afterwards Lord Clifford and bigb-
treasurer, the Earl of Arlington, aecretaiy oi
state, the Duke of Buckingham, Lord Ashley,
chancellor of the exchequer, afterwards Earl of
Shaftesbury and lord-chancetlor, and the Dnke
of Lauderdale, now divided among them the au-
thority and profita of government. The five ini-
tial letters of their names, put together, spelled
the word cabal, and their doings anaweied to
this title, by which their worthless ministiy i»
commonly designated.

A D 1668 Some of the acta of the Osbnl
ministry were, hovevei-, such u
might meet the approval of better and purer
politicians than the members of the parliament
of that time. They took alarm at the daiing
ambition of Ijouis XIV., who had invaded Span-
ish Flanders with three armies, and waa threat-
ening the independence of the United Provinces,
and, by means of that able diplomatist Sir Wil-
liam Temple, they opened negotiations with the
great De Witt, who was still at the head of (hs
Dutch republic The speedy resnlt was, the for-
mation of the &med triple alliance between fiig-
land, Holland, and Sweden, with the object of
mediating a peace between France snd Spain,
and checking the schemes of Louia.' The French
monarch knew that a league where Charles waa
concerned could not be lasting; and, setting on
foot new intrigues, he,- for the present, made a
show of moderation, and in the month of April
concluded the treaty of Aix-la-Chnpelle, retaia-
ing Lille, Toumai, Douai, Charleroi, and other
places of great strength and importance in Flan-
ders, and giving back to Spain the whole of
Franche-Comt^ which he had oveirun. As a
sample of his pnblic honesty, it may be moitioD-
ed, that while his minister was actually negotia-
ting the triple alliance at the Hague, Charles was
maintaining a close correspondence at Paris, andi
through hia sister the Ducheas of Orleans, the
Duke of Buckingham, and Rouvigny, was making
overtures for a clandestine treaty with Ijyai*.
The Duke of York also was lient upon this nnion
with the despotic conrt of France, declaring that
nothing else could re-establish the English court.

' In nllnqnldilng Hm p«y of the TniMh kinf. Ch**" ■**
lo get •uppl« fcr hi* iriaunn turn Mm now hnmblBl ""V"
po«rW»d«iort(rfSp«lii;iindT«iiil.«.lnrtTO*«H»»*"°"

,v Google

AH. 1861 -1673.]

CHARLES II.

679

Id foct, it wu alrettdj the cherished project of
both bruthera to nuke the power of the English
crown abaolute by the Mcl of Lotiia XIV. Pu^
liament hkd met on the 10th of Febrnaiy. It
was charmed with the triple league — with its
etneutiftUj Protestuit ctaftracter, tind with the
recogmtiMi b; Spain of tlie independence of Por-
tugal. By hji marriage tremtj Charles hud en-
gaged to .support the intereats of the house of
Bnganza, and he had even saot ft small body of
Euglish troops into Portugal, where, though left
iu a miserAble, paylesa condition,' they had bo-
h&ved rsry gallantly at the great battle of Evora,
in which the Spaniards, under Don John of
Austria, had been completely defeated. The
parliament waa farther gratified by a treaty of
commerce which had been conclmied with Spain.
But all their good humour disajqiearad at the
first bloah of a project of religious toleration.
The king, in his speech, bad recommended "sonie
course to beget a better union and ccmiposnre in
the minds of his Protestant subjects in matteis
of religion;" and it became known that Bridg-
msn, now lord-keeper, the chief-baron. Sir Mat-
thew Hale, Bishop Willcins, Ashley, and Buck-
ingham, had hud the foundations of a treaty with
Uie Nonconfonnistsjonthehasisof a comprehen-
sion for the Ftesbyterians and a toleration for
the minor Protestant sects. The orthodoxy of
the HouM of CommoDS was aa powerful and as
intolerant as it had been in 1062. tfembers
could not speak fast enough or load enough.
They declared that the only true Protestant reli-
^on and monarchy would be snhverted; they
kept hack the supplies; they spoke of making a
searching inquiry into the miscarriages of the
late Dutch war, and into the owruptiona and
pecolations of ministera and other servants of
government. Charles wanted the money, was
alarmed at their fury, and gave up the scheme
of toleration. It was saad at the time, that who-
ever pro|K>aed new laws about religion must do
it with a rope about his neck! The commons
finished by continuing the conventicle act and
inveasing its rigour. They adjourned on the
8th of May to tlie 11th of August, nt the desire
of the king, who wisely intemipted a struggle
which had arisen between the two houses, touch-
ing a question of privilege, and a bold attempt of
Uie lords to extend their jurisdiction at thi

In Uh following leu (lOTOX b]
flT( cblldim, which ths klug ownti, ha almted bar to
■cii^f<ClaT«huid,wlthnBiuiid«rtohvltftiinlBD>. "1
•.' aji Bwiut, "•woraumf gTMl btwitj, but mortm

pense of the commona They had voted a supply
of .^10,000.

My Lady Caatlemaine was now " mightily out
of request, the king going Mttle to her." He had
been captivated by Mary Davies, who danced a

narvellonsly, and by Nell Gwyu, another
public actress, both of whom he was accustomed
introduce at court. Lady CasUemuue retali-
ated; but, in spite of tbe king's inconstancies and

own, she retained for many years a great
influence.' There were royal projects of abduc-
tion and divorce, adulterous if not incestuous
intrigoee, which might figure in the Satires of
Juvenal, but which can find no place in our pages-
Parliament re-assembled in October to vote
the king more money, to strengthen the coercive
powers of the church, and to do nothing else; for
they were abniptiy dissolved after a short seedon.
They were not bo liberal as was desired, and
Cbaries was now completing bis arrangements
with Lonia, which be hoped wonld render him

ver independent of parliaments.'

,^jf. When the houses met again (on
' the 14th of February), Charles,
contrary to English usage, and in imitation of
Louis XIV., went to open the sesdoD with an
escort of his guards. His whole tone, too, was
changed, and he seemed to threaten where he
ised to cajole. Nor was there any increaae of
spirit on the part of the commons to meet this
absolute bearing. They allowed the king to
speak contemptuously of the eommisaiou for
auditing the public accounts; and, after voting
some supplies, they separated like a set of venal
cowards. Charles and his brother, whose reli-
gious Eeal was different, hut whose love of abso-
lute power was pretty equal, though James was
the steadier despot, and Charies chiefly loved
abeolutism for the command it would give him
ovn- the puTBes, pens, and tongues' of his people,
conceived that it would now be sn easy task to
change both the religion and government of the
nation. They proposed to fortify Rymonth,
Hull, and Portamonth. Hie fieet was under the
duke, who was still the lord-admiral; the guards
had been increased, and it was calculated — rather
rashly, no doubt— that both the amy and navy
would stand by the king in any attempt Louis
stepped in with offers of assistance in men and
money; but he drove a hard bargain, and involved

him, tbU •^ton hi wu anl niaiUr of hlnailt vn npibla at
mlndlag bialiiM.- TUi ■nooBt k moi* thu tDi» aot V »
i»ri»t7 of utbofJUo. ■ »mliyxrlr.

• Aooidlns to BunuV ChariH em tidd L>cd Emu Uut h*
did DM wlib to rit IlkokTntklahtaltu, ukd «»■« hia rab-
;«et> to tba bovitriiia; hot ba c«M not bw Uul * n> af

»Google

680

mSTOET OF ENGLAND.

[Cini, AMD UlUTABT.

his went ni\j in a ftweign MhenM of gigantic
iuiquitf . The FVench monarch panted to cnitli
the independent republic of H<dUnd,»adtognBp
the entire fipaniidi monarchy, which waa Uien
feebly held bj a boj, the sicklj and imbecile
Charles IL, who was not expected to live. He
therefore propaaed: — 1. That he and Charles
■honld declare and make war with th^r united
foroee bj land and aea npon the United Fro-
vincM, and never make peace or truce until thej
had oompletelj conqaered that ungrateful and
inaolent republic: then Louis was to give the
King of England a part of Zeeland, to provide, if
ponble, a territory or an indemnitj for Charles's
joiing nephew, William, Prince of Orange. 2.
That in Uie event of any new rights or tiUes
accming to his most Christian majeety (that is,
on the death of the young King of Spain), CharUa
ihonld aaaiat him vith all his force by aea and
Iknd, the expense of that war to be borne by
Louis, and Oiarlea to have, aa his share of the
spoil, Ostend and Minorca, and such parts of
Spanish South America as he might choose to
conqner for himself at bis own expense and risk.
And then came the more immediate, or moat
tempting part of the bar^n, which was, that
Charleswasto have an annual pension of ;ES0O,OO0,
to be paid quarterly by the King of France, and
the aid of 6000 French infantry. With this as-
sistAnoe he waa to make a public declaration of
Catholiciti/. Louis wished to begin with a decla-
ration of war against Holland; Charies, with his
profession of the Boman Catholic religion — or
•0 at least he pretended.' He also wanted money
from France before hedid anything. To remove
these difficulties, t«iiis employed Henrietta,
Duchess of Orleans, Charles's sister, who came
over to Dover with the fascinating Mademoiselle
Kerouaille in her train. Charles wavered in his
resolutions, and, with Clifford, Amndel, and
Arlington, all Catholics (Arundel not being of
the cabinet), fully concluded the treaty on this
footing on the SSd of May, 1670.' The Duchess
of Orleans returned with the treaty to France,
where she died very shortly after, not without
unusually strong suspicions of being poisoned by
her husband. Mademoiselle Kerouaille became
mistress to Charles, Duchess of Fortamouth, &c. ;
aud, as she served his interests well in many
ways, Louis XIV., in 1673, gave her a French
title and estate. When parliament re-ssBembled

in the month of October, the faadga of auiiuplion
and slavery was atill mc»e conqtiewnn on tbe
majority in the commcHia They voted an ex-
traordinary supply for the navy, heanse tJiej-
were told by the coort that the YreaA kingw^ta
enlarging his Qeet and roqnired looking mSber,
Sir John Coventiy put a qneation, which wu
taken as a gross reflection on the kin|^ amonra,
and the onlucky member waa denonneed vitli
futy at coort. It wae said that, if this were
allowed to pass, worse disloyal^ wonld foUow;
that it wonld grow into a fashimi, snd that it
was therefore fit to take such severe notice of
this slip as should stop peojde's mouths tar the
future.' "The Duke of York," says Bnntet,
"told me he said all he conid to the kii^ to
divert him from the rmolation he took, whi^
waa to send some of the gnarda, and watch in
the streets where Sir John lodged, and leave a
mark upon him. Sands and Obrian, and aome
others, went thither, and, as Coventry was gmng
home, they drew about him. He stood op to
the wall and snatched the flambeau out of his
servant's hand, and, with that in one hand and
his sword in the other, he defended himself so
well that he got more credit \rj it than by all
the actions of his life. He wounded some of
them, but was soon disarmed, and then they cut
his nose to the bone, to teach him to reOiember
what respect he owed to the king; and so they
left him, and went back to tlie Duke of Mon-
mouth's, where Obrian's ann was dressed. That
matter waa executed by orders from the Duke of
Monmouth, for which he was severely censured,
because he lived then in profeesions of friendship
with Coventry, so that his subjection to the king
was not thought mi excuse for directing so vil«
an attempt on his friend, without sending him
secret notice of what was designed. Coventry
had his uoee so well sewed up, that the scar was
scarce to be discerned." This outrage was so
atrocious, that even that parliament could not
overlook it They passed a bill, known by the
name of the "Coventry Act,' making catting and
maiming a capital offence ; but they had not
couiage sufficient to bring the king^ bastard
or any of his bravoes to trial. " Lords' noses,"
said Sir Bobert Holt, in the course of the de-
bate, "are even as our noses, and not of steel :
it concerns the lords as well as na, as in Lord
Ormond's case." Here allusion was made to out-

< Dopatchia, HanuHtali. As, in Appandfi ta Jfcnslr* (tf
mt Jb-italn anil IMaod, tij tiir John Dilrf mpl*, who bud the
wit or flrrt pTodaTlng manr at them flom the frleadlj olwiiHtj

■Thetntt;, •• flnally ODOiiiaded it Dottr, la (tien at length
r Dr. Llngird {mu. Bug.), from the orl|tTwI, In pmataaloD of

llbedrlo

did ill In oonUntlnf thmrnwHwrn with puliiiif <lo

■'nlhe titU.

bnXh.1. wd did not go >nd pull down Ihe n«t

>M It While-

die; but thia

dMnolimTenttheoompoeitliiB inddtmiliitionor

hitter BUn,

in the ih^o of ( peUdon to the king'i miMnm.

pnetltutae whoH boim hid bwi pnlled down.

■■n.!..-«w.

Pepy^ "thow. thit the Untei ■» looie, u>d ton

••toainW

»Google

A.D. 1661-1675.]

CHARLES II.

ragas committed tbe same year \ty r very con
■picuooBTillMD—^the noted Colonel filood. Thi
deipeiado, with five other mfiianB, had aeized
the Duke of Ormood as he vaa returning from
a public dinner in the city, dragged him 01
hia coach, mouatad him behind one of the gang
on horaebacic, to whom they bound him fast, and
rode off with bim towards Tytmm with a deaign
to hang him there, to revenge the deaths of
Blood's fellow-conspiratora, who were executed
for a plot to sorpriae the castle of Dublin
1663; but, in the way thither, hia grace made a
ahift to diamount his man, and while they lay
atruggling together on the ground, hia domeatica,
who had been alarmed by hia coachman and some
)MK)ple living in the neighbourhood, came up to
hia assistance. Blood then let go his hold, and
lundeofF, firing a piatol at thedulte. So villainous
an attempt excited the indignation of the whole
kingdom, and a proclamation was iaeued offering
jEIOOO reward to any man who should discover
any one of the asaaauna; and the like aum
a free pardon to any one of the band who atu
betray the rest But no discovery was made till
Blood himself was taken the next year in a most
daring attempt to carry off the crown of England
ont of the Tower. "The king," says Ralph, "had
the curiosity to see a villain of a aize and com-
(ilexion so extraordinary; and the Duke of Or-
niond remarked upon it, that the man need not
despair, for surely no king should wish to see a
malefactor but with intention to pardon him."
Blood's behaviour before the king is deacribed
aa being as extraordinary as hia exploita It is
said that he not only avowed hia crimes, but
seemed to glory in them — observing that his
attempt on the crown he could not deny, and
that on the Duke of Onuond he would not; that
upon being asked who were his associates, he
replied that he never would betray a friend's
life, nor ever deny a guilt in defence of his own;
that he even confeaaed that he had once been
engaged in a plot to shoot the king with a cara-
bine, for hia aeveritiea to the ffodli/, when his
'majesty went to awim the Thames aliove Batter-
sea; but that struck hy an awe of majesty his
heart failed him, and he not only gave over the
deaign, but obliged hia confederates to do the
same. It is added that be boasted of his indif-
ference to life or death, hut said that the matter

to hia majeaty, inaa-
mach aa there were hundreds of hia friends, yet
undiscovered, who were alt bound to each other
by the strongest of oaths to revenge the death of
any of the fraternity. Charlea, it is said, was
touched pleaaantiy in hia vanity and very un-
pleasantly in bis feara, and thought it moat ad-
visable to be friends with such a desperado.
Blood was not only pardoned, hut hia pardon
was accompanied with the grant of an estAte in
Ireland worth ;C500 a-year. Nor waa thia all ;
he was admitted into all the privacy and intimacy
of the court^became a pereonal favourite of the
king' — was constantly seen about Whitehall—
"and, by a particular affectation, ofteneat in the
very room where the Duke of Ormond waa."
" All the world," aays Carte, " stood amazed at
thia mercy, countenance, and favour showed to
so atrocious a malefactor, the retuona and mean-
ing of viKidi, tkeij cotdd not see nor compreli^nd.
The general opinion, at the time, was, that Blood
was put upon the asaassination by the Duke of
Buckingham and the Duchess of Cleveland {late
lAdy C^tlemaine), who both hated the Duke of
Ormond mortally."' And it is coneidered probable
that the ruthan acted from a double motive, aud
not simply out of revenge for Ormond's having
hanged some of hia friends seven years before.

The <^bief state performances of the next year
[1671} were a cruel pereecution of the Nonconfor-
miata, " to the end that these might be more
sensible of the ease they should have when the
Catholics prevailed;"* a public proclamation made
by Charles, that us be had always adhered to the
true religion established, so he would still employ
his utmost cai-e and zeal in ita maintenance;

id hurried preparationa for that joint war with
Louis, who was bound to make England a Ca-
tholic and an absolute monarehy. De Witt, who
suspected from the beginning where the first
blow would fall, who had certainly mora than
inkling of the Dover treaty, and who felt
that the vaunted triple alliance was now a mock-
ery, concluded an alliance, offensive and defen-
sive, with the bewildered and insulted court of
Spain. Louis imperiously demanded from that
court a free passage through the Spanish Nether-
Unds, in order to humble the Hollanders; and
told them that if tbey refused he would force hia
way with eit.OOO men.

It uid Mianl Fnneh noblniMD, u>d
Di» BIhhI, thit Impwimt, l«lcl hilow, who titd not ton» brfO™
lUMapUd 10 (tut the impmUil erown lt»lf out of Ihi To«ir,
pretrndlns ruriodlj of Htlii( th» n«(ll> than, nhen, lUbhlnt
tha kHp», though not mwUllj. hm boWlj went swi/ wHh it
Umnfli (ll tlHciUfdi, Ukn onlj b) tha noriiWnl o( hM hom
Mlta( dowD. Bvw hi uiM tD b> pardOMd, ind ■•■& nodtol
Vol. II.

thbiottttiktwuBvicpArdofbfld. Themi
but a tllUtDotUr nniPffidfkiL look— afftlii

I (poksB, uid duuiwoiulr ItulDuUli^." ' Salpt.

LifiiifUUlMtitfOrmnd. • UfttfJava.

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

tCiv

. AND MlLtTAST.

, --. Ch&rlea attempted to keep od the '
msHk to tile last moment. Ue <rf-
fered himBelf as a mediator, aud he probably ini-
jKwed for some time both upon the Spaniarda and
the Dnteh, But Lonia waa now readj, and hie
BateUit« rushed into the war like a robber and a
pirate. During one of those long prorogationaof
parliament, which were now becoming ao fre-
quent, he, with the advice of the Cabal miuist^te,
and without the least opposition from any one
aiember of hie council, on the Sd of January
suddeul; shut up the exchequer; an act which
amonnted to an avowed national banltruptcy,
and which had the immediate effect of spreading
ruin far and wide, and of entirely uprooting
credit. This was the robbery; now for the piracy.
Before any declaration of war, and while, as he
thought^ the Dutch were relying upon him aa
a mediator and friend, he detached 8ir Robert
Holmes to capture the homeward bound Smyr-
na fleet of Dotch merchantmen, whose freight
was supposed to be worth jCl,fiO0/)0O sterling.
Holmes, afteiwarda styled " the cursed beginner
of the two Dutch wars," fell iu with this rich
fleet and attacked it, but be found it so well pre-
pared that he was beaten off, and, after two days'
liard fighting, he got little or nothiug save the
eternal disgrace of the attempt. Then Charles,
sorely disappointed of his expected prey, de-
clared war; and hie ally, Louis, put forth his or-
dinance, and proclaimed his inteution of "running
down " the Dutch. Do Witt was well prepared
at sea: and, on the S8th of May, the brave De
BuyterattAckedthecombined English and French
fleets at Solebay. TheEngliah were commanded
by the Duke of York and Lord Sandwich ; the
French by D'Eslrges, Ia Rabini^re, and Du
Quesne. The battle was terrible, as never failed
to be the case when Dutch met English. Rut the
French, whose navy was in its infancy, were very
rsreful of tbeir ships and men, ss they were si-
terwarda in other sea-fights. There appears, in-
deed, to have beenastanding order to the French
admirals that they should risk as little as pos-
sible, and promot« all occasions for the Dutch
and English navies to destroy each other. The
Dutch vice-admiral, Tan Ghent, was killed— the
Earl of Sandwich was blown up by afire-ship and
perished, witli nearly all his crew — and the Duke
of York was well nigh sharing the same fate.'
After fighting from morning to evening, the
fleets ■eparated, miserably shattered, and with
no very apparentodvantageon eithersiile. Mean-
while Louis, threatening to drown those shop-
keepers in theirown ditches, was marching to the
Rhine with 100,000 men, commanded by those
great and experienced generals, Turenne, Cond£,

' iM RsblnUn, (h* mr-ndininl of Uw Pnacli. dM of hli

and Loxemboui^, aud with money-cheats filled
with gohl, to bribe and to buy. He crossed the
Rhine almost withoutashnwof opposition, over-
ran three of the seven United Froviucea, and
spread such consternation in the great trading city
of Amsterdam that the municipal authorities pro-
posed sending their keys to the conqueror. Even
the great De Witt despaired, and suggested the
inevitable necessity of submisMon. But behind the
river Mass and the broad dikes of South Holland
there lay a phl^;matic youth who never kitew
despair, and who was destined to check the proud
monarch of France in his prime, to oppose him
with marvellous peraeverauee through thirty
years, and to organize asystem which triumphed
over him in his old age. Thin was William of Nas-
sau, Prince of Orange, who was then in his twenty-
first year, of a sickly habit of body, and, as yet,
of no experience. He was the poathumous child
(by the daughter of our Charles I.) of William,
Prince of Orsnge, who had rendered the stadl-
holderate, which had become almott hereditwy
in his house, so odious by his tyranny, and does
imitations of the proceedings of absolute mon-
arche, that, upon his premature death in the year
ISfiO, the States had abolished for ever that su-
preme magistracy, and created asort of preaident
in the person of the pensitKiary John de Witt,
who not only administered the affain of govern-
ment, but took charge of the education ttf tJie
young prince. At the present terrible crisis the
Dutch remembered that it was the Princes of
Orange that had first made them an independent
people by rescuing them from the atrocious ty-
rauny of the Spaniards; and aB.beaideB the pres-
tige of his name, young William had given indi-
cations of unusual prudence and conduct, they
resolved to intrust him with the supreme com-
mand of all their forces. De Witt, who oould
not prevent this appointment, induced the re-
publican party to bind the prince by an oath to
observe the edict of the abolition of the stadt-
hotderate, and never advance himself to that
oflice. But now, the people seeing their towns
and garrisons fall daily into the bands of the
enemy, began to suspect the fidelity of De Witt,
who, unfortunately for himself, had contracted
an alliance with the French in the course of the
preceding war between Holland and England,
and, alill more nn fortunately, had now recont-
mended treating with the baughty and ungener-
ons Louis. Tlie two parties had always been
inveterate against each other; and now, while the
republicans blundered, the Orangeists— the quasi-
royalisla— who had long been deprived of the
honour and emoluments of office, intrigued, and,
without doubt, fsnned the popular fury into a
flame. At Dort, at Rotterdam, at Amsterdam,
and Middelburg, the people rose and called

,v Google

A.D. 1661—1676.]

CHARLES II.

683

for a Btftdtholderi the peiuiotuiy De Witt tnd
hia brother were barbuvimly murdered »t the
Hague; and the Prince of Orange, being absolved
front hia oath, both civilly and eaaouically, took
the reina of government into hie own hands.
William rewarded the assaaainB; and then, with
an undivided commBnd, and all the resoiircee of
the country at hie disposal, he made head agaioHt
the Frencli. Amsterdam waa aaved bj inundat-
ing the BiUTOUnding country; and wherever the
enemy attempted an advance, the dikes were
cut and the country hiid under water. The wai''
like Biahop of MUnater, an ally of King Louis,
waa foiled at the eiege of Qrfiaingen; and Wil-
liam beat the French iuBeveralaniutBttAckB. He
already showed all the coolneaa and closeness, and
inviucible tAcitumity of hia great ancestor, the
founder of the Batavian independence, whom the
Spaniarda had used to call " Silence." His plana
were never known till they were put into execu-
tion ; and so close was be that, when he had done
one thing, no one knew what he would attempt
next. One of hia colonels, after the affair of
Woerden, aaked him what was his next great
deugn. " Can you keep a secret )" said the prince.
" I can,* said the colonel, *' And so can I,' said
William. Aa the war wsb no longer a pleasant
promenade, Louis returned to hia capital, leaving
Toienne to manage it Charles sent over 6000
Engliah anxilixriea, under the command of his
mn, the Dnke of Uonmouth. These troops did
very little to asdtt the French, who paid them;
and an attempt made npon the coast of Zealand,
by the united fleet of Fiance and En^and, failed
altogether. Turenne remained maater of many
important places; hut, at the end of this cam-
paign, he was convinced that the conquest of
Holland would be no easy matter.
A.D.1673. A«"«"<««ol««'l)'T."
and a half, parliament met in the
month of February. Sir Antony Ashley Cooper,
the most crafty of the Cabal, and now Earl of Shaf-
tesbury and lord^hancellor, undertook to justify
the shutting of the exchequer, and to prove that
the war with Holland was a national war, which
ought to be prosecuted with vigour, and never
ended till the Dutch were ruined. The oom-
raons [some of the leaders of the opposition had
been bribed highly) voted £l,iOO,000, the sum
proposed by the court; but ibey fell with vio-
lence upon a declaration of indulgence which the
king, by the advice of Shaftesbury, had thought
fit to iaane doling the recess. The minister saw
the mighty benefit that would accrue to himself
and party if he could win over the Nonconfor-
miats, and the court calculated that the Papists
should partake largely in the indulgence. The
Duke of York, blinded by his religioua zeal, was
for a plain declaration of converaion to the Bo-

man church, bat Charles, infiuitely less isealous,
was alive to all the danger of such a step. Bound,
however, as be waa to France, it waa uecessaiy to
do something; and liefancied that, by subtending
all the penal laws in matters of religion, he was
giving the Papiata an opportunity of recovering
by degrees all that they had lost since the Re-
formation. The commons, after'a atomiy debate,
paased a resolution, "That penal stAtutes, in mat-
ters ecclesiastical, cannot be suspended but by
act of parliament, and that «n address and pe-
tition, for satisfaction, should be presented to
the king." At first Charles made a show of re-
sistance, and was supported by the House of
Lords; but his resolution soon gave way, aud ha
not only recalled his declaration, but also assented
to a bill to check the growth of Popery, which
was passed under the name of the * Test Act.* By
this law, which remained in the statute-book even
to our own days, all who refused M'take the oaths
and receive the saciameMt gceording to the rites
of the Chui-ch of England foRnolly Jbnouncing
thefundomeutal Catholic docfriue of ti&uaubstan-
tiation, were debarred from all public employ-
ments. The great question of the eucharist apart,
the Protestant Diasenters rejected the Anglican
sacrament, and therefore this test excluded them
as well as the Papists. Upon the passing of the
test act, Clifford, the Popish lord-treaaurer, re-
signed his staff; and the Dnke of York, whoae
religion was equally well known, gave up his
ofBce of lord high-admiral. His first wife, Anne
Hyde, the daughter of the ultra- Anglican Claren-
don, had died with a public and ostentatiooa pro-
fession of Popery; and he was now, contrary to
the advice of parliament, on the point of marry-
ing an Italian princess of the very Catholic house
of Este. It was during a most violent debate
upon the subject of this marriage that Charlea
suddenly prorogued parliament, on the 4th of
November. Soon after the prorogation, the king
took the great seal from Shaftesbury and gave it
to Kr Heneage Finch, as lord-keeper. The other
members of the Cabal ministry, Arlington, Buck-
ingham, and Lauderdale, were in seeming odium
si court; and Clifford, who had resigned do ac-
count of the test, was unexpectedly sneceeded by
Sir Thomas Osborne, " a gentleman of Yorkshire,
whose estate waa much sunk," but who waa "a
positive, nnderteking man." Osborne, created
lord -treasurer and Earl of Danby, became, in
effect, prime minisl«r; and we now enter upon
the Dauby administration, which was, iu many
respects, moreiuiquitons than the Cabal. Shaftes-
bury at once carried his splendid abilities, his
cunning and remoraeleasnesa, into the service of
opposition, and became apatriot because he could
~ listerof an absolute king.'

« Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[C.Y

D MtUTAKT.

,„-, The pu-liament re-Meembled on

the 7tli of Janoary. The king,

alanned at the reports which had got Abroad

touching the Dover treaty, eolemnly declared

that he had been very atrangely miarepreflented
— that he bad no secret or dangerous agreement
whatever with France. The commooB thanked
him for bia care of the Protestant religion, but
spoke ominouBly of Popish plots and despente de-
sigiiB, and called for a day of fasting and prayer.
Then, guided by Shaftesbury, they hurled their
thunders at a part of the late Cabal miniatry.
ClilTord was oat of their reach, for he died soon
after resigning the treaaurer's staff; but Ar-
lington, Buckingham, and LauderdUe were de-

nounced as dangerous ministers and connaellon
that ought to be removed for ever from the
king's presence. But, in part through the favour
of the new French mistresti, the Ducheos of Ports-
month, io part throtigl) Charles's aversion to im-
peachmenU, and his congeniality vrith the de-
bauched Buckingham, he was brought to take
them all threeunder bis protection, and to enable
them to retain their places. In the meantime
the war with Holland was becoming more odioua
than ever to the nation, which saw the immeDn
sums it cost, and the slight probability there waa
of bringing it to an honourable issue by force
of arms. In three naval engagements De Buy-
ter had repulsed or bafBed the combined fleets
of England and Fnnce; the King of Spain,
the emperor, the Elector of Brandenburg, and
some other Gennao princes, had taken np arms
against Louis; and, witb their assistance, Uie
IMnce of Orange had driven the French out of
the Uuited Provinces. In this state of afifurs
abroad, and of the public mind at borne, Charles
durst not reject proposals that were tendered by
the Dutch for a peace, of which the treaty of
Breda was the basis; and, after some shuffling, a
separate peace between England and Holhind
was proclaimed in Loudon, to the great joy of
the people, on the S8th of February. In the
month of June, Charles, who waa still receiving
money from France, offered his mediation anew;
but the French arms were again victorious upon
the Rhine; the Prince of Orange would make no
disgraceful concessions, and the negotiations of
Sir William Temple, at the Hague, came to no-
thing. The war continued to rage: the gre&t
Turenne defeated the badly-amalgamated armies
of the empire, and CondA gained a somewhat
qnestionable victory over the Prince of Orange
at Seneffe, near Mens. Notwithstanding the

Chuls I. bMd pndiyitdl hurtful sITiiDt oa thi nitlonalshuu-

In tb* pUoH whkili hud bma mat •tnoglr aioitad bj tba »-

vat nTolnliDn. Tlis dMaiionUon wh in«t« in LdhiIiid llua

In tha CDUitr;, uid wu jmbst of all In th> ooaiil^ ind offldil

cln]~ Alin™t.Ulh.tr»m«ln*doriirhiilh«<l b»ngood»iKl

fOuHllDtlumtddJliwaidtn. Tlw jjrlnclplM ud fHllngi which

or Darbj ind Cipal itiU ilowod in minj leque^nd nuDoi-

hoow : hot .mnnc Iho-i mlitld irnit^ -ho, .t th. tinu. of

luidiwr>Kiuiipd«i. Tb> pun. fiuToDt. ud ooutut loTaltT

wblsh. Id th> pnmdinf n>i(n, btd mulnod Bi»b*k<n on kl<U

qf dbutHKia biltK, In tantfa ftmU ud cnUui, uid at the

(he riilnt Dourtiui. Ai llltla. or rtiH 1~, could the no ohleh

h^Mnl>ttl»b»datth.LontF>rlluil«lt. H«npd«,, P^.

V>», Cnia<rall, in diKilniuUd from tb* >bh_t poUticiuii

dininguidi tba men oho prodooe ntolulioni froiq the men

rooted iJBtflm — 1

ft T«7 dflpraTsd nun. bat he mji K«n»lj
wn] qiulitl«— which utort, aren frmn
it ndnilntion— fludneB of pnrpoi^ inlaiMQ

uid religioui

moinnaiti— In Ciwr, In Hnhomct. iDHildabnnd. in UMiinle,
in Lntbcr. In RoboqiiaiTii; uid thoa qiulitka wei* tLMUid, Id bo

in tha mkM of the eoaraeion whlcli followi m pea iwralntlon,
la lenonllj letj dlBlHwit. Heat, the ni
na, prcduocfl nrefkotion of the air, and
pndDoea cold. Ba nal makca nrolntiona, and nfolntioo
make BMQ nalon tor Dothinf. The polltidana of wbcm w
oapadt J or caqrac". ar

oooBtaDCf — an aaaj apathetic waj of lookblff at Iha HHal aolaDIi
qDoationt— a wlUingnraa lo laaTc tba dinntion of tlwir «nne Io
fOitona and popular opinloD— a notiou that one pablie fsoH la

baltar to be tba hireling of the wont caoH than to be a taanTt
to the bMI."- 1-. a. iiatanlnf (Sir WilUaB Tmpla),

,v Google

A.D. 1661—1676.]

CHARLES n.

685

popularitjr of the recent peace with Holland, the
court, and above all the Dnke of York, dreaded
the meeting of parliament; but Ghulea wanted
monej, and it was not until he had received
500,000 crowna from France—a sum granted at
the eameat prajer of his brother — that he con-
sented to put off the session fire months longer.'
A.D 167fl ^'' *^* meantime, the profligate
Buck ingham, hav ing quarrelled with
the French mistress, had gone to join Shaftcflbnry
in the r&nks of opposition ; and a regular system
of attack had been orgsnized under the manage-
ment of those two pseudo-pabiots. The session
opened on the 13th of April. The commons then
demanded that the English auxiliaries imder the
Duke of Moomoath should be recalled from the
Conliueut ; for, notwithstanding his peace with
the Butch, Charles had left these troops to assist
the French. The king returned an evasive an-
swer. The house resolved itself into a committee,
and the debate became so high that many mem-
bers were near drawing their swords on one an-
other. But to this great heat, which is said to
have been increased bj Dutch monej, there sud-
denly succeeded a cool quiet, which is attributed
to a, timely distribution of money made by Danby.*
Monmouth and the troops remained where they
were; sndthepatriotBtumedtbesTtillery of their
tongues against the Duke of lAuderdale. The
king again sheltered this pernicious minister, who
was equally abhorred by Scots and English. The
House of Lords was the scene of a much more
dangerous tempest Danby had resolved to take
the uo-popery cry into his own month ; he had
conferred with the bishops, and had made sore of
them and their party by promising measures of
increased severity, which should be applied alike
to the Papists and to all classes of Protestant
Nonconformists ; and the bill which he now
brought into the House of Lords was supported
by the bench of prelates — Bishops Horley and
Word speaking vigorously in its favour. It was
entitled "A Bill to Prevent the Danger which
may Arise from Persons Disaffected to the
Oovemment ;' and it proposed to extend to all
oCQcers of state, privy coonsellors, members of par-
liament, &C., the psnive obedience oath already
required to be taken by all ma^strates in corpo-
ratioDi. When Clarendon had attempted to do
the same thing, Danby (then Sir Thomas Os-
borne) and Lord Lindsey were two of the three
persons that defeated him by their votes in the
commons; but now this very Lindsey brought
in the bill into the lords, and Dsnby seconded ,
him. The king himself attended every day, to
euconrage, by his presence, the champions of ab- ,
solutism. Tliese unworthy Englishmen repreaen- ,
ted the measure as a moderate security to the

church and crown ; and insisted that, after ad-
mitting the principle of the test in corporations,
the militia, &c., they could not reject its applica-
tion to members of parliament, and that none
could refuse it unless they entertained anti-mo-
narchical sentiments. The oppoeition, which in-
cluded all the Catholic peers, and Shaftesbury
and Buckingham, and some few lords who were
neither Caiholia nor friends to those two unprin-
cipled driven,' insisted, that while the test waa
limited, there remained the high court of pariia-
ment to define and control it ; but that, by thia
bill, it was int«nded to silence and bind the par-
liament itself, and undo the whole birthright of
Englishmen. As to imposing the oath on peers,
they urged that every peer was bom to the right
of utting in that house. And here the minister
gave way; and, at the instigation of the Duke of
York, adopted, sa astsnding arder,that "no oath
should ever be imposed, by bill or otherwise, the
refusal of which ^oold deprive any peer of his
place or vote in parliament, or of liberty of de-
bate therein." The debates lasted seventeen long
days. At last the bill was passed by the lords,
with the oath somewhat amended. When the
test, in this form, was sent down to the House of
Commons, parties seemed so nearly balanced there
as to make the opposition fear it might pass; but
Shaftesbury adroitly got up a quarrel with the
lords about privilege, arising out of s question
that, in itself, had nothing to do with the test
The king detected the adroit hand of his former
minister, and denounced the check upon the bill
as a malicious contrivance of some that were ene-
mies to himself and to the church; but he failed
in hisendeavoura to make up the quarrel between
the two houses; and thereupon [on the 9th of
June) he prorogued pariiament When they met
agiun, in the month of October, the commons did
not seem very ready to gratify the king's eameat
longings for more money. They, however, voted
/300,0O0 for building ships of war, perceiving
with alarm that even the infant navy of the
French king was exceeding our own. An at-
tempt was made to check bribery and corrup-
tion, and even to put an end to tiiis parliament^
which had already lasted nearly fifteen years,
but it failed ; and, on the fiSd of November, the
king prorogued it for fifteen mouths i

Affairs had not improved in Scotland. Arch-
bishop Sharp still tyrannized over the consciencea
of men, and Lauderdale and his ducheaa sold the
honours and employments of the state. But at
length the persecutions of the primate seemed
to threaten so much danger, that the indolent
Charles roused himself for a moment, and com-
manded Sharp to hold his bond. In the year
i,ayonug Covenanter, named James Mitchell,

»Google

niSTORY OF ENGLAND.

rClVIL AXD MlIJTART'.

who bad fought in the battle on ths Pentlands,
and who had witnaaaed the horrid execntiona
which followed it, fired a pistol into the prdate'a
caniH^. A crj w«a isised of mnrder, but some
one aaid it waa oul; a bbhop; and bo nnirenallj
waa Sharp hated that nobody offered to aeiza the
asaaaain. He had, however, miaaed his aim; for
though the Biahop of Orknej, who waa in the same
carriaf(e, waa wounded in the wrist, Sharp waa
not toDched. Proclamationa were issaed offering
great rewarda, but not one would inform agaiaat
Mitchell. lu themonthofOctober,1669,lAuder-
dale held a parliament, in which the project of a
union between the two kiugdoma waa again agi-
tated, to be again caat aaide as impracticable. But
liMiderdale carried meaanres which be had at
least as much at heart. The parliament, b^ one
slaviah rote, tranaferred the whole government
of the church from themaelvea, aiid vsated it in
the king alone, who waa declared to have an iu-
hereot right to it, and to an absolute and uncon-
trolled supremacy; and by another act they aet^
tied that the conmdeiable Scottish army which
bad been rused fdionld be kept np, and that these

troop* sbonld be ready to march into any part of
the king's dominions for any eanae in which his
majesty's anthority, power, or greatnen might be
concerned, upon orders transmitted to them from
the coundl-board. By these two votes Scotland
waa thrown proatrate, and her soua were marked
ontfor the Hervioe of making the English aamncfa
slaves as themselves. Bnt a little later, the ptar-
liament that made these dangerous concessions
took fire at monopolies, and taxes npon bnndy
and tobacco; and they became so nnroly thait
Landodale hastMied to a dissolution. After this
cheek, it waa considered prudent to have reeonrwe
to meunres of gentleness and conciHatioii. Id
1673, lAnderdale followed up some minor indul-
gences to the Cbrenanten 1^ the publication of
an act of grace, pardoning all ofiencea againat th«
conventicle act But this lenity was correctly
attributed to weakness; it gained no hearts; and
in the increasing and multiplying conventicles,
tiie preachers taught their hearers to hate Epis-
copacy more than ever, and to abhor the court
and government which had forced bishops upon
; them at such an expense of blood and suffering.

CHAPTER III.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— A.D. 1676-1681.

>— ChuriM II, a

CHARLES II.

I patuioiMr of France — Contantioni in pariiament — Bribery uiicuig
iti diShrant partita— The Frinoa of Oranga marriM the Dake of Tork'i daof^iter— FnparatioD* tot a wax with
France— Alum at the pro«peo( of a itandiog army— Jealooij of tlia eommoni aboot Uia Idnc'i iiDoaritr— His
Tenality with tha waning powsn on tha CoutiDsot— Negotiatioiu for paam bsbvaau Pnoo* and UoUaud — The
PriDce of Oranga defeats tha Frencli at Mona — Tba peace oondaded — -Report of a oonapiraoy againat tha life
of Cfaarlat— Its particulara detailni to him— Titoi Oates aamiiioiied to warrant ila troth— His aecoont of a
plot for tha eatabliihinent of Popery in England — Ptariaiu hiatory of Titus Oatei— TncDniiat«ncy of hii alata-
■nenta— Uyiterioua mnrdar of Sir Edmondbuiy Qodfmy — Ths confirmation it imparls to the ebarge of tfas
Popiih plot— Arraata of ths Papiata ascnaed by Oatao— Bilk paaaed in partiamant i«ainat PapiaU— WiUiam
Badloe taket np the trade of informer — AddiUooa to tba plot given by Oatsi and Bsdloa— Tha qoaas aeooaad
aa ao awomplice of tha Popiih conapiraton — Exaontiou of Staylsy, Coleman, and othora — Prance, a now
informer — Hia daclarationa aboat Qodfray'B mnrder — Mora axeoutiona on tha teatimony of the informen —
lutrigusa to rapplant Lord Danby — Parliament dioolvad — Its unitabla and coimpt oharaoiei^Pnrchaae of it*
baitmsmben by Louis XIV. — Heetiogof a naw parliamant — Itsmolntioni againit the Duke of Tork and the
Papilla — Dsfaataaon a Protntant anccaaaion — Tha habeas coipna bill paMad— Affunin Scotland — PetsaaDtion
of the CoTenanteta— Anihbiahop Sharp saiaBiDated- Defsat of Iha CovenaDtere at Bothwell Bridge— Mora
aiaoatioDB in England throogh the Popish plot — Charlaa diaappoioted of Fraoeh money— DangerMd, a bsw
infonuBT — He cbangea hia racelation from a Preabyterian to a Popish oanqnracy— Rivalry between the DakSB
of Yoik and Monmouth—Tiial of Lord StafToid on the acnuations of Oatw and othan— He is BCHniled- Hm
na demand the Dnke of York's aicluiion from the royal iooceasion — Tha parliament haiiUlj diaolirad
naw parliamant held at Oxford, and also diawlTed— ExacuUon of Htaphau Collage, the "Protestant
—Arrival of the Prince of Orange in England.

3E war which Louis had kindled, I onatoneeodtheaametimeintheHediterTaiiean,
by hia violent attack on the Dutch the ocean, and the Baltic. France supported thia
commonwealth, waa now become | warwithseeminghooouraudadvantageonnearly
general in the Low Countries, in ! every side, but at a ruinous expense. She fought
Spain, in Sicily, on the Upper and almost siDgle-honded, for, of her three allies, Ba-
Lower Rhine, in Denmark, in Swe- varia, Hanover, and Sweden, only the last made
the Qerman provinaeii,aad it waa carried [ a diveraion in her favour. De Buyter, who waa

»Google

A.D. 1676-1681.]

CHARLES II.

687

despBtched hy the Piiuce of Oniiige to a^iat the
Spaniards in Sictlj, died of a wound he received
off Meaainft. Oa the other hand, Lotiis's great
general, Turenue, vaa killed near the village of
Saltzbach, on the lUiine; and aft«r hia death, the
Imperialist general, Montecuculi, defeated the
French in •averal encounters, croaaed the Rhine,
And recovered Alsace. Directed by the genius
of Vanban,who revolutionized the science of for-
tification, and the art of defending and attecliing
places of military strength, the French continued
to be rather aucceaaful in their Biegea. The
Prince of Orange ma compelled tn raise the
siege of Maeatricht, and, in attempting to re-
lieve St. Omer, be vaa defeated with great loss.
Under the very impartial auspices of the Engliah
court, an interminable treaty had been trans-
ferred from Cologne to Nimegnen, where a sort
of congress was opened in the aummer of the pre-
ceding year. But the hollow talk of diplomatists
did not interrupt the roar of cannon. The war
went on; and, during its vicissitudes, Charles
■gain sold hiuisetf to Louis, who engaged to pay
him an annoai pension of ^£100,000, and to send
over French troops if required. Charles wrote
this secret treaty with hia own hand, and signed
it with his imvato seal, while his brother Jamea,
Dsnby, and I^nderdale all knew of the transac-
tion. ChitBnch, the valet and back-stairs man,
received the monies from the French minister,
and Charles signed the receipts.'

A.D 1677 **" ""^ ^*** "* ^^''"'*^> P^lia-
ment met in the midst of great
{wpiilar excitement; for men had begun to believe
that the king had made up his mind to do with-
out pariiamenta. In the lords, as well as in the
commons, the opposition began the sesdon by
questioning the legality of the long prorogation.
The Dnke of Buckingham maintained that, by
the very length of the pron^iation, this parlia-
ment had ceased to exist, and Shaftesbury and
Wharton supported him. But Danby was too
strong for thero ; and not only were they out-voted,
but they were, in an arbitrary manner, committed
to the Tower. In the House of Commons there
were too many memben that gained by keeping
their seats, and too much TYench money had just
been shared among them,' to allow that house to
prononncc ita own dissolution; and the country
party were left in a minority of 142 to 193. The
lords now brought in a bill for the security of
the church in case of the succession of a Catholic
princv ; for Charles, though well provided with
illegitimate sons and daughters, bad no children
by the queen, and his brother James, the declared
E^pist, remuned heir to the crown. By this bill,
an immense power was to be given to the biahope.'

The commons, however, were indignant at its
encroachments. They usuerted, with some reason,
that it would vest the sovereign power in the
bench ; and, after two readings, they allowed the
bill to sleep. The lords originated a bill for the
more effectual conviction and prosecution of Po-
pish recusants, but doing away with the awful
punishment of death. The commons threw this
out in a rage, and drew up and passed a merci-
less bill of their own to prevent the growth of
Popery, and keep up hanging. The lords re-
fused to give it a sin^e reading. Both houses,
however, agreed in the abolition of the detestable
writ de h^retieo comburenda.

Still alarmed at the growing navy of the French,
the commons voted ^£600,000 for building new
shipa; but they took care to provide secnritjes for
the properemploymentof this money. EVeeh suc-
cesses and conquests on ^le part of Louis created
fresh alarms. They saw that the SVench were
securing themselves in tlte Spanish Netherlands ;
that the Prince of Orange was being again driven
behind hisdikee; and by means of some, who are
said to have " tonched the monie* of Spain," the
commons voted an address, prsying the king to
take such steps as might be necessary to check
the rapacity of the French monarch, and preserve
the Netherlands.* If Charles could have gained
by it, he would have broken his secret ba.rgBJn
with Louis ; but the commons bad bound him
mora and more to the French interesto by tying
np the daoofiOO, and betraying, on other occa-
sions, a great shyness of trusUng him with money.
After some parliamentary manceuvres, when the
whole nation began to cry for war with EVance,
the commons pledged themeelves to supply the
neceaary funds. Thereupon the king demanded
an immediate grant of .£600,000 at the least To
forwaid this grant, the emperot's ambasBador,
and the Mnbassador of the King of Spain, distri-
buted £SS,000 among the patriot* in the House
of Commons ; while, to prevent it, the envoy of
the King of France spent probably a larger sum
in the same manner. In the end, the commons
refused the .£600,000; upon which Charles re-
fused to dedara war without it, adjourned parlia-
ment from the S8th of May to the 16th of July,
and ^>plied to the King of fYance for an increase
of his pension. Louis offered 2,000/)00 livres,
making about £100,000. Cliarlea demanded

tkn domiH or Uhi king Cba Udiapi ih

CliuuBtrwbMbechahHlnibBribedUMdaeUntlciDarDM. If
hg hud Dot ntKTlbBl. thm thi^ wr* mipawmd to sppolnt
to kU Irkhoptin, fcbd to pnwnt to All bvnallda In tb« lEif^ of
ths crown, and tli<T mn to Uke iihu(* of tha aduation or U»
chlldnmnfthoWng.

■ Dalrjmpla aboin Uul SfioBlih moui^, Dutcb maatf, uid
BTHi Ounnu ntouT, u mil M Pmoh mniar, wh dlMribotod

,v Google

688

HISTO&T OF EKGLAin).

[Civn. ASS IClUTABT.

£3l<OflOO; aod, after * good deal of chaffoing,
obtAioed the UUer ■nm — in retatn for wbich he
kept off the meeting of parliament for nearly a
wliole year. This wag done, not bj [»t>rogaticHi,
but b; adjoaroment, in order to keep the foar
lorda in the Tower. Di brooking ao long a coo-
finemeDt, the Ihike of Buckingham, SalUbot;,
and Wharton made their bamble mbmiaaion,
and irere released; bnt Shafteabiuy would not
■nbmil. Eeappealed(othelaw,aud washeardin
the King's Bench ; but the jndges refnaed to ad-
mit him to baiL And theo, having made • noise
by hia long holding ont, SbafteBbnry mbmitted,
and was liberated some six or seven montluafter
BuckiDgham and the rest.'

During the long recess, Charles not only per-
mitted his nephew, the Prince of Orange, to come
over to England, bnt hastily made np a marriage
between the prince and his niece, Maty, the elder
daughter <rf the Doke of York hy Anne Hyde.'
James afterwards made a merit to himself of this
Protestant marriage, and ez[n«ased his hopes that
now none would suspect him of any intolerance,
or of any design to change the religion of the
eonntry. So fssential was the neutrality of Eng-
land to Louis, that be was obliged to conceal his
reaentment lest his unsteady pensioner should go
iartha-; and he condescended to listen patiently
to terms of peace, which Charles proposed in the
ioterest of his nephew. But, at the same time,
Iioois poured &eah troops into Flanders, and in-
vested GuisUin. The excitement produced in
England seemed dangerous; and Chariesand his
brother, who seldom agreed except in leaning to
tha iVench king, now went together into a treaty
with the Prince of Orange and the States-General,
and the English troops under the command of
young Monmouth were recalled from the service
of France. Then Louis stopped Charles's pension,
and employed his money in bribing the leaders
of the opposition in the House of Conunons, who
imdertook so to limit the grants of public money as
to make a war imptactit^le, or little dangerous
to the £V»ch king. These intrigues, however,
would have failed, or could never have existed,
bat for the instinctive hatred of the English peo-
ple to a standing anny; and the suspicions spread
far and wide, that Charles and his brother in-
tended to employ any army that might be raised,
uot in curbing the ambition of the French, but
in destroying the liberties of the English people,
and altering their religion by force.

t> I6~g '^° English parliament met

sooner than had been appointed ;

and the king, announcing a treaty offensive and

defensive with Holland, spoke roundly of a war

' Fori. Hill : DalrpmpU: tar
f TliU DUTTUBa had imn pro
tin F(j>>>* of Olana* WH nlhar

with France, and of lite imacity of fiotting
ninety sail of ships in commiBion, and taiBDg
an army of 40,000 men. The f^pcxitian, who
were afaaid to make a too opat resittanoe to >
grant ol money fcB- this ostensibly riiilistiiil
war, attempted to embarrass the omrt with caa-
ditiMis and restrictions; but these mawravtcs
&iled, and a supply was voted, in general terms,
for the maintenance of a fleet td ninety sail, auJ
an army <rf 30/KX) men. The victoriooa career
of the Ftench set home- jeakmsies to sleep for k
time^ Bt^ntents were raised with slaoity; am],
to jHtive the siooeri^ of (be conrt's inleudoos,
two or three of them were sait instantly to jvo-
lect Ostend sgainst Louis. Bnt still Charles re-
fused todeclaie war; and a/nrmost have known
that he continued a secret oorreapotideaee with
Lonis all the while.* The Prince of Ormnge bad
no confidence in his uncle the king, or in hia
uncle and father-in-law the duke; and the States-
General, tired of thMT costly alliance with Spain
and the emperor, wa« disposed to n>ake a se|»-
rate treaty without any very stmpuloos regard
for either of their allies. Still, however, Chsrles
and his brother urged on the levies; and still the
jealousies of the uses for which this army was
really intended increased, and very natnraUy.
Lord Bnssell, the purest of the pstriota, tfaoi^
hia patriotism was, perhaps, dimmed by religious
intolerance, inveighed in the House oi Commoiw
against the dangers of Popery and of a stsnding
army; Sir Gilbert Gerard aakl pretty plainly tbat
this army would never be employed in any other
work than in putting down the liberties of the
country; and an addrea was voted, calling op«xi
the king to declare himself. The French agents,
who had paid money to some of the men who
drove on tiiese measures in the house, were asto-
nished and irritated; but they were given to un-
derstand by the patriott, that if Charles ooold
render them (the opposition) unpopular, aa averse
to the pretended Protestant war, he would be
enabled to crush them, and command, by the
helpof his army,a slavish paiiiament to do what-
ever he chose ; snd though Bouvigny and BariUon
knew that their master Louis bated parliaments
in the abstract, they were perfectly well aware
that be relied very littie upon Charles. They
therefore pretended to be satisfied, and continued
their intrigues both with the king and the p«-
IziotB. The lords rejected the addren of the
COmraouB, which waa carried up to them by Lend
Bassell. The French ministers, at the congress
of Nim^aen, had already offered a peace npcm
condition of being allowed to retaiu two of the
five towns they had taken in Flanders — Touraai
and Valenciennes ; and now the emperor, the
court of SpiJD, and the Prince of Orange, inti-

' DaUjiMfk: Malp*.

,v Google

A.D. 1676-1681.]

CHARLES H.

689

mated to the Kiug of England that they were
ready to treat u[kiii that coudition. Charles mtuie
haste to communicate secretly with Lodib, and to
ask a pension of fl,(>00,0()0 livi-ea for the three
following yeare, aa the price of his guaranteeiug
the acceptance of the treaty by the allies ;' but
Iiouta, flushed with hie recent successes in the
field, told Montague that he must have Ypres
aud Coud6 as well aa Toumai and Volencienues,
and that he would satiaFy his English msjesty
through orders lie would seud to Burilloii; and,
iu effect, Barilloii fully aatisaed CharleH with a
new money - bargnin. And another infamous
treaty wae concluded, wherein the King of Eng-
land agreed, for 6,000,000 livres, to break with
the States- General if they did not accept the
terms offered by Frauce ; to recall his troops
from Flanders i to observe a strict neutrality; to
disband his army; aiid to prorogue, and then dia-
solve the present parliaiueiit. In the meantime,
the commoua had required that Charles should
either pay off the troops that had \tean raised, or
join the allies and declare war ngiiinut France. Ou
the 4th of June, they voted the sum of i20l>,000
upon condition that the troops should be paid off
with it immediately. They also granted £200,000
for the uavy; but they voted that no qiieHtion of
further auppliea sliould be entertsined that ses-
sion. Charles aumuiouerl them before him in the
House of Lords, and e[idea\'oured to cajole them
out of £300,000 per annum as an addition to his
fixed revenue ; but the commons were firm, and
all that could be obtained from them was a new
bill consolidating the gi'ants they had made in a
general supply. Then, on the 15th of July, he
prorogued the parliament.

The diplomatists at Nimeguen had settled a
peace upon the conditions offered by Louis, and
an armistice for six weeks was proclaimed, to
allow the reluctant government of Spain time to
make up its mind. But, on a sudden, the FrMich
commiiMionera declared that, their master being
bound to see an entire restitution made by the
emperor to his ally the King of Sweden of all
he had loxt in the war, he could not restore the
towns iu Flandera to the Si<aniards till his ally
the Swede wassatislied. The Stut«t-General, who
had driven for a seiAi'ate peace, sorely sgaiiist
the will of the Pi-ince of Orange, were confounded
by this pretension of making their frontier an-
swerEbleforplaces which had lieen taken from the

in his owu liajHl-wrjtiiif. Id fkaaurs tl>« Frfliwh king thut Ilia
loltflTvaiwtjtLaabjihiauifniJEdsr. pjijibj«Batbepenraati,aiHl
llw lettar una 1104 foiHMUnln lki*UB|iaiKbBH(.— I>>Ji>nj>'i.

Vol. H.

Swede by the emperor, the King of Denmark,
and the Elector of Brandenburg; and not know-
ing to whom else they might address themselves,
they applied to the King of England. Ctiarlea
chuckled over the deepening game, fancying that
he must get more mouey out of its difliculties.
It was natural for one that associated so much
with playere to acquire some skill in acting. He
put ou a virtuous indignation at the bad faith
and rapaciouanessof his brother of France; while
the Duke of York declared that Louis was seek-
ing the dominion of all Europe, and that EngUnd
alone could check him. More English troops
were shipped for Flanders, and Sir William Tem-
ple was sent to the Hague, where, within a week,
he concluded with the States a treaty binding
England to enter upon the war instantly, if Louis
did not give up his pretension of keeping the
towns in Flanders as security for Sweden. But,
while this was a-doing, Charles, iu the aporC-
menls of his French mistress, the Duchess of
Pottsmnuth, was langhin|t*'t^h ^'^ brother James
and Baiillon, at the credulity of those who be-
lieved that he was in earnest,' and was telling
Barillon to write for more French money; aud
shortly nfter he despatched tlie Earl of Sunder-
land to negotiate with Louis for the diasolntion of
the alliance just made by Temjjle, and for satisfac-
tion to Sweden, moi/eHitant subsidies to himaelf.
But Louis, who was at least his matoh in cuu-
niug and duplicity, secretly revealed these pro-
posals to tlie States-Oeneral, to show them what
reliance they could place on such a:i ally as hia
English majesty; and then, im|>elled by the com-
mercial impatience of Amsterdam and the other
great cities, which were, moreover,jeBlousof the
growing power of the Priuce of Orange, which
they fancied might subvert their liberties, the
States hunied to sign a separate treaty witli
Louis, that completely broke the coalition. By
this treaty the Spanish Netherlands— the ram-
part by land of Holland— were left at the mercy
of the French ; but the Prince of Orange boldly
resolved to do something with his sword in spitu
of the pen of Beveniing and his colleagues at
Nimegueij. Tlie treaty between the Slates and
France was concluded ou tlie Kith of August;
and as it was known in Loudon, it must have
been knowu in the neighbourhood of Brussels,
where the prince then lay with his hrmy. Yel,
on that day, the not over- scrupulous William
fell iii>on the French ami gave them such a lieal-
ing as they had not suffered for several years.
The Duke of Luxembourg was besieging Moiis,
a moat imporliuit frontier town of Flanders, and
he bad nut, it appears, Bus|>eiided his operations
very stncCly duriug the armistice. It wasof the
Utmost importance to preserve the place; and the

:ds

r; DBWi,..>iii.

,yCooQle

690

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and MruTAKT.

Prince of Orange, collecting the Spftnish coiife-
derat«H under the Duke of Villahermosa, aud
some of the English auxiliarjea commHnded by
the gbllant Loi-d Ossory, and all very ready to
tight the French, took Luxembourg by Hurpriae,
and forced hiin into a baltle under the walls of
Mods, and ia the midst of his own beleaguer.
After a dreadful conflict, in which 5000 brave

-?5;-^

MONB— Frum s print in the Untiuli Muh

men, of all sides, bit the dust, night separated
the combatants. It was generally believed that
if the Prince of Orange had been at liberty the
next day to pursue liis advantages, lie might not
Oldy have relieved Moiib, but have made a long-
deaired incursion iuto France. But on the mor-
row, Luiemboui^, at a conference, announced
the conclusion of peace between France and Hol-
land; and William, "Iwund by a limited autho-
rity," was obliged to retire towai-da Ntvelles.
Chai'les now endeavoured to make the States-
General break the treaty, and he invited hia
uejihew to join him in a bond fidt war. "Was
ever any thing so hot and so cold as this court of
yours?" said the Prince of Orange. "Will the
king never learn a word that I shall never for-
get since my last passage to England, when, in a
great storm, the captain was all night crying ont
to the man at the helm— Steady! steady! steady?
It this desjmtch had come twenty days ago, it
had changed the face of affairs iu Chrifltendom,
and the war might have been carried on till
France had yielded to the treaty of the Pyre-
nees, and left the world in quiet for the rest of
nur lives : as it comes now, it will have no effect
at all."' Charles then turned to Louis, who,
for the preaent, suspended the wages of his in-
Smy. The States- General stepped iuto his post
' mediator, and, under tlieir management, both
•in and the empire were included in the treaty,

and peace was restored to the Continent in the
month of October.'

Before this temporary settlement of the atTairs
of the Continent, England became involved in
fresh disgrace— in a plot which has not a parallel
in the annals of civilized mankind. Many adroit
politicians had long t)eea convinced that the
only lever by which to raise up a stem, popular
opposition to the encroach-
ments and schemes of the
court, was the old and atiirdy
... i-i hatredof Popeiy — thatthere

'^ .... would be no chance of keej)-

ing the people free, unless
they could convince them
tliat there was a design on
foot to make them Catholics
at ali hazards, and at any
coat of blood and crime.
There had been one or two
little preludes; but on the
]2th of August, 1678, while
the king was walking in St~
James's Pork, he was ac-
costed by one Kirby, who
told him that his enemies
m. had a design upon his life,

and that he might be shot
in that very walk. Charles stepped aside, and
appointed Kirhy to meet him at the house of
Chiffinch, where his majesty was accustomed to
meet a very different kind of company — his
panders and his women. There Kirby informeil
him that two persons named Grove and Picker-
ing had engaged to shoot him, and that Sir
George Wakeman, the queen's physician, had
undertaken to poison him. All this intelligence
Kirby said he had received from his friend,
Br. Tonge, a divine of the church of England,
who was well known to several persons about
thetf ourt. Oiarles agreed to see the doctor, and
Tonge presented him with an immense roll of
papers, which contMned the full particular* of
the plot drawn out under forty-three heads.
This was too much for the imtience of the king,
who referred the parson with his papers to Dan-
by, the treasurer and prime minister. Danby
asked Tonge who had written the papere? The
doctor answered that they had been secretly
thrust under his door, and that, though he
guessed, he did not exactly know by whom.
After a few days, however, Tonge told the trea-
surer that he had ascertained his suspicions as to
the author to be well founded ; that he had met
the individual in the streets, who had given tiim
further particulars of the horrible conspiracy,
desiring that hia name might be concealed, lest
the Papists should'murder him. Danby went to

»Google

A.D. 1G76— 1681.1

CHARLES II.

the king, aud proposed the instant arrest of the
alleged BBmssina; but Charles, who is said to
have believed from the beginning that the whole
thing was a gross imposture, declined taking tbia
step, and requested that the mntter should be
kept secret even from the Duke of York; saying
that it would only crente aknn, and might per-
haps put the notion of nmrdering him into some
head that otherwise would never have thought
of it. But Tonge, the chief performer in this
ante-piece, soon waited upon Danhy with infor-
mation that there was n terrible packet going
through the post-otfice to Bedingfield, the Duke
of York's confessor, then nt Windsor. The \oiii-
treasurer posted down to Windsor to intercept
this packet ; but he found thnt the letters were
already in the hands of the king. Bedingtield
had shown them to his penitent, *ho had deli-
vered them to hia brother; and the king, the
duke, and the Jesuit had examined them to-
getiier, and his majesty had been convinced that
they were forgeries, seat on design to be inter-
cepted, to give credit to the reveiations of Kirby
and Tonge: but the duke's enemies, on the other
hand, gave out that he had got some hints of the
discovery of the real plot, and brought those
badly forged letters as a blind to impose on the
king, while the real Jesuit letters were destroyed
as soon as received by his confessor and himself.
Charles would still have treated the whole story
BS the awkward plot or intrigue of an iil.con-
structed comedy; but James, seeing that the Je-
suits, and even his own confessor, were accused,
insisted upon a searching inquiry. Kirby, who
had fii'st warned the king in the park, appeared
repeatedly at court; and, failing to attract atten-
tion there, the mysterious frieud of Dr. Tonge,
who had written the forty-three articles, pre-
sented himself to Sir Edraondbui-y Godfrey, a
magistrate of Westminster, aud not only made
his affidavit to those charges, but also to thirty-
eight more articles which had been added to the
original list. The magistrate perceiving that
Coleman, an agent and factotum uf the duke's,
and a pereonal friend of his own, was set down
as a cliief conspirator, immediately warned his
friend, and Coleman communicated with his mas-
ter, the Duke of York. It was now impossible
Ui keep the businesH a, secret ; and Dr. Tonge,
being summoned before the council, was com-
manded to produce his informant. Thereupon,
on the 2Hth of September, Titus Oates appeared
before that board in a new suit of clothes and a
clerical gown. With the most mai-velloua self-
possession and fluency he commenced and con-
tinued his incredible story. He stated— 1. That
the pope claimed possession of these kingdoms
on account of the heresy of the people, and had
delegated his supreme authority to the society

of Jesuits. 2. That the Jesuits had undertaken
to expel this hereey, and re-establish the Catho-
lic fsith. 3. That in furtherance of this plan,
some of the society were employed in Ireland,
some in Scotland (under the disguise of Covenan-
ters), some in Holland, and some in England,
where they were not only plotting the murder of
the king but of the duke also, if his highness
should oppose their atteni]>t or refuse his con-
currence. 4. That these Jesuits had ilOO,000;
that they were in the receipt of .£61),a)0 a-year
in i-enta; and hod obtained j£lO,nO0fi'oro the con-
fessor to the Fi-eneli king, and the promise of an
equal sum from the pi-ovincial of New Castile.
o. That a man named Honest William and Pic-
kering, a lay brother of the order, bad been re-
peatedly cummiaeioned to shoot the king, and
had been punished for their neglect. 6. That,
in tlie preceding month of April, a grand consult
of Jesuits from all parts had been held at the
White Horse Tavern in the Strand, and had
there provided three sets of pistot-assasains; aud
had, besides, offered /tO,000 to Sir George Wake-
man, the queen's physician, if he would do the
thing quietly by poison ; Gates pretended not to
know how Wakeman behaved, but swore that
he had often seen him with the Jesuits since
that meeting at the White Horse. 7. That he
liad been himself urged to shoot the king. 8. That
a wBg«r was laid tliat the king should eat uo
more Chriatmas pies; aiid that, if he would not
become B. C. (Bex Catholicus), lie should no
longer be C. R. 9. That the Jesuits had been
the authors of the great fire of Ijondon, and were
now concerting a plan for the burning of West-
minster, Wapping, and all the shipping in the
river; and that he (Oatea) had a post assigned
him among the iucendiaries. 10. That the pope
had already, by a secret bull, filled up all the
bishoprics and dignities in the church, and had
appointed Lord Anmdel to be his chancellor.
Lord Powis treasurer. Sir William Godolphin
privy seal, Coleman secretary of state, Langhome
attorney -general, Lord Bellasis general of the
Papal army. Lord Petre lieutenant-general. Lord
Statford paymaster; and that other well-known
Catholics, of less rank, had received inferior com-
missions from the provincial of the Jesuits.

To account for the meana by which lie waa let
into all these dangerous secrets. Gates affirmed
that, as a convert to the Catholic religion, heliad
been admitted into the Jesuits' bouses abroad;
and this part of the story was true. His real
and infamoua history appears to have been iim-
ply this ; — Titus Dates waa the eon of an Ana-
baptist preacher; his father had been diaplain
to that Colonel Pride who purged the House
of Commons, but Titus, when he saw how the
restored government waa purging the chui-ch

,v Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

and pereeeuting and impoverialiing Noncoufor-
miata, conformed forthwitb, and got himself or-
dained a minister of the Establishment. This
wua time of sudden conversions: the timid and
the unacnipulous took refnge from the tyranny
of intolerance in cunning, lying, and perjury.
The son was sent to Cambridge, and took ordei-a
in the Established church. Being obscure and
friendless, he could obtain no living; and he
pined on the scanty pay of a country
While in thia condition he was twice convicted
of perjury. He was afterwards a chaplain on
board a man-of-war; and from that situation he
was dismissed with an increase of infamy. Ac-
cording to his own account, in the year 1676, he
was admitted into the service of the Catholic
Duke of Norfolk, and there became acquainted
with one Byng, "that was a priest in the house,"
and with Kemiah and Singleton, who told him
" that the Protestant religion was upon its last
h>ga," and tliat it behoved him and all men of
his coat to hasten betimea home to the Church
of Rome; and thereupon, he, having had strong
auspicious of the great and apparent growth of
Popery, to satisfy his curiosity, pretended some
doubts in his mind. But, upon conversation
with these men, he found they were not men for
his turn. Afterwards he met with one Hutchtn-
■on, a aaint-like man, or one that was religious
for religion's sake; and him he found not for his
turn either, " for his design was to deal with their
casuists, that is, those of the society.' But after
Hutchinson had introduced him to a Jesuit, be
found "they were the men for his turn, because
they were the cunning, politic men, and the
men that could satisfy him.' ITe pretended to
be convinced by the Jeouit's arguments, and he
was reconciled to the Church of Rome on Ash
Wednesday, 1677. But Gates laid his hand upon
his breast, and said Ood and his holy angels
knew that he had never changed his religion,
but that he had gone among them on purpose to
betray them. After his reconciliation with the
Church of Rome, he was sent, aa catechumen,
over to the ('ontinent, and was admitted into the
■leeuits' college at Valladolid in Spain. There
Oates stayed about five months, when he was
disgracefully expelled. He re-crossed the Pyre-
nees, and appeared aa a mendicant at the gate of
the Jesuita' college at St. Omer, and was not
only received but entertained Uiere for some
lime, during which he lived among the students
and novii'ea. But ha was again expelled with
diame, end then he came home without coat
or cassock, and either made or renewed an ac-
quaintance withDr.Tonge, rector of St. Michael's,
in Wood Street, a great Protestant alarmist.
Tiis Tonge and Kirby clothed and fed him while
' was writing out bin plot; and they bought him

{Civil asd MiLiTAsr.
u which he ap-

the clerical gown and new
peared before the council.

The membei-B of that board heard his revela-
tions with silent astonishment ; but the Duke of
York pi-ouounced them a most impudent impos-
ture. There were, however, aeveral menibei? of
the council, moved by different motives and feel-
ings, that were resolved to proceed with the in-
quiry. They asked Oates for docnmenta — for
letters or papers of some kind. He, who pre-
tended t« have been the bearer of Jesuit de-
spatches and lett«ra innumerable, had not a acrap
to i^oduce; but he engaged to find abundance of
documentary evidence, if they would asust him
witli warrants and proper officers; and the coun-
cil agreed to let him have both. On the morrow,
Oatea was again brought before the council; and
this time the king was there. Cliarlea, who did
not believe one word of the whole story, waa
afraid of opposing his miuietera in such a matter
as this; but on one or two occasions he could
not wholly conceal his feelings. He desired that
Oates might be made to describe the peraon of
Don Juan, to whom, as he said, ha had been in-
troduced during his travels. The informer said
that Don Jnan waa tall, thin, and swarthy. Here
Charles turned to his brother, the duke, and
smiled; for their old acquaintance, the Spanish
baatard, ahowed the Austrian breed more than
the Spanish, being short, fat, and fair. Charles
also asked where Oat£B had seen the King of
France's confessor pay down the /10,0007 The
informer replied, "In the Jesuits' house, juat by
the king's house." Here Charles, who knew Paris
rather belter than Gates, exclaimed, "Man, the
Jesuita have no house within a mile of the Louvre.'
But, notwithstanding all this, Charlea posted off
Newmarket races, leaving the council to make
what it would of the plot, and Oates to be lodged
Whitehall under hia royal protection.
[t is maintunsd by most writers, upon a variety
of contemporary authorities, that Danby, the
prime minister, if be did not help to originate it,
was anxious to encourage the ferment, which
might absorb men's minds, and prevent or delay
the impeachment with which he was threatened
in the next session of parliament. In ordering
the arrest of the denounced Coleman, the agent
of the Duke of York, the minister gave instruc-
tions that his papers should be seized; and this
measure, with avarietyof additional cii'CunistanceB
which came out one upon tlie other, contributed
to make up a strange body of presumptive evi-
dence, and to convert what at first aeeme<l a wild
vision into something like a reality. Indeed, the
framere of t)ie Popish plot (supposing it to have
been all an invention) muat have felt, in tlie end,
something like the conjuror, who, while attempt-
ing to delude some old women by raising a aluun

»Google

A.n. 1C70-1681] CHAR]

devit, suddenly' saw tlie real lieiid grinning at liia
elbow. Coleman, who bad absconded after the
waraing given to him by his fi-iend Sir Edmoiid-
bury Otnlfrey, had destroyed or removed some of
his papers ; but enoiigli were left and secured to
prove that both he and hie master, the duke,
iiad been engaged in a dangerous correBpoiideiice
with the French king, with that king's confessor,
Father In Chaise, and with the pope's nuncio
sit Brussels; and that they had solicited money
from ha. Chaise at Paris, and front the pope at
Rome, for the purpose of changing religion in
England. A few days after this discovery, the
])opular ferment was increased tenfold by the dis-
appearance of Sir Edmondbury Godfrey, who had
tjikeu the deposition of Ontea, and who was sup-
{losed to have received confidential communica-
tions from Coleman. This magistrate left his
bouse at Westminster on the morning of the 12th
of October, and never returned more. He had
lieen for some time greatly depressed in spirits,
and had entertained apprehensions that he would
be the firat martyr in this plot. As soon as he
was missed, the people unanimously hurried to
the conclusion that be had been trepanned and
murdered by the Papists ; and the Papists, in
self-defence perhaps, but certainly to the injury
of their own cause, gave out that he had run
away for debt— that he bad withdrawn to con-
tract an indecorous marriage— that he had run
away with a harlot— and, at last, that he had
killed himself in^an eiciteroent, working upon an
hereditary disposition to insanity. Hie brothers,
who lived in the city, and his numerous friends,
made search in all directions, but no traces of
him could be found until the evening of the sixth
day, when his body was discovered in a ditch
by Primrose Hill, not far from Old St. Faocras
Church, Tt was pierced through and through
with his own sword, which came some inches out
nt the back, behind the heart. There
blood on his clothes, or about him ; his shoes
were clean, as if he had not walked to that
try spot; his money was in bis pocket, and his
rings were ou his fingers. But there was nothing
aliout his neck, and a mark was all round it
inch broad, which showed he was strangled ; his
breast, also, was marked all over with bruises,
and his neck was broken. "All this," aays Bur-
net, "I saw, for Dr, Lloyd and I went to view
his body; and there were many drops of white
wax ou his breeches, which he never used li'
self; and since only persona of quality or priests
use these lights, this made all people believe in
whose hands he must have been; and it was visi-
ble he was first strangled and then carried to that
|ili>cc, where his sword was run through his dead
body." The coroner sat for two whole days on tlie
body 1 and the finding of the inquest was, that

Sir Edmondbury Godfrey had been barbarously
murdered by some person or persons unknown.
To those who reflected coolly upon all the cir-
cumstances of the case, Godfrey's murder must
appeared then, as it has ever since remained,
a perplexing mystery; but in that universal ex-
ilement few or none were cool, while there were
many who, for selfish or political ends, were re-
solved to fasten the murder upon the Catholics,
and to make it a means of revolutionizing court
and govemraent. The ghastly body was carrieil
from Primrose Hill to the habitation of the de-
ceased, and there exhibited to many thousands,
who shuddered and wept over tJie Protestant
martyr. The funeral was attended by an im-
mense procession, having at their head seventy-
Protestant diviuea in full canonicals. Dr.
Lloyd, the friend of the deceased, preached the
funeral sermon, having "two other thumping
itanding upright in the pulpit, one on
each side of him, to guard him from being killed
while he was preaching by the Papists." ' And,
this time, so widely and wildly had the panic
spread, that all Protestants, clergy or laity, con-
formists or nonconformists, royalists or republi-
of the court paity or of the country party,
considered their lives in danger, and, in many
instances, adopted the most ridiculous precautions
against an unseen enemy.

It was in tliis state of the public mind, when
'' reason could no more be heard than a whisper
in tlie midst of the moatriolent hurricane,"' that
(on the Slst of October) the parliament re-assem-
bled. After explaining to the houae why he had
not yet disbanded the army, and why he was so
much in debt as to require immediately fresh
grants, Charles adverted to the Popish plot, stat-
ing that it was his intention to leave it to be in-
vestigated by the ordinary courts of law. Both
houses, and some of his own ministers, were dis-
satiafied with this light mention of the plot; and
tliey soon made up for the king's coolness by
their own scorching heat They called before
them Titus Dates, who never appeared without
making co{nous additions to hia original disclo-
sures ; they committed the Catholic Lords Staf-
ford, Powis, Petre, Arundel, and Bellaaia to the
Tower; they crammed the commoner prisons
with Papists; they declared "that there hath
been, and atill is, » damnable and hellish plot,
contrived and carried on by the Fo[HBb recusants,
for assassinating the king, for subverting the
government, and for rooting out and destroying
the Protestant religi<ni ;" they proclaimed the
great Titus the saver of the nation, and got bim
a pension of .£1SK)0 o-year. In these, and other
proceedings of the kind, Shaftesbury was in-
defotigable, and his masterly band was visible

> Bofti North. K

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

D MlLITABT.

JD what followed, yielding to the storm, and
never Btru|;gIiDg with it to the risk of his per-
sonal convenieiice and pleasure, Charles com-
manijed his brother to retire from the council,
and ugured the comroons that he would pass
any bills they might present for present security
Bgajnat Popery, or for future security iu the reign
of his successor, provided only they did not im-
peach the regular right of aucceasion. But this
was not euongh, and a bill passed in the com-
mons, to disable Papists from sitting in either
house, reached a third reading in the House of
Lords. The Duke of York, who felt that the
main object of this bill was to disqualify him, as
a preliminary to his exclusion from the throne
on account of his religion, made an earnest appeal
to their lordshi|«, shedding tears as he spoke.
To save him, a proviso was introduced, that the
bill should not extend, in its operation, to his
royal highness;' but, in the House of Oommona,
this saving proviso was carried by a majority of
only tuK) ; and thus, after many attempts, tlie
Catholic peers were excluded from their seats,
which their encceasoTa did not regain till the year
1829.

The trade of a Protestant witness had proved
so profitable to Oates, that it was not likely he
should be left in the monopoly of it. His first
rival, who almost immediately became a partner
with him in the biisioeBs, was William Bedloe,
a worse- couditioned scoundrel than the great
Titus himself — a regular jail-bird, a swindler,
and a convicted thief. In his origin he was a
stable-boy, but he had risen to be a gentleman's
courier; and, still aspiring to higher things, he
had put captain before his name, and travelled on
the Continent, making "a shift to live, or rather
to exist, by his cheats." He had been recently
liberated from Newgate, when the reward of
;£500 was ofTered for the discovery of the Prim-
rose Hill murder. On his first appearance before
the council, Bedloe pretended to no acquaintance
with Gates, and to no knowledge of the main
plot. All that be came to speak to was the mur-
der ; and he afiinned that be had seen the dead
body of Godfrey at Somerset House, where the
queen resided ; that Le Fevre, a Jesuit, had told
him that he and Walsh, another Jesuit, with the

u tha Pipiiit nltiDg-vonMu of

E wan bot f)iT|OtUn. A nobta

0 be Lord Luw, fiiclalmed — "1 wcmld not

hen ; not to much u n Poptah dog or ■ Poplih hllch ; nut w

Hji th(C tha quaan piopOHd (hat all kar Udlei ihunld cut loU
tu ase nhlch ihonlil be InoLnded la ■ Null namber Hut she
wu slUiwed to nUmiB ; "miljriha nainad(*ir kuftnniTi luiyrn-}

assistance of my Lord Bellasitf gentleman, and
of a waiter in the queen's chapel, had smothered
the magistrate between two pillows ; and that,
several nights after the horrible deed, three of
the queen's retainers had removed the hody from
Somerset House, But as Oates, in defiance of
common sense and common decency, had been
allowed a regular crescendo, Bedloe proceeded to
revel iu the same indulgence; and on the very
next morning, when introduced to the House of
Lords, he recollected that the Jesuits he Fevre
and Walsh had spoken of commissions given to
the Lords Powis, Bellasis, and Arundel. The
king exclaimed, "Surely the man has received a
new lesson during the last twenty-tour hours."
Bedloe again denied al! acquaintance with Oatea.
Presently after he changed the two pillows with
which he said Godfrey had been stifled, into n
linen cmvat, as strangling answered better with
the appearances about the neck exhibited by the
dead body. In this fushiou he altered, as well
as added, with the least possible regard to veri-
similitude. His crowning revelation, which wan
a complicated tissue of foreign invasion, conspi-
racy, regicide and murder, enough to frigliten
the ialnnd from its propriety, was delivered on
the 12lh of November. Perhaps Titus Onlee
was afraid of being left behind — perhaps the
conjecture is well founded that, on the failure to
exclude the Duke of York from the House of
Peers, "the drivers" considered it expedient to
prompt the witnesses to lay their accusatioun
higher tlian they had hitherto done, in order that
the king, freed from his present unfruitfid mar-
riage, might have a chance of legitimate children
by another wife. Whatever were the motivea,
Oatea proceeded to accuse the neglected scion of
the house of Bragnnza; he swore that he had
seen a letter wherein Wnkeman stated that tlje
queen had given lier assent to the munler of
her husband; and that he himself had heard
her exclaim, " I will no longer suffer such indig-
nities to my bed ; I am content to join in pro-
curing Ilia death and the propagation of the Ca-
tholic faith.' ' When the witness told this new
tale to the king, he certainly knew that a project
of disaolving the royal marriage had been enter-
tained before by several of the king's ministers,
and he imagined that the king would eagerly
grasp at this fine opportunity: but Charles hail
still some remnant of conscience, or some linger-
ing respect for the opinion of the worhhheheanl
Oates with indignation ; and he told Burnet that,
considering his faultiness towards the queen in
other things, be thought it would be a horrid
thing to abandon her now. Oates, however,
swore to the new story before the council, and
then Bedloe came in to corroborate it The
Duke of Buckingham had once proposed to thu

»Google

CHARLES IL

695

lethtng very like the munler oE liis wife

wilh Biicli an extreme and horrible plot, they
were misdemetiiioui'B of a deep and traitorous
dye. Part of his papera he had destroyed, bat
enough remained to prove that he and hia mas-
ter (the duke) were undeserving of the name and
rights of English men.

It was fully farived then by hiti own lett«r8,
and admitted by his own confeasions, that he bad
received money from France; and It is known
now^ from others of hia letters, that lie had asked
money from the pope. He «aid, on his trial, that
the French money was to bribe members of par-
liament to do the will of Louis, or to reward him-
self for sending secret information of what waa
passing in England. But what was the pope's
money to have been fori He maintained that
the great project for which he had solicited fo-
reign money and co-operation was nothing more
thau to restore the Duke of Vork to hia post
of high-admiral, and to procure a toleration for

kings

— that is, a plan for carrying off the queen to
some plantation in the West Jndies; and Charlea
suspected thnt, in this particulnr matter, in ac-
cusing her majesty, the duke had been more busy
than anyone. He had not courage to declare his
conviction, and to proclaim Oates an impostor and
the mouthpiece of a foul cabal; but he ordered
that hia papera sliould be seized, and that no
peraoii should be admitted to communicate with
him in private. Sut Charles could not prevent
bis appearing at the bar of the House of Com-
mons, where, on the 28th nt November, he raised
his voice as became the solemnity of the matter,
and aaid, " I, Titus Oates, accuae Catherine,
Queen of England, of high treason." The lords,
however, would not join the commons in an ad-
dress for the removal of the queen, and the ac-
cuaiitioD was allowed to drop. At the same time
the upper house, so far from expressing any

doubt as to the main plot, voted an address for | the Catholics; but he failed to convinoe the jury;
the apprehension of all Papists, and received , and we confess that, without sharing in their heat
impeachmenta of high ti-eason against Stafford and prejudices, we share in their incredulity;
and the other four lords in the Tower. The feeling perfectly convinced that Colenum could
king, wherever he durst venture, continued to I not have been working for lesa than the king,
declare that he did not believe a, aingle word who had baigaiued with Louis for the forcible
that Oates and Bedloe had advanced. One of imposition of Popery upon an enslaved nation,
hia profligate courtiers,' who at times spoke un- The attempt to connect Coleman with the aJl^fed
palatable truths, said that his majesty knew a design of murdering the king appears, iu the cool
good deal more about the Popish plot than the eye of reoson, to have been an absolute failure; and
witnesses or any one else; and Charles could I here, as in all the other caaen, Oates and Bedloe
scarcely have foi^otten how far be had gone in i were guilty of blundering perjury. Scrogga,the
plotting with the French king for the Hubveision chief-justice, and a scoundrel, waa as violent and
of the religion and the constitution of his couu- I partial as possible; but bis summing up, in refei^
try. But neither these recollections and coiivic- I ence to the famous passage in the letters, waa
tions, nor any others, could impel that thoroughly acute and convincing; it not only convicted Ctde-
sellish man to make any effort to atop the shed- man, but raised a geueral conviction of the truth
ding of blood, and cool the popular frenzy and : ofaplot — andaplot there was, though not Oates'*
that blood-thii-stitiess which happily never lasted , — a plot where the king would have been the
long with the English people. The first victim ! proper witness, and where the evidence would
was Stayley, the Catholic banker, who had not ' have fallen on hia own head. Coleman had al-
been mentioned by Oates and Bedloe, but who j ways passed for a busy, intriguing, vain, frivol-
was denounced by a nra witness— n destitute
Scotchman — as being guilty of telling a French-
man, in a public tavern or eating-house in Co-
vent Garden, that the king was the greatest
rogue in the world, and that he would kill him
with his own hand. Burnet, who knew Car-
ataira, this witness from Scotland, informed the
lord-chancellor and the attorney-general what a
profligate wretch he was; but Jones, the attorney-
general, took this in ill part, and called it dis-
paraging the king's evidence; and the unfortunate
banker was condemned and executed as a traitor
at Tyburn. The case of Coleman waa tar more
important, and admitted of better proof: and
whether his offences amounted to treason or not,
and whether they were or were not connected
' Tom KlUi|ni>.

but he died like a brave n
all temptations to save hia life by accnsing his
master and his friends, Father Ireland, who was
said to have signed, with fifty other Jesuits, the
great resolution of killing the king, was then
tried, together with Grove and Pickering, who
were said to have undertaken to carry the resolu-
tiou into effect. The jury, upon the perjured and
contradictory evidence of Oates and Bedloe, re-
turned a verdict of guilty ngainat all three.
" Gentlemen," said the brutal Scroggs, "you have
done like very good subjects and very good Chria-
tjans— that is to say, like very good Protestants;
and now, much good may their thirty thousand

I < 3» MM( tram th> Pop*'! DBneiD, diUd Roma, JunuJ 11

I HirrlTi lifter »"<(• It. ' AUm.

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil akd MiUT«iir.

mawegdo-theii]." The victims died prafeiuiug
their innocence; but the received opinion &bout
Jeeniti^m prevented alike any belief and aiiy
pity.

Bedloe had played Becoiic] to OatcH; bnt Oates
could not or would not support Bedloe iu bia ori-
ginal part, and therefore a second witness was
wanted to prove the murder of Sir Ediuoudbury
Godfrey. There waa one Prance, a Catholic and
a silversmith, who frequently worked for the
queen's chapel, and nho had absented himBelf
from bis house for two or three days, about the
time when the murder was committed— at least
so deposed a lodger in his house. U]>on this in-
fonnation Fnuice was seized and carried to Weat-
mineter. Bedloe swore that he waa one of those
whom he had seen about Godfrey's body iu
Somerset House, Franca denied all knowledge
uf the murder, and it was proved that he had left
his house, not at the time, but a week before.
This, however, served liim nothiug; he was
thrown into a dnngeon and loaded with irons —
some say he was tortured. In a few days he con-
fessed he waa concerned iu the murder, and
chai^d Hill, Green, and Berry, three obscure
men, who were employed about Somerset House
ajid the queen's ch^iel there. France said that
tliey bad bad several meetings to a certain ale-
house, where the priests persuaded them it would
be a meritorious action to despatch Godfrey, who
had been a busy man in takingdepoeitions against
them; and that the taking him off would terrify
uthers. Thepeopleof the ale-house confirmed the
factof their meetings, but nothingmore. France
further stated that, the morning before thej
killed Godfrey, Hill went to his house to see
when fas waa going out, and spoke there to his
maid. This maid, upon being examined apart,
stated that, on the morning in question, a person
had really called, and, upon being conducted to
Newgate, she pointed out Hill, who waa mixed
in a crowd of prisoners, as the person that hod
asked for her master the morning before he was
lost. France gave a minut« account of the man-
ner tbe murder was committed, and the body

afterwards conveyed to the si>ot where it wns
found.' Some days after this, he desired to lie
carried to the king. Charles would not see him
alone, but assembled the council, before whom
France denied all that he had formerly sworn,
and said his whole story was a fiction. Yet, as
soon aa he was carried back to prison, he sent the
keeper of Newgate to tbe king, to assure hiui
that all he had sworn was true. But again he
retractedanddeuiedeverytliing. Then Dr. Lloyd,
who bad preached the funeral sermon of the de-
ceased magistrate, was sent to talk with him. At
first France denied everything to tbe divine.
" But," adds Burnet, " Dr. Lloyd said to me that
he was almost dead through the disorder of his
mind and with cold in his body; but, after that
Dr. Lloyd had made a fire, and caused him
to be put iu a bed, and began to discourse the
matter with him, he returned to his confession;
which he did in such a manner, that Lloyd said
to me it was not jiesaible for him to doubt of bis
sincerity iu it." Upon their trial. Green, Hill,
I and Berry brought witnesses to prove that they
: were at home by an early hour on the night when
the murder and the removal of the body were
alleged to have taken place; that no dead body
could have been concealed in the house mentioneil
by Prance; and that no sedan chair had come out
of Somerset House. There was, also, in favour
of the prisoners, a wide and irreconcilable differ-
ence between the depositions of France and thooe
of Bedloe. Hill pleaded that Prance had re-
tracted his first story, and, being thereby per-
jured, waa an incompetent witness; but this waa
explained away by Chief-justice Scruggs. Mra.
Hill, who was in court, mode some sjiirited and
able efforts to save her husband. She asked
France whether he had not been put to the tor-
ture, and upon his answering in the negative, rfie
said " It was rejiorted about the town that he
was tortured. There are several about the court
that heard him cry out." Tlie three prisoners
received sentence of death; and they all three
died at Tyburn with solemn asseveracioDs of their
Berry, who was a Protestant and no

clKlybelonai:

odwlu'i lodciiiKi

hind (tor whmt nwud Iht d<iponc?Lt doCh nut kuow) Hill,
Gnen, Kidlr, thg diponrat, Olnld. uhI Barry, In do ths tUI.
3. Aonrdlngl;, Iha ibavc-iunwd psiwiu tnpuinsd Hir Edmwid-
baiT Inta Soinanel Iloiue, iluut elghl arnlnso'cluck it night i
hnt Ihc tlevonent -Jutli not neU nmember Ih> lUj. *, Tht.
inqMUmuaffsctad thu: Onon gats Ihg <lsi»Mnt aottcnthit
liE ud Oinld lud Ht air EdnuHHltnir; in SI. Clniont'i; and
IIIU limjnl hiiu dvHn tu tlia tlaUigiu, uiidar piataiKa gf
li«tlng ■ tnj batanii Wo fcllowt qiunelling in tha jard.
!-. Whw Uht taid him near tha nlli bf tha qutaii'a itjiblvi,
Uraui itnnilai klm oitb ■ twlMad budliarchiaf ; thin, flndlng
liim (UU Mtm, Kniiic bb Dadl qnlU mud, aud poBcfaad him
•ith Ua kuaa In tlu< opan janl; vhich doa^ tha/ dnitad blm

S On tha MDndaj foUowinf, pra-
D'clockat iil«hl, thabodjiFiiihawn
Irani, ind Oinld, In ■ iwnn Ln tba

oVlook U night, Iha da

. Than

i Kell; u

Id GInl

and raiiiad him u, ll» Hoha: from thanta ha n> rtm-rtftd
Mtitila oD haiwljiicti, belbra Hill, Into Ilia Aaldi, whan thry
Ihruit liii Hurd ILnmgU hli lulj, and out him lulu * diuh. '
Ka1|ih glva in a innllal mliuiin tlia dapuitkia ot Bntlua. It
■aama la ug that 110 liiAjiiilltyofitiamof7, oofaar. nor feby oibar
>r acclilealwhatMB'sr. can be pomUy wada tn

ci]>lAln tlia divcn^Hb

» batHdu Uu l«

• I^IYll

,v Google

>. 1G76

CHARLES II.

697

Oittholic, was r«apited a week, hud might have i
liod hia life if he wonlil have confeased, or have
corroborated the Ule told by Prance and Bedloe.
But nothing could remove the miat that hung
over the eyes of the deluded Protertanta. " A
strong faith iu tlie plot," aaye the beat narrator
of these disgraceful events, " waa now tlie test
of all political merit ; not to lielieve was to be a
(lolitical reprobate; and according to the zeal
wan the cruelty of the timee. The terror ex-
cited by the plot had caused such a thirst of re-
venge that nothing but blood could satiate; every
aiipposed criminal was pre-condemned."'

While these events were iu pn^p-ess,a variety
a! intrigues haateoed the dissolution of tliis I
/onpea parliament. Shaftesbury had resolved to [
iiiin Danby; and Danby had quarrolled with '
Montague, the ambassador at Paris, who knew
nil the dark tiiuiaactiona and the secret treaties
between hia master and Louis XIV. Accident
made this Montague figure as a patriot, but he
was more the slave of the court, and more meanly
corrupt than the minister he attacked. "Tlie
lady," the Duchess of Cleveland, thongb now a
cast-off mistress, retjuned a great power over the
mind of Charles. She bad removed her person
and her vices to Paria, where she intrigued with
various Frenchmen, amorously as well as politi-
cally. Montague, after making love to herself,
made love to her daughter,' and then replied to
lier furious reproaches by threatening to diacloee
Iter intrigues to his royal master. Thereupon the
<luche8s denounced the ambassador, telling King
Charles that Montague was a great slanderer of
royalty and an arrant traitor; tbat he called his

majesty a dull, governable fojl, and the Duke of
York a wilful fool ; tliat he had said that so long
as his majesty was famished with money for hia
pocket and his wenches he might be led by the
nose; and finally, that he had bribed a conjuror
or fortune-teller, in whom his majesty had great
faith, in order to malce the man shape his pre-
dictions according to liis (Montague's) desires
and schemes.' Montague, in spite of the express
orders of his court, came over to England,
jilaced himself in tlie most intimate relations
with Sliafteabury and his jerty, and got himself
returned to parliament as a patriot of the first
water, Danby, the premier, anticipated his at-
tack. On the IDth of December his chancellor of
the exchequer fell upon Montague in tlie Honse
of C/Ommons, accusing liim of holding private
conferences with the pope's nuncio nt Paris.
The house, or ail the patriots in it, attempted to
screen Montague with the privileges of parlia-
ment, but the king bad already seized upon his
papers. The ei-ambasaador, however, soon told
the commons that, thnugh most of the papers
had been seized in an illegal manner, he bad by
good luck saved some very important letters.
The house sent some of their members to bring
the said papers Itefore them, and they were
brought in a small despatch box. Montagus
produced two letters written to him by Danhy,
soliciting money from King Louis in the name
of King Charles. The house voted by a majority
of sixty-three that these letters contained sufR-
cient matter for an impeachment of the prime
minister; and they immediately appointed a com-
mittee, of which Montngiie whs one, to draw np

■■Th« jHi 1079, and the lut HHion of tha puitiinisnt Ihkt

ililtuion ct tha Popiili Plot. For lullcustl II niu niiiLinibl«U;
to ti« c»ll«d, (nd b; nu IMIIU Dcnaiiail lo tin Whig or oppoiittaa
IHrtil. alth«'lDr>Tontotliir1linncnt,th<ni(1l 11 K»l them much
tamponuj •troii(tli. And though II mm ■ mort nnhippj in-
■Un« or the cndulili biguttiia b; hxt^ paHioua >nd miitakm

idiunff °f >^ pvtilent hvm

w thit II jmpotti n* to gBt ill Iha ild and nabl-
' Tbov inten wen ■ddnaied la Filhir li Cliiiia,
Loala XIV., And dlaptajed an [iLlinjato Donnvction
I fbr ths smi potpoae ot mtorliif Vttpsrj. TLsf
tu tha Tsypisjodaf Oats' diBD>iiTT:n>dtboa(h
',d haidJj bkil to Duko a

Jt Id

>U laain iHh. h mUtd
Tall; and trul j

king. 11

poojiLfl of EtifUnd

b^DK. thon;[b not that *hlch

HaHM to lotst'iiot taeni} la th* lanB of

lipcfniin the genenl ipMt of pnalftlim Id

In thii plot lb*

nama, who, irguipc (Mm I

KuTtmnunla. rrotntant, Mihometan, ■
ilert, obtflvpriilnf, afhotlrfl^ In direct o
enabllahsd Prdteatut lellgton Id Ki^r

ke of Yorl

iialnrmlty wrousM l^' a highv pil^h bj Iha vary vilraordliiai
cinniniitaitfM of Hir BdmomlbncT Godfraya death. Rren i
thIi time, mlthon^h we njocl tha liqpqtatlon thramt on 41
CatholUm. and Mpaclally on Ihoaa who inBknd death fiirlhi

birtlR acoonnl for the tied that aaam lo ba iDlhenlialod.''.
n*l\t.m't amMilKliiHud Hiiliiry nf Bnplatid. rri a p. lit.

' Anna Falmer, IjAj Sama, one of bs chiUlnin b;, ot ■
■UDied Id ba b; King Chiiltt

■ Farriii: Ufe ijf Ckaria II. , Appapdix. Hon, khan Ihf
hire no nlltion, bdlsia nnt Id cdbJuk**. Buiap Bama
who hul DO knowledge of thU letter, tel la tha ilDCT of the qnaiT
batiroBn Hontagna iind the Dnchaoa of Cinstand In th; near

AUth

1S«

,v Google

6»S

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil. AND Mil

the utielea. These articles were presentlj dr&wn
aud cftrried up to the lords, and the Ear] of
Danby was impeftchedJD the usual forms. Danby
pleaded the duty of obedience to the king, who
liad dictated the letters. The question whether
he should be coinroitt«d to the Tower sb b traitor
was rejected by the lords, biit only by n very
narrow majority. Besides this tronblesome im-
peachment, Cliarles had many other reasons tor
dissolving this parliament, which he could no
longer manage. lie tlieretore prorogued it on
the 3Clth of December, and dissolved it by pro-
clamation on the 24th of Januarr [1679]. This
Pension Parliament had sat more than seventeeu
years. Shaftesbury had called it the king's wife,
and the dissolution was called a divorce. Charles
had tried to do without it by French means, hut
the price of his baseness did not prove sufficient.
Parliament had by turns curbed Charles and in-
dulged him, though only upon ttonditions and
upon prices paid. "Their intercourse," saysBalph,
"was mutually mercenary, the king chaffered
for a supply, and the party leaders for their
[irice; but, though willing to be bought, they
were afraid to trust him with the purchase-
money. Hence the very means of corruption
failed ; and they began to dread the power they
had bestowed. Hence all their subsequent endea^
vours were to undo their own work, and reduce
their monarch once more to the servant of the
coinmoawealth ; not, however, from honest mo-
tives or by honest means, but by any means in-
discriminately, and as our own barbariam on
the sea-coast hang out lights in tempestuous
times, to mislead the mariner that they may
prey on the wreck." '

But many things have since been brought to
light which this writer knew not, or saw only
obscurely. Not satisfied with adopting the spirit
and using all the resources of faction at home,
the patriots maintained a clandestine intercoui'se
with Barillon the French ambassador, in order
to detach Louis from Cliarles, to crush the Duke
of York and the Popish faction, and to procui-e
the dismissal of Danby and the disbanding of
the standing army. The King of England began
these un-English practices with the old enemy
of the country's religion, liberty, and honour,
in order to establish a despotism; the opposi-
tion in parliament entered upon tliem in order
to preserve freedom; and as their man<euvres
with the French court seem actually to have com-
pelled the reduction of the army, their error or
their crime in engaging in this perilous and dis-
graceful interconrse has been palliated by some
and even timidly justified by others, But there
is woree remaining behind— some of the leaders of

these patriots soiled their handa and tjieir souIb
with French gold] And for this charge we am
admitno possible palliation, unless we take refuge
in a bold denial of the authority and evideuoe
(generally admitt«d as valid ever since Dalrymple
discovered them), upon which the whole charge
rests. "When," says the discoverer, "I found in
the French despatehea Lord Busseu, intriguing
with the court of Versailles, and Algernob Sid-
HKT taking money from it, I felt very nearly the
same shock as if I had seen a son turn his back
in the day of battle." The name of Algernon
Sidney occurs twice in the account of Barillon's
disbursements, and each time the sum of SOO
guineas is placed by the side of it. Hampden,
the grandson of the great ])atriot, is set down as
having received COO guineas, and other patriots
are set down for 500 or for 300 guineas. The
largest amount is stated to have been paid to the
Duke of Buckingham, who is said to have re-
ceived 1000 guineas in one payment.*

IG79 Foreseeingthatthecountryparty
would make an extravagant use of
the Popiith Plot in the election for the new par-
liament, Charles induced his unpopular Popish
brother to retire to Brussels. Notwithstanding
his departure, and the bribery exercised by the
court party, their adversaries had the advantage.
The new parliament met on tlie Oth of Marcli.
The commons immediately renewed the attjuk
upon Danby. The lords resolved the curious
conslitutioiinl question— and their resolution has
in modem times been adopted as a principle —
that the proceedings ou impeachments begun
in one parliament are not affected by a dissolu-
tion, but may be taken up and contiuued in the
succeeding parliament. The king summoned the
commons to Whitehall, where he told them that
the two letters taken out of the despatoh box
were re&Ily written to the Frencji court by his
orders; that he had, therefore, given a full pardon
to Danby, but, at the same time, for certain other
deeds, he had dismissed him from his service.
The commons voted an address to his majesty
ngainst the validity of a pardon liefore trial, and
they called upon the lords to do justice. The
lords, who were devising how to throw aside tlie
capital charge of treason, had issued a warrant
for taking him into custody, but Danby had ali-
Bconded. The commous therefore passed a bill
of attwnder, to take effect on the 16th of April,
if the fallen minister did not previonsly appear
to stand liis trial; and the lonls, after some hesi-
tation, adopted the bill. But on the 10th of April,
Danby surrendered himself, kneeling at the bar
of the lords, who sent him to the Tower. The
popular Lord Ewex, who had not touched tfae
French money, was put at the head of the trea-

' Laii^uiilfl, Mtmoifi, Appendix. ^

»Google

CHARLES 11,

Louis XIV. for a regular penaioD. Sumlerlaad,
now secretary of state, kept himself in favour at
court by condescenaious ami connivances with
Cbarlea's illegitimate son the Duke of Mon-
mouth, and his French raiBlresa the Duchess of
Portsmouth. But, by the advice of Sir William
Temple, Cliarles constituteil a new council of
thirty personn, into which were admitted the
moat daring and moat popular leailers of the
opposition, with the versatile Shaftesbury for
their preeident. Notwithalauding this calculated
kindness, Shaftesbury ur)^d on the

vote the exclusion of the Duke of York from the
throne. The accidental burning of a printing-
house iu Fetter Lane, which made the vulgar
believe that London waa to be consumed again
by the Papists, and the repoi-t that the Duke of
Vork waa about returning from the Continent
with a French fleet and army, hastened the
blow. The commons resolved, nemine coiUradi-
eente, "That the Duke of York being a Papist,
and the hopes of his coming such to the crown,
bad given the greatest countenance to the pre-
sent conspiracies and designs against the kingand
Protestant religion." They also voted addreBsea
requesting his maje^tty to baniah all Papists
twenty miles from London, and to put all sea-
ports, fortresses, and ships into trusty hands; and
they ordereii that their ucret committee should
prepare to bring before them all such letters and
papers as they had iu their custody relating to
the Duke of York, Lord RusHell, though one of
the new council of tiiirty, waa selected to desire
the concurrence of the lord*. The Intter took
time for consideration , The Duke of Monmouth

had been for some time plotting and contriving
to prove a lawful marriage between his mother,
Lucy Walters, and the king, and Shaftesbury
and his party hoped to place the rash young man
on the throne and to govern the kingdom iu his
name. But Charles, though fond of his natural
son, would on no account go into this dangerous
scheme, and as a medium he proposed that pro-
vision should be made by parliament to distin-
guish a Papist from a Protestant successor; that
the authority of a Popish prince should be lim-
ited and circumscribed so as to disable him from
doing barra. The provisions and limitations
which followed, and which were solemnly pro-
pounded to both houses by the chancellor, would
scarcely have left Che shadow of the royal prero-
gative to the Popish successor; but it is clear
that the scheme was thrown into parliament only
to gain time. The commons, however, reject«<l
it at once, and proceeded with their famous
bill of eicclusion, by which the crown was to pass
to the next Protettata heir, aa if the Duke of
York were dead. At the second reading of this
bill (on the 2lBt of May), 207 voted for, and 121
against it. To stay further proceedings the king
prorogued paritament. This sudden measure
took the exclusiouists completely by surprise;
and Shaftesbury was so transported with rage,
that he exclaimed in the House of Lords that ho
would have the heads of those who had been the
king's advisers upon this occasion, Charles, how-
ever, had not courage to act upon the pardon
he had granted, and Danby remained a prisoner
in the Tower for five years. It was in this
atormy sesaion, when some of the worst of pas-
sions made the tempest, that one of the greatest
blessings we enjoy was secured to the nation.
This was the Habsab Corpus Bill, which, after
being agitated and frustrat«d for nearly five
years, waa triumphantly carried, through the
enei-gy and influence of Shaftesbury,

While in England Papists had been sacrificed
to the Popish Plot, in Scotland, a Protestant
archbishop had been sent to a bloody giave.
Sharp, after six years, had caught Mitchell, who
bad fired the pistol into his carriage, and that
enthusiast had been put to death, with some
revolting circumstances. Tliis cruelty and the
persecution against the conveuticlers called up
other aasoaaina. The arch biahop and Duke Lau-
derdale had carried tyranny to its utmost stretch.
An army of wild Highlanders had been let loose
in the west country, to live upon free quarters;
the gentlemen of the country were required to
deliver up their arms upon oath, and to keep do
horse that waa worth uoro than £4; dragoons
were employed to disperse the field meetings,
and many a moor and hill-side was made wet
with the blood of the Covenanters, At one field

»Google

TOO

niSTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cm

cuuventiL-le upwards of a hundred men were sniil
to have been butchered in coid blood. In Fife,
where the archbishop chiefly resided, the perse-
cution waa aa keen aa in the west country, nnd
it produced one more terrible effect. A iiiiall
band oF men, united by their common entbusiaam
and Buffering, resolved t« take the life of one
William Cwmichae!, "acmel bloody man," who,
through the patronage of Sharp, bad obtxjned a
comniitisiou from the council to aeek out and ap-
prehend all uonconformiets in Fife. Ueaded by
Hackatou of Rathillet, the^e men, ou Saluniay,
the 3(1 of Ma^y, iittempt«d to eur|j|-i«e Carmichael
while he waa hunting on the moorsi but they
luiaaed him. lu the luidst of their fury at this
diiulppoiutmeut, n little boy cried out, " There
goes the bishop!* Looking aa the boy poiuLed,
they oaw at a short distance a coach drawn by
six homes. " Truly,* exclaimed the fanatics,
" this is of God I The Lord hnth delivered the
wretch into our hands ! " John Balfour of Kin-
loch put himself in the van, and the nine hor^-
lueii pushed across Magus Muir in pursuit of
Sharp. Aa soou as the archbishop saw thera he
turned to his ilaughter Isabel, who was with
him, aiul said, " The Lord have mercy on me,
my dear child, for I am gone! ' and, the postilion
beuig wounded and the traces cut, Jamea Ruasell
of Kettle soon stood by tlie coach door, roeriug
" Judas, i-ome forth I' The old mnn prayeil fur
that mercy which he had never shown to tlicm
or their brethren ; his daughter knelt on tlie
grounil with him, wept and iniploied, anil tried
to ahteld him with her own person; but they
pulled her away, and Balfour, with one stroke,
laid the archbishop at hia feet. Russell finished
the horrible work by hacking the skull to pieces,
and then ordering the servants to take away
their prieaL A few days after this, the assassins
were in the west country, where the effect of their
presence was soon manifested in a formidable
insurrection. The Covenanters beat off with loss
three troops of horse that were led against them
by the celebrated Graham of Claverhouse. By
the advice of Duke Lauderdale, the army in
Scotland was coucentrated near Edinburgh, and
the king sent down the Duke of Monmouth, who
bad lately married the great Scottish heiress of
Buccleuch. Monmouth with 500(1 regular troops
defeated the iiiaargents at Bothwell Bridge, and
Hamilton Heath, killing S0(> of them, and taking
1201) prisoners.

Throngh personal fears and a selfish policy
Cliarles still permitted the Popish Plot to take
its sanguinary course in England. On tlie evi-
■leuee of Gates, Bedloe, Prance, and one Dug-
dale, who had taken u]) the profitnble trade of a
witness, live Jeauits, with Lnnghome, n famous
Cntholic lawyer, were condemned liy the brutal

Jeffreys, now recorder of London, and tJiey were
all executed. Sir George Wakeman, the qneen't
physician, and three Benedictine friars, wen,
however, acquitted by the Jury, after a trial in
which Gates was convicted of barefaced peiiorr.
Yet, a few weeks after this acquittal, eight priests
and monks were executed in the provincea for
merely exercising their religious functions.

In the month of August Charlee fell sick of a
fever at Windsor ; and the Duke of Yorii, tra-
velling in disguise, came over to look to his in-
terests. The duke found that the king had
recovered, aud that hia son Monmouth was in-
trusted with the command of the army, wu
more than ever popular, and was backed by *
jMwerf ul and intriguing faction. A very violent
quaiTel between the two dukes was the maee-
quence ; and Charles, to presei-ve hia own tran-
quillity, sent his son to Holland and his brother
to Scotland. Monmouth submitted with great
reluctauce ; but his ally, Shaftesbury, eonsuleil
liim with the asaarance that hit temporary exile
would give him the merits of a martyr in tbe
eyes of the people, and that parliament wouhi
insist on his recall. Charles hail counted upon
a pension of 1,000,000 livi-es twota the Freach
king;' but Louis, who had no present occasion
for his services, appended some unpalatable cce-
ditions to this new money-treaty, which miik<1
it to drop. The Duke of York oMmi bim to
make up for the loss of the Frfsch livtcs byn
sirict economy of hia English guinemi, so as b>
be still in a state to do without parliHiuent; anil.
in the month of October,' when parliament *»*
to meet, he prorogue<l it again, and annonnced if
hia council that he would have no session for a
year to come. About the tame time Shaftes-
bury was deprived of the presidency of thecoon-
Gil;'Lord Halifax, Lord Russell, and Su- Wil-
liam Temple retired, and Lord Easex thre« up
the treasury in disgust Essex was aacceolil
by Hyde, one of the sons of Clarendon, and Iho-
ther to the Duke of York's first wife; and Hjde.
with Sunderland and Godolphin, managed a wok
and distracted government. Having lost tli»
king, Louis and Borillon renewed their coddh-
tion with the patriots, fancying that matters in
England would inevitably end in m civil «ar.
We nmat pass lightly over the di^caoefnl fioi'
and intrigues which followed. Mrs. Cellier, *
Catholic midwife, who was empIoye<l by ladies oJ

1

Ch.rl« t»d toW B*r

Ifcui. th

FwK*

fafmiof^

M)rMmt,Uiitlh»»M

dtwtlH

"dei.-WP"

> (ou

-Mr,-,*.

nit pnoicHu buUDM >!■

b.th.

>n|. tboDutfJ

k, th« Fntich Dm^ho.

of rorttniooth.

(■■h

ofMulbmWMikX"'""^

»Google

CHARLES II.

701

(liulity in v&rioiu cspscitiea, anil among otbem,
in distributing alms Among the dlstresaed pri-
Sonera for conacieuce' sake, found among the iu-
niatCB of Newgate a very handaome young man
named Daiigeriieltl. She discharged the debts
for which he was in durance, and introduced
hiia to Lady Powia. Dangertielil, who had led
n tuoBt profligate life, and bad been branded,
whipped, and pilloried as a felon, was not very
nice as to the means by which he testified bia
gratitude or procured a livelihood. He turned
Catholic, and pretended that, by visiting the
coffee-bouses in the city, he had diiicovered a dan-
gerous conspiracy of the Presbyterians against
the king's life and government. I^uly Powia
and the active nudwife introduced him to Lord
Peterborough: and his iordahip conducted him to
the Duke of York, wbojiad lately returned from
Scotland. The duke, who had suffered so much
from Popish plots, turned a ready ear to this Pro-
testant plot, which might bring ruin on his bit-
terest enemies, the Puritans. He gave Danger-
fleld twenty gulueas, and sent him to the king,
who gave him forty. Being thus regularly in-
stalled in his new trade, Dangerfield, a few days
after, gave iiiformfltion that pi^rs and docu-
menU of the most convincing kind would be
found in the poaseaeion of Colonel Maiisel, who
was to be quart«i<-master of the Presbyterian
army. Mansel'a lodgings were searched, and a
bundleof paperswaa found behind his bed. But
the forgery was clumsy; Mamel proved that the
informer had put tlie papers in his room, and
Uangerfield was sent back to Newgate. But the
times were favourable for men of his genius;
and, shifting his ground with alacrity, he de-
clared that he had been induced by the midwife
anil Lady Powia to fabricate a plot for the pur~
pose of covering a real one, conducted, not by
the Presbyterians, but by tbe Catholics ; that
notes and the documents on which the sham plot
was foiuided were concealed iit a meal-tub in
Mrs. Cellier's house. And, npon search there,
the meat-tub was found and the papers in them.
The tables being thus tunieil, the midwife whs
seut to Newgate and Lady Powis to the Tower.
But the grand jury ignored the bill against the
lady, and the midwife was acquitted upon trial
at the Old Bailey.

Alarmed at the long recess, people from nil
parts of the coimtiy began to petition the king
for the speedy meeting of parliament; and seven-
teen peers of the realm joined in this prayer. The
court issued a proclamation against improper
I)etitians, and canvaa'H-d fur oountfr- petitions
with very considerable success.

ItiSli Encouraged by the passionate eK-

pressions of loyalty and attachment

to regular succession set forth in these countei'-

petitions, Charles venlored to recall his brother
from Scotland, and to declare, upon oath, before
the privy council, that Monmouth was illegiti-
mate. To drive that prince away, Shaftesbury
presented the Duke of York to the grand jury of
Middlesex as a Popish recusant; but the judges
baulked him by Instantly discharging the jury.
The Duke of Monmouth, by Shaftesbury's desire,
had returned suddenly and secretly to Loudon,
some time before the Duke of York. It was
midnight when he reached the city; but as soon
as his name was heard he was enthusiastically
welcomed by the people. Chai'les ordered him
to quit the kingdom, but Shaftesbury kept him
where he was ; and, as the king could no longer
help meeting parliament, the Duke of York wa8
sent back to Edinburgh. The session was opened
on the 2lBt of October. The commons instantly
began to wreak their vengeance on the counter-
petitioners, to fondle the old Popish Plot, and to
patronize Dangerfield and the meal-tub plot
Thus encouraged, the felon accused the Duke of
York of having instigated biro not only to frame
his firat story against tbe Presbyterians, but also
to murder the king. Un tha 26th of October
Lord Russell carried a motion that tbe house
should take into consideration how to suppreas
Popery and prevent a Popish encceasor; on theSd
of November the ezclusiou bill against the Dube
of York was introduced, and it was reported on
the 8th. The king (who, however, would have
sold his brother fur £600,000) trieil to divert
the storm, but the bill passed the commons on
the 11th November, and on the Ifitb, Lord Rus-
sell, rscorled by the eaclusionists, carried it to
the upper house. The king was present at the
debate, and personally solicited the peers, who
threw out the bill by a majority of siity-three
to thirty. The commons then turned back to the
Popish Plot, to keep the rancour of the people
alive; and Lord StaffonI, one of the five lords in
tbe Tower, was brought to trial before his peers,
who in such a cose were quite ready to concur with
the comm<ms. The witnesses against him were
Uates, Dugdale, aud Tuberville — a new witness,
as deeply sunk in villany and infamy as either of
the old practitioners. The old earl — he wasiu his
seventieth year— made an excellent defence, and,
by himself and witnesses, proved discrepancies,
flat contradictious, aud perjury in the evidence
of his accusers; yet the lords found him guilty by
a majority of fifty-five to thirty-one.' Charles,

,v Google

702

HISTOEY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

D MlLlT&BV.

who had becD present at the tri&l iu Weslmm-
Bter Hall, and who was convinced that Stafford
was ioDOcent uf the imputed treaaon, )ret signed
the death-warrant with no other mitigation than
that he ahould be simply beheaded. The aberiffs
of London (Bethell and Cornish) questioned whe-
ther the king bad the power to alter the sentence
of the lords, which included or implied all the
horrid formalities of hanging, bowelling, &c.,
and they applied tA the two houses; but Oharlee
was firm; the lords told the sherifle that their
scruples were unnecessary, and that the king's
warrant ought to be obeyed. And, accordingly,
on the S9th of December, the old nobleman was
decapitated upon Tower-hill.

ififll '^^^ House of Commons with-
held the supplies, and assailed the
embarrassed and beggared court with various
bills, for banishing " the most considerable Fa-
pista;" for getting up a Pratestant association
against Popery and a Popish successor; for mak-
ing the raising of money without consent of par-
liament high treason ; for secuiing the regular
meeting of parliament^ and for dismissing cor-
rupt judges. These bills were followed up by a
remonstrance, in which the commons required
his majesty's absent to the exclusion of bis bi-o-
ther. On the 7th of January Charles, by mes-
■Bge, told the commons that he could never con-
sent to the bill of exclusion, which bad been
thrown out by the lords. This message threw
the house into a fury. Lord Russell, bis rela^
tive Lord Cavendish, Montague, the ei-ambaa-
sador, Sir Henry Cupel, Mr. Hampden, Colonel
TituB, and others, moved and carried in a series
of votes that no supply should be granted with-
out the bill for excluding the Duke of York;'
that the Earlof Halifax and other ministers were
promoters of Popery, &c. That night Charles
made up his mind to dissolve this parliament;
and, to take the commons by surprise, he stole into
the House of Lordsat an early hour on the follow-
ing morning. But the commons got notice, and in
one short quarter of an hour they tumultuously
vot«d that those who attempted to defeat the ex-
clusion bill were traitors sold to France ; that
the Papists were the authors of the great fire of
London; that the Duke of Monmouth had been
deprived of his offices through the Duke of Yoik,
and ought to be restored to them ; that the city
of London had merited the thanks of the house ;
that the infliction of the penal laws upon Protes-

wsj ; and 11 itppciiTi oortJLln that, ntidar h«r influAncfl, Iha kln^
■BTflral clinsivu more thin liaLf dippoied to go tiong with th4

, lliitaail ul (hWii1b( tt

tant DisBenleiv was giving encouragement to
Popery. Here the uaher of the black rod knocked
at the door, and summoned them to attend his
majesty in the other house, Charles then pro-
rogued the parliament to the 30tb of the month,
and a few days after dissolved it by proclama-
tion, appointing the new parliament to meet on
the 21st of Mai-ch — not at Weslmiuster but at
Oxford.'

In the short intei'val Charles made some
changes in his cabinet, and opened another ne-
gotiation with the French king for more money.
In the preceding year, in bis irritation at Louis'd
parsimony, he had concluded a treaty with the
Spanish court for the maintenance of the peace of
Nimeguen; but now, in consideration of 2,000,000
iivres for the present year, and 1,300,000 tor
the three following yeats, he engaged to aban-
don Spain and do the will of France.'

Sixteen peers petitioned the king against hold-
ing the parliament at Oxford, a place where the
two houses might be deprived of freedom of de-
bate, and exposed to the swords of the Papists,
who had crept into the ranksof the royal guards.
It appears, indeed, that the popular party feared
the king and his troops, and that the king feared
them and the people : both went to Oxfoixl aa if
they were going to a battle. The king opened the
session iu a confident tone; but it was soon found
that, in the fierce struggle at the elections, the
Whigs bad had tlie better of the Tories (these
terms were now becoming the common designa-
tions of the two great parties), and that the pre-
sent parliament was as resolute as the last to
exclude the Duke of York. On the morning of
the 28th of March, when the parliament was a
week old, the king put the crown and the robeH
of state into a sedan-chair, got into it himself,
hastened piivately to the place where the lords
met, and dissolved this his fifth and last parlia-
ment. And after this step both the sovereign and
the representatives of the people scampered away
from the learned city of Oxford as if they were
retreating from some furious enemy. The Whigs
put forth "A Modest Defence of tlie late Parlia-
ment," and proclaimed everywhere that its dis-
solution was intended as a prelude to the entire
subveraion of the constitution. The Tories, on
the other side, showered congratulatory addreaies
u]>oii the sovereign ; and the clergy and the tw»
universities descanted on the Divine right, anil
declared that it belonged not to subjects either to

lilm out." BoFora thii tha uiiioiuejauf nun* |iaUticJn» had
iKcu tiirnid toainli Holland. In Ui< OHin* uf tlia •LUm Hit
Robert Markhun prnpoHid that, iiinn On dHth of Ihs prcKUl
kinf, tha Frlim of Otuigfl thould nilfl unJoinUjr wjtb JuDVi
hti lUbar In Uw,

> DslT>ni)da, Mmi

't IMiri: BBmbj't Jaurnal.

»Google

AD. 1676-1G81.1

CHARLEJ II

703

trente or censure, but to tionour an<] obey tlieir
king, whose fuDdamentai right of succession no
religion, no law, no fault, no forfeiture, could alter
or diminish.' Shaftesborj was committed lo the
Tower upon n charge of inatigaling inHurrection;
and two Londoners, who had great infliieuce
among the poorer classes of citizens— Stephen
IMlege, a joiner, commonly called, from his zeni
against Poperj-, the " Protestant joiner," and
John Rouse, described as a Wapping follower of
my Lord Shaftesbury— were made fast. The
court expected to get evidence from these poor
men against the "gi'eat driver;" but they were
ilisappointeil. Among the witnesses against them
were Dugdale and others, who had been believed
when they swore away the lives of Papists, but
who now found no credit. The grand jury threw
out the bills of indictment. Eouae escaped; but,
.'13 College was charged with treasons committed
iu Oxfordshire as well as in Middlesex, he was
sent down to trial at the oRsizes in Oxford, " be-
i-avte the inhabitant* of that citi/ mere more in the
inlerettt of the rourt.' And there, upon evidence
which the grand jury at London had rejected,
the \>00T "Protestant joiner" was condemned and
executed as a traitor, for having accused the king
of tyranny and Poperj', and conspired to seize
Ilia person during the sitting of the late parlia-
ment at Oxford. The gowned men there had
scarcely done shouting for this sentence and exe-
cution, wlien the Ijondoners raiwd their shouts
of joy tortile acquittal of the Earl of Shaftesbury.
The court had scrupled at no measure that might
tend to insure his conviction : all the arts which
Shafteshui'y had employed, or was believed to
hare employed, in getting up and supporting the
evidence in the Fopisli Plot, were now turaed
iigainat liiro. But in spite of all the

the court, the grand jury ignored the bill. From
thi^moment Cliarles entertained the most vio-
lent animosity against popular Hheriffs, who could
return popular juries, and began to entertain the
project of depriving the city of ita ciiarter.'

At this critical season, William, Prince of
Orange, proposed to pay a visit to England. Both
Charles and his brother the duke l>elieved tliat
he intended to take a near view of the strength
of the Whig party, and to see whether he cotitd
turn it lo his own advantage. The ditke advised
his brother to decline the visit altogether, for
James already trembled at tlie thought of tiis
son-in-law; but the king, though he gave him
little encouragement, allowed the prince tn come
over. William had several molives and aims,
some aecret, some apparent. He wished to bring
England into a league against Fiimce, arid to in-
duce his uncle Charles to summon a parliament,
without which he knew that his power as an ally
would benull. With or without his uncle'scon-
sent, he made some attempts to mediate between
the king and the popular party; and he fre-
quently visited Lord Russell, the Duke of Mon-
mouth, and others. The prince accepted an in-
vitation to dine in the city, which was sent to
him by the sheriffs, who were so odious at court.
Hia uncle hastened to call him to Windsor, and
in a very few days they parted, Charles promis-
ing to have once more recourse to a parliament
if Louis XIV. should attack the Low Countriea,
and William being convinced that some mighty
convulsion was approaching in IDngland. As
soon as William's back was turned, Charles apo-
logized to the French amltassador for seeing his
nephew, and accepted a bribe of 1,000,000 livres
from France, for allowing Louis to attack Lux-
emburg, one of the keys of the Low Countries.*

»Google

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

CHAPTER IV.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY— a.D. 16

CHARLES II.

CamCToni^ni □( Scotland and theic foandar— Cargill eicammnnicatei the king's niiuiBt«n at Torwood — Dake of
Vork'i goverament in SaotlaDd — The Earl of ArgjU tried and coademnei to death — He eaoapei from priaon

— The Dukeot York ehipwrecked— The Duke of Moamouth'a popularity— He iaaneited — Charleanominatai
hU own ilierifli for the city of London— Their arhitrar; prooeedioga— The EarL of Sliafteibuiy'i intrigaei—
Hii conspiner tor b clisnga in the gDverniaent — Hia death — Kejling'a disclosure of the Rjra Houu Plot — I la
paiiiculara — Suepicloua and contradidorr chanwter o! hi* revelatiauB- Willlsni, Lord Ruiaell, aocused aa one
oftheprineipaloooBpirators— Higarrait^-.Apprehoiiiioiiof hiaaccoTiiplioea — Lord RaaaBll'a trial— Lord Howard
bccomn evidence agunrt hiiu~The Earl o[ Biiei conunita Baioide in the Tower— Strange rnmouTa and aitr-
miwa on the event — Kuasell condeuined to death — Attempla made to procure bit pardon or eacape-rHiieieeu -
tioD — Hie last declaration on the ncaffoU puhliahed — The king allowed to regnlate the goirenunent of the oitj
of London— Algernon Sidney tried upon the Kya Home Plot— Condnot of Jeffreya aa judge on the trial-
Sidnay'i anawera and objeetioni overruled— His lenlence- Hii intrepid coadHct on receiving it— Hit etacu-
tioD— The Ihike of Honmouth restored to the royal favour— Uode of this reconciliation— The duke'a alyect
coufeaaions — Hi* flight to Holland — Hr. Hampden tried and fined aa an atscomplice in the Rye Houae Plot

— Two others executed- Trial of Scottish partieipanta in the plot— They are put to the torture— Duke of
York's cruel government in Scotland — Rise of Jndge JefTreyi in the king'a favour — Deapotic ooaraa of the
king and the Duke of York— Court intrignei and changei in ofGoe— The Princes* Anne married to Prina
Geurije of Denmark — Continuing encroacbmenta of Louia XIV. on the Continent — Declining health of King
Charles— Hit taat iUneie— A Popish priest privately introduced to hia daath-bed— Charlei receives the laat
rites of the P.omiah church— His conduct in bis lact momonia— Death of Charles It.

|HE Duke of York had not been
' in Scotland, whei'e, iii spite of
Ilia religion, wtiich by law excluded
r liim eveu from being a common
r justice of tlie peitce, Le had been
S allowed to exercise the high func-
tioDB of a viceroy, under the title of "King's
Coram iasioner." After their defeat at Bothweii
Bridge, n band of the most entliiisiastic of the
Covenanters rallied round Cameron, a preacher,
from whom they afterwards derived the name
of Camei-oiiiatiH. They wandered from place to
place, or lay hid m the wilds, till the imposition
upon the country of the idolatrous duke seemed
to offer a favourable opportunity of raising the
whole of the indignant i>eople. Then Cameron
came forth, witli his followers, and affiled to the
mavket-crosa of Sanquhar " A Declaration and
Testimony of the true Presbyterian, Anti-pre-
latic, Anti-erantian, and persecuted party in Scot-
land." In this document they renounced and
disowned Charles Stuart, and under the banner
of the Lord Jesus Christ declared war against
him as a tyrant and usurper; and they also dis-
owned and reaented the reception of the Duke
of York, a professed Pagiist, in Scotland, as be-
ing repugnant to their principlea and vows to
the moat high God. Thm nitli a mere hand-
ful of llien, Cameron took the 6eld. He was
Burprised by three troops of dragoons, and died
fighting, with hia brother and t«n of hiafotlowera.
A few were made prisoners; the rest escaped

with Donald Cui'gill, another jireacher, as enthu-
siastic as Cameron, who soon re-appeared at
Torwood, in Stirlingshire, and there, aa a miuiB-
ter of JesuB (Hirist and the true church, pio-
nounced excommunication against Charles II ,
King of Scotland, for hia mocking of God, bis
perjury, adultery. Incest, di-nnkenness, and diaein-
bliug with Ood and man; against James, Duke
of York, for his idolatry; against James, Duke of
Monmouth, foi- his invasion of the Lord's peoj>le
at Botliwell Bridge ; against John, Duke of liiu-
derdaJe, for blasphemy, apostasy, and adultery;
and against the Duke of Rothea, and other min-
isters of the crown, for various heinous offences.
Upon this affront, the government began to exe-
cute the prisoners they had taken iu the affair with
Cameron, and to seize more victims. Donald Car-
gill was taken; and he and four of his disciples,
on the 26th of July [1G81), were condemned for
rebellion and disowning tlie king, and hanged
the next day. As king'a commissioner, James
opened a Scottish parliament in the month of
July, 1681, having previously obtained some
credit by checking tlie corruptions of Lauderdale,
and displacing many of his hungry satellites.
He brought in the scheme of an oath or test to be
taken by all in public stations, who were to swear
to maiutain tlie supremacy of the king and tfa«
doctrine of passive obedience. The celebrated
Fletcher of Soltoun, after opposing the bill with
great spirit and eloquence, moved that the de-
fence of the Protestuit religion should be made

»Google

a part of the tMt The eonii puty, aUviab
waa, could not in detwncj oppose this ; and the
draving np of the clauM wa> committed to Lord
Stair. The clause was allowed to pass in parlia-
ment. To save the Duke of York from that part
of the teat which provided for the Protaetaut re-
ligion, it was propoeed, while the bill was under
debate, that the princes of the blood abonld not
be obliged to take the test at all. Lord Belha-
ven Bb>od np and eaid that the chief uae of the
test was to bind a Popish ancceseor. His lord-
ship was instantl; sent prisoner to the castle hy
the parliamenti and the lord-advocate annonneed
that he would impeach him. Notwithstanding
these high counes, the Earl of Argyle, son to him
who Buffered at the beginning of the reign, and
formerly known as Lord Lran, avowed the same
sentimente as Belhaven; and hia speech was be-
lieved to have sunk the deeper into the mind of
tiie duke, becaoae he waa silent about it. Soon
^ter the duke removed Lord Stair from his high
office of preMdent of the court of seeaion, and
inBtitnt«d prosecutions against him and Fletcher
of SaltouD, which induced them both to flee their
eaantty. To hit Argyle, Jamee called upon him
at the conncil-tabletotake the test. Argyle took
it, but added to his oath thia limitation, "That
he took the test, so far as it was consistent with
itself; and that be meant not to preclude himself,
in a lawful way, from endeavouring to make alter-
ations in church and state, so far as they were
consistent with hia religion and loyalty.' Jamee
permitted thia explanation to pass without re-
mark, with a smiling countenance invited Argyle
to ait beeide him at the council-board, and in the
conrse of the day's business frequently whis-
pered in his ear aa if in friendly confidence, Two
days after, nevertheless, he waa committed to the
castle of Edinburgh, and charged with treason
for making and uttering the limitation. The
captive earl wrote to the duke, hoping that he
haid not deserved hia highness's displeasure, ex-
preanng hia loyalty and obedience to hia majesty
and his royal highness, and begging to know
what satisfaction was expected from him, and
where and how he might live with hia high-
neaa's favour. James left the letter unanswer-
ed, but some of the court cabal sent to inform
Argyle secretly, that no more was designed than
to humble him, decrease his feudal power in
the Westam Highlands, and deprive him of hia
heritable and other offices ; and James himself,
when some at court spoke as if it was intended to
threaten life and fortune, exclaimed, " life and
fortune! God forbid." Nevertheless, on the 12th
of December, Argyle was brought before the
slavish and venal lorda of justjciaiy, who, by a
majority of three to two, found that the offences
chatged against him did really amount to trea-
Voi,. II.

:.ES IT. 705

son and leeing-making; and, with indeoent haste,
sent the case to the assize or jury. By the spe-
cial selection of the court, the Marquis of Mon-
trose, the ginndson of him who bad been hanged
by Argyla and the Covenanters, the hereditary
and implacable enemy of all that bore the name
of Campbell, sat there as chancellor or foreman
of the jury, and delivered the hnrried sentence
of guilty.

After other iniquitous proceedings, and after
a display on the part of the Duke of York of a
savage relentless temper and a total disregard
to the sanctity of a promise, some troops of horse
and a r^ment of foot were marched into Edin-
burgh, and the earl waa informed that he waa to
be brought down from the castle to the tol-
booth, whence prisoners were usually carried to""
execution. Argyle then b^ged to see his daugb- ,
t«r-in-law, the I^dy Sophia Lindsay; disguised
himself as that lady's page, and succeeded in fol-
lowing her out of the castle. He fled to Xiondon,
and after lying therefor sometimein concealment,
he crossed over to Holland, where be found many
friends and countrymen, fugitives like himself,
enjoying the protection of the Prince of Orange.
The Duke of York obtained from the terrified
parliament of Scotland an act declaring it to be
high treason to maintain the lawfulness of ex-
cluding him from the succession, either upon ac-
count of his religion, or upon any other ground
whataoerer. This act he obtained to show the
exclusionista in England that a civil war ranat
be entniled upon the two kingdoma, if they per-
sisted in their scheme or succeeded in barring
him from the English throne.

Charles betrayed more nneasineBa of mind
sn fraternal affection when hia brother waited
upon him at Newmarket. James, to remove his
anxiety, told him that he had no ambition to
He again in the affairs of England, but that
he wished to be intrusted with those of Scotland.
With full liberty to dispose of all power and
places in Scotland as he pleased, the duke took
bis leave of the king, in order to return t« Edin-
burgh by aea. On hia voyage a disastrona acd-
dent had well nigh relieved boUi nations from
alt the fears they entertained on his aceounL
The Olouettter frigate, which carried him and
hia retinue, struck npon a sandbank called the
Lemon and Ore, about twelve leagues from Yar-
mouth. The night was dark and the sea tan
high. Lord 0%ien, the Earl of Roxburgh, Sir
Joseph Donglas, one of the Hydes,who was lieu-
tenant of the Qloaoetter, Sir John Bnry, the cap-
tain, and above 130 more persons, perished ; the
duke and about 100 persons were saved. Among
those who escaped waa Captain CMureAiU (after-
wards I>uke of Marlborou^), for whose preset^
vatiou James is said to have taken great care. So

»Google

706

HISTORY OK ENGLAND.

[Civil ajto Mcumet,

KMii as ibt (lake reached Edinburgh, the reign
of terror waa reoewed. Courta of judicature,
Iiaring their boots and their other tortures, and
differiog veiy little from the InqniBition, were
erected in all the eouthem aad western counties
of Scotlaod.

But the duke, leaving his satellites and initru-
mente behind him, boou returned with his wife
and family to England, being re-appointed lord
high-admiral, and lodged in St. James's. The
Duke of Monmouth, who bad gone abroad upon
the king's promise that James should be kept at
a distance in Scotland, now came again bsatilj
over, in defiance of hia father's commands. He
was received in the citj of London with an en-
thusiastic welcome. As in the year 1679-80
Monmouth aet out with a train and equipage
tittle leas than royal, to make a progreee through
the kingdom : he was followed by a r«tinue of
100 or more persona, all armed and magnificently
accoutred. In Lancashire, Staffordshire, Wor^
cesteishire, and Cheshire he was treated like a
king or heir-apparent The Russells, the Greys,
and many others of the Whig aristocracy, met
him at the head of their tenants at different
places. He entered the different cities and towns
in a speciee of triumph, At liverpool he even
ventured to touch for the kiug's-evil.

All these proceeding* were watched . -""'

by a well -organized body of spies, / ,
who had been collected and di-illed /
through a aeries of years by the in-
famous pander Chiffincb, and who
now sent hourly reports from the
country to court The notorious
Jeffreys waa at this time, " with his
interest on the aide of the Duke of
York," cbief-juatice of Chester. Tak-
ing advantage of some disturbances
which happened at Chester, Jeffreys
got from court a commission of oyer
and terminer, and began to make
use of it against the admirers and
friendaof the Protestant duke. Mon-
mouth himself was arrested at Strat-
ford, where he had accepted an in-
vitation to dine in the public streets
with all the inhabitants eunuiMe. He
submitted quietly, relying upon his tutor Shaf-
tesbury'a salutary provision of habeas corpus ;
and in London he waa immediately admitt^ to
bail. His bail were Lords Russell, Grey, &e.

The king and the court party had long com-
plained that they could have no chance of law
against their opponents so long as the city was
allowed to appoint Whig sheriffs. Ever since
the commencement of the struggle of the parlia-
ment with Charles I., both sheriffs had always
been elected exclusively by the common halL

But now Charles, enconntged by the cotri hi,
yers, insisted that he had in himself the wie rifbt
of nominating the sheriffs, sod he ulMed ul
named Dudley North and Rich, tro mea >)n
were devoted to the prerogative, and unoug ibf
stancheet of Toriee. The citiiena niwd n M
outcry, but they were divided smoug tlicnuelm
by irreconcilable party differences, ud unit ti
their aldermen were entirely devoted to tbeniun
The king's aherifli were left at their po«to to jkV
juries for his majesty, who had no longer (an*
to complain that he could obtain no 'miA:
Alderman Pilkington was sentenced to pyiW
enormous damages of £100,000, for amg ilui
the Duke of York had fired the city at Ibe lira.'
of the great fire, and that he was do> niuj.c:
with his Papists to cut the tliroata oE the dtiniii
Jeffreys, as recorder of London, and liigh id tli'
Duke of York's favour, gave boldness to the T"r<
juries, and dismay to every Whig defeDdwt "r
Whig witness. Every man felt that iaupa*
and headiuga would follow these civil trlmit in
damages. Shafteebury withdrew to hie bm^e -^
Alderagate Street, and called aronnd him all 'i.'
disaffected and desperate people in the titi'. -'ii-
hoping to make good his former hoast— '' tbii t'
would walk the king leisurely out of hiiiloD,*

Frem « print In De Iad»'

nt SUta of LsDdan' (\til\

ions, and make the Duke of York a vigiN'
upon the earth like Cain ;" or, failing io it'-'-
least to manage matters in such a vij th.<'
and hia party should not perish witbont >1 "'
or be led like sheep to the slaughter. Not ^''' '
ing that his Absalom, the Duke of Monni'i
who was alike despicable for intellect snJ '

I Thii fl» cdiflis, nui
irsd AT imrdiued by L

.Mdjiui

tij tlH insra boUl^ V of bit i'f'

»Google

CHARLES II.

707

heart, hwl nireaily mora than half bebrayed him
and the secrete of his partf to the king, he clung
to tiuX paltry reed. At the same time Shaftes-
bury concerted measnres with Lord Russell, Lord
Essex, Bfr. Hampden, and Algernon Sidney.
These patriots nei^er agreed aa to their nltimate
end, nor as to the metuis by which the end was
to be brought about The extremes were repre-
sented by Lord RnsHell and Algernon Sidney,
Russell was for what he called gentle remedies —
for a correction of the constitutional goTemment,
for the utter extirpation of Popery, and for the
establishment of one national church, which, if
not the Preab^terian, wonid have been very like
it: Sidney was undiaguisedly for the entire de-
stmction of royalty, for the re^atabliahment of his
darling commonwealth, and for the widest and
most perfect toleration, to include the Catholics
and all sects and denominations of men, without
any state church or privileged clergy whatever.
Honesty of purpose and a mediocrity of talent
were common to the two; but it is ditKcnlt to
conceive a more infamous scoundrel than Rus-
sell's kinsman. Lord Howard, or than Ford, Lord
Grey, who were both admitted into the confede-
racy. Nor can much he said in favour of other
members of the secret conclave in Aldersgate
Street, who proved either cowards or tnutors to
the cause. Shaftesbury was no fighting man, «nd
yet it appears that he had more boldness and de-
cision than any of them or than all o( them put
together. He recommended the immediate taking
up of arms, and spoke confidently of his " 10,000
brisk boys in the city," who were ready to rise at
the moving of his finger. But the Duke of Mon-
mouth pretended to despise the citizens as com-
pared with the troops, and the other military men
in the confederacy thought it better to wait So
contradictory is the evidence, and so evident is
the falsehood of most of the witnesses, that there
ie scarcely a single part of the story free from
doubt. According, however, to the most gener-
ally received account, it was agreed that the rising
shonld take place simultaneously in town and
country ; that Shaftesbury undertook to raise the
city ; that Monmouth engaged to prevail upon
Lord Macclesfield, Lord Brandon, Lord Delamere,
and ntheni to rise in Cheshire and LancMhire;
that Lord Russell con-esponded with Sir Francis
Drake nnd other disaffected gentlemen in the
went of England ; thai Trenchard engaged to have
alt the inhabitant of his town of Taunton up in
arms; and, lastly, despairing at the returning
want of concert and spirit among his friends, and
dreading to be betrayed either purposely or by
imbecility into the hands of his enemies, Shaftes-
bury threw up the game as lost, and secured his
neck by flight Shaftesbury certfunly retired to
Holland on, or a day or two before, the 19th of

November (1682), and died at Amstenlam, with
rage in his heart and gout in his stomach, about
six weeks after his flight His death Btruck a
damp to the courage of hia party, and raised the
confidence of their opponents. Many resigned
themselves to what seemed to be inevitable
destiny, forsaking altogether the projects and
by-paths which he had chalked out for them as
leading to civil and religious liberty; while some
few, perkapt, rushed into mad and aanguinaiy
schemes of their own devising.'

j„o_ On the 12th of June Josiali Key-
ling, a Salter by trade, and formerly
n flaming Whig, waited upon the Duke of York's
favourite, Lord Dartmouth, and informed hia
lordship that there was a terrible plot afoot in
the city against the king's life. Dartmouth car-
ried t})e informer to Sir Leoline Jenkins, the new
Tory secretary of state. Jenkins suggested that
a second witness woidd be needed, and Keyling
went away, and got his own brother to overhear
a t«rrible conversation between himself and one
Goodeuough, described as being formerly a satel-
lite of my Lord Shaftesbury. Keyling then led
his brother to the secretary at Whitehall, Some
of Keylin^s associates chanced to see him lurking
about the palace, and charged him with a design
to betray thein. He solemnly avowed that be
had no such intention, that he was true to his
party ; and thereupon they let him go unscathed.
He went again to the secretary and made still
more ample disclosnres. Keyling** nam,tive at
this stage was, in subatanoe, this: — About three
months ago, Qoodenongh had proposed to take
away the lives of the king and the Duke of York,
and had succeeded in inducing him (Keyling) to
join in the plot Goodenough had then intro-
dnciid Keyling to several of the conspirators, and
Keyling had engi^ed others himself— as Burton,
a cheesemonger, Thompson, a carver, and Barber,
an instmment-maker — all of Wapping. At a
meeting with Rurobold, the maltster, it was
agreed that the party should go down ia a place
called the Ryo, near Hoddesden, in Hertfordshire,
where Rumbold bad a bouse, and there lie in
wait and cnt off his majesty and his brother on
their return from Newmarket. At a subsequent
meeting they spoke with uncertainty of the time
when the king might choose to come up from
Newmarket They also spoke about providing
blunderbusseH, muskets, pistols, powder, and bul-
lets. The malbiter, however, went down to his
house at Rye' without any of his associates, with-
out arms, or any actual preparation ; and while
he was there the king and duka passed close l^

' Th> Rt< Houa ta inutod on

,v Google

708

HISTOKY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ

D MlUTART.

his house on their way to London nith only five
of the life'guarda. West, a lawyer, after the
king's safe return from Newmarket, proposed
that the thing should be done of a sndden, be-

Thi Bvi Houar.— FroDndnoingbfEdrldga,

tween Windsor and Hampton Court, a road
Thich the royal brothera often travelled, Such
was the informer Josiah Keyling'a/rK disclosure ;
but, following the example of Oates and Bedloe,
he subsequently went into a regular crescendo
movement, iuventiug new horrors, adding entirely
new circnmstaoces, and giving more emphasis
and circumstantiality to the old ones, without
caring much for the coherence of bis narrative.
He swore that the Duke of Monmouth and his
friends bad been concerned in raising money to
be paid to the disaffected citizens of London, and
that Monmouth was to be at the very head of the
insurrection. Keyling's brother, who bad at first
undertaken the buaiueaa of informer with reluct-
ance, improved greatly in the practice of it: he
supported his kinsman in all that he deposed, and
made revelations of bis own. At length the two
brntbers conjointly implicated Lord Russell, de-
posing " that Goodenough had told the conspira-
tors that WUliam Lord Ru*»M would be conoenud
to hit utmott, and use ail hi* irUeretC to aecomplitA
M« dttign of kilting the king and the Buie of
Tori." This was precisely what the Duke of
York most wanted, for he abhorred Russell on
acconnt of the part he had taken in the Popish
Flot and in the exclusion bill, and he feared him
on account of the influence his respectable char-
acter gave bim. A few days after this, a procla-
mation was issued for apprehending Goodenough,
Rumbold, Colonel Eumsey, Walcot, Wade, Nel-

tbrop, Thompson, Burton, and Hone, for high
treason. But John Keyling, the brother of the
original informer, is said to have warned them
all to get out of the way. We are disposed to
believe that their arreet was not desired by the
court at this moment. At all events, instMd of
catching any of the persons named in the proclsr
roation, tbey arrested Barber, the poor instru-
ment-maker, at Wapping, whose name was not
in the proclamation. But this Barber was the
maaoer of man tbey wanted. He waa brought
before the council, but it was rather to make use
of him as a witness than to proceed against him
as a criminal. His evidence, however, varied in
many respects from that of Joeiah Keyling. He
said he never heard that anything was intended
Bgunst the king. Acoording to Mr. Secretary
Jenkins the discovery was etill imperfect, and
more evidence was wanting. Ue had no sooner
made the remark, than one of the lords of the
council declared that a friend of hia had received
overtures from West, the lawyer, one of the con-
spirators, who offered to surrender himself if he
might have hopes of pardon. The lord most
have had the lawyer all ready, for so soon as tJie
poor instrument-maker was sent ont of the coun-
cil-cbamber, this new and fluent witneaa waa
brought in. The lawyer was a man to the court's
content It is said that he had previously con-
certed and arranged hia story with Joaiah Key-
ling; but wbat is more probable is, that he had
been a government spy from the banning, and
bad sought the society of the malcontents in order
to betray them. He deposed that there had been
for many months a plot ; that Ferguson, a Scot-
tish minister and bosom friend of Shaftesbury
and Argyle, was deep in it; that the king waa
aimed at as well as the duke ; and that Sunibold,
of the Rye House, was the most active for the
murder. West afterwards delivered in no fewer
than thirteen other informations, at so many
several times, each deposition going farther than
the preceding one, and filling up gaps in them
after the fashion of the Popish Flot witnesaesL
Soger North, and other writers, who have no
mercy on the perjured Oatea and Bedloe, find
this conduct justifiable and perfectly natural in
West and the other witnesses against the Whig
patriots. Among the addenda made by the fluent
lawyer weie stateraenta upon oath that he had
received money from Ferguson to buy arms ; that
Wildman had money for the same object ; that
Lord Howard of Eacrick had communicated to
him a proj^t for making an insurrection ; that
Lord Russell hud presented to the conspirators
the fundamentals of a new constitution to be
adopted after the king's death; that Algenum
Sidney and Wildman held a close correipondenoe
with the Covenanters and traitora in Scotland ;

»Google

-16650

CHARLES II.

that the conspirators had made up their minda
to kill the loyal lord-mayor, the two Tory aberiRs,
most of the judges, and Bome other men, and to
ttaff lAeir tkint and bang them up iii Guildhail,
Westminster Hall, the Parliament House, &c. ;
and that he (the deponent) and Rumsey had at
last felt their hearts relent, and a strong inclina-
tion within them to turn informer*. Beinj; thus
introduced by lawyer West, Rumsey, an old sol-
dier of fortune, surrendered himself, and desired
that HrBt he might b« permitted to speak privately
with the king and the Duke of York. After this
private interview, in which it appeara to have
been arranged that he was not to accuse the Duke
of Monmouth of any capital offence, Rumsey bore
evidence against the late Lord Shaftesbury, Lord
Russell, Trenchard, and most of the other per-
sons already named by Keyling and West But
Colonel Bunjsey, as well as those two witnesses,
had his recollections and am plifi cations to get np
at leisure. According to bis " further informa-
tion," the most treasonable discourses had been
held, and desperate and traitorous plans adopted,
in the house of one Shepherd, a wiue-merchant,
dwelling near Lombard Street, and that he him-
self had there met Lord Russell, Lord Orey, Fer-
guson, and others. Rumsey, in the greater part
of this story, prevaricated most pilifnlly; but
Shepherd was brought in to support his crazy
evidence, and to swear expressly " offaimt the
grantUa of the parli/." Yet Shepherd prevari-
cated as much as Rumsey. But as he swore point-
blank and swore as much as the council wished,
he was prizedAS one of the beat witnesses. A pro-
clamation was now issued for the apprehension of
Monmouth, Russell, Grey, Armstrong, Walcot,
and others. Monmouth immediately absconded
showing in this as in all other cases a delicate re-
gard for his own personal safety or comfort, and an
ungenerous disregard for the safety of his friends.
Lord Russell was taken into custody in his own
house by a messenger. He was found neither pre-
paring for flight nor hiding himself, but sitting
tranquilly in his study. It is said that as soon bb
he was in custody he despaired of his life, know-
ing how obnoxious he was to the vindictive Duke
of York. He was hurried before the king and
council There every question put to him was a
snare. After this examination he was committed
to the Tower. Upon entering the dismal gate he
said that the devil was loose ; that he was sworn
against, and that they would have his life. Lord
Grey next appeared before the council, bnt in-
stead of being sent forthwith to the Tower, he
was permitted to lie for the night in the sergeant's
house, and the sergeant being made drunk, or
pretending to be so, he walked out of the house,
took boat on the Thames, and found a vessel that
cari'ied him to Holland.

Lord Howard of Escrick was captured in his
house at Kuightsbridge. He was found hid in a
chimney, and few chimney-sweeps would have
behaved so baselyashedid. He trembled, sobbed,
and wept; and when carried before the council
he ofiend to confess in private to the king and
the Duke of York. The secret audience was
granted to the kneeling, puling caitiff, who would
have swom away the lives of all his kindred to
save his own; and as soon as might be after this
audience, not only Algernon Sidney and Hamp-
den, but also the Earl of Essex were clapped up
in the Tower. Sasex might have escaped; but
out of tendemesB for his friend Russell he would
not stir, lest his flight should incline the jury
unfavourably. He was firm before the council,
but this was followed by a confusion of manner,
and in the Tower he fell under great depressiou
of spirits. He was constitutionally a melancholy
man, and the critical tituatioa of himself and bis
best frienda, and the closeness of his prison, and
the memories about it, were sufficient to convert
even a gay and sanguine man into a sad and
hopeless one. He was confined in the same cham-
ber or cell from which his father, the loyal Lord
Capei, had been led to execution in 1&19 by the
Commonwealth nien, and in which his wife's
grandfather, the Earl of Northumberland, had
either committed suicide or been murdered in
the days of Elizabeth. Algernon Sidney pre-
served a sort of Roman fortitude aud self-coUec-
tcdness both in the Council-chamber and in the
Tower; he told Charles and his ministers that he
would not answer their ensnaring questions; that
they must seek evidence against him from some
other man. Walcot, who had played away his
life through a returning love of honour and tail
fame; Rouse, who had only been saved by the
Whig sheriffs and the Iioudon jury from being
hanged like his friend College; and Hone, a
joiner, were brought to trial; and upon the ela-
borated, yet still contradictory evidence of Rum-
sey, Keyling, and West, they were condemned
andeiecuted as traitors. After theirtrial itwas
resolved to proceed with that of Lord Runell;
and a Tory jury was selected by the Tory sheri&
and swom, notwithstanding strong legal objec-
tions. To have tried Russell and Sidney to-
gether, or to have brought all the prisoner* to
one trial, would not have suited the ministers
and men who were now distorting the law as
they chose. No time was loet. Roasell woa
brought to the Old Bailey bar on the 13th of
July, for conspiring the death of the king, and
consulting how to levy war against him. Be de-
sired that his trial might be postponed for a few
hours, to allow time for the arrival of some
necessary witnesses. " You," cried the attorney-
general, " would not have allowed the king an

»Google

710

HISTOEY OF ENGLAND,

[CiTiL AKD MiuTAitr.

houT'a notice for saving bis life. The trial must
proceed." Wishing to ha.ve notes of the evidence
taken, he asked whether he might have some-
body to write for him. The Chief-justice Pern-
berton said, "Any of jour servants shall assist
you in writing anythiDg yon please," "My
lord," said Russell, " my wife is het« to do it."
And when the spectators turned their eyes and
beheld the devoted lady, the daughter of the vir-
tuous Ear! of Southampton, rising up to asaiat
her lord in this his uttermost distress, a thrill of
anguish ran through the assembly. Bumsey
aware that Eussell had been present at Shep-
herd's, the wine-merchant, when the grandees
were proposing to surprise the Icing's guards, &c

Shepherd swore like Rumsey. The third and
fatal witness was the infamoos Howard. Though
bis own relative, Russell had always regarded this
■nan with distmst and aversion; but the scoun-
drel had captivated Algernon Sidney with en-
thusiastic professions of republicanism; Sidney
had introduced him to Lord Ensex; and, through
the reprssentatious of Essex and Sidney, Rus-
sell's objections had been removed, and Howard
bad been admitted to those secret meetingu which
Shaftesbury had firat called together. Now, as
a witness at the bar of the Old Bailey, the ignoble
Howard began t« improve upon the deposition
he had made before the king anil council ; adding
fresh circumstances, or speaking confidently of
what he had before expressed doubtiugly; but he
had not proceeded far when his colour changed,
and his voice faltered so much that the jury said
they could not hear his words. Then Howard,
much agitated, announced the horrible fact.
'■ There is," said he, " an uubap|>y accident which

has sunk ray voice: I was but just now acquainted
with the fate of my Lord Essex." Instantly a
muTTnur ran through the court that the noble
£raex had oommitted suicide. At an early hour
on this same morning, the king and the Duke of
Yoric took & fancy to visit the Tower, where, it
is said, they had. not been for several years be-
fore. It is represented by some narrators of these
events, that they were led thither by an unmanly
desire of seeing Iiord Russell pass to his certain
death-sentence; but, whatever was their motive,
thither they went : and after staying there some
time, as they were leaving the Tower to go back
to their barge, a cry followed thein that my Lord
Essex had killed himself. According to theTories,
the news of the dismal event came into the court
of justice Bs the air at the doors, and neither
direct norindirectnae of it was made to affect the
prisoner at the bar: but the Whigs maint^ed
that the news was studiously brought in at a
fixed moment; and there is unquestionable evi-
dence to prove that the lawyera made all the use
they could of the incident to the great prejudice
of the prisoner. The attorney-general said it was
quite clear that Essex had murdered himself to
escape the bands of justice; and Jeffreys, who
was one of the counsel for the crown, said more
words to the same effect. This was infamous
enough: and this was and is certain: but the
Whigs made a bold plunge into the depths of un-
certainty, and at once whispered that the Earl of
Essex bad been foully murdered by the procure-
ment of the king and the Duke of York; and, in
defiance of the exertions made ou the other ude,
this belief gained ground among the people. It
appears to us that the strongest presumptive evi-
dence that the king and the duke had nothing t«
do with the murder, is to be found in the fact of
their both being in the Tower when Essex died.
If they could have resorted to such an assassina-
tion, they would hardly have chosen to be on the
very spot when the deed was done. There are,
however, circumstances of mystery in the horrible
story, and these have not been cleared up by the
royalist Evelyn, who says: — "The astonishing
news was brought to ua of the Earl of Essex
having cut bis throat, having been but three days
a prisoner in the Tower, and this happening on
the very day and instant that Lord Russell was
on bis trial and had sentence of death. This
accident exceedingly amaeed me, my Lord Essex
being so well known by me to be a person of such
sober and religious deportment, so well at his
ease, and so much obliged to the king. It is cer-
tain the king and duke were at the Tower, and
passed by his window about the same time this
morning when my lord, asking for a razor, ahut
himself into a closet, and perpetrated the horrid
act. Yet it was wondered br some how it WAa

»Google

A.D. 1681—1685.1

CHARLES 11.

711

pMBible he should do it in the manner he waa
foand, for the wound was ao deep and wide, that,
being cut through the gullet, windpipe, and both
the jagulara, it reached to the verj Tertebne of
the neck, so that the head held to it by a very
little akin, aa it were; the gapping, too, of the
razor, and cutting hia own tiogeis, was a little
atrange: but more, that, having passed the ju-
giilara, he should have strength to proceed ao far,
that an executioner could hardlj bare dona more
with an aze. There were odd reflections on it.
Tliia fatal news, coming to Hick's Hall upon
the ai-ticle of my Lord Buaaell'a trial, waa said to
have bad no little influence on the jury, and all
the bench, to bla prejudice. Others said that be
had himself, on some occasiouB, hinted that, in
cnse be should be in danger at having bis life
taken from him by any public miafortune, those
who thirsted for his estates should misa of their
aim; and that he should speak favonrably of
that Earl of Northumberland and some othera
who made away with themselves; but these are
discouraes so unlike his sober and prudent con-
verHation, tliat I have no inclination to credit
tbem. What might instigate him to this devil-
isli fact I am unable to conjecture. My Lord
Clarendon, his brother-in-law, who waa withbim
but the day before, assured me he waa then very
cheerful, and declared it to be the effect of his
innocence and loyalty; and most people believe
that hit majesty had no severe intentions against
him, thmigh he mu ahoffether ituumrable at to
ImtiI Ruaedl and lome of the real'

But to return to Lord BuBsell. So soon as he
had recovered from the abock his nerves had
sustained, Howard went on to awear away the
life of hie kinsman. The prisoner acknowledged
tliat he had been present at some political meet-
ings in the city, but insisted tbOit the company
had met npon no fixed design. West, the fluent
lawyer, was called upon to satisfy the court that
Lord Russell was certainly the lord the conspi-
rators had most depended upon. The prisoner
objected to the witnesses, that tkeif taore agaitut
him totave their awn lives. Before the jury with-
drew, Russell said to them, "Gentlemen, J am
now in your bands eternally— my honour, my
life, my all; and I hope the heats and animosities
that are among you will not ao bias you as to
inakeyou inclined t^i find an innocent man guilty.
I call heaven and earth to witness, that I never
had a design against the king's life. I am in
yonr hands, so God direct you." But the jury
soon brought in a verdict of guilty; and Treby,
recorder of London, who bad formerly been an
exclusionist, and who had been deeply engaged
with Lord Shaftesbury in most of the city schemes
and plots, pronounced the horrible sentence of
deatli for high treason.

Many efibrta were made to obtain the royal
pardon; but the heart of Charles was so set upon
Russell's destruction, that he was proof even to
.£100,000, which were ofiered to him by his lord-
ship's father, the Duke of Bedford, through the
French mistress, the Duchess of Portsmouth.
After this, nothing, surely, waa to be hoped from
prayers, petitions, and letters. Yet Bussell him-
self petitioned, by letter, both the king and the
Duke of York. When there remained no other
chance, bis friend, Lord Cavendish, offered to
manage his escape by changing clothes, and re-
maining, at all hazards to himself, in hia place;
but Russell nobly refused, and prepared to die
with Christian piety. He considered himself a
much happier man than Howard, who had pur-
chaaed a few years of life and ignominy by be-
traying bis friends; and, when he had taken
leave of hia high-minded wife, be said, "Now
the bittemeaa of death is past." The morning
after tbis parting— on tbe Slst of July — he waa
led to tbe scaffold, which waa not erected upon
Tower-hill, but in Lincoln's Inn Fields, "in
order that the citizens might be humbled by the
spectacle of their once triumphant leader carried
in his coach to death through the city." Id pase-
ing, he looked at Southampton House, the pater-
nal home of his lady; and tbe sight brought a
few tears to his eyee. He was attended by l^llot-
son and Buruet; and while Tillotaon prayed, Bur-
net held tbe pen to record his lordship's last
words. These words were few, and were ad-
dressed to Sheriff Rich, who superintended the
execution, though he had once been an anti-cour-
tier, and had voted with Bussell for the exclu-
sion. His lordship said, that, because he had
never loved much speaking, and could not expect
now to be well heard, be bad set down in a paper
(which he handed to the sheriff) all that he
thought properto leave behind him. Heprayed,
embraced the two divines, and, without any visi-
ble change of countenance, litid himself down
and fitted his neck to the block. Like Lord Staf-
ford, be refused to give tbe sign to the execu-
tioner, who chose bis own moment, and severed
bis neck with two or three clumsy strokes. Tbe
execution was scarcely over when every corner of
the town rang with Russell's last paper,' which
he had delivered to tbe sheriff in manuscript, but
which was already in print and in circulation
through the industry of Lady Busaell, and pn-
bably of Burnet, who is more than suspected of
having bad a principal band in its composition.
His lordship said, or was made to say (for our-
selves, we believe all that ia contained in the first
clauses to have been his real sentiments), that he

»Google

712

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[C.v

0 MlUTART.

had lived and now died & true and ainoere Pro-
testant, and in the communion of the Church of
Enghmd, "though he could never yet comply
vith, or rise up to all the heights of many peo-
ple;" that, for Popery, he looked upon it as an
idolatrous and bloody religion, and tlierefoi-e
thought himself hound, in his Htation, to do all
be could against it; that he had foreseen all along
tlist this would procure him great and powerful
enemies; that he had been for some time expect-
ing the wont, and now blessed Qod he was to
fall by the axe, and not by the fiery trial ; that,
whatever had been his apprehenBionB of Popery,
he never had a. thought of doing anything against
it basely or inhumanly, or that did not consist
with the Christian religion, and the laws and
liberties of the kingdom; that he appealed to
Almighty God for the truth of this; that be had
ever proceeded sincerely without passion, private
ends, or malice ; that he had always loved his
country much more than his life, and had always
looked upon the constitution as one of the best
governments in the world ; and that he would
have sufiered any extremity rather than have
consented to any design to take the king's life-
After praying for the king, and wiahing that he
might be indeed the defender of the faith, the
paper went on to explain liia conduct in regard
to the Popish Plot — the darkest stain on the
cbarscter of Russell. Wo believe his assertions;
but that belief must he coupled with, and made
dependent upon, rather a low estimate of his in-
tellect and penetration. "As for the share I bad
in the prosecution of the Popish Plot, I take Ood
to witness that I proceeded in it in the sincerity
of my heart, being then real\y convinced, as I
am atill, that there waa a conspiracy against the
king, the nation, and the Protestant religion.
And I likewise profess that I never knew any-
thing, either directly or indirectly, of any under-
hand practice with the witnesses, which I look
upon aa so horrid a thing that I could never have
endured it; for, I thank God, falsehood and cruelty
-were never in my nature." He then proceeded
to justify his conduct about tbe bill of exclusion.
After jHvying God not to lay bis death to tbe
charge of tbe king's council, or tbe jndges, sheriffB,
or jury, and expressing pity for the witnesses, be
added, "From the IJme of choosing the Bheriffa,
I concluded the heats would produce something
of this kind; and I am not much surprised to find
it fall upon me.' '

On tbe same memorable Slst of July, when
RoBsell perished and this paper was printed, tbe
university of Oxford, which, with a saving of

■ It oufht DOTtr to b« forgott«n that RumcII, though ite \d^
tiJfiud with Iho Pmiuih Dmirt. i> naTor chargHt wtth takln(
Fnnch noDer, Ulu Sidnaf. Burillon, IndHd. talLihlimutar
t]iftt bs duM PDt nvk* hia bus pn>p«ali to hu lonklup.

the established religion, would have sanctioned
eveiy stretch of arbitrary power, published its
decree in support of passive obedience and of tbe
right of kings to govern wrong without resistance
or challenge from tbeir suffering subjects.

In Trinity Term, when the court was making
as much of the Rye House Plot as ever its op-
ponents had made of tbe Popish Plot, judgment
was given against the city of London; and, in
tbe following month of September, the king was
allowed to regulate the government of the city,
changing the old aldermen and officers, and ap-
pointing new ones at his pleasure. Eight alder-
men were deprived at once of the honours they
had received by election of their fellow-citizens,
and "werelill turned out for lying under the hor-
rid suspicion of loving their country better than
king." On the 7th of September Algernon Sid-
ney was brought to trial at the bar of tbe King's

Aloekron Sidnit. — Fran IaIkii'i Pintnll*.

Bench, where Jeffreys now presided as chief-
justice. This bravo in law mounted the Udder
of promotion by wonderfully rapid strides; bnt
he seemed made for despotism and its particular
exigencies at that time, and he had nerve and
face to "go thorough," to undertake snd drive to
a conclusion of some sort any work tbe court
might wish to be done by law. He was, in fact,
as unflinching, aa confident, and, in outward
bearing, aa heroic, in the performance of villainy
and in breaking tbe laws as was ever upright
judge in upholding them. He waa as bold
with the law-books and statutes as Charles's
other personal favourite, Colonel Blood, waa with
pistols, and daggers, and dark-Ian terns.' Hence

ooidiuf to Bunwt, ha " *u dnink aiar; dv ~ Rofar Sorih

»Google

CHARLES II.

713

Jeffreys was prized and promoted. The nerve of
that otherwise weak republican, Algernon Sid-
ney, waa well kuowo ; and it was fitting to op-
pofle to him a man with nerve equal to his own.
Ab in Lord RuBsell'a case, Rumacy, Keyliug,and
West gave little more than a rambling hearsay
evidence, and the death-lbnista were left to be
dealt by the baud of the noble Howard, whom
Sidney had taJceu to his heart aa a pure republi-
can, and had forced upon the unwilling confi-
dence of Eiises and RuBsell. When Howard hod
stated what he knew of Sidney's conduct at the
meetings at Shepherd'^, and hia engaging an
agent to deal with the disaffected in Scotland, the
prisoner was demanded whether he would ask
Loid Howard any questiona. "No!" said he,
with withering scorn, " I have no questions to
ask such aa him !' Several other witnesses proved
words apoken, and that the prisoner had cor'
resjxtnded with some gentleman in Scotland; but,
with Che exception oC Lord Howard, there was
no living witness that both could and would
swear to overt acta of treason. In no sense was
this single witness enough to take awnj life for
treason; and, to make up weight, the attorney
said— "Now to show that while hia emissary
was in Scotland, at the tame time the prisoner
(which will be another overt act of treason) was
writing a treasonable pamphlet;' and he then
called the clerk of the council to prove that when
he was sent to seize Sidney's papers, be had
found the said pamphlet lying npon his table.
Sidney urged that the mere comparison of band-
wriling was not to be trusted, and that some
men's hands might be very much alike. But
thi^ objection was overruled; and then, to prove
the trea.tonableness of the manuscript, a selected
section was read iu court, and, by the torture of
inueitdoes, was made to apply to the particular
reign of Cliarles II., though it might have an-
swered equally well for that of Henry VIII.
Jeffreys surjiassed himself, all the crown lawyers
were bolder and more virulent than they had
been, and the trial of Algernon Sidney was by
many degrees more lawless than that of Lord
Russell. My Loi-d Chief -justice Jeffreys told
tlie Tory juiythat the evidence before them was
quite euSicient, that tcribere at agtre; and the
jury brought in a verdict of guilty.

On the Seth of November, the prisoner was
brought up to receive judgment. It was not the
usage for the chief-juslice to pass sentence ; but

luignaga ■• ■honUl nc

on this occaaion Jeffreys, who knew that there
would be a stir in court, charged himself with
the office. Sidney said, iu arrest of judgment,
that he conceived that he had had no trial, for
some of his jury were not freeholdere; that there
was a material defect in the indictment, which
made it absolutely void, for the king was de-
prived of a title in it, the words" Defender of the
Faith' being left out. The chief -justice ei-
claimed, "In that you. would deprive the king of
his life, that is in very full, I think." The pri-
soner rejoined that, in a case of life and death,
such things were not to be ovemiied to easily.
"Mr. Sidney," roared Jeffreys, " we very well
understand our duty ; we don't need be told
by you what our duty is: we tell you nothing
but law; the treason is well laid." The prisoner
again insisted that the papers had not been
proved upon him— that there was no treason in
that manuscript written long ago. The chief-
justice insisted that there was scarcely a line in
the book but what was treason. The prisoner
said, " My lord, there is one person I did not
know where to find, but everybody knows where
to find him now; I tntan, the Duke of Monmouth;
let him be sent for, and if ha will aay there was
ever any such plot, I will acknowledge whatever
you please." "That is over," cried Jeffreys; "you
have been tried for this fact: we must not send
for the Duke of Monmouth," One Mr, Bamp-
field, a barrister, interposed, modestly and tim-
idly, as amicuM cuna, and humbly hoped his
lordship would not proceed te judgment while
there was so material a defect in the indictment.
"There remains nothing for the court to do,"
bellowed Jefiivys, " but to pass sentence." " I
must appeal to God and the world I am not
heard," said Sidney. "Appeal to whom you will,"
said Jeffrays, who then, after reproaching the
prisoner with ingratitude to the king, and cen-
suring the pamphlet anew, sonorously pronounced
the horrible words. As soon as he had finished,
the prisoner said, with a loud and firm voice,
" Then, 0 Cod ! O God ! I beseech thee to sanc-
tify my sufferings, and impute not my blood to
the country or the city: let no Inquisition be made
for it; but, if any day the shedding of blood that
is innocent must be revenged, let the weight of it
full only on those that maliciously persecute me
for righteousness' sake." The chief -justice, half
enraged and half confounded, thought himself
obliged to put up his prayer also, which he did
in these words:—" I pray God to work in you a
temper fit to go unto the other world, for I see
yon are not fit for this." "My lord," replied
Sidney, stretehing out his own, "feel my pulse,
and see if I am disordered. I bless God 1 never
was in better temper than I am now." Sidney
afterwards sent a paper te the king by Lord

186

,v Google

714

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil ard Miutakt.

Halifmc — still a faToorite minister — who waa his
nepliew by marriage. In this paper, which haB
been called a petition for justice rathar thau
mercy, he gave a brief account of hia trial, ex-
plained all its in-egularities, and aaked for ad~
miffiion into the king's presence. Charles replied
to the petition by signing the death-warrant.
In consideration to his nobie family, the axe wna
snbetituted for the halter; and, on the Bth of
December, he mounted the scafibld on Tower-
hill with the air of one who came to trinmpb.
Dot to suffer. His parting words were few, his
prayers short; and, having placed a paper in the
handsof the sheriff as hislsst legacy to the world
and last testimony to the good old cauae, he laid
hia head upon the block, and was happily de-
spatched at one blow. Thus perished the last
of the Commonwealth men, who would certainly
have tried again, at all hazards, that great ex-
periment in government which had utterly failed
when tried by men who were immeasurably his
Buperiora, and which would have failed again,
and for the some reaaon, namely, that the people
of England were not fitted for any such systeni.
If Algernon Sidney hod perished under a les«
infamous government, and in a less base and
slavish time, bis fate would now excite infinitely
less interest.

Before Algernon Sidney was put upon biatrial
his Grace of Monmouth was taken back to hia
father's lieart. This was not entirely owing to
Charles's fondness. The Lord Halifax, seeing that
thinga were running much further than suited
hia particular intereata and politics, and that,
from tbegrowing indolence of the king, the Duke
of York was acquiring immense influence, re-
solved, st all hazards, to bring the Duke of Mon-
mouth again into favour. Halifax, accordingly,
induced Monmouth, who had aljsconded, to sign
some penitential letters to the king, which he
(Halifax) had written foi- him. Charles admit-
ted the penitent to a private audience on the
23th of October, and received him pretty well.
On the 4th of November the king became "very
kind,* and gave Monmouth directions how to
manage his business and to make his peace with
the Duke of York, Nothing would be required
of him but what was aafe and honourable, only
something must be done lo blind bis royal high-
ness. Halifax, who went and came between the
king and Monmouth, drew np a letter of ac-
knowledgment and confession. At first Mon-
montli heailiited, but when Halifax assured him
that the origiiwl should he deposited in no hands
but the king's, and that the Dukeot York should
only have a copy, he signed the confession. On
the 25th of November the Duke of Monmouth
surrendered to Mr. Secretary Jenkins, and de-
sired to speak alone with the king and Dnke

of York. Dp to this moment the n^otiotion
had been carried on veryseeretly, and, as Sidney
remarked on being brought up to receive judg-
ment, nobody hod knofvn where Monmouth was.
The Duke of York was therefore taken by sur-
prise when Monmouth threw himself at the
king's feet, and then confessed himself faulty to
his highness, and asked his pardon also. There
is no possibility of ascertaining what really passed
in that strange scene ; but it appears that Mon-
mouth made another ample confession, and that
he solemnly denied any knowledge of any design
in any of the conspirators to assassinate either the
king or the Duke of York. A day or two after
this scene his majesty declared, in full council,
that the Duke of Monmouth had made a full de-
claration about the late conspiracy, hod expressed
extraordinary contrition, and had made a parti-
cular sLihmission to his royal highness bis bro-
ther, at whose prayer a full pardon had been
granted. And a paragraph was inserted in the
Qiiiettf, which proclaimed in other words that
Monmouth was a mean scoundrel, like Howard,
that had purchased his own safety by sacinficing
his friends. Monmouth waa enraged at this
paragraph, which probably came too near the
truth; but he did nothing, said nothing, until his
pardon had passed the seal. Then he set his
friends to work, who declared in ail directions
that the paragraph in the Oatetle was utterly
false. When his pardon was passed, it wss in-
serted in the Oazeite that it had l)een given on
his coufessing the late plot; and Charles, who
cared not about having broken his promise not
to make any public use of the confession, waa
incensed at Monmouth's denials. It was pro-
posed to bring Monmouth before the council,
and cause him to make some regular declaration,
which might he entered there, and afterwards
poblished ; but Charlea rejected this acbeme, say-
ing that lie waa such a blockhead that there would
be mistakes, and that ha would not speak as he
ought. Then the Duke of Ormond proposed
that something should he put in writing by the
Duke (if Monmouth, to prevent mistakes on all
sides; and Monmouth actually wn)te or signed a
paper confessing the plot in general terms, and
presented it himself to the king in the Duchess
of Portsmouth's apartments, where he declared
before ail the company (the French mistreaa's
boudoir was Charles's usual council -chamber)
that he was a blockhead for being so long "in ill
company* with a "parcel of fools," Neither Or-
mond nor the king, however, waa satisfied with
this paper-for there wna no plain confeauon of
any conspiracy iu it. Another paper ranch more
explicit was then drawn up by order of the king,
who materially corTecte<l it with hia own baud.
After some beaitation Monmouth made a copy

,v Google

Jl— 1680.1

CHARLES II.

716

from this dr&ft, Rnd presented it to the kiug as
his own free deed. In doing u), he said, " This
paper will hang young Hampden.' Ch&rl«s re-
pUed it would not, nor should it ever be pro-
duced for Buch a purpose. That night Mon-
mouth supped with the elder Hampden and Mr.
Trenchard of Taunton. The next morning he
waited upon the king in a state ot great excite-
ment, and demanded back the paper. After
someattemptsat persuasion, which were followed
by hard and coarse words, the king said that he
should have it, but that he must restore to him
tlie origins!, draft whence he had copied it.
Monmouth at 6r8t said he had burned it, but,
seeing that it was the only way to get back that
which he had signed, he went and brought the
draft, and the papers were exchanged. But by
this measure Monmoutii again lost himself at
court, for the -vice-chamberlain waa sent to for-
bid his re-appearing there. He retired to the
countiy, but, stf<ady to no principles, and fixed
in no course, he again offered to lodge the signed
paper as his real confession in the king's hands.
Instead of receiving an invitation back to court,
Monmouth got a subpcena to attend as a wit-
ness for the crown on the trial of Mr. Hanip-
ilen. Thereupon he fled to Holland, where he
was kindly received by the Prince of Orange,
whose court had now become the sanctuary of
diaafTected Scots and English of all classes and
all colours of politics.

A D 1684 ^hea Hampden was brought to
trial it was for a misdemeanour,
nliiuh required but onewitne8a,and not for trea-
son, whith required two ; and this waa because
the court could only find one witness to swear
against him^the iiifamous Lord Howard. As
a matter of course the jury found for the king:
the court set the fine at £40,000, and moreover
ordered Hampden to be committed till it was
paid, and to find sureties for his good behaviour
during life. Two others of the Rye House plot-
ters ^Hol Iowa j, a merchant of Bristol, and Sir
Thomas Armstrong — were condemned to death
by Jeffreys, in defiance, not of one, but of many
laws, and were both executed. No more blood
was shed on this occasion in England ; but there
were several executions in Scotlajid, where the
atrocities generally exceeded those of the English
courts of taw.

All the Scottish plotters, or friends of Shaftes-
bury, Russell, and Sidney, that were arrested in
London, were sent down for tiinl to Edinburgh.
Bnillie of Jerviswood was the first victim, Seve-
i-al others were put to death in Scotland; but
■nany more escaped into Holland, where, like
their precursors, they were kindly received by
tbe Prince of Orange, who must have been fully
convinced by this time that tyranny and Fopeiy

were opening his way to the throne of England
and Scotland, to which (as yet) his wife Maiy
was next in regular order of succession to ti^
father, the Duke of York. The most eminent .
of these last Scottish refugee* were Lord Mel ville.
Lord Loudon, and Sir Patrick Hume. The abuse
of torture in Scotland at this time appears to have
been greater than it had been even in the days
of the Duke of lAuderdale. Spence, the fugitive
Earl of Aisle's secretary, and Carstairs, a Pres-
byterian cleigyman, who had both been seized
in London, were sent to Edinburgh to be tortui'ed
and tried. Spence endured the torture twice,
and Carstairs bore it for a full hour without con-
fessing or revealing anything. Their thumbs
were crushed, and their sleep wan interrupted for
many days and nights. At last nature could bear
no more, and Spence consented to read some let-
ters in cipher that treated of (or so, at least, it
was represented) a projected rising in Scotland,
the landing of Argyle, Stair, and other of the
fugitives in HolUnd, and of aid to be received
from the Whigs in England. This was on the
!3d of August ; and on the 5th of September, Car-
stairs, to avoid further torture, confessed before
the secret committee of council that tliere had
been a current plot in Scotland for the ten last
yean for keeping out
the Duke of York and
preserv log the Beform-
ed religion ; and he
denounced the Earl of
Tarros, Murray of
Philiphaugh, Pringle
of Torwoodlee, Scott of
Galashiels, and many
other gentlemen of
rank, as being privy to it. Several of these
lairds were threatened with the boots, and others
were actually tortured with worse instrnmenta.
Gordon of Earlstone, a man of family and for-
tune, had been condemned to die ; but, upon
information that he hod been intrusted with
important secrets, the council wrot« to the Scotch
secretary of slate at London to know whether
they might put him to the torture while he was
under sentence of deatli. The Lord-advocate of
Scotland opined that be might be tortured: and
the king gave ordeta that he should. Thereupon

4 import*, ■■! fen iutrar

■ llM UiambklTU, u Ilia ni
toItniD fepplLad to Ihn Uium'
e>ivuth>neT to iqDi»a th4m TlalAQtly. Thli wu oftfln dcDfe

qoiftlta tortuTV fend tirfplIinBOf lliflfenu tip to tbs iboalderfe.

Dr. JunkMauTi, "It hmlisen toij ggpsnlljuHrtad, tbit
pjrt of iha Cfergo of the Inrfnclbla Amjulfe WfeB ■ lugn amot\-
mcnt of thnmUksTiB, mamt Id ba piDplojod >■ povnfOl feifa-
menu for nnnTliKlng the htnUet." Loid FaunUlnbfell, la hu
niaolgimal Salii, leu, vji; "Spanea waa igfeln tonnnd
HLlh tha tbninbtkena, »d»w iBfaDtloe iDtnducad bj Gsnanla
Diktat and Dnmmmd, wbobadaaanthaiBiiaad inMoKar;.-'

»Google

HISTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil axu Miutabt.

Gordon waa broogbt before the priry conocil
and their accursed eogine* of tortarej the sight
of which drore him raring mad. "Through fear

and distraction he roared out like n bull, and
cried And stmck aboat blm, bo that the hangnuin
and his man durst scarce lay hands on him. At
laat fae fell into a swoon, and then, reviving, he
told that General Dalzie! and Dnimmond were
to head the fanatic party, and Duke Hamilton
was on their side ; which imprabable things made
some call it reverie, and others a politic design to
invalidate all he should say ; and the physicians
were oi-dained upon sonl and conscience to report
his condition, if they judged him really mad, or
only feigned, as David at Oath with Achish, as
also to prescribe him a diet for curing him ; and,
for more quietness, they sent him to the castle."'
He was afterwards reprieved by the council till
the last Friday in the month of January follow-
ing. (It was on the 23d of November, 1G83, that

he was brought up for torture.) " They thought
once to have given way to his eiecntion ; bat
being furious, others thought it cruel then to
bereave a man of his life, and endanger his tool,
when he couM not repent: though the king's
advocate alleged that the end or the punishment
of malefactora was not only /or their own good,
but in ctanu/dttonnn rt terrorem aiionm, which
end held even in decapitJtting a traitor, tbongfa
from horror and fear turned mad."*

The unusual mildness shown by Monmooth
towards the prisoners taken at Botfawell Kidge,
had been succeeded nnder the Duke of York by
detestable cruelties. Not only were those pun.
ished who had been in arms, but also those who
gave them shelter or betrayed any sj'npatby in
their after-sufferings ; and this, too, without any
dislindion as to the ties of blood and close rela-
tionship. Witnesses were tortured as well as
prisoner. Sentences of forfeiture were pro-
nounced upon presumptive evidence, or upon no
evidence at all, and the estates were divided
among the ministers of state of the Duke of
York's appointing, their retainers, and tlie com-
manders of the troops. In this way Graham of
Claverhouse, afterwards the celebrated Viscouiit
Dundee, and the favourite hero of the Tories,
was enriched by the lands of a ttupeeted Cove-
nanter. The narrow and solitary fortress on the
Bass Rock, Dumbarton Castle, and other places
the moat difficult of access, were crowded with
Covenantee and Cameronians, who were madi'
to endure the extremity of cruelty and hardship.

In England, Judge Jeffreys continued to rise
in the royal favour. When he n-as about to de-
part for the circuit, to give the provinces " a lick
with the rough side of his tongue* (a favourite
expression of his), the king took a ring from his
own finger, and gave it to htm, as a token of his
particular regard. At the same time Charles be-
stowed upon him a curious piece of advice to be
given by a king to a judge— it was, that, as the
weather would be hot, Jeffreys should beteart of
drinking too much. The people called the ring
" Jeffreys' bloodstone," as he got it just after the
execution of Colonel Armstrong. The lord chief-
justice's graud aim was to push the quo mirrcin/o.

> TIm boot l> nid to buT* bmi Importad ftnm Hiwli (Mu

Fnncs u "]■ bnidainia.- Thk tnrtnn wu Inflicted in Ih
p«wn» of 3tmm 1. on on* Df Finn, > (iipixKBd wlon], wh

n Danmuk. In>remutlDii>]ninphLiitwhic

'entaftnth coDtnrTn

with >

niMution, it la Blaled thitt "h»

of tha acott[>h Coiennntan, niwl>t«l of > ilioni Inn or woodm
boiulaptrd to laooiia ana or botb itf tha llgl Whan boUi laga

IV. or Kntica (aw hia trial in Bullr'a Mn<,mrt. rol, . ). ■

wara cniahta and bnlan togathur u amall ai mighta baa, ai<d
tha bniita and Boh ao bniiiad. Hat tha bloud and marrowa
apontad fonh In fnit abunduiH. nhanhf \tttj iitn m*d«
unianliiBabla lot •var.-' Tb* nnfurtnnala man waa aftarwudi
bnmad. Thia

»Google

CHARLES II.

717

aod to obtain, through terror or cajolerj, a aur-
render of the corporation chartera ; and thia war
agfunBtcivtcrightawasdriveD od with such vigour
aud success, that almost all the municipal! ties were
prevniled on, eventually, either to suffer jndgment
against them by default, or to Barreoder their
chartera in hope of conciliating the favour of the
despot,' It was avowedly not a reform that
Charles wanted, but a total destruction of muni-
cipal tnatitutions, which, mora than any other
single cause, secure men in their liberty, and fit
them for the enjoyment of it, and for the self-
legislating (in minor points) and business habits
of freemen. And whenever that Saxon spirit of
municipal government ia destroyed, either by an
over-ex ten a ion of the French principle of central-
ization, or by any other whim of rash legislators
or embryo tyrauta, the parliament of England
will be worth less than a village vestry.

Charles was now proving to the world that he
had no intention of ever again meeting parlia-
ment. Halifax ventured to propose such a meet-
ing, bnt Charles had now resigned hioiself to the
will of his brother. The duplicity of Halifax
hardly saved him from the duke's vengeance ;
and dui-ing the few months that remained of thia
reign, the duke and minister were alternately
engaged in 'nnited intrigaes against other minis-
ters, and in intriguing the one agaiust the other.
The whole business of the admiralty was again
placed in thehandsof James; and presently after,
in defiance of the test act, he was re-admitted as
a member of the council. It was scarcely to be
expected, that he who never pardoned any one
should overlook his arch-enemy, the Reverend Dr.
Titus Oates, That great hero of the Popish Plot
was brought before Jeffreys, upon whom, in former
days, he had adventured his wit,' charged with
sundry libels under the statute de tcandalii mag-
naluffi. Witnesses swore that the doctor had said
that the Duke of York was a traitor — that "the
Duke of York, before the saccession should come
to him, should be banished or hanged, but hang-
ing was the fittest." Damages were awarded to
the duke to the amount of £100,000, which was
equivalent to a sentence of perpetual imprison-
meut against the doctor.

Jeffreys, who had first been promoted at court
by James (who had employed him as his solicitor-
general), seems to have undertaken the moat diffi-

cnlt and dangerons task of stretching the limits
of toleration ; but with the sole view of benefit-
ing the Catholics, and gratifying the duke.

In his bold intrigues, Halifax included a secret
correspondence with the Duke of Monmouth,
with some others of the exiles at the court of the
Prince of Orange, and also mtk William himtdf;
but though the Duke of York knew or suspected
this, he was unable to deprive him of the favonr
of the king, who liked the minister more for hie
ready wit and talent for satire than for any other
quality. Lord Rochester, the second son of the
late chancellor, Clarendon, after a vain rivalship,
was appointed to the presidency of the council,
I a post of nominal dignity rather than of power
or great emolument. This his rival Halifax called
kicking a mail upstairs. Subsequently, Rochester
was appointed to the government of Ireland, in
therooraottheDukeofOrmond, who was abruptly
recalled to make room for him, and for a scheme
which it was fancied Ormond would not go into.
Thia was the raising of a Catholic army in Ire-
land, to be employed, if necessary, in England.'
Godolphin, that ad roittrimmer,whoretained place
and favour under three successive princes of very
opposite characters, after being promoted to one
of the two secretar}-ships of state, was removed
to Rochester's place. Snnderland, aa adroit as
Godolphin, remained in office, and kept up a very
friendly understanding with the French mistress.
The foreign transactions of this cabinet were suf-
ficiently base, but they are uninteresting, being
merely a continuation of Charles's old system.
Among these transactions may be classed the
marriage of the Princess Anne, the Duke of York's
second daughter. This young lady, it is said, bad
been, for prudential reasons, always d^tined to a
Protestant prince; and it is added that the court
of France, which exercised their infiuence in all
things, hod consented to that arrangement, with
the proviso that they should have the naming of
the person. It was on this errand thiit George
(afterwards George I.), the son of the Elector of
Hanover, came over to England in 1682. Burnet
intimates that this wooer was recalled by his
father, who had changed his mind, and settled
that he should marry the Princess of Zell, his
first cousin. But it is insinuated by others that
the Hanoverian wbb fastidious; that the Lady
Anne had not the fortune to please him ; and that,

•Thkwi

» trial orCciltcgt. Iho "I>rDtii>Unl JoEnn."
-non OkIh ipinnd to pnia tint pnbornition hul bsni pnn-
Iiud ifiliut thfl PntntuiU. Ha ippcklsd to jEffn^i, then
•njMul, u to hi> knowl«ig« of 4lderTD»o Wilcoi; JafftiT"

h*. "1 Aa not deiirr," ntd Titai, "that Sir 0»r^ Jnthrtjt
I had endlt In pax

•nd ■ phllvDiihsr." labet, IdNoihbIir, 1680, ths Hoot of
CDnmKnu had lottd that Sir Omfg SaEnj^ the nonda ct
th< dlT of London, b; InduirinK and nbrtroctlng tha petitloD-

thciDbJsct, T]iiiThad.iDanom.iMlItoiiadtbaklnstaramoig
him out at all public onoei, and had brought htm apon Ut
koHi at tho hir of tba faooH. Jmttnft waa alK> fngh(««d inta
a •onandn' of tha rscordonhlp of London. Cliarlai mad* a
Dockerr of hli tana, and told him ha »

,v Google

718

HISTOHT OP ENGLAND.

[Civil un> Mixjiah,

like other great Udies, she never forgot or for- |
g&ve the Affront to her djing day.' On the IDlh .
of Jnlj, 1683, two days before the beheading of .
Lord Rtusell, aod iu the midat of tha public
excitement about the Rye Route Plot, George,
Prince of Denmark, brother to hii Daniah ma- i
jeety, ari'ived to many the Lady Anne; and as
he was backed by Prance, and nil tha prelimi-
naries bad been settled, the marriage took place '
at Whitehall a week after. j

Meanwhile, Louis XIV., regardleu of the .
treaty of Nimeguen, and of the rights of nations,
was continuing hia career of encroachment and '
aggression. Upon the Rhine, at the foot of tlie ^
Pyreneen, and across the Alps, the might of his
arms, or of his gold and intrigues, waa felt. Genoa
the superb was bombarded, and her doge com-
pelled, in person, to implore the pardon of the
grand nionarque at Versailles. It seemed that
England had i-eaigned the sovereignty of the seaa.
France had now a magnificent fleet, manned by
00,000 sailotsi and the French flag exacted hom-
nge in all diiectionn. The Prince uf Orange, who
ngain found Holland exposed, and who had never
ceased labouring to foim a coalition against the
French, now united with the courts of Madrid
and Vienna in urging Chailes to take pait in u
league for the preservation of the independence
of Europe; but Charles knew that he could not
figure na a lielligeient without calling a parlia-
ment for money, and a parliament he was resolved
never to call. Ho therefore continued to receive
his pay from France, which became less liberal
and regular as I^uis perceived his real condition.
In the preceding year (16B3), Lord Dartmouth
was sent with a squadron to Tangier, with a secret
commission to blow up the mole, the fortifications,
and all the worka, which had cost England im-
mense sums; to bring home the garrison, and to
leave the mins to the btoors. No material benefit
liad been derived tvom the occupation of that
African port; but a wiser government might
have rendered it something like what Gibraltar
hits become in our hands, and made it a nucleus
of African commerce and civilization.

In rendering himself absolute,
Charles had failed to increase hie
happiness. His usual gaiety forsook him, and
lie became morose, gloomy, and dejected, unable
U) find any solace except in sauntering away hia
time among hia women. A variety of causes has
been assigned for this change of temper in the
constitutionally gay and thoughtless monarch ;
yet probably, after all, his dejection arose more
from hia declining health than from any intensity
of moral feeling or anxiety. It was, perhaps,
nothing more than the heaviness and gloom which
generally precedes apopleiy. In the midstof the

A.ti. 1685.

fiercely renewed conflidiug intrigues of Rilllu:
and the Duke of York, who each wiahed to buitti
the other, Charles, who bad wavered sod U u
both, promised to make np his miod to ioiDettt-
tain course; but on Monday, the 2d of Febnurr,
after passing a irstless night, his face m ulr
served to be pale and ghastly, his head dnrnftd
and his hand was fixed on his htonwcb. Dr.Eln*
an eminent chemist and physician, vho «u ii
waiting that day by the particulsronltrof it
king, who had a taste for experimeiitsl ptikc-
phy, ran out of the room, and nteetiiig the h:'.
at Peterborough, told him that his mijoij 'ii
in a, strange humour, for he did not aptik rt-
word of sense. The earl relumed with tliedrc.i:
into the chamber, and they had scamly tnirt-;
when Charles fell on the floor as if deii D:
King then resolved to bleed him at all iunrii
and, after bleeding, the king came to himfiL
The royal physicians afterwards spprovri i:
Kin^s promptitude; and the coancil omtc:
.£1000 for his good service, vkieh teatxiraii,'
As soon as the report of Ihia illoeasgotit'ni-
the people were thrown into a great itnm.
According to one party, this wss »iii[Jy i^
effect of their wonderful love (o Charles's \fpi(
but the other party hinted that the dmd<^L'
successor did not a little contribute to swell itri
sorrow. On the third day of the king'iillw
the lords of the council inserted a bullelin in ^
(7ai(fte,stating that hia physicians coacelvt^i
he was now out of danger, and that in »(«''.'■
he would be fi-eed from his distemper. Bulb'
bulletin was scarcely made public wbeDlbtk"
had a second fit ; and then the pbyucims &■
him over, and consigned him to the ajiiritnilt^^
of the bishops. Charles wanted no FruU^
divines. Barillon, the French arabsssJiT^
bribe -payer, hasted to Whitehall to ipst'
the Duke of York, who begged him W i^'
Ring Louis that he would ever have in i*
faithful and gi-ateful servant. The anilib.-i
then passed for a moment into the sjisrtiiKB'
his countrywoman, the Duchess of Porinm"
"Instead of speaking to me,' eaysBuilliv-'
her grief, and of the great loss she «a"^'°'
anslnin, she entered into a private csl^sft^'
said, 'Monsieur I'Ambassadeur, I am guinc
tell you the greatest secret in the world, it^J-
head would be in danger if it were known i'-
The king, in the bottom of his heart, is ■ C^'
lie!" She conjured him to go to tlieDit^
York, and concert how a confessor mlgbi '
smuggled into the king's bedside. Tberr^'
Severn! difficulties to overcome. The Eii(|-
bishops scarcely ever left the bedside, ■>''' '^
had even pressed him to receive the ssoW'
according to the ritea of their own chordi. A'
I then, by the law of the land, it was stiU <^-

,v Google

A.D. 1681—1686.]

CHARLES n.

719

for a native Romish priest to preseot himself;
and Charles, it appears, could confeaa himself in
iio other language than English. Various expe-
dients were thought of hy the duke and the am-
bassador. At last, it was resolved to send to the
Venetian resident for a priest that spoke English ;
but, as time pressed, the Count of Castelmelhor
went into the closet where the queen's priests
were amembled, and nnexpect«dly found among
them one Uuddleston, a priest, who bad saved
the king's life after the battle of Worcester, and
who, bj special act of parliament, had been ex-
empted from all the laws made against the Catho-
lics. The; put a wig and gown upon this man
to disguise him. Castelraelhor took htm to be
instructed by a Portuguese monk of the order of
the Barefooted Camielites, in wbat he had to do
on such an occasion; for IIuddleBton was no prac-
tised confessor. Then Castelmelhor conducted
him to the door of a room that adjoined the sick
chamber ; and the Duke of York, being warned
bf Barillon that all was readj, sent out Chiflinch
of the back-stairs, who had been accustomed to
bring Charles his women, to bring in Huddleston
and the host. The Buke of York exclaimed
aloud, " The king wilts that everybody should
retire except the Earls of Bath and Feversbam."
The physicians went into a closet, the door of
which was shut upon them ; and Chiffinch came
l>ack with the disguised priest. In presenting
Huddleston, James said, " Sire, here is a man
who once saved your life, and who is now come
to save your soul." The king answered, " He is
welcome,' He then confessed himself with seem-
ing sentiments of devotion and i-epentance; and
the Duke of York assured Barillon that Huddle-
ston had acquitted himself very well as a con-
fessor, and made the king formally promise to
declare himself openly a Catholic, if be recovered
Ilia health. After confession Charles received
absolution, the Romish communion, and even ex-
treme unction. During the three quarters of an
liour that all this lasted, the courtiers, attendants,
Protestant bishops, and others in the ante-cham-
ber, gazed at one another; none said anything ex-
cept with their eyes, or in whispers. According to
Barillon, the presence in the sick room of Lords
Bath and Feversham, who were Prot«stants, sa-
tisfied the bishops a little: but the queen's women
and the other priests saw so much going and
coming that it was impossible the secret could
be kept long.' After CHiarles had received the

■ All tliii Uma, uil fmn Ibg klngi bainc tn dHifn to hl>
d*uh, •• i-njtn.'t*ji Erelrn. " van lalnanl; auda in all tha
ebuichn, aiiwciallj In both tha cnuTl chii|>a]a. ohtn tha c)up-

tha timi bi bagui to ba [n dangar till h* nplnd, lotortlng to

Uh Btebop ot Bub ■

loan, tha ArrhhubapofCam
A Waif— i>«Ti.

the violence of his disorder seemed
to abate, and he spoke more iutelligibly than he
bad done for some time. He sent for his natural
children, gave them bis dying blessing, and re-
commended them to his successor, But of the
absent Duke of Monmouth he made no mention,
good or bad. As he was pronouncing his bless-
ing on his illegitimate sons, the bishops observed
that he wm the Lord's anointed, and the father
of his country; and thereupon all present fell
upon their knees, and Charles raised himself iu
his bed, and very solemnly blessed them all.
The queen bad sent to excuse her absence, and
to implore his pardon for any offence that she
might have given him. "Alas '. poor woman,' said
Cltarles, "it is I that should ask her pardon; and
I do it with all my heart." He spoke repeatedly
to the Duke of York in terms of tenderness and
friendship ; he twice recommended to him the
Duchess of Portsmouth and his son hy her, the
young Duke of Richmond; he begged kind treats
ment for the Duchess of Cleveland ; nor was his
stage-mistress forgotten. "Do uot,"aaid he, "let
poor Nelly starve.* At these words the bishops
were much scandalized. ThekingoftenexpreBsed
his confidence in God's mercy. Ken, the ortho-
dox. Bishop of Bath and Wells, read some prayers,
and spoke to him of God; "but the bishop,' adds
Barillon, " was not officious in saying anything
particular to him, or proposing that be should
make a profession of bis faith; he apprehended a
refusal, but feared still more, as I believe, to ir-
ritate the Duke of York.* Charles was perfectly
sensible the whole night, and spoke upon all
things with great calmness. At six o'clock in
the morning (it was the 6th day of February) he
asked what hour it was, and said, "Open the
curtains that I may once more see daylight,* At
ten o'clock his senaes were quite gone, and he
died half an hour before twelve, without any
struggle or convnlaion.* Charles waa in the fifty-
fifth yesr of hia age, and the twenty-fifth of bis
reign de facta from the Restoration in 1660;
though the formal mode of reckoning in acta of
parliament and legal docnmente is from the death
of his father, which makes the duration of his
leign thirty-six yean.

It waa instantly "ventilated abroad* that his
death waa caused by poison administered to make
way for the sncceanion of his Popish brother; but
it appears to ua that this foul rumour, of which
we sliall soon hear more, rested upon the slender-
est of foundations, and that James, with ail his
faults and hardness of heart, was utterly incapa-
ble of committing or permitting any such crime.

■ Wphha da H. Barillon aa Rul, datod Fabnair 18 (mw
tt]Fla),l«U; Hnddlaitoa-iDtiaf Auwiin(lii£lcU(m(C(, indJn
Hit H. Ellia'i Utttn: BTal/n ■ Aiurj.- LaLlor to tha Rar. Fnomi
Rapsr, ralluwof SL Johni Colloce, Cambridsa, Id Blr H. ElUa'i

»Google

niSTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civ,

CHAPTER v.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— A.D. 1685.

JAWES II.— ACCESSION, A.D. 1G3S— FUOHT, A.D. 168S,

jceadon of Junes II —His npaacb to tha council— He iIidwi hia Fopiib pradiieotioiu- H* ntilimlM for put
injurin— Ha oceratrnim the royal prtrogativs — Junta pcoiioned bjr Louii JCIV.^Hii coronation ^TitiuOatoi
braueht to trial— Hi> nvera puniibniBnt— Dangerfield tried and Diurdered- Parliament aaaemblad— The Icing's
opening apescb and propoaali- Compliance of parliament — The Earl of Argj'le lande in ScotlaDd — He leviea
waragainat the king- His defaat and captun-Hii eiBcution— Eiscution of Rumbold and Colonel AylolTo
— Exaontioas and puniahments in Scotland — The Duke of Uontuoutb lualiea a hoelila landiug in England —
His popularity— Hspubliihaa his " Daclaration" — Hiapratenaion to the crown— His first military procvedinga
— Quarrala among liii chief followen—Uoninouth'sprogreu to Taunton — Hia flattering recaption— He aanina
the title and prerogatives of royslty— Hia furtheruiilitary proceed ingt— Battle of Sedgemooi— Defeat of Mon-
moutli'a army— The dake't capture— His bopelcaa attempta upon the clemency of James— Hit behaviour ou
thescaffold— Attempts of tbabiabopa to procure hia aawnt to the doctrine of non-reaiatance—Hiseiecution—
Eiecntiona made by Colonel Kirke after the battle of Sedgemoor-Jcflreyi' campaign —Iniqnitoas etecution
of Mra. Lialo— Continued aieeutioas ot Judge Jeflreya- He ia appointed lord -chancellor —Cruelties eierciaad
on thou whoaa live* wets spared.

S soon aa Lis brother was deail
Jamea hastened to the council, and
thus addressed the meiubera of it:
—"My lords, before I enter any
other business, I tliink tit to any

1 ■■- —I something to you. Since it bath

pleaaed almighty God to plarame in this station,
and I am now to succeed so good and gracious
a king, as well aa so very kind a. brother, it is
proper for me to declare to you that I will en-
deavour to follow his example, and particularly
in that of hia great clemency and tenderness to
his people. I have been reported to be a man
fond of arbitrary power; but that is not the only
falsehood which has been reported of me: and I
shall make it my endeavour to preserve this
government, both in church and state, bb it ia
now by law eatalilished. I know the principles
of the Church of England are favourable to
monarchy; and the membera of it have shown
themselves good and loyal anbjecta; therefore I
shall aways take cnre to defend and support it.
I know, too, tliftt the laws of England are suffi-
cient to make the king as great a monarch as I
can wish ; and as I shall never depai-t from the
just rights and prerogative of the crown, so 1
shall never invade any man's property. I have
often before ventured my life in defence of this
nation ; and shall go as fur as any man in pre-
serving it in nil its just rigiits and liberties." On
the same afternoon at four o'clock James was
proclaimed in the very same forms aa his grand-
father James I., after the death of Queen Elixa-
both. The people answered with acclamations,
and not a shadow of opposition appeared any-
where. In the evening there was great kissing
of hands at Whitehall, the queen being in her
bed, but putting forth her hand. Janiea, though

little less vicious than his brother, was more
quiet in his pleasures, and was possessed of a
strong sense of decorum and atatelines^. "The
face of the whole court," says Evelyn a few days
later, " was exceedingly changed into a more
solemn and mora! behaviour; the new king af-
fecting neither profaneness nor huflbonery.*

When the niiniatei's and great officers waited
upon James, to surrender their officer and charges
into his majesty's hands, he returned them all
back to them with gracious wonts. By the ad-
vice of the council, his lirat declaration was
printed and dispersed all over the coiinlry. as
containing matter of great satisfaction to a jealoua
people; and a proclamation was set forth to con-
tinue all magislrntea and authorities whalaoever ;
thus making the transition of government almost
imperceptible, and causing the new reign to ap-
pear no more than a continuation of the former
one. But all these and other measures began to
lose their value when tlie king was seen, on the
first Sunday after his brother's burial,' going to
mass publicly with all the ensigns of royalty, and
ordering the doors of his Romish chaiiel to bo
set wide open. The Duke of Norfolk, who car-
ried the sword of state, stopped at the unlawful
threshold. " My lord," said the king, " yotir
father would have gone further." " Your ma-
jesty's father would not have gone so far,' re-
plied the duke. He ordered Iluddleston, the
priest, to publish a relation of Charles's dying in
the communion of the Church of Rome, aud ha
himself became the publisher of two papers,
which he declared in his own royal name, and
under his signature, were found by him in his

It Feb.— Th> kini was tliia ■iji*! b

,v Google

A-D. 1686.] JAM

brother*! strong box; their teodency being to
eatablish that there could be but one true church,
and that that waa the Church of Rome; that
wfaoHoever set up their own authoritj against
that one true church, whether individuals, na-
tiouB, or govemments, fell immediately into fan-
aticism; and that, consequently, the Church of
England la; aa open to that imputation as any of
the sects which bad arisen out of and separated
from it. Jamea triumphantly ahawed these two
papers to Sancroft, Archbishop of Canterbury,
who aaid that he did not think the late king had
been so learned in controversy, but that the argu-
ments in the papers were easy to refute. James
challenged the archbishop to confute them in
writing, if he could; but Sancroft, not anxious to
incur the martyrdom of court displeasure, aaid
that it ill became him
to enter into a contro-
versy with hia sove-
reign. Nor could
Jameo, aa king, mag-
nanimously overlook
the affronts which had
been offered to him as
Duke of York, or treat
with decent civility
any of his old oppon-
ents except such as laid
their principles and
their honour at hisfeet.
When the leading
Whigs came up to pay
their court in common
with the reat of hia
Bubjecta, moat of them
were but coldly re-
ceived ; some were

^arply reproached Jabcs [I.—Pmoiii print

for their past be-
haviour; and otfaera were denied access. But
another more decided symptom of James's oe-
membrauce of past injuries appeared in hia
ordering Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, to publish
a full narrative of the Rye House Plot under
tiie royal authority. "This relation was written
with great <rirulence of expression upon past
heats ; and in it an averment was made that
James knew of 20,fl00 persona who had been en-
gaged in that plot — an implied menace, which, '
by the ambiguity of ita object,cauBed every Whig
in the nation to think it waa levelled at him." '
Jamea, moreover, though he had promised to call
a parliament, had not patience to wait for ita as-
sembling, but proceeded at once to stretch the

s ir. 721

prerogative in n^^ard to points where the nation
was most sensitive, lliose branches of the revenue
which conaiated of the customs and of port of the
excise, having been granted to the late king for
life, stopped by law at his death; but Lord Chiefs.
justice Jeffreys moved that, without further ado,
the king should instantly issae a proclamation,
commanding the revenue to be Levied and em-
ployed aa in the former reign ; and Jamea fol-
lowed thifl congenial advice. To cover this stretch
of arbitrary power, the court procured addt&Bes
from many public bodies. The barristers and
students of the Middle Temple thanked his ma-
jesty for extending hia royal cara to the preser-
vation of the cuHtoms, and prayed that there
never might be wanting millions aa loyal aa
themselves to sacrifice life and fortune in sup-
port of hia majesty's
sacred person and pre-
rogative in its full ex-
tent; and the univer-
sity of Oxford hastened
to declare their faith
and true obedience to
their sovereign, with-
out any restrictions or
limitations of hia
power. But all these
addresaea could not
blind men to the ille-
gality of the measure,
or make them forget
the civil wars and the
miseries produced by
the attempt of this
king's father to levy
part of the same dnties
without consent of par-
ua Kndler. liament ; and "compli-

ments by public bodies
to the sovereign for the breach of the laws, only
served to remind the nation that the laws had
been broken.'' Humanity, juatice itself, ifould
make us approve and applaud the object of
another of James's proceedings by prerogative;
but the nation was not then in a etate for the
exercise of this humanity and justice; and the
measure was clearly contrary to law and the con-
stitution, which had repeatedly repudiated this
dispensing power in the sovereign. By his royal
warrant, he threw open the prisons of England
to thousands of Didsentera and Papista, who had
been enduring a horrible captivity for contcienoa'

James had taken the earliest opportunity ot
assuring his friend Barillon that his trust, after
God, was in the EVench king. Louis, to aecure'
him, aa he had done his brother, sent him 500,000

»Google

722 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [CtviL akc Militart.

livrea, which Jmum received with tears of grati- j nation, Titus Oktes was agsio brought np to the
tude. Bochester plaiulj told Barillon, "Your Iiarof the Court of Kise'ii Bench; for Jamcawaa
master must place mioe in a situation to be inde- | not satiafied with the perpetual imprisonment to

pendent of parliameats ;' and Jaiuea renewed hia I
abject prayers for more
money. At tbe same time,
he outwardly afiecUd an
equality with Louie, de-
clared that he would not be
governed by French coun-
sels, knd that be would main-
tain the balance of Europe
with asteadyhand. Captain
Churchill, now a lord, and
in the highest favour, was
eeut to Paris to announce
in form the accession.

Id any ecruples were en-
tertained both by James
and hie wife touching the
coronation, which ceremony it was
should be performed by a Protestant prelate
Priests, and even the Pope himself, were con
suited. A quibble was resorted to in order

■ already doomed. Thia time the

It In the Crawk Psniu

"saver" of the nation was tried, not for libela,
but for perjury. Avast number of Roman Catho-
lics assembled in Westminster Hall, "in ezpect*-
tion of the most grateful conviction and ruin of

justify the oath which had to be taken to | a person who had been so obnoxious to them."
maintain the Anglican church; and, after taking , Jeffreys was again hie judge, and this time his

the solemn vows, the king and queen, upon St.
George's Day, were crowned in Westminster
Abbey by Sancroft, Archbishop of Canterbury.
As the crown was put upon James's unhappy
bead, it tottered and almost fell; and it waa ob-

TlTVa OlTD IK THE PlLUDKT.

riDD ■ DflUh print in kha Cnula Ptnnint, Brltiih Mnanim.

served that, during both the coronation and the
banquet, he was ill at ease.

On Uie 7th of May, a fortnight after the coro-

brutal Bcveriliea were unchecked. People
pected to see the Protestant champion cower like
a whipped spaniel; but it was not so. This exem-
plary witness boldly challenged the veracity and
the character of the witnesnes brought against
him, particularly objecting to Lord Castlemaine
as a Papist; but in impudence and strength of
face Oates was a match even for the redoubtable
Jeffreys, and the scoundrel had a sort of siurit
which the wonderful change in his drcnmstancea
could not depress. "Hold your tongue,' roared
Jeffreys; "you are a shame to mankind.* "No,
niy lord," said the imperturbable Titus, "I am
neither a shame to myself or mankind. What I
have sworn is true ; and I will stand by it to my
last breath, and seal it, if occasion he, with my
blood." "'Ttcen pity but that it wen to b» domi
bg thy blood" responded this decent lord chief-
justice. Oates was convicted upon two indict-
ments, and this was his sentence ; — 1st, He was
to pay 1000 marks upon each indictment; 2d, to
be stripped of all his canonical habits (a sentence
the right of pronouncing which belonged only to
the courts ecclesiastical); 3d, he was to stand
twice in the pillory; 4th, to be whipped from
Aldgate to Newgate one day, and, two days aftei^
wards, from Newgate to Tybum ; and Stb, he was
to stand in the pillory on five days in every year
as long as he lived. The sentence was executed
without mercy as long as James and Jefireya had
the power to inflict torture.' The moet severe
■ Tb> frMU Lnl)B hu Ihii autir Id hta Miry so Uh t*d irf

,v Google

death wonld hare been preferable; but Titai'a
bod; waa aa taugb aa hia soal, and he snrvived
to be pardoned and rewarded at the Bavolution.
Nor did the aight of his hnmiliating enfferinga
altogether throw hint from that pedestal on which
religious zeal had placed him.

Bedloe was safe in his graye, and othen of the
Protestant witnesses had either hid themaelvaa
or entered into the pay of theeonrt; but Danger-
field was caught and tried at the King's Bench
for writing and publishing a villainous and acan-
dalona libel, called his Narrative. He received
judgment to stand twice in the pillory; to be
whipped from Aldgate to Newgate on one day,
aod teoTa Newgate to Tyburn on another; and to
pay a fine of £&00. Thia handsome acoundrcl
waa not made of auch materials as Titus. He
" waa atmclE with auch horror at thia terrible
sentence that be looked on himself as a dead man,
and, accordingly, chose a text for his funeral ser-
mon; but persevered in asserting that all he had
delivered in evidence before the House of Com-
mona was true. The whipping was executed in
full rigour, as before upon Oates; and it was
scarce over before one Mr. Robert Frances, a bar-
rister of Gray'a Inn, gave him a wound with his
cane, in or neai- the eye, which, according to the
deposition of the aurgeons, was the cause of his
death." This furious barrister, Mr. Frances,
was tried for murder; and, as the popular feeling
was violent against him, it was judged proper to
permit his conviction and ezecntion.

The Scottish parliament aaaembled on St.
Cieorge'a Day—the day of their majesties' coro-
nation ; and the Scots, priding themselves on
being the first parliament called by the new
king, voted the excise and cnstoma to him and
his BUCceasoTS for ever, and a further aum of
,£SS,000 a-year for his life.

The English parliament assembled on the S2d
of Hay; and, aa the elections had gone greatly
iu favour of the Tories, it was expected that it
would be aa prompt and obedient as the Scotch.
But not even the Tories were prepared for the
repeal of the habeas corpus act, for a general
toleration, or for the promotion of Popery; and
it waa well known that James was aiming at all
three. The bishops all took their places. "Then
came in the king, with the crown on hia head ;
and, being seated, the commons were introduced ;
and, the house being full, he drew forth a paper

rf.'— "Oiila. wholud bat twod^t hetbn bmi pOtoriid
rskl pUm And wb1pp«d mt thscvt^i-Uil frtm N«W|aU to
lU, ni thli dar pluad cm n ■ladia. balnc nnt afalH la |D

pojnriwH

call a parliament from the moment of his bro-
ther's decease, aa the best means of settling all
the concerns of the nation, ao as to be most easy
and happy to himself aa well as to his subjects.
He repeated, almost word for word, the asaur'
aneea which he had given to the council on the
morning of his brother'a death, that he would
defend and aupport the Church of England, and
govern according to law; and then continued,
"Having given thia assurance concerning the
care 1 will have of yoar religion and property,
which I hare chosen to do iu the aame words I
used at my first coming to the crown, the better
to evidence to you that I spoke them not by
chance ; and, consequently, that you may firmly

rely on a promise so solemnly made .* Here

he waa interrupted by a murronr of satdsfaction ;
and men who had hitherto had their eyes fixed,
upon him, now gazed at one another with anr-
priae, joy, and trinmph. Resuming his speech,
the king told them that he might now reasonably
expect a revenue for life such as had been voted
to his brother. Here waa another mnminr, which
expressed universal assent. But James, who could
not control his arbitrary temper, and who was
wholly unfit to manage popular assemblies, con-
tinned, "There is one popular aigument which I
foresee may be used against what I have asked
of you. The inclination men have for frequent
pariiaroents, some may think would be the beat
secured by feeding me, from time to time, by
such proportions aa they shall think convenient ;
and this argument, it being the first time I speak
to you from the throne, I will answer, once for
all, that this would be a very improper method
to take with me,* and that the best way to engage
me to meet you often is always to use me weU.
I expect, therefore, that you will comply with me
in what I hare denred, and that you will do it
I speedily.' At these words every face was covered,
as it were, with a cloud.' Bat the royal bird of
bad augury had not yet done; and he proceeded
to announce that news had reached him that very
morning, that Argyla, with a rebel band from
Holland, had bnded in the Western Highlands,
and had proclaimed him a usurper and tyrant.
Both houses, however, pledged themselves to
assist his majesty to the utmost; and, according
to Evelyn, "there was another shout of Vive U
Roi, and so his majesty retired."

The commons voted thanks to the king for hia
Hpeech, granted the revenue of £1,300,000 for his
life, and everything else that was demanded, as
if they were more forward to give than James
was to ask. But, shortly aft«r, a very full com-
mittee unanimously reeolred to "move the house

»Google

724

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and Miutar7.

to Btaud hy the king in the support and defence
«f Uie reformed religion of the Church of Eng-
land, with their lives and fortunes ;" and to od-
drcM him "to pnt the laws in eiecntion agaiiut
alt DiueiUen viatioever from the Church of Eng-
land." James inatantly summoned some of the
leading members to his presence, and told them
harthlf that thej must present do eiich addreaa.
A vehement delmte ensued in the house ; but, iu
the end, a compvmise was hit upon, and the
resolution was pnt in these words :— "The house
reliee on his majesty's word and re;>eated deda-
ration to support and defend the religion of the
Church of ^gland as it is now bj law estab-
lished, which is dearer to us tlian our lives." The
speaker, who presented this resolution, together
with the money bill, "without auj appropriating
or tucking clauses whatever,' dwelt with parti-
cular emphasis on the last words of the resolu-
tion, "dearer than our Jives." The king did not
beatow one syllable upon the subject in his an-
swer to the epeakeri but to others he complained
that the commons would have him, in his own
person, to be the persecutor of the Catholics.

Od the I4th of June, certftin intelligence was
received of the landingof theDukeof Monmouth
with an armed force. Both houses forthwith
attainted the duke as a traitor; and the com-
mons voted an extraordinary supply of .£400,000.
James then, on the 2d of July, adjourned parlia-
ment to the following November. By this time,
though Monmouth had set up his standard as
King of England, Argyle had been routed and
put to death.

The leading facta of this double invasion are
•oon told. The Scottish refugees in Holland
fanned that neither England nor Scotland would
tolerate the government of the Papistical and
idolatMMU James; and they were encournged by
many suffering Fiesbyterians and Covenauters to
■trika a blow for liberty and the kirk. Argyle
opened a correspondence with Monmouth, and it
was aiTSLDged between them that two expedi-
tions should bemade simultaneously — one to Scot-
land under Argyle, the other to England tinder
the duke. Money, and nearly everything else,
was wanting, and Monmouth was dilatory and
diffident of snccess ; but at last two handfula of
men were got together, and some arms were pur-
chased and some ships freighted. Argyle sailed
on the 8d of May, with Sir John Cochnme, with
Ayloffe.and Rnrabold the maltster, two English-
nen, who had been made famous by the parte
attributed to them in the Rye House Plot, and
with about 100 followers. Monmouth promised
to sail for England in six days ; but he wasted
his time— loath to tear himself from a beauti-
ful mistress, the lady Harriet Wentworth, who
had been living with him at Brussela. In the

meantime, Argyle shaped his course for the
Western Highlands. While he was beating
round the northern capes and headlands; the
govenuuent had leisure to make their prepara-
tions ; and, as it was known that he was coming,
two ships of war were sent to watch his motions.
The whole militia of the kingdom, consisting of
30,000 men, were put under arms; and a third
inrt of it, with 3000 r^^lar troops, was manned
into the western country. At the same time, all
such as were suspected of favouring him were
seized; and the king's proclamations, and the
declarations of parliament, were published to the
people, who stood in awe of James's well-known
severity. Argyle, however, ef!eet«d a landing;
sent tlie fiery cross from hill to hill, from clan to
dan, and got about S600 Bighlandera to join him.
He published two declarations, one in his own
name, complaining of his own wrongs, the other
setting forth that tlie miseries of the nation arose
out of the breach of the Covenant; that the king
had forfeited the crown by the crimes of Popery,
Prelacy, tyranny, and fratricide; and that he was
corns to suppress alike Prelacy aud Popet;. His
stnndard bore the inscription, "Against Popery,
Prelacy, and Erastiaoism." He lost some time in
expecting to be joined by more of the Highlan-
ders, and to hear of Moumonth't landing upon
tlie western coast of England, as had l>eeD agreed
upon; and when he pushed forward for Glasgow
he was betrayed by his gaides and waggon-men,
deserted by the greater part of his followers, and
confronted by Lord Dumbarton with n force in
every way far superior to his own. Hume and
Cochrane left him almost alone, and crossed the
Clyde in safety with 800 or 300 men. Attended
only by Fullarton, Argyle, in disguise, endea-
voured to elude pursuit; but he was tracked by
some militiam en, overpowered, made prisoner,Bnd
carried liack to his old cell in Edinburgh Castle
on the 20th of Juhe. His life was held to be for
feited, without any trial, by his fotrner sentence;
and James sent down his dsath-warrant, allow-
ing him three days, to be employed in "all ways'
Uiat might make him confess the full particulars
of his defeated plan. It is genendly understood
tliat James meant by this that Argyle shonld be
put to torture ; but it does not appear that the
uoble jirifloner was ei ther hooted orthu mb-sere wed,
and it is certain that he betrayed none of his
friends. He was beheaded on the 30th of June,
and died with admirable courage,' Many were

' " Nho, ]i«h*|s, did • few ■mtnoai pment n itriklnf ■
pictan ct ft nLhd ttvly firiiHui ftnd hmonnblfl Hcroia
to Uw Jvut put of hii pnUfl. htkL TanWifi^

- - .latlHHBdUUlTwIthirl

,v Google

A.D. 168S.] JAM]

aorely dii^ipoiDtod that be ma not hanged like
Montroeei but they htd aome Mttisfactioii in see-
ing his head etiick upon the tolbooth. The two
Eogliahmen, Ayloffe and Rumbold, who had ac-
companied Argyle from Holland, were both taken,
after a desperate ruistance, in which the; were
dreadfully wounded. Od the S€th of Jane, the
docton reported to the privy council tliat Rum-
bold "waa in hazard of death by hie wounda ;"
■o the council ordained the criiuiiuil court to ait on
him the nest morning, that he might not iM«vent
his public execution by hJH death."' This Richard
Rnmbold, maltster, and formerly master of the
Rye House, was an English yeoman of the true
breed, whose political creed was pithily expressed
ID a few homely words upon his trial. He did
not believe, he said, that God had made the
greater part of mankind with saddles on their
backs, and bridles in their mouths, and some few
booted and spurred to ride the rest He was
aentenced to be executed that same afternoon.
He waa diawn on a hurdle ; " for, laying aside
the ignominy, he was not able to walk, by reason
of the wounds he got when he resisted Raploch
and his men." The undaunted yeoman suffered
tMi times the pain of Argyle with as much hero-
urn. "He was certainly," says the cool and cir-
cumspect lawyer that narrates all the atrociUea
of his ezBCution,' "a man of much natural cour-
age. His rooted, ingrained opinion, waa for a re-
public Bgainst monarchy, to pull which down he
thought a duty and no sin. And on the scafibld
be began to pray for that party which he had been
owning, and to keep the three metropolitan cities
of the three kingdoms right ; and if every hair
of his head were a life, he would venture them
all in Uiat eauae ; but the drums were then com-
manded to beat"* Colonel Ayloffe was sent np
to London in the hope that some fuller discovery
of tlie plot, and who had, underhand, been con-
cerned in it, might be drawn from him. James,

a II. 725

who had au unroyal fondness for such prBctieea,
examined him in person ; but the colonel was aa
firm as the maltster, and the king got nothing
from him except a cutting repartee. " You know,
sir," said James, "that, if you desire it, it is in
my power to pardon you." "It is in your power,
but not in your nature,' replied Ayloffe. The
colonel was nephew, l^ marriage, to the lata
Chimcellor Clarendon i and it was thought that
the iieameBs of his rehitiunship to ttie king's chil-
dren (by Anne Hyde) might have moved his
raajea^ to pardon hira, which would have been
the meat effectual confutation of the bold repartee,
but he signed his death-warrant instead.' Some
other executions took place in Scotland on account
of Argyle's wretched incnreion ; and the Earl of
Balcatras was sent into Galloway, and the other
western shires, with a commission of fire and
sword against the "resetters" of the rebels. All
matters were conducted in the most savage and
brutal spirit. The old fends of the rival clans
were encouraged ; and hereditary enemies, scarcely
more civilized than the Bed Indians, were let
loose upon one another. Charles Campbell,
Ai^gyle's second son, was taken, lying sick of a
fever in Argyleshire; and the Marqnis of Athole,
the hereditary enemy of the Campbells, by virtue
of his justiciary power, resolved to hang him at
his father's gate at Inverary, though still in a
raging fever; but the privy council, at tlie inter-
cession of sundry ladies, including liis wife, Lady
Sophia Lindsay, who had contrived his father's
escape from Edinburgh Castle, stopped this exe-
cution, and ordered the prisoner to be brought to
Edinburgh. His brotlier, Mr. John Campliell,
and one of his cousins, finding that they could
no longer conceal themselves, went, disguised in
women's riding-habits, to my Lord Dumbarton,
and, falling at his feet, discovered themselves.
This general, who had some humanity, signed an
order constituting them prisoners in Stirling,

MfltilahLp (nd grsiltml*,
butwithUMDOrt

Indnd, it •nmi

pncnllu hllclt; of thti nun'i

I it thit DOifat ta ba ID—

itrr, be could not b« im-

ivqufincv of bji bippj

' tlUH glDDIVJ

too mil tttad

upcA him to bfl H piophot, Lt
11 corns, tqd niddaDlJ, Df whLdl

9 bi i^pMtad that wa biT* not

til loft ot jio— 1J.IH OD IntonstLng, ind that ovoa €i

A p*^ pvt ii nlflcnTod br tima ;

B othor, tlial «o bivo quit* anoD^h

■ (hat. <br aoiiatuiT and oqiulBiiQ

■I triala, law dmo haia aqoallad, nana oior

lioEarlof ArErie. Tbomoot pororfBlofall tempton,

■ b>d tb* folleit

pitoiioD OB hit woU-dkclplLiMd alnd. Angor Doold not nai
nta, tea oould not a)i|»l bim; ud if dluppulnlmont i
Indlinallaa at Ih< hshatlDiir of bla folluwai^ aod tha lupliwi

naaioD. Lot bimbawalEhadnnsr

caat Bailia,bawi11 not b« foimd. Id

n tha ohatitj of a ChfiitlaB, tho

oa of ■ pUilm, tha intapttr and fldallQ

<Aarln Jamaa Fox, Uulort tfOu Snt^

aj a inllajr and han|ed awbUa, ho waa let
I, and hb baut pollod rnt awl cutM ob
It brtba haBguan, oiTliig, "TliU U Iha

»Googie

HISTORY OF JiNGLANU.

I Civil

dMii.

with thp liberty of the whole castle, and trusted
them with the nurying of the order without any
guard, at which the secret committee were Borely
offended. Some of the common prisonera were,
by the privy council, delivered (o Mr. George
Scott of Pitlochy, and other planters in New
Jersey, Jamaica. &c. ; "but, considering thatBome
of them were more perverse in mincing the king's
authority tha.n otheni, they ord&ined thme, to the
uumbernf forty, to have a piece of their lug(eBr)
cut off by the hangman; and the women disown-
ing the king to be burned in the shoulder, that if
any of them returned they might be known by
that mark and hanged." '

Instead of six days, it was a month before the
lingering Monmouth set sail from the Tesel,
with about eighty officers and 160 followers of
various kinds, Scotch and English. Lord Stair,

Jamb. Dime op MoifMntmi — From ft Biie print

who had fled from the tyranny of James when
Dnke of York and commissioner iu Scotland,
did not join the expedition; but Fletcher of Sal-
toun, a fugitive tor the same cause, Sir Patrick
Hume, and that Lord Grey who had escaped
from the very gates of the Tower when arrested
for the Rye House Plot, embarked with Mon-
mouth. There is a suapicion, smouuting almost
to certainty, that James's son-in-law, the Prince
of Orange, encouraged nnderhand the expedi-
tions of Argyle and Monmouth.

Six days before Argyle'a capture, Monmouth
and his small baud landed at Lyme in Dorset-
shire. Having collected bis men on the sands,
the duke marched into the town and set up his
standard in the market-place, telling the people

> Laadtr a/ FoMntainkall. H« ailda. " wliUlta HtarllT wu ill

that he had come for no other object than to
secure the Protestant religion and extirpate Po-
pery. Allured by this assurance, and by his
agreeable person and maniiers, people began U>
flock to him in great numbers, demanding arms
and officers to command them. No time was lost
in spreading abroail " The Declaration of James,
Duke of Monmouth, and the noblemen, gentle-
men, and commons now in arma for the defence
of the Protestant religion, and the vindication of
the laws, rights, and privileges of England from
the invasion made upon them, and for delivering
the nation from the usurpation and tyrsnny of
James, Duke of York." This declaration isatbi-
buted to the hitter pen of Ferguson the preacher,
who had had several narrow escapes from tlie
gibbet and the block. It set forth that for many
years pastthe powerof the crown hod been applied
wholly to the destruction of the people's liberties
and the setting up of Popery; that parliaments
had>eeu infamously bribed and cormpted ; that
the municipal rights had been invaded and de-
stroyed , that corrupt sheriSs had procured cor-
rupt or slavish juries; that all upright judges
had been displaced ; and that all this evil had
been broaght about by the Duke of York. It
further charged James, Dnke of York, with the
great fire of London (it whs well they did not
charge him with the plague) ; with the shutting
up of the exchequer, whereby the people bad
been defrauded of X1,S00,000; with the shame-
ful breach of the triple league; with the Popi^
plot and the murder of Sir Edmondbuiy God-
frey; with the barbarous murder of Arthur, Earl
of Essex, in the Tower; with the most unjust
condemnation of William Lord Russell and Colo-
nel Algernon Sidney; and finally with poisoning
his own brother the late King Charles. The de-
claration called upon all patriots and Protestants
to have recourse to arms as the sole means of
redress; and, in concluding, it solemnly affinned,
in the name of the Duke of Monmouth, that,
though it had been and still was believed thst
he had a legitimate right to the three crowns, of
which he made no doubt to be able to give the
world full satisfaction, notwithstanding the means
used by the late king his father, upon Popish
motives, and at the instigation of the Duke of
York, to weaken and obscure it; yet such waa
the generosity of his own nature, and the love
he bore the nation, whose welfare and settle-
ment be infinitely preferred to what merely coo-
cemed himself, that he would for the present
waive all disputes as to that matter, and leave
his rights and pretensions and the settling of the
government to the wisdom and justice of a ptt>-
perly elected and free psrIiamenL Tliis wviv»l
of a most idle and exploded pretension was caI-
culated to make Monmouth many implacable

»Google

<!•]

rail in Holland aa in England; bull
that which bore moat againat him at the present
moment waa the notoriety of bis weakaeaa of
chamcter and the basenesa with which he had i
deserted and betnyed hia frienda on former oc-
caaiona. The adventure' had flattei-ed bimaelf
with hopes of being joined bj the Lorda Hac-
deafield, Brandon, Selamere, and other noble-
men and gentlemen of Whig principles; but none
appeared. Trenchard uf Taunton, who waa after-
wards aecretaiy of stat« to King William, fled
into Holland instead of going, as he had pro-
mised, to Uonmonth; and even Wildmau, that
wild plotter who had escaped with difficulty from
the Bye House Plot, failed in his appointment.
With money the adventurer was wholly nnpro-
vided, and Jiia aupply of anna was very deficient.
But the yeomanry and peaaantry of the west
were enthusiaatic, and a man of more military
genius and courage might have done wonders
with the first beat of tliia enthuaiaam. One of
James's favourites, the IVench Earl of Fever-
sham, had throwu a few regular troops into
Biidport. Monmouth detached about 300 men
t4i storm that town, which they did with admii^
able spirit. But Lord Orey, who whs intrusted
with the command, deserted his men at the first
onset, and, galloping to Lyme, carried the news
of a defeat, when hia party had in reality ob-
tained a victory. Monmouth, aatoniahed, ex-
claimed to Captain Matthewa, " What shall I do
with Lord QreyT Matthewa replied like a sol-
dier—" Yon are the only general in Europe that
would ask such a question.' The adventurer,
however, dared not venture to offend the man of
greatest rank and property be hiul with him;
and even after this disgraceful exhibition, he
intrusted Grey with tlie command of his cavahy.'
But after thus trusting the worst man with him,
he lost Ilia best man by a quarrel in ths camp
over which lie had no control. This waa Flet-
cher of Saltoun — a man equally able vitfa sword
and pen, a soldier and scholar, an otatcor and
statesman, with notions far above the low level of
the age in which he lived. One Dare of Taunton,
in a dispute about a horse, not only nsed very in-
sulting languagv, but also mads nse of his cane;
upon wbictk the faigh-spirited Scot presented hie
pistol and shot bim dead on the spot. Dare's
townsmen and followers demanded vengeance;
•nd Monmouth was obliged to dismiss Fletcher,
and to have him smuggled on board ship. The
catastrophe was, of coone, attended by other bad
consequences. Nevertheless, on the ISthof June,
foDT days after his landing, the duke marched
from Lyme with a force which had increased
near 3000 men. He passed through Axminster,
and encamped in a good position between

town and Chard, in Somersetshire. On the 16th
he was at Chard ; and from that place he pro-
ceeded to the pleasant town of Taunton, where
the Protestant Dissenters were nnmerous and
enthuaiafltic, and the king and hia masses held
abhorrence. ATI classeB of the inhabitanta
welcomed him aa a deliverer sent from heaven.
Twenty-six fair young maidens of the best fami-
lies of all the town and the dean of Taunton
presented him with colours and emblems, and
with a Bible, kneeling at hia feet as they gave
them. The course of his life had been neither
very moral nor very devout, but Monmouth
~ 'ned the holy book, and said that he had come
defend tlie truth contained in it, and to seal
with hia blood if there was occasion. EVom
thus taking the title of " Defender of the Faith,"
a part of the atyle-royal, it was but a atep to
take the title of king; and this, either through
iwn impatience or the advice of evil connsel-
lorfl, like Orey and Ferguson, Monmouth did at
Tanntou, on ths SOth of June. At the same
t he wrote to the Duke of Albemarle (the
and successor of Monk), who had collected
militia to oppose him, intimating that it was
his royal will and pleasure that he should desist
from all hostility against him and his loving
subjects, and repair immediately to his royal
camp, where be would not fiul of meeting with
a very kind reception. The alternative was, of
course, treason and its penalties against Albe-
marle and all in arms under his command. AJbe-
e sent hia answer addressed " For James
Scott, late Duke of Buccleuch.* He told him in
very homely language that whenever they met,
he doubted not the justice of his cause would
sufficiently convince Monmouth that he had bet-
ter have left this rebellion alone, and not have
put the nation to so much trouble. On the Slat
of June the invader declared Albemarle a rebel,
traitor, &c.' Several reasons were urged for
Monmouth assuming the title of king,* but there
were indisputably many and much more cogent
reasons against that vain-glorioua assumption.
Of those who followed him, or favoured him in
secivt, many still worshipped the hereditary
rights of kingship, and not a few retained a lin-
gering and desperate affection for repnbliaui in-
stitutions.* Moreover, the partizans of the Prinos
of Orange, who were already pretty numerous in
Eugland, considered it aa an un|nrdonable in-
fringement of tlie rights of James's eldest daugh-
ter, Mary, Princess of Orange, who, by birth and
by asBured Protestantism, atood indiaputablynext

The nobilityand wealthy gentry still stoodaloof.

»Google

728

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil amd UiLrrABT.

Not a aingle nobleman repaired to his Htaudard.
Yet, still indulging in one ot the worst preroga-
tiTEB of rof&itj, Monmouth proclaimed all the
memben of the parliament then sitting as trai-
tors. On tb« SSd of June he advanced from
Taunton to ftridgewater, where he was pro-
claimed a second time. Hare be diapoaed bis
forces into six regiments, and formed two toler-
ably good troops out uf above 1000 horae that fol-
lowed him. But still none of the grandees either
joined him or sent him money and arms. EVom
Bridgewater he marched to Olastanbnry, and
tbenca to Welle, where he was again proclaimed.
He resolved to cross the Mendip Hills, and to
push forward for Bristol, hoping to take that im-
portant city by a aoup de main, or to be admit-
ted into it by the zealous Prot«stanI inhabitants;
but after advancing as far as Eeynsham, he
Ix^ian a retreat, in the course of which he was
sorely haraased by a small body of the king's
dragoons. Bath shut ita gates in Us face, and
treated hia herald with great barbarity. Mon-
mouth then wheeled about for Philips- Norton,
hoping to strengthen himself by deserters from
the several bodies of county militia that were
hovering round him under the commands of the
Dukes of Albemarle, Somerset, and Beaufort.
There was a popular rising in his favour at
EVome; but the Earl of Pembroke, entering that
town, disper«ed the rabble rout, and threw a
damp upon the spirits of the peasantry. By this
time, however, the chill bad reached the never
over-bold or confident heart of Monmouth him-
self, and at Philips-Nortou he held down his
head and complained bitterly of broken promisee
andawantof resolution. On themomingof the
S7th of June, he was roused by a brisk attack
of the royalists, led on hy his half-brother, the
joung Duke of Grafton, another of the late king's
illegitimate brood. The engagement ended in
the retreat of Qrafton, who lost forty men, and
who was nearly taken prisoner himself ; but
Monmouth, on the other side, lost several of his
best officers. Feveraham then came up to fight
one of the moet ridiculous battles that were ever
fought by Suglishmen. He cannonaded Mon-
mouth, and Monmouth him, for the space of eii
honra; but they kept at such long shot, and fired
•0 badly, that Monmouth lost only one man, and
Feversham not one. It was, however, the royal-
ist general that beat the retreat. Monmouth,
inBt«iad of harsning his rear, lit a great fire, and
then, under cover of the smoke and of night,
marched away to Frome. Here he first heard
certain news of the ruin of Argyle. Some of his
followers now f»oposed that he and hie ofRcera
should leave the insurgent army to shift for
itaelf, and flee back to the Continent. Monmouth
entertained this pusillanimous and dishonourable

project; but, when submitted to his council of
officers, it was condemned by all except one, ami
was perticularly inveighed against by the re-
creant Lord Grey, Yet, although the adven-
turer had agreed to remain in England, he knew
not unto what part of it to betake himself. On
the Ist of July he was at Wells, on the 3d he
was at Bridgewater, and there, on the morning
of the fith, accounts were brought him of the
doae approach of Feversham, who had beenooD-
siderably reinforced. He then began to make
preparations for a retreat into the counties of
Shropshire and Cheshire; but on the afternoon
of the same day he resolved to fight Feversham,
who had encamped upon Sedgemoor, apparently
with little order. A night attack saggevted itself.
The troops were summoned to the rendesvoas
in the castle field at Bridgewater, and by eleven
at night they were formed and put upon the
march without beat of dnim. The command of
the horse was still intrusted to Lord Grey, who
was to make the onslaught. Grey rode on boldly
enOQgh until he came to a diteh ; for, though there
were no entrenchments round the camp, Utere
was a broad diteh, which served as a drain to the
moor, and of which no mention had been made
hy the unskilful countrymen who had surveyed
thegroundfor Monmouth. Theattackingcavairr
were brought to a halt, the slumbering royalists
were roused by the noise, a loose fire was opened
across the diteh, and Grey in a very short time
turned his back. Feversham mounted his hcHve,
and advanced his foot and artillery to the inner
edge of tlie diteh. Day soon b^n to dawn,
and before the sun had well risen, the royalist*,
both horse and foot, sallied from their positioD
on Sedgemoor, and, crossing the ditch, fell upon
the insurgents' flank and rear. These victims were
for the most part armed with rustic implementa,
and those who had guns bad soon no powder,
for the driver* drove aivay the ammunition
waggons after the cavalry. Notwithstanding all
these disadvantages the poor peasants fought moat
bravely with the butt ends of their mnakete, or
with their scythes and forks, and tiiey continued
to Sght long after Monmouth had abandoned
them. At the height of the action Lord Grey
rode up to the cont«mptibIe pretender, and told
him that all was lost; and forthwith Monmouth
rode off the field with Grey and a few other offic«r«i,
leaving the poor enthusiasts, without orden or
instructions, to be mssaacred by a pitiless enemy.
Fifteen hundred were killed and SOO made pri-
soners; but they had fought so stoutly that the
loss of the royalists was also very considerable^*
" Now," says Barillon, the attenUve reporter of
these events, "alt tht tealoiu Prottttatita triU ptrt
thnrhop« in tK» Prinm of Oranff».'

• JlaipK' DaiTfHtfU; i

»Google

A.D 168S.] JAM]

Orey, who never had a peasiuit'a maiily heart,
was taken in the di^niae of a peasant; and in
the samediBguiBeMoDDiouthwaafunndinsdirtj
ditch, half buried under fern and nettles. Upon
him were found euiiident {voof of hia weak
and frivolona character. These were papers and
bocks, one of which was a manuscript of spells,
charma and conjurations, songs, receipts, pre-
scriptions and prayani, all written with his own
hand. Utterly prostrated in body and in mind,
he wrote an imploring letter to the nnlorgiving
king, and another to Catherine of Braganza, the
widow of Chsrles II. On the very day of their
arrival in the capital, both Monmouth and
Grey were carried to Whitehall, and introduced,
not both together, but separately, ' to the king
in the apartment of ChilHnch, the minister of
Monmouth's father's pleasures and debancheries.
Jsmea was attended by no one except Sunder-
land and Middleton; and the precise particulars
of what passed can never be ascertained. The
anns of the prisoners were pinioned; and, if we
' may believe the memoirs drawn up from James's
own notes, Monmouth abjectly crawled upon his
knees to hug those of his majesty. From the
presence of the hard-hearted king, Monmouth
was conveyed to the Tower. On his way he
implored Lord Dartmouth, who escorted him,
to intercede for his life; but that nobleman an-
swered that he had put himself ont of the reach
of mercy by assuming the royal title, A bill of
attainder, which had been hurried through pni^
liament on his first landing, was held to snper-
•ede the necessity of any kind of trial, and his
execution was fixed for the next day but one.
On the morrow — the I4th of July — he wrote
another mean letter to the king, praying for some
diort respite. It is said that in this letter he
represented "how tuefid ht would and might be if
kit vtajaty mould be pleated to grant Aun hU
ti/4.' He could only bare been useful to James
by bstiaying his own friends, or by leading into
some new snares other men that were obnoxious

to the tyrant. But the king sternly denied even
Uie respite. According to the king's statement
in his memoire, Monmouth refused to see his
wife, the great heiress of Buceleuch, while ac-
cording to Bishop Burnet and others she posi-
tively refused to see him, nnless in presence of
witnesses. Burnet says that they met and parted
very coldly. Dalrymple states that he wrote a
third letter U> the king, in which he warned his
majesty against his intriguing minister Sander-
land, and that Colonel Blood, and that brave's
son, who then held some office in the Tower, got
poHsesHion of the letter before it could be carried
lo the king, and carried it to Sunderland, who
ilestroyed it. Burnet and sevei-al others agree
in stating that the wretched captive believed, on
Vol. ir.

S 11. 729

the authority of a fortune'teller, that if he out-
lived the ISth he was destined for great things.
For the sake of bis legitimate children, who had
been clapped up in the Tower, he signed a paper
renouncing his pretensions by birth to the crown.
As long as he fancied there was any hope of life
he was weak and unsettled : hut when he was
convinced of his inevitable doom, he, according
to every account, collected his energies to die
like a man. He passed the night of the 14tb
with Turner, Bishop of Ely, and Ken, Bishop of
Bath and Wells, who, at an early hour on the
morning of the fatal ISth, were joined by Br.
HooperandDr.Tennisan. The two bishops teased
snd tormented rather than comforted him; nor
does it appear that the two doctors were mnch
more considerate of the feelings of a dying man,
or more sensible of the monstrosity of the poli-
tico-religions dogmsB which the church in an evil
hour had taken to her bosom. " Certain it is,"
says Mr. Fox,"thatnoue of these holy men seem
to have erred on the side of compassion or com-
plaisance to their illustrious penitent.* Besides
endeavouring to convince him of the guilt of his
connection with his beloved Lady Harriet, of
which he could never be brought to a due sense,
they eeem to have repeatedly teased him with
controversy, and to have been far more solici-
tous to make him profess what they deemed the
true creed of the Church of England, than to
soften or console his sorrows, or to help him
to that composure of mind so necessary for hia

At ten o'clock, on the morning of the Ifith,
Monmouth was put into the carriage of the lieu-
tenant of the Tower. The two bishops went in
the carriage with him, and one of them told him
that their controversy was not yet at an end, and
that upon the scaffold be would be expected to
make some mors satisfactory declsrations. They
soon arrived at the destined spot on Tower-hill.
He descended from the coach and mounted the
scaffold with a firm step. The bishops followed
him. A loud murmur of sighs and groans went
round the assembled multitude, and by degrees
sank into an almost breathless silence. He sal-
uted the people, and stud that be should speak
little; that he came to die,and should die a Pro-
testant of the Church of England. Here he was
interrupted by one of the bishops, who told him
that, if he was of the Church of England, and
true to his profession, As miut admtndedge th«
doctrine of m^tf-retittanix to be true: and wlien
they could not prevail upon him to sdopt this
political article of divinity, they, both of them,
baited him with arguments and remonstrances,
which, however, had no effect. To silence them
on this point, and to defend the reputation of the
lady he loved, Monmouth spoke of Lady Harriet

m

,v Google

730

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cjy

D MlLITARr.

Wentworth, calling her a wtman of virtue and
honour, ftcd insiatiDg that their connection was
inoocent and honest in the sight of Ood. Hera
Gosling, one of the aberifis, who did not reflect
opon the domestic ammgemente, not merelj' of
the late, but of the present king, whoM mia-
Upases -wera probably among the spectators,
mdelj interrupted the dake bj asking if he had
ever been married to the lady Harriet. Mon-
mouth was silent; but the biahope again called
npon him for particular acknowledgment and
confession. He referred them to the paper he
bad signed in the Tower.' The bishops told him
that there was nothing in that paper aboat re-
ristance, and iuhumanlj and indecentlj pressed
him to owB that doctrine. Worn out hy their
importunities, he said to one of tbem, "I am
come to die. — Pt»y, my lord!— I refer to my
p^>er." But tbeir zeal would not be silenced,
even by this touching appeal, which the victim
was heard to repeat from time to time as they
persevered in their inquisitorial office. They
were particularly anxious that he should call his
late invasion rebellious and at last he said alond,
"Call it by what name you please; I am sorry
for invading the kingdom; I am sorry for the
blood that has been shed, and for the souls which
have been lost by my means. I am sony it ever
happened." These words were echoed to the
people by Vandeput, the other sheriff, and then
the divines plied him with fresh exhortations to
atone for the mischief he had done by avowing
their great principle of faith and government.
Monmouth again regretted whatever had been
done amiss, adding, " I never was a man that de-
lighted in blood. I was as cautious in that as any
manwas. The Almighty knowsldlewithall the
joyfulness in the world." And here, if the bishops
had any bowels, they would have left their vic-
tim to themerciful axe. Butinsteadof so doing,
they expressed a doubt whether his repentance
were true and valid repentance or not. "If,"
Biud Monmouth, " I had not true repentance, I
should not so easily have been without the fear
of dying. I shall die like a Iamb." "Much,"
rejoined his persecutors, " may coma from oatn-
ral courage." " No," replied Monmouth, " I do
not attribute it to my own nature, for I am as
fearful as other men are: but I have now no fear,
as you may see by my face. There is something
within which does it; for I am sure I shall go to
Ood.* " My lord," said they, " be sure upon good
grounds I Do you repent of ail your sins, known

■ It WW In ths ftilloirmB wonli :~" 1 deolHrn thtt tho tills oT

ioOtttl pot oj hud Ik

or unknown, confessed or not confessed — of all
tJie sins which might proceed from error of judg-
ment!" He replied that he repented in genenl
for all, and with all his soul. " Then," said Ihe
bishops, "may almighty Ood, of his infinite
mercy, foi^ve yon ! But here are great num-
bers of spectators; here are the sheriA who re-
pa«aent the great city, and in speaking to them
you speak to the whole city : make some satisfac-
tion by owning your crime before them.' Mon-
mouth was silent Then the churchmen fell to
prayers, in which he joined with fervour and de-
votion. They repeated twice over the versiele in
the Liturgy, " O Lord, save the king," to which,
after some pause, he said "Amen." Monimmth
then began to undress himself. Even daring
this last sad ceremony tbe bishops molested him
anew. "My lord," said they, "you have been
bred a soldier; you will do a generous Christian
thing if you please to go to the rail and speak to
the soldiers, and say that here yon stand, a sad
example of rebellion; and entreat them and the
people to be loyal and obedient to the king."
At this the dying man waxed warm, and he said
in a hasty tone, " I have told you I will make no
speeches; I will make no speeches; I come to
die." But even this was not enough to silence
the bishops, who renewed their attack by saying
that the speech need not be a long one — that ten
words would be enough. Monmouth turned
away, gave a token to a servant for I«dy Har-
riet, and spoke with the executioner. Aa was
usual, he gave the beadsman some money, and
he then begged him to have a care not to treat
him so awkwardly as he bad done my Lord Kos-
sell. The headsman, who might be discomposed
by the very warning which the duke had given,
and who probably entertained the prevalent no-
tion of the sanctity of royal blood, fell into a fit
of trembling, and struck so faint a blow that the
victim, but slightly wounded, lifted up bis head
and looked him in the face. Two other blows
were almost equally ineflfeetnal; and then the
man threw down his axe in horror, citing out,
" I cannot finish this work.* But, being brought
to himself l^ the threats of the sheri^ he took
up the axe again, and, with two other strakea,
separated the head from the body. And thus
perished, in the thirty-sixth year of his age,
James, Duke of Monmouth. " He died,* says
Barillon, " with snflicient firmness, aa ^glisfa-
men general ly do."

It wan expected by moat men that the execu-
tion of Lord Qrey would closely follow that of
Monmouth; but Grey was rnipited for his nata-
ral life. As this was so marked an exception to
James's general rule, various reasons have been
assigned for it. It is said, for example, tbat he
had been piven, as the phraae then went, to my

»Google

AD. 1885.] JAM

Lord Rochester, one of the brother* of James's
drat wife, &ud that it was found bis estate was
so entailed that no forfeiture for treason could
prevent its descending to Grey's brother; and
that therefore his life was spared, that the gran-
tee Bocheater might have the bene6t of il.' That
caitiff, moreover, obeyed the command of James,
and wrote in the Tower " a Secret History," or
" a ConfeaaioD," in which he made discloaurea,
which, under the circumstances, are Dot entitled
to the slightest credit, respecting the Bye House
Plot, 4c.

lie French Lord Feversham, immediately
after the battle of Sedgemoor, had hanged up,
without any trial, twenty of his prisoners; and
Colonel Kirke, upon entering Bridgewater and
Taunton, had executed some nineteen in the
sajne manner. This Kirke had served for a long
time at Tankers, and, according to Burnet, had
become "savage by the neighbourhood of the
bEoora there." Hia regiment carried the stan-
dard they had borne in the war against the infi-
dels, which had upon it the lignre of a Iamb — the
emblem of Christian meekness; and hence, in
s^ irony, the people of Someraetshire called hia
plimdering and butchering soldiers " Kirke's
lamba." Poetry and tradition have both exag-
gerated and invented facts,' yet the authenti-
cated horrors committed by these "lambs" and
their leader were enormous. The chief service
in wliich they were engaged waa to search for
rebels, as well thoae that favoured and assisted
the combatants at Sedgemoor, as those who had
fought there. Their search waa directed by mer-
cenary spies and by personal enmities i for any
man in the west that wished to ruin another, had
but to denounce him to Kirka as a partizan of
Monmouth, and the "lambs "did the rest. Fever-
sham waa called up to court to receive thanks
and honours. Kirke had tiierefore the field to
himself. His love of money, however, somewhat
balanced and controlled his love of blood; and,
following the example of ministers and ma^s-
tratea, be sold pardons to many prisoners who
were rich enough to buy them at a high price.
His summary executiona, and all hia illegal pro-

ES ir. 731

ceedinge, were notorious in London, and excited
disgust and comment; yet the king, through Lord
Sunderland, informed Kirke that he waa " very
well satisfied with hia proceedings;"' and, subse-
quently, this officer declared that hia severitiea
fell far short of the orders which he bad reoeived.
Some allowance might be made for the posaiona,
and habita, and ignorance of the soldiery, but it
was soon found that lawyers like Jeffi^ys could
commit far greater atrocities than the military.

Fourotber judges— Montague, the chief-baron,
Levinz, Watkins, and Wright— were joined in
commission with the lord chief-justice, who bad
recently been raised to the peerage under the
title of Baron Jefireys of Wem.' From having

Jums Juisiift— Fnn ■ Has print ulUr Kodln

troops at his command, it was said that the loni
chief-justice had been made a lieutenant-general;
and, ^m the whole character of the circuit, it was
nick-named " Jefireys' campaign " — a name which
the king himself bad the folly and brutality to
give it in writing to the Prince of Orange.* The
sufi'ering people in the west etitl more correctly
caUed the circuit " the bloody asaize." Jeffreys

Lt trrhll

I at RoGhHIor h>d £10.000 of klD : otbin
ll« wu Ukfl'lH DbllgRi lo till nil hs kne

■ In BiOtt to the coniictloo of othert. b
a, Uul iwbodj ■hontil d» u)lim fala oldim

clAMtJt (bough tb« popotu- tndition itiU pnTkiLi at '
' la oIlHr >lai|K[otica SaadarUud o«uond Klrknr

fDo, &U thing! bdng TV7 qoiat ftt prttent hen, ILwsh tlio
PwobjtoriiUt wai npabllesn put; m rtvil Tmy bmj, ud han
u much mind to nbal igBlB ■■ orer. LonI ohM-Jwliao u

»Google

732

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Cmi. AND MlLFTART.

(the other judges were mere ciphers) took the
field on the 27th of August, at Winchester, where
hia whole fury was directed againat an aged
imd infirm woman. This was Mrs. Alicia Lisle,
widow of Mr. Ijele, one of the Commonwealth
judges of Charles L, whose murder in Switzer-
land t^ rojralist assaiuns has been recorded.'
She was charged with having given shelter in
her honse, for one night, to Hickes nnd Nel-
thorpe, two fugitives from Sedgemoor^" an ofiice
of hunumitf ," Bays Sir James Mackintosh, " which
then was and still is treated as high treason hy
the law of England." She had no counsel to as-
Nst her; ahe waa so deaf that she could very
imperfectly bear the evidence, and so lethargic
from advanced age, aa frequently to slumber at
the bar where the remnant of her life waa called
for. Her atrocious sentence waa, that, according
to the old law relating to female traitors, she
should be burned alive on the afternoon of that
very day. The clergy of the cathedral of Win-
chester bad the rate merit of int«rfering with
this monetrouB decree, and they succeeded in ob-
taining a respite for three days. During this
interval powerful and touchingappticationswere
made to the king; the aged victim waa obnoxious
on account of her huaband, who had been aent to
■ bloody grave twenty-one years ago; but testi-
mony was borne to her own loyalty or exceeding
humanity : the Lady St. John and the Lady
Abergavenny testified " that ahe had been a fa-
vourer of the king's friends in their greatest
extremities during the late Civil war," among
othere,of these ladies themselves; and upon these
grounds, as well as for her general behaviour,
they eameatiy recommended her to pardon. Her
son, so far from taking aims for Monmouth, had
served in the royal army against that invader;
she herself had often declared that she shed more
tears than any woman in England on the day of
Charles I.'s execution; and it was a fact notori-
ona to all that, after the Restoration and the at-
tainder of Mr. Lisle, his estate had been granted
to her at the intercession of Chancellor Claren-
don, for her excellent conduct during the preva-
lence of her husband's party. As it was perfectly
well known to the friends of the aged victim that
money was more powerful at court than mercy,
.£1000 were promised to Lord Feversham for a
pardon; but the king declared to thi^avourite
that he would not reprieve her for one day. A
petition was then presented from Mrs. lisle her-

self, praying that, in consideration of her ancient
and honourable descent, she might be beheaded
instead of being burned alive. A careful search
was made for precedents, and the utmost extent
of the royal mercy waa to sign a warrant for the
beheading, which was performed at Winchester
ou the 2d of September.*

From Winchester, with a timn of guards and
prisoners at his heels, Jefireys proceeded on to
Salisbury, and thence (having increased his train)
he went to Dorchester, and there hoisted his
bloody flag.' The fierce nature of the chief-jus-
tice was made fiercer by an agonizing disorder,
which was probably brought on and inereaaed
by excess of drinking. In writingto Sunderinnd
from Dorchester on the l€th of September, he
says, " I this day began with the rebels, and have
despatched ninety-eight; but am at this time ao
tortured with the stone, that I must beg your
lordahip'a intercession to his majesty for the in-
coherency of what I have adventured to give hia
majesty the trouble of.** But if honours and
promotions could have soothed the pangs of dis-
ease, Jeffreys waa not without those lenitives.
On the Sth of September Lord - keeper North
departed from life and ofBce together; and three
days after — that is, between the execution of
Mrs. Lisle at Winchester and his arrival at Dor-
chester^ — he was raised by hia applauding and
grateful sovereign to be lord-chancellor. At Dor-
chester this chancellor and chief-justice, to save
time, began to declare that if any of the prisonerv
would repent and plead guilty, they should find
him a merciful judge; but that those who pnt
themselves upon tlieir trial should, if fonod
guilty, be led to immediate execution. In all,
eighty persons were hanged at Dorchester in tbe
course of a very few days: the remaindef were
tran8port«d, severely whipped, or imprisooed.
Those transported were sold as slaves, and the
bodies of those that were executed were quar-
tered and stuck npou gibbets. Jeffrie then
proceeded to Exeter, where another red list of
S43 prisoners was laid before him. He then
went into Somersetshire, the centre of tbe late
insurrection, where, at Taunton and Wells, nearly
1100 prisoners were arraigned for high treason:
1040 confessed themselves guilty, only six ven-
tured to put themselves ou their trial, and £3%
at the very least,' were executed with asl«unding
rapidity. In oi-der to spread the 'terror more
widely, and to appal the neighbours, friends, and

tortand with thg •!<>» If I ftnfM to nipraTi inr»l^ R>7 d<

ibriM.

loir], your nan blthfullj d«><<t«l «Bir«it, tc - Simde

t«i,uHr

JD replT, ™«™a Ih. rhirfjnitl» tb.t th. Hn, ippnind

'Thenimetora

,v Google

i-elativM of the victims, theae execuliona took
place in thirty-eix towna and villages. The drip-
ping heads and limba of the dead were affixed
in the moat ooDspicuoua places— in the streets, by
the highwajs, over the town-halls, and over the
verr churches devoted to a merciful God. " All

Jsff^n' TvUvnoB di

the highroads of the countiy were no longer to be
travelled, while the horroTs of so many quartera
of men, sad the offensive stench of them, lasted.''
Sunderland apprised Jeffreys of the king'a plea-
sure to bestow 1000 of the convicts on several of
his courtiers, and 100 or 200 on a favourite of
the queen, upon condition that the persona re-
ceiving them thus as a gift should find security
that the priaonera should be enslaved for t«Q
years in some West India ialand, where, as James
must have known, field-labour was death to
Europeans. The chancellor remonstrated with
his majesty, directly, against this gtvipg away
of the-prisoners, who, he said, would he wori,h
;£10 or £\S a-piece.' In a subaeqnent letter from
Bristol, he yields to the proposed distribution of
the convicts, boasts of his victory over that
" most factious city,* and pledges hia life, and
that which was dearer to him, his loyalty, " that
Taunton and Bristol, and the county of Somerset
too, should know their duty, both to God and
their king, before he leaves them."

"Iba Blond; Aitim,'*

■ItniBH, tbongh Tinlflnt men, utd ^t«i] ta «ijia«nltDn. bave

Blondr Atiiia. whtob wu pnbllahad iftar th> RtTolntkm, nyi.
" Natbicig mmld bs llksr ball Ihui tfaiH puu : nuldnnii bi»
lug, cBTcuHi boiling, pitch ind tu iraikUng (ml gloirmg.
blooclj limbs boliing, uid Ukring, and mmngliDg."

I. datod Tom

S II. 733

With the evidence of these letters alone, we
may confidently reject the dreama of those who
pretend that James was uuauquainted with his
judge's manner of proceeding; and, if otherproofa
were wanting to show the want of heart and feel-
ing in this wretched prince, they are assuredly
to be found in the Oatetltt
at the day, that report his
prograases and amusements.
He went to Winchester soon
after the iniquitous execu-
tion of Hra. Lisle, and there
he remained, diverting him-
self with horse-tacea daring
the hotteat part of Jeffreys'
campaign. But there ia still
further an indisputable
proof of Jamea'a approbation
of Jeffreys' proceedings; for
when (on the 30th of Sep-
tember) that precious new
chancellor returned to court,
his promotion was announc-
ed in the Oaiette with an un-
usually emphatic pan^yric
on his person and services ;
and some months after thia,
when JefTreys had brought
on a dangerous attack by one of his furious de-
bauches, James expressed great concern, and de-
clared, with perfect truth, that auch another mau
would not eaaily be found in England. Besides,
wherever the king was directly and penonally
concerned, there waa the aame unflinching sever-
ity. By a warrant signed by the king, Elizabeth
Gaunt, of Wapping, was burned alive at Tyburn.
The offence with which the poor woman was
charged waa, having compassed the king's death
by favouring the escape into Holland of one Bur-
ton, accused of participation in the fiye House
Plot,aDd^vingsuccour to the same Burton after
the battle of Sedgemoor; and the principal wit-
ness against her was the execrable Burton him-
self, whose life she had twice saved.

In London, as in the west, corruption and
bribery were the only checks to infernal cruelty.
Thus Prideaux, who was thrown into the Tower
by an arbitrary warrant upon mere suspicion,
bought himself off with £1500 ; and Hampden,
still in priaoQ for hia misdemeanour, put aside
the new and capital charge of high treason by
paying X6000, to be divided between Jeflreya and
Father Petre, the king'a confessor and chief ad-
viser. The queen's maida of honour, as pocket-
mouey, were allowed to Lake from £50 to ;eiOO
from each of the fair damsels of Taunton who
had presented Monmouth with flags and a Bible,
and who thus were saved. In consequence of the
auapicions of the court, and of the c"

»Google

734

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil and Miutabt.

made bj Lord Gre^, the Lorda Brandon, Dela-
mere, and Stamford were proceeded against for
high treason. Brandon was convieted by perjured
witoessesj but, having a aiater-in-law in favour at
court, he escaped, not being, however, enlarged
upon bail till fourteen months, nor receiving hiB
pardon till tvo years after his trial. Delamere,
who waa tried before the Lord-steward Jeffreys

and thirty peers, was unanimously aequitted,
though the falsehood, and infamy, and perjury
of those who swore against him were not more
conspicuous than the same vices in the evidence
upon which many obscurer persons had been
hanged and quartered. Stamford took the benefit
of a subsequent amnesty, and thus cacaped the
forfeiture ot a traitor.

CHAPTER VI.— CIVIL AND MILITARY HISTORY.— A. D. 1685—1688.

Amgaot dsoUntion ot JamM (o liii pu-liameat— His resolatjon to dispeDse with tbe test act— Bsdituioe of
parllammt — Jmuh pron^uas it— Bavocation of tha Edict of NaDtaa — Efforta of Jsmaa to make oaiiT«rla to
Foparj—Tha conrb ubal bf whioh tha govammoDt is maiuiged — Papiata introdnced into office — Alarm of the
PTnteatuit elergjF — Quarrel of Jamea with oartuq of tha biahopa — He eodeavoun to obtun tha coDtrol of the
aeiuiiiariea and achooli — Hlb uttempta to introdoaa Fipiata into office in the univerrity ot Oxford — Bold
reai>t*Dce of tha univenity — Jamea luipeaditbe penal lawsagaiaat NoDcODfonnutaand ftpiats— Hia maaaura
provaa nj^popular uid inaffectipe — -The ambaaiador of the pope publicly introdHoed at Windaor^ — FopUh
eoolenaatioa publicly coaaecnted aad inatalled ia office— Junea'a hopes ot an heir— New decIaratioD of indnl-
genca ordered to be read 'from the pnlpit— The clergy refnae to comply — Kemonatianoe of the eereD biahopa
oo the ■object with Junes— Their refusal to obey hia order — He reaolvea to prosecnte them — They rcAae to
plead on trial, aod are aent to the Tower — Their trial — Verdict returned of "Not guilty" — Popular triumph
at the acquittal of tha biahopa — A aon bom to Jamea — ^The royal birth of tha child denounced aa an impoatura
— The hopee of the nation directed to tha Prince of Orange— He ia invited to land in England — Hia prepan-
tiona for the purpose — Cowardice and infatuation of James — He attempts to conciliate the Proteetanta by
conoeaaions — His endeavoiiTa to estabUsh the verity of his son's royal birth — Embarkation of the Prioce of
Oraage from Holland— He is driven back by a atorm — Interview of Jamea with the bishops — Their ambignooa
uuweia and exonaea — Tha Prince of Orange lands at Torbay — Deaertion Ot the military adheranta of Jamea —
He ia deaarted by hii childran — Plight of the king, queen, and infant piioca — Jaaiea aneated by a mob at
Sheppey— Riot ia London upon tha king's flight— Fiovinoaal government catabliabed ii
returuB to London— He ia indaced once more to flee — His safe arrival in Frajice.

E Marquiaof Halifax hod remiuned
n the ministry during all the atro-
nties of Jeffreys' campaign, sitting
it the council-board with Sunder-
and, with Rochester (whose vices
if drinking and swearing did not
prevent his being considered the head of the
high-church party), and with Godolphin, whose
busineaa habits were held to be indispensable.
Halifax, however, had been "kicked up stairs"
into the sounding but empty office of president
of the conncil, and now it was resolved to de-
prive him of office altogether, for James suspected
him of a determination to oppose the repeal of
the test and habeas corpus acts, and he had not
penetration enough to perceive the danger he ran
in driving that crafty and able politician to ex-
tremities. Nor would t}ie despotic blunderer
delay this dismissal till the approaching session
of parliament should be over. That session, as
appointed, opened on the 9tb of November. Up-
lifted with hia mighty doings during the recess,
aud with the appearance of universal timidity

and submission, Jamea now presumed that the
parliament of England would bend before him,
and, like the parliament of Paris, content them-
selves for the future with the honour of receiving
his commands and registering his decrees. Aft«r
speaking briefly of the storm that was past, he
told them, in a dictatorial style, that the militia,
which had hitherto been so much depended on,
was an inefficient force, and that there was no-
thing but a standing army of well-disciplined
troops that could secure the nation at home and
abroad. "And," continued he, " let no man take
exception that noin there are tome officers in this
armynot qualified, according to the late teBta,for
their employments." Without this declaration,
both lords and commons knew very well that he
had commissioned Catholic lords to levy Catholic
troops against Monmouth, and, in the choice of
officers, had shown a marked preference for men
of the ancient religion. And now the old hatred
of Popery came in to revive the languishing cause
of civil liberty; and high churchmen and low
churchmen, Tories and Wh igs, became for a season

»Google

imited. The commons, in coming to & reaola-
tioD about a BDpply, voted ad addreaa to his
nutjeatj for the discbaige of all such officers aa
refused the Protestant test. James, in replj, said,
" Whatever you may do, I will adhere to all my
promises.'' The house was thrown into a fermeDt;
and Mr. John Kok, member for Derby, said, " I
hope we are Englishmen, and not to be frightened
out of our duty by a few high words." But the
majority of the Englishmen ther^ committed him
to the Tower for bis honest, intrepid speech.
Still, however, with all their servile loyalty, they
were resolute about the Popish officers; aud the
lords showed equal or superior Eeal. The es-
minister Halihx led the van ^(lunet the court;
and Jeffreys, the chancellor and main manager,
wss checked in his high career of insolence and
arrogance, and made to crouch in the dust. Ou
the eleventh day of the session, James, disap-
pointed and furious, prorogued the parliament,
which never met agiun for the deapatoh of busi-
nesa; and the houses were deserted and silent
till they echoed his expulsion and dethronement,
as pronounced by the convention.

_ lano James had not obtained a siX'

A.D. lOOD. . . , . , .

pence from the late seBsion ; but,
for a time, he counted upou money from France.
His minister, Sunderland, accepted a French pen-
sion of as,000 crowns ; and, after some shnflBing,
and an attempt to save a sort of false pride and
dignity, the King of England tied himself to the
triumphal car of Lonis XIV., by which he made
his political existence absolutely incompatible
with that of his son-in-law the Prince of Orange,
and at the same time rendered himself doubly
odious to his Protestant subjects, as the ally and
tool of one who had waged a most pitilesa war-
fare ag^nst the Kef ormed religion in France ; for
it was just at this critical moment, when English-
men were filled with doubts and terrors as to the
intentions of their Popish king, that Louis re-
voked the tolerant Edict of Nantes,' and drove
many thousands of his Huguenot subjects iuto
exile. It was known at the time that James and
Father Petre were busily engaged in attempts to
convert many of the Protestants about court; and
with a standing army encamped upon Honnslow
Heath, and which kept still increasing, it was
reasonably apprehended that such zealots would
not always confine themselves to polemical orgu-
menta, persuasions, and promises. Sunderland
liod privately embraced Catholicism, and, in ap-
pearance, adopted all his master's partiality in
favour of Roman Catholics. Other converts,
both male and female, more openly proclaimed

"n» Gdin erf NuitH, whicfa U bM to bun b«n cocniwid h]r
bt grmt faWoriu Da TlKa, vh pa^ b; Rmtt IV. in tlie
arlSM. II<n>iDdiknlTnim(dbTl>iD<>][IV.,i>Dtha]Slh

s ri. 736

theirabandonment of the Protestant ffuth. Some
of these proceedings are a complete banquet to
the cynic. Jamee, like Louts XIV., reconciled
his breocbee of the seventh commandment with
his ardent religionism. His reigning mistresa
was Catherine Sedley, who had some of her
father's wit, though no pretendons to personal
beauty. She was installed at Whitehall, and
created Countess of Dorchester; but James and
his priests failed in converting her to Popery,
and the champions of the Protestant church did
not disdain to pay court to the orthodox mistress.
Rochester, that other pillar of the church, clung
to her; while his rival Sunderland made common
cause with the queen, who was jealous, and with
the confessor, who considered a mistress of such
decided Protestantism a very dangerous appen-
dage. Between them, the queen, confessor, and
prims minister prevailed upon the king to send
his mistress into Ireland, where a good estate
had been given to her. The convert Snnderland
then rose, and his rival Rochester sunk. The
ministry was, in fact, converted into a close cabal
of seven persons ; the king, Sunderland, lUher
Petre, and the Catholic Lords Beltaais, Powia,
Arundel, and Dover, who assembled sometimes
in Sunderiand's house, and sometimes in the
apartments of Chiffincfa of the back-stairs. Soger
PBlmer,Eart of Castlemaine hyrightof hia wife's
prostitution to the late king, was sent on an
embassy to Rome, and an ambassador from the
pope was openly received in London. After a
few preludes in the courts of law, where it was
endeavoured to convert the test act into a dead
letter, James, with blind and headlong haste,
proceeded to assert a dispensing, a suspending,
and a repealing power over all laws or acta of
parliament whatsoever, aud to put Catholics into
the highest civil and military offices, from which
the Protestants were dismiwed. By means of
yao vrarranfo writs, the corporations throughout
the kingdom were remodelled. Papists were ad-
mitted into all of tliem ; and Papists were made
lieutenants of counties, sheriffs, and justices of
the peace. In Scotland, the same measures were
resorted to; and the high-church Tory ministry
was dismissed to make room for one of an en-
tirely Catholic complexion. In Ireland, the Pro-
testants, who alone had been intrusted with arms,
were disarmed by l^rconnel. Indeed, in that
counttj, the scales were entirety tnmed; and the
Protestants were treated in alt things as badly
as they had been accustomed to treat the Papists
ever since the days of Elizabeth. Four thousand
Protestant soldiers were cashiered, stjipped of
their uniforms, and left to wander, hungry and
half naked, through the land. Their officers, for
the most part, retired into Holland, and gathered
round the Prince of Orange.

,v Google

736

HISTORY OF ENGLAND,

[CiVtL ADD MlUTABT.

All tills was too much for the eudur&tice even
of Tories and high churchmen; and, iu despite
of the dogma of paasivQ, obedience, the pulpits
begun to resound with wamingB and denuncia-
tioDS. To queuch the flame in its inhncj, James
{■sued letters mandator; to the bishops of Eng-
land, prohibiting the clergy to preach upon points
of controversy, and eatablishing an eccleaiasCical
commisaiou with more power than had been poa-
eessed hy the abomiDable conrt over which I^ud
presided.' But James could uot fill this court
with men of the same viewa. The Archbishop
of Canterbury (Sancroft) would not act at all ;
Dpon which the leas scrupulous Cart wright, Bishop
of Cheater, was put in his place. The other mem-
bers were Crewe, Sishop of Durham, who was
more than half a Papist ; Sprat, Bishop of Bo-
Chester, who preferred the king to the church;
Rochester, the head of the high-church party;
Sunderland, the concealed Papist; Jeffi-eys; and
Lord Chief-justice Herbert With this court,
such as it was, James ventured to issue a mandate
to Compton, Bishop of London (who had de-
clared boldly in the House of Lords sgaiost the
Popish standing army), to suspend Dr. Sharp,
who had preached in the pulpit against Popery
in general, Compton replied, through Lord Sun-
derland, that he could not legally punish Sharp
without hearing him in his own defence. Upon
this, the new commission waa put into play, and
tlie bishop himself was summoned before it.
Compton argued that the court waa illegal ; that
he was subject, in ecclesiaHtical matters, to his
metropolitan and sufiragans alone; that he was a
prelate of England, a lord of parliament, and
could be tried only by the laws of his country.
James ordered the commissioners to suspend him;
and, after some differences among themselves, the
Bishop of London was suspended accordingly.
Hochester,who is said to have affronted the king
in a personal conference and argument about the
merits of their respective religions, was turned
out of the commission and bis other offices shortly
after ; but he received a pension of £1000 a-year
on the post-ofSce, together with a regular grant
of au annuity of ;£1700 a-year out of the estate
of Lord Orey.* Even D'Adda, the pope's minis-
ter, saw clearly that James vas ruining hia cause

* Book! of tha pri*j couodl, u ol1«d bj DalJ7mpl«.

" Thtt dkmlHLm of tbe Iwo bntheiv It ■ ffr«t spoab In '
ralgD of Jvnm- Pmn thtt time It wu ojflar that wh^B
iHllr nnt*d ■■• Dot tibartr of ocmgclsnn taw ths msmban
bb own Dhurch, but liberty to penecDta thtt mflmben of ot:
chnnhn. Pntoodlng to abhor tntt, hs hndbimiaLf IrnpOM
tat. Ha thcmgbt It hHd. b» thotiglil li manitmu, tliu k
■Dd }ojtl manihoald bi Eii:ludiiil from tbs public Hrti« tol
Ibt baltif Ruiniiii Culholis : 7M ha hul blnualt toniKl out
— ■ loy^.,^,,

. Tliac

1; pubJic fundi^nmrr

1^ precipitation ; and the wary Italian informed
his court that men's miuda were embittered bj
the belief that Rochester bad been dismissed
because he would not turn Catholic, and that
there was a design for the extermination of all
Protestants.* Yet still James kept bis course,
and looked with satisfaction and pride to hia
encampment on Hounslow Heath, in which were
now inclosed 16,000 men, horse and foot.

A D 16fi" ^"^ °^ ^^ great objects was to
obtain the control of the seminaries
and schools. Of theee, the Charter-house in Loo-
don was a very important one ; and accordingly
he commanded the governors of that establish-
ment to admit into it one Andrew Popham, »
Papist, without test or oath. But the majority
of the governors, headed by the Duke of Ormond,
Compton, the suspended Bishop of London, and
the ei-minister Lord Halifax, reaisted the man-
date. Yet, after failing in this attempt, be de-
manded from the university of Oxford that they
should acknowledge an hereditary right in Father
Petre to name seven fellows of Exeter College ;
and from the univeraity of Cambridge the degree
of master of arts for one Alban Francis, a. Bene-
dictine friar. Both these learned bodies, in spile
of their recent declarationa of non-resistance, re-
sisted to the very utmost. The Oxford question
was referred to the courts of Westminster; but
the new ecclesiastical commission took up the
Cambridge case, and summarily deprived Pechell,
the vice-chancellor, of his office, and suspended
him from the mastership of Msgdalen College.
James then commanded the fellows of Magdalen
to elect as their master one Anthony Farmer, a
concealed Papist. The feltowi petitioned his
majesty; but finding him not to be moved, they
exercised their own undoubted right, and elected
Dr. Howe. The ecclesiastical commission declared
this election to be void; and then a new mandate
was issued to the college to elect Parker, Bishop
of Oxford, who had several qualifications wliidi
Farmer had not, but who was also suspected of
being a Papist in disguise. The fellows, with
unexpected spirit, stuck to the master of their
own choosing; and Howe exercised his authority
in spite of the ecclesiastical commission and the
king. In the course of a summer progress James

make up hit mlad lo Ins bli •on] or u> Ioh kk pUoo. Wlio
IndBsd oouia bapa to aUnd whm Ilia Bydt hud lUlBit Iligj
wsn the brotban -In-law of tbe king— thi nudm ind utonl
gnanlliini of hit childrao— h» Manila from auly Toutli— Ua
■teadr uUienDta Is ailmiitj and paril^htt ataaiaioae ■uruta

ralj^o - and ta thia onma ttiaj bad bfab diacoidedr Id freal

»Google

1.] JAMI

arrived tt Oxford, Bammoned the members of
MBgdalen into his presence, chid them for their
disobedience, and told them to go away and
choose the Bishop of Oxford, or else they should
certoialy feel the weight of his sovereign displeft-
enre. Here was a call upon passive obedience
from the very lipa of the Lord's anointed ; bnt
still the fellows insieted on their right, and an-
swered him respectfully but firmly. The tyrant,
astonished and enraged, issued a commission to
Cartwright, Bishop of Chester, Chief - justice
Wright, and Baron Jenner, to examine the state
of the college, with full power to alter the sta-
tutes and frame new ones. The rammissi oners
arrived At Oxford on the SOth of October, when
Cartwright thundered at the devoted college; but
Ifowe maintained his own rights, and the rights
of the body which had elected him, with deconim
tuid firmness ; and when, on the second day, the
commissioners deprived him of the presidency
and struck hia name off the books, he entered the
hall and boldly protested against all they had
done. The chief-justice bound him in .£1000 to
appear in the King's Bench; and Parker was put
into possesnon by force. Then a majority of the
fellows were prevailed upon to submit "as far
as was lawful and agreeable to the statutes of the
college." But the weakly, arrogant king would
not be aatisfied with this ; he insisted that the
fellows shonld acknowledge their disobedience
and repentance in a written submission. Upon
this the fellows withdrew their former submis-
sion, and declsred in writing that they could not
acknowledge they had done anything amiss. On
the 16th of November, Bishop Cartwright pro-
Hoimced the judgment of the commission in the
shape of a general deprivation and expulsion.
This was followed up, in December, by the sen-
tence of the eccleaiaatical commission, which in-
capacitated all and every the fellows of Magda-
len from holding any benefice or preferment in
the chnrch. James himself declared that he
would look upon any favour aliown to the fel-
lows as a combination against himself; but not-
withstanding hie threats, considerable collections
were made for them, and his own daughter, the
Frinceae of Orange, sent over £300 for their re-
lief; and in the end, though they obtained the
honours of martyrdom, they experienced little of
its sufferings.

But long before this result the king had issued
"adeclaration for liberty of conscience," by which
all the penal laws agunst Protestant Nonconfor-
mists as well ss Catholics were to be iwpended.'
But this power of suspending the laws "by prero-

■ Tin dHlmtioa can* oat
ISSr. To pnpun Iha waj lb
npmnd In much lodlxukd

■WHdbf pK

VOL.U.

th of April.

S II. 737

gative royal, and abtolKle pomer," was not to be
tolerated by any people pretending to freedom
and a constitution ; and it was understood by
nearly every Dissenting Protestant in the land,
that the Nonconformists were only coupled with
the Catholics for policy and expediency, and that
the toleration of the Catholics was only intended
as a preparatory step t« the triumphant establish-
ment of the Church of Rome, which had never
yet, in any European kingdom, totern ted the doc-
tiines and practices of any other church what-
soever. With remarkably few exceptions, the
large but disunited body of Dissenters rejected
the boon as a snare, and prepared to stand by
the lately persecuting but now threatened Epis-
copal chnrch ; and not only the result, in which,
as in all human affairs, there was much that was
accidental or unforeseen, but also the coolest rea-
soning on all the circumstances of the case, will
justify their preference, and prove that they acted
wisely and politically. When the declaration was
published, James told the pope's nuncio that he
had struck a blow which would make a great
noise; that, in a general liberty of conscience, the
Anglican religion would be the Urat to decline;
and the nuncio informed his court that the Estab-
lished church wns mortified at the proceeding;
that the Anglicans were "a ridiculous sect, who
affected a sort of moderation iu heresy, by a com-
post and jumble of all other persuasions, and who,
notwiUi standing the attachment which they boast
of having mainluined to the monarchy and the
royal family, have proved on this occasion the
most insolent and contumacious of men.*

On the 3d of July James obliged the timid
and more than half-unwilling ambassador of the
pope to go through the honours and ceremonies
of a public introduction at Windsor. Crawe,
Bishop of Durham, and Cartwright, Bishop of
Cliester, were ready instruments in this parade;
but the Duke of Somerset, the second peer of
the kingdom, who was selected to introduce
D'Adda, besought his majesty to excuse him
from the performance of an act, which, by the
laws of the land, was still considered an overt
act of treason. " Do you not know," said James,
" that I am above the law 1" The duke replied,
" Your majesty is so, but I am not." On the
day before this public reception the parliament,
which had been kept from meeting by repeated
prorogations, was absolutely dissolved. Nothing
was to be hoped from the enslaved law, from the
comipt and time-serving judges; the bishope
and the church, who would have assisted the
king in establishing a despotism if he had not
trenched upon their own rights, were left to head
the war against him. Nor can it be fairly said
that they look up arms upon slight provocation.
Four Popish biahop* were publicly conaecrated

»Google

738

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civi

0 MlLrTART.

ill the cluipel royal; were sent to their dioceaes
with the title of vicars apostolical; and their
pastoral letters were liceoEed, priated, and dis-
persed through the kingdom. The regular ctei^
of Rome, in the habita of their order, conatantlf
crowded the court aud its purlieus; and these
prieeta too soon forgot their recent danger and
Uiatrese, and became io many instaneeB . over-
conlident and insolent in their sudden prosperity.
Even iu those days there were Catholic Spaniards
that were no higots. . Ronqutllo, the Spanish
ambassador, ventured to represent to James the
danger of these procecdiugs; aud when asked
whether it waa uot the custom of his country
for the king to consult his priests and confessors,
lie replied " Yes; and for that reason our affaira
succeed so ill.'

Mary of £sl« had bad repeated miscarriages,
but bad never borne a living child to continue
and complete the great work of Catholic conver-
sion. But at last a pilgrimage made by the king
during the summer to St. Winifred's Well, in

St. Wniniiii'i Well.— From Ram'a North Wnlo.

Wales, and the votive gifts of the queen and her
mother to the shrine of Loretto, were supposed
to have had the desired effect, and on the 23d of
December, the queen's pregnancy was announced
iu the OazeUe, together with an order for a day
of thanksgiving for this distinguished national
lilnsing. But not merely the partixans of the
Prince and Princess of Orange, but nearly every
Protestant in England, dechkred from the be-
ginning, that a trick was planned to defraud the
PriuceiB Mary of her ri^ts ; and the proclama-
tion in the Oeaetta was tr«at«d with ribaldry and

indecent wit, which gave a fresh bittemeaa to
the t«mper of the king.

jjjoo On the 2"th of April, when the
public suspicion and alarm bad
reached their height, James not only published
a new declaration of indulgence, but also com-
mandod all the Protestant clergy to read it in
their churches. This was the spark that set
fire to the train. " By this," says the Princess
Anne, writing to her sister Mary in Holland,
"one may easily gueas what one b to hope for
henceforward, since the priests have so much
power with the king our father sa lA make him
do things BO directly against the laws of the land,
and, indeed, contrary to his own promisea.' The
majority of the clergy were resolute uot to read
the declaration. Archbishop Sancroft was sick,
but sis bishops— Lloyd of St Asaph, Keo of
Bath and Wells, Turner of Ely, Idke of Chi-
chester, Wbit« of Peterborough, and TreUwney
— on the evening of the IBth of May, knelt be-
fore the king at Whitehall and presented a peti-
tion. "This a my Lord of Canterbury's hand-
writing," said James angrily. And when he bad
read and folded up the paper he added, with
disdain and anger, " This is a great surprise to
me. I did not expect this from yov. This is a
standard of rebellion!' Lloyd, of 8t Asaph,
who was the boldest of the bishops, and who had
handed the paper to the king, replied, "We have
adventured our lives for your majesty, aud would
lose the last drop of onr blood rather than lift
up a Soger against you.* " 1 tell you,' rejoined
James, "that this is a standard of rebellion!*
Then Trelawney, of Bristol, fell upon hia kneea
and said, "Bebellion, sir! I beseech your majesty
not to say anything so hard against us. For
God's sake do not believe we are or ever can be
guilty of rebellion!'' [Now Lloyd and Trelaw-
ney, who "uttered these loud and vehement pro-
testations,' were the only prelates present who
harboured projects of decisive resistance.'] The
Bishops of Chester and Ely professed their un-
shaken loyalty, and were afterwards true to their
profession. James kept muttering, "Is this what
I have deserved from the Church of England ? I
will remember you who have signed this paper!
I will keep this paper! I did not expect this.
I will he obeyed ! " " God's will be done !*
ejaculated Ken, Bishop of Bath and Wells, in
a low voice. " What's that)" exclaimed tlie en-
raged king. Ken and his brethren only repeated,
" God's will be done.' James then dismissed
them with violent and incoherent language. On
the morrow, aa he waa on his way to mass, he
met the Bishop of St. David's. "My lord,"
cried he, "your brethren have preaented the
most seditious paper that ever was penned. It

»Google

AJ). 1685-1688.] JAM]

IB & trumpet of Mditiou!" But before thin time
the biiliop«' petition wis before the world: bj
meAiiB not clearly explftined it had been printed
and circulated in the night. Its t^ine was moat
modente: its demands or prajert were aimplj —
1. That the king should not make alteimtioDs in
religion without consent of the parliament and
the church convocation. S. That he ahonld not
inBiat upon distributing and reading his new pvo'
clamation. In the ooarae of a few days aii more
blahopa— Loudon, Norwich, Gloucester, Salis-
bury, Winchester, and Exeter, publidj declared
their concurrence with the petitioners.

On Sunday, the 20th of May, the day appointed
for the first reading of the declaration in London,
only seven out of 100 clergymen obeyed the order;
and those who obeyed did ao with fear and
trembling, being groaned at by the people. In
the provinces the mass of the ciergy were quite
as disobedient as iu London. The pope's nuncio
clearly saw the danger. " The whole church,"
said he, " espouses the cause of the bishops.
There is no reasonable expectation of a division
among the Anglicans, and our hopes from the
NonconformistH are banished' But the imbe-
cile tyrant would not be warned. He resolved
to proaecute the contumacious bishope in tlie
Court of King's Bench. On the 8tb of June
they were eummoned before the privy council to
answer a charge of high misdemeanour. At firet
James and his suitable lord-chancellor, Jeflreys,
niBile a show of graciousneM, and attempted to
cajole the bishops into submission. Thia failing,
Jeffreys desired them to enter into a recognizance
to appear and take their trial in Westminster
Ball; and npon the bishops refuaing to do this,
Mtd insisting on their privil^e aa peer«, not to be
bound by recognizance in misdemeanours, a war-
rant, committing them to the Tower, was signed
by all the privy counsellors present, except Lord
Berkeley and Father Petre. Never since th<
first introduction of the mitre was Episcopacy si
popular as on that day. "The concern of thi
people,* says Evelyn, an eye-witness, "was won
derful; infinite crowds, on their knees, bepgirj

s n. 739

their blessing and praying for them aa they
passed. They were conveyed from Whitehall by
water; aa they took boat they were followed irj
the tears and prayers of thousands; and men ran
after them into the water to iroploi-e their bless-
ing.' The very soldiers in the Tower threw
themselves at their feet ; nay, even the Non-
conformista, who had felt all the bitterness of
Episoopal persecution, sent a deputation of ten
of their ministers to wait upon mid condole with
the prisoners.'

On the other side, James was buoyed up by
encouragement, and promises of assistance in
arms, men, and money from Louia XIV.; and,
unmindful of the enet^tic character of the people
who had brought his father to the block, he per-
severed in his fatal course, assuming language
more haughty and despotic than ever. On the
lAth of Jnne the bishope were brought before
the Court of King's Bench by a writ of habeas
corpus. The pope's nuncio bears testimony to
the fact that the popular feeling had grown
warmer and not cooler. The court offered to
take bail for their appearance. The bishope re-
fused to give hail, but they were at last enlarged
on their own recognizances, of.£200 for the arch-
bishop and ;ClOO for each of the bishops. In
the evening bonfires were lit in the streets, and
some ontiages committed upon Boman Catholics.

On the 29th of June the bishops again entered
Westminster Hall, surrounded by lonis and gen-
tlemen, and followed by blessings and prayers.
The king made no doubt of getting a verdict —
for he thought all the judges were his slaves,
and he fancied he had made sure of a subser-
vient jury. But Mr. Justice Powell stoutly de-
fended the bishops, and the majority of the
jnrymen were now more afraid of the people
than of the king. The trial had begun at nine
o'clock in the morning, and it was seven in the
evening when the jury retired to consider their
verdict Astheyremained long absent, the court
was' adjourned to nine the next morning, and the
jurymen were locked up for the night. At six
o'clock in the mnming the single but obstinate
B ipirtt wblcfa bid mppivlAl Hunpdm la
■apporMd Bidwranll—goDMHl to mppiiit Um

□niud In psTfact lurnioiiy. ThsH hclitigi wen Ion s( ths

KTTibtioti of ordur, Hhlilb iD Oouljloili tlm™ »■» grnnll/ mixt

radx to KrenKthan th. buidi of goiBnnwBt, and whidi h»T»

gokUooK at > «inir.bl. Bin— tho flnt p«r of Ui» rmlm— Ik.

d( Bdl (Or llbMtr, wiOi 000 «.i«pll™. h" *"^ nnhToowbli

flnt iBlnlrtm of Iho chnrch— « Torj in politta— « ulut In

nunun-whom t^nnnr hod in hi. wo dapito nmid Into ■

Id leSB th> cuiK of Uh lilnrch; ou lOt > CDamuil lb«t of tbe

popnlu putr. Hon Iku »000 der^mm. with Ihe prlmiU

]«««'. now ukod, on banded kwH. tha bli«lnc of ■ pnlila

-]r« ta mdnn bond! utd th. qwrnoj of thrir good, fcr th.

who wo iwdr to w~T tMlan, ud to Iu hli tfti limtn on hum

taoM, ntbathu bMnj Uh iatswtaof tba PratsUst nllgion

wu . ccKttoD which iDeliidad ths mvt >-l«i> Cinlion. tb.

Sng>««t.

»Google

V40

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil asd Miutart.

opposition of one Arnold, who was brewer to the
king, WB8 Hubdued ; aud at nine o'clock, when the
court opened, the foreman, Sir Robert Langley,
pronounced the verdict, " Not OniLir." Then
there arose a loud huzza from tlie noblemen,
gentlemen, and people within the court, which
anon was taken np bj those without, and peased
on from group to group, nnd from house to house,
front Westminster Hall to Temple Bar, whence
it was continued through the heart of the city,
to the Tower. The delivered prelates, as the;

walked to their barges, bade the people fear God
and konoar the king. At night London wsa again
lighted from one end to the other with blazing
bonfires, and, to the ringing of all the church
bells, the pope was bnmed in effigy before the
windows of the kin^s palace. In the morning
James had been on Hounslow Heath to inspe<rt
that army which was his sole reliance, until
money aud troops (which never ome) should
come from France. Of a sadden he heard a uni-
versal shout. Much startled, he asked Lord

Fevershnm the meaning of that noise. The gene-
ral replied that it was nothing but the soldiers
shouting for the acquittal of the bishope. "And
call you that nothing T said James. "Bat so
much the worse for them,"

At this crisis of the fate of the unhappy house
of Stuart — the unluckiest dynasty that ever
reigned — in the very midst of these stormy tlMls-
acttons, "the son of prayer" wns brought into
the world. On the 10th of June, two days after
the sending of the bishops to the Tower, npon
Trinitg Sundaff, between the hours of nine and
ten in the morning, the queen was delivered, in
presence of the queen-dowager, several ladies of
quality — among whom, however, the vigilant and
suspicious Princess Anne was not included — and
of most of the privy council, the usual witnesses
on such occasions; but the Archbishop of Can-
terbury was of course absent, being shut up with
the bishops in the state prison. Some of the
witnesses present were Protestants, some Pa-
pists; and Dr. Chamberlain, the emiuent obstet-
rical practitioner, who was sent for, was not only
a Protestant but a noted Whig, and one who had
espei^cnced the persecuting humour of the king.
Tl)e parturition was a healthy boy. But the
people, who sow wanted to be rid of James,
would have "no son of At« succeeding." At once
the whole affair was pronounced to be a gross

, Sin of ttu origins]. —Fnmsipacliiwn Intha Brltiili Knamin.

imposture, and a verification of all the suspicions
which had been entertained since the first an-
nouncement of Mary d'Este's pregnancy, and the
first boast of the Papists that a Catholic heir-
male was assuredly coming. The indisputable
presence in the bed of a promising child was ac-
counted for in a variety of ways: the story moot
generally received being that it had been adroitly
conveyed thither in tlie interior of a warming-
pan. The king's daughter Anne (by his first
wife, Anne Hyde) entertained, or pretended to en-
tertain the strongest doubts touching the child'a
birth, and she communicated these doubts to the
court of the Prince of Orange.'

The eyes of the Protestants were now never
turned from the Prince of Orange, and Tories as
well BB Whigs looked to William as their only
hope. And if that prince were invil«d by
friends and admirers on the oue side, he was not
less impelled into the course he took by enemies
on the other. Lonls XIV. had heaped every
pMsible injury and insult upon him; and his
! father-in-law, James, from whom at one time
lie had expected countenance and assistance, had
become the vassal of the overbearing monarch
of France. The courts of Madrid and Vienna
were equally exasperated against Louis, and.

Mutt, ii

lo Daltjmpk't iliaiairt

»Google

A.D. 1685—1688.] JAM]

h&ving failed in gaining over Jamea, thej were
ready to favoiir any project against him ; and it
became a general axiom of atate, that the down-
fall of this worst of the Stuarts was essential io
the welfare and independence of Europe.' We
can tOQCfa but lightly on the intrigaea and by-
paths through which the great plan was pursued ;
but we may observe, generally, that on nearly
every side tliero was a wonderful deficienc^r of
honour, principle, and spirit^

Count Zuleyatein, who was sent ambassador
by the States to felicitate James upon the birth
of a son, returned iu a few weeks with an invi-
tution, ill form, from a gniat number of noble-
men and gentlemen, for the Prince of Orange to
come over with an armed force, to call the legi-
timacy of the child in question, and redress
the grievances of the nation. Officers of the
army and navy, men in high civil trusts and em-
ployments, even personal friends and favoarites
of the king, joined secretly in the prayer to
William, sad every secret of the court and gov-
t was betrayed to the prince and his
Even Sunileriand, seeing the inevit-
able convulsion, prepared for his own safety by
betraying his imbecile master. Admiral Rus-
sell, cousin of the late Lord William Russell,
and Vice-admiral Herbert, bold and experienced
seamen, encouraged the discontents of the navy;
and, after carrying on a furtive correspondence,
going and coming between England and Holland,
Herbert threw off the mask, and took refuge
with the Prince of Orange, who, from that mo-
ment, forbade any mention of the infant Prince
of Wales in the prayer nsed in his chapel for the
royal family of England. The vice-admiral was
soon followed by the brave and restless Lord
Uordaunt; by the Earl of Shrewsbury, who
mortgaged hie estate for ;£40,000, and offered his
sword and his money to the i»ince; and bj other

B IT. 741

men of name and influence from Scotland as well
asfromEngland. Fletcherof Saltoun, and nearly
all the Protestant gentlemen and lords who had
been obliged to flee to the Continent, flocked to
the same standard. A regular intercourse wna
established between London, Edinburgh, Dublin,
and the Hague, lu England this wns chiefly
managed by Lord Danby, by the Earl of Man-
chester, and by the friend of the unfortunate
RuBsell, Lord Cavendish, now Earl of Devon-
shire; in Scotland by Lord Stair, his son Sir
John Dairyniple, the Lord Drunilanrig, son to
the Duke of Queenaberry, and General Douglas,
that duke's brother. But to few was William
more indebted than to Lord and lAdy Churchill,
who had tasted, to an unusual degree, of James's
favour and bounty. Secret meetings were held
in various places to mature the scheme. One
of the most conspicuous was the old tuanstoii
called Lady Place, or Hurley House, situated
on one of the most picturesque windings of
the Thames, between Maidenhead and Henley.
There, in a gloomy Norman vault, were signed
the papers that were transmitted to the Prince
of Orange.

William drove on his preparations for an actual
invasion; and by the month of August he had
collected 1S,00D land troops, a capital train of
artillery, a fleet of seventy sail, flatbottomed
boats for eflecting a landing, and all other mate-
rials and provisions necessary. From the state
of the Continent it was easy for him to make it
appear that these preparations were intended
merely against tVance. With his usual silence
and caution, William intrusted the particulais of
his design to five or six persons at most. The
King of France sometimes thought that William
meant to attack bis ally, the King of Denmark,
sometimes that the blow was merely intended
against the republicans of Holland. The King

' An flxtrtordiiury comphnllon oT kflkin in Europa jit thla
tlma gin WinUm, fbr tali Bnt ((rgctlTa u[tj (n tht gnnd Ktianu
b* hud fDmwl htr HODilat Iba Pntartuitlun of Omt Brtuln
uid Ihs Coiitlnaiit, no Ih ■ poigiuifi Ihu th* pop*-* (tobt

8ndBii, again dvltTerod th« Popedom trom tTin tutflUpi of
Fnnsa. Loati IIV. lud qumllHl wltb Inixnat JCI. Tbt
FniKh cleiu, ondsr BohdM, hltd Mti wllh IbsiT Knnlln.
iDd wtn «i the reixe of open echlun ; aiid the upuloiu mind
of Wlllbim HHTHI It onCB lo hiTe l«ld hold of thli cimiiniluiM
to iecon the aid of the TUIcan, tlthonch IniKuent donbtliH

deilgDi. OneofthemCBt Lntenetinf puHgHlnRtukj'i AiMory

matter, (crtnlnl}-, topnnnthat Innooent, uhmtmnHlri. ttooil
reonillr in
ntwMJi •»
It that hi>

mtnWae were priTj to it. All that the popt waa told waa» thai
tbe Prinn of Onuige trould take ths chief oommand on the
Rhine, and defend tha rlghla of the ampin a> well ea of the
dinruh flgniDtt Lonla XIV. ; toward* that he an|a|pnl

Caaoni, had, aa earl^ aa 16V7, pnoiie infbnaatiou that Itiv plao

an Dpportonltjr of Itiapectln^ In
th* orarta of Fnno* and Biala ncelied tha Snt iDtelllgence of
thaaa plana. Ajtonndlnc oonipllofltktD I At tha Roman omrt
then met th* thnada of an alllanea iifaiDll luid tor lla ol^Jact aiid
tar iti nnlt, tha dellTeiann of PnUalantlam lo Wistam Ennrpa
fhim the laet gnat dangar that Ihmtened it, and to gutu tha
£nglidi throne for eier fijr that pmfMlon, Onntlng that
Innocont XT,, ae hJU heen aatd, knew nothing of thia wbola
tchema, itlll It la nndaoiabl*. that ha attached hlmaalf lo an
oppoeition that waa In a (laat nieaann baaad on ProteKant
tvaoDnna and nKFtlraa. The TeaUtanc* h* made to the candidate
far the archblahoprlo of Cologw^ that waa f^Tovired bj Franoa,
wH In tha Intenala ot that oppiBltlan, and aialnl)> oonttibitcd
to tha ooDimeDoamenl of hnetllltiea— of hoatillUeawl

»Google

742 UISTORY OF ENGLAND. [Civil akd Miutart.

of England coDtiDued to believe that the fleet Mid , he repented; and, betnying hit ministen «a
army were intended against France. Attempts, thej had betrayed him, he clandeatinely begged
however, were not weoting to warn Jftraet of his Louia to keep a fleet and army ready for him at
danger; but, Sunderlund, who had the command Brest. A few days before this, the Duke of £er-
of the foreign correspondence, is said to have wick, one of his illegitimate children, attempted
concealed these communications from his master, to introduce a number of Irish Catholics into hia

regiment; and, because the lieuten-
ant-colonel and the ofticera would not
receive this illegal reinforcemeut, the
king sent a troop of hot«e to bring
tfaem before him, and cashiered them
all.

When too late, James attempted U>
disarm the animosity of his people by
conccMion and retractations. He even
condescended to consult the Protes-
tant biehope whom he hail so recently
persecuted ; he replaced the Protestant
depnty-lieutecaiits and magistrates;
he stepped the war against municipal
institutions; and he gsve back to the
city of London its old charter; anil
he spoke most respectfully of a par-
liament as the best means of settling
TsE V:iDLT JLT La>Y PLukTE.!— FniutbgBookortlH'numa. all diflerences. On the 3d of October

the Archbishop of Canterbuiy, amt
eight bishops waited upon bim, presented their
advice in writing, and sought to bring him back
"to the religion in which he had been baptize<l
and educated." Yet just at this critical n

By every party recourse was had to a wholesale
system of trickery, lying, and deception, for in
this " Glorious Bevolution" nothing was glorious
bnt tiie result. Even Louis XIV., who had
always a changeful game of his own to play, and | the infant, whose biith had hurried on the storm.

who was ready enough to sacrifice Ji
by so doing he could gain more than by support-
ing him, shifted and changed his position and
professions, and bewildered and deluded our
woful blunderer, who never had bead enough to
govern a society of monks, much less three king-
doms. The French king knew it all long before
this; but at last — about the middle of 3eptem-
— it suited Louis to impart by letter positive

was baptized with great pomp according to the
rites of the Church of Rome, the pope, repre-
sented by his nuncio, being the godfather. The
baptism of James Ft«nds Edward, with the par-
ticulars of the ceremony, was madly pnblisheil
in the Oaittle, and added fresh elements to the
tempest. A few days after, when there was " a
wonderful expectation of the Dutch fleet,'.' and
when the bastardy of the unlucky child was sung
information about the intended invasion. James ! in scurrilous songs in the streets of London,
tamed pale and stood motionless; the letter | James summoned an extraordinary council, at
dropped from his hand and womanly tears from which were present the Archbishop of Cant^r-
his eyes. At the same time Louis made an offer buiy, the judges, the lord-mayor, the queeu-
of French ships and French troops, but every- | dowager, and all the lords and ladies who hail
body near James advised the king to reject this I been present at the queen consort's labour and
perilons assistance, uid he rejected it accord- delivery. "The procedure," says Evelyn, "was
ingly. Yet, almost as soon as he had done so, | censured by some as lielow his majesty to con-

■ Til* BuiuiDii-bouH of Lidj Plan (nmoinl in 1A37} wu | uid that hicikI a>i»u]utJoiii fOr otllliig in tlia Priiwa ol
•ncttd Id Uh niga of Zltobelh. on tin lita of ui uidimt | Oiuiire wen halil Is Ihii ncea, od <rbich HcaDPl tkk isult

Lt pDWnrriJ priuoa ifta ha had •aoandad tb>
i Intcrtpiloh oomiii«iPDni(«d ADDthar rojml

a trap-door in th< hiU-floDT. and irai isr; •olldlf oouttnicUd.

mlTiiij IM U(ht rrom a (rattd window Mow the level ot tho

lotW. on Monday, the Ulh of No™.l»r, IIBA.' Th. •»• of

ludm. lo OM nam (that behind the Bfurm in our cut) a

will u the Aict that in dlgrng below Iba Hoar, aoina bodlaa is

Bauadletlne hablU hul baan fonnd, the lart duliaiu of tha oM

th> iraat Noman reroliition, bj which nroliitiat. U» wboU

mooartarj'. Ae waharaeaid. thaiaar. Downoimaioaof l-dj

■Utaof B»,laBd«.ah.ngBl;- thm. ■ that In thl. pliK«. mo

—Boaturihi nunit. bj Mr. aud Ura 8. C. Halt.

»Google

A.D 1668 1688.] JAMI

descend to on the talk of the people; and it was
remarkable that, on this oceaeion, the arch biahop,
the Marquu ol Halifax, and the Earb of Cliir-
endoQ and Nottingham, refused to sit at the
u)uncil-table amoDgst Fapiata, and their bold tell-
ing hia majesty that whatever was d<»ie whilst
such sat amongst them was unl&wf al and incurred
premunire — at least if what I heard be true."'
"1 have called joa together," sud James, "upon
a very extraordinary occasion, bat extraordinary
<liaeases must have extraordinary remedies. The
malicious endeavoura of my eaemies have so
jmisoned the minds of some of my subjects, that
by the reports I have from all hands, I have
reason to believe that many do think thia son,
which Qod hath been pleased to blesa me with,
to be none of mine, but a supposed child. But I
may say that, by a particular providence, scarce
any prince was bom where there were so many
peisona present." He then caused to be exa-
mined upon oath upwards of forty witneMes, in-
cludiiig twenty-two females, some of them wait-
ing women about the queen, aome ladies of the
highest rank, and nineteen noblemen and gentle-
men, aud physicians. As far as evidence for
such a case could go, their depositions, which
were enrolled in Chancery, proved that the queen
had been delivered of the child In the regular
manner; but the nation would not he bound by
the common rules of evidence. At this moment
Sunderland was suddenly dinmiaeed. The fallen
minister soon went over to Holland, and carried
all his state secrets with him.

Before this selfish politician got to the Hague,
the Prince of Orange was safe in England, the
game was up, and Sunderland's treachery no
longer worth ^e purchase. Yet, the first move
eeemed inauspicious. On Friday, October the
leth, William embarked with Count Solmes,
Count Stourm, Marshal Schomberg, Bentiock,
Overkirk, and many British noblemen and gen-
tlemen. His ship bore the Sag of England snd
his own arms, with this motto — " I will maintain
the Protestant religion and the liberties ot Eng-
land." The whole fleet weighed anchor during
the night, and stood over for the English coast;
liut the winds, which had been so long contrary,
veered round to the old quarter and blew such a
hurricane that the immense fleet was driven from
ita course, scattered, and materially injured.
William put back into Helvoet, and employed

' rHar), !»th Odobar. On ths pnndltig iv/ »h«™ hmd been
■ (mnalt In Um attf, whm tin nbbt* dmoliahsd ■ Poplab
cb^dHhfchhulbeninainUriiilnp. Tha ■«» dlarirt natica
that, <ni tha 14th et Oclobn, th« klng'm birthdi)', no prna •nm
flral from the Towar » nnul. uid that tha urn <m «l<;Md It
iU riling. "Thiidajf," hailjr*, " wmtifoMltitot Iba TktniT
of wmiamthaCaiuiiianir. n«TB«tUa, InSoBU' Itftfa
thit th> paopla warn ■ipaetlog npoa thM annlTinuy tlia land-
ing af WUUun, Frton ot OnslK

s ir. 743

his scouts in collecting the scattered transports.
News of this check was soon carried to James,
who devoutly said it was no wonder, since the
Host had been exposed for several days. But he
was deluded as much by Dutch OiaeUet as by his
own superstition. Those papers exaggerated the
damnge done, so as to make him believe that the
expedition would be deferred till the following
spring. A declaration from William was al-
ready circulated through the country. There
were expressions as if the lords, both spiritual
and temporal, had invited him over. " Thb,"
says Evelyn, " made his majesty convene my Lord
of Canterbury, and the other bishops now in
town, to give an account of what was in the ma-
nifesto, and to enjoin them to clear themselves,
by some public writing, of this disloyal charge."
^ncHift, with the Bishops of Durham, Cheater,
and St. David's, expressly denied any such invi-
tation,of which, indeed, fAejr had known nothing;
but Compton, the Bishop of London, who had
subscribed the invitation to the Prince of Oiv^,
said evasively, "I am confident the rest of the
bishops will as readily answer in the negative as
myself." James, dreading the men whom he
had attempted to crush, mildly requested to have
their denial in writing, together with an "ab-
horrence* of tha designs of traitors, and of the
Prince of Orange, and he dismissed them with
an order to draw up such a paper as he might
publish to the nation. The prelates were in no
hurry to obey, for they expected every day that
the landing of the prince would rescue them from
the penalties of disobedience, and from all fear
of James. He urged them on by impatient mea-
sages. The prvtUes at last ratuned to court,
and again protested their iUBocence of treasonable
plots, " But,' said James, " where is the paper!*
The primate replied that they had hrought no
paper, and that they did Bot think any vras
necessary; for since his majesty had been pleased
ta say that he thought them guiltless, they de-
spised what all the world besides might say.
" But," continued James, " I expected a paper.
I take it you promised me one." " We assure
your majesty," said the bishops, " that scarce one
in five hundred believes the manifesto to be the
prince's true declaration." "But five hundred,"
said James, "would bring in the Prince of Or-
ange upon my throat." " Ood forbid,* ejaculated
the bi^ope, who, after some more urging, said,
" Truly, sir, this Is a business of state which does
not properly belong to us:" and Sancroft reminded
him of the recent imprisonment of the hishopa
for touching on matt^ of state. At this he was
exceedingly wroth, and told the archbishop Uiat
he was making a mad quarrel.' But nothing
would move the bishops, great abhorrera as they

' «■*«((•.

,v Google

7ti

mSTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[Civil ak[> MtLtTAsr.

lud been whenever the cbureh waa not con-
cerned, to express their abhorrence of the present
scheme; and the conference ended In their affirm-
iug that, M bishops, they could only pray, but
that, as peers, they might serve the king in par-
liament.'

But by this time the lawn sleeves were safe,
fnr the Dutch fleet had passed the Straits of
Dover, and was steering for the wesl«m coast.
On the 1st of November William had set sail a
Hecond time, and with a fair wind and a brisk
gale. The English fleet, which had suffered in a
recent storm, was lying in the Downs with their
yards and topmasts struck, and, from the nature
of the wind and other circumstances, they were
unable to get to sea, or molest the prince with a
single shot. James had intrusted the important
command to Lord Dartmouth, who was true to
)iim; but more than half the captains had secret
engagements with Admiral Herbert; and it is
extremely donbtful whether the men would have
fought their sliipe. The Dutch bore away under
light and favourable breezes to the westward,
and on the 4th of November came safe to anchor
at Torbay. "William waa anxious to land imme-

Briihih, ToHBiT, ths Iindi Q(' pUcg otWilliun oTOnng*.
Fmm D«TOa imil CorniuU lUiatnUd.

diately, because that day was the anniveraary of
Ilia birth, and also of his maniage with the Prin-
ci^ss Mary of England; but the English rejoiced
that the landing could not be effected until the
Cth, which was the anniversary of the discovery
of the QuDpowder Treason. William imme-
diately marched with his army to Bxeter. He
had about lfi,000 men, of whom some SOOO were
English, Scotch, and Irish Protestants, who had

been serving on the Continent The recent
butcheries of Jeffreys had left such a dread and
horror, that few of the people joined the invader*;
and the city of Exeter, though it could not resist,
did not, at first, seem to welcome the invaden.
William's intention had been to march at once
into the heart of the kingdom, but he was em-
bHrniBsed, if not discouraged, by the appearance
of lukewarmness and timidity, and he continued
more than a week at £xeter,cloee tohia shipping,
which still lay unmolested by the English fleet.
It is stated that he more than once thought of
re-embarking, and that he threatened to publish
the names of all those who had invited him over,
as a proper reward for their treacheiy, folly, and
cowardice,' But, though it might have suited
him to make some such threat, we doubt very
much whether he ever really entertained any BU(di
intention, or despaired of his success.

Meanwhile James was trembling and waver-
ing, and touching people in London for the king'a-
evil, being assiated therein, not by a Protestant
priest, as the law prescribed in Uioae miracles,
but by Piten. a Jesuit If he could have counted
on the men, he was not without the means of
defence. Besides the regular
army which bad been so long
encamped at Hounslow, he bad
3U0O Irish troops in Chester,
nearly 3000 Scottish troops in
Carlisle, and the militia of seve-
ral counties were under arms.
But all the common soldiers tliat
were not Papieta were disaf-
fected, and some of the principal
officers were in league with the
Prince of Orange and hia friends.
Lord Colchester, a friend of the
lat« Duke of Monmouth, was
the first that openly deserted.
He carried with him a few of
his men ; bnt Lord Combnry,
son of the Earl of Clarendon,
who was lying at Salisbury with
three regiments of horse, at-
tempted to go over with all that
force. He found unexpected
obstacles in the military honour
of hia subalterns, and was obliged to flee to the
prince almost alone; but he was soon followed
by most of the men, and the rest were scattered
and rendered useless to James. The city of Lon-
don, meanwhile, was in disorder, and the mob
pulled down a nunnery recently opened at St
John's, Clerkenwell. A council of war was called
at Whitehall on the 16th of November. The
members of it were assur«d that a parliament
would be called as early as poarible, and tliey

* JIfOt; lard DarimnllL,

»Google

A,0. 1665-1088.] ■ JAMl

recommended Lis majesty to put liimself at the
head of hit faithfvl anny. The little Prince of
Wales was sent for uifety to Fortsinouth, and
there was a eudden and great flight uf the priests
and monks who had occasioned all this calamity.
Un the morning of the 18th the king set out for
the army, but he returned and received as ad-
dress from the Archbishop of Canterbury, the
Archbishop of York, some of the bishops, and
such of the peera as were in London, who all
prayed for the calling of parliament. On the
following morning he set out for head-quarters,
now at Salbbuiy, with Barillon, the French am-
bassadori but, wherever he advanced, he found
unequivocal symptoms of disaffection; and, fear-
ing (probably not without reason) to be betrayed
into the hands of hie aon-in-law by hii favourite
Churchill, he in five days began to retrace his
atepa towards the capital.

Churchill and the Duke of Grafton, one of
Charles Il.'a illegitimates, went over to the Prince
of Orange, who by this time had no canse to
complain of lakewarmness; and who, encooniged
by riaingg in his favour in Cheshire, in Derby-
shire, in the north, had advanced from Exeter
to Wiucanton. Captain Churchill, brother to
Iiord Churchill, had joined the Dutch fleet with
Ilia ship. The king, as he was retreating from
Ilia own army, stopped on the evening of the S4th
at Audover, where he invited his son-in-law.
Prince George of Denmark, and the young Duke
of Ormond, whom he had recently gratified with
the order of the Garter, to sup with him. The
very next morning both the prince and the duke
were missing; they had gone straight from the
royal table to horse, and had ridden to the Prince
of Orange with Lord Drumlanrig and Mr. Boyle.
Tlie illustrions Dane had been wont to say, when
he heai-d of the desertion of any of those whom
James bad delighted to honour, "£et-il possible T
(Ts it possible') The king now said, "Eetr-il
possible gone too !' But when, on the morrow,
he arrived at Whitehall, and found that his
daughter Anns had imitated her husband's ex-
ample, he exclaimed, in an agony and with tears,
"God help me! my very children have forsaken
me." Anne had absconded from the palace in
the night, with the fascinating Lady Churchill.
The two ladies slept in the ci^ at the hoose of
OomptoD, the Bishop of London, who, the next
morning, with tlie Enri of Doraet, escorted them
to Lord Dorset's mansion at Qayi Hall, whence
they repaired to the EnrI of Northampton's.
They afterwards went ia Nottingham, where a
small army of volunteers gathered round the
orthodox but unfeeling daughter of James. Comp-
tnn, the Bishop of London, who had been a sol-
dier in his yonth, put on his hamem again, and
rode before the prineeai with ■ drawn swotd in

VOUIL

S IL 745

his hand, and with pistols at his saddle-bow. By
this time Plymouth had declared for the prince,
and so had Bath and Bristol, Vork and Hull ;
and all ths chief nobility and gentry- were flock-
ing to his standard, and aiding in the composition
or publication of manifestoes and declarationa.
The Dutch army was joyfully expected in the
ultra-loyal city of Oxford; and the university, to
complete their recantation, sent to make William
an ofTer of all their plat«. There was a fresh
flight of priests, and Jesuits, and court favourites;
among whom was the obnoiious Father Petre.
All that remained of the council in London were
distracted and panic-struck; and Chancellor Jef'
freys saw the gallows or a worse death before
him. Unmeaning proclamations were issued,
and negotiations were set on foot with the Prince
of Orange; a general pardon to offenders was
passed under the great seal, and promises and
professions were lavished to an incredulous and
now triumphant people. "Addresses," tays
Evelyn, on the 2d of December, "come np from
the fleet not grateful to his majesty; the Papists
in oflSce lay down their commissions and fly;
universal consternation is amongst them; if luoki
like a revoltUiim/'

But by this time James himself was convinced
that nothing was left to him but flight. The
ofScers of the navy prevent«d the embarkation
of the little Prince of Wales at Portsmouth.
The child was brought back to London; and, on
the night of the 10th of December, the queen,
disguised Bs an Italian lady, fled with it across
the river to Lambeth, lighted on her doleful way
by the flames of bnming Popish chapels. From
Lambeth the queen and prince were conveyed
in a coach to Gravesend, where they embarked
in a yacht, which landeil them at Calais. Within
twenty-four hours the stupified king followed
them. He cancelled the patents for the new
sheriflb, with the writs issued for calling a par-
liament ; and, taking away the great eeal with
him, he fled with Sir Edward Hales, acrom the
Thames to Lambeth, throwing the seal into the
river as he passed. Relays of horses had been
provided by Sheldon, one of the equerries, and
they rode with all speed to Fevei-sham, where
they embarked in a custom-house hoy. But it
blew a strong gale, and the master of the little
vessel, seeing tliat he wanted more ballast, ran
into the western end of the Isle of Sheppey,
where the people seized the disguised king aa a
fygitiw Jnuit, treatetl him with proportionable
rudeness, and carried him back a prisoner to
Feveraham. Then he made himself known; told
the rabble, who had been calling him " a hatchet-
faced Jesuit," that he Was their king, prociuvd
pen, ink, and paper, wrote a note to Lord Win-
chelaea, tiie lieutenant of the county, who haa-

,v Google

7i6

HISTOEY OF ENGLAND.

[Cmi,

D MlUTAST.

tened to him to rescue bim out of the rude honda
of that rabble rout of fishermen, sailors, and
smugglers, who took his money, but refused to
let bim go. Never, perhaps, did a fallen despot
present bo miserable a spectacle. His mind was
^complete vreck: he told the mob that the Prince
of Orange wns seeking his life, and lie screamed
for a boat! a boat! that he might escape. When
he waa conducted by Lord Winchelsea from the
public bouse to a private house in the town, he
fell a-weeping, and dcploreil hia great miafortune
in losing a piece of the wood of the true crosa,
which had belonged to Edward the Confessor.
When the newa of his capture was carried to the
Prince of Orange, who was then at Windsor, the
messenger wna referred to Burnet, who excliumed,
"Why did you not let him go?'

As soon as the king's flight from hia palace
waa known in the city the populace proceeded
to very violent extremities, being excited and
maddened by all kinds of reports. lu this fren^
they destroyed more Popish chapels, Woke open
the houses of some of the foreign ambassadors,
and made search for Father Petre and hia Jesuits.
Petre waa safe in France ; but the pope's nuncio
was fain to disguise himself as a footman. In
the midst of this aearch a wretch fell into tbeir
handa, whose life would not have been safe for
an instant with any other people in Europe in a
similar state of excitement This was Lord-
chancellor Jeffreys, who was found in Wapping
disguised as a sailor. They tnidgelled him, it is
true, but they drew no knife or mortal weapon
against the butcher. With a rare reverence for
the forma of justice, they carried him before the
lord-mayor, who committed him for safety, and
at hia own request, to the Tower.

In the midst of these tumults a provisional
government was formed in a council of about
thirty of the biahope and peers that were in '.
don; the governor of the Tower was changed;
and the Prince of Orange waa invited iuto the
capitaL This council also ordered Lord Fevers-
ham to repair to bis helpless master with 200
of the life-guards and no more, and to leave
his majesty either to return to his good city of
London or to retire to the Continent, as he should
think fit. Ths provisional government and the
Prince of Orange made no doubt that James
would instantly turn his face towards France
but, to the astonishment of all, James, either by
choice or compuhiion, or through some deceptions
practised upon him, came back to London, and
invited his son-in-law, the Prince of Orange, to
meet him at Whitehall, that they might there
tmucahty amUXfi the distractions of the nation.
But William had certainly no wish for any auch
interview; and he and his friends were probably
alarmed by the commiseration which the Lon-

doners had testified for the fallen sovereign on
his passage through the city. What wQliBm
and bis party want«d was the immediate erpa-
triation of the king, which could be converted
into a virtual abdication ; and to this end they
drove, being assisted by some whom James atilt
considered as his personal friends. And, as if
to revive tliat abhorrence of all Popery to which,
immeaaurably more than to any other canse, he
owed hia ruin, he on the day of hia arrival at
Whitehall, went to mass; and then, dining in
public, had a Jesuit to say grace.' He, however,
resumed some of the functions of royalty, and
showed no inclination to be gone. To quicken
him, four battalions of the Dutch guards and a
squadron of horaewere marched into WeBtminiter;
and James's ex-minister Halifax, and the Lords
Shrewsbury and Delamere, waited upon him
with a peremptory message. Lcrd Craven, who
was at Whitehall with a few of the guards, de-
clared that the Dutch shonld not enter there as
long aa be had breath in his body; but Jsmea
had none of the spirit of this octogenarian uoble,
and resiatauce was cleariy worae than useleoB.
The English guards were withdrawn, and the
Dutchmen surrounded the palace. Then Halifax
waited upon James, who waa in his bed, and
coolly told him that he must go to Ham, a bouse
near Richmond belonging to the Dowager-doche^
of Lauderdale, as the Prince tA Orange intended
to enter London on the following laaeamg.
James merely said that Ham was cold asd damp,
and that be should prefer going to Rochester.
As this waa a step towards France, he waa soon
informed that his son-in-law agreed ; and aboat
noon on the following day James embariced in
the royal barge for Graveoend. He waa attended
by the Lords Arran, Dumbarton, IJchlleld, Ayles-
bury, and Dundee, and followed and watched by
a number of Dutch troops in other boats.* The
people of Loudon almost forgot the past, and
many of them were so much affected aa to abed
tears, and implore blessings on his diahonoured
head. That night he slept at Gravesend, and on
the morrow he proceeded to Bochester, where
he spent four days, still watched by Dutch troops,
who, of course, favoured rather than obatructed
that flight which his fears and everything he
saw and heard recommended. On the nigfat.of
the 23d of December,he rose from his bed, dressed
himself, walked through the garden of the house,
down to the Medway, and put off in a boat with
hia natural son the Duke of Berwick, two ex-
captains of the navy, and a groom of the cham-
bers. On the following morning he reached a

»Google

HISTORY OF HELiaiON.

747

fishing smack, which hftd been hired for the I Ambkteuse. And thus wsa Britain happily de-
Toyage; and, pMsing the gnardshipa at the Nore livered from the perverse dyoaety of the Stuarta,
without noleatation or challenge, he landed oo when there wea no longer n hope or promiee of
the morning of the 2dtb at the small town of I its reformation.

CHAPTER VII.— HISTORY OF RELIGION.

A.I1. 1600-1639.

Eiigliih Parituiinn — Engliih Motuiss — Thair Doniben and vikrist;— Tfaair eitraTagaDcss in reUgioKB belief —
BntniiDti b; which the; ware pnotiokUr held io oheok — MiliUtrji Tiolancoa of tha Hctuiaa dnring the CiTil
«u — ThwrlimitadoIuLrMteT— lU-HtionofloTftUit and Epiioop>li*ii principlsi at tiie Reatontion — Origin of
the Qiultan — Acoonnt of Georga Fox, their toandar — Eitnvaguuiai of the early Qnakan — Their paneontiaaB
Hid laffBriug* — Fronxutioni affordad by thair ccaduct — Account af Junea Naylcir— Hi« entrance into Biiitol
— Blaiphemoai behaTUiurof hia followen — Hi* panishment, repentance, and death — Femcntioo impoeed od
ohnrchmen during tha aicendencj of ParitaniBui^PriDcipal ahnrChmen who sufiered during the period —
KoderatiOD of tha »otarieB aa pareecaton — Daprivationa of the inferior church clergy — Change effected by
tb« Reatoiation — The chuieh reateied along with the nionarehy — Strength of tha PresbyteriaaB— Deceitfkil
propoeala of Charlee II to unite tha Preabyteriana and BpiMopaliana — He oalla a maating of Presbyterian
olargymoD for the pnrpoie — Their prapoaala for a plan of comprahsiuion — Indignant i^eetioa of their pro-
poaali by the Epiicop^ani — Inmltiug conduct of the Epiacopaliana — Indignant remonitrance of Baiter in
ooniieqnenoa — Charlea II. pnbUihea hia "Healing DeclaratioD " for the rsconcileinant of both partiaa — Cordiality
with which both parties reoeivad it — Ita r^eotion by parliament — Rcaolution to §uppreaa Preabyteriaziiani^
The SaToy Conference — Ita pmpoeed abject to unite Preabyterians and EpiKOpaliana— Tha Preabyteriana
oireumveDtwd— Their offan and pmposale— Baiter'i tefonned Litnrgy— Unsatiifaotory cloia ot the Savoy
Confarenee — An act of confannitT drawn up by the biihopi — AlteratioiH made ia the Book of Commoo
Prayei^-The act ot oonformity designed for the utter arerthraw of Preabytari anion— It ii passed into law —
Ita aobsoriptioD eojoiaed upon the Presbyterian clergy— St. Barthalumew'i Day— Two tboosaud Prabyterian
clergyman ejected for reftuing to aubscribe to the act of confonuity— Puritanism ejected from tha English
cbuich — Ita lepaiate eiiatence aa Nooeonfarmity — The Scottish church — Hopes eutertMued by the Scottish
Praabyterian* Rrom the accesaion of Charles IIT— Thair disappointment— The Earl of Middleton appointed
royal eommiauoner for Scotland — Mad pmceediugi of Uiddleton's parliament — Episcopacy leatnred in Scot-
land— Aot passed to enforoe the aubmiadon of the paroohial clergy to the biahopa — Refusal of the ministers to
■Dbmit— Their ejautmant from their bonus and liiinga — CouTenticlss and field- in estinga — Effbrta for their
luppreasion — Panaeutlons InSioted upon tha Ccnenantera — Loyalty of the Scottiab CoTenanters — Teatimonj
to thaleffectof two of their minislen— Martyrdom of Hargarat Wilson— Change of prospeola fur the Scottish
eburoh by the aooession of Jamaa II.— Heartiness of the Scots for hia dapoaition — Downfall of Epiaoopacy in
Scotland- The American colonies —Hardships and difflcoltiea of tha Bret Puritan settlers— IdAui of new
emigrants into America — Their obaiaetsr — Religions dissension* among the infant states — Thair intolerance
and perseenUng Sfdrit — Cass of Hoger Willisnis — Universal toleration estabHsbed fa Rhode Talaod— Severe
laws in Amerioa agunat Immorality and dissent — Sufferings of the Quakeia in Amerioa — Slow prngreaa of
toleration In the oolonies.

t\ N the History of Religion during the
j reigns of J&mes I. and Charles I., and
the Protectorate, we attempted veiy
I Meflytotrace tbemecessiveatcpsof
I English Faritaniem, and the forms in
*| which it was mouifeeted, till the close
of the Commonwealth. Like other great national
revolutions, the commenoemeut was sufficiently
hnmhle, consisting of a seneitive repugnance, not
to doctrines and principles, but to certain tiivial
fortna; and had the correction of these been con-
ceded, there ia every reaeon to believe that the
Puritan spirit wonld have been satiefied. Bat
persecution, not coneeMion, was the order of the
day; and the Puritanism of England was tbna
driven into the more dedsive and antagonistic

form of Presbyterian ism, under which it grew
strong enough to overthrow the church that had
oppressed it. Not only the removal of obnoxious
ceremonies, which had been the original demand,
but the overtlirow of the ecclesiastical polity
itself— a downfall that had neither been desired
nor contemplated- was the result The establish-
ment of Fresbyterianism in England was a victory
so unexpected, that the successful Puritans them-
selves might well be sstoniehed at the magnitude
of their own achievement. But who shall set
bounds and limits to religioiu inquiry, or satisff,
when it is once in motion, the desire of national
change 1 The avalanche which a disturbed at-
mosphere had loosened went onward with accele-
rated force until it reached the phun below, where

,v Google

748

HISTOEY OF ENGLAND.

[Reliqioii.

it lay iuert and Hbattered into fragments. In this
manuer the Furit&n impulse, instead of pauring
mid way, went onward in the more decisive and
destructive form of Indepeudency, until all church
government whatever woa swept away, and no-
thing left to bedestroyed^until nothing remained
of it when it reached the end of ita career but
those innumerable fragments of sectttriauism into
which it hod broken by ita own weight and ra-
pidity.

Of the different claases of sectaries who per-
formed so conspicuous a part during the period
of the Civil war and the Commonwealth, the
number was so great, and in many cases their
opinions so extravagant, that a full history of
them would be neither desirable nor instructive.
Animated by the successful eiamjile of Indepen-
dency, and protected by universal toleration, it
was not wonderful that every wild opinion should
find its adherents, and become the gemuDating
principle of a religious party; or that those who
were Bated with current doctrines by repetition
should go off in qneat of new ones, and give
themselves no rest until they bad found them.
Even the names of these sections would occupy
too much space ; and Edwards, in his enumera-
tion,' gives ua only sixteen, who were most con-
spicuous and of chief account in the changes of
that most eventful period. These were Indepen-
dents, Brownists, Millenitries, Antinomians, Ans-
baptiata, Arrainians, Libertines, Familists, En-
thusiasts, Seekers, Perfectists, Sociniaus, Arians,
Anti-Trinitarians, Auti'Scripturists, and Sceptics.
These, however,didnotcomposethe whole amount,
as in not a few cases some of these names were
only generic, and represented a whole brood of
sectarianism, each branch of the brotherhood op-
posed to til© rest of the family, and all at war
with the parent that gave them birth. Several
sects, also, there were whose doctrines were of
too flagitious a character to endure the light, and
whose existence was only manifested by those oc-
casional outrages with which they violated every
principle of common sense and rule of social order.
It is enoDgb to state, with regard to their mani-
fold and contending doctrines, that in moot caaes
they might be resolved into a perversity, or even
downright parody, of that Calvinism iu which
they had originated. In this way the complete-
ness of the atonement, and free pardon of sin,
were used as juntiflcations of every offence: what-
ever sin their l>elievers might commit was either

finir jnin. London, it

■ iff. and ptmieiaut Fraetica qT ^
^ anil artrd in Bxglai%d n Ikm Iu
. Thta mnk, vkieh ila hamid uul

wri'tiiii. »riintijiiiiiiiiiiii|jiini

of Lmdon, uqumded Into thna puU, oonUiuiiig iu ill WO •nwi:
qnirto ^tfit, mw > prodnstiun at ■no* Dota In JCi 6tj, ud li
tM MlM mrd tf tlia Mifloiu utianfuw of tiw pnisd.

no sin at all, or wan cancelled as soon as com-
mitted. By such principles the protections of
life and property, the restraints of chastity, and
the laws of mBrriage were made of no acconnL
Strong in his spiritual freedom, and puffed up
with his fancied illnminatioa, the crazy enthu-
siast regarded these restraints as obligatory only
on the carnal and the uoregenerate ; and while
ordinary Chiistiana were stitl burning bricks in
Egypt, by recognizing the moral obligations of
religion, the mystagogue stalked onward upon
his new-found path to the promised land, acconnt-
ing his own interpretation of Scripture, or his
own inward light in lieu of all Scripture, a guide
sufficient for his way, and a w^arrant for all hia
movements. Howsociety could escape being torn
asunder in such a state of things— how these sec-
taries themselves, instead of being more outran
geous debauchees than the wildest troopeta of
Rupert and Goring, were such peaceful citizens
that a superior degree of decorum and peaceful-
neea was maintained during the whole period of
the Commonwealth, has oft«n been matter of won-
derment. But there were restraints even upon
this wild fanaticism that could, in most cases,
reduce it to comparative harmlessness. These
sectaries were only a small minority in a society
that was strictly moral uid Christian. They were
uuder the strict garveillance, not only of those
more temperate sects from which they had apos-
tatized, but of the royalists, whose excesses they
had been so ready to expose and condemn. Thus
hedged in and watched on every side, a circum-
spect walk and abstinence from notorious oSenceri
were as necessary for them as a cropped head, n
grave long face, and boots of untanned leather.
But besides, it must be remembered that, in many
cases, these wild systems of belief were theories,
or dreams, rather than practical principles; the
extravagances of an overheated fancy, or provo-
catives to discussion and debate, rather than n
rule of every-day life and practice. Even the
restraints of an earlier and better creed, and
the natural powerof conscience, could also coerce
them from the commission of flagrant excesses,
let the arguments for the liberty and impunity of
their saintship be aa ample as they might It
was upon these, and other stich consideraUoua,
that the practice of these lectariea was so greatly
better than their theory; and that, with their
argument still wrong, their conduct was so ranch
in the right. It is worthy of note, that earnestly
as the Presbyterian pen of the anthor of Oan-
grana laboured to expose the sinful practices of
these sectaries, and largely as he was aided by
letters from evety part of England, detniling tha
scandals with which they were charged by their
respective neighbourhoods, yet Edwards has beeu
able lo bring notbing worse against them, either

,v Google

A.D. 1660-1689J

HISTORY OF REUGION.

749

in chuscter or amount, thui might be predicated
of 1U17 Htate of society either before or since the
period of the Commonwealth.

When these sectaries became soldiers, and
formed part of a victorious army, even then the
acts of violence with which they were chargeable,
unlike the cruelty and rapine of the royalist
troops, were rather eipressionH of angiy fana-
ticism, and protests against what they accounted
erroneous doctrine, than ebullitions of wanton-
ness and revenge. When these exhibitions com-
menced,they were first directed agninst the Epis-
copal church, which they denounced asadaughter
of Babylon and horn of the Beaat, while its ritual
they regarded as nothing better than the moss iu
disguise. To interrupt it, therefore, midway, they
considered to be a meritorious deed; and thus,
during the war, a peaceful village church was
often startled by the violent entrance of a band
of these military reformers, who ordered the priest
to close his pmyer-book, and come down from the
reading-deak, with terrible threats if he disobeyed.
If he complied, their errand waa done; hut if
he refused, the worst he encountered was to be
dragged from his place, or driven into bis parson-
age. On oce, at least, of these occasions, the in-
truders were met with a violence gi-eater than
their own; for the priest thus summoned drew
dagger, brandished it aloft, and defied them t
come forward. Oq other occasions, after dii
charging the preacher from the pulpit, a gifted
brother would assume his place, and hold forth
to the astonished auditories such wondrous reve-
lations as hod never entered their hearts to ima-
gine. This occupation of the pulpit, which formed
such a temptation to these inspired lay-preachi
and expoanders, vras the offeuce most frequently
committed. Occasionally, also, the doctrines of
these teachers were illustrated by practical
amples which were not always convenient to tlie
taught. To show that the birds of the air
given as a common property to the dominion of
the saints, they sometimes demolished a harmless
dove-cot To enforce the duty of even modem
Christians to abstain from eating "things stran-
gled," they would, in a march, reject the fowls
which bad been got ready for their dinner
the houses upon which they were quartered,
becanae their hosts had killed the poultry in the
Dsual fashion by twisting their necks; and would
themselves go to the barn-yard and prepare ma-
terials for an orthodox meal by chopping off the
heads and pouring out the blood of all the hens,
geese, and turkeys that remained. To bum the
Bible itself, also, before the eyes of a borror-
stmck assembly, was sometimes the daring act
of the wildest of these sectarians, to show that
their own inward light was superior to all writ-
ten revelation. Such, after all the munerous

statements of the period, were the chief violences
that could be charged even npon the most insane
of these sectaries, while fire and sword predomi-
nated, and when victory left them mssters of the
field. But it is easy to see how such manifesta-
tions might hai'e been followed by the demolition
of churches, the banishment of religious ordi-
nances, and a fanaticism that wonid have recoiled
into its opposite extreme of universal atheism,
had not these men formed a small and divided
minority, with Cromwell to keep them in check.
Even as it was, however, the reproach they had
brought npon the Christian character was neither
light nor transient, and the unhealthy effects of
their example was fatally illustrat«d after the
Restoration. Tlieprofanity of the court of Charles
II. found its chief aliment in the sayings and
doings of the court of Cromwell, which required
little wit or invention to parody. The restored
Cavaliers revenged themselves upon these Bound-
heads who had so often chased them from the
field, by ei^gerating, in their own conduct, every
vice which these Roundheads had especially de-
nounced. Oay young gentlemen, who looked to
the court as their guide and exemplar, were care-
ful that none should suspect them of belonging
to the opposite faction ; and they proved their
loyalty by their contempt for all religion, and
their defiance of every moral restraint. Even the
more sober-minded of the community were care-
ful not to appeal" "righteous over much," lest
they should be suspected of a taint of Puritanism
or di^oyalty. It was only the natural recoil from
one extreme to another, in which excessive fana-
ticism and a wild religious show were matcheil
by equal profanity, reeklesaneaa, and indifference.

It was well for England that the wildest of
these sects were so ahcrt-lived, and that they ex-
pired with the turmoil that hod given them birtli.
It was also well that the Puritanism of England
still survived iu the Presbyterians, Independents,
and Baptists ; and that these numerous and in-
fluential portions of the religions commnnity
were now so taught by experience, and eobereil
by disappointment, as to be able to resume their
old position, and make bead both against courtly
vice and high-chnrch intolerance. Still, however,
amidst these brief notices of sectaries, we cannot
omit one of the late.1t bom and longest surviving
of the family — once the wildest, and afterwards
the most demure and eober-minded of the whole
' — which, strong in its simplicity and upright
integrity, has contrived to weather through those
storms in which its less worthy brethren perished,
and be one of the best and most influential Chris-
tian sects of our own day. We allude to that well-
known community called Quakers, or Frienda.

Their founder, George Fox, wsa boni at Drayton
in Leicesteiahire, a,d. I62J, and was apprenticed

,v Google

750.

HISTOBT OF ENGLAND.

[BSUQIOK.

to the bnmble craft of n ehoeinaker; but bearing
-what be tmagmad to be a voice from beafen,
commanding him to forsake all, aod become a
Btrauger to eveiy one, be, at the age of nineteen,
^made himself a strong dress of leather, sach as
would be snfficient for a life-long pilgrimage, and
weat forth, expounding the Scriptures hj strange
glosses wherever be could find people to Usten.
The same voice that sent him on his mission had
also commanded bim, as he averred, to take ofi'
bis hat to no one, to omit all titles of distinction,
and address every persou with tAee and tAou; to
shun every kind of bowing and salutation, and
not to bid "good morning" or "good evening" to
any one. Such discourtesy, in an age when rank
WIS respected, and friendly greetings were the
peaceful passports of the highway, was oertain
to wia petsecutJOQ and notoriety; and he soon
found himself not only in prison and the stocks,
but at the bead of a band of men and women,
who followed him wherever he was pleased to
lead them. His first signal public outbreak was in
1649, when be interrupted a church in the midst
of Divine service at Nottingham. On this occa-
sion, the preacher was urging the duty of trying
all doctrines by the test of the Holy Scriptures,
when George Foi rose up in the midst of the
oongregation, and cried, "Oh no! it is not the
Scripture, but it is the Holy Spirit, by which
opinions and religions are to be tried ; for it was
Uie Spirit that led people into all truth, and
gave them the knowledge of it." This interrup-
tion of churches became a r^ular part of the
duty of these followers of Fox. They denounced
the buildings, which they called steeple-houses,
and the officiating ministers, whom they stigma-
tized as deceivers, false prophets, blind leaders
of the blind; and exhorted the people to abandon
such guides, and follow the light that was within
them. To such > height did their exb'avagBiice
arise, that some of them went naked through
towns and villages, predicting woes upon the
nation, and summoning the people to repent.
These violations of the pubUc peace and comQ>on
decency could not pass unpunished. The offen-
ders were assailed and mobbed in the streets
without mercy; and when taken before the ma-
gistrates their puuishment was increased through
their contempt of the court, in refusing to take
off their hatv, or swear the customary oaths of
trial. They also prorlaimed war against every
sect, and exposed themselves to the persecution
of all the other parties of professing Christians
by denying the sacredness of the Sabbath, or
the propriety of setting apart any building for
ttie purposes of religious worship. As they con-
tinued to grow and multiply under such a con-
gMiial storm of persecutioD, they soon acquired
the name of Quakers, in consequence of their

tremulous tone* and geatures while preaching,
and their freqoent call upon the people to qoake
at the word of the Lord. A distinct idea ik the
amount of persecution they endured was given in
H statement presented to parliament in 1657, b;
which it appeared that 140 Quakers were at that
time in prison; and that, during the six previous
years, 1900 had been ptmished,of whom twenty-
one had died in confinement. Even the Protector
himself, averse as he was to persecution, was un-
able to interpose in their behalf, in consequence
of their growing outrages, which fines, whip{Hng,
and imprisonment seemed only to embolden.
Some of these instances, indeed, were utterly in-
tolerable. Quaker prophets perambulated the
streets of Loudon, denouncing, at the top of their
voices, the government of Cromwell, and predict-
ing its downfall. One of them, taking his station
at the door of the parliament house with a drawn
sword, wounded several persons, and declared
that he was inspired by tlie Holy Spirit to kill
every member of the bouse. It has been allc^^,
also, that, in the midst of public worahip in
Whitehall Chapel, and while the Protector was
present, a Quakeress entered the assembly st«rk
naked, as a "sign" to the astonished worship-
But the frenzy of Quakerism reached its cul-
minating point, and was exhibited on its gre«teet
and most public scale, in the case of Junes Nay-
lor. This man, originally an Independent, but
cast out of their communion upon charges of wan-
tonness and blasphemy, had betaken himself to the
Quakers, and attained among them such renown
for hisprophetic and supematurtd powers, that he
was alleged to have even raised the dead to life.
The most ardent of his worshippers were of the
female sex ; for, independently of bis wonderful
gifts and endowments, Naylor was of a goodly
presence and winning ingratiating manners. But
one peculiar attraction which be possessed in
the eyes of his followers, was a supposed likeness
to the appearance of our Saviour, as described
in the letter which Publius Lentulus is said to
have written to the senate of Home; and this
casual resemblance Naylor was careful to com-
plete to the uttermost, in the wearing and dressing
of his hair and beard. Riding from Exeter to
Bristol, his journey was oonverted by his fnm-
tic worshippers into a blasphemous imitation of
the last journey of our Saviour to Jerasalem :
some women led his horse, others spread their
scarfs and handkerchiefs on bis way, aad sang
before him "Holyiboly! holy!" with other ascrip-
tions taken from Sacred Writ applied to our
blessed Redeemer. He was speedily thrown into
prison ; but this, instead of damping, only elevateil

»Google

HISTORY OF REUGION.

751

the adoration of tiieae female devoteea, who
crowded to liia cell, sat or knelt on the ground
before him, kisseil hia hand, and uuig to him
thom praieeB which belong onlj to the Almighty.
lu the meantime, hia case was the subject of a
loog and keen discuasion in the House of Com-
mona ; and after nairowl/ escaping sentence of
death as a blasphemer, he was condemned to be
pilloried and whipped, and to hare his tongue
liored through with a hot iron. The poor mail-
man bore these terrible inflictions meekly; but
his followere, gone even further than himself,
still continued to crawl around him, kissing his
feet, licking his wounds, and leaning in his boeom.
In terms of hia sentence be was afterwards con-
signed to bridewell, where he was condemned to
work for his living ; and althoogh at first he
refused to labour, a three daja' fast tamed him
into compliance, while two years of confinement
sufficed to dispel his dreams, and reduce him to
the ordinary standard. He confessed his'fault
in languHge of the deepest humility and peni-
tence. "All thoee ranting, wild spirits," he wrote,
" which gathered about me at that time of dark-
ness, with all their wild arts and wicked works,
against the honoar of God and his pure Spirit
and people, I renounce; aud whereas I gave ad-
vantage, through waut of judgment, to that evil
spirit, I take shame to myself." He was libe-
rated by order of parliament in 1660, and was
ever afterwards distinguished by careful self-
wit tchfulueaa, humility, gentleness, and piety.
He survived his deliverance from prison only a
few months, and died in a more rational and
Iwt ter esteem with the more sober of his party,
tha-D the wild hosuinabs with which he had been
formerly deified eould have promised. Such was
James Naylor, the type of Quakerism both in its
frenzy and its subsequent soberness. In the
entry of his rabble-rout into Bristol, it would
be as difficult to recognize the calm, temperate,
And demure Quakers of a later day, as to trace
the likeness of Knipperdoltug or John of Leyden
iu H modern Bi-itish Baptist.'

While thus the Church of England was in the
first inatauce overthrown by the Presbyterians,
and afterwards ioaultingly trampled underfoot by
the sectaries, it is interesting to mark the conrse
of its ministers during tijis dark night of perse-
cution and affliction; and this, the more espe-
cially, because the morning was at hand when
they were once more to resume tbeir ascendency.
Of the distinguished prelates and divines of the
period who suffered with their falling church,
the first place is due to Jeremy Taylor, who was
deprived by the Preohvterian party while he

was rector of Uppingham; who afterwards be-
came a chaplain in the royalist army, but was
taken prisoner; then turned schoolmaster; and
finally went an exile into Ireland, where he re-
mained till the ReHtoration, when he became
Bishop of Down and Connor. Another, who was
deprived, ejected, sequestrated, and imprisoned,
was Bishop Hall, the well-known author of
Contempiatimu on the IfittoriaU Patta^a of lie
Old aitd New Tt^ament, a work whose high po-
pularity and usefulness the lapse of two centu-
riee has iu no degree diminished. A third was
Dr. Fococke, a name dear to students of sacred
and Oriental literature, who was first deprived of
bia professorship of Arabic at Oxford in 1661,
for dectiuiug to take the engagement, and after-
wards pi-oeecuted by the committee for the re-
moval of scandalous ministers, with the design
of ejecting him from the sacred office. The com-
mittee being unable to find any scandal against
his moral conduct, charged him with ignorance
aud insufficiency! The name of the learned and
primitive Archbishop Usher, equally cherished
by Episcopfdiaus and Presbyterians, also stands
iu the list of tJie persecuted. Driven from Ire-
land, bis native country, by the rebellion, he fled
to England, and on being nominated one of the
members of the Westminster Assembly, he de-
clined the appointment; it would indeed have
been a uaeleas office for one whose chief wish
was peace and union, and whose congenial office
was to promot« reconciliation. On the breaking
out of the war his library was seized by the
parliamentarian army; and when the king was
executed, he witnessed the spectacle from the
leads of a house, and nearly died with anguish at
the sight Scarcely inferior to these, may be
mentioned Dr. Thomas Fuller, author of the
CAureh Hittory of Britain, one of the best of
wits, scholan, aud historians, and withal so
liberal iu his views, that while the Puritans re-
jected bim as an Episcopalian, his own brethren
suspected bim of being a Furitao ; and William
Cbillingworth, the able controversial champion
of Protestantism against Popery ; and Dr. Co-
sin, who, after heiug imprisoned, plundered of
all his property, and driven into exile, was at the
Kestoration ap;>ointed Bishop of Durham, and was
renowned as the moat munificent prelAt« who
had ever held that almost regal office. To these,
several others might be added of the chief men ,
; of the English church, who were the renowned
I of their age for learning, talent, and piety, but
I whose high worth was of little account in such a
struggle, while it only made them more conspi-
cuoua marks for deprivation, persecution, and
I ejection. But though all this was haid n:

is gratifying to think that nothing worse w,
' dieted. This was the more praiseworthy a

,v Google

752

niSTOEY OF ENGLAND.

[ItBUOIOK.

part of their persecutors, when we remember
the provoc&tioQH with which the latter had been
tried. The day of their triumph had arrived,
and the opportunity of retaliation waatheirown;
hut ereu then, if the scourges, the mutilating
knives, aod brendiog-irons of Laud were remem-
bered, it was onlj aa examples to be condemned
nnd ftvotded.

While it thus fared with the great lighta of
the church, the inferior clergy could not expect
to escape. A new church was to be aet up, and
therefore the demolition of the old was naturally
the order of the day. In a petitionary remon-
etnmce, presented by Dr. Garden to the pro-
tector, one-half of the ministers and scholars of
England and Wales were stated to have been
excluded from their church livings, college fel-
lowships, and charge of free schoola ; and when
to these, curates, chaplains, and persons in pre-
paration for sacred orders were added, the num-
bers thus deprived wei-e eupposed to amonnt to
10,000.' But what crime had they committedl
It was enough that they were arrayed against a
new order of things, which they were powerless
to avert, but which they still continued to op-
jioae. It was the constant assertion of the roy-
aliats, that although some of the offences charged
ngaiuBt the ejected clergy were capital, there was
a. want of suflicieat proof; that the witnesses
were seldom examined ou oath ; that many of the
complfuners were factious peraons; that some of
the clergy were unjustly accused of holding false
doctrine; and that the real fault, in many cases,
was loyalty. But in turning to the account of
Baxter, to which we have already adverted, a
large proportion of these deprivations, inflicted
by Cromwell's triert, appear to have been only
too necessary, and that religion and national
morality were all the better of the purification.
Fuller, in his own quaint style, takes a middle
course, and endeavours to show both the evil
and the good. " As much corruption," he says,
" was let out by this ejection (many scandalous
ministers deservedly punished), so, at the same
time the veins of the English church were also
emptied of much good blood (some inoffensive
pastors), which hath made her body hydropical
ever since, ill-humours succeeding in the room,
by reason of too large and sudden evacuation."'

We have already seen how much the Restora-
tion was the work of the Presbyterians. The
due limitation, not the abrogation of the kingly
rule, WAS their favourite political principle, in
opposition to that of the Independents and sec-
taries, who were wholly for a republic. It was
tliii that made the Presbyterians and royalists

euffMnf iifau Clrr^vfOx Ckur-A qfBtiglamt, bf John Walkar
> PallM*! Owck Mii^m. ant. iiU. book il. pv. SI.

much at one in effecting the rec&l of Charles
, and drove them afterwards more widely
asunder than ever when the terms of that resto-
ration became the subject of question. When
the event occurred, there could be no doubt as
to the restoration of the church along with the
monarchy; for Juion,who had attended the late
king on the scaffold, was appointed Archbishop of
Canterbury, while Sheldon was made Bishop of
London, and Morley, the friend of Lord Falk-
land, Bishop of Worcester. Bst aa yet the Pres-
byterians were not to be discountenanced, and
therefore the most eminent of their preachers
admitted as chaplains in ordinary to tlie
king. So strong was still the fiarty, that, not-
witlistandingthe numerous repositions of the old
Episcopal clergy into their former charges, the
Presbyterians were possessed of most of the great
benefices of the church, chiefly in the city of
London, and in the two universities. On account
therefore of their political influence, a scheme of
comprehension was suggested by the principal
statesmen, that would enable the Presbyterian
clergy to continue in the church, and retain their
benefices and clerical position. But to this con-
ciliatory plan the bishops were opposed : they
declared that it was safer to have a schism oW of
the church than within it; and thus, instead of
conciliating the Presbyterians, they thought it
better to eject them, and have their places filled
with miDisters devoted to royalty and Episcopal^.
This plan was agreeable to the king, but from a
deeper cause than the bishops suggested. He
was ali-eady, though in secret, a Papist, and in
the deprivation of the Presbyterians, he oould
anticipate the restoration of Popery. He knew
that by oppressing this numerous and influential
body, he could compel them to demand tolera-
tion; and this toleration he was determined not
to grant, unless it was so comprehensive aa to
include the Roman Catholics within its benefits.*
For the furtherance of this scheme it was ne-
cessary to hoodwink Episcopalians and Presby-
terians alike; and under the pretext of a plan of
comprehension, the leaders of the latter party
were invited to an audience of the king at the
lodgings of the Earl of Manchester, the lord-
chamberlain. Baiter was their spokesman ; and
to the eloquent pleading of the author of the
SuintJ Evfiiastinff /lest, Cliarles listened with a
show of great cordiality. The speaker declared
that it was not for Presbyterians, or for any
party as such, that he was pleading, but for the
religious portion of his majesty's subjects at large.
He showed how advantageous a union would be
to the king, tlie people, and the bishops them-
selves; and that to accomplish such a union was

• Bnnut'i Mutorf i>rkii Ot

.*oi.i.inr8,n

,v Google

1 1660—1689.]

HISTORY OF RELIGION.

753

iMiy, by Adopting for its basU only mch things
SB were absolutely necessary ; to wit, the true ei-
ercise of chnrch discipline; and to Avoid the cast-
ing out of faithful ministers whose conscieDcea
would urge them to eiercise such discipline, as
well ka obtruding incompetent and naworthy
clei^ymen upon the people. The king expressed
his entire approbation of these moderate, con-
ciliatory sentiments, uid hia resolution to co-
operate in giving tbem effect. Such a union, he
thought, might be accomplished i and for that
purpose he would bring the two parties together
liimself. As it was evident, however, that they
could only be united, not by any one party at-
tempting to bring over the other to its views, but
by each conceding some points, and meeting on a
common, ground, he wished to know what coa-
ceasiona the Presbyterians were witling to-make
Ui the Episcopalians on tfae subject of church
government, and desired them to draw up their
)iix>posals to that effect. Cheered by this prospect
ot peace, the Presbyterian leaders assembled their
brethren together at Sion College in London, and,
after much anxious debate,. adopted Archbishop
Usher'a model of church government, as the form
of eceleaiaatical polity to which they were will-
ing to Bubtnit. This ptan, which the archbishop
had formulated many years before, under the title
of a " Reduction of Episcopacy,* was in the eyes
of high-church Episcopalians, as well as c
Scottish Preabyteri, a reductio ad abturdunt, for
it was of such a moderate compromising charac-
ter, that both parties rejected it alike. It bore
the same relation to each, that a mixed monarchy
possesses in reference to the monarchic and re-
publican rule, and was composed, as its admirers
judged, of the best parts of both. It was to have
a primate or archbishop to preside over the pro-
vince, and a bishop for each diocese, aa before,
with sui&agans for the rural deaneries; but these
different functionaries were to act only throogh
their synodal meetings, of which they were to be
the constant and legitimate, instead of temporary
and elective moderator, while these eonrts, from
that of the suiTiagan to the primate, were model-
led upon the presbyteries, synods, and general bs-
semblies of the Kirk of Scotland. Thns far the
English Presbyterians were willing to go; an
the S2d of October (1660), the day appointed for
the conference, they repaired te the royal presence.
But here they found themselves alone; the op-
|M>aite party were not in attendance; and although
the king assured them that the biahopa would be
forthcoming with their conceasiona, the Presbyte-
rian ministers received nothing more than a long
protest from the bishops against each and every
part of their proposal. Prafesaing their earnest
desire for peace in the church, they could not see
how this conld be effected by the proposals of
Vol. 11.

the Presbyterians : on the contrary, they alleged
that these would only be productive of new dif-
ferences, by displeasing the best part of his ma-
jesty's aubjecte, who were satisfied with what
already estabUshed, and by encouraging the
turbulent of every class of Dissenters to make
still further demands. To their objections Bat-
ter wrote a long reply. "This," he indignantly
addresses them, "is your way of conciliation f
When you were to bring in your utmost conces-
aiona in order to our unity, and it was promised
by his majesty that you should meet ns half-
way, you bring in nothing; and you persuade his
majesty also that he should not believe ua in
what we oiTer— that it would not be sstisfactoiy
if it were granted !* After briefly answering- their
objections, he adds, " In conclnsion, we perceive
that your counsels affairutpraee are not likely to
be frustrated. Your desires concerning us are
likely to be accomplished. You are likely to be
gratified with our silence, and ejection, and the
excommunication and consequent suHeringa of
Dissenters. And yet we will believe, that 'blessed
are the peace-makers ;' and though deceit be in
the heart of them that imagine evil, yet there is
joy to the oounsellors of peace. And though we
are stopped by you in our following of peace,
and are never likely thus publicly to seek it more,
because you think we must hold our tengues that
yott may hold your peace; yet, we are resolved,
by the help of Ood, 'if it be possible, and as
much as Usth in un, to live peaceably with all

On the asth of October, only three days after
this conference, the " Healing Declaration,' as it
was termed, made its appearance. It wsb en-
titled—"His majesty's declaration to all his lov-
ing subjects of his kingdom of England and do-
minion of Wales, concerning ecclesiastical aETairs;'
and had it been published in good faith, and with
a ^ncere design for the furtherance of the com-
mon Protestentiam, it might have united the two
great parties, and been indeed a healing of their
mntmd dissensions. This was evident from the
mode of its reception; for while the Episcopalians
eulogized it as the very spirit of true wisdom and
charity, the Presbyterian clergy of London and its
neighbonrhood weh;omed it with an address of
thanks to the king. It did not, indeed, go so far
OB they wished in the establishment of a future
government of the church, but still they felt that
much had been conceded; and while they thanked
hia majesty for a declaration bo full of "indulgence
and gracious condescension," they promised their
utmost endeavours to heal the breaches, and pro-
mote the peace and union of the church. Charles
in his reply said, " I will endeavour to give all
satisfaction, and to make you as happy ■■ myself."

• Google

7S4

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Re..

He was BS deep a dissembler an his bther or
grandfather, while liia diaaimulation was all the
more dangerous, thnt it was accompanied with
such A show of cheerful, straight-tor ward frank-
ue^ Encouraged h;^ the prospect of affairs. Dr.
Reynolds, one of the moat eminent of the Pres-
byterian ministers, accepted the biahopric of Nor-
wich, and another. Dr. Man-
ton, accepted the living of
Cogent Garden, and con- *"•.-.:

■ented to receive Episcopal ~^ --afe

investment from the Bishop
of London. But suspicious
of the sincerity of the king,
or more probably being ap-
prehensive that the declarn-
tion would not be passed
into law by the House of
Commons, a attll greater
number rejected the ofTered
preferments. Thus, Baiter
refused the bishopric of
Hereford, Dr. Bates the
deanery of Lichfield, and
Hr. Bowles that of York.
The result justified their
scruples. The "Healing De-
claration,' on being present- T"" «*to»
ed t« the commons, was lost
by a majority of 183 to 151; and lost, not
through the Episcopalian zeal of the house, but
the intrigues of the king, the Earl of Claren-
don, and the bishops, who had no real inten-
tion that it should pass into law. Thus, when
too late, the Presbyterians found that they had
been lured on, to be duped .^d disappointed.
Conformity to the Established .church was now
the law; and the striotness wrth which it would
be enforced was shown in the diainterment of
the bodies of the regicides from sacred ground,
and. their expomtre on gibbets, which was the
next act of the Convention Parliament. Even
Venner's mad insurrection formed a ground for
prohibitingall large meetings of the sectaries, and
for insulting and persecuting the Presbyterians.
The drift of all this was annovmoed in plain, ex-
pre« language by Clarendon to the parliament,
when he told them, that some men would stiU

preach and write improperly, but that theaa
should Boou be reduced by law t« obedience.

It was in this state of trial for the Presbyte-
rians that the memorable Savoy Conference was
assembled. It was so called, because its meet-
ings, which were to continue four months from
the 2Sth of March, 1661, were held at the Kshop

'ikucx.1— FroBiTiairlijO. V«tiH,dnini lulIM.

of London's lodgings in the Savoy. The pro-
posed object was the tinion of the two great re-
ligious parljes, and this, chiefly, by a revision of
the Book of Common Prayer. On the side of
the Established church were twelve bishops,
with nine assistants ; on that of the Presbyte-
rians, an equal number of learned clergymen and
laymen. Seldom, indeed, hod such an amount
of logic and scholarship met on one arena. But
are these the weapons most available for the
settling of religious disagreement, and the pro-
motion of Christian concord? The proceedings
were opened on the 13th of April, by Sheldon,
the new Bishop of London, who declared that
this meeting had not been called by his party,
who were satisfied with the Liturgy as it was,
but by the other, who were therefore bound to
elate their objections, and bring forward their
proposals. On the other hand, the Presbyterians

' Thii p«lmm o( the S«»Dy, on Ibl huki of (hs Thalnn,

Queen Eliuheth. The niebntod Biroj Confenva. for tbe

Birl of Otioj ud Richmond, luid anclo of ElMnor, Quwn of

roTirion of the Lilnrjy of the Chun:h of EngUnd. wu hold tnw

Fnno, wu OJDHned mer thi hatlln of Foictiin, and ohsn he

ibo dlnd, on 1 >uhwqntnt vltjt to thit umntrr not lonR ift«r

.ery minou. end dnii.l<)iiUd condition. At thie Time, beuta

hi* niHH. In lasi, ohm It wu the mldenn of the ob-

being emplojod u ■ rallitirj pri«.n. It oontaJMil the k[i«^

Borlaae John of Oeniit. It wu bunid bj tt» nbele under W*t

prtnt1ng-p™«, the ohspal of St. M»rTlt-S»Toj, ud thna gr

Tjler- ind iftar thi> eient ipiHUm to Uva eiieled u 1 rail, till

John Ih, B.ptW, far the r.ll.f of IW poor i«rl.. In 155n th.

nothing now nnuini bat the chapel of SI. Hijlt-Bttai, t,bm

refkrndto

»Google

A.D. 1680—1689.]

HISTORY OP RELIGION.

755

wen desirous of settling the question bj oral
coatroveny and diBcuaaion. At length, thej
Agreed to produce their objectiona all at i
and in writing, and thereby fell into the trap
that had been laid for them. "Sheldon saw n
says Burnet, " what the effect would be of putting
them to make all their denaudH at once : the
number of them raised a mighty outcry against
them, as people that could never be aatiafied."
It is intereating to mark the objections
tained in theae papers, aa indicating theviei
the PreBbyteriana id this period, and the terms
on which they were willing to conform. "They
moved (the reverend historian adda) that Bishop
Usher's " Reduction" should be laid down as a
groundwork to treat on ; that bishops should
not govern their diocese by their single authority,
nor depute it to lay officers in their courts; but
should, in matters of ordination and jurisdiction,
take along with them the counsel and concur-
rence of the presbyters. They did offfer seve-
ral exceptions to the Liturgy, against the many
responiea by the people; and they desired all
might be made one continued prayer. They de-
sired that uo lessons should be taken out of the
Apocryphal books ; that the psalms used in the
daily service should be according to the new
translation. They excepted to many porta of the
office of baptism, that Import the iuirord regene-

ratioD of all that were baptized They in-

siated mainly against kneeling at the sacrament of
the Lord's Supper, chiefly against the imposing it;
and moved that the posture might be left free;
and that the use of the surplice, of the cross in
baptiam, of god-fathers being the aponsors in bap-
tism, and of the holidays, might be abolished.*

But these proposals, unpalatable as they were,
and unlikely to be accepted, did not constitute
either the head and front of Presbyterian offence,
or the limit at which it atopped short Baxter,
who headed bis brethren in the conference, ima-
gined, in hia aiwplicity, that, from the words of
the commission, his party " were bound to offer
everything that they thought might conduce to
the good or peace uf the church, without con-
sidering what was like to be obtained, or what
effect their demanding so mucli might have in
irritating the miuds of those who were then the
superior body in strength and number." He
therefore thought that, after offering so many

objections againat the Liturgy, they were bound,
iu honour and conscience, to present a new one,
that should be less objectionable and more per-
fect thantheold. Upouthisproposalhis brethren
were divided; aimieof them being of opinion that
it would be wisest to limit their demands to a
few important matters for the sake of effecting
a union, and that, when this was accomplished,
the other changes would follow. But having
overruled their scruples, he sat down to the task,
and composed a new national Liturgy iu a fort-
night! The feat would have been incredible in
any other, than one whose authorship comprises
three huge folios, and 197 smaller works. But
excellent though the production, entitled the
" Reformed Liturgy," undoubtedly was, and ai>-
proved of by the Presbyterian commissioners,
who were able and scrupubna judges, it was in-
dignantly rejected by the other ™rty without
examination. At length the controversy was
narrowed to this single question — " Is it lawful
to determine the certain use of things indifferent
in the worship of God }* and was to be condueted
bj three champioua on each aide, by oral diapu-
tation. This intellectual tournament lasted seve-
ral days, and might have lasted for years, for the
two cliief disputants, Baxter and Gunning,' were
men of inexhaustible foi'ensic resources, the for-
mer being a refining metaphysician, and the lat-
ter a dexterous at^ist. The result of such a
contest was only to piomote "the diversion of
the town, who thought here were a couple of
fencers engaged in disputes that could never be
brought to an end, nor have any good effect.*
Of the captiouancas and frivolity into which it
lid descend, one specimen will suffice. On
! occasion Baxter observed, " Such things will
offend many good men in the nation." St«am,
Archbishop of York, snatched at the expression
9 if he had found a treasure, and exclaimed.
He will not say kingdom, but natton, because
he will not acknawledge a king.* When the days
for holding the commisaion were ended, nothing
had been aettled, nothing coucaded; allwosssit
had formerly stood, but with the addition of ssch
amount of auger and resentment as widened
the breach between the two parties, and made
their reconciliation more hopeless.

After the Savoy Conference had closed, the
bishops resolved to improve their advantage by

' Dt- GuQJBff. vba Kftan^uUa wju pnootAd ta
of Chkhen<r, ind ttvaa of Ely. *■> ons of thw
WRHichamlHl ttnokigliiH iml gnUinaluli, wlm

IB grmphlfl ricttch of hi'
An DBB Uriag liktnflH t

nWotj of u^ng.

.1 tha uu of niihirtry «i

»Google

766

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[BnjDiM.

making the law of cooformity more atringent
than ever. Lectarera, of nhom a very great part
ot the Preabyterian. clergy DOW con uited, were
to be placed, as to oaths and aubscriptioiia, in the
same condition with incumbenta; and all were to
be equally obliged to subscribe an nnfeigoed
assent and consent to all things and eveiTthing
contained and preacnbed in the Boi^ of Ctunmou
Prayer. They were to declare tbe League and
Covenant unkwfnl and traitorous ; and thus
those who had taken it were to subscribe their
own condemnation. Foreign ordinations were
nullified; and none could hold aa ecclesiastical
benefice in England unless tbej were episcopallj
ordained. Alterations and additions were also
introduced into the Book of Common Prayer; but
especial cars was taken that no change which had
been proposed by tbe Presbyterians should be
adopted. These changes, too, were either trivial
in themselvel, or such as could only further
offend a Presbyterian conscience. Among them
wasacollect for the parliament, in which Cliarlee
n. was the first of English sovereigns who was
styled "our most religious king;' an expression
so utterly at variance with his whole character,
SB to shock the feelings of the sensitive, and ei-
cite the merriment of the profane. New holi-
days were added, such as that of St. Barnabas
and the Conversion of St. Paul, and new lessons
introduced from the Apocrypha; and, in particu-
hu-, the romance of Bel and the Bnigon. The
30th of January, the day of the late king's exe-
cution, was now the day of " King Charles the
Martyr," and to be commemorated by a. religious
office drawn up for the occasion; and another
was appointed for the 2Sth of May, the date of
bis majesty's birth and happy restoration. In
this way the recusants were to be met at every
point, while not a loophole was left for evasion,
or comer (or concealment. By subscribing these
requisitions, they mu«t utterly alijure and re-
nounce their (Perished Presbyterian ism, and sign
themselves the implicit liegemen and serfs of
passive obedience, non-resistance, and complete
Episcopal rule, or abandon their livings in the
church, and expose themselves to fine and perse-
cution. This act for uniformity in the pnblic
prayers and ceremonies of the Church of England
wan introduced into parliament; and, to insnre
its acceptance, the members were t«rrifled by
rs of Presbyterian plots in several counties.
B it passed by only a major-

ity of six, and in tlie lords it was treated witli
almost equal repugnaii<». It received the rofil
assent ou the lOtli of May, 1662 ; and, as if to
make the execution of the act more oppttsnTe
than the act itself, the subscription of the Pres-
byterian ministers was to be given on tlie £4th
of August. Thus, only three months and a fer
days were allowed them to deliberate upon a lUp
where their all was at stake. And where, ui tbe
meantime, was this new Liturgy, which it be-
hoved them to read and study before they eouhl
honestly assent to it 1 As yet it was but a Uot-
ted MS,, or only in the bauds of the printera;
and, owing to the numerous corrigenda, not i
copy was forthcoming.' In the meantime the
fatal period was closing, and had closed fut
upon them, with a malignity which we miglit
have thought could have found no home excepi
in the recesses of a Spanish or Italian inqni-
sitjon. The season pitched upon was ons by
whicli the ejected would lose the revenues of
a whole year, as the tithes were not due till
Michaelmas; and thus many of the countrr
clergy could have no prospect fqr themselves unl
families, but that of destitution or dovnrigbt
starvation. But the settlement of Uie preciM
day had also occasioned an awkward coinddawe,
of which the persecutors apparently bad nc'c
dreamed until it was too late — for, of all dip, i'
was the day of St. Bartholomew ! — the one buJI
remembered with a shudder in Protestant fiif
land, as that of the hideous Parisian nusatae.'
On the Sabbath preceding tbe £4th of Anguil,
the devoted ministers preached their fue'tH
sermons to weeping congregations; and whefi It*
fatal day arrived, 2000 pulpits in England were
left empty. Such, it is generally aupposed,""
the number of ministers who, for conscience' ralt'i
abandoned their incumbencies and lecturrahite.
sacrificed their domestic competence, litenuy "V
portunities, and pi-oapecla of church idv»nM-
ment, and went forth into a tliankless, hoetils
world, not knowing what might next befall ItW-
Thus, by a process of quick and deepeis'*
decision, which Elizabeth herself would not h">'
ventured, and at which even her imperious fithfr
would have paused and trembled, the long-oi*'
ing difficulty was solved by being cut ssuoder
One trenchant blow effected what a century of
royal edicts and learned discnasions had bMi
unable to achieve. The Puritan element «m
thrown out at last; and every party in wliifh i'

1 "Th« Book of CDmnum Pt%ytt, wilh iba pnit i
WB tbut to which tb«T "an to ni)HTlt» But tht
won » iDDf m pnpuinf, *Dd th*Tut hdmboiof a
WOO, that <nn lo ba wraicfat off for all tha puriih
■ngluiil. DudB the impniBloii (o on h ilowly. that
kw booki aM out ID nh wtuo the duf aunt. Ho,
van mil (ffaoM to the dmrrh, bat tiuil mad* «

that TerTMOoimt. BiBinnMde»JouniortDl«ii*n""P^
• to ...it. Wlth«,o«bp»dplt.Uo««.«ta*_^

" Tha Piabjlarluw n

>ddMnota(loktDoamFantbaoi>etDttoo(h<r'-'

,v Google

I 1660—1689.]

mSTOKY OF REIJOION.

had been imperaoniitad — PrMbyUriaiiB, Indepeu-
d«Dta,and sectaries— wtreahutont of the churcb,
and kept out hy an impaaaable barrier, eo that
henceforth they must be sects »pftrt and bj them-
selves, instead of fonuing a portion of the great
national religioua Establishment. It was a haz-
ardous process, and as cruel as it was faazsrdouB.
Bat why was English Presbyterianism let dowu
so easily, and suffered to fail without a blow ? It
iiad never been in this Aksbion that so large a
party of Englishmen had stood stili when their
highent and best interests had been at stske. But
we must still ksepiu mind that Presbyterianisra
was not a plant of the English soil ; that its
growth had been that of an exotic; and that the
causes which hitherto had fostered it into such
sudden luxoriauce existed no longer. Its decay
was therefore eo certain, and so natural, tfaat its
downfall was only a question d time and cir-
cumstance. Bat Puritanism, though thus driven
beyond the pale of the church, and left to its own
resources, was not to pass away when its title
and political standing had perished. Under the
labours of the self-denying ejected ntiuisters of
the St Bartholomew act, its principles were still
kept alive, and the Puritans themselves still con-
tinned to exist under the new name of English
Nonconformists. The leading events of their
further history, as well as that of the church it-
self, until we find both parties united for the final
expulsion of Popery and the Stuarts in 1689, have
been so fully detailed in the civil and militaiy
proceedings of this period, as to make further
mention of them unnecessary.

The leading incidents of the Scottish church,
during this period, were of so political a charac-
ter that they have been fully related in this
work under their proper head. A brief notice,
therefore, of only a few inc^idental points, will be
necessary to place the whole subject before the
view of the reader.

The restoraUon of Charles If. to the throne
was an event which was hailed with still greater
hopes in Scotland than even in England. For the
king was a Stuart, aud therefore a child of the
nation; he had solemnly sworn to the Solemn
League and Covenant, and would therefore, at
least, be tolerant of Preabyteriauiam. The Scots,
even while warring against his father, had enter-
tained no sympathy with the republican views of
&igland, but, on the contrary, had contended for
the continuation of kingly rule; and the death of
Cromwell had been their signal for re-action to
promote the restoration of the royal exile. But
a very short time sufficed to show to them the
worthlessness of the man of their choice, as well
as the fallacy of their hopes. The country nnd
home of Presbyterian ism was to be visited with a
tenfold portion of that severity which was await-

Btate was formed for the administration of Scot-
tish affairs, sufficiently indicative of the most hos-
tile purposes; for the Earl of Middleton, a rapa-
cious, dissolute, and merciless soldier of fortune,
was appointed royal commissioner, with men of
similar stamp for his chief officials and assis-
tants. Snch statesmen were soon able to pack n
subservient parliament, and rule the country as
they pleased; and they were not slow to avail
themselves of the opportunity. Early in 1661
they passed the act of supremacy, by which the
king was made supreme in all matters, ecclesias-
tical as well as civil; and the oath of allegiance,
by which the denial of that supremacy was visited
with the penalties of high treason. In this way,
all for which the nation had been contending for
years was prostrated by a single stroke, and an
ample ground prepared for the persecutions which
afterwards ensued. But even this headlong
career was not fast enough for " Middleton'a Par-
liameut," as it was usually called, which geneisUy
transacted business after a debauch, and while
their heads were still reeling with intoxication;
and, tired of abrogating, one bj one, the acta of
former Scottish parliaments for the liberties of
the church and the subject, they at last pro-
ceeded to sweep them away by wholesale. This
was done by what was tilled the " Rescissory
Act," which decreed that all the proceedings de-
vised and established for reformation, between
the yean 1638 and 1690, were rebellious and
treasonable, iucluding the Solemn League and
Covenant itself, and the memorable Assembly of
QlssgDw in 1638, in which Episcopacy had been
overthrown. Resolutions so mad and so despotic
were the inevitable precursors of msrtyrdom, for
they could only be confirmed by shedding the
beat blood of the country; and accordingly, soon
after, the Hsrquis of Argyle, the champion of
Presbyterianism, and James Guthrie, one of the
most devoted of its ministers, were hurried
through an iniquitous trial, condemned, and exe-
cuted. In August, 1661, or leas than three montha
after these executions, a letter from the king
was received by the Scottish council, iu which
Charles, after denouncing the national Presby-
terian polity as inconsistent with a monarchic
govei'nment, thus briefly announced his sove-
reign purpose ; " Wherefore we declare our firm
resolution to interpose our royal authority for
restoring the Church of Scotland to its right
government by biahops, as it was before the late
troubles." When the apostate, James Slisrp, had
sold his brethren and his church to their enemies,
and been guerdoned with the archbishopric of
St. Andrews, which made him Primate of Scot-
land, it was easy to guess the nature of this

,v Google

758

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

[H,

" right govemmeat by biahopo," ftnd vbetber it I
would be worthy of the name.

Bat thongh Epbeopacj was thna snnunuily
ratablished by royal decree, and although Sharp ,
and his staff of Dorthem prelates were inducted
into their dioceses, the Fresbyterian clergy still
held their living, anil performed their duties as
before. But it was intolerable to the rulers of
the royal church, that while these men were fol-
lowed by the people, they should themselves be
left without subjects to rule, or hoiuage to flatter
them. Their diocesan meetings were almost
empty, and their sway unacknowledged. They
iximplained to Middleton of this neglect, and the
commissiouer resolved to make a tour in person,
to redress their grievances and establish their
authority. His progress, on this occasion, ac-
companied by his associates, was more like that
of a rabbjement of drunken bacchanals than of
guardians and lagislatora of the church, or even
conservators of the public peace. On arriving at
Glasgow, Fairfoul, its archbishop, compluned tjiat
not one of the ministers had owned hie author-
ity ; and the remedy he proposed was as truculent
as it well could be. This was, to denounce eject-
ment from their manses, livings, and charges, of
all ministers admitted since 1649, when patronage
WAS abolished, unless they obtained a presenta-
tion from the lawful patron, and collation from
the bishop of the diocese, before the Ist of No-
vember. Middleton and his counsellors caught
at this strange expedient. " Duke Hamilton told
me," says Bnmet, " they were all so drunk that
day that they were not capable of considering
anything that was laid before them, and would
hear of nothing but executing the law, without
any relenting or delay. They would not even
extend the day of grace to the 1st of November,
but appointed the 4th of October instead, by
which less than a month's warning was left to
the recusants. In this case the atrocities of the
Bartholomew's Day of England were to be re-
peated, but with aggravBtions; and, in spit« of
the warning given by the English exanifJe, Fair-
foul asserted that not ten ministers in all his
diocese would incur deprivation by refusing to
comply. But, to the astonishment of these be-
sotted statesmen and their worldly-wise adviser,
400 ministers preferred the abandonment of their
homes, and a life of wandering and destitution,
rather than violate their consciences. Even then,
too, the example of England was not lost upon
these devoted clei^^ymen, who, with their fami
lies, embraced this terrible alternative in th
trying severities of a uorthsm winter. "Scot-
land was never witness," says Wodrow, " to such
a Sabbath as the last on which tliose mluiaters
preached; and I know no patsilel to it, sav<
17th of August, to the Fresbyterians in England.'

To supply this unexpected and astounding blank
with a new deigy, waa now the difficulty of tbe
bishops; and, accradiagly, raw uneducated lads,
and other characters still more unfit by their
moral disqualifications, were thrust into the *a-
<%nt charges. " They were the worst preaehent
ir heard,* is the candid omfemni of Bnr-
" they were ignorant to a reproach, and
many of them were openly vicious. They were
" grace to their orders and the sacred fnnetioD,
and were, indeed, the dr^s and refiue of the
northern parts. Thoae of them who arose above
empt or scandal, were men of such violent
tempers that they were as much hated aa tbe
others were despised."

In the meantime, the dispossessed cierf^y became
more formidable in their wanderings than they
could have been in their peaceful homes. Tbeir
sincerity had been tested and proven; and every-
where among the people, by whom they were
regarded as martyrs, they were certain to find
willing and enthusiastic followera. Conventiclea
and field-meetings, therefore, became the order of
the day; and, in such a country sa Scotland, it
was easy to find places for these proscribed as-
semblieswhich espionage could not easily discover,
or armed violence approach with safety. Those
almost inacoesdble swamps and rock-girdled re-
cesses, among which national liberty had fonnd
a shelter in the days of Wallace and Brace, were
now the meeting- places of those children of the
Covenant, who could no longer enter a church
withont abjuring the priucipjes for which they
were ready to sacrifice their alL To break up
these conventicles was now the aim of the Scot-
tish statesmen and faishops ; and while troops of
horse and foot were employed for the purpose,
those wretched clergymen who had been thrust
into the places of the ejected became the scouts
and B{Mes of the persecutors, and led them on to
the place of onslaught. The land was laid under
military execution; the soldiers were irresponsi-
ble judges, who tried and punished in their own
savage fashion; and when their unfortooate vic-
tim was spared from death or torture, it was only
that he might be beggared by fines or wasted by
imprisonment. And then came the natoral and
irresistible re-action. Maddened by their suffer-
ings, the Covenanters turned upon their c^pjK«i-
sors; but being almost without arms, discipline,
and leaders, even the energy of despair was in-
sufficient to make head against their well-tiained.
well-appointed adversariea. In tbe civil depart-
ment of this work, an account baa been given of
the chief of these armed insurrections at the
Pentland Hills, and the relentless spirit in which
it was punished. The long course of persecution
that followed, and the insane outbreak fd ■
handful of the siifferers in the murder of tli*

»Google

*.D. 1860-1680.]

HISTORY OF RELIGION.

759

infuaona Archbishop Sharp, httve also been de-
tailed. This kat eveat, by exposing the whole
bodj to additional ontngea, compelled them agaiu
to itand upon the defensive ; and the defeat of
Gnharo of ClaverhouBe, the model hero of the
rojaliata, at Dramcli^ iu which he wai igno-
miniouslj baffled and chased off the field by a
handful of half-anued peasaDti, appeared to ]!»-
tify their ttoIdaesB. The battle of Bothwell Bridge
Eucceeded, ia which the Corenantera were ut-
terly defeated, and the bopeleMoeas of their
afFatis confirmed. Bat even in thia fiercest ex<
plosion of Covenantiug resistance, there was,
strictly apeaking, no disloyalty of purpose in
the oppressed ^ — vo thought of disturbing mo-
narchy, or displacing the king. All they sought
was liberty to assemble and worship Ood undia-
lurbed, whether in peaceful huta or upon the
lonely hillside, while they abhorred the charge
of rebellion. These aentimenta were distinctly
expressed, in their last momenta, by Kid and
King, two Presbyterian miniatart, who had been
dragged as prisonera by ClaTerhouae to Drum-
clog, where they were released by the victors,
and who had been ted against their will to Both'
well Bridge, from which, after exhorting their
countrymen, but in vain, to return to their peace-
ful obedience and non-reMatance, they had taken
the opportunity of eacafung before the battle
commenced. And yet, aftor being tortured with
the boots, they were brought to the scaffold
rebels and leaders of the iD8urgent& " For
bellion against his majesty's person or lawful
authority," exclaimed Kid, in his dying speech,
" the Lord knows my soul abhorreth it, name and
thing. Loyal I have been, and will every Chi
tian to be so ; and I was ever of this judgment,
to give to Cfesar the thing! that are Cffsar's, and
to God the things that are God'a.' " 1 thank
God,* said hia companion in Buffering to the
crowd assembled round the scaffold, "my heart
doth not condemn me of any disloyalty. I have
been loyal, and do recommend to all to be obe-
dient to the higher powers in the Lord. And
that I preached at field-meetings, which ia the
other ground of my sentence, I am so far from
acknowledging that the gospel preached that way
was a rendezvousing in rebellion, as it is termed,
that I bleaa the Lord that ever counted me worthy
to be a witness to such meetings, which have
been so wonderfully countenanced and owned,
not only to the conviction, but even to the con-
version of many thousands. That I preached
up rebellion, and rising In arms against autho-
rity, I bless the Lord my conscience doth not
condemn me in this, it never being my design.
If I could have preached Christ, and salvation in
his name, that was my work; and herein have 1
walked according to the light and rule of the

Word of God, and as it did become (though one
of the meanest) a minister of the gospel." Such
were tha principles for which no punishment was
thought too great ; such the men whose heads
and qnartera, after the punishment of hanging,
were ignominiously exposed over the town-gates.
During these years of trial and calamity, in
which DO age, or sex, or condition was spared,
the long roll of the persecutors, and the variety
and fiendishness of ita items, could only be paral-
leled by that of the I>uke of Alva in the Nether-
lands. The heart sickens over it, and the eye
turns away with disguat ; but out of the list we
may select only one instance, and that, too, by
no means the moat revolting. Daring this period
of suffering for the truth— in which Christianity
waa not peace sent on earth, but a aword— and
when kindred hearta were parted asunder by
higher claims than those of tha closest earthly
relationship — it happened that Gilbert Wilson, a
farmer in Wigtonahire, with his wife, had con-
formed to Prelacy, while his two daughters, Mar-
garet and Agnes, the former eighteen, and the
other only thirteen years old, adhered to the
oppressed Presbyterians. For this, such help-
less girls were chased as if they had been armed
men, and obliged to seek shelter among the bleak
mountains and morasses, until they were appre-
hended. On this the father hastened to Edin-
burgh, and by the payment of a heavy sum ob-
tained the life of Agnes, hia little one. Gut no
mercy was to be extended to Margaret ; she was
sentenced to die, and that, too, in the old Scot^
lisb mode of drowning reserved for female male-
factors, by being bound to a stake planted in the
sea within Aood-mark, near her native Wigton,
To another stake was bound an old woman, aged
sixty-three, also one of these dreaded overtumers
of kings and govemmenta. At the place of exe-
cution, Margaret Wilson was urged by her rela-
tions to save her life by taking the oath of im-
plicit allegiance, and promising to attend the
ministrations of the curate; but she had come to
die, not to apostatize, and their entreaties were
in vain. The tide advanced, and the old woman,
who was nearest the sea, was struggling and
smothering amidst the waves. " Margaret, what
do you think of jour friend now?" cried some,
either in acorn or hoping that she would yet
relent; but the intrepid girl, still undaunted at
the fate which so soon would be her own, replied,
"What do I see but Christ in oue of hia mem-
ber* wrestling there ? Think you that v-e are the
sufferers? No; it is Christ in us, for he sends
none on a warfare upon their own charges." She
engaged in prayer, and the water rose and covered
her; but after a abort space they lifted her up,
and when she had recovered sensation and speech.
Major Windram, who auperinteuded the execu-

»Google

760

HISTORY or ENGLAND.

[Bbuoiom.

tioD, asked her if the would pnj for the king.
"I wiiih' ate repbed, "for the salvation of all
men, and the damnation of Done." " Dear Maf-
gaivt," cried oue of the t^ataoden, " aaj, Ood
BBve the king." Slie anewered calmlj, "Ood
aave bim, if He will, for it is his salvation I
deeire." "Sir, she has said it, she haa said it!"
ahoDted the crowd, who expected thatshe wonid be
forthwith releaaed. Bat this was not enough for
Windram ; and he required her instantly to swear
the abjuration oath, otherwise she must eudnre
her doom. But though dius cruellj tantalized
with hope after she had tasted the bitteraess of
death, the brave young martyr rejected theproifer
by which she must have renounced her brethren
and condemned their cause. "I will not," she
firmly replied; "1 am one of Christ's children; let
me go!" and, at the word, ahe was agun throat
into the water and drowned.

In these peTxecntious, which extended over a
long term of twenty-eight yean, it is supposed
that not leas than 18,000 persons died by regular
execution or military violence, by tortures or pri-
vations— a fearful amount of the beat and bravest,
iu a country whose population scarcely amounted
to 1,000,000 soula. With the accession of James
II., the darkest hour had arrived ; but it was the
hour that precedes the dawn. The conSict wae
no longer to be that of Prelacy agfunst Presby-
terianism, but of both, united into one common
Protestantism, agtunst a cause that was equally
the enemy of both. The blundering and head-
' long career of the new king to restore Great
Britain to the see of Borne was enough to excite
iu Scotland, as well as England, nniversal dis-
trust, and a spirit of geueral resistance. Oi
these egregious errors was his attempt to ingra-
tiate himself with Dissenters of every class op-
posed to the English church, by exempting them
from previous penalties and disabilities, in which
the Papists were to be included. By these acts of
indnlgeuce, published in 1687, in which every
striction was auccessively taken off, except that
against field-meetings, the Presbyterians of both
kingdoms were enabled to aasemble without hin-
derance, and worship without interruption. But
a permission so dangerous to England, from the
numbers of the Papists who shared in the bene-
fits of this new toleration, was of serious hurt to
the royal cause in Scotland, where Popery was at
■0 low an ebb, and where the whole nation was
Presbyterian. When the rising accordingly com-
menced for the expulsion of James, there was a
singleness of purpose on the subject among the
Scots, and a promptness of decision, which was
scarcely found in England. Iu the meantime,
the upholders of Scottish Prelacy felt that their
hour had expired, and were anxious to niake their
escape. Bui before they abdicated their ill-held

oiBces, they made haste to obliterate the foul
B of their cruelty and mismanagement. Ac-
cordingly, the jails were emptied of those impri-
soned Covenanters who were still in durance, the
pending sentences that waited for execution were
reacinded or thrown aside, and the heads and
mangled limbe that for years had been exposed
upon the gates and market-crosses were hastily re-
moved. As for tboae parish incnmbentswho had
held office under the bishops, and who, in many
cases, hod acted as spies upon their flock^ they
were, to the number of about 300, ejected from
their livings by the now tiiumphant populaoe;
but without bloodshed or loss of life, and with
comparatively little personal violence. It was a
marked contrast to their own conduct in the day
of their prosperity. In this way fell that un-
national fabric of Scottish EpTscopacy which
James VI., the first and second Charles, and
James II., had spent more than a centory in
rearing. Scotland was to remain, as she had
been from the first, a Presbyterian country. .

In a former chapter we have narrated the land-
ing of the "Pilgrim Fathers* in New England; and
the foundation of what was nltimately to become
the United States of America. It was according
to the natural order of things, as instanced in the
general history of communities, that the com-
mencement of such a stupendous undertaking
should be indifliculty,andsufiering,and privation.
It is upon such a tooky foundation, and after
such toil, that great nations are raised, and per-
manent institutions established. The coast upon
which they landed was bleak, barren, and un-
healthy; but this proved the only deffnce of these
helpless adventurera against the tribes of wild
Indians, who had no temptation to settle near
such an uninviting spot. The rigours of an
American winter, against which they were so ill
prepared, oune on, and in three months half of
that band of emigranta bad perished, so that
scarcely fifty survived. But though the Jfoy-
Jlower returned to England in the following
spring, not one of the survivors would avail him-
self of the opportunity to quit that strand of
graves and sickness. On the contrary, they
founded their little town of Plymouth, elected a
, new governor in the room of the former one who
hod died, and opened a friendly intercourse with
the nearest tribes, of whom they became the allies
against their enemies, the Narragan setts. On
the 9th of November, 16SI, the Fortune, a small
barque, arrived, bringing thirty-five new settlers;
and by the same vessel the first export of the
colony was embariced for England, consisting of
beaver-skins, and wood of vanous kinds, to the
value of jCSOO. But the Forlune was seized and
plundered by a IVench privateer just when she
had neared the English coast; and, to odd to the

»Google

AD 1660—1689.]

HISTORY OP REUGION.

761

difficnlties of the colouista, a further arrival of
Hrstilute emigracU nearly destrojed the wbole
Bettlement with famine. Even when they were
reduced to their last pint of com, oeven new colo-
nists arrived to ahare it. Singularly enough, even
while the Plymouth brethren were thus destitute,
the spirit of English commercial enterprise had
directed its attention to New England ; and new
colonists arrived upon its shores, animated wilii a
different spirit from that of the Pilgrim Fathen—
men of whose crimes or idleness their own coun-
try had become weary, and whose chief motive
of emigration wu the hope of gain. From the
scantiness of the means of support au additional
settlement was necessary, and this originated, in
1622, the founding of the state of Massachusetts.
But these worthless additions, instead of being a
help, were an incumbrance and a curse to their
peaceful brethren; and their conduct toward the
natives, in 1623, involved the whole colony in
u war with the red hunters of the wilderness.
While these events went onward, new bands of
adventurers continued to arrive from the mother
country, of a better cliaracter than the new colo-
nists of Massachusetts; and while some were of
the common hie of industrious enterprise, and
distinguished by the old established English
names of George, Thomas, and Edward, there
were others whose Puritan appellatives showed
that tliey were of the same religious stock as
the men of Plymouth ; such as Elder Srewster,
Mauaaseh Faunce, Christian Penn, and Experi-
ence Uitclielli Jonathan, Ix)ve, and Wrestling,
tlie sons, and Fear and Patience, the daugh-
ter of Elder Brewster. Stout of heart, and re-
solute in purpose were these comers, although the
first step of their landing convinced them that
this land of promise would also be one of "hope
deferred." They were glatily welcomed by their
old fiienda who had preceded them; but "the
best dish we could present them with," one of them
writes, " is a lobster, or piece of fish, without bread,
or anything else, but a cup of fair spring water;
and the long continnance of this diet, with our
labours nbroad, has somewhat abated the fresh-
ness of our complexion, but Ood gives us health."

The reign of Charles I. produced an immense
accession to the population of New England; but,
unfortunately, the new-comers brought with them
those religious differences, and that spirit of theo-
logical contention, which were so prevalent at
that time in the mother country. On this account
UassAchusetta, which was re-peopled by a fresh
arrival of Puritans, chiefly of the Independent
and Baptist persussioDS, was ready to renew the
controverey in that distant wildemesa, not only
with those who still adhered to Episcopal princi-
ples, but even with thoee who belonged to an
earlier and more moderate Furltauiam than their

Vol. II.

own. The persecntion that had driven them into
exile, insl^d of teaching them moderation and
forbearance, had only made their adherence to
their own belief the more intense; while aa yet
the principles of toleration wei-e little understood;
and, untaught by their own example, they thought
that those argumeuts of fines, imprisonment, and
whipping, which had been so ineffectual witli
themselves, might yet bo available with others.
But the truth had strengthened them for endur-
ance ; and they could not imagine how error —
that is to say, religious opinions that were con-
trary to their own — could be so obstinate as to
hold ont, or should escape the just penalty of
their unreasonable hardihood. It was easy for
men tliua circumstanced to erect Star Chambers
of their own, and play the part of Laud over
men whom they regarded ss the enemies of Ood.
The first bnmt of the storm of American perse-
cution fell upon the Episcopalians, as the moat
avowed and dangerous enemies of Puritanism at
large; but when this weaker party whs ejected
from their community, the victors divided, and
turned against each other in mutual contest.
Uniformity was to be established in these infant
colonies as in England; but uniformity in what!
This, among so many contending sectaries, could
only be maintained by the strongest; and the
question, Who was the strongest 1 had yet to be
decided. The severe theocratic rule, also, nnder
which the laws and examples of the Old Testa-
ment were applied in the legislation of these
infant states, gave scope and sanction for perse-
cution ; and among its more distinguished victims
was Roger Williams, whose case will best illus-
trate the spirit in which it was conducted. He
arrived at Uie new transatlantic town of Hull in
1631; and though an English Furitou minister,
and little more than tliirty years of age, his views
of toleration were ao sound and ample as to place
him beyond most of the great religious intellects
of the period even in bis own country. This
superiority, however, was not likely to recom-
mend him to the land of his adoption, where the
obeervance of public worship was a duty which
eveiy member of the community owed to the
state, and where neither difference of opinion,
nor scruple of conscience, nor even notorious
laxity or indifference, could form an excuse for
the want of regular attendance at the parish
church. He opposed the union of the religious
with the civil power, aa it then prevailed; and
taught that the magistrate should punish guilt,
but not suppress freedom of opinion. Such sen-
timents were too alanning to be tolerated; and,
although he was chosen by the people of Salem
for their pastor, Williams, by a decree of the
general court, was banished from the colony. It
was in the depth of a most inclement wiut«nr that

»Google

762

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Beuoiox.

this seatence was inflicted; and the poor exile,
driTen into the wildemeaa of an uniDh&bited
country, waa fuin to skulk for mnn j weeks among
the leatleBB forests, with nothing but a hollow
tree for his home. Here he would have pemhed,
had not the roving ludiana, mora merciful than
hia ChristiAQ brethren, found him, and adminis-
tered to his wants. At length he removed to
Rhode laland, whither he was followed by five
eompaoions ; and there he founded a new settle-
ment, whith he called Providence, having ob-
tained land for the purpose hj purcltase from the
natives. Being soon joined by other exiles, he
repiured, in 1613, to England, where he obtained
achatterfor his new colony, and in 1G62 a second
was granted by Charles II., in which the settle-
ment was entitled, " the English colony of Rhode
Island, and Providence Plantations, in New Eng-
land;" and in this, the unlimited toleration sought
by its founder waa conceded in all its latitude.
By this novel grant, the community of Providence
were distinguished from every other throughout
the whole Christian world ; and in this way an
example was established, which the other Ameri-
can states were afterwards gladly to adopt, Wil-
liams himself survived to the patriarchal age of
eighty-five, having died in 3683, when his colony,
originally consisting of only forty souls, had in-
creased to several thousands.'

This rapid increase of the infant colony of
Rhode Island wna hut a specimen of the manner
in which the other Anglo-American states were
rising into bulk and imjwrtance. They presented
attractions alike for the persecuted, the discon-
tented, and the adventurous of the mother coun-
try; and with every year of this stirring and
changeful period, the tide of emigration became
stronger and more abundant. As might be ex-
pected, therefore, the immediate descendants of
the Pilgrim Fathers began to change in their ori-
ginal character as it continued to hiend with the
new elements that successively arrived. But still
the Puritan type continued to predominate; and
Puritan legislation became all the more severe in
proportion to the increasing violation of its rules,
and danger of its final eversion. In some of
these laws,directed against immorality in general,
we have a curious specimen of what was accounted
criminal in the moral code of these early colonists.
Thus, to wear unshorn hair was a proscribed
ofTence; and to smoke tobacco was not only de-
nounced as sinful, but punished with a fine. The
chief stato crimes were refusal to communicate
with the prevalent church, which involved the
forfeiture of all civil franchises; heresy, which
was visited with banishment; and worshipping
images, for which the TKuslty was death. But

it was against the Quaken, who first appeared in
Massachusetts, in l(ifi6, that the war of persecn-
tion was moat violent. At their arrival, or a,
shoil time after, they were brought before the
magistrates; their books were seized and burned,
and themselves sentenced to banishment Find-
ing that these penalties were insufGcient, neir
and more merciless statutes were enacted against
Quakerism, which Laud himself could scarcely
have improved. Thus a Quaker, if a man, after
the first conviction, was to lose one of his cam,
and if a woman, was to be severely whipped ; on
a second offence, the man was to lose his other ear,
and the woman to be whipped in larger measure;
and if they still persisted in Quakeriam, the
tongue of each offender, on the third conviction,
was to be bored through with a red-hot iron.
Finally, it was decreed that any Quaker return-
ing to the country, after being banished, w« to
be punished with death—a sentence which waa
several times carried into efTect. In the other
states, the proceedings against this unfortunate
people, although of a milder character, were still
sufRciently severe, so that any one who should
bring, or cause to be brought, any one known
to be n Quaker into Connecticut, was to be fined
in £50.

If anything can form an excnse for this in-
tolerance and persecuting spirit, it is to be found
not only in the limited views on toleration which
were entertained by the original founders of the
United States of America, but the new and per-
plexing emergencies which were imported by
every fresh immigration. The earliest settlers
were at one in their belief, and went on harmo-
niously in their common aim; but after they bad
cleared the wilderness around them, and driven
back the red men into the wilderness, they were
little prepared for the new bands that arrived^*
Socinians, Antinomians, Familiats, Anabaptists,
Arminians, Anti-Sabbatarians, Ranters, Seekers,
Muggletonians, and many others— who entered
into their labours, and were ready each one of
them to be persecutors in their turn. Even the
Quakers of this period, as we have already Men,
were notthoMpeacefu],decarons characters which
they afterwards became; but, on the contrary,
were as frantic in their zeal as they were wild and
extravagant in their mysticism. In America, as
at home, the principles of toleration were late in
being understood, and later still in being reduced
to practice. It was not in a day, or a year, that
the confirmed prejudices of so many centuries
could be unlearned, or their practices abandoned.

During the whole of the present period, the
religious history of Ireland was so uneventful
that it may be dismissed in a single sentence.
Its Popery had been so utterly prostrated by the
sword of Cromwell, that for yenn it attempted

»Google

A.D. 1G60— 1689.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

763

no re-fictioD, while its Protestant Episcopac]' was
abolished by the Long ParliameDt along with the
Episcopal Bupremacj in Sngland and Scotland.
With the Restoration its Episcopacy was restored ;
and both houses of the Irish parliament gave
their passive assent to every change that was

afterwards introduced into the mother Church of
England. The effect of the reigns of Charles II.
and his brother upon Irish Fopery, which was
elevated with new hopes, and called into fresh
action, have been f ullj detailed in our department
of dvil and military history.

CHAPTER VIII.— HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

FROU THE REOTORATION OP CHARLES II. U.D. 1860), TO THE BEVOLUTIOS (A.D. 16SB).

Com manual prognn of Eoglsad during thii period — EfTact of ri
■hipjiing — lucreus of tha nstioual rantal — luiprDTemanU ii
forty jBin — Gniirth of iwtioiul oeslth mccompsnisd witli
tbs growiiig poverty — &Uvs-tr*da &t Briitol— Judge Je&eyi
■ in— aUge-cOKhes of ths perio^— Thsir fu«a and

itigions pemcutions in sdTSDoing it — IncreaM of
1 tha fuilitiei of commarca — Thair effeot* daring
■n inereue of tlia poor — Bamadis uJopMd for
I ita opponeat—ImprovemaQts in trmTal uid looo-
I of tnveUing — liondon cosciies and c«n-iiBa~
IntrodaetioQ of selan chain — Dacraue of water travelUng — Improvement in London ftreet-pivicg — City
lighting— Great Are of London — Tti appearance by land and on the river— Its eilioction — Encampmenti of
the oitizeni— Speedy mtoration of tbe capital — Coatama of the period — Unmccaaafnl aftaispt of (.'barlea II.
to introdnce a new national coatnme — Female coatane— Senniality of conrt life and maonen — Condnct of
the king and ooart when the Datch fleet anterad tha Thamea— ETeljn'a aecouDt of the oourtien of Cbarlea II.
— Habit* and taatei of Charles — Pravaleuce of vice and diBiipatlon— Stirring tpirtt of the age — Ita oisuifeita-
ticna in sotiie axarciaea and wild eiceaaea — Street frolica of penom of raok — Garnet of the period— Bowls
— Foot-raoee — Skating— Honamanahip — In-door aporta — Comcaeneement of circulating librariee — Watering-
placei—Bath at thi> period —Featiralt—Obiervaacei of Uay Day, St. Valentiae'a Day, and Kew-jaar'a
Day >- Their pnotiea diKountsnanced by the Fnritana — Mnaioal taite of the period — Active gamo — Foot-ball
— Remaiiu of SToharj iport — Street ikirmiihea — Strictnen of the Puritsna againit the vica and cmelUei of
public iportt— Their lappranioa of bear-baiting, &c. — Street ihowt ot the period— Poppet ihowa sud eihi-
_ bitioDS within buildings— Re-opening of the theatreaat Che Beatoration — The itsge uid aoton — ImpiOTeoiauta
in dramatic repreaentation — Abaiei of the drama — Clnb-houm of Loudon — Introduction of tea— Frogma
of anhitectnre- Sir Chriatopber Wren — Hii aaccaaaful attempt of rebuilding London- Hii obetaclei—
Scnlptare— Tha aculptora, Cibbor and Gibbons — Painting and paintara— Verrio, tc.— Sir I'eter Lcly—
Leiy'a imitaton and taeceuan — Untie— Church choin at tha Beatoratton— Henry Purcell — Science and
literature of the period— PoUtioa] pampUata— Clarendon's and Buniet'a hiitoriei— Fhilotopfaical writinga of
Hobbes and Cndworth — Sir William Temple — Poetry— Ita corruption by the Ticas of the period- Hilton as
a political writer sad controTendaliit — His poetry and Paradise ZoJl — Uia life and chusetar — Life and
writinge of Abraham Cowley- Of Samuel Butler— Uia Budibrat—Jahn Drydeo— Effect of penury and the
Ticei of tbe age oa bis poetry — Tbe minor poela, Darenant. Waller, Buckingham, Rochester, Doraet, Boa-
common, and Denham — Dramatic poets of the period — Sensual and immoral charaetar of thelt writings —
Antagoniitie and purifying literature of the period — Eminent theological writan — Jeremy Taylor — Richard
Baiter— John Hove— Edward Stillin;Seet — John Tillotaoa — John Bunysn.

ijOMPtETE evidence had now been
afforded that the history of Britain
I mainly to be that of a great
njmmercial country. Tlie three
igdoms of England, Scotland,
1 Ireland were united into one,
and that, too, by a bond that seemed indissolu-
ble. After a severe struggle, they had gained
possession of the sea, and were thus enabled to
waft their commerce whithersoever they pleased.
This superiority also, which they had obtained
over the ocean, the islands of Great Britain and
Irelaud were well fitted to retain, by their posi-
tion in Europe, by their admirable havens and
bays, and by the westerly winds that could carry
their navies with facility against any point of
foreign attack, and at the same time protect

them agtunst the arrival of an invader. Added
to the empire's natural advantages, were those
of its political free institutions ; so that while
religious persecution was rife upon the Conti-
nent, the industrial clsssea, upon whom it bore
the heaviest, were fain to escape to England,
where they conld enjoy their religious opinions
unmolested ; and thither abo they conveyed those
manufacturing arts with which they had so long
enriched the countrieB that had now ungratefully
given them up to the persecutor. In this way,
the fanaticism of the Dnke of Alva drove the
art of cloth-weaving into Ekigland ; while at ft
later period the persecution of his Huguenot
subjects, by Louis XIV., naturalized among us
the gainful process of silk-weaving. Strangely,
too, it happened, that even when persecution was

»Google

764

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Stats,

practised among ourselves, the result, instead of
being fatAl to our commercisil proaperity, as it
had been to Spiun, Holland, France, and every
other country into wliich it hod been introduced,
waa so overruled in the case of Sritaia, as only
to deepen the stability and elteud the range of
her comnterce. The Puritans of England and
the Coveoauters of Scotland, when their own
country was converted into a house of bondage,
repaired orwera banished to America; and there
they founded those colonies that formed not only
so rich a source of immediate profit, but wei-e
afterwards to be expanded into a great collected
empire, whose limits were to be determined only
by its all but inexhaustible resources. These
singular advantages which the commerce of Great
Britain had now acquired, our merchants were
already carrying into active operation; and Hol-
land saw herself outdone by her pupil, not only
in persevering industry, hut also in bold successful
adventure. All this, De Witt, the celebrated
Dutch statesman, clearly saw and announced to
his countiymen: but the warning which it tended
to convey came too late. It was England, not
Holland, that was thenceforth to be the great
store-house of the world, and the mart from
which ite merchandise was to be diffused through
every country.

In tracing, as on former occasions, the steps
by which, during the present period, the progress
of British Industry was advanced, and the mer-
cantile tendency engrafted upon the people as a
national characteristic, we turn in the first case
to the state of our shipping. And here, a mate-
rial increase is to be found in the royal navy,
which had been steadily progressing since the
days of Elizabeth and her successor. At the
death of the former sovereign, it mustered only
thirteen ships, the largest of which was only of
1000 tons burden; but at that of James, it had in-
creased to twenty-four ships, the largest of which
was of 1400 tons. From that period, the increase
had been so great, mainly owing to the rule of
Oliver Cromwell, who never lost sight of the
true iutereste of the nation, and partly to the
naval victories of Blake, that the royal navy at
the Restoration amounted to 07,463 tons, and
at the cloee of the reign of Charles II. to 103,a5»,
During the next unsettled reign, indeed, this
tonnage had diminished to 101,893, at which
amount it stood at the Revolution in 1689 ; the
progress, however, of royal ship-building had set
in so steadily, that this proved to be nothing more
than a temporary interruption. As to the mer-
imntile shipping, of which it would be impossible
to form an exact estimate, we can only state in
round terms from the authorities of the period,
ihat from 1666 to 1638 it had nearly doubled.
Of thi^ commercial navy, we find, that from

thirty-five to forty ships, each can-ying from
sixty to 100 men, were employed by the Eart
India Company ; 80,000 tons of shipping in tha
coal trade of Newcastle, and 40,000 in the tiade
to Guinea and America, A fair criterion of the
value of this commerce by its re-action upon
landed property may be adopted from ihe fact,
that whereas in 1600 the general r«ntal of Eng-
land, for land, houses, mines, &c., did not exceed
^6,000,000 annually, in 1688 it had risen to abont
.£14,000,000.

As might have been expected, the fadlitia
for the extension and circulation of commerce,
both at home and abroad, kept pace with this
increase, and were nothing more than the naturtl
results that, even if hindered, would have forced
themselves into full operation. One of these m
the redaction of the rate of interest from ten to
six per cenft, which had been enacted by llie
Rump Parliament in 1851, and was continatd
after the Bestoration. Another was the extinc-
tion of those vexations charters, by which com-
panies had been wont to monopolize the com-
merce of different countries ; but which had now so
completely yielded to the enterprise of individail
traders, that none of them remained except \ht
East India Company. The mercanlile iutereaw
of this period must also have received a fnib
impulse from a board of trade, established by
Cromwell in 1688, for the promotion of traffic
and navigation, and afterwards enlai^ bj
Charles II. into a council of commerce, in con-
sequence of the great increase of our coloniN
and foreign plantations. We can perceive »1»
that the improvements in the reguWious tf the
post-office must have had an incalculable influ-
ence upon the operations of traffic, when we r«-
collect that a single letter wna now conveyed to
a distance of eighty miles for twopence. The
effecta of all these commercial improvements
upon the welfare of society may be eatimatw
from the following summary, given by Sir Joai»h
Child, of their results during the short coune or
twenty years:— "First," he says, "we have gene-
rally now one-third more money with appren-
tices than we did twenty years before. Secoadl.v.
notwithstanding the decay of some, and the lo«
of other trades, yet, in the gross, we diipoff'""'
one-third more of our manufactures, and of "i"' ^"
and lead, than we did twenty years ago, TbinllVi
new-built houses in London yield twice the rent
which they did before the conflagration in 16661
and hoDses immediately before that fire gene-
rally yielded one-fourth more rent tiian they did
twenty years ago. Fourthly, the speedy »

costly rebuilding, after that great fire.

1 London,

convincing, and to a stranger w •*"**!
ing argument of the plenty and late iocnaM
money in England. Rftbly, we have no* nw*

,v Google

A.D. leeo— 1689.1

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

765

thui doubla tba number of merchants and ihip-
ping that we had twenty years ago. Sixthly,
the course of our trade, from the incream of our
money, ia strangely altered within theae twenty
yean; most payments from merchanta and shop-
keepers being now made with ready money,
whereaB formerly the course of our general trade
tsn at three, six, nine, and eighteen months'
time." From other contemporaneous sources we
learn the following important facts, of changes
that had occarred in the space of forty years: —
The royal rerenue had trebled. The cnsUims
had yielded an iucrease of more than thrice the
former amount. The postage of letters hnd in-
creased twenty-fold. The number of houses in
London was more than doubled; while a. great
increase had also taken place in the principal
towns in England and Ireland. From the use of
coal for domestic purposee and in the burning of
bricks, the export of that commodity from New-
castle was quadrupled. And to come nearer to do-
mestic life and comfort, the importation of wines,
the multiplication of carriages, and the splendour
of equipages and household furniture had been
very greatly increased. To return again to Sir
Josiah Child, whom we formerly quoted, he states,
in a work pubiiflbed in 16H8, the following im-
portant particulars, with which we cloae this de-
partment of the subject. He tells us, that more
men were now to be found upon the Exchange
of Loudon worth £10,000, than had been worth
£1000 when the abatement in the nte of interest
to six per cent, was made by the Rump Parlia-
ment in 1651. He informs na, moreover, that
sixty years previous, a dowry of j£500 with a
daughter whs of higher account than £2000 at
present; that gentlewomen formerly thought
themselves well clothed in a serge gown which
their chamber-maida would now be ashamed to
wear; and that besides the immense increase in
rich clothes, jewels, plate, and furniture, there
were now 100 coaches for one that had been
kept before.

While wealth, however, was thus increasing on
the one hand, the numt«r of the poor appears to
have been multiplying on the other. This was
nothing more thiui the usual result of such a pro-
gress in every state of society. The standard of
comfort is thereby so greatly raised, that those
who cannot attain to it, are only made the more
conaciona of their inferiority and deprivation. In
the mercantile scramble it also must happen, that
many will be daunt«d at the outset by its difficnl-
tiee, and many thrown out by adverse chances in
the competition. In this way, while the merclian-
dise and manufactures of the country were so
greatly increasing its wealth, and multiplying its
comforts, the number of those who could not share
in it was increaoing also. This was such a nota-

ble reality, and so Btartling to tlie simple com-
prehensions of our ancestors, that the press of
this period teemed with plana by which the evil
was proposed to be remedied. But the perma-
nent cure still waited to I>e discovered; and until
this could be accomplished, society was f^n to
content itself with such temporary expedients as
held the evil at arm's-length, and handed it over
to the succeeding generation. In 1677 it was
calculated that there' were 100,000 paupers in
England; and for their subsistence a poor-rate
had already been eatabliabed, which waa now in-
creased to nearly £840,000 per annum. Even
now, however, the obvioua evlla of such a remedy
were felt, and are thus summed up by a writer of
the day; ■" It (the poor-rate) is employed only
to maintain idle persons ; doth great hurt rather
than good ; makes a world of poor more than other-
wise there would be; prevents industry and labo-
riouaness; men and women growing ao idl« and
proud that they will not work, but lie upon the
parish wherein they dwell for maintenance; apply-
ing themselves to nothing but begging or pilfer-
ing, and breeding up their children accordingly;
never putting them upon anythingthat may ren-
der them useful in their generations, or beneficial
either to themselves or the kingdom.' Haraher
measures were therefore resorted to; and in 1662
a law was enacted by which the poor were once
more reduced to that bondage of the soil from
which they had been emancipated for centuries.
This waa accomplished by the act empowering
any two justices of the peace, upon the complaint
of the church-wardens and overseers of the poor,
to lay hold of any new comer, within forty days
after his arrival in the parish, and forcibly re-
mand him to the pariah in which he was last
legally settled, unless he could show that he
was no vagabond or pauper, or prove that he
renteda tenement of £10 per annum. This mer-
ciless law, by which the poor were cooped up
and imprisoned within their own several districts,
for the purpose of entailing upon each district
the burden of its own pauperism, and nothing
further, continued in force for 130 yeara, and waa
not repealed until the close of the last century.

This ungular indifference t« the liberty of the
subject, and restoration of feudal l»nd^e in one
of its worst forms, waa also co-exist«nt with
another enormity closely connected with the
mercantilespirit of the period, and which perhi^
wholly arose from it. The scene of the iniquity
to which we refer was Bristol, where, we are
told, all peraons, even common shopkeepers, more
or less traded to the American plantations— but
a traffic ao lucrative waa perhaps not exclusively
confined to this particular port It appear* that
the aldermen and justices of Bristol had been
accustomed to tnneport their feloD", who were

»Google

766

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[SocLAL Statx.

witling to Mcept such an alternative, to America, '
and aell them as aUvea to the planters. But as
felona were not numerous enough for the gi-ow-
iag ararice of the magfistnites, the;- aooa included
whole shoals of pelty-larcenj rogues and pilFeren
among the same live cargoes, whom their fright-
ened into aoquieacence by the terrors of perpetual
imprisonment or a halter. In this way, a brisk
trade commeuoed, that was continued for many
yean ; and as the civic magistrates found their
account in it, the aldermen t«ok the bench by
turns, while each had his division of the spoil.
At length this enormity was attacked, and that,
too, by no better a personage than Judge Jeffreys
himself; and, perhaps, none but that ermined ini-
quity and prince of legal oppressors would have
had courage for such a feat. " It appears not,"
saya the narrative, " bow this outrageous practice
came to the knowledge of the lord chief -justice ;
bnt,>when he had hold of the end, he made
thorough-stitch work with them, for he delighted
in sneh fair opportunities to rant. He came to
tjie city, and told some that he had brought a
broom to sweep them. The city of Bristol was a
proud body; and their head, the mayor, in the
assizecommlasionisputbefore the judge of assize,
though, perhaps, it was not so in this extraordi-
nary commission of oyer and terminer. But for
certain, when his lordship came upon the bench,
and examined this matter, he found all the alder-
men and justices concerned in thia kidnapping
trade more or less, and the mayor himself as bad
aa any. He therefore turns to the mayor, ac-
ooutred with his scarlet and furs, and gave him
all the ill names that scolding eloquence could
supply; and so, with rating and staring, as his
way was, never left till he made him quit the
bench, and go down to the criminal's post at the
bar; and there he pleaded for himself, as a com-
mon rogae or thief must have done; and when
the mayor hesitated a little, or slackened his
pace, he bawled at him, and, stamping, called for
his guards— for he was general by commission.
Thus the citizens saw their scarlet chief magis-
trate at the bar, to their infinite terror and amaze-
ment. He then took security of them to answer
informations, and so left them to ponder their
cases amongst themselves. At London, Sir Bo-
bert Cann (the mayor} applied, by friends, to ap-
pease him, and to get from under the prosecution ;
and at last he granted it, saying, ' Oo thy way;
un no more, lest a worse thing come nnto thee.'
The prosecutions depended till the Revolution,
which made an amnesty; and the fright only,
which was no small one, was all the punishment
these judicial kidnappers underwent; and the
gains acquired by so wicked a trade rested peace-
fully in their pockets."
One striking efltot produced upon eveiy-day

life by the mercantile impulse which England
had now received, was manifested in that love
of travel and locomotion which had become a pre-
valent characteristic. The growing expansion
of the public mind disdained its former limits, as
well as mere local enjoyments; and while it sought
a wider and more varied range, the rapid open-
ing of highways and multiplication of the means
of conveyance gave wings to this new ambition.
The middle and even the lower classes could now
indulge their love of journeying, not merely on
pack-horses, which generally travelled in teams,
or in long waggons that conveyed the goods and
visitors of one town to another, but also in stage-
coaches, which after the middle of tlie seven-
teenth century began to be run upon the princi-
pal roads, and at moderate charges. The descrip-
tion of one of these earlier stage-coacliea is thus
given by Taylor, the water-poet;^" It wears
two boots, and no spnrs, sometimes having two
pair of legs in one boot; and oftentimes, against
nature, most preposterously it makes fair ladies
wear the boot. Moreover, it makes people imi-
tate sea-crabs, in being drawn side-waya, as they
are when they sit in the boot of the coach." In
thia awkward posture, the outside passenger tra-
velled, or rather crawled, at the rate perchance
of three miles an hour, stoppages included; bnt
however uncomfortable such progress might be,
compared with the smooth velocity of modern
conveyance, it was a wondrous improvement
upon the weary pedestrionism of an earlier gene-
ration. Even these facilities for travelling, how-
ever, were enough to arouse the alarmists of the
day, and England, it was thought, was driving to
destruction at full gallop. As stage-coaches, it
was alleged, enabled any Londoner, whenever he
bad occasion, to repair to any place where his
business lay, for two, three, or four shillings, if
within twenty miles of London, and so propor-
tionately to any part of England, "no man there-
fore," writes an author on the subject, " will keep
a horse for himself, and another for liis man, all
the year, to ride one or two journeys, unless
some noble soul that sooms and abhors being
confined to so ignoble, base, and sordid a way of
travelling as these coaches oblige him unto, and
who prefers a public good before his own ease
and advantage.* From thia strange diatribe (writ-
ten in 1673), we learn the following important
particulars in the travelling statistics of the
period. Stage-coach conveyance was confined to
the three great lines of road leading to Exeter,
York, and Chester. The fare from London to any
one of these towns was 40t. in summer, and AS*, in
winter, besides Ii. to each coachman (four in num-
ber, being changed during the journey) for drink.-
money. Each of these stage-coaches was provided
I with forty hones, and usually earned eighteen

,v Google

A.D. 1600-1689-1

HISTORY OF sociEnr.

767

powengera a-week from Laodon U> theabore-men-
tioned towiiB, aud brought back aa maaj to the
metropali:!. Then, there were short stages within
twenty or thirty miles of Loodon, each coach
having four horses, uid carrying six passeogers
a-day. Sliort«retngeastill were those of ten milea,
to which the coach went nod returned oo the
same day, with an average freightof twelve pas-
sengers; and besides these, there wei-e the short'
eat of all, being within tiii-ee, four, or five miles'
distance from London. Thus, there were stage-
coaches thnt plied to almost every town within
twenty and twenty-five miles of the capital, which
not only the I^ndoners, but people of Middlesex,
Essex, Keut, and Surrey kept in constant occu-
pation; and these passengers were gentlemen
travelling on pleasure, or to visit their friends or
coimtry-houses, and traders and merchants to the
fairs and markets. These men, it is added almost
with a groan, formerly kept a hone or two of
their own, but had now discontinued such a noble
and laudable practice.

Few itioideiita of the period are more uatound'
ing than the rapid iucrease of coaches that had
taken place in Eugland, notwithstanding the de-
nunciations of moralists, and eveu the prohibitory
enactments of parliament At least 6000, we are
informed, were to be found in London, the suburbs,
and within four miles' compaaa, in 1636. Of these,
we find that 1900 was the number of hackney-
coaches belonging to the city of London, chieQy
drawn then, as afterwards, by "base leau jades,
unworthy to be seen in ho brave a city, or to
stand about a king's court." As London was such
a confused mass of narrow crooked streets before
the great fire, every expedient had to be adopted
to insure a safe pilotage fo^ these vehicles; and
therefore the huckney-coachmau, especially after
the Restoration, was obliged to mount one of his
hones as a {lostilion, armed with a short whip
and spurs; while the coach itself was of such
smalt constniction, and so uneasilr hung, that it
looked like a sedau chair on wheels. Narrow,
rugged, and miry streets, however, were not the
only evils which the London coaches encountered;
for such was the hatred of the populace at these
"hell-carts," as they still continued to call them,
aud the rivalry of dra/men, who delighted to
drive against them and overturn them, that a
coachwreck was as commoa in the metropolis
OS a shipwreck in the German Ocean or the Bay
of Biscay. Still, in spite of the jeers of the mob,
the barricades of cars, and the oaths and nirsea
that pursued the precarious ronte of the flying
vehicle, these hackneys continued to multiply,
especially after the rebuilding of London, so that
people of the middle and even the lower classes
were glad to use them for the pnrposea of busi-
ness or pleasnre. We need only wld, that while ,

from the commencement the commim coaches
were drawn by two horses, the nobility had tlie
especial privil^e of using four. The Duke of
Buckingham, placiug himself at the head of his
order, setup a coach with six horses; upon which
the Earl of NorthnmberUnd, to rsl)uke or cari-
cature his pride, caused himself to be driven
through the streets in one that was drawn by
eight stout nags. Four aud even six-horse car-
riages did not long continue to be an exclusive
privilc^ of nobility.

The principle of rapid conveyance having thus
increased with the multiplication of business in
every department of life, as well as the general
augmentation of means for its gratification, eveiy
impravement,whetherineBfety,comfort,orspeed,
was certain to be welcomed. Above all, safety
and comfort were as yet of chief account. " It
ie a moat uneasy kind of passage in coaches,"
says the water-poet, "on the paved streets of
London, wherein men and women are so toased,
tumbled, jumbled, rambled, and crossing of ken-
nels, dunghills, and uneven ways." Besides, it
was utterly inconsistent with aristocratic dignity
that the carman should drive up against a feoach
Sited with "six nobles sitting together," and com-
pel the coachman "to stop and give place to aa
many barrels of beer." A remedy was soon hit
upon that bore the same relation to the old litter
that the coach had done to the whirlioot, This
was the sedan, which had been iu use in Spain
somewhat in the form of the Eitatem palanquin,
and three curious specimens of which Prince
Charles, afterwards Charles I., brought to Eng-
land on his return from the court of Philip IT.
Of these sedans, he presented two to the Duke
of Buckingham, and the proud favourite was not
long iu using them; "but," says Wilson in his
Memoir*, "when Buckingham came to tie carried
in a chair upon men's shoulders, the clamour and
noise of it waa so extravagant that the people
would rail on him iu the streets, loathing that
men should be brought to aa servile a condition
as horses." It was indeed a new spectacle in
England, where horse-litters had only been used,
and that, too, for the couveyaiice of the sick and
infirm. But in spite of the loathsome spectacle
of bondage which it preaented to a pe<^le now
fully awake to the bleeeings of liberty, and de-
termined to win it at whatever coat, the fashion
so rapidly increased, that even before the first
year of its introduction had expired, the poet
Massinger thus alludes to it in his phiy of the
"Bondman;"—

" O prldt of mnm I CoMbw sn Mn ooonnaa :
Tha; nrffit In Um )iAp)ilDiH of pBoa ;
And lAdlH think tb^ keep not »tate enougti
If. tot thdr pcmp uxl sue. tfaer ■>* ■*<* twn*

»Google

7C8

niSTOBY OF ENGLAND.

[SociAi. St&tb.

From the precvions footing of the London streets,
ua well as the wi^th of the mob, which by this
time was a "voice potential" in the state, the
sedan, instead of being carried upon the dan-
gerous elevation of men's shoulders, was soon
borne In the more convenient faablon of a hand-
barrow, while the chairmen, chiefly Irishmen —
even at this time regarded as "hereditary bond-
men' in England — were supposed to be in their
proper vocation while they officiated as the pack-
horsesof Englishmen. Front these and othersuch
causes, this mode of conveyance soon became less
obnoiious to the public eye; while the charge of
effeminaicy which it had raised was so thoroughly
relinquished, that Cromwell himself could deposit
his iron frame in a sedan, and be carried through
the atreeta of Loudon without censure.

But what of the Thames during this progress
of revolution? Hitherto it had formed the great
medium of metropolitan conveyance. Its banks
on either side were studded thick, as far as Lon-
don extended, witli the quays of the nobles and
wharfs of the commons, while its waters were
peopled with every kuid of vessel, from the

bncentaur-like barge of royalty to the nutshell
skull or wherry. Of thia immense fleet, set
apart for London conveyance only, Stow gives
us a distinct conception, when he informs us that
it employed 40,000 watermen, who could furnish
20,000 sailors for the fleet But now these royal
water processions dwindled into the paltry annual
psf^eant of the lord-mayor's show. The nobility,
in imitation of royalty, lud down their gilded
barges ; the fashionables who dwelt near the
Thames, at St. Kathariue'^ Baukude, Lambeth
Manh, Westminster, Whitefriars', Coleharbour,

and other such convenient localities for a water
/A«, preferred an inland pio^ic among the gar-
dens or forests, to which their carriages could
waft them in an hour or two; while the busy
Inns of Court, whose thousands of students and
practitioners had hitherto used the facilities of
the river alike for business or for pleasure, were
now to be found flying along the streets with
their books, briefs, and green bags, six in a coach.
The Thames, no louger the great highway of Lon-
don, waa little better than a water conveyance, iu
the absence of bridges, between the city and the
borough; and the small clusters of ferrymen that
now lingered on at the different crossing-plaoeB,
looking out hungrily for a chance fare, were but
the ghosts of a departed glory, as they uplifted
their voices in supplication with, "Boat, your
honour! — boat, boat!"

While the oses of the river were tbas so
greatly relinquished, the streets of London be-
hoved to be proportionably improved: the mul-
tiplication of coaches not only demanded but
also compelled a correspondent reformation iu
the streets. During the present period, there-
fore, we 6nd a renewed ardour
at work in the widening and
paving of streela, and convert-
ing crooked lanes and alleys
into Btr^ght ones. For this,
too, the fire afforded the best
facilities, as the sordid temp-
tation of tinkering old path-
ways and buildings to the last
was removed ; and, indeed,
there was full need for so
terrible a visitation, when we
recollect what an overgrown
congeries of foul uneven
streets, dirt, and pestilential
smells London had became.
All this we learn from the
orders that were given by act
of parliament, only four years
before the great fire, for the
amendment of the highways
Fiott, CuiiiMtii ^f London and Westminster.

From this source it appears
that, in consequence of the rapid increase of build-
ing, the stopping and filling up of ditches and
sewers, and neglect of repairs, the highways be-
tween these two great portions of the metropolis,
aa well as the suburbs, were, and for some years
past had been, "so miry and foul, as is not only
I very noisome, dangerous, and inconvenient to
! the inhabitants thereabouts, but to all the king's
' liege people riding and travelling to and from the
' said cities.' In addition to this, we learn that it
I had been for some time the practice of the iuha-
I bitanta to throw out "great quantities of se*-ooal

»Google

9.]

HISTOHY OP SOCIETY.

^hes, iluat, dirt, and otlier filth,* into the streets,
lanea, and alleys — a sure welcome to the plague,
ii3 well as aggravation of its violence, Tliese
evils were ordered to be immediately repaired,
bjrnew paving the great streets between Ijondoti
aud Westminster, which were specified by oame.
Every inhabitant, also, was to sweep the street
before bis own house twice a-week, under a pen-
alty of 3s. id, for every case of omission. And
Hs a euro for total darkness, and those deeds of
darkness with which the streetsof London aboun-
ded At midnight, when the " Bons of Belial" eal-
lied ont, "flown with insolence and wine," every
liouseholder whnse dwelling fronted the street
was ordere<l to hang out candles, or lights in
tantems, or otherwise, in Home part of his house
neit the street, every night between Michaelmas
.ind Lady Day, from sunset until nine o'clock in
the evening, niider penalty of It. Here was
at best a glimmer — more perpleiing, it may be,
thau darkness itself— lasting only until the sober
part of the community had gone to bed, and kept
up only during the winter. Thus was London
lighted, not only at this time but for a long period
afterwards; and those who went abroad after the
hour of nine, had either to grope their way in
the dark through the tilth and pitfalls of the
streets, or carry a flambeau, link, or lantern.
Thus a regeneration of London, without a pre-
vious destruction, appears to have been impoaai-
ble, more eapecially when we take into account
the decayed timber an<l lath and plaster of wliich
it was principally composed. Nothing, however,
hut the commercial wealth of London, aided by
the lately aronsed ent«rpriae of the people, could
have rebuilt, in so short a time, a metropolis far
surpassing the old both in ezt«nt and grandeur.
Even only eight years after the fire, it so much
exceeded its former limits that the old state alarm
was excited on the occasion, and the former pro-
hibitions upon metropolitan extension were re-
newed. These, however, were now so little
heeded, that court and parliament were obliged
to submit, more especially as the extension chiefly
went westward with the courtiers and aristo-
cracy; and in 163S now acts of parliament were
vouchsafed, erecting two new parishes, which
were those of St. Anne's and St Juraee's, in
Westminster.

An event so important ns the great fire of Lon-
don, that baa no parallel in history except the
burning of Borne in the reign of Nero, is too
momentous to be dismissed with a passing notice.
It was also a conflagration, in the strong glare of
which the national character, both in its good
and evil qualities, was manifested with mo«t im-
pressive distinctness. Its commencement waa at
ten o'clock on Sunday evtoiog, the Sd of Septem-
lier, 1666; and ita origin waa ktunble enough,

ya.. U.

being a baker's house or shop in Pudding Lane,
near Fish Street Hill, kept by one Farryner,
Pepys was awoke by a servant at three o'clock,
with the information that there was a fire in the
city, which waa sufficient to huny him to the
window; but, thinking that the spectacle waa too
trivial,and too far off to tempt him fram his home,
be returned to bed, but was told, soon after sex'en
o'clock, that the fire had already burned down
300 houses, and was now 1)uming down all Fiah
Street by London Bridge. Thia was enough for
the indefatigable sight-seer, who repaired to the
Tower, and mounted one of ita highest places,
from which he saw "the houses, at that end of
the bridge, all on fire, and an infinite great fire on
this and the other side the end of the bridge ;"
and, on descending, he was told by the lieutenant
of the Tower tliat St. Magnni^ Church, and the
greater part of Fish Street, were already de-
stroyed. He went down to the water-side, took
boat, and passed through the bridge, where the
whole spectacle was opened to liia view. The
previous drought of the weather, and the abun-
dance of old lath and timber, of which the houses
were munly built, mode the fire go onward like
a torrent: "everybody endeavouring to remove
their goods, and flinging into the river, or bring-

I itig them into lighters that lay off; pioor people
staying in their houses as long na till the very
fire touched them, aii<l then running into boats,

' or clambering from one pair of stairs, by the
water-side, to another." After waiting an hour,
marking the rapid progj-eas of the fire, and seeing
that none attempted to extinguish it, all being
employed in saving their lives or property, Pepys
went up the river for Whitehall to carry the
tidings to the court. On the king being adver-
tised of the danger, he sent Pepys into the city
with his commands to the lord-mayor to spare
no houses— to pull down before the fire in every
direction ; and, on entering the city for the pur-
pose, ths active messenger found that the fire
had entered before him, destroying churches,
public buildings, and houses by wholesale, while
the streets were crowded with people removing
their goods in carts or upon their backs. Thread-
ing his way with difiiculty amidst the throng,
Pepys reached Cannon Street, where he found
Bludworth, the lord-mayor, stupified and ex-
hausted ; who, on receiving the royal meesage,
"cried like a fainting woman," and exclaimed,
"Lord! what can I do? I am spent; people will
not obey me. I have been pulling down bouses;
hut the 6re overtakes us faster than we can do
it" The inept civic functionary also added that
he must go and refresh himself, for he had been
up all night By this time it was mid-day. The
houaes in Thames Street being chiefly warehouaee
filled with pitch and tar, oil, wine, and spirits,

»Google

70

aiSTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statk.

were cntchiug lire in rapiil succession ; goods that
lind beeb removed to what were thought plac«s
of safety, were again beiug shifted to houses fur-
ther off, only to require, in a short time, & further
removat; und the churches themselves were filled
witli property, but only to serve as fuel for the
advaucing bonfire.

In the aft«moon, Pepys returned to the city,
and found the advunce of the tii'e still steady and
resiatieas. Cannon Street was emptied into Lom-
lianl Street, and this rich ruartof goldsmiths ws«
now to be visited in its turn. At St. Paul's Wharf
he again took boat, and aailed both above and
below the bridge, where he saw that the confla-
gration was so wide that thei'e was no prospect
of aiTestiog it. In the streets were nothing but

Old LdHDOK Bbidoc, tu» or CautLED :

a chaos of people, horses and carta, crowding,
driving, and ready to run over each other; while
the river was full of lighters and boats taking in
goods, a great part of which was also swiinmiug in
the water, in the hurry of such a wild removal.
In his Diiunta touches of description, he is also
cai-eful to mark that " hardly one lighter or boat
in three that had the goods of a house in, but
there was a pair of virgiuals in it." Upon the
water, he also saw the king and the Duke of
York issuing ordera to pull down houses; but
the progress of the fire was too rapid, and its
rule too dominant, to be checked by these kingly
beheeta. After a short interval, when the wind
had strengthened, hia cruise upon the water
became more limited from the driving of the
rnnoke, and the showers of fire-drops and fire-
flakes, which made a further sojourn npon the
Thames both dangerona and intolerable. Thus
driven from the water, Pepys and hia comptwiona
landed at Bankside, and as the aveniiig closed in

they took a parting view, for the night, of the
devoted city. " We saw the fire grow,' he says,
"and, as it grew darker, appeared more and more ;
and in comeia and upon steeples, and between
churches and houses, as far as we could see up
the hill of the city, in a most horrid, malicious,
bloody flame, not like the fine flame of an mrli-
nary fire. We stayed till, it bemg darkish, we
saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire from
this to the other aide the bridge, and in a bonr
up the hill for an arch of above a mile long. It
made me weep to see it The churches, honaea,
and all on fire and flaming at once; and a horrid
noise the flames made, and the cracking of houses
at their niiu."

While Pe)>y8 was thus noting the appearance
and progress of the
conflagration ch ie fly
^S-'—-..-. .. from the river, an-

other distinguished
-:'■-'- " diarist, the accom-

plished Evelyn, was
observing it by
land, and baa given
a full account of the
particulars. It was
not until after din-
ner that he went to
the bank-side, in
Southwark, to wit-
ness the dismal
spectacle ; and he
Baw,from that point
of view, that the
whole city near the
water -side was in
[I.— AfivHDUnr flames, and that all

the bouses from the
I bridge, all Thames Street, and upwards towarda
Cheapside, down to the Three Cranes, were con-
sumed. At night he returned to the same place,
and found the whole south part of the city burning
I fi-DmCbeap>!idetotheThame8,and all along Con)<
I hill. Tower Street, Fenohurcfa Street, Gracechnrch
I Street, and so along to Baynard's Castle. And
I terrible was the close of this first day, which he
has described with a breadth that Pepys could
never have attempted. "The conflagration was bo
universal, and the people so astonished, that, from
the beginning, I know not by what despondency
or fate, they hardly stirred to quench it, so that
there waa nothing heard or seen but crying out
and lamentation, running about like distracted
creatures without at all attempting to save even
their goods ; such a strange consternation ther«
was npon them, so as it burned both in breadth
and length, the churches, public halls, exchange,
hospitals, monuments, and (wnamenta; leaping,
after a prodigious manner, from booae to hones

»Google

">-]

HISTOliY OF SOCIETY.

771

oud street to street, at great diatanoea one from the
other ; for the heat, with a long set of fair and
wium weather, had eveu ignited the air, and pre-
pared the matemla to conceive the fire, which
devoured after an inersdible manner houM«, fur-
niture, and everything. . . . Oh, the miserable
and calamitous spectacle I auch as, haply, the
world had not seen since the fonndstion of it,
nor to be outdone till the universal conflagration
thereof. All the sky was of a fiery aspect, like
the top of a burning oven; and the light seen
above forty miles round about for many nights.
God grant mine eyes may never behold the like,
who now saw above 10,000 houses all in one
flame. The noise, and cracking, and thunder of
the impetuous flames, the shrieking of womeu
and children, the hurry of people, the fall of
towers, houses, and churches, was like an hideous
storm, and the air all about ao hot and inflamed,
that, at the best, one was not able to approach it;
so that they were forced to stand stiil and let
the flames burn on, which they did for nea)* two
miles in length and one in breadth. The clouds,
also, of smoke wen dismal, and reached, upon
computation, near fifty miles iii length. Thus I
left it this afternoon burning, a resemblance of
Sodom, or the last day. It forcibly called to my
mind tliat passage, noii enim hie habemui ttabilaa
oipitaierii [here we have no abiding city] ; the
ruins resembling the picture of Troy. Loudon
was, but is uo more."

It will be perceived that the greater part of
the mischief was edTected during the first twenty-
four hours. But on the following day, the fire
had got as far as the Inner Temple, while all
Fleet Street, the Old Bailey, Ludgato Hill, War-
wick I^ne, Newgate, Paul's Chain, and Watling
Street were in a flame, and for the most part
reduced to ashes. St. Paul's Church could not
escape amidst the ruin; and it the more easily
caught fire from tlie scaffolding with which it was
surrounded, ns it was about to undergo a thorough
repair. The etoaea of this church, Evelyn tells
na, "Bew like grenadoes, the melting lead run-
ning down the straeta in a stream, and the very
pavements glowing with fiery rednees, so as no
horse nor man was able to tread on them, and
the demolition had stopped all the paaeages, so
that no help could be applied." And still no
meAna appear to have been used to check the
wide-wasting and coutinualty spreading destruc-
tion. At the first, men had hurried, as we have
seen, to preserve their lives and goods, each only
thinking of his own safety; hut when they were
driven from one shelter to another, they either fled
from the dty leaving all behind them, or gazed
in stupid apathy, and did nothing. It was no
wonder, if we consider the nature of the calamity,
so great, so terrible, and unjwecedented, in which

all past experience was useless, and all natural
courage quelled and paralyzed: "all men stowi
amazed as spectators,' says Clarendon, " only no
man knowing what remedy to apply, nor the
magistrates what orders to give." The first piii-
dent suggestion had been to pull down the houses
nearest the fire, by which its progress might have
been stopped at once; but the selfishness of the
ownere opposed this proceeding until it was too
late. At last, and when it was scarcely worth
while, the remedy was used which should have
been adopted at first : it was to blow up the
houses with gunpowder wherever the flames were
advancing, and thus to save what portion of the
metropolis yet remained. This process did not
commence until the afternoon of the second day,
and with the buildings nearest the Tower ; but
^thou^ the noise of the exploding buildings, as
Fepys informs us, frightenetl the people more
than anything, its good eS'ects were soon ex-
perienced, BO that the practice became general ;
and such large gaps were made in every direc-
tion, as to confine the fire, while the abatement
of the wind prevented it from spreading. The
conflagration, after continuing to blaze, and finally
to smoulder for several days, was exhausted, so
that on the eighth day from the commencement
Evelyn was able to noto in his diary, " I went
again to the ruins, for it was now no longer u

Miserable iu the meantime was the condition
of those whom a few hours had unhoused, and
driven out in myriads. They bad taken refuge
in St. George's Fields, Moorfields, and as far as
Highgate, and iu a circle of several miles, " some
under miseruble huts and hovels, many without
a rag or any uecesaary utensils, bed or board,
who from delicatoness, riches, and easy accommo-
dations in stately and well-furnished houses, were
now reduced to extremest misery and poverty."
Of these, there were S00,000 persona of all ranks
and degrees, standing beside what little property
they had been able to save ; but though they
were ready to perish with hunger, not one oon-
desoended to beg for relief—" which to me," says
Evelyn, " appeared a stranger sight than any 1
had seen." While they occupied this miserable
encampment, a rumour was suddenly raiseil
among them that the French and Dutch, with
whom we were at war, had not only landed, but
were even eutei-ing the city. The thought of the
horrors of war thus about to be added to tliose
of pestilence and fire maddened the sufferers;
they snatched what weapons were at hand, and
could scarcely be prevented from a rush upon the
burning city, and an attack upon the strangers
who belonged to these countries, until soldieia
and guards were sent to lead them back into the
fields, and mount gnard over them to prevent a

»Google

772

HISTOHY OF ENGLAND.

[Social atin

further oatbreak. To fued iuch & multitude,
also, the biiig aud couucil had iaaued a procU-
matiou requiring all tlie country ruund to bring
dajlj- aud ooustantly proviaiona to the various
luiu-kela eslAblished for tlieir relief ; to open all
churches, chapela, schooU, and other planet
tiie stowage of the gooda they liad saved ; and
Ui make every toirn patent to the free reception
of aucti as exercised manual occupatioua.

The extent of this couflagration comprised a
Bfiace of 43S acres. Its boundaries, as stated iu
the Loiiim O.izetle, were the Temple Churcli,
Dear Holboi-u Bridge, Pye Comer, AlJersgate,
Cripplugate, near the lower end of Coluiau Street,
at the eud of Baaingliall Street, by the postani
at the upper eud of Bisliopsgate Street aud Lcad-
euhall Street, at the standard in Comhill, at the
i^hurcli in Feachurch Street, near Clothworkers'
Hull ia Miociiig Imjit, at the middle of Mark
Lane, aud at tlie Tower Dock. Within this verge
were destroyed 400 streets, 13,200 dwelling-
houses, eighty-nine churches, tour of the city
gates, the Guildhall, with many public buildings,
uhapels, hospitals, schools, libi'ariea, and noble
mausioDS. The worth of the property thus lost
QUI scarcely be estimated at leas than £10,000,000.
But strange as well aa gratifying to tell, amidst
all this coufusion and havoc, not more than six
persons appear to have lost their lives, and these,
too, from venturing incautiously among the ruins.
The sick and the infirm were carried off iu bedit
or upon men's shoulders, aud conveyed to places
of safety, whatever might befall the goods aud
furniture. The bills of mortality alao exhibit
no increase, although so mauy thousands were
lodged in frail sheds, hovels, aud gip^y tents,
from Bmithfield to Highgate, and obliged to
dwell in these unlil regular housea could be built
to receive them. When the first effect of this
overwhelming blow had passed away, the na-
tional spirit recovered its wonted healthy energy,
and the erection of a new metropolis seems to
have been contemplated as calmly as if it had
been only the fabrication of a new garment when
the old had been worn out. Only eleven days
after the commencement of the tire, and while
the ruins were still smouldering, Evelyn w^ta
upon the king with the plan of a new capital,
and tells ua in the same breath, that the queen
was going to take the air in her Cavalier riding-
habit, horseman's coat, hat, and feather. That
which would have stunned any other nation,
only sei-ved to give England a fresh impulse,
and even already a better London than the for-
mer could be antidpated. "To the amazement
of all Enrope,* aaya Burnet, " Loudon waa, in
four years' time, re'built with so much beauty
and magnificence, that we, who saw it in both
.States, before aud after the fire, cannot reflect on

it without wondering where the wealth could \k
found to bear so vast a loss a* was made bj the
fire, and so prodigious an expense m nu LiJ
out in rebuilding the city."

Allusiou baa already been made to the promp-
titude with which the difficulty of repairing thr
calamity waa encountered. The metropolif of i
great nation, which ia commonly the groWhot
ages, was to be erected at ouce; the mjmrli
who were uusheltered, were to be furuinlied viU
homes, where not merely safety, but amion
could be enjoyed. Palaces and churches, maTj
and warehouses, behoved to start from the vide
waste and ruin with more than the rapiditf'of a
Bummer's harvest, and the mercantile enteT;in>c
and political action of the nation to go oansii
without atop or check. But there was more Ibiu
one brave spirit iu the country that could ami i
and surmount the trial. We have seen hit \
speedily Evelyn came forwai-d witii his plan of
a new London ; but prompt aa he was, he tuJ
been anticipated by Sir Christopher Wr«o,iiii«
appointed aurveyor-generel, and principal uthi-
tect for rebuilding the whole city. Recetiiii;
the royal order to that effect, he surveyed willi
great toil and peril the plain of duat and ub»
which the conflagration had left, and mapped ml
the streets which were to be laid upon it Ht
thuB " designed a pUn or model of a new citr, i»
which the deformity and inconveniences of theolJ
town were remedied, by the enlarging the atreeU
and laues, and carrying them aa near parallel ti>
one another aa might be; avoiding, if compitiblf
with greater conveniences, all acute anf^a; \f
seating all the parochial churches conapimom
aud insular; by forming the moat pnbli« t>lu^
into large piazKOS, the centra of (wz or) eigl>
ways; by uniting the halU of the twelve chi^
companiea into one regular squars aoueied <«
Guildhall; by making a quay on the whole bul
of the river, from Blackfriars' to the Tower."
From the same autliority we learn, that lie
atreeta "wetv to be of three magnitadei; tlx
three principal leading atnught through tbertif,
and one or two cross streets to be at least niiiHj
feet wide; othera sixty feet; and lanes aliW
thirty feet, exdnding all narrow, dark aUej>
without thoroughfares and conrta."

Such were the principal outlines of the pi"
by which the new city was to be "the v^
magnificent, as well aa commodious for he>]tl>
and trade, of any upon earth." And tcoli "
doubUeaa would have been if the eite had bteni
vii^n euil — an uuclaimed territory. But rii?
inch of that lava surface was aot only of nix.
but also private property; and every man oiitr
diapoaaeaaed was clamouring for his own t^-
ment of ground, upon which be might a«aiii *^'

»Google

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

773

ap his shop, warehouse, or dwelling, lut tiie gene- 1
r&l plan of the new city be wLat it might. Aa |
such u cl&im could not be refused, a court of ju- '
dicBture bad l>een appointed to itacertaiu e&ch
owner's locality; nud so well had tLb difGcuk
task been diachai^ed, as to give universal satis- !
fautiuLi. And now that each man could identify
his own, Sir (Jliridtoplier found tliat every man's '
hand was more or less againat liiui, " The prac- i
ticability of this scheme,' says the' author of the j
Pareitta/i'j, in apeakitJg of the plan of hia father, j
the architect, " without loss to any man, or in- |
fringemeut of any property, was at that time
demonstrated, and all material objections fully
weighed and answered. The ouly, and, as it I

happened, iDsurmouD table difficulty remaioiDg,
was the obstiuate averseuess of great part of the
citizens to alter tlieir old properties, and to re-
cede from building their houses again on the old
ground and foundations; as also the distrust iu
many, and unwiiliugiiess to give up their pro-
jverties, though for a time ouly, iuto the hands of
public trustees or comniissiouers, till they might
be dispensed to them again, with more iidvautage
to themselves than otherwise was poeaible to bo
effected." And what mortal skill could have
surmounted such difficulties t Where every shop-
keeper and householder was standing doggedly
and immoveably upon his ground, the straight,
comely lines of Sir Christophir's new chart were

1. Br Hoi—

*. Ju».'.Bqt>.».

a R0T»l B.ch.iis(«.

M. WhiUA^l

b ODldil>«Sqill».

t. GulldbiM.

a. Btdronl Hour!

c King Squuil.

d. uISiMr Fi.l<b

S, Th.. ttaTOT,

S!, ChmrinfCnmt.

H Northunberlud UOKM.

«. Theriwl

r LiucoLui Inn"?!

T. HontagvB Hooxi.

g. Co.Hil G.iMmv

e. vi<*ii»iitii»'om»

e. CH-tluXKiu..

0. Chrtet'i HopibJ.

to St. Jun_'> P>U»

obliged to wind into many a devious deflection, I especially in the public buildings, was secured
like rivulets thmngh a rocky soil. Nothing but for the new capital than bad been found in the
the Thames itself was allowed to find its onward, old. These advantages will at once be percep-
proper, because resistless course. Aa it was, i tible by referring to the iUustrations we have
iiowever, more convenieuce, more health and given of ancient public edifices, and ettpecially
safety, and a far greater amount of magnificence, ' to the accompRoyiog plan of London restored.

»Google

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social State.

aa compju-ed with that of the old, given in
a previous chapter.' The streets are wider,
straighter, and more airy, and the centre of the
city better vautilated; while the Rtteni]>ts at
drainage, sltliough iraperfeetly
carried out, were of a more
aaoitary character than the
choke<l soil of London in the
" golden days of Queen Bess."
We nee<l scarcely also advert
to the immense advantages de-
rived from the predominance
of brick and stone over timber,
lath, and plaster. But where
are the chief features of Sir
Christopher's plan by which
these advantages would have
been tenfold niultipUed! We
luisa the great lines of com-

muoicatton which were to ei-

tend aci'oss the capital from
one extremity to the other.
We mis« the streets of the ori-
^ual plan, where even the narrowest were to be
wide enough for henlth and comfortable tranwt.
Where are those chief public structures which, in-
stead of being wedged among common buildiuga,
were t« stand apart and insulated, as monuments
of tbe national power and grandeur f And the
quay that was t^ extend along the bank of tlie
river — where is iti Still, they are only to be
found in the origiual paper. And yet, let ua
not despair. Our own day baa not only made a
lai^ atonement for past neglect, but given auth
ample promise of future improvement, that tbe
time seems not far distant when a nobler London
will be realized than aught which Wren could
have con tern ]jlate<l.

As a gay and frivolous reign was introduced
with the Restoration, the costume of the people,
aud especially of tbe courtiers, was now a subject
of much importance. But English dress was still
subject to the same continual mutability which it
had undergone in form°r [leriods, so that during
the reign of Charles II. alone, tbe fashion under-
went three several changes among his male cour-
tiers. Of these, therefore, we can only give a tew
incidental notices. At the commencement of bis
reigu gentlemen wore a high-crowned and plumed
bat,aBhort-waisteddoublet, and petticoat breeches
that were ftounced and of enormous amplitude,
garnished with ribands, and tied above the knees.
The waistband was in like manner adorned witli
ribands; and hanging out over it was the shirt,
which, of course, was made of the finest materials,
as it was one of the most conspicuous parts of the
attire. Below the knee was a long fringe of lace
ruffles; ami all terminated in a jiair of high-heeled

shoes tied with ribouda. Tbe cloak that was
thrownover all this braveiy was worn looaelynpon
the shoulders, but so as not to obscure the fallinf;
collar of rich kce that surrounded the neck and

shoulders, lu this fashion we c
memento of the period of Charles I., still dear ti
the old aud loyal courtiers. A later fashion than
this, which continued till the following reign, was
au entire revolution. In it, the bigh-crowned bat
was turned into a low-crow[ied beaver, cocked up
behind, and surrounded sometimes by a ahruli-
ber; of short feathei-s, or ornamented with a
cockade. A long square coat, the sleeves of whii'li
only reached the elbows, and from uuder them
the ample ahirt'sleevea continuing to the wrists,
aud plentifully ornamented at the extremity with
lace and ribauds, and studded iu front from top
to bottom with buttons, had takeu the place of
the short-waisted doulilet; while uuder this gar-
ment, the wtustcoat, buttoned in like fashion, was
so long that it almost wholly covered the breeches.
The rich collar, also, was supplanted by a new
ariicle of dress for tbe neck, that was now to
become permanent iu England: this was a cravat,
at first made of Brussels or Flanders lace, auil
tied under the cbin with ribands, while its square
ends hung down upon the breast. Tbe long hair
by which the Cavaliers wer« distinguished from
their opponents during the Civil war, seems now
to have become the rage of fashion, as welt as the
badge of loyalty; and at last, when "the force of
nature could no further gOi'the head was enriched
with a peruke, which the wearer could make aa
long aud as loyal as he pleased. This innova-
tion was importe<l from France into England iu
1664, and so obstinately did it retain its bold

' 1, After WoMiiig S. From ■ priol h} R. WbiU. S, Aftm-
EaM«T. *. b, Fmo IlBHh'. Chrontols, ISM. B, Fnm tbi
■Willie- wrmicbt tnm* at > loaklng-glu. beloncliii >o NoU

»Google

A.D. 1060—1689.1

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

that more than a century bad to elapse before it i downfall being effected by Freuuii ridicule, when
was fully supplanted. Oneofthevery fewardnons Louis XIV. and bis nobles put their servants
attempts of Charles II. amidst these mutations, into this costume, as it it were only fitted for a
„., ghowy menial livery.

In turning from the male
to the female attire of this
period, we find that, in t»o
many instances, it was but a
type of the general profligacy
which had become so faahion-
iible among the upper classes.
But it could scarcely have
been otherwise, as the rela-
tionship of cause and effect
>; subsisted between them; and,

accordingly, the dresses of
high -bom dames and court
ladies exhibited a nudeness
which, in the days of Crom-
well, would not have dared to
approach within a mile of
CosTi;-Ka, TiMoFCHittLnii «D JaubU" Whil«hall. We need not

more fully enter into this sub-
per- I ject, or even attempt to describe the extravagance
r, he ' of rich velvet, aatin, and lace, with which it ^

was to devise a drese that should become s
nuuient national costume; and with this i

adopted for his model the loose coat or caftan
worn by the Russian ambassador when he first
caroe to England after bis majest/s accession.
Accordingly the dress, fully completed, was an-
nowHced by Charles iu council, and his resolution
to wear it for life — a proceeding that reminds us
of the Roman emperor who BBsembled the senate
to deliberate on the beat mode of cooking an
enormous turbot entire, in-
stead of cutting it into por-
tions! Tills attire consisted
of a loose aureost of Asiatic
form ; a vest under it, mads
of black cloth or relvet,
pinked with white satin,
that reached to the knees;
a sash or girdle; and in lieu
of shoes and stockings, a
pair of buskins. The cout^
tiers assumed this strange
dress at the royal bidding,
though they seem to hare
regarded it as nothing bet-
ter than a merry masque-
rade ; nny, although the

kinp' had declared in coun- f

cil that he never wonhl alter

it, they betted with him that at some time he
would forego his purpose. They gained their
wager; for the fashion lasted only two yean, its

accompanied : all these are sufficiently known in
the series of court beauties, painted by Sir Peter
Leiy, as well as the bold, sensual looks of the
wearers, which modem strictness can no longer
tolerate. Of jewellery, also, there was no lack,
bnt rather an over-abundauce, as the female ex-
travagance of the age did not find the old family
caskets sufficient for its maintenance. Among

■ bnHduOii <1««1). 4. From KictuJ'i Viei
fi, FranibRaiUdeO^S!). S. Fincn ttn
CtobsT, la Wlu^Mitu CUliadnl (ItSTJ,

the many notices given to this eflfect by Evelyn,
we find that Lady Castlemaine, at a play, exhi-
bited a blaze of jewellery to the value of £40,000,
and that Mrs. Blagg, at a court pastoral, shone

) 1. Fnaeu. DochtH of Rktnwud. Iijr Lslj'. 1, Null Owys,
b; Laljf. S, Lnoli*. Dasliai of Portoioatb, bj Hnniii 4,
amMU, OoanMM <jf BmitMMr, I9 Lalf.

,v Google

HISTORY OF EXGI.AND.

[SoCTAL Statb.

in &n iuferlor lialo of timketry worlb ^30,000.
Faaaiug over such geaeralities, we shall ouly no-
tice a few of those innovations in female fashion
Iijr which this period was particularly distin-
guished. And first, we maj mention perulces,
which were adopted by the ladiea befoi-e they
were assumed by the other sex. This, however,
was but the renewal of a fashion tliat for some
time bad prevailed in the court of Elizabeth,
when false locks, and even eutire wigs, were
sometimes worn by the "divine Gloriaua" and
her bright train -benrers. On the other hand,
patches, which had first been worn bygentlemeu
who assumed tlie character of martialista, were
now adopted by the hidies. With this creation
of artificial moles to set off the uatural fairness
of the complexion, rouging wna introduced to
beigliten it ; and to shade the face from the sun,
or perhaps for the purpoaes of love intrigue,
vizards or masks, which had formerly been lined
by the ladies of England, were once more re-
sumed. Amongst this exchange of fashions from
ladies to gentlemen, and vice eertA, it would have
been atrnnge if there had not been some com-
mon costume in which both could harmonize ;
and this was accordingly effected by the riding
dreas, in which the ladies became so Amazonian
that their sex, at first sight, was often doubtful.
Hat and periwig, coat and doublet, Cavalier
Illume and horseman's overall, were in this case
so faithfully adopted, that nothing of the woman
remained but a long petticoat that scarcely peeped
out between the folds of her male attire. This
fashion, as well as the practice of rouging and
patching, became ao permanent that they con-
tinued till a late period.

Such waa the external gnise of the cotirtjera,
male and female, who paraded the public streets,
fluttered in the parks, and thronged the stately
Hpartmentfl of Whitehall. But in proceeding to
their character and general modes of life, we find
such a combination of light frivolity and heart-
leaa Bensuality as never before or since has dis-
graced the page of English history. Of this kind
of every-day life, however, the diaries of Pepysand
Evelyn are so full, and are now so well known,
that little more than a few light notices are neces-
nary. As for Charles II. himself, we find in him
the fitting nucleus around which such charactera
coald gather, as well as the predominant princi-
ple by which their movements were regulated;
and, therefore, a few sketohes of his proceedings
will suffice to bring the whole court of England
before ua. Take the following extract of a pro-
ceeding which, apparently ao worthless in itself,
and of frequent occnrrence, might yet be enough
to regulate a great state intrigae of the period:
— "I met (writes Pepys) the queen-mother walk-
ing in the Pall Moll, led by my Lord Sb AJban's;

and finding many coaches at the gate, I foood,
upon inquiry, that the duchess is brought to bed
of a boy; and hearing that the king and queen
are rode abroad with the ladies of honour to the
park (St. James's), and seeing a great crowd of gal-
lanta staying here to see their return, I also atayed
walking up and down. By-and-by the king and
queen, who looked iu thia dress (a white-laced
waistcoat, and a ci-imson short petticoat, dressed
a<an(|^/^«nc%)mightypretty;and thekingrode
hand-iu-hand with her. Here was also my I^dy
Cnstlemaine rode amoug the rest of the ladiea ;
but the king took no notice of her, nor when she
light did anybody press (as she seemed to expect,
and stayed for it) to take her down, but was taken
down by her own gentlemen. She looked mighty
out of humour, and had a yellow plume iu her
hat (which all took notice of), and yet is very
handsome but <rery melancholy i nor did anybody
speak to her, or she bo much as smile or speak to
anybody." It was these pontings of some titled
prostitute which the statesmen of France and
Hotlaud were obliged to watch, as the indica-
tions of peace or war between the three natioua.
Little Pepys thus goes on with his narrative, and
gives us a peep into the palace itself: — "I fol-
lowed them up into Whitehall, and into the
queen's presence, where all the ladies walked,
talking and fiddling with their hate and feathers,
and chanj^g and trying one another's heads,
and laughing. But it was the finest sight to see,
considering their great beauties and dress, thai
ever I did see in all my life. Bnt above all. Mm.
Stuart in this dress, with her hat cocked and a
red plume, with her sweet eye, little Roman noa«,
and excellent taiUe, is now the greatest beauty I
ever saw, I think, in my life, and if ever woman
do, exceed my Lady Caattemaine, at least in tbia
dress; nor do I wonder if the king changes, which
I really believe is the raason of his coldnen to
my Lady Castlemaine." The Dutch fleet aj'rives
in the Thames, a national disgrace such as Eng-
land had not enduml since the days of Canute,
and her glorious ocean supremacy is about to pass
away for ever. Bnt how, in the meantime, is the
" merry monarch " employed amidst an event
which Cromwell would rather have died than
witnessed! Even thus, as Coke, who accompA-
nied him, informs us:— On meeting with Prince
Rupert, at the further end of the Mall, " tJie king
told tlie prince how he had shot a duck,aiid such
a dog fetehed it; and so they walked on till the
king came to St. James's House; and there the
king said to the prince, 'Let's go and see Cam-
bridge and Kendal' (the Duke of York's two
sons), who then lay a-dying. But upon his i«-
turn to Whitehall he found all in an uproar, the
Countess Castlemaine, as it was said, bewail-
ing above all othen that she ■hoald be the Snt

,v Google

9-3

HISTORY OF SOCIETY,

777

torn in pieces." To r«-assure the pretty favoiirit«
■WHS, iu the king's eyes, & more importAut work
tbiui to dispel the fears of the oatioD ; and this
he did so elfectiiaUy, that in the eveniug, at sup-
per at the Duchess of Monmouth's, he diverted
the cauntess and all the assembled company with
hunting a vwt/i, into which they nil entered witli
full ardour! It was high time that msd Tom
Killigrewshouid have entered bootedaudspurred,
ns he did on another occaaiou, when the king
asked him on what journey he was bound ) " I
am going to hell," replied Killigi-ew, "to fetch
lip Old Noll, that he may set matters to rights
ngain, for siuce he left us everything has gone

Of a sterner character than even these are the
uotices of the grare and moral Evelyn, by which
we obtain as dose an insight as can well be sus-
tained into the character and court of Charles II.
Uereisoneof the king's wonted strolls: "I thence
walked with him (says the diarist) through St.
James's Park to the gnrdeu, where I both saw
and heard a very familiar discourse between Hra.
Nellie, ns they called an impudent comedian,
she looking out of her garden on a terrace at the
top of the wall, and . . . (here the modest writer
leaves a Aiatui), standing on the green walk
under it. I was heartily sorry at thin scene.
Thence the king walked to the Duchess of Cleve-
land, another lady of pleasure and curse of our
na^on." Matters were not more decorous even
in the palace, according to another notice of
Evelyn: "Following his majesty this morning
through the gallery, I went, with the few who
attended him, into the Duchess of Portsmouth's
dressing-room, within her bed-chamber, where
she was in her morning loose garment; her maids
combing her, newly out of her bed, his majesty
and the gallants standing about hei-. But that
which engaged my curiosity, was the rich and
splendid furniture of this woman's apartment,
now twice or thrice pulled down and rebuilt to
satisfy her prodigal and sipeunve pleasures,
whilst ber majesty's does not exceed some gen-
tlemen's ladies in furniture and accommodation.
Here I saw the new fabric of French tapestry,
for design, tendemeiu of work, and incomparalile
imitation of the beat paintings beyond anything
I had ever beheld. Some jiieces had Versailles,
SL Germain's, and other {uiiaces of the French
king, with huntings, figures, and landaca)ies,
eiotic fowls, and all to the life rarely dune.
Then for Japan cabinets, screens, pendule clocks,
great vases of wrought plate, table- stands, chim-
ney furniture, sconces, branches, brasenaa, &c.,
all of mHHsy silver, and out of number, besides
some of her majesty's t>pst paintings.' £ut now
for the closing scene of ail, which was in keeping
with the rest, and which Evelyn penned on the

Vol. II.

' night after hia majesty's death: "I can never
, forget the inexpressible luxury, and profaneness,
' gaming, and all dia-toluteuess, and, as it wei-e,
I total forgetfulness of God (it being Sunday even-
I ing), which this day se'unight 1 was witness of:
the king sitting and toying with his concubines,
Portsmouth, Cleveland, and Mazarine, &c.; ft
. French boy singing love-songs in that glorious
gallery, whilst about twenty of the great cour-
tiers and other dissolute periions were at basset
' round a large lable, a bank of at least ^£000 iti
, gold before them; upon which two gentlemen who
I were with me maile reflections with aatonish-
; ment Six days after was all in the dust'

Much has been written of the refined habitn,
' elegance, and wit of Chai'les II. by modem wri-
\ tera, who have either admitted the indiscriminate
I flattery of the Cavaliers ot the day without ex-
amination, or have identified him with those bril-
liant characters of the court with whom he lived
I in daily intercourse ; but a. closer inspection into
his ordinary life reduces these eulogies into a
' very common-place compass. That his literary
I tastes were cold, coarse, and ai'tificial, was shown
I in hie preference of the stilted rhymes of the
' French drama to the vigour and nature of the
English school, which his father could so well
appreciate. Of his courteous manners we can
think but poorly when we leom that even at the
' council, where the highest and best of England
I were assembled, he could not even show an ordi-
nary degree of attention, and was wont to play with
I his pet dog when he should have been listening to
I the discussion. That neither hia domestic tastes
I were refined.noreven bis perceptions of ordinary
I delicacy, was manifested in the treatment of hia
favourite little spaniels, to which he allowed not
only the full liberty of the palace, but even of hia
' own bedroom, where they littered at pleasare,
I and made the whole court Slthy and disgusting.
' And as for his wit, which has been reckoned hia
best qualification, and even his choicest sayingii,
not a few of which have been made for him by
writers of a later age, the jokes of hia pedant
grandfather, far-fetched though they generally
were, are immeasurably superior to all that
Charles ever uttered. He must have been far,
indeed, to seek for choice language, when ho
called Lady Cuatlemaine a jW«, and endeavoured
to tench hia queen English, by inducing her, on a
delicate matter that required far other words, to
pronounce the vulgar sentence, "Confess and be
hanged." The only commendable quality whicli
we can detect in him, amidst such a mass of
mennness, selfishness, and sensuality, is his hardy
henlthy activity. With all his luxurious indul-
gences, Charles was neither a dainty Sybarite nor
drowsy sluggard, but a man of stirring habita,
which be continued to the end of hia life. Let

,v Google

778

HISTORY OP ENGLAND.

[Social Stats.

the eveuing be Bpeat as ic might, he was &n earlf
riser, and this, we are told, was sorely ctflnplniaed
of by his Attenduuta, who could not sleep off their
debauches so easily. Hia usual work for the dsiy
was a day's walking, and that of auch an active,
onward kind, that it was a serious toil to Iceep
pace with him. These walks were not limited
to the parks, but extended to the streets, and even
the rural auhurba; while oue f^rent source of bis
acceptance with the people was the frankneas
with which he thus intrusted himself to their
keeping, and the readiness with which he dives-
ted himself of the repulsive fomis of royalty. In
thia way he was personally beloved, even when his
counsellors were bated.and his political measures
condemned. It was in one of these strolls that
he held a brief but well-known conference with
his unpopular brother and aucceaaor. Accom-
panied by the Duke of Leeiia and Lord Cromarty,
after taking two or three tiima in St. James's
Park, he proceeded up Constitution Hill, at that
time entii-ely in the coimtry, and there met the
Duke of York returning from his wonted exer-
cise of hunting. The duke, on alighting to pay
bis respects, talked of the danger of auch long
excnraiona with ao small an attendance, to which
his majesty good'humouredly replied, "No dan-
ger at all, James^no danger at all ; for I am
sure DO man in England would kill me to make
you king."

We have been thus particular in the character
of Charles II., as he was the glasa of fashion by
which the courtiera dresaed themselves; and in
contamptattng hia faults, we find each and all of
them not only copied, but often caricatured by a
largo portion of the English ariatocraoy. We
have already seen, in the history of this period,
how ready each statesman was to follow the royal
example of becoming a pensioner of France, and
how completely Louis XIV. was thus enabled to
buy up the English cabinet, and direct the moat
important of its proceedings. Strsnge revela-
tions have been made upon this head, from which
it appeara that in many caaea the highest pa-
triotism of the day was a marketable commodity.
As gambling was in vogue in Whitehall, a baaset-
table was also a regular article of furniture in
fashionable houses; and the rage of cards and
dice became ao violent that ancient estates pnsaed
away from noble families at a night's sitting, and
whole foreata were levelled with a single throw.
As the royal concubines were the chief diapenaers
of court favour and advancement, their society
was courted by noblea, by churchmen, by men of
letters, and even by the wives and dnuKhters of
the high-titled and ambitioua; and while female
iniquity was thus honoured and eialteil, female
modeaty was ridiculed, and virtue held in cheap
Hence the fashionable conversation of

the period, so startling not only in the plays
which profess to give a faithful picture of the
times, but in thoae diaries wher« the realitiee of
every day were faithfully chronicled. To inde-
cency of language waa aJao added profanity, that
ridiculed everything aacred, and aought to give
force to its utterances by uew-coiued oaths and
freah forma of blaaphemy.- " He ia accouuted no
gentleman, nor person of any honour," aaid poor
Pepys, who was shocked at the change, tfaongh
he could tolerate much, "that bad not, in two
houra' sitting, invented some new-modish oath,
or found out the late intrigue between the Lord
B. and the Lady P., laughed at the foppertea of
prieata, and made lampoons and drolleries on the
Sacred Scripturea tbemselvea." PVom the same
source arose thoae atrange matrimonial alliasiwa
that now so frequently disfigured the escutcheons
of the English nobility, by which not only the
illegitimate daughters of court mistresses, but
even low-born actreases — the Netl Qwyua of
their res[>ective circlea — were metamorphoBeJ

In all this rioting, drinking, dicing, and love-
making, by which the higher ranks of the period
were chatacterized, we muat keep in mind that
these were the attributes, not of a people in the
lost stages of national decay, but of early vigonr:
it waa the heyday and fluah of youth emanci-
pated from paternal control, and impatient to
sow its wild oats, rather than the last efforts of
debauched aenility. There waa, therefore, any-
thing than effeminacy in thia Comua crew who,
for the time, had become lords ai the ascendant.
Thus the witty and worthless Rochester, who
Bometimes was not aober one day for months to-
gether, performed exploits in awimming which
Leander could scarcely have rivalled. Similar
to theae were feats of running, in one of which
two young noblemen, for a wager, ran down on
foot, and killed a stout buck in St. Jamee'e
Park, Charlea II. being the chief apectator. But
neither Uiese desperate exercises, nor the rough
gymnaatics of a military edncatioD, uor the ad-
ditional competitions of boat-racing and borse-
raciug, which were now in fuller prmcdce than
ever, could give vent to the wild energy that re-
velled in the consciousness of iU atrength: it was
already half-drunk with enjoyment, and only tlie
more eager to become wholly so. Hence the
duels with which the history of ttiis period
abounds, and which the slightest cause conld
provoke. Hence, also, the naaasain-Iike waylay-
iiigs, in which Coventry had his noae slit, and
Dryd^n was cudgelled well nigh to death. Then
there were the bands for midnight fun and frolic,
wbo, in the nomenclature of theday, were called
Scowerers,the representatives of the Mohocks of
the next period. These Scown«n, ooDUCting of

»Google

HISTORY OF SOCIETY-

779

bodied young squires from the country perfc
ing tlieir uoviciate for court aud civic life, scow-
ered through the dark or diintj-lighted streets
at nigllt, defacing sigu-boards, wi-enching off the
knockers of doors, slomiing taverns, and lightiDg
vith the watch, after which they often tenoi-
natfid the night's campaign by a Hieep upon the
pavement or in the watch-house, which only served
to give additioual edat to their achieve meats.
Even wlien this reckleSH spirit expressni itself iu
a leas violent character, it was scarcely leas re-
pulsive. Sometimes the balcony of a political
club-house, after the gravest matters had been
discussed, tempted " the ctubstera to insue forth
in/retco with hata Bud no perukes, pipes in their
mouths, men'y faces, aud diluted throats, for the
entertainment of the canaglla below." On one i
occAsioQ of a similar kind, Sedley and his com- !
panions issued forth in such nude attire, and were i
guilty of auch indecent conduct before the public I
gaze, that they were subjected to a serere pen- 1
alty for the misdemeanour. Even the senate- j
house, as we are infoi'med by Pepys, was not '
wholly free from such ex-
cesses, 30 that during a long
debate many of the members
would retire to the neigh-
bouring taverns, and return
half-drunk to help the final
decision. While such was
the character, and such the
usual proceedings of the
English ai-istocmcy of this
period, the female part of
the noble and high-bom
community was but too cor-
respondent. What, indeed,
could be expected from the
example of such a court as
that of Charles II., and the
arbitressesof fasliioQ who oc-
cupied its chief places 1 We
therefore find everywhere iu Oun or P.

the pages of Pepys indica-
tions not only of a general unblushing profligacy
amoug the female aex, but a coarseness and rude-
ness now scarcely to be found except in the pur-
lieus of St. Giles' or Billingsgate. In their frolics,
especially upon occasions of public rejoicing, they
sometimes besmeared each other's faces with soot
and candle-grease, or even exchanged dresses with
the other aex, so tliat the ladies of a merry-meet-
ing figured in cocked hata and periwigs, and the
gentlemen in fardingales. Sometimes the whole
bevy eannonaded the crowd with fireworks, or
pelted each other into a mutual eonfUgration.
lAdiea, too, under the cover of their vizors, oonld
repair unattended to the theatre, and nrry on

their wild intrigues undetected, or even disguise
themselves Cor a street frelic, as if to ontdo the
Scowerers themselves. In this way one of the
queen's maids of honour, afterwards Duchess of
Tyreonnel, disguised heraelf like an orange wench,
and cried oranges in the streets. It does not sur-
prise U3, tlierefore, to be iuformed that gentlemen
did not choose to select their partners in life from
such wild companions, unless, indeed, they hap-
pened to be of superior beauty and welt-dowried,
in which case the nocwityaf auch a union was
endured for its edai, or until the bride's fortune
was squandered away.

Of the other spoi-ts of the noliility and gentry
of the period, only a brief notice is necessary.
One favourite game was tennis, which had been
practised in England at least from the time of
Henry V., and seems to have been common
throughout Europe from an early period. This
game, which required much activity aud exer-
tion, was so great a favourite with Charles II.,
that after weighing himself, be found that he
had lost four poimds and a ball during a single
game. Another was poU-mall, which was so

lLL-kall— 'Prom a ploCiin, tima of Chirls IE.

greatly relished, that the mall in St. James's
Park, a vista half a mile in length, and flooreii
or pAvod with a mixture of earth and cockle-shells
powdered and spread over it, was prepared in
this manner for the practice of Uie game. At the
extremity of this walk was a pole, from which an
iron hoop was suspended; and the play consiste<t
in striking a ball through this ring from a con-
siderable distance. To these may be added tite
game of bowls, which was ]ilayed by ladies as
well as gentlemen. Foot-racing was also fashion-
able, and enjoyed the patronage of Charles II.,
before whom the young courtiers tried their ac-
tivity in running-matclies. Another active out-

»Google

7ft0

msrroKY of England.

[Social Stat::

of door sport was skating. This winter amuae-
menC, now so keenl; followeit in England, liad
been in vogue after a fashion at the time of f itz-
Btephen, who informs uh that the persons who
practised it fastened the leg-bones of a abeep or
Bonie animal to the soles of their feet; and armed

with a, pole shod with iron, which they carried
with both hands, they shot themselves along the
ice with the speed of a bullet discharged from a
cross-bow. Sometimes two of these skaters would
encounter each other in full career, like knights in
atilting-match,and thenhappj washe who could
keep hia legs in such a shock ] After this, we
hear nothing of the practice in England, until
it was introduced as a novelty t^ the exiled
courtiers at the Restoration, who bad learned the
practice in Holland. It astonished many, and
Evelyn among the rest, who notes in his diary
"the strange and wonderful dexterity of the
sliders on ttie new canal in St. James's Park,
performed before their mBJesties by divers gen-
tlemen and others with tcAeeti, after the manner
of the Hollanders ; with what a awiftneaa they
pass, how suddenly they stop in full career upon
the ice." The Duke of York also appears to have
been a keen skater, so tliat he ventured upon the
canal even though the ice was broken, "which,"
says Pepye, " 1 did not like, but he slides very well."
From the shortness of an English winter, how-
ever, and the insecurity of our frosts, some time
appears to have elapsed before the amusement,
at first confined wholly to London, became gene-
rat over the island. The multiplication of coaches
and chairs had made riding on horseback less
necessary, and consequently less frequent than
before; but still horaemansUip was a graceful ac-
complishment, and to ride well was regarded as
the token of a well-trained gentleman. It was es-
pecially.easentialinafinished education, of which
military exercises formed an important part; and
therefore the young riders, besides the ordinary
lessons in fence, were taught Grmnens and ac-
tivity in the saddle by the old practice of run-
aing at the ring, firing pistols at a mark, throw-
ing javelins at the figure of a Moor's head, and
picking up a glove on the point of a sword, all
which were performed at full speed upon horse-
back.

The fashionable in-door sports of this period
were now beginning to assume a more intellec-
tual character than hitherto, and therefore Qitn
was upon the whole less of boisterous merriment,
as well as gross feeding, than had pr-viouily dis-
tinguished the homes of the £Uiglbb geatry.
Card-playing and the variona forms of gsmbltn;
were now the chief objects of attroction, espe-
cially to old gentlemen and grave formal lailin;
while the young scions of nobility could atiU
amuse themselves with the romping gtunes of
hnndy-cap, hunt-the-slipper, and blind-nun's-
buff. The dramatic spirit, as a source of imnw-
ment, had now also been so deeply stamped npu
the English character, that splendid masqaesud
private theatricals were frequently got up st the
entertainments of the nobility. Something, how-
ever, still was wanting to fill up the honnof tin
day, independently of out-door games and honK
amusements ; and therefore, during this period,
the happy idea of a circulating library seemt
first to have been started. The earliest notice of
the kind we can discover is by one Francis Ke>-
man, a bookseller near Temple Bar, who inrittd
cuatomcni to his English and French histori«,
romances, or poetry, which they mi^t either
buy or reofj" for reasonable considerations.' The
alternative be presented must have been a wel-
come one to the book-devourers of the day, who
could thus read ad libitum without loading tbeir
book-shelves and emptying their pockets; uid
Newman assuredly found these "reasonable wn-
sideratious" very profitable, from the nnmbera d
his brethren who soon followed his eiample,»nii
improved upon his plan. Astheideaof clreulst-
ing libraries is so closely connected with tlut ol
watering-places, some inquiries about the hitler
will not here be unseasonable, more especiftll.v 19
Londou had now so many fashionable iuliaU-
tants, whose sole employment was to kill time or
hang upon the court, and who had no lon^
country mansions in which the summer montb
could be got over. These, as well as the aidil}'
and hypochondriacal, who were now multjpljii^
apace, needed an occasional retreat fnwi the
smoke and smother of London ; and the neigl'-
bourhood of some healing spring presented, is
such a cose, the greatest amount of attractioii-
The watering-places of England therefore w««.
even already, beginning to be places of fMbiou-
able solicitude ; and of these, Bath was then, tn
it Jong continued to be, the chief. For centuriw
previous, its mineral springs had been noted f'^'
the cure of every disease; and their miracul(>ii)i
powers were now so highly extolled by the me-ii-
cal faculty, that the tide of London inTalidi li«l
bc^n to flow in this direction. But the acoom-
modations of ths towTi, ss we learn from Wooli
the architect, were ot the poorest descriplio>^

,v Google

A.D. 1C60— 1689.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

" The bonrda of the din ing- rooms," be says,
" and moat other floors, in the houses of Bath,
were miule of a brown colour vtith toot and tmaU
beer, to hide the dirt aa well as their own imper-
fections; and if the wulla of any of the rooms
were covered with wainscot, it was such as was
mean and never paiuted. The chimney-pieces,
lieiu:thB,and slabs were all of freestone; and these
were daily cleaaed with a particular kind of
whitewash, which, by paying tribute to every
thing that touched it, soon rendered the hrown
floors like the slArry firmament .... With
Kidderminster stuff, or at best witli cliene, the
woollen furniture of the principal rooma was
made; and such as were of linen consisted only of
corded dimity or coarse fustian; the matrons of
the city, their daughters, and their maids flower-
iug the latter with worsted during the interrala
between the seasons, to give the beds a gaudy
look. Add to this, also, the houses of the richest
inhabitants of the city were, for the most part,
of the meanest architecture, and only two of
them could show the modem comforts of sash
windows." Such was Bath, until, through the
architecture of Wood and the legislation of Nash,
iC became the moat splendid of English cities,
and the most fasliionable of watering-places.

We now direct our attention to those sports
nnd amusements which were of
n leas exclusive and aristocratic
character. And first of these,
we may turn to the feativala in
which all could freely participate.
May Day was stilt observed, but
wiLliout its former pomp of dr-
cumstance. The chief observ.
ance now used on this occasion
was for young women of all
ntnks to repair to the fields at
sunrise, and gather the dew of
the first May morning, which
was supposed to have a magic
power in beautifying the cpm-
plexion. Thispracticecontinued
until nearly the close of the last
century, when it was utterly
laughed out of countenance both '
in town and country. Another i
practice of this festive day was
peculiar to the milk-maids, who
on this occasion danced along the streela in
groups, preceded by a musician, and having
their pails wreathed with flowen. The day of
St. Valentine was still a seaaon of love-making,
in which geutlemen sent presents of jewellery,
gloves, ribbons, and other such tokens, to their
iniHtresaes, accompanied with choice rhyming
!ove-i>09iea. New-year's Day was also a day
of gifta, and these chiefly from inferiors to their

on their sovereign, and presented to him their
dutiful homage, each in a sum of money gi-adu-
ated according to rank, that of an earl being
twenty pieces of gold in a purse. In the same
way landlords were waited upon by tLeir depen-
dants, and courtiers by their clients. The chief
observance of Christmas was now a good dinner,
to which certain dishea were especially conse-
crateil. All this was a sore falling off of those
old festivals by which England had been once
stirred from her lowest depths ; but first the
Beformation, and then the Puritan ascendency,
and,finally,the predominance of higher cares and
pursuits, had rightfully swept away these obser-
vances, which had originated in heatheniwn, and
been fostered by the riot and frivolity of a bar-
barons state of life.

It is delightful to find that music had not yet
lost its charms, notwithstanding the confusion of
theCivil warand the profligacy with which it was
followed. From an early period the English had
been esBentially a musical people; aud not con-
tent with the gleemen and troubadours by whom
the chivalrous agea were gladdened, they in many
instances became their own musicians, so that
during the seventeenth century no miacellaueous

party could be assembled without the shawm, pi|ie,
lute, or viol-de-gamba, upon which some of the
gneats were certain to be able performers. Every
street also had generally ita musical band, under
the name of a naUe, that could be hired for an
entertainment at the shortest notice. Even the
barbers' shops, inatead of being mere gossip-

I ' 1. Pip".

oL lU-gAJDha

»Google

782

niSTOEY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Staix

BtstioDS, were places of musical r^ale : the small
viol, cithern or guitar generally hung upon the
wall ; and the gallant, while nraiting to have his
locks curled, his chin aliaved, or mustaches
trimmed, might call for a concert from the mas-
ter aud his apprentices, or regale himself with a
solo until bia turn to be operated upon had come
round. In the diarj of Pepys we learn from
maaj incidental notices, that eveniug sociiil par-
ties among the higher classes were common, where
almost every person could sing hy the scale, and
play upon a musical instrument; and that it was
not onuaiial for a party embarking upon the
Thamee for a merry-making in the country, to
enlivea their aquatic trip by a full chorus of
voices upon the water both going and retamiog.
The streets imd lanes were equally vocal, where
all kinds of tunes were whistled, hummed, or
suDg,so that at this period barbers, cobblers, and
ploughmen were specified as the " heirs of music "
at least, if tbey had no other inheritance. But
even already this general spirit of melody was
departing. And first it was noticed that the bar-
bers' shops were becoming silent, for the critical
task of wearing periwigs abaorbed all the time
and attention of its inmates. In like manner,
the engrosdng nature of new political studies
occupied the attention of the higher classes, and
left no ioclinatiou for crotchetiug and quavering.
But, above all, the mercantile spirit that was ob-
tjuuing full predominance, and the keen struggle
for wealth, or even for subsistence, which it oc-
CAsioned, made music be abandoned and forgot.
How could the voice of song or the tinkling of
a lute be expected to issue from shop aud ware-
house ? It would have been regarded as the in-
fallible forerunner of a statute of bankruptcy.
A centiuy aud a half of this ominous silence fol-
lowed, in which the jaded spirit of society, aft«r
the toils and anxieties of the day, conteutad itself
wid) the hireling music of singing men and
singing wemen, and only listened that it might
be laid to sleep. It is only now that there is the
promise of something like a revival

In pasaing to the more public ouUof-door sports
irf this period, we must not overlook the game of
footltfitl, so long thedelight of the English people,
because 40 well adapted to stir up the national
gravity into full excitement and glee. It was
now pi'octised in London, chiefly by the appren-
tices, and that, too, in places of public resort — -
Cheap«ide, Covent Garden, and the Strand— and
there the peaceful pedestrian had often to en-
counter such a whirlwind of e.iger players as the
whole ^XMK oomitattu of London police could not
have withstood. On flew the bolt; aud wherever ■
it passed, out rushed shopman and 'prentice, al-
lowing business and customers to shift as they
might; while the progress of Uie gome might be I

marked by overturned beaux.aud frightened rear-
ing horses. " I would now mode a safe retreat," says
Daveuant's sarcastic Frenchman, "but that me-
thinks I am stopped by one of your heroic games,
called football; which I conceive (under your
favour) not very conveniently civil in the etreets;
especially in such irregular and narrow roads
as Crooked Lane. Yet it argues your courage,
much like your military pastime of throwing at
cocks. But your metal would be more magni-
fied (since you have long allowed those two valiant
exercises in the street), to dnkw your archera
from Ftnsbury, and during high market, let them
shoot at butts in Cheapside." In this passing
allusion to Finsbury, we are reminded of the
trials of archery that still lingered there, al-
though with immeasurably less stir and splen-
dour. In the days of Henry VIII., when the
bow was atilt the chief national weapon, the es-
tablishment of archers which he founded, under
the title of the " Fraternity of St. George," were
empowered " to exercise shooting at all maaoer of
marks and butts, and at the game of the popinjav.
aud other games, as at fowl and fowls, as welt
in the city as suburbs, and in all other places;"
and even if the flying arrow by mischance killed
a man, the shooter was to go free, if be had
cried "Fast !' before he let loose the bow-string.
But now that London was a crowded city, and
archery a mere amusement, the toxopbilitea of
this period were cooped up for exercise in Pins-
bury Fields, where the old butts were reduced to
an eighth part of their former number, and the
mark to little more than a fourth of the distance.
The streets of lijndon, however, were by no
means free from strife, riot, and bloodshed during
this stormy aud changeful period, and chieBy
originating in political causes, where the chief
arguments were blows, and the combatants fre-
quently men of different nations. Such was the
case in 1661, when a fierce conflict occurred in
Cheapside between the trains of the French and
Spanish ambnasado^s, in which Iwth parties met
on purpose fully armed for battle. The Inns of
Court also, although the homes of law aud order,
had their feud against the civic authority, in
which the atudenta oompelled the lord-mayor's
sword of ofiice to be depressed in their presence,
and otherwise conducted theiuselves ao riotously,
that a strong military force had to be marched
to the rescue of the worthy magistrate.

Duringtbe Puritan period an unwonted gravity
had pervaded the streets of London, liecanse,
while the cruel end immoral public sports wero
prohibited as sinful, those of a more innocent
chamct^r were discountenanced as frivolons. Of
course, bull-baiting and cock-fighting, instead of
being displays in the open air for the amuse-
ment <A a gaping crowd, were driven into priraU

»Google

Ji.n. 1660— 1689]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

corners, anO bear-Witing was riuted with hettvT
penalties. Tliiii last sport eapecially waa so ob-
noxious to the lieads of the Commonwealth, that
on« of the first actaof Cromwell's suprenukcj ivas
a general slaughter of the bears, by which the
evil was struck at tlie root. It was equally
characteristic of the new spirit of the Restomtion
that these sports were restored, and people were
allowed to torture and massacre cocks, bulls, and
bears according to their own likiug. Of the
nature of the exhibitions at one of the most noted
of these re-opened public places, the following
example from Evelyn's Diaiy, of date 16th June,
1670, will be reckoned a auBicieDt specimen :^
"I went with some frieuda to the bear-garden,
where woa cock-fighting, dog-fightiug, bear and
bull baiting, it being a famous day for all these
butcherly sports, or rather Iwrbarous cruelties.
The bulla did exceeding well, but the Irish wolf-
dog exceeded, which was a tall greyhound, a
atately creature indeed, who beat a cruel mastiff.
One of the bulls toaaed a dog fidl into a ladtft
lap, as she sat in one of the boxes at a consider-
able height from the arena. Two poor dogs were
killed, and so all ended with the ape on horse-
hack ; and I most heartily weary of the rude
and dirty pastime, which 1 had not seen, I think,
in twenty years before." Attempta were even
mnde to revive t^e old eavage Anglo-Saxon
Bportof horse-buiting 1 and Evelyn informs ns of
an exhibition of this kind, in which a gallant
hoTse was brought out into the iHiig to be baited
to death by mastiffs, under the pretext that it
had killed a man. The steed beat off ever;
assailant, and at last was stabbed to death with
knives, that the dnnioroua mob who looked on
might see it die. Descending to less obnoxious
exhibitions, we find from Davenant's poem en-
titled " The Long Vacation of London," that
popular amuseoienta were exhibited in almost
every street, and were performed in the open
air; and in examining these, we find that they
were of the same character as those which in the
present day can scarcely obtain a locality even
in the most silent alleys of the metropolis, or a
throng of children for spectators. There were
tumblers, conjurors, rope-dancers, and other each
public exhibitors, whom he has thus eonmerated;
and who, when the "Long Vacation' of the
capital had arrived, were wont to betake them-
selves to the country, to make a harvest among
the jieiiBautry -.-^

Anil %yt, lad oapCivK •till in ch&ln
Till liii ronouBos the pops and SjiaiB :

Ur taod ID he
And nun in al

IhippMthiiiu

ueI duHing 1am
Ihftt CTif^ Hej. p»i« :

D creep thmgh hvoii :

The chief place where these wonderworkers
congregated was Fleet Street, so that the lounger
who was in quest of amusement of this kiu<t,
knew whither to direct his steps. The great
civic fairs also, especially those of Sonthwark
and Smithfield, gathered the whole fraternity of
conjurors, tumblers, and showmen into one focuti,
and helped both to promote and enliven the
serious business which had originally called the
crowds together. The more superior kinds of
these exhibitions, that were deemed too good for
mere indiscriminate display in the open air, had
buildings set apart for their performance, while
a considerable price was levied for admission,
and the aristocracy and wealthier citizens di<l
not disdain to be spectators. Of these, puppet-
shows were the cliief, where scrijitural pieces,
such as the Deluge, Solomon, or the Twelve
Apostles, were fashioned into plays, like the
miracles and mysteries of the earlier ages, and
performed by puppets. Other performances
advertised during this period, indicate the taste
of the higher classes who frequented them. Of
these was Joseph Clark, the wonderful posture-
master, whose body was of such flexibility that
he could throw it into any shape, and exhibit
every phase of deformity. In this way he per-
plexed a tailor, who tried to measure him as a
hump-backed man, but found the hump shifting
from one shoulder to the other, or totally disap-
pearing, with such rapidity, that he alaaudoned
the attempt as hopeless. Of raree shows, there
was a room or hall in Uattou Garden dignified
with the name of the " Paradise," which was
furnished with ail sorts of animals handsomely
punted on boards or cloth, " and so cut out and
made to stand, move, fly, crawl, roar, and make
their several cries." To tliis magical display there
. was a fitting hierophant, for Evelyn adds, " Tlie
roan who showed It made us laugh heartily at
his formal poetry." lu feata of agility, there
was the Turkish rope-dancer, who capered blind-
fold upon the tight-ru]ie with a lioy suspended
from bis heels about six or seven yards below.
Another thaumaturgist was a Frenchman, Florian
Marchand by name, who taking a draught of
only fountain water, returned it from his mouth
in every variety of wines and sweet conlials.
(The same experiment, though in a less repulsive
form, has equally gratified the fiuihionable circles
of our own day.) The feats of etrengtl), leger-
demain, and firs-«atiDg, it is needless to particu-

,v Google

78 1

UISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Stats,

larize; it is sufficient to state, tliat the displa^B
of this kind, which can scarcely now attract tlie
attention of the humblest spectators, were in
those diiys regurded by the atistocrocy of Eng-
land with delight, and were often liired to grace
their most important festivals and entertainments.
Uf this, Ukke the following specimen: — Lady Sun-
derland, on giving a dinner at Leicester House,
sends for Bicbardson, tli% famous fire-eater, as
the chief dish of the entertainment ; and his feata
on this occasion would scarcely be palatable to a
modern higli-born party, " He devoured brim-
stone on glowing coals before ua, chewing and
swallowing them. Ue melted a beer-giaas and
ate it quite up; then, taking a live coal on his
tongue, he put ou it a i-aw oyster : the coal waa
blown on with bellows till it flamed and sparkled
in his mouth, and so remained till the oyster
gaped and was quite boiled; then be melted
pitch and wax with sulphur, which he drank
down as it flamed; I aaw it flaming in his mouth
a good while. - He also took up a thick piece of
iron, such as laundresses use to put tu their
smoothing- boxes, when it was fiery hot, held it
between his teeth, then in bis hand, and threw
it about like a stone; but this, I observed, he
cared not to hold very long.' Happy digestion
of our ancestors, who could view such an after-
dinner scene not only unmoved, but, like the
elegant Evelyn, with positive admiration and
delight.

As during the Commonwealth, the theatre as
well as the bear-garden had been closed, the open-
ing of the former accompanied that of the latter at
the Bestoration ; and to frequent the play-house
became one of the moat distinctive marks of a gal-
lant Cavalier, and stanch adherent of church and
state, in opposition to the Puritans, who regarded
all such buildings as tenta of Kedar, and temples
of abomination and idolatry. Fortunately, too,
it happened for the exhibition of the English
drama, that Sir William Daveuant superin-
tended it, and that his inventiveness and artistic
taste were ailequate to such a charge. Under
his management, therefore, improvements were
introduced by which the glorious productions of
Shakspeare, Beaumont and Fletcher, and Ben
Jonson were embodied in a fashion worthy of
their high excellence. The stage was lighted up
with wax-candles, so that light was thrown over
its whole amplitude. The orchestra, instead of
consisting of a fiddler or two, or a musician who,
like "Goodman Dull," could "play upon his pipe
and tabor to the worthies," was filled with a
whole baud of some ten or a dozen well-trained
jierfurmers. The actors too, who had hitherto
beeu eutii-ely of the male sex, and who, in acting
female parts, had been obliged to speak in a
" monstrous small voice," no longer held exclu-

sive possession of the stage; and the intradnction
of beautiful talented women aa actresses, im-
parted fresh reality to the representation. Cor-
rectness in costume, also, was more carefully
studied than even at a later and more improved
period; so that, as Fepys informs ua, when Queen
Elizabeth was introduced upon the stage, it was
with her own bead-dress, starched ruff, long bod-
dice, and voluminous fardingaie, although these
must have seemed grotesque antiquities to the
t>eauiand belles of the merry court of Charles II,
Nor was scene-painting omitted amidst all this
solicitude; and towns, castles, and rural land-
scapes took the place of those placards, with
their mere names, whidk were hung up on the
front of the stage, to direct the imaginations of
the audience. These improvements, however,
important though they were, and in proper taste
and character, seem to have been too much in
advance of the age, as appears in the abuseswith
which they were very speedily followed. The
attractions of music, scenery, and dress, soan
constituted the chief excellence of dramatic re-
presentation, so that trumpery spectacles, msnu-
factured chiefly in reference to these, often super-
seded the regular drama. It was not yet tin
time that female modesty could confront a public
niiscellaneous auditory and remain unsullied,
and therefore the actresses accustomed to the lan-
guage with which they were greeted, as well as the
characters they were required to perform, either
commenced their stAge career as worthless courte-
zans, or very speedily became so. lu this way,
with audiences but too ^t for such representa-
tions, they exbibited such ahamelesaueae in dreaa,
attitude, and deportment, aa only deepened and
confirmed the general depravity. And still, all
this was anti-puritan and most loyal, and well
fitted to secure the patronage of " Old Bowie;,'
whose indentured servants the acton and actrfsses
were by royal patent. As music and dancing
received such a fresh impetus from the reetored
drama, and as the taste of the king and couttien
had been formed upon foreign models, native
talent was soon set aside in favour of performen
from the Continent; and thus Italian singers and
French dancers inundated the English stage, and
at last eclipsed its drama, so that Dryden bun-
self could scarcely obtain a hearing, while Shak-
speare was condemned as a barbarian.

Of the general features of metropolitan life
and maunerB, ii hasty notice may suffice. The
age of club-houses had now fntly commenced,
and was bo congenial to the English character,
that it bids fair to be iwrpetuoL Here, every
political subject of the day ^os subjected to free
and close examination; and as not merely the
higher but the middle classes attended these
new places of entertainment, n knowledge of

»Googie

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

785

public aSaira wu more widely diffused, and the
■pirit of ualiortal Ubertj iiuned into full Tigour.
Beaidea these club-houses, where pipes uid to-
hseeo, ss well as wine uid stroiig driuk were
siwBjB at hand to auimata the diBcuBBioQ, there
were coffee-honeet of a more temperate chancter,
where not msrelj politics, but also the subjects
of religion aud literature, were debated by their
frequent^ra, who naually repaired to them when
the business of the daj was over. The bevera^s
chiefly used at theee last places were coffee, cho-
colate, and tea ; sod the introduction of this
important herb into England, by which the
whole established economy of diet was changed,
aa well as temperance promoted, health improved,
and life itself lengthened, is wortliy of particular
uotice. Although known by report in Europe
OS a favourite Chinese beverage, during the six-
teenth century, it was not introduced until the
earlier part of the seventeenth, and that too in
small quantities, by the Dutch East India Com-
pany. Its introduction into England is attri-
bnted to Queen Catherine; and while her exam-
ple brought it into partial faabion among the
courtiers, its qualities were so highly appreciated
by a few, that Waller, who calls it, in a royal
birthday ode, the " best of herbs," thus eulogiies

'■Tb»niu.(j'itri.nd,K

, doe* OUT fkacy lid ;

Fit an hn blitbdij M hIdM tta* qiuBL"

Its first entrance, however, was in such small
(lackets, that tliey were presented to the king as
rarities; so that it was not till about eighteen
yeurs after, that so large a shipment as 4713 lbs,
of this precious plant was imported into England
by the East India Company. This consignment,
liowever, was so overwhelming, that for sis years
little more than 400 lbs. of tea followed- In its
first form aa an article of traflic, it was sold in a
liquid atate, aud in this way also it was taxed at
the rale of Bd. per gallon. ThuH it continued
to be sold in single cupa, and at a high price,
until after the Bevolutlon, when the use of
it became more general, and the art of making
it was a household accomplishment; while, for-
tunately for tea-drinking, a female sovereign
ruled over Britain:—

In turning our attention to the progress of
science, literature, and the fine arts, as mani-
fested in the productions of the present period,
the department of architecture first solicits our
notice. This at once is evident from the fact,
that the metropolis of the empirs, wliich, in a few
days was swept away, waa replaced by another,
richer, statelier, and larger than the former, and

Vol. II.

that so great a work was accomplished in a very
fewyears. No other nation could haveacbieved
snehaatupendonsfeat; and London restored was
a triumph of English wealth, resources, and en-
terprise, that gave fidl promise of the ascendency
which the country was afterwards to attain. On
this occasion, too, it may emphatically be said
that the emergency called forth the man, so that
when a new metropolis worthy of the national
grandeur was to be created, a great architect was
at hand to direct the undertaking. The vast,
varied, and creative mind of Sir Christopher
Wren, extending over a long life, sufficed not

only to commence but complete the work, so
that upon the gates of the capital itself, as well
as upon bis tomb in St. Paul's, the motto might
have been engraved ; — Si monmnentiim qvarii,
cireutrupice.

This great architect,who at the commencement
of his career seems to have been ignorant of his
proper vocation, as well as the great work which
he waa destined to acoomplish, was originally a
student at Oxford, where mathematics and as-
tronomy occupied his chief attention; and such
was his proficiency in these sciences, that at the
early age of eighteen, he was one of the most
distinguished of those illustrious philosophers
who afterwards, in 1660, constituted the Roynl
Society. England, however, was to be sufficiently
enriched by her Newton; and therefore Wren,
after obtaining a high reputation in the mathe-
matical and aatfonomical sciences, turned his
attention to their practical application by the
study of architecture, so that, in 1661, he was
appointed coadjutor to Sir John Denham, the
poet, who, on the death of Inigo Jones, bad been

»Google

786

HISTOKY OF ENGLAND.

raised by royal favour to the post of snrveyor-
generaL Of course, the duties of such a part-
nership would fall upon Sir Christopher, aod one
of the first was to survey and plan the restora-
tion of St Paul's Cathedral, now grodaally fall-
ing iuto ruin. Sir Christopher soon found that
snch a restoration would at best be but a patch-
work ; and while the question was pending
whether the building should be repaired or
wholly rebuilt, the great conflagration stepped iu
to decide the controversy. Both capital and cathe-
dral were now a heap of rubbish, and all must
be mode anew. It would be unfair to ask how
much the exultation of Wren at being thus
emADcipated from the tinkertng-up of an old
worn-out city, may have qualified his regret at
the demolition, mid sympathy for the sufferers;
it is enough to know that he set to work to re-
pair the evil, and soon created a better London
than the former. Never upon any one architect,
perhaps, had such a task been devolved since the
days of the building upon Shinar. Aa the legis-
lature had now a full opportunity for passing
such enactments as might secure comfortable
healthy houses and commodious streets, it was
decreed, that in future all buildings iu London
should be of brick or stone; that party-walls, of
sufficient strength and thickness, should separate
one house from another; and that taia-water
pipes should be substituted for the spouts that
had been wont to pour their tarrentfl from the
house-tops upon the heads of those who walked
below; while buildera were exhorted to devise
improvements for their structures by making
mouldings, and projections of rubbed brick. In
the meantime. Wren had surveyed the ruins,
and presented his plan for laying out the new
town. Need it be added, that tliis plan, though
grand, regular, and comprehensive, was crossed,
altered, and curtailed, through the caprice, the
jealousy, or poverty of those at whose expeiwe it
was to be realized, and who therefore claimed a
principal voice in its details ? Still, much was
accomplished, although it fell far short of the
original. Such was also the fate of St. Paul's,
the crowning work and master-piece of the great
architect, the plan of which the Duke of York
altered to suit the Popish ceremonial, when Ro-
manism should be restored in Britain, although
Wren with tears remonatrated against the inter-
ference. Such, too, in a still greater degree was
the fate of the London Monument, the ori^nal
plan of which, as presented by Sir Christopher,
was highly graceful and appropriate; but which
had the fate to fall into the hands of the civic
authorities for realization. Let us forget, if we
can, what they made of it; —

" Ixmdon'i mlmnii polntli* to th* iklH.
LUu K tall boll; UR* tba bMd ud bn"

[SociAi. Stats.

The amenities of moderu society have prevailed
at last. The lie is expunged, and the " tall
bully," as if he had just escaped the infliction
of the pump, stands shivering and creetfallea

Besides St. Paul's, which Sir Christopher had
the singular good fortune to complete as well an
plan, he superintended the erection of fifty-one
churches iu London, which still constitute the
chief architectural ornaments of the now greatly
changed and improved metropolis. To these
might be added public buildings both in London
and elsewhere, of which a mere list would exceed
our limits. After having done so' much for his
country, and raised the character of its archit«c-
ture to so high an eminence, his fate was that
which usually awaite the greatest of benefactors:
society united to persecute that excellence which
it could not equal, and retnm injuries for those
benefits which it could not repay. Deprived of
his office of surveyor-general, which he liad held
for forty-nine years, he calmly exclaimed, "A'tnn:
mej'uiet/oriuna acpeditiut phUovyakari;' and re-
tired to the countiy at tiie age of eighty-six, where
he spent the remaining five years of his life in
contemplation and reading, and chiefly in the
study of the Holy Scriptures. There, also, he
closed his career; "cheerful in solitude," says his
son, "and as well pleased to die in the shade as
in the light." His final resting-place, aa well as
fittest monument, was the vault of St. Panl's, ti>
which his remains were deposited. Bis fama
was so great, and his excellence so transcendent,
that during the present period no other KogUsh
architect is named. Whether his place has been
adequately filled at any period smce his depar-
ture, can be best learned by a glance at oar pablic
buildings.

In paselDg to the imitative arts, we find that
English sculpture was still in infancy, its princi-
pal efforts being confined to carving in wood and
the decoration of honses. It was natnial that
such should be the case in England, as, of all the
fine arts, sculpture is the least ostentatians, and
requires the highest refinement in taste to be
properly appreciated. Hence it is generally the
latest step in the progress of national civilization.
One sculptor, howerer, this age produced, who,
under adequate encouragement, might have risea
to high excellence. This was Caius Gabriel CiK-
ber, who, although not au Englishman, but n
German, prosecuted the study of the art in Eng-
land, and signalized himself by his bas-reliefs on
the London Monument, but still more by his two
figures on the gate of Old Bethlehem Hcapital.
representing "Saving and Melancholy Madness.'
Another sculptor was Grinling Gibbons, who
carved the marble statne of Charles II. which
stood in the centre of the Boyal Ezebangc, and

»Google

A.n. 1C60— 1689.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

787

tliat of June* II. in bronie in the privy garden
of Wbitehftll. Hera the aeuiCr list of oar Btatu-
srie* terminat«8 for tha j^eawtt With regard to
{laintiDg, a more promiung er« seemed to have
eommenced ia England with Charlei L, whose

D HtLuroBOLT UuHiiB, In BetiildinB Unpltal.

patronage of eminent foreign artists ia well known,
and whose splendid collection of paintings gave
promiae of a achooi in which native talent would
hove been fully cultivated. But the Civil war
arrested this tendency, as well as dinperaed the
collection ; and the Beatoration introduced in
their stead the French school of painting, with
all its absurdities of allegory and elaasical my-
thology, as well as the meretricious moral taate,
which was the chief characteristic of the age.
The chief instructor of the nation in painting at
this period was Antonio Yerrio, whom Charles
II. invited to England, and wbo«e pencil was
employed in decotnting the walls and ecilinga of
some of our principal public buildings, which be
did with gods and goddessea, Roman triumphs
and regal deifications in extraordinary profusion,
and gave a direction to the progress of the art in
England which finally destroyed itself by tt« own
extravagance. The heat native piunters of this
Hchool were Robert Streater, seijeaut-painter to
(Carles II., whose chief work is the painted
ceiling of the theatre at Oxford ; John Freeman,
a dramatic aceue-painter ; and Andrew Fuller, a
xpecimen of whose artistic talent may be seen In
the dome of St. Mary Abchnrch. The eminent
portTwt painter of the day was Sir Peter Lely, a
native of Westphalia, and successor of the cele-
brated Vandyke, whom he excelled in delicacy of
execution, although greatly Inferior to him in the
higher qualities of the art. He came to London
in 1643, and gave himself wholly to portrait
painting, in which he became so great a profi-
rient, as well as such a pleasing flatterer in his
likenesses, that no beauty or fashion beloaging
to the court was considered to be genuine until
it had received the signature of Lis recording
pencil. Of course, hia style of painting, so profit-

able in itself, and ao certain of popularity, was
sure to find many followera, and not a few rivals;
BO that while foreign painters cmwded to Eng-
land as to a newly-opened market, native taleut
began to rouse it*elf, and prepare for a similar
competition. The chief of these
who followed ill the steps of Sir
I'eter, were Henry Anderton,
who almost equalled his master;
Michael Wright, a Scot; and
John Greenhill, a pnpil of Lely,
but who died in the midst of
high promiae. Toirard the close
of this period, also, on the death
of Sir Peter Lely, his place was
fully supplied by Sir Godfrey
Kneller.
Of all the fine arte, none suf-
■ fered so rude a shocli from the
?ivil war as music. Among the
rcligiouH grievances of which the
Puritans had complained since the daje of Eliza-
beth, the use of musical instruraents iu the cele-
bration of public worship had always formed an
important part; and therefore, when their season of
rule arrived, they removed or destroyed the church
organs, and drove the choristers from their stnlls.
In the same reforming spirit they closed the thea-
tres, and silenced every place where ^rq/iine music
had been wont to be cultivated. Even a violin
was enough to set their teeth on edge, so that
the poor street Crotedero wss obliged to exercise
his harmleas vocation iu comers and by-places.
But as the love of raueic is so universal that it
can neither be utteHy silenced, nor yet wholly
satisfied with psalmody, its recovery waa far easier
at the Restoration than that of sculpture and
painting. Accordingly, on the re-establiahment
of monarchy, both cathedrals and theatres were
once more opened, and bishops and actors re-
placed in their several offices. In the same man-
ner, organs were repaired, or built anew ; and
every effort was made to recall those musicisns
whom the civil discord had scattered, and where
those could no longer be found, new performers
were invited from the Continent. As for Charles
himself, although his taste In music waa ques-
tionable, he loved the art as a recreation and
source of pleasure; and therefore, both for the
royal chapel and the palace, a well-selected choir
was speedily established. But in this, as in other
matters, his predilections were so esseDtially
French that the band of the chapel royal con-
sisted of twenty-four violins, while the music of
his palace entertainments was too exclusively such
as would have suited the festivals of a Sardana-
paluB. "God forgive me!" exclaims Pepys, on
returning from one of his visite to Whitehall, "I
never was so little pleased with a concert of music

»Google

788

HISTOBY OF BNOULND.

[Social Stat*.

in my life.' As Fepya felt, bo, no doubt, felt
many a Cavalier of the old Bngliali stamp ; and
thtu the Dational apirit could not be so easily
perverted in its music as in departments of atill
higher import. A proof of this is to be found in
the popular musical compositions of the period,
ill the form of songs and ballads, and especially
iu the national airs oE "Lillibulero" and "Ood
save the King." A still higher proof is exhibited
in the popularity of Matthew Lock's music to
"Macbeth," with which the play was first per-
formed in 1674, and which retains its attractive-
ness uuJiminiahed to the present day. A mtisi-
dao, too, appeared at tliis period of such sur-
passing genius, that his works alone would have
sufficed, iu the absence of others his contempor-
aries, to purify the stream of English melody, and
make it flow in its own native direction. This
was Henry Purcell, who was not only superior to
every English predecessor, but without a rival
among the great conUnental musicians of his day.
That his-excelleDce, also, waa of no adventiUous
character, is proven by the fact that his popu-
larity continued after new styles of music hod
been introduced, and that his compositions are
more highly appreciated than ever by the best
musical critics of the nineteenth century.

Of English progress in the study of the exact
sciences, it i^i enough to observe thtit ttie ulence
and seclusion they bo urgently require was want-
ing during the previous public commotions, and
that even an apprenticeship to profound calcula-
tion could scarcely be commenced until the din
and insecurity of civil contention had passed
away. Hence it waa that few eminent students in
these sciences appeared until the present season
of poUtical strife hod closed. Such, however,
was not equally the case in those other depart-
ments of intellect which are always in demand
as well as iu active exercise, and which a time of
public contest often tends to invigorate. We
need not here allude to the thunder- shower of
pamphlets that contiuued to deluge the political
horizon, from the KiUing no Murder ot Colonel
TitoB, to the last discussion of the veracity of
Titus Oates ; or the controversies, both iu theo-
logy and politics, which were oceaaioued by the
encroachments of Popery and arbitrary power.
It is enough to ramiud the reader, by the repeti-
tion of a few names suggestive of the different
departments in which the intellectual leaders of
the age had put forth their strength. Of these,
we have for historians the Earl of Clarendon, and
Qilbert Burnet, Bishop of Salisbury — the former
the solemn Johnson, and the latter the minute,
gossiping Boswell, of English history during the
seventeenth century. At first sight, it might
seem utterly Incongruous to place these names in
ouch close juxtaposiUon ; but when we recollect

the paucity of facts with which the stately histoty
of Clarendon is chargeable, and the diligence
with which these are made subservient to mere
party purposes, and contrast tliis with the fidness
and minuteness of Burnet, we can scarcely hesi-
tate in preferring, for all the useful purposes of
history, the bishop to the chancellor. In philo-
sophy, we have for the present era that universftl
genius, Thomas Hohbes, of Malmesbnry, who,
besides being an ethical, metaphysical, and poli-
tical writer, in every department of which he
attained the highest eminence, waa an hiBtoiian
and a poet withal, or at least a tj-anslator of
poetry. But his reputation has descended to the
present day chiefly on account of the atheism
and materialism of his theology, by which fae is
thought to have deepened and confirmed the
general depravity of the period, and fuminhei)
plausible momenta for the exconaoo of the court
of Charles II. His great antagonist. Dr. Balph
Cudworth, appeared at the same time as an anti-
dote, whose True Iniellectiud Syitem of tAe Uiu-
verte, aherein all the Reaion and Philotophy of
Atkeitm it ConftUedy is an imperishable monu-
ment of learning the most recondite, as well as of
thinking the most profound, exact, and original.
Another distinguished writer, both iu science and
theology, was Richard Boyle; while the most ele-
g.-iiit moral essayist of the age was Sir William
Temple.

We have already adverted iu a fonner chapter
to the state of English poetry during the Civil
wars, and afterwards under the Commonwealth.
It was a period full of fierce earneatueas, and
rapidly succeeding inddeut; and therefore, iu-
stead of moduUting their thot^bts into tuneful
numbers, men of genius were obliged to apeak
boldly and briefly in uupremeditated prose dur-
ing the iutervalsofaction, and express themselves
more in deeds than words. In this way, whole
Iliads were fought, not sung, and Odysseys em--
bodied iu actual travel and adventure. And then
came the re-action, but such a re-action! — and
poets, but such poets I The impress of a profligate
king that was stamped so deeply upon the court,
was exhibited with still greater fidelity npon the
soft sensitive spirit of poetry; and thus, in the
indignant language of Uacaulay, " Venal and
licentious scribblers, with just sufficient talent
to clothe the thoughts of a pander in the style of
a bellman, were now the favourite writers of the
sovereign aud the public It was a loathaome
herd, which could be compared to nothing so fitly
as to the rabble of Comas — grotesque monsters,
half-bestial, half-human, dropping with wine,
aud reeling in obscene dances." It was atrange
that amidst such jarring din and dissonanee, the
organ-like munc of Uilton should havp riteu
with a Te Dmm such as the world had never yet

»Google

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

789

heard. But it Bounded iu an empty cathedral;
for the worahippera who would bftve bome the
burden were ailenced or driven away; and the
encred miiiatrel waa obliged to console huDaelf
with the thought that the strain, like ite subject,
waa imperishable, and that the time was coming
when ita undoing echoes woald be cherished bj
generations willing to listen, aa well as able to
appreciate.

As we have already seen, it was as a contrurer-
ualist that Milton was fitatdistinguiabed. Poetry,
indeed, he had written, and that also from an early
)>eriod; while the eminent acquirements which he
made as a student, and the observations with
which he enriched his mind during a course of
travel, seem to have been especially directed to-
wards his cbosea vocation as a poet Already,
also, he had discovered where his surpassing
strength lay, as well as given evidence of ita ex-
istence by his " Oomua,' "L'Allegro,'"Pensero80,"
andotberearlyproductions. Onhisretum toEng-
land, however, at the commencement of the Civil

Jornn MaTDV.— Prom Um pilat 19 Fultboni*.

war, other duties awaited bim, from which he
did not shrink for a moment; and while every
nun wu arming himself for battle, be choae a
more difficult and telf-deuyiug course of action.
" I avoided " be says, " the toil and danger of a
military life, onlj to render my country assist-
ance more useful, and not less to my own peril."
And we know how well this duty waa dinharged
in his controversial and political writings over
a course of twenty years, in which he was the
champion of English liberty against ths whole
literary world, which he opposed ungle-handed.
It was only when this was done that be turned
himself to his long-oontemplated task, which he
had ever regarded as the great work and object
of his life, and which be had obscurely intimated

aa the production of " something which his coun-
trymen would not willingly let die.' And this
great task, which was notbiog leas than Paradite
Lott, be commenced when the middle term of an
active laborious life had passed away, and when
he had done enough for public duty as well as
for fame — when he was reduced to poverty and
obscurity — wheu he was exposed not ouly to in-
sults from the dominant party who haled bim as
a regicide, but from his own bard-heart«d, un-
grateful children— and when, above all, he was
blind, and rednced to helpless dependence upon
the kindness and fidelity of those to whom hia
matchless thoughts were intrusted for transcrip-
tion, and who perhaps repined at it as a weary
uuprofitable task. But with such a character as
that of Milton, perhaps most of these circum-
stances only the better qualified him for its ac-
complishment. Men might revile him, but this
only threw bim back upon the inens corucia recti,
where all was peace and self-approval; and the
world might forsake him, but this little mattered
when he was about to create such a world of bis
own. In the tdienation or the absence of all these,
he would be better able to clotlie his paradise with
its loveliness, and his hell with ita terrors, and
hold communion with the beiugs that peopled
tbem. His universal reading had made him
iudependent of books, so that he needed nothing
more than to recall them to memory, and adapt
their information to his own immediate require-
ments ; and for this, the utter obscuration of all
external ulijects is especially favourable. And
what though he could no longer behold the
changes of day and night, and the bright or
shadowy forms which they disclose in such im-
pressive variety as to constitute a twofold world?
Had he not seen them all? Could he not re-
member tbem vividly) Nay, could he nut now
invest them with every addition of grandeur or
loveliness, untrammelled as he was by the sight of
every-day reality, or the feeling that with every
day, as old age advanced, the aspect of nature was
waxing more common-place and tamel All that
the wisest of sages had written, that the best of
poets had sung, and the loveliest of nature un-
folded to bis view, ware but the plastic elements
which he now might mould at will, and out of
them evolve the scenes of Eden, or the dialogues
of the blest Taking these circumstances, hither-
to reckoned so disqualifying, into account, we not
only assert that Paradim LoM was all the better
by reasou of Milton's age, injurious treatment,
neglect, poverty, and blindness, but that such a
poem would scarcely have been attempted, or at
least successfully accomplished, without them.
In his OSS they refined, spiritualiEed, and mada
all but angelic a mind for which humanity bad
already done its uttermost Let noue then de-

»Google

790

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social SfU-nc

plore Ilia cftl&mitiea and bersATementa, unless for
ftHiltoD they vould have been contented witit an
Bugliah Tuao or Arioete.

No one who haa heard of the Paraditt LoX
can be nBawure of its transcendent merits i and
therefore, as in the case of Shakspeare's writings,
any critical disquisition ie unnecessary. It is
needless also to mention the neglect with which
its first appearance wae treated, as nothing else
couM have been expected from political preju-
dice, as well as the depraved taste of the age of
Charles II. It was not till after the Bevolution,
when the principles for which Milton had con-
tended BO ably were re-acting npon society at

Hiuuh'b Unmt im Tun. is Fcrrr Fr*

large, that juetice began to be rendered to the
greatest and best of epics. This, however, he had
anticipated, and the conviction was sufficient to
cheer him onward to the close. Besides this
master-work, he wrote Paradite Regained, and
I Thii HU DOC of tba gudsn-liauH Air which Millon appein
ta hsTH bid a pnfsnoA \ but th4 puond ii rww wkUad off.
■Dd bppnpTuUd Id tba boBH ronna^ Inhabilad bj Jaramj
BanthuQ. Tba wttan-wlllaw Ina. pUnUd bj^ tha ftaX p«t.
(till flonriahoa, slthoogli tba trnnli ihriin tigni rlt ilataj. The
dapth Df tha pnimiHi la IB) fgat. Ttaa pnaant (ronlafii of tba

aida, otipoaiu tba boiua, an the Indlcitixni of >
buill up, Mlitcb na pnbablr uad hj Hiltcii in pasi
bia boua and WbllabaU dorlug Ma iutergonna willi

iSanuoft.i<9imwt#(,whiGhareooly not the greatest
of English poems, becanee he had produced &
greater. The last years of his life were chiefly
spent in the study of theology, of which the chief
teanlt has been published in our own day in the
form of a posthumous body of divinity. After
having thus lived, laboured, and suffered during
% period of which he was so far in advance, he
died in 1674, and three years after was comme-
morated by a tomb in Westminster Abbey. But
how little of the fame of the author of ParadiM
Lott will have been diminished when the last
stone of the building will have passed away '.

The next poet in order worthy of mention is
Abraham Cowley, who, during bis day, enjoyed
more celebrity than Milton himself. Cowley was
bom in London in 1618. Being a posthumous
child, and of humble birth, for his father had been
nothing more than agrocer, the circurastancea of
his family were bo scanty, that his widowed
mother had great difficulty in procuring for him
a clasdical education. The promise of eicelleooe
which he gave, however, was well worthy of her
exertions; for when he was only fifteen years old
he published a volume of poems, of which one,
entitled "PyramnsandThisbe,''was written when
he was only ten years old, and another, entitled
"Constautia and Pheletua," was composed when
he was not more than two years older. His own
account of his first poetical inspiration is highly
interesting. In the window of his mother't
apartment lay a copy of Spenser's Faerie Queen,
and over this he pored with such enthusiasm that
he became irrecoverably a poet. Not content
with one style of poetry, he also attempt«d th<
drama, and while still a school-boy, wrote a
comedy, entitled "Love's Riddle,' afterwards pub-
lished when he removed to Cambridge to com-
plete his education. On becoming a student of
Trinity College, Cambridge, hia early predilec-
tions still continued to predominate ; and here,
besides his "Naufragium Toculare,' which he pub-
lished at the age of twenty, he wrote the sacred
poem entitled, "Davideia," intended to be a com-
plete epic, but of which only four books were
finished. The notes with which he illustrated this
work sufficiently prove, that with all hia devoted-
ness to the muses, he was by no means neglectful

In tba capadtj at Latin aacnituT In tba honaa JtHlf tba
aRancsTosnt of the wlndon bu baao antiralr cbaofad. It ka
pjobabla thaj oxtanded along tha wboLa front, with alidiiv
frain« or lattloa dirldad bj panaUad apaoea Tba oriflDal

appaan 1o biTa b«frn Dompniad inDnalargarooio,ai tbaorifinat
Iraplace wu avidsntl; litualad iboat tfae oantn ctf cha wall.
on tba w«t aida. rhu waa pnbablj tba ftnil)' nnn. or eaa

»Google

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

791

of the more litoi-Ary iwil laborious departments
of a universitjr education. They are, indeed, a
masB of profound and mried erudition. Hia col-
lege life was rudely interrupted by the com-
meacement of the Civil war : he was ejected from
Cambridge by the parliamentary visitore, and
obliged to take refuge in Oxford ; and when that
peaceful seat of learning was compelled to sur-
render, Cowley fled to the court of the exiled
queen, Henrietta, in Prance, and was employed
by hei>aa confidential secretary, in the manage-
ment of her political correspondence with Eng-
land. From the nature of hia employment, bis
return to Enghmd was attended with considera-
ble danger: he was apprehended, but released

after a short confinement, when he betook himself
to the peaceful study of medicine, to escape sus-
picion as well as procure a livelihood. At the Re-
storation he experienced the usual neglect which
awaited those wlio had toiled or sacrificed in
the service of royalty; but at length, tardy justice
was done to hia services, by a lease of some of
the queen's lands, upon which he was enabled to
spend the rent of his days in studious retirement.
He died in 1667, at the age of fifty-nine, and was
interred with a splendid foneml in Weatminater
Abbey, between Chancer and Spenser, while
Charles II. might be said to prononnce his funeml
enlogium in the brief comprehensive declaration,
that "Mr. Cowley, had not left behind him a
better man in England.*

Besides the works we have already mentioneil,
Cowley published a collection of poetry under
the title of Muceilaniet; the Mittrui, a collection
of love poems; trajislations of Pindar's odes; odes
in the style of Pindar; Anacreontics; andalAtin
work on plants in six books, partly in heroic
and partly in elegiac verse. As a poet, none of his
day equalled him in popularity; hia works went
through numerous editions, and were eagerly
read by all clasaes; while Miltou himself rate<l
him so highly, that he declared the three greatest
English poets were Spenser, Shakspeare, and
Cowley. From this high estimation, however,
the aucoeeding age dissented ; and the estimation
of Cowley at length diminished into somewhat
less than that of a second-rate poet. Like many
of the period, be waa an imitator of Bonne; but
while he succeeded in the quaintneas of phrase-
ology and play upon words by which the writ-
ings of Donne are distinguished, he missed that
which was of far higher importance — the warmth
and depth of feeling by wliich the poetry of the
dean of St. Faul's was chiefly characteriiied. Uu-
impaasioned coldness is unfortunately the chief
quality of Cowley's writings, with the exception
of a few of his Pindarics and Anacreontics. Even
his most importunate love-suits are either hard
metaphysical demonstrations, or far-fetched con-
ceits, in which the speaker is evidently thinking
more of himself than his mistress; while bis
figures of speech, instead of being the natural
living ofi'-shoots of the subject, are flowera made
of coloured cambric, or feather, stuck on witli
gum and wire. Such, indeed, was the prevailing
taste of the age; but no poetry, however excel-
lent, if constructed on such principles, can hope
to descend to poaterity.

Of a far nfore original and natural character
as a poet, was Samuel Butler, the immortal au-
thor of Budibrat, the type of his age in political
character and sentiment, aa Cowley was of its
intellectual habits and poetical taste. Of Butler'a
early history we know nothing, except that he
waa bom at Strensham, inWorcest«rshire, in 1612,
and was the son of a farmer. Whether he studied
at any of our universities is nncertain; but at alt
events no doubt can be entertained of the extent
and variety of his scholarship, which would have
insured him distinction in any department of
literary occupation, and which obtained him the
friendship of Selden. He first lived in the family
of the Countess of Kent, and afterwards iu
that of

■'AtillutlluHlnlM
Id fonigb Undt j'olep'd 9ir Bam'wl Lukft"

This was one of Oliver Cromwell's officers; and
it does not speak much either for the honour or
tjie honesty of the poet, that be requited the
hospital!^ of the good knight, and violated th«

,v Google

792

HISTOKY OF ENGLAND.

Kinctilj of hia bread tad salt, bj conngning him
U> uaiveraal and undying ridicule under the cha-
racter of Sir Hudibraa. An the greater part of
thia poem was written duriog the protectorahip,
it is probable that it was chiefly sketched under
the protecting roof of Sir Samuel, aud while the
unconacious hero of the tale was daily before hia
eye. At the Restoration, Sutler became secre-
tary to the Earl of Carbery; but having been ao
unfortunate aa to lose his wife's fortune, he became
author from necessity, and published the first
part of Madibnu in 1663. The genuiue wit and
droll' mirthful language and rhyme with which
this singular poem abounded, was rewarded with
peaUof popular laughter, while the derision which
it heaped upon the Puritans made it the choice
text-book of the Cavaliers, and favourite of the
king and courtiers, who found in it an inexbaua^
tible source of humorous quotation, and piquant
provocative to witty conversation. It might
have been thought, that Butler was entitled to

B<iMt)iL BvTLia.— Fm

a pTiDt bj Vflrtua, aAar Q Sovt-

as much court favour at least aa merry Turn
Kiliigrew; but those who were thus delighted
with his wit, forgot the poet who famished it,
and allowed him to languish in obscurity, No
incident, perhaps, in the whole reign of Charles
II. so completely illustrates the heartless sellish-
ness which was now the prevailing attribute of
both king and courtier. This is the more appa-
rent, when we consider that the poem, indepen-
dently of its own intrinsic merits, was the dead-
liest attack which their antagonists the Puritans
had ever yet encountered. After a year of in-
terval, the second part of ffiidiirai appeared,
while the third was not published till 167B, when
the author, wearied out with poverty and dissf*-
pointment, ^rew down hia pen, left the work
unSniahed, and died two year* after.

unmerited neglect with which Butler waa re-
quited, may be distinctly traced, the second part
being inferior to the first, while the third is a
grievous falling off from both. But as a whole,
Hudibnu is without a rival, unless it be the Don
Quixote of Cervantes. Like Cowley, Butler was
of the school of Donne; but the stilted artificial
language which was so cold when applied to aub-
jecta of high or deep feeling, finds its proper
place and use in the burlesque of ffadibrat.
There, it is a comic actor taking ofi* the pom-
pous strut and solemn gravity of a Hidalgo, and
shaking pit, boies, and gallery by the imitation.
But amidst all this drollery, there is not only an
int of learning, but also a power of argu-
mentation, and an occasional flash of tender feel-
ing throughout the work, which impart to it
the authority of a Mentor even amidst its wildest
merriment, and show how capable the author was
of the highest flights of genius. Such was the
popularity of Jludibrat, that it produced many
itators; while its sterling eicellenco, so well
adapted for every age, has scarcely dtmiuisheil
its estimatiuu eveu iu the present day, when the
ice-stirring names of Cavalier and Soundhead
e nothing but empty words.
But the greatest poet of the age nest to Mil-
ton, and the most influential in forming the
spirit aud developing the maturity of EngUsh
literature, was John Dryden, the Chaucer of the
seventeenth century. He was bom at Aldwinkle,
Northamptonshire, iu 1632, and educated first at
Westminster School under the celebrated Dr.
Busby, and afterwards at Trinity Oollc^, Cam-
bridge. His first poetical attempt, which he gave
to the world in 1649, was an el^y on the death
of Lord Hastings, a young nobleman of higli
character and promise; but a aubject so well
fitted to call forth affectionate enthuuasm at least,
if not poetical inspiration, from a young poet of
seventeen, was such a tissue of cold conceits and
overstrained artificial figures, as to give no pro-
mise whatsoever of the excellence he was after-
wards to attain. The yoaug lord had died of
the smsU-poi, and Dryden, directing his admira-
tion to the pustules, converts them into ornaments
on the soil of Venus — into jeweis^into rosehudi)
— and finally into pimples, each having a tear in
it (o bewail the piun it was occasioning! This
was enough; and he remuned in silence for nine
years afterwards — not idly, however, as was nuuii.
tested notonly by hisgeneralscholarahip, butthe
superior taste of bis next production, in which he
had the resolution to abandon hia models of Donne
and Cowley, and become a genuine follower of na-
ture. This poem, entitled" Heroic StaoDU on the
Death of Oliver Cromwell," waa a proper tbenw

,v Google

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

793

for Dryden, who bad been educated amoDg Puri-
tans, and patronUed at the court of the protector.
With the Restoration, however, he wns readj with
apiiiuodennderthe title of "Aatiwa Redux," wel-
coming the return of Charles II., twd predicting
from the event a raiUeniuni of political happi-
nesBjandin 16G6 appeared his"AnnuHMirabiliB,''
the aubjects of which were the Dutch war and
the fire of London. It wag only now, indeed,
that bia mind broke forth in full vigour after so
thorough a maturing, and established hira in the
highest rank of poetty. Long before this, how-
ever, hia republican and Puritan ayinpathiea had
expired; the new king and court were mor
liie taste; and as his amatl patrimonial iistate
yielded only about £S0 a-year, while bis wants
equalled a tenfold amount, his chief depende
waa royal favour, which be was ready to purchase
at auy price. And seldom, indeed, has such an

Jour 1>BTDEH . — From ft print bj Vuftu*, altai KiwUtrr

amount of genius been ao mercilessly exacted, or
so poorly repaid. It was Samson in the prison-
house grinding for his daily aubsisteace; and bis
t«Bk is well characterized by one of the greatest
of modem poets:—

'* A rtbiild \ing uhl court
l>QTE1AJId4d fttr Ibflir aiirK^rd pay

Uintiou. utiTi, .ong, u>d pUT-
Thi world dsfnodKl of tha hljh dtaign.
PiDfkiwd the Ood gl'tn ilnnatb. u>d mirrd tbt loClj llM."
This "high design,' which Dryden had long
contemplated, wasagraat national epic, of which
KisgArthurwas to be the hero — but where was
the devoteilness and self-deniaj, the solemn me-
ditation and more solemn prayer, under which
famdite Zott was at that same period arising into
Vol. IE.

form and beauty, and prepai'iug, like a newly
created world, to take its place among tlie host
of heaven ? As a court poet, Dryden was not only
deprived of the leisure, but gradually losing both
the power and the inclination to realize such a
noble conception. In the meantime, he resigned
himself to the wants of the day and the hnmotuv
of the court, and was not only of every phase of
poetry but every change of creed, murmuring
all the while at his hard fate, and declaring that
be had no reason to thank his stars that he was
bom an Englishman. To bett«r his condition,
be married, in 166S, Lady Elizabeth Howard,
daughter of the Earl of Berkehire; but this mar-
riage scarcely increased his fortune, while it em-
bittered his life with an evil-tempered partner.
To add to his caUmities, the Revolution of I68S
threw him out of otSce as poet-laureate, so that
for the rest of hia days he waa obliged to depend
upon the penurious remunerations of Tonson,
and the other publishers of the day. His death
occurred in 1700, and his remains were interred
in Westminster Abbey between the graves of
Chaucer and Cowley.

During a literary life, continued to such a
period, and urged to such constant exertion by
the claims of necessity, the productions of Dry-
den were both aumerousand diversified. Besides
many smaller poems, which of themselves would
fill several volumes, he wrote eight of considem-
ble length, of which the Mind and ike Panihtr,
and Abtalom and Achiiophel.aTe the most distin-
guished. As a dramatic writer he wrote twenty-
eight plays. Besides a poetical version of Virgil,
he gave translations from Ovid, Theocritus, Lu-
cretius, Horace, Juvenal, and Persins. He also
wrote adaptations, under the name of FabUt,
from Chaucer and Boccacio, which, though pro-
duced in his old age, constitute the most popular
and pleasing of bis writings. Indeed, it is per-
ceptible throughout the courae of his writinga,
that although his mind was alow in maturing, it
continned in active operation to the close, sad
that, too, with growing improvement, ao that his
latest productions were also his best. It is to
be remarked, too, that while the poetry of Dryden
was so varied, and so eicelleot in every depart-
ment— while be sketched a character, conducted
an argument, or narrated a tale in such a manner
aa transcended all bis predecessors, and deve-
loped those treasures of poetic art which hitherto
had been unknown, or but imperfectly explored
— he was not only the father of our modem
English poetry, but also of ita criticism; and
white his numerous prefaces and dissertationa
enlightened the public judgment, they were writ-
ten with such power and felicity of language,
that his proas fully rivals bia poetry. Evil waa
the age that converted such a genius into a

,v Google

79 1

niSTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statr

court paiiUer aud pnmsite. And bitter voa the
puDisbmeut arising from the cttiiMiouSDMs of UU
ova powers and worth, combined with the bond-
man's feeling that his ssrvitude wna ao oonflrmed
that it was too lute to cancel the agreement.

After the distinguished four we have psrticu-
l&riz«d, the other poets of the period ma; be dis-
missed with a brief notice. And first of these
we maj mention Bir William Davenant, born nt
Oxford in 1605, and who died in 1068. Not
only his whole life was a poetical medlejr of
change and odventare, but he wished to make its
very commencement poetical also, by counte-
nancing the report that he was the son of Wil-
liam Shalcspeare, although by adultery, thus
sacrificing the fame of his mother and his own
legitimacy to a crazy selfish vanity. While a
prisoner in the Isle of Wight, and with a halter
in prosftect, for his adherence to the cause of
Charles I., he composod the greater part of
Oondibert, a heroic poem, which he never com-
pleted; and afterwards, on being pardoned and
set at large, he became theatrical manager and
dramatic wrjt«r, in which offices he continued till
he died. With all its merits, and they are not
few, Oondibert, from its general style, and the
structare of its versification, is an unwieldypoem,
and as sueh, it speedily found its way to the
lowest depths of oblivion. A better, or at least
a more popular poet was Edmund Waller,,wh«
was also bom in 1605, but who lived tiU 1687.
These stirring times produced in many cases a
(H^cocions manhood; and it has been idleged that
Waller was admitted into parliament when only
in the eighteenth, or, as some even say, the six-
teenth year of his age . At tlie age of eighteen, also,
he commenced authorship, by a poem on the es- '
cape of Prince Charles (afterwards CharIesI.)from
shipwreck at the port of San Andero, in the Bay of
Biscay, Neither sa poet nor statesman, how-
ever, was his political consistency of much value;
for after trimming between king and parliament
until he was distrusted by the f<muer and heavily
fined by the latter, he wrote a panygeric upon
Cromwell at the death of the protector, and was
ready with a new song in welcome of Charles II.
at the Restoration. Little praise can be accorded
to his poetry, except mere smoothness of versifi-
cation, in which he followed the French model ;
and this, with the triviality of his subjects, and .
low tone of sentiment, seems to have i-ecom-
mended him to the flippant courtiers of the day,
with whom his works were in high favour. From
this general censure, however, his eulogy on
Oliver Cromwell, written while his heart was
evidently glowing with unaffected gratitnde,
must be excepted, as it rises to the height of
impassioned ss well as graceful poetry.

Of the high-titled courtier-poets of this period,

the rank as well as notoriety of the Duke of Buck-
ingham entitles him to the first place, nithongh
he was not the best of the "titled rhymers"
oftbeday. Besideswritingthe"Behear8al,''heiB
supposed to have aided in the composition of the
"To'wn Mouse and Country Mouse,*«)iich is gene-
rally included among the poems of Prior. The
Earl pf Rochester, like Buckingham, a universal
genius, has shown by a few of his fugitive pieces,
and especially his poem " Ou Nothing," to what
excellence in poetic art he might have attained,
but for his profligacy and wild eicessts, which
cut him off in the prime of his strenglli at the
age of thirty-four. Another of this courtly
Comus crew was Charles Sackville, Earl of Domt,
a statesman and naval soldier, who was bo foi^
tuuate aa to be in favour suceesively witli Charles
II,, James II., and William, thus showing the
versatility both of his talents and public princi-
ples. His poetry consisted of only a few fugitive
pi«ces, among which his celelnsted song, said to
have been written on the evening previous to the
naval victory of the 3i of June (166S} and com-
mencing with —

" To lU Ton l*di« nov n tiod.'
long retained its popularity, not only on account
of its poetical smartness and simplicity, but the
occasion on which it was produced, and its nauti-
cal charseter, so congenial to the national spirit
of Britain. Not dissimilar to the preceding in
poetical worth, was Wentworth Dillon, Earl of
Roscommon, who, after accomplishing himself
by travel iu Italy, and distinguishing himself by
collecting relics of classical antiquity, returned
to England after the Restoration, plunged into
the excenes of the English court, and, finally,
disgusted with such a kind of life, resunHtd K
course of decorous ivgularHy and study till hi«
death in 1634, His poems are few, while their
character is scarcely above mediocrity ; but to
his honour it may be said that he was the very
Abdiel of the poets of his age, so that

"InaUCtaula-iilvi
Raoommni oal; bOHtt m^MWd Uji,~

He alone had the virtue and self-denial to strug-
gle successfully against the tide to which man of
higher genius than himself so shamefully sue-
cnmbvd. In this enumeration of the second and
third rate English poets of the seventeenth cen-
tury, we must not omit Sir John Denham, the
friend of Cowley, and who shares with Waller
the honour of having been one of the father* of
English verse, on account of the n^larity and
harmony of which he lAs the first to set the
example. This, however, is liU highest praisp,
ns his poems, with the exception, perhaps, of
" Cooper's Hill," published in 1643, scarL«ly rtsa
above mediocrity.

»Google

AJ). 1660— 16S9.]

HISTORY OF SOCIETY,

795

As bu been already noticed, the dnuna of the
present period, in ita externals at least, had
greatly improved upon the preceding n^. But
verf different wns the fate of dramatic poetry
itself, BO that while the stage was amplified, and
adorned with everj allureineiit that could capti-
vate the eensea, the living soul had departed.
So far from producing a Shakspeare, a Marlow,
or a Joneon, their writings were now acarcelf
even tolerated, on account of the French taste,
frivolity, and lioentiouaneBa which the B«stor&tion
had introduced, aa well as the rhyms by which
blank Terse was for a time superseded. Drama'
tic writing, therefore, waa either abandoned, or
only adopted by those who were willing to write
after the new fashion, and become the meT« play-
wrights of the (lay. It was in this spirit that
DrydPu himself was compelled to write his plays;
and who then can wonder that they are ao greatly
inferior to his other productions t Even in their
highest flight, he seldom goes beyond the artificial
sublime, that is, bombast, while his pathos is
little better than puling. All this, however, was
popular with the king&ud court, and consequently
with the public, so that Bryden was obliged to
toil on against his better judgment; and hs
haa himself confessed, that of ail his dramatic
productions, " All for Love" was the only one
which ho wrote according to his own taste and
sense of fitness. Another prolific play-writer was
Sir William Davenant, who produced twenty-
five tragedies, comedies, and masques. Bat of
those who were excluairely dramatic poets, this
period presents us with the names of William
Wycherly, Sir George Etheridge, Nathaniel Lee,
and Thomas Soatheme, meet of them prolific
writers, and all of them evincing such gennine
taleut in the midst of their perversity as makes
us regret the bondage to which they had submit-
ted. It is needless to add that they are all more
or less tiunted with that indecency and sensuality
without which they could scarcely have obtained
possession of the stage. But the worst offender
ii) this particular was no other than a woman,
who fnr distanced her male competitors, and
proved herself the very AtalantA in the race of
dmmatic profligacy. This was Mrs. Aphis or
Aphora Behn, whose plays in four volumes no
onewonldnowadventure to read, unless be wished
to be " written down an ass" — and something
worse besides. And yet she was eulogized in
her day as the "divine Astma!* Descending
to the very bathos of the dramatic writers, we
are stopped by the names of Thomas Shndwell,
Elkanah Settle, and Nahum Tate, beyond which
we can go no lower. The memory of these men
wonlil have perished for ever but for Dryden,
who consigned to Tate the execution of the
second p«ut of bia J&to&m and AehitopAtt —

gave Shadwell to nnenviable immortality in his
satire of ■" MocFlocnoe" — and honoured Settle
with a niche in Abtalom and Achitophd, under
the character of Doeg. It speaks little for the
taste of the age, that the last two were not only
for a time set up as rivals to Dryden, but th^
their plays, which expired at last before their
own paternal eyes, were preferred to hia.

But apart from these altogether, and worthy of
separata mention, was Thomas Otwsj, inconteat-
ably the best dramatic writer of the age. Even
his life, of which little is known, is itself a
mournful heart-moving tragedy. He was born
about 1651, at Trottin in Sussex, and was the son
of an English clergyman. He was educated at
Oxford ; but having left the university without
a degree, he come to London, and Iwtook himself
to the precarious life of an actor. A gleam of
good fortune afterwards fell upon him when he
obtained a commission in the army in Flan-
ders; but this did not long continue, for be was
cashiered, and once more thrown loose upon the
world. He then became a dramatic writer; hut
owing either to hb own imprudence, or the
scanty remuneration of the managers of the day,
he was continnally in poverty, and often iu utter
want, alt^ongh several of his plays were very
favouisbty received. At length he is said to have
died in the street, in consequence of voraciously
svrallowing a morsel of bread that choked him,
after one of his long compulsory fasts. Such
was his fate, which bos often been used to " point
a moral." During this short life, which termi-
nated at the age of thirty-four, he wrote a con-
siderable amount of miscellaneous poetry; but
hia chief productions were six tragedies and four
comedies. In looking over the earliest of his
tragic compositions, we are astonished at the
amount of his plagiarisms from Shakspearr, not
only of entire speeches, but almost of whole scene*
. — and still more so at the general ignorance of the
andiencea, who could not detect and condemn
snch literary felonies. This alone may sufficiently
show the general neglect into which the writings
of Shakspeare for the time had fallen. Otway,
however, had evidentiy caught inspiration from
hia model; and in his later productions, espe-
cially the "Orphan* and "Venice Preserved," bo
has exhibited an originality, truthfulness, and
depth of feeling which Shakspeare himself would
have r^arded almost with envy.

In looking over the distinguished literary
names of the age, the mournful conviction strikes
na that never— in England at least — waa iniquity
so strongly supported, and licentiousness so abun-
dantly pampered. A sovereign who waa emi-
nently the king of profligates, was certain to call
forth into the light of day, and the sunshine of
rc^al favour, thoM iworms of " obaeene birdi^'

,v Google

796

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[Social Statel

vhoee uncouth presence would otherwise h&ve
been condemned to everlasting darkneas and ob-
livion. But it h gratifjing to thinlc that thej
were the representatives, not of the natiou at
large, but of its Frenchified king and courtiere,
and that the bulk of the people remained un-
touched by the coutagioD tliat was mainlj con-
fined to Whitehall and ita pnrlieua. If the pre-
sent period wa« also renowned for intellectual
iniquity, it waa still more distinguished by genius
that was consecrated for its highest and holiest
mission, so that the virulence of the bane was
exceeded hy the strength of the antidote. An
account of the eminent theological writers of tiiis
period, whether Episcopalian, PreabTterian, In-
dependent, or sectarian, would of itself require
a lengthened history, and the choice of a few
illustrative examples becomes a work of difB'
culty. From this fertility, especially remarkable
in the Church of England at this its period of
depression and recovery, we are compelled reluc-
tantly to pass unnoticed the writings of such men
as the profound and acute Owen — Barrow, whose
sermons are a complete l>ody of divinity in all
its fulness and roinnteness — and many more
whoee names are still endeared to the religious
world as if they had lived but yesterday, and
whose works are still the sources of general in-
struction as well as the text-books of modem
theologians. Of those few to whom we can but
briefly advert, the fint place is perhaps due to
Jeremy Taylor, Bishop of Down and Connor,

This illustrious ornament of the English church
was bom at Cambridge in 1613. After he had
completed the clerical course of education, as a
sizar, or poor scholar, at Cuius College, be was
Bximitted to holy orders before the age of twenty-
one ; and was soon so distinguished for the remark-
able power and elo^^iicnce of bis discourses, as
well as the graces of his person and elocution, as
to obtain the patronage of Laud, in consequence
of which be became chaplain to the primate, and
subsequently to Charles I. On the breaking out
of the Civil war, his connection by office with
royalty, and bis strenuous efforts as a disputant
and apolt^t In the cause of Episcopacy, ex-
posed him to those manifold hardships with
which the adherents of church and state were
visited, so that at one time he waa a fugitive, and
at another a schoolmaster in Cbermarthenshire.
But if he had at any time sympathized with the
intolerance of his patron, lAud, the wandering
and precarious life which he led for years bad
the effect of pnrifying, instead of hardening his
gentle spirit, as was manifested in the tolerant
•od comprehensive character of his writings, and
especially of his "Discourse on the liberty of
Prophesying; showing the unreasonableness of
prescribing to other men's ftuU),andthe iniquity

of peraecQting differing opinions.* This remu^-
able work, and so seasonable for a time of iotol-
erance, was published in 1647 ; in 16fi0 appeared
his " Bule and Exerdses of Holy Living," aad

jEmtMV TatIjOB. — Pnm ths portrait b^ Lombivt. in hm

in the year following hia "Rule and Exercises of
Holy Dying.* His next important work, which
was published in 1663, was "The Great Exem-
plar; orthe life and Death of the Holy Jesus," a
folio which speedily obtained universal notice and
general approval. This wassiicceeded within two
years by a " Treatise against Transubstantiation ;'
and " Cnum Neixttariiijn ; or the Doctrine and
Practice of Repentance," a work too Arminian
even for his own brethren. Besides these, be
wrote various other tracts, which were collected
and publishe<l in one volume; and a eouree of
sermons for the whole year. After such labourv,
achieved not in tranquil ease and comfort, but a
shifting and precarious life, in which bis tempo-
rary home appears moi-e than once to have been
exchanged for a prison, Jeremy Taylor, like his
brethren, obtuned relief by the Restoration, very
soon after which he published hie elaborate and
remarkable work, entitled " Dudor Dubitantnim;
or, the Rule of Conscience in all her general mea-
sures;' and in the same year (1660) was pro-
moted to the bishopric of Down and -Connor.
Being now in Ireland, whore the Romish chnrcb
had complete popular predominance, Taylor pub-
lished, in 1663, "A Dissuasive from Popery;"
and in consequence of the answers that eppeared
to it, he prepared a second part, which, however,
did not appear till after bis deatii. He died in
1667; and although lie had written so much and
so well, he was only in his fifty-fourth year when
he entered into his rest. His polemical works,
distinguished though they were by learning and

,v Google

HISTORY OF SOCIETY.

797

profound thought, were only suited for the ftge,
and are now aeldom consull«d. But this cannot
be wud of bia practical works, and specially of
hia "Holy Living,' and " Holy Dying," which still
hold, and toog will continue to occupy the fore-
moat place among the religious classics of Eng-
lish litemture. In one word, Jeremy Taylor
stands alone as the Milton of theology.

Another name renowned among the religious
writers of the period, was that of Richard Baxter,
the pride of English Presbyterianism, aa Jeremy
Taylor was of English Episcopacy. Baiter was
bom at Bowton in Shropshire, in 1615; and after
having prosecuted his studies at Wroxeter, he
repaired to London at tlie age ofeightean, toaeek
employment at court. He applied at Whitehall,
and obtained for his patron Sir Henry Herbert,
master of the revels, to whom he was recom-
mended— but in little more than a month he
tnmed his back upon a court life, and hastened
away to hia obscure but peaceful home. Devot-
ing himself to the clerical profession, he became
minister of Kidderminster; and on the outbreak
of the C^vil war, he joiaed the parliAmentarianH,
and became an army chaplain; but his feeble
health obliged him to return to his parish and its
peaceful duties. Here, however, he had a con-
flict to maintain more trying than mere military
campaigning; for his sensitive mind could not
join in the violent measures of his party, against
which he both protested and preached; and his
recommendations of a return to loyalty when
that cause was at the lowest, were so conspicuous,
that after the Restoration he was appointed one
of the king's chaplains in ordinary. But evil
days were now in store for Presbyterianism, and
in these Richard Baxter had an ample share.
Being hindered by the dominant party from re-
turning to Kidderminster, where he was all bnt
worshipped by the people, he preached occasion-
ally in the neighbourhood of London ; but on
the passing of the act against conventicles in
1662, he was deprived of even Uiat limited op-
portunity of doing good, and obliged to betake
himself to retirement, where, however, he could
not escape from persecution, for he was repeat-
edly imprisoned although suffering from sick-
ness, and visited with heavy fines. But in spite
of theae punishments he persisted to the close
of hia lite in preaching wherever he had an op-
portunity; nnd he died in 1691, aged seventy-six
years. Nothing but the most careful and ab-
stemious course of life could have enabled him
to work so incessantly and live so long, for his
constitution had been weak and sickly from child-
hood. The prodnctionsof Baxter from the preas
were so numerous, as to comprise 143 separate
treatises, of which four were folios, and seventy-
three quartos, independently of sermons, prefaces,

and tracts, which he produced in marvellous abun-
dance. And yet, notwiUistoiiding such profu-
sion, all his works were stamped with such supe-
riority, that, according to the high testimony of

RiohudDuteb.— FinmClHoii(luliiiI>r. WUUua' iibarj,

BHrrow,"hiH practical writings wero never raeud-
ed, and his controversial ones seldom refuted."
Similar, too, was the testimony of Br, Johnson,
when BoBwetl inquired of him which of Baxter's '
works he should peruse :— " Read any of them,"
replied the doctor, " they are all good." Their
effect also has been such, that, according to Di*.
Adam Clarke, they " have done more to improve
the understanding and mend the hearts of his
countrymen, than those of any other writer of
his age.' Amidst such a variety of writings,
Baxter's Call to (he Unconverted was so popu-
lar, that 20,000 copies of it were sold in one
year ; it was speedily translated into most of the
languages of Europe, and it still continues to be
a cherished household book in Britain among
every rank and religious denomination.

Another iUnstrious divine, on^'Of the master-
spirits of the age, and whoso writings are still
cherished, was John Howe, the ludependent.
He was born at Loughborough, in 1S30, in which
parish his father was minister, until he was dis-
missed for his Puritanical sentiments by Laud,
his patron, by whom he had been appointed to
the living. After a diligent course of study, both
at Cambridge aud Oxford, John Howe, at an
early age, becsmie minister of Great Torrington,
in Devonshire, and was soon noted as one of the
most eloquent Puritan preachers of the day, in
which character he become known to Oliver
Cromwell, who at a glance saw his worth, and
selected him for his private chaplain, although
he hod only reached the age of twenty-six. Id

»Google

798

HISTORY OF ENGLAND.

[SociAi, State.

this Hitnalioii, Howe's conduct was marked bj
such diBiDtei:«atedness, that the protector at laat
was obliged to sa; to him, " You have obtained
mauy favoura for others; but I wonder when
the time la to come that you will move for any-
thing for yourself, or your family." At the
BcBtoration, Howe returned to his charge at
Torriugton; but, in consequence of the passing
of the act of uniformity, he was one of the
2000 sufferers who preferred the abandonment
of their livingH, to the riolatiou of their con-
sciences. As yet he appears to have published
nothing except two sermons; but, now that the
pulpit was generally closed against him, he had
reeouTse to the press, hy his remarkable volume,
the Bleutdntit of tht Biffklemu, whicli was pub-
lished iu 1666, and welcomed by the religious
portion of the community with cordial admira-
tion. After this, Howe's career was one of uncer-
tainty, not only owing to the restrictions laid upon
Nonconformists, but the attempts in the reign of
James II. to establish Popeiy in England; and,
accordingly, Irelan<1, Loudon, and Utrecht be-
came successively his home, until 1687, when
James's declaration for liberty of conscience en-
abled him to return to his own country. He
heartily sympathized with the bishops in their
stand against the infatuated sovereign; and when
William was seated in Whitehall, it was Howe
who headed the deputation of Dissenting minis-
tei's to the new king, and delivered their cougra-

JaH> Hoira— Fium ■ print bjr R Whita,

tulatory address. Esteemed, honoured, and be-
loved, and with a reputation which continued to
o the close, John Howe died in 1705.
) productions, which he published
at various periods of his changeful life in single
volumes, tracts, and sermons, were afterwards
collect«d by Dr. Edmund Calamy into two folio

volumes, which were published iu 1724. But in
this form they have not been suffered to remain:
the popuUr admiratjon they first excited, with-
out diminishing in intensity, baa been widened
in extent, and in single treatises or collective
volumes, they have been repeatedly published in
our own day — a proof of their still abiding influ-
ence, as veil a superior excellence.

An age so distinguished by the extremes of
Popery and religious unbelief, and so ripe for de-
bate and disputation, not only needed an able
controversialist for the defence of pnre Chris-
tianity as established in England, but was cer-
tain to call one into the field. And such a man
was found in Edward Stillingfleet, Bishop of
Worcester, who was twm at Cranbourue in
Dorsetshire, A. D. 1635. He studied at Cambridge,
where his proficiency was so remarkable, tiiat at
the age of seventeen he obtained the degree of
bachelor of arts, and in the year following was
chosen a fellow of his college. While a tutor, ho
commenced his learned work, entitled Irenietuit,
which was published iu 1609; and such was its
amount of learning and depth of thought, that it
was reckoned a wonderful production, even bv
those who were not aware that its author had
only reached his twenty-fourth year. It was a
defence of Episcopacy; but so moderate were his
views, and so little in accordance with the high-
church extravagance of the period, that it was
decried as an attack upon, rather than a defence
of the cause which it professed to advootte.
Yet, angry though both extremes of the church
were at its calm, dispassionate moderation, "the
argument was managed with so much learning
and skill, that none of either side ever undertook
to answer it."' Two years before the /r«n(«tM
was given to the press, Stillingfleet entered into
holy orders; and while performing the duties
of B faithful and laborious pastor in the diocese
of Lincoln, he wrote Oriffittet Sacra, which was
published in 1662. This was a more important
theme than the Divine right of E]]iBCopaey, for
it was, as its title-page expressed it, "a rational
account of the Christian faith, as to the truth
and Divine authority of the Scriptures, and the
mattera therein contained." A work against
Popery was his next production, which, under
the title Dt " A Viodicntion of Archbishop lAud'a
Conference with Fisher the Jesuit,* was a mas-
terly defence of Protestantism, and a complet«
establishment of the fact that the charge of
schism rests, not upon the Heformation, but the
Church of Bome itself, Stilliugflcet's coune
of ministerial duty was now exclusively con-
fined to London, where he was one of the royal
chaplains, and canon residentiary of St, Paul's.
In 1669, having published a aeri<

,v Google

AJ). 1060—16890

HISTORY OF SOUIETV.

one of which the " Keaaon of ChrUt's SufieriDga
for us" waa the aabject, this ioTolved him in a
coutrovera; with the SocinisiDa ; but thej found
him an unnnswerable antsigouist, and were gltid
to leave him in posseaaion of the field. Passing
from these, he once more directed bis controver-
sial powers agaiuat Popery; and so formidable
were his discouraes and treatises in this depart-
ment, that the Papiata, unable to auawer him
with arguments, bad recourse to menaces, and
even threatened his life. But in spite of peraonal
danger, and the rojal &own of James II., he '
continued the warfare, which he considered to
be R sacred duty, to the close of his career, inter- '
mixed with treatises against the Deista aud So-
ciuiana, and vindications of the political rights
of bishops. But even a mere list of hia numerous j
mid able productions, in which he comtwited with
nil the prevalent forma of religions error, would
greatly exceed our limits. At the Revolution
lie wns raised to the bishopric of Worcester, in
which he died in 1699, worn out, not with years,
but hard study and inceaaant intellectual action.
In alluding to TiUotaou, the contemporary of i
StitliugSeet, we mention a name which is still of
undimiuished lustre in the church of which he
waa the honoured primate. His biography is a '
cumpend of tlie hiatory of the church itself, with
the chief parties of which he waa connected, and
in whoae mutations he had a more than ordinary i
share, John Tillotson was bnrn in 1630; and
being the aon of a very strict Puritan, be was
trained in Puritan principlee, and continued to
study under Presbyterian teachers at college,
ttntll a work of CliiUingworth inclined his views
to the theology of the Anglican church. But
during the protectorate he still adhered to the
Presbyterian plan of church government, and at
the Bestoration preferred to take Episcopal ordi-
nation from Thomas Lydserf, the Scottish Bishop
of Galloway, because he could receive it from
Lira without oaths or subscriptions. Thiaattach-
ment to his old Presbytcrianism, combined with
Lis preference for Episcopal rule in the church —
a pecnlinrity which would have suited the earlier
days of English Puritanism— waa indicated in his
(ifter-career, and during the atages of his clerical
ndvancement, bo that even to the end of hisdays
Ilia favourite aim and wish was a plan of compre-
hension by which church men and dissenters £hou Id
be gatheied into one fold. These leanings made
him suspected by his brethren at the outaet, and
would have ruined his prospects in the church,
hiul it not been for hia remarkable pulpit talents,
which speedily secured for iiim the character of
being the most eloquent preacher of the day,
and, in 1690, gained him the archbishopric of
Cknterbury. Although he died the Primate of
all England, he was able to bequeath nothing to

his family but the lustre of hia name, in addition
to hia own original poverty.

From the majestic periods of Jeremy Taylor,
the metaphysical profundity of Baxter, the glow-
ing Platonisms of Howe, the profoimd learning
and dialectic skill of Stillingfleet, and the ora-
torical eicellence of Tillotson, we pass to one
whose college was a hedge-school, whose whole
attainments were confined to reading and writing,
and whoae chief, if not aole text-book wns an Eng-
lish Bible. And yet, in mere power of genius —
the powerthat widest extends and longest endures
— what man of that learned and intellectual age
has won a higher place than he who is familiarly
and affectionately known as the "Tinker of Bed-
ford!' John Bunyan was born at Elstow, near
Bedford, in 1629. His early career, as well as
his inward religious history, has been fully de-
tailed by himself in hia "Grace abounding to
the Chief of Sinners," one of the most singular
OS well as interesting psychological autobiogra-
phies which has ever yet been written, and which
serves as a oomplet* key to hia Pilgrinit Progrtit.
Ijeading a career of vulgar profligacy, in which,
perhaps, it might hiive been said, that be wm
not worse than others, be was arrested by those
convictions which deprived him of that flattering
unction, and haled him before a different tribunal
thnn that of hia reckleas companions. He became
an altered man; joined in 1665 a Baptist society

John Bvhtih.— Fnnu t dnwmqbj B. 1Ibit< In Ilia

at Bedford ; and carried onward by that feeliug of
superiority which told him that higher dutlea lay
before him than the low pursuits of his mechanical
calling, he became in religion what he otherwise
must have been in vice — the leader and inatructor
of others. But the laws against holding conven-
ticles not only silenced him aa a preacher, but

»Google

800

IIISTOET OF ENGLAND,

[Soc

u Statk,

threw hiin iuto prUoD, wliere he remaiaed twelve
years and a balf, until he was liberated, and re-
HtoKd to the miuiaterial office, in which he died
in 1688. The works of tbU untauf^ht, uupoliahed,
but strong-mioded and original English intellect,
extend to no fewer than aixtj treatiaee, chiefly
practical and allegorical, among which ma; be
enumerated, beeidea those already named, "The
Greatness of the Soul," " The Jenualen Sinner
Saved," "Come and Weloome," "The Strait Gate,"
"A Holy Life the Beauty of Christianity," "The
New Jerusaiem," "The Holy War," ftc.' They
are generally of great merit, overflowing with
rich thoughts, characterized by a faithful exhi-
bition of Divine truth, and written in a remark-
ably clear and simple style, hut are to aome
extent thrown into the shade by the surpassing
popularity of the Ptlgrim't Progrtu. Like Spen-
ser, he followed the bent of bis genius, by imper-
sonating important truths in the likenesses of flesh
and blood, and giving them a local habitation and
field of stirring action; but there the comparison
ends. In the Faene Que^ we see at a glance
that we are in a land of shadows, whose fleeting
forms a puflT of wind may disperse; and as for the
moral which it is meant to conrey, we can neither
guess its nature, nor detect ita development. But
how different the PilgrMa Progreu of Bunyan 1
Although an allegory, it is a truthful story, an
every-day reality, in which the interest goes on
unabated to the cloae; and it is only when the
narrative is ended, that the captivated reader
fulls back with full interest upon ita bidden and
spiritual meaning, which now stands before him
in sunny distinctoeas and beauty. And whence

1 Vnriotu mUIIooi of BusTUi'i <n>A(, inon or laai leDaimle,
but DoiH ot tbnn antinlr UDpleM, use pubUihad betmn
UUDuul irec. Th*ilnlKimplsl«iidil<oBipinndic>ni«iiitl7iu
1U3, ud In It ill Oh tmlin liATt b«n oushiUj wUmtad Witt
Iha flnt or othgr t^i^ton pgbliihsd daring Uh BiRhor'i lifnimi
It tamM tim* Tolajtm lufe iro, jmd li ediCsd bj Ofiorfe Offoi.

had Bunyan that marvellous power as an alle-
gorist, which was denied to sneh a poet as Spen-
ser 1 The reason can easily be found in Bunyan'a
autobiography. We there aee that the Pilgrim
was himself, and the Progress his own path in
life. It was himself who had fled from the City
of Destruction, floundered in the ^ngh ot De-
spond, been allured out of the good way by Ur.
Worldly-Wiseman, and finally had entered the
narrow gate. He bad travelled through the
Valley of the Shadow of Death, wrmtled with
ApoUyoD, befs the c^>tive of Qiant Despair, and
finally reached the banks of the Jordan with a
fnll view ot the glorious dty beyond it He
knew, and he also makes his readers to know,
every step of the way, and every man with whom
be meets, so that we can count the journey by
miles, and describe the charactera by voioe, gut,
and feature. It was no wonder that an allegory
so written ehonld have von such popularity; Hirnk
religious truth so tai^ht should have been so
intelligible to all. Not only tiierefore with every
class, but in every country, the PilgriirCt Progrtu
has been a cherished work, while its acceptance,
instead of being impaired by old age, seems only
to brighten with every successive generation.
What, compared with such celebrity, were the
Sybarite writers of the court of Charles II.,
whose works are now consigned to merited ob-
livion! They and Bunyan have equally had
their reward.

With regard to Ireland, no change had as yet
taken place worthy of particular notice since the
days of Elizabeth, and therefore in the history
of intellectual and social progress, it must un-
fortunately be passed over for the present with-
out further notice. With regard to Scotland,
that country will more fitly re-appear in the suc-
ceeding department of our history as an inotv-
porated portion of the British empire.

END OF VOL. ir.

,v Google

BLACEIE AND BON:

OLABOOW: ,^ -.rft'.jHHMf^'* fc"!'! EDINBURQH:

LONDON: 44, PATERNOSTER ROW", E.G.

Jot oaB|M«i, In M Fart*, hnpulil 4ba, S«, M.euh; or aliguiUr tuUf-bouBd, moroooo, (ilt ■!«», f S, b.

THE IMPERIAL ATLAS

or MODEKH OEGGBAPHYj

Loing tbe moat raoant I)laeoTer!«, uid tlia l>(«at

'uipilad from tha ni(M aathstitia >aarc«, under tiia

Index, oontainiDg UeTerancet to nsirtT 120,000

ilnaiiad uinnn of Innnnutkni, liuiHHH oTiala, uhI " AfUp ■ antal p«tibi1

iH uf vngrfrTJng, uJh Atlu wi" "" "

It li purUbla, BDd

«, bcdlif aa ImparUl ltd, maaaurinf

m Bxt4nd« to BaTcntr-Blgfat i

fNibliabfid nt til* Sklua luw pri«,
inw Id deull, k clsu-tf printed,

OD KaUeii K cb'flrully B>lApt«d lo tL« r«J*tLvfl Import-
DoqntTUH, ■■ TifK'ed flum the ttujd-polDt of Eagllih
,(■ and gfliwnil rvbUn^^ — laiulon JUrieit,

1*9(1 V*i1m, ImpnUl Srn, ii. lU. (Uh,

THE IMPERIAL GAZETTEER;

A GENERAL DICmONAnT OF GEOGRAPHY,

PHTSICAIs FOLTTICAL, STATISTICAL, Md DE8CBIFT1TE; iaoladiug oompralisDUTg AoooanU of th*
Countries Ciliu, Friticipal Town*, TiUigiw, &«■, Lakv, Hirsn, Iilandi, Uonntaina, YallByi, ^s., in tha World.

Edit»d br W. O. Blackii, Ph.D., 7.R.ri.S. lUnitratod by ataxlr 8EV£N HDNDHED AMD FIFTY

ENGRAVINGS, nintad in tbs T«t " ■ ™ '

2G70 pigw, imptrial Sta, olotb, £4, it.

ENGRAVINGS, nintad in tbs T«st, oompruing Viswa, Coatumo, Uapa, Fluu, fto. Two- large Volnine*,

. . All tha [ have tfaoa«hl piactlcable In m
iKart, aibibit a AlkriuruM.
fraatat daana of ooRKtnaii in mlnala datall than n ihaatd | " B/ hr tlia iMtt OaBtCMr in en

Dr. O^itrlfl hu not odIt prndncad tha br.i Rngllih Sic- I -'Ths mart raopnhwulTg work ol tbgkindirt t—l, V*
.... __,^_ v_. __ . -t i Mat* oTSnowladgo | h«T« uaminacl aiiantiralj, and eanicpoit nu«t bDorablj

U 30 Fkrti, impsial Bta, St, td. wch:

THE IMPERIAL DICTIONARY,

ENGLISH, TEOHNOLOGICAL, AND SC lENTIFIC;

On tha Bwdi of Wabatrf'a Eogliab DfstioiiaTj'. witfa tha addition of many Thoniand Wouli and Phmaaa, iaeladisg
tho moat gananllr naed Teohnical and SoieDtillo Tenni, tocrther with tbair Etjinalogf and tbair ProDniuiiaUan.
Alno a BdpfLkMKHT, coDtainlDit an utanaiva oollaotion of Word), Tanna, and Phraiaa, not inolodad in TMriow
Eugliah Diotiaoariaa. B7 J. OaiLVii, LL.D. lllnitntad hj abova 2S00 Engnriuga on Wood.

tin

MTmLtlal, ha> lani

In 18 Parta, Impoial 4te, U. M. Mdi.

THE IMPERIAL FAMILY BIBLE,

Containtng tba OLt> and Nlw TarrtvKfn, aocordinE to tha moat Comet Copiaa of tha Anthoriiad Verafon.
MTith mauv Tlionaud Critical, EipUnaton, and Pnctinal Kotaa; alao, Bafarancea, Utadingi, Chrandogiaal
Tablaa, and Indaxaa. IQortntad bj a Snparb Sariaa of EngiailDgt.

ThsEnftattd niHtiaUaiia. T^tBDnmbn-. HArfitafaeErliB 1 ailMInc Schooli of FaltiUnc on tba CantinaM and In BiHatn.
of HialoTital Bnbjicta. Hlsslad with Diuch (an atid naiiiiiri aiida9ninorV1awiof lni[i«tantBlblaLocalitia^ftiitB*ii(l»-
frDtn Um Voiti or tlM OM Martua, and tmm tlum of tha I tli diawinv; ihi -^rfr TTrfn-iil Inlh-Tm Bnlilinii manair

T-ZZ D,a,,z=„,L,OOQle

BLACKIE AND SON'S PnBLICATIONS :

Coniplata in SO Puti, St. ttih, ftmninf 4 .

THE COMPREHENSIVE HISTORY OF ENGLAND,

CIVIL ftud miLITABy, RELIOIOCS, INTELLECTUAL, and SOCIAL; from ths Barllnt Fariod U

- - ' L'HAnLEB Hacfarcani »Tid thg R«T. Thomas Tbokson, lUoit

a Wood and Staal— Viawi, Cortumea, FDrttaita, Hapa, Pluu, &e^ Ac.

SappitasioD ot tlia Sepoy Barott. By ChaiiLES HacfaRCANI and thg Rar. Thomas Tbokson. lUaatiatad
i_ .v,__ Ei„,n Hnndred En ' ""^ — ■" °'--' "■ "— »— ^:- " — m— .-- --

<-Wa ncanl tbH pnblladan u bf br tb« meat bBiilitBI. | an
cheap, and «a"

_ TACb, a nal Gibtorr of £Df land."— f^i'^'f Arricv OazeOtr

'■Thlioii^tsnipliaticialljtiibaBitiLInl till Family BlMiatj
of England. '—iftfruJV Hfroid.

FnblUhlDC in Paita, nipB'nual Sto, 9(. aaoh.

A COMPREHENSIVE HISTORY OF INDIA,

CIVIL, UILITART, and SOCIAL, From tha fint landing of ths Engliah, to tha inpprai^oa of tha Sepoy
KsTolt, inelnding an Oatlina of tha Early Hiitary of Hindooitan. By Hehrt Beteicdqe, E*q , AdToeale.
Iltnatratad by abova Firs Hundrad EngnTioga on Wood and Staal. It will aitand to 26 Parla.

lie woiUdiiiiplj, forlt riTcauBWithphiloH^bical Britain and Oannanj, all of t

tha aucl«tit, madiar^, and modom hiatofj of I ofumibalL Tb* nnmamu angraTinn on wdad aad

impoHd m«t>phr>ioal tmtina. ' (nuUi to the lotonn and arm to the tnatnctlTe potnr ot tba

• that now baui awaj oTor two | watk. —SiamiMr.

Kaw and rarlagd aditioo, In Paita, It., and DiTtdma, Itl. Meh.

THE POPULAR ENCYCLOPEDIA;

Or, conversations LEXICON.
B^ng a Canaral Diotionary ot Arts, Seieacaa, Litarature, Bio^pliy, Hiitory, aod Politioa; with Prnliminaij
Dlaaartatiotu by diitlnguiahad Writen.

Tb* Popoua EscTcutnmx baa batn belbre tha pnbllo tot maay yean part, and baa mrt wllh a laifa iiiaaaiiiii of aeeeptai^

11h allantiou and oomctloBi mads tor tha pnaent edition render tha WoHc a aaUafictoiy eiponaot ot tb* itata of koowladia la
the preaent daf. The irtlalaa on Botany , ChaniiMr;. and Oaology hare been whoUf ra-wriliau, end tb* idaDtiBe artlela gsHnllj
ban been earerillT rariaed ; and tboaa on Oaography, Topofiapbr. HiatofT. Theology, and Blogra^ bare bein ■abjoetad to a

onUlDlng •ddlHonal bjotraphlca. noUoea oTIoealitiea newly diaemved.
--* 'n eoloBoa and the art*— of the cnaterenta at tb

In Sa Fart*, Si. M. eaob : or S laige Vola, tUO pacae, eaper-royal Sto, oIoUi, £3, ISl

MORTON'S CYCLOPEDIA OF AGRICULTURE,

PKACrriCAL AND SCIENTIFIC:

In whioh tlia Tbaoiy, tha Art, and tha Biuinaaa ot Farming, in all their departmenta, afa thonnffaly »nd pne-
tiaallj traatad. By npwarda of Fifty of the mott Eminent Fannen, Laod-Aganta, and Saientifio Han of tha Uay.
Edited by JoBM 0. Mortox. With above 18U0 lilnatrativa Fignrei on Wood and Kteal.

Hie obiect of tbia Wort la to pneent to tbe Agrienltnial reader tbe whole of Iba troth iBiuedialBl'r scRineotad wllta Ua iiinlh

doo. n bi aa it 1* known to the nieo mort OuDiUar with tb( aniiuusaa it loTolTa*. the matbodi It emplor*. and tb> riaka It Ineaia
"'—-—■■ — in Wood and Steel, of Faim BuUdinga, Inaecta. PlaaU lOnltlTatad and unadtint*!], AgricnJtunt u— hi— . Iiapl*-

THE HISTORY OF THE BIBLE,

From tlia Baginning of tha World to tha Eatafaliahmant of Cbrlitianity ; and a mnnaotion of Profana with Sacnd
HJatory. By tha Rav. TaOHAI STACERonsE, H.A. With copiona additiona from taeant Commentalara, Critiet,
and Ewtarn Trarallan; and Completa Indeiet. Alao, an Appatidli on the Illiutrationaof Scriptoia dariv«d tna
tha Egyptian ud Aaiyrian Uonamanta, ke. Illuitratad by Fifty highly- finiahed Engrariuga.

OLASaOW, EDINBTJEOH, AND LONDON.

»Google

BLACKIE AND SON'S PUBLICATIONS:

is IHrWon^ cloth gUC S>. M. oich.

BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY OF EMINENT SCOTSMEN.

Oriziiwll? Edited bj ROBIVT Cbambibs. Tn Four Volninea. Ke* >iid revised Edition. With* Sapplsmental
ToIdoi*, eODtinniiiK tlii Biocnphica io tbs Fre»at Tiiiia. By tiie Ber, TuolLU Thoksih, Eliutiatett by
y^hty.B« highlj-ADitlied FortniU, uid Five Eugnved Titles,

Is 31 Parti, mpipfliTml Its, £>. eufa.

ITALY:

CLASSICAL, HISTOEICAL, AND PICTURESQUE.

nioitnted in ■ Series of Tiawi, iDErevsd in the inoal flniihed nuumer, trook Dnwine* by SUuflald, R.A.:
BoberU, K.A.; UudiDg. Front, Lutch, Brockedon. Buuerd, £g., &c. With Dewriptiooi of the Seenei, Mid en
£^ on Itel; end the Iteliui, by UaMIU-O HAm, D.D.

'orhl, with oompobdbii dne
tj ajuiuiiitfl I fflBtnTH, uul th« poeticftT uui
d' mt»i IntflTflitiDi iceiiBijlu tha | •pot."— /nivnHU CDiirur,

huEorial

B*-tanu, with ColonrHl PUts In M Puti, royal Sto, li. auk.

A HISTORY OP THE EARTH AND ANIMAQID NATURE.

[b £9 TnU, tnjal Sro, li. <eah.

A HISTORY OF THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM;

IsMFula, la. auh; DiTlaioni^ aloth alitut, ti. etch ; oil Vi>la.,<iIoth, 11, (a.

D'ATJBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION.

'lb* Emenld Edition, SLaftU 8to, in 17 Koe., Frioe Ott. eMh.

In 9) Ptrta, la. aech ; or 1 Vola., alDtb. tl, It.

A HISTORY OF THE PAPACY,

FOLincjiL and Ecoliuabticai^ Id the Slitaeoth and Setantaantb Cantarlae. Bj Lkopold Bahki. Vith Nolee
hy the Tniulfttor, uid an Intiodaolvr; Eu*7 by J. U, Muu l>'ADBiai(i, D.D. lUuitnted bj Titen^ LigUj-
Oniihed Fortnule.

In 11 futa, aopar-iDjil Sn^ t>. til. (Kih ; orl ToL, aloth eitn, tl, 11a. <iL

THE GARDENER'S ASSISTANT.

PbauTiCaL aod SctlNTiriO. A Gaida lo tha Formation and ManaEemant of the Kitehen, Fruit, Mid Flower
Garden, and the Cnltivation of CoDaervator;, Oreeo-LouM, and Hat-bouaa Flanta. Bj RoBiBT ThOhfmin, Super-
intendent of the HortioDltnral Soeiaty'a Oirdan, Chiavick. lUnalTated by Twelve beoatifnUj- coloured Eaftrnvinge,
Mcb lepf entlut two oi mora ehoioe Flowen oi Fmlt^ and nearly Three Htudnd £ii|iaviu|a ea Wood.

GLASGOW, ECINBUBOn, AND LONDOK.

DiaiizKML-iOOgle

BLACKIE AND SON'S PUBLICATIONS:

InS3FBrti,li. euhl or 3 Vok. mpaMOTil Bn), sloth, it, IW.

THE WORKS OF JOHN BUNYAN,

PEACTICAL, ALLEGORICAL. AND MISCELLANEOUS!

SEFARATE ISSUES,
irc Fbacticai. Workb. lUtutrmticnu. In 32 Futi, It. (uh,
D Stmboucal WobKb. Nnmaioiu lUoitntieiii. In 18 PuU, It. auli.

LADIES OF THE REFORMATION. !

MEMOIRS OF DISTINGTTISHED FEMALE CHARACTERS,

Beloueins to tba Period of the HefarmBtion in thaffiilMnth Century. Ey tiia Rev. JaHei AMDIB«oV, AnUiOTof {
J^Um of the Coteitant, &e. Ntuij Two Handrad lUwtntioua, fnnn Urawiugi bf J. Godwiu, O. Thamu,
J. W. AreliBT, E. S.. JohuKin, Sea. |

FIRST SERIES.— Enolahd, Scotuno, tui tbe NKTSERLAllDfl. Small 4to, olatb, Mtiqno, ICt. 6(1. '

SECOND SEBIES.— Gebhaht, Fkamoi, 8«itzeei>ahd, Italy, and Sfiih. SnuJI 4to, olotli, katiqna, lOt. eif.

Cloth, latkie*. Tt. (W.; or 14 Sm., td. luh.

LADIES OF THE COVENANT;

Balni Haiuoin at Dlitingiiiih«d Seottiah Female CboTkctan, embiaoinf tbe period of tbe Corenuit and I
B; the Bar. Jaxcb Ahaibson, Anther of the Martifn rf Iht But, £e. Humerooa Eognvinga.

Ca<BplataiDaeN«.,6i(.aaAi « S Toll., ctoth, (lit, ISt-

THE SHEEPFOLD AND THE COMMON;

Ob, within and WITHOUT.

Htk Woik Itmnflwuid iuiuh'iintffoir«t Edition of tfa« Bran- I lorue to Itt
nUcol JLimUfr. A titli imdsr wbxtb Abon Oiw Hunarod >ii«, in A

Ituuiuid oopiia tf it wen told. Tbe U^hst tftlmrmj «u ] AppwAl.

Goiiipl«t« Id 20 Pajt^ Impfcial Sto, It

THE LIFE OF JESUS CHRIST,

With Ifas LUas of the Ap«tlat and Erangelirii. By tbe Rer. JoSH PLISTWOOD, D D. Alio, the Livca of the
moat Emlnaut Fatlian and Hartyn, and tlie HiBtory of i^initiTe ChiutiAnitj, bj Willtah Cave, D.D. With
an Ehaj on the EridencaAor Ctiritti«nity, and pamaroiu Notet not to be fonnd in aoy other Edition. 1o which
ii nib;o!Dad, A Conoiaa Hittory Of ttta CluiXiui Charch, by the B«t. TboxaB Bikb, U.A. lUtutrated by Fm^
beautiful EngraTinsA.

1 Vd., (Oath, 31*.

THE CHRISTIAN. CYCLOPEDIA;

OR, REPERTORY OF BIBLICAL AND THEOLOGICAL LITERATT7REL

By the KfT. JaHIS QaBDNXB, U.D., A.M. With nnmenmi IllnitrAtionA

r oompAndlmji of wbAt [ ilanAzr, and a omiiaiabeiuiTS dlgvat i..
ihjnu nhlctb An sUbar BiogniifaT ainn«il«d vlth ChriatlAnitT. It n
1. — 1 1.. 1.. .,1,- I .. , ^^ g, ^i^jj ,ji^ ^ ,1,, ,:^^„ ,ad

iDiolTad In. or allied to ClirlallAnltT. It ambniu in iti ^iui I u • WoHi al hlfb taIha

TUb Work W dedgned to be a popnlAr oomp«ndlimi of wbAt [ iionAzr, and a anniovibeiuiTS dlovt of tba IJt«Alt

u_.....^.u ^■-inonalltfioMmbjeotAwhlobAnBliber ' — ■ -

ilCT. It embrADB* in itt pbin

Ublloal and Thntagtcal Sis- 1 Boipttirw.

GLASGOW, EDINBtlRGH, AWD LONDON.

,v Google

BLACKIE AND SON'S PUBLICATIONS:

BIBLES AND COMMENTARIES.

THE IMPERIAL FAMILY BIBLE,

■OR, LI^D. WlUi nujnanu HlHoric^ ud i— J — n- Ulutn-

COOKE'S BROWN'S SELF-INTER-

PRBTINO BIBLS. With iDtrodoBUon. Kuiiul BafmuM,
nod Coplou NoUt, Eipluutoiy tr' " "-' "- "- "—

HAWEIS' EVANGELICAL EXPO-

THE TWOFOLD CONCORDANCE

U> tha Wordi ud aDfajscli at Iha Uolj Blbl* ; Inolodlng ft Con-
cdH DhitioruJT, K Chnmologio&l ArAjifamnit of Lhn SKcred
NamtlTt, ud othR TibliB, diaipMil'to AinUlUU ths Ccnnil-
UUoBmiHtatailjofllu&tendacrlpduH. la Ja No., U. sch.

THE BOOK OF ECCLESIASTES :

D.D. Siiun Bto, ilotta, 7i. td. ' '

ILLUSTRATED POCKET BIBLE;

In :i N<«.. «il. HKb.

BROWN'S DICTIONARY of the

THE BOOK of COMMON PRAYER.

with NotH campiUd trum tha WriUngi of th> mort aniumt
niiutntad by ^ baantiftiL EngHftVilia, incloil-
■ fUr tfaa OOcaa. by H. C. Buods. Tit RiJ.ria
16 KOL, M. auh ; ud In nw., auibl« ISi.

In iU. Scvnlg aepanta Fl

Ulnltntliig Ilia prindinl Scrlptua BoaMi, ud Bilm of Cala-
bntad CiUaa, Tovu, ^. Tha wtK4* «apMs 1b mPuU,!!.
aiBh; «r in fidiMbdaToU.| Oi. akoh, audi M4«. 0d.

BARNES' QUESTIONS ON THE

NEW TESTAMENT. For BlUa duaat ud BondaT Sahoali. In
1-Tol. (HnTHEur to Hrauws), cloth, 51. Sit ; or a Parta, W. «Mh,

01.1 Isuis, 3Vola..T

; Dariel, 1 Vol, Si. M.

STANDARD RELIGIOUS WORKS.

BAXTER'S SELECT PRACTICAL

WORKB, Inolnding hit Tnatlaaa on Conrankm, Th* DlTin*
LIfa, VjiBg TlKn^ta, ud Salnla' EiarUatlng Rcat. and ■ Ua-

■niTDtUiaAathar. In M Hoa., iBpar.nijral 8<(0, «il. aaoh.

FAMILY WORSHIP: A Series of

Pnjaia, with Dostibulud FnaUml Rioartia « V^mt^al

*— -^° — '"* — ' "17 Uoxnhir and EvaDlns thiaufhoutUia

PROTESTANT:

M'GAVIN'S

r m 3t Nk.'M. aub.

DWIGHT'

GT : or. CacnpLMa Bi

THEOPNEUSTIA; Tha Bible, it3

Dirlne Ortgln ud Bnllra laaplnUon, dadooad ftom Intarnil
Krklsnn, uM Iha TiMiinoiilia oT Katun, HJafaWT, utd SiiHHa.
Bjr L. Oaehdi, D.D., OuaiL Clutb, Si.

PSALMS of DAVID: Scottish Met-

ileal VanuoD. To 1
Imparial 4tw, it. Od. ;
41o,Xi,i ISm^til.

CONTEMPLATIONS on the His-
torical PASSAOES of tba OLD ud NEW xraTAKENT.
Br tha Right RaT.JoaVHHui, D.D. Hiuuannu Flslaa. In

PROFESSION AND PRACTICE;

Or, ThoDEhta on tha Low State of Vital Ralighni uaong F»-
fiiiliill rnilalliiii. BiO.X-CauMM, ClotG, li. e<l.

An EXPOSITION of the CONFES- '

BION of FAITH of Iha WRSTMUf^TBR ASSENBLT at
D1VIKB8. Bt RoBEBt Sbaw, D.D., Whitburn. Eichtli &di-
tleu. Cloth, JL M.

SCOTS WORTHIES; their Lives

ud TanHoniia. With ■
tntlona. Ill li Fatta, lup

THE CHRISTIAN'S DAILY COM-

FANIOK : A Barita of Hadltationa ud Shoit Pnctical Com-
■nanta on tha oioat Iinp<>rt4Ut Dmtxinat and Pnoapti of th*
Balj Scriptnna, aitufad for Dailr Raadlnf thRn«boat ths
ymz. With Twantr-ODe hlghi^-Aulahad Ibi(iaTinfa. SO Parta,
ai^ai-tDTat Bto, 11 acfa ; dolh, £1, It.

WATSON'S BODY of PRACTICAL

DIVINITT, In a Bujaarf Sannona on tha Bbortar Catashlnn of

Jaata. Tba wbolaRflTlaad 'and ComelHl, with namanniaNolw
In 39 H<ia,, inpar-roTal Bro, «d. oaeh.

WILLISON'S PRACTICAL WORKS.

with u Baaaf on bla Ufa and TlDaa. Br tba lUr. Dr. UxiB-
mmnoa, S» Farla, anpnojy an, Ij. aooh.

UpnrdtofOnaH

OLA8QOW, EDINBURGH, AKD LONDON.

■vGuu^Il

BLACKIE AND SON'S PUBUCATIONS:

HISTORY, BIOGRAPHY, &c.

MEMOIRS of NAPOLEON BONA-

PARTE. Bj M. Di Bodkuenhc Kiinwnui Hlmtoilul aod
Poitnit Ultutntioiu, SI twt,, li. taoh ; or -i to]&, £1, U.

It IBM. la vdK, toODd In oloth, ti.t^

SMITH'S CANADA; PiST, Phesest,

II BittoricftI, 0««Tmphioii1. GwkvEcaZf
or CuumU Wmt. UnpB.uuliithatllliu-

AIRMAN'S HISTORY of SCOT-

LAND, from tlis EirllMt Pniod to tlu piwDt Tims. A New
Edition With NiiiiTi li-LcarRaTioKS. oompriiliiB FoitnlU,
Vlewi, and Hiatuiul IMgu. Id £3 FuU, Ij. ocli.

THE ISRAEL of the ALPS. A Com-

plaW HlaloiT of U» Vsndoli of PMoicint ud tlu^ CnlcuigL
Pnpind ia grett put bum imniibllih«d Ducumuiti. B;
A'Fin HuBTDH, D.p. ll]uitimt«dbT>S«i»ofiji«lGagnT-
Ingi. IDIOIFUU, If. auh; oiSVoli. 8rD, doLli,l!)i.

THE WORKS of FLATIUS JOSE-

PHUS. With Mips ind irthiT lUiutnllmu. Dsmjr Bro, !2|
Put^ If. Keh ; at 1 Vola., doUi, Hi.

inlufid Skslcb Uspi

Oounl^, «nd by Tariooi

ROLLINS ANCIENT HISTORY;

with EiImilTi Noto. Osognpliiisl, TonccnpUal. Hirtwioat,
uuKMlial.udaLiFaoftbBAiithur. ByjAUBUxu. Kom-
uouB lUu^mtimu. La 34 Fvt«, nodiiua ira, Ii. «uih.

ROLLIN'S ARTS and SCIENCES of

thsANCIENTB. WIIfaNatnb; JiLMnBELLffomiinaathtid
VolniDato Aaliiait[UiUi>7j. la 10 rutt, U. meb.

BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY of

EMINENT SCOTOUBN. In Foci vmunw. Hn EdiUK.
WiLh ft BopplttflOnlal VDlam«. oi>ntibmiif th«BknM>hi'Bk>Ui«
FnwitTrme. Dj tha Rut, Thih. Tuoiuo:!. WUhsiPcnnlu,
and i EugriTed Htltt. la te Puta, "«■<■■■— Sm, li. Moh i
or DlTitioiH, doth gilt, Af. Od. odoh.

WORKS ON AGRICULTURE.

CYCLOPEDIA of AGRICULTURE.

PnutlDkl and BgiaiUBa. B; npinidi of FiftT of ths mart
EmtDont Faimsn, Land-AgaiU, and Sdentiflo Uan ol tit dar.
Bdilad by Johh C. Ifonox. With aboni ISM lUiutnclTS
Plfn»oiiWoodaDdat«L Id 38 Farla,Zi.acl.>asfa: or^ta^
VoL., npar-nf al aro, aloUi, £3, lU.

NEW FARMER'S ALMANAC.

Edit«l b; JoBK C. MoBTOM, Editor of Um .f^riniNiinil Ooirllt,
CftltftiiaiifAfrlaiil*n,^t. PubUdml TM1I7. Fitatli.

OUR FARM CROPS ; Being a popu-
lar BeltDlllh! Dcaoiiptlon of Iba Cnltlratioa, Chnmiatir, Dii-
•an*, and Ramidia, lus.. of oat dlBamt Cnp*^ wdHihI ap ia
tba high Parmini of tha pmant day. B; John Wilkih,
P.R B.E.. Profflr of Asricoltuni In ths UnlianitT of Kdin-
bunh, Hambs of CoDodl of Iha Rojal Agt
EngWul. Iio., die. Illuatiatad with EnjnT
tVola., crown 810, doth. I*!.; oil "

PliUa. Id 1^ FaiU, 2i. Oil. tadi, o

THE GARDENER'S ASSISTANT,

Fractloal and SdautUlis. A Onide to tba FtumatloD and If auaga-

_..... u..,u,,_ Frnlt, and PiDwar Oanlan, aodttaaCultl-

Deat of COnaarratoTj, Grefln^iuMue, 1

d carvfuilj Coloiuvl

HOW to CHOOSE s Good MILK COW.

B;r J. H. Haoiii. With a 8applaD«it on tlia DalirCattla of
Britain. Uliutiatad with EnaratlQCi. doth, Si.

FARM INSECTS. Being the Natural

HiirloiT and Eooiomr of the loHEta lujniioni to Um FlaldCn^
la Gnat Britain and Inland, aiid alao thoao wbidi tnfait Bam
and annari<a,with>iin*mioii>lbrtheiidartnutlaB. BrJom
CCRTia, F.L.S.. Jw, 4ta. IlliuuatadwilhnuinrliTindnidngim,
Plain and Colourad. Id « Fana, npar-nqral Hoo, «i U. aa^

FARMER'S GUIDa A Treatise o

AGRICULTURIST'S CALCULATOR

..^ -nd CaUlTV Kiaaiii^

msni, Duumnj, «u]. 11 fica., foolioap Sro, Aif . cadi ; bound, Pa.

THE HAY imd CATTLE MEA-

BURER. ABsria of Tabin ftH-Computillg the Weight of Ha;-
■tadii and Liva buuk by Meaauramaut Alao, TaUn ihiiaiiic
tha Bqntialant, in Weight and Prin, of tha lupartal to tba
Dulcli Btoua, and oUui l^xal WMflila. Foolaiap ero, skitb,
9i. Cd.

DITCHING and DRAINING: A

Uaonal of Tablea far Computlug Work doDa. Buitad to tba
oae of CoDtncton and Bmplaran of Labour, Fciolaia(i Sro,

alotU, t>.

AGRICULTURIST'S ASSISTANT:

A Nota-Bonk at Prlndplia, Rnlea, and T^blt^ adajitid to tba
Ma of all aiwifed In Arrioultoia, or the Hanagvaan^ ~" — ^^^
Propartr. Bi JoHH Kwabt, LAod-Surreya —' '
Bogiatm. Platai and Cnta, Foolaoap Sro, i

QLASOOW, EDINBUBeH, AND LONDOH.

M Google

BLAOKIE AND SON'S PUBLICATIONS:

ILLUSTRATED HIBTORT OP THE

THE ISRAEL OF THE ALPS.

A Complsla Hiatoiy of th« Vtodois of Pieclmont ksrl their Colooias. Prgurad in BrB»t p»rt from onpabli»h«d
Doonments. B7 Alkxch Musroy, D.D. Illoalrated b; * Sarin of Steal EngrKings, oompriaing ScBnery in ths
Tsllaji, ]iUp», uid HLitoiioil Ulaitnttioiu, prepusd bj or aoder tha (aparintandauco of lh« Anthor, U. UUSTOM.

WORKS ON MACHINERY. CARPENTRY, &c.

ENGINEER and MACHINIST'S

DRAWISO-BOOK : A Complstg Conne of lonniclidii ftir tha
PnAtioBl En^nMt: Domprildiia Lln«u- Drmidn^^ PrajHtlon*,
Booflntiio Currn, Uw varoui jbniu of OcAriijjc, ttoolpmAtiof
ttaohinenr, Bkotehlng uid DrAwltig from th^ HVcbinft, PrajaO'
IMo or Sludom, TinUog ud Ctdoniing, and Panpeetiva, m
~ worlu of II. La Blanc and MX. Aimangand.
._ .^ -iiiiMTWv EufTtTinfi oa Wood and StaaL Id
la, imparial Ito. Si. aaoh ; or 1 Vol. half-morocco, £2, 2i.

ENGINEER and MACHINIST'S

ASSIffTAlT: Baltic ■ ))arioi of Plana, BastioH, and Slimtioiu
of Stoun EBfinia. Watar WliHli, Bpiimliic Uactdiiai, llUlt lOr
OrlDdin(. Tooli, te., takm from kaidJns of apjnnved Can-
•tnitlou : nick daCallad D»:ri|>tlDni and PracUnl Eaa^ m
Taiiona daparlmwila of Maohinoxj. Naw and TTuproTM &ii-
tlon. In K Paite, Imparial Ua, li, U, Hitai or I Vol*, half-

RAILWAT MACHINERY. ATrea-

tiH on tha Machuilcal EhglnaarlaH of RaU*aja ; ambracinK tha
Prindpla and ConitnictliK ot RalUog ud Find Plant, lu all
dapartmanta. lUntratad bj ■ Barlaa of Flataa on a lai^ h^b,
auitbjnuniDninaFjigniiiliffMWciDd. Bf D. KlHNEAB CUBK,
£ngiiiaar. In 30 Fatta, Impaitel Its, It. U. tach ; i Vola. half-

KAILWAY LOCOMOTIVES. Their

PnCT^. Mechuloai Conitmotlon. ud Feifonnaaoa. iritb tba
racanl Pmtlsa In Englud and America. Illiutntvl br an
aiUHlTa Horiaa of Piatea, and namaraai EngiaTlujti on Wood.
B/ D. KlNKEUl Cuu, l^nsingnr. In 2J Paita, jmniial Ito,
it. IM. »cli; ! VdLb., haUmomooo, tt.

RECENT PRACTICE in the LOCO-

IIOTITREXOIXEIbsuwaBupplaiiianttDXiiifiMrJfWtiitAT)-,
ComiirUnK the man Raosnt ImproamenU In Eu^iih PncUcs,
LosomatlTe Practica of the tlnitod

LAND - MEASURER'S READY-

BGCKOKEItj ^iniTahlta tar avgartaiBini at al|]it tba Con-

lantaofanj-Flaldoi

, Third adItfoB. BoaDdln

THE PRACTICAL MEASURER;

Or.TrideamuiandWood-UarEliut'iAiHMuit. B/Auuimn
Peddie, New EdJtlDB, pvMj anlarpd. In IX Koa.. W. vidii

CARPENTER and JOINER'S

ASSISTANT. BilngaCamprahen^caTreatiMonthaSalaoUon.
Piaparalion, and SUangth of Uatariali, and tha HaehaDlcal
PilDGiplaa of Pramlni, wltb Uwir Al^calioDB In Carpaotrr,
Jolngij, and Hud Hailing; alas, a Oonne ot InatnctioB la
Prastlial Oaomatrr, Oaomatrlcal Llnea, Onwiiu. PnJocUca,
and Penpecd'a. ud u lUoMislad OI1HW7 of Tnma wad In
AnAliactnre and Building. ^ Jaitn Newi,u(ii^ BnoDfta
Enginaar of LlTeipool.^Uutnitel bf an aitmal** BarjM of
Platca, ud mujr hundrait BiwraTtngi on Vood. In 34 Parl^
■upar-io^ 4to, Ij. each; orl Vol., Ualf-moKniw, £:!, ISi.

CABINET-MAKER'S ASSISTANT.

A BwlH of Ortetnid Dalgne fOr Hodam FonitDre, with D»
BerlptkHia and detaila of '*-- " ^-- ... - — ». .

Imparlal tto, St, M. aaot

K^D«

_ __ Flau, Blaratlona, Seotioni, and DMalla Wltti Pnc-
DaicTjptioiu. Bt Job" Wbiti. Airddlact. In SI Farta,
impetlaltto, 2i. luh; iV6L half-moKnui^ CS, 10>.

MECHANIC'S CALCULATOR;

ComprahtodlBi Prlmripli^ Rnlea, and Tablaa, tn tba Tarlsai
Daputnanla of Hathamatls and llaohanlca, Mi&ataenth Edi-
tion. CloUh if. Oil.

MECHANIC'S DICTIONARY. A

Nota-Book of Technical Tnini, Rnls, ud Tabtaa, oiaflil In tba
Mechanieal Ai^ With EufiraTlnB nf Nacblnaty. and naarir
3M Dtagnmi on Wood. TlurtMinth Edition. Cloth, Di.

Tha CucuuTon and DicnonuT are pnhUabed In 37 Noa.,
•d. eacb.

REID'S CLOCK and WATCH-

If ARINa TheCRtkal and PnoUcal. UlnMratad vitti Tweatr
FoldlDf PIntcn, and Vlgnetla Title. Is 10 Far^ njal tro, St.

ORNAMENTAL DESIGN: A Series

of — — f^ of Epptlan, tliinjeii. Bsmu, Italian, Oothl^
Mooridi, Francb. Flewah, and KlUabatban OraaoHata, t«lt~
able (« Art-irariUMn and Deeonton, With u Eaear ••>

Oraamantal Art, aaappUcahla to Trade—' " *— ' "■

ItM. BilAaNTTIK, Anthor nl a TralUt
As, Foitj Plata, Imporial 4to, aloUi, J

GLASGOW, EDINBURGH, AND LONDON.

BLACKIE AND SON'S PPBLICATIONS:

POETRY AND LIGHT LITERATURE.

.wmpWfl

CASQ0ET of LITERARY GEMS; ContMning

npWHili of 700 EiUiieti Id ToeOj idA PnH. Fmn Harlj M»

DutiDgniilwd Auttaon. lUutntsd by 1na%j-&Te Eiiitxtuicil
III t Vol*,, clotb eitn, (Ut •ilgn. 11.

BOOK of SCOTTISH 80NO. A CoIlortiMi

ofUHBanud Mem AppioTed Songs of gcDtlud.vithCritiial
--d Klniricxl NotiiH, uid u E^ - " -— - -- - "-
■ - ■■ ■ ■ ■-iU*. IS Ua

(HTsd FnutliplKa uid Titl*.

., M. Moh ; doih, (U*

BOOK of SCOTTISH BALLADS. A Com-

Iinh«^>aCr>Uart<ooDfUuiB>lUd»u<.»»tl>nd,«ith lUutn-
llTs Nnta^ uhI EngnTed FnutiqilMa and tUla. IS Koi., Oil.
■Ota i oloth, (ilt ■!]((■, 8(.

NICOLL'8 POEMS rad LYRICS, chiefly in

UiB 8conU) Dlk^aat.. With ■ Munoli d Uu AnUwi. Niv

Edition, anult In, elatmut, St, M.

THE WORKS of ROBERT BUHKS. Com-

pl«U lUnnimUd Bditkn, Utanir ud IVtulU. With Wn,
BDm li^iT "OQtlM0««iBudCluneUroIBiuu,-u)d Dr.
Cv'KUi'b ICnoil of (ho Foul, ud U ' — J— p j ' ~
IllDiUitlais £S PuM, nnn-nnKl Std, Ii. aadi.

Or with Elsbt Bdfp

irmTfngB I mwuf In m

M I^aduH uid Pmnit

J VolL, oloUi utn,

LAND of BURNS ; A Series of lAndsapea,

Iil(Ubxtl*e of th« Wriliip tf the BoiBidi PoM. from fUntlDfi
br Q. O. Biu, RS A. Aln. I^r(nJtoiifUMFDBt.Uaftiindi,
Ac. WithDig«rl|jtlaiuaiidllliigTiph!a,tiyBoBijrrCi<<inKn:
ud Ehv t? PniftwiT WiuuH. a Vola., ito, cloth, file odgH,

REPUBLIC of LETTEHS. A Selection in

Festrr ud Phh, ftom ths Voiiu of tha nmB EDdnmt Wrlts^
wiUi HUB}' Ocifiiml Pi<n>. Twentj-llTa bHuUflU lUaRmliDiB.
4 VoU., cloth aitn, fUt tdgm, tl.

■uasdeonB. 1
ion. Cloth, gL

MISCELLANEOUS.

CYCLOPEDIA of DOMESTIC MEDICINE

ud SUROERT, Bj TMo. Ahduw. H,D. lUiutnUd irtth
Encnvlnitaa Woodud BtaaL 17 futi, mjtl Std, U. msb;

BARKS BCEIPTUBE STUDENTS AS-

aiBTANT. A Conidiit* Indn ud CondH DtctioBUT ta th*
BibI*. Nov EdMlon, Eaiaifai. with PtuniuHibtlni of Pnpn
Num. ChKBiDlaclial Airnvmaiit of tha Bo^itani, 4«. Pan

BARK'S CATECHETICAL INSTRUC-

noNSfcrrouNo ~ ^

Yuiiu Panoiu nut '
•nfedltil.

BARR'S CATECHETICAL INSTRUC-

TlO.ia on INFANT BAPTIBH, With u Addt^ to Tonne
Piuwila. lACbKdition, ISmo, amid, td.

COMMERCIAL HAND-BOOK : A Complete

Rndi-SKkoDir, Hid Comjndlnin ot Tablet ud Informatioa
Ibr tb« Tndsr, MarchBot, and Cnamaisial TniT«Uaf. 31B pp.

TYTLER'S ELEMENTS of GENERAL

niSTORT, AnalaDt and Madam. With tmniiitanblc addltimi

1, LL.D. Suund. Si

HARTLEY'S ORATORICAL CLASS-

BOOK. With tha rrtndpln of Bloinitko SimpLifl^ and lliw.
tEAt«d hj Boitabls aiarapla. Fiftaonth EditioD, inapnrrsd.
Foalacap mo. bouDd, S(. U.

CHORISTER'S TEXT-BOOK ; CMtaining

naarlj Tin> Hnndrad Fialm and Hrnn TiuHa, Chania, AnUama.
Ac. arraji^ for btnnTwo toFI^Foieaa. witfiOT]|an orPiuiO'
ft>Tta Aoocmipuiimanta ; pracadad by a ComprvbouiTa Grammar
lit Muaia Bt W. J. P. kiDD. finner-rojal 8ira, atlff naDor, &i.:

doth, (ill, «.: '^^'

HAND PLACE-BOOK of the UNITED

KINODOH; Ctataiolnc Balbm»aa of dallj saa to npmidiof
t5,no<l LooUitM in Qnat Rriuhi and InUnd, and OoianJ

0, anlarvad. Bound, ^j

MOFFAT: Ita Walks and Wklia With

Hiddanlal Nntioia of lla Bslnnj and Otnlnfj, Bt WtLUtH

KEDaii; ud RaportoD. ud ChEmieal Aitaljili cf , iti Itinaial
Walla, b^ J. XICUIIU, F.B.S.B-A. Fonla^ Sro, U.

COMSTOCK'S NATURAL PHILO-

aOPar : Edllad ud iHialT ancBHnted br R D HoiLHi,
KA. Axon, A Uanul of Nalanl FUlcBplij ; in whkfa an
papularlj eaplainad tha ArineiplBa of Halt, ilaefaaiika, H jdn^
■tatioa, Hjdraullo^ hbauaatio, tha Btcam Gnftina. AAHntts,
(^Mba, AitTDiHtiif , Blaotridtr. HaanaUnn, be. ; with Qnaacou
for EKaminAlloti on eaah Cfaanlar, and an Appandii of Pro-
bintia. lilnatratad bj Daailr Thna Qundred EnciaTluc* ob
Wood. Foolaekp 8to, oloth, &k.

M'CRIE'S SKETCHES of SCOTTISH

CBVRCB HISTORY: Bmbradiig tha Period bom thaBalbr-
.._ ...1.. D i_.i_ .. v,^_ jgmj jj,„_ jj„[|^ J,

GLASGOW, EDINBURGH, AND LONDON.

Dintizooov Google,!

»Google

»Google

»Google

»Google