m
r 1
THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
RIVERSIDE
Ex Libris
ISAAC FOOT
HISTORY
CHARLES THE FIRST
ENGLISH REYOLUTIOK
HISTORY
OF
CHARLES THE FIRST
ENGLISH EEVOLUTION,
FROM THE ACCESSION OP CHARLES THE FIRST
TO HIS EXECUTION.
*^ By M/i<GUIZOT,
TRANSLATED BY ANDEEW R. SCOBLE.
NEW EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
^ublisl)fr ill ©rtrinarj) to l^cr JKlnfcstp.
1854.
rniNTFD RY W. CT.OIVr.S ANI> SONS, STAIMFOKO STUI.F.T
AN1> CIIARINC CHOSS.
ADVERTISEMENT
NEW EDlTIOxX.
TnE history of the English Revolution, its origin and
consequences, extends over a period of sixty-three
years, — from the accession of Charles I., in 1625, to
the fall of James II., in 1688 ; and is naturally
divided, by the great events which it includes, into
four periods. The first of these comprehends the
reign of Charles L, his conflict with the Long Parlia-
ment, his defeat and death ; the second contains the
history of the Commonwealth, under the Long
Parliament and Cromwell ; the third is marked by
the Restoration of the Monarchy, after the brief
Protectorate of Richard Cromwell ; and the fourth
comprises the reign of Charles II. and James II., and
the final fall of the royal race of Stuart.
Each of these four periods will form the subject of
a special Work by M. Guizot. The first of these is
now republished ; the second has also appeared ; and
VI ADVERTISEMENT.
the other two arc in progress. Together, the four
works will constitute a complete picture of the most
important epoch in our history.
The present edition has been carefully revised and
corrected by its illustrious author, who has also made
some important additions to the Appendix. With
regard to the translation, the references have, for the
first time, been carefully verified ; and the quotations
are given, in every instance, from the original autho-
rities. This may, therefore, be fairly stated to be the
only correct, complete, and authorized English edition
of a work which an eminent writer in the Edinburgh
Review has characterized as " The best history, both
in thought and composition, of the times of Charl^is
the First."
Andrew R. Scoble.
Lincoln's Inn,
June, 1854.
PREFACE.
Some years since, I published a collection of original
Memoirs relating to the English Revolution : I now
publish its history. Until the occurrence of the
French Revolution, it was the greatest event in the
annals of modern Europe.
I have no fear that its importance will be under-
rated : the French Revolution exceeded it in magni-
tude, but did not lessen its intrinsic greatness ; both
victories were won in the same war, and tended to
the furtherance of the same cause ; and instead of
eclipsing each other, they become magnified by com-
parison. I am more fearful that mistakes may be
made as to their true character, and that their proper
place will not be assigned to them, in the world's
history.
If we are to put faith in an opinion which is very
prevalent at the present day, it would seem that these
two Revolutions were extraordinary events, which
Vlll PREFACE.
emanated from unheard-of principles, and aimed at
unprecedented designs ; which forced society out of its
ancient and natural course ; which, like whirlwinds or
earthquakes, were mysterious phenomena guided by
laws unknown to men, and bursting forth suddenly,
like providential coups d'etat, possibly to destroy, and
possibly to revivify the earth. Both friends and
enemies, panegyrists and detractors, employ the same
language on this point : according to the former, these
glorious crises brought truth, liberty, and justice to
light, for the first time ; before their occurrence,
absurdity, iniquity, and tyranny prevailed, and the
human race is indebted to them alone for its deliver-
ance from those evils ; according to the latter, these
deplorable catastrophes interrupted a long era of
wisdom, virtue, and hai)piness ; their authors pro-
claimed principles, set up pretensions, and committed
crimes previously unparalleled ; the two nations, in a
fit of madness, deviated from their accustomed path,
and an abyss opened immediately beneath their
feet.
Thus, whether they are extolled or deplored,
blessed or execrated, all agree in forgetting every
other consideration in presence of these revolutions,
in isolating them completely from the past, in ren-
dering them responsible for the destiny of the world,
and ill loading them alone with curses or with
glory.
PREFACE. IX
It is time to have done with such puerile and false
declamations.
Far from having broken off the natural course of
events in Europe, neither the English nor the French
Revolution asserted, attempted, or effected anything
which had not been already asserted, attempted, or
effected a hundred times before their occurrence.
They proclaimed the illegitimacy of absolute power :
but free consent to laws and taxes, and the right of
armed resistance, were among the constituent prin-
ciples of the feudal system ; and the Church had
often repeated these words of St. Isidore, to be found
in the canons of the fourth Council of Toledo : " He is
king who rules his people justly ; if he does other-
wise, he shall be no longer king." They attacked
privilege, and laboured to introduce more equality into
the social system : but, throughout all Europe, kings
have done the same ; and to our own day, the pro-
gress of civil equality has been based on the laws,
and measured by the progress of royalty. They
demanded that public employments should be thrown
open to all citizens, and be bestowed on merit alone,
and that the government should consent to this com-
petition ; but this is the fundamental principle of the
internal constitution of the Church ; and the Church
has not only carried it into effect, but has openly
professed it. Whether we consider the general
doctrines of the two revolutions, or the applications
X PREFACE.
which they made of them — whether we contemplate
the government of the State or civil legislation,
property or persons, libertj" or power — we shall find
nothing of their own invention, nothing which is not
to be met with, and which did not at least originate,
in more regular times.
Nor is this all : the principles, designs, and efforts
which are exclusively attributed to the French and
English Revolutions, not only preceded them by
several centuries, but are the same principles and
efforts to which society in Europe is indebted for all
its progress. Was it by its disorders and privileges,
by its brute force, and its subjugation of other men
beneath its yoke, that the feudal aristocracy con-
tributed to the development of nations ? No : but it
struggled against royal tyranny ; it availed itself of
the right of resistance, and maintained the maxims
of liberty. And why have nations blessed their
kings? For their pretensions to divine right, their
assumptions of absolute power, their lavish ex-
penditure, or their luxurious courts ? No : but
kings attacked the feudal system and aristocratic
privilege ; they introduced unity into legislation and
into the administration of affairs ; they promoted the
development of equality. And whence have the
clergy derived their strength ? In what way have
they helped forward civilization ? By separating
themselves from the people, by affecting to dread
PREFACE. XI
human reason, and by sanctioning tyranny in the
name of Heaven ? No : but by assembling the great
and the little, the rich and the poor, the strong and
the weak, beneath the roof of the same church, and
under the same law of God ; by honouring and
cultivating learning, instituting schools, favouring the
diffusion of knowledge, and rewarding activity of
mind. Consult the history of the masters of the
world; analyze the influence of the various classes
that have determined its fate ; wherever any good
is manifest, whenever the continued gratitude of
mankind bears witness to a service rendered to
humanity — a step has been taken towards the object
aimed at by the French and English Revolutions ; we
are in presence of one of the principles which they
endeavoured to render victorious.
Let us then cease to portray these revolutions as
monstrous apparitions in the history of Europe ; let
us hear no more of their unprecedented pretensions
and infernal inventions ; they helped civilization to
advance along the road which it has been pursuing
for fourteen centuries ; they professed the maxims,
and pushed forward the labours to which man has, in
all ages, been indebted for the development of his
nature and the improvement of his condition ; they
did that which has in turn constituted the chief merit
and glory of clergy, noliles, and kings.
I do not think men can long persist in condemning
Xll PREFACE.
them absolutely, because they are laden with errors,
calamities, and crimes : in this particular, we must
make every concession to their adversaries, and even
surpass them in severity, looking at their accusations
only to supply their omissions, and then requiring
them, in their turn, to prepare a list of the errors,
crimes, and evils of those times and governments
which they have taken under their patronage. I
doubt whether they would accept the challenge.
If it be asked in what respect these two revolutions
are distinguished from every other epoch : what is the
reason that, while they merely continued the common
work of all ages, they deserved their name, and
positively changed the face of the world ? This is my
answer —
Various powers have successively held swaj^ in
European society, and marched in turn at the head of
civilization. After the fall of the Roman Empire and
the invasion of the barbarians, amidst the dissolution
of all social ties and the destruction of all recognized
powers, the predominance everywhere fell to daring
and brutal force ; the conquering aristocracy took pos-
session of everything, persons and lands, people and
country. In vain did a few great men, Charlemagne
in France, and Alfred in England, endeavour to
reduce this chaos to the unity of a monarchical
system. All unity was impossible. The feudal
hierarchy was the only form which society would
PREFACE. Xlll
consent to accept. This hierarchy prevailed uni-
versally, in the Church as well as in the State ; the
bishops and abbots became barons; the king was
the chief seigneur. In spite of the rude and unstable
character of this organization, Europe was indebted
to it for its first steps out of l)arl3arism. It was
among the proprietors of fiefs — in their mutual
relations, laws, customs, feelings, and ideas — that
European civilization commenced.
The fief-holders were a great burden on the people.
The clergy alone endeavoured to claim for all a little
reason, justice, and humanity. Those who had no
place in the feudal hierarchy could find no asylum but
the churches, and no protectors but the priests. This
protection, though insufficient, was nevertheless an
immense boon, for it was the only one. The priests,
moreover, alone offered any sustenance for the moral
nature of man, for that unconquerable necessity of
thinking, knowing, hoping, and believing, which
overcomes all obstacles, and survives all misfortunes.
The Church soon acquired prodigious power througli-
out all Europe. Royalt}'^, then in its infancy, lent
it fresh strength by borrowing its assistance. The
predominance passed from the hands of the conquering
aristocracy into those of the clergy.
With the assistance of the Church, and by its own
inherent strength, the royal power increased, and
raised itself above its rivals ; but the clergy had no
XIV PREFACE.
sooner assisted it, than they attempted to subjugate
it. In this new emergency, the royal power invoked
the help, sometimes of the now less formidable barons,
but more frequently of the people : the townsmen,
who were already strong enough to be valuable allies,
though not sufficiently powerful to require a high
price for their services. By their aid, the royal power
triumphed in its second conflict, and became in its
turn the dominant power, invested with the confidence
of the nations.
Such is the history of old Europe : the feudal
aristocracy, the clergy, and the royal power, alter-
nately possessed it, and successively presided over
its destiny and progress. To their coexistence and
conflict it was long indebted for all the liberty,
prosperity, and enlightenment it had obtained ; in a
word, for the development of its civilization.
In England in the seventeenth centur}^, and in
France in the eighteenth, all conflict between these
three powers had ceased ; they were living together
in peace and tranquillity. We might almost say that
they had lost their historical character, and even their
recollection of the labours which had formerly given
them strength and renown. The aristocracy no
longer defended public liberties, it did not even
defend its own ; the royal power no longer laboured
to abolish aristocratic privilege, it seemed even to
have become favourable to the possessors of that
PREFACE. XV
jirivilege in return for their servility ; and the clergy,
the spiritual power, was afraid of the human mind,
and, being unable to lead it, endeavoured to arrest its
progress by menaces. Meanwhile, civilization pursued
its course, and daily became more general and active.
Abandoned by their old leaders, surprised at their
apathy and ill temper, and indignant at finding that
less was done for them as their desires and strength
grew greater, the people began to think that it was
their duty to attend to their own interests ; and
assuming the entire responsibility of their affairs,
about which no one seemed any longer to care, they
simultaneously demanded liberty from the crown,
equality from the aristocracy, and intellectual freedom
from the clergy. Then revolutions broke forth.
They effected, for the benefit of a new power, a
change which Europe had already witnessed on several
occasions : they gave society leaders who were willing
and able to guide it in its progress. On this
ground alone, the aristocracy, the church, and the
king, had in turn possessed the preponderance. The
people now seized it in virtue of the same right, by
the same means, and in the name of the same
necessities.
Such is the real work, the true character, of both
the English and French Revolutions. After having
considered them as absolutely alike, it has been said
that they were similar only in appearance. The
XVI PREFACE.
English Revolution, wc are told, was political rather
than social ; the French Revolution attempted to
change both society and the government together ; —
the one sought to establish liberty, the other
equality ; — the one was rather religious than political,
and merely substituted one set of dogmas for another,
and one church for another church ; the other was
pre-eminently philosophical, and asserted the complete
independence of reason. The comparison is ingeni-
ous, and not altogether void of truth ; but it is almost
as superficial and frivolous as the opinion which it
assumes to supersede. Just as great differences are
visible beneath the external resemblance of the two
revolutions, so an even deeper resemblance is concealed
beneath their differences. From the very causes
which produced its ebullition more than a century
before the Revolution in France, the English Revolu-
tion, it is true, retained a deeper impress of the old
social condition of the country ; there, free institu-
tions, born amid barbarism, had survived even the
despotism which they had been unable to prevent ;
the feudal aristocracy, in part, at least, had made
common cause with the people. The royal power,
even in the days of its predominance, had never been
fully or undisturbedly absolute ; the national Church
had itself commenced the work of religious reform, and
stimulated the minds of the people to boldness of
inquiry and speculation. Evi.ry where, in the laws.
PREFACE. XVll
manners, and creed of the nation, the Revolution
found its work half effected; and from the govern-
ment which it aspired to change, it derived, at the
same time, both succour and obstruction, useful allies
and powerful adversaries. Thus it presented a
singular combination of elements apparently the most
diverse ; it was at once aristocratic and popular,
religious and philosophical, invoking laws and theories
by turns ; sometimes announcing a new yoke for
consciences, sometimes proclaiming their entire
liberty ; now narrowly confined within the limits of
fact, and now indulging in the most daring specula-
tions, — it was, in a word, placed between the old and
new state of society, rather as a bridge to connect
than as an abyss to separate them.
In the French Revolution, on the other hand, the
most terrible unity prevailed ; the spirit of innovation
held undivided sway over its proceedings ; the ancien
regime, far from taking its proper place and part in the
movement, sought only to defend itself against it, and
succeeded scarcely for a moment in the attempt, for it
was equally destitute of strength and virtue. On the
day on which the Revolution broke out, one fact alone
remained positive and influential, and that was the
general civilization of the country. In this great but
solitary result were concentred all the old institutions,
all the old manners, beliefs, and recollections — indeed,
the whole life of the nation. The many active and
VOL. I. b
XVIU PREFACE.
glorious centuries which had elapsed had produced
nothing but France. Hence arose the immensity of
the results of the Eevolution, and the portentous
magnitude of its errors ; — it possessed absolute power.
The difference is certainly great, and well worth}''
of consideration ; it is particularly striking when we
consider the two Revolutions in themselves as isolated
events, when we detach them from general history,
and endeavour to distinguish their peculiar phsyiog-
nomy and individual character. But, if they resume
their place in the course of time, — if we examine
what they have done for the development of
European civilization — we shall see the resemblance
reappear, and rise above all diversities. Originating
in the same causes, by the decay of the feudal
aristocracy, the Church, and the royal power, they
laboured to effect the same work, — to secure the
domination of the people in public affairs They
struggled for liberty against absolute power, for
equality against privilege, for progressive and general
interests against stationary and individual interests.
Their positions were different, and their strength
unequal ; what the one clearly perceived, the other
saw only imperfectly; in the career which the one
followed to the end, the other soon stopped short ; on
the same field of battle, the one found victory and the
other defeat ; the one erred from cynicism, the other
from hypocrisy ; the one was marked by great
PREFACE, XIX
prudence, the other by great power ; but they varied
only in the means they employed, and the success
they achieved ; they were the same in tendency and
in origin ; their desires, efforts, and progress aimed
at the same object; all that the one attempted or
accomplished, the other also effected or attempted.
Although guilty of religious persecution, the English
Revolution unfurled the banner of liberty of con-
science ; in spite of its aristocratic alliances, it
established the predominance of the Commons ; as its
chief occupation was with civil order, it demanded a
simpler legislative system, parliamentary reform, the
abolition of entails and of the right of primogeniture ;
and although deceived in many premature expecta-
tions, it liberated English society, to an immense
extent, from the monstrous inequality of the feudal
regime ; — in a word, such is the analogy between the
two Revolutions, that the first would never have been
properly understood unless the second had occurred.
In our own days, indeed, the history of the English
Revolution has assumed an altered aspect. Hume'
had succeeded in forming the opinion of Europe re-
garding it ; and notwithstanding the support of Mira-
beau, the declamations of Mrs. Macaulay^ had been
' Hume's History of England under the House of Stuart was pub-
lished in 1754-6.
* Mrs, Macaulay's work was to have been a History of England from
the accession of James I. to that of the Brunswick line, but it termi-
nates with the fall of James II. It was published in England in 1763-
XX PKEFACE.
unable to shake his authority. Suddenly, however,
the minds of men regained their independence, and a
host of works have attested not only that this epoch of
English history was again becoming the object of
strong sympathy, but that the narratives and opinions
of Hume had ceased to satisfy the imagination and
reason of the public. A great orator, Charles James
Fox,^ and many distinguished writers, Laing,^ Mac-
Diarmid,^ Brodie,* Lingard,^ and Godwin,® hastened
to satisfy the newly-awakened curiosity. The move-
ment, originating in France, could not fail to produce
its effects in that country also ; M. Yillemain's His-
toire de Cromwell, and M. Mazure's Histoii^e de la
Revolution de 1688, evidently prove that, among our-
selves, Hume has ceased to be a sufficient authority ;
and I was able to publish a voluminous collection of
original Memoirs^ relating to the period, without
1783. Two volumes of a translation of this work were published in
France, in 1791, under the name of Mirabeau.
' Fox's History of the Early Part of the Reign of James II. was
pubhshed in London in 1808.
* Laing's History of Scotland, from the Union of the Crowns to the
Union of the Kingdoms, in four volumes.
^ MacDiarmid's Lives of British Statesmen, in two volumes ; the
second volume contains the lives of Strafford and Clarendon.
"* Brodie's History of the British Empire from the Accession of
Charles I. to the Restoration of Charles II., in four volumes.
* Lingard's History of England ; the ninth and tenth volumes relate
to the reigns of James I. and Charles I.
® Godwin's History of the Commonwealth of England, in four
volumes.
'' This collection consists of twenty-five volumes.
PREFACE. XXI
wearying the attention or exhausting the curiosity of
my readers.
It would ill become me, in this place, to enter upon
a detailed examination of these works ; but I do not
hesitate to affirm that, but for the French Revolution,
but for the strong light which it has cast on the strug-
gle between the house of Stuart and the people of
England, they would not possess the new merits
which distinguish them from previous histories. In
proof of this, I need only point to the difference which
is to be remarked between those works which Great
Britain has produced, and those which had their origin
in France. With whatever patriotic interest the au-
thors of the former may be inspired by the Revolution
of 1640, even when they range themselves under the
standard of one particular party, historical criticism
presides over their labours ; they apply themselves
chiefly to an accurate investigation of facts, to a care-
ful comparison and discussion of evidence ; what they
relate is to them an old history with which they are
well acquainted, not a drama in which they bear a
part — a past era, already far distant, which they
spare no pains to understand thoroughly, but in the
midst of which they do not live. Mr. Brodie shares
all the prejudices, suspicions, and dislikes of the
sternest Puritans, on reference to Charles I. and the
Cavaliers, and notices none of the faults and errors of
his Puritanic friends. It would seem likely that such
partiality would produce a most animated narrative,
XXn PREFACE.
in which the party which awakened so much sympathy
in the writer's soul would be portrayed with truth
and warmth. This is not the case ; notwithstanding
the vehemence of his prejudices, Mr. Brodie studies
but does not see, discusses but does not paint-, he
admires the popular party without bringing it into
bold relief, and his work is a learned and useful dis-
sertation, not a moral and living history. Mr. Lin-
gard shares in none of the opinions and partialities of
Mr. Brodie ; he leans neither to the King nor to the
Parliament ; he pleads no cause, and makes no special
effort to refute the errors of his predecessors ; he
boasts of not having opened Hume's history since he
began his own •, he has written, he says, with the help
of original documents only, placing himself always in
presence of the period he had to describe, and with a
firm resolution to set aside all systematic schemes. Is
his history lifelike, in consequence of this impartiality ?
No ; Mr. Lingard's impartiality is mere indifference ;
a Catholic priest, it matters little to him whether
Anglicans or Presbyterians are triumphant : his indif-
ference has, therefore, proved as incapable as Mr.
Brodie's passion to penetrate beyond the external and
material forms of events ; and the chief merit of his
work is, that he has carefully investigated facts, col-
lected them with considerable completeness, and ar-
ranged them with skill. Mr. Malcolm Laing has
shown greater sagacity in discovering the political
character of the Revolution ; lie shows very plainly,
PREFACE. XXlll
that, without clearly comprehending its purpose, it
aspired, from the very outset, to change the seat of
power, to bring it down to the House of Commons,
and to substitute parliamentary for regal government ;
and that, short of this result, it could not rest in
peace. But the moral aspect of the period, the reli-
gious enthusiasm, the popular passions, the party in-
trigues, the personal rivalries, all the scenes in which
human nature displays itself, unrestrained by either
laws or manners, find no record in his work ; it is like
a report from a clear-headed judge, who has seen only
the written depositions, but before whom neither the
actors nor the witnesses have appeared in person. I
might thus pass in review all the works relating to
this subject, with which English literature has recently
been enriched ; they would all present the same cha-
racter — an unmistakable revival of interest in this
great crisis of the national life, a more attentive
study of the facts relating to it, a stronger feeling
of its merits, and a fresher appreciation of its causes
and consequences : but nothing more than the ordi-
nary results of meditation and study — an erudite or
philosophical work. I should look in vain for that
natural sympathy between the author and his sub-
ject, which imparts light and life to history ; and if
Hampden or Clarendon were to return to existence,
I think they would find it difficult to recognize,
in these works, the times in which ihey lived and
acted.
XXIV PREFACE.
AVhen I open M. A^illcmain's Histoire de Cromwell,
I find myself in presence of a very different spectacle ;
it is less complete, less learned, and less accurate
tlian many of those works which I have just men-
tioned ; but it everywhere displa^ys a quick and lively
comprehension of revolutionary opinions, passions and
vicissitudes, of public tendencies, individual cha-
racters, and the indomitable nature and changing
forms of parties ; the reason of the historian embraces
all the positions and ideas with which he has to deal ;
his imagination is kindled by all real and sincere im-
pressions ; his impartiality, though perhaps somewhat
too sceptical, is nevertheless frequently more animated
than even the passion of the exclusive advocates of
one cause ; and although the Revolution appears, in
his book, confined within the narrow limits of a
biography, it is there portrayed more clearly and
vividly than in any other work.
This arises from the fact that, independently of any
advantages of talent, M. Yillemain also had those of
position : he considered and judged the English Re-
volution from the midst of the French Revolution : in
the events and men that passed before his own eyes,
he found the key to those he had to describe ; he has
transfused the life of his own age into the times
which he wished to resuscitate.
I must not pursue these observations to a greater
length : I have only ventured them in order to show
more clearly what a dcej) analogy there is between
PREFACE. XXV
the two epochs, and also to explain why a Frenchman
may believe that the history of the English Revoln-
tion has not yet been written in a fully satisfactory
manner, and that he may be permitted to attempt to
supply the deficiency. I have carefully studied
nearly all the old and new books relating to the sub-
ject ; I had no fear that their perusal would modify
the sincerity of my impressions or the independence
of my judgment ; there is, I think, excessive timidity
in so readily believing that an auxiliary may become a
master, or excessive pride in thus absolutely refusing
all assistance. Nevertheless — and this will, I think,
be at once perceived — original documents have been
my chief guides. I have nothing to say, in this place,
with regard to my collection of Memoirs : in the
notices which I prefixed to them on their publication,
I endeavoured thoroughly to explain their character
and merits ; and those which I have not included in
my collection, though I have referred to them in my
history, do not seem to me of sufficient importance to
require further comment. Collections of official acts
and papers are very numerous, and though they have
often been laid under contribution, still abound in
unknown treasures ; I have made frequent use of the
State Papers of Rushworth and Thurloe, of the Journals
of both Houses, of the old Parliamentary History as
well as the more recent work of Mr. Cobbett, of the
State Trials, and of a great number of other works of
the same kind which it would be tedious to enumerate.
VOL. I. c
XXVI PREFACE.
1 have also found many curious facts in contemporary
pamphlets, published in France as well as in England ;
for tlie French people took a far greater interest in
the English Revolution than is commonly imagined ;
many treatises were published on both sides, and the
Frondeurs frequently availed themselves of its example
to check Mazarin and the Court. I must not forget to
add, as an act of justice to a man and a work now
too much neglected, that I have very often consulted
Rapin's History of England with great advantage,
and that, notwithstanding the inferiority of the author's
talent, he better understood and has more completely
described the English Revolution than most of his
successors.
Finally, let me here give expression to my grati-
tude to all those persons, both in France and England,
who have bestowed their anticipatory favour on my
work, and lent me the most valuable assistance.
Among others, I am indebted to the kindness of Sir
James Mackintosh — a kindness as inexhaustible as his
genius and learning — for suggestions and counsels
which no other man could have given me ; and one of
my own countrymen, remarkable for his knowledge of
the history and condition of England, M. Gallois, has
lavished on me, with a readiness which I have some
right to construe as friendship, the multifarious trea-
sures of his library and conversation.
GrUlZOT.
CONTENTS OF THE FIEST VOLUME.
Preliminary Essay on the Causes op the Success of the
English Revolution
Page
BOOK I.
Accession of Charles I. — State of Public Feeling in England —
Convocation of the First Parhament — Spirit of Liberty mani-
fested by it — Its Dissolution — First Attempts at Arbitrary
Government — Their ill Success — Second Parliament — Impeach-
ment of the Duke of Buckingham — Dissolution of the Parha-
ment — Bad Administration of Buckingham — Third Parhament
— Petition of Rights — Pi'orogation of the Parliament — Assassi-
nation of the Duke of Buckingham — Second Session of the
Third Parhament — Fresh Causes of Pubhc Dissatisfaction —
The King's Anger — Dissolution of the Third Parliament . .123
BOOK II.
Designs of the King and his Council — Prosecution of the Par-
liamentary Leaders — Apparent Apathy of England — Struggle
between the Ministers and the Court — The Queen — Strafford —
Laud — Disunion and Unpopularity of the Government — Civil
and Religious Tyranny — Its effects upon the various Classes
»of the Nation — Trial of Prynne, Burton, and Bastwick — Trial of
Hampden — Insurrection in Scotland —First War with the Scots
— Peace of Berwick — Short Parliament of 1640 — Second War
with the Scots — Its iU Success — Convocation of the Long Par-
liament . . . . . . . . . . .176
XXVIU CONTENTS.
BOOK III.
Page
Opening of Parliament — Its Assumj^tion of Power — State of Poli-
tical and Religions Parties — Concessions made by the King —
Negotiations between the King and the Parliamentary Leaders
— Conspiracy in the Army — Trial and Execution of Strafford —
The King's Journey to Scotland — Insurrection in Ireland —
Debate on the Remonstrance — The King's return to London —
Progress of the Eevolution — lUots — Afiair of the Five Mem-
bers — The King leaves London — Departure of the Queen to the
Continent — Aftair of the Militia— Negotiations — The King takes
up his Piesidence at York — Both Parties prepare for War — The
King is refused admission into Hull — Vain attempts at recon-
ciliation — Formation of the two Armies ..... 258
Appendix 383
PRELIMINARY ESSAY
CAUSES OF THE SUCCESS
ENGLISH REVOLUTION.
The English Eevoliition was successful. It succeeded
t^vice. Its authors were the founders of constitutional
monarchy in England ; their descendants founded, in
America, the Eepubhc of the United States. These
great events are now clouded by no obscurities ;
they have received the elucidation, together with the
sanction, of time. Sixty years ago, France entered
upon the path which England opened ; and, only yes-
terday as it were, Europe dashed headlong into the
same course. I am desirous to explain the causes
which have secured — in England to constitutional
monarchy, and in America to republicanism — that
solid success which France and Europe have hitherto
vainly sought to obtain through those mysterious and
trying revolutions, which, as they are well or ill
endured, elevate or mislead nations for ages.
VOL. I. B
3 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
It was in the name of faitli and of religious liberty
that, in the sixteenth century, the movement com-
menced, which ever since that period, with the excep-
tion of a few temporary lulls, has agitated and swayed
the world. The tempest arose first in the human
soul, and attacked the Church before it reached the
State.
It has been said that Protestantism was in reahty
more a poHtical than a rehgious revolution ; an insur-
rection of worldly interests against the estabhshed
order of the Church, rather than the outburst of a
conviction with regard to the eternal interests of man.
To say this is to judge merely from appearances ; and
this error has led those spiritual or temporal powers,
which have allowed themselves to be misled by it?
into a course of conduct fatal to their safety. Anxious
to repress the revolutionary element in Protestantism,
they have misunderstood its religious element. The
spirit of revolt is undoubtedly very powerful ; but it
is not capable of performing such mighty achievements
by its own unassisted strength. It was not simply to
cast off a yoke, it was also to profess and practise a
faith, that the Reformation of the sixteenth century
was begun and persevered in. After the lapse of
tliree centuries, this is gloriously demonstrated by a
sovereign, incontestable fact. England and Holland,
the two most Protestant countries of Europe, are the
countries in which, at the present day, the Cliristian
faith possesses the greatest vitality and influence. A
man must be strangely ignorant of human nature to
believe that religious fervour would have thus sus-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 6
tained and perpetuated itself, after the triumphant
issue of the insurrection, if the movement had not
been really and essentially religious.
The German revolution, in the sixteenth century,
was not political, but rehgious. The French revolu-
tion in the eighteenth was not religious, but political.
It was the fortune of England in the seventeenth
century, to be governed by the spirit of religious faith
as well as by the spirit of political hberty, and to enter
upon the two revolutions at the same time. All the
great passions of human nature were thus brought
into duly-controlled activity ; and the hopes and aspir-
ations of eternity remained to men even when they
beheld the failure of all their earthly aspirations and
hopes.
The English reformers, especially those whose object
was merely political, did not consider a revolution
necessary. The laws, the traditions, the precedents,
the whole past annals of their country, were dear and
sacred in their eyes ; and they found in them a found-
ation for their pretensions, as well as a sanction for
their ideas. It was in the name of the Great Charter,
and of the innumerable statutes which had been passed
during four centuries in confirmation of it, that they
demanded their liberties. For four centuries, not a
generation of Englishmen had passed away without
uttering the name, and witnessing the assemblage, of
Parliament. The great barons and the people, the
country gentlemen and the burgesses, met together
in 1640, not to contend for new acquisitions, but to
regain their common inheritance ; they came to repos-
B 2
4 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
sess themselves of their ancient and positive rights,
and not to pursue the infinite and unknown combin-
ations and specidations of the human mind.
The rehgious reformers did not enter into the Long
Parhament of Charles I. with such legal pretensions.
The Episcopal Church of England, as it had been con-
stituted, first by the capricious and cruel despotism of
Henry YIII., and then by the clever and persevering
despotism of Elizabeth, was not at all to their taste.
In their eyes it was an incomplete and ineffective
reform, continually menaced by the danger of a relapse
into the Catholic Church, from which it was not
sufficiently far removed ; and they contemplated the
thorough remodelling and reconstitution of the Chris-
tian Church of their country. They displayed their
revolutionary spirit much more ardently and openly
than the party who were intent upon mere political
reform. Nevertheless the rehgious innovators them-
selves did not yield altogether to the suggestions of
their imaginations. They had an anchor to which
they held, a compass upon which they relied. The
Gospel was their Great Charter, overlaid, it is true, by
their interpretations and commentaries, but anterior
and superior to their will : they sincerely respected it,
and humbled themselves, in spite of their pride, before
the law which they had not made.
To these pledges of moderation, which the two
impending revolutions thus found in the dispositions
of their respective partisans. Providence added yet
another favour. They were not condemned, at their
very outset, to the wickedness and dailger of sponta-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 5
neously attacking, without clear and pressing neces-
sity, a peaceful and inoffensive ruler. In England,
in tlie seventeenth century, the royal power was the
aggressor. Charles I., fall of haughty pretensions,
though devoid of great ambition, and rather that he
might not fall in the opinion of contemporary monarchs
than from any "wish to rule his people with an iron
sway, twice attempted to introduce the maxims and
practices of absolute monarchy ; first, in presence
of the Parliament, and under the influence of a vain
and frivolous favourite,^ whose presumptuous incom-
petency shocked the good sense and wounded the
honour even of the most obscure citizens ; and next,
by refusing to have any Parliament, and governing
alone, by means of an able, energetic, ambitious, and
imperious minister^ — a man who was devoted to his
sovereign without being well understood or well sus-
tained by him, and who learned too late, that, to save
kings, it is not sufficient to sacrifice oneself nobly in
their service.
Against this aggressive despotism, which was more
enterprising than powerful, and which attacked, in the
Church as well as in the State, both the ancient rights
and the new liberties demanded by the country, the
people did not contemplate the employment of any-
thing beyond lawful resistance, and put full trust in
the Parhament. There the resistance was as unani-
mous as it was legitimate. Men the most different in
their origin and character — nobles, gentlemen, or bur-
' George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham.
' Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford.
6 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
gesses, connected or unconnected with the Court,
friends or enemies of the Established Church — all
exclaimed with one accord against so many grievances
and abuses ; and the abuses fell, and the grievances
disappeared, just as the aged walls of a deserted
fortress crumble away at the first strokes of an
assailant.
In this outbreak of the national anger and hopes,
some more prudent minds, some more scrupulous con-
sciences, discovered cause for uneasiness. Vengeance
not only disfigures, but really perverts, justice ; and
passion, proud of its rights, goes farther than it
ought, and even than it intended. Strafford was justly
accused and unjustly judged. The politicians, who
did not desire the ruin of the Episcopal Church,
allowed the bishops to be outraged and humihated, as
though they were men who had fallen to rise no more.
The ill-directed blows which deprived the Crown of its
usurpations and illegitimate pretensions, interfered also
with its just prerogatives. Grave incidents revealed,
and courageous voices proclaimed, the revolutionary
spirit that was concealed beneath these reforms.
Rising revolutions have never failed to intimate
and foreshadow their future course ; but the neces-
sity and the splendour of victory banished at once
the consciousness of fault and the presentiment of
danger.
When the work of reform was accomplished — when
the grievances which had excited the unanimous repro-
bation of the country were redressecL — when the powers
which were the authors of these grievances, and the men
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 7
who were the instruments of these powers, were over-
tlirown, — the scene changed. A new question pre-
sented itself — how shall these conquests be retained ?
What assurance is there that England will henceforth be
governed by the laws, and according to the principles,
which it has just re-established ?
The political reformers began to feel perplexed.
Above them was the King, who conspired against
them whilst he yielded to their demands. If the
King resumed, in the government, that power which
was still secured to him, he would make use of it
against reform and reformers. Around them were
their allies — the religious innovators, Presbyterians
and other sectaries — ^who were not satisfied with mere
pohtical reforms, and who, in their hatred of the Esta-
bhshed Church, aspired, not only to shake ofi* its yoke,
but to destroy it, and bring it into subjection to them-
selves. For the security of their work — for their own
security — the chiefs resolved to remain in arms. If
they had proposed a disarmament, their soldiers would
not have permitted it.
One course alone could, in their eyes, insure their
safety. The Parliament must retain the sovereign
power it had just assumed, and the King must be ren-
dered permanently incapable of governing in opposition
to the wishes of the Parliament, and of the House of
Commons in the Parliament.
This is the result at wliich constitutional monarchy
has arrived in England ; this is the end at which its
partisans have been aiming for the last two centuries.
But, in the seventeenth century, they possessed neither
O PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
the knowledge nor the pohtical virtues necessary for
this mode of government.
There is in the heart of man such a union of arro-
gance and weakness that he aspires, at the same
time, to all the glory and all the repose that vic-
tory can impart. It is a small thing for him to sur-
mount obstacles ; he wishes to suppress them altogether,
that they may give him no further trouble ; and tri-
umph itself does not content him, unless he can enjoy
it in all the confidence of complete security. Con-
stitutional monarchy does not give satisfaction to these
evil tendencies of human nature. To none of the powers
which it calls into being does it accord the pleasures of
undivided and undisturbed dominion. On all, even on
the victor, it imposes the unceasing labour of forced
alHances, mutual concessions, frequent compromises,
indirect influences, and an incessantly-renewed contest,
with incessantly-recurring chances of success or defeat.
It is at this price that constitutional monarchy defi-
nitively guarantees the triumph of the interests and
feeUngs of the country, which is itself bound to mode-
ration in its desires, and to vigilance and patience in its
efforts.
Neither the King nor the ParHament of England,
in the seventeenth century, understood these condi-
tions of their common government, and consequently
would not submit to them. The King was anxious to
retain his power ; the House of Commons aimed at
becoming, directly and infallibly, the sovereign ruler of
the country. This alone could satisfy their pride and
calm their fears.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 9
To attain this end — to retain and exercise the sove-
reign authority which it had seized — the House of
Commons could be contented no longer with the refor-
mation of abuses and the restoration of legal rights.
It must thoroughly and radically alter the ancient laws
of the land, and concentrate all powers in its own
hands.
When matters had reached this point, a great divi-
sion took place among the reformers. Some, influenced
by greater foresight or more timidity, embraced the
defence of legal order and of the menaced monarchy ;
others, more bold or less scrupulous, entered upon the
path of revolution.
At this moment originated the two great parties,
which, developing themselves successively under dif-
ferent names and aspects, have for two centuries swayed
the destinies of England — the party devoted to the
maintenance of the established order of things, and
the party favourable to the progress of popular in-
fluence — the Tories and the Wliigs, the Conservatives
and the Innovators.
In the Parliament, the struggle was severe but brief.
The monarchical party attempted to organize itself
aromid the King, and to govern in his name. These
first attempts at constitutional government failed,
almost before they had begun. They failed through
the fault of the King, who was inconsistent, frivo-
lous, obstinate, and as insincere to his advisers as
to his enemies ; through the inexperience of his coun-
sellors themselves, who were alternately too exclusive
and too weak, and incessantly baffled and betrayed in
10 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
the palace as well as in the Parliament ; and through
the distrust and pretensions of the revolutionary party,
who were determined not to rest so long as the abso-
lute power, which they sought to destroy, had not passed
into their own hands.
One day, in connexion with a fresh remonstrance,
which it was proposed should be presented to the King
against the old grievances (as though they had not
been already redressed), the numerical strength of the
two parties in the House was clearly tested. The de-
bate became so violent, that even vdthin the precincts of
the Commons' House itself, the members were on the
point of coming to blows. Eleven votes gave the vic-
tory to the revolutionary party. Fifty days after this
division, the King left his palace of WliitehaU as a
fugitive, and re-entered it only when on his way to
the scaffold. The House of Commons immediately
ordered that the menaced kingdom should be placed in
a state of defence without delay. The Parhamentary
struggle ceased — the Civil War began.
At this solemn moment, patriotic regrets and
gloomy forebodings were felt by members of both
parties, especially by the King's adherents, who were
less confident in their strength, and perhaps, also, in
the justice of their cause. But this was not the general
feeling. The desire and hope of success predominated
in most hearts. The spirit of resistance to illegality
and oppression has been one of the most noble and
salutary characteristics of the English people through-
out the whole course of their history. Docile, and
even favoui-able to authority, when it acts in virtue
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 11
of the law, they boldly maintain against it that
which they consider to be the law of the land and
their own right. In the midst of their dissensions,
this same feeling animated both parties. The revolu-
tionary party were struggling against the illegalities
and oppressions, which, in past times, England had
suffered from the King, and which she had to fear
from him in the future. The monarchical party were
struggling against the illegalities and oppressions,
which, at that time, the Parliament was inflicting
on the country. Respect for right and law, although
daily misunderstood and violated, was universally
felt by all minds, and concealed from their view the
wrongs and evils that civil war was about to shower
upon them.
The habits of neither party were very repugnant
to civil war. The Cavaliers were impetuous and
daring, still given to that love of combat, and that
taste for an appeal to force, which characterised the
feudal times. The Pmitans were stern and tenacious,
inspired by the passions and traditions of the He-
brew people, who defended and avenged their God
by punishing His enemies. Both were familiar with
the sacrifice of life, and bloodshed excited in them
no horror.
Another more hidden cause provoked and stimu-
lated the movement. The political and religious
parties were not alone engaged in the struggle.
Their contest concealed a social question — the struggle
between the different classes for influence and power.
Not that these classes were, in England, so tho-
12 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
roughly separated and hostile to each other as they
have been in other countries. The great barons had
maintained the liberties of the people at the same time
that they asserted their own freedom ; and the people
had not forgotten it. The country gentlemen and
the burgesses had sat together in Parliament, for
three centuries, in the name of the Commons of
England. But, during the last century, great
changes had taken place in the relative strength of
the different classes of society, without an analogous
change having been effected in the Government. The
commercial activity and religious ardour of the middle
classes had given a prodigious impplse to their wealth
and intelligence. It was remarked with surprise, in
one of the first Parhaments of the reign of Charles I.,
that the House of Commons was three times as rich
as the House of Lords. The high aristocracy no
longer possessed, and no longer imparted to royalty,
around which it still rallied, the same preponderance
in the nation. The burgesses, the country gentlemen,
the farmers, and the small landed proprietors (then a
very numerous class), did not exercise an influence
upon public affairs proportionate to their importance
in the country. Their political importance had not
increased with their wealth and social elevation.
Hence, among them, and in the ranks beneath them,
there arose a proud and powerful spirit of ambition,
ready to seize upon any opportunity for developing
itself. Civil war opened a wide field to their energy
and hopes. At its outset, it did not present the
appearance of an exclusive and jealous social classifica-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 13
tioii; many country gentlemen, and several of the
most considerable of the nobility, appeared at the
head of the popular party. Nevertheless, the mass of
the nobles on the one hand, and of the burgesses and
people on the other, ranged themselves, the former
around the Crown, the latter around the Parhament —
and certain unmistakable symptoms already revealed
the existence of a great social movement in the midst
of a great political struggle ; and showed that the
effervescence of an ascendant democracy was forcing
its way through the ranks of an enfeebled and divided
aristocracy.
Each party found in the state of society — I might
even say, in the laws of the country — natural and
almost legitimate means for sustaining by arms their
rights and pretensions. Ever since the reign of Queen
Ehzabeth, the House of Commons had zealously ap-
phed itself to the abolition of the last tottering insti-
tutions of the feudal system. But there still re-
mained deep traces of it ; and the habits, the feelings,
and sometimes even the rules of this system, still
determined the relations of the possessors of fiefs,
either with the King their suzerain, or with a part of
the population grouped aromid them, either in their
castles or upon their estates. These people arose at
their bidding, to engage in festivals or combats, just
as they themselves obeyed the summons of the King,
when he claimed their services. It was one of those
epochs of transformation in which ancient laws,
honoured though out of date, still control the actions
of the men whom they no longer govern. Devotedness
14 PREiJMINARY ESSAY ON
had taken the place of servitude ; the fidehty of the
vassal had become the loyalty of the subject ; and the
Cavaliers, rich or poor, rallied around the King, ready
to fight and to die for him, and followed by a troop or
a handful of servants, ready to fight and to die for
them.
On their side, the burgesses, the artizans, the towns-
folk, had also, under other forms, their means of inde-
pendent action, and even of war. Organized into
municipal or trading corporations, they met together
freely to discuss their affairs ; they levied taxes, called
out militia, administered justice, employed police, and,
in short, dehberated and acted like petty sovereigns
within the circuit of their walls, or the frequently
obscure limits of their charters. And the extension
of trade and manufactm-es, their riches, their con-
nexions, and their credit, gave to these corporations a
power which they frequently employed in the service
of their cause, with the boldness of new-born and
inexperienced pride.
Neither in the country nor in the towns did royalty
possess the support of a central and undivided ad-
ministration. Financial, military, and even judicial
affairs, were more or less completely in the hands of
local and almost independent authorities ; here, the
county proprietors ; there, municipal bodies or dif-
ferent corporations ; and all these appropriated to
themselves the administrative power, in the interest
of their political cause, sometimes to serve the central
government, whether King or Parliament, sometimes
to resist it.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 15
And where these means were not sufficient — where
the action extended beyond the sphere of the ancient
and recognized local authorities — the traditional spirit
of association, which was still powerful in the country,
quickly established, between the counties and cities,
between the different parts of the kingdom, or the
different classes of society, practical and efficient bonds
of union, in virtue of which, new, free, and extem-
poraneous associations levied taxes and troops, formed
committees, and elected leaders, charged to furnish
and direct their quota of co-operation in the general
cause they had embraced.
It was in an association of this kind — that of the five
eastern counties, which united in support of the Par-
liament — that Cromwell gave the first indications of
his strength, and laid the first foundations of his
power.
In a society thus organized and disposed, civil war
was neither revolting nor impracticable. It soon over-
spread the whole country — in some localities excited
by the agents of the King or of the Parliament — in
others, spontaneously entered into by the citizens ;
and it was maintained by both parties with an energy
frequently sorrowful, but always unliesitating, as the
exercise of a right and the performance of a duty.
Both parties were profoundly convinced of the justice
and greatness of their cause. Both made, in its ser-
vice, those efforts and sacrifices which elevate, even if
they mislead, the minds of men, and which give to
passion the appearance, and sometimes the merit, of
virtue. Nor was virtue itself wanting to either party.
10 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
Though violent and licentious for the most part, the
Cavaliers had in their ranks some of the finest examples
of the lofty and generous manners characteristic of
ancient families, full of disinterested loyalty and cour-
teous dignity. The Puritans, though stern and proud,
rendered an inestimable service to their country, for
they established the austerity of private life, and the
sanctity of the domestic hearth. The two parties con-
tended with each other with stubborn animosity ; but,
even in the heat of the conflict, they did not renounce
the sentiments which distinguish times of order and
peace. There were no sanguinary riots, no judicial
massacres. There was civil war, ardent, obstinate, full
of violence and evil, but without cynical or barbarous
excesses, and restrained, by the general manners of the
people, within certain limits of justice and humanity.
I hasten to do this justice to the two parties, for
the virtues of parties are fragile and short-lived when
they have to withstand the blast and contend against
the tempests of revolutions. From day to day, in
proportion as the civil war was prolonged, right was
less respected, and just and generous sentiments dimi-
nished in influence. The natural consequences of a
state of revolution displayed themselves in both parties,
in the continually-increasing disregard of the habits
and ideas of law and morality. The King stood in
need of money : the Cavaliers commenced an unre-
strained pillage. The taxes levied by the Parhament
were not sufiicient for the necessities of the war ; so it
established in all the counties a system of confiscation,
more or less disguised, which enabled it to take pos-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 17
session of the revenues, and frequently of the lands, of
the Malignants, as the antagonists of the Parliament
were called, and thus to provide a daily source of
wealth to its partisans. In this general and continuous
disorder, in the midst of abuses of force and extremi-
ties of misfortune, bad passions were incessantly called
into exercise, and opportmiities were offered for the
gratification of all evil desires. Hatred and vengeance
took possession of energetic minds ; and feeble souls
fell into fear and baseness. The Parhament, which
pretended to act in the name of the law, and to serve
the King, even while fighting against him, was con-
strained, in its most violent actions, to use false and
hypocritical language. Among the Eoyalists, many,
mistrusting the reserve of the King, called upon to
make sacrifices which exceeded their strength, and
daily becoming more uncertain of the success of their
cause, felt loyalty die away in their hearts, and either
submitted in despair, or made good their losses by plun-
der. Falsehood, violence, avarice, pusillanimity, sel-
fishness under all its forms, rapidly increased amongst
the men engaged in the contest ; and the people, who
either took no part in it, or acted only at a distance,
exposed to the detestable influence of the spectacle of
a revolution, gradually lost, or else retained a dim and
doubtful recollection of, their ideas of right and duty,
of justice and virtue.
At the same time, the people suffered severely in
their material interests. War, everywhere present, and
everywhere undisciplined, ravaged town and country,
destroyed the subsistence, and defeated the hopes and
VOL. I. c
18 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
labours of the people. The financial measures of the
Parliament, taken advantage of by local enmities
and intrigues, disturbed and depreciated the value of
landed property. There was no security for present
business or future laboui-s. Domestic hfe was injured
and overthrown, even in families the most averse to
political contests. And as alarm always travels faster
and further than suffering, the country, overwhehned
with lamentable distress, was a prey to an anxiety
even more general and deplorable than its distress.
Much time did not elapse before the people made
known their complaints and wishes. The war was stiU
at its height, when the cry of Peace ! peace I resounded
at the doors of the Parhament. Frequent petitions
demanded it. Numerous assemblages presented them
— assemblages so numerous and excited, that it was
necessary to employ force to disperse them. In the
House of Commons, notwithstanding the almost entire
secession of the first Eoyahst party, a new Eoyalist
party formed itself in the name of peace, and eagerly
seized every opportunity for proclaiming its necessity,
and for commencing negociations with the King. At-
tempts at negociation were frequently made, but failed,
through the intrigues of those who, in both camps,
were opposed to peace, because of the concessions
which it entailed, and tlu'ough the incompetency or
weakness of those who, though desirous of peace, were
afraid to admit its conditions. The civil war con-
tinued, but the party which originated it was dismem-
bered. The struggle for and against the Revolution
had recommenced in the Parhament.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 19
Out of doors, especially in the country, the people
were not satisfied with asking Parliament for peace ;
they tried to impose it themselves, locally at least, on
both parties. Associations were formed, armed bodies
put themselves in motion, declaring that they would
no longer permit their lands to be ravaged, either by
Parliamentarians or by Eoyahsts, and attacked indis-
criminately any party of either army that they chanced
to meet. This was a sort of armed neutrality in the
midst of civil war ; a fatile attempt, truly, but one
which showed how greatly the desperate conflicts of
the two parties had already wounded the feelings, and
injured the interests of the country.
So long as the war was furious and its issue doubtful,
these sufferings and inclinations of the people, though
causing a pacific reaction, had but little effect in in-
ducing them to return to their allegiance. They
accused the King of obstinacy and falsehood. They
complained bitterly of his secret intrigues with the
Queen and the Cathohcs, who were passionately hated
and feared. They ascribed to him, as much as to the
ParHament, the evils and the continuance of the civil
war.
When the war was at an end, when the King was
a prisoner in the hands of the Parliament, the pacific
reaction became more decidedly and more generally
Royalist. The King could do nothing, and bore his
misfortunes with dignity. The Parhament could do
everything, and did not put an end to the calamities
of the country. On the Parliament now devolved all
responsibility. To it were addressed all the discon-
c 2
20 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
tents, tlie disappointed hopes, the suspicions, the
hatreds, the curses of the present, and the terrors of
the future.
Urged hy the national feeling, enlightened by the
imminent peril, the political reformers (the first leaders
of the Revolution in Parliament), and in their train a
party of religious innovators (the Presbyterians, who,
though enemies of the Episcopal Church, were friends
to the monarchy), made a last effort to bring about
peace with the King, and to terminate at once the
war and the Revolution.
They were sincere, even passionate in their desire,
but still full of the revolutionary pretensions which
had already, on several occasions, rendered peace im-
possible. By the conditions which the}^ imposed on the
King, they requested liim to sanction the destruction
of the monarchy and of the Church ; in other words,
to complete, with his own hands, the ruin of the edifice
which constituted his safety and possessed his faith.
They had proclaimed in principle and brought into
practice the direct sovereignty of the House of Com-
mons ; and constrained, in their turn, to resist the
popular current, they were astonished at not finding
strength and support, but meeting even with distrust
and hostility, from the high aristocracy and the Churcli
which they had decried and demolished.
Even if they had succeeded in concluding a peace
with the King, that peace would have been ineffectual.
It was too late to arrest the progress of the Revolution,
and too soon to bring it to its true and national end.
God was only then beginning to exercise His justice.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 21
and to teach His lessons. As soon as the first leaders
of the movement essayed to repair the mischief they
had done, the truly revolutionary party arose, and,
treating their newly-obtained wisdom with brutal con-
tempt, di'ove them from Parhament, condemned the
King to death, and proclaimed the Commonwealth.
Two centuries have elapsed since the English Com-
monwealth put Charles T. to death, and almost immedi-
ately after, fell itself upon the soil which it had stained
with his blood. The French Republic more recently
presented to the world a similar spectacle. And we
hear it still said that these great crimes were acts of
a great policy, demanded by the necessity of founding
those repubHcs which scarcely survived them a day !
Thus do human folly and perversity pretend to
cover themselves with the veil of greatness. Neither
the truth of history nor the interest of mankind can
suffer this falsehood.
The spirit of faith and of religious liberty had de-
generated in some sects into an arrogant and quarrel-
some fanaticism, which was intractable to all authority,
and found satisfaction only in unbridled independence
and spiritual pride. By the civil war these sectaries
had become soldiers, at once disputatious and devoted,
enthusiastic and disciplined. Sprung, for the most
part, from the lower classes and professions, they
greedily enjoyed the pleasure of commanding and
giving orders, of beheving themselves and calhng
themselves the chosen and powerful instruments of the
will and justice of God. By appealing sometimes to
reHgious enthusiasm, sometimes to military discipline.
22 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
and sometimes to democratic feeling, Cromwell had
gained the confidence of these men, and become their
leader. After having, it is said, spent his youth in the
excesses of a fiery temperament, in the outbursts of
an ardent and restless piety, and m the service of
the interests or desires of the people among whom he
lived, as soon as the field of politics and war opened
before him, he dashed zealously into it, as the only
career in which he could display Ms energies to his
own satisfaction. The most impetuous of sectaries,
the most active of revolutionists, the most able of
soldiers ; equally ready and ardent to speak, to pray, to
conspire, and to fight ; unreserved, with the frankness of
conscious power, and, at need, a liar of such inexhaust-
ible boldness as to fill even his enemies with surprise
and embarrassment ; impassioned and coarse, venture-
some and prudent, mystical and practical ; boundless in
the flights of his imagination, unscrupulous when his
necessities required ; resolved to succeed at any price ;
he was more prompt than any one else to discern and
seize the means of success, and inspired all, both friends
and enemies, with the conviction that no one would
succeed so well, or go so far as he.
To such a party, led by such a man, the Common-
wealth was welcome. It gave satisfaction to their
passions, an opening to their hopes, and security to
the interests which civil war had created for them. It
delivered the country into the hands of the army by
the genius of its leader, and gave the empire to
Cromwell by the disciplined aid of his soldiers.
The respect which I feel for their sincerity, their
THE ENGLISH UEVOLTJTION. 23
genius, and their misfortunes, prevents me from ex-
pressing all that I think of some celebrated men, who
were also Republicans, but rather by their political
system, and according to the models of antiquity, than
from religious fanaticism. I refer to Sidney, Yane,
Ludlow, Harrington, Hutchinson, and Milton. These
were men of elevated minds and proud hearts, nobly
ambitious for their country and for humanity ; but so
injudicious and so foolishly arrogant, that they learned
nothing either from success or from defeat. Credulous
as children, obstinate as old men, incessantly blinded
by their hopes to their dangers and their faults, at
the very time when, by their own anarchical tyranny,
they were preparing the way for a stronger and more
sensible despotism, they believed they were founding
the freest and most glorious of governments.
Excepting those sects that were organized into regi-
ments, and those cliques that formed the Parhament, no
one in England was anxious for a republic. It offended
the traditions, the manners, the laws, the old affections,
the ancient venerations, the regular interests, the good
order, the reason, and the moral sense of the country.
Irritated and disquieted by this manifest aversion
of the public to their designs, the sectaries and Crom-
well thought that to found a government so obnoxious,
it was necessary at the very outset, by a terrible and
irretrievable blow, to prove its strength and affirm its
right. They determined to consecrate the repubHc on
the scaffold of Charles I.
But even the ablest of revolutionists is shortsighted.
Intoxicated by passion, or governed by the necessity
24 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
of the moment, they never foresee that that which
effects their triumph to-day, will to-morrow cause
their defeat. The execution of Charles I. dehvered
England, in a state of stupor, into the hands of Crom-
well and the republicans. But the republicans and
Cromwell, stricken to death by the same blow, were
thenceforth nothing more than a violent and ephe-
meral government, marked with that seal of supreme
iniquity wliich devotes to certain ruin the strongest
and most brilliant powers.
The judges of Charles I. left no means untried to
free their action from tliis fatal character, and to re-
present it as a judgment of Grod, which they were
commissioned to perform. Charles had aimed at
absolute power, and carried on civil war. Many rights
had been violated, and much blood shed, by his orders
or with liis sanction. On liim was cast all the respon-
sibihty of the anarchy and the war. He was called
upon to account for all the liberties that had been
oppressed, and all the blood that had been spilt — a
nameless crime, which death alone could expiate. But
the conscience of a people cannot be so far misled, even
when it is under the influence of distraction and terror.
Others beside the King had been guilty of oppression
and bloodshed. If the King had violated the rights of
his subjects, — the rights of royalty, equally ancient,
equally by law established, equally necessary to the
maintenance of pubhc liberty, had also been violated,
attacked, and invaded. He had engaged in war ; but
in his own defence. No one was ignorant that, at
the time when he determined on wai', it was being
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 25
prepared against him, in order to compel him, after
all his concessions, to deliver np the rights and the
power which he still retained, — the last remnants of the
legal government of the country. And now that the
King was conquered, he was judged and condemned
without law, and contrary to all law, for acts which no
law had ever contemplated or characterised as crimes,
which the conscience of neither King nor people had
ever thought of considering as subject to the juris-
diction of men, and punishable by their hands. What
indignation, what universal horror, would have been
felt if the meanest subject of the realm had been thus
treated, and put to death for crimes defined after the
execution of the sentence, by pretended judges, for-
merly his enemies, now his rivals, and about to be his
heirs ! And that which no one would have dared to do
to the obscurest Englishman, was clone to the King of
England — to the supreme head of the Church as well
as of the State — to the representative and the symbol
of authority, order, law, justice, — indeed, everything
wliich, in human society, approaches and suggests
the idea of the attributes of Gfocl !
There is no fanaticism, however blind, and no pohcy,
however perverse, wliich, at the moment of their
triumph, have not beheld the appearance, m the
ranks of their own pai'ty, of some starthng admonition,
some solemn and unexpected protest of the human
conscience. Two Republicans, one of whom was
on the list of the King's judges, and both of whom
were amongst the most illustrious members of the
national party, Vane and Sidney, from conscientious
26 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
scruples, or from prudence, refused to take any part in
the trial, and left London that they might not even
witness it. And when the sovereign authority, the
House of Commons, nominated the Eepublican Council
of State, out of the forty-one members of whom it was
composed, twenty -two absolutely refused to take the
oath which contained an approval of the sentence of
the King ; and the regicide Republicans, with Crom-
well at their head, were obliged to accept as their col-
leagues men who would not, on any terms, pass for
their accomplices.
The new Government met at first with only passive
resistance ; but it met with this universally.
Six out of the twelve principal judges absolutely
refused to continue to discharge the duties of their
office, and the other six only consented to sit on con-
dition that they should continue to administer justice
according to the ancient laws of the country. The
Eepublican Parliament acceded to their conditions.
Orders had been issued that the Commonwealth should
be proclaimed in the City of London. The Lord Mayor
refused to do so : he was dismissed and imprisoned.
But, notwithstanding the election of a new Lord
Mayor, three months elapsed before the proclamation
was attempted; and when at length it took place,
several of the aldermen absented themselves from the
ceremony. Troops were called in to keep order, but
even this precaution did not completely suffice to repress
the insults of the populace. The Common Council
of the City was reorganized ; many of the members
elected refused to sit, and it was found necessary to
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 27
diminish the number which legally constituted a
quorum. It was even thought that the Government
would be obhged to abolish the franchises of the City.
When the Republican coinage was about to be struck,
the Master of the Mint declared that he would have no
hand in the matter, and resigned his office.
An oath of fidelity to the Commonwealth, couched in
as simple and inoflfensive terms as possible, was admi-
nistered to all civil functionaries and beneficed clergy-
men. Thousands tlu-ew up their ofiices or livings
rather than take it. More than a year after the esta-
blishment of the Commonwealth, the Assembly of the
Presbyterian Clergy, which met in London, formally
declared that the oath ought not to be taken. It was
imposed on the Universities of. Oxford and Cambridge,
and the most eminent members of those corporations,
both professors and heads of houses, relinquished their
appointments.
Orders were given throughout all England for
effacing from public buildings and monuments the
insignia of royalty. It was carried into effect in
scarcely any locality. It was renewed several times,
without any better success ; and the Eepublic, after
it had existed for more than two years, found itself
compelled to reiterate the same injunction in all parts
of the country, and to charge the various parishes with
the responsibihty and expenses of its execution.
Finally, it was not until nearly two years after the
condemnation of the King, that the Eepubhcan Parlia-
ment dared formally to vote that the authors, judges,
and executors of that action, had done their duty,
28
PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
thereby approving the whole proceeding, and ordering
its insertion on the journals of the House.
Never did a people, conquered by a revolutionary
faction, and submitting without insurrection to its
defeat, more clearly refuse to give its conquerors its
adhesion and co-operation.
The passive resistance of the country to the govern-
ment of the Republic, was soon augmented by the
attacks of its avowed enemies.
The first proceeded from the Eepublicans themselves.
In the seventeenth century, as in the nineteenth, this
name included ideas, designs, and parties of a pro-
foundly different character. Behind the political
reformers came the reformers of social order, and
behind them, the destroyers of all order and of all
society. To the passions and pretensions of religious
fanaticism and fierce democracy, which became more
blind and unbridled in proportion to the meanness of
the social condition of their advocates, the Republic of
Sidney and of Milton was not sufficient. The Levellers
arose — the Communists appeared. The Republic had
hardly existed six months, and yet, in the neighbour-
hood of London and the Parhament, four insurrections
of sectarian soldiers, provoked and sustained by a
ceaseless succession of pamphlets, sermons, and popular
processions, had revealed its internal dissensions, and
endangered the stability of its Government.
The Royalist party was more slow to revolt. Its
continual defeats, the execution of the King, the
violent compression with which it was kept down,
had thrown it into a state of stupor. The dissensions
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 29
of its conquerors, and tlie evident ill-will of the people
towards the new Grovernment, soon restored it to life
and hope. In two years, seven conspiracies and insur-
rections, set on foot either by pure or by Presbyterian
Royahsts, both of whom were equally hostile to the
Eepublic, proved to its leaders that, in putting the
King to death, they had not slain the empire of King-
ship.
A secret understanding was soon established between
the Royalist conspirators and the Republican plotters,
between the Cavaliers and the Levellers. They con-
spired in concert. A common hatred sm-mounts all
minor differences of opinion.
And whilst England was struggling in this furious
anarchy, Scotland and Ireland, both royalist, though
with different motives and from different feehngs,
openly rejected the Republic, proclaimed Charles Stuart
king, invited and received, on their soil and at their
head, the one Charles himself, the other his represen-
tatives, and engaged in a war for his restoration.
In this dislocation of the three kingdoms, — in the
midst of these opposing, yet united, plots, which were
only defeated to be revived, and which by turns raised
and cast down, in every part of the country, the hopes
and the fears, the ambitions and the intrigues, of all
parties, — the bonds of society became relaxed, and the
sinews of power speedily gave way. In county or pa-
rochial administrations, in local or general finances, in
public employments, in private fortunes, in all tlie
relations of civil life, there was an end to order and
security. On the highways, in the neighbourhood of
30 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
towns, thieves and robbers appeared in great numbers,
going about in gangs, justifying their crimes by their
political passions, asking those whom they stopped,
whether or not they had taken the oath of fidelity to
the Republic, and maltreating or releasing them ac-
cording to their answer. To disperse these marauders
it was necessary to station troops at various points,
and to keep several regiments of cavalry continually in
motion ; and these means of repression, although ener-
getically applied, succeeded only very imperfectly, for
the disorganization of society gave birth to more dis-
orders than the republican government was able to put
down.
Assailed by so many and such pressing dangers, the
leaders of the republican Parliament did not relax in
their exertions. They possessed the energy and the
perseverance — some of faith, others of selfishness ; their
noblest hopes and their most vulgar interests, their
honour and existence, were staked on their enterprise.
They devoted themselves to it with determined corn-age,
but, to insure its triumph, they blindly employed those
vicious means which may temporarily save a cause, but
must eventually ruin it.
From the very outset, they carried political tyranny
almost to its last limits ; for they decreed that whoever,
in the course of the civil war, had embraced the cause
of the King, or had proved himself hostile to the Par-
liament, could neither be elected a member of the Par-
liament, nor occupy any office of importance in the
State. And shortly afterwards, the same disability
was extended to every municipal function, and even to
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 31
the simple right of voting at elections : thus placing,
with a single stroke, all the adversaries of the Re-
public in the condition of Helots, excluded from the
possession of any rights or any political existence in
their own country.
The oath of fidelity had, at first, been exacted only
from civil or ecclesiastical functionaries, and their
refusal had entailed no other consecjuence than the loss
of their offices. The great number of refusals irritated
and disquieted the conquerors. To gratify their irrita-
tion, and in the vain hope of freeing* themselves from
thefr disquietude, they imposed the oath on every Eng-
lishman of eighteen years old and upwards ; and who-
ever refused to take it was no longer allowed to appear
before a court of justice even in support of his own
interests ; so that political dissent entailed civil disa-
bility.
Sequestration and confiscation of property were em-
ployed against the vanquished with the most intoler-
able and revolting injustice ; by no fixed or general prin-
ciple, but by partial and fluctuating measures, which
were alternately aggravated or extenuated, to suit the
exigencies of the moment, the avidity of a powerful
enemy, or some unforeseen circumstance ; and by lists
of names, sometimes very extended, sometimes very
limited and arbitrary ; so that none of those who felt
themselves in danger could know beforehand, or with
any certainty, what was his position, and what would
be his fate.
Since the cessation of the war, one weapon only
remained to the vanquished, whether Eoyalists or
32 PRELTMINAKY ESSAY ON
Levellers, — publicity l)y means of tlie press. They
used it boldly, as the dominant party had previously
done, during the whole course of their struggle with
the King. They might reasonably think they had a
right to do so ; for Mr. Mabbott, the last censor under
the monarchy, had given in his resignation, through
a desire to act no longer as an instrument in perpetu-
ating «iuch an abuse ; and Milton, the first secretary
of the republican Council of State, had eloquently
asserted the liberty of the press, as an essential right of
a free people, 't'he Republican Government did not
appoint any new censor ; but it passed a law with
regard to the use of the press, with which the most
anxious vigilance might be contented. Four cities
alone in England — London, York, Oxford, and Cam-
bridge — were allowed the privilege of printing. No
newspaper or periodical work could appear without the
permission of the Government ; printers were com-
pelled to find sureties ; and not only were those who
had taken part in any seditious pubhcation prosecuted
and punished, but every purchaser of a seditious
writing incurred a fine if he did not, within twenty-
four hours, give up the work to the nearest magistrate,
and inform him of its dangerous character.
One liberty at least, namely, liberty of conscience,
might have been expected to meet with a better fate
under the Commonwealth. At the very origin of the
contest, the republican sectaries had inscribed it on their
standard. Not only had they found it necessary to
claim it for themselves, but their principles imperiously
demanded it, for they rejected all general and compul-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 33
scry government of the Church, and recognized the
right of each separate congregation to govern itself.
But by one of the most sad perversities of our nature,
human inconsistency, in matters of conscience and
faith, displays itself most fully, precisely where it is
most iniquitous and offensive. The very party — the
very men who, for half a century, had devoted them-
selves, with admirable constancy, to the cause of
religious liberty, and who looked upon this liberty as
the only true basis of Cliristian society — these very
men, having attained to power, absolutely deprived of
all religious freedom three great classes of persons, the
Catholics, the Episcopalians, and the Freethinkers.
To the persecution of the Catholics no bounds were
set. Their faith and worship were rigorously pro-
scribed : the laymen were punished with civil disability
and the confiscation of their property ; the priests with
imprisonment, exile, and even death. The Protestant
Episcopalian Church, which had been overthrown and
dispersed by the Presbyterian Parliament, found its
hardships increased under the Pepubhcan Parhament ;
upon her the Sectaries had to satiate their vengeance
and distrust ; and they went so far as to interdict, even
in private families, the presence of her ministers, and
the use of her liturgy and prayers. As for the Free-
thinkers, who were more numerous at this time than
is commonly imagined, — if any one were met with who,
through imprudence or hatred of all hypocrisy, boldly
expressed liis thoughts, he was prosecuted, imprisoned,
excluded from Parliament, deprived of even the most
obscure employment. The Presbyterians, as enemies
VOL. I. D
34 PRELIMINAllY ESSAY ON
of the Episcopalians,, enjoyed a certain kind of tolera-
tion ; but it was limited, always precarious, and often
disturbed by tbe suspicions or violence of tlie Sectaries,
who equally disliked their ecclesiastical organization
and their leaning towards monarchy. In vain did
some men of generous minds, in the Republican Par-
liament, strive to diminish this excessive severity :
they soon felt and admitted their weakness. Religious
liberty really existed, under the Commonwealth, only
for those victorious and republican sects whose union
in the same political cause led them to forget or
tolerate their disagreements in matters of faith.
To defend and maintain a pohtical tyranny of
such extent and severity, a judicial tyranny was
indispensable. The Republican Parhament exercised
this unscrupulously. The trial of the King — that
monstrous derogation from all the principles and forms
of justice — became the model of political prosecutions.
To punish the mutinies of the Levelling soldiers,
martial law sufficed ; but when a royalist insurrection
or conspiracy was discovered, a High Court of Justice,
the members of which were nominated by the Parlia-
ment itself, was immediately instituted — a true Special
Commission, which was bound by none of the rules of
the law, and afforded the accused none of its guaran-
tees. Lest the perusal of its proceedings should excite
the anger or the compassion of the country, their
publication was absolutely interdicted. These courts
were made use of, not only to condemn the important
men who were brought under tlieir jurisdiction, but
also to punish obscure individuals who could not well
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 35
have been tried elsewhere. Before the proclamation
of the Republic, some of the Thames boatmen had
demanded that peace should be made with the King.
After his execution, the Parliament sent their petition,
with their names, to the new High Court which had
just been estabhshed for the purpose of trying five of
the royalist leaders : thus striking the humble with
terror, whilst it erected a scaffold for the great. Some-
times these High Courts could not be employed, as
they would have occasioned too much public feeling,
too much ostentation, or too much delay. The Re-
pubhcan Parhament itself acted as judge in such
cases, inflicting, by a vote, enormous fines, the pillory,
or exile, sometimes for the purpose of crushing a
powerful enemy, sometimes to serve the passions or
conceal the faults of one of its own leaders. Wlien
no other means could be found for prosecuting and
condemning men whom they feared — those early poli-
tical reformers, whom the Republicans could conquer
only by expelling them from Parliament — they were
arbitrarily detained, and confined in remote prisons.
The Cavaliers, Catholics, soldiers of fortune, and all
suspected persons, were banished indiscriminately from
London. And if any Royalist writer, instead of con-
spiring in secret, loudly denounced to the country, by
means of the press, the real or supposed misdeeds of
the Repubhcan leaders, he was arrested and tlu'own
into the Tower, where he was left to die untried.
So much oppression, in the midst of so much anar-
chy, seemed all the more odious and intolerable,
because it proceeded from men who had just before
D 2
36 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
exacted so much from the King, and promised so
much themselves, in the name of liberty — from men a
large number of whom were previously unknown and
obscm'e, who rose from those ranks of society among
which the people were not accustomed to seek their
rulers, and who had no other title to the empire
which they so violently exercised but their personal
merit — a title contested until it has raised itself
above all comparison — and the physical force wliich
they had at their disposal — a title which offends and
ahenates even those who submit to it, so long as their
conqueror has not completely subdued and debased them.
Notwithstanding the double intoxication of power
and of danger, many of the Republican leaders were
instinctively conscious of their position, and of the
feehngs of the jDublic towards them. All-powerful as
they were, they felt themselves isolated, and often dis-
dained. No power can tranquillize a man in isolation,
or render him insensible to disdain. They ardently
desired to acquire other titles to power than civil war
and regicide, and to raise themselves, by some great
national action, • to the level of their fortune. They
privately contemplated and matured many alterations
in the civil law, the administration of justice, and
taxation ; but the most important, of very doubtful
merit in themselves, were at once rejected by the most
considerable men of the party, on the plea that, far
from exalting the Republic, they would tend only to
sink it yet deeper into the ranks of the Levellers and
Sectaries. Evidently, no measure of internal govern-
ment could serve the pui'pose of the Republican leaders.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 37
Their attention was, therefore, turned abroad. Few
efforts were needed, and no risk was incurred, in main-
taining, in their relations with foreign powers, the
dignity and interests of their country. The time of
wars on behalf of religious belief had ended ; the period
of wars in support of political ideas had not yet arrived.
None of the great European Grovernments, though all
detested the new Republic, thought of attacking it;
all, on the contrary, sought its friendship, either to
prevent it from joining their rivals, or to obtain its
alliance against them. Simple neutrality assured peace
to England, entire independence as regarded its internal
affairs, and great influence in the affairs of the Conti-
nent. The leaders of the Republican Parliament
wanted more than this. They were in presence of
three powerful States — France, Spain, and Holland :
the first two were Catholic and Monarchical, natural
enemies, more or less avowedly or secretly, of the new
Republic ; the last was Protestant and Republican,
drawn towards England by all the sympatliies of faith
and liberty. An idea arose, and rapidly gained ground,
in these bold and agitated minds. Wli}^ should not
Holland and England unite in one single and great
Republic, which would soon cause their common poli-
tical and rehgious principles to predominate in Europe ?
There was something in this to charm the most pious,
and to occupy the most ambitious. What gratitude
would not the English people feel towards the men
who had thus increased their greatness, — who had thus
gratified at once their conscience and their vanity ! At
this price the monarchy would be forgotten, the Com-
38 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
monwealtli would be lastingly established, and the
Eepublican Parliament would become a Senate of
Kings.
The scheme was attempted. The Eepubhcan leaders
entered into it most heartily ; some used indirect in-
fluences to propagate the idea in every direction ; others
engaged in solemn embassies, and endeavoured to lay
the foundations of future miion between the two na-
tions. But the dreams of revolutions are still vainer
in regard to the external relations than to the internal
government of the State. It pleased the Enghsh Ee-
publicans to forget that, in this fusion, the Republic of
Holland w^ould be absorbed by the Republic of England,
and that the former would not be very hkely to consent
to such an absorption. The Dutch Republicans would
not even hear it hinted at. Tried by a century of
laborious success, they were too proud to sacrifice their
country, and too prudent to link their destiny, to this
Utopia of a young and tottering Repubhc. Fui'ther,
the cause of the Enghsh Royalists was viewed with
favour in Holland, not only by the House of Orange,
but also by a large number of the people, whose justice
and good sense revolted at the murder of Charles I.,
and the follies committed by the Sectaries. The just
pride of Holland dispelled in an instant the chimera
which the ambitious pride of the Enghsh Parliament
had engendered. But such attempts are not made
with impunity, even if they fail of their object. From
this resulted deep distrust and jealousy between the
two nations, who were already naturally rivals ; and
between their chiefs, wounded self-love and bitter
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 39
dislike. A war speedily ensued; so that the grand
diplomatic conceptions of the Protestant and Repub-
Hcan ParHament of England ended in a rupture and
violent conflict with the only Protestant and Eepub-
lican State among its neighbours on the Continent.
Thus, abroad as well as at home, the EngHsh Ee-
publicans, by the system of policy which they pursued,
lamentably and effectually behed their ideas and hopes.
They had promised liberty ; they practised tyranny.
They had promised union and triumph to the cause of
Protestantism in Em'ope ; they produced warfare
amongst its adlierents.
In vain did this Government continue to exist, gain
battles, and overcome its enemies : it did not consolidate
itself. In the midst of success and general submission,
the Commonwealth and its leaders daily sank lower and
loAver in pubhc estimation.
A man, the principal author of the death of Charles I.
and of the establishment of the Commonwealth — Crom-
well — had foreseen this result, and now prepared to
profit by it. The King dead, and the Repubhc pro-
claimed, a prodigious, though natural, change took
place in Cromwell. Actuated hitherto, by his passions
as a sectary and by his ambition, to resist the ene-
mies of his faith and the obstacles to his fortune, he
had zealously apphed himself to their destruction. As
soon as the work of destruction was consummated,
another necessity presented itself to his mind. The
Revolution was effected ; a government must be recon-
stituted. Providence, which rarely gives to one man
a double power, had qualified Cromwell for performing
40 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
both these parts. The Eevolutionist disappeared — the
Dictator took his place.
At the same time that his sound and vigorous mind
was struck by this pressing necessity of the new condi-
tion of the country, Cromwell perceived that the
government which it was proposed to estabhsh could
not succeed ; that neither the institutions nor the men
were suited to the times. In the institutions there
was no unity, no stability, no vitality ; intestine war
and permanent uncertainty would ever exist at the
seat of power. The men were influenced by narrow
or chimerical views, mean or blind passions ; the revo-
lutionary struggle would be perpetuated between the
governing power and the country. As rulers, the Re-
publican Parhament and its leaders were soon measured
and condemned by the good sense of Cromwell. A
strong and regular government could never proceed
from such a source.
Thenceforward one thouo-ht filled Cromwell's mind.
He was careful to associate himself neither with the
policy nor the destiny of these institutions and these
men ; to keep himself aloof from their faults and
reverses ; to separate from the Parhament, whilst he
served it.
But separation was not enough ; he must increase
his power whilst others grew feeble. Cromwell foresaw
tlie downfal of the Parliament and of its leaders ; de-
termined not to fall with them, he aspired to elevate
himself in their place.
Men who are great in action do not entirely de-
termine on their plan of procedure by anticipation.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 41
Tlieir genius lies in their instinct and ambition.
Every day, in every circumstance, they see things as
they really are. They perceive the course which cir-
cumstances point out, and the opportunities which
that coui'se presents. They enter upon it earnestly,
and march onwards, always guided by the same light,
so long as a path opens before them. Cromwell
marched on to the dictatorship without clearly know-
ing to what he should attain, or what it would cost ;
but he still went on.
He desired some occupation, which would isolate and
remove him from the ruling power : such an occupation
was offered him by the Parliament of its own free will.
In London, Cromwell incommoded and disquieted the
rulers. They requested him to take the command
of the army intended for the subjugation of Ireland,
which had risen up in arms for Charles Stuart, or,
rather, against the Parliament. Cromwell required
great pressing. Much had to be granted him : first
for liis friends, his patronage of whom was zealous and
munificent; then for himself, as he insisted on large
and certain means of success, well-provided troops,
brilliant honours^ and uncontested authority. All his
wishes were gratified, so urgent were they to get rid
of him. His departure was solemn and magnificent.
Many sermons were preached, and prayers were ofiered
to God for his success, which was predicted on all
hands. Cromwell himself spoke and prayed in public,
seeking and finding in the Bible allusions full of
encouragement with regard to the war he was about
to wage. He left London accompanied by a numerous
42 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
retinue, and with a brilliant staff of officers. At
Bristol, whence he embarked, the people flocked from the
surrounding' country to see liim. He neglected nothing,
and nothing was wanting, to excite the attention and
engage the minds of the people, at the moment that
he was withdrawing himself from their sight.
His object was to gain England by vanquishing
Ireland. He was there in presence of a hostile race
and rehgion — the one despised, the other detested, by
the Enghsh people. He carried on a war of extermi-
nation, massacring, pillaging, expelling the Irish ;
hesitating as little at cruelty in the camp as at false-
hood in the Parliament, covering all by the plea of
necessity, and wilhng to believe in its vahdity, so that
he might more quickly arrive at success.
The splendour of his victories and the renown of his
name soon disquieted the Parhament. Cromwell was
the all-absorbing theme of conversation ; the people
spoke of him with unbounded admiration, and able
men discussed his conduct and future career. In Scot-
land, at the moment that he left to join the army in
Ireland, the report spread that he intended to lead it,
not against Dubhn, but against Edinburgh, and the
whole population were thrown into consternation.
Others affirmed that, on his return from Ireland, he
intended to quit England and go to Prance — in what
capacity or with what object was ahke unknown.
Pamphlets were seized, entitled, *' The Character of
King Cromwell." He had attained tliat point of
celebrity at which the most frivolous circumstances,
tlie slic^htest movements, in connexion with a man on
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 43
the way to greatness, passionately excite the curiosity
of the people and the solicitude of his rivals. The
Parliamentary leaders thought they could take advan-
tage of his having led his army into winter quarters
at Dublin to recall him to London. He did not obey,
did not even answer, the summons ; but speedily
resumed the campaign, pm^sued his work of destruction
in Ireland, and finally consented to return to England,
only when the exposure of the Commonwealth to fresh
and most pressing dangers, opened to himself new
prospects of independence and aggrandizement.
Scotland had recalled Charles Stuart. Republicanism
and Monarchy were again about to meet as foes. The
Commonwealth stood in need of a tried champion
against the King. The Parliament endeavoured to ob-
tain two such ; Fairfax and Cromwell. Fairfax refused.
The Parliament nominated Cromwell alone ; reluctant,
but compelled, for the preservation of the Common-
wealth, to give him another kingdom to conquer.
Cromwell waged war and conducted himself in Scot-
land on a totally different plan to that which he had
pursued in Ireland. He was just as moderate, patient,
and conciliatory towards the Scotch Protestants, as he
had been violent, harsh, and unmerciful towards the
Irish Catholics. On every side of the royalist party in
Scotland, and even in its very ranks, there were deep
dissensions ; many of the Presbyterians were more
fanatical than royalist, and served the King with infi-
nite distrust, and under strict conditions ; while the
Sectaries were as ardent and democratic as the Eno-lish
Sectaries, full of sympathy for Cromwell and his soldiers.
44 PRKEIJMINAY ESSAY ON
and more disposed to assist than to figlit tliem. Crom-
well took advantage of this state of things, and, while
anxious to engage with the royal army, was full of
consideration for the country, made separate treaties
with the chiefs whom he knew were undecided or
inclined towards him ; entered into correspondence, into
conference, into religious controversy with the Scottish
theologians, — well skilled to please, and leaving a deep
and favourable impression of himself where he did not
manage to convince or conciliate. He thus advanced
into Scotland, gaining ground every day by his arms
and his arguments, and detaching from the King
counties, towns, and chieftains. Charles felt that he
was hard pressed, hemmed in, and in imminent danger.
With the impetuosity of youth he formed a sudden,
splendid, and desperate resolution ; he put himself,
with liis whole army, rapidly in march towards Eng-
land, Icjaving Scotland to Cromwell, and determined to
try the fortune of royalty in the heart of the Republic.
Not a month had elapsed from the time when
Charles and the Scottish army had first set foot upon
English ground, before Cromwell, had reached, con-
quered, and dispersed them at Worcester, where
Charles had just been proclaimed King. Charles
wandered from hiding-jDlace to hiding-place, in various
disguises, seeking a ship to convey liim away from
England; and Cromwell returned in triumph to London,
welcomed by the members of Parliament, by the State
Council, by the Common Council of the City, and by
an immense crowd, who all united in proclaiming him
their deliverer.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 45
The joy which succeeds great fear suppresses for a
moment all jealousy and hatred. The Parhament
loaded Cromwell with favours ; voted him a large
grant of land ; assigned him Hampton Court Palace
for his residence ; and even the most distrustful
lavished on him marks of gratitude and deference.
The enthusiasm of the republican people was more
sincere and more valuable. Those revolutions which
have overthrown ancient dignities are always anxious
and proud to create new ones. It is their security, it
is their pride, to consecrate their power in glorious
images ; and it seems to them that they thus make
reparation to the society which they have defrauded.
Hence arises that instinct which, in spite of democratic
passions, urges popular parties to those pompous de-
monstrations, those unmeasured flatteries, and that
idolatry of language with which they delight to in-
toxicate the great men whom they behold ascending
upon the ruins wliich they have made. Sectaries and
philosophers, citizens and soldiers, Parliament and
people, — all, wiUingly or from compulsion, united to
magnify Cromwell, as though they magnified them-
selves with him ; and the republicans of the City of
London, who came before him to harangue him on
his return within their walls, rejoiced in telling him,
" You were destined to bind kings with chains, and
nobles with fetters of iron." Blind that they were, not
to perceive that these fetters would soon be fixed upon
themselves !
Cromwell received this homage and these dignities
vdth a humility which, though assumed, was not alto-
40 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
gether destitute of sincerity. " To God alone belongs
the glory," said lie repeatedly : " I am only his weak
and unworthy instrument." He knew how well this
language was adapted to please his country and his
party. He exaggerated and reiterated it over and
over again, to humour the men whose confidence and
devotedness he thus increased. But it was also the
expression of his own deep-seated convictions. God,
His power. His providence, His continual action in
the affairs of the world, and upon the souls of men —
these were not, in Cromwell's eyes, lifeless abstractions
or antiquated traditions ; they were most earnestly
beheved by Mm. His faith was not very consistent
or influential, as it neither governed nor restrained his
actions in the temptations of Hfe and under the neces-
sities of success, but it subsisted in the inmost recesses
of his soul, and inspired his words when the import-
ance of an event or of his own position strongly affected
him. Besides, it is not a hard task to speak humbly
and to call oneself the instrument of God, when God
makes His instrument the master of a nation. Neither
the power nor the pride of Cromwell was at all di-
minished by his humility.
Thus, as he rose in importance, did his ambition
increase and soar above his position. Although his
language was so humble, assumptions of sovereignty
sometimes appeared in his conduct. On the battle-
field of Worcester he proposed, with his own hand, to
confer the honour of knighthood on two of his bravest
generals, Lambert and Fleetwood, and angrily aban-
doned his intention on being told that this was a pre-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 47
rogative of royalty. On the day on which he returned
in triumph to London, in the midst of the acclamations
of the populace, his countenance wore such an expres-
sion upon the road, that Hugh Peters, the sectarian
preacher, a man who knew him well, observed on seeing
him pass, " Cromwell will make himself King." He
had just saved the Commonwealth, and brought two
kingdoms into submission to its sway. No great work
remained for liim to do at a distance, and by force
of arms. He remained in London, powerful and quiet,
incessantly visited by his officers and soldiers, the centre
of all discontents and of all hopes. The republican
Parliament, on the other hand, had become a mutilated
assembly, in which scarcely sixty or eighty members
daily sat ; some few seriously and honestly devoted
themselves to public affairs, the state of the navy, the
war with Holland, and the projected reform of the
laws ; but the greater part remained little in their
greatness, the slaves of paltry passions and disgraceful
interests, monopolizing public employments for them-
selves or their relatives, rendering their power subser-
vient to their fortune, their hatreds, and their paltry
quarrels ; a faction which increased in egotism, iso-
lation, and unpopularity — which gave to the country
neither rest, nor liberty, nor settlement, but which,
nevertheless, was resolved to retain the supreme power ;
as if the safety of England depended upon the exist-
ence of so miserable a Government.
Cromwell hesitated and waited long. At the
moment of his triumph, on resuming his seat in Par-
liament, he had commenced the struggle. Two great
48 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
and popular questions were his weapons of attack —
a general amiiesty, which should declare that the civil
war was at an end, and an electoral law which should
regulate the method and fix the time for assembling
a new Parhament. These two measures had been
long proposed : but they had remained buried in com-
mittees, and were only dragged out of their obscurity
to lull popular clamour at critical seasons. By the
influence of Cromwell, they were seriously brought
forward and discussed. The amnesty was reluctantly
voted at the end of five months, after numerous at-
tempts at restrictions (especially of a pecuniary nature),
which were always successfully opposed by Cromwell
himself, who was too sensible to give way to any use-
less animosity, and was desirous of gaining clients
and personal friends in all parties. But the decisive
measure, the electoral law, remained in suspense.
Cromwell urged its consideration, but with no great
earnestness, and rather to exhibit the stubborn ego-
tism of the Parliamentary leaders than to bring it
promptly to a final issue. He was himself very
much perplexed. By what plausible means could he
constrain the Parhament to dissolve? What would
be the result of fresh elections ? And would fresh
elections suffice to restore and establish the Govern-
ment ? Had the experiment of the Republic succeeded ?
Was not the Monarchy more in conformity with the
laws, the customs, the feelings, and the permanent
interests of the country? If its restoration were de-
sired and needed, how should it be restored ? — and in
what measure ? — and what Monarchy ? Cromwell put
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 49
these questions not only in his private conversations
with a few important men, but also in the conferences
in which he brought together the officers of the army
and the members of Parliament. The result did not
give him satisfaction : the officers persisted in remain-
ing Republicans ; the politicians who were inclined to
a Monarchy would admit of no other than the old
one, and advised Cromwell to negociate its re-esta-
blishment. He then broke off the conversation, to
return to the charge at some future opportunity ; ap-
parently supple, but really indomitable in his ambition ;
frank even to temerity when anxious to lead men to
engage in his plans ; deceitful even to effrontery when
he wished to conceal them. He always derived from
these intrigues the advantage of compromising the
army more and more in his struggle with the Parlia-
ment. The sectarian spirit was still powerful in the
army, and the military spirit had become strongly
developed also. The passions of the fanatic and the
interests of the soldier combined with and sustained
each other mutually. Cromwell was unremitting in
his endeavours to excite them against the Parliament.
What an iniquity it was that the wages of the con-
querors should be so ill paid, and that men who had
neither fought nor suffered should alone reap the fruits
of victory ! Wliat an insult to God it was that the
counsels of his saints were so little heeded ! Petitions,
presented by the General Council of Officers, in the
name of the army, haughtily demanded the payment
of their arrears, the reformation of the abuses of the
Government, and the satisfaction of the hopes of the
VOL. I. E
50 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
people of Grod. The threatened Parliament defended
itself, became irritated, and attempted to retahate. It
pressed the disbanding of a considerable portion of the
army ; it put up for sale that very palace of Hampton
Court which it had assigned to Cromwell for a resi-
dence. This state of things continued for eighteen
months. Both parties felt that a crisis was ap-
proaching. Wlio would triumph ? Suddenly the Par-
liament resolved on hastening that dissolution of itself
which was desired. It entered into an earnest dis-
cussion of, and voted, the electoral law. But this law
was precisely intended to retain the supreme power in
those very hands from which it ought to be with-
drawn. The actual members of the EepubHcan Par-
liament remained, without re-election, members of
the new Parliament. The elections were intended to
fill up the vacancies in the Assembly, and complete the
total number fixed by the law; and that nothing
might be wanting to the security of the combination,
the old members alone were to form the committee
appointed to investigate the new elections, and to
admit or reject the elected.
This was not a dissolution of the Parliament ; it was
only giving it a new lease. Cromwell no longer hesi-
tated. Abruptly breaking off a conference of officers
assembled at his house at Whitehall, he proceeded to
the House of Commons, silently took his seat in the
midst of the debate, and at the moment when the
electoral law was about to be put to the vote, he sud-
denly rose, and, with refined brutality, profiting by the
discredit into which the leaders of the Parliament had
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 51
fallen, to load them with the gi'ossest insults, and,
grossly insulting them, to vilify them still more, he
told them that they were no longer of any use — drove
them from the Hall, as intruders too long tolerated, by
a company of soldiers, and thus suddenly put an end
to the Long Parliament.
No one resisted, no one raised his voice in remon-
strance : not but that the expelled Parliament had
friends, ardent and faitliful, although few in number ;
but they had against them brute force and public
opinion. All other parties, whether they approved
this act of Cromwell or not, rejoiced in it as an act of
justice and dehverance. Intimidated or impotent, the
vanquished silently submitted ; and those revolutionary
leaders who had, for nine years, carried on civil war,
expelled three-fourths of their colleagues from Parlia-
ment, condemned their King to death, and tyrannically
changed the constitution of their country, were now
forced to admit that the government of a nation is an
infinitely greater and more difficult task than they had
imagined it to be before they themselves sank under it.
The Republic had been estabhshed in the name of
liberty; but, under the government of the Republican
Parhament, hberty had been nought but a vain word,
covering the tyranny of a faction. After the expulsion
of the Parhament, the Republic, in its turn, became a
vain word, retained like a falsehood which is still useful,
though it has ceased to deceive, and the despotism of
a single individual was, for five years, the government
of England.
Despotism, in a powerful nation, which has taken
E 2
52 PRELTMINARY ESSAY ON
refuge in it in a fit of perplexity or lassitude, can sub-
sist only on two conditions — order and greatness.
Cromwell, having obtained the mastery, displayed aU
the resources of his genius to make these the charac-
teristics of his government. A stranger to the jealous
passions, the narrow and inflexible prejudices which
influence the rule of faction, he was anxious that all,
without distinction of origin or part}^ Cavaliers and
Presbyterians as well as Republicans, provided they ab-
stained from political intrigues, should find protection
and security, as far as regarded the interests of civil life.
The law which imposed the oath of fidelity on every
English subject, under pain of civil disability, was
abrogated. The administration of justice became once
more regular and habitually impartial. Cromwell, as
a revolutionary general, had contrived to obtain infor-
mation and adherents from all parties. Cromwell, as
Protector of the Commonwealth, strove to rally round
his Government the higher classes of society. Too sen-
sible to destroy his own power and give himself over to
his enemies, a superior instinct admonished him, at the
same time, that so long as the ruling power is not ac-
cepted and sustained by the men who are its natural
alHes, by their position, their interests, and their habits,
nothing can be completely arranged or solidly esta-
blished. This fiery leader of popular innovators proved
himself to be full of respect for those institutions which
time had consecrated. In their aversion to polite learn-
ing, and aristocratic or royal foundations, the Sectaries
wished to destroy the Universities of Oxford and Cam-
bridge. Cromwell saved them. Great by nature, and
T!IE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 53
now great by position, he speedily acquired a taste for
everything that is elevated and great by tradition, by
intellect, by learning, and by renown. He felt an
interest in attracting such towards him, and dehghted
in protecting it against mean and vulgar animosities.
And in carrying out this policy — in maintaining order
and the laws for the benefit of all — in universally
restoring authority and respect — he employed that
same army with which he had overthrown so many
ancient dignities ; though its rigid discipline and entire
devotedness to him hardly sufficed to repress, even
imperfectly, the vehement passions of former days.
In the foreign relations of England, Cromwell, free
from the trammels of party, was guided by juster views
with regard to the interests of his country and his own
position, and obtained a much more complete success.
Peace was the basis of his policy. Upon his acces-
sion to power, he set to work to restore or insure it
everywhere — with Holland, Portugal, and Denmark.
Laying aside those dreams of Republican and Protestant
fusion which he had himself so lately conceived or
fomented, and forgetting all religious and party ani-
mosities ; anxious to settle disputes, to adjust differ-
ences ; sometimes susceptible and haughty, that he
might well establish the dignity of his young govern-
ment, but always sensible, making no extravagant
demands, and entertaining no chimerical ambition, he
sought abroad nothing that was not indispensable to
his essential interest, the security and authority of
his power at home.
Consequently, when peace was once obtained, the
54 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
second basis of his policy was neutrality. In Europe,
it was then the crisis of the struggle between the
House of Austria and the House of Bourbon — between
declining Spain and rapidly-ascending France. Both
made earnest and sometimes disgraceful efforts to draw
Eno-land into their alliance. Cromwell listened to
both, giving to each just enough hope to enable him
to obtain from them what was important to his govern-
ment, but embarking in neither cause. All circum-
stances carefully considered, he judged that, on the
side of Spain, he had less to hope, less to fear, and
much more to gain. He contemplated giving to the
power and commerce of England a firm foundation in
the New World. He broke the neutrality ; but with so
much tact and caution, that, whilst his war with Spain
secured him beyond seas the conquest of Jamaica, he
gained, by his alliance with France, the possession of
Dunkirk, one of the keys of the European Continent,
and yet did not take a sufficiently active part in the
conflict between the two powers to compromise the
independence of the foreign policy of his country.
It was the constant character of that policy, under
his government, to be neither systematic nor violent,
and not to meddle with the aflairs of others more than
his own really required. The Stuarts had taken refuge
in France. The court treated them with favour,
although timidly. The attempts at civil war made by
the Fronde disturbed the kingdom. The Protestants
were kept in a state of mieasiness and discontent, if not
of persecution. The opportunity seemed favom-able,
and the temptation was strong, for Cromwell to inter-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 55
fere against his enemies, and in behalf of the religious
and political cause which had raised him to greatness.
The Prince of Conde, the leader of the insurgents, and
the city of Bordeaux, their stronghold, earnestly
besought him to do so ; and sent envoys to him, with
urg-ent entreaties and offers, to obtain his assistance.
Cromwell received them, gave them reason to hope,
sent in his turn ag-ents into France to sound the inten-
tions and ascertain the strength of the Protestants and
Frondeurs, and thus greatly disquieted Mazarin ; then,
finding that the French malcontents had no real
strength, no able guidance, no chance of success, he
dismissed every desire of ambition and passion, de-
clined the offers he had received, quenched the hopes
he had awakened, and entered into a treaty with
Mazarin, turning to his own account the alarm which
his previous conduct had caused that statesman.
When a less tempting, though less dangerous, op-
portunity presented itself elsewhere for sustaining
oppressed Protestantism, Cromwell eagerly seized it.
To protect against the Duke of Savoy some poor pea-
sants who had been expelled from their native valleys,
he multiphed declarations, embassies, subsidies of
money, and threats ; called on the court of France to
interfere, unless it wished that he should interfere
himself; induced the United Provinces and the Swiss
Cantons to unite in his proceedings ; obtained Ms end
by the mere agitation he had excited ; and thus gave
extraordinary satisfaction to the religious sentiments
of England, without entangling it in a costly and
doubtful contest.
56 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
Whenever important, though secondary, Enghsh
interests were at stake, demanding protection or repa-
ration, Cromwell gave them energetic support, whilst
he carefully kept them separate from general and excit-
ing questions. He sent Admu-al Blake into the Medi-
terranean with a strong squadron, with orders to sail
wherever England had any claims or complaints to
make ; and Blake presented himself successively before
Leghorn, Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli, arranging the
various disputes that had arisen, without exaggerating
their importance, and never retiring until he had ob-
tained, voluntarily or forcibly, redress of the grievances
of his country.
So many efforts and successes were not without their
fruit ; but they did not effect the real and ultimate object
of the conqueror. This government, which was so active
without temerity — so skilled in flattering the national
passions without servility ; which abroad increased the
importance of the country without compromising its
safety, and maintained order at home with the soldiers
of revolution, produced only this effect — Cromwell was
obeyed, feared, and admired, but did not estabhsh him-
self in the affections of the people. England submitted
to his genius and his power, but did not accept liis do-
minion. Consummate in the art of drawing men over to
his side, he daily detached adherents from the old par-
ties, inducing them sometimes to serve him actively,
sometimes to cease acting as his enemies. He obtained,
in as great a degree as it has ever been obtained by
any other ruler of nations, all that support which good
sense, weariness, personal interest, weakness, cowardice,
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTIOIS. 57
baseness, and treason can give to power ; but the old
parties still continued to exist — Cavaliers, Presbyte-
rians, and Eepublicans — subdued yet vigorous, and
devoid neither of hope nor activity. During the
course of the five years that Cromwell ruled, and
without mentioning a multitude of obscure plots,
fifteen conspiracies and insurrections, originated by
Eoyalists, or Eepublicans, or both, placed his govern-
ment in peril or his life in danger. He repressed
them energetically, without cruelty and without pity ;
rigorous or merciful according to circumstances ; pro-
ceeding sometimes legally and sometimes despotically ;
employing juries and High Courts of Justice, an inde-
fatigable poHce and a devoted army, secret arrests and
pubHc executions, banishment and imprisonment ; sell-
ing the vanquished insurgents for slaves in the colonies ;
and resorting to every expedient that he thought likely
to strike his enemies with impotence or with terror.
Nothing succeeded against him ; every plot was de-
feated and every insurrection quelled. The country
took no part in them, and remained quiet, though it
beheved neither in the rightfulness nor in the perma-
nency of this ever-conquering power. Cromwell did
not reign in the minds of men as a recognised and
definitive sovereign. At the height of his power he
was nothing more, in the opinion of the people, than
an irresistible but temporary master, without a rival,
but without stabihty.
He himself saw this more clearly than any one else.
It was the great feature of his character to see all things,
even his own position, as they really were. Never was a
58 PRELIMINARY ES8AY ON
great man more alive to hope and more free from
illusion.
Wliilst overthrowing constitutional monarchy, he
had learned that it was the only form of government
that was suited to England, and could permanently
exist. Once master of the ruins of the edifice, a
constant thought took possession of his mind — to
restore the constitution, and place himself at its head.
It was his desire and constant endeavour to have a
Parliament which would help him to govern. He
convoked four Parliaments in five years, sometimes
choosing, in concert with his officers, the assembly
which he hypocritically denominated by that name ;
sometimes causing it to be elected according to the
new system, which the republican Long ParHament
was on the point of adopting when he drove it from
power ; always treating these assembhes, at their com-
mencement, with great solemnity and deference; using,
for the purpose of obtaining a majority on his own side,
the most disgraceful artifices and the most unheard-of
violence ; and careful, at the very moment that he
broke with them, not to give them reason to imagine
that he wished to dispense with their co-operation.
The enterprise itself was chimerical. The Poyalists
did not enter into his Parliaments. The Presbyterians
constituted a very small minority. The difiierent frac-
tions of the Eepublican party formed almost the only
members, and these were deeply irritated and at va-
riance with one another. Cromwell's partisans were
ill adapted to triumph by Parliamentary tactics and
discussion. His enemies, much more skilled in this
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 59
species of warfare, displayed all their resources to do
him injury. He found himself there in presence of the
men whom he had dethroned, — men sincerely hostile to
his tyranny, obstinate in their anarchical ideas and
habits, and as ungovernable as incapable of governing.
He himself furnished them, at every instant, with new
grievances and fresh weapons, for he had not learnt, on
becoming the absolute master, to respect rights and to
endure resistance and contradiction. Taught by his
great instinct, that, in his despotic isolation, he was
establishing nothing, not even his own power, he
summoned a Parliament to assist him in the formation
of a diu'able government; but when the Parliament
came together, deprived of the natural strength of the
conservative party, and ruled by men who were able
only to destroy, Cromwell soon could endure neither
their freedom nor their foolish bhndness, and broke the
instrument which he felt was necessary, but which it
irritated him to find always unmanageable.
Once he thought that he had at last succeeded in
collecting together a Parliament that would under-
stand and carry out his plans. He hastened to make
known to it the idea which filled his mind, — the com-
plete restoration of the Enghsh monarchy, a King
and two Houses of Parliament. The proposition was
made and discussed in the Parhament, and publicly
negociated for more than two months between the
Parliament and the Protector. Cromwell displayed in
the negociation that strange amalgamation of ardour
and reserve, of vast ability and gross hypocrisy, which
he had derived at once from art and nature. His pru-
60 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
dence was almost equal to liis ambition. He did not
wisli to ascend the throne at the cost of a schism in
his party, the already narrow and tottering basis of his
government. He desired to become King without
exposing the Protector to danger. Not only must
the crown be offered him, but all the important men
by whom he was surrounded, sectaries and politicians,
officers and magistrates, must be equally decided and
implicated in offering it to him. Long ago, before the
institution of the Protectorate, before the expulsion of
the Long Parliament, he had sounded and prepared
them for this occurrence. Now that he was engaged
in the final attempt, his efforts to influence them were
infinite and indefatigable ; sometimes directly, some-
times indirectly, he appealed in turn to their interest,
their friendship, and their reason ; he strove to make
them understand that the new institutions which they
had created, and their positions as well as his own,
must remain feeble and precarious so long as they
were not grafted upon that frame of government on
which all the laws of England were founded, and with
which all its habits of obedience and respect were con-
nected. He persuaded, or influenced, or bribed, so
many persons, even among the staunchest republican
officers, that he had reason to believe, and actually did
believe, liimself certain of success. The proposition was
carried in the Parliament. The crown was officially
offered him. He deferred his answer. He wished to
overcome all remaining opposition. It was in his
immediate circle, among the generals who were most
closely attached to his person, that lie now met with
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 01
opposition. It was insurmountable, founded on true
republican feeling, on sliame at thus belying tlieir
whole previous lives, and on the rancour of humi-
liated rivals. Cromwell flattered himself that, after
all, this was only the humour of a few men. He had
determined to take no notice of it, and to place upon
his head that crown which had been put into his
hands, when he learned that, at that very hour, a
petition, drawn up by one of his chaplains, and signed
by a large number of officers, was being solemnly
presented to Parhament, in the name of the army,
urging them to fidelity to the good old cause, and
opposing the restoration of royalty. Cromwell imme-
diately summoned the Parliament to Whitehall, and,
expressing surprise that a protest had thus been en-
tered against his answer before it had been given,
formally refused the title of King.
It was in vain that, enlightened by his genius as to
the inherent defects of his authority, he strove to esta-
blish it on foundations consecrated by law and by anti-
quity. Grod was not willing that the same man who had
caused the execution of the King, and trampled under
foot the liberties of the country, should receive the
honours and rewards wliich would accrue from the re-
establishment of Kingship and a Parliament. Power-
ful to repress anarchy, CromweU, while struggling
against the difficulties of his situation, constantly
fell into despotism. He had restored impartiality in
the administration of affairs ; and yet, pressed by the
imperative necessity of supplying the expenses of his
government, he subjected all the Koyalists to the
63 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
most iniquitous exactions, and placed the whole
country under the rule of military tyranny, as the
only means of enforcing them. He gloried in having
restored regularity and dignity to the administration
of justice ; nevertheless, when illustrious advocates
defended prisoners against his prosecutions, and
upright magistrates refused to violate the laws by con-
demning them, he maltreated, dismissed, and im-
prisoned both advocates and magistrates, with an
arbitrariness^ unexampled even in the worst times of
despotism. To attempt to restore legal monarchy
without renouncing revolutionary violence was too
ambitious a design. Cromwell already enjoyed a
rare privilege, — he had passed from the revolution to
the Dictatorship ; but he was not permitted to trans-
form the Dictatorship into a government of justice
and of liberty.
But his prudence in this perilous trial was not
altogether lost. He had not paused until the last
moment ; but he had paused then. England, which
had seen him retreat, and the Eepublicans who had
compelled him to do so, still needed and feared him.
His position remained unaltered ; and the Protector
was none the less powerful because he had failed to
make himself King. He did not, however, abandon
his design. He even took measures for securing the
assembling of a new Parliament ; doubtless promising
himself that, as he had already overcome the Parlia-
ment by means of the army, so he would one day
overcome the army by the Parliament. But the hand
which was to overcome himself already weighed heavily
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 63
upon him. His health had been for some time im-
paired. Family calamities — the death of a beloved
daughter — aggravated his disease. He wasted away
rapidly. He did not wish to die. All the trials he had
passed through successfully, all the great things that he
had already done and that he had yet to do, the neces-
sity of his presence, the power of his will — every thing-
combined to persuade him that he had not yet reached
the end of his life. To his most intimate and con-
fidential friends he said, " I am sure I shall not die
to-day ; I know that Grod will not have me die yet."
God had intended Cromwell to be a striking example
of what a great man can do, and of what he cannot do.
His destiny was accomplished. By his genius alone
he had rendered himself the master of his country and
of the revolution he had effected in his country : he
remained, to the last moment of his life, in the full
possession of his greatness ; and he died, unsuccessfully
wasting his genius and his power in an attempt to
restore what he had destroyed — a Parliament and a
King.
In the anarchy which followed his death, England
enjoyed one of those rare advantages of fortune, of
which it is hard to say whether they proceed from
God alone, or are partly brought about by human
wisdom. The anarchy had no factitious, nor incom-
plete, nor precipitate conclusion. All the ambitions,
all the pretensions, all the elements of chaos and
political strife, which Cromwell had held in check,
reappeared tumidtuously upon that scene which he
alone had lately filled. His son Richard was pro-
64 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
claimed Protector without opposition, and recognised
without hesitation by the various foreign powers.
But scarcely had he attempted to govern, before a
crowd of councillors gathered around him, who soon
became his enemies and rivals. These were the
Council-General of Officers ; a new and more popular
Council of the Army ; a new Parliament, which Eichard
hastened to convoke ; the old mutilated Long Parlia-
ment (or, as the people called it, the Rump Parlia-
ment), which declared that to it alone belonged the
legitimate power, because it had received from Charles
I., that King whom it had put to death, the right to
continue sitting until it should be dissolved by its own
act ; and, lastly, the original Long Parliament, recruited
by the members whom it had expelled from its body
before the death of the King, and who were now forced
to resume their seats. All these phantoms aspired to
replace the master spirit who lately had cowed them
all; and England beheld them, during more than
twenty months, appear, disappear, reappear confusedly,
evoking or expelling one another, coalescing and fight-
ing by turns, wliile not one of them possessed for a
single day the consistency and force of a government.
And during tliis interregnum of twenty months, in
the midst of this ridiculous contest of chimerical
pretenders, that competitor alone did not appear
who was, in the opinion of all England, either from
hope or fear, the only one whose claims were of
any importance. One or two insignificant move-
ments, wliich merely demanded the convocation of a
free Parliament, and in which the name of Charles
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. ()5
Stuart was not even mentioned, were attempted l)y
his partisans, and immediately repressed without effort.
It was the memory of Cromwell which still kept
the Eoyalist party in fear and inaction. He had so
frequently defeated their hopes, and so severely
punished their insurrections and conspiracies, that
they no longer dared to expect any success. Besides,
their continued reverses had taught them good sense.
They had learned not to measure their strength hy
their desires ; and to understand that, if Charles Stuart
were to regain the crowTi, it could only he restored to
him hy the general consent and action of the people
of England, and not by an insuiTection of Cavaliers.
Eichard Cromwell himself desired and purposed to
put an end to the general agony, as well as to his own,
by treating with the King. He was wanting neither
in sense nor honesty, though he possessed neither
ambition nor greatness of soul. He had taken his
share in the destiny of his father with feelings of sub-
mission rather than of confidence. As far as he was
personally concerned, he did not believe in the recur-
rence of equal success, and did not feel himself capable
of bearing such a burden. But, on the other hand, lie
was incapable of forming a decided resolution in refer-
ence to such mighty interests. He was vacillating
and weak, overwhelmed .with debt, and anxious to
escape from his precarious position. He remained the
puppet of a fortune, the vanity of which he felt, and
the instrument of men less sensible than himself.
The crisis was at hand. All the powers, all the
men that had either effected the Eevolution, or been
VOL. I. F
6G PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
elevated by it, had been put to proof again and
again. No external obstacle, no national resistance,
shackled them in their attempts at government. Not
one, hovv^ever, had succeeded. They had destroyed
each other. They had all exhausted, in these fruitless
contests, the little credit and strength they had been
able to preserve. Their nullity was patent. Never-
theless, England remained at their mercy. The
nation had lost, in these long and lamentable alterna-
tions of anarchy and despotism, the habit of ruling,
and the courage to rule, its own destinies. Cromwell's
army still existed, incapable of creating a Government,
but overthrowing all those that did not please it. A
man of the army, who stood high in the esteem and
confidence of the soldiery — who was a stranger to
political parties, and who had faithfully served the
Parliament, Cromwell, and even Eichard Cromwell at
his accession — Monk, foresaw what would be the
necessary termination of this anarchy, and undertook
to conduct his wearied country to the goal without a
conflict or a convulsion. He was distinguished by
no great quality, except good sense and courage ; he
had no thirst for glory, no craving after power; he
possessed no high principles, and entertained no lofty
designs, either for his country or for himself ; but he
had a profound aversion to disorder, and to those
unrestrained iniquities which popular parties cover
with fair professions. He was attached, without osten-
tation, but with devotedness and modesty, to his
duties as a soldier and an Englishman. He was no
cliarlatan, no deckiimer, but discreet even to taciturnity.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. G7
and absolutely indifferent to falsehood. He lied, with
imperturbable audacity and patience, to bring about
what he considered to be the only essential interest of
England, namely, the pacific restoration of the only
Grovernment that could be stable and regular. All
things else were, in his eyes, doubtful questions and
party disputes. He succeeded in his design. All the
fractions of the great monarchical party suspended
their ancient animosities, their blind impatience, and
their conflicting pretensions, in order to support him.
The Restoration took place as a natural and unavoidable
event, without costing either victors or vanquished a
drop of blood ; and Charles II., re-entering London in
the midst of immense acclamations, could say with
truth : " It is certainly my fault that I did not come
back before, for I have seen nobody to-day who did not
protest that he had always wished for my return."
Never did Government, old, new, or restored, find
itself in a position of greater regularity, strength, and
stability.
Charles II. was re-established on his throne without
assistance from abroad, without a struggle at home,
without any efibrt even of his own party, — by the mere
reaction of the English nation, which was now at
length dehvered from oppression, anarchy, and revolu-
tionary fluctuations, and which expected from him
alone the restoration of legal order and security.
The monarchy was re-established after the complete
exhaustion and the definitive ruin of its enemies and
its rivals. The Commonwealth and the Protectorate
had appeared and reappeared under all the forms, and
F 2
6S PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
in all the combinations, that they could possibly
assume. All the powers, all the institutions that had
issued from the Revolution, were effete and despised.
The battle-field was deserted — even the phantoms of the
revolutionary combatants and pretenders had vanished.
And not only was royalty again established, but, at
the same time that the King reascended his throne,
the great landed proprietors, the country gentlemen,
and all those influential citizens who had supported the
royahst cause, resumed their places in the government
of the country. The Republic and Cromwell had shut
them out from all share in the administration of public
affairs, tlirough dislike of their persons and principles.
By resuming their former stations, they filled up a great
gap in the social organization of the land. It is the
common error of revolutionists to beheve that they will
be able to replace all that they destroy, and that they
can supply all the wants of the State. The English
republicans had aboHshed the House of Lords, and
driven the royalist party from the political arena ;
but they succeeded neither in filling their places
themselves, nor in sustaining authority against the
ppirit of anarchy, nor in maintaining the liberties of
the nation against despotism. At the same time that
it raised up hereditary monarchy, the Restoration ren-
dered back their rank and influence to landed property,
family traditions, and the most ancient and distin-
guished portion of the territorial aristocracy of t\\e
country. Authority thus regained at once its principle
of stability and its natural allies ; and political societ}',
which for eleven years had been flijctuating and muti-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 69
lated, recovered all its strength, and stood once more
upon its ancient foundations.
The government of rehgious society, the Episcopal
Church, was restored at the same time with royalty.
Certainly, the origin of the Anglican Church, which
was called into existence by the voice, and brought
up under the shadow, of the temporal power, has
been a great source of weakness to her, when compared
with the purely spiritual origin and the strong indepen-
dence of the Catholic Church. But from this weakness
England has derived the great advantage, that all con-
tests between the government of the Church and that
of the State have ceased. The Anglican Church, closely
united to the throne, and deriving from it her primitive
strength, has been constantly and loyally devoted to it ;
and, notwithstanding the stains on her origin, and the
infirmities of her conduct, she has been wanting neither
in fervency of faith, purity of life, nor courage and
success in the accomplishment of her mission. She has
had her heroes and her martyrs, unflinching on the
scaffold and at the stake, though often weak and com-
plaisant towards kings. When she was re-established,
in 1660, together with Charles II., she had just under-
gone, during a period of fifteen years, all sorts of
revolutionary persecution, spoliation, the suppression
of her worship, insult, imprisonment, poverty. She
had endured aU with dignity and constancy ; she rose
again, greeted by the ardent devotion of the royalist
party, and the general respect of the people. She
placed at the service of royalty an approved fidelity,
and an authority increased by her misfortunes.
70 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
The dispositions of the EngHsh people corresponded
with those of the Church ; not that the sects which she
had long oppressed, and which had recently oppressed
her in their turn, ceased to be ardently opposed to her ;
not that the odious or ridiculous excesses of fanaticism
and hypocrisy everywhere gave place to a wise and
true piety. A reaction of impiety, of frivolity, of
licentiousness, and of cynicism, was not long in deve-
loping itself. But it rarely penetrated below the
higher and more superficial regions of society. In the
midst of the scandals of the court and of the classes
not far removed from the contagion of its example,
England remained full of sincere and fervent Chris-
tians : some attached or brought back to the Anglican
Church by a recollection of the evils, and an aversion
to the disorders, which her fall had entailed ; others
belonging to the dissenting sects which the Church
began again to persecute, with cruelty enough to in-
flame their zeal, but not to terminate their existence.
But, notwithstanding their mutual struggles and aver-
sions, the Church and the Dissenters exercised a
salutary influence upon each other ; they reciprocally
excited or renewed within each other a respect of God
and of his laws, a constant solicitude for the eternal
interests of man, and greater fervour and activity of
faith.
Thus, in the mass of the population, there was no
want of a moral foundation for the restored monarchy :
and the King found about the throne, among the classes
whose habits of hfe draw tliem near to power, that
political support of whicli he stood in need.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 71
Two formidable enemies, the spirit of revolution and
the spirit of reaction, alone could neutralize so many
propitious circumstances, and compromise the monarchy
afresh.
The spirit of revolution long survives its defeat, even
after its impotence has been fully proved. Of the two
revolutionary parties which had swayed England, the
Eepublic and Cromwell, the latter disappeared so com-
pletely that the sons of the Protector were able to die
in peace and quietness in their own country. The
republican party continued to exist, without attempting
anything, almost without hoping anything, for its own
cause ; but ardently mingled in all the disaffections
and plots against the established Government ; and
incessantly furnished insurgents and martj'^rs from
among the persecuted sects, especially in Scotland.
Even among the parties whose opposition was legal,
and who were strangers to every republican regret and
desire, revolutionary ideas and habits retained a power-
ful influence ; the minds of the most enlightened were
imbued with theories, and their hearts susceptible of
passions, incompatible with the patient struggles and
necessary compromises of constitutional monarchy : the
most moderate considered the chances, and ventured to
the verge of new revolutions with a facility inconsistent
with all legal order and stability. The revolutionary
poison, deadened, but not destroyed, still circulated in
the veins of a great part of the English nation, and
kept it in a state of political intemperance which was
replete with obstacles and dangers to the ruling power.
The spirit of reaction, that disease of conquering
72 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
parties, lent powerful assistance to the spirit of revolu-
tion ; not that we must admit all the reproaches with
which history loads the Cavahers and the Church of
England on this score. Revolutions which have been
long unsubdued, when at length arrested m their course,
have the arrogance to demand that the miquities which
they have committed shall remain unchanged, and that
their conquerors shall content themselves henceforth
with repressing their power to do further mischief;
every reparation of the evils they have caused, they call
reaction. Amongst the measures adopted by Charles II.
for the purpose of redressing the wrongs which the
royahsts, both laymen and ecclesiastics, had suffered
during the Revolution, many were merely a natural and
necessary restoration of violated rights. But these
restorations have limits indicated by good sense to the
pohcy of governments, and to the interest of the parties
themselves. Injustice cannot be repaired by injustice ;
revolutions cannot be terminated by deeds of provoca-
tion and vengeance. Every reparation that assumes
such a character loses its justice, and become a serious
danger to the cause that it pretends to serve. Under
Charles II., the rehgious reaction, especially, fell into
these deplorable excesses ; it was not the mere redress
of the grievances and misfortunes of the Anglican
Church; it was a vindictive persecution of the dis-
senting sects — a breach of faith towards the most
moderate of those sects, to whom the King, at the
moment of his return, had solemnly promised liberty
of conscience. Charles on several occasions attempted
to keep his word, and to secure the Dissenters some
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 73
toleration. Persecution was repugnant to his good
sense, to the kindness of his disposition, to his in-
difference in matters of rehgion, and to his secret incli-
nation in favour of the Catholics. But his feehle and
listless desires for justice soon yielded to the obstinacy
of ecclesiastical animosities, and the turbulence of
popular passions. Blinded or overpowered, almost all
the Eoyalist party, both in and out of Parhament,
took a share in the work of persecution. After 1660
the lay reaction was brief and hmited ; the religious
reaction, though temporarily restrained, soon burst
forth with violence, continued increasing in severity,
and caused most of the dangers and faults, and, I
might add, the crimes, into which Charles II. and
his Grovernment fell.
But these faults and dangers, although serious and
lamentable, really contained nothing that vitally
menaced the security of monarchy and society in
England. Taking a general view of affairs, the spirit
of revolution no longer possessed, and the spirit of
reaction did not govern, England. Ever since the
great revolutionary crisis of 1640-1660, the English
people have had this good fortime and this merit, that
they have profited by experience, and never given
themselves up to extreme parties. In the midst of
the most ardent pohtical struggles, and even of the
violences into which they have sometimes followed,
and sometimes forced, their leaders, they have always,
in critical and decisive circumstances, been guided by
that strong good sense which consists in recognising
the good things wliich it is essential to preserve, and
74 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
invariably defending them ; in bearing the inconve-
niences by which they are accompanied, or renouncing
any desires which might endanger them. Ever since
the reign of Charles II. this good sense, which is the
political intelligence of free peoples, has presided over
the destinies of England. Three great results, as yet
confused and incomplete, but irrevocable and sufficient
for the wishes and welfare of the English nation,
survived the revolution through which it had just
passed.
In the first place, the King could never again sepa-
rate himself from the Parliament. The cause of mo-
narchy was gained ; but that of absolute monarchy
was lost. Theologians and philosophers, Hke Filmer
and Hobbes, might advocate the dogma, or maintain
the principle, of absolute power ; and their ideas, as ex-
pressed in books or private conversations, might obtain
the favour or excite the anger of speculative tliinkers
or pohtical partisans. In the practical opinion of the
nation, the question was settled ; royahsts and revolu-
tionists alike looked upon the close union and the
mutual control of the Crown and the Parliament, as
both right and necessary to the country.
Secondly, the House of Commons was, in fact, made
preponderant in the Parliament. The question of its
direct sovereignty was no longer mooted, but con-
demned and decried as a revolutionary principle. The
Crown and the House of Lords had resumed possession
of their rights and their rank ; but they had been
too thoroughly conquered and humiliated to regain
their ancient superiority, even after the fall of their
THE ENGLISH llEVOLUTION. 75
enemies : and neither the faults nor the reverses of
the House of Commons could entirely obhterate the
recollection of its terrible victories. The royalist
party, which now had the mastery, inherited the
essential conquests of the Long ParUament, in its
relations to the Crown and the administration of the
State. The confusion was necessarily long, and fre-
quently violent, before the different parties, Wliigs
and Tories, Government and Opposition, learned to
make a good use of these conquests ; to understand
their real meaning and extent ; and to maintain,
between the great powers of the State, that laborious
harmony which is at once the merit and the diffi-
culty of constitutional government. But throughout
the trials of this apprenticesliip, and notwithstanding
the frequent occurrence of opposing appearances or
forms, the preponderant influence of the House of
Commons in public affiiirs, was, from the reign of
Charles II., a fact which daily became more and more
evident and unmistakable.
Side by side with, or rather above, these two political
facts, we may place that religious fact which was con-
summated by the Revolution — I mean the complete
and definitive triumph of protestantism in England.
Never, certainly, had the English Protestants been
more fiercely at variance ; and Bossuet might reason-
ably indulge m the supreme pleasure of contemplat-
ing and depicting their divisions and contests. But
the unity of a common faith and passion continued to
animate these divergent sects : in the midst of their
own quarrels, they all professed the same Gospel, and
7 6 PRELIMINAUY ESSAY ON
combated Catholicism with the same zeal ; and liberty
of conscience, though incessantly disregarded and sup-
pressed by them and among them, was, as against the
Church of Rome, equally dear to all, and inahenably
acquired by all.
These were, after all, the only concessions which the
English nation demanded of that ancient monarchy,
whose return it hailed with such transport ; for it
was determined patiently to overlook the faults of
any Grovernment which should preserve it from new
revolutions, and secure to it these three results of the
revolution through which it had just passed.
But this was precisely what neither Charles II. nor
James II. was able or willing to accomphsh.
In politics, Charles II. was too sensible and too
indifferent to assume or exercise absolute power. He
cared for nothing but his pleasure, loved power only
because it enabled him the better to enjoy life, and
willingly consented to concessions and compromises to
escape the dangers of extreme struggles, or to spare
himself the annoyance of them. But in his heart,
absolute monarchy alone possessed his esteem and
suited his taste. He had been not only a witness,
but a victim of the defect^ and inconveniences of the
institutions of his country ; and he had closely con-
templated the splendour of the com-t of Louis XIV.,
and the strength of his government. These had ob-
tained his admiration and confidence ; and hence arose
his proneness to fall into venal dependence upon
Louis XIV., whom he regarded as the leader of the
kings' party, and consequently did not feel all the
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. //
shame which ought to have overwhelmed him wlien
he betrayed to him for gold the policy and liberties
of his country.
In religion, Charles was at once a sceptic and a
Catholic, believing in nothing, and as corrupt in mind
as in manners ; but he thought that, after all, if there
were any truth in religion, that truth was to be found
in the Catholic Church, which afforded kings the
greatest security against the perils of power, and
most surely preserved men from those of eternity.
Thus, althougli during liis Hfe he did not act as an
absolute and Catholic sovereign, Charles was in his
heart a Catholic and an absolutist, who sympathised
with the kings of the Continent, and not with the
faith and policy of the nation over which he ruled.
James II. was a Catholic and an absolutist from
conviction, and his conduct was consistent with his
creed ; nay more, he was blindly enterprising, with all
the obstinacy of a narrow and barren mind, and the
harshness of a cold and insensible heart.
Such were the two princes whom the Restoration
bestowed on the English nation, which joyfully hailed
the return of monarchy and cursed the revolution, but
instinctively resolved not to surrender its great results.
The history of England, during the whole course of
the Restoration, is nothing but the history of the deep-
seated discord which, though slowly developed, broke
out at length between these two kings and their
people ; and of the persevering efforts made by the
English nation to escape from the consequences of this
discord — namel}^ a new revolution.
78 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
For England, during this epoch, was essentially con-
servative. Ardent factions and selfish ambition agi-
tated the country by their intrigues, their plots, and
their insurrections; and she was more than once led
by their efforts, or by her own passions, into move-
ments which were apparently revolutionary. But far
from seconding the men who sought to overtlirow the
monarchy of the Stuarts, she paused and retreated as
soon as she perceived that she was tending thither-
wards. The conspirators and insurgents who appeared
during the reign of Charles II. were only minorities
at variance with the country, even when it seemed to
favour them. As the restored monarch committed
greater faults and allowed his tendencies and designs
to become more clearly perceptible, the pubhc discon-
tent increased, and the chances of a rupture between
the prince and the country became stronger ; but the
country, instead- of availing itself of those chances,
struggled to evade them. To maintain the house of
Stuart upon the throne, without abandoning its laws
or its faith, the English nation, during a period of
twenty-six years, made all the sacrifices and efforts
that the most patient and persevering conservatism
could require.
All the phases through which the English Govern-
ment passed during this epoch, the conduct and destiny
of all the parties and ministries which then exercised
the supreme power, were but different forms and
striking proofs of tliis great fact.
By the natural tendency of things, the old
lloyalist party, the faithful counsellors of Charles I.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 79
during his misfortunes, and of Charles II. in his
exile, were the first who obtained possession of power.
Clarendon was their leader — a man of strong, upright,
and penetrating mind ; a sincere friend of legal and
moral order ; courageously attached to the constitution
of his country, and passionately devoted to her Church;
full of respect for the written or traditional rights of
the people, as well as of the monarch, but detesting
the Revolution to such a degree, that he regarded every
novelty with suspicion and antipathy. As Prime
Mmister he was more haughty than high-minded ; he
was devoid of largeness of thought and sympathetic
generosity of character ; and he ostentatiously paraded
his greatness, whilst he rigorously exercised his power.
Towards the King, who regarded him with esteem,
confidence, and some degree of attachment, he was,
by turns, austere and humble ; passing from remon-
strance to complaisance ; speaking and maintaining
the truth like an honest man, but uneasy at having
spoken it ; and seeking for support against the Court,
without venturing to obtain his strength from the Par-
liament. His aim was to make the Crown respect
the ancient laws of the country, and to keep the
House of Commons within the limits of its ancient
sphere of action ; and he flattered himself that it
would be possible to restrain the royal prerogative
within the bounds of legality, without imposing upon
it any necessary responsibility towards the Parhament.
He failed in this chimerical attempt to establish, in
a country just emerging from a revolution, a govern-
ment which should be neither arbitrary nor limited ;
so PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
and he fell, after seven years of preponderance, hated
by the Commons for his monarchical arrogance, by the
dissenting sects for his Episcopalian intolerance, and
by the Court for his disdainful severity ; pursued by
the blind anger of the people, who laid to his charge
every public calamity, as well as all the abuses of power;
and disgracefully abandoned by the King, who looked
upon him only as an inconvenient censor and a com-
promising minister.
The fall of Clarendon has been attributed to the
defects in his character, and to certain faults or fail-
ures in his policy, both at home and abroad. To judge
thus is to underrate the greatness of the causes which
decide the fate of eminent men. Providence, which
imposes on them a task so difficult, does not treat
them with such stern severity as not to pardon them a
few weaknesses ; neither does it lightly overthrow
them because they have committed particular errors,
and met with certain failures. Other great ministers
— Richelieu, Mazarin, Walpole — have had defects,
committed faults, and suff'ered defeats as grave as
those of Clarendon. But they understood their time ;
the views and efforts of their policy were in har-
mony with its necessities, and with the general state
and tendency of the public mind. Clarendon, on the
contrary, misunderstood the age in which he lived ; he
mistook the meaning of the great events in which he
had borne a part ; he considered the occurrences of
1040-1000 as a mere revolt, after suppressing which
nothing remained to be done but to re-establish order
and the laws — not as a revolution wliich, b}' plunging
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 8l
English society into fatal errors, had guided it into
new paths and imposed new rules of conduct on the
restored monarchy. Among the great results which
this revolution, even though vanquished, had be-
queathed to England, Clarendon accepted the necessary
sanction of Parhament with sincerity, and the triumph
of Protestantism with joy. But he obstinately rejected
and opposed the growing influence of the House of
Commons in the government of the country, and
would neither recognise nor practise the means by
which this new political element might be made con-
ducive to the security and strength of the monarchy.
This was one of those errors for which neither the
rarest talents nor the most distinguished virtues can
atone, and which, in the pitiless destiny of public
men, give a fatal effect to faults or failures which,
under other circumstances, would be of little or no
importance.
After the honest counsellors of the late King came
the profligates of the new court, with Buckingham
and Shaftesbury at their head ; the one licentious,
witty, frivolous, and presumptuous ; the other ambi-
tious, crafty, and bold; both equally corrupt and well
versed in the art of corrupting ; both ready to go
over from the Court to the multitude, and from the
Government to the Opposition, whenever such conduct
would replenish their coffers or gratify their vanity.
They undertook to give satisfaction to the Parliament,
to the Dissenters, and to all the popular feehngs which
the stern and isolated pohcy of Clarendon had irritated.
But a desire to please and willingness to yield are not
VOL. I. G
82 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
sufficient to insure the stability of a government.
The rash and immoral successors of Clarendon had no
suspicion of the embarrassments and dangers they
were about to bring upon the government and on
themselves, by making the House of Commons their
main support. In order that a popular assembly
may be an habitual means of strong and regular go-
vernment, it must itself be strongly organized and
governed ; and this can only be the case so long as it
contains great parties united by common principles,
and proceeding with order and regularity, under re-
cognised leaders, towards a determinate object. Now,
such parties can be formed and kept in being only when
powerful interests, and firm and lasting convictions,
rally and retain men together. A certain amount of faith
in ideas, and of fidelity towards persons, is the vital
condition of great political parties, just as great political
parties are a necessary condition of free government.
Nothing of this kind existed, or was Hkely to be called
into existence, under Charles II., when the Ministry,
called the Cabal, attempted to govern in concert with
the House of Commons, and according to its wishes.
After so many convulsions and miscalculations, especially
in the regions which were nearest to power, men were a
prey to doubt and distrust, to continual indecision, and
to a spirit of personality which was sometimes shame-
lessly impatient, and sometimes pusillanimously pru-
dent. The House of Commons was filled with the
remnants of revolutionary parties ; but it contained no
political parties capable or worthy of maintaining a
government. And such men as Shaftesbmy and
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 83
Buckingham were incapable and unworthy of forming
such parties ; they knew only how to seek and gain
partisans for themselves from all camps and by all
means. Their policy was shamelessly incoherent and
contradictory ; sometimes the}^ closely united England
with Holland, sometimes they abandoned Holland to
Louis XIV., according as they happened to need
the favour of the zealous English Protestants or that
of the great French King. They granted toleration
to the Dissenters from an apparent respect for the
rights of conscience, but in reality from complaisance
to the King, who wished to j)rotect the Catholics ; and
subsequently, under the pressure of the irritated
House of Commons, they besought the King to sanc-
tion the adoption of the most rigorous measures
against both Catholics and Dissenters. Their pohcy,
both at home and abroad, was a series of experiments
and contradictions ; their most equitable measures
were only measures of corruption and deceitfuhiess,
insolently adopted or abandoned, according to circum-
stances, and equally deficient in stability and sincerity.
The public, both in and out of Parliament,
sometimes allowed itself to be duped by these arti-
fices. Nothing can equal the eagerness with which
popular passions believe everything wdiich pleases
them, and find excuses for all who serve them. The
profligate members of the Cabal obtained some tem-
porary popularity ; but it departed as quickly as it
came. Their licentious lives, the well-known cor-
ruption of their manners, the versatility of their con-
duct, and the worthlessness of their promises, shocked
G 2
84 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
the moral sense of the country, which retained, in
the midst of all these scandals and miscalculations,
a solid foundation of faith and virtue. It would,
most certainly, have done more than express its
indignation if it had known that its King, with the
connivance of his principal counsellors, had concluded
secret treaties with Louis XIV., by which he engaged
to declare himself a CathoHc as soon as he could do so
with any safety ; whilst, in the mean time, he had sold
the indej)endence of the pohcy and institutions of
his kingdom for a few millions of money. England
long remained ignorant of these disgraceful trans-
actions ; but, when distrust is deep-rooted, public
ignorance often has presentiments by which nations
are frequently misled, and sometimes marvellously
enlightened. Without knowing to how great a de-
gree the ministers of the Cabal had degraded and
betrayed their country, the House of Commons not
only refused to act with them, Ijut at length violently
attacked them ; and they fell under the blows of a
power Avhich their self-interested flattery had aggran-
dized, but without having made any progress in
organizing political parties in the Parlian;ient, or in
regulating their action in the Government.
Their successor, Sir Thomas Osborne, Earl of Danby,
possessed much more political wisdom, and exercised
much more influence upon the development of the par-
liamentary system of his country. Though he had en-
tered public life under the auspices of the ministers of
the Cabal, and had been early associated in some of their
evil practices, he differed essentially from them ; for he
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION 85
came from the country, and not from the court. A
simple Yorkshire gentleman, the country gentlemen
were truly his party, and the House of Commons his
political fatherland. He earnestly sustained the cause
of the Crown and its prerogative, but he united it
with, instead of isolating it from, the Parliament. He
applied himself by all sorts of means, good and bad, by
persuading minds and purchasing suffrages, to the
formation of a compact and permanent party in the
House of Commons, and to the estabhshment of that
intimate connection between the administration and
his party which alone can render a government strong
and efficacious, by uniting its diverse elements in
one set of opinions and one course of pohtical action.
Further, Danby understood and shared the national
feelings of England with regard to religion and foreign
policy ; he was anxious to secure the safety of Pro-
testantism, and a good understanding between the
Enghsh Government and the States that were de-
voted to that cause. He induced Charles II. first to
conclude a peace, and then an alliance with Holland,
and to give his niece Mary in marriage to Prince
Wilham of Orange. Danby thus secured abroad a
saviour of the faith and liberties of his country, whilst
he commenced the solid formation at home of that
great Crown and Church party, which, ever since that
epoch, has given such strength to the English mo-
narchy, and so powerfully contributed to its stability.
And, by a happy combination of opposite conse-
quences, whilst the good judgment and ability of
Danby were organizing the Tory party, his faults
86 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
occasioned an energetic and salutary development of
Wliig principles. To the honour of the Whigs be it
spoken, that they took their origin, and first displayed
their greatness, in the defence of the liberties and
the political morality of their country. Their party
rose into being under the invocation of generous prm-
ciples and feelings. It was in its struggles against
Danby and his army of Cavaliers, transformed into
Tories, that it began to assume its distinctive cha-
racter and dignity. These struggles were still very
disorderly and confused ; .but in them were clearly
manifested two great parliamentary parties, both of
which aspired to the government of the country, that
they might put into practice lines of pohcy really
diverse, in virtue of principles not essentially opposite,
but profoundly different.
After lasting four years, this struggle ended in the
fall of Danby — in the dissolution of that Eoyalist
Long Parliament which, for eighteen years, had up-
held the cause of monarchy, with a singular mixture
of devotedness, servility, and independence ; and in
the formation of a great Wliig ministry, in which the
leaders of the party. Temple, Kussell, Essex, HolHs,
Cavendish, and Powlet, with the aid of Halifax, the
leader of the wavering moderates, and of Shaftesbury,
the bold renegade from the court (who had now be-
come the favourite of the people), undertook to reform
and conduct the government.
The crisis was momentous. For the first time,
and in spite of the prolonged resistance of the
Crown, the Parliamentary Opposition liad obtained
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 87
possession of the supreme power, in the name of public
opinion and of a majority in the House of Commons.
Would they be able to retain and exercise it ? Would
they give satisfaction to the real wislies of the country
without shaking" the foundations of that monarchy
which their accession had disturbed.
The Wliigs did not succeed in solving this problem.
Either through want of experience, or the influence of
the false political theories with which the revolutionary
Long Parliament had been imbued, their ideas with
regard to the organizatiora^nd conditions of constitu-
tional government were confused, unpractical, uncer-
tain, and contradictory. They were actuated by
monarchical as well as republican prejudices. They
essayed to constitute the Cabinet on broad foundations,
to make it, as it were, a sort of intermediary body,
capable of restraining the Crown by means of the
Parliament, and the Parliament by means of the
Crown — an attempt which proved abortive at its
birth. They carried the spirit of opposition into the
exercise of power, and, whilst serving royalty, they
were more anxious to curb than to sustain its au-
thority.
They lived among the remnants of the anarchical
factions which had survived the Eevolution, and which
never ceased their secret attacks upon the monarchy.
Nearly a nonentity among the higher classes, the
republican party was too weak and impotent to
achieve success even amongst the masses ; but it
possessed some desperate agitators and conspirators,
ready to place their abilities and their lives at the
88 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
service of any one who would afford them, either
immediately or prospectively, some satisfaction of their
turbulent and vindictive passions. The Whigs were
constantly, if not in connivance, at least in contact,
with these professional revolutionists, whom they
wished to make their soldiers, but who, in their turn,
hoped to convert their employers into their instru-
ments, and continually compromised them, at first
with the King, and then with the country, which
was loyal though discontented, and decidedly opposed
to all fresh revolutions.
To compensate for these errors in their conduct or
these vices of their position, the Whigs had a resource
of which they made ample and deplorable use — con-
cessions to the passions of the people. England, at
this time, was possessed by a general and overpowering
terror and hatred of Popery. Warned by a legitimate
instinct that, in this respect, they had been betrayed
by their King, the English transgressed the limits of
aU reason, justice, and humanity. The political and
judicial persecution of the Catholics was, during three
years, the joint crime of a people who were furious
in their faith, and of a King who was cowardly in his
infidelity. The Whigs, as well as the Tories, shared
or yielded to this frenzy. It was, moreover, their
ill fortune to attain to power just when the first
paroxysms of the national fury against the Cathohcs
were beginning to subside, and were giving place
to a reactionary movement in favour of good sense
and impartial justice. They thus had to endure,
in greater measure than tlieir rivals, the consequences
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 89
of this reaction, and the weight of the secret anger of
the King, who took pleasure in revenging himself
on them for iniquities which he had not had the
courage to oppose.
Their position with regard to the foreign affairs of
the country was not at all less complex or more sure.
Whilst they inveighed against the servile intimacy of
the King with the Court of France, several of their
leaders received favours and pensions from Louis XIV. ;
some from corruption, for the popular party had its
profligates as well as the Gourt ; others, though men
of lofty patriotism and honour, in the chimerical hope
of employing the means of influence which they de-
rived from a foreign monarch, in securing the liber-
ties of their country. It is a dangerous attempt to look
abroad for means of acting secretly upon the internal
affairs of a country ; even the ablest politicians run a
great risk of thus serving the interests of the foreigner
rather than their own ; and Louis XIV. derived much
more advantage, in the prosecution of his policy, from
his relations with some Whig leaders, than they did
from the secret support which he afforded them in pro-
curing the overthrow of Danby, and the dissolution
of the Long Parliament of Cavaliers.
In the midst of this embarrassing and perilous situa-
tion, the Wliigs undertook to change the order of suc-
cession to the thi'one, and to exclude the legitimate
successor therefrom, by Act of Parliament. This was
anticipating a revolution, in virtue of well-founded
though remote conjectures, and before its absolute
necessity had been demonstrated by actual and evident
90 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
facts. The Whigs, doubtless, thought that, in such
a matter, it was wiser to prevent than to wait ; and
that it would be better to accomplish immediately,
by way of legal dehberation, that which would have to
be done at some future time by force, and perhaps at
the cost of a civil war : — a very superficial view of the
matter, which proves that they had but a sKght know-
ledge of human nature, and of the great conditions of
social order. It is far worse to discuss a revolution
than to effect one ; and the State is much more shaken
when its fmidamental laws are attacked, in the name
of human reason, than when they are infringed under
the pressure of necessity. The Whigs called upon the
Parhament to set aside, by its mere vote, and before
James II. had acceded to the tlu'one, his hereditary
right to the crown ; that is, in principle, to subordinate
the foundation of the monarchy to the will of the
Parliament. PubHc instinct warned England that this
would be to destroy the monarchy itself; the monar-
chical spirit was roused immediately, and the Cabinet
itself was divided. The Whigs lost all their alHes
among the more moderate Tories, and found them-
selves reduced to the mere strength of their own party.
They also found themselves in presence of an obstacle
which they had hardly expected to encounter — the con-
science of Charles II. Even that egotistical Prince did
not think he was entitled to dispose of the rights of his
brother ; and he defended them at all risks. To the
honour of the English nation, popular passion paused
before respect for lawful authority ; the Bill of Exclu-
sion, after having been adopted by the House of Com-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 91
mons, was thrown out by the Lords, and no attempt
was made to carry the matter further, and to triumph
by other means.
But the question still remained unsettled. The
House of Commons, which had voted the exclusion
of James II., was dissolved. In that wliicli suc-
ceeded it, the bill was again proposed and carried.
The two great parties which had been progressively
formed in the course of the reign were determined, the
Whigs to get rid of the future monarch, and the Tories
to maintain the monarchy intact. Charles II. also took
his resolution. He dissolved the House of Commons,
dismissed the Whig ministry, formed a cabinet of
Tories alone, and governed for four years without a
Parhament. Gloomy years were these, which England
passed in fearful anticipation of the approaching tem-
pest. Having resumed the opposition, the Whigs
conspired, in different degrees, and with different ends ;
some to regain possession of power by legal means ;
others to compel the King, if need be, by insurrection
and civil war, to yield to what they considered was
the right and the will of the country ; some few, the
inferior and desperate adherents of the party, were
anxious to get rid, at any price — even by assassination
— of the King and his brother — the only obstacles
to the success of their cause. These plots, sometimes
exaggerated, sometimes combined by an incomplete
system of pubhcity, and by trials conducted with
subtle iniquity, threw the country into distracting
uneasiness. The conservative party were indignant
and alarmed tor tlie security of the throne and of the
92 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
established order of things : the popular party became
more and more irritated at beholding the failure of
all their atten^pts, and the execution of their noblest
leaders upon the scaffold. Monarchical reaction and
destructive hostility increased together. The charters
of the towns and other principal corporations, the last
rampart of the popular party, were judicially attacked
and abolished. The conspii-ators, in their impotence
and peril, left the country, and went to Holland to
conjure the Prince of Orange to save the Protestant
faith and the liberties of England. Evidently, of
those three great results of the Revolution which
England was anxious to preserve, the two political
results — the influence of the Parliament in the
government, and the preponderance of the House of
Commons in the Parliament — were not only sus-
pended, but endangered ; the religious result — the
predominance of Protestantism — still remained intact ;
for it was the Anglican Church herself who invariably
sustained the Crown, and anathematized every attempt
at resistance. Strong in tliis support, the high
Tories, led by Rochester, daily ralHed more closely
around James, forgetting his devotion to the Catholic
Church, in order that they might see in him only
the lawful representative and inheritor of the mo-
narchy. But a third party formed around Hahfax,
opposing violent measures, demanding the convocation
of a Parliament, and predicting extreme dangers if
this course were not pursued. Charles hesitated and
delayed, promising the high Tories to persevere
resolutely in sustaining his brother's rights ; the
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 93
moderate Tories, to respect the constitution of the
country ; and the Church, firmly to maintain the
Protestant estabhshment. Perplexed and fatigued, he
employed all his remaining address and prudence in
eluding the necessity of choosing between these pro-
mises. He died before events compelled him to decide;
but, when he reached the end of his earthly career^ and
the threshold of eternal life, the disquietude of the dying
man overcame the precaution of the King ; he rejected
all the entreaties of the Anglican bishops, sent for a
Benedictine monk who was concealed in his palace,
and died in the bosom of the Catholic Church — at
his last hour confirming his country in suspicions
which he had always indignantly repudiated, and
strengthening his brother's resolution to remain a
member of that Church, out of the pale of which,
notwithstanding his sceptical indifference, Charles
himself did not dare to die.
During his reign of four years, James II. had no
other thought. He did not aspire to absolute
power from the impulses of a strong and dominant
nature, or in order to satisfy a lofty ambition, but
from an unintelligent and intractable fanaticism. The
principle which forms the basis of the constitution
of the Eomish Church, the inMlibility and in-
dependence of the supreme power, was a maxim of his
government as well as an article of his faith. In his
rigid and narrow mind, spiritual and temporal order
were blindly confounded ; and he thought himself
entitled, as a king, to exact from his subjects, in the
State, the same absolute submission which, as a
94 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
Catholic, he was himself, in the Church, bound to
yield.
Ever since his infancy, he had beheld those who
shared his faith cruelly oppressed ; and he himself had
suffered persecution on account of his faith. When
he became King, he looked upon the deliverance of
the Catholic Church in England as his peculiar duty
and mission ; and he could discover no other means
of accomplishing her deliverance than by restoring
her to dominion.
Such is the lamentable connection of human errors
and iniquities ! They evoke and engender one
another. Instead of at once recognising and respecting
their mutual rights, both Protestants and Catholics
sought only to persecute and enslave each other in
turn.
Either in the sincere hope of succeeding, or in
order to be able to shield himself from all future
reproach, James attempted at first to govern consti-
tutionally. On the very day on which he ascended
the throne, he promised to maintain the estabHshed
laws of the Church as well as of the State. Shortly
afterwards he convoked a Parliament, and solemnly
renewed to it his promises.
Some important, though isolated, actions soon belied
his professions. He contiaued to levy taxes which had
not been voted by the Parliament : and whilst, on the
one hand, to please the Anglican Church, he redoubled
the severity of the enactments against the Dissenters,
on the other, he began to suspend the execution of the
laws against the Catholics, and to make great innova-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 95
tions in the political and religious constitution of the
State.
His language caused still more disquietude than his
actions. Whilst asserting the legahty of his inten-
tions, he always hinted at his right to absolute power,
and his resolution to exercise it, if his subjects were
not grateful for, and contented with, his moderation.
Attempts are made, sometimes by kings, and some-
times by peoples — the former in the name of divine
right, the latter in that of the sovereignty of the people
—to intimidate one another by enumerating the mortal
wounds wliicli each has it in its power to inflict on the
other. This pretension is as insane as it is insolent ;
since it enervates and endangers, sometimes the govern-
ment, and sometimes the liberties, of the country. It
equally befits both kings and peoples, in then- reci-
procal relations, to assert only their legal rights, and
to bury in profound silence the mysteries and menaces
of despotic violence and popular revolutions.
The promises of James, and his attempts at con-
stitutional government, were received by the country
with favom', almost with enthusiasm. The more lively
men's fears are, the more earnest are their hopes. The
Tories held sway in the ParHament. The Anglican
Church strove to bind the King to the engagements
which he had made towards her, by proving herself
still more monarchical and devoted to his person. The
Dissenters thought they perceived some likelihood of
obtaining toleration and liberty. Both good and bad
inchnations, both honest and disgraceful motives,
concurred to assure the King of the patient and
9() PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
almost servile submission of the country. At the
Court and in the Parhament, the great majority of
men of importance were so sceptical and corrupt as
to be ready to push their fortune by an}" conceivable
sacrifice of their opinions and honour. In the nation,
a strong feehng of lassitude still remained, which com-
bined with monarcliical tendencies and religious disci-
pHne to prevent any explosion of discontent and alarms.
James was no longer young ; his daughters, the sole
heiresses of the throne, were devoted to the Protestant
faith ; it would be better, thought the people, to
submit for a short time to evils, which could not
possibly last long, than to risk any new revolution.
The more violent factions, the conspirators by pro-
fession, the men of desperate ambition, the proscribed
refugees in Holland, were neither so resigned nor so
patient. In spite of the counsels of the Prince of
Orange, who protected and restrained them at the
same time, they attempted two simultaneous insur-
rections — one in Scotland, headed by the Earl of
Argyle, the other in England, under the command
of the Duke of Monmouth. The people were agi-
tated by these movements : a marked sympathy for
the insurgents speedily pervaded the lower classes,
but did not display itself openly. The Whig party
did not sustain the rebeUion ; the Tories vigorously
assisted the King to suppress it. Both attempts
failed ; the two leaders were publicly beheaded ; their
fate excited the compassion of the people, but neither
their persons nor their intentions corresponded with
tlie national feeling.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 97
But an appearance of success fs fatal to weak
princes when engaged in conflict with their people.
James, victorious over his enemies and obeyed by
his subjects, gave free course to the vices of his na-
ture. He took pleasure in the harsh and even
cruel exercise of power ; and he found in Jeffreys a
bold and cynical minister of his vengeance. The
judicial severities practised against the partisans of
Argyle and Monmouth, with a gross contempt for the
guarantees of law and the feelings of humanity, excited
deep indignation and disgust amongst all classes of
the people, whether they approved of the rebellion or
not. At the same time, James gave free course to
his designs ; he attacked the Anglican Church in its
vital privileges, and his most faithful Protestant servants
in the inmost recesses of their consciences. The Uni-
versities of Oxford and Cambridge received orders to
nominate Catholics to preside over Protestant esta-
blishments. Eochester was told by the King himself,
that, if he did not turn Catholic, he should be deprived
of all his employments. Menaces so evidently illegal
and extreme met with opposition even among the
Catholics themselves. Two parties, one of which was
as sincere and prudent as the other was intriguing
and violent, contended for influence over the King ;
and with a view to restrain or excite his zeal, daily
pointed out to him either the dangers into which
he was rushing, or the object which he aspired to attain.
Nothing was wanting to enlighten James ; neither
loyalty and long patience on the part of the Protestants,
nor moderation and wise counsels from the Catholics
VOL. I. H
98 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
themselves. All Mled to overcome his blind and
sincere stubbornness. He officially summoned a Jesuit,
Father Petre, into his Privy Council ; and he ordered the
Anglican clergy to read from all the pulpits in the king-
dom the declaration by which, in virtue of his kingly
power alone, he abolished the Acts of Parliament
against Dissenters and Catholics. The Archbishop of
Canterbury and six bishops refused to execute this
order, and presented a petition to the King against it ;
he had them arrested, conducted to the Tower, and
tried before the Coui't of King's Bench as authors of
a seditious Hbel.
At this very time, contrary to all expectation, and
amidst the natural though unfounded suspicions of
all England, a son was born to King James. The
dominant party were loud in their joy, promising
themselves to train and govern the son as they had
the father ; and this state of things, wliich had hitherto
been tolerated only because its speedy termination
was expected, became likely to be prolonged for an
indefinite period.
No outbreak occurred ; the comitry remained quiet ;
but the leaders of the country changed their resolu-
tions. Driven to extremity, the Anglican Chm-ch
commenced a passive resistance ; and the political
parties, both Wliigs and Tories, united in taking a
more decisive step. Experience had taught the Whigs
that they alone could neither rally the nation nor
establish a Government : their conspiracies had failed
as utterly as their cabinets. They had the rare wis-
dom to admit that they were not sufficient in them-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 99
selves to cany out their plans, and that close union
with their ancient adversaries could alone insure their
success. The Tories, in their turn, had learned that
every principle has its Hmits, every engagement its
conditions, and every duty its reciprocal obligations.
For forty years they had advocated the maxim of non-
resistance to the Crown, and acted with scrupulous
fidelity towards their kings. Called to undergo a new
trial, they felt that their country also had a claim to
their fidehty, and that they were not bound servilely
to surrender their liberties and faith to an insensate
prince, for the mere purpose of remaining consistent
in their language. Glorious names, eminent men of
both parties — Russell, Sidney, and Cavendish, Danby,
Shrewsbury, and Lumley — concerted together, and
united their forces. Halifax, the leader of the third
party, when sounded by them, declined taking any
active part in their plans, but did not endeavour to
dissuade them from their purpose. And on the 30th
of June, 1688, at the very moment when the solemn
acquittal of the seven bishops filled London with joyous
acclamations, Admiral Herbert, disguised as a com-
mon sailor, started for Holland, bearing to the Prince
of Orange, on the part and under the signature of the
six leaders of the two parties, and of Compton, Bishop
of London, a formal invitation to come to the assistance
of the faith and laws of England, and a solemn promise
to sustain him, at any risk, with all their strength.
WiUiam was only waiting for this. " Now or
never !" said he to his confidant, Dykevelt, when he
heard of the trial of the seven bishops, and of their
H 2
100 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
bold resistance. As soon as lie received the message,
with a skihul and daring mixture of frankness and
reserve, he pubHcly announced his design, and pre-
pared to execute it. He was not going, he said, to
make a conquest and usurp a crown ; he was going,
at the request of the English themselves, to interfere
between them and their King, and to protect the me-
naced laws of England and the endangered Protestant
faith. He discussed the expediency of the enterprise
with the States-Greneral of Holland, and demanded
their consent and support. He not only informed
the Protestant princes of his pm'pose, but also com-
municated it to the Emperor of Germany and the King
of Spain ; the former of whom considered liim as the
champion of Protestantism, while the latter regarded
him as the defender of the European balance of power.
Never was such an enterprise so boldly avowed, dis-
cussed, explained, and justified beforehand. All
Europe knew of it, and understood it. Conspiracy
and personal ambition disappeared in the greatness of
the cause and of the event. And in less than four
months after the arrival of the Wliig and Tory mes-
sage, William left for England, at the head of a
squadron and an army, bearing with him the secret
approval and good wishes of nearly all the Kings of'
Europe, both Protestant and Catholic, and even of
Pope Innocent XL himself, who deeply resented the
hauglity arrogance of Louis XIV., and heartily des-
pised the foolish temerity of James II.
James alone did not understand or believe his
danger. In vain did lie receive from Louis XIV.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 101
accurate information and offers of effectual assistance ;
in vain did his ovrn agents, at the Hague and at
Paris, make him acquainted with the progress of the
preparations for the enterprise. He declined all pro-
posals and refused all information. Actuated by some
small remnant of EngHsh and royal pride, he deter-
mined not to be publicly sustained by the soldiers of
the foreign king, whose gifts he had secretly accepted
without a blush. His fear he concealed in the inmost
recesses of his soul ; and he discarded all thoughts of
danger from a presentiment of his inability to escape
fi'om it.
This presentiment did not deceive him. More than
six weeks elapsed between the arrival of WiUiam on
the shores of England and his triumphant entrance into
London ; he advanced slowly through the country,
equally prepared for resistance and welcome. Resist-
ance he nowhere met with ; not an effort was at-
tempted, not a drop of blood was shed, in the defence
of James. As abject in the presence of danger as he
had lately been obstinate in refusing to provide against
it, he attempted to regain by weakness what he had
lost by his temerity : he retracted all that he had
done, granted aU that he had refused, restored to the
towns their charters, to the universities their pri-
vileges, to the bishops his favour, dismissed Father
Petre from his council, and attempted to negociate
with WiUiam. His concessions were as vain as his
temerity had been powerless. Shut up in his palace,
he daily heard of some fresh defection of his generals,
or of his counsellors. His daughter, the Princess
102 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
Anne, deserted liim, and joined the Prince of Orange.
Whitehall became a solitude, and threatened soon to
become a prison. James fled in his turn ; but was
recognized in his flight, and brought back to London
by an unintelligent multitude. After passing a few-
more days in useless perplexity, he fled again, and for
ever. On the 18th of December, 1688, about three
hours after he had left London, six English and
Scotch regiments entered the town with banners
displayed, in the name of the Prince of Orange.
William himself^ avoiding, as much from taste as from
prudence, every appearance of triumph, arrived in the
evening at St. James's Palace ; and five weeks after-
wards, on the 22nd of January, 1689, a Parliament
— extraordinarily convoked under the name of a Con-
vention — met at Westminster, to sanction and regu-
late the new order of things.
Then burst forth all the innumerable party diifer-
ences which the common danger had hitherto re-
strained. All the monarchical scruples of the Tories
came to life again, and all the revolutionary tendencies
of the Wliigs reappeared. The most timid of the Tories
said that it would be wise to recall King James, after
having obtained from him certain guarantees. The
most fiery of the Whigs spoke of founding a Republic,
to be governed by a Council of State, of which the
Prince of Orange should be President. Between these
extreme propositions floated the moderate opinions,
which were also diverse and unsettled. Many Whigs,
whose intentions were monarchical, but who were still
imbued with the maxims of the republican Long
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 103
Parliament, wished that King James should be for-
mally deposed, and that the Crown should not he
offered to William until they had, by sovereign laws,
organised a republican Monarchy. On their side,
the Tories, who were devoted to the Church, de-
manded that, whilst declaring King James incapable
of governing, the foundations of the Monarchy should
be respected, and that they should confine themselves
to instituting a Eegency. Others, more bold, but
subtly scrupulous in their monarchical principles,
agreed with the Whigs in thinking that James, by
his conduct and flight, had abdicated the government ;
but they maintained that, by this act alone, the
throne, wliich could not be vacant for a single day,
reverted of right to his eldest daughter, the Princess
Mary; and that all they had to do was to proclaim
her Queen. As soon as these various schemes were
made known, they were explained, criticised, and
ardently discussed by the public at large, as well as
by the Parhament; the minds of the people were
excited; parties became clearly defined; ambitious
men unfurled the standard under which they hoped
to attain to fortune ; and divisions sprang up between
the Lords and the Commons. The revolution was
jeopardised almost before it was completed.
But the same political good sense which had united
the leaders of the different parties in resistance,
directed them in the fu-st proceedings of their go-
vernment. They banished all absolute theories, and
practically useless questions ; reduced the acts and
terms, by which the new power was to be founded, to
104 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
what was strictly necessary to give it a solid basis ;
aud made it their only endeavour to conclude their
business promptly, and bring the great interests of
the country to the same opinion with themselves.
WiUiani seconded the wisdom of the party leaders, at
first by his reserve, and afterwards by his firmness.
He allowed free course to every system and every pro-
ject ; exhibiting neither displeasure nor favom-, and
keeping himself aloof from all debates. But when he
felt that the crisis was approaching, he called together
the most important members of both Houses, and
declared to them, in simple, brief, and unanswerable
terms, that he was full of respect for the rights and
liberties of the Parliament ; but that he too had hber-
ties and rights, and that he would never accept a
mutilated power, nor a throne upon which his wife
would sit above him. The step was decisive. The two
Houses came to an agreement ; a declaration was
adopted, which proclaimed at once the vacancy of the
throne, the essential rights of the English people,
and the elevation of William and Mary, Prince and
Princess of Orange, to the tlu'one of England ; and
on the 13th of February, 1689, in the principal quar-
ters of London, the acclamations of the pubhc greeted
the official proclamation of the Act of Parliament.
It is the salvation of a nation, in the critical con-
junctures of its fate, to understand and put into prac-
tice, by alternate submission and action, the counsels
which God has given it in the past events of its life.
England had learned, from her former trials, that a
revolution is in itself an immense and incalculable dis-
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 105
order, which plunges society into great calamities, great
crimes, and great dangers, and which a rational people
may be one day compelled to suffer, but which they
ought to dread and repel, until it has become an
unavoidable necessity. England remembered this in
her new trials. She endured much; she long en-
deavoured to escape another revolution, and only
resigned herself to it at the last extremity, when she
could find no other means of preserving her faith,
her rights, and her honour. It is the glory of the
English Eevolution of 1688 that it was an act of
pure and necessary defence ; and this was the first
cause of its success.
Defensive in its principle, this Revolution was at the
same time precise and limited in its object. In the
great convulsions of society, men are sometimes
attacked by a fever of universal, sovereign, impious
ambition. They think they have the right and
the power to lay their hands on everything, and to
reform the world according to their own pleasure.
Nothing can be more insensate or presumptuous
than these vague impulses of the hmnan creature,
who, treating as a chaos the grand system of which
he forms an item, strives to make himself a creator,
and succeeds only in introducing the confusion of
his own dreams into everything that he touches.
England, in 1688, did not fall into tliis error;
she did not aspire to alter the foundations of society
and the destinies of humanity ; she reclaimed and
maintained the faith, law^s, and positive rights,
which contained her highest pretensions and dearest
106 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
thoughts. She accomplished a Eevolutiou which was
both lofty and modest — which gave to the country
new leaders and new guarantees ; but wliich, wdien
this object was once attained, felt satisfied and stayed
its course, wishing for nothing less and aiming at
nothing more.
This Revolution was accompHshed, not by popular
tumults, but by organized political parties : parties
organized long before the revolution, with a view to
securing regular government, and not in a revolu-
tionary spmt. Neither the Tory party, nor even
that of the Wliigs, notwithstanding the revolutionary
elements which it contained, had been formed to
overthrow estabhshed institutions. They were parties
occupied with legal politics, not with conspiracy and
insurrection. They were led to change the govern-
ment of the country; they were not called into
existence for that purpose ; and they returned to
the path of order without effort, after having left
it for a moment, not from habit or taste, but from
necessity.
And the merit and burden of the Revolution must
not be ascribed to one only of those great parties
which had been so long opposed to each other ;
they combined together and acted in concert to bring
it about. It was a work of common importance and
necessity which they shared between them ; and it
must be considered neither as a victory nor a defeat.
"Wliigs and Tories saw it approach, and received it
with different feehngs ; but all admitted its urgency
and took part in it.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 107
It has often been said in France, and even in Eng-
land, that the Ee volution of 1688 was essentially aris-
tocratic, and not popular ; that it was brought about
by the machinations and for the benefit of the higher
classes, and not by the impulse, or for the advantage,
of the whole people.
This is a remarkable example, among many others,
of the confasion of ideas, and forgetfulness of facts,
wliicli so often regulate men's judgments of great
events. The Revolution of 1688 brought about two
of the most popidar political results which are to be
found in history ; it proclaimed and guaranteed, on
the one hand, the personal and universal rights of
all citizens ; and, on the other, the active and decisive
participation of the country in its own government.
Every democracy that is ignorant that this is all
that it needs or ought to claim, disregards its greatest
interests, and will be able neither to establish a
government, nor to preserve its own liberties.
The character of the Revolution of 1688, in a moral
point of view, was still more popular ; it was effected
in the name and by the force of the religious con-
victions of the people, with a view to insure their
security and predominance. In no other country,
and at no other time, has the faith of the masses
exercised a greater influence over the fate of their
government.
But, though popular in its principle and results, the
Revolution of 1688 was aristocratic in its execution;
it was planned, prepared, and brought to a conclusion
by men of importance, the faithful representatives of
108 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
the interests and feelings of tlie nation. England has
been favoured with this rare blessing, that strong
and intimate connections were early formed, and have
long subsisted, between the different classes of society.
Her aristocracy and democracy have managed to live and
prosper together, mutually sustaining and restraining
one another. Her leaders have never been isolated
from her people, and her people have never stood in
need of leaders. In 1688, especially, the English
nation experienced the advantages of this happy har-
mony of classes in her social order. To preserve
her faith, laws, and liberties, she was reduced to the
formidable necessity of a revolution, and she brought
it about by men friendly to order and government,
and not by revolutionaries. The same influences that
attempted the work also restrained it within proper
bounds, and took care to establish it upon firm
foundations. The great characteristic of the Revolu-
tion of J G88, and the pledge of its future success, was
this : — the cause of the English jDCople triumphed
by the hands of the English aristocracy.
The greatest possible union and power were, at this
epoch, absolutely requisite ; for such is the natural vice
of all revolutions, that the most necessary, legiti-
mate, and potent change must cause great troubles to
the society that it saves, and must long remain itself
in a disturbed and precarious state. Two or three
years had scarcely elapsed, before King William, the
saviour of England, had become exceedingly unpopu-
lar. His simple ])ut haughty demeanour, his cold
silence, his manifest distaste for the habits of the
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 109
English aristocracy, the exclusive intimacy and abun-
dant favours which he bestowed on some old Dutch
friends, all combined to render him a foreigner, and
not a very agreeable one, in the midst of his new
people. He was, as regarded civil and religious liberty,
much more enlightened than the Enghsh, and not at
all inchned to become the instrument of the rigours
of episcopal intolerance, or of the animosities of aris-
tocratic parties. He had little regard for the exigen-
cies of constitutional government, and but ill under-
stood the working of parliamentary parties, which were
still confused and imperfectly organized ; he was soon
shocked at their egotism, and jealous of their sway,
and he defended liis own power against them, some-
times with more vigour than discernment. In his
government, as well as in his thoughts, the general
policy of Em*ope was his great, and almost his only
consideration ; he had aspired to the tlu'one of England
chiefly that he might have all her forces at his disposi-
tion in his struggle against the European domination
of Louis XIV. ; and the Protestant passions of the
English people were fully in accordance with his design.
But WiUiam compromised England in the combina-
tions and wars of the Continent to a greater extent
than was suited to the habits, tastes, or interests of
the nation. She was weary at finding herself unceas-
ingly engaged in foreign efforts and dangers by that
very prince whom she had summoned to deliver her
from dangers at home ; and William, in his turn, was
indignant at finding in that very people, and those xery
parties, whom he had delivered upon their own soil, so
IK) PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
little (levotedness and ardom- for the great cause with
which their safety and liberties were, in his eyes,
so evidently connected. Hence arose between the
King and the Parliament those misunderstandings,
disao-reements, and conflicts, which disturbed and
shook the new government. William knew his
strength, and used it haughtily. He even went so far
as to say that he would abdicate, and return again to
Holland, if he were not better understood and sus-
tained. When the danger became pressing, the Parha-
ment, the political parties, the Church, and the people,
felt how necessary William was to them, and over-
whelmed him with the liveliest demonstrations of
gratitude. But their mutual dishkes soon revived.
The parties returned to their rivalries ; the people to
their prejudices and their ignorance ; the King to his
European pohcy, his war necessities, and his captious
tenacity of power. The Jacobites recovered their
hopes. Though defeated in Ireland and Scotland, and
discovered and condemned in England, they neverthe-
less renewed their attempts at civil war and conspiracy.
Even in William's council King James had correspon-
dents, who thought this connection with the exiled
monarch might, at some future time, be of advantage.
During the whole course of this reign, notwithstand-
ing the easy success of the Revolution, the firm cha-
racter of the King, and the sincere loyalty of the
country, the government established in 1688 was con-
tinually attacked and continually tottering.
The same evil continued under Queen Anne. The
Whigs and Tories, more and more widely disunited,
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. Ill
carried on a desperate conflict for the supremacy. In
the European struggle for tlie Spanish succession, the
two parties at first were equally favourable to King
William's policy of intervention and continental war.
Carried away by a spirit of routine and by success, the
Whigs wanted to push the war immeasurably beyond
the bounds of necessity. The Tories espoused the cause
of peace, which was earnestly longed for by the English
people, and favoured by the Queen ; and, by the
Treaty of Utrecht, they put an end to the critical and
precarious position of Europe. But the Tories were
closely connected with the Jacobites ; in spite of her
fidelity to Protestantism, family feeluigs were strong in
the heart of Queen Anne ; intrigues at home were
mingled with complications abroad ; the banished
Stuarts began to think they had yet a chance ; the
Grovernment of 1688 was again jeopardized. The
death of Queen Anne, and the peaceful accession of
the House of Hanover, restored its stability. Under
the reigns of Greorge I. and George II. the minds of
men took another course ; foreign pohcy ceased to be
their principal occupation ; the home government, the
maintenance of peace, questions of finance, colonies,
and commerce, and the development and struggles
of the parhamentary system, became the dominant
objects of interest to both the government and the
pubHc. Questions of revolution and of dynasty, how-
ever, were not extinct : the English nation did not
feel any affection for German kings, who could not
speak then- language and could not live comfortably
amongst them ; who eagerly seized any pretext to leave
112 PRELIMINAR\ ESSAY ON
the country and visit their former petty principality ;
and incessantly involved their new subjects in conti-
nental affairs of no importance or interest. The
domestic quarrels of the royal family, and the grossly
licentious manners of the Court, offended the country.
The unstable dominion, the selfish rivalries, the fac-
titious passions, the exaggerations and the intrigues of
the parliamentary parties shocked its honesty and good
sense. In Scotland, in Ireland, and even in England,
Jacobite conspiracies and insurrections were of continual
occurrence ; and, though always defeated, they always
found zealous adherents, and no longer excited any
great fear or hatred in the country. In the midst of
these continual attacks upon the established order of
things, indifference, inertness, a critical humour, and
disaffection, became the general feelings of the country ;
and the public seemed to separate itself from a power
for which it no longer cared. Fifty- seven years after
the national outburst wliich had placed William III.
on the throne, the grandson of James II., at the head
of some Scotch Higlilanders, penetrated almost unre-
sisted, into the very centre of England ; and people
everywhere began to ask themselves whether he
would not, in a few days, enter London itself as
easily as William had done when he drove out this
Pretender's grandfather.
But England and her government were no longer
at the mercy of a fit of popular ill humour, or the
defeat of a few regiments, or the daring enterprise
of a few factious individuals. The same social
forces which, in 1688, had caused the Revolution,
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 113
in 1745 defended and saved the government wliicli it
had founded. Wlien the danger became evident, the
enemies of that government were encountered by the
strong organization of aristocratic parties, the good
sense of a disciphned democracy, and the faith of a
Clmstian people. The T\liig leaders, and many of
the most eminent Tories, considered that their pohtical
honour and fortune were, in a measure, bound up with
this cause. The parties were faithful to their leaders.
The middle classes forgot their discontents, their dis-
affection, and the little personal sympathy that they
felt for the government, and wholly devoted themselves
to the maintenance of their own welfare, and their
country's essential interests. The Church and the
Dissenters appeared animated by the same devoted-
ness. Before this intelligent union of the aristocracy
and the people, of the political and religious feelings
of the country, the success of the Jacobites vanished
as rapidly as it had arisen. The greatest danger in-
curred by the new monarchy of England was also the
last. From that time to this, some few secret designs,
some plots that were frustrated as soon as they were
conceived, have occasionally shown that it still had
enemies. But the government established in 1688 had
to pass through seventy years of laborious and painful
trials before it was able to surmount the natural vices
of every revolution, to restore peace to society, and to
obtain an undisputed sway. In 1760, when Greorge III.
ascended the throne, this work was accomplished, by
what means and at what cost I have already explained.
George III. had reigned for sixteen years when, at
VOL. I. I
114 I'RKLIMINARY ESSAY ON
the distance of more than three thousand miles from
his capital, upwards of two milhons of his suhjects
broke the bond that united them to his throne, pro-
claimed their independence, and undertook to found
the Eepubhc of the United States of America. A
struggle of seven years sufficed to induce England to
recognise their independence, and treat with the new
State upon equal terms. Sixty-seven years have
elapsed since that time ; and without effort, mthout
any extraordinary occurrences, by the simple develop-
ment of their institutions and of peaceful prosperity,
the United States have taken a glorious place among
the great nations of the earth. Never was such
speedy greatness purchased so cheaply at its origin,
and disturbed so little in its progress.
It is not merely to the absence of any powerful
rival, and to the immense tracts of country open
before them, that the United States are indebted for
this rare good fortune. Causes, less fortuitous and
more moral, have also contributed to the rapidity and
tranquillity of their rise to greatness.
They entered into Hfe under the banner of law and
justice. In their case also, the revolution which
commenced their history was primarily an act of
defence. They claimed the recognition of guarantees
and principles which were inscribed in their charters ;
and which the Parliament of England, that now
refused them, had already triumphantly claimed and
asserted in the mother-country, with much more vio-
lence and disorder than the resistance of the colonies
had entailed.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 115
Properly speaking, they did not attempt a revolu-
tion. Their enterprise was undoubtedly great and
perilous ; to obtain their independence, they had to
carry on a war against a powerful enemy, and to
found a central government, in the place of the distant
power whose yoke they were casting off. But they
had no revolution to effect in their local and private
institutions ; each of the colonies already possessed a
free government, as regarded its internal affairs ; and,
on becoming a State, it had to make but few changes
in the maxims and organization of its existing govern-
ment. There was no old social order to be feared,
detested, and destroyed ; attachment to ancient laws
and customs, and affectionate respect for the past, were,
on the contrary, the general feehngs of the people ;
the colonial system, under the patronage of a distant
monarchy, was easily transformed into a republican
government, under the bond of a federal administra-
tion.
Of all systems of government, a RepubHc is most
certainly that to which the general and spontaneous
assent of the country is most necessary. We may
imagine, and we have seen, monarchies founded by
violence ; but to impose a Republic on a nation, to
estabhsh a popular government in opposition to the
instinct and wishes of a people, is repugnant to
common sense and to justice. The English colonies
in America had no such difficulty to sm-mount in be-
coming the Republic of the United States ; they were
voluntarily republican; and in adopting the repub-
lican form of government, they merely accomplished
I 2
IK) TRELIMINAKY KSSzVY ON
the national wish, and developed, instead of abolishing,
their previously-existing institutions.
Their social order was disturbed no more than
their political system. There was no struggle between
the different classes : no violent displacement of social
influences. Although the crown of England still had
partisans in the colonies, the same spirit and the same
intentions prevailed at every degree of the social scale.
The rich and influential famihes were, generally speak-
ing, most firm in their resolution to obtain independ-
ence, and to found a new order of things. Tlie
people followed them, and the change was effected
under their cUrection.
Rehgious opinions underwent no greater revolution
than society had don€. The philosophical ideas of
the eighteenth century, its moral scepticism and reli-
gious incredulity, doubtless penetrated and became
current in the United States of America ; but they
did not completely imbue even those minds which
they infected ; they were not fully adopted in their
fundamental principles and final consequences ; the
moral gravity and practical good sense of the old
Puritans stiU retained their hold upon those Ame-
ricans who were admirers of the French philosophers :
and the mass of the American people remained faithful
to simple Christianity, as mucli attached to their
doctrines as to their hberties, submissive to God
and to the Gospel whilst up in arms against the
King and Parliament of England, and governed,
whilst struggling for their independence, by that
same faith which had led their ancestors to that land.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 1 1 7
to lay the foundations upon which the new State was
built.
The ideas and passions wliich, under the name of
democracy, agitate and disorganize society at the pre-
sent day, are current and powerful in the United States
of America ; there they ferment with all the conta-
gious errors and destructive vices that they contain.
But hitherto they have been efficiently restrained and
purified by the religious faith, the excellent political
traditions, and the strong habits of obedience to law,
wliich govern the people. At the same time that prin-
ciples of anarchy audaciously display themselves upon
this vast theatre, principles of order and conservatism
subsist with powerful energy, in society as well as in
individuals; their presence and influence are everywhere
recognised, even by that party which denominates itself
the democratic party par excellence ; they moderate and
regulate it, and often preserve it unconsciously from
its own fiery intemperance. These are the tutelar
principles which presided over the origin of the
American revolution, and insured its success. May
Heaven grant that, in the formidable struggle which
they now have everywhere to sustain, they may con-
tinue to prevail among that powerful j^eople, and
remain always at hand to guard it from the preci-
pices which border so closely on its path !
Three great men, Cromwell, William III., and
Washington, remain m history as the leaders and
representatives of those critical events which decided
the fate of two mighty nations. For extent and
energy of natm-al talents, Cromwell is, perhaps, the
118 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
most remarkable of the three. His mind was marvel-
lously prompt, firm, supple, inventive, and perspi-
cacious ; he possessed a vigour of character which no
obstacle could discourage, and no conflict could tire.
He pursued his plans with an ardour as inexhaustible
as his patience, sometimes taking the longest and
most circuitous roads, and sometimes the shortest
and most precipitous paths. He excelled equally in
winning and in ruhng men in personal andfamihar in-
tercourse ; and he was equally skilled in organizing
and conducting an army or a party. He had the
instinct of popularity and the gift of authority, and
he was able, with the same boldness, to let loose or to
quell factions. But born in the midst of a revolution,
and carried onwards by successive convulsions to su-
preme power, his genius was, from first to last, essen-
tially revolutionary; he had learned to understand
the necessity of order and government, but he was
unable either to respect or practise moral and perma-
nent laws. In consequence of the imperfection of
his nature, or the viciousness of his position, he
wanted regularity and calmness in the exercise of
power ; had immediate recourse to extreme measures,
like a man continually assailed by mortal dangers ;
and perpetuated or aggravated, by the violence of his
remedies, the \aolent evils that he sought to cure. The
foundation of a government is a task that requires
measures of a more regular character, and more in
conformity to the eternal laws of moral order. Crom-
well was able to conquer the revolution that he had
made but he could not succeed in establishing it.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. I I 'J
Though less powerful, perhaps, than CromweD, by
nature, William III. and Washington succeeded in the
enterprise in which he failed ; they fixed the destiny
and established the government of their respective
countries. This may be accounted for by the fact that,
even in the midst of revolution, they never accepted
or practised a revolutionary policy ; they never were
placed in the fatal situation of using anarchical vio-
lence as a stepping-stone to power, and then employ-
ing despotic violence to maintain it. They found
themselves placed, or they placed themselves, at the
very outset, in the regular ways, and under the perma-
nent conditions, of government.
William was an ambitious prince : it is puerile to
believe that, until the appeal was made to him in 1688,
he had remained free from all desire of ascending the
throne of England, and ignorant of the schemes which
had long been on foot for raising him to it. William
followed the progress of the scheme, step by step,
without taking any part in it, but without discoun-
tenancing it ; giving its authors no direct encourage-
ment, but affording them all the protection in his
power. His ambition had also the honour of being
associated with the triumjDli of a great and just cause —
the cause of religious Hberty and of the balance of
power in Europe. No man ever made a great poli-
tical design more thoroughly the ruhng idea and ex-
clusive object of his life than Wilham did. He was
ardently devoted to the work which he had to ac-
complish ; and he considered his own aggrandisement
as merely a means to that end. In hh designs upon
120 PRELIMINARY ESSAY ON
the crown of England lie did not attempt to succeed
by violence or disorder ; liis mind was too lofty and
too well-regulated to be ignorant of the radical vicious-
ness of such success, or to submit to its yoke. But
when the career was opened to him by England her-
self, he gave no more heed to the scruples of the pri-
vate individual ; he was anxious that his cause should
prevail, and that he should win the honour of the
triumph.
A glorious mixture of abihty and faith, of ambition
and patriotism, Washington had no private ambition ;
his country had need of him ; he became great to serve
her, from duty rather than from choice, and some-
times even with a painful effort. His experiences of
public life were bitter ; and he preferred the independ-
ence of private hfe and tranquillity of mind to the
exercise of power. But he unhesitatingly undertook
the task imposed upon him by his comitry, and, in
performing it, he allowed no concessions to be made,
either towards his country or himself, for the purpose
of hghtening its burden. Born to govern, though he
took no pleasure in it, he told the American people
what he thought was the truth, and maintained, in
governing them, what he thought w^as wise, with a
simple but immoveable firmness, and a sacrifice of
popularity which was all the more meritorious because
it was not compensated by the pleasures of domination.
The servant of an infant republic, in which the demo-
cratic spirit prevailed, he obtained its confidence and
secured its triumph by sustaining its interests against
its inclinations, and by ]:)ractising that modest and
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 121
severe, reserved and independent policy, which seems
to belong only to the leader of an aristocratic senate,
placed at the head of an ancient State. His success
was remarkable, and does equal honour to Washington
and to his country.
Wliether we consider the destiny of nations, or that
of great men ; whether we contemplate a monarchy or
a repubhc, an aristocratic or a democratic society, the
same light shines down upon us from the facts with
wliich we become acquainted. Definitive success can
be obtained only by holding the same principles, and
pursuing the same paths. The revolutionary spirit is
equally fatal to the dignities which it calls into being
and to those which it overthrows. The pohcy which
preserves a State is, also, the only policy that can ter-
minate and consolidate a Eevolution.
HISTORY
CHARLES THE FIEST
ENGLISH REVOLUTION.
BOOK I.
ACCESSION OF CHARLES I. — STATE OF PUBLIC FEELING IN ENGLAND —
CONVOCATION OF THE FIEST PARLIAMENT — SPIRIT OF LIBERTY MANI-
FESTED BY IT — ITS DISSOLUTION — FIRST ATTEMPTS AT ARBITRARY
GOVERNMENT — THEIE ILL SUCCESS — SECOND PARLIAMENT — IMPEACH-
MENT OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM — DISSOLUTION OF THE PARLIA-
MENT — BAD ADMINISTRATION OF BUCKINGHAM — THIRD PARLIAMENT —
PETITION OF RIGHTS— PROROGATION OF THE PARLIAMENT — ASSASSINA-
TION OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM — SECOND SESSION OF THE THIRD
PARLIAMENT — FRESH CAUSES OF PUBLIC DISSATISFACTION — THE KING'S
ANGER — DISSOLUTION OF THE THIRD PARLIAMENT.
On the 17th of March, 1625, Charles the First
ascended the throne of England ; and a few days after-
ward, on the 2nd of April, he convoked a Parliament.
The House of Commons met on the 1 8th of June, and
scarcely had it assembled, when Sir Benjamin Rudyard,
a worthy man, who, during the previous reign, had
been reckoned among the adversaries of the Court, rose
124 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE EIRST
and moved that henceforward no pains should be
spared to maintain perfect harmony between the king
and his people : " For," he said, " what may we expect
from him, being king? his good natural disposition,
his freedom from vice, his travels abroad, and his being
bred in Parliaments, promise greatly." ^
AU England, indeed, indulged in joy and hope ; —
and not merely in those vague expectations, and those
tumultuous rejoicings, which invariably herald the
commencement of a new reign ; but in serious, general,
and apparently well-founded satisfaction and anticipa-
tions. Charles was a prince of grave and virtuous
habits, and of acknowledged piety ; he was studious,
learned, and frugal, with but little inclination to pro-
digality, reserved, but not ill-tempered, and dignified
without arrogance. In his household he maintained
the utmost decorum and regularity ; all his actions be-
tokened a lofty, upright, and justice-loving character ;
his manners and deportment won him the respect of
his courtiers and pleased the people ; and his virtues
commanded the esteem of all good men. Tired of the
ignoble conduct, the talkative and familiar pedantry,
and the inert and pusillanimous policy of James I.,
England promised herself happiness and liberty, now
that she was at length governed by a king whom she
could honour.
Neither Charles nor the English people were aware
how far they were already estranged from each other ;
nor did they know that causes had long been at work,
' June 22, 1625 ; Parliamentary History, vol. li. col. 5.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 125
and were daily becoming more active, which would
soon render it impossible for them to understand or to
agree with one another.
At this period, two revolutions, the one visible and
strikingly apparent, the other internal and unnoticed,
but not the less certain, were in process of accomplish-
ment — the first, in European kingship ; and the second,
in the social condition and manners of the English
people.
On the Continent, at this time, royalty, throwing
aside its ancient trammels, was everywhere becoming
almost absolute. In France, in Spain, and in most of
the States of the Germanic Empire, it had crushed the
feudal aristocracy, and ceased to protect the liberties
of the commons, as it no longer needed to oppose them
to other enemies. The great nobles, as if they had
even lost all consciousness of their defeat, thronged
round the thrones, and seemed almost to take pride in
the splendour of their conquerors. The burgher class,
naturally timid and locally scattered, rejoiced in the
new order of things, which was productive to them of
unexampled prosperity, and laboured to obtain wealth
and enlightenment, without aspiring as yet to any
share in the government of the State. On all sides,
the splendour of courts, the prompt despatch of ad-
ministrative business, and the extent and regularity
of wars, proclaimed the preponderance of the royal
power. The maxims of divine right and kingly sove-
reignty universally prevailed, and were feebly contested
even where they were not positively admitted. In a
word, the progress of civilization, literature, and the
126 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
arts, under the fostering influence of peace and internal
prosperity, adorned and beautified this triumph of
pure monarchy — inspiring princes with j)resumptuous
confidence, and people with admiring complacency.
The royal power in England had not remained
unafiected by this European movement. Since the
accession of the House of Tudor, in 1485, it had
ceased to fear the opposition of those proud barons,
who, though too weak to contend individually against
theu' king, had in former times succeeded, by coahtion,
either in maintaining their rights, or in forcibly ob-
taining a share in the exercise of the royal authority.
Mutilated, impoverished, and enfeebled by their own
excesses, and most of all by the wars of the two Eoses,
this aristocracy, so long indomitable, yielded almost
unresistingly, first to the haughty tyranny of
Henry VIIL, and afterwards to the able government
of Elizabeth. On becoming the head of the Church,
and the possessor of her immense estates, Henry, by
distributing them Hberally among famihes, whose
fortunes he founded, or whose decayed grandeur he
thus restored, began the metamorphosis of his barons
into courtiers. During the reign of Elizabeth, this
transformation was completed. A woman and a
Queen, a brilliant Court both gratified her tastes and
augmented her authority. The nobihty hastened
thither with enthusiasm, and without too greatly
exciting public discontent ; it was a rare temptation
to be able to devote themselves to the ser\dce of a
popular sovereign, and to seek, by means of intrigues,
and in the midst of festivities, the favour of a Queen
AND 'HIE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 127
who possessed the aifection of the country. The
maxims, forms, and phraseology, and frequently
even the practices, of pure monarchy, were tolerated
in a government which was usefal and glorious to the
nation ; the love of the people screened the servihty
of the courtiers ; and towards a woman, whose every
peril was a public danger, unbounded devotion seemed
to be a law to the gentleman, and a duty to the
Protestant and citizen.
The Stuarts could not fail to continue in the course
which, since the accession of the House of Tudor, the
monarchy of England had pursued. Of Scotch birth,
and sprung from the blood of Guise, James I., both
by his family recollections and the habits of liis
country, was attached to Trance, and accustomed to
seek his allies and models upon the Continent, where
an Enghsh prince ordinarily could see none but enemies.
He, therefore, soon showed that he was more deeply
imbued than EHzabeth, or even Henry VIII., had
been with those maxims which were then establisliing
pure monarchy in Europe : he professed them with all
the pride of a theologian and the complacency of a
king ; and, by the pomposity of his declarations, con-
tinually protested against the timidity of his actions
and the Hmits set to his power. When compelled, as
he sometimes was, to defend, by more direct and simple
arguments, the measures of liis government, such as
arbitrary imprisonments or illegal taxes, James would
adduce the example of the King of France or Spain.
" The King of England," said his ministers to the
House of Commons, " must not be in a worse condition
128 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
than his equals."^ And such, even in England, was
the influence of the revolution which had recently
taken place in royal power on the Continent, that the
adversaries of the Court were embarrassed by tliis
language, — feeling almost convinced that the dignity
of princes required that they should enjoy the same
rights, and yet unable to reconcile this necessary
equality among crowned heads with the liberties of
their country.
Brought up from childhood in these pretensions and
maxims, Prince Charles, when he became a man, was
exposed still more nearly to then' contagious influence.
The Infemta of Spain was promised to him ; and the
Duke of Buckingham suggested that he should proceed
incognito to Madrid, to sue in person for her love and
hand. So cliivabous an idea fired the young man's
imagination : the only difficulty was to obtain the
King's consent. James refused, grew angry, wept,
and yielded at length to his favourite, rather than to
his son." Charles arrived at Madrid, in March, 1623,
and was received with great honom-s. There he saw,
in all its splendour, monarchy majestic and supreme,
obtaining from its servants almost idolatrous devotion,
and from its subjects almost religious respect ; rarely
receiving contradiction and always certain, in the end,
to soar above all opposition by the simple exercise of
its will. The marriage of Charles to the Infanta was
broken off; but, in her stead, he married Henrietta
' Journals of the House of Commons, vol. i. pp. 467, 481, 492.
2 Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. pp 19 — 33.
THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 129
Maria, a princess of France ; ' for, beyond these two
courts, his father persisted in regarding every alliance
unworthy of the dignity of his throne. The influence
of this union upon the English prince was in no
respect different from that to which he had already
been subjected in Spain ; and the royalty of Paris or
Madrid became, in his e3^es, the true type of the
natural and legitimate condition of a king.
Thus the English monarchy — as tar at least as the
monarch, his counsellors, and court, were concerned —
was following the same direction as the monarchies of
the Continent. Here, also, every event disclosed the
symptoms and effects of the revolution which had
been consummated in other countries, and which, in
its most modest pretensions, allowed tlie liberties of
the subject to exist only as subordinate rights — con-
cessions of the sovereign's generosity.
But whilst, on tlie Continent, this revolution found
the people still incapable of resisting it, and perhaps
even disposed to welcome it, in England, a counter-
revolution, quietly pervading society, had already
undermined the ground beneath the feet of pure
monarchy, and prepared its ruin in the midst of its
progress.
When, at the accession of the Tudors, the aris-
tocracy bowed and humbled themselves before the
throne, the English commons were not in a position
' This marriage, though negotiated in 1024, was not definitively con-
cluded until the month of May, 1625, and it was celebrated in England
in the month of .Tune following.
VOL. I. K
130 HISTOEY OF CHARLES THE EIRST
to take their place in the struggle of liberty against
power; they would not even have ventured to aspire
to the lionour of the contest. In the fourteenth
century, at the time when they made their most rapid
progress, their ambition was limited to obtaining a
recognition of their first rights, and to securing a few
incomplete and unstable guarantees : their imagination
never soared so high as to suppose that it was their
right to participate in the sovereign power, and to
interpose, in a permanent and decisive manner, in the
government of the country : such lofty privileges
could be possessed, they thought, by the barons alone.
In the sixteenth century, when worn out and
ruined, like the barons, by the civil wars, the Commons
stood most of all in need of order and repose : this
was secured to them by the royal power, imperfectly,
it is true, but nevertheless with more certainty and
regularity than they had ever known before. They
accepted the benefit with eager gratitude. Separated
from their ancient leaders, and left almost alone in
presence of the throne and of those barons who had
formerly been their alhes, their language became
humble, and their conduct timid ; so that the King
was justified in beheving that henceforward the people
would be as submissive as the nobles.
But the people in England was not, as on the
Continent, an ill-assorted coalition of burghers and
peasants, who had been emancipated by slow degrees,
and who were still bent beneath the yoke of their
ancient servitude. As early as the fourteenth ccn-
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 131
tury, the most numerous portion of the feudal
aristocracy — all those possessors of small fiefs who were
not rich and influential enough to share the supreme
power with the great barons, but who were proud of
the same origin, and long possessed the same rights —
had taken their place among the Commons of England.
Thus becoming the leaders of the nation, they had
more than once supplied it with a strength and bold-
ness which the burgher class alone would have been in-
capable of manifesting. Though weakened and de-
pressed, Hke aU the rest of the nation, by the lengthened
disasters of civil discord, they speedily recovered their
pride and importance under the reign of peace.
WTnlst the chief nobility thronged to court to repair
their losses, and received from the King borrowed
dignities, as corrupting as they were precarious, and
which, without restoring to them their former fortunes,
separated them more and more widely from the
country ; the simple gentlemen, the freeholders, and
the citizens, whose only anxiety was to turn their
lands or capital to good account, increased in wealth
and credit, became daily more closely united among
themselves, drew the entire people under their influence,
and without noise, without political design, without
even a consciousness of what they were doing, concen-
trated in their own hands all those social forces which
are the true sources of power.
In the towns, commerce and industry were gaining
rapid development. The city of London acquired
immense wealth ; the King, the Court, and almost all
the great nobles of the realm, became its debtors, and
K 2
182 HISTORY OV CHARLES THE FIRST
though always insolent, were always necessitous. The
mercantile marine, the nursery of the royal navy, was
numerous and active in every sea ; and the sailors
fully shared in the interests and dispositions of the
merchants.
In the country districts, things followed the same
course : property became more extensively divided.
The feudal laws placed obstacles in the way of the
sale and partition of fiefs : these were indu'ectly
abolished, at least in part, by a statute of Henry VII. ;
the nobility received this as a boon, and hastened to
avail themselves of it. They alienated, in like manner'
most of the vast domains distributed among them by
Henry VIII. -The King encouraged these sales, in
order to increase the number of possessors of eccle-
siastical property ; and the courtiers were obliged to
have recourse to them, for no abuses could suffice to
meet their necessities. At a later period, EHzabeth,
in order to avoid asking for subsidies, which are
always burdensome even to the power that obtains
them, sold a large quantity of the Crown lands.
Nearly all these properties were purchased either by
the country gentlemen who lived on their estates, by
the freeholders who cultivated their patrimonial farms,
or by citizens who retired from trade ; for they alone
had acquired, by labour and economy, the means of
paying for what the prince and his courtiers were
unable to keep.^ Agriculture prospered ; the counties
and towns were teeming with a rich, active, and
independent population ; and the movement which
' Clarendon's History of the Relit'llion, vol. i. p. 13.3.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 133
had transferred into tlieir hands a large part of the
public fortune was so rapid that, in 1628, when the
Parliament opened, the House of Commons was three
times as wealthy as the House of Lords. ^
In proportion as this revolution progressed the
Commons bea'an again to manifest their aversion to
tyranny. Now that they possessed more property,
greater security became indispensable. Eights which
had long been exercised by the prince without exciting
complaint, and which still continued to be exercised
without hindrance, now began to appear very much
Hke abuses, for a much larger number of persons felt
their weight. Men inquired whether the King had
always possessed these rights, and whether he ought
ever to have possessed them. By degrees the memory
of the people reverted to thoughts of their ancient
liberties, of the efforts by which the great charter had
been won, and of the maxims which that charter con-
secrated. The courtiers spoke disdainfully of these
old times as rude and barbarous ; but the people re-
garded them with respect and affection as free and
bold. Their glorious achievements had become almost
useless, but yet they were not utterly lost. The Par-
liament had not ceased to assemble, and kings, finding
it tractable and docile, had even employed it very
frequently as an instrument of their power. Under
'^ Hume, in his History of England, vol. iv. p. 413, quotes Sanderson
and Walker, two historians of little authority, in support of this asser-
tion. I have been unable to discover, in contemporary writers whose
testimony merits greater confidence, any such precise valuation of the
comparative wealth of the two Houses ; but we have every proof that
the House of Commons was far richer than the House of Lords.
134 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
Henry VIII., Mary, and Elizabeth, juries had be-
haved with complaisance, and even with servility ; but
the institution still existed. The towns had retained
their charters, and the corporations their franchises.
Thus, though it was long since they had ventured
upon resistance, the Commons possessed the means of
resistance to a large extent ; they were far less de-
ficient in free institutions than in the power and will
to profit by them. Power was restored to them by
that revolution which had so wonderfully increased
their material greatness ; and that good will might not
be wanting, all that was required was another revolu-
tion which should impart to them moral greatness,
embolden their ambition, elevate their ideas, and lead
them to regard resistance as a duty and dominion as a
necessity. This was accomplished by the religious
Reformation.
The Reformation was proclaimed in England by a
despot, and inaugurated by acts of tyranny. Wliile
yet in its infancy it persecuted its partisans as well as
its enemies. With one hand Henry VIII. erected
scaffolds for the Catholics, and with the other he
heaped up faggots to burn those Protestants who
refused to subscribe to the creed and approve of the
constitution which the new Church had received from
him.
There were, therefore, from the outset, two reforma-
tions — that effected by the King, and that adopted by
the people ; the one uncertain and servile, caring more
for its temporal interests than for matters of faith,
alarmed at the movement which had given it birth,
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 135
and striving to borrow from Catholicism all that it
could decently retain after separating from it; the
other spontaneous and ardent, contemning worldly
considerations, wiUing to accept the consequences of
its principles ; in short, a true moral revolution, under-
taken in the name and love of faith.
Though temporarily united by common sufferings
during the reign of Queen Mary, and by common joy
at the accession of Elizabeth, these two reformations
could not fail ere long to disagree with and attack
each other. And such was their situation that the
State was naturally involved in their disputes. By
separating from the independent head of the universal
Church, the AngHcan Church had lost all her indi-
vidual strength, and her right and power became
dependent upon the power and right of the Sovereign
of the State. She was thus devoted to the cause of
civil despotism, and compelled to profess its maxims in
order to legitimate her origin, and to serve its inte-
rests in order to save her own. The Nonconformists,
on theu' side, when attacking their religious adver-
saries, found themselves compelled also to attack their
temporal sovereign, and, in order to effect the reforma-
tion of the Church, to assert the Hberties of the citizen.
The King had taken the place of the Pope ; the An-
glican clergy, heirs of the Cathohc priesthood, acted
always in the King's name ; in every ecclesiastical
question, whether it related to a dogma, a ceremony,
or a prayer, the erection of an altar, or the shape of a
sm'pHce, the royal power was as much concerned as
136 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
the episcopal authority, and the civil government as
much interested as Church discipline and faith.
Before the perilous necessity of a double conflict
with both Church and King, of a simultaneous re-
formation of both religion and the State, the Noncon-
formists at first hesitated. Popery and everything that
resembled it was hateful and unlawful in their sight ;
but the royal authority, even though despotic, had not
yet become so. Henry VIII. had begun the Reforma-
tion, Elizabeth had saved it. The boldest Puritans
wavered before measuring the right and fixing the
limits of a power to which they were so deeply in-
debted ; and if a few ventured to advance against this
sanctuary, the astonished nation was thankful to them
for their hardihood, but did not follow them.
The necessity was, however, pressing ; the Reforma-
tion must either retrograde, or must lay hands upon
the government, which alone obstructed its progress.
Men's minds grew gradually bolder ; energy of con-
science led to fearlessness of thought and plan ;
religious faith stood in need of political rights ; and
the people began to inquire why they did not enjoy
them, who had usurped them, by what right they had
been thus usurped, and what was to be done to recover
them. The obscure citizen who, not long before,
would have bowed with respect at the mere name of
Elizabeth, and would never, perhaps, have looked
more boldly towards the throne if he had discovered
a connexion between the tyranny of the liishops -dud
that of the Queen, sternly questioned them both as to
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 137
their pretensions, when compelled to do so in defence
of his faith. It was especially among the country
gentlemen, the freeholders, the citizens, and the com-
mon people, that this determination prevailed to inves-
tigate and resist abuses in the government, as well as
errors of doctrine, for it was among these classes that
the rehgious reformation was fermenting and struggling
to advance. Caring less about their creed, the courtiers
and many of the inferior nobility, had remained satis-
fied with the innovations of Henry VIII. or his suc-
cessors, and supported the Anglican Church from
conviction, indifference, selfishness, or loyalty. Less
concerned in the interests, and at the same time more
exposed to the attacks of power, the English Com-,
mons henceforward assumed a different attitude, and
adopted other ideas, in regard to their relations with
royalty. From day to day their timidity disappeared,
and their ambition rose higher. The views of the
citizen, of the freeholder, and even of the peasant,
soared far above his actual condition. He was a
Clrristian ; in his family, or among liis friends, he
boldly studied the mysteries of divine power ; what
earthly power, he asked, could be so high that he must
abstain from considering it ? In the sacred Scriptures,
he read the laws of God ; to render obedience to them,
he was forced to resist other laws ; it therefore became
necessary for him to ascertain where human legislation
ought to terminate. But when a man seeks to learn
the limits of a master's rights, he will soon extend his
inquiries to their origin. Accordingly, the nature of
the royal power and of all powers, their ancient limits,
138 HTSTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
their recent usurpations, and the conditions and sources
of their legitimacy became, thoughout all England, a
subject of examination and conversation ; of examina-
tion, at first very modest, and undertaken rather from
necessity than taste ; of conversations long held in
secret, and which, even when introduced, no one dared
at first to carry very far, but which emancipated men's
minds from thraldom, and inspired them with a bokl-
ness previously unknown. Elizabeth, though popular
and respected, was herself conscious of the eflfects of
this growing tendency,^ and vigorously resisted it,
taking care, however, not to incur needless risk.
Matters became far worse under the rule of James I.
.A feeble and contemptible prince, he wished to be
thought a despot ; but the dogmatic display of his
impotent pretensions only provoked new acts of bold-
ness, which he exasperated, but could not repress.
The mind of the people took a free flight, whicli no
assumptions could check ; the monarch was an object
of ridicule, his favourites a subject of indignation. On
the throne, and at Court, arrogance was destitute of
power, and even of dignity ; the prevalence of the
basest corruption inspired serious men with the deepest
feelings of disgust, and exposed even the highest ranks
to degrading insults from the people. To look such
abuses in the face and calmly measure their extent was
no longer the exclusive privilege of exalted minds ;
such audacity now became popiJar. The opposition
soon began to manifest as much haughtiness and
greater confidence than the supreme power ; and it
' Sec vVppoiidix I.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 189
was not the opposition of the great barons, or of the
House of Peers, but of the House of Commons —
wliich was resolved to take that position in the State,
and to exercise that influence over the government, to
which it was justly entitled, but which it had never yet
possessed. Their indifference to the pompous menaces
of the sovereign, and their dignified but respectful
language, made it evident that a great change had taken
place, that they now thought high-mindedly, and were
resolved to act with authority ; and the secret con-
sciousness of this moral revolution had soon spread so
widely that, in 1G21, when awaiting a Committee
which the House had deputed to address to him a
severe remonstrance, James said, with an irony which
was assuredly less painful than it ought to have been,
" Set twelve chairs ; here are twelve kings come to me."'
In fact, it was almost a senate of kings, which an
absolute monarch summoned around his throne, when
Charles I. convoked the Parliament. Neither the
prince nor the people, and especially the latter, had as
yet clearly ascertained the basis, or measured the
extent of their pretensions. They came together with
plans and sincere hopes of union ; but, in reality, their
disunion was already consummated, for both thought
as sovereigns.
As soon as the session was opened, the House of
Commons turned its attention to the whole range of
the government ; foreign and domestic affau's, negocia-
tions and alliances, the use made of past subsidies, the
' Eapin's History of England, vol. viii. p. 183 ; Keunet's Complete
History of England, vol. ii. p. 743.
140 HISTORY or CHARLES THE EIRST
employment of future grants, the state of religion, tlie
repression of Popery — nothing seemed to fall beyond
their cognizance. On the 11th of August, 1G25, they
complained that the royal navy afforded insufficient
protection to English commerce ;^ and on the 6th of
July, they censured Dr. Montague, one of the King's
chaplains, for defending the Romish church, and
preaching the duty of passive obedience.^ They ex-
pected the redress of all their grievances from the King-
alone, but manifested their determination to interfere
in all matters requu'ing examination, by inquiries,
petitions, and the constant expression of their opinion.
They made but few complaints against the govern-
ment of Charles ; it was only just beginning. How-
ever, so extensive and animated an examination of
public affairs could not fail to be regarded by the
monarch as an encroachment on his prerogatives : so
much liberty of speech offended him. On the 6th of
August, 1625, a member of the Court party, Mr.
Edward Clarke, attempted to complain of this in the
House, saying " that there had been speeches there,
with invective bitterness, and very unseasonable for
the time." He was called immediately to the bar by
general acclamation, and ordered to explain himself;
and, as he would not withdraw his statement, the
House was on the point of expelling him.^
Their speech, indeed, was bold, though conveyed in
humble terms. " We do not desire, as 5 Henry IV.
or 29 Henry VI., the removing from about the King
' Pai'liamentary History, ^ ol. ii. col. 35.
'■^ Ibid., col. (;. ^ Il)id., col. 13.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 141
of evil counsellors. We do not request a choice by
name, as 14 Edward III., 3, 5, 11 Eichard II., 8
Henry IV., or 31 Henry VI. ; nor to swear tliem in
Parliament as 35 Edward I., 9 Edward II., or 5
Eichard II. ; or to line them out their directions of
rule, as 43 Henry III. and 8 Henry VI. ; or desire
that wliicli Henry III. did promise in his forty-second
year, se acta omnia per assensum magnatum de concilio
suo electorum, et sine eorum assensu nihil. We only in
loyal duty offer up our humble desires that, since his
Majesty hath, with advised judgment, elected so wise,
rehgious, and worthy servants to attend him in that
high employment, he will be pleased to advise with
them together, a way of remedy for those disasters in
state, led in by long security and happy peace, and
not with young and single council." ' Thus spoke
Sir Eobert Cotton, a man illustrious for his learning,
eloquence, and moderation, on the 6th of August,
1625 ; and the House, while protesting with him that
it had no intention to imitate the boldness of the
ParHament of bygone days, rejoiced to hear these
instances recalled to mind.
The King began to feel displeased ; however, he
made no complaint. Such language, though trouble-
some, did not as yet appear to be dangerous. Besides,
he was in want of subsidies. The last Parliament had
ardently desired war with Spain ; and the present one
could not reasonably refuse to carry it on. Charles
insisted that the means for so doing should be fur-
' Howell's Cottoni Postliuma, p. 281 ; Parliamentary History, vol. ii.
cols. 14—17.
142 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
nished him without delay ; and promised to redress all
just grievances.
But the House would no longer trust to promises,
even when made by a King who had never yet broken
liis word, and whom they regarded with esteem.
Princes inherit the faults as well as the thrones of
their predecessors. Charles thought that his subjects
should fear nothing from him, because he had done
them no harm ; the people were of opinion that all
past evils should be remedied, so that they might
have notliing to fear for the future. The Commons
granted at first only a slender subsidy, and the cus-
toms' duties were voted only for a year : this last vote
appeared an insult, and the Upper House refused to
sanction it. Less confidence, the Court inferred, was felt
in King Charles than in his predecessors, who had
always obtained the customs' duties for the entire
dm*ation of their reign. And yet the King had just
explained, with rare sincerity, the state of the finances
of the realm ; and had refused no document, and no
explanation, that had been demanded. The urgency
of his necessities was evident; and there was little
wisdom, thought the Lords, in so soon displeasing,
with no apparent motives, a young prince who had
manifested every disposition to maintain a good under-
standing with the Parliament.
The House of Commons did not declare that they
would not grant larger subsidies ; but continued their
examination of grievances, resolved (without however,
announcing their resolution) to obtain, in the first in-
stance, their redress. The King was indignant that
AlSiD THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 143
they should venture thus to lay down the law to him,
and suppose that he would either yield to force, or
find himself unable to continue the government. It
was neither more nor less than a usurpation of that
sovereignty which belonged to himself alone, and
which in no case should be compromised. The Parlia-
ment was dissolved on the 12th of August.
Thus, notwithstanding their mutual good will, the
prince and the people had met only to come into col-
hsion ; they separated, without either side feeling
itself weak or beheving itself in the wrong — equally
certain of the legitimacy of their pretensions, and
equally determined to persist in maintaining them.
The Commons protested that they were devoted to the
King, but that they would not sacrifice their liberties
to their devotion. The King declared that he respected
the liberties of his subjects, but that he would con-
trive to govern alone.
He began tliis experiment at once. Orders of Coun-
cil were addressed to the Lords-Lieutenants of the
counties, enjoining them to raise, by way of loan, the
money which the King needed.^ They were instructed
to apply for it to the wealthy citizens, and to transmit
to court the names of those who refused, or even de-
layed, to advance the necessarj; sums. Affection and
fear were thus rehed upon to produce the desired re-
sult. At the same time, a fleet put to sea to attempt
an expedition against Cadiz, the bay of which city was
crowded with richly-freighted vessels. In the mean-
while, to give some satisfaction to the people, the
' Old Parliamentary History, vol. vi. p. 407.
144 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
clergy received orders to proceed with severity against
all Papists ; they were forbidden to travel more than
five miles from their dwellings without special per-
mission ; they were commanded to recall from the
Continent their children whom they had sent thither
for education ; and they were disarmed. The Com-
mons had demanded their own liberties ; in return,
they were allowed a Httle tyranny over their enemies.
Tliis contemptible expedient did not satisfy them ;
and, moreover, the very persecution of the Papists
wore an equivocal and suspicious character ; for the
King either sold them indulgences, or secretly granted
them pardons. The loan supplied the treasury w4tli
but scanty funds ; the expedition against Cadiz failed ;
the people attributed this reverse to the incompetency of
the admiral and the drunkenness of the troops ; and the
government was accused of knowing neither how to
select its commanders, nor how to preserve the disci-
pline of its soldiers. Six months had scarcely elapsed
before a new Parliament was judged necessary : it met
on the Gth of February, 1626. Eancorous feehngs
had not yet taken very deep root in the young King's
heart ; and his despotism was at once confident and
timid. He believed that the Commons would be de-
lighted to meet again so soon ; and perhaps even he
hoped that the firmness which he had displayed would
be productive of greater complaisance on their part.
Besides, he had taken measures to exclude the most
popular speakers from the new Parliament. The Earl
of Bristol, a personal enemy of the Duke of Bucking-
ham, received no summons to attend. Sir Edvvard
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 145
Coke, Sir Eobert Philips, Sir Thomas Wentworth, Sir
Francis Sejmioiir, and others,^ were appointed sheriffs
of their counties, and could not therefore be elected as
their representatives. No doubt was entertained that,
in their absence, the House of Commons would prove
more tractable ; for, it was said, the people loved the
King, only a few factious persons led them astray.
But the Commons also thought that the King was
being led astray, and that, to restore him to his people,
it would be enough to deprive liim of his favoui'ite.
The first Parliament had confined itself to exacting
from the throne, by delay in granting subsidies, the
redress of public grievances ; the second Parhament
resolved to attack the author of all these grievances,
though he stood next to the throne. The Duke of
Buckingham was impeached on the 21st of February,
1626.
Buckingham was one of those men who seem born
to shine in courts, and to displease nations. Hand-
some, presumptuous, magnificent, daringly frivolous,
sincere and warm in his attachments, frank and
haughty in his enmities, equally incapable of virtue
and hypocrisy, he governed with no political design,
caring neither for the interests of the country, nor even
for those of the ruling power, but solely intent upon
increasing his own greatness, and upon the pleasure
of swaying his sovereign by the brilliancy of his
qualities. At one moment he had endeavoured to
make himself popular, and he had succeeded in the
• Seven in all ; the three others, of less celebrity, were Sir Grey
Palmer, Sir William Fleetwood, and Mr. Edward Alford.
VOL. I. L
]46 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
attempt ; the rupture of Charles's marriage with the
Infanta of Spain had been his work. But public
favour was to him only a means of using royal favour
as he pleased ; so that when he became unpopular
again, he scarcely perceived it, so proud was he of
having preserved that ascendancy over Charles which
he had so insolently exercised over James I. No
talent sustained his ambition ; frivolous passions were
the only object of his intrigues ; to seduce a woman,
or to ruin a rival, he would compromise, with arrogant
imprudence, the safety of his king or the welfare of
his country. The rule of such a man was regarded,
by a people who daily became more serious, as an
insult as well as a calamity ; and the duke continued
to appropriate to himself the highest offices in the
State, ^ without appearing, even in the eyes of the mul-
titude, anything more than an inglorious upstart, a
rash and incapable favourite.
The attack of the Commons was violent. It was
difficult to prove any legal crimes against Buckingham ;
so the House voted, on the 22nd of April, 1626, that
" common fame was a sufficient ground to proceed
' He was Duke, Marquis, and Earl of Buckingham, Earl of Coventry,
Viscount Villiers, Baron of Whaddon, Great Admiral of England and
Ireland, &c.. General Governor of the Seas and Ships of the same ;
Lieu tenant-General, Admiral, Captain- General, and Governor of his
Majesty's Fleet and Army ; Master of the Horse ; Lord "Warden, Chan-
cellor, and Admiral of the Cinque Ports ; Constable of Dover Castle,
Justice in Eyre of the Forest of Cliaces on this side the Trent, Con-
stable of the Castle of Windsor, Gentleman of the Bedchamber, Knight
of the Garter, Privy Councillor, &c. The value of the Crown lands
engrossed by him was estimated at 284,395Z. sterling, besides other ad-
vantages. — Brodie's History of the BritishEmpire, vol. ii. p. .122.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 147
upon,"' and collected together aU the heads of accusa-
tion suggested by public rumour. The duke vindi-
cated himself from most of these charges satisfactorily,
but fruitlessly. It was his bad government which the
House was anxious to reform ; and though innocent
of theft, assassination, or treason, Buckingham was
not the less pernicious. The boldness of the Commons
gave fresh courage to Court feuds. In March, 1626,
the Earl of Bristol complained of not having been
summoned to attend Parliament.^ Buckingham, who
feared him, wished to keep him out of the way. The
House of Lords acknowledged the Earl's right, and
Charles sent him a summons, but, at the same time,
commanded him to remain on his estates. The Earl
appealed again to the House, beseeching it to examine
whether the liberties of all the peers of the realm did
not require that he should come and take his seat.
The King immediately had him impeached of high
treason.^ In self-defence, Bristol, in his turn, im-
peached Buckingham,^ and Charles found his favourite
pursued at once by the representatives of the people
and by an old courtier.
Such a state as this was too menacing to his autho-
rity and too offensive to his pride. His opponents
had been unable to convict Buckingham of any crime .
their hostihty must therefore be directed against him
as the King's friend and minister. He said to the
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 52 — 55.
* Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 72—78.
^ On the 1st of May, 1626. Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 79—86.
* Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 86—88
L 2
148 HISTORY or CHARLES THE FIRST
Commons : "I must let you know that I will not
allow any of my servants to be questioned amongst
you, much less such as are of eminent place, and near
unto me. The old question was, ' Wliat shall be done to
the man whom the King will honour ?' But now it hath
been the labour of some to seek what may be done against
him whom the King thinks fit to honour
I wish you would hasten my supply, or else it will be
worse for yourselves ; for, if any iU happen, I think I
shall be the last that shall feel it."' At the same
time he forebade the judges to answer the questions
which the Upper House had submitted to them in
reference to an incident in the Earl of Bristol's trial, ^
fearing that their opinion might turn in his favour.
The judges were silent, but the House of Commons
pursued its course. On the 3rd of May, eight of its
members were appointed to manage the impeachment
of Buckingham, in a conference with the Upper
House. ^ When the conference was over, the King
committed two of the managers, Sir Dudley Digges
and Sir John Eliot, to the Tower, for insolent lan-
guage." Irritated by this proceeding, the House
declared that it would suspend all business until they
were set at liberty.^ In vain did the friends of the
court endeavour to alarm the House with regard to
* Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 50.
* Ibid., vol. ii. col. 105.
^ Journals of the House of Commons, vol. i. p. 854. These eight
managers were Sir Dudley Digges, Mr. Herbert, Mr. Selden, Mr. Glan-
ville, Mr. Pyne, Mr. Whitby, Mr. Wandesford, and Sir John Ehot.
•* Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 103.
* Ibid., vol ii. col. 119.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 149
the fate of the ParHament itself;' their menace ap-
peared only an insult, and they were obliged to apolo-
gise for having insinuated that the King might pro-
bably be tempted to govern alone, like the princes of
the Continent. The two prisoners were quickly dis-
charged from the Tower. ^
On its part the House of Peers demanded the hber-
ation of Lord Arundel, whom the King had impri-
soned during the session, and Charles yielded in this
case also.^
Tired of finding himself defeated by adversaries
whom he had called together and might at any time
disperse ; urged by his anxious favourite ; after
having tried a few acts of complaisance, wliicli were
always welcomed with delight, but which prevented no
movement of reform ; and hearing at length that the
House of Commons was preparing a general remon-
strance — Charles determined to deliver himself from a
position which humiliated him in the eyes of Europe
and in his own opinion. The report spread that the
Parliament was soon to be dissolved. The Upper
House, which w^as beginning to seek for popular
favour, hastened to address a petition to the King to
divert him from this design, and all the peers accom-
panied the committee which had been appointed to
present it. " No, not a minute !" exclaimed Charles,
in reply to their request for a longer sitting.* The
' May 13, 1626. Parliamentary History, vol. ii, col. 120.
* Ibid., vol. ii. col. 122, 124.
3 June 8, 1626. Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 125—132.
■* June 15, 1626. Ibid., vol. ii. col. 193.
15U HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
dissolution of Parliament was immediately pronounced,
and the reasons for it set forth in a royal declaration.
The projected remonstrance of the Commons was
pubhcly burnt, and all who possessed copies of it were
ordered to commit them to the flames.^ Lord Arundel
was placed under arrest again in his own house ; Lord
Bristol was sent to the Tower -^ the Duke of Buck-
ingham thought himself saved ; and Charles felt him-
self a King.
His joy was as short-lived as his foresight had been
limited; for absolute power has also its necessities.
Engaged in a ruinous war against Spain and Austria,
Charles had not an army at his disposal which he could
employ to vanquish his enemies and his subjects at the
same time. His land troops were few in number, ill-
disciphned, and exceedingly expensive ; Puritanism
prevailed among the sailors ; and he did not dare to
rely upon the militia, who were more under the in-
fluence of the citizens and county gentlemen than
under that of the King. He had put his opponents
out of the way, but not his embarrassments and obsta-
cles; and the reckless pride of Buckingham now
plunged him into fresh difficulties. To revenge himself
upon Cardinal Richelieu, who would not allow him to
return to Paris to follow up his daring successes with
Anne of Austria, he induced his master to enter into
a war with France. The interests of Protestantism
served as his pretext -. it was indispensable to raise the
siege of La Rochelle, and to prevent the ruin of the
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 207.
'' Ibid., vol. ii. col. 193.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 151
French reformers. It was hoped that, in such a cause
as this, the people would arm with passionate zeal, or
at least allow themselves to be easily oppressed.
A general loan was ordered, of the same amount as
the subsidies which the Parliament had promised, but
not voted. The commissioners were instructed to in-
terrogate all recalcitrants regarding the reasons of
their refusal ; and to learn who had induced them to
refuse, what arguments had been used to persuade
them to do so, and what was the object in view. This
was at once an attack upon the fortunes, and an inqui-
sition into the opinions, of the people. Regiments
were sent into the counties, and quartered upon the
inhabitants. The ports and maritime districts received
orders to furnish ships fully armed and equipped for
war ; tliis was the first attempt at ship-money. Twenty
were demanded of the City of London : the citizens
replied that Queen Elizabeth had not required so many
to repel the invincible Armada of Philip II. ; but they
were told in answer that " the precedents in former
times were obedience and not direction."^ To justify
this language, passive obedience was preached in every
dhection. The Archbishop of Canterbury, George
Abbot, a popular prelate, refused to authorise the sale
of such sermons in his diocese ; he was suspended and
exiled.^
The King had presumed too much upon the passions
of the people ; but they would not allow themselves
to be persuaded to forget their liberty in the service
* Whitelocke's Memorials, p. 7.
^ Ibid., p. 8.
152 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
of their faith. Moreover, they greatly distrusted the
sincerity of this sudden zeal ; if they were left free,
and if the Parliament were called together, they were
willing to grant much more vigorous help to the Pro-
testants on the Continent. Many citizens refused to
take any part in the loan : those of the recusants who
were obscure and weak were forced to enlist into the
army or the fleet ; the others were either cast into
prisons, or despatched on distant missions which it
was impossible to decline. The public discontent,
though it did not break out into sedition, was not
satisfied with mere murmurs of complaint. Five gen-
tlemen, who had been imprisoned by virtue of an
order in council, claimed of the Court of King's
Bench, as the right of every Englishman, to be dis-
charged on bail.^ An imperious King and an irritated
people were equally anxious that the case should be
decided. The King required that the judges should
lay it down as a principle, that no man arrested by his
order should be admitted to bail ; the people desired
to know whether the defenders of their hberties were
to be deprived of all security. The Court rejected the
application of the prisoners, on the 28th of November,
1627, and sent them back to prison, but without laying
down the general principle which the King demanded.^
Thus already the magistrates, under the influence of a
double fear, dared not prove themselves either servile
^ Their names were Sir Thomas Darnel, Sir John Corbet, Sir Walter
Earle, Sir John Heveningham, and Sir Edmund Hampden. This last-
named gentleman must not be mistaken for his cousin, John Hampden,
afterwards so celebrated.
^ Cobbett's State Trials, vol. iii. cols. 1 — 59.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 153
or just; and to escape from their dilemma, they re-
fused their sanction to despotism, and to hberty their
support.
In their jealous ardour for the maintenance of all
their rights, the people took under their protection even
the soldiers who acted as the instruments of tyranny.
Complaints were made of their excesses on every side,
and martial law was brought into operation to repress
them. It was immediately thought improper that such
arbitrary power should be exercised without the con-
sent of Parliament, and that Englishmen, whether
soldiers or otherwise, whether employed in harassing
or in protecting their follow-citizens, should be de-
prived of the securities furnished by law.
In the midst of this still impotent but increasingly
aggressive irritation, news arrived that the expedition
wliich had been sent to succour La Rochelle, and which
Buckingham commanded in person, had altogether
failed on the 28th of October, 1627. The incompe-
tency of the general had occasioned this reverse. He
had been able neither to take possession of the isle of
Rhe, nor to re-embark without losing the flower of his
troops, both officers and men. It was long since
England had paid so dearly for so much shame. ^ In
both town and country a multitude of families, be-
loved and respected by the people, were in mourning.
The popular indignation knew no bounds. The hus-
bandman left his fields, and the apprentice his work-
' This disaster is described with great energy in a letter from HoUis
to Sir Thomas Wentworth, on the 19th of November, 1627. Strafford's
Letters and Despatches, vol. i. pp. 41, 42.
154 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
shop, to inquire whether his employer, gentleman or
citizen, had not lost a son or a brother, and he re-
turned to relate to his neighbours the disasters which
had taken place, and the grief which he had witnessed,
cursing Buckingham and accusing the King. Losses
of another nature served still more to exasperate the
public mind ; the enemy's fleets disturbed and dimi-
nished English commerce ; trading vessels remained
in the ports ; and hosts of idle sailors talked of the
reverses of the royal navy, and the causes of their own
inaction. From day to day the gentr}^, the citizens,
and the people became more closely united in one
common feehng of angry dissatisfaction.
On his return, and notwithstanding his arrogance,
Buckingham felt the weight of public dislike, and the
necessity of escaping from it ; and moreover it had be-
come indispensable to find some expedient for extri-
cating the government from its embarrassed position
and procuring resources. All that could be done or
devised to obtain money by tyrannical means had been
tried and found unavaiHng. Sir Robert Cotton, as
the most moderate of the popular leaders, was called
to the councils of the King. He spoke with wdsdom
and candour, insisting upon the just grievances of the
nation, and the necessity of redressing them in order
to obtain its support, and quoted the advice of Lord
Burleigh to Queen Elizabeth : — •" Win their hearts,
and you may have their hands and purses."^ He
suofirested that a new Parliament should be called :
and with a view to reconcile the Duke of Buckingham
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 214.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 155
with the public, it was agreed that, in the meeting of
council at which this resolution was officially adopted,
the proposition should be made by him. The King
yielded to Sir Robert's advice.
Immediately the prisons were tin-own open ; the
men who had been confined in them on account
of their resistance to tyranny were now abruptly
liberated.^ Though insulted yesterday, they were
powerful to-day. Public favour received them with
transports of joy ; twenty. seven of them were elected
members of the new ParHament, which met on the
17th of March, 1G28.
" Grentlemen," said the King, on opening the session,
"every man must now do according to his conscience;
wherefore if you (which Grod forbid !) should not do
your duties in contributing what the State at this
time needs, I must, in discharge of my conscience, use
those other means which God hath put into my hands
to save that which the follies of some particular men
may otherwise hazard to lose. Take not this as a
threatening (for I scorn to threaten any but my
equals), but an admonition from him that, both out of
nature and duty, hath most care of your preservations
and prosperities, and who hopes that your demeanours
at this time will be such as shall not only make me
approve your former counsels, but lay on me such
obhgations as shall bind me, by way of thankfulness,
to meet often with you."^
The Lord Keeper, speaking after the King, added :
' To the number of seventy-eight. Rushworth, vol. i. p. 473.
^ Parhameutary History, vol. ii. col. 218.
156 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
" His Majesty hath chosen this mode (of raising siip-
pHes), not as the only way, but as the fittest ; not
as destitute of others, but as most agreeable to the
goodness of his own most gracious disposition, and to
the desire and weal of his people. If this be deferred,
necessity and the sword of the enemy will make way
to the others. Remember His Majesty's admonition ;
I say, remember it."^
Thus Charles endeavoured, by his language, to belie
his position ; a haughty solicitor, bowing under the
weight of his reverses and mistakes, he threatened to
display that absolute and independent majesty which
is superior to all faults and all defeats. He was so
infatuated by this idea that he never entertained the
thought that his royalty could suffer any attack ; and,
full of genuine arrogance, he thought it due to his
honour and his rank to reserve to himself the rights
and tone of tyranny, even while he was seeking the
aid of liberty.
The Commons were not at all alarmed by these
threats ; their minds were occupied by an idea no less
lofty and no less unyielding. They were resolved
solemnly to assert their liberties, to compel the ruling
power to acknowledge them as primitive and inde-
pendent, and no longer to suffer a right to pass for a
concession, or an abuse to be termed a right. Neither
leaders nor soldiers were wanting to carry out this
great design. The entire people thronged around the
Parliament. Within its walls, its counsels were guided
by men of consummate ability and boldness. Sir
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 221.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 157
Edward Coke/ the glory of the bench, and not less illus-
trious for his firmness than for his learning ; Sir Thomas
Wentworth, afterwards Earl of Strafford,^ yo^^iig' ar-
dent, and eloquent, born to command, and whose ambi-
tion was then contented with the admiration of his
country ; Denzil Hollis,^ a younger son of Lord Clare,
a companion of Charles's cliildhood, but a sincere
friend of liberty, and too proud to serve under a
favourite ; John Pym,^ a learned lawyer, especially
versed in the knowledge of the rights and usages of
Parliament, a man of cool and daring character, ca-
pable of proceeding with caution even when at the
head of popular passions ; and many others, destined
to meet with most various fates in that future which
not one of them anticipated, and to serve hostile
causes, though now united by common principles and
aspirations. To this formidable coalition the court
could only oppose the force of habit, the capricious
temerity of Buckingham, and the obstinate pride of
the King.
The first communications between the prince and
the Parhament were of a friendly character. In spite
of liis menaces, Charles felt that he would have to
yield; and the Commons, though determined to re-
' Born at Mileham, Norfolk, on the 1st of February, 1551 ; he was
then seventy-seven years of age.
- Born in Chancery Lane, London, on the 13th of April, 1593 ; he
was then- thirty-five years of age.
^ Born at Haughton, Nottinghamshire, in 1597 ; he was then thirty-
one years of age.
•* Born in Somersetshire, in 1584 ; he was then forty-four years of
age.
158 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
possess themselves of all their rights, fully intended, at
the same time, to give proof of their devotedness to
their sovereign. Charles took no offence at their free-
dom of speech, and, indeed, their speeches were as loyal
as they were free. " I humbly beseech the House,"
said Sir Benjamin Eudyard, on the 22nd of March,
1628, "to be curiously wary and careful to avoid all
manner of contestation, personal or real. The hearts
of kings are great, as are their fortunes ; then are they
fitted to yield when they are yielded unto. Let us
give the King a way to come off like himself; for I do
verily believe that he doth, with longing, expect the
occasion. Let our whole labour and endeavours be to
get the King on our side, for then shall we obtain
whatsoever we can reasonably expect or desire."^ All
minds did not entertain such pacific thoughts ; there
were sterner men who less clearly foresaw the evils of
fresh rupture, and who better understood the incor-
rigible nature of absolute power. All, however, ap-
peared to be actuated by the same desu-es ; and the
House, pursuing its investigation into the nation's
grievances at the same time as its consideration of the
King's necessities, unanimously voted, on the 4th of
April, after a fortnight's session, subsidies of con-
siderable amount, but without, however, immediately
converting their vote into a law.
The joy of Charles was extreme ; he at once con-
voked his council,^ and informed it of the vote, of the
House. " I liked Parliament at first," he said, " yet
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 23.5.
^ On the nth of April, 1628.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 159
since, I know not how, I had grown to a distaste of
them ; but now I am where I was before ; for I love
them, and shall rejoice to meet with my people often.
This day I have gained more reputation in Christen-
dom than if I had won many battles." Equal joy
was manifested by the Council ; Buckingham thought
himself bound, like Charles, openly to express his de-
light; and he congratulated the King on his happy
agreement with his Parliament. '' This," he said, " is
not a gift of five subsidies alone, but the opening of a
mine of subsidies that lieth in their hearts. Now, Sir, to
open my heart and to ease my grief, please you to pardon
me a word more. I must confess I have long lived in
pain ; sleep hath given me no rest, favours and fortunes
no content ; such have been my secret sorrows to be
thought the man of separation, that divided the King
from his people, and them from him. But I hope it
shall appear they were some mistaken minds that
would have made me the evil spirit that walketh be-
tween a good master and loyal people, by iU offices ;
whereas, by your Majesty's favour, I shall ever en-
deavour to prove myself a good spirit, breathing no-
thing but the best services to them all."'
Cooke, the Secretary of State, reported to the House,
on the 7th of April, the King's satisfaction, and the
favour which he was ready in all things to show
to the Parliament. The Commons were deligrhted at
this ; but Cooke, with the imprudent servility of a
courtier, alluded also to the Duke of Buckingham,
* Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 274, 275.
160 HISTORY or CHARLES THE FIRST
and to his speech in the Council. At this the House
was offended. " I observe," said Sir John Eliot, " in
the close of Mr. Secretary's relation, mention made of
another in addition to his Majesty. I know not by
what fatality or infortunity it has crept in. Is it that
any man conceives the mention of others, of what
quahty soever, can add encouragement or affection to
us, in our duties and loyalties towards his Majesty?
or give them greater latitude or extent than naturally
they have ? Or is it supposed that the power or in-
terest of any man can add more readiness to his Ma-
jesty in his gracious inclination towards us, than his
own goodness gives him ? I cannot believe it. I con-
fess, for my own particular, I shall readily commend,
nay, thank that man whose endeavours are applied to
such offices as may be advantageable for the public ;
yet in this manner, so contrary to the customs of our
fathers, and the honour of our times, as I cannot, with-
out scandal, apprehend it, so I cannot, without some
character or exception, pass it. And, therefore, I
desire that such interposition may be let alone ; and
that all his Majesty's regards and goodnesses towards
the House may spring alone from his confidence of
our loyalty and affection. Now let us proceed to those
services that concern him ; which I doubt not, in the
end, wiU render us so real unto him, that we shall need
no other help to endear us to his favour.'"
This just pride was regarded by Charles as insolence,
while to Buckingham it appeared a certain presage of
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 275, 276.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 161
fresh dangers ; but neither the one nor the other made
any manifestation of their secret feelings, and tlip
House pursued its labours.
It had opened a conference with the Upper House
to determine, in concert with it, the just rights of the
subject, and to demand of the King a new and solemn
ratification of those rights.' On being informed of the
intentions displayed at these conferences, by the com-
missioners of the Commons, Charles took great um-
brage at their proceedings. On the 13th of April, the
House was urged by his Ministers to hasten the defi-
nitive vote of the subsidies ; and Secretary Cooke
added : "I must with some grief tell you that notice
is taken, as if this House pressed not only upon the
abuse of power, but upon power itself. This toucheth
the King, and us who are supported by that power.
Let the King hear of any abuses of power ; he will
willingly hear us ; and let us not bend ourselves against
the extension of his royal power, but contain ourselves
within those bounds, that we meddle only with pres-
sures and abuses of power ; and we shall liave the
best satisfaction that ever King gave,"*
The House of Peers, on their part, moved by feel-
ings of servility or timidity, advised the Commons to
content themselves with demanding from the King a
declaration stating that Magna Charta, with the sta-
tutes which had been passed in confirmation of it, was
still in full force ; that the liberties of the English
people subsisted as in past times ; and that the King
' This conference began on the 3rd of April, 1 628.
■•^ Parhamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 278, 279.
VOL. L M
162 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
would use the prerogative, inherent in his sovereignty,
solely for the advantage of his subjects. These propo-
sitions were laid before the Conference on the 23rd of
April.^
On the 28th of April, the King assembled both
Houses in a solemn sitting, and assured them that " he
held the statute of Magna Charta, and the other six
statutes insisted upon for the subject's liberty, to be
all in force ; that he would maintain all his subjects
in the just freedom of their persons, and safety of their
estates ; that he would govern according to the laws
and statutes of the realm ; and that they would find as
much security in his royal word and promise, as in the
strength of any law they could make."^
The Commons allowed themselves to be neither
intimidated nor seduced ; recent abuses had defied
the authority, and exceeded the provisions, of the
ancient laws ; it had become necessary to obtain new
and explicit securities, invested with the sanction of
the entire Parliament. It was of no advantage
vaguely to renew promises which had been so often
violated, and statutes which had been so long for-
gotten. Without any waste of words, the House,
respectfully but resolutely, drew up the famous biU,
known as the Petition of Right, adopted it, and trans-
mitted it to the Upper House for its assent, on the
8th of May, 1628.
The Lords had nothing to say against a bill which
merely asserted acknowledged liberties, or repressed
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 329, 330.
- Ibid., vol. ii. col. 332.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 163
abuses which were held in universal reprobation.
The King, however, returned to the charge, again
demanding that they should rely upon his word, and
offering to confirm Magna Charta and the ancient
statutes, by a new bill. He sent advice after advice
to the Lords, and message after message to the
Commons ; though deeply irritated, he was prudent
and moderate in his language, merely declaring his fixed
resolution neither to suffer any curtailment of his
prerogatives, nor ever to abuse the rights which he
possessed.
The perplexity of the peers was great. How could
they secure the liberties of the people without
depriving the King of absolute power ? This was the
question at issue. An amendment was attempted ;
and the bill was adopted, on the 17th of May, with
this addition : — " We humbly present this Petition to
yom' Majesty, not only with a care of preserving our
own Hberties, but with due regard to leave entire that
sovereign power wherewith your Majesty is trusted,
for the protection, safety, and happiness of your
people."^
When the bill thus amended came back to the
Commons, — " Let us look into the records," said Mr.
Alford, " and see what they are. What is ' sovereign
power ? ' Bodin saith that it is free from any condi-
tions. By this we shaU acknowledge a regal as well
as a legal power. Let us give that to the King the
law gives him, and no more." "I am not able," said
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 355.
M 2
164 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
Mr. Pym, " to speak to this question, for I know not
what it is. All oui- Petition is for the laws of
England ; and this power seems to be another distinct
power from the power of the law. I know how to
add sovereign to the King's person, but not to his
power ; and we cannot ' leave ' to him a ' sovereign
power;' for we never were possessed of it." " If we
do admit of this addition," said Sir Thomas Went-
worth, " we shall leave the subject worse than we
found him. Oiu* laws are not acquainted with ' sove-
reign power.' We desire no new thing, nor do we
offer to trench on liis Majesty's prerogative ; but we
may not recede from this Petition, either in part or in
whole." ^
The House of Commons maintained its ground ;
the public became urgent ; and the Peers, too timid
openly to demand liberty, were also too timid to give
a direct sanction to tyranny. They withdrew their
amendment : out of regard for them, an unmeaning-
phrase was substituted in its stead ; and the Petition
of Right, as adopted by both Houses, was solemnly
presented to the King, who, overcome by their perse-
verance, at length consented to receive it, on the 2Sth
of May, 16.28.
His answer, given on the 2nd of June, was vague
and evasive -^ he did not sanction the bill, but merely
reiterated those promises with which the House had
already refused to be satisfied.
' 18th of May, 1G28 ; Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 356—359.
■' Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 374—377.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 105
Victory seemed likely to escape tlie Commons. On
their return to the House tlie next day/ they resumed
the attack. Sir John Eliot vehemently recapitulated
all the grievances of the nation ; and the serjeant was
ordered to stand at the door, and prevent any member
from leaving the House, on pain of being committed
to the Tower. It was determined that a general
remonstrance should be presented to the King ; and
the committee of subsidies was directed to prepare it.
Fear already filled many minds — that honest fear
which is occasioned by the prospect of a great dis-
turbance, and which, without stopping to inquire who
is in the right, or what ought to be. done, wishes to
pause as soon as it perceives any symptoms of
passionate haste. Sir John Eliot was accused of
being actuated by personal animosities ; Sir Thomas
Wentworth was charged with imprudence : while Sir
Edward Coke, it was said, had always been obstinate
and factious." The King imagined that this state of
feeling would furnish him with the means of delay, if
not of final victory. He sent a message to the
Commons, on the 5th of June, forbidding them to
interfere henceforward in affairs of State. ^
The whole House was tlu'own into consternation ;
this was too much to be borne ; even the most
moderate regarded it as an insult. Silence prevailed
for some time ; at length Sir John Ehot said : — " Our
sins are so exceeding great, that unless we speedily
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 380.
' Ibid., vol, ii. col. 385.
3 Ibid., vol. ii. col. 401.
166 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
turn to God, God will remove himself further from us.
Ye know with what affection and integrity we have
proceeded hitherto to have gained his Majesty's heart.
I doubt a misrepresentation to his Majesty hath drawn
this mark of his displeasure upon us. I observe, in
the message, it is said as if we cast some aspersions on
his Majesty's ministers. I am confident no minister,
how dear soever, can "
At these words, the Speaker rose hastily from his
chair, and said, with tears in his eyes : — " There
is a command laid upon me to interrupt any that
should go about to lay an aspersion upon the minis-
ters of State." Upon this, Sir John Ehot resumed
his seat.
" Unless we may speak of these things in Parha-
ment," said Sir Dudley Digges, " let us arise and
begone, or sit still and do nothing." Hereupon a deep
silence again prevailed.
"We must now speak," cried Sir Nathaniel Rich,
at length, " or for ever hold our peace ; for us to be
silent, when King and kingdom are in this calamity,
is not fit. The question is, whetlier we shall secure
ourselves by silence — yea or no ? I know it is more
for our own security, but it is not for the security of
tliose for whom we serve : let us think on them. Some
instruments desire a change ; we fear for his Majesty's
safety, and the safety of the kingdom. I do not say
we now see it ; and shall we now sit still and do
nothing, and so be scattered ? Let us go to the
Lords and show our dangers, that we may then go to
the King together, with our representation thereof."
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 167
Suddenly the House passed from stupor to rage ;
all the Members rose from their seats, all began to
speak at once, and the utmost confusion prevailed.
" The King is as good a prince as ever reigned," said
Mr. Kirton ; " it is the enemies to the Commonwealth
that have so prevailed with him : therefore, let us aim
now to discover them ; and I doubt not but that God
will send us hearts, hands, and swords, to cut all His
and our enemies' throats." " It is not the King," said
old Sir Edward Coke, " but the Duke that saith : 'We
require you not to meddle with State-government, or
the members thereof.' " A general cry arose — " 'Tis
he ! 'tis he ! " The Speaker had left his chair ; the
disorders continued to increase in the House, and the
minds of the Members momently became more
inflamed; no one attempted to calm the storm, for
the prudent men had nothing to say. Anger is
sometimes legitimate, even in the eyes of those who
never grow angry. ^
Wliilst the House, amidst all this tumult, was
meditating the most violent resolutions, the Speaker
went out secretly and with all haste, to inform the
King of the evil and the danger.^ Fear passed from
the House to the Court. On the very next day, a
milder message was sent to explain that which had
caused so much irritation -^ but words could not
suffice. The House continued in great agitation;
mention was made of certain German troops which
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 402 — 404.
^ Ibid., vol. ii. col. 405.
3 Ibid., vol. ii. col. 406.
168 HISTORY OP CHARLES THE FIRST
had already been levied by Buckingham, and were
shortly expected to disembark ; and one member
asserted that, on the previous evening, twelve Grerman
officers had arrived in London, and that two English
vessels had received orders to bring over the soldiers.'
The subsidies were still in suspense. Charles and his
favourite were afraid any longer to brave an irrita-
tion which daily grew more violent. They had no
doubt that the full sanction of the Petition of Right
would be sufficient to restore perfect tranquillity. On
the 7th of June, the King repaired to the House of
Peers, where the Commons had also assembled. They
had been mistaken, he said, in supposing that there
had been any ambiguity in his first answer, and he
was now ready to give them one which would banish
all suspicion. The Petition was then read over again,
and Charles answered by the usual formula : — Soit
droit fait comme il est desire.^
The Commons returned in triumph ; they had at
length extorted a solemn recognition of the liberties
of the English people. It now became necessary to
give all possible publicity to this recognition ; and it
was agreed that the Petition of Eight should be
printed with the King's last answer, distributed all
over the country, and registered, not only in both
Houses of Parliament, but also in the Courts at
Westminster. The bill of subsidies was finally
adopted. Charles thought his trials were now at an
' Parliamentary History, vol, ii. col. 408 ; Rushworth, vol. i. p. 612.
* Ibid., vol. ii. col. 4O0.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. l()9
end. " I have done my part," he said, " wherefore if
this Parliament hath not a happy conclusion, the sin
is yours ; I am free of it."^
But an evil of long standing cannot be so quickly
cured, and the ambition of an irritated people is never
satisfied with its first success. Evidently, the sanction
of the Bill of Eights could not be sufficient : it con-
summated merely the reform of principles, which was
of no avail unless accompanied by a reform of prac-
tices •; and to insure this, it was necessary to change
the King's advisers. Buckingham still maintained his
position, and the King continued to levy the customs'
duties without the sanction of Parliament. En-
lightened by experience with regard to the danger of
delay, blinded by passion to the peril of too abrupt
and harsh requirements, and animated as much by
pride and hatred as by an instinctive feeling of the
necessity of the step, the Commons resolved to lose no
time in dealing their final blows. Within a week,
two new remonstrances were drawn up — one against
the Duke of Buckingham, on the 13th of June — the
other, on the 21st, to estabhsh that tonnage and
poundage, like all other taxes, could not be levied
without the authority of law.^
The King lost aU patience, and, determined to
obtain at least a little respite, he went down to the
House of Lords, summoned the Commons to attend
him, and prorogued the Parliament, on the 20th of
June.
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 409.
^ Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 420, 4.31.
170 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
Two months after, on the 23rd of August, the Duke
of Bucking-ham was assassinated. Sewn up in the hat
of Felton, his murderer, a paper was found, in which
reference was made to the last Remonstrance of the
House. ^ Felton made no attempt to escape or to
defend himself; he merely said that he regarded the
duke as an enemy of the kingdom, shook his head
when asked if he had any accomplices, and met his
death with calmness ; confessing, however, that he
had done wrong.^
Charles was made anxious by so great a crime, and
indignant at the joy which the populace displayed at
the murder. After the close of the session, he had
attempted to gratify the wishes of the people by
discountenancing the preachers of passive obedience,
and by authorizing severe proceedings against the
Papists, who were offered up as victims to promote
reconciliations between the King and the country.
The assassination of Buckingham, from which the
people expected to gain deliverance, made the King
recur to measures of tyranny. He restored to favour
the opponents of the Parliament ; Dr. Montague, who
had been prosecuted by the House of Commons, was
promoted to the bishopric of Chichester; Dr. Man-
waring, who had been condemned by the House of
Peers, received a rich benefice ; and Bishop Laud,^
already famous for his passionate attachment to the
' See Appendix II.
^ Clarendon, vol. i. pp. 51—53 ; State Trials, vol. iii. pp. 3G7— 372.
^ Born at Reading, on the 7th of October, 1573. He was at this
time fifty-four years of age, and filled the sec of Bath and Wells.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 171
authority of Church and Kmg, was translated to the
see of London. The King's pubhc actions were in
conformity with these court favours ; tonnage and
poundage continued to be strictly levied, and ex-
ceptional tribunals constantly suspended the regular
course of law. Now that he had quietly returned to
a career of despotism, Charles might even promise
himself greater success than he had previously met
with. He had detached from the popular party the
most brilliant of its leaders, and the most eloquent of its
orators. Sir Thomas Wentworth, was created a baron,
and became a member of the privy council, in spite of
the reproaches and even threats of his former friends.
" Though you have left us, I wiU not leave you whilst
your head is on your shoulders/' said Pym to him
when he bade him farewell / but Wentworth, haughty
and ambitious, hastened passionately forward on the
path to greatness, far from foreseeing how ominous
to liberty his career would one day prove. Other
defections followed his \ and Charles, surrounded by
new advisers, more serious, more capable, and less
unpopular than Buckingham had been, awaited,
without apprehension, the approach of the second
session of Parhament. It met on the 20th of
January, 1629.
On the day following its meeting, the House of
Commons desired to ascertain what effect had been
given to the Bill of Eights. They learned that, in-
> Rose's Biographical Dictionary, art. " Wentworth."
^ Sir Dudley Digges, Sir Edward Littleton, Noy, Wandesford, and
others.
172 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
stead of the King's second answer, the first, tlie eva-
sive and rejected answer, had been appended to it.
The King's printer, Norton, confessed that, on tlie
day following the prorogation, he had received orders
to make this alteration of the legal text, and to sup-
press all the copies which contained the true answer —
that of which Charles had boasted, when he said, " I
have done my part ; I am free of it."
The Commons sent for the papers, verified the
alteration, and said no more about it — feeling, as it
were, ashamed to expose too pubhcly such a disgrace-
ful breach of faith ; but their silence was no promise of
obhvion.^
All sorts of attacks were renewed against toleration
of the Papists, the favour accorded to false doctrines,
the depravation of morals, the unfair distribution of
dignities and employments, the proceedings of the
irregular courts, and the contempt shown for the
Kberty of the subject.'
So great was the irritation of the House that one
day^ it listened, with much silence and considerable
favour, to an unknown and ill-dressed man, of coarse
appearance, who, speaking for the first time, de-
nounced, in furious and uncouth kinguage, the indul-
gence shown by one of the bishops to an obscure
preacher — a flat Papist, he said. This man was Oliver
Cromwell.^
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 435 — 4.37.
^ Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 438, 443, 466, 473.
3 On the lltli of February, 1629.
* Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 404 ; Warwick's Memoirs, p. 247.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 173
Charles strove in vain to extort from the Commons
the concession of the customs' duties, which, to him,
was the sole object of their present meeting. He em-
ployed sometimes threats, and sometimes persuasion ;
admitting that he enjoyed these taxes, like all others,
by the pure gift of his people, and that it was the privi-
lege of Parliament alone to establish them ; but insist-
ing, at the same time, that they should be granted to
him, as they had been to most of his predecessors, for
the whole duration of his reign.' The Commons were
inflexible : this was the only weapon which remained
to them, by which they could defend themselves
against the encroachments of absolute power. Whilst
apologizmg for their delay, they persisted in it, and
continued to set forth their grievances — but without
any fixed aim, without asserting any clear and definite
pretensions, as during the previous session — a prey to
violent but vague disquietude, and agitated by the
consciousness of an evil which they knew not how to
cure. The King grew tired of this state of suspense ;
his demands were refused without any petition having
been made to him, without any application having
been addressed to him, which he could either grant or
reject ; the delay seemed to be originated by pure male-
volence, and with no other object than to trammel his
government. It was announced that he intended to
adjourn both Houses. On the 2nd of March, Sir John
Ehot hastily proposed a new remonstrance against the
levying of tonnage and poundage. The Speaker,
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 442, 44.3.
174 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
alleging the King's command, refused to put the mo-
tion to the vote. The House insisted ; he left the
chair ; but Hollis, Valentine, and several other members
forced him back to his seat, notwithstanding the efforts
of the Court party to deliver him from their hands.
" Grod's wounds," said Hollis, " you shall sit still, till
it pleases the House to rise." " I will not say I will
not," cried the Speaker, " but I dare not." But
passion had now lost all check, and he was compelled
to resume his seat. The King, on being informed of
the tumult, sent orders to the Sergeant-at-arms to
withdraw with the mace, and thus legally suspend all
further debate ; but the Sergeant was detained as weU
as the Speaker ; the keys of the door were taken from
him, and given in charge to Sir Miles Hobart, one of the
members. The King sent a second messenger to pro-
claim the dissolution of the Parliament ; but he found
the doors locked on the inside, and could not gain
admittance. Charles, in a fury, sent for the captain
of his guard, and commanded him to break open the
doors. But, in the meanwhile, the Commons had
retired, after having adopted a protestation which
rendered the levying of tonnage and poundage duties
illegal, and declared all who should levy or even pay
them traitors to their country.^
All reconcihation was now impossible. The King
went down to the House of Lords : "I never came
here," he said, "upon so unpleasing an occasion — it
being for the dissolution of the Parliament. It is
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 487—491.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 175
odIj the disobedient carriage of tlie Lower House that
hath caused this dissolution at this time. Yet I must
needs say that they do mistake me wonderfully that
think I lay the fault equally upon all the Lower
House ; for, as I know there are as many as dutiful
and loyal subjects as any are in the world, so I know
that it was only some vipers amongst them that had
cast this mist of difference before their eyes. To con-
clude, my lords ; as those evil-affected persons must
look for their rewards, so you that are here of the
Higher House may justly claim from me that protec-
tion and favour, that a good King oweth to his loyal
and faithful subjects."^
The dissolution of the Parliament was then pro-
nounced. Soon after, a declaration appeared to the
effect that : — " Whereas, for several ill ends, the calling
again of a Parliament is divulged ; howsoever his
Majesty hath showed, by his frequent meeting with
his people, his love to the use of Parhament ; yet, this
late abuse having for the present di-iven liis Majesty
unwilling out of that course, he shall account it pre-
sumption for any one to prescribe any time to his
Majesty for Parliaments ; the calling, contriving and
dissolving of them being always in the King's own
"2
power.
Charles kept his word : henceforward his only
anxiety was to govern alone.
• Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 492.
* Ibid., vol. ii. col. 525.
170 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
BOOK II.
DESIGNS OF THE KING AND HIS COUNCIL — PROSECUTION OF THE PAR-
LIAMENTARY LEADERS — APPARENT APATHY OF ENGLAND — STRUGGLE
BETWEEN THE MINISTERS AND THE COURT — THE QUEEN —STRAFFORD
LAUD — DISUNION AND UNPOPULARITY OF THE GOVERNMENT — CIVIL
AND RELIGIOUS TYRANNY — ITS EFFECTS UPON THE VARIOUS CLASSES
OF THE NATION — TRIAL OF PRYNNE, BURTON, AND BASTWICK — TRIAL OF
HAMPDEN — INSURRECTION IN SCOTLAND — FIRST WAR WITH THE SCOTS
— PEACE OF BERWICK — SHORT PARLIAMENT OF 1640 — SECOND WAR WITH
THE SCOTS — ITS ILL SUCCESS — CONVOCATION OF THE LONG PARLIA-
MENT.
Nothing is so dangerous as to take a system of govern-
ment as it were on trial, and to think that it may at
any time be exchanged for another, if necessity should
require. Charles the First had committed this fault.
He had attempted to govern in concert with the Parlia-
ment ; but at the same time he had felt persuaded, and
had constantly declared, that, if the Parhament were too
untractable, he would easily dispense with its co-opera-
tion. He entered upon a career of despotism with the
same thoughtlessness, announcing his intention to
follow it up, but inwardly thinking that, after all, if
his necessities became too pressing, he could have
recourse to Parliament whenever he pleased.
This was also the opinion of his ablest advisers.
Neither Charles himself, nor any one of his adherents.
A'ND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 177
then entertained the slightest idea of irrevocabljr
aboKshing the ancient laws, and the great national
council of England. More imprudent than audacious,
and more insolent than perverse, their words, and even
their actions, exceeded the limits of their intentions.
The King, they said to themselves, had behaved
with justice and kindness towards his people ; he had
conceded much, and had freely granted more. But no
concessions had satisfied the House of Commons ; they
had required that the King should acknowledge his
dependence upon them, and place himself under their
tutelage ; and this he could not do without ceasing to
be King. If the prince and his Parliament could not
come to an agreement, it behoved the Parliament to
yield, for the prince alone was sovereign. As the
House would not give way, the King must govern
without its assistance : the necessity was evident ;
sooner or later the people would understand it ; and
then, when the Parliament had become wiser, nothing
would prevent the King from calling it together again,
in case of need.
More short-sighted even than the council, the Court
regarded the dissolution merely as a deliverance.
Whilst the House of Commons was in session, the
courtiers were a prey to great uneasiness ; no man
dared boldly to push his fortune, or openly to enjoy
his credit. The embarrassments of the supreme power
trammelled the intrigues, and cast gloom over the
festivities, of Wliitehall. The King was anxious, and
the Queen intimidated. Wben Parliament was dis-
solved, this disquietude and constraint disappeared ;
VOL. J. N
178 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
frivolous grandeur recovered its magnificence, and
domestic ambition regained its liberty. The Court
asked for nothing more ; and cared little to inquire
whether, in order to gratify its desires, a change must
be effected in the government of the country.
The people judged otherwise. The dissolution was,
in their eyes, a certain symptom of a deep-laid plot,
of a resolute determination, to abolish Parliaments.
No sooner had the House of Commons been dissolved,
than at Hampton Court, at Wliitehall, and wherever
the court was wont to reside, the Papists, whether
secret or avowed, the advocates and servants of absolute
power, and the men of intrigue and pleasm-e, who pro-
fessed indifference to all creeds, mutually congratu-
lated themselves upon their triumph; whilst in the
Tower, and in the principal prisons of London and the
counties, the assertors of public rights, treated at once
with contempt and severity, were confined and im-
peached for what they had said or done within the
inviolable sanctuary of Parliament.^ They claimed
their privileges, and demanded to be released on bail ;
the judges hesitated to reply ; but, in September, 1629,
the King sent a message to the judges, and the requests
of the prisoners were refused.^ Their courage did not
fail them in these trying circumstances ; most of them
refused to confess themselves guilty of any misdeed,
' The members of the House of Commons who were arrested and
prosecuted were Denzil Holhs, Sir Miles Hobart, Sir John Ehot, Sir
Peter Hayman, John Selden, WiUiam Coriton, Walter Long, WilUam
Stroud, and Benjamin Valentine. — i^tate Trials, vol. iii. col. 236.
'■^ Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 515, 516.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 179
or to pay the fines to which they were condemned.
Tliey preferred to remain in prison. Sir John Eliot
was destined to die there.
Wliile these proceedings lasted, the public anger
continued to increase, and did not fear to manifest
itself. It was a sort of prolongation of the Parliament,
vanquished and dispersed, but still struggling, before
the judges of the land, in the persons of its leaders.
The firmness of the accused maintained the ardour of
the people, who watched them as tliey passed and
repassed from the Tower to Westminster, and accom-
panied them with acclamations and good wishes. The
visible anxiety of the judges seemed to justify some
expectations of victory. " All is lost !" it was said ;
and yet men continued to hope and fear, as in the
midst of the conflict.
But these great trials came to an end. Under the
influence of alarm or persuasion, some of the accused
paid their flnes, were condemned to live at a distance
of at least ten miles from the royal residence, and
retired into their counties to conceal their weakness.
The noble steadfastness of the others was buried in
the depths of dungeons. The people, who neither saw
or heard anything further of them, became silent
and passive in their turn. The royal power, meeting
vdth no more opponents, believed itself master of the
country from which it had just consummated its
separation. Charles hastened to make peace with
France (on the 14th of April, 1629), and with Spain
(on the 5th of November, 1680) ; and found himself
N 2
180 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
at leno-tli without rivals at home and without foes
abroad.
For some time, government was easy. The citizens
devoted themselves entirely to the advancement of
their private interests ; no great question, no violent
emotion, any longer agitated the gentry in their comity
meetings, the burgesses in their municipal assemblies,
the sailors in the seaports, or the apprentices in their
workshops. Not that the nation was languishing in
apathy ; its activity had merely taken another course ;
and it might be said that it was trying to forget, in
the occupations of industry, the reverses which the
cause of hberty had just sustained. More haughty
than ardent, the despotism of Charles interfered but
little with it in its new condition ; that prince medi-
tated no vast designs, and felt no imperious desu'e to
achieve great and perilous glory ; it was enough for
him to enjoy his power and rank with befitting
majesty. Peace rendered it unnecessary for him to
exact heavy sacrifices from the people, and the people
devoted themselves to the pursuits of agriculture,
commerce, and study, without being daily impeded in
their efforts, and endangered in their interests, by the
interference of an ambitious and restless tyranny.
Public prosperity, therefore, became rapidly developed ;
order reigned throughout the nation ; and this florndsh-
iiig and regular state of things gave to power the
appearance of wisdom, and to the country the appear-
ance of content.^
' Clarendon's Ilistoiy of the Rebellion, vol. i. pp. 1.31 — 1-35.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 181
It was in the vicinity of the throne, and among its
immediate servants, that the new troubles of the
government originated. As soon as the struggle
between the King and people appeared to have termi-
nated, two parties began to contend for the mastery
of the rising despotism ; the Queen and the ministers
the Court and the council.
As soon as she arrived in England, the Queen had
made no attempt to conceal the ennui with which she
was inspired by her new country. Its rehgion, insti-
tutions, customs, and language, all displeased her ; she
had even, shortly after their union, treated her husband
with peevish insolence ; and Charles, driven to extremi-
ties by the passionate outbursts of her ill-temper,
found himself one day compelled to send back to the
Continent some of the servants whom she had brought
over with her.' The pleasure of reigning could alone
console her for not living in France ; and she reckoned
upon enjoying this pleasure to the full, as soon as she
ceased to fear the opposition of Parliament. Of an
agreeable and lively disposition, she soon acquired
over a young King of such exceeding purity of manners
as Charles, an ascendancy to which he submitted with
a sort of gratitude, as if he were affected by her con-
senting to acquiesce in her lot as his wife. But the
happiness of domestic life, so dear to the serious cha-
racter of Charles, could not satisfy the frivolous, rest-
less, and ungentle disposition of Henrietta Maria ; she
required an acknowledged empire, an arrogant sway, the
' In July, 16L'(). See the Appendix to Ludlow's Memoirs.
182 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
honour of being informed of everything, of regulating
everything — such power, in fine, as a capricious woman
longs to exercise. Around her rallied, on one side,
the Papists, and on the other, all the frivolous and
ambitious intriguers, and the young courtiers who had
gone to Paris to learn the secret of pleasing her. All
these professed to expect from her alone, the latter
their fortune, and the former the triumph, or at least,
the dehverance of their faith. It was in her apart-
ments that the English Catholics and the emissaries
of Rome met to discuss their most secret projects ; and
there her favourites paraded the ideas, manners, and
fashions of the Continental courts.^ Everything about
her was foreign, and offensive to the faith and habits
of the country ; every day her adherents revealed
designs and pretensions, which could not be satisfied
without recom'se to illegal measures or abusive favours.
The Queen took a share in these intrigues, promised
that they should succeed, exacted compliance from the
King, and even required that, to honour her, as she
said, in the eyes of the people, he should consult her
on every occasion, and do nothing without her con-
currence. If the King refused to grant her requests,
she angrily accused him of knowing neither how to
love her, nor how to reign ; and then Charles, delighted
to find her so anxious to maintain his power, or
solicitous to be assured of his love, sought only to
dissipate her grief or appease her anger.
Even the most servile counsellors would have found
' May's Histoiy of the Long Parliament, p. 14.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 183
it difficult to submit unresistingly to this capricious
empire. Charles had two who were deficient neither
in intelligence nor in independence, and who, though
devoted to the preservation of his power, were never-
theless desirous of serving him in a different way to
that dictated by the whims of a woman and the pre-
tensions of a Court.
In deserting his party to attach himself to the
King, Strafford^ had not been called upon to sacrifice
any very settled principles, or basely to betray his con-
science. Ambitious and passionate, he had been a
patriot out of hatred to Buckingham, from a desire
for glory, and in order to give splendid proof of his
talents and powers, rather than from any deep and
virtuous conviction of duty. To act, to rise, to rule,
was his aim, or rather the necessity of his nature.
When he entered the service of the Crown, he took its
power to heart, as he had previously done the liberties
of his country, seriously and proudly — as an able and
unyielding minister, not as a trifling and obsequious
courtier. Of a mind too vast to confine itself within
the narrow cu'cle of domestic intrigues, and of a pride
too headstrong to bend to the etiquette of a palace,
he devoted himself to public business with ardent
zeal, braving all rivalry as he crushed all resistance,
eager to extend and consolidate the royal authority,
now that it had become his own, but diligent at the
same time to restore order, to repress abuses, to set
• At this period liis title was Lord Wentwortli, for he was not created
Earl of Strafford until the 12th of January, 1640.
184 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
aside those private interests which he judged ille-
gitimate, and to serve those general interests of which
he felt no dread. Impetuous despot though he was,
all love of his country, all care for its prosperity and
glory, were not extinct in his heart ; and he understood
on what conditions, and by what means, absolute power
must be bought. To establish an administration
wliich, though arbitrary, should be powerful, consistent,
and laborious, disdaining the rights of the people but
attentive to promote the public welfare, exempt from
all petty abuses and aU useless irregularity, subordi-
nating to its will and inspiring with its views the
great as well as the small, the Court as well as the
nation — this was his aim, the principle which guided
his conduct, and the character which he strove to im-
press upon the government of the King.
Archbishop Laud,' the friend of Strafford, with fewer
worldly passions and more disinterested ardour, brought
into the council the same aspirations and the same
designs. Austere in his manners, and simple in his
life, power, whether lie acted as its servant or exercised
it himself, inspired him with the most fanatical devo-
tion. To prescribe and to punish were in his eyes to
establish order; and order always seemed to him identical
with justice. His activity was unwearied, but narrow
in its range, violent, and harsh. Equally incapable of
conciliating interests and respecting rights, he indis-
criminately attacked both liberties and abuses, oppos-
ing to the latter his stern probity, and to the former a
))liiid animosity; he was abrupt aud irritable with
' He was made Arelibisliop of Cautcrlmry in August, lfj;}3.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 185
courtiers as well as citizens, seeking no friendship, an-
ticipating and admitting no resistance — persuaded, in
short, that power in pure hands was sufficient for
every necessity, and constantly a prey to some fixed
idea which swayed him with all the vehemence of
passion and all the authority of duty.
Such councillors were well suited to the new posi-
tion of Charles. Standing aloof from the Court, they
were less anxious to please it than to serve their
master ; and they had neither the pompous insolence,
nor the indolent pretensions of favourites. They were
persevering and bold, capable both of labour and
devotion. No sooner had the government of Ireland
been confided to Strafford than that kingdom, which
until then had only been an embarrassment and a
burden to the Crown, became a source of wealth and
strength. Its pubhc debts were paid ; the revenue,
which had formerly been irregularly levied and shame-
lessly dilapidated, was now administered in an orderly
manner, and soon rose above the expenditure ; the
nobles ceased to oppress the people with impunity,
and aristocratic or religious factions were no longer
allowed to tear each other to pieces in full liberty. The
army, which Strafford had found weak, badly clothed,
and worse disciplined, was recruited, thoroughly drilled,
and properly paid ; so that it ceased to pillage the in-
habitants. Favom-ed by order, commerce prospered,
manufactures were established, and agriculture made
great progress. In a word, Ireland was governed
arbitrarily and harshly, often even with odious vio-
lence, but in a manner conducive to the advancement
186 HISTOEY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
of general civilization and of the royal j^ower — instead
of being as formerly a prey to tlie rapacity of revenue
officers, and subject to the domination of a selfish and
ignorant aristocracy.^
Possessing in England, with regard to civil afiairs,
an authority less extensive and less concentrated than
that of Strafford in Ireland, and endowed moreover
with less ability than his friend, Laud did not fail to
pursue an analogous course of conduct. As commis-
sioner of the treasury, he not only repressed all dilapi-
dations, but he applied himself to gain a thorough
knowledge of the different branches of the public
revenue, and to devise means by which its collection
might be rendered less burdensome to the people.
Vexatious hindrances and serious abuses had been in-
troduced into the administration of the customs, to
the profit of private interests ; Laud listened to the
representations of the merchants, employed liis leisure
time in conversation with them, made himself ac-
quainted with the general interests of commerce, and
freed it from such trammels as were of no advantage
to the treasury.^ In March, 1636, the office of Lord
High Treasurer was given at his suggestion to Juxon,^
Bishop of London, a laborious and moderate man, who
put a stop to a host of disorders from which the crown
had suffered as much as the citizens. To serve, as he
thought, tlie King and the Church, Laud did not
' See Appendix III. for a letter written by Strafford himself, in which
the character of his administration is explained.
''■ Clarendon's Life, vol. i. pp. 22 — 30.
^ Born at Chichester, in Sussex, in the year 1582 ; died Archbishop
of Canterbury, on the 4th of June, 1663.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 187
scruple to oppress the people and to give the most
iniquitous advice ; but when neither King nor Church
were in question, he desired to do good, sought after
truth, and upheld the right, without any fear for him-
self or any regard for other interests.
A government of this kind, honest and diligent, but
arbitrary and tyrannical if necessary, and void of all
idea of responsibility, was not enough to satisfy the
country ; but, on the other hand, it was a great deal
too much to please the Court. With a Court, favourites
have a chance of success ; though they may meet with
enemies they also gain partisans, and, in the conflict of
personal interests, a clever intriguer may successfully
use those whom he serves as a foil to those whom he
ofiends. Such had been Buckingham. But whoever
desires to govern either despotically or legally, for the
general advantage of either prince or people, must ex-
pect to incur the hatred of aU mere com'tiers. They
directed against Strafibrd and Laud an opposition as
violent and more annoying than that ofiered by the
nation. On Strafford's first appearance at Wliitehall,^
a mocking smile had greeted the sudden elevation and
somewhat unpolished demeanour of the country gentle-
man, who was best known as a leader of the opposition
in Parliament. The austere manners, theological pe-
dantry, and inattentive abruptness of Laud were no less
disliked. Both these men were haughty, wanting in
deference, and not to be tampered with ; they despised
intrigues, counselled economy, and talked of many afiliirs
' Howell's Letters, No. 34 ; Strafford's Letters, vol. i. p. 7'J ; Biogra-
phia Britannica, art. " Wentworth."
188 HISTORY 0¥ CHARLES THE FIRST
and necessities of which a Court does not care to hear.
The Queen held them in aversion, for they limited her
influence over the King ; the high aristocracy hated
them hecause of tlieir power ; and ere long the entire
Court combined with the people to attack them, and
joined in every complaint against their tyranny.
Charles did not desert them ; he had full confidence
in their devotedness and ability ; their ideas were
quite in accordance with his own, and he entertained
for the fervent piety of Laud a mingled feeling of
affection and respect. But, while retaining them in
his service, in spite of the Court, Charles was utterly
unable to subject the Court to theu' government.
Though grave in his sentiments and outward life, his
character was really too frivolous and shallow to com-
prehend the difficulties of absolute power, and tlie
necessity of sacrificing everything to it. Such were,
in his eyes, the prerogatives of royalty, that it seemed
to him that nothing ought to cost him an effort. In
the council, he applied himself to public business with
regularity and attention, but when this duty was dis-
charged, affairs of State did not occupy his mind to
any great extent ; and the necessity of governing had
less sway over him than the pleasure of reigning. The
good or bad temper of the Queen, the habits of the
Court, and the privileges of the officers of the palace,
appeared to him important considerations which the
political interests of his crown could not require liim
to forget. He thus occasioned his ministers a con-
tinual succession of petty embarrassments, from wliicli
lie made no attempt to extricate them, thinking that
AND THE ENGTJSH REVOLUTION. 189
he had discharged his duty towards them, and towards
himself, by maintaining them in office. They were
intrusted with the exercise of absolute power, and yet
they became powerless, whenever they required any
domestic sacrifice, or any measure contrary to the
forms and usages of Whitehall. During the whole
time of his government in Ireland, Strafford was
obliged to be continually offering explanations and
apologies ; now, he had spoken lightly of the Queen,
and now, some influential family complained of his
haughty bearing. He was incessantly called upon to
justify his language, his manners, or liis character ; to
send answers from Dublin to the opinions expressed
and the reports spread about him at Whitehall, and
he did not always obtain a credence which, by freeing
him from anxiety with regard to these hidden dangers,
would have enabled him fearlessly to display the
authority which was still left him.^
Thus, notwithstanding the energy and zeal of his
principal advisers, notwithstanding the tranquil state
of the country, and notwithstanding the dignity of
the King's bearing and the proud confidence of his
language, his government was neither powerful nor
respected. Eent by internal dissensions, swayed alter-
nately by contrary influences, sometimes arrogantly
shaking off the yoke of the laws, and sometimes yield-
ing to the most trifling obstacles, its conduct was
governed by no fixed plan, and it forgot, at every mo-
ment, its own designs. It had abandoned the cause
' Strafford's Letters and Desjiatches, vol i. pp. 128, 1.38, 142, 144;
vol. ii. pp. 42, 105, 126.
190 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
of Protestantism on the continent of Europe, and had
even forbidden Lord Scudamore, the English ambas-
sador at Paris, to attend divine service in the chapel
of the Reformers, as it was not considered to be in
sufficient conformity with the rites of the Anglican
Church.' And yet, in 1631, leave was given to the
Marquis of Hamilton to raise a body of six thousand
men in Scotland, and to go and fight at their head
beneath the banners of Grustavus Adolphus ; for it was
not foreseen that they would there imbibe the opinions
and creed of those very Pm'itans whom the Church of
England so utterly proscribed. The faith of Charles
in the reformed religion, as established by Henry YIII.
and Elizabeth, was sincere ; and yet, either out of ten-
derness to his wife, or from a spirit of moderation and
justice, or from an instinctive consciousness of the
adaptation of Eomanism to absolute power, he fre-
quently granted the Catholics not only a liberty which
was then illegal, but an almost openly avowed favour.^
Archbishop Laud, who was quite as sincere as his
master, wrote against the Court of Eome, and even
preached violent sermons against the rites practised in
the Queen's chapel ; and at the same time he showed
himself so favourable to the system of the E-omish
Church, that the Pope thought himself justified in
ofiering him a Cardinal's hat in August, 1633.^ Li
the conduct of civil afiairs, the same uncertainty and
inconsistency prevailed. No definite plan was to be
' Neal's History of the Pui'itans, vol. ii. p. 234.
'"^ Clarendon's History of the EebelHon, vol. i, p. lOl.
^ Laud's Diary, p. 49 ; Whitelocke, p. 18.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 191
discerned — no powerfnl liand made itself felt. Des-
potism was pompously paraded, and, when occasion
required, rigorously exercised ; but its decisive establish-
ment would have necessitated too many efforts, too
much perseverance : this was not even contemplated,
so that its pretensions daily grew greater than its
means. The treasury was administered with order
and probity ; the King was not extravagant ; but
pecuniary difficulties continued, just as if the King
had been guilty of the most lavish prodigality, and the
treasury subject to the most extensive peculation ;
just as Charles had haughtily refused to yield to Par-
liament, in order to obtain from it revenues sufficient
to meet his expenses, so he would have thought it a
degradation to reduce his expenses to a level with his
income.* To maintain the splendour of the throne,
to continue the Court festivities, and to keep up the
ancient usages of the Crown, were in his eyes condi-
tions, rights, and almost duties of royalty ; and though
he was sometimes ignorant of the abuses resorted to
for the supply of these wants, yet, when he was aware
of them, he had not the courage to reform them.
Thus, though relieved by peace from all extraordinary
burdens, he found it impossible to meet the wants of
his government. The commerce of England was in a
' The j)ensions -which, during the reign of Ehzabeth, amounted to
18,000Z., rose, under James I., to 80,000^. ; and in 1626, a little more
than a year after the accession of Charles I., they already amounted to
120,000L The expenses of the king's household had, in the same in-
terval, increased from 45,000^. to 80,000?. ; those of the wardrobe had
doubled, and those of the privy purse tripled. — Jivshnorfh's Hisforiad
Collections, vol, i. p. 207.
192 HISTORY OF OHABLKS THE FIRST
prosperous condition, and lier merchant Heet, wliich
daily grew more numerous and active, urgently soli-
cited the protection of the royal navy. Charles con-
fidently promised it, and even made, from time to
time, serious efforts to keep his word ;' but, generally
speaking, the merchantmen sailed without convoy,
because the King's vessels had no rigging, and the
sailors' wages were in arrear. The Barbary pirates
entered the British Channel as far even as the Straits
of Dover ; they infested the coasts of Great Britain,
disembarked, sacked the villages, and carried off thou-
sands of captives. Captain Eainsborough, who was
despatched to Morocco, in 1637, to destroy one of
their haunts, found there three hundred and seventy
slaves, English or Irish ; and such was the impotence
or imprudence of the administration, that Strafford
was obliged to fit out a ship, at his o\^^l expense, to
preserve the port of Dublin itself from their ravages.^
Such glaring incapacity, and the dangers which it
entailed, did not escape the observation of experienced
men. The foreign ministers resident in London
reported it to their masters ; and ere long, notwith-
standing the well-known prosperity of England, it
became the general opinion in Europe that the go-
vernment of Charles was feeble, imprudent, and inse-
cure. At Paris, at Madrid, and at the Hague, his
ambassadors were more than once treated slightingly
' Warwick'.s Memoirs, p. 157 ; Rushworth, vol. i. part ii. pp. 257,
322.
^ Strafford's Letters, vol. i. pp. 68, 87, 90; vol. ii. pp. 80, 115,118 ;
Waller's Poems.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 193
and contemptuously.' Strafford, Laud, and a few
otlier members of the council, were not ignorant of
the evil, and sought to remedy it. Strafford espe-
cially, the boldest and ablest of them all, struggled
vigorously against every obstacle : he was alarmed
for the future, and was anxious that the King, by
regulating liis affairs with consistency and prudence,
should assure himself of a fixed revenue, well-provided
arsenals, strong fortresses, and an efficient army.^ For
his own part, he had not feared to convoke the Par-
liament of Ireland, in 1634; and either from the
terror which he inspired, or the services which he
had rendered the country, he had made it the most
tractable as w^ell as the most useful instrument of his
power. But Charles forbade him to call it together
again; both the Queen and himself dreaded the mere
name of Parliament, and the fears of his master alone
prevented Strafford from obtaining for tyranny the
appearance and support of law. He argued the point
for a time, but without success ; and at length he
yielded. Energetic himself, he had to yield to weak-
ness ; and his foresight was rendered unavaiHng by
being placed in the service of the bhnd. Some mem-
• The writings of the time — among others, the letters collected by
Howell — supply numberless examples of this. I will quote one only : —
When Sir Thomas Edmonds went to France, in 1629, to conclude the
treaty of peace, the gentleman who was sent to meet him at St. Denis,
to conduct him to Paris, said to him jeeringly, "that his Excellency
must not think it strange that he had so few French gentlemen to
accompany him to the court, as there had been so many killed at the
Isle of Rh6," a bitterly-ironical allusion to the utter defeat of the
English expedition to that island under the command of the Duke of
Buckingham. — Ilmvell's Letters^, p. 225.
^ Straftbrd's Letters, vol. ii. pp. 01, 62, 66.
VOL. 1. O
194 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
bers of the council even, who thought as he did, but
who were either more selfish, or perceived more clearly
the uselessness of their efforts, retired as soon as it
became necessary to run risk in supporting him, and
left him alone with Laud, exposed to all the intrigues
and animosities of the court.
When tyranny is thus frivolous and unskilful, it
daily needs additional tyranny to maintain it. The
despotism of Charles was, if not the most cruel, at least
the most iniquitous and abusive that England had ever
suffered. Without being able to allege in excuse any
public necessity, without dazzling the minds of the
people by any great results, in order merely to satisfy
base cravings, and to accomplish unmeaning desires,
it disregarded and offended the ancient rights as well
as the new aspirations of the country — caring neither
for the laws nor the opinions of the land, nor even for
the concessions and promises of the King liimself ;
making trial, at haphazard, and as occasion required,
of all kinds of oppression — and in a word, adopting the
most foolhardy resolutions and the most illegal mea-
sures, not to secure the triumph of a consistent and
formidable system, but to sustain, by temporary expe-
dients, a power which was always in embarrassment.
Shrewd lawyers, incessantly searching old registers in
order to discover some instance of a forgotten iniquity,
laboriously disinterred the abuses of past times, and
erected them into rights of the throne. Immediately,
other agents, less learned but more bold, converted
these pretended rights into new and real vexations ;
and if any opposition were made, servile judges were
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 195
always ready to declare that, in fact, the Crown had
formerly possessed such prerogatives. Was the com-
plaisance of the judges ever thought uncertain, or was
it thought necessary to show a little regard for their
reputation? — irregular tribunals, such as the Star
Chamber, the Com-t at York,^ and a number of other
jurisdictions independent of the common law, were ap-
pointed to take their place; and the complicity of
illegal magistrates was used in support of tyranny,
whenever the servility of legal magistrates was found
insufficient. Thus were re-established many taxes
which had fallen into desuetude, and others were in-
vented which had previously been unknown ; thus re-
appeared those innumerable monopolies which had been
introduced and abandoned by Elizabeth, revived and
abandoned by James I., constantly rejected by Parlia-
ment, and temporarily abolished by Charles himself,
and which, by granting to contractors or privileged
courtiers the exclusive sale of most articles of consump-
tion,^ caused the people to suffer, and irritated them
still more by the unjust and irregular distribution of
' Instituted by Henry VIIL, in 1537, in consequence of the troubles
excited, in the northern counties, by the suppression of the lesser
monasteries, for the purpose of admiiaistering justice and maintaining
order in those counties, independently of the Courts at Westminster.
The jurisdiction of the Northern Court, though at first rather limited,
became much more extended and arbitrary during the reigns of James I.
and Charles I.
^ Here is a list, though incomj)lete, of the commodities then subject
to monopoly : salt, soaj), coal, iron, wine, leather, starch, feathers, cards
and dice, felt, lace, tobacco, barrels, beer, distilled liquors, the weighing
of hay and straw in London and Westminster, red herrings, butter,
potash, linens, paper rags, hops, buttons, catgut, spectacles, combs,
saltpetre, gunpowder, &c.
o 2
190 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
their profits. The extension of the royal forests, that
abuse against which the barons of old England had so
often risen in arms, was carried on to such a degree
that the forest of Rockingham alone increased from
six to sixty miles in circuit ; and at the same time the
slightest encroachment of private individuals were
narrowly watclied, and punished by enormous fines.*
Commissions were sent through the provinces to call
in question, here the titles of the possessors of domains
which had formerly belonged to the Crown, there the
rate of the emoluments attached to certain offices, and
elsewhere the right of citizens to build new houses, or
that of agriculturists to change their corn-fields into
meadow-land ; and their endeavour was not to reform
abuses, but to sell their impunity at the highest
possible price.^ Privileges and abuses of all kinds
were a continual subject of disgraceful bargains between
the King and those to whom he granted them. The
severity of the judges was even trafficked in : on the
slightest pretext, they infficted fines of unprecedented
magnitude, which struck terror into those who were
liable to be threatened with such prosecutions, and
determined them to ransom themselves beforehand by
the payment of large sums. It might have been said
that the judicial tribunals had no other business than
to supply the wants of the prince, or to ruin the adver-
' For an offence of this kind, Lord Salisbury was fined 20,000/. ; Lord
Westmoreland 19,000/. ; Sir Christopher Hatton 12,0007. ; Lord New-
port 3000/.; and Sir Lewis Watson 40o0/. See Strafford's Letters,
vol. ii., p. 117, and Parliamentary History, vol. ii., col. 642.
* May's History of the Long Parhament, p. 17 ; Rushworth, vol. ii.
part 2, p. 91d.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 197
saries of liis power/ If discontent seemed to prevail
in any particular county, so generally as to render it
difficult to practise such proceedings, the militia was
disarmed, and troops were sent thither, whom the in-
habitants were bound, not only to lodge and feed, but
also to equip. For not having paid what they did not
owe, men were put into prison, and could obtain their
liberty only by paying a portion of the amount, which
varied according to the fortune, the credit, or the
adroitness of the prisoners. Taxes, imprisonments,
convictions, severities, and favours, all were arbitrary ;
and this arbitrary rule extended every day, over the
rich because it brought profit, and over the poor because
it involved no danger. Indeed, when complaints be-
came so violent as to alarm the courts the magistrates
against whom they were raised, purchased impunity in
their tm-n. In a fit of insensate despotism, for a few
inconsiderate words, Strafibrd had caused Lord Mount-
norris to be condemned to death ; and althougli the
sentence had not been carried mto execution, the mere
report of the trial had excited a general feeling of re-
probation against him botli in England and Ireland,
and even in the royal council. To appease this feeling,
he sent 6000Z. to London, to be distributed among the
principal councillors. " I fell upon the right way,"
wrote Lord Cottington, an old and practised courtier
to whom he had intrusted this matter, " which was,
to give the money to him that really could do the
1 By adding together the fines inflicted for the King's profit during
this period, in the principal Crown prosecutions, we find a sum-total of
more than 200,000/. See Appendix IV.
198 HISTORY OV CHARLES THE FIRST
business, which was the King himself;"^ and Strafford
obtained, at this price, not only exemption from all
pursuit, but permission to divide, as he pleased, among
his favourites, the spoils of the man whom, at his
pleasure, he had caused to be condemned.
Such was the effect of Charles's necessities : his fears
carried him to far greater excesses. In spite of his
presumptuous levity, he sometimes felt himself weak,
and sought for support. He made some attempt to
restore to the high aristocracy the strength which they
had ceased to possess. Under the pretext of prevent-
ing dissipation, the country gentlemen received orders
to live on their estates ; for their affluence to London
was greatly feared.^ The Star Chamber took under its
protection the dignity of the nobles. A want of re-
S23ect, an inadvertency, a joke, the most trifling acts in
which the superiority of their rank and privileges
seemed to be lost sight of, were punished with extreme
rigour, and always by enormous fines, which were as
profitable to the King as to the offended party. ^ The
object was to make the courtiers a powerful and re-
spected class ; but these attempts were soon given up,
either because their futihty was perceived, or because
recollections of the ancient barons still inspired the
' Strafford's Letters, vol. i., p. 511.
* More than two hundred gentlemen were proceeded against on the
same day, the 20th of March, 1035, and by the same indictment, for
having disobeyed this injunction. — Ivushworth, vol. i., part ii., p. 288.
•' A man named Greville was fined 4000Z. to the king, and as much in
damages to Lord Suffolk, for having called him " a base lord ;" and one
Pettager was fined 20001., and sentenced to be flogged, for having said
the same of the Earl of Kingston. — llushworth, vol. ii., part 2, pp. 43, 72,
of Ap})cndix ; Clarendon's Life, vol. i., p. 81.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 199
King with some distrust of their descendants. Several
of them, in fact, ranged themselves among the malcon-
tents, and these alone had any influence in the country.
The simple gentry were still humihated, whenever
opportunity offered, before the great lords ; but it had
become necessary to seek elsewhere a body wliich,
though already strong in itself, had nevertheless much
to receive from the Crown, and might, by being
admitted to a share of absolute power, contribute
efficiently to its support. The Anglican clergy had
long soKcited this mission ; they were now called to
fulfil it.
Originating, as it did, in the sole will of the tem-
poral sovereign, the Anglican Church had thereby, as
we have seen, lost all independence : it no longer had a
divine mission, and had ceased to exist of its own right.
Isolated from the people, who did not elect them, and
separated from the Pope and the universal Church,
which had formerly been their support, the bishops
and superior clergy were merely the delegates of the
prince, the first of his servants ; a false position for a
body whose functions it is to represent that which is
most independent and elevated in man — religious faith.
At an early period, the Anglican Church had become
sensible of tliis defect in its nature ; but the dangers to
wliich it had been exposed, and its dread of the strong
hands of Henry VIII. and EKzabeth, had prevented
it from making any efforts to hberate itself from
tlu-aldom. Attacked simultaneously by both CathoHcs
and Nonconformists, and firmly established neither in
its professions nor in its doctrines, it devoted itself
200 HISTOllY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
unreservedly to the service of the temporal power,
iickuowledging its own dependence, and admitting the
absolute supremacy of the throne, which, at that time,
could alone save it from its enemies.
Towards the end of the reign of EHzabeth, some
few weak and isolated symptoms began to betoken
rather loftier pretensions on the part of the Anglican
clergy. Dr. Bancroft, chaplain to the Archbishop of
Canterbury, in a sermon preached on the 12th of
January, 1588, maintained that episcopacy was not of
human institution, that it had been the government of
the Chui'ch ever since the apostolic times, and that the
bishops held their power not of the temporal sovereign,
but of God alone. ^ The new clergy were beginning to
think themselves more firmly established, and were
attempting a first step towards their emancipation :
but the attempt, timidly ventured, was haughtily
repulsed. Ehzabeth asserted the plenitude of her
spiritual supremacy, repeating to the bishops that
they were nothing but by her will; and the Arch-
bishop of Canterbury contented himself with saying,
that he wished, rather than believed, that the doctor
was right. ^ The people sided heartily with the Queen ;
their only desire was to carry the Reformation still
further, and they well knew that, if the bishops aspired
to independence, it was not in order to free faith from
temporal authority, but to oppress it by their own
power.
No decision was arrived at under James I : that
' Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. i., p. 390.
* Ibid., p. 397.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 201
selfish and wily monarch cared little to aggravate the
evil, provided that he could escape from present danger.
He maintained his own supremacy, but granted so
much favour to the bishops, took such care to
strengthen their authority, and treated their enemies
so roughly, that tlieir confidence and power increased
every day. While zealously proclaiming the divine
right of the throne, they soon began to speak fre-
quently of their own ; and the doctrine which
Bancroft had timidly insinuated became an opinion
openly professed by all the superior clergy, maintained
in numerous treatises, and preached from the pulpit of
almost every church. Bancroft himself was created
Archbishop of Canterbury in December, 1604.
Whenever the King made a parade of his prerogative,
the clergy bowed with respect ; but after these acts of
momentary humility, they resumed their pretensions,
exhibiting them chiefly in their deahngs with the
people so as to gain excuse more readily from the King,
devoting themselves with increasing fervour to the
cause of absolute monarchy, and patiently awaiting
the day when they would be so necessary to it, that it
would be compelled to recognize their independence
in order to secure their support.
When Charles, after having quarrelled with the
Parliament, stood alone in the midst of his kingdom,
seeking in every direction for the means of governing,
the Anglican clergy believed that this day was come.
They had recovered immense wealth, and held it in
undisputed possession. The Papists no longer in-
spired them with any alarm. The primate of the
202 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
church, Laud, possessed the entire confidence of the
King, and had the undivided direction of ecclesiastical
afiairs. Among the other ministers, none professed,
as Lord Burleigh had done under Elizabeth, to dread
and oppose the encroachments of the clergy. The
court was either indifferent or secretly papistical.
Learned men shed a lustre over the Church. The
universities, especially that of Oxford, were devoted to
her maxims. One adversary only remained — the
people, who daily grew more discontented that the
Reformation had been left incomplete, and more ardent
to consummate it. But this adversary was also the
opponent of the throne; it demanded at the same
time, and in order to secure one by the other, both
evangelical faith and political hberty. The same peril
menaced the sovereignty of the crown and the suj^re-
macy of the bishops. The King, who was sincerely
pious, manifested a disposition to beheve that he was
not the only potentate who held his power from God,
and that the authority of the bishops had neither a
less lofty origin nor a less sacred character. Never
had so many favourable circumstances seemed to com-
bme to place the clergy in a position to achieve
independence of the crown and dominion over the
people.
Laud set to work with his accustomed violence. It
was first of all necessary to put an end, withui the
Church, to all dissent ; and to impart to its doctrine,
disciphne, and worship, the force of the strictest uni-
formity. He suffered no obstacle to interfere with the
accomplishment of this design. Power was concen-
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 203
trated exclusively in tlie hands of the bishops. The
Court of High Commission, in which they took cogni-
zance of and decided ujDon all matters relating to
religion, daily became more harsh and arbitrary in its
jurisdiction, its formalities, and the penalties which it
inflicted. The complete adoption of the Anglican
canons, and the mmute observance of the hturgy or
rites employed in the cathedrals, were rigorously en-
forced upon all ecclesiastics. The Nonconformists held
numerous livings : they were summarily ejected from
them. The people thronged to hear their sermons :
they were forbidden to preach.^ Driven from their
churches, deprived of their incomes, they travelled
from town to town teaching and preaching to the
faithful, who collected around them, in taverns, private
houses, or open fields; but persecution followed and
reached them wherever they went. Many wealthy
families among the country nobles or prosperous
citizens, who held the same opinions as they did,
received them into their houses as chaplains, or as
tutors for their children ; but persecution penetrated
even into the privacy of these families, and drove forth
the chaplains or tutors whom they had chosen.^ The
proscribed ministers left England, and went into
France, Holland, and Grermany, to found churches in
conformity with their faith ; but despotism crossed
the seas, and requu^ed these churches to adopt the
Anglican ritual.^ Many French, Dutch, and German
manufacturers had introduced their various branches
' Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii., p. 179.
' Ibid., p. 179. ^ Ibid., p. 205.
204 HISTORY OV CHARLES THE FIRST
of industry into England, and had obtained charters
which secured to them the free exercise of their
national worship : these charters were revoked, and
most of the foreigners abandoned their adopted country
in consequence ; the diocese of Norwich alone lost
tliree thousand of these industrious immigrants.^ Thus
deprived of every asylum, and stripped of every em-
ployment, seeking refuge in flight or concealment, the
Nonconformists still wrote to defend or propagate their
doctrines : the censorship prohibited the publication of
their new books, and sought after and suppressed the
old ones.^ It was even absolutely forbidden to treat,
either in the pulpit or elsewhere, of those questions
regarding which the public mind was in the strongest
agitation f for the controversy was general and deep-
seated, about dogmas as well as about discipHne, on
the mysteries of human destiny as well as on the pro-
prieties of public worship ; and the Anglican Church
would neither tolerate departure from its ceremonies,
nor admit discussion of its opinions. The people
grieved that they could no longer listen to the pastors
whom they loved, nor hear of those things which en-
grossed their thoughts. To quiet their alarms, and to
save themselves from being separated from their flocks,
many moderate or timid Nonconformist ministers
ofiered to submit in part, and demanded in return
various concessions, such as not being obliged to wear
» Rushworth, part ii., vol. i., p. 272 ; May's History of the Long Par-
liament, p. 81 ; Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii., p, 232.
* Decree of the Star Chamber, 11th July, 1637 ; Ivushworth, part ii.,
vol. ii., p. 306 ; Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii., p. 165.
3 Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii., p. 163.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 205
a surplice, or to give to the communion-table the form
or position of an altar. They were told in reply, some-
times that the practices appointed were important, and
it was therefore their duty to obey; and sometimes
that they were insignificant, and it therefore became
them to yield. Driven to extremities, they resisted
absolutely, and insult awaited them, as well as con-
demnation, before the Ecclesiastical Court. The treat-
ment which they received from the bishops and judges
was most disgraceful ; they were insultingly addressed
in the second person singular, called fools, idiots, rogues
and knaves, and ordered to be silent, whenever they
opened their mouths to defend or excuse themselves.^
Even if they renounced preaching, writing, and ap-
pearing in public, tyranny did not give up persecuting
them ; it proceeded against them with an obstinacy
and ingenuity which no foresight could have antici-
pated, and no weakness could avert. Mr. Workman,
a minister at Gloucester, had asserted that ornaments
and pictures in churches were a remnant of idolatry ;
he was imprisoned for the assertion. A short time
before, the city of Gloucester had granted him an
annuity of twenty pounds for life ; the annuity was
stopped, and the mayor and other principal officers
were prosecuted and condemned to pay a heavy fine for
having granted it. On leaving his prison, Workman
opened a httle school ; Laud ordered it to be closed.
That he might have means of subsistence, the poor
minister became a physician; Laud forbade him to
» Rushworth, part ii., vol. i., pp. 233, 240 ; Neal's History of the
Puritans, vol. i., p. 256.
206 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
practise. Workman went mad, and shortly afterwards
died/
Meanwhile the pomps of Catholic worship were
stored with all haste in the churches which had thus
been deprived of their pastors : whilst persecution scat-
tered the flock, the walls of the building were magni-
ficently adorned. They were consecrated with much
display -^ but in order to fill them with a congregation,
it was found necessary to employ force. Laud took
pleasure in minutely regulating the details of new
ceremonies, sometimes borrowed from Popery, and
sometimes invented by his ostentatious though austere
imagination. On the part of the Nonconformists, every
innovation, even the slightest derogation from the
canons or liturgy, was punished as a crime ; and yet
Laud was continually innovating mthout consulting
anybody, supported only by the King's sanction, and
sometimes even acting upon his own sole authority.^
He altered the internal arrangement of churches and
the forms of worship ; imperiously prescribed practices
which had previously been unknown ; nay, even made
changes in that liturgy which Parhaments had sanc-
tioned ; and the object, or at least the result, of all
these alterations was to render the Church of England
more Hke the Church of Pome. The Hberty which
the Papists enjoyed, and the hopes which, either
from imprudence or policy, they openly manifested,
confirmed the people in their most sinister apprehen-
sions. Books were published to prove that the doc-
' Neal'a History of the rmitiuis, vol. ii., p. 204.
•^ Ibid., p. 190. ■■' Ibid., p. 220.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 207
trine of tlie English bishops might very easily be
reconciled to that of the Church of Rome ; and these
books, although not authorized, were dedicated either
to the King or to Laud, and pubhcly tolerated/ Many
theologians, friends of Laud, such as Bishop Montague
and Dr. Cosins, professed similar views, and did so with
impunity, whilst preachers who were beloved by the
people, vainly exhausted all the resources of courage
and concession to obtain some liberty to speak and
write. Accordingly the behef in the approaching
triumph of Popery daily gained credit ; and the cour-
tiers, who had the best opportunities of judgmg, shared
this behef with the general mass of the nation. The
daughter of the Duke of Devonshire became a Catholic.
Laud inquired what reasons had induced her to take
this step : " I am not fond of being in a crowd," she
replied ; "I see that your Grace and many others are
on the way to Rome, so I wish to go there alone, and
before you."
The splendour and exclusive dominion of episcopacy
being thus estabhshed, at least as Laud flattered him-
self, his next endeavour was to secure its independence.
It might have been anticipated, that in such a design
he would have found the King less docile to liis coun-
sels ; but this was not the case. The divine right
of the bishops became, in a short time, the official doc-
trine, not only of the superior clergy, but of the King
himself. Dr. Hall, Bishop of Exeter, developed it in
a treatise which Laud took the trouble to revise, and
from which he eliminated every vague or timid plu'ase,
' Whitelocke's Memorials, p. 22.
208 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
every semblance of doubt or concession.' From books,
this doctrine soon passed into acts. The bishops held
their Ecclesiastical Courts no longer in the name and by-
virtue of delegation from the King, but in their own
name alone. The episcopal seal alone was affixed to their
acts ; a direct oath of conformity was required from the
srovernors of the factories abroad : and it was declared
that the superintendence of the universities belonged
of right to the metropolitan.^ The supremacy of the
temporal prince was not formally abolished, but it
might have been said that it only subsisted to serve as
a veil to usurpations which must eventually destroy it.
Wliile thus gradually emancipating itself from the
royal control, the Church, at the same time, encroached
upon civil affairs : her jurisdiction was extended at the
expense of the ordinary tribunals, and never before had
so many ecclesiastics held seats in the King's council,
or occupied the great offices of State. Now and then
the lawyers, whose personal interests were in danger,
protested against these encroachments ;^ but Charles
paid no attention to their complaints ; and so great
was the confidence of Laud, that, when he had obtained
for Bishop Juxon the white staff of Lord Treasurer, he
exclaimed in a trans]3ort of joy, " Now if the Church
will not hold up themselves under God, I can do no
"4
more.
When matters had reached this pass, the people
> Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii., p. 292.
* Ibid., vol. ii., p. 244 ; Whitelocke's Memorials, p. 22.
=* Clarendon's History of the Rebelhou, vol. ii., p. 246 ; Neal's His-
tory of the Puritans, vol. ii., p. 24,3.
■• Laud's Diary, p. 53 ; under date of March G, IGiJfi.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 209
were not alone in their irritation. The high nobihty,
in part at least, took the alarm. ^ In the assumptions
of the Church, they perceived something far worse than
mere tyranny — a positive revolution, which, not content
with crushing all popular reform, distorted and im-
perilled that first Reformation wliich had been effected
by the king and adopted by the barons. The latter
had learned to proclaim the supremacy and divine
right of the throne, which, at least, emancipated them
from all other sway ; but now they were called upon
to admit with equal readiness the divine right of the
bishops, and to humble themselves in their turn before
that Church whose abasement they had applauded, and
in whose spoils they had shared. They were required
to manifest servihty, wliich is even more jealous of its
prerogatives than liberty of its rights ; whilst others,
hitherto their inferiors, were permitted to assume inde-
pendence. They felt that their rank, and perhaps even
their property, was in danger. Arrogance on the part
of the clergy was an offence to which they had long
been unaccustomed ; but now they heard it said that a
day would soon come when a simple clerk would be
held in as much account as the proudest gentleman in
the kingdom \- they saw the bishops and their crea-
tures appointed to nearly all public offices, and enjoy-
ing nearly all the favours of the crown ; thus usurping
the only compensation which had been left to the
nobihty in exchange for their ancient splendour,
hberties, and power. Charles, moreover, though sincere
in his devotion to the clergy, had reckoned upon gain-
' Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii., p. 250. ^ Ibid., p. 251.
VOL. I. P
210 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
ing by their elevation, a staunch support against the
ill will of the people ; but ere long, the disposition to
censure the conduct and to suspect the intentions of
the government became universal; discontent spread
from the workshops of the City to the drawing-rooms of
WhitehaU.
This discontent was manifested among the higher
classes, by a distaste for the court, and a freedom of
mind previously unprecedented. Many of the most re-
spected of the nobility retired to their estates, wishing
to express their disapprobation by their removal from
court. In London, and around the throne, a spu'it of
independence and inquiry penetrated into societies
which had hitherto been characterized only by servility
or frivolousness. Since the reign of Elizabeth, a taste
for literature and science had ceased to be the exclusive
possession of professed students ; the society of distin-
guished men of every kind, philosophers, authors,
poets, or artists, and the pleasures of witty or scholarly
conversation, had been sought after by the court as an
additional adornment, and by men of the world as
a noble pastime ; but no pohtical opposition was
connected with such associations ; it was even the
fashion, whether these meetings were held in a famous
tavern or in a nobleman's house, to devote them to
casting ridicule upon the morose humour and fanatical
resistance of the rehgious Nonconformists, already
known under the name of Puritans. Festivities,
theatrical performances, hterary discussions, an agree-
able interchange of flatteries and services, were the
only thoughts which occupied the attention of a society
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 211
of which the tlirone was usually the centre, and always
the protector. This ceased to be the case in the reign
of Charles the First ; meetings of literary men and
men of the world continued to be held, but graver
questions were treated at them, and discussed far from
the ken of power, which would have taken offence at
their discussion. Public affairs, religious questions,
and problems in moral science, formed the ordinary
topics of these conversations ; they were brilliant and
animated, and were eagerly attended by young men who
had returned from their travels, or who were studying
law in the Inns of Court, indeed, by all men of serious
and active minds, whose rank or fortune allowed them
sufficient leisure. Selden lavished on them the treasures
of his erudition ; Chillingworth explained to them his
doubts on matters of faith ; Lord Falkland, then a young
man, opened to them his house, and his gardens were
compared to those of the Academy.^ At these meetings
neither sects nor parties were formed, but free and
strong opinions. Unfettered by interest, pledged to no
design, and drawn together solely by the pleasure of
enlarging their ideas by communication, and of mutu-
ally inspiring one another with generous sentiments,
the men who thus assembled carried on their discus-
sions without constraint, and cared only to seek for
justice and truth. Some, specially inclining to philo-
sophic meditations, busied themselves with inquiring
what forms of government best respected the dignity
of man ; others, lawyers by profession, allowed no
illegal act of the King or his council to pass uncri-
' Clarendon's Life, vol. i., pp. 42-50.
p 2
212 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE EIRST
ticised ; others, theologians by calling or taste, carefuUy
studied the creeds and worship of the first ages of
Christianity, and compared them with those of the
Church which Laud was endeavouring to establish.
They were united neither by common passions and
dangers, nor by any very definite principles and objects ;
but all agreed and vied with one another in detesting
tyranny, in despising the coui't, in regretting the Par-
liament, and in longing for a reform wliich they had
but sHght expectations of obtaining, but by which
each, in the freedom of his mental aspirations, hoped
to attain the term of all his sorrows, and the accom-
plishment of all his wishes.
Further from the court, among men of less elevated
condition or less cultivated minds, feehngs were more
stern, and ideas more narrow, but more definite. Here,
opinions were bound up with interests, and passions
with opinions. The anger of the inferior nobility and
gentry was directed most especially agamst political
tyranny. The decay of the higher aristocracy and of
the feudal system had greatly diminished distinctions
of rank among gentlemen ; all regarded themselves
as descendants of those barons who had extorted
the grant of Magna Charta, and were indignant at
seeing their rights, persons, and property subjected
to the caprice of the King or his advisers, when their
ancestors, as they proudly affirmed, had once made war
against the sovereign, and dictated to him the law.
No philosophical theory, no nice distinction between
democracy, aristocracy, and royalty, occupied their
minds , the House of Commons alone reigned in
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 213
their thoughts ; in their eyes, it represented the nobi-
lity as weU as the people, the ancient coalition of the
barons as well as the entire nation ; it alone had, in
bygone days, defended public liberties — it alone was
capable of regaining them ; it alone was thought of
when the Parliament was named, and the legitimacy
and necessity of its omnipotence was the idea whicli
gradually took firm hold of all minds. With regard
to the Church, most of the gentry entertained no sys-
tematic views or destructive designs respecting the
form of its government; episcopacy inspired them
with no repugnance ; but the bishops were odious to
them, chiefly as the abettors and supporters of tyranny.
The Reformation had proclaimed the emancipation of
civil society, and had abolished the usm'pations of the
spiritual power in temporal matters. The Anglican
clergy wished to resume what Rome had lost. That
this ambition should be repressed, that the Pope
should have no successors in England, and that the
bishops, excluded from the government of the State,
should confine themselves to administering the reh-
gious affairs of their dioceses, in accordance with the
laws of the land — was the general wish of the country
nobility, who were not indisposed to approve of the
episcopal constitution of the Chm'ch, provided that it
assumed neither political power nor divine right.
In the towns, the superior class of citizens, and in the
country, a very large number of gentlemen, and nearly
all the small freehold proprietors, carried their irrita-
tion and their views of reform, in religious matters
especially, much farther than this. They were swayed
214 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
by a passionate attachment to the Reformation, by an
ardent longing to adopt all the consequences of its
principles, and by a profound hatred of everything
that still retained any resemblance to Popery, or sug-
gested recollections of it to their memory. It was
beneath the usurpation of the Romish hierarchy, they
said, that the primitive Church, with the simphcity
of its worship and the pui-ity of its faith, had suc-
cumbed. Accordingly, the master-spirits of the Re-
formation, the new apostles Zwingle, Calvin, and
Knox, had hastened to abohsh that tyrannical constitu-
tion with its idolatrous ceremonies. They had taken
the Gospel for their rule, and the primitive Church for
their model. England alone persisted in walking in
the ways of Popery ; was the yoke of the bishops less
heavy, their conduct more evangelical, and their pride
less arrogant than that of the Romish prelates ? Like
them, they cared only to rule and to enrich themselves ;
like them, they dreaded frequent preaching, austerity
of manners, and liberty of prayer ; Hke them, they
aimed at subjecting the aspirations of Christian souls
to minute and unchangeable forms ; like them, they
substituted the worldly splendour of rites and cere-
monies, for the life-giving word of the Lord. If on the
sacred day of the Sabbath, true Christians wished to
devote themselves, in retirement, to pious exercises,
the noise of games and dancing, and the disorders
of drunkenness, in every street and square, insulted
their devotion And the bishops were not satisfied
with permitting the people to indulge in these profane
pastimes ; they advised and almost commanded them.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 215
for fear that the people should acquire a taste for holier
pleasures.^ Was there, among their flock, a man
whose timorous conscience took alarm at some of the
practices of the Church? they imperiously enjoined
upon him the observance of its most trivial rules : was
another attached to the laws? they tormented him
with their continual innovations ; the humble they
crushed, and they irritated the high-minded to revolt.
In everything they exhibited the maxims, practices,
and pretensions of the enemies of the true faith. And
why was this abandonment of Gospel precepts, this
oppression of the most zealous behevers ? To maintain a
power which the gospel conferred on no one, and which
the first behevers had not known. If the episcopate
were abolished ; if the Church, resuming its proper
character, were henceforth governed by ministers pos-
sessing equal attributes, simple preachers of evangehc
doctrines, and regulating in concert, by common deli-
beration, the discipline of the Christian community,
then it would be truly the Church of Christ ; then
there would be no more idolatry, no more tyranny ;
and the Reformation, consummated at length, would
no longer have to stand in fear of Popery, which now
was at the door, ready to invade the house of God,
whose keeper seemed to be making ready to give it
entrance.^
When the people, in whose breasts, ever since the
origin of the Reformation, these thoughts had been
' Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii., p. 212 ; Rushworth, part ii.,
vol. i., pp. 191-196.
^ Rushworth, part iii., vol. i., pp. 172-188.
216 HISTORY or CHARLES THE FIRST
darkly fermenting, saw them adopted by a number of
rich, respected, and influential men, their own direct
and natural patrons, they began to feel a confidence in
them and in themselves, which, mthout breaking out
into sedition, speedily changed the aspect and con-
dition of the country. As early as 1582 and 1616, a
few Nonconformists, separating formally from the
Anglican Church, had constituted themselves, under
the names, afterwards so celebrated, of Brownists and
Independents, into small dissenting sects, which re-
jected all general government of the Church, and
proclaimed the right of each congregation of behevers
to regulate its own mode of worship, upon purely
republican principles.^ Since that period, several
private congregations had been estabhshed on this
model, but they were few in number, not rich, and
almost as alien to the nation as to the Church. Ex-
posed, without any means of defence, to persecution,
whenever discovered, these sectaries fled the country,
and generally retired to Holland. But soon regretful
longings for their native land sprang up to struggle,
in their hearts, with the craving for hberty ; and then,
communicating by message with the friends whom
they had left behind, they arranged to go together in
search of a new country, in regions almost unknown,
but which at least belonged to England, and wliere
Englishmen were the only settlers. The more wealthy
sold their property, bought a small vessel, a supply
of provisions and implements of husbandry, and, under
the guidance of a minister of their faith, went to rejoin
' Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. i., p. 301 ; vol. ii., pp. 42, 92.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 217
their friends in Holland, tlience to proceed with them
to North America, where some attempts at colonization
were just beginning to be made. It rarely happened
that the vessel was large enough to carry all who desired
to be passengers. All repaired to the sea-shore, to the
place where the sliip lay at anchor ; and there on the
sand, under the cliffs, the minister of that part of the
congregation which was to remain behind preached a
farewell sermon, and the pastor of those about to
leave anwered by another sermon ; they prayed long
together, embraced each other for the last time before
embarking, and, whilst the one party set sail, the
others returned sadly home to await, among an mi-
sympathising people, the opportunity and means of
rejoining their bretlii-en.^ Several successive expe-
ditions of this kind took place without any hindrance,
on account of the obscurity of the fugitives. But all
at once, in 1637, the King perceived that they were
becoming numerous and frequent, that wealthy citizens
engaged in them, and carried away with them large
sums of money ; already it was said, property to the
amount of more than twelve milHons had been thus
taken out of the country.^ Tyranny then weighed no
longer upon a few weak and obscure sectaries alone ;
their opinions had spread, and tlieu' sentiments pre-
vailed among even those classes which did not share
in their opinions. From various causes, the govern-
ment had become so odious, that thousands of men,
differing in rank, fortune, and design, quitted their
' Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii., pp. 110-112.
■' Ibid., p. 186.
218 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
native land. An order in council, issued on the 1st of
May, 1C37, prohibited these emigrations.' At that
moment, eight vessels, ready to depart, lay at anclior
in the Thames : in one of these Pym, Haslerig,
Hampden, and Cromwell were abeady embarked.^
They were wrong to fly from tyranny, for the people
were beginning to brave it. Discontent had been
succeeded by fermentation. Neither the re-establish-
ment of legal order, nor even the abolition of episcopal
rule, were now the limits of aU men's aims. Under
the shadow of the great party which was planning
this twofold reform, a host of bolder sects and more
audacious opinions had sprung up. On every side,
small congregations were detaching themselves from
the Church, taking for their distinctive symbol some-
times a particular interpretation of some dogma, some-
times the rejection of some practice, and very often
the destruction of all ecclesiastical government, the
absolute independence of believers, and sole reliance on
the inspiration of the Holy Spu-it. Passion every-
where overcame fear. In spite of Laud's active inqui-
sition, sectaries of all sorts met together for worship,
in towns, in some cellar ; in the country, under the
roof of a barn, or in the midst of a wood. The dreari-
ness of the place, the danger and difficulty of meeting,
all combined to excite the imagination of both preachers
and hearers ; and they spent long hours, and often
entire nights, together, in praying and singing, seeking
' Rushwortli, part ii., vol. i., p. 409.
■^ Neal's History of the I'uritans, vol. ii., p. 287 ; Walpole's Catalogue
of Royal and Noble Authors, vol. i., p. 20G.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 219
the Lord and cursing their enemies. The irrationality
of their doctrines, and the small number of their
partizans, were of httle importance to the safety and
even to the credit of these fanatical associations ; they
were sheltered and protected by the general feeling of
resentment which had taken hold upon the country.
Ere long, and whatever might be their names, creeds,
or designs, the confidence of the Nonconformists in
public favour became so great that they did not
hesitate to distinguish themselves by their dress and
manners ; thus professing their opinions under the
very eyes of their persecutors. In their black clothes,
with their hau' cropped close, and their heads covered
with high-crowned and broad-brimmed hats, they
were everywhere regarded with respect by the mul-
titude, who gave them the name of Saints. Their
credit increased to such a degree that, notwithstanding
the virulence with which they were persecuted, even
hypocrisy declared in their favour. Bankrupt mer-
chants, workmen out of employment, men ruined by
their debauchery and debts — in a word, all who were
desirous to raise themselves in the esteem of the
pubKc, assumed the dress, looks, and language of the
saints, and at once obtained welcome and protection
from the passionate creduhty of the people. "^ In
pohtical matters, the effervescence, though less general
and less disorderly, continued to extend. Among the
inferior classes, in consequence either of their im-
proved circumstances or of thek rehgious behef,
notions and desires of equality, to wliich they had
' Memoirs of Mrs. Hutchinson, p. 81.
220 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
previous!}^ been strangers, were beginning to circulate.
In a higher sphere of society, men of powerful and
lofty mind, detesting the Court, despising the impotence
of the ancient laws, and yielding with passionate
eagerness to their unfettered thoughts, dreamed, in
their soHtary studies or in their secret conversations,
of simpler and more efficient institutions. Others,
agitated by intentions less pure, destitute of all re-
ligious faith, cynical in their manners, and thrown by
their humour or by chance among the discontented
party, aspired to any catastrophe which should give
scope to their ambition, or at least emancipate them
from all check. Fanaticism and hcentiousness, sin-
cerity and hypocrisy, respect and contempt for old
institutions, lawful wants and intemperate desires, all
concurred to ferment the national anger ; all combined
to attack a power whose tyranny animated all classes
of men with the same feehngs of hatred, whilst its
imprudence and weakness allowed activity and hope
to the pettiest factions and the wildest dreams.
For some time the King and liis council remained
in ignorance of the progress of public indignation ;
keeping aloof from the nation, and meeting with no
effective resistance, the Government, in spite of its
embarrassments, was haughty and self-confident.
In order to justify its conduct, it frequently spoke in
emphatic language of the bad spirit that was abroad ;
but its momentary alarm did not awaken its prudence,
and while fearing, it disdained, its enemies. Even
the necessity of aggravating its oppressive policy from
day to day did not enlighten it ; and it congratulated
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 221
itself on its strength, in proportion as the increasing
danger compelled it to act with greater severity.
Meanwhile, in 1636, England was inundated with
pamphlets against the favour shown to Papists, against
the disorderly lives of the courtiers, and most of all,
against the tyranny of Laud and the bishops. Al-
ready the Star Chamber had more than once severely
punished such publications ; but they had never before
been so numerous and violent, so widely diffused or
so eagerly welcomed. They were distributed in the
streets of towns, in the fields of the country ; bold
smugglers brought thousands of copies fi'om Holland,
and sold them at a great profit; they were even
commented upon in the chiu'ches, which Laud had
not yet succeeded in completely purging of Puritan
preachers. Irritated at the inefficiency of its seve-
rities, the Council resolved to act with increased
rigour. A lawyer, a minister, and a physician —
Prynne, Burton, and Bastvvick — were brought before
the Star-Chamber at the same time. The Government
wished at first to prosecute them for liigh treason,
which would have entailed capital punishment ; but
the judges declared that it would be impossible to strain
either the law or their writings so far, and the Gro-
vernment was obhged to be content with trying them
for petty treason or felony.^
The iniquity of the trial was on a par with the
barbarity of the sentence. The accused were required
to furnish their defence without delay, or else they
would be held to have admitted the facts alleged
' Rushworth, part ii., vol. i., p. 324.
222 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
against them. They replied they could not write a
defence, for they had been refused paper, pens, and ink.
They were supplied with these requisites, and en-
joined to get their defence signed hy counsel ; but for
several days, admission into the prison was refused to
the counsel whom they had chosen. When at length
he was admitted into their presence, he refused to
sign their defence, as he feared to compromise himself
with the court ; and no other barrister would under-
take the case. They then requested permission to
present their defence signed by themselves. The
Court rejected their application, repeating that, with-
out a barrister's signature, it would hold the facts to be
admitted. " My lords," said Prynne, " you require
impossibilities." The Court merely reiterated its
former declaration. The trial opened with a brutal
insult to one of the prisoners. Four years previously,
for another pamplilet, Prynne had been sentenced to
lose his ears. " I had thought," said Lord Finch,
looking at him, " Mr. Prynne had no ears ; but me-
thinks he hath ears." For the better satisfaction of
the curiosity of the judges, an usher of the Court was
commanded to tm-n up his hair, and show his muti-
lated ears ; " upon the sight whereof the lords were
displeased they had been formerly no more cut off,"
and burst into invectives against him. " I hope your
honours will not be offended," said Prynne, "pray
God give you ears to hear."'
They were sentenced to the pillory, to lose their
ears, to pay a fine of 5000/. a-piece, and to be im-
' State Trials, vol. iii., cols. 715-717.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 223
prisoned for life. On the clay on wliicli the sentence
was executed, the 30th of June, 1637, an immense
crowd thronged to the place of punislmient ; the exe-
cutioner wished to keep them off; " Let them come,
and spare not," said Burton, " that they may learn to
suffer." The man was moved, and did not insist.^
" Sir," said a woman to Burton, " by this sermon,
God may convert many unto him." He answered,
" God is able to do it indeed."^ A young man turned
pale as he looked at liini : " Son, son," said Biu'ton
to him, " what is the matter, you look so pale ? I
have as much comfort as my heart can hold, and if
I had need of more, I should have it."^ Every mo-
ment the crowd pressed nearer and nearer around the
sufferers. Some one gave Bastwick a bunch of flowers ;
a bee settled on it : " Do ye not see this poor bee,"
he said, " she hath found out this very place to suck
sweetness from these flowers, and cannot I suck sweet-
ness m this very place from Christ."^ " Had we
respected our liberties," said Prynne, " we had not
stood here at this time : it was for the general good
and hberties of you all, that we have now thus far
engaged our own liberties in this cause. For did you
know how deeply they have intrenched on your
liberties, if you knew but into what times you are
cast, it would make you look about you, and see how
far your liberty doth lawfully extend, and so maintain
it. Therefore, Christian people, I beseech you all,
stand firm and be zealous for the cause of God and
' state Trials, vol. iii., col. 751. ^ Ibid., col. 753.
^ Ibid., col. 762. * Ibid., col. 751.
224 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
his true religion, to the shedding of your dearest
blood, otherwise you will bring yourselves and all
your posterities into perpetual bondage and slavery."^
At these words, the place resounded with solemn
acclamations.
Several months after this, on the 18th of April,
1638, scenes of a similar character occurred around
the scaffold, on which, for the same offence, Lilburne
was suffering equally cruel treatment. The enthu-
siasm of both the victim and the people appeared even
more ardent. Tied to a cart's tail, and whipped by
the hangman through the streets of Westminster,
Lilburne never ceased to exhort the multitude that
thronged after liim. When fastened in the pillory,
he continued to speak ; he was ordered to be silent,
but in vain; he was gagged, but taking pamphlets
from his pockets, he threw them among the people,
who seized them eagerly ; his hands were then tied.
Silent and motionless, the crowd that had listened to
him remained to look at him. Some of his judges were
at a window, as if curious to see how far his perseverance
would carry him ; it tired out their curiosity."
As yet the martyrs had been only men of the
people ; not one of them was distinguished either
by his name, his fortune, or his talents ; several of
them, indeed, before their trial, had been held of small
account in their professions ; and the opinions which
they had maintained were, in many respects, those of
the fanatical sects which found most favour with the
' State Trials, vol. iii., cols. 748, 749.
* Ibid., cols. 1315-1368.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 225
masses. Proud of their courage, they soon began to
accuse the higher classes of weakness and apathy :
" Honour," it was said, " that did use to reside in the
head, is now, hke the gout, got into the foot."^ This
was far from being the case ; the comitry gentlemen
and wealthy citizens were no less irritated than the
people ; but, with greater prudence and less passion,
they were waiting for some great occasion and some
well-founded prospect of success. The public outcry
roused them to action, and inspired them with con-
fidence. Tlie moment had in fact arrived, when the
nation, agitated throughout its entire extent, needed
nothing but well-known, serious, and influential
leaders, who would head the resistance, not as mere
sectaries or adventurers, but in the name of the rights
and interests of the whole country.
John Hampden, a gentleman of Buckinghamshire,^
gave the signal for this national resistance. Before him
several had attempted it without success. They had
refused to pay the tax known by the name of Ship-
money, demanding that the question should be brought
before the Court of King's Bench, and that they should
be admitted to maintain, in solemn legal process, the
unlawfulness of the tax, and the lawfulness of their
refusal to pay it ; but the court had always succeeded in
eluding such an investigation.^ Hampden obtained it.
Although in 162G and 1628, he had sat in Parhament
on the Opposition benches, he had not incurred the
' This saying is quoted in a letter from Lord Haughton to Sir Thomas
Wentworth, dated May 19, 1627. StrafFord's Letters, vol. i., p. 38.
^ Born in London in the year 1594.
^ Rushworth, part ii., vol, i., pp. 323, 414.
VOL. I. Q
226 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
particular suspicion of the court. Since the last dis-
solution he had lived quietly, sometimes residing on
liis estates, sometimes travelling in England and Scot-
land ; everywhere attentively observing the state of
men's minds, and forming nuriierous connections, but
never making his opinions known by murmurs or
complaints. The possessor of a large fortune, he made
an honourable but unostentatious use of it ; grave and
simple in his manners, but without any affectation of
austerity, remarkable even for his affability and the
serenity of his temper, he was respected by all liis
neighbours, whatever might be their political views,
and was regarded as a sensible man opposed to the
prevalent system, but neither fanatical nor factious.
The magistrates of the county, therefore, though they
did not fear him, treated him with the utmost consi-
deration. In 1686, on their assessment of the ship-
money, they rated liim at the small sum of twenty
shillings, intending doubtless to favour him, and hoping
also that the moderate amount of the tax would pre-
vent so prudent a man from disputing it. Hampden
refused to pay, but without uproar or irritation, his
sole object being to obtain, in his person, a solemn
judgment upon the rights of his country. In prison,
his behaviour was equally cahn and reserved, he merely
requested to be brought to trial, and pointed out that
the King was no less interested than himself in having
such a question settled by the laws. The King, full
of confidence at having recently^ obtained from the
' On the 14th of February, 1637. Rushworth^ part ii., vol. i., pp.
352-355 ; State Trials, vol. iii., cols. 825-832.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 227
judges a declaration that, in case of urgent necessity,
for the safety of the kingdom, ship-money might
legally be levied, allowed himself at length to be per-
suaded to grant Hampden the honour of fighting the
case. Hampden's counsel supported him with as much
prudence as he had himself displayed, speaking of the
King and his prerogatives with profound respect,
avoiding all noisy declamation, and all questionable
principles, and relying solely upon the laws and history
of the country. One of them, Mr. Holborne, even
checked himself several times, begging the Court to
pardon the energy of his argument, and to inform him
if he overstepped the limits prescribed by law and
decorum. Tlie Crown lawyers themselves praised Mr.
Hampden for his moderation.' In fine, dmdng the
thirteen days that the trial lasted, and amid all the
public irritation excited by the case, the fundamental
laws of the country were discussed without its being
possible to address any charge of passion, or to attri-
bute any suspicion of seditious designs, to the de-
fenders of the public Hberties.^
On the 12th of June, 1637, Hampden was con-
demned ; only four judges voted in his fiwoui*.^ The
' Clarendon's History of tlie Eebellion, vol. i., p. 235.
2 State Trials, vol. iii., cols. 846-1254.
8 These were Sir Humphrey Davenport, Sir John Denham, Sir
Richard Hutton, and Sir George Crooke. Contrary to the general
assertion, Dr. Lingard states that five judges pronounced in favour of
Hampden (History of England, vol. x., p. 33). His error evidently
arises from his having counted as two votes, the two opinions given in
Hampden's favour by Justice Crooke, which are both inserted in the
report of the trial. State Trials, vol. iii., cols. 1127-1181. In 1645, the
son of Justice Hutton lost his life at Sherborne, fighting for the royal
cause. Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. v., p. 21)3.
q2
228 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
King congratulated himself upon this judgment, as a
triumphantly decisive sanction of arbitrary power.
The people took the same view of it, and hoped nothing
further from either the magistrates or the laws ; but
Charles was wrong to rejoice, for the people, in losing
hope, had regained their courage. Discontent, which
had until then been incoherent and various, now became
unanimous : gentlemen, citizens, farmers, tradesmen,
Presbyterians, sectaries — the whole nation felt itself
stricken by this decision.^ The name of Hampden
was. in all mouths ; it was uttered everywhere with
affection and pride, for his destiny was the type, and
his conduct the glory, of his country. The friends
and servants of the Court scarcely dared to maintain
the legality of their victory. The judges excused
themselves, almost confessing their cowardice, in order
to obtain forgiveness. Peaceful citizens were sorrow-
fully silent ; men of bolder minds openly expressed
their indignation, with feelings of secret joy. Ere
long, both in London and in the counties, the disaf-
fected had found leaders, who met together to form
plans for future action. Measures were taken in every
direction for acting in concert, and affording mutual
support in case of need. In a word, a party sprang
into existence which carefully concealed itself, but was
publicly avowed by the nation. The King and his
council were still rejoicing over their last triumph,
when their adversaries had already found an opportu-
nity and the means of action.
' Clarendon's History of the Kebellion, vol. i., p. 121 ; May's History
of the Long ParHament, p. 84 ; Hacket's Life of Bishop Williams,
part ii., p. 127.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 2.29
About a month after the condemnation of Hamp-
den, on the 23rd of July, 1637, a violent sedition
broke out at Edinburgh. It was occasioned by the
arbitrary and sudden introduction of a new liturgy.
Ever since his accession, in imitation of his father's
example, Charles had never ceased his endeavours to
destroy the repubhcan constitution which the Church
of Scotland had borrowed from Calvinism, and to re-
estabhsh the Scottish episcopate, some shadow of which
still subsisted, in all the plenitude of its ancient autlio-
rity and splendour. Fraud, severity, menace, and cor-
ruption, every means had been employed to obtain
success in this design. Despotism had ever proved
itself phant and patient ; it had appealed sometimes to
the ambition of the clergy, and sometimes to the in-
terest of the small landowners, promising the latter an
easy ransom from the burden of tithes, and offering to
the former the high dignities of the Church and the
great offices of State ; proceeding steadily towards its
object, but resting satisfied with slow and tortuous
progress. From time to time, the alarm of the people
became more active, and the national clergy resisted ;
their religious meetings were then suspended, and tlie
boldest preachers banished. The Parliament, though
often servile, sometimes hesitated to do the monarch's
bidding ; difficulties were then thrown in the way of
the elections, the debates were stifled, and even the
votes were falsified.^ In all these struggles the victory
invariably remained on the side of the Crown ; and the
' Burnet's History of his Own Time, vol. i., pp. 33-35 ; Malcolm
Laing's History of Scotland, vol. iii., pp. 110-112.
230 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
Church of Scotland thus passed by degrees under the
yoke of a hierarchy and disciphne ahiiost identical with
those of the Church of England, and which gave sanc-
tion equally to the absolute power and the divine right
of both bishops and King. In 1636 the work seemed
almost complete ; the episcopal bench had recovered
their jurisdiction. Spottiswood, the Archbishop of St.
Andrews, was Chancellor of the kingdom ; Maxwell,
the Bishop of Eoss, was on the point of becoming
High Treasurer, and of fourteen prelates, nine had seats
in the Privy Council, and possessed the preponderance
in that assembly.^ Charles and Laud deemed that the
time had come for consummating their design by sud-
denly imposing upon the Scottish Church, without
consulting either the clergy or the people, a canonical
code and a form of worship in accordance with its new
condition.
But the Reformation in Scotland had not, as in
England, originated in the will of the Prince and the
servility of the Court. Popular in its commencement,
it had, by its own inherent strength, and in spite of
all obstacles, ascended to the throne, instead of
descending from it. No difference of system, posi-
tion, or interests, had, from the outset, divided its
partizans ; and during the course of a long struggle,
they had grown accustomed not only to brave, but also
to exercise power. The Scottish preachers could boast
of having roused the nation to rebellion, maintained a
civil war, detlironed a Queen, and ruled their King
' Clarendon's History of the Kcbellion, vol. i., pp. 152-ir;5 ; Laing's
History of Scotland, vol, iii., p. 122.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 231
until the day when, called to occupy a foreign throne,
he had escaped from their sway. Strong in this
unity, and in the recollection of all these victories,
they boldly mingled, in their sermons as in their
thoughts, politics with religion, and the affairs of the
country with controversies on matters of faith ; and,
from the pulpit, they censured the conduct of the
ministers of the crown just as freely as they blamed the
peccadilloes of their own parisliioners. Under their
tuition, the people had learned similar boldness of
thought and language ; owing the triumph of the
Reformation to themselves alone, they cherished it,
not only as their creed, but as the work of their hands.
They held as a fundamental maxim the spiritual inde-
pendence of the Church, and not the religious supre-
macy of the monarch, and beheved themselves
sufficiently strong, as well as rightfully entitled, to
defend against popery, royalty, and prelacy, that
which their unaided efforts had established in spite of
all opposition. The preponderance which their kings
acquired by their elevation to the throne of England
damped their courage for awhile ; and hence the
success obtained by James against those Presbyterian
doctrines and institutions in which, as simple King of
Scotland, he had been forced to acquiesce. Kings
easily allow themselves to be deceived by the apparent
servility of nations. Because Scotland was intimidated,
Charles believed it vanquished. By the aid of his
supremacy and of prelacy, he was able, in England, to
keep down the popular reformation, which had always
been combated with success by his predecessors : he
232 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
thought he would be able to destroy it in Scotland,
where it liad reigned supreme, where it alone was
legally constituted, and where the supremacy of the
throne was acknowledged by the bishops only, who
liad scarcely gained a footing in the land, and who
possessed no other support than that afforded them by
the King.
The attempt had an issue which has often, on similar
occasions, struck the servants of despotism with asto-
nishment and grief: it failed just when its success
aj)peared to be certain.
The restoration of prelacy, the abolition of ancient
laws, the suspension or corruption of political or reli-
gious assemblies, everything in fact which could be
done out of the sight of the people, had been success-
fully accomplished. But as soon as it became
necessary to consummate the work by altering the form
of public worship — on the very day on which, for the
first time, the new liturgy was introduced in the
cathedral of Edinbm'gh, — all was overthrown. In a
few weeks, a sudden and universal insurrection brought
to Edinburgh,' from all parts of the kingdom, an
immense multitude, — landowners, farmers, citizens,
artizans, and peasants — who came to protest against
the innovation with which their mode of worship was
threatened, and to support their protest by their
presence. They thronged the houses and streets,
encamped at the gates and beneath the walls of the
city, besieged the hall of the privy council, who vainly
sought assistance of the town-council, as it was in the
' Rushworth, part ii., vol. i., p. 404.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 233
same predicament, insulted the bishops when they
appeared in pubhc, and finally drew up, in the High
Street, an accusation of tyranny and idolatry against
them, which was signed by numbers of ministers and
gentlemen, and even by several powerful lords. ^ The
King, without giving any answer to their complaints,
sent orders to the petitioners to withdraw; they
obeyed less from submission than from necessity ; and
returned, a month afterwards, more numerous than
ever. This time, no disorder occurred ; their passion
was grave and silent ; the upper classes had engaged
in the quarrel ; in a fortnight, a regular organization
of the resistance was proposed, adopted, and com-
menced operations ; a superior council, elected from
the different ranks of citizens, was appointed to carry
on the general enterprise, and in every county and
every town, subordinate councils executed its instruc-
tions. The insurrection had disappeared, but held
itself in readiness to reappear at the summons of the
government which it had chosen for its guidance.
Charles gave an answer at length,^ but it was to
confirm the litm-gy, and to forbid the petitioners to
assemble, on pain of high treason. The Scottish
Council was directed to keep the royal proclamation
secret until the moment of its pubhcation. But before
it reached Edinbm-gh, the leaders of the insurgents
were already acquainted with its contents. They
immediately convoked the people to support their re-
' Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii., p. 274 ; Laing's History of
Scotland, vol. iii,, pp. 136-138.
^ Rushworth, part ii., vol. ii., p. 408.
234 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
presentatives. The Council, to anticipate them, pub-
lished the proclamation without delay. At the same
moment, and on the very footsteps of the King's
heralds, two peers of the realm, the Lords Hume
and Lindsay, published and placarded, in the name of
their fellow-citizens, a protest which they had signed.
Other gentlemen discharged the same office wherever
the King's proclamation was read and placarded.
Growing daily more excited, more menaced, and more
united, the insurgents resolved at length to bind them-
selves together by a solemn compact similar to those
which, on several occasions since the origin of the
Eeformation, Scotland had adopted for the pm-pose of
openly and boldly declaring and maintaining her rights,
her faith, and her desires. Alexander Henderson, the
most influential among the ministers, and Archibald
Jolmston, a celebrated lawyer, afterwards Lord War-
ristoun, drew up this compact under the popular name
of the Covenant ; and it was revised and aj^proved by
the Lords Balmerino, Loudoun, and Rothes. In addi-
tion to a minute and oft-repeated confession of faith, it
contained a formal rejection of the new canons and the
new liturgy, and an oath of national union to defend,
against all perils, the sovereign, the religion, the laws
and the hberties of the country. No sooner was the
Covenant proposed than it was received with unani-
mous feelings of joy and satisfaction. Messengers,
who relieved each other from village to village, con-
veyed it with inconceivable rapidity, into the remotest
districts of the kingdom, just as the fiery cross used to
be carried over the mountains to summon to war all
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 235
the vassals of the same chieftain.^ Gentlemen, minis-
ters, citizens, labom-ers, women and children, all
assembled in crowds in the public streets and in the
places of worship, to swear fidelity to the Covenant.
Even the Highlanders, carried away by the national
enthusiasm, forgot for a moment their passionate
loyalty and bitter animosities, to ally themselves with
their country's cause. In less than six weeks, the whole
of Scotland was confederated under the law of the
Covenant. The government officers, a few thousand
Catholics, and the city of Aberdeen, alone refused to
take part in the movement.
So much boldness astonished Charles. He had been
told of insane riots by a vile rabble ; the town-council
of Edinburgh had even come forward humbly to
solicit his clemency, promising the prompt punisli-
' When a chieftain designed to summon his clan on any sudden and
important emergency, he killed a goat, made a cross of some hght wood,
seared its extremities in the fire, and then extinguished them in the
blood of the animal. This cross was called the Fiery Cross or Cross of
Shame, because disobedience to what the symbol implied inferred
infamy. It was dehvered to a swift and trusty messenger, who ran full
speed with it to the next hamlet, where he presented it to the principal
person, with a single word, naming the place of rendezvous. He who
received the symbol was bound to send it forward, with equal despatch,
to the next village ; and thus it passed, with incredible celerity, through
all the district which owed allegiance to the chief, and also among his
allies and neighbours, if the danger were common to them. At sight
of the fiery cross, every man, from sixteen years old to sixty, capable
of bearing arms, was obliged instantly to repair, in his best arms and
accoutrements, to the place of rendezvous. He who failed to appear
suffered the extremities of fire and sword, which were emblematically
denounced by the signal itself. During the civil war of 1745, the fiery
cross often made its circuit in Scotland ; and upon one occasion, it
passed through the whole district of Breadalbaue, a tract of thirty- two
miles, in three houi's. This practice was in vogue among nearly all the
ancient Scandinavian nations.
236 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
ment of the factious ; and his Scottish courtiers daily
boasted that they should learn, from their correspond-
ents, that all was quiet, or nearly so/ Indignant at
the powerlessness of his will, he resolved to have re-
course to force ; but no means of coercion were in readi-
ness : it was therefore necessary to gain time. The
Marquis of Hamilton was sent to Scotland, with orders
to flatter the rebels with some slight hopes, but neither
to pledge the King's word, nor come to any definite
arrangement. Twenty thousand Covenanters, who
had assembled at Edinburgh for a solemn fast, went
out to meet Hamilton ; seven hundred ministers, in
their Geneva cloaks, were standing on an eminence by
the road-side, singing a psalm as he passed.^ The
party were desirous of giving the Marquis an exalted
idea of their strength; and Hamilton, as much with a
view to save his own credit with his nation as to obey
the instructions of his sovereign, was incHned to treat
them with respect. But the concessions which he
offered were judged insufficient and delusive : a royal
Covenant, wliich he attempted to substitute for the
popular one, was rejected with derision. After much
useless parley, and several journeys between Edinburgh
and London, he suddenly received orders from the King
to grant all the demands of the insurgents, — the aboli-
tion of the canons, the hturgy, and the Court of High
Commission ; and to promise them an Assembly of
the Kirk and a Parliament, at which all questions
should be freely discussed, and in which the bishops
' Clarendon's Histoi-y of the llebellion, vol. i., p. 193.
'^ May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 40.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 237
might even be impeached. The Scotch rejoiced, but
their joy was mingled with surprise ; and their dis-
trust was increased when they noticed the care taken
to remove all pretext for the continuance of their con-
federation. The General Assembly met at Glasgow :
but it soon perceived that Hamilton's only object was to
trammel its proceedings, and to introduce nullifying
clauses into its acts. Such were, in fact, the instruc-
tions which he had received from the King.^ The
Assembly, however, continued its work, and was about
to bring the bishops to trial when Hamilton suddenly
pronounced its dissolution. At the same moment,
news arrived that Charles was preparing for war, and
that a body of troops, levied in Ireland by the exer-
tions of Strafibrd, was on the point of embarking for
Scotland.''' Hamilton returned to London ; but the
Assembly refused to separate, pursued its deliberations,
condemned all the royal innovations, maintained the
Covenant, and abohshed episcopacy. Several noblemen
who had until then remained aloof, among others the
Earl of Argyle, a man of great influence and renowned
for his prudence, openly embraced the national cause :
Scottish traders crossed the sea to purchase arms and
ammunition ; the Covenant was sent to the Scottish
troops who were serving on the Continent : and one of
their best officers, Alexander Lesley, was invited to
return to Scotland, to take the command of the insur-
gents in case of need. Finally, in the name of the
Scottish people, a declaration was addressed to the
* See Appendix V.
2 Strafford's Letters, vol. ii., pp. 233, 278, 279.
238
HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
people of England, to acquaint them with the just
grievances of their brethren in Christ, and to repel the
calumnies with which then- common enemies sought
to discredit their cause.
The Court received this declaration with ridicule ;
the insolence of the insurgents was mentioned with
contempt ; and many complaints were made of the
annoyance of having to fight them, — for what glory or
advantage could accrue from a war with a nation so
poor, uncultivated, and obscure ? ^ Although a Scotch-
man himself, Charles hoped that the inveterate hatred
and contempt of the English for Scotland would neu-
tralize the effect of the complaints of the Covenanters
upon the public mind. But when nations are united
by religious faith, the territorial boundaries which
separate them become speedily effaced. In the cause
of the Scottish Covenanters, the English malcontents
easily recognized their own cause, ■ Secret communica-
tions were rapidly established between the two king-
doms. The declarations of the insurgents were dis-
tributed in every dii-ection ; their grievances, their
proceedings, and their hopes, became the topic of
popular conversations ; in a short time, they had gained
friends and agents in London, in all the counties, in
the army, and even at Court. As soon as it was be-
lieved that they were firmly resolved to resist, and
that public opinion in England appeared to lend them
its support, there were not wanting Scottish, and even
English, courtiers who, to injure some rival, or to
revenge some slight, or to be prepared for all con-
' May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 46.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 239
tingencies, hastened secretly to render them good ser-
vice, sometimes by sending them useful information,
sometimes by exaggerating their numbers, extolling
their discipline, and affecting great anxiety on the
King's account because of difficulties or dangers which
a little complaisance would easily remove. The royal
army which was marching towards Scotland was met
on its route by a thousand reports calculated to mti-
midate or discourage it ; the general, the Earl of Essex,
was advised to be on his guard, to waft for reinforce-
ments ; the enemy, it was said, were far superior to him
in numbers : they had been seen at such-and-such a
place, near the border; they occupied every strong-
hold ; even Berwick would be in their hands before he
could arrive there. The Earl, a strict and faithful
officer, though but little favourable to the designs of
the Court, continued his march, entered Berwick with-
out obstacle, and soon ascertained that the troops of
the insurgents were neither so numerous nor so well
prepared as had been stated. But these reports, as
eagerly received as they were assiduously diffused, did
not the less disturb all minds. ^ The distm-bance in-
creased when the King arrived at York. He repaired
tliither with extraordinary pomp, still infatuated with
ideas of the irresistible ascendancy of the royal majesty,
and flattering himself that he would only need to dis-
play it, to make the rebels return to their duty. As
if to counterbalance that international appeal which
Scotland had made to England, he addressed, on his
side, an appeal to the nobility of his realm, summoning
» Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i., p. 204.
240 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
them, according to feudal usage, to render liim, on this
occasion, the service which he was entitled to claim.
The lords and a host of gentlemen flocked to York as
to a festival. The city and camp presented the ap-
pearance of a court and tournament, but by no means
of an army and a war. The vanity of Charles was
delighted by all this display ; but intrigue, disorder,
and want of discipline prevailed around him.^ The
Scots on the border were in familiar intercourse with
his soldiers. He wished to exact from the lords an
oath that, on no pretext whatever, they would have
any communication with the rebels. Lord Brook and
Lord Say refused to take the oath, and Charles dared
do no more than order them to leave his Court. Lord
Holland entered the Scottish territory; but at sight
of a body of troops which Lesley had skilfully dis-
posed, and which the Earl, without reconnoitring very
carefully, considered more numerous than his own, he
precipitately retreated.^ General and soldiers, all
hesitated to engage in so unpopular a war. The Scotch,
who were minutely informed of this state of things,
turned it to their advantage. They wrote to the
leaders of the army, to Lord Essex, Lord Arundel,
and Lord Holland, in modest and flattering terms,
expressing their entire confidence in the good feeling
of the lords and people of England, and entreating
them to intercede with the King to do them justice
and restore them to his favour.^ Ere long, sure of
1 Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i., p. 206.
^ Eushworth, part ii., vol. ii., p. 935.
* Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i., p. 208.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 241
being well supported, they addressed the King himself,
with humble respect, though without abandoning any
of their pretensions.^ Charles was embarrassed: and
his natural sluggishness of disposition made him as
prompt to tire of obstacles as he was careless to pre-
vent them. Conferences were opened.^ The King
was haughty, but anxious to end the matter : the
Scots were obstinate, but not insolent. The pride of
Charles was satisfied with their humility of speech ;
and on the 18th of June, 1G39, by the advice of Laud
himself, who was troubled, it is said, at the approach
of danger, a pacification was concluded at Berwick, by
the terms of which both armies were to be disbanded,
and an Assembly and Scottish Parliament to be speedily
convoked ; but no clear and precise treaty was made
to terminate those differences which had given rise to
the war.
The war, however, was only deferred, and of this
both parties were equally conscious. The Scots, on
dismissing their troops, kept the officers on half-pay,
and directed them to liold themselves in constant
readiness to resume active operations.^ Charles, on
his part, had scarcely disbanded his army before he
began secretly to levy another. A month after the
pacification, he summoned Strafibrd to London, to
consult him, he said, regarding some military plans ;
and he added, " I have much more, and indeed too
much, cause to desire your counsel and attendance for
some time ; which I think not fit to express by letter,
' Kushworth, vol. ii., part 2, p. 932. ^ Ibid., p. 940.
^ Whitelocke's Memorials, p. 30.
VOL. I. R
242 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
more than this, the Scots Covenant begins to spread
too far."^ Strafford hastened to obey the summons.
It had long been his most ardent desire to be employed
at his master's side, the only post at which his ambi-
tion could hope to achieve sufficient power and glory.
He returned, resolved to display all his energy against
the adversaries of the Crown, speaking of the Scots
with profound contempt, asserting that irresolution
alone had caused failure hitherto, and yet manifesting
so much confidence in the King's firmness that he
anticipated to find in it irresistible support. He found
the Court agitated by petty intrigues : the Earl of Essex
had been treated with coolness, notwithstanding his ex-
cellent conduct during the late campaign, and had retired
in dudgeon ; the officers mutually accused each other of
incapacity or weakness ; the Queen's favourites eagerly
profited by the general embarrassment to push their
fortunes and ruin their rivals ; the King was melan-
choly and despondent.^ Strafford soon felt himself ill
at ease, and unable to obtain the adoption of all the
measures which he judged necessary, or even to secure
the accomplishment of those which had been adopted.
The intrigues of the courtiers were turned against him.
He was unable to prevent the elevation of one of his
personal enemies, Sir Harry Vane, to the rank of
Secretary of State, by the Queen's influence.^ The
public, who had watched his arrival with anxiety,
uncertain of the use which he would make of his
' Strafford's Letters, vol. ii., pp. 281, 372.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i., p. 221.
^ Ibid., vol. i., pp. 221-223.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 243
influence, were not long in learning that he advocated
the most stringent measures, and pursued him with
their maledictions/ Meanwhile, the danger became
pressing. A dispute had arisen between the King and
the Scots as to the tenor of the treaty of Berwick, of
which scarcely any part had been committed to writing,
and Charles ordered the burning, by the common
hangman, of a paper which, according to the Cove-
nanters, expressed its true conditions ; but he was
careful to pubhsh nothing himself in disproof of their
statement, for, during the negociations, he had allowed
them to hope for much that he had no intention of
performing.^ Irritated at this breach of faith, and
exhorted by their friends in England to trust to no
royal professions, the Assembly and Parhament of Scot-
land, far from abandoning any of their pretensions, put
forward new and still bolder claims. The Parliament
demanded that the King should be bound to (convoke
it once in every three years, and that the independence
of elections and debates should be secured, in order that
political Hberty, firmly guaranteed, might watch over
the maintenance of the faith.^ The phrases, " encroach-
ment on prerogative," " invaded sovereignty," and so
forth, now resounded more loudly than ever at Court and
in Council. " Were they right served," said Straflbrd,
" these fellows should be whipped home into their right
wits."* War was resolved upon. But how was it to
' May's History of the Loug Parliament, p. 53.
^ Ibid., p. 52 ; Clareudon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i., p. 223 ;
Rushworth, vol. ii., part 2, p. 965 ; Whitelocke, p. 31.
^ Rushworth, vol. ii., part 2, pp. 992-1015.
* Strafford's Letters, vol. ii., pp. 138, 158.
R 2
244 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
be supported? Wliat new and plausible motives
could be given for it to the nation ? The public
treasury was empty, the King's private purse was
exhausted, and public opinion was already powerful
enough to render it expedient, if not to follow its
advice, at least to consult it. The desired pretext soon
presented itself. Ever since the commencement of the
troubles, Cardinal Richeheu, who was dissatisfied with
the English Court, at which Spanish influence pre-
vailed, had been in communication with the Scots ; he
maintained an agent among them, had sent them sup-
plies of money and arms, and had promised them more
effectual assistance in case of need. A letter of the
principal leaders of the Covenanters was intercepted,
addressed, Au Roy, and evidently intended for the
King of Erance, whose support they sohcited.^
Charles and his Council did not doubt that this appeal
to a foreign prince, as it was high treason in the sight
of the law, would inspire all England with an indigna-
tion equal to their own ; it was enougli, they thought,
to convince all minds of the legitimacy of the war. In
this confidence, which served to veil the stern pressure
of necessity, the convocation of a Parliament was deter-
mined on ; and in the meantime, Strafford returned to
Ireland, to obtain subsidies and soldiers from the Par-
liament of that kingdom also.
' Clarendon's History of the Eebellion, vol. i., p. 228 ; Whitelocke,
p. 32. Sec in particular the documents published on this subject by
M. Mazure, in the Appendix to his Histoire de la Revolution de 1688,
vol. iii., p. 402. They prove conclusively, in opposition to Hume,
Laing, and Brodie, that this letter of the Scottish leaders was really sent
to the King of France, and reached him, although Charles succeeded in
intercepting a co[)y of it.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 245
At the news that a Parliament was convoked, Eng-
land was astonished : it had ceased to hope for reform
by legal means, and yet that was the only kind of re-
form it had ever contemplated. However great its
discontent may have been, all violent designs were
foreign to the ideas of the nation. The sectaries, the
populace in some places, and a few men who were
already compromised as leaders of nascent parties,
alone nourished darker passions and more extended
plans. The public had approved and sustained them
in their resistance, but without associating itself with
their other projects — without even supposing that they
entertained them. Long reverses had led many good
citizens to doubt, if not the legitimacy, at least the
expediency, of the ardour and obstinacy of recent Par-
liaments. They called to mind, without blame, but
with regret, the harshness of their language, and the
violence of the scenes which had agitated them ; and
they determined to use greater prudence in future.
Under the influence of this general feeling, the elec-
tions returned a House of Commons opposed to the
Coui-t, determined to redress public grievances, and
containing all the men whose opposition had made
them popular, but composed for the most part of
peaceable citizens, free from all party pledges, dis-
trustful of political passions, secret combinations, and
precipitate resolutions, and flattering themselves that
they would reform all abuses, without either aHenating
the King, or endangering the peace of the country.
After a rather long delay, which occasioned some
displeasure, the Parliament met. Charles directed the
246 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
letter of the Scots to the King of France to be read to
them, enlarged upon the treasonable character of such
correspondence, announced liis intention to declare war,
and demanded subsidies. The House of Commons
paid very httle attention to the letter, and appeared to
regard it as an miimportant incident in comparison
with the great interests regarding which they had to
treat/ The King took offence at the backwardness of
the House in resenting this affront ; and the House,
on their side, complained of a certain want of respect
and etiquette in the treatment of their Speaker, on the
occasion of his presentation to the King.- The Coui-t,
after passing eleven years without a Parliament, found
it difficult to lay aside its disdainful levity ; and not-
withstanding its pacific intentions, the House, on
assuming its session at Westminster, had very justly
assumed the dignity of a public power, wliich, after
eleven years of neglect, had been recalled from motives
of necessity. The difference ere long became more
serious. The King desired that the House should vote
subsidies before proceeding to an investigation of griev-
ances, promising to allow it to sit afterwards, and to
listen favourably to its representations. Long dis-
cussions arose on this point ; but they were unaccom-
panied with violence, although the sittings of the
House were attended with zealous assiduity, and pro-
longed to a much later period than usual.^ A few
bitter words, wliich escaped from some comparatively
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii., cols. 534, 542,
* Ibid., cols. 535, 542.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii., p. 23b.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 247
unknown members, were instantly repressed, and the
speeches of several servants of the Crown, who were
esteemed for their private virtues, met with a favour-
able reception.^ But the House manifested a firm
resolution to discuss the grievances of the nation before
granting any subsidies. In vain was it told that the
war was pressing : it cared little about the war,
although, out of respect for the King, it did not
openly say so. Charles had recourse to the inter-
vention of the House of Peers. They voted that, in
their opinion, the grant of subsidies should precede
the discussion of grievances, and proposed a conference
with the Commons to exhort them to adopt this course
of proceeding.^ The Commons agreed to the conference,
but voted in their turn, on their return to their House,
that the resolution of the Peers was a breach of privi-
lege, as they had no right to discuss the question of
subsidies until it had been settled in the Commons.^
The party leaders, Pym, Hampden, and St. John,
availed themselves of this incident to irritate the
House, whose intentions were more moderate than
was consistent with either its principles or its position.
It became agitated and impatient, restraining its
strength, but determined to maintain its right. Time
passed on ; the King was brought to believe that
tliis Parliament would be as untractable as its pre-
decessors. Already irritated, he sent a message to the
House, that if it would grant him twelve subsidies,
' Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i., p. 237.
^ Parliamentary History, vol. ii., col. 560 ; Clarendon, vol. i., p. 238.
' Clarendon, vol. i., p. 238; Parliamentary History, vol. ii., col. 563.
248 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
payable in three years, he would pledge himself never
again to levy ship-money without the consent of Par-
liament.' The sum appeared enormous: it was more,
it was said, than all the money in the kingdom. Be-
sides, it was not enough that the King should give up
levying ship-money : it was necessary that the ille-
gality of that tax should be declared as a principle,
both retrospectively and prospectively. However, the
House did not wish to break with the King : it was
shown that the value of the twelve subsidies did not
amount to anything like the sum which had at first
been mentioned ; and notwithstanding its repugnance
to suspend the examination of national grievances, to
prove its loyalty it took the message into consider-
tion. It was on the point of deciding that subsidies
should be granted, without fixmg the amount, when
Sir Harry Vane, the Secretary of State, rose and said
that, unless the entire message were admitted, it was
not worth while to dehberate, for the King would
accept nothing less than that which he had demanded.
Herbert, the Solicitor-Greneral, confirmed Vane's state-
ment.^ Surprise and anger took possession of the
House ; even the most moderate were struck with con-
sternation. It was late ; and the debate was adjom-ned
to the following day. But on that day, at the moment
when the Commons were about to assemble, the King
summoned them to the Upper House, and, three weeks
after its convocation, the Parliament was dissolved.
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii., cols. 570, 571 ; Clareudon's History
of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 239.
* Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i., p. 239.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 249
An hour after tlie dissolution, Edward Hyde/ after-
wards Earl of Clarendon, met St. John, a friend of
Hampden, and one of the leaders of the Opposition
party. Hyde was melancholy : St. John, on the con-
trary, though " he had naturally a great cloud in his
face, and was very seldom known to smile," then wore a
most cheerful aspect. He asked Hyde, " What
troubled him ?" Hyde answered, " That the same
that troubled him, he believed, troubled most good
men; that in such a time of confasion, so wise a
Parliament, which alone could have fomid remedy for
it, was so unseasonably dismissed." St. John replied,
" That all was well ; and that it must be worse before
it could be better ; and that that Parliament could
never have done what was necessary to be done."^
On the evening of the same day, Charles was filled
with regret ; the disposition of the House had, he said,
been falsely represented to him, and Vane had never
been authorized by him to state that, unless the twelve
subsidies were granted, he would accept nothing. On
the following day also, his anxiety continued ; and,
calling together a few sensible men, he inquired of
them whether the dissolution might not be revoked.
This measure was deemed impossible : and Charles re-
turned to a despotic course, a Httle more anxious, but
just as reckless and haughty as he had been before his
attempt to abandon it.^
The urgency of the crisis seemed to restore some
' Bom on the 16tli of February, 1608, at Dinton, in Wiltshire.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 246.
^ Ibid., vol. i., p. 247.
250 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
energy to his ministers, and some success to his mea-
sures. Strafford had returned from Ireland, suffering
from a violent attack of gout, threatened with a pleu-
risy, and utterly unable to move.^ But he had obtained
from the Irish Parliament all that he had demanded,
subsidies, soldiers, offers, and promises ; and as soon as
he was able to leave his bed, he set to work again with
liis accustomed vigour and devotedness. In less than
three weeks, voluntary contributions, suggested by his
example, poured into the Exchequer more than three
hundred thousand pounds sterling ; the greater part of
which sum was furnished by the Papists.^ To this
were added all the vexatious means then in use for
raising money, such as forced loans, ship-money, and
the sale of monopohes : the issue of base coin was even
suggested.^ In the eyes of the King and his servants,
necessity excused everything; but necessity is never
the limit of tyranny. Charles now recommenced his
useless habits of persecution and vengeance against
unruly members of Parliament ; Sir Henry Bellasis
and Sir John Hotham were imprisoned for their free-
dom of speech ; the house and papers of Lord Brooke
were searched ; and Mr. Carew was sent to the Tower
for having refused to give up the petitions which he
had received during the session, as chairman of the
Committee appointed to examine them."* All the
* Strafford's Letters, vol. ii., p. 403.
* Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii., p. 290,
^ May's History of the Long Parhament, p. 62 ; Whitelocke's Me-
morials, p. 34.
* Parliamentary History, vol. ii., col. 584 ; Rushworth, vol. ii., part 2,
p. 1196.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 251
clergy were required to swear that they would never
consent to any alteration in the government of the
Church; and tliis oath terminated by an &c., which
occasioned many a smile of distrust and indignation.^
Never had the language of the Court been more harsh
and arrogant : some gentlemen of Yorkshire had re-
fused to comply with an arbitrary requisition; the
Council proposed to prosecute them : "I cannot sufii-
ciently wonder," said Strafford, " that my Lords should
think of any other satisfaction than sending for them
up, and laying them by the heels."^ He knew the
extent of the evil better than any one ; but passion in
him stifled alike all prudence and all fear : it seemed
as though he were striving to communicate to the
King, the Council, and the Court, that feverish energy
which renders man blind both to liis strength and to
his danger. He fell ill again, and was on the very
point of death ; but liis bodily weakness only served to
increase the violence of his counsels ; and though
scarcely able to stand, he set out with the King to
join the army which had already been collected on the
borders of Scotland, and of which he was to take the
command.
On his way, he learned that the Scots, taking the
offensive, had entered England; and, on arriving at
York, he found that they had defeated at Newburn,
almost without resistance, the first English troops that
• The test of this paragraph is as follows : " I do swear .... that
I will never give my consent to alter the government of this Church, by
archbishops, bishops, deans, and archdeacons, &c." NeaPs History of
the Puritans, vol. ii., p. 302 ; Rushworth, vol. ii., part 2, p. 118G.
^ Strafford's Letters, vol. ii., p. 409.
252 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
had fallen in their way. Neither of these occurrences
had been brought to pass by the Scots alone. During
the pacification, their commissioners in London had
contracted an intimate alliance with the leaders of the
disaifected, who had advised them, if the war should
recommence, to invade England suddenly, and had pro-
mised them the support of a numerous party. A mes-
senger was even sent into Scotland, bearing in a hollow
staff an engagement, at the foot of which, to inspire the
Scots with greater confidence, Lord Saville, the only
avowed leader of the plot, had counterfeited the signa-
tures of six of the most powerful English nobles. A
passionate hatred of Strafford had alone instigated Lord
Saville, a man of very contemptible character, to engage
in this audacious intrigue ; but there is every reason to
believe that more influential and sincere patriots had
also taken part in it.' They were under no mistake as
to the disposition of the people. Scarcely was the
Parliament dissolved, before the general aversion to
the war with Scotland was publicly manifested. In
London, placards roused the apprentices to rise and
tear in pieces Archbishop Laud, the author of so many
evils. A furious band attacked his palace, and he was
obliged to fly for refuge to Whitehall. St. Paul's
Cathedral, where the Court of High Commission held
its sittings, was forced by another band, with shouts
of " No bishops ! no High Commission !"^ In the
counties, violence alone could procure recruits for the
' Burnet's History of his Own Time, vol. i. pp. 48, 49 ; Whitelocke's
Memorials, p. 32 ; Hai'dwicke, State Papers, vol. ii. p. 187.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 252 ; Wlutelockc,
p. 34.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 253
royal army. To escape enlistment, many maimed
themselves, and some even committed suicide ;' those
who obeyed unresistingly were insulted in the streets,
and treated as cowards by their families and friends.
On joining their regiments, they found the same
feelings as they had brought. Several officers, sus-
pected of Popery, were killed by their soldiers.^ Wlien
the army came up with the Scots, the insubordination
and murmuring increased ; they saw the Covenant
written on their banners, and floating in the air ;
they heard the drum calling the troops to divine
worship, and the camp resounding, at sunrise, with
singing and prayer. At this sight, and on hearing
the accounts of the pious ardour and friendly feelings
of the Scots towards the Enghsli people, they were
moved by turns with sorrow and indignation, cursed
the impious war, and felt themselves ah*eady con-
quered, for they believed they were fighting against
their brethren and their God.^ On reacliing the
banks of the Tyne, the Scots, without any demon-
strations of hostility, requested permission to cross
the river. An English sentinel fired, a few cannon
answered the signal, a slight action ensued, the
English army dispersed, and Strafford took command
of it only to fall back upon York ; leaving the Scots
to occupy, unopposed, the country and towns which
lay between that city and the frontiers of the two
kingdoms.*
' Strafford's Letters, voL ii. p. 351.
^ Rushworth, vol. ii. jmrt 2, pp. 1191-119.5.
^ Heylin's Life of Laud, p. 454.
■* Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. pp. 254 — 256 ; Rush-
worth, vol. ii. part ii. p. 1236.
254 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
From this time forth, Strafford himself was con-
quered. In vain did he endeavour, sometimes by
kindness and sometimes by threats, to inspire the
troops with other feehngs; his advances to the
officers were constrained, and ill concealed his con-
tempt or anger, whilst his severities irritated, but did
not intimidate, the soldiers. Petitions soon arrived
from several counties to beseech the King to make
peace. The Lords Howard and Wharton ventured to
present one : Strafford had them arrested, convoked a
council of war, and proposed that they should be shot
in presence of the army as abettors of the revolt.
The council remained silent, but at length Hamilton
asked Strafford if he was sure of the army. As if
struck by a sudden revelation, Strafford turned away
his head, and made no answer.' Nevertheless, his
indomitable pride still sustained his hopes : " If I
may have the countenance and trust of my master,"
he wrote, "I hope to contain the Scottish here in
their due obedience, or if they should stir, to give
them such a heat in their clothes, as they never had
since their coming forth of Scotland. "^ But Charles, in
fact, avoided him already, dreading the energy of his
counsels. That unhappy prince had fallen into a
state of profound despondency ; every day brought
him some fresh proof of his impotence ; money was
wanting, and no successful means of levying it re-
mained : the soldiers mutinied or deserted in troops :
the people were everywhere in agitation, impatient for
the catastrophe which they felt was imminent : cor-
' Burnet's History of his Owu Time, vol. i. p. 51.
'' Strafford Papers, vol. ii. pp. 325—328.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 255
respondence with the Scots was carried on around the
King's person, in his camp, and even in his very
household. The Scots, still prudent in their actions
and humble in their language, conducted themselves
with moderation in the counties which they had
invaded, loaded their prisoners with attentions, and
renewed on every opportunity their protestations of
pacific designs, and of fidelity and devotion to the
King ; sure of victory, they demanded only such a
peace as could not fail to ratify it. With the word
peace, that of Parliament began to be united. At this
dreaded name, Charles, seized with fear, determined,
by whose advice is not known, to convoke at York the
great council of peers of the realm, ^ a feudal assembly
which had fallen into desuetude for four centuries, but
which formerly, in the days when the Commons were
weak, had often alone shared the sovereign power.
Without correctly understanding what this assembly
was, or what it might prove, it was hoped that it
would manifest greater complaisance and regard
for the King's honour : and the question was mooted
whether it would not be possible for it to vote
subsidies without the interference of the Commons.^
But before this great council met, two petitions, one
from the city of London,^ and the other signed by
twelve peers eminent for their rank and influence/
' Eushworth, vol. ii. part ii. p. 1257.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 200.
^ Riishwortli, vol. ii. part ii. p. 1263.
■* Ibid, p. 1260; the twelve peers were Lords Essex, Bedford, Hert-
ford, Warwick, Bristol, Mulgrave, Say and Seal, Howard, Bolingbroke,
Maudeville, Brooke, and Paget.
256 HISTORY OP CHARLES THE FIRST
solicited, in express terms, the convocation of a
constitutional Parliament. This was enouo-h to
overcome the resistance of a King who was no longer
able to do anything. In the midst of these un-
certainties, Strafford, to satisfy his resentment as much
as to justify the wisdom of his advice, had attacked
the Scots, and gained some advantage over them ; he
was blamed for having compromised the King by this
conduct, and received orders to remain quiet in his
quarters.^ The peers met, Charles announced to
them his intention to convoke a Parliament, and
merely requested their advice in treating with the
Scots." Negociations were opened. Sixteen peers,^ all
inclined to the popular party, were appointed to
conduct them. It was at first stipulated that the two
armies should remain on foot, and that the King
should pay the Scottish troops as well as his own. A
loan of two hundred thousand pounds was requested
of the city of London for this purpose, and the peers
pledged themselves, as well as the Kmg, that it should
be properly expended.* After having signed the
preliminary articles at Eipon, Charles, anxious to find
' Clarendon's History of the Eebellion, vol. i. p. 280. Lingard and
Brodie deny this fact, in reliance on inductions from contemporary
official documents ; but their reasons do not appear to me sufficient to
rebut the testimony of Clarendon, whose narrative is formal and cir-
cumstantial, and who had no motive for disguising the truth in this
particular.
* Kush worth, vol. ii. part ii. p. 1275.
'■' The Lords Bedford, Hertford, Essex, Salisbury, Warwick, Bristol,
Holland, Berkshire, Mandeville, Wharton, Paget, Brooke, Pawlet, Howard,
Saville, and Dunsmoro.
'' Kushworth, vol. ii. part ii. p. 1279.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 257
rest in the Queen's society, from all these causes of
embarrassment and disgust, transferred the negociation
to London,^ where the Parliament was about to meet.
The Scottish Commissioners repaired thither with
alacrity, certain of finding powerful allies. The
elections were in progress throughout England : the
nation engaged in them with the utmost ardour ; the
Court, melancholy and dispirited, attempted in vain to
exercise some influence over them ; its candidates were
feebly sustained, and were almost everywhere rejected;
it could not even succeed in procuring the election of
Sir Thomas Gardiner, whom the King wished to have
for Speaker.^ The meeting of Parhament was fixed
for the 3rd of November. Many persons advised
Laud to choose another day : that, they said, was a
day of evil omen ; for, under Henry VIII., the Par-
hament which met on that* day had begim by the ruin
of Cardinal Wolsey, and ended by the destruction of
the monasteries.^ Laud disregarded these presages,
not from confidence, but as if tired of the contest, and
abandoning himself, as well as his master, to the
chances of a future, which all, whether victors or
vanquished, were equally far from foreseeing.
' Rusliworth, vol. ii. part ii. pp. 1286 — 1305.
* Clareudou'a History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 296 ; Whiteloote
p. 36.
^ Whitelocke's Memorials, p. 36.
VOL. I.
258 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
BOOK III.
OPENING OF PARLIAMENT — ITS ASSUMPTION OF POWER — STATE OF POLI-
TICAL AND KELIGIOUS PARTIES — CONCESSIONS MADE BY THE KINO
NEGOTIATIONS BETWEEN THE KING AND THE PARLIAMENTARY LEADERS
— CONSPIRACY IN THE ARMY — TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF STRAFFORD —
THE king's JOURNEY TO SCOTLAND — INSURRECTION IN IRELAND —
DEBATE ON THE REMONSTRANCE — THE KING'S RETURN TO LONDON
PROGRESS OF THE REVOLUTION — RIOTS — AFFAIR OF THE FIVE MEM-
BERS — THE KING LEAVES LONDON — DEPARTURE OF THE QUEEN TO THE
CONTINENT — AFFAIR OF THE MILITIA — NEGOTIATIONS — THE KING TAKES
UP HIS RESIDENCE AT YORK — BOTH PARTIES PREPARE FOR WAR — THE
KING IS REFUSED ADMISSION INTO HULL — VAIN ATTEMPTS AT RECON-
CILIATION — FORMATION OF THE TWO ARMIES.
On the day appointed, the King opened Parliament.
He proceeded to Westminster without pomp, almost
without retinue, not on horseback and along the
streets, as was customary, but by the Thames, in a
plain barge, avoiding the public gaze, like a captive
following the triumph of his conqueror. His speecli
was vague and embarrassed. He promised the redress
of all grievances, but persisted in calling the Scots
rebels, and demanding their expulsion from the king-
dom, as if the war were still unfinished. The House
of Commons listened to him with cold respect. Never,
at the opening of a session, had it appeared so nume-
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 259
reus ; never had the countenances of its members worn
so proud an aspect in presence of their sovereign.'
No sooner had the King left the House, than his
servants, who were but few in number, quickly per-
ceived, from the tone of the conversations of the
various groups of members, that the public irritation
far exceeded their utmost apprehensions. The disso-
lution of the last Parliament had exasperated even the
most moderate men. None now spoke of conciliation
or compromise. The time had come, it was said,
for putting forth the whole power of the House, and
uprooting all abuses so effectually, that there would be
no fear of their springing up again. Thus, with
strength very unequal, plans equally aspiring found
themselves in presence. For eleven years, the King
and the Church had proclaimed their absolute and
independent sovereignty by divine right; they had
made every effort to induce the nation to acquiesce in
it, voluntarily or otherwise. Unable to succeed in
their purpose, and yet still professing the same maxims,
they had come, in their impotence, to seek assistance
from an assembly, which, without setting it up as a
principle, or ostentatiously displaying it, had also a
firm belief in its own sovereignty, and felt itself
capable of exercising it.
It began by a clear exposition of all its grievances.
Each member arrived with a petition from his town
or county, which he read to the House, and then,
taking it at once as the text of a speech, proposed that
' Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. pp. 295 — 298 ; Parlia-
mentary History, vol. ii. col. 629.
s 2
260 HISTORY or CHAKLES THE FIRST
the House, until more effectual lueasures could be
adopted, should at least vote that the complaints were
legitimate.^ Thus, in a few days, the opinion of every
part of the country was made known. Thus were
rapidly recapitulated and condemned, all the acts of
tyranny from which the nation suffered — monopolies,
ship-money, arbitrary arrests, the usurpations of the
bishops, the proceedings of the exceptional courts.
No opposition was made to these resolutions -^ and,
such was the unanimity of feeling on the subject, that
many of them were adopted on the motion of men,
who soon after became the most intimate confidants of
the King.^
Lest these means should be insufficient to bring all
abuses to light, more than forty committees were
appointed to inquire into existing grievances, and
receive the complaints of the people.^ Day after day^
townsmen and farmers came to London on horseback,
and in bands, bringing petitions from their town or
district.^ Such accusations were everywhere encouraged
and invited ; they resounded from the pulpit, and
in all places of public resort ; they were eagerly
received, whatever might be the source from whence
they proceeded, or the form in which they were con-
veyed ; and they were admitted wdth equal confidence
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 640 — 666 ; Clarendon's History
of the Eebellion, vol. i. p. 316 ; Rushworth, part ii. vol. i. p. 21.
''■ Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 672.
^ Sir John Colepepper, Lord Falkland, Lord Digby, and others.
■* Rushworth, part ii. vol. i. p. 28 ; Neal's History of the Puritans,
vol. ii. p. 318.
' Whitelocke's Memorials, p. 38.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 201
whether tliey arraigned tlie entire government in
general terms, or mentioned individuals by name to
demand their immediate punishment. The power of
the committees was unlimited ; none had the right
to oppose them even by silence, and the members of
the Privy Council itself were bound to answer their
inquiries as to the proceedings of that body.^
With this reprobation of acts was combined the
general proscription of their authors. Every agent of
the crown, whatever his rank, who had taken part
in the execution of objectionable measures, was stig-
matised by the name of Delinquent.'^ In every county
a list of these delinquents was drawn up. No uniform
and definitive punishment was enacted against them ;
but they might, at any time, at the pleasure of the
House, on the slightest pretext of increased disfavour,
be called to the bar of the House, and punished by
fines, imprisonment, or confiscation.
In examining the elections of its own members, the
House declared all who had taken part in any monopoly
to be unworthy of a seat in Parliament. Four members
were excluded on this ground. Many others were
disqualified on some pretext of irregularity, but really
without any legal motive, and merely because their
opinions were distrusted. Two of the most notorious
monopohsts. Sir Henry Mildmay and Mr. Whitaker,
were admitted without difficulty ; for they had sworn
allegiance to the new power.^
' Clarendon's Histoiy of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 314.
* Ibid., vol. i. p. 307.
^ Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 651, 656, 707 ; Clarendon's His-
tory of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 308.
262 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
At the appearance of this power — so immense, so
unexpected, and so resolute — terror seized on all the
servants of the crown, for each had to dread an accusa-
tion or an enemy. Por them, danger was everywhere
impending, and defence nowhere to be found. The
sole desire of the Court was to pass into obHvion ; the
King, under the mask of complete inaction, concealed
liis sorrow and anxiety ; the judges, trembling for
themselves, would not have dared to protect a delin-
quent ; the bishops beheld their innovations abolished
on every side, without attempting to oppose it ; John
Bancroft, Bishop of Oxford, died suddenly from vexa-
tion and fear.^ The Presbyterian preachers resumed,
without any legal title, their possession of livings and
pulpits ; all the dissenting sects publicly recommenced
their meetings ; pamphlets of every kind circulated
with full liberty ; royal and episcopal despotism,
though still existing unmutilated, with its ministers,
tribunals, laws and worsliip, was everywhere motionless
and impotent.'*
Strafford had foreseen this explosion, and besought
the King to excuse him from attending Parliament.
"He should not," he wrote, "be able to do his
Majesty any service there, but should rather be a
means to hinder his affairs ; in regard he foresaw that
the great envy and ill-will of the Parliament and of
the Scots would be bent against him. Whereas, if he
kept out of sight, he would not be so much in their
' Rapin's History of England, vol. ix. p. 21.
* Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 355 ; Neal's History
of the Puritans, vol. ii. pp. 320, 342.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 263
minds, as lie should be by showing himself in Parlia-
ment ; and if they should fall upon him, he being at a
distance, whatsoever they should conclude against him,
he might the better avoid, and retire from any danger ;
having the hberty of being out of their hands, and to
go to Ireland, or to some other place where he might
be most serviceable to his Majesty. But if he should
put himself into their power by coming up to the
Parliament, it was evident that the House of Commons
and the Scots, with all their party, would presently
fall upon him, and prosecute his destruction." The
King answered that " he could not do without his
advice in the great transactions wliich were like to be
in that Parliament ; and that, as he was King of
England, he was able to secure him from any danger,
and that the Parliament should not touch one hair of
his head."' Strafford still hesitated ; but, upon a second
invitation, braving the storm because he could not
avoid it, he set out for London, resolved himself to
accuse the principal leaders of the Commons before the
Upper House, and upon proofs recently obtained, of
having instigated and supported the Scottish invasion.
Aware of the blow which he intended to strike, P3rm
and his friends anticipated it. On the 9th of November,
Strafford arrived in London ; on the 1 0th, he was con-
fined to his bed by fatigue and fever ; on the 11th, the
House of Commons deliberated with closed doors, and,
' Whitelocke's Memorials, p. 37. One would almost suppose that
Dr. Lingard was not aware of this passage, for he says (History of Eng-
land, vol. X. p. 107) that Strafford's friends alone advised him not to
proceed to London, but that, for his own part, he did not hesitate a
moment.
264 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
on the motion of Pym, suddenly impeached the Earl
of high treason. Lord Falkland alone, although an
enemy of Strafford, said that some delay and prelimi-
nary inquiry seemed to him to be due both to the
gravity of the case and the dignity of the House. But
Pym answered that such a delay would probably blast
all their hopes, for when Strafford should learn that so
many of his enormities were discovered, his conscience
would dictate his condemnation ; and so great was his
power and credit, he would immediately procm^e the
dissolution of the ParHament. " Besides," he con-
tinued, " the Commons are not judges, but only
accusers ; and it is the province of the peers to deter-
mine whether such a complication of enormous crimes,
in one person, does not amount to the highest crime
known by the law." So saying, he left the House,
accompanied by a great number of members, to lay the
accusation before the House of Lords.'
Strafford was at that time with the King. On
hearing the news he hastened at once to the House,
where Pym had, however, preceded him. He found
the door shut, knocked loudly for admittance, and
angrily chid the usher, who hesitated to admit him ;
he was advancing up the hall to take his seat, when
numerous voices called to him to withdraw. The
Earl stopped, looked round him, and obeyed, after a
few moments' hesitation. He was recalled an hour
afterwards, and ordered to kneel at the bar ; and he
was then informed that the Lords had admitted his
' Btate Trials, vol. iii. col. 1.383 ; Clarendon's History of the Bebellion,
vol. i. J). 382.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 265
impeacliment, and decided, on the demand of the
Commons, that he should be committed to the Tower,
He attempted to speak, but the House refused to hear
him, and the order for his imprisonment was imme-
diately carried into execution.^
The impeachment of Strafford was almost imme-
diately succeeded by that of Laud, a man less dreaded,
but far more odious. A fanatic as sincere as stern,
his conscience reproached him with no crime, and he
was filled with astonishment at his prosecution. " Not
one man in the House of Commons," he said, " does
believe, in his heart, that I am a traitor." The Earl
of Essex sharply rebuked him for this language, as
insulting to the Commons, who had impeached him.
Laud apologised, in great surprise, and demanded to
be treated according to the ancient usage of Parlia-
ment. Lord Say expressed his indignation that he
should presume to dictate to them how they should
act. The Archbishop, in confusion, remained silent,
unable to comprehend any other passion than his own,
and forgetting that he had ever spoken in a similar
manner to his enemies.^
Two other ministers, the Lord Keeper Finch and
the Secretary of State Windebank, had been no less
active agents of the royal tyranny ; but the first, a
crafty courtier, had foreseen what was coming, and for
three months had applied himself, at his master's
expense, to gain the indulgence of the Opposition
leaders ; and the other, a man of weak character and
' State Trials, vol. iii. col. 1383. ' Ibid., vol. iv. col. 319.
266 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
mediocre talent, inspired neither fear nor hatred.
The House of Commons nevertheless impeached them,
but with no angry feeling, and merely in obedience to
the public demand. Windebank fled the country.
Lord Finch obtained permission to appear before the
House, and, in humble but graceful language, made a
formal apology. The Opposition party were pleased by
tliis, as the first homage paid by a minister to its
power : and he was allowed time to withdraw beyond
sea. Many of the members were astonished at so
unequal a distribution of justice ; but Pym and Hamp-
den, like able leaders, did not wish to discourage base-
ness on the part of their opponents.^ Accusations
were also brought against two bishops, several theolo-
gians, and six judges ; but Straflbrd's impeachment
was the only one prosecuted with any passionate
ardour. A Secret Committee, invested with immense
powers, was appointed to scrutinize his whole hfe, and
to search out evidence of high treason in his words
and actions ; nay, even in the counsels he had given,
whether the King had adopted them or not.^ A similar
Committee was formed in Ireland, to act as an auxi-
liary to that named by the House of Commons. The
Scots joined in the work by a virulent declaration, in
which they clearly intimated that their army would
not leave the kingdom until justice had been done on
their most cruel enemy. In the opinion of popular
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 686 ; Clarendon's History of the
Rebellion, vol. i. pp. 310 — 312; May's History of the Long Parliament,
pp. 83—86.
^ Clarendon's History of tlio Rebellion, vol. i. p. 336.
AND TUB ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 267
hatred and alarm, it did not seem too much that three
nations should be thus leagued together to crush a
captive.^
Thus delivered from their adversaries, and antici-
pating signal vengeance upon the only one they held
in dread, the Commons took possession of the govern-
ment. They voted subsidies, but of small amount,
and merely sufficient to supply the daily necessities of
the State.^ Commissioners selected from among their
number, and nominated by the bill itself, were alone
intrusted with the administration and employment
of these supphes. The custom duties, in hke manner,
were voted for two months only ; and renewed from
time to time.^ To meet the expenditure, revenues
more considerable in amount, and more quickly obtain-
able, were required. The House borrowed large sums,
but in its own name, and on the sole guarantee of its
promise, from its partizans in the City, and even from
its own members ; and thus pubHc credit originated.'*
The Eling urged the dismissal of both armies, especially
of the Scots, on the ground that their maintenance
was a heavy burden to the northern counties ; but
the House had need of them,* and felt itself justified
in imposing this charge on the people. " We cannot
yet spare the Scots," said Mr. Strode, plainly, in the
* Clarendon's History of the Eebellion, vol. i. p. 376. The trial of
Strafford forms the eighth volume of Rush worth's CoUectious, to which
I here refer, once for aU
* Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 701.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 364.
* Ibid., vol. i. p. 361.
* BaiUie's Letters, vol. i. p. 420.
268 iiisTor.T OF ciiart.es the first
House, " the sons of Zeruiah are still too strongs for
us." The King's suggestions were eluded ; and in
the division of the sums allowed for the payment of
the army, greater favour was shown to the Scottish
than to the English troops, whose officers did not all
inspire Parliament with the same confidence.^ Some
of them took offence at this ; but the House paid no
attention to their complaints. More than this, it voted
that the Scotch had lent the English brotherly assist-
ance, that they should thenceforward be called brethren,
and that a sum of thirty thousand pounds should
be bestowed on them, as an indemnity and reward for
their services. The negociations for a definitive peace
with Scotland were conducted far more really by a
Committee of Parliament than by the King's Privy
Council. The leaders of both Houses, especially those
of the Commons, dined together every day, at their
own expense, at Mr. Pym's house ; there they were
joined by the Scottish Commissioners, by the authors
of the principal petitions, and by the most important
men in the City; and there were discussed all the
affairs of both Houses and of the State. ^ Such was
the concentration of all powers in the Parliament,
that the advisers of the Crown, incapable o? afraid to
decide the slightest question on their own authority,
referred to it on all occasions, without giving it the
trouble to assert its right to be thus consulted. A
Catholic priest, named Goodman, had been condemned
to death ; the King, who did not dare to pardon him,
' Whitclocke, p. 4.'5. * Clarendon's Life, vol. i. p. 90.
AND THE ENCUSII REVOI>UTIO.V. 269
placed his life at the disposal of the Commons, as the
only means of saving him ; for, notwithstanding their
passionate enthusiasm, they manifested no desire to
shed blood. ^ The people had imbibed a strong dis-
like to the Queen's mother, Marie de Medicis, then a
refugee in London ; the mob daily surrounded her
house, and loaded her with insults and menaces. Ap-
plication was made to the Commons as to whether she
could remain in England, and what measures should
be taken for her protection. They replied that it
would be better for her to leave the country, and voted
ten thousand pounds for her travelling expenses ; and
their wish was at once complied with.^ The decrees
of the law courts, pronounced and executed long pre-
viously, fell under their jurisdiction, as did also the
private affairs of the King and his Court. The con-
demnation of Prynne, Burton, Bastwick, Leighton,
and Lilburne was declared illegal, and their hberation
from prison ordained,^ together with a large indem-
nity, which, however, they never received ; — the com-
mon fate of past merits, which are quickly effaced by
new deserts and new necessities. The public joy was
their sole recompense : at the news of their return, an
immense crowd went out to meet them; the streets
through which they passed, were hung with flags, and
strewed with branches of rosemary and laurel.'* Tlie
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 710, 713, 715; State Trials,
vol. iv. cols. 59—63.
^ Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 788, 793 ; May's History of the
Long Parliament, p. 107.
^ Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 639, 731.
* May's Histor}- of the Long Parliament, p. 80; Whitelocke, p. 39.
270 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
transports of the people, and the despondency of the
King, all combined to urge the Commons to assume to
themselves the reins of government, — all concurred to
elevate them to the supreme power.
Their first attempt at the reform of popular insti-
tutions proclaimed, if not their sovereignty, at least
their complete independence. A bill was brought
forward which prescribed the calling of a new Par-
liament, at least once in every three years. If the
king neglected to convoke it, twelve peers, assembled
at Westminster, might summon it without his con-
currence : and in default of this summons from the
peers, the sheriffs and municipal ofiicers were bound to
proceed to the elections. If the sheriffs did not dis-
charge their duty, the citizens had a right to assemble
and elect their representatives. No Parliament could
be dissolved or adjourned, without the consent of both
Houses, until fifty days after its meeting; and the
definitive choice of their Speakers was vested in the
Houses alone. ^ At the first mention of this biQ, the
King broke the silence which he had until then main-
tained. Summoning the two Houses to Whitehall,
he thus addressed them : " I like to have often Par-
liaments ; for I ingenuously confess that frequent Par-
liaments are the best means to preserve that right
understanding between me and my subjects, which I
so earnestly desire. But to give power to sheriffs and
constables, and I know not whom, to do my office —
that I cannot yield unto."~ In these words, the
' Rusliworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 189.
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols 710 — 712.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 271
Houses saw only a new motive for pressing the adop-
tion of the bill ; none dared counsel the King to refuse
it ; so he resigned himself to his fate, but thought it
due to his dignity to give full expression to his dis-
pleasure. ** I do not know," he said, " for what you
can ask that I can hereafter make any question to
yield unto you; therefore I mention this, to showmito
you the sense that I have of this bill, and the obhga-
tion, as I may say, that you have to me for it.
Hitherto, to speak freely, I have had no great en-
couragement to do it ; for you have gone on in that
which concerns yourselves to amend, and not those
things that merely concern the strength of this king-
dom, neither for the State, nor for my own particular.
You have taken the Government almost in pieces, and
I may say, it is almost off its hinges. A skilful
watchmaker, to make clean his watch, will take it
asunder, and when it is put together again, it will go
all the better, so that he leave not one pin of it. Now
as I have done all on my part, you know what to do
on yours."^
The Houses voted thanks to the King, and at once
pursued their plans of reform by demanding, in suc-
cessive motions, the abolition of the Star Chamber, of
the Court of the North, of the Ecclesiastical Court of
High Commission, and of all the exceptional tribunals.^
No opposition was made to these proposals ; the
statement of grievances rendered even discussion un-
necessary. Even the men who were beginning to fear
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 716, 717.
' Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 717, 722, 766.
272 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
some disorderly movement, and to suspect the ulterior
designs of the Opposition party, would not have ven-
tured to defend powers which were rendered odious by
their acts, and were really illegitimate, although
several of them were invested with legal existence.
Political reform was an unanimous wish, independent
of all social conditions and all religious opinions ; and
as yet no one cared scrupulously to estimate either its
consequences or its extent. All concurred in demand-
ing it, without analyzing either their intentions or
their motives. Men of hold mind, or of long and per-
severing foresight, or who were already seriously com-
promised by proceedings which the laws condemned —
Hampden, Pym, HoUis, and Stapleton — meditated de-
priving the Crown of its injurious preponderance, trans-
ferring the government to the House of Commons, and
fixing it there irremovably. This, in their eyes, was
the country's right, and the only real guarantee both
to the people and to themselves. But, urged on this
design even more by necessity than by any principle
clearly conceived and avowed by public opinion, they
advanced without proclaiming their intention. In their
train, impetuous sectaries — few in number, and ob-
scure as yet, though very active, Cromwell and Henry
Martyn among others, — let fall, from time to time,
words of more threatening import against the person
of the King or the form of the Government ; but they
seemed to possess, in the House at least, neither reputa-
tion nor influence ; and even those who were astonished
or irritated by their cynical violence, were not alarmed.
Most men llaltored themselves that, after the destruc-
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 273
tion of abuses, they would return to that condition
which they called that of Old England, with the supe-
rior power of the King restrained within the limits of
the law by the periodic power of the two Houses ;
and in the meanwhile they accepted, as a temporary
necessity, the almost exclusive domination of the Com-
mons, which was more conformable than they them-
selves believed to the somewhat confused ideas and
feelings which animated them. Thus political reform,
desired by all with equal ardour, though with very
diiferent views and aspirations, was accomplished with
the ascendancy of an irresistible unanimity.
In religious matters it was otherwise. From the
very outset an utter diversity of opinions and wishes
on tliis subject became evident. A petition from the
city of London, signed by fifteen thousand persons,
demanded the entire abolition of episcopacy.* Almost
at the same moment, seven hundred clergymen limited
themselves to requiring a reform of the temporal
power of the bishops, of their despotism in the Church,
and of the mal-administration of its revenues ; and
soon after, there arrived, from various counties, nine-
teen petitions, signed, it is said, by more than a hun-
dred thousand persons, and recommending the main-
tenance of episcopal government.^ In the Parhament
itself, the same dissidence was manifest. The petition
from the City was admitted only with great difficulty
by the Commons, after a violent debate.^ A bill was
' Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 93.
' Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii. p. 356.
' Baillie's Letters, vol. i. p. 244 ; Clarendon's History of the Rebel-
lion, vol. i. p. 356.
VOL. I. T
274 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
brought forward to declare ecclesiastics incapable of
discharging any civil office, thus excluding the bishops
from the House of Lords ; but, in order to obtain its
adoption by the Commons, the Presbyterian party were
obliged to promise that it should be carried no further.
On these terms only could Hampden obtain the vote
of Lord Falkland ;^ but the bill, on reaching the Peers,
was nevertheless rejected.^ Furious at this defeat, the
Presbyterians suddenly demanded the destruction of
all bishoj)rics, deaneries and chapters f but they met
with such strenuous resistance, that they determined to
postpone their motion. At one tune both Houses
seemed agreed to repress the disorders which were
introduced on all sides into the celebration of pubhc
worship, and to maintain its legal forms ;^ but, two
days afterwards, their dissensions broke out afresh.
On their sole authority, and without even informing
the Lords, the Commons sent commissioners into the
counties to remove suddenly from the churches all
images, altars, crucifixes, and other relics of idolatry -^
and these envoys sanctioned by their presence those
popular passions whose outbreak had preceded them.
The Lords, on their side, finding that the sect of
Independents had publicly resumed their meetings,
summoned their leaders to its bar, and rej)roved them,
though but timidly.*^ No opinion, no intention, on
' Clareudou's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 41.3.
- Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 794 — 814.
^ Ibid., vol. ii. col. 814 ; Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i.
p. 416.
* Ncal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii. p. 303.
5 Ibid., vol. ii. p. 343. "^ Ibid., vol. ii. p. 342.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 275
this subject, was really predominant or national.
Among the partizans of episcopacy some, few in num-
ber, but animated by the energy of faith or the ob-
stinacy of personal interest, maintained its pretensions
to Divine right ; others, regarding it as a human insti-
tution, judged it an essential adjunct of monarchy,
and thought the throne was compromised if the power
of the bishops was seriously attacked ; while others —
and these were the most numerous — would willingly
have excluded the bishops from any participation
in public affairs, but maintained them at the head of
the Church, as tradition, the laws, and state policy
seemed to require. In the opposite party, opinions
were no less diverse ; some were attached to epis-
copacy by habit, although their convictions were un-
favourable to it. In the view of many, and those the
most enlightened, no Church constitution was either
based on Divine right or absolutely legitimate. It
might be varied to suit times and places. The Par-
liament was always competent to alter it, and the
public interest ought alone to decide the fate of epis-
copacy, which no great principle required them either
to abolish or maintain. But the Presbyterian body
and their ministers regarded the episcopal system
as an idolatry condemned by the Grospel as the foster-
child and precursor of Popery. They rejected, with
all the indignation of ardent faith, its liturgy, the
forms of its worship, and even its remotest conse-
quences, and claimed for the republican constitution
of the Church, the Divine right which the bishops had
unlawfully usurped.
x2
270 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
For some time after the first successes had been
achieved in poHtical reform, these dissensions impeded
the progress of ParKament. As soon as rehgious ques-
tions were brought under discussion, the adversaries of
the Court, who had until then been unanimous, became
divided, and even violent opponents of one another ;
the majority often varied ; and no party ever appeared
which was on all occasions animated by the same
spirit, devoted to the same objects, and able to master
all opposition. P3rin and Hampden, the principal
leaders of the political party, carefully humoured the
Presbyterians, and supported even their boldest propo-
sitions. It was, however, well known that they did
not share in their fanatical passions, that they had it
more at heart to reduce the temporal power of the
bishops than to change the constitution of the Church,'
and that, in the Upper House, among the most popular
peers, episcopacy had numerous partizans. Some pru-
dent men advised the King to turn these secret dis-
sensions to account, and to prevent a union between the
political and religious reformers, by boldly intrusting
to the first the direction of the afiau's of the Crown
and State.
Negociations were accordingly commenced. The Mar-
quis of Hamilton, ever most ready to interpose between
parties, was the most active agent in the transaction.
The Earl of Bedford, a moderate man, influential in
the Upper House, and greatly esteemed by the public
at large, took a dignified share in the matter. The
leaders of both Plouses often assembled at his resi-
' Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 410.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 277
dence ; he possessed their confidence, and seemed
authorized to treat in their name. The King, who
was obHged to give a fuller consent than he could
have wished, formed at first a new privy council :'
Lords Bedford, Essex, Warwick, Saye, Kimbolton,
and others of the same stamp, were appointed mem-
bers of it ; all of them were popular, and some of
them zealous adherents of the Opposition, but all were
of high rank. The pride of Charles, wounded already
by having to bend before them, could not bring itself
to make a more humble confession of his defeat. But
the reformers insisted ; the new councillors would not
separate from their friends ; every day revealed to the
King the importance of those leaders of the Commons
for whom he felt such bitter disdain. They, on their
side, without rejecting these overtures, showed but
little anxiety to accept them ; and this was less from
indifference than embarrassment. By accepting them,
they would attain the principal object of their efforts ;
they would enter, in the name of the country, upon
the legal possession of power, would impose a ministry
on the Crown, and subject it to the counsels of Parlia-
ment. But they were required, on the other hand, to
save Strafford and the Church ; in other words, to set
at liberty their most formidable enemy, and to offend
the Presbyterians, their warmest friends. On both
sides the perplexity was great, and mutual distrust
abeady had taken too deep root to yield so quickly to
ambition or fear. More direct and precise propositions
' Clarendou's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 341.
278 HISTORY or charles the first
were, however, made. Pym was to be Chancellor of
the Exchequer; Hampden, tutor to the Prince of
Wales ; HoUis, a Secretary of State ; and St. John
was at once created Solicitor-General. The Earl of
Bedford, with the title of Lord Treasurer, was to be at
the head of the new ministry. The men who occupied
these posts had tendered or already given in their
resignation.^
But during these negociations, which were pursued
on both sides with but little hope, and perhaps also
without any strong desire for success, other proposi-
tions were made to the King, which were far better
calculated to please him. Discontent was spreading in
the army ; and several officers, who were members of
the House of Commons, had given open expression to
it. One of them. Commissary Wilmot, plainly told
the House, " That if such papers of the Scots could
procure moneys, he doubted not but the officers of the
English would soon do the like."^ A report of the
existence of this feeling soon reached the ears of the
Queen ; Henry Jermyn, her favourite, connected himself
with the malcontents ; by his means she was enabled
to receive them at Whitehall, and expressed her deep
sympathy with their condition, which, she said, was
the same, though far less painful, far less perilous, than
that of the King. Animated and pleasing in her
manners, and resting her hopes on them alone, she had
' Clarendon's History of the Ecbellion, vol. i. pp. 369 — 372 ; Whitc-
locke, p. 41 ; Sidnc}' Papers, vol. ii. ■ [>. CiG4, G66.
'■' Whitelocke, p. 4fi.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 279
little difficulty in persuading them that they held in
their hands the destiny of the State. Secret confer-
ences were established, at which plans of all sorts were
suggested ; some proposed that the army should march
upon Loftdon, and without further delay, deliver the
King from servitude; others, more prudent, merely
proposed that it should address to both Houses a peti-
tion expressing its devotedness to the King and
Church, declaring its opinion that the State had been
sufficiently reformed, and demanding that a stop should
be put to further innovations. The question of suc-
cour from abroad, of levies in France and Portugal,
was also mooted ; but such absurd notions produced no
result, though hazarded with the utmost confidence by
frivolous men, who had probably just risen from the
dinner-table, or who were certainly more anxious to
push themselves forward than to gain success for their
cause. These interviews were accompanied by in-
trigues, more active than efficacious, in the army itself;
the malcontents went and came between the camp and
London ; short pamphlets were circulated in the can-
tonments. The King himself at length had an inter-
view with Percy, a brother of the Earl of Northumber-
land, and one of the conspfrators. In accordance with
Percy's advice, he deprecated all violent designs, or any
attempt to bring the army to London ; but a draft of
a petition was submitted to him, fully as menacing to
the Parliament as those which the Commons daily
received were to the Crown and Church. He approved
of it liighly, and, to give additional influence to the
leaders of the enterprise, allowed himself to be per-
280 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
suaded to affix to it the initial letters of his name, in
token of assent.^
The plot continued, but made no progress ; the peti-
tion was not presented; but nothing can escape the
notice of a distrustful nation, for it looks upoft designs
as actions, and upon words as designs. In the pubHc
streets, and in the taverns, a host of voluntary spies
had noticed the imprudent remarks of the officers.
Pym, who attended to the police of his party, was
speedily informed of them. Soon after, treachery sup-
pHed him with further information ; Goring, one of
the conspirators, revealed the whole plot to the Earl
of Bedford. Nothing had been done ; but the King
had listened to proposals which embodied all that the
reformers had to fear. The leaders of the Commons
kept silence as to their discovery, waiting for some
great occasion in order to turn it to account;^ they
did not even break off the negotiations, which were
still pursued on the King's behalf, for their entrance
into the ministry. But, from tliis day forth, all hesi-
' May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 96 ; Clarendon's History
of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 405 ; Whitelocke, p. 46 ; Rushworth, pai-t iii.
vol. i. pp. 252—257.
^ Mr. Brodie denies this {History of the British Empire, vol. iii.
pp. 109 — 114), and thinks that the plot was not revealed by Goring
until the month of April, 1641. This, in fact, would appear to be indi-
cated by the depositions and examinations published in /fiishiduVs Col-
lection (pp. 195 ct scq.). But an attentive examination of this whole in-
trigue, and a comjjarison of the different passages indicated in the pre-
ceding note, will, I think, prove that the meetings of the officers took
place as early as the beginning of the winter of 1C41, and that Pym and
his friends were informed of the plot in the early part of Mai'ch. This
is also the opinion of Dr. Lingard (llistor// i>f EwjlanO^ vol. x. p. 128,
note 27).
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 281
tation disappeared from their councils ; they allied
themselves closely with the fanatical Presbyterians,
the only party whose support was certain, and whose
devotion inexhaustible, because they alone had fixed
principles, ardent passions, a revolution to effect, and
popular force for its accomplishment. At the same
time, the destruction of Strafford was irrevocably deter-.
mined upon, and his trial began.
The entire House of Commons determined to be
present to support the impeachment. Commissioners
from Scotland and Ireland sat with them, for the same
purpose. Eighty peers attended as judges ; the
bishops, in obedience to the urgently-expressed wish
of the Commons, absented themselves, on the ground
that they were forbidden by the ancient canons to
assist in trials for life. Above the peers, in a close
gallery, the King and Queen were seated, anxiously
watching the whole proceedings, and studiously con-
ceahng, the one his anguish, and the other her curi-
osity. The galleries and raised scaffolds were thronged
by a dense crowd of persons of both sexes, mostly of
high rank, filled with emotion at once by the pomp of
the spectacle, the importance of the cause, and the
interest excited by the well-known character of the
person accused.^
On being brought by water from the Tower to
Westminster, Strafford passed through the multitude
assembled at the doors of the HaU without experiencing
either confusion or insult : in spite of the general
' May's History of the Long Pai'liameut, p. 90 ; State Trials, vol. iii.
col. 1414; Kush worth, vol. viii.2^(ws<m.
282/ HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
hatred, liis recent greatness, his lofty bearing, and the
terror which had so lately attached to his name, still
commanded respect. As he passed onwards, with his
frame somewhat prematm-ely bent by illness, but his
eye as brilliant and piercing as in his youth, the crowd
made way for him and uncovered their heads ; he
acknowledged their salute with courtesy, and regarded
this attitude of the people as a good omen.^ Hope
had not deserted him : he despised his adversaries, had
carefully studied the charges which they brought
as^ainst him, and had no doubt that he would succeed
in clearing himself of the crime of high treason. The
accusation of the Irish alone had for a moment sur-
prised him : he found it hard to understand how a
kingdom, which had until then been so submissive, so
eager even to flatter and serve him, could thus sud-
denly have changed its character.
On the second day of his trial an incident made
him aware that he had formed an incorrect idea of his
position, and inadequately estimated the difficulties of
his defence. " I hope," he said, " shortly to clear
myself of all those foul aspersions which my malicious
enemies have cast upon me." At these words, Pym,
who was managing the trial, angrily interrupted him,
and desired the Lords "to take notice what an injury
he had done to the honourable House of Commons in
calling them his malicious enemies." Strafford, in
confusion, fell on his knees, and apologised ; and from
that moment, maintaining the most perfect calmness
' State Trials, vol. lii. col. 1417.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 283
and mastery of himself, he allowed no sign of anger, or
even of impatience, to escape him, — not a word which
could have been turned into a weapon against him.'
For seventeen days, alone against thirteen accusers,
who relieved each other in turn, he discussed the
facts which were alleged against him, A great many,
marked by iniquity and tyranny, were undeniably
proved. But others, immensely exaggerated or
bhndly adopted by the animosity of his opponents,
were easily refnted ; and, strictly speaking, not one of
the charges came within the legal definition of high
treason. Strafford took the utmost pains to strip
them of this character, nobly confessing his im-
perfections and weaknesses, opposing the violence of
his adversaries by modest dignity, and pointing out,
with respectful calmness, the passionate illegality of
their proceedings. His defence was trammelled by
abominable difficulties ; his counsel, obtained with
great difficulty and despite the Commons, were not
allowed either to speak upon the facts of the case or to
examine the witnesses ; and permission to bring
forward witnesses for the defence was granted only
three days before the opening of the trial, though
most of them would have to be fetched from Ireland.
On every occasion, he asserted his right, thanked his
judges if they consented to acknowledge it, never
complained when they refused, and simply replied to
his enemies, who were incensed at the delays oc-
casioned by his able resistance : "I have as much
' State Trials, vol. iii. col. 1420.
284 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
right, I suppose, to defend my life, as any other can
have to attack it."
So much energy embarrassed and humihated his
accusers. On two occasions, the Commons urged the
Lords to hasten the conclusion of a trial which, they
said, caused them to lose time most precious to the
country.^ The Lords refused ; the success of the
prisoner had restored to them some little energy.
When the case for the prosecution was over, before
Strafford's advocates had opened their mouths or he
had himself summed up his defence, the committee of
impeachment felt themselves defeated, at least as far
as the proof of liigh treason was concerned. The
ag-itation of the Commons became extreme : favoured
by the letter of the law, and by his own fatal genius, a
great culprit was likely to escape punishment, and
reform, in its infancy, would once more have to cope
with its most dangerous enemy. A decisive measure
was resolved upon. Sir Arthur Haslerig, a stern,
violent, and coarse-minded man, proposed that Straf-
ford should be declared guilty and condemned by act
of Parliament. Such a proceeding, which would
liberate the judges from all adlierence to law, was not
unexampled, although its precedents all belonged to
days of tyranny, and had invariably been denounced
as iniquitous soon after their occurrence. Some notes
found among the papers of Secretary Vane, and given
to Pym by his son,^ were produced as supplementary
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 743.
'^ Sir Harry Vane the younger was born in 1()12 ; he is the person
wIkj frc(|ncnt]y appears in the sequel of this history as one of the leaders
of the Independent party.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 285
evidence, sufficient to prove the charge of high treason.
The}" imported that Strafford had, in full council,
advised the Kmg to employ the Irish army to reduce
England. The words which they ascribed to him,
though contradicted by the testimony of several
members of the Council, and susceptible in themselves
of a far less odious meaning, were too conformable
with his general conduct, and the maxims he had
often professed, not to produce a deep impression upon
all minds. The bill at once obtained a first reading.
Some thought they were sacrificing law to justice,
others justice to necessity.
All this while the trial went on, for his accusers
were determined to lose no chance of gaining their
cause, and would not allow the danger of a special act
to liberate their prisoner fi-om the peril of a legal
sentence. Before his counsel spoke on the question
of law, Strafford summed up his defence : he spoke at
considerable length and with marvellous eloquence,
making it his constant endeavour to prove that, by no
law, could any of his acts be construed into high
treason. Conviction every moment grew stronger in
the minds of his judges, and he skilfully followed its
progress, adapting his words to the impressions whicli
he saw had been produced, and, though deeply affected
himself, never permitting his emotion to prevent him
from observing and noting what was passing around
him. " My lords," he said, in conclusion, " these
gentlemen tell me they speak in defence of the com-
monwealth against my arbitrary laws ; give me leave
to say it, I speak in defence of the commonwealth.
28G HISTORY or charles the first
against their arbitrary treason. Do we not live by
laws, my lords, and must we be punished by laws
before they be made ? If this crime, which they call
arbitrary treason, had been marked by any discerner
of the law, the ignorance thereof should be no excuse
for me ; but if it be no law at all, how can it in rigour
or strictness itself condemn me ? Beware you do not
awake these sleeping lions, by the searching out some
neglected, moth-eaten records ; they may one day tear
you and your posterity to pieces. It was your
ancestors' care to chain them up within the barricadoes
of statutes : be not you ambitious to be more skilful
and curious than your forefathers in the art of killing.
For my poor self, were it not for your lordships'
interest, and the interest of a saint in heaven, who
hath left me here two pledges on earth " — at these
words he paused, and burst into tears, but looking up
again immediately, he continued, — " I should never
take the pains to keep up this ruinous cottage of
mine ; it is laden with such infirmities, that, in truth,
I have no great pleasure to carry it about with me
any longer ; nor could I ever leave it in a better time
than this, when I hope the better part of the world
would perhaps think that, by this my misfortune, I
had given a testimony of my integrity to God, my
King, and country. I thank God I count not the
afflictions of this present life comparable to that glory
which is to be revealed in the time to come." Here
he paused again, as if at a loss how to continue ; then
he went on : " My lords, my lords, my lords, some-
thing more I had to say, but my voice and spirits fail
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION 287
me ; only I do, in all humility and submission, cast
myself down before your lordships' feet ; and whether
your judgments in my case be either for life or death,
it shall be righteous in my eyes, and received with a
Te Deum laudamus /"'
All who heard him were struck with compassion
and admiration. Pym rose to reply ; Strafford looked
at him ; menace breathed in the immobility of his
demeanour; liis pide and protruding lip wore an
expression of passionate scorn : Pym became agitated,
and paused ; his hands trembled, and in his confusion
he sought in vain for a paper wliicli lay just before
his eyes. It was the answer which he had prepared,
and which he read to the Court ; but no one Kstened,
and he himself hastened to conclude a speech which
was repugnant to the feelings of the assembly, and
which he found it very difficult to utter.
Emotion is fleeting, but anger is permanent ; the
rage of Pym and his friends was at its height ; they
hastened the second reading of the bill of attainder.
In vain was it opposed by Selden, the oldest and most
illnstrious of the defenders of liberty ; by Holborne,
one of Hampden's advocates in the ship-money aftlur ;
and by other eminent men.^ It was now the only
resource of the Opposition party, who plainly saw that
the Lords would not condemn Strafibrd as judges, and
in the name of the law. They even wished the trial
should be suddenly suspended, and that Strafford's
counsel should not be heard ; and such was their rage,
' State Trials, vol. iii. cols. 1466, 1467.-
- Ibid., vol. iii. col. 1469.
288 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
tliat they talked of summoning to the bar and
punishing " those presumptuous lawyers that durst be
of counsel with a man accused by them of high
treason."' The Lords rejected these furious pro-
positions ; Strafford's counsel were heard ; but the
Commons vouchsafed no answer to their arguments,
and did not even attend to hear them, saying that it
was " below their dignity to contend with private
lawyers."^ Four days after, notwithstanding the
strenuous opposition of Lord Digby, who had until
then been one of Strafford's most vehement accusers,
the bill of attainder was finally adopted.
On hearing this news, the only thought of the
afflicted King was how to save the earl, no matter at
what cost. " I cannot satisfy myself in honour or
conscience," he wrote to the earl, " without assuring
you that, upon the word of a King, you shall not
suffer in Hfe, honour, or fortune."^ All means were
attempted at once, with the blind eagerness of fear
and sorrow. Concessions and promises were employed
to mollify the leaders of the Commons ; plans were
organized for the escape of the prisoner. But the
plots neutralized the negociations, and the negocia-
tions caused the failure of the plots. The Earl of
Bedford, who seemed disposed to some leniency, died
suddenly. The Earl of Essex told Mr. Hyde, in an-
swer to some remarks on the insurmountable resist-
ance which the King's conscience would oppose to the
' Clarendon's History of the Eebellion, vol. i. p. 394.
'' Ibid., vol. i. p. 397.
' Strafford's Letters, vol. ii. p. 416.
AND THE ENGLISH DEVOLUTION. 289
bill, " that the King was obliged in conscience to
conform himself and his own understanding to the ad-
vice and conscience of the Parliament."^ Sir William
Balfour, the Governor of the Tower, was offered twenty-
thousand pounds and one of Strafford's daughters in
marriage for his son, if he would favour the earl's
escape : he refused. He was ordered to admit into
the prison as additional guards, a hundred picked men,
commanded by Captain BiUingsley, a discontented
officer : he informed the Commons. Every day wit-
nessed the formation and failure of some new plan for
the earl's preservation. At last the King, contrary to
the advice of Strafford himself, went down to the
House of Lords, and, after acknowledging the Earl's
misdeeds, and promising that he would never again
employe him in any branch of public business, declared
that no arguments or fears should ever induce him to
consent to his death. ^
But the hatred of the Commons was inflexible, and
far more daring than the King's grief; they had fore-
seen his resistance, and made preparations for over-
coming it. Ever since the bill of attainder had been
carried to the Upper House, a mob assembled daily
round Westminster Hall, armed with swords, knives,
and clubs, shouting, " Justice ! Justice /" and threat-
ening those lords who hesitated to declare their judg-
ment.^ Lord Arundel* was obliged to get out of his
carriage, and, hat in hand, beseech the multitude to
' Clarendon, vol. i. p. 427.
^ Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 754.
3 Ibid., vol. ii. col. 755 ; Whitelocke, p. 45.
■» According to Whitelocke, p. 45, it was Lord Montgomery.
VOL. I. U
290 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
withdraw, promising to hasten the accomphshment of
their wishes. Fifty-nine members of the House of
Commons had voted against the bill, and their names
were posted up in the streets, with this heading :
" Here are the Straffordians \ men who, to save a traitor,
would betray their country.'' Similar threats resounded
from almost every pulpit ; ministers preached and
prayed for the punishment of a great delinquent.
The Lords, acting upon a message from the King,
complained to the Commons of these disorders : the
Commons returned no answer.' Meanwhile, the bill
still continued in suspense. A decisive blow, which
had until then been held in reserve, was resolved
upon : Pym, summoning fear to the aid of vengeance,
denounced the plot of the Court and officers to revolt
the army against the Parhament.^ Some of the con-
spirators suddenly fled, which confirmed every suspi-
cion. A wild terror seized upon both the House and
the people. It was voted that the ports should be
closed, and that all letters from abroad should be
opened.^ Absurd alarms manifested and aggravated
the disturbance of the pubhc mmd. A report was
spread in the City, that the House of Commons had
been undermined, and was to be blown up : the militia
took to their arms, and an immense crowd thronged
to Westminster. Sir Walter Earl proceeded in all
haste to inform the House of the rumours : while he
was speaking, Mr. Middleton and Mr. Moyle, remark-
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col 778.
^ Ibid., vol. ii. col. 776.
^ Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 788, 789.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 291
ably corpulent men, rose abruptly to listen to him ;
the floor creaked : " The house is falling !" exclaimed
a number of members, rushing out of the hall, which
was immediately fiUed with the mob from outside ;
and another scene of the same nature occurred before
the end of the week.* In the midst of all this agita-
tion, skilfully-concerted measures were introduced to
secure the dominion of the Commons and the success
of their designs. In imitation of the Scottish Cove-
nant, an oath of union, for the defence of the Protes-
tant religion and the pubhc liberties, was adopted by
both Houses ; the Commons even wished to impose it
on every citizen ; and upon the refusal of the Lords to
sanction this, they declared all persons who should
decline to take it incapable of holding office in either
Church or State. ^ Finally, to guard the future from
all danger, a bill was brought forward, declaring that
the existing Parhament could not be dissolved without
its own consent.^ This daring measure scarcely ex-
cited any surprise ; the necessity of supplying a good
guarantee for loans, which, it was said, had become
more difficult to raise, served as its pretext ; and the
general excitement stifled aU objection. The Lords
attempted to amend the bill, but in vain ; the Uj^per
House was vanquished; and the judges lent its
weakness the sanction of their cowardice ; they de-
clared that, by the terms of the law, the crimes of
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 783, 788.
* Ibid., vol. ii. col. 778 ; Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii. p. 382.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 457 ; Whitelocke,
p. 45 ; Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 786, 787.
u 2
292 HISTORY OF charles the first
Strafford really constituted liigli treason.' The bill of
attainder was submitted to a last debate ; thirty -fom^
of the peers who had attended the trial, absented
themselves from the House ; of those who were pre-
sent, tw^enty-six voted for the bill, and nineteen against
it.^ It now needed only the royal assent.
Charles still resisted, thinking himself incapable of
suffering such dishonour. He sent for HoUis, Straf-
ford's brother-in-law, who, on that ground, had taken
no part in the impeachment. " What can I do to
save him?" he asked, with anguish. Hollis advised
that Strafford should petition the King for a reprieve,
and that the King should go in person to present his
petition to both Houses, in a speech which Hollis
himself drew up on the spot ; at the same time, he
promised to do all in his power to persuade his friends
to rest satisfied wdth the banishment of the Earl ; and
with this agreement, they separated. Hollis, on his
side, set to work in earnest, and his efforts in the
House had already, it is said, met with considerable
success, when the Queen, who had always been Straf-
ford's enemy, growing alarmed at the increasingly
violent character of the popular excitement, and more-
over, it is affirmed, fearing, from the report of some
of her confidants, that the Earl, to save his life, had
undertaken to reveal all he knew about her intrigues,
beset her husband with her suspicions and fears :'^ her
terror was even so great that she tlu-eatened to fly, to
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 737.
* Ibid., vol. ii. col. 737.
" Burnet's History of liis Own Tinio, vol. i. pp. 56, r>7.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 293
take ship and return to France, and had already begun
her preparations for departure.' Moved by the tears of
his wife, and incapable of adopting an independent
resolution, Charles first assembled a privy council, and
then consulted the bishops. Juxon, the Bishop of
London, alone exhorted him to obey his conscience ;
all the others, and particularly the Bishop of Lincoln,
an intriguing prelate, who had long been opposed to
the Court, urged him to sacrifice an individual to the
throne, his conscience as a man to his conscience as a
King.^ He had but just left this conference, when a
letter from Strafibrd was delivered to him. " Sire,"
wrote the Earl, " out of much sadness, I am come to a
resolution of that which I take to be the best becom-
ing me ; and that is, to look upon the prosperity
of your sacred person and the commonwealth as infi-
nitely to be preferred before any man's private inte-
rest. And therefore, in few words, as I have placed
myself wholly upon the honour and justice of my
peers, I do most humbly beseech you, for the prevent-
ing of such mischiefs as may happen by your refusal
to pass this bill, by this means to remove this unfor-
tmiate thing forth of the way towards that blessed
agreement, which God, I trust, shall for ever establish
betwixt you and your subjects. Sire, my consent
herein shall acquit you more to God than all the
world can do beside. To a willing man there is no
' See a letter from M. de Montreuil, the French minister, dated May
23, 1641, and pubhshed in Mazure's Histoire de la Revolution de 1688,
vol. iii. pp. 422, 428.
" Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. pp. 4.50,4.51 ; Warwick's
Memoirs, \). 158.
294 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
injury done ; and as, by God's grace, I forgive all the
world with a calmness and meekness of infinite con-
tentment to my dislodging soul, so, Sire, I can give
the life of tliis world with all cheerfulness imaginable,
in the just acknowledgment of your exceeding favours ;
and only beg that, in your goodness, you would vouch-
safe to cast your gracious regard upon my poor son and
his three sisters, less or more, and no otherwise, than
their unfortunate father shall appear more or less guilty
of this death." ^
On the following day, Carlton, the Secretary of
State, came on the part of the King, to announce to
Strafford that he had given his consent to the fatal
bill. Some surprise appeared in the countenance of
the Earl ; and, for his only answer, raising his hands
to heaven, he said : — "Nolite conjidere principibus et
Jiliis hominum, quia non est solus in illis." ^
Instead of going in person, as he had promised
HoUis, to ask the House for a reprieve, the King con-
tented himself with sending them, by the Prince of
Wales, a letter, which ended with this postscript ; —
" If he must die, it were charity to reprieve him till
Saturday." The House read the letter twice, and,
without paying any attention to this cold request,
fixed the execution for the following day.^
The Governor of the Tower, wliose duty it was to
accompany Strafford to the block, advised him to take a
carriage, to esca23e the violence of the populace. " No,
' State Trials, vol. iii. cols. 1516, 1517.
■^ Whitclockc, p. 46.
^ Parliamcntaiy History, vol. ii. col. 760.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 295
master lieutenant," answered the earl, " I dare look
death in the face, and, I hope, the people too. Have
you a care that I do not escape, and I care not how I
die, whether by the hand of the executioner, or by the
madness and fury of the people, if that may give
them better content ; it is all one to me." And he
went on foot, preceding his guards, and looking about
him on all sides as proudly as if he had been a general
at the head of his troops. As he passed before the
prison in which Laud was confined, he stopped : on
the previous evening, he had sent to request him to
be at the window and bless him as he passed. " My
lord," he said, raising his head, " your prayers and
your blessing." The Archbishop stretched out his
hands towards him ; but enfeebled by age, and less
firm of heart, he fell down in a fainting fit. " Fare-
well, my lord," said Strafibrd, as he moved on ; " Grod
protect your innocency ! " On reaching the foot of
the scaffold, he mounted it at once, accompanied by his
brother, some ministers of the Church, and several of
his friends ; he knelt down a moment, and then rose to
address the people. " 1 wish this kingdom," he said,
" all the prosperity and happiness in the world ; I did
it living, and now, dying, it is still my wish. But I
do most humbly recommend this to every one who
hears me, and desire they would lay their hands upon
their hearts, and consider seriously whether the
beginning of the happiness and reformation of a
kingdom should be written in letters of blood.
Consider this when you are at your homes ; and let
me never be so unhappy, as that the least drop of my
296 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
blood should rise up in judgment against any one of
you ; but I fear you are in a wrong way." He then
knelt down again, and prayed for a quarter of an hour ;
then, turning towards his friends, he took leave of
them all, shaking hands with each of them, and
giving each some advice. " Now," he said, " I have
nigh done ; one stroke will make my wife husbandless,
ni}^ dear children fatherless, and my poor servants
masterless, and will separate me from my dear brother
and all my friends. But let God be to you and them
all in all ! " As he disrobed, he added :■ — " I thank
God I am not afraid of death, nor daunted with any
discoui-agement rising from any fears ; but do as
cheerfully put off my doublet at this time as ever I
did when I went to bed." He called the executioner,
forgave him, uttered a short prayer, laid his head
upon the block, and gave the signal himself. His
head fell ; the executioner held it up to the people,
and cried, " God save the King ! " Violent acclama-
tions responded ; numerous bands spread through the
city, celebrating their victory with loud shouts ;
others retui'ned home in silence, full of doubt and
anxiety as to the justice of the wish they had just
seen fulfilled.'
Disturbed by this exliibition of sympathy, the
House of Commons used every effort to repress it ;
for nothing irritates a conqueror more than to find
that a dead enemy is still dangerous. Mr. Taylor,
for liaving said, in private conversation, that they had
' .state Trials, vol. iii. cols. 1521 — 1.')24 ; Warwick's Memoirs, p. 164.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 297
committed murder with the sword of justice, was sent
to the Tower, expelled the House, and declared in-
capable of re-election.' Lord Dighy had published his
speech against the bill of attainder ; the House forbade
its circulation, and ordered it to be burnt by the
common hangman.^ Never had the power of the
Commons seemed so great, or so firmly established ;
in consenting to the death of the Earl, the King had
also adopted, almost without a thought, the bill which
deprived him of the right to dissolve the Parhament
without its own consent. Nevertheless, the Commons
wanted some better security, and the more their power
increased, the more irresistibly they felt themselves
urged towards tyranny. By delivering StralTord into
their hands, the King had degraded himself, without
inspiring them with confidence ; and their deepened
animosity increased their mutual distrust. A Royalist
party, different from that of the Court, began to form
among them. Pym, Hampden, and HoUis, found
themselves daily compelled to a closer alliance with
the sectaries ; and this alliance was displeasing, even
to the warmest friends of liberty. " AVhy," they said,
"embarrass political reform with doubtful questions?
upon matters of worship and discipline, opinions are
divided ; against absolute power, England is unani-
mous ; this is the only enemy which we must
mercilessly do to death. "^ Sometimes this view
prevailed, and the House, resuming the discussion of
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 815.
" Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 754, 882.
^ May's History of the Long Parliament, pp. 112—117.
298 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
grievances, recovered its unanimity. The abolition of
the Star Chamber, of the Northern Court, of the Court
of High Commission, and of all arbitrary jurisdictions,
was definitively decreed, and the King gave his con-
sent after two days' hesitation/ Political reform, in so
far at least as it had at first been desired and imagined,
seemed now accomplished ; but what would it serve
to have written it in the statute-book, if its main-
tenance were to be suddenly confided to its enemies ?
The King's hesitations, the reports of plots, and the
defections which were noted or apprehended in the
army and Parliament, awakened general alarm. On
losing power, the leaders of the Commons knew that
both they and their cause would be ruined : in order
to retain it, the support of the people was necessary ;
and the people, devoted to Presbyterianism, claimed in
their turn a share in the triumph. All the old
motions against the Church now reappeared ; the
Scots even began openly to solicit the estabhshment
of uniformity of worship in both nations. These
attempts, however, failed ; and their failure, and the
embarrassment in which the two Houses were involved
by such a chaos of discordant passions and undigested
plans, imparted to their proceedings an appearance of
uncertainty and weariness, which some hoped was a
promise of future repose. But the religious conflict only
became more animated ; the sectaries grew bolder, the
Church tottered daily to its fall. Even in the Upper
House, in which its chief strength lay, everything
' Parliamcutary History, vol. ii. cols. 853 — 855.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 299
attested its decline : the spiritual lords were no
longer, according to ancient usage, mentioned sepa-
rately at the head of the bills ; while reading, the
clerk of the House affected to turn liis back on the
bench of bishops; and in all public ceremonies, the
temporal lords assumed the precedence.^ These
symptoms did not escape the observation of the
Presbyterian party, who incessantly renewed their
attacks, backed by the pohtical reformers, whom they
maintained in the possession of power ; and, in spite of
apparent reverses, advanced daily towards success.
All at once, the King called to mind his project
of going into Scotland, where, he said, the execution
of the treaty of peace, which was, at length, near its
conclusion, required his presence. It became known
at the same time, that the Queen, on the pretext of
ill health, was preparing to start for the Continent.
The disaffected army lay on the road which the King
would have to travel ; and the Queen's intrigues with
continental powers had long been suspected. This
double journey, abruptly and simultaneously under-
taken, furnished popular distrust with the aliment it
had been seeking. And the popular distrust was
legitimate and well-grounded. Without either strength
or influence in London, where he was surrounded by
useless courtiers or terror-stricken counsellors, Charles;
had turned his eyes towards the kingdom of his fathers
and the absolute monarchs of Europe. In Scotland, in
regard both to Church and Crown, he intended to make
' Neal's History of the Puritans, vol. ii. pp. 410, 411.
300 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
every concession, to gain in this way the good-will of
the people, and to load the nobility with favours. In
the army, his visit, and the language he purposed
to use, could not, he thought, fail to increase the number
of his partizans.
With regard to the Continent, his views were less
precise ; however, though as yet he neither meditated
nor anticipated war, he already sought money and
allies. The Commons abstained from expressing their
suspicions ; but they requested that the Queen should
not leave London, and that the King would defer his
departure.^ Charles showed some irritation at this
request, affecting to regard it as a groundless caprice.
To make it seem that he attached no importance to
his answer, he referred the Commons to the Queen her-
self, and to the Scottish Commissioners, who, he said,
were pressing him to hasten his journey. The Scots
readily consented to a delay ; the Queen very graciously
promised not to leave the country.^ Reassured for a
moment, the Commons strongly urged the disbanding
of the army, which until then had been purposely
delayed. Letters from the House guaranteed the
troops the speedy payment of their arrears. To
provide funds for this purpose, many zealous citizens
melted their plate ; new loans were ordered, and new
' The leaders of the ParHament were not mistaken in their belief
that, even at this period, the King was seeking support on the Conti-
nent, and that the Queen proposed to visit France for that purpose.
The instructions and letters of Jean de Montreuil, then Resident
Minister of France in Scotland and England, leave no room for doubt
on this subject. See Appendix VI.
" Parhamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 846, S.51, 852, 885, 890.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION, 301
taxes imposed.^ The disbanding, however, proceeded
but slow^ly for want of money, and also from the
ill-will of many of the officers.'^ The King secretly
rejoiced ; the Commons relapsed into despair. The
delay that had been agreed upon expired. The House
requested a second postponement, but without success ;^
the King announced his intention to set forth on his
journey. An attempt was made to demand the
appointment of a Regent during his absence, that
business might not be suspended ; but this idea was
not acted upon.* The King contented himself with
appointing the Earl of Essex Captain-general south
of the Trent, and set out on the 10th of August, with
hopes which he indicated by his language, but the
motives of which men sought in vain to penetrate.
The House soon perceived that it was losing its
time by sitting, in uncertainty and inactivity, during
the King's absence. It was far more important that
it should keep a strict watch over its adversaries, and
rekindle the zeal of its partizans in the provinces.
After sitting for a fortnight to no purpose, it resolved
to adjourn.^ Many of the members were desirous to
attend to their private affairs, and to get a little rest ;
but the leaders allowed themselves no repose. A
' May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 105 ; Parliamentary His-
tory, vol. ii. cols. 841 — 843. The rate of interest of the loan raised at
this period was fixed at ten per cent.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 480.
® Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 897, 899.
" Ibid., vol. ii. col. 892.
^ This adjournment was to last from the 8th of September to the 2Uth
of October,— Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 904.
302 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
committee, under the direction of Hampden, was sent
into Scotland, to remain near the King, and watch
over the interests of the Parhament.^ Another com-
mittee, consisting of many members^ and invested
with large powers, sat at Westminster, under the
presidency of Pym, during the interval between the
two sessions. The House of Lords took similar
measures.^ A great number of members returned to
their counties, eager to diffuse their sentiments and
impart their fears. Both parties, under the semblance
of a truce, were seeking fresh strength from abroad,
and mutually meditating new contests.
In passing through the English army, which was
being disbanded, and the Scottish army, which was
returning home, the King did not venture to make
any long stay. His attempts, however, to make friends
among the troops, and particularly among the officers,
were so public, that Lord Holland, who had been sent
to superintend the disbanding, wrote an anxious letter
on the subject to the Earl of Essex, ^ and added that,
on his return to London, he would give him further
particulars. On his arrival at Edinburgh, Charles
granted the Church and Parliament of Scotland all the
concessions they demanded; — triennial Parliaments,
relinquishment of ancient prerogatives of the Crown,
prosecutions of the principal opponents of the Cove-
nant, intervention even of the Parliament in the
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 902. This committee was com-
posed of six members — the Earl of Bedford, Lord Howard, Sir William
Armyn, Sir Philip Stapleton, Nathaniel Fiennes, and John Hampden.
* Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 910, 911.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 2.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 303
appointment of the Privy Council, — notliing was re-
fused. The King gave his sanction to the Presby-
terian form of worship, with a gravity which had none
of the appearance of complaisance, was assiduous in his
attendance at their frequent prayers, and an attentive
hearer of their long sermons ; the Covenanting leaders,
whether laymen or ecclesiastics, nobles or citizens,
were treated with marked favour ; titles, offices, pen-
sions, and promises were lavished upon them with no
niggard hand.
All at once, a report spread through the city of
Edinburgh that the two most influential nobles in the
Parliament, Hamilton and Argyle, had left town,
accompanied by their friends, and retired to Kinneil
Castle, the residence of the Earl of Lanark, Hamilton's
brother, in order to escape the danger of arrest, and
even of assassination. The surprise occasioned by this
report was extreme ; — men asked each other, without
being able to obtain a reply, what motives could have
inspired the fugitives with such fears, or the King with
such designs. Strange conjectures were hazarded ; —
Charles haughtily complained of being subjected to
such injurious surmises, as an outrage upon his royal
honour, and demanded of the Parliament the exclusion
of Hamilton, until his honour should be vindicated.
The Parhament, firmly and prudently, refused to come
to any abrupt decision, and ordered an inquiry to be
instituted. Numerous witnesses were called, on whose
evidence the committee grounded their report, which
declared briefly, that there was no cause for the King
to make reparation, or for the fugitives to entertain
304 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
any fears. Tliey returned to their places in Parlia-
ment, kept silence, as did Charles, regarding what had
passed, and the public learned nothing further on the
subject.
Neither party was willing to explain the affair,
though, in political circles, it soon became well known.
At the very moment when the King, in order to gain
the support of Scotland against England, was making
such numerous and important concessions, he had
carefully planned the destruction of his enemies in
both countries. Feehng persuaded that the judges
could not avoid condemning, as high treason that cor-
respondence between the English malcontents and the
Scottish Covenanters, which had preceded, and perhaps
determined, the late invasion, he had gone to Scotland
to collect the necessary evidence for instituting, on his
return, that impeachment of the leaders of the House
of Commons, which Strafford, anticipated by their
prior accusation, had been unable even to announce.
A young and high-spirited gentleman, who had once
been devoted to the Covenant, but now enjoyed the
King's full favour and confidence, the Earl of Mont-
rose,^ had undertaken to procure for him the documents
he so ardently desired. In reliance on his promise,
Charles had undertaken his journey ; but, before his
arrival in Edinburgh, a letter in cipher, intercepted by
Argyle, aroused the suspicions of the Scots, and the
King found Montrose in prison. Eoused by his
danger, and burning for revenge, the Earl sent to
' James Graham, Earl, and subsequently Marquis, of Montrose, was
born at Edinburgh in 1G12.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 305
inform Charles that, if he could only see him, he would
make him acquainted with his real enemies, and their
past intrigues. By the contrivance of some trusty
friends, Montrose secretly left his prison, went at night
to the King's bedchamber, informed him of all he
knew, accused both Hamilton and Argyle of having
been partakers in the designs of the malcontents,
assured the King that their papers would furnish
ample proof of their guilt, and urged him instantly to
secure the persons of those two leaders, and to " have
them both made away," if they resisted. Ever ready
to welcome rash resolutions, and without thinking of
the effect which so violent an act would not fail to pro-
duce on the minds of the people whom he was striving
to conciliate, Charles consented to the whole scheme ;
the plot was framed under the shield of concessions,
and everything was ready for its execution, when the
two lords, warned in time, caused its utter failure by
publicly withdrawing from the capital.^
Acting upon wise counsel, the Parliament of Scot-
land hushed up the affair ; it no longer feared any
danger from that source, and it had no ^vish to run the
risk of losing the advantages it had just gained, by
pushing the contest to extremities. The King himself,
to conceal his designs and their frustration, gave
Hamilton a dukedom and Argyle a marquisate ;
Lesley was created Earl of Leven : but Hampden and
' Hardwicke's State Papers, vol. ii. pp. 299 — 303 ; Clarendon's His-
tory of the Rebellion, vol. ii. pp. 17, 18 ; Burnet's Memoirs of the Ha-
miltons, pp. 184 — 187 ; Baillie's Letters, vol. i. pp. 320, 327, 330—332 ;
Laing's Histoiy of Scotland, vol. iii. pp. 228 — 230 ; Brodie's History of
the British Empire, vol. iii. pp. 142 — 156.
VOL. I. X
306 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
the English Committee, well informed as to all that
occurred, hastened to send full particulars to London,
where the adjournment of the Houses was nearly
expired. The alarm of their party was great ; ^ not-
withstanding all their distrust, they had not yet antici-
pated such dangers, and the leaders imagined that their
past relations with the Scottish insurgents had heen
fully amnestied, together with the rebellion itself, by the
last treaty of peace. At this indication of the obsti-
nately vindictive intentions of the King, men of other-
wise moderate politics beheved themselves irretrievably
compromised. Mr. Hyde one day met Lords Essex
and Holland, talking of the news with great concern ;
he bantered them on their fears, and reminded them of
what they had themselves thought of Argyle and
Hamilton a year previously. " The times and the
Court are much altered since," they rephed.^ On the
first day of its meeting, the House of Commons sent
to the Earl of Essex to demand a guard, which, it was
said, had become indispensable to the safety of the
Parliament. It was immediately granted. At con-
ferences held at the residence of Lord Holland, at
Kensington, the leaders of the two Houses communi-
cated to each other their information and suspicions,
and discussed together the course they had best
pursue ; all were anxious, and stimulated by their
anxiety to dare any risk. " If there be a plot against
us, on the part of the King," said Lord Newport, "his
' Evelyn's Memoirs, \ol. ii. jjp. 40, 4() ; Parliamentary History,
vol. ii. cols. 914, 915.
^ Clarendon's Ilistorj' of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 18.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 3U7
wife and children are here ;"^ and their alarm was all
the greater because they did not dare to use it to rouse
the people, — for, as all was quiet in Scotland, nothing-
could possibly be revealed in London.
In the midst of tliis latent agitation, news sud-
denly arrived that an insm-rection, as general as it was
violent, had commenced a career of massacre in
Ireland, and threatened the most imminent danger to
the Protestant religion and the Parliament. The
Irish CathoHcs, chiefs and people, had revolted in
every part of the island, claiming liberty for their
faith and country, invoking the name of the Queen,
and even of the King himself, in support of their
enterprise, displaying a commission which, they
said, they had received from him, and announcing
their intention to deliver themselves and the throne
from the Enghsh Puritans, their common oppressors.
The conspiracy, wliich had long been in preparation
throughout the kingdom, had been disclosed by mere
chance, at Dublin only, on the evening before its
intended outbreak; and there had scarcely been time
to preserve the seat of Government from its violence.
Elsewhere, its explosion had met with scarcely any
opposition ; in all quarters, the Protestants of Ireland,
attacked unawares, were driven from their homes, pur-
sued, massacred, and exposed to all the perils and
tortures which rehgious and patriotic hatred could
invent against heretics, foreigners, and tyrants. Hor-
rible and lamentable accounts were given of their
' Parliamentary History, vol. it. col. 984 ; Clarendon, vol. ii p. 12.
X 2
308
HISTORY OF I'HARLKS TllK TIRST
distress ; inniuiierable murdors had been committed, \ui-
paralleled sufferings endured ; and the evil was really so
great that it was capable of exaggeration, to suit indi-
vidual fears or designs, without either exceeding pro-
bability, or tiring credulity.^ A semi-barbarous people,
passionately attached to the barbarism with which they
were reproached by oppressors who denied them the
means of civilization, had joyfully embraced the hope
of deliverance which was offered them by the dissen-
sions of their tyrants. Burning to avenge, in one day,
centuries of outrage and misfortune, they felt delight
and pride in committing excesses, which filled their old
masters with horror and dismay. The English
authorities had no means of resisting their violence ;
out of hatred to Strafford and the Crown, and solely
occupied by the design of establishing liberty in
England, the Parliament had forgotten that it was its
purpose to maintain tyranny in Ireland. The treasury
in that country had been exhausted, martial law
abolished, the army reduced to a mere handful of men,
and the royal power utterly disarmed. The Parlia-
' May, at p. 121 of his History of the Long ParUament, enumerates
the naassacred Protestants at 200,000 ; and Clarendon (History of the
Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 20) reduces this estimate to forty or fifty thousand.
It seems probable, from the correspondence of the judges who were
then at the head of affairs in Ireland, and from the inquiry made into
the rebelhon in 1644, that even this latter number is exaggerated. This
inquiiy, however, deserves no confidence, though Dr. Lingard considers
it decisive (History of England, vol. x. pp. 463 — 469) ; it was made,
not only three years after the outbreak, but at a time when the RoyaUst
party was absolutely dominant in Ireland, and had just made its peace
with the Catholics ; its object evidently was to extenuate, as far as pos-
sible, the excesses committed by the insurgents, and the suflerings
endured by tlie Protestants, and thus to excuse the alliance which the
King was on the point of contracting.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 309
ment had even, in opposition to the King's wish, for-
bidden the disbanded Irish soldiers to enter any foreign
service ; ^ and they had accordingly become scattered
all over the country, and lent their strength to the
insurrection. Finally, although the Earl of Leicester
had been appointed to succeed Strafford, no new-
viceroy resided as yet in Ireland ; and the administra-
tion of affairs there was entrusted to two judges — Sir
WiUiam Parsons and Sir John Borlase — men of no
capacity or influence, whose Presbyterian zeal had been
their sole recommendation to this difficult office.
A cry of terror and furious hatred to Popery arose
throughout all England ; every Protestant thought
himself in danger. The King, who had received the
news in Scotland, hastened to communicate it to the
two Houses ; announcing, at the same time, certain
measures which, with the help of the Scots, he had
already taken to repress the revolt, and leaving further
interference in the affair entirely in the hands of the
Parliament.^ Charles had nothing to do with the in-
surrection, and the pretended commission from him
produced by Sir Phelim O'Neil was a gross imposture ;
but his known hatred of the Puritans, the confidence
which he had more than once displayed in the Ca-
tholics, the intrigues which for three months he had
been carrying on in Ireland, for the purpose of secur-
ing fortresses and soldiers in that country in case of
need,^ and, finally, the promises of the Queen, had per-
' Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. i. p. 493 ; Rushworth,
part iii. vol, i. j). 381. '^ Ibid. vol. ii. p. 22.
^ Carte's Life of Ormonde, vol. i. p. L32 ; vol. iii. pp. 30, 33 ; Claren-
310 IIISTOUY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
suaded the Irish that they might use his name, with-
out having to fear a sincere disavowal. Ireland once
m revolt, Charles flattered himself that so great a
danger would render the Parhament more tractable ;
and without supporting the rebels, without even con-
templating a proximate alliance with them, he was not,
like his people, seized with rage and terror at their
insurrection ; he made no active efforts to quell it, and
referred the affair to the Houses, in order to cast all
the risk upon them, to avoid all suspicion of complicity,
and perhaps, also, to reheve himself, in the eyes of his
Catholic subjects, from the responsibihty of the seve-
rities which they would have to suffer.
But no cunning can avail against the passions of a
people ; and those who wiU not serve them cannot de-
ceive them. The leaders of the Commons, more skil-
ful and in a better position, made it their endeavour to
tm^n the state of public feehng to their own advantage.
Their disquietude vanished, for the EngHsh people
imagined they had fallen into the same danger which
the reformers had themselves incurred. Eagerly seizing
upon the power which was offered them by the King,
notwithstanding the pomposity of their language and
the violence of their threats, they made but feeble
efforts to repress the rebellion ; the supplies of troops
and money sent into Ireland were inadequate, tardy,
don's State Papers, vol. ii. p. 337 ; Antrim's Information, in the
Appendix to Clarendon's History of the Irish Rebellion. Antrim's tes-
timony, especially as to the details of facts, does not, however, in my
opinion, deserve the confidence i)laced in it by Lingard (History of Eng-
land, vol. X. pp. 150 — 154), and Godwin (History of the Commonwealth,
vol. i. pp. 220—225).
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 811
and ill-arranged : all their speeches, all their actions,
were addressed to England alone, and, by a step as
decisive as it was unexpected, they resolved to pledge
the country irretrievably to their designs.
Shortly after the opening of Parliament, a com-
mittee had been appointed to prepare a general Ee-
monstrance in which all the grievances of the kingdom,
and the means of redressing them, should be enume-
rated. But the progress of reform had been so rapid
that they had neglected to give so much solemnity to
their complaint ; most of the grievances, at least such
as were of a political nature, had disappeared ; the
committee ceased to meet, and no one seemed to think
any more about it.
Suddenly, however, it received directions to resume
its labours, and to present its report without delay. ^
In a few days, the Remonstrance was prepared and
submitted to the House. It was no longer, as
originally intended, a statement of actual and pressing
abuses, and of the unanimous desires of the country,
but a sombre exposition of past evils, of old grievances,
of all the demerits of the King, of all the deserts of the
Parliament, of the obstacles which it had surmounted,
the dangers it had incurred, and particularly those perils
wliich still threatened it, and called for the utmost
efforts of its partisans to avert ; in short, it was a sort
of appeal to the people, addressed especially to the
fanatical Presbyterians, and which, while fomenting
the passions which the revolt of Ireland had rekindled,
' Clarendon's History of the Hebellion, vol. ii. p. 23.
312 HISTORY 0¥ CHARLES THE FIRST
urged tliem to devote themselves unreservedly to the
House of Commons, as it alone was able to save them
from Popery, the Bishops, and the King.
On the fu'st reading of the bill, many murmui's
arose : an act so hostile, without any public motive,
without any direct or apparent object, excited surprise
and suspicion in the minds of many members, who
until then had not been friendly to the Court ; they com-
plained of the bitterness of its language, of its useless
denunciation of grievances already redressed, of the
harshness with which it treated the King, and of the
hopes which it suggested to the sectaries. What
could be the hidden designs, the unknown dangers,
which necessitated such violent measures ? If the Re-
monstrance were intended for the King alone, what
advantage could be anticipated from it ? If it were
addressed to the people, by what right was such an
appeal made to without ? The leaders of the Opposi-
tion said but little in reply, as they could not state
their whole meaning ; but, in their private conversa-
tions, they laboured earnestly to gain the suffrages of
their colleagues, protesting that they merely desired
to intimidate the Court, and to frustrate its intrigues,
and that when the Remonstrance was once adopted, it
should not be published. This language was not
without its effect, for distrust was now so universally
prevalent that men, otherwise moderate in then* views,
welcomed any expression of it when conveyed in
prudent and conciliator}'- language. After a few days,
at the moment when the House, after a sitting of
several hoiu's, was about to rise, the Opposition leaders
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 313
demanded that the Remonstrance should be put to the
vote at once ; they had counted the number of their
adherents, and believed themselves certain of success.
But Lord Falkland, Hyde, Colepepper and Palmer
opposed so hasty a proceeding, urgently insisting on
the postponement of the vote until the following day,
and the House readily consented to this delay. " Why
would you have it put off?" said Cromwell to Lord
Falkland ; " this day would quickly have determined
it." " There would not have been time enough,"
answered Lord Falkland, " for sm-e it would take
some debate." " A very sorry one," replied Cromwell,
with real or affected confidence. Though opened the
next day at three o'clock in the afternoon, when night
arrived, the debate seemed only to have just com-
menced. The Com-t was no longer pitted against the
country ; for the first time, two parties were in con-
flict, if not both equally national, at least both sprung
from the body of the nation, both resting on public in-
terests and opinions, and both reckoning many good and
independent citizens among their supporters. Common
hopes had once united them, opposite fears now divided
them ; each sagaciously foresaw the future in store for
their triumphant adversaries, and lost sight of that
which their own victory would have produced. They
fought with a desperateness previously unexampled,
and were all the more obstinate because they were still
sparing of each other, and did not dare to hazard the
open accusations which their suspicions dictated. Hours
passed ; fatigue drove away the waverers, the careless,
and the old ; one even of the King's ministers, Secre-
314 HISTORY OF CHARLES THR FIRST
tary Nicholas, left the House before the close of the
debate. " This," said Sir Benjamin Rudyard, " will
be the verdict of a starved jury." At length, towards
midnight, the House resolved to divide ; a hundred
and fifty-nine votes were given in favour of the Re-
monstrance, and a hundred and forty-eight against it.
Hampden immediately rose, and moved that it should
be printed. " We thought as much," cried his op-
ponents ; " it is an appeal to the people, and to infuse
jealousies into their minds." " It hath seldom been the
custom," said Mr. Hyde, " to publish any debates or
determinations of the House, which have not been
regularly first transmitted to the House of Peers. I
believe the printing it in this manner is not lawful,
and I fear it would produce mischievous effects ; and
if the question be carried in the affirmitive, I desire
the leave of the House to enter my protestation." " I
do hkewise protest !" cried Mr. Palmer. " I protest !
I protest !" repeated their friends. It was now the
turn of the other party to express astonishment and
indignation ; protests, though usual with the Lords,
were unused in the Commons ; Pym rose to demon-
strate their illegality and danger, invectives interrupted
him ; he persisted, and was answered by threats. The
whole House was up, and many members, laying their
hands to their swords, seemed ready to begin the civil
war within the walls of Parliament itself. Two hours
passed, during which the tumult was renewed at
every attempt to procure the adoption of the resolution.
At length, lamenting this humiliating disorder with
mucli mildness and gravity, Hampden proposed that
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 315
the House should rise, and the decision be adjourned
until the afternoon. This suggestion was adopted.
" Well," said Lord Falkland to CromweU, as he was
leaving the House, " has there been a debate?" " I'll
take yom* word another time," replied Cromwell, and
whispered in his ear : — " Had the Remonstrance been
rejected, I would have sold all I have to-morrow
morning, and never have seen England more ; and I
know there are many other honest men of the same
resolution." ^
The afternoon sitting was more tranquil ; the
Royalists despaired of victory, and their adversaries
had found themselves so near losing it that they were
not at all anxious to risk a fresh contest. They had
annoimced their intention to impeach those who had
protested; but Mr. Hyde had many friends among
them, who refused to give him up. Mr Palmer was
sent to the Tower, but liberated almost immediately.
After some mutual explanations, the quarrel was
hushed up. A majority of twenty -three votes ordered
that the Remonstrance should be printed.^ The
printing was, however, delayed, as it was necessary
first of all to present it to the King, who was daily
expected.
He returned, confident and haughty, notwithstand-
ing the check which he had received in Scotland, and
the knowledge he already possessed of the increased
' Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. pp. 40 — 49 ; Warwick's
Memoirs, p. 170 ; May's History of the Long Parliament, 2)p. 134, 135 ;
Whitelocke, pp. 50, 51 ; Rushwoi-th, part iii. vol. ii. pp. 425 — 428.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 49 ; Parliamentary
History, vol. ii. col. 937.
31 G HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
animosity of the Parliament. Everywhere on his
journey, and particularly at York, he had been received
with enthusiastic expressions of affection and delight.
In many places, his concessions to the Scots had rejoiced
the people ; while his secret intrigues were unknown
or imperfectly understood. In the country, moreover,
as well as in the Parliament, the Royalist party was
organizing itself, and giving expression to its feelings.
Nor did the city of London remain aloof from these
proceedings. The King's friends had carried the
election of the new Lord Mayor, Eichard Gourney, an
active, courageous, and devoted man, who had pre-
pared a most brilliant reception for his sovereign. A
multitude of citizens, well armed and mounted, with
the banners of the various corporations displayed, went
out to meet him, and escorted him with acclamations
to the palace of Wliitehall. The King, in his turn,
gave them a magnificent banquet, conferred the honour
of knighthood on the Lord Mayor and several of the
aldermen ;^ and on the next day after his arrival, eager
to intimate to the Commons that he believed himself
stronger than ever, he withdrew the guard which,
during his absence, the Earl of Essex had granted for
their protection.^
Affairs now changed their aspect ; the unanimous en-
thusiasm of the entire kingdom was succeeded by party
conflict, and reform was followed by revolution. The
leaders felt this, and their conduct suddenly assumed a
' Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. pp. 429 — 434 ; May's History of the Long
Parliament, p. 134 ; Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 62 ;
Whitelocke, p. 50 ; Evelyn's Memoirs, Appendix, vol. ii. p. 79.
'^ Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 940.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 317
new character. The Eemonstrance was submitted to
the King ; he listened patiently whilst it was read, and
then, turning to the committee, inquired : " Doth the
House intend to publish this declaration ?" " We can
give no answer," was the reply, " Well then," said
the King, " I suppose you do not now expect an
answer to so long a petition ; I shall give you one
with as much speed as the weightiness of the business
will permit."^ This mattered little to the leaders of
the Commons ; without waiting for any communica-
tion from the King, they at once brought forward
measures which were not even hinted at in the lie-
monstrance. They had until tlien redressed grievances,
and invoked the ancient laws of the country; they
now proclaimed principles, and imperiously demanded
innovations. A bill was under discussion regarding
levies of troops for Ireland : a clause was inserted in
the preamble : " That the King hath, in no case, nor
upon any occasion but invasion from a foreign power,
authority to press the free-born subject ; that being-
inconsistent with the freedom and liberty of his per-
son. "- Another bill was brought forward, importing
that the organization of the militia and the appoint-
ment of its officers should in futui'e be conducted only
with the concurrence and consent of Parliament.^ A
few days before the King's return, by the influence of
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 942, 943.
* Clarendon's History of the Eebellion, vol. ii. pp. 69 — 73 ; Parlia-
mentary History, vol. ii. col. 969 ; May's History of the Long Parlia-
ment, p. 149.
3 May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 156 ; Clarendon's History
of the Rebellion, vol. ii. pp. 68, 69.
318 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
the Presbyterians, the bill exckiding ecclesiastics from
all civil offices had been revived and adopted ; but the
Lords hesitated to pass it. The Commons angrily
complained of the delay. " This House," they said,
"is the representative body of the whole kingdom,
and their lordships are but as particular persons, and
come to Parliament in a particular capacity ; if they
shall not be pleased to consent to the passing of these
acts, and others necessary for the preservation and
safety of the kingdom, then this House, together with
such of the Lords that are more sensible of the safety
of the kingdom, will join together, and represent the
same unto his Majesty." And the popular Lords, the
Earls of Northumberland, Essex, and Warwick, con-
sented to the employment of such language.^ Out of
doors, the party raUied round their leaders with equal
ardour : the Remonstrance was published f the City
declared that, in receiving the King with such pomp,
the citizens of London had not intended to abandon
their true friends, and that they would hve and die
with the Parhament.^ A petition from the apprentices
set forth the bad state of trade, and imputed their
commercial distress to the Papists, the bishops, and
the bad councillors of the King.* In the coimties,
associations were formed for the defence of liberty and
religion. Support flowed in to the Commons from all
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 916 ; Commons' Journals, vol. ii.
p. 330.
Ibid, vol. ii. col. 970.
^ May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 13(j.
* Clarendon's History of the KebelHon, vol. ii. p. 70 Rushwortli,
part iii. vol. i. p, 462.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 319
sides ; sinister rumours from time to time obtained for
them fresh proofs of the nation's attachment : now it
was said that the life of Pym was threatened, now that
the rebels in Ireland were preparing an invasion ; on
the strength of a mysterious visit, or a chance word
heard in the street, plots were denounced, and oaths
of union formally taken ; and whilst the House daily
demanded the restitution of its guard, the multitude,
thronging daily in greater numbers around West-
minster HaU, formed an escort which loudly proclaimed
their common dangers.
Against pretensions so daring, and supported by
such tumultuous passions, Charles, on his part, be-
stirred himself to rally all his partizans — the interested
servants of absolute power, the loyal defenders of
their king, whatever might be his cause, and the
patriots who had recently been loud in their outcries
against tyranny, but who had been brought back to
their allegiance to the Crown by the fear of innovations
and excesses. These last formed almost exclusively
the rising Royalist party in the House of Commons.
Lord Falkland, Mr. Hyde, and Sir John Colepepper
were at their head. Charles resolved to attach them
to his cause. Already, before his journey into Scot-
land, he had had secret interviews with Hj^de, and by
the respectful wisdom of his advice, by his aversion to
all innovation, and most of all by his devotion to the
Church, Hyde had gained his confidence.' Lord Falk-
land was less agreeable to him ; he despised tlie Court,
' Clarendou's Life, vol. i. pp. 93, 9i.
320 HisTOUY or chables the first
had but little respect for the King, and had not even
allied himself with his cause since his rupture with the
innovators, whom he opposed rather to defend offended
justice than to serve imperilled royalty. Charles
feared liim, and felt ill at ease in his presence ; yet he
was forced by necessity to make advances to him.
Hyde, his most intimate friend, undertook the nego-
tiation. Falkland at first refused ; his scrupulous
virtue kept him aloof from the promoters of the
revolution ; but his principles, his aspirations, and
the flights of his somewhat dreamy imagination,
incessantly urged him to combine with the friends
of liberty. He alleged his antipathy to the Court,
his inability to serve it, his resolution never to
employ either falsehood, corruption, or spies : " They
may be useful and perhaps necessary measures,"
he said, "but I will not sully my hands by them."
Though surprised and piqued at having to solicit
a subject, Charles insisted. Hyde pointed out the
immense injury which would accrue to the King
from such a refusal. Falkland allowed himself to
be persuaded, but was disheartened beforehand, as
he was the victim of a devotedness based on neither
affection nor hope. He was appointed a Secretary of
State. Colepepper, a far less influential man, but dis-
tinguished by his boldness and mental resources in
debate, was made Chancellor of the Exchequer. Hyde
alone, contrary to the King's wish, obstinately refused
to take office, not from fear, but from prudence, and
because he thought he could serve his Majesty better
by maintaining the external independence of his posi-
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 321
tion.^ The three friends undertook to manage the
King's affairs in the House, and Charles promised to
attempt nothing without consulting them.
At the same time, other servants, less useful, but
more ardent, hastened to him from all parts of the
kingdom, to defend his honour and life, w^hich, they
said, were threatened by the Parhament. Notwith-
standing the decay of the feudal system, the feehngs
to which it had given rise still animated many of the
gentry. Living idly on their estates, unaccustomed
to reflection and debate, they despised those prating and
argumentative citizens, whose dismal creed proscribed
wine-drinking, and the games and pleasures of Old
England, and who aspired to govern the Ki^ng, whom
their fathers had not even had the honour to serve.
Proud in the recollection of their own independence,
they paid but Httle heed to the new requirements of
pubHc Hberty. Like the people, they had murmured
against tyranny and the Court ; but after so many
concessions had been made by the prince, their short-
sighted loyalty kindled with indignation at the insolent
obstinacy of the innovators. They arrived in London
in arms, swaggered haughtily through the taverns and
streets, and frequently went to Whitehall to offer the
King their services, and ask some favour in return.
There they were joined by other men, attracted by an
even less pure and more bhnd feeling ofdevotedness, —
the Reformado officers whom the disbanding of the
army had left without pay or employment, most of
' Clarendon's Life, vol. i. p. 100 ; Clarendon's History of the Rebel-
lion, vol. ii. pp. 93 — 98 ; Warwick's Memoirs, p. 194.
VOL. I. Y
322 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
them soldiers of fortune, trained in the continental wars,
dissolute, mercenary, and reckless, irritated against
the Parliament because it had deprived them of their
profession, despising the people, who detested their
loose manners, and ready to do anything for any
master who would employ them, no matter for what
purpose. Young lawyers, students of the Temple,
protected by the Court, or anxious to share in its
pleasures, or thinking to prove their gentihty and
elegance by embracing its cause, swelled the restless
and presumptuous throng that daily assembled about
Whitehall, declaiming against the Commons, insulting
their adherents, lavish of bravado and jocularity, and
eager that the King or chance should furnish them
with some opportunity of pushing their fortune by
exhibiting their loyalty.^
The popular party were no less impatient to give
them this opportunity ; their assemblages became
every day more numerous and agitated. Bands of
apprentices, artizans, and women marched morning
after morning from the City to Westminster, and as
they passed before Whitehall, the cries of " No
Bishops I No Popish Lords I" redoubled in furious
vehemence. Sometimes they would halt, and one of
them momiting on a post, would read to the mob the
names of the " disaffected members of the House of
Commons," or of the " false, evil, rotten-hearted Lords."
Their audacity even went so far as to demand that the
sentinel should be removed fi'om the palace gates, that
' Ludlow's Memoirs, p. K).
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 323
they might be able to see the King, at any hour, at
their pleasure/ Violent quarrels soon arose ; the two
parties were distinguished by the names of Cavaliers
and Roundheads. The citizens at first rejected the
latter name as an insult, but afterwards adopted it as
a title of honour.^ The Cavaliers, in their turn, went
to meet their enemies round Westminster Hall, some-
times to brave their attacks, and sometimes to protect
the royalists from menace and injury as they left the
Parliament. The wrath of the people was especially
directed against the House of Peers, by whom the
bill for the exclusion of the bishops was still held in
suspense. Dr. Williams, the Archbishop of York,
while walking to the House, attempted to arrest with
his own hand a young man who was pursuing him
with insults ; but the mob fell upon him, and his
friends had great difficulty in rescuing him.^ Both
parties made and released prisoners by turns. Blood
was shed; the Cavahers boasted derisively of having
dispersed their adversaries ; but the Roundheads
returned the next day, better trained and better armed.
One evening, while the Lords were still sitting, the
tumult without became so violent, that the Marquis
of Hertford went up to the bench on which the bishops
were seated, and advised them not to leave the House,
' Clarendon's History of the Eebellion, vol. ii. pp. 84 — 86 ; May's
History of the Long ParUament, p. 137 ; Parliamentary History, vol. ii,
col. 986.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 93 ; Rushworth,
part iii. vol. i. p. 493.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 90 ; Rushworth,
part iii. vol. i. p. 493.
Y 2
324 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
" for," he said, " those people vow they will watch you
at your going out, and search every coach for you with
torches, so as you cannot escape." '^Must we then
pass the night here ?" asked the bishops. " In all
probabihty," replied, with a smile, the supporters of
the bill of exclusion. They got away, however, some
in the carriages of popular lords, others by private
passages : but many even of their friends began to
think their presence was not worth the danger which
it occasioned.^ Twice did the Upper House claim the
assistance of the Commons for the repression of these
outrages ; but the Commons remained silent, or replied
by complaints of the disorderly behaviour of the Cava-
liers. " We must not discourage our friends," said the
popular leaders ; " this being a time when we must make
use of all friends. Grod forbid the House of Commons
should proceed in any way to dishearten people to
obtain their just desires !"^ The Lords applied to the
magistrates, demanding that the rioters should be pro-
ceeded against, according to law ; and in obedience to
an order sealed with the great seal, the justices of
peace ordered the constables to place guards round
Westminster Hall to disperse the mob. The Commons
sent for the constables, treated the order as a breach of
privilege, and committed one of the justices to the
Tower. ^ At the same time, the House voted that, as
the King persisted in refusing them a guard, each
member should have tlie right to bring one of his
Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 991.
Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 980, 987. ' Il)id., vol. ii. col. 987.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 325
servants, and station him at the door, armed as he
might think fit.
These riots and clamours, this continual and irre-
pressible disorder, filled the King with anger and
alarm. Never, even in his worst apprehensions, had
he contemplated the possibility of such scenes ; he was
astonished and indignant that his royal majesty should
be exposed to such gross insults ; and he began to be
alarmed not for his power only, but for the safety, or at
least the dignity, of his life and person. The Queen,
still more agitated, beset him with her terrors ; and
the pride of the monarch, and the tenderness of the
husband, could not endure the idea of danger or
insult threatening the object of his affections, and the
partner of liis throne. Looking in every direction for
some support against the populace, some means of pre-
venting or punishing their excesses, he resolved to
remove Sir William Balfour, who was devoted to the
Commons, from the lieutenancy of the Tower, and to
replace him by a safe and daring man. Three thousand
pounds, raised by the sale of some of the Queen's
jewels, were given to Sir William, to appease his ill
humour. Sir Thomas Lunsford, one of the boldest
leaders of the Cavahers who were wont to assemble at
Wliitehall, was appointed to succeed him.^ At the same
time, the King assumed a loftier tone towards the Par-
liament, attempting to intimidate it in his turn. Hyde
had prepared an able and firm answer to the Remon-
strance ; Charles adopted it, and ordered that it should
' Clareudou's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii, pp. 8U, 81.
326 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
be published in his own name.^ Tlie bill on the im-
pressment of soldiers was still under discussion in both
Houses ; before it had been presented to him, Charles
went down to the House, and announced that he would
not sanction it without the omission of the clause in
the preamble, which deprived him of the right to order
impressment.^ No progress was made with regard to
Irish affairs ; he called upon the Commons to take
them into immediate consideration, and offered to levy
ten thousand volunteers, if the House would promise
to pay them.^ The bishops, on their side, possibly
with the King's consent, met to deliberate on their
position. Violence awaited them at the doors of the
House of Lords : they resolved, therefore, to absent
themselves from it, and to explain in a protest the
causes of their retirement, declaring null and void
every bill that should be adopted without the con-
currence of all the legitimate and necessary members
of Parhament. This protest, rapidly prepared, and
signed by twelve bishops,* was immediately presented
to the King, who received it with eagerness : it in-
spired liim with the hope of being one day able to
annul, on this pretext, the acts of that fatal Parliament
which he found it impossible to control. At once,
and without mentioning the matter to his new coun-
' Clarendon's Life, vol. i. pp. 97 — 100; Parliamentary History, vol. ii.
cols. 970—977.
- Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 968.
3 Ibid., vol, ii. col. 991.
* These were the Archbishop of York, the Bishops of Durham, Lich-
field, St. Asaph, Oxford, Bath and Wells, Hereford, Ely, Gloucestci-,
Peterborougli, Llandaft', and Norwich.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 327
sellers, whose advice he feared far more than he vahied
their influence, he ordered the Lord Keeper to present
the protest to the House of Peers that same day, and
congratulated himself on his skill in contriving for
himself a better future/
The surprise of the Lords' was extreme ; they could
hardly believe that twelve bishops, whose parlia-
mentary existence was called in question, could pre-
sume thus to settle the fate of the Parliament itself,
and to destroy it by withdrawing from it. The protest
was communicated without delay to the Commons,
and received by them with that apparent anger and
secret joy which the mistakes of an enemy always
inspire. The impeachment of the bishops was imme-
diately proposed and resolved upon, for conspiracy
against the fundamental laws of the realm, and the
existence of Parliaments.^ Irritated by their impru-
dence, and perhaps glad of the opportunity to abandon
a ruined cause without disgrace, even their friends
were silent ; one voice only rose in their favour, sug-
gesting that they should be sent to Bedlam, and not
before the judges.^ The Upper House sanctioned the
impeachment, and committed the bishops to the
Tower. Eager to avail themselves of so good an
opportunity, the leaders of the Commons vigorously
pushed forward all their attacks. Complaints had
already been made of the King's declaration with
■ Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 993 ; Clarendon's History of the
Eebellion, vol. ii. pp. 113 — 116.
* Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 994 — 996 ; Whitelocke, p. 53.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. pp. 117 — 121,
328 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
regard to the Impressment Bill, as destructive of the
pri^'ileges of the House, which did not permit him to
take notice of any bill while under discussion. It was
now insisted that these privileges must be firmly
secured, as they were the only anchor of safety amid
impending perils. Displeasure was also expressed at the
appointment to the Tower of Sir Thomas Lunsford, a
man of no character, without fortune, piety, or morals,
known only by his violent hostihty to the people,
and capable of the most pernicious designs. Already,
it was said, the alarm was so great in the City that
merchants and foreigners would no longer deposit
their bullion in the Mint. The appointment of a new
governor was therefore demanded. Lord Digby, who
had become the King's most intimate confidant, was
denounced for having said that the Parliament was
not free.^ And finally, reports were current that the
Queen herself might probably be impeached ere long
of high treason."
The King appeared to yield. He took no step in
favour of the bishops ; withdrew the government of
the Tower from Lunsford, and gave it to Sir John
Byron, a man held in general esteem for his prudence
and honesty ;^ said no more about the riots ; and
made no complaint about the recent debates. Secret
reports and vague rumours, however, rendered the
House uneasy. The Queen, though silent and re-
served, seemed animated by some hope ,* Lord Digby,
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 969, 982, 1002.
" Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 231.
!■ Ibid., vol. ii. p. 82.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 329
whose presumptuous temerity was well known, had
frequent interviews with her, and daily grew more
intimate both with her and the King. The concourse
of Cavaliers at Wliitehall increased. Without explain-
ing their fears, the Commons again sent a message to
demand the restoration of their guard. The King
made no answer, saying that he must have their peti-
tion in writing. Upon this delay, the Commons
ordered arms to be brought into their place of meet-
ing, as though assured of some immediate danger.
Three days after, the answer arrived. It was a refusal,
terminating in these words : — " We do engage unto
you solemnly the word of a King, that the security of
all and every one of you from violence is, and shall
ever be, as much our care as the preservation of us and
our children." But the House, more alarmed than
ever, directed the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and Com-
mon Council to hold the militia of London in readi-
ness, and to post strong guards at various points in the
City.^
On that same day, in fact, Sir Edward Herbert, the
Attorney-Greneral, went to the House of Lords, and,
in the King's name, impeached of high treason Lord
Kimbolton and five members of the House of Com-
mons, Hampden, Pym, Hollis, Strode, and Haslerig.
The grounds of accusation were, that they had at-
tempted — 1, to subvert the fundamental laws of the
kingdom, and to deprive the King of his regal power ;
2, to alienate the affections of the people from the
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 1002 — 1004 ; Rushworth, partiii.
vol. i. p. 471 ; Commons'' Journals, vol. ii. p. 916.
380 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
King by odious calumnies ; 3, to excite the army to
revolt against the King ; 4, to encourage a foreign
power, Scotland, to invade the country ; 5, to subvert
the rights and very being of Parliament ; 6, to encou-
rage seditious assemblages against the King and the
Parliament, for the piu'pose of securing, by force and
terror, success to their traitorous designs; and, 7, to
levy war against the King. Sir Edward required, at
the same time, that a committee should be formed
to examine into the charges, and requested that the
House would be pleased to secure the persons of the
accused.^
The Lords remained motionless ; no one had anti-
cipated any such act, and no one ventured to speak
first. Lord Kimbolton rose and said that " he was
ready to obey whatever the Lords should order ; but
he prayed that, as he had a public charge, he might
have a public clearing." And he resumed his seat
amid the same silence. Lord Digby, who was sitting
by liis side, whispered in his ear, " That the King was
very mischievously advised, and that it should go very
hard but he would know whence that counsel pro-
ceeded." And he left the House at once, as if to seek
the information he so greatly desired. Yet he it was,
and he alone, we are assured, who had ui'ged the King
to this enterprise, pledging himself, moreover, to de-
mand the immediate arrest of Lord Kimbolton as soon
as the Attorney-Greneral had impeached him.^
' Eushworth, part iii. vol. i. pp. 473, 474.
^ Ibid., p. 474; Clarendon's History of the Eebellion, vol. ii. p. 125,
129.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 331
A message was immediately sent from the Lords to
inform the Commons of the whole affair. They had
just heard that the King's officers had gone to the
houses of the five members, and placed seals on all
their effects. The House instantly voted that such a
proceeding was a violation of their privileges ; that it
was the right of the accused persons, and the duty of
every constable, to resist it ; and that the King's
officers shoidd be arrested and brought to the bar as
delinquents. Sir John Hotham was sent to the Lords
to request a conference without delay, and had orders
to declare that if the Upper House persisted in
refusing to unite with the Commons in demanding a
a guard from the King, they would withdraw to some
safer place. Whilst they were waiting the answer of
the Lords, a serjeant-at-arms made his appearance.
" I am commanded," he said, "by the King's majesty,
my master, upon my allegiance, that I should come
and repair to the House of Commons and there require
of Mr. Speaker five gentlemen, members of the
House of Commons ; and these gentlemen being deli-
vered, I am commanded to arrest them, in his Majes-
ty's name, for high treason." He then proceeded to
name them. The accused members were present, but not
one of them moved from his seat. The Speaker ordered
the serjeant-at-arms to withdraw. Without tumult
or opposition, the House directed a committee to go,
while the House was still sitting, and inform his
Majesty that so important a message could not be
answered until after mature deliberation. Two of the
King's ministers, Lord Falkland and Sir John Cole-
332 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
pepper, were members of this committee : they had
been kept in entire ignorance of the design. The con-
ference with the Lords was opened : in less than an
hour it resulted in an order for the removal of the
seals, and in a joint demand for a guard, which was
conveyed to the King, in the name of both Houses,
by the Duke of Richmond, his most honest favourite.
" I will send an answer to-morrow," rephed the King
in his turn ; and the Commons adjourned until one
o'clock on the following day, after ordering the accused
members to attend in their places as usual. ^
On the following day, when the House reassem-
bled, their anxiety and irritation had increased ; a
presentiment of some new danger, unknown but cer-
tain, agitated every mind. The Royalists sat sorrow-
ful and silent. Among their adversaries, a thousand
rumours, collected the previous evening, during the
night, and that very morning, were in circulation.
The Cavaliers had met, it was said ; the King had
given them orders to hold themselves in readi-
ness ; two barrels of gunpowder and a quantity of
arms had been conveyed from the Tower to White-
hall f the five members were surrounded by their
colleagues, each of whom had some conjecture, or
information, or advice to impart. They were, how-
ever, better informed than any others. The French
ambassador, who had long maintained a secret under-
standing with them, and the Countess of Carlisle,
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 1007 — 1008 ; Rushworth, part iii.
vol. i. pp. 474 — 476.
' Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. pp. 476 — 480.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 338
who, it is said, was Pym's mistress, had informed
them of the measure that was in contemplation,^ but
they said nothing about it. All at once arrived Cap-
tain Langrish, who had recently returned from service
in France, and whose acquaintance with many of the
Reformado officers enabled him to watch all that was
going on. He announced that the King was ap-
proaching ; that he had seen him leave Whitehall,
escorted by three or four hundred men, guards. Cava-
liers, and students, all armed ; and that he was coming
in person to arrest the accused members. This an-
nouncement produced the greatest disorder ; but the
necessity of prompt resolution speedily stilled the
tumult. The House urged the five members to with-
draw, for many had already seized their arms, and
were preparing to resist. Pym, Hampden, Hollis,
and Haslerig retired at once ; Strode refused to go ;
in vain was he advised and entreated. The King had
already entered Palace Yard, when at length his
friend, Sir Walter Earl, pushed him out by force.
The remaining members took their seats. The King
passed through Westminster Hall between a double
file of his servants ; his guard mounted the stairs of
the House with him. On reaching the door, he
forbade his escort, on pain of death, to follow him any
further, and entered, hat in hand, accompanied only
by liis nephew, the Count Palatine. All the mem-
bers rose and uncovered. The King cast a passing
' Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 477 ; Whitelocke, p. 52 ; Warwick's
Memoirs, p. 203; Mazure's Histoire de la Revolution de 1688, vol. iii.
p. 429 ; Memoires de Madame de Motteville, vol. i. p. 266.
334 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
glance at Pym's usual seat, and not seeing him there,
walked up to the Speaker. " By your leave, Mr.
Speaker," he said, " I must borrow yom- chair a little."
Then sitting down, he cast his eyes round the House,
and thus addressed the members : — " I am sorry, gen-
tlemen, for this occasion of coming unto you. Yester-
day I sent a serjeant-at-arms upon a very important
occasion, to apprehend some that, by my command,
were accused of high treason, whereunto I did expect
obedience, and not a message. And I must declare
unto you here, that albeit no king that ever was in
England shall be more careful of your privileges, to
maintain them to the uttermost of his power, than I
shall be ; yet you must know that, in cases of treason,
no person hath a privilege. And therefore I am come
to know if any of those persons that were accused are
here ; for I must tell you, gentlemen, that so long as
these persons that I have accused (for no slight crime,
but for treason) are here, I cannot expect that this
House will be in the right way that I do heartily
wish it, and therefore I am come to tell you that I
must have them wheresoever I find them. Mr.
Speaker, where are they?" The Speaker fell on his
knees, and replied — " May it please your Majesty, I
have neither eye to see nor tongue to speak in this
place, but as the House is pleased to direct me, whose
servant I am here. And I humbly beg 3^our Ma-
jesty's pardon that I cannot now give any other
answer than this to what your Majesty is pleased to
demand of me." " Well," returned the King, " since
I see all the birds are flown, I do expect from you
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 335
tliat you shall send them unto me as soon as they
retui-n hither. But I assure you, on the word of a
Kmg, 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 I see I cannot do
what I came for, I think this no unfit occasion to
repeat what I have said formerly, that whatsoever I
have done in favour and to the good of my subjects, I
do mean to maintain it. I will trouble you no more,
but tell you I do expect, as soon as they come to the
House, you will send them to me, otherwise I must
take my own course to find them." And he left the
chair, still holding his hat in his hand. The House
remained motionless, but, as the King withdrew, cries
of " Privilege ! privilege !" burst from all sides. ^
As soon as he was gone, the House, without farther
debate, and even without announcing its intentions,
adjourned to the following day : all the members went
out, anxious to learn how far the King's designs had
been carried, and what was the popular opinion
regarding them. They found outside, on the staircase,
in the hall, and at the doors, among their own ser-
vants who were waiting for them as well as among
the assembled multitude, an emotion no less strong
than their own. The insults and threats of the
Cavaliers formed the general topic of conversation.
" One of them," says an affidavit of the day, " drew a
pistol from his pocket, and cursed and swore at the
' Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. pp. 477, 478 ; Parliamentary History,
vol. ii. cols. 1009—1012 : Commons' Journals, vol. ii, pp. 366—369 ;
Whitelocke, pp. 52, 53.
336 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
Parliament for prick-eared, cropt-eared rascals, and
said he'd kill as many of them as he could." " What !"
said a young Templar in Ludlow's hearing, " shall we
suffer these fellows at Westminster to domineer thus ?
Let us go into the country, and bring up our tenants
to pull them out." Some even asked : " When wiU
the order come ?" as though they expected some
sanguinary outbreak ; and these sayings, passing
rapidly from mouth to mouth, everywhere produced
the same indignation.' The five members had with-
drawn into the City ; the citizens suddenly took
arms ; the Lord Mayor strove in vain to calm them ;
strong patrols were spontaneously formed for the
common safety ; and during the whole evening, bands
of apprentices patrolled through the streets, crying
from door to door that the Cavahers were coming to
set the city on fire ; some even added that the King
was to command them in person.^
The agitation was not less great at Whitehall ; the
King and Queen had founded the highest hopes on tliis
bold action ; for some time, it had formed the occupa-
tion of all their thoughts, and the subject of all their
conversations, in their secret domestic conferences
with their most intimate confidants. That very
morning, at the moment of his departure, the King
kissed his wife, and promised her that, in an hour, he
would return master at length of his kingdom ; and
the Queen, watch in hand, liad counted the minutes
' Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. pp. 484 — 486 ; Ludlow's Memoirs,
pp. 10, 11.
'■^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 1:30.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 337
until his reappearance.' All had failed, and although
the King still persisted in his design, it was without
hoping to gain anything by it, or even knowing how
to accomplish it. Offended and grieved, his wisest
friends, Falkland, Hyde and Colepepper, kept them-
selves aloof, and would give him no advice. A pro-
clamation was pubHshed, ordaining that the ports
should be closed, and forbidding all persons to receive
or harbour the accused members ;^ but no one, even at
the Court, was under any delusion as to the force of
such orders ; it was well known that the five members
were together in a house in the City,^ and no one had
any fear for their safety. Lord Digby alone was
wilHng to expiate, by his audacity, the imprudence of
the advice he had given, and his own weakness in the
House of Lords at the moment of the accusation. He
offered to go in person, with Lunsford and a few
Cavaliers, to seize upon the offenders in their retreat,
and bring them to the King, dead or alive. But
Charles, either from some remnant of respect for the
laws, or because he was as timid as rash in character,
rejected the proposal, and resolved, on the following
day, to go in person into the City, and solemnly
demand of the Common Council to dehver up the
accused members ; hoping by his presence and gra-
ciousness of speech to win the obedience of the people,
whose anger he had not had the wisdom to foresee.^
' Memoirs of Madame de Motteville, vol. i. p. 265.
* Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. pp. 129, 130.
^ Ibid., vol. ii. p. 135. The house was in Coleman Street.
* Ibid., vol. ii. p. 131
VOL. I. Z
338 IT [STORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
At about ten o'clock in the morning, he left
Wliitehall, without guards, in order to show his entire
confidence in the affection of his subjects. The streets
through which he passed were thronged by a sullen
and gloomy crowd, who tumultuously exhorted him
to agree with his Parliament.' In some places, more
menacing cries were heard : the words Privilege !
Privilege I resounded on all sides, and a man named
Walker flung into his carriage a pamplilet entitled
" To your tents, Israel !" — the cry of revolt of the
ten tribes of Israel, when they renounced allegiance to
Eehoboam.^ On his arrival at Guildhall, Charles
demanded the five members, in afiable and temperate
language ; declaring at the same time his devotedness
to the Protestant religion, and his sincerity in the
concessions he had made, and promising to act in all
things according to the laws. No applause greeted
his speech ; like the people, the Common Council were
grave and sad. The King turned to one of the
sherifis, who, it is said, was an ardent Presbyterian,
and told him he would dine with him. The sherifli'
bowed, and, when the Council had broken up, received
the King at his house with great pomp and respect.
But, as he went back to Wliitehall, Charles met with
no better reception from the crowd than he had done
in the morning, and he returned to his palace, irritated
and despondent.^
* Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 131 ; Whitelocke,
p. 53.
* Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 479.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 131 ; Rushworth
part iii. vol. i. pp. 479, 480. The correspondence of the Marquis de la
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 339
On the same day, the House had met, and resolved
that, after so enormous a violation of its privileges, so
long as reparation was not made, and a trusty guard
appointed to secure it from such perils in future, it
could not sit freely ; and it had therefore adjourned
for six days. But, though it had then adjourned, it
did not cease to act. A Committee,^ invested with
ample powers, was appointed to sit morning and
evening in the City, for the purpose of making an
inquiry into the late breach of privilege, and of
investigating the general state of the kingdom, and
particularly of Ireland, in concert with the citizens,
the faithfid fi-iends of the Parliament. This Committee
was installed at Guildhall, with great pomp ; a strong
guard was assigned to them ; a deputation from the
Common Council waited on them, and placed at their
disposal all the forces and services of the citizens.^
Their sittings were as active as those of the House
itself; every member was entitled to be present at
them ; the house which served as an asylum to the
five culprits was close at hand ; and nothing was done
without their knowledge or against their advice.^
More than once even they attended the Committee in
Ferte-Imbault, then Ambassador of France in London, gives some
curious details regarding tlie internal condition of the Court of Charles I.
at this time, and the hostile intrigues of France and Spain, which
served to complicate and embitter the parliamentary conflicts. See
Appendix VII.
' It was composed of twenty-five members, including two of the
King's ministers, Lord Falkland and Sir John Colepepper.— Rushworth,
part iii. vol. i. p. 479.
^ Clarendon's History of the Eebellion, vol. ii. pp. 132—135.
* Clarendon's History of the RebelHon,vol.ii. p. 134; Whitelocke, p. 64.
z 2
340 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
person, and the people cheered them as they passed,
proud to possess and guard such representatives. In
the midst of their victory, skilful intrigues, framed to
augment their zeal, maintained their alarm. Every
day, the House of Commons and the City contracted a
closer alliance, and mutually encouraged each other to
greater boldness.^ At length, on their sole authority,
it is said, and as if they had constituted the House
itself, the Committee published a declaration con-
taining the result of their inquiries f and the Com-
mon Council addressed a petition to the King, in
which they complained of his bad councillors, of the
Cavaliers and Papists, and of the new Governor of the
Tower, openly embraced the cause of the five members,
and demanded all the reforms which the Commons
had indicated.^
The King was alone, shut up in Whitehall, dis-
avowed by his most honest adlierents. Even the
Cavaliers were intimidated, and either dispersed or
silenced. He attempted to reply to the petition of
the Common Council, and again ordered the arrest of
the five members.^ But his answers were unnoticed,
and his orders ineffectual. He learned that, within
two days, the House would resume its sittings ; and
that the five members were to be escorted with great
pomp to Westminster, by the militia, the peo]3le, and
even the Thames boatmen, whose afifection he had
until then believed he possessed. " What !" he said,
' Eushworth, part. iii. vol. i. p. 483.
* Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 155.
" Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 480.
* Ibid., pp. 481, 482.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 341
angrily, ''do even these water rats desert me?" and
this speech, spreading rapidly among the men, was
received by them as an insult which called for revenge.'
Deserted and humiliated, irritated by the general
outcry which daily assailed him without one voice
being raised in his defence, Charles could not endure
the thought of seeing his enemies pass in triumph
before his palace. The Queen, by turns furious and
fearful, conjm-ed him to leave the capital. The
royahsts, and messengers whom he sent to various
parts of the kingdom, promised him strength and
safety elsewhere ; the Cavahers, conquered in London,
boasted of their influence in their respective counties ;
away from the Parliament, the King would be free ;
and without the King, what could the Parliament do ?
This resolution was adopted ; he determined to retire,
in the first instance, to Hampton Court, and after-
wards, to a greater distance, if necessary ; secret
orders were despatched to the governors of several
places, whose loyalty seemed unquestionable ; the Earl
of Newcastle set out for the north, where his influence
was predominant : and on the 1 0th of January, the
evening before the reassembling of the Commons,
accompanied only by his wife and children and a few
servants, Charles left London and that palace of
Whitehall which he was destined to re-enter only on
his way to the scaffold.^
On the day after his departure, at about two o'clock
' William Lilly's Observations on the Life and Death of King Charles,
in Maseres' Select Tracts, vol. i. p. 173.
* Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 162 ; Rushworth,
342 HISTORY OP CHARLES THE FIRST
in the afternoon, the Thames was covered with boats,
carrying small pieces of ordnance, and prepared for
fight, in which the five members were escorted back
to Westminster. A multitude of barges, gaily adorned
with flags, and filled with citizens, followed ; along the
banks marched the London militia, carrying the last
declaration of the Parliament at the end of their pikes.'
An officer, trained in the armies of Gustavus Adol-
phus. Captain Skippon, had been appointed on the
previous evening to command them ; he was a coarse,
illiterate man, but a blunt, bold soldier, very austere
in his manners, and exceedingly popular in the City.
An immense crowd thronged after this procession ; and
as they passed before the deserted palace of Wliite-
hall, they came to a stand, and asked, with insulting-
shouts : " What has become of the King and his
Cavaliers? and whither are they fled?"^ On their
arrival at Westminster, the five members eulogised in
glowing language the devotedness of the City to the
popular cause, and the sheriffs were brought into the
House and received the thanks of the Speaker. As
they departed, another procession came up ; four thou-
sand knights, gentlemen, freeholders, and others, arrived
on horseback from Buckinghamshire, Hampden's na-
tive county, to present to the House a petition against
Papist lords and bad counsellors, and to express their
part iii. vol. i. p. 564. Commons' Journals, vol. ii. p. 925 ; Whitelocke,
p. 54.
' May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 157 ; Rushworth, part iii.
vol. i. p. 484 ; Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. pp. 164 —
166.
* Clarendon's History of the RebcUion, vol. ii. p. 164.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 343
coufidence in their worthy representative ; they had
also another petition for the House of Peers, and a
thu'd for the King, and in their hats they wore a
printed oath to live and die with the Parhament, who-
ever might be its enemies.' On every side burst forth
that proud and joyous enthusiasm which authorises
and conmiands the leaders of the people to adopt the
boldest resolutions ; the Commons advanced with skil-
ful daring, yielding to the popular pressure, as the
pilot gives way to a violent but propitious wind. In
a few hours, they had voted that no member could be
arrested, on any pretext, without their consent ; a bill
was adopted giving the Houses power to adjourn, in
case of need, to any place they might choose ; an
address was drawn up to request the King to remove
Sir John Byron from the government of the Tower ;
and until his answer should be received, Skippon was
directed to post guards around the fortress, and to
watch its approaches with the utmost care ; letters
were sent to Colonel Groring, the Grovernor of Ports-
mouth, to forbid him to receive any troops or muni-
tions of war into the town, without the authority of
Parliament ; Sir John Hotliam, a rich and influential
Yorkshire gentleman, was ordered to set out imme-
diately, and take the command of Hull, an important
town, the key to the north of England, and the seat of
extensive arsenals. Finally, two days afterwards, the
House voted that the kingdom was threatened with
danger, and should be placed without delay in a state
' Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. pp. 486 — 488 ; Clarendon's History of
the Rebellion, vol. ii. pp. 166—170.
344 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
of defence : the Lords refused to join in this declara-
tion ; but this mattered little ; the object was attained^
the people were everywhere on their guard. ^
The House had reason to anticipate war, for the
King's only thought now was how to prepare it. In
London, he had been powerless and humiliated; but
when he had once left the capital, he was surrounded
by none but partizans, was no longer reminded daily
and hourly of his weakness, and was able to indulge
freely in the hope of overcoming, by armed force, the
enemy from whom he had just fled without a combat.
The Cavaliers also had recovered their presumptuous
bearing ; already they seemed to think war had been
declared, and evinced the greatest anxiety to com-
mence hostilities. On the very day after their de-
parture, the House learned that two hundred of them,
commanded by Lunsford, had marched upon Kingston,
twelve miles from London, where the military stores of
the county of Surrey were kept, as if with the inten-
tion of seizing upon the town, and establishing them-
selves in it ; it was also informed that Lord Digby
had gone to them on the King's behalf, to thank them
for their zeal, and come to an understanding with
them, assuredly for some fatal purpose. The Parlia-
ment lost no time in taking its measures, and these
attempts were frustrated. Lord Ligby was so strongly
denounced that he fled beyond sea.^ Thinking himself
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 1028 — 1035 ; Rushworth, part iii.
vol. 1. p. 469 ; Clareiidon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. pp. 170 —
173.
''■ Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 469 ; Nalsou's Collection, vol. ii,
p. 845 ; Parhamentary History, vol. ii. col. 1036 ; Whitelocke, p. 54.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 345
still too near London, the King left Hampton Court for
Windsor; Lunsford and his Cavaliers followed him
thither. There, in a secret council, it was resolved
that the Queen, taking with her the crown jewels,
should proceed into Holland to purchase arms and
ammunition, and to solicit the support of the con-
tinental princes ; and that she should allege, as the
pretext for her jommey, the necessity of taking to the
Prince of Orange, the Princess Henrietta-Maria, a
mere child, to whom he had been contracted six
months previously.^ The King, on his part, still
keeping up his negociations with the Parliament, was
to retire gradually towards the northern counties,
where his partizans were most numerous, to take up
his residence at York, and there await the oppor-
tunity and means of action. Matters being thus
arranged, the Queen made her preparations for de-
parture with great mystery ; and the King requested
the two Houses to prepare a general statement of
their grievances and present them to him in one entire
body, promising to give them immediate satisfaction,
and thus put an end to their contentions.^
The Upper House received this message with joy ;
the King had numerous friends in that body, and
many others, alarmed or wearied by the existing state
of things, only aspired to put an end to the struggle,
without any thought for the future. But the Com-
mons, more clear-sighted and resolute, could not be-
' Clarendon's History of the Eebellion, vol. ii. p. 176 ; Pere d'Orleans,
Histoire des Revolutions d'Angleteri'e, book ix. p. 87.
^ Parliamentary Histox-y, vol. ii. cols. 1045, 1046.
346 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
lieve that the King would grant what they demanded,
or perform what he had promised. His proposition
was, in their eyes, a mere stratagem to get rid of them
at a single blow, and, when they were dismissed, to
resume absolute power. They refused to concur in
the eager thanks of the Lords, unless the King were
requested, in the first place, to intrust the command
of the Tower, of the other forts, and of the militia, to
men who possessed the confidence of the Parliament.^
The House of Peers rejected the amendment, but
thirty-two lords protested against its rejection -^ and
the Commons, strong in the support of such a mi-
nority, addressed their petition to the King in their
own name alone. He answered by a decided refusal
as to the Tower and other forts, and in vague and
evasive language as to the militia -f for he was evi-
dently bent on making no further concessions, and his
sole object was to gain time. The Commons, on their
part, were determined not to lose time ; they were as
well served at Windsor as in London, for their
strength was very generally believed in ; they had
spies and friends everywhere, and were ignorant nei-
ther of the King's projects, nor of the Queen's intended
journey, nor of the intrigues of the Court in the
northern counties and on the Continent.^ The danger
was pressing ; it might happen that the King would
be ready for war before the militia question was
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 1048.
^ Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1049.
3 Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 517.
■* Clarcudoii'a Iliatory of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 234.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 347
decided, and in that case, how was he to be re-
sisted? The populace were agitated by bhnder
but more immediate fears ; there were rumours that
ammunition had been taken from the Tower; that
plots existed against the lives of the popular leaders ;
and great indignation was felt that they should always
win fruitless victories. A fresh and strong expression
of pablic feehng could alone, it was thought, surmount
these new obstacles, arm the zealous, encourage the
lukewarm, and paralyze the malignant. Petitions
flowed in from all the counties, and from all classes of
citizens ; apprentices, small tradesmen, poor artizans,
London porters, and even women, thronged about
Westminster Hall to present their addresses. Wlien
the women first made their appearance, Skippon, who
commanded the guard, expressed his surprise : " Hear
us," they cried, "for where there is now one, there
will be five hundred the next day ; and it is as good
for us to die here, as at home." He went to the
House for instructions, and, on his return, gently
advised them to withdraw. But they returned two
days after, having chosen Anne Stagg, the wife of a
wealthy brewer, as their spokeswoman, and bearing a
petition at the end of which they had taken care to
explain their reasons for their conduct. " It may be
thought strange and unbeseeming our sex," they said,
" to show ourselves by way of petition to this honour-
able assembly. But Christ has purchased us at as dear
a rate as he hath done men, and therefore requireth
of us the like obedience for the same mercy, as of
men. Women are sharers in the common calamities
348 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
that accompany both Church and Commonwealth, when
oppression is exercised over the Church and kingdom.
Therefore we do this, not out of an^^ seK-conceit or
pride of heart, as seeking to equal ourselves with men,
either in authority or wisdom ; but, according to our
places, to discharge that duty we owe to God, and to
the cause of the Church." Their petition was received,
and Pym went out to give them an answer. They
formed in a body around him, in front of the door.
" Good women," he said, " your petition, with the
reasons, hath been read in the House, and is thank-
fully accepted of, and is come in a seasonable time.
You shall, God willing, receive from us all the satis-
faction which we can possibly give to your just and
lawful desires. We entreat you, therefore, to repair
to your houses, and turn your petition into prayers
at home for us ; for we have been, are, and shall be,
to our utmost power, ready to relieve you, your hus-
bands, and children."' They departed without noise or
tumult ; furnishing a remarkable instance of sobriety
amid the vagaries of popular enthusiasm, and of moral
gravity amid party manoeuvres.
The petitions were very uniform in character ; they
all demanded the reformation of the Chui'ch, the
punishment of the Papists, and the repression of malig-
nants. Some even went further, and pointed out the
• Nearly all these petitions were presented between the 20th of
January and the 5th of February, 1642 ; that of the women was pre-
sented on the 4th of February. Conamons' Journals, vol. ii. pp. 938—
961 ; Parhamentary History, cols. 1049—1055, 1072—1076 ; Clarendon's
History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. pp. 221, 225.
AND TITE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 349
crying evils of the moment ; and in these, the House
of Lords was openly threatened. " Let those noble
wortliies of the House of Peers," they said to the
Commons, "who concur with your happy votes, he
earnestly desired to join with your honourable House,
and to sit and vote as one entire body ; which, we
hope, will remove from us our destructive fears, and
prevent that which apprehension will make the wisest
and peaceablest men to put into execution." "We
never doubted the House of Commons," cried the
people at the doors of Westminster Hall, " but we hear
all sticks in the Lords' House ; and we desire to know
the names of those peers who hinder the agreement
between the good Lords and. the Commons."^ Even
in the House of Lords, the language of the two parties
began to assume a warlike tone : — " Wliosoever refuses
to join with the House of Commons, in this particular
of the mihtia, is, in my opinion, an enemy to the Com-
monwealth," said the Earl of Northumberland. He was
called upon to explain himself. "It is our opinion like-
wise," cried his friends, who had, until then, been in
the minority on this question. The mob were at the
doors ; fear seized on the Lords ; several left the
House ; others changed their views ; Lord Chancellor
Littleton himself, with a few trifling reservations,
supported the proposition of the Commons, which at
length received the sanction of the Tipper House ; and,
a few days after, the bill for the exclusion of the
' Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. pp. 224, 225,
350 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
bishops, which had been in suspense for three months,
was also passed by the Lords. ^
This bill was presented to the King separately, as
the ordinance respecting the militia was not yet drawn
up. His perplexity was great ; he had just informed
the Parliament of the Queen's intended journey ; in
order to appease the Commons, he had officially aban-
doned all proceedings against the five members ; ^ he
had even consented to appoint, as Governor of the
Tower, Sir John Conyers, whom the Commons had
recommended ; ^ but it had been his hope, by these
concessions, to avoid doing anything further, and to
elude all great questions, until he should be ready to
resist. The exclusion of the bishops was against his
conscience ; the abandonment of the mihtia would
place all the force of the country in the hands of his
adversaries. Meanwhile, he was hard pressed on all
sides ; even his own councillors did not think he could
give a total refusal ; Lord Falkland, still supposing him
to be sincere, constantly advocated concession ; Cole-
pepper, who was not very devout, but fond of expe-
dients, strongly insisted on the adoption of the bill
against the bishops, but said that the militia bill was a
matter of far greater importance, for, with the sword,
all might be regained, and it would then be easy to
> Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 226 ; May's His-
tory of the Long Parliament, p. 148 ; Parliamentary History, vol. ii.
cols. 1077, 1367.
^ Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 492.
^ Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 1087 ; Clarendon's History of
the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 236.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 851
revoke an assent which had been extorted by violence.
" Is Ned Hyde of that mind ? " asked the King. " No,
sire," repHed Hyde, " I am not ; nor do I wish that
either of the bills should be passed." " That is my
judgment also," said the King, " and I will run the
hazard." ^ Colepepper went to the Queen, described
to her the dangers which menaced both the King and
herself, and pointed out the obstacles which would be
placed in the way of her journey, now the only means
of putting the King in a position to defeat his enemies.
The Queen, as easily inspired by fear as by hope, and
animated, moreover, by no friendly feelings towards the
Anghcan bishops, readily allowed herself to be agitated
and persuaded, by the vehemence of his gestures and
language. She hastened to her husband, and with
passionate tears and entreaties, implored him to have
regard for his safety, for their future happiness, and
for their children. Charles was unable to resist her ;
he yielded sorrowfully and repentantly, as he had
done in Strafford's case, authorized Commissioners to
sign the bill in his name, said nothing about the
mihtia, and set out for Dover, where the Queen was to
embark.
He had no sooner arrived there, than he received a
message from the Commons ; like Colepepper, they
attached far more importance to the militia bill than
to the exclusion of the bishops, who were already
vanquished and in prison. They had hastened to
draft their bill, in which they had inserted the names
' Clarendon's Life, vol. i. pp. 114, 115.
352 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
of the lieutenants who were to command in each
county; and they sohcited its immediate sanction.
" I have no time to consider of a particular answer for
a matter of so great a weight as this," said the King ;
*' therefore, I must respite the same until my return."^
As he was retm-ning, after the Queen's embarkation
(which took place on the 23rd of February), he
received a second message on the road, at Canterbury,
insisting still more urgently on an answer. He
learned at the same time, that the Commons opposed
the departure of his son Charles, Prince of Wales,
whom he had directed to meet him at Greenwich, as he
intended to take him with him into the North ; that
they had prosecuted the Attorney-General, Herbert,
for having obeyed his orders in impeaching the five
members ; and, finally, that they had intercepted and
opened a letter from Lord Digby to the Queen. So
much distrust, after so many concessions, offended
him as deeply as if the concessions had been sincere.
He treated the messengers very roughly, without,
however, coming to any decision.^ On liis arrival at
Greenwich, he found the Prince, whom his tutor, the
Marquis of Hertford, notwithstanding the prohibition
of the Commons, had at once taken thither, on re-
ceiving the King's orders. Then at length, free from
anxiety respecting his wife and children, he sent his
answer to the Parliament ;^ he was willing, he said,
to intrust the command of the militia to the officers
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 1083—1085, 1091, 1097.
^ Clarendon's Life, vol. i. pp. 119, 121.
^ Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 521 ; Clarendon's Life, vol. i. p. 124.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 353
whom they had named, but he must have Kberty to
dismiss them, if necessary, and they must except from
the measure the principal towns of the kingdom,
where the mihtia would remain, as before, under the
government of their charters, and of the ancient laws.
Then, without further delay, he set out for York, travel-
ling by easy stages. At Theobalds, he was overtaken
by twelve Commissioners from the Parliament. On
receiving his answer, both Houses had voted that it
was a positive refusal ; that, if he persisted in it, they
would dispose of the militia without his sanction ; and
that his return to London could alone avert the evils
with which the kingdom was threatened. The tone
of the messsage was rough, as though the Houses
wished to intimate that they knew their strength, and
would not fear to use it. " I am so much amazed
at this message," said the King, " that I know not
what to answer. You speak of jealousies and fears ;
lay your hands to your hearts, and ask yourselves
whether I may not likewise be disturbed with fears
and jealousies ? And if so, I assure you this message
hath nothing lessened them. For the militia, I
thought so much of it before I sent that answer, and
am so much assured that the answer is agreeable to
what in justice or reason you can ask, or T in honour
grant, that I shall not alter it in any point. For
my residence near you, I wish it might be so safe and
honourable, that I had no cause to absent myself from
Whitehall ; ask yourselves whether I have not. For
my son, I shall take that care of him which shall
justify me to God as a father, and to my dominions
VOL. I. 2 A
354 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
as 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 by all fair means
seek to preserve and maintain, relying upon the
goodness and providence of God, for the preservation
of myself and rights."^ And he continued his journej'-.
A week after, at Newmarket, other Commissioners
presented themselves ; they brought with them a
declaration, in which the Parliament, enumerating all
its grievances and fears, justified its conduct, and
conjured the King to return to London, to come to an
understanding with his people, and thus to dissipate
the dark forebodings which agitated all minds. Deep
emotion was evident in the firm language of the
declaration, and it was equally manifest at the inter-
view between the King and the Commissioners ; their
conversation was long, earnest, and familiar, as
between men deeply afiected by the prospect of an
imminent rupture, and still striving to persuade each
other to be reconciled ; it was clear that, though they
no longer hesitated, though they had no means of
reconcihation, though they judged a contest inevitable,
and were firmly resolved to maintain it, yet both
parties engaged in the conflict with unfeigned regret,
and made a last efibrt to avert it, with earnestness,
though without hope. "What would you have?"
said the King. " Have I violated your laws ? Have
I denied to pass any one bill for the ease and security
of my subjects ? I do not ask you what you have
' Clarendon's Life, vol. i. p. 127 ; Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. pp. 523,
624.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 355
done for me. Have any of my people been transported
with fears and apprehensions ? I have offered as free
and general a pardon as yourselves can devise ? What
have I denied the ParUament ? " The Earl of Hol-
land instanced the militia. "That was no bill,"
replied the King, "and I have not denied it." The
Earl then endeavoured to persuade his Majesty to
resume his residence near the Parliament. " I would
you had given me cause," said the King ; " but I am
sure that this declaration is not the way to it ; and in
all Aristotle's Ehetoric, there is no such argument of
persuasion." The Earl of Pembroke reminded his
Majesty that the Parliament had hunbly besought
him to come near them. " I have learned by your
declaration," answered the King, " that words are not
sufficient." Lord Pembroke entreated his Majesty to
express what he would have. *' I would whip a boy
in Westminster school," said Charles, " that could not
tell that by my answer ; but you are iiriich mistaken
if you think my answer a denial." "Well," said
Lord Pembroke, " may not the militia be granted, as
is desired by the Parliament, for a time ?" " By God !
not for an hour," exclaimed the King ; " you have
asked that of me in this, which was never asked of a
king, and with which I will not trust my wife and
childi'en." Then, turning to the Commissioners of the
Commons, he added : — " The business of Ireland will
never be done in the way you are in ; four hundred
will never do that work, it must be put in the hands
of one. If I were trusted with it, I would pawn my
head to end that work ; and thougli I am a beggar
2 A 2
H50 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
myself, yet I can find money for that."' These last
words revived every suspicion ; they were regarded as
an acknowledgment of the possession of secret re-
sources, and as indicative of a design to render the
Parliament unpopular, by imputing to it the disorders
of Ireland, and also of a desire to find himself alone
at the head of an army of which he could dispose at
his pleasure. The conference was carried no further ;
the Commissioners returned to London ; the King
continued his journey, and arrived at York without
any other incident.
Then commenced, between the Parliament and the
King, a conflict previously unexampled in Europe —
a clear and glorious symptom of the social revolution
which then took its rise, and is now in process of ac-
complishment. Negociations were still continued, but
neither party expected any result from them, or even
had any intention to treat. It was no longer to one
another that they addressed their declarations and
messages ; both appealed to the whole nation, to public
opinion ; to this new power both seemed to look for
strength and success. The origin and extent of the
royal authority, the privileges of the Houses of Parlia-
ment, the limits of the fidehty due from subjects, the
militia, the petitions for the redress of grievances, and
' This conversation is taken from a pamphlet pubhshed in London
by W. Gaye, immediately after the return of the Commissioners, and
which contained a narrative of all that had passed between them and
the King. The printer of this pamphlet was sent for and questioned
by the House of Lords ; but, upon his saying that he had the copy
from the Lord Keeper's clerk, he was dismissed. — Parliamentary His-
tory, vol. ii. cols. 1126, 1127 ; Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. pp. 526 — 533.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 357
the distribution of public employments became the
subjects of an official controversy, in v^hich the
general principles of social order, the various nature of
governments, the primitive rights of liberty, the his-
tory, laws and customs of England, were alternately
quoted, explained, and commented upon. In the in-
terval between the disputes of the two parties in
Parhament, and their armed encounter on the field of
battle, reason and learning interposed, as it were, for
several months, to suspend the course of events, and
to put forth their ablest efforts to obtain the free con-
currence of the people, by stamping either cause with
the impress of legitimacy. At the opening of the
Parliament, England had neither expected nor desired
a revolution : the Dissenters alone meditated one in
the Church. A return to legal order, the restoration of
ancient liberties, and the reformation of actual and
pressing abuses were, in the country's belief at least,
the sole wish and hope of the nation. The leaders
themselves, though bolder and more enlightened, had
formed no vaster projects ; the energy of their will
exceeded the ambition of their thoughts ; and they
had gone onward, from day to day, without any remote
object or systematic design, by the mere progressive
development of their position, and in order to satisfy
urgent necessities. When the time came for drawing
the sword, all were astonished and deeply moved ; not
that their hearts were timid, or that civil war in general
was regarded by either Parliament or people as any-
thing unprecedented or criminal ; on the contrary, they
were proud to read of its triumphs in the Great Charter,
358 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
and in the history of their country : more than once
they had hraved their masters, and had taken away and
bestowed the crown ; but those times were ah-eady so
distant that they had forgotten the miseries which they
entailed, and only remembered the glorious examples
which they famished of their energy and power. But
it had always been in the name of the laws, of certain
and admitted rights, that resistance had been declared :
in achieving liberty, England had always considered
herself as merely defending her inheritance; and to
the words law and legal order, that popular and spon-
taneous respect was attached, which rejects discussion
and sanctions the most audacious designs. Now, how-
ever, both parties mutually accused each other of
illegality and innovation, and both were justified in
making the charge ; for the one had violated the
ancient rights of the country, and had not abjured the
maxims of tyranny ; and the other demanded, in the
name of principles still confused and chaotic, liberties
and a power which had until then been unknown.
Both felt the necessity of throwing the mantle of
legahty over their pretensions and acts ; both under-
took to justify themselves, not only according to
reason, but according to law. In their train, the
whole nation rushed eagerly into the hsts, agitated, to
a greater extent than their leaders, by feehngs that
seemed contradictory, and yet were all equally sincere.
Scarcely emancipated from an oppression which the
laws of their ancestors had condemned without being
able to prevent, they engaged ardently in the search
for more effectual guarantees : but yet their hopes
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 359
were still attached to those very laws, whose power-
lessness they had so recently experienced. New be-
liefs, new ideas, were fermenting in their minds ; they
clung to them with pure and lively faith, giving way,
with powerful confidence, to that enthusiasm which
seeks the triumph of truth, no matter at what price ;
and yet, at the same time, modest in their thoughts,
tenderly faitliful to their old habits, and fall of respect
for their ancient laws, they dehghted in the behef that,
far from making any changes, they were merely paying-
homage to their ancestral institutions, and restoring
them to vigorous operation. Hence arose a singular
mixture of boldness and timidity, sincerity and hypo-
crisy, in the pubhcations of all kinds, official or other-
wise, with which England was then inundated. The
ardour of the national mind was unbounded, the move-
ment universal, unprecedented, and mirestrained ; in
London, in York, in all the large towns of the kingdom,
pamplilets, periodical and irregular journals, were
multiphed and diffused in every direction ; political,
religious and historical questions, news, sermons, plans,
advice and invectives — all found a place in them, all
were related and discussed :^ voluntary messengers
hawked them about the comitry ; at the assizes, on the
market-days, at the doors of churches, the crowd
flocked to purchase or read them ; and in this simul-
taneous outburst of heterogeneous thoughts, in the
' These are the titles of some of these pubhcations : — Mercurius,
with the affixes of AuUcus, Britannicus, Rusticus, Pragmaticus, FoUticus,
Lunaticus, and so forth ; Diurnal Occurrences, Parliament Scout, Parlia-
mentary Intelligencer, Special Passages, &c., &c., &c.
360 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
midst of this novel appeal to popular opinion, whilst
at the core of both actions and writings there already
prevailed the principle of national sovereignty in
conflict with the Divine right of kings, yet the
statutes of the realm, the jurisprudence, traditions, and
usages of the country were incessantly invoked as the
only legitimate umpires in the dispute ; and revolution
was everywhere existent, without any one daring to
proclaim the fact, or perhaps even to avow it to him-
self.
In this state of the public mind, the moral position
of the Parliament was a false one, for it was by its
means and to its advantage that the revolution was
to be effected ; compelled at once to promote and
disavow it, its actions and language belied each other
in turn, and it fluctuated painfully between bold-
ness and artifice, violence and hypocrisy. Considered
as exceptional maxims and measures, applicable to
critical emergencies, but ceasing with the necessity
which called them forth, its principles were true and
its resolutions legitimate ; but parties will not thus
rest satisfied with the possession of a merely ephemeral
legitimacy, people will never feel enthusiastic devotion
to the doctrines and interests of a day : at the very
moment when the present alone sways them so as to
decide both their opinions and their acts, they love to
believe in the perpetuity of their ideas and deeds, and
assume to regulate the future in the name of eternal
truth. Not content with possessing itself of the
sovereign power, the Parliament voted, as a funda-
mental principle and definition, as it were, of the legal
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 361
order of the country, that the command of the militia
did not belong to the King, that he could not refuse
his sanction to bills desired by the people, that the
Houses of ParHament, without his concurrence, had the
right to declare what was the law, and finally, that it
was good and lawful to solicit by petitions the altera-
tion of existing customs or statutes, but that every
petition for their maintenance should be rejected as
unnecessary.' Notwithstanding the uncertainty and
diversity of ancient examples, maxims such as these,
if converted into public and permanent law, were evi-
dently contrary to the historical foundations, the
regular state, and even the very existence, of monar-
chy. The King hastened to take advantage of this.
In his turn, he spoke in the name of Old England, her
laws, and recollections. Able and learned champions
undertook to maintain his cause. Edward Hyde, who
was still in London, prepared, sometimes single-handed,
and sometimes in concert with Lord Falkland, answers
to all the publications of the Parhament. Transmitted
to York, in all haste, by secret messengers, these
documents were delivered to the King alone, who
spent whole nights in copying them with his own
hand, that no one might know their author, and after-
wards published them in the name of his Council.^
Written with great skill and clearness, sometimes even
with cutting irony, they aimed more especially to
reveal the subtle intrigues, the artifices, and the ille-
gality of the pretensions, of the Parliament. Charles
' Clarendon's History of the Eebellion, vol. ii. pp. 404 — 408 ; Parlia-
mentary History, vol. ii. col. 1140.
* Clarendon's Life, vol. i. pp. 123, 124 ; Warwick's Memoirs, p. 209.
862 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
no longer governed ; he had no actual tyranny to
defend ; he could be silent as to his secret principles,
his ultimate designs, and his despotic hopes, and could
invoke the law, in his turn, against his enemies, who
had now become the reigning despots. So great was
the effect of these royal publications that the ParHa-
ment used every effort to suppress them, whilst the
King printed the messages of the Parliament on the
same sheet with his answers.' The royalist party
visibly increased ; it ere long grew bold, and turned
the weapons of Hberty against its adversaries, George
Benyon, a rich city merchant, addressed a petition to
Parhament against the ordinance respecting the
militia, and many influential citizens signed it with
him.^ The gentlemen of Kent met to adopt one in
favour of prerogative and episcopacy ; several members
of Parliament, among others Sir Edward Dering, who
first introduced the bill against the bishops, openly
encouraged these proceedings.^ The royalist pamphlets
enjoyed a wide circulation, and met with great favour;
they were frequently haughty, and written with a tone
of elegant and disdainful superiority ; even among the
people, abuse of the leaders of the Commons found
welcome and credence : so the pamphlets spoke with
derisive scorn of " King Pym," and the " sugar-loaves "
which he had formerly received as a present, and of
the " ten thousand pounds of the King's money,"
which, it was said, he had just given his daughter as a
' Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 751.
^ Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 1150.
^ At the Maidstone Assizes. Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1147.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 3G3
marriage-portion ; and of the cowardice of the Earl of
Warwick, " whose heart was in his boots ;" and a
thousand other coarse insults, which, a short time
before, no one would have cared to repeat, or even
to hear.^ In the Parliament also, the King's friends
acted with greater pride and susceptibility ; men who
had previously been silent, such as Sir Ealph Hopton
and Lord Herbert, haughtily repelled all insinuations
offensive to his honour. It was clear that, in the eyes
of many persons, his cause was assuming a favourable
aspect, and that they would uphold it in case of need,
for they no longer hesitated to avow it. ParHament
took the alarm ; the self-love of the leaders was
wounded; long used to enjoy popularity, they could
not patiently endure insult and contempt, and it
irritated them to think that, in this paper warfare,
their enemies seemed to have the advantage. Accord-
ingly, they resolved, as much from ill-humour as from
motives of policy, to meet this new danger with
tyranny. All freedom of discussion ceased ; Sir Ealph
Hopton was sent to the Tower ;^ Lord Herbert
was censured and threatened ;^ George Benyon and Sir
Edward Dering were impeached ;^ and the petition from
the county of Kent was set aside.^ A report was spread
that it was to be renewed; Cromwell hastened to
communicate this to the Commons, and received in-
structions to take measures to prevent the recurrence
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 1164, 1405.
* Ibid., vol. ii.col. 1118. ^ Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1242.
* Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 1149, 1188. ' Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1147.
364 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
of the danger.^ Making as yet but little figure in the
House, though abeady more skilled and more deeply
involved than any other in the intrigues of the revo-
lution, it was in these external duties of exciting the
people, and of watching, denouncing, and frustrating
the royalists, that his activity and influence were at
this time employed.
An immediate war was no longer doubtful ; the two
parties could no longer live together, or even sit
within the same walls. Every day members of Par-
Kament left London, some retiring in disgust or alarm
to their estates, others proceeding elsewhere to seek
new weapons against their enemies, far from a town
where they felt themselves defeated. Most of them
repaired to the King, who had already been joined by
nearly all his councillors.^ An unexpected incident
occurred to quicken this emigration, and irrevocably to
sunder the two parties. On the 23rd of April, the
King, at the head of three hundi-ed horse, advanced
towards Hull, and required Sir John Hotham, the
governor, to deliver the town into his hands. Weak
and irresolute, moved by no bitter animosity against
the Crown, and unprovided with instructions for the
regulation of his conduct in such an emergency, Sir
John, in a state of the utmost perplexity, sent to
beseech the King to wait until he had informed the
ParHament of his demand. But Charles still advanced,
and appeared beneath the walls at eleven o'clock. He
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 1 194.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 538 ; May's History
of the Long Parliament, p. 176.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 365
had already opened communications witli the town :
on the previous evening, his son James, Duke of York,
his nephew the Count Palatine, and Lord Newport,
had entered Hull under the pretext of spending a day
there. The mayor and several of the citizens were
proceeding towards the gates to give the king admis-
sion, when Hotham ordered them to return home, and,
accompanied by his officers, went to the ramparts.
There the King in person summoned him to admit
him. Sir John fell on his knees, and with great
anguish begged pardon for refusing to do so, on the
ground of the oath he had taken to keep the place at
the disposal of the Parliament. Violent mui-murs
arose among the Cavaliers who surrounded the King ;
they threatened Sir John, calling him a rebel and
traitor. " Kill him !" they cried to the officers of the
garrison ; " throw him over the wall !" But it was the
officers who had induced the governor to resist. In
vain did Charles himself attempt to intimidate or
cajole them : after a long parley, he withdrew, but to
a short distance only, and in an hour's time, sent to
request Sir John to admit him alone, with twenty
horse. Sir John refused this also. " If his person
had been in but with half that number," he wrote to
the Parliament, " I should have been noways master
of the town." The King returned to the foot of the
ramparts, ordered Hotham and his adherents to be
proclaimed traitors, and on the same day addressed a
message to Parliament, to demand j ustice for such an
outrageous insult.^
' Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 383 ; Rushworth,
366 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
The Parliament justified all their governor had
done, and rephed to the King that the town and
arsenals were not personal property of which he could
claim possession in virtue of the law, as a citizen might
claim his houses or lands ; but that they were merely
given him in trust for the safety of the realm, and that
the same cause might authorise the Parliament to seize
them for the public advantage.^ The answer was frank
and legitimate, but it was equivalent to a declaration
of war. It was regarded as such by both parties.
Thirty -two lords and more than sixty members of the
House of Commons, Mr. Hyde among others, set out
for York." The Earls of Essex and Holland, the
former of whom was Lord Chamberlain, and the other
first gentleman of the bed-chamber, received orders
from the King to join him, for he was desirous to
secure their persons, and to deprive the Parliament of
their support. With the sanction of the House of
Peers, they refused to obey, and lost their offices.^
Lord Chancellor Littleton, after long and pusillanimous
part iii. vol. i. p. 567 ; Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 1197, in wliich
wiU be found the letter from Hotham to the Parliament relating the
occurrence.
' Parhamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 1188, 1193, 1204, 1209.
'^ May's History of the Long Parhament, p. 175 ; Clarendon's Life,
vol. i. pp. 135—146. On the 16th of June, 1642, the House of Com-
mons was called over, and sixty-five members were found to be absent
without any known and legitimate excuse ; it was proposed that they
should iiot be allowed to resume their seats until they had justified
their absence, and this motion was carried by a majority of fifty-five
votes ; it was also proposed that a fine of 201. should be imposed upon
them, but this proposition was rejected by a majoi'ity of twenty-one
votes. — Parhamentary History, vol. ii. col. 1373.
^ Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 163 ; Parliamentary
History, vol. ii. cols. 1171 — 1173.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 867
hesitation, sent the great seal to the King, and escaped
himself on the following day.^ This produced a great
sensation in London, for legal government seemed
inseparably connected with the possession of the great
seal. The Upper House seemed ill at ease, and almost
ready to give way. But the energy of the Commons
prevented all indecision. The absent members were
twice summoned to resume their seats ;^ on the formal
refusal of nine lords to do so, prosecutions were insti-
tuted against them ;^ all citizens were forbidden to
take arms at the King's command;^ instructions were
sent into all the counties to direct the organization of
the mihtia ;^ and in many places it had already been
formed and exercised spontaneously. The transfer of
the military stores from Hull to London was ordered,
and effected in spite of all obstacles.^ The King had
commanded that the Westminster assizes should be
transferred to York, in order that he might concentrate
the entire legal government at the place of liis re-
sidence ; but the Parliament opposed tliis, and its orders
were obeyed.' Finally, the Commons appointed a com-
mittee to negociate a loan in the City, without specifying
the object to which the money was to be applied;^ and
Commissioners were despatched to York, all of them
wealthy and influential gentlemen of that county, with
orders to reside near the King, whatever he might say
' Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. ii. pp. 487 — 502.
* Parliamentaiy History, vol. ii. cols. 1296, 1327.
» Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1368. * Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1235.
* Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1.328. « Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1319.
7 Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1233. « Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1323.
368 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
to the contrary, and to send a report to Parliament of
all tliat occurred within th^ir observation.^
The firmness of the Commissioners was equal to the
perilous character of their mission. " Gentlemen," said
the King to them, on their arrival, " why have you
come here ? I command you to depart. If you will
positively disobey me, and stay here, I would advise
you not to make any party, or hinder my service in the
country ; for, if you do, I will clap you up." ~ They
answered respectfully, but remained, exposed daily to
insult and frequently to threats, rarely at liberty to go
out, but acting secretly, observing all that passed, and
sending full information to the Parliament. The
movement was, comparatively, as great at York as in
London : the King was beginning to raise a guard ;
but as he did not dare imperiously to require this
service, he had called together the gentlemen of the
neighbom'hood, in the hope of obtaining it from their
zeal. The meeting was numerous and animated;^
prolonged acclamations greeted the King's words; and
the Commissioners of the Parliament were received
with hissings and hootings. But, on the same day,
there arrived at York several thousand freeholders and
farmers, who had carefully been excluded from the
' Parliamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 1206, 1210—1212. These Com-
missioners were the Lords Howard and Fairfax, Sir Hugh Cholmon-
deley. Sir Henry Cholmondeley, and Sir Philip Stapletou.
* See the letter from the Committee at York to the Parliament, in
the Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 1222 ; Clarendon's History of
the Eebellion, vol. ii. p. 423.
^ May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 171 ; Clarendon's History
of the Rebellion, vol. ii. p. 429.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 369
invitation to tlie meeting ; they had, they said, as much
right as the gentlemen to dehberate on the affairs of the
country, and they presented themselves at the door of
the room in which the royalists were assembled. They
were refused admittance ; and accordingly, they held a
meeting elsewhere, and protested against the measures
which they had heard were to be adopted by the
gentry. Even these were divided ; — when the propo-
sition was made for levying a guard, more than fifty
gentlemen signed a protest against it ; at their head
was Sir Thomas Fairfax,^ yo^ig and unknown as yet,
but already one of the most courageous and sincere
patriots the country could boast. ^ Charles was in-
timidated, and announced a second meeting, to which
all the freeholders were to be invited ; the Commis-
sioners of the Parliament were forbidden to attend it ;
but it was held on Heyworth Moor, near their resi-
dence, and their friends came to them continually for
advice and encouragement. More than forty thousand
men were present, gentlemen, freeholders, farmers,
and townspeople, on foot and horseback, some stand-
ing in groups, others walking about over the moor, to
speak to their friends and rally them together. Ere
long the Cavaliers perceived that a petition was cir-
culating, the pui'port of which was to beseech the
King to banish all thouglits of war, and to come to an
understanding with his Parliament. They burst into
invectives and menaces, riding violently among the
' Born in January, 1611, at Denton, in Yorkshire.
* Letter from the Committee at York to the Parliament, May 13,
1642 ; Pariiamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 1226—1233.
VOL. I. 2 15
370 HISTORY OF (HAELES THE FIRST
groups, snatching the copies of the petition from those
who were reading it, and declaring that the King
should not receive it.^ Charles arrived, in great
embarrassment and ill-humour, not knowing what to
say to the multitude, whose presence and enthusiasm
had already offended his impolitic gravity. After
reading an equivocal declaration, he was about to
retire in all haste, to avoid any protest, when young
Fairfax succeeded in getting near him, fell suddenly
on his knees, and laid the petition on the pommel of
his saddle, thus braving, even at his feet, the anger
of the King, who urged his horse rouglily against him,
but in vain, in order to force him to withch'aw.^
So much boldness in presence of the King, in the
county most thoroughly devoted to his cause, inti-
midated the Eoyalists, especially those who had
recently arrived from London, with their minds im-
pressed with a sense of the power and energy of the
Parliament. It was already a great deal, they
thought, to have given their prince a perilous proof of
their zeal, by coming to join him ; — they had no
desire to compromise themselves more deeply ; and,
once arrived at York, they proved themselves unen-
thusiastic and timid.^ Charles demanded from them a
declaration of the motives which had constrained them
' Sixth letter from the Committee at York to the Parhament, June
4, 1642 ; Letter from Sir John Bovirchier, who was pi-esent at the meet-
ing on Heyworth Moor, to his cousin. Sir Thomas Barrington, a member
of the House of Commons ; Parhamcntary History, vol. ii. cols. 1345 —
^ Carte'.s Life of Ormond, vol. i. p. 357.
^ Clarendon's History of tlie Rebellion, vol. iii. p. 81 — 84.
AND THE EXCtLISH REVOLUTION. 371
to leave London ; he wanted it in order to prove that,
after all the acts of riot and violence which had been
perpetrated, the ParHament, being no longer free, had
also ceased to be legal. They signed it ; but, on the
following day, several of them told the King that, if
he pubhshed it, they would be obliged to disavow it.
" What do you expect me to do with it, then ? " asked
Charles, angrily ; but they persisted, and the declara-
tion did not appear.^ Notwithstanding the concourse
and bravadoes of the Cavahers, nothing was done ; on
the contrary, money, arms, ammunition, and even pro-
visions, were aU wanting at York ; the King scarcely
had the means of supplying his table, and meeting the
ordinary expenses of his household.^ The Queen had
sold some of the Crown jewels in Holland ; but so
great was the power of the tlireats of the ParHament,
that a long time elapsed before she could find means to
transmit the proceeds to the King.^ He forbade all
his subjects to obey the ordinance respecting the
militia,^ and gave, under his own hand, commissions
to the Eoyahst leaders, in each county, to raise and
organize it in his name.^ But, immediately, in order
to diminish the effect of this measure, he protested that
he had no idea of making war ; and the Lords present
at York declared, by an official manifesto, which was
* Clarendon's History of the Eebellion, vol. iii. pp. 67 — 69.
* Ibid., vol. iii. pp. 101, 102.
3 Ibid., vol. iii. p. 102.
■* Rusbworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 550.
* The first commission of this sort was given to Lord Hastings for
Leicestershire, and is dated on the 11th of June, 1G42. — Rushworth,
part iii. vol. i. pp. 655 — 658.
2 B 2
'672 IIISTOIIV OF CHARLES THE FIRST
carefully circulated, that, as far as they knew, no prepa-
rations or proceedings on his part announced any such
intention/ All this indecision and falsehood was not
occasioned by weakness alone : since the arrival of the
deserters from the Parliament, Charles had been a prey
to the most conflicting counsels ; feehng convinced
that their surest strength resided in the popular respect
for legal order, the lawyers, magistrates, and all the
more sensible men advised him, henceforward, by a
strict observance of the laws, to throw on the Parlia-
ment alone the discredit of violating them ; while the
Cavahers exclaimed, on the other hand, that delay
was ruining all their prospects, and that, under all
circumstances, it was best to anticij)ate the enemy ;
and Charles, unable to do without the support of either
opinion, endeavoured, by turns, to satisfy them both.
The position of the Parliament, on the contrary,
had become greatly simplified; the withdrawal of so
large a number of royahst members had left the revo-
lutionary leaders in the undisputed possession of power ;
some voices were still raised in opposition, but they
were reduced to the melancholy task of deploring and
warning ; scarcely any one took the trouble to reply to
them. A decided majority, considering war inevitable,
had boldly made up their minds to accept it, although
with very different views and feelings. To keep up
appearances, a committee was appointed to devise
' This declaration, dated on the 15th of June, 1642, was signed by
forty-five lords or members of the Privy Council. Parliamentary His-
tory, vol. ii. cols. 1373 — 1375 ; Clarendon's History of the Rebellion'
vol. iii. pp. 71, 72.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 373
means for preventing it ; ^ propositions of accommoda-
tion, in nineteen articles, were even prepared and
formally communicated to the King." But while
awaiting his answer, care was taken to suppress every
petition that was favourable to the maintenance of
peace ; ^ and military preparations were openly and
vigorously pushed forward. Charles had offered to go
in person to repress the rebellion in Ireland, which
every day became more violent ; his offer was rejected.^
He refused to appoint Lord Warwick, whom the
Commons had recommended, to the command of the
fleet ; Warwick assumed the office in spite of his
refusal.^ Sir Richard Gourney, the Lord Mayor, had
not hesitated to publish in London the King's com-
mission, ordering that the militia should be raised for
his service and in his name ; he was impeached, sent
to the Tower, dismissed from his office, and Alderman
Pennington, a zealous Puritan, was appointed in his
stead.® The City advanced a hundred thousand
pounds ;' a similar sum was taken from the funds
intended for the relief of Ireland;^ a subscription was
' Parliamentaiy History, vol. ii. col. 1 31 9.
"■' Ibid., vol. ii. cols. 1324, 1327 ; May's History of the Long Parlia-
ment, p. 189.
* Among others, a petition prepared at the beginning of June, in
Somersetshire. Parliamentary History, vol. ii. col. 1366,
* Parhamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 1169, 1172.
' May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 209 ; Parliamentary His-
tory, vol. ii. cols. 1164, 1165.
^ Parhamentary History, vol. ii. cols. 1203, 1403, 1452 ; State Trials,
vol. iv. col. 159.
" Parhamentary History, vol. ii. col. 1328.
^ May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 231 ; Parliamentary His-
tory, vol. ii. cols. 1443 — 1448.
374 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
opened in both Houses, and eacli member was called
upon in liis turn, and requested to state liis intentions.
Some refused to do so : " If there be occasion," said
Sir Henry Killigrew, " I will provide a good horse and
a good sword, and make no question but I shall find a
good cause." But he left London immediately, for
after such a speech, he could not have passed through
the streets without being exposed to insult and
danger.^ The ardour of the people had reached its
climax ; but, both in the City and at Westminster, the
departure of the Royahst members had filled their
adlierents with despondency. The Parhament made
an ajDpeal to the patriotism of tlie citizens ; money,
plate, and jewels, were all put in requisition for the
equipment of a few squadrons of cavalry, and interest
at eight per cent, was promised. The pulpits re-
sounded with the exhortations of the preachers ; and
the result surpassed even the demands of the most
passionate, and the expectations of the most confident.
During ten days, an immense quantity of plate was
brought to Guildhall — so much, indeed, that there were
not men enough to receive it, or room enough to hold
it ; poor women brought their wedding rings, and the
gold or silver pins with which they fastened their hair ;
and many of them had to wait a very long while
before their offerings could be taken from their hands. ^
Informed of this success on the part of the Commons,
Charles resolved to try the same method of raising
' Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. iii. p. 63.
^ May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 212; Clarendon's History
of the Eebellion, vol. iii. p. fJ2 : Wliitelnckc, p. 61.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 375
funds ; but enthusiasm is not easily convertible, and
popular devotedness can alone supply the necessities
of a cause. The University of Oxford sent its plate to
the King ; following the example, Cambridge also had
its plate packed up, and a portion of it had already
been sent off, v^hen Cromvi^ell, ever vigilant, arrived
suddenly, and prevented any more being despatched, i
The King's Commissioners had the greatest difficulty
in obtaining a few paltry contributions by going from
one country-seat to anotlier ; and ridicule of the
niggards, an empty and dangerous pleasure to a de-
feated Court, was the only consolation left to the
Cavaliers.^
The propositions for accommodation reached York,
and were presented to the King, on the ITtli of June ;
they surpassed the predictions of even the most ultra
RoyaHsts, and deprived the more moderate of all hope.
The Parliament demanded the utter destruction of the
royal prerogative, and that the entire power should
rest in their hands ; the creation of new peerages, the
appointment and dismissal of all great public function-
aries, the education and marriage of the King's children,
the religious, civil, and military aifairs of the country
■ — everything, in fact, was to be under their control,
and without their formal sanction, nothing was in future
to be decided. Such was, in reality, their true object^
' May's History of the Long Parliament, p. 222 ; Parlianientai-y His-
tory, vol. ii. col. 1453 ; Querela Cantabrigiensis, p. 182 ; Barwick's Life;
p. 24 ; Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. iii. p. 246.
* Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, vol. iii. p. 247 — 2r>l ; May's
History of the Long Pai'lianient, p. 212.
376 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
and such was one day destined to be the irretrievable
result of the revolution ; but the time had not yet
arrived when the decisive action of the Parliament in
the government was to be introduced by the natural
working of the national institutions, and the dominant,
though indirect, influence of the Commons on the
daily exercise of power. Unable to force their leaders
on the Crown as indispensable advisers, the national
party found themselves constrained officially to subject
the Crown to their sway, as they could obtain safety
by no other means ; a deceptive and impossible me-
thod, calculated only to plunge the State into anarchy,
but yet the only one which the ablest men could
then devise. When these propositions were read, the
King's eyes flashed with anger, and his countenance
burned with indignation. " Should we grant these
demands," he said in reply, " we may be waited on
bareheaded ; we may have our hand kissed, the style
of Majesty continued to us, and The Kings authority,
declared hy both Houses of Parliament, may be still the
style of our commands ; we may have swords and
maces carried before us, and please ourself with the
sight of a crown and sceptre, (and yet even these twigs
would not long flourish, when the stock upon which
they grew was dead) ; but as to true and real power,
we should remain but the outside, but the picture, but
the sign, of a king."^ And he broke off all further
negociation.
The Parliament had expected no other answer. As
' Rushworth, part iii. vol. i. p. 728.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. '617
soon as it was received, all hesitation even of a merely
formal character disappeared ; the question of civil war
was brought forward for discussion. One voice, —
the same which, at the oj)ening of the session, had
been the first to denounce aU public grievances, — was
now raised almost alone in opposition. " Mr. Speaker,"
said Sir Benjamin Rudyard, " I am touched, I am
pierced with an apprehension of the honour of the
House, and success of the ParKament ; but that we
may the better consider the condition we are in, let us
set ourselves three years back. If any man then
could have credibly told us that, within three years,
the Queen shall be gone out of England into the Low
Countries, for any cause whatsoever ; the King shall
remove from his Parliament, from London to York,
declaring himself not to be safe here ; that there shall
be a total rebellion in Ireland, and such discords and
distempers both in Church and State here, as now we
find — certainly we should have trembled at the thought
of it ; wherefore it is fit we should be sensible now we
are in it. On the other side, if any man then could
have credibly told us that, within three years, ye shall
have a Parhament, it would have been good news ;
that ship-money shall be taken away by an Act of
Parliament, and the reasons and grounds of it so
rooted out, as that neither it, nor anything like it, can
ever grow up again ; that monopohes, the High Com-
mission Court, the Star-Chamber, the bishops' votes,
shall be taken away ; the council-table regulated and
restrained ; the forests bounded and hmited ; — that ye
shall have a triennial Parhament, nav, more than that.
378 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST
a perpetual Parliament, which none shall have the
power to dissolve but yourselves ; we should have
thought this a dream of happiness. Yet now we
are in the real possession of it, we do not enjoy it.
We stand upon further security, whereas the very
having of these things is a convenient, fair security,
mutually securing one another. Wherefore, Sir, let us
beware we do not contend for such a hazardous, unsafe
security as may endanger the loss of what we have
already. Though we had all we desire, yet we cannot
make a mathematical security ; all human caution is
susceptible of corruption and failing. God's providence
will not be bound ; success must be His . . . Mr.
Speaker, it now behoves us to call up all the wisdom
we have about us, for we are at the very brink of
combustion and confusion. If blood begins once to
touch blood, we shall presently fall into a certain
misery, and must attend an uncertain success, God
knows when, and God knows what ! Every man here
is bound in conscience to employ his utmost endeavours
to prevent the effusion of blood. Blood is a crying
sin ; it pollutes a land. Let us save our liberties and
our estates, but so as we may save our souls too. Now
I have clearly delivered my own conscience, I leave
every man freely to his."^ The appeal made by this
worth}^ man was, however, in vain, and nothing re-
mained for liim but to retire from an arena hencefortli
too agitated for liis virtuous and prudent mind. Other
previsions and otlier fears, equally well founded,
' ParliaineiitaiT History, vol. ii. cols. 1416 — 1418.
AND THE ENGLISH REVOLUTION. 379
although allied to passions less pure and more unre-
flecting, ruled the national party with imperious sway ;
and the time had come when good and evil, safety and
peril, were so vaguely commingled and confounded that
the firmest minds, unable to distinguish between them,
were merely instruments in the hands of Providence,
which alternately chastises kings by means of peoples,
and peoples by means of kings. Only forty-five mem-
bers of the Commons shared in the scruples of Sir
Benjamin Eudyard ;^ and in the House of Peers, the
Earl of Portland alone protested.^ Warlike measures
were at once adopted ; the Parliament seized upon all
the public revenues for its own service -^ the counties
were ordered to provide supplies of arms and ammu-
nition, and to hold themselves in readiness to obey the
first signal. Under the name of the Committee of Safety,
five peers and ten members of the House of Commons
were appointed to " take measures for the pubHc de-
fence, and to see to the execution of the orders issued
by Parliament."^ Finally, the formation of an army
was resolved upon, to consist of twenty regiments of
infantry of about a thousand men each, and of seventy-
five troops, each of sixty horse. Lord Kimbolton,
' The levy of 10,000 volunteers in London was voted in the House of
Commons by 12.1 votes against 45. Parliamentary History, vol. ii.
col. 1409.
- Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1414.
* Ibid., vol. ii. col. 1349.
* The five lords were the Earls of Northumberland, Essex, Pembroke,
Holland, and Viscount Say ; the ten Commoners were Hampden, Pym,
HoUis, Marty n, Fiennes, Pierrepoint, Glynn, Sir William Waller, Sir
Philip Stapleton, and Sir John JMerrick.
380 HISTORY OF CHARLES THE FIRST.
Lord Brooke, Sir John Merrick, Hampden, Hollis,
and Cromwell, leaders of the people in the camp as well
as at Westminster, received commands in this army.
The Earl of Essex was appointed Generalissimo.^
' An exact and complete list of the commanders of this truly
national army will be found in Appendix VIII.
APPENDIX.
( 383 )
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX I.
(Page 137.)
SYMPTOMS OF THE SPIRIT OF OPPOSITION AND LIBERTY IN THE
REIGN OF QUEEN ELIZABETH.
In the month of November, 1575, Mr. Peter Wentworth, a
member of the House of Commons, having made a speech in
defence of the privileges of the House, and more especially in
advocacy of liberty of speech, was arrested by order of the
Queen, and was subjected, by a committee of the House, on
which sat several privy councillors, to the following examina-
tion — a curious record of the spirit of independence which
began to manifest itself at this time, and of the approbation
which the very men intrusted with the task of repressing it,
could not refuse to accord to it.
Committee. Where is your late speech you promised to
deliver in writing ?
Wentworth. Here it is, and I deliver it upon two condi-
tions : first, that you shall peruse it all, and if you can find
any want of good will to my prince and state in any part
thereof, let me answer all as if I had uttered all. The second
is, that you shall deliver it unto the Queen's Majesty ; if her
Majesty, or you of her privy council, can find any want of love
to her Majesty or the State therein, also let me answer it.
Committee. We will deal with no more than you uttered
in the House.
Wentworth. Your honours cannot refuse to deliver it to
her Majesty, for I do send it to her Majesty as my heart and
mind, knowing that it will do her Majesty good ; it will hurt
no man but myself.
384 APPENDIX.
Committee. Seeing your desire is to have us deliver it to her
Majesty, we will deliver it.
Wentworth. I humbly require your honours to do so.
[Then, the speech being read, they went on.]
Committee. Here you have uttered certain rumours of the
Queen's Majesty : where and when heard you them?
Wentworth. If your honours ask me as councillors of her
Majesty, you shall pardon me ; I will make you no answer.
I will do no such injury to the place from whence I came, for
I am now no private person ; I am a public, and a councillor
to the whole State in that place, where it is lawful for me to
speak my mind freely, and not for you, as councillors, to call
me to account for anything that I do speak in the House ;
and therefore if you ask me as councillors to her Majesty, you
shall pardon me, I will make no answer : but if you ask me
as committees from the House, I will make you the best
answer I can.
Committee. We ask you as committees from the House.
Wentworth. I will then answer you ; and the willinger
for that mine answer will be in some part so imperfect, as of
necessity it must be. Your question consisteth of these two
points : where and of whom I heard these rumours. The
place where I heard them was the Parliament House ; but of
whom I assure you I cannot tell.
Committee. This is no answer, to say you cannot tell of
whom, neither will we take it for any.
Wentworth. Truly your honours must needs take it for an
answer when I can make you no better.
Committee. Belike you have heard some speeches in the
town of her Majesty's misliking of religion and succession,
you are loth to utter of whom, and did use speeches there-
upon.
Wentworth. I can assure your honours I can show you
that speech at my own house, written with my hand two or
three years ago. So that you may thereby judge that I did
not speak it of anything that I heard since I came to town.
Committee. You have answered that, but where heard you
it then ?
Wentworth. If your honours do think I speak for excuse'
APPENDIX. 385
sake, let this satisfy you : I protest before the living God I
cannot tell of whom I heard these rumours ; yet I do verily
think that I heard them of a hundred or two in the House.
Committee. Then of so many you can name some.
We NT WORTH. No, surely, because it was so general a
speech, I marked none ; neither do men mark speakers com-
monly when they be general ; and I assure you if I could tell,
I would not. For I will never utter anything told me to the
hurt of any man, when I am not enforced thereunto, as in
this case I may choose. Yet I would deal plainly with you,
for I would tell your honours so, and if your honours do not
credit me, I will voluntarily take an oath, if you offer me a
book, that I cannot tell of whom I heard those rumours. But
if you offer me an oath of your authorities, I will refuse it,
because I will do nothing to infringe the liberties of the
House. But what need I to use these speeches ? I will give
you an instance, whereupon I heard these rumours to your
satisfying, even such a one as, if you will speak the truth, you
shall confess you heard the same as well as I.
Committee. In so doing we will be satisfied : what is that?
Wextworth. The last Parhament [1 8th Eliz.], he that is
now Speaker [Robert Bell, Esq.], and who was also Speaker
in the first session of the present Parliament [14th Eliz.],
uttered a very good speech for the calling in of certain licences
granted to four courtiers to the utter undoing of 6000 or 8000
of the Queen's subjects. This speech was so disliked by some
of the council that he was sent for, and so hardly dealt with,
that he came into the House with such an amazed counte-
nance, that it daunted all the House ; in such sort, that for
ten, twelve, or sixteen days, there was not one in the House
that durst deal in any matter of importance. And in those
simple matters that they dealt in, they spent more words and
time in their preamble, requiring that they might not be mis-
taken, than they did in the matter they spake unto. This
inconvenience grew into the House by the council's hard
handling of the same good member, whereon this rumour
grew in the house : " Sirs, you may not speak against
licences, the Queen's Majesty will be angry ; the privy council,
too, will be angry ;" and this rumour T suppose there is not
VOL. I. 2 C
386 APPENDIX.
one of you here but heard it as well as I. I beseech your
honours discharge your consciences herein as I do.
Committee, We heard it, we confess, and you have satis-
fied us in this ; but how say you to the hard interpretation
you made of the message that was sent into the house. [The
words were recited.] We assure you we never heard a harder
interpretation of a message.
Wentwokth. I beseech your honours first, was there not
such a message sent into the house ?
Committee. We grant that there was.
Wentworth. Then I trust you will bear me record that I
made it not ; and I answer for that, so hard a message could
not have too hard an interpretation made by the wisest man
in England. For can there, by any possible means, be sent a
harder message to a council gathered together to serve God,
than to say : "You shall not seek to advance the glory of
God !" I am of this opinion ; — that there cannot be a more
wicked message than it was.
Committee. You may not speak against messages, for none
sendeth them but the Queen's majesty.
Wentworth. If the message be against the glory of God,
against the prince's safety, or against the liberty of this Par-
liament house, whereby the State is maintained, I neither may
nor will hold my jDoace. I cannot, in so doing, discharge my
conscience, whosoever doth send it. And I say, that I
heartily repent me, for that I have hitherto held my peace in
these causes ; and I do promise you all, if God forsake me not,
that I will never, during life, hold my tongue if any message
is sent wherein God is dishonoured, the prince reviled, or the
liberties of the Parliament impeached ; and every one of you
here present ought to repent you of these faults, and to amend
them.
Committee. It is no new precedent to have the prince to
send messages. [There were two or three messages recited
sent by two or three princes.]
Wentworth. Sirs, I say you do very ill to allege prece-
dents in this order. You ought to allege good precedents, to
comfort and embolden men in good doings, and not evil prece-
dents, to discourage and terrify men to do evil.
APPENDIX. 387
Committee, But what meant you to make so hard inter-
pretation of messages ?
Wentworth. Surely, I marvel what you mean by asking
this question. Have I not said so hard a message could not
have too hard an interpretation ? And have I not set down
the reason that moved me in my speech? — that is to say,
that, for the receiving and accepting that message, God has
passed so great indignation upon us, that he put into the
Queen's heart to refuse good and wholesome laws for her own
preservation, which caused many loving and faithful hearts
for grief to burst out with sorrowful tears ; and moved all
Papists, traitors to God, to her Majesty, and to every good
Christian government, in their sleeves, to laugli the whole
Parliament-house to scorn. Have I not thus said, and do not
your honours think it so ?
Committee. Yes, truly. But how durst you say, that the
Queen had unkindly abused herself against the nobility and
people ?
Wentworth. I beseech your honours, tell me how far
you can stretch these words, of her unkindly abusing and
opposing herself against her Majesty's nobility and people?
Can you apply them any further than I have applied them —
that is to say, in that her Majesty called the Parliament on
purpose to prevent traitorous perils to lier person, and for
no other cause ; and in that her Majesty did send unto us two
bills, willing us to take our choice of that we liked best for
her Majesty's safety, and thereof to make a law, promising her
royal consent thereunto ; and did we not first choose the one,
and her Majesty refused it? Yet did not we, nevertheless^
receive the other? and agreeing to make a law thereof, did
not her Majesty in the end refuse all our travails ? And did
not the Lord Keeper, in her Majesty's presence, in the begin-
ning of the Parliament, show this to be the occasion that we
were called together? And did not her Majesty, in the end
of the Parliament, refuse all our travails ? Is not this known
to all here present, and to all the Parliament-house also ? I
beseech your honours discharge your consciences herein, and
utter your knowledge simply as I do ; for, in truth, herein did
her Majesty abuse her nobility and subjects, and did oppose
herself against them by the way of advice.
2 c 2
388 APPENDIX.
COMMi'JTEE, Surely, we cannot deny it, you say the truth.
Wp:ntworth. Then, I beseech your honours, show me if
it were not a dangerous doing to her Majesty in these two
respects : first, in weakening, wounding, and discouraging the
hearts of her Majesty's loving and faithful subjects, thereby to
make them the less able, or the more fearful and unwilling, to
serve her Majesty another time ? On the other side, was it
not a raising up and encouraging the hearts of her Majesty's
hateful enemies to adventure any desperate enterprise to her
Majesty's peril and danger.
Committee. We cannot deny but that it was very danger-
ous to her Majesty in these respects.
Wentworth. Then, why do your honours ask, how I dare
tell a truth, to give the Queen warning to avoid her danger ?
I answer you thus ; — I do thank the Lord, my God, that I
never found fear in myself to give the Queen's Majesty warn-
ing to avoid her danger ; be you all afraid thereof, if you will,
for I praise God I am not, and I hojoe never to live to see that
day ; and yet I will assure your honours, that twenty times and
more, when I walked in my grounds, revolving this speech, to
prepare against this day, my own fearful conceit did say unto
me, that this speech would carry me to the place whither I
shall now go, and fear would have moved me to put it out ;
when I weighed whether in good conscience, and the duty of a
faithful subject, I might keep myself out of prison and not
warn my prince of walking in a dangerous course, my con-
science said unto me that I could not be a faithful subject if
1 had more respect to avoid my own danger than my prince's
danger. Therewithal, I was made Ijold, and went forward, as
your honours heard ; yet, when 1 uttered those words in the
House, that there was none without fault, no, not our noble
Queen, 1 paused, and beheld all your countenances, and saw
plainly that those words did amaze you all ; then I was afraid
with you for company, and fear bade me to put out those
words that followed, for your countenances did assure me, that
not one of you would stay me of my journey ; yet the consi-
deration of a good conscience, and of a faithful subject, did make
me bold to utter it in such sort as your honours heard. With
this heart and mind I spake it; and I piaise God for it ; and, if
it were to do again, I would with the same miud speak it again.
APPENDIX. 389
Committee. Yea, but you might have uttered it in better
terms : why did you not so ?
Wentwortii. Would you have me to have done as you of
her Majesty's council do, to utter a weighty matter in such
terms as she should not have understood. To have made a
fault then, it would have done her Majesty no good, and my
interest was to do her good.
Committee. You have answered us.
Wentwortii. Then I praise God for it.
And he bowed.
Mr. Seckford. Mr. Wentworth will never acknowledge
himself to make a fault, nor say that he is sorry for anything
he doth speak. You shall hear none of these things come out
of his mouth.
Wextworth. Mr. Seckford, I will never acknowlede'e
that to be a fault to love the Queen's Majesty while I live ;
neither will I be sorry for giving her Majesty warning to
avoid danger, while the breath is in my body. If you do
think it a fault to love her Majesty, or to be sorry that her
Majesty should have warning to avoid her danger, say so, for
I cannot ; speak for yourself, Mr. Seckford. — Old Parlia-
mentary History, vol. iv. pp, 200 — 207.
APPENDIX II.
(Page 169.)
PAPER FOUND IN THE HAT OF FELTOX, THE MURDERER OF
THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
The original paper still exists ; and was first published ver-
batim by Mr. Lingard in his History. It is as follows : —
"That man is Cowardly base, and deserveth not the
name of a gentleman or Souldier that is not willinge to
sacrifice his life for the honor of his God, his King, and his
Countrie. Lett noe man commend me for doeinge of it, l)ut
rather discommend themselves as the cause of it ; for if God
had not taken ovr harts for ovr sinnes, he (the Duke of
Buckingham) w** not have gone so long vnpunished."
" Jo. Felton."
— lAnyarcVs History of EnylaiHl, vol. ix. p. 394.
390 APPENDIX.
APPENDIX III.
(Page 185.)
CHARACTER OF LORD STRAFFORD'S ADMINISTRATION IN IRELAND.
The letter, from which the following extract is taken,
was addressed by Strafford to his intimate friend, Sir
Christopher Wandesford, Master of the Rolls in Ireland. In
it he gives an account of the manner in which he had replied
before the King and Council to the charges which had been
brought against him : —
" I then craved admission to justify myself in some particulars
wherein I had been very undeservedly and bloodily traduced.
" So I related to them all that had passed betwixt myself,
Earl of St. Albans, Wilmot, Mountnorris, Piers Crosby, and
the jury of Galway, that hereupon touching and rubbing in
the course of my service upon their particulars, themselves
and friends have endeavoured to possess the world I was a
severe and an austere hard-conditioned man — rather, indeed, a
bashaw of Buda than the minister of a pious and Christian
king. Howbeit, if I were not much mistaken in myself,
it was quite the contrary ; no man could show wherein I
had expressed it in my nature, no friend I had would
charge me with it in my private conversation, no creature
had found it in the managing of my own private affairs, so
as if I stood clear in all these respects, it was to be confessed
by any equal mind, that it was not anything within, but the
necessity of his Majesty's service, which enforced me into
a seeming strictness outwardly. And that was the reason,
indeed ; for where I found a Crown, a Church, and a people
spoiled, I could not imagine to redeem them from under the
pressure with gracious smiles and gentle looks ; it would cost
warmer water than so. True it was, that where a dominion
was once gotten and settled, it might be stayed and kept
where it was by soft and moderate counsels ; but where a
sovereignty (be it spoken with reverence) was going down
the hill, the nature of a man did so easily slide into the
paths of an uncontrolled liberty, as it would not be brought
back without strength, nor be forced up the hill again but by
vigour and force. And true it was indeed, I knew no other
rule to govern by, but by reward and punishment ; and I
APPENDIX. 'V.)\
must profess, that where I found a person well and entirely-
set for the service of my master, I should lay my hand
under his foot, and add to his respect and power all I
might ; and that where I found the contrary, I should
not handle him in my arms, or soothe him in his untoward
humour, but if he came in my reach, so far as honour and
justice would warrant me, I must knock him soundly over
the knuckles ; but no sooner he become a new man, apply
himself as he ought to the government, but I also change my
temper, and express myself to him, as unto that other, by all
the good offices I could do him. If this be sharpness, and
this be severity, I desired to be better instructed by his
Majesty and their lordships, for, in truth, it did not seem so
to me ; however, if I were once told that his Majesty liked
not to be thus served, I would readily conform myself, and
follow the bent and current of my own disposition, which
is to be quiet, not to have debates and disputes with any.
" Here his Majesty interrupted me, and said, that was no
severity ; wished me to go on in that way, for if I served him
otherwise, I should not serve him as he expected from me." —
Strafford's Letters and Despatches, vol. ii. p. 20.
APPENDIX IV.
(Page 196.)
FINES IMPOSED FOR THE PROFIT OF THE CROWN FROM 1629
TO 1640.
1. Richard Chambers, for having refused to pay £'.
custom duties not voted by parliament, fined 2,000
2. Hill yard, for having sold saltpetre . , . 5,000
3. Goodenough, for the same cause . . . 1,000
4. Sir James Maleverer, for not having com-
pounded with the King's commissioners for
the title of knighthood 2,000
5. The Earl of Salisbury, for encroachments on the
royal forests 20,000
6. The Earl of Westmoreland, idem. . . . 19,000
7. Lord Newport, idem 8,000
8 Sir Christopher HattoD, idem .... 12,000
9. Sir Lewis Watson, idem. ..... 4,000
392 APPENDIX.
10. Sir Anthony Cooper, for having changed arable £.
into grass land ...... 4,000
11. Alexander Leighton, for a libel . . . 10,000
1 2. Henry Sherfield for having broken some panes
of stained glass in Salisbury Cathedral . . 500
13. John Overman, and several other soap-makers,
for not having followed the King's orders in
the fabrication and sale of soap . . . 13,000
14. John Rea 2,000
15. Peter Hern, and several others, for having ex-
ported gold 8,100
16. Sir David Foulis and his son, for having spoken
disrespectfully of the Northern Coiui; . . 5,500
17. Prynne, for a libel 5,000
18 Buckner the censor, for having allowed Prynne's
book to be published .... 60
19. Michael Sparkes, printer, for having printed the
said book ....... 600
20. Allison and Robins, for having spoken ill of
Archbishop Laud 2,000
21. Bastwick, for a libel 1,000
22. Prynne, Burton, and Bastwick, for libels . . 15,000
23. Prynne's servant, for the same cause . . 1,000
24. Bowyer, for having spoken against Laud . . 3,000
25. Yeomans and Wright, for dying silks improperly 5,000
26. Savage, Weldon, and Burton, for having spoken
ill of Lord Falkland, Lord-Lieutenant of Ire-
land 3,500
27. Grenville, for speaking ill of the Earl of Suffolk. 4,000
28. Favers, idem ' 1,000
29. Morley, for having abused and struck Sir George
Theobald, within the precinct of the Court . 10,000
30. Williams, Bishop of Lincoln, for having spoken
ill of Laud 10,000
31. Bernard, for having preached against the use of
the crucifix ...... 1000
32. Smart, for having preached against the ecclesi-
astical innovations of Dr. Cosins, &c. . . 500
£ 173,650
APPENDIX. 393
This list is far from being complete ; a multitude of other
cases, amounting to a considerable sum, may be found in the
second and third volumes of Rushworth's Collection.
APPENDIX V.
(Page 236.)
INSTRUCTIONS SENT BY THE KING TO THE MARQUIS OF HAMILTON
FOR THE HOLDING OF THE ASSEMBLY AT GLASGOW IN 1638.
The King wrote to Hamilton : —
" And as for this General Assembly, though I can expect no
good from it, yet I hope you may hinder much of the ill ;
first, by putting divisions among them, concerning the legality
of their elections, then by protestations against their tumul-
tuous proceedings."
And elsewhere : —
" As for the opinions of the clergy to prorogue this Assembly,
I utterly dislike them, for I should more hurt my reputation
by not keeping it, than their mad acts can prejudice my service ;
wherefore I command you hold your day : but, as you write, it
you can break them by proving nullities in their proceedings,
nothing better." — Burnet, Memoirs of the Hamiltons, pp. 82, 88.
APPENDIX VI.
(Page 300.)
I. INSTRUCTIONS SENT TO M. DE MONTREUIL BY CARDINAL DE
RICHELIEU.
Paris, 22 Fevrier, 1641.
Fault dire a Forster et mander a Montereuil que le
Roy ne receuvrait pas seulement la Royne sa soeur en France
au cas que sa sante Tobligeat d'y faire voyage, mais qu'il
serait bien fasche qu'elle n'y vingt pas. Mais que, comme
I'affection que Sa Majeste a pour la Royne de la Grande
Bretagne luy donne ces sentimens, la part qu'elle prend a ses
interets fait qu'elle ne pent ne lui dire pas qu'il fajit bien
qu'elle se donne garde de venir mal a propos en France dans
la conjoncture des affaires presentes ; qu'en telles occasions
qui quitte la partie la perd, que sa sortie d'Angleterre tirera
394 APPENDIX.
indubitablement apr^s elle la haine des Catlioliques et peut-
estre la sienne propre, pour tousjours, et celle du Roy son
mari et de ses enfants ; que dans les grands changements
comma ceux qui sont en Angleterre, il faut craindre qu'on
passe aux dernieres extremites, incapables par apres de touts
remedes.
Que c'est a la Royne de se donner un peu de patience jus-
ques a ce que le mal qui la presse soit sur son retour, auquel
cas ce que aigriroit maintenant son mal, seroit capable de
supporter une entiere gaierison. En un mot que le Roy
cognest la pensee d'un tel voiage si prejudiciable pour la
Royne qu'il croiroit estre responsable devant Dieu s'il ne le
luy reprdsentait.
II. EXTEACT OF A LETTER FROM M. DE MONTREUIL.
Londres, 21 Mars, 1641.
La Royne de la Grande Bretagne ne
cache plus a ses domestiques le ressentiment qu'elle a de la
responce qu'elle a receue de France sur la resolution qu'elle
avait prise d'y aller, jusques a dire qu'elle ne voudrait pas
racheter sa vie par un voyage en ses quartiers, si elle n'y alloit
pour reprendre les pretentions que les Roys d' Angleterre
croient avoir sur cet Estat.
III. M. DE MONTREUIL TO HIS EXCELLENCY CARDINAL DE
RICHELIEU.
MONSEIGNEUR, Londres, 23 Mai, 1641.
Le bruit qui avoit couru que la France armait centre
I'Angleterre, ou je trouvois si peu de fondement, que je ne
jugeais pas qu'il put gaigner creance aupres des personnes
plus appreliensives et moins judicieuses, s'est augmente de
telle sorte que le Vendredy, 17 May, le S' Pime fit sqavoir a
la Maison Haute de la part de la Basse, qu 'apres avoir examine
les desseins de ceulx qui avoient pris la fuitte, ils avoient trouve
qu'ils ne s'estoient pas contentez de vouloir employer I'armee
Angloise centre I'Angleterre, n'y de lever de nouvelles forces
dans le pays pour destruiro sa liberte et pour delivrer le
Lieutenant d'Irlande, mais qu'il y avoit de tres puissantes
APPENDIX. 395
preuves qu'ils vouloient se servir des armes etrang^res ; et
faire entrer une armee Franqoise en ce pays. II demanda en-
suitte qu'on deputa quelques uns des deux maisons du
Parlement pour s'asseurer de Portsmuth, ou cette armee
debvoit descendre, et qu'on donnast les ordres necessaires,
pour tenir la milice des provinces voisines en estat de marcher
au premier commandement qu'elle en recevrait, ce qui fut
aussy tost execute, et le Yicomte de Mandeville avec les
Chevaliers Clothworthy et Stapleton y furent envoyez des le
soir.
Soit que ceulx du Parlement ayant voulu se servir de ce bruit,
auquel les domestiqi es de la Roynede la Grande Bretagne, et
les Catholiques Anglois n'ont donne que trop de fondement,
pour avoir un pretexte de faire armer la campagne, affin
de reduire le Eoy de la Grande Bretagne dans la necessite
de confirmer le Bill du Parlement contre le Lieutenant
d'Irlande, qui passe le soir mesme dans la Maison Haute, et
pour oster a ce Roy la volonte de la conserver en lui en otant
la puissance ; soit qu'en effect ils ayent cru veritable ce qu'ils
n'ont pas juge impossible; il est certain que ce bruit s'est
augmente de plus en plus, et qu'il se diet Samedy matin
publiquement qu'on avait receu la confirmation des soupQons
qu'on avait eus les jours precedens, que cette armee dont on
avoit apprehende la venue, s'estoit emparee desja des Isles de
Gerzay et de Grenezay. Je receus trois ou quatre billets
de mes amys sur les dix heures, par lesquels ils m'advertirent
qu'on tenoit cecy pour asseure et me prierent ou de me sauver
si les ports estoient ouverts, ou de me retirer quelque part
s'ils estoient fermez, que la Royne de la Grande Bretagne se
disposoit a prendre la fuitte. Je jugeay ce conseil peu
horineste, et me confiant en la bonte et en la sagesse du Roy
et de Monseigneur le Cardinal, et en ma propre conscience,
je courus a la cour ou je trouvai que lalarme y estoit plus
grande que Ton ne me Tavoit exprimee, que tons les
domestiques de la Royne de la Grande Bretagne avoient pris
avec eulx tout ce qu'ils avoient de plus precieux et que les
carrosses de cette Princesse attendoient au pied de I'Escallier
niais en effet h Portsmouth
en apparence pour la mener a Wimilshow I()79rg7pxg9
q z 99 X b, et je sceus qu'elle avait pris ceLte resolution sur la
396 APPENDIX.
peur qu'on lui avoit faicte, qu'en suitte des bruits qui avaient
couru, on desiroit s'asseurer de sa personne, et de celle du
Roy son mary, particulierement s'il refusoit de confirmer
le billet contre le Lieutenant d'Irlande. J'allay trouver M'^''^-
I'Evesque d'Angouleme a qui je representay le tort que se
faisoit la ditte dame Royne, que la fuitte estait un moyen
pour haster le mal qu'elle appreliendoit, et pour les porter h
I'execution d'une entreprise dont ils n'oseroient pas alors
avoir eu la pensee, outre qu'il y avait peu d'apparence, ni
que son de'part put estre secret, le faisant en plein jour et le
communiquant a tant de personnes , n'y qu'il fut assez prompt
pour se sauver, ayant tant de personnes a sa suitte, et em-
portant beaucoup de hardes avec elle ; qu'il y avoit encore deux
choses a considerer, et le peu d'asseurance qu'elle avoit que
Portsmutli tint pour elle, et le danger auquel elle exposerait
ce qui resteroit de ses domestiques, et tons les Catholiques
qui vivent icy. Mg^- I'Evesque d'Angoulesme, qui a agi durant
tout ce desordre avec une extreme prudence, me tesmoigna
qu'il estoit dans les memes sentimens, mais qu'encore qu'ils
fussent tres justes, ils seroient difficilement escoutez de la
Royne de la Grande Bretagne. II me diet qu'il trouveroit
moyen toutefois de les representer, et jugea a propos que
j'allasse chez le Pere Philippe et quelques unes de ses femmes
pour les porter a faire le mesme, affin d'essayer a obtenir
tout ensemble ce qu'ils ne pourroient pas peut-estre gaigner
separement. Je feis ce qu'il me proposa, et je dis de plus
au Pere Philippes queje le priois de sc;avoir de la Royne dela
Grande Bretagne si elle ne me commanderoit rien pour son
service durant ces desordres, et de la vouloir asseurer que le Roy
prenoit une part tres particuliere en son affliction, que pour
le dessein qu'elle faisoit presentement, estant celuy qui pou-
voit davantage sur 1' esprit de cette princesse, il estoit oblige
plus qu'aucun autre de la porter a changer une resolution qui
lui estoit si ruineuse, que si je n'apprehendois point de donner
de nouveaux soub^ons a des personnes extremement jalouses,
je m'iroisjetter aux pieds de la dicte dame Royne, pour la sup-
plyer au nom du Roy son frere de demeurer. Le Pere Phi-
lippes me fit response qu'il n'y avoit pas d'apparence qu'il luy
put faire changer dc dessein, que les personnes de condition
APPENDIX. 397
qui lui avoient conseille de fair avoient scevi sans doute le
danger qu'elle couroit en deme\irant, qu'on le jugeroit coupa-
ble de tout le mal qui lui arriveroit a Londres. II m'en dit
assez pour me faire croire qu'il avoit autant de part que per-
sonne a la resolution que cette princesse avoit prise. Je ne
scay si toutes ces choses eurent quelque pouvoir sur I'esprit de
cette princesse, mais j'appris a midy qu'elle avoit change de
dessein, ce qui arriva ties heiireusement pour elle, par ce qu'elle
apprist deux heures apres que le Colonel Gorin avoit informe
le Parlement de tout ce qui se passoit et que cette fuitte eust
pour Ba reputation
encore este detres grand prejudice 22 22 17 10 26 50 comme
vous jugerez, par ce qui s'est diet depuis assez publiquement
estoit toute presto a laisser
que cette princesse r z, 29 a d 4 8- m 17 z 27 9 90 pz 22 q
le Rot Bon mari pour suivro If Sr. Germain
91 86 45 95 1 x 22 25 a to 17 9 1 2 3 rt q 76 q 95 a m ;
je vous rajDporte, Mouse igneur, des choses qui vous donneront
de I'estonnement, mais qui sent couformes a ce qui s'est diet
et que je diminue plustot que je n'augmente par le discours.
J'avois pense des le jour precedent de quelle sorte je debvois
agir pour assoupu' ce bruit qui s'estoit e'pandu du grand
armement qui se faisait en France pour porter la guerre en
Angleterre, et bien que d'abord j'eusse este tout prest de
demander audience aux deux Chambres du Parlement pour
representor comme c'estoit une chose qui n'avoit pas niesnie
apparence de verite. J'avois toutefois juge qu'il estoit plus a
propos de prendre une autre voye pour deux differentes
raisons, I'une affin qu'ils ne s'imaginassent que ce fut plustot
une apologie pour la Royne de la Grande Bretagne, et pour
ceulx qu'on accusoit d'avoir voulu faire entrer cette armee en
Angleterre, qu'en esclaircissement pour la France, et I'autre
pour De leur pas faire penser qu'on eust trop de peur de les
fascher, ce que ces peuples s'imaginent fort aysement. Je
m'estois done contente de parler seulement a ceulx des deux
maisonsdu Parlement qui y ont plus de credit, et avec qui j'ai
davantage de familiarite, a qui j'avois represente le peu
d'apparence qu"il y avoit que des personnes qui sQeussent les
affaires presentes s'imaginassent que le Roy vouliit laisser
en paix la maison d'Autriche dans un temps ou ily asi grand
398 APPENDIX.
suject de croire qu'il la rangera a la raison, pour s'aller faire
de nouveaux ennemys, et qu'il voulut rompre avec le Parle-
ment et tout un royaume allie pour sauver le Lieutenant
d'Irlande, que Ton s^ayt avoir este tres confident a I'Espagne
et peu affectionne a la France, que je sgavois que durant que
le Roy de la grande Bretagne avait encore un party en Angle-
terre, et que les deux royaumes estoient divisez, le E.oy n'eust
pas mesme voulu escouter les propositions qui eussent pu
tendre en quelque fagon a affoiblir I'union des deux Etats,
cequeje me contentois dedire ainsy en general sans en venir
a de plus grandes explications, qu'il y avoit peu d'apparence
qu'il eut voulu entendre a un dessein de cette nature, en un
temps ou les affaires du Roy de la Grande Bretagne estoient
entierement desesperes, qu'il y avoit une armee sur les fron-
tiferes de Flandres et une flotte sur la coste de Bretagne, mais
que c'estoit une chose cogneue de tout le monde qu'on alloit
deffendre le Portugal avec celle-ci et attaquer la Flandres avec
celle-la.
J'avais commence a insinuer ces sentimens des le Vendredy
au soir, et n'ayant pu rencontrer ce jour le Comte d'Hollande,
je I'allay trouver le Samedy, aussi tost que la resolution du
partement de la Roynede la Grande Bretagne fut changee, et
apres lui avoir diet les mesmes choses que j'avais represente
aux autres, j'adjoustay que je m'addressois a luy comme a
celuy qui avoit plus de connoissance qu'aucun du desir qu'avoit
eu le Roy et Monseigneur le Cardinal, d'entretenir entre les
deux Estats une estroitte union et une bonne intelligence, et
des ofl&ces, qu'ils avoient faicts, pour empesclier qu'elle se
put ou rompre ou refroidir, qu'il sq avoit que le royage en
France de la Royne de la Grande Bretagne avoit este diverty
sur cette consideration, qu'un Ambassadeur seroit ici dans
peu de jours quiconfirmeroit encore plus particulierement ce que
je lui disois, que je le priois cependant, et de parler de cecy a
ses amys et de le vouloir representer de ma part a MM. du
Parlement estant assemblez, etleur faire s^avoir quej'estois icy
pour respondrc de tout le mal qui arriveroit, ce que je jugeoy
a propos de faire dire publiquement, pour asseurer tout ce que
nous avons icy de Fran9ois. Aussi cela contenta fort ceulx
du Parlement, et servit beaucoup pour empesclier que ceulx
APPENDIX. 399
de notre nation ne receussent aucune injure, ce faux bruit
s'estant presque esvanouy au mesme temps.
Voila, Monsigneur, de quelle sorte je me suis porte durant
ce desordre. Je m'estimeray bien heureux si, apres avoir agi
selon qu'il m'a semble debvoir faire, vous me faictes I'honneur
d'agreer ce que j'ai faict. La longueur de cette de'pesche
m'oblige a vous faire scavoir le plus succinctement qu'il me
sera possible, ce qui est encore arrive depuis le dernier ordinaire
affin de trouver un moyen pour estre exact sans etre toutefois
ennuyeux. ....
(Archives des Affaires Etrangeres de France.)
APPENDIX VII.
(Page 338.)
CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN THE MARQUIS DE LA FERTE
IMBAULT AND ONE OF THE OFFICIALS IN THE FRENCH
FOREIGN OFFICE.
Monsieur, Londres, 12 Decembre, 1641.
Le Roy de la Grande Bretagne fist son entree Jeudy' a
Londres comme je vous ai mande par ma j)recedente, et
Vendredy j'eus audiance publique auparavant aucun autre
ambassadeur. Celuy d'Espagne I'eut Samedy, de Portugal
Dimanche, de Venise Lundy. Dans la mienne, je temoignay
premierement au Roy de la Grande Bretagne la satisfaction
que Sa Majeste avoit eue lorsqu'elle avoit appris le bon succes
de son voyage, et comme il avoit donne la paix a ses royaumes
d'Escosse et d'Angleterre. Je lui dis ensuitte que lorsque je
lui avois demande, de la part du Roy raon maistre, la permis-
sion de faire quelque levee de ses sujets, il me Tavoit accord ee
avec tant de temoignages d'affection que cela avoit bien fort
oblige Sa Majeste, et que maintenant qu'elle apprenoit la
rebellion qui estoit en Irlande elle luy offroit son assistance,
s'il en avoit besoin. Sa Majeste Britannique me remercia et
me dit que maintenant I'Escosse et I'Angleterre estoient en
estat de tranquillite, que pour I'lrlande il y avoit veritablement
quelque revoke, mais qu'elle n'estoit pas beaucoup con-
' On the 25th of November (December 5), UMl.
400 APPENDIX.
siderable, n'y ayant aucune personne de qualite de qui elle fust
appuye ; qu'il esperoit que dans peu toutes choses seroient
pacifiees, et que cepeudant il m'assurait qu'il se sentoit trcs
oblige au Roy son frere, etqu'en toutes les occasions ou il vou-
droit disposer de tout ce qui depend de luy, il en pouvoit faire
estat. Auparavant que de voir le Roy, j'avois sonde les esprits
de mes amis du Parlement pour veoir s'ils agreeroient ces
offres et s'ils n'en prendroient point d'ombrage ; mais bien
loing de cela, ils m'en ont supplie, et apres que j'eus veu le
Roy de la Grande Bretagne, ils m'en firent faire compliment.
Apres mon audience, Sa Majeste Britannique alia trouver la
Royne, et moy j'y fus conduit par le S' Gerbier qui voulut aller
devant Tadvertir que je venois pour avoir I'honneur de la voir.
Le Comte de Dorset et le diet Gerbier vinrent au devant de
moy me dire que la Royne viendroit aussytost. Je fus bien
demi-lieure dans sa cliambre, et apres on me dist qu'elle s'en
estoit alle'e. II est vrai que je ne lui avois pas demande
I'audiance, et que peut-estre elle ne I'a pas sceu, au moins le
dict-elle ainsi. M. de Vendosme vint hier chez moi, qui me
dist que le Roy et la Rojoie lui avoient diet que c' estoit la
faute du Comte Dorset, qu'elle ne sqavoit point que je fusse
la, et qu'elle m'en feroit excuse a la premiere veue. Je ne
feray aucun semblant d'en estre mal satisfait, et si elle m'en
parle, je lui temoigneray que j'allois pour lui rendre compte
de ce que j'avois diet au Roy de la Grande Bretagne, et que je
n'aurois garde de penser qu' ayant I'honneur d'estre auprt^s
d'elle de la part du Roy, elle n'eust pas dessein de me vouloir
veoir, que je n'y allois pas cette fois comme ambassadeur, mais
comme son tres bumble serviteur,
M. de Vendosme me temoigna que leurs Majest(5z Bri-
tanniques estoient resolues de me proposer de me mesler, de
la part du Roy, de leur accommodement avec le Parlement,
n'y trouvant pas grande lumiere que par cette voye la
dans I'embarras ou sont les affaires, Je lui respondis que je
m'estois offert plusieurs fois de servir la Royne dans ce dessein
1^, mais qu'elle ne I'avoit jamais de'sire ; que toutes les fois
qu'elle me le commanderoit j'y agirois comme son tres humble
serviteur ; qu'au temps quo je luy en avois parle, la chose estoit
bien plus facile et que dcpuis le retour de Sa Majeste Britan-
nique, ils avoient si fort meprise tous les seigneurs du Par-
APPENDIX. 401
lement et toute la Chambre des Communes que, pour
se sauver du mal qu'apparemment ou leur vouloit faire,
ils s'estoient reunis et cherchoient, par les loys du royaume,
d'empescher qu'on ne leur peust nuire ; que leurs Majestez
Britauuiques avoient au contraire reeeu toute Tautre cabale,
qui est celle d'Espagne, avec tant d'applaudissement et de
temoignages de satisfaction, que j'appreliendois que ces Mes-
sieurs du Parlement ne peussent pas quitter leurs defiances
tant qu'ils verroient les choses en cet estat, et que cette faction,
qui leur est ennemie, seroit en credit aupres de leurs Majestez ;
que j'etois asseure que, quand le Royne voudroit prendre les
interests de la France, et abandonner ceulx d'Espagne, le Roy
et mesme ces Messieurs dont elle se plaint, se porteroient a
toutes les choses qui pouiToient contribuer a sa satisfaction.
Le sentiment de M. de Vendosme est qu'il faut que leurs
Majestes Britanniques me donnent parole qu'ayant travaille a
leur accommodement et en estant venu a bout, ils rompront
avec rEsjjagne. Je ne luy ay rien respondu la dessus, mais je
suis d'une opinion conti'aire, et je crois qu'il fault qu'ils fassent
la rupture auparavant que j 'oblige ceulx du Parlement a le
desirer ainsi, leur faisant voir qu'il n'y a point de surete pour
eux tant que ces favoris Espagnols demeureront en puissance.
La necessite des uns et des autres est fort pressante, et de
chaque cote ils sont a present dans lextremite
II faut que dans dix jours il arrive quelque re vers a I'une ou
I'autre de ces cabales, faisant I'une et Tautre ce qu'elles peuvent
pour se miner. Celle oil jay habitude a este jusques a cette
heure la plus forte. L'amvee du Roy de la Grande Bretagne
a fortifie Tautre. J'espere que cela n'empescbera pas qu'elle
ne se maintienne. L'Evesque de Lincoln, le Comte de Bristol
et son fils sont ceux qui, pensant me brouiller avec le Roy, la
Royne et le Parlement, ont fait courre le bruit que j'avois
offert au Roy de la Grande Bretagne vingt mille hommes pour
mettre les Anglois a la raison. Cela ne leur a point donne
d'ombrage, le Comte de Hollande estant dernierement lorsque
je lui ay parld, et le Parlement au contraire a diet tout haidt
que je temoignois bien par mes actions que la France n'avoit
pas envie de brouiller cet estat, puisqu'elle offroit des forces
VOL. I. 2d
402 APPENDIX.
pour chastier ceulx que la cabale d'Espagne avoit suscitespour
en causer tous les troubles ......
Les Deputez d'Escosse doivent arriver dans deux jours. On
me dit que lorsqvi'ils seront venus, le Parlement et eulx se
joiudront pour me parler d'une nouvelle alliance. Je ne man-
queray de vous le faire scavoir aussitost et ne loirray de les
escoviter pour tenir I'affaire en estat afin d'attendre les ordres
de Monseignevir le Cardinal. Si c'est chose qu'il desire, il ne
faudra pas perdre de temps a se resoudre, car ces gens icy sont
fort inegaux, et si on ne les prend dans le temps de leiurs
brouilleries avec le Roy, ils sont personnes a n'en rien faire.
II. THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Londres, 26 Decembre, 1641.
Leurs Majestez Britanniques seront enfin contraints de
chercher accomodemeut. On ne parloit il y a quatre jours que
de faire couper la teste a plusieurs du Parlement. Tous les
exiles qui sont en France font ce qu'ils peuvent pour rendre de
mauvais offices au Dt. Sr. de la Ferte. lis se plaignent haute-
ment de Monseigneur le Cardinal. Ceux qui sont en Angle-
terre font encore pis, flattant leurs Majestez dans leurs senti-
ments.
III. THE SAME TO THE SAME.
Londres, 16 Janvier, 1642.
Les affaires d'Angieterre empirent tous les jours. II y a
trois jours que le Parlement demanda au Roy une garde qui
fut command ee par le Comte d Essex, laquelle il ne voulut pas
leur accorder sur Iheure.
Le Roy et la Royne d'Angieterre ont mis deux personnes de
la Chambre Basse dans lem: conseil, en ont fait un autre de la
meme Chambre Chancelier de TEschiquier, et le Comte de
Southampton, qui est de la Haute, gentilhomme de la chambre
du lict. Toutes ces promotions choquent extremement le
Parlement.
Le Parlement estant rassomble, Sa Majeste de la Grande
Bretague envoya le Procureur du Roy declarer a la Chambre
APPENDIX. 408
Haute, le Vicomte de Mandeville criminal de haute trahison, et
demanda qu'on I'envoyast prisonnier a la Tour, En mesme
temps la Maison Haute envoya demander conference avec la
Basse, et deputa ce meme Vicomte de Mandeville pour conferer
avec elle. Les uns et les autres trouv^rent que cette action
estoit violente, d' envoy er vm homme de condition du Parlement
prisonnier sans en dire les raisons. Comme ils parlaient de
cette affaire, il arriva encore d'autres deputez de la part du
Roy a la Maison Basse, qui declarerent les Sieurs Pime, Holis et
trois autres de cette Maison criminels de haute trahison, et
mesme le Roy avait envoye dans les logos de ces six sceller
leurs cabinets et coffres de son sceau. Le Parlement aprenant
ces procedures, envoya lever le sceau, declara qu'il tenoit ces
personnes en sa protection, qu'on vouloit ruyner leurs pri-
villeges, mais qu'ils estoient bien resolus de les maintenir,
qu'on faisoit des assemblees a la cour, et une garde, qu'ils
prioient le Roi de faire retirer toute la noblesse qui s' estoit
jettee dans son palais, et de trouver bon qu'ils eussent autaut
de gardes qu'il en prenoit pour luy, et personnes qu'ils choi-
siroient.
Le Royne de la Grande Bretagne m'a envoye le superieur des
Capucins me dire que je retirasse chez moi Targenterie de sa
chapelle. En mesme temps on fit peur aux Peres qu'on les
devoit assommer. Je fus chez la Royne qui me confirma le
commandement qu'elle m'avoit fait faire, et I'apprehension
quelle avoit pour ces pferes. J'y avois prdveu ddja et mes
amis du Parlement m'avoient assure qu'on n'entreprendroit
rien contre aux, et qu'ils avoient donnd ordre que les appren-
tis n'y allassent point. Depuis j'ai seen que des serviteurs
de la Royne faisoient coure le bruit qu'elle ne se soucioit pas
des Capucins, puisque cela estoit si fort contraire aux senti-
ments du peuple.
Le Roy et le Parlement se roidissent chacun de son coste.
Nous verrons bientost qui flechira. Je ne scay s"il seroit plus
avantageux a la France que I'une de ces deux puissances
demeurast le maistre. Je vous prie de me mander ce que j 'ay
a faire.
Je ne vols mes amis que le moins que je puis, ni la cour
404 APPENDIX.
non plus, pour me maintenir sans ombrage. Je vous supplie,
que je saclie les intentions de son Eminence sur ce sujet.
On a envoye douze Evesques a la Tour ; on pensoit faire
leur proces. Je leur ay conseilld le contraire, parcequ'^tant
condamnez on y en pourvoiroit d'autres. La ou n'estant que
prisonniers, c'estoit douze voix que estoient a leur avantage.
Je crois qu'ils alentiront ce sagement.
On ne voit prdsentement que des preparations a beaucoup
de maux, assemblies de part et d'autre, porter publiquement
dans la ville, chez le Roy et au Parlement poignards et pistolets
de poclie, tirer les espees et poignards dans la chambre du
Roy et de la Royne pour faire veoir qu'ils ont quelque dessein.
Hier le Roy fut au Parlement avec trois cents gentils-
hommes, et le peu qu'il a de gardes. II entra dans la
Chambre des Communes ou il demanda les cinq qu"il avoit
accusez, et comme le party ce jour la n'estoit pas bien fait pour
le Parlement, j"en advertis mes amis qui y pourveurent faisant
un quart d'heure devant esloigner ces personnes, et donnant
ordre a la ville qu'on prit les armes.
Le lendemain le Roy, croyant s'assurer du peuple, fut chez
le Maire oil le conseil estoit, puis disnerent chez un cherif,
n'ayant mend avec soi que le Marquis d'Hamilton, les Comtes
d'Essex, de Holland et de Nieuport. II devoit aller apres
disner a la Tour. Le bruit est que son intention estoit de
laisser ces quatre seigneurs prisonniers s'il eut trouve disposi-
tion aux bourgeois de la proteger ; mais au contraire dans le
conseil de la ville et par les rues, le peuple crioit tout haut
liberte du Parlement. Les bourgeois prirent les armes, et plus
de deux mille furent sur le chemin de la Tour. Le Roy ne
trouvant pas son compte est revenu droit a la Cour. Le
Parlement et le peuple ont proteste la protection de ces six
personnes condamnees, de sorte que mes amis, dont quatre
estoient du nombre, se maintiendront, et de telle sorte que
j'ay peur que Tautorite du Roy d'Angleterre ne soit bien
esbranlee.
Le Sieur Gerbier m'est venu trouver pour me parler d'une
proposition que I'ambassadeur de Venise lui a fait faire, pour
sauver I'honneur . du Roy d'Angleterre. Cet ambassadeur
APPENDIX. 405
projettoit que nous demandassions audiance publique en-
semble, et que nous prierions le Roy de donner un pardon
general de tout ce qui s'est fait au Parlement, que les ambassa-
deurs estant bien aupres de la Royne, ils la porteroient a cela,
et que moy estant bien avec le Parlement, je tacherois aussi
de le porter a y consentir, et que mes amis qui estoient en
crime seroient par la a couvert. J'ai respondu au Sieur
Gerbier que je ne pouvois commettre le nom de Sa Majeste
pour aucune affaire que ce soit avec un autre ambassadeur, et
que je ne voulois point avoir d'audiance avec personne, que je
voyais le Roy et la Royne d'Angleterre souvent, et que quand
ils me conimanderoient de les servir, je ferois toutes choses
possibles pour leur tesmoigner qvie I'intentions du Roy seront
toujours de les assister de ses bons conseils, que je n'aurois
garde de pousser cette affaire plus avant, Leurs Majestes
m'ayant toujours tesmoigne qu'elles ne vouloient penser a
aucun accommodement.
On croit que le Roy d'Augleterre n'a plus d'autre resource
que d'aller en Irlande.
Je ne saurois subsister si Monseigneur ne m'en donne le
moyen. Sij'avois autant de biens comme de volonte dele
servir, il ne seroit pas importune de moy.
{Archives des Affaires Etr anger es de France.)
APPENDIX Vin.
(Page 380.)
COMPOSITION OF THE ARMY RAISED BY PARLIAMENT IN 1642.'
General-in-chief : Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex.
Major-General (or, as the office was then called, Seijeant-
Major-General), Sir John Merrick.
General of artillery: John Mordaunt, Earl of Peterborough.*
' From a pamphlet published in London in 1642, and entitled, " The
List of the Army raised under the command of his Excellency Robert,
Earl of Essex."
* On the death of the Earl of Petei'borough, Sir John Merrick became
general of the artillery, and Philip Skippon was appointed major-general.
406
APPENDIX.
COLONELS OF INFANTRY REGIMENTS.
The Earl of Essex.
The Earl of Peterborough.
Henry Grey, Earl of Stamford,
William Fiennes, Viscount Say.
Edward Montague, Viscount
Mandeville.'
John Carey, Viscount Roch-
ford.^
Oliver St. John, Viscount St.
John.
Robert Greville, Lord Brook.
John Roberts, Lord Roberts.
Philip Wharton, Lord
Wharton.
John Hampden.
Denzil Holies.
Sir John Merrick.
Sir Henry Cholmondley.
Sir William Constable.
Sir William Fairfax.*
Charles Essex.
Thomas Grantham.
Thomas Ballard.
William Bampfield.
COLONELS OF TROOPS OF HORSE.'*
The Earl of Essex.
The Earl of Bedford.
The Earl of Peterborough.
The Earl of Stamford.
Viscount Say.
Viscount St. John
Basil Fielding, Viscount Field-
ing.^
Lord Brook.
Lord Wharton,
William Willoughby, Lord
Willoughby of Parham.
Ferdinand Hastings, Lord
Hastings.
Thomas Grey, Lord Grey of
Groby.
Sir William Balfour.
Sir William Waller.
Sir Arthur Haslerig.
Sir Faithful Fortescue.
Nathaniel Fiennes.
Francis Fiennes.
John Fiennes.
Oliver Cromwell.
Valentine Wharton.
Henry Ireton.
Arthur Goodwin.
John Dalbier.
Adrian Scrope.
Thomas Hatcher.
John Hotham,
Edward Beny.
' Lord Manchester, known also by the name of Baron Kimbolton.
^ Also called Lord Hunsdon.
' A cousin of the celebrated Sir Thomas Fairfax.
* In the writings of the period they are often called captains.
* Sometimes also called Lord Newnham ; he was son of the Earl of
Denbigh, and, on his father's death, in April, 164;?, he assumed the
title.
APPENDIX.
407
Sir Robert Pye.
Sir William Wray.
Sir John Saunders.
John Alured.
Edwin Sandys.
John Hammond.
Thomas Hammond.
Alexander Pym.
Anthony Mildmay.
Henry Mildmay.
James Temple.
Thomas Temple.
Arthur Evelyn.
Robert Vivers.
Hercules Langrish.
William Pretty.
William Pretty.
James Sheffield.
John Gunter.
Robert Burrel.
Francis Dowet.
John Bird.
Matthew Drapper.
Matthew Dimock.
Horace Carey.
John Neal.
Edward Ayscough.
George Thompson.
Francis Thompson.
Edward Keightly.
Alexander Douglas.
Thomas Lidcot.
John Fleming.
Richard Grenville.
Thomas Terril.
John Hale.
William Balfour.
George Austin.
Edward Wingate.
Edward Baynton.
Charles Chichester.
Walter Long.
Edmund West.
William Anselm.
Robert Kirle.
Simon Rudgeley.
END OF VOL. I.
LONDON :
rUIN'TED nY WILIJAM OI.OWRS AND SONS, STAMFOIID-STIIKET.
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